We come to a stop. In preparation for the communication that’s surely about to happen, I repeat my ‘translation’ strategy. Now having more of an idea of what I’m doing, the process is a lot shorter. This time, I manage to ‘tune’ in before much of the conversation has elapsed. River is speaking, perhaps in response to a question one of the lizard-kin in front of us has asked.
...when I was searching for the herbs my master sent me out for. I saw its curiously crafted weaponry and thought it might be useful to you, honoured Path-walkers. The ‘Path-walkers’, whatever that means, are clearly curious. Clearly to River, that is, though even I would be able to interpret their body language as showing more than disinterest. The fact that they appear to be eyeing me hungrily isn’t reassuring, but according to the interpretation in River’s mind, that’s just interest rather than a desire for me to replace the corpse they’re crouched around.
One of the slim humanoid crocodiles stands up and looks at me, twisting its head slightly from side to side. I realise that it must be to get a better look at me: the lizard-folk do have binocular vision, but their eyes are more set to the sides of their face than mine are; their binocular vision may not be as acute as mine.
It’s a curious prey, the lizard-kin says, turning back to its brethren. I have not seen its like before. Have any of you? Most of the others now straighten, coming to inspect me. Two actually touch me, one using a clawed paw to prod at my cheek, then feel my hair; the other squeezing me in several places, fortunately avoiding the area I would most assuredly not want those claws anywhere near. I seethe with anger but manage to push it down, settling for balling my fists until my knuckles crack.
The vine fetters are not much of an obstacle, really. I could have probably broken them with a bit of straining when I arrived here as a baseline human; all the extra Strength which I’ve gained means that I almost have to put effort into not breaking them. However, fighting back right now is likely to get me hurt or killed, not to mention put them on the alert. For my plan to work, they need to see me as a curiosity, not a threat.
Apparently the consensus is that none of them has seen one such as me before. Big surprise, since I’m apparently the only human on this wretched world. After deciding that, they seem to lose some interest in me personally, moving to look at the items River had ‘taken’ from me. These attract a lot more attention, several wordless exclamations rising from those poking and prodding at the tools. One of the lizard-kin turns around to speak to River.
You have done well, young Runs-with-the-river. Put the prey in the cage and stay here for now. We will decide how to reward you after we have properly investigated these new crafts.
Yes, honoured Weaver, River says, raising his chin for a moment. Perhaps it’s their version of a bow – certainly that would match the submissive feeling that drifts over the Bond as he does it. The Path-walker turns back to the huddle, the group momentarily ignoring us both.
River hesitates as he looks between me and the ‘cage’. I follow his gaze and swallow dryly. It’s small, clearly designed for creatures half my size. Bigger than the average dog crate, though not by much, I’ll be rather squashed. My mind races. Can we do something now? The Path-walkers are distracted by the items I made, after all.
I shake my head involuntarily as I decide against the plan. The Path-walkers may be distracted, but what about all the other lizard-kin around here? They’re unlikely to look away as one of their own and a strange unknown creature start raiding their huts and then trying to escape. No, we need to wait until the area is clearer, probably nightfall. Maybe even later. Unless the lizard-kin decide to kill me: then all bets are off and we’ll have to fight our way out. At least, I hope it would be we, not just I.
Do it, I tell River grimly, trying to psyche myself up for getting crammed in a too-small space which will completely remove all possibility of defending myself from the group of carnivores surrounding me.
But-
The longer we hesitate, the more suspicious we look, I snap back at him, interrupting whatever argument he has. I force myself to calm down: it’s not River’s fault I’m particularly sensitive to enclosed spaces after my spelunking experience. Though it’s kind of his fault that I’m here at all, if only indirectly. Still, none of that is useful right now. Unless you have an idea that doesn’t end up with us fighting the whole of this village? I manage to ask reasonably neutrally. He hesitates for a moment longer, then starts moving towards the cage, pulling at my neck with the vine, though more gently than before.
No, I don’t, he admits glumly. There are too many people around, he adds, echoing my own thoughts. We reach the cage and River moves behind me. I prepare to be pushed into it, bracing myself. He doesn’t do that, not at first, anyway. Instead, I feel my wrists part as he slices through the binding holding them together. I quickly rub at the red marks, intentionally not sending healing magic to them: the fewer aces I reveal, the better, even when it appears that River is the only one watching.
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The vine binding around my neck is the next to be cut through. River then puts a hand on my shoulder and, gentler than I was expecting, pushes me down and forwards. Breathing through the panic that rises as I start to crawl into the enclosed space, I feel him cutting through the hobble stopping my feet from moving too far apart. When I pull my legs in, starting to shift into a hunched sitting position, I see him shut the door.
Closing my eyes, I battle with my fear. I hadn’t realised how much my experience in the tunnel to the salt cavern had impacted me: claustrophobia has never been something I particularly struggled with. Though maybe this isn’t just because of the small space: it’s also the feeling of intense vulnerability, unable to defend myself even as I am surrounded by enemies who could turn on me at any moment.
