Chapter 23: Headhunting

“Death is a curable disease. Stupidity, however, is terminal.”

-Blood Witch Amkara, 185 U.E

The night passed without incident, everybody taking shifts to watch over the wreckage. Stephan had the morning shift, sitting on a wing of the Tits Up while he watched the sun rise above the ocean. He saw no monsters, but he did make out tracks near the tree line. Large enough to be human, but wide and splayed like an animal’s.

Quintilla called a meeting in the captain’s cabin. Stephan answered the summons and found the rest of the crew there, rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

“As you know, lakata appear to be infesting the island,” Quintilla said, thumbing her revolver. “I have a proposal to make. A… small detour from our original plan.”

“Here we go,” Kazzul said.

“The governor pays a bounty of 250 standards for every lakata head brought to him. If we were to find a dozen or two on this island before heading out, that’d be a nice chunk of change.”

“I thought we already had the money we needed,” Yin said. “Why bother?”

Quintilla nodded slowly. “For Dryden, if negotiations go to plan. But we have to treat with the Barandi Crew as well. We’ll need just as much for that, if not more. Good ol’ Emile isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but Barandi’s shrewd. He knows a good deal from a bad one.” She shrugged. “Hence why it might not be such a bad idea to line our coffers when we can. Usual shares apply, of course.”

“In that case, I’m up for killing a few monsters,” Yin said. “Could be a good way to pass the time while the nerds work on the ship.”

“Shut up, flea,” Kazzul said, “or I’ll take off without you.”

Taira mumbled something under her breath. She stood tucked in a corner, gaze downturned.

Is she quite alright? Stephan wondered.

“I bet I’ll kill more than you!” Yin said, pointing a finger in Kurko’s face.

the first mate chuckled, his round belly bobbing. “Doubtful. Have you ever fought a lakata?”

“Nah. Bet there’s not much to it, though. I’ll be popping off heads, and you can have the privilege of carrying them back to the ship.”

“I think—” Taira said.

“Wish I could see that,” Torch said. “Shame I have to stay behind. Make sure to kill a couple for me, flea.”

“I object!” Taira cried, causing the room to go quiet. All eyes turned to her. She breathed heavy. Anima sparked off her with such force that Stephan could perceive it with the naked eye.

“Object to what?” Quintilla asked, frowning.

“Killing defenseless creatures for money. This is not war. Not business. You propose slaughter. I object.” Her eyes were wide with passion, even as she struggled to hold her sister’s gaze and her breaths quickened.

Stephan went over to her and held her arm. “Hey, now. Breathe. Slow and deep.” He affected a few deep breaths, and Taira imitated him. The black anima around her faded away.

“You’re exaggerating,” Quintilla said. “Lakata are not fluffy pets or innocent creatures. They’re savage beasts. Bloodthirsty and cruel. Why do you think the governor issued the bounty in the first place? The lakata would do worse to us than we’ll do to them, given the chance. Maiming, torture, use your imagination. Valeria’s sagging tits, they’d eat us alive!”

Taira shrugged Stephan aside and raised her chin. “They are not people. They do not have that choice. I will not stand by and watch.”

Quintilla scoffed. “Fine. Your objection is noted. Does anyone else feel similarly?”

No one spoke up.

“Good. Stephan, keep an eye on my sister. Make sure she doesn’t leave. Kazzul, Torch, get started on repairs. Keep weapons close by, just in case. Kurko, Yin, you’re with me. We’re going to make some easy money.”

*****

Stephan watched Taira as she lay in bed from a chair on the opposite end of her cabin. Taira had her face in the crook of her arm, pointedly ignoring him.

Quintilla and the others had already left for the interior of Dead Echo island. Muffled sounds of welding and hammering came from outside as Kazzul and Torch labored to fix the thruster and hull.

“Are you okay?” Stephan asked.

“No,” Taira said, motionless.

“Do you really think those lakata are innocent?”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“I don’t know. I do know that my sister has no right to decide. She only sees gold. All else, including murder, is noise.”

“You must be fond of animals, huh?”

“I enjoy observing them,” Taira said, moving her arm a little to peek up at him. “Yes, nature is frightening sometimes, violent, but that is part of the beauty.”

“I see what you mean.”

They were quiet for a while.

“I found a stray dog, once,” Taira said. “After we lost our parents. He was small, flea-bitten, scared, but he had such wise eyes. I begged my sister to let me keep him. She relented.

“I spent every minute with him. I named him Brachius, after the Elandran general. One day, I was brushing his fur. I hit a snag. He bit me. Hard. There was blood all over.”

Taira sat up. She was wiping tears. “He didn’t mean it! He was scared. He’d only known pain all his life—of course he lashed out!”

“What happened then?” Stephan asked.

