The sun was turning the sky to the color of blood. A slight breeze stirred the trees and ruffled Lucas’ dark hair as he ducked out of the tent. Jerad watched him for any sign of the injury that had crippled him just two nights before. There were none. He seemed whole and healthy. There was no reason to doubt the Kajani. They had honed their magic for generations towards one specific task - to make wounded warriors whole again. Hunting and killing were everything to them, and their magic reflected that.
Lucas came to stand beside Jerad, his face serious as he watched the gathering of Kajani on the other side of the campfire.
“It is gone.” He whispered. “They must have taken it when they were healing me.”
“If they took it, they know what it’s for.”
Lucas nodded. “How are we going to get away from them without Cullhain?”
They were both clad in flexible leather armor, hide shields, and short swords. Lucas carried a spear. Jerad had opted for a Kajani whip-bow.
“We run, choose our ground, and then stand and fight.”
“Against thirteen?!” Lucas sounded horror-struck. Krissker had told them that Harren would choose thirteen warriors for the hunt, one for each of the Kajani gods.
Jerad nodded grimly. “If we are lucky, they will not all reach us at once. If we disguise our trail enough, we may string them out and take them in one’s or two’s.”
They stood before the tent they had slept in. The Kajani were gathering about Harren’s tent on the other side of the large campfire. Jerad hoped that they would not choose Krissker or his den mates.
He liked them all over the two days he had been their guest. Kajani’s personality was hard to judge. Their faces and tone of voice were almost impossible to read. But he realized that Krissker and his brothers all possessed an irreverence to their own culture, even cynicism. They had even made jokes, though he had struggled to spot the humor in the stories that had them roaring. They were a peculiar bunch, and a handful of others were like them in the pride. If this Hunt ended in combat, he did not want to kill any of them. But he would.
“Going to tell me what you were whispering about with the black and white one last night? They are all occupied over there.” Lucas did not look at him as he asked, watching the gathered felines for any sign they were paying any attention to the humans.
Jerad stood beside him, eyes scanning the twilight, and barely moved his mouth as he replied.
“His name is Krissker. And he is as strange a moggy as I have ever met.”
Lucas laughed. “Only you would be brave enough to use that word when surrounded by the things.”
Jerad had been sleeping when Krissker had ducked into the tent and squatted beside him, and he still could hardly credit what he had heard.
“He asked me about gods, human gods. And beliefs, like where the races came from.”
“Gods? He wanted to talk about religion?” Lucas sounded incredulous. “I told you he is strange. He said he had always thought there were similarities between our races.”
“If there are, I cannot see them.”
“I asked him why the Sunmanes had killed his family, and he said something about the Sunmanes being the most zealous of all the prides and the most fanatical about heretics.”
“Is he saying his family were heretics, that he and his brothers are?”
Jerad shrugged. “I did not think it was possible. For a Kajani to reject their Gods means to reject the Hunt, which is what they were made for.” He shrugged. “He was trying to tell me something important. But I do not see how it helps us now.”
Harren emerged from the tent, and the Kajani formed a circle about her, hiding her smaller form from view. He saw her throw small objects skyward, and then all bent their heads to look at the results on the ground. They selected and raised one, called out a name, and a Kajani at the back of the crowd lifted its arms and roared skyward. Another object and a name, another victorious roar. The selection continued. They did not select Krissker. And none of his brothers were.
Lucas had become still as he watched the hunters being chosen. Jerad patted his back, turning him towards the tent.
“We need to eat while we have the chance.”
As they turned away, he caught Krissker looking back towards them across the fire. He was the only one of the Kajani not engrossed in the ritual. They ducked into the tent, and Jerad tied the flaps closed to block out the sight of the triumphant hunters. Lucas settled himself on the ground, back against a tent pole. He pensively assessed the blade of his knife, drawing it, checking it, and putting it back in its sheath. “What happened to the feline that was with us? Did they get it?” he asked distractedly as he drew the knife again.
Jerad took a piece of raw meat that someone had given them. The Kajani ate raw mostly but had conceded to their human prey by allowing these pieces minutes over the fire. He chewed it and methodically assessed the buckles and straps securing his armor. Watching him, Lucas did the same.
