Tamed wolves surrounded them, a multitude of yellow eyes looming in the dark amongst the brush and the trails through the tree lines. Tuya flowed into water form, dodging their uncoordinated assaults, lashing back at them with the spear, putting holes in throats, in torsos, hacking away at the muscles that held them upright and made them able to be so swift. The wolves were fast, as fast as Yaha had ever been in any of their training, but her eyes were able to see where they would go and her arms, well-honed weapons in their own right, knew how to put the spear where it belonged, and her legs knew how to step aside, flowing like water and trickling out of danger. Dodge, slash, block, thrust, dodge, repeat.
The creatures were more vicious in their targeting of Yaha. The Mahagan Spear leapt high, out of reach, running along tree branches, and crashing down onto a wolf, leaping back up before another could latch its teeth around Yaha’s leg. Their minds synchronized, both women entered a state that was both hyper-focused and simply being. They were able to read their enemies, to coordinate their strikes, and to just let their bodies perform movements etched into their memories from hundreds of nights of training for this moment.
Tuya darted around a hollow, using its size to separate her foes, luring them into spaces where she exploited their lack of coordination. Each tamer was hungry for glory, for their own personal achievements, and would move out of formation for a chance to be the one to please Gurgaldai. She shifted into empagong form, using her surroundings to defend her and allowing her to deliver deathblows as the wolves came single file into her kill zone. Tuya felt unstoppable, like the right arm of death. The monsters were so easy to dispatch, she felt truly unlike any other, like she was born to fight, to kill, to remind the strong that there was one who was strongest.
Thus, when one struck from her blind spot, finding a hole in the brush, and clenched its teeth around her arm, she was moderately surprised and more than moderately humbled. Tuya ripped her arm free, losing more flesh in the process as sharp teeth dragged across her arm. Growling, she leapt back into wind form and buried a spear into the monster’s eye, disgusted by the sight of her blood filling the creature’s maw.
Yaha crashed onto the beast a heartbeat later, pulsing with guilt that she let Tuya take a wound.
Keep going, Tuya projected, slaying another wolf with a thrust to the gullet, barely feeling the pain in her arm. Yaha leapt, higher and higher in the tree, seeking a hole in the tamer pursuit.
With each kill, the tamer consciousnesses fled, seeking another beast to bind. Men screamed in the night, shouting directions to each other, their foot patter through the forest announcing their approach. Though their consciousnesses went right on by, the tamers themselves in their own flesh charged forth. They killed those they crossed paths with, beasts or tamers, whether on their own or in groups. Yaha used the chaos as their shield, rushing them through areas already scoured by their pursuit, leaving bloody trails behind them, including the drips from Tuya’s own arm wound.
Whether they ran in circles or moved in any one direction with purpose, Tuya did not know. They kept moving, kept killing, kept seeking a place to hide. The longer the fought, the more Yaha’s doubts bled into their link. Gurgaldai’s threats grew ever-present no matter how much they each tried to ease the other’s dread.
Tuya bled, her left arm struggling to maintain the strength required to keep the spear up. She killed a tamer, and stumbled to her knees, falling forward as the dead man fell back. Tuya fought to free her spear, her arm hurting, her body struggling to keep up with her will. She felt like a bird with a clipped wing being asked to fly. So tired.
Yaha, despite her aches, despite her dread, helped Tuya liberate the spear from its place in the tamer’s skull. Tuya heaved from the effort, felt the strain lighting a fire on her shoulders, her back sore and wanting nothing more than to lie down in a comfortable nest. Neither voiced the awareness they both carried with them, leaking through the holes in the walls they tore down between them.
A bear growled, just beyond the set of hollows in the direction they were headed. Tamers howled, shouting their imminent coming behind them. A dense thicket blocked their path to the left. To the right, Tuya saw a meadow, a possible opening or a place where they could easily be surrounded. She staggered toward the meadow, falling to a knee after a couple steps, wincing as the pain crawled up her arm like a thousand flaming termites chewing through her flesh. For all her sight, Tuya did not see a way out of this. A hundred corpses trailed behind her and her mind sense could not feel their absence with how much hostile life still surrounded them.