Taira chewed on her lip, sniffling. “I never saw Brachius again. Quincy took him. She said she let him go.”

“Did she?”

Taira shook her head. “She’s a worse liar than she thinks.”

“So the moral of this story is…”

“My sister, despite her good intentions… or because of them, is capable of great cruelty. And I don’t want another Brachius.”

“I understand.” Stephan put on a smile that he hoped conveyed some of the sympathy he felt. “There’s nothing we can do right now, though. We’ve got to stay put.”

Taira stood up. “You do. I don’t.”

“Wait, what?”’

Taira faced the wall and raised her hands. “I’m sorry, Stephan. I have to do something.”

Stephan got up. “Don’t—”

“Tano!”

A spiraling portal opened up in front of Taira. I ran floor to ceiling, showing a patch of the sunny beach outside.

She leapt through.

“Thrice fucking damn it,” Stephan hissed, running after her.

The portal began to close in on itself, folding smaller and smaller. Stephan didn’t stop. He jumped at the shrinking hole before doubt could paralyze him, barely clearing it.

He hadn’t considered the ground beyond.

Stephan landed face-first on the beach and got a mouthful of sand. He sat up, spitting and hacking. His face and hands burned from hundreds of little abrasions.

Taira was already halfway across the beach, running barefoot in the hot sand.

Stephan got to his feet and ran after her. He wished he could have told himself it was for purely selfless reasons.

If Taira gets lost in this jungle, or worse, the captain will make sure I share her fate, Stephan thought.

“What’s happening?” Kazzul called, padding barefoot around the side of the ship. He wore a pair of light sandals and had tied a white shirt around his head to protect it from the heat. “A little fun in the sun between lovers?”

“She’s making a break for it!” Stephan said without slowing. “I’ll get her!”

Kazzul slowed to a halt, scratching his head in confusion as Stephan passed him.

Stephan was catching up. He’d have her by the time she reached the treeline.

“Stop, Taira!” he called. “I understand your plight, but you can’t go out there and get yourself killed! We’ll make sure Quintilla faces responsibility once she gets back.”

“It’s always like that,” Taira said. “She always acts faster than anyone can object. By the time she’s finished, her mind has already moved on. Any judgment is a pointless inconvenience in her eyes. But not this time.”

She reached the edge of the trees, skidded to a stop, and briefly looked back, feet red and raw from the hot sand.

“Don’t follow me,” she said.

Stephan was only meters behind her. He didn’t slow, arms outstretched to tackle her to the ground.

“Tano,” she spoke, and stepped into a portal.

It vanished behind her.

He tackled a tree instead.

Stephan stumbled back, clutching his thumping nose, and let slip a long string of expletives. He didn’t have the time to the stop, so he went into the forest blind, searching the brushy ground for some sign of Taira.

Kazzul shouted some kind of question, but he wasn’t listening, leaving the lubbard in the dust.

Stephan waved away branches and weaved between trees, panting, sweat soaking his shirt.

A large boulder split the grouping of trees not far off. He turned his steps that way. As he got closer, he thought he could make out the sound of a voice.

Taira’s, no doubt about it.

As he drew closer, he realized that the boulder was, in fact, not a boulder at all. It was another crashed vessel, vines draped from the wings and moss growing on the hull.

Taira stood beneath the old wreck. In front of her was a creature unlike anything Stephan had seen. Large and hunch-backed, with a thick, scaly hide colored a mottled green. Its elongated mouth bristled with sharp teeth, and the small, dull eyes atop its head were fixed on the woman. Its limbs were short and thick. A long tail extended from its lower half, snaking behind it.

The creature wore a loincloth and held an old skull over its head as an improvised weapon.

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you,” Taira said, hands outstretched. “I’m a friend.”

The creature noticed Stephan approach and turned its attention on him. It dropped into a low, threatening stance, a loud hiss escaping its gaping maw.

“I told you not to follow me,” Taira said without turning.

“You knew I wouldn’t listen,” Stephan rebutted.

The creature snapped its jaws shut and wound its arm back to swing the skull at Taira.

Stephan drew the Rivello off his waist with a single motion.

Taira raised her arms in a flash. “Tano!”

The lakata fell through the ground, letting out a panicked hiss which was abruptly cut off when the portal closed.

“Have you gone quite mad, woman?” Stephan asked as he hurried up to Taira, gun still drawn as he scanned the loose groupings of trees around them. “Why’d you do that?”

“Diplomacy might still be an option,” she said, chin held high as she regarded Stephan. “I’m not giving up on these lakata. They’re innocent.”

Stephan glanced down at the ground. Human skeletons, nearly a dozen, all picked clean and covered in bite marks and scratches.

“I don’t know about innocent,” he muttered.