“It has the luck of the Silence. It is still with us. I glimpsed her when we were brought into the camp. That cat wanted me to see it, I am sure. The Kajani cannot have noticed a thing.”
He paused in his work, chewing thoughtfully. Twice, he had seen the woman he sought; each time, it had been through the feline creature. Without a doubt, he believed it. He trusted it would lead him to her. He trusted it was watching the camp’s boundaries and would follow them. A lot to take on trust. And then there was Atramen.
“I was thinking about what happened in the city. Cullhain will have been seen. And there is only one place in Jonrah where you can find stormbirds.” Jerad looked at Lucas in surprise, then shook himself. Just because the boy was young did not mean he was stupid. The younger man’s thoughts followed a similar line to Jerad’s.
“Atramen is going to know we came from the Southlands. He is going to look for us, isn’t he?”
It was not a question. Jerad nodded, staring into space and not liking what he saw.
“Jerad, we must go back. We must warn them.”
“No, we must find the sorceress or all this has been for nothing.”
“Music, take the sorceress! She is responsible for all this. We need to alert the Southlands about the impending attack!”
Anger flared in Jerad. He turned to face Lucas. The younger man’s face was flushed, his eyes blazing, and his fists clenched. Jerad opened his mouth to speak, but a scratching sound from the back of the tent stopped him. They turned to see the dim outline of a shadowed figure hunched outside the tent. It dragged its claws down the material, making a rough scraping sound, like someone clawing at a door. There was a short, impatient growl, and then the claws smoothly tore through the tent’s fabric, low down, allowing a small tear through which a young black and white Kajani poked its head and shoulders. It looked at them with unblinking golden eyes and threw something on the ground. A tin whistle.
“I am, Krithlee, human. Daughter of Krissker. Take it and hide it. Betray us, and my den will be the first to feast on your hearts!”
With a snarl of pure animosity, the fiery young Kajani withdrew, and her shape became lost to the shadows outside the tent. Lucas and Jerad gaped at the tiny, battered object on the floor. Then Lucas snatched it up, clutching it triumphantly.
“The tune goes in our favor, Jerad!”
“It does indeed,” Jerad replied wonderingly. “Krissker and his family help us. I do not know why, but…” He laughed.
“We get away from the Kajani and then head for the Southlands.” Lucas’s eyes gleamed dangerously, daring the older man to argue with him. Jerad caught the tone and stepped up to him, eyes locked.
“Our mission is to find the sorceress.” He said, his tone rigid. But Lucas was afire with youthful passion.
“We could spend weeks out here searching, and all the time, those things will close on the Southlands. And then what? There must be a hundred villages between Fearnot and Ghoul’s Creek. They will have no warning. None! We cannot let it happen. I will not let it happen! As soon as we return to Cullhain, we are heading south as fast as he can fly!”
Suddenly, the tent flaps parted with a tear as a Kajani claw sliced neatly through the ties. A blackhead poked into the tent.
“It is time, humans. Time for you to run.” Krissker informed them. His eyes flicked to the back of the tent, seeing the flapping tear. Then, back to the humans. He knew what his daughter had done. She had done it on his orders. Jerad suddenly realized that a deep-seated conviction must be whatever motivated Krissker to aid the humans’ escape. He would not risk his offspring for anything less.
“Well?” Krissker purred. “Are you going to wait here for the Hunt?”
Jerad hurriedly put the rest of the meat into a belt pouch, cramming some into his mouth as he moved to the entrance. Lucas looked nervous, sweat beginning to glisten on his face.
“Do not summon your stormbird until you reach open ground.” Krissker hissed, ducking out of the tent. Jerad gaped. They followed. Outside, the pride stood on the other side of the campfire, with Harren standing separate from the rest. A group of thirteen stood to one side, stripped of clothes and straps. They carried no weapons except their claws. As Jerad passed Krissker, the Kajani whispered.
