Chapter 28 - Best Friend

PB&B

Horus

The herd had a custom. They called it a “Trust Fall.”

The calves would all find the tallest bluff, one that towered up into the clouds. Then we would each take turns getting a running start and leaping from the ledge. Soaring through the air, wind whipping at our fur, until we fell into the waiting arms of our calf-mates—

Or sometimes not. The ritual was quite efficient at weaning out the weaker members of the herd. Also, the most annoying. It was important to cull the herd early. Plus, the bonding activity brought the survivors together to form a more cohesive group. That is why I had adopted the same management style with my own unit.

However, that was also the first time I realized I was… different.

Stronger, faster, and several times larger than my peers.

Perhaps that is why they never caught me. Not once.

I realize it was meant as a compliment, my peers realizing I needed no help.

Also, it turned out to be a valuable learning experience. Each time I leaped from those cliffs and sped through the clouds before slamming into rigid and unforgiving stone, I grew stronger. With each broken bone. With each punctured lung. With each journey home, dragging myself many leagues across the bluffs, bleeding and broken and lightheaded from blood loss. And the lesson? I could only trust myself – in my own power.

Perhaps that is why I hesitated when I learned of my Future Friend’s latest battle plan. His most recent strategy to lay siege to My Lady’s heart.

The one written on the note I’d collected from the cute little cottage he was calling the “Bed and Breakfast.” I slipped away while My Lady was sleeping one evening – my Future Friend’s precious jar of special spices always ensured she slept deeply, her anxiety bleeding away and her adorable, booming snores announcing her tremendous power to the entire screaming bamboo forest.

And in the soft, glowing emerald light of the PB&B’s sign, I read the title.

“Trust Falling in Love.”

Almost like he knew of my childhood; my training; my deep-seated trust issues.

Naturally, I was suspicious. I was not proud of that. After his marvelous hell dungeon and the gift of those treasured spices and that fantastic highway full of engaging and rewarding experiences – each one bringing My Lady and I closer – I should have learned to trust him. Yet, this time, he was asking for a lot – the impossible really.

The plan was simple, insane, and utterly ruthless. It was brilliant. And it began with an observation. My Future Friend had witnessed My Lady’s reaction when I’d been buried beneath the keep back in the corrupted gate – the way her eyes blazed and she’d hesitated to save the others. From this, he’d formulated what he called a “hypothesis.”

Perhaps My Lady was vulnerable when she felt my vessel’s life was in peril.

Ridiculous, of course. Mostly because my fur was impenetrable.

And that was actually the first problem we had to overcome.

To test my Future Friend’s theory, we would need to injure my vessel and evaluate My Lady’s reaction. However, that would require I allow myself to get hurt. That I take a running leap from the clifftop of our budding friendship in the hope that someone would finally catch me. And no mere scratch or scrape would be enough.

That was why the plan was so elaborate.

First, I had to steal several of those strange, pulsating blood fruits. Then carefully prepare a patch of fur along my chest using a mixture of mud and that toxic spring water and long strips of bamboo, the tendrils helping to work the toxins in deep. Then I had to rip it free in one smooth motion. That pain was… intense. Yet necessary.

And when the preparations were complete, there was only one final step.

I just had to let my Future Friend’s green-eyed assistant plunge a metallic two-foot-long spine directly through that tiny bald patch of skin, between my armored ribs, and into my heart – which, of course, was the most efficient way to administer the incredibly potent paralytic. Anything else would have been futile.

In short, my Future Friend was asking me to die.

And I did. For approximately 6 seconds.

That was how long it took my vessel to purge the toxin and repair the damage.

All of those many cycles of training had made me resilient.

However, what followed was the most difficult part of my Future Friend’s plan. A true test of the power of [Bullshit]. I must remain still, unmoving, not breathing. Slow my heartbeat like this was any other trust fall – although, there was little risk of bleeding out this time. Just wait, watch, and… listen.

“Where is the wound?” My Lady demanded, her hand pressing at my chest. “There’s just so much blood. I can’t feel the puncture—

“Don’t just stand there,” she snapped over her shoulder. “Keep healing him, Danae!”