Yaha was more stubborn than her. She hefted Tuya over her shoulder and leapt. She jumped over many body lengths of thicket and landed like a feather on the other side, narrowly missing the thorny brambles. Yaha leapt again and again, taking Tuya through the treetops and putting vast distance between them and their last known location. Despite having nothing left to give, despite an exhaustion beyond a less stubborn person’s breaking point, Yaha kept jumping.
Tuya’s love pulsed in the link as she used her wilding to try to make Yaha’s pain smaller. She would never be able to repay this woman who chose to be a mother when she could have given up seasons ago.
The only payment I need, Yaha projected, her body straining as she landed once more upon a thick tree branch, is for you to keep going. Now, enough feeling sorry for me, my little empagong. Use those eyes of yours and find us a safe place to hide.
I miss the dark place.
Amusement seeped through the exhaustion. Me too, Tuya. Me too. But when you are out of here, you will find better places. A little beam of light like you was not meant to stay forever in the dark, seeing the same walls every day. You will see the world and it will see you.
Tuya tried not to cry, tried not to do anything that would make it harder to see. She tried her best, but her best was far from perfect and those tears came.
You will find us a place. I know it. Yaha forced the belief through, Tuya sensing hope, but also the dreaded doubt from her mother and mentor. Yaha hung by a branch, not unlike the ones they traveled across, and it would only take one bad step for the branch to break and send her crashing down into the abyss.
Tamer consciousnesses streamed over the canopy, casting a haze between Tuya and the stars. All across the sky, between them and the Spire and the ocean, the gray vapor of those who seized power filled the night, coming from the Spire and within the Hollows. Tens of thousands of minds with the singular purpose of finding her and delivering her to the top of Celegana’s Spire. Tuya breathed and searched. In the distance, hundreds of birds squawked and flew over the Hollows, searching for them from above. Dashing along blood trails, wolves and other creatures traced their scent, catching it upon the wind. Tuya felt when they were nearing with her wilding sense and found pathways around them or places to lurk while they passed, each time fearing for her life, expecting that one wolf might look up or a bird would see them crouched on a branch, or that she might miss a little squirrel and it would chitter away their hope of escape.
They eluded detection, moving far from the place where Yaha took Tuya into her own arms. Tuya treated her bite with numbroot stem ointment and chewed another leaf, swallowing the bitterness that she would not need it for anything other than stopping bleeding. Yaha did not linger long, believing that once she slowed down, once her body received any signal that it was time to rest, it would never move again. If that was not enough motivation to keep going, they were soon reminded of why they ran.
The lion head of Chimaera roared through the night, scaring away any untamed beasts and raising the fear levels of the women huddled in their little hollows throughout the many regions of the hunt. Gurg approached, smashing through trees and roaming the land. If they were seen again…
Awful visions filled their link and Yaha pushed harder against exhaustion, Tuya’s eyes tuned in, helping Yaha avoid the birds patrolling the skies and seeking any sign of a place where they could hide.
When we escape, Yaha thought, crouching low to allow a flock of birds to pass overhead, her mind unable to hide her forecasts of her own death, I will take you to a place where you can learn to shoot arrows. With your eyes and sense, you will be the best sharpshooter in the world. You could drop all these birds out of the sky and they would never know where we were.
Tuya’s smile did not last long. The Chimaera roared, growing closer, making her doubt whether the link truly protected her from Gurg’s transcendental power. Wishful thinking was no match for the dread and Yaha’s own certainty that she would not survive the night. Visions of her dying to the Chimaera intruded upon their hope making it harder to seek sanctuary in the chaos.
Tuya fought to keep the light of hope alive. She prayed to her Divine Mothers, needing another miracle. Please, Celegana, let there be shelter in your land. Please, Norali, guide me with your light.