“Follow the moon to the river. There was a forest fire two runs upstream.” The words were so soft and delivered so quickly that Jerad almost doubted he had heard anything. Krissker had not looked in his direction as he passed, and Jerad did not react to the words. His mind raced. Harren stood before the rest of the pride. She raised her arms skyward, roaring to the twilight in the Kajani tongue. Then she leveled her paws at the two humans.
“Honor the gods and yourselves. Flee well and fight. Go, humans!”
Jerad broke into a jog, heading towards the rising moon visible above the trees to the east. A recent forest fire would have left open ground in its wake. He did not know how far a run was. It was clearly a Kajani measure of distance, and he had a sinking feeling that it represented a sizeable distance for a human. Krissker was sabotaging the hunt, though. It went against everything he had ever known about the Kajani. Great Song be with that big moggy and his family, Jerad prayed fervently.
They quickly became lost among the trees, and the thick darkness under the forest covering forced them to slow down. They were still heading towards the rising moon, and before long, they could hear running water. Jerad steered towards it, knowing the Kajani could not track them by scent through the water. They would track them to the river but then must choose upstream or downstream.
Lucas was ahead and making heavy work of the dark woods, so Jerad showed he should run behind. Jerad slipped through the murky wood with practiced ease, old instincts revived after years of burial beneath more civilized traits. Lucas followed, concentrating on keeping Jerad in sight instead of trying to distinguish a path through the gloom. They reached the river, almost toppling through the undergrowth and down the sandy, undercut bank. Crumbling soil and rocks descended into the water in a shower as the two slipped and slid down the bank. Lucas hurled a stone across the water in a flat arc at the riverside, listening. After a count of three, they heard the solid thunk of contact with wood.
“A good width,” Lucas commented. “A dozen paces, I would say.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Stick to the shallows,” Jerad ordered. “And do not touch a single thing, not a blade of grass. They will smell you on anything you encounter except water.”
They splashed downstream, hoping their head start was enough to put them out of hearing at this stage. Jerad resisted the urge to look back, knowing how pointless it would be. A backward glance would tell him nothing in this light and only trip him. He felt an itch between his shoulder blades. It was as though an arrow was being trained on his back.
On the far bank behind them, the undergrowth parted for a large feline head with unblinking golden eyes. It watched the two humans run and then slip back into the shadows.
Jerad's eyes burned from stinging sweat. His legs were a mass of flames, and his lungs felt scorched. The only exception was his booted feet, ice cold from the stream. He and Lucas were laboring upstream. The younger man had pulled ahead now, but both were struggling. The water had deepened, even on the edges, reaching above their knees and making every step an effort. Behind them, they had heard the concerted roaring of the Greyfoots as the hunters left the camp. Jerad tried to estimate how long ago that had been. An hour? Two? Since then, they had heard barks, coughs, and howls from the hunters, always behind them. Lucas was exceptionally good at pinpointing direction from sound, and he had mapped the position of the hunters behind them. They ranged from east to west, with their prey heading north, following the river. There had been no further sounds, and Jerad wondered if this was good. Lucas had sounded the whistle as they ran until the need to conserve breath forced him to stop. There was no sign of the stormbird yet. Suddenly, a black shape detached from the dark woods, launching at Lucas. At that moment, the young man stumbled on something hidden beneath the water, falling to one knee. A flashing limb raked his armor-covered back, spilling him over. Then it was into the water, tearing back towards them on all fours. Jerad had the whip-bow in his hands, unlatching the metal-tipped bowstring from one end. He whipped the bow around his head in a tight arc, then flung the string outwards into the attacker’s path. He felt it bite, heard a yowl of surprise, then pulled, raking the barbed tip through whatever flesh it had found to bring it back to his hand.
He had seen the damage these weapons could do in expert hands and had learned it during his years in the wilderness.
The shape danced away, eyes blazing. Lucas was on his feet in a shower of water, a spear outthrust with its butt buried into the soft stream bed. Jerad moved wide, presenting the beast with two targets, and giving himself room for the whip. It was one of the Kajani hunters, its eyes glowing bright gold as it looked from Jerad to Lucas. Then it was moving again, charging towards Lucas. He leaned back as it neared, twisting to the side as claws raked the air. The Kajani also twisted, somehow changing its direction in mid-flight, narrowly avoiding spearing itself on the raised spear point.