Idiot, I tell myself. How is this any better than Plan A? I’m having to trust River either way; at least trusting him to get Lathani out of here by himself would have meant I could wait with Bastet rather than in a cage.
I’m sorry, River says, sounding miserable.
For what? I ask, using the conversation to distract me from the impulse to just start clawing at everything I can reach, struggling against the cage until I burst free – and then have to fight the rest of the village and not even get to Lathani.
For this. I can feel your fear. I…I just want to get you out of there, out of here. You’re not safe and the knowledge tears at my insides.
Why do you care? I demand, my curiosity actually pushing away some of the panic. We were enemies when the sun rose today – if I hadn’t created the Bond with you, you’d have happily killed me, I point out. There’s a short pause before River responds.
I mentioned before about my core values being replaced, he says slowly, his own emotions coming across as tumultuous. Once, my highest priority would have been following my master’s commands, and pleasing the honoured Path-walkers. Now, it is following your orders and ensuring your wellbeing. To intentionally put you into a position which is directly counter to that… He shakes his head and stops, but the tumult of feelings within him says more than his words could.
Silence elapses after our conversation dies out. I allow myself the time to think through what River has just revealed. The Path-walkers are communicating quietly enough that River can only pick up vague parts of their conversation from the colours flashing on their spikes. They’re interested, curious, and excited which, frankly, is as good as we could have hoped at this moment in time. Other than that, there’s not much to distract me from considering River’s situation.
I suppose it makes sense. That’s why Spike protected me all the way at the start from the black blob – instead of his core drive being about his own survival, it became about me. The same with Bastet – I’ve never felt even remotely unsafe with Bastet ever since she accepted my Bond, despite her having been part of a pack that literally tried to kill and eat me not that long before.
River seems to be a different kettle of fish though and it takes me a few moments to work out why. A frown creeps onto my face as I dig more deeply into what my instincts are telling me. At least it’s distracting me from my panic about feeling trapped.
After some deep thought, during which I stop paying attention to the Path-walkers, I think I’ve managed to hit on what feels different: sapience. Bastet is smart, there’s no doubting that, but she’s still an animal. She’s driven by instinct rather than thought. While she can be surprisingly analytical at times, it’s purely about how to best approach a situation, not whether she should approach it.
Take our first day together, for example. I was worrying that she would be upset about sharing space with the killer of her pack; she turned out to be worried that I was about to feed her and her cubs to said killer. At no point has she sought to get revenge for her pack: although she misses them and the bonds they had, she lives in the present, not the past. Her pack is dead and we are her new pack.
I guess that when I Dominated her, that drive in the Bond to serve and protect me simply took the place of a similar drive to protect and cooperate with her pack. A drive which had been abruptly removed as her pack had been killed, apart from the cubs, and protecting them was the only thing she required of me in order to submit to me. I’ve come to realise that she sees me as the leader of her pack, nothing more nor less. The Bond is almost irrelevant in that I suspect that, as long as she saw me as the leader, she would continue acting in exactly the same way, Bond or no Bond. Though it would be more complicated without a connection that allows me to communicate properly with her, for sure.
River is a different story, though. He’s a clearly thinking being, as are the rest of his tribe. Perhaps I’m making too much comparison with humans, but if he’s anything like we are, he’s capable of overcoming base instinct and choosing to do something different. Does that mean that he’s able to choose not to serve me? That he can choose to attack or withhold assistance rather than protect? Probably – that’s exactly what he’s doing now, although he is doing it at my insistence, which may make a difference. He’s admitted that he’s torn essentially because his drive to serve me is warring with his drive to protect me.
I can sense that he would still be compelled to obey to the letter if I gave him a clear instruction, but I don’t like the idea of having to wrap him up in a web of orders. What I love about my bond with Bastet is that I can trust her to act in our best interest without needing specific instructions; I hope that the same can be true of River. I certainly wouldn’t trust that to be the case right now, though. Actually, this realisation has only made me more certain that choosing to be part of the plan to rescue Lathani was the right thing to do, regardless of the risk to me. After all, if River is capable of defying the Bond in any sort of way, leaving the whole rescue plan in his...paws, seems the height of stupidity. At least if he betrays me, I have options; if I’d left the rescue to him, I might have been stuck waiting for him to come to me while Lathani was being sacrificed ahead of schedule. Worst case scenario, sure, but it’s serious enough that I wouldn’t dare to risk it.
Well, I guess that if ever a situation were to be the crucible and the test of our Bond, this is it. He’s being directly confronted with the beings who have been his world for – probably – his whole life, and yet is having to operate according to my orders in opposition to them. All I can hope in this situation is that he believes in my promise to do what I can for their tribe if he helps rescue Lathani. That he chooses to follow the spirit of my plan, especially if things go wrong. And that if it comes down to the Bond warring against his desire not to go against his people, that the Bond will win out, at least enough to get Lathani and myself out of the village.
While I’ve been musing over River, my attention has been drawn to the construction of the cage in which I’m sitting. It’s certainly not what I would have expected.