We need to find a high place, Yaha projected. A place where the wolves cannot smell us and a place where the birds cannot see us. A place where we can avoid tamers in the day when they scour each tree within thirty miles of the Spire. We need a—
Hole!
Several hundred body-lengths away, there was a huge red hollow that rose higher than the rest in its region. Hidden amongst its highest branches, far, far above the ground, was a great howler’s hole. A hole burrowed into the tree by one of the great howling birds. If the howler was gone, if Yaha could leap up the branches, if none of the birds saw them, they would be able to hide within without worrying about any tamed catching their scent.
Yaha could not see the tree, let alone the hole. Tuya directed her jumps, keeping her eyes on birds and her mind attuned to any surrounding life, tracing the thousands of tamer consciousnesses streaming through the night. She felt Yaha’s arms giving out, her shoulder burning from carrying Tuya, her feet struggling to grip to the branches, and her balance wavering with each successive leap. Wolves howled in the woods all around, tamers hooted, searching every hollow and interrogating little girls who soon cried after they were punched and kicked. Tuya tried to not let their pain stop her from moving forward. Yaha kept going, picturing waking up in the morning and seeing the sun rise above the smile of the young woman who held her heart.
Even the dark-eyed Mahagan woman could see the tree now, if not the howler hole far above hundreds of branches and all their leaves. Yaha forced herself to leap, her body slowing down, her mind churning with determination, with thoughts of protecting her daughter, of giving her the chance at life she deserved to have, that she wished she could have given her that day on the beach when she saved them, before the monster arrived.
Lightning crackled on the ram head’s horns in the nearby hollows, illuminating the night sky for a few moments. Thunder boomed and Yaha slipped on the branch, tumbling down, crashing through leaves and bringing down a rainfall of twigs with her.
Yaha released her spear, tossing it to the side, rolled sideways, back down, and gripped Tuya tight. Tuya clung to her, unable to stifle a shriek as the ground encroached upon them. Yaha slammed into the earth, the wind blown from her chest, agony seizing her back. Tuya staggered to her feet, feeling Yaha’s pains through the link. One of the thousands of tamer consciousnesses streaming through the air retracting into the great red tree. A big tamer looked out of the hollow. His eyes widened with recognition.
Tuya moved as fast as she ever had before, lurching forward, seizing her spear and hurling it several body lengths. The sharp rock point buried into the tamer’s neck. Tuya dashed, finding strength from somewhere unknown, took her spear, and finished the tamer off as he gurgled on his blood. Tuya thrust, in and out, half a dozen times, going until her wounded arm gave out on her. The tamer’s mind fled his body, seeking a second life.
She could not allow it, neither could she stop it without breaking her link. He will bring them here with his second life. They will see the body. They will know.
Yaha strained to her hands and knees, her body quaking from pain and exhaustion. One thing was abundantly clear, even if neither tried to voice it through their link: Yaha’s body was going no further. Tuya felt some of her strength restored after being carried through the branches for so long, but still, she was not going to leave Yaha behind.
The force of Chimaera’s roar resonated through the trees, shaking leaves and people alike. Tuya knew the monster was loud but it sounded like it was just on the other side of the trees, just past the edge of where she could see through the dense forest. She watched Yaha, refusing to voice the obvious as the woman failed to reach her feet again, slumping back to the forest ground.
Come to me, my little empagong.
Tuya shook her head. Get up, Yaha! Get up!
Come to me.
Tuya stood her ground, another roar echoing through the woods. Yaha looked broken, she looked far, far older than ever before. She was already the oldest woman Tuya ever met and now she appeared to be ancient, corpse-like, with her dark hair matted to her forehead, her eyes glazed, her skin sallow, face wrinkled, bruises all over her body, defined in stark detail through Lightseer eyes. Tuya could not look but neither could she look away. Reality set on her, she just refused to see it. Get up, Yaha!