“Stay down!” Jerad ordered as he lashed out with the whip again. It hummed through the air, but the Kajani was ready for it. It reached up as the blade tip passed to grab the whip itself. Jerad lurched forward as the beast pulled with brutal force. Lucas was also moving, stabbing low with the spear. Another snarl and the line went slack. Jerad whipped it back to him, regaining his footing in the stream and circling wide again. The Kajani was now backed up against the bank, stepping clear of the water that hindered its prey. It crouched, readying a leap, when shadows engulfed it.
Two large figures silently dropped to the ground from the trees above. Between them, they held ropes connected to a shape that had covered the hunter. A net! They smoothly tightened the cords between them, bearing their captive to the ground and lashing its prison closed. An unearthly howling scream erupted within the net as it tried to free itself. One figure struck it hard three times. Silence.
“You did well to get this far, human,” Krissker said. “And you were lucky. Avikan caught your scent heading downstream but sent this one upstream as a scout to make sure. How did you do it?”
“I did nothing. I thought they would be right behind us.” Krissker looked at him silently, head cocked for a long moment.
“Keep your secrets then, human. But whatever trick you use, it will not fool them for long. When they see no other sign of you that way, they will assume that someone has played a trick on them.
“How far until we are free of the forest?”
“Your stormbird has been sighted ten runs to the north over the mountains. It was circling. I think looking for you. You summoned it?”
“Yes. How long ago did you see it?” “A quarter, no more.”
“How long is that?” Lucas demanded, still breathing heavily.
“This much.” Krissker held his arms aloft, measuring the distance between them. “Of the moon’s journey across the sky. A quarter of the way, yes?”
“About two hours.” Jerad translated. “How far away are the hunters?”
“A half, but they could turn at any moment…”
The night was suddenly alive with barks and howls. The hunters talk to each other across the forest. Krissker listened.
“They have turned. They come north, human. You must go now. We will deal with this one. Go!”
“Why are you helping us, Krissker?” Jerad asked, ignoring the order. “For all we know, you are leading us into a trap.”
Krissker snarled in outrage, taking three splashing strides to Jerad, towering over him.
“Do not insult me, human! My den mates and I have risked much this night.”
“Why? I did not ask you to put your family at risk?” Jerad refused to back down, staring up into the angry gold eyes.
“I do not follow the old gods, human. The Kajani have come far since we first awoke in the Motherwood. But we are not savages any longer. I wish to bring my people into the light. Many believe the same.”
“So, you have been sabotaging the hunts?”
“We do what we can. We cannot hinder every Hunt, as it would call attention down on my den. But you killed the enemy of my blood, and for that, I owe you a debt.”
“I wish you luck, Krissker.”
Lucas spoke up, “Krissker, there is something you should know. We were seeking a powerful sorceress who struck a blow against the evil in Argent. But we have now called down his wrath on the Southlands. His forces will come through your lands to get to us.”
He faltered under Kajani’s unblinking gaze, which mirrored the hard stare directed at him by Jerad.
“I... I just thought you should know.”
Krissker made a swift hand gesture, touching his head, heart, and forearm.
“I thank you, human, for the warning.”
The hunting sounds came again, closer this time.
“We will try to reduce Hunt’s numbers before they reach you. The line is strung out. The speaker explained that Avikan is inexperienced and lacks the understanding of how to arrange his hunters best.
“Thank you Krissker. I hope you succeed,” Jerad said, repeating Krissker’s gesture toward him.
As though unburdened, the two Kajani picked up their bundle, scaled the bank, and were lost in the trees.
“If they are heading north, there is no point slowing ourselves down trying to wade through this. We will take to the forest and try to make as good a time as possible.”
Lucas nodded, wasting no time scaling the bank. They ran.