I could feel the warmth of the vulpin’s hearth spirit envelope me. Pointless.

“It-it isn’t enough,” My Lady muttered, her fingers just mashing the blood fruit into my thick fur, more blood spurting and splashing her armor. Much of it stained my fur a dark crimson. A side effect of the toxic spring water. It temporarily removed the protective oil that helped ward of toxins, fire, water, and nearly everything else.

A flash of heat and a scream from Danae and her hearth’s spirit’s power surged.

Ahh, that was the signal. I heaved in a big gasping breath of air. Mostly because I’d been holding my breath for a while. But also because my Future Friend had left detailed instructions. He said this would make it more “dramatic.”

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Then my eyes peeked open to reveal the loveliest scene.

My Lady was kneeling beside me, her hands pressed into my matted fur, her eyes like twin suns, streaks of fire searing their way down her pale, smooth cheeks. She appeared crushed. Devastated. Absolutely destroyed. But, most importantly, vulnerable.

And behind her, Danae stood there, gasping and shaking and barely able to remain standing. Likely because her fur was seared in several places, each one in the shape of a handprint. Evidence that My Lady had infused her with her spirits’ gifts. Many, many times by the look of things. And all to save my vessel.

“You… you’re okay?” My Lady offered weakly, blinking those glowing eyes.

Ahh, what was the line again? I had memorized it carefully—

I took her small hand in mine, my fingers trembling as my Future Friend instructed.

“Of course, My Lady. I—I would never leave you,” I said, as weakly as possible.

Which was difficult. My lung capacity was exceptional. That was how I was able to hold my breath for so long. Yet it was worth it.

Her reaction was better than I could have possibly imagined. My Lady was a simmering, frozen statue, her body pressed against me, flecks of blood staining face and her gleaming mail, her fingers touching that bare patch of skin – that vulnerable part of my impressive, god-like physique. The feeling was electric.

And in that moment I knew true joy. Once again, my Future Friend was right. We had finally found My Lady’s weakness. The hole in her defenses.

To make her vulnerable with me… I just needed to be vulnerable with her.

Who would have thought?

Ahh, but that was obvious. My Future Friend would have.

Then Danae collapsed and ruined everything. Again.

My Lady snapped out of her fugue, barking at Danae as she backpedaled away from me in a flash of flame, eyeing her bloody hands. “See to his wounds.”

Danae gasped where she lay on the ground, pressing her palm to her chest and her burns slowly healing, leaving patches of bald skin. “Yes… yes, My Lady.”

She managed to crawl over to me, her gentle fingers plucking at my fur. “I, uh… I don’t see the wound. Wait, why is the hair—” Danae cut herself short as she looked up at me, realization dawning there. Awareness of my [Bullshit].

Our eyes met. Hers glowing gold. Mine a soft, ominous white.

“My vessel must have healed itself,” I said.

Danae swallowed hard. “Ahh… uh, ahh yes. That seems right.”

I released my bone shattering grip on her hand, Danae having the presence of mind to discreetly heal the injury so My Lady wouldn’t notice. She let out a small sigh of relief as the bones shifted back into place in a small series of pops.

“Where is the creature?” I asked at the same time, trying to lift myself up. “I must slay it. Where is my axe?” I made a show of looking for it.

A distraction. It made the [Bullshit] more powerful.

“No, no. Stay put,” My Lady said, at my side in a blur, fire suffusing her body and burning away the blood that coated her gleaming mail. “The creature fled after it attacked you. I shall go patrol and ensure it doesn’t return.”

Our eyes met one last time. “You just rest. Heal.”

Then she was gone, leaving only a faintly-glowing silhouette.

Danae and I were now alone, so there was no sense maintaining the [Bullshit].

I heaved myself upright and shook out my fur, blood spraying – beating against a hasty, golden shield that Danae had summoned around herself. She was having trouble meeting my eyes, her fingers twining together and her lips pinched taut as she inspected the traces of mashed blood fruit littering the ground… like she wished to say something.

“What is it?” I demanded.

“I know this might sound crazy, but did you… did you just stage your death?”

I met her gaze evenly, shaking my head.

“What a ridiculous question,” I replied.

“Oh, good, I almost—?”