Now is not the time for stubbornness, my little empagong. Help me up.
Tuya covered her mouth, to stifle the sobs. She took Yaha’s hand and pulled, pulled, pulled, dragging heavy weight that did not want to rise, as if it were rooted to the ground. She strained until Yaha’s feet were under her, her arm thrown over Tuya’s shoulder. Tuya tried not to think the thoughts, but they seeped from her, making her feel even more horrible that her final thoughts for Yaha were not ones of comfort and love but of fear and sorrow. Fear and sorrow brought about the guilt and the shame. Tuya should not have made her carry her for so long and so far, she should not have broken her link in the first place, she should have been more careful and not got bit, she should have kept her shriek in and maybe the tamer would have never heard them. She should have been strong enough to save Yaha, or at least strong enough not to make her last moments miserable.
Yaha’s link was free of those same shoulds. She reached out with loving kindness, touching Tuya’s shattering mind. Hold to me, child.
Tuya held, clinging to Yaha as they had many nights when the darkness took them. She held to the source of her light, the woman who had given her so much. Who, even now, continued to give.
I have one more thing to give you. Hold on!
Yaha leapt up, Tuya hanging to her. Her feet found the first branch, then the second, the third, and on. Slowly, they scaled the tree, the shouts of tamers seeming closer, the Chimaera’s roars breaking the night, thousands of consciousnesses swirling through the surrounding regions. Tuya held on, gripping to Yaha’s back as the woman leapt. Yaha carried her spear in her arms, using it to clear away little branches blocking their ascent. She found the strength somewhere, after it was all gone, after her body was a ruin from the battles and the fall and the long day.
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You are my strength, Tuya.
You are mine.
You may think so.
Tuya refused to debate her. Her eyes sought upward, trying to help Yaha find the next best leap. They ascended the branches of the giant red tree, this sequoia as Yaha named it, until even Yaha could see the hole near its top. Unfortunately, the reason she could see it was that there were few branches left, especially those worthy of carrying two women. Tuya’s eyes settled on the one she deemed stable enough.
Doubt permeated the link. Even in her best health, Yaha would struggle to make this leap, let alone this tired version of her carrying another person on her back.
When I was young, Yaha projected, Olono would dare me to make jumps like this. She sighed.
Did you do it?
Yaha’s amusement seeped into Tuya, making her lips rise. Of course! I was once a spry girl, eager to make her mark on the world, reckless to a fault, impervious to doubts. I was crazy Yaha.
You are still crazy, Yaha. Tuya slipped off Yaha’s back, her own feet touching the branch. She held the woman’s hands, infusing them with Celegana’s strength. You are a Spear. You are the embodiment of the Fourteenth, a hero willing to push herself beyond her limits for love. You are yourself, Yaha. That is all you ever need to be. Tuya imagined it in her mind’s eye, Yaha clearing the jump, Tuya on her back. Then, both could make an easy climb into the howler hole. They would rest and recover, gather what they could within the hole, and fill themselves with whatever they could find. One more jump was all that was between them and the end of this long night. They could still fly away to the faraway lands. Together.
I am still Yaha, Yaha projected, squeezing Tuya’s hands. Climb on, my little empagong.
Tuya wrapped her arms around Yaha’s back. The woman set her spear down, trying to hide it within the leaves of their branch. Get up higher, Yaha transmitted. I may need you to grab onto something.
Tuya obliged her, until her legs were swung over Yaha’s shoulders.
I always dreamt of carrying my daughter like this, Yaha thought, sadness and joy making an unlikely mixture of feeling.
Yaha gripped Tuya’s thighs, crouched down, prayed to Zafrir, We need the winds of change, Divine Zafrir. Bless us, so that she may carry change through the world. Yaha breathed in, held, and released. Then, she jumped.
The wind carried them upward, higher and higher, reaching toward the howler’s hole and the branch beneath it. Not high enough, Tuya knew, feeling the loss of weightlessness as the wind wavered beneath Yaha.