*******************
The moon peaked through the trees as Jerad and Lucas ran. Behind them, the hunters howled, driving their prey before them. Suddenly, they broke through the tree line into an open space. The air was thick with char. The stench stifled them. Every step crunched through a thick layer of ash and burned wood. Jerad was breathing hard, soaked in sweat beneath the armor he wore. His lungs burned with the exertion, and he suddenly coughed as he breathed in ash kicked up by his boots. He doubled over but forced himself to keep moving. He moved through utter blackness. Clouds covered the night sky now. Scudding clouds obscured the moon. The tree line was an impenetrable darkness that merged with the scorched earth.
Lucas was sounding the whistle again, searching the sky. He was coughing, too.
“This way!” Jerad spluttered as he made for a small hill that rose from one end of the clearing. It was close to the tree line, leaving little or no warning of an attack from that side, but at least they would have the high ground. Lucas followed him.
“I cannot see him anywhere. Where is he?!” Lucas’s voice was desperate. They were halfway down the small hill when they heard a howl of triumph. Three shadowed figures burst from the tree line in various places, converging on the two humans. They would never make it to the high ground, Jerad realized. He unleashed the whip-bow, whirling it about his head. Lucas came up beside him, and the spear held firm.
A piercing shriek came from above. Cullhain descended into the clearing. Two Kajani hunters changed direction, evading the snapping beak, and raking claws rather than pursuing their prey. The other charged on, ducking beneath an outstretched talon, eyes fixed on its prize. Cullhain caught it from behind and hurled it into the air, catching it and hurling it again with a twist of his head. A cracking of burnt timber was Jerad’s only warning of a threat from behind. He turned, lashing out with the whip in a blindly thrown arc. A pale-furred Kajani darted back out of reach, and another with mottled red and black fur threw itself full length to the ground, somehow its powerful legs still propelling it forward. Lucas stabbed downwards with a cry of terror-inspired rage. He missed, and a powerful forelimb hurled him to the ground with a smooth backhand sweep.
Jerad lashed out again, and the hunter skipped nimbly back out of range, its black lips peeled away from its teeth in a rictus grin. Again, Jerad lashed, and again, it darted back, seeming to enjoy proving its superior agility. It settled back on its haunches as Jerad gathered the whip again. Its smile widened as its muscles quivered. But it had forgotten that what Jerad held was also a bow. With the Kajani pushed far enough back, he calmly attached the whip to the bow and smoothly knocked an arrow. The feline smile faltered, then the arrow took it in the forehead. Lucas regained his feet, wheezing and clutching his spear. The other Kajani was charging again. Jerad shot and missed. Lucas ducked low and thrust outwards and upwards with the spear. At the last second, the Kajani twisted aside, but the blade scored across its flank, producing a hissing yelp of pain.
Hunched over, Lucas stabbed at the wounded creature to keep it at bay. It circled them warily. Behind them, Cullhain scoured the clearing of Kajani as they emerged from the woods, swooping, screeching, and clawing at anything that moved. But there were too many of them. For each dark shape that was driven back into the safety of the trees by the great bird, another darted through, elusive as a shadow. Jerad counted four converging on them from one side, another two emerging from another.
“We need to get onto Cullhain. Get him over here!” He barked. Lucas fumbled for the whistle just as the wounded Kajani lunged for him. Jerad drew the bow, but the weight on his back sent him crashing to the ground. He thrashed at the figure which had knocked him down, rolling and finding his arm clamped by powerful jaws. He was dimly aware of Lucas, down with snapping jaws held inches from his throat by the haft of his spear.
“The Hunt is over, human. Know that Avikan of the Hollow Tree Den of the Greyfoots devoured your heart!”
The great jaws tightened around his forearm. Then, the body went rigid and slumped forward. Another shape stood behind it, a long blade at its side. In the flitting moonlight, he saw familiar patterns of white fur. It stood for a moment only before the Kajani, which had attacked Lucas, leaped at him. It never reached him. Arrows bloomed in its chest and legs, followed by the crack of unleashed whips, expertly directed. It stumbled and fell. Krissker finished it with a step forward and a single clean knife blow.