“Of course, I did,” I interrupted.

“What?” Danae squeaked, her eyes going round.

“It was necessary. I have found My Lady’s weakness now,” I explained, as though it was obvious. Because, of course, it was. But there was still something more important we needed to address. Especially now, while My lady was distracted.

I had lost 6 seconds. 6 precious seconds.

And I was certain. I have always had a remarkable internal clock and this wasn’t my first death. My record was actually 17 minutes and 37 seconds.

“What happened while I was dead?”

“Well, uh… the monster attacked you, then My Lady said something, and started firing,” she muttered, waving toward the cave. Indeed, the viewing deck was gone – just smoke and ashes – the stone mountain seared a solid black. Yet that wasn’t important.

To use her spirit’s gifts, she must answer his questions.

My Lady had complained much about this arrangement back in that exquisite hell sewer. How those questions were often “too personal” and “invasive” and “incredibly nosy” – which I thought was odd. Spirits had no noses.

“What did she say?” I demanded.

“I-I’m not sure. It happened really fast and there was a lot going on. I was eating, and it looked like you had died – maybe,” Danae muttered, shaking her head. Her hands were still shaking, the vulpin unable to stand.

She had been through much. And I had learned during these last few weeks what these signs meant – how to respond to it. She needed “encouragement.”

So, my axe swept through the air and came to rest at her neck, the blade glowing white. “No one is here. If you do not tell me, no one will know how you died.”

Danae swallowed and then…

She did something new. I had seen this before with prey backed into a corner. When they had nothing left to lose. I just didn’t expect to see it now.

Danae met my eyes, a little snarl peeling back her lips and revealing sharp teeth. “My Lady will know,” she shot back. “She has much healing knowledge. You think she will not notice an axe wound?” Then she just waited, refusing to back down.

An impasse. We just stood there, at a standstill.

However, I had become more accustomed to “killing outside the box,” as Rowan called it. And as I had already discovered, many things could be weapons. Pitch. Fire. Venom. Flowers. [Bullshit]. Even kitchen utensils. So, why not the spines littering the ground, each one still coated in glowing green venom?

So, I improvised. Danae seemed to appreciate it.

That little snarl disappeared as she stared at the hundred spines that now orbited her in glowing white, those emerald tips all pointed straight toward her face.

“Or I can make it look like an accident. The monster could have circled back and I was too weak to fend it off,” I offered, waving at the spines. “I was so sad at your loss.”

“I-I don’t think you could fake that—”

So, I gave her the tears. Yes, [Bullshit] let me turn them on at will.

“How-how is possible for you to look so… cute?” she muttered in horror.

She’d even forgotten about the spines – just staring at me.

It was a defense mechanism. It had gotten me more attention from the herd mothers – most of their milk, in fact. Which might go a long way toward explaining my impressive size and strength and speed. Also, perhaps why few of my calf-mates had survived.

“So, do you believe she will accept that story?” I demanded.

The vulpin swallowed hard and then her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I, uh.. I think I might remember what she said,” Danae muttered.

Ahh. Perfect. I was right.

I knew keeping her alive would be worth it.

“She said something like, “No, no… we would make a cute couple.” But that doesn’t really make any sense,” Danae said, shaking her head in confusion. “Do you know what she could be talking about or—”

The vulpin cut herself short as the spines clattered to the ground.

I couldn’t breathe, could barely think, my heart thundering. This was proof. Evidence. My Lady had definitely heard my Future Friend’s questions.

There was also this dull, aching pain in my chest, just over my heart. Yet this pain was different from getting stabbed, different from the searing burn of poison coursing through my veins. This pain was almost nostalgic. In an instant, I was three cycles old again. Both my legs crushed. Lying there on the rocks bleeding out and waiting for death…

Yet this time, I wasn’t wondering if the herd would come to get me.

This time, I was wondering how I could be so lucky.

How I had earned such a good Future Friend—

No, no, that wasn’t accurate. Not anymore.

I may have had doubts before, but they had been crushed by the weight of a growing mountain of evidence. It was all so clear now.

Nyx wasn’t just a Future Friend.

He was a Future Best Friend.

And I would follow him into the depths of Tartarus itself.