Tuya felt hands beneath her, pushing upward, launching her skyward for the last two body lengths of the jump. No Yaha beneath her, nothing but air, lots of it, the swarming of tamer consciousnesses, and whatever branches might hit her on the fall down to her death.
Tuya landed, belly down, onto the branch, her legs dangling over the edge. Sweaty hands grasped at the far side, reaching over the branch to support her upper body. The branch was wide enough to support her body’s width if not her length. Trouble was, it was her length that landed on the branch. Panting, her hands sweaty, Tuya swung her leg, lifting it over the lip, throwing her hips to the side, until, blessedly, she felt nothing beneath her but the branch.
She held there, the terror now fully entered into her awareness, and breathed. Her fear encompassed all of her feelings, stifled her thoughts. There was no sense of Yaha. Yaha!
I am here, Tuya. Good landing.
The woman was calm, her mind peaceful even. No wonder Tuya lost sense of her, her own fear drowning out such a discordant state of mind. I will never, ever, refer to that landing as good!
Yaha ignored her, the way a serene stream might ignore the splashing of an angry little girl. Keep going, Tuya. Up the branch.
Tuya obliged, not liking the sway of the overgrown stick beneath her body. She hoped she only imagined the feeling that it was sinking, getting lower and lower. Visions of it cracking and sending her plummeting to her death swam through her consciousness. She dragged herself up the branch, crawling toward the trunk, sliding over smaller branches and their plumage, all while breathing in and out relentlessly. Only when at the edge of the tree’s trunk, just beneath the howler hole, when her anxiety dipped just below catastrophic panic, did she glance down.
Yaha slumped against a lower branch, her eyes pointing up at Tuya. Tuya knew then that Yaha was not the serene stream, but the creek that dried up in the summer heat. The old woman was not planning on making it through the howler hole. She accepted her end.
Through the hole, Tuya, Yaha pulsed, her mind sense so weak that the thought felt far away.
Not without you!
You will never be without me. You know that.
Stubborn, even in death. Forget fear. Anger and sorrow made the fear small. That’s right, Tuya projected with a blast of bitterness. If you die, so do I.
Into the hole, Tuya.
Tuya held still, refusing. Chimaera roared, and her eyes saw movement underneath her. Birds patrolled the skies throughout the region. Now, they were beneath her current height, or even Yaha’s. At any moment, they could be discovered and everything would come crashing down. She would leap before she gave herself to Gurg. Without Yaha, without a link, she could not escape. Perhaps her mind could live on, seek a new host, and still fight for the Wilders. The Leverians believed in a Paradise where all loved ones would be reunited in death. Perhaps, she would see Sarnai again, and Zaya, and never be without Yaha. Darrakh might even be there. Someday, Masarga would join her. Even if there was nothing else after this, she preferred that nothing to something enslaved to Gurg.
No. You will crawl into that hole. You will live. You will not give up.
The audacity! You dare command me to not give up?
I should know better, shouldn’t I? Unlike my sailors, you never obey my commands. I could imagine pulling out all my hairs were you a crewmate aboard my ship.
Tuya refused to indulge Yaha’s humor. She was growing just as angry as she was sad, wishing the woman would at least treat this moment with the gravity it deserved. Zaya, Sarnai, Darrakh … none of them laughed in the face of leaving her behind. Tuya doubted she could ever laugh again.
My little empagong does not move for authority, Yaha projected, fainter than ever. She does not respect her elders. My little empagong is only moved by love, and, despite all the times you have resisted me, I would have you no other way. You are you and that is all I ever want you to be. I love you so much.
The anger dissipated, leaving behind a torrential sadness. Tuya felt like she was drowning in that downpour and the flood from a life full of downpours. Just once, she wanted to be proven wrong, that not everybody would leave her behind to face this world alone.
Very well. I will try. First, go into the hole, my little empagong. The last thing I need is you getting in my way when I leap.
You promise?
I promise.
Tuya tried to read Yaha’s mind, but felt nothing but the faint sense of calm. In truth, she thought the woman lied to her. Still, she rose, she hoped, and she kept going.
Tuya hugged the trunk of the tree and let her legs find themselves. Zafrir, the Divine prick, buffeted her with mighty gusts of wind and she clung tight to the tree, the fear of death reminding her that she wanted to live. Seasons of drills, of standing on one leg, of finding her center no matter how much Yaha tried to get her off-balance, kept her steady. Tuya climbed, rolled through the hole, and flung herself inside. She tumbled into something soft but scratchy, landing with the grace of the least coordinated person ever to fall into a pit. At least she didn’t spear herself. That was something to be grateful for.
Still, there was little else worthy of thanks. There were no blessings in this hole. Dead branches, detritus of decomposed fur and leaves, the bones of baby howlers, likely abandoned by a tamed mother. Tuya settled in, taking whatever comfort she could in this dark place of death.
Alas, like most things in the Hollows, comfort was too much to hope for.
Tuya, you must find Masarga, and link with her. I will leap down to the ground and try to get as far from here as I can, to lead them away from you. Stay in the hole all day, in the night, see if you can—
No! You promised!
Sadness broke through Yaha’s peaceful calm. Tuya felt the tears, the sobs, the agony of a mother leaving behind her daughter. I cannot keep that promise, my child. I wish I could. The hole is too high and I am too weak.
Tuya wished she could have felt sadness instead of anger, instead of disappointment. When did she ever get what she wished for? You do not get to give up on me.
I am not giving up, Tuya. I gave you everything I have. I am so tired. I have nothing left to give. Nothing but my death.
Tuya curled into herself, until her knees were pressed against her chest. She sobbed, as did Yaha, on some branch impossibly far below, rather than where she belonged in this hole. Everyone goes away from me. I cannot keep them safe. All I do is get the people I love hurt.
You do not hurt me, child. You saved me. You are the greatest thing I have ever done. Never blame yourself.
Tuya could have more easily jumped atop the Spire and killed Gurg as she could have stopped blaming herself. Every great mistake came back, every person dead or driven away remembered. Her hands covered in Sarnai’s blood, the log… Zaya being pulled away, taking a beating because Tuya could not let go of her, because Zaya comforted her even in one of the worst moments of her own life. Now, Yaha, the woman who carried her through a hopeless night and gave her everything, would die in order to keep her safe. She was a failure, a plague upon the people she loved who only made them hurt more and more until they were gone.
Yaha’s sorrow pulled Tuya even deeper into her own pain. She could not even give her mother peace of mind in her final moments. Yet another failure.
You do not fail me, Tuya. You give me strength, as you always have.
I have taken everything from you.
No, Tuya, you have given me more than you could imagine. Through the link, Yaha devoted her whole will to transmitting the truth of her words. Tuya was barraged by a thousand moments of gratitude, of purpose, of hope, of love. From the first moment atop the cliff overlooking that forsaken beach, to tonight, and how proud Yaha was of her for enduring, for becoming who she was, the most precious pearl, the scared, little bud that bloomed into a brave, mighty flower, for her little empagong whose song would be heard across the world, who would spread hope wherever she went. Yaha felt fulfilled, a woman once full of holes, now whole.
Can you feel the truth, Tuya? You are my strength. You will go on and I will be with you, giving you my strength.
Giving strength. Giving strength. Tuya used her wilding, making Celegana’s essence, her strength, restore life to one of the branches in the forgotten nest. For seasons, she gave Celegana’s strength through her links, letting plants and people alike flourish and become more of themselves. What if she could use the link to make people more like her instead? What if she could give them her strength?
Tuya closed her eyes, trying to defy the possible, trying to will her mind, her body, her spirit, into Yaha. Tuya abandoned her own body, traversing her strength through the mental link to Yaha. She immersed herself inside of Yaha, merging with her. She could not control Yaha, the way