Lucas helped Jerad to his feet. A circle of Kajani now stood around the two humans facing outwards, bows, and whips ready. The Hunters, weaponless, stood at bay. The battle halted, and Cullhain circled above, low enough for them to feel the wind of his passage with each pass.
“Thank you, Krissker.” Jerad said, inspecting the armor covering his forearm. He confirmed it had been punctured, but what lay beneath did not feel like more than flesh wounds.
Krissker gave a sharp snarl. “This was not what I wanted to happen, human. I would have let you die rather than kill one of my pride.”
“Then, why did you?” Lucas asked challengingly. His eyes were blazing, face flushed. Jerad recognized the battle thrill that raced through the younger man’s veins.
“As we sought the Hunters…” Krissker hesitated as though searching for words. “A being found us. She told us of your quest.”
“Who?” Jerad asked as a lithe, green-eyed shape padded from behind Krissker to rub itself against his legs.
“Great song!” Jerad exclaimed simultaneously as Lucas said, “But that cannot be...that is…!”
“She...spoke...into my mind and showed me...the future paths. I saw the death of my pride.” He hesitated again, taking in the fallen Kajani scattered around the clearing. “In only one of those paths was my den spared. And that path required your survival.”
Jerad and Lucas looked at each other incredulously. “It...it...she spoke to you?” Lucas asked.
“Does she not to you?” the Kajani replied impatiently.
"No, Krissker," Jerad told him, attempting to avoid sounding like he had been asked a stupid question.
Krissker looked over his shoulder as one of his companions gave a complex series of growls. Krissker replied, and half of them moved off after the retreating hunters. They had their weapons ready.
“She did, human. The one you seek is called Alecyn, and this one will guide you to her.”
“After. We warn the Southlands first.” Lucas cut in.
“You will warn your people, flyer,” Krissker growled. “She will take the warrior to Alecyn.”
Jerad looked from Eevee to the massive Kajani. She was contentedly in Krissker’s arms, and now she leaped into the distance to Jerad, who caught her instinctively. Krissker turned away.
“What will happen to you, Krissker?”
The Kajani looked back over his shoulder.
“I will gather those who will follow me, and we will run to the east, south of the mountains. We will warn those we leave behind. I must see that as many escape as I can. The Greywood pride dies tonight, but Dancing Waters den will live on if I succeed.”
Lucas blew the whistle, and Cullhain settled to the ground as far from the remaining Kajani as possible.
“Thank you, Krissker,” he said, putting out his hand. The Kajani looked at it and ignored it. Lucas looked flustered for a moment, then said. “I can promise you a welcome in Fearnot if ever your people need a safe haven.” Jerad doubted the townsfolk would understand his pledge, but he knew Lucas meant every word. The Kajani appeared unmoved and loped away after regarding Lucas for a long moment. Then he stopped and called back, his voice a rumble on the wind. “Let us hope that our paths never cross again, human.”
Lucas turned to Jerad as Cullhain shifted and stretched his wings impatiently.
“Well, how is this going to work?” Lucas asked.
“No idea,” Jerad replied simply. The feline was going to sleep in his arms. “I don’t understand how a feline is going to…”
Jerad did not hear the end of Lucas’ sentence. The world whirled and danced around him. Amid a rushing blur of motion and soaring majestic music. Jerad lost sight of Lucas and the burned forest clearing. He lost all sense of himself. His body was behind him in the clearing. His body was here, somewhere else. He saw, but he had no eyes to see with. He screamed, but without a throat or mouth to make a sound. His screams got absorbed by the soaring music that permeated everything. He was one with the music, apart from it, an aberration, a corruption. It welcomed him into its embrace; The music tore him apart.
His vision returned. Sensation returned. The feline was leaping from his arms and dashing away. There was rocky ground beneath his feet, trees about him. The air was chilly on his face. Opposite him were three towers rising from within stone walls across a deep valley. He stood atop a slope of earth and loose stone, and as he looked down, he saw two women standing on the edge of a precipice. They were grappling for something that one woman held above her head. As he watched, first one, then the other, noticed his presence and a flash of recognition burned through him as his eyes met the one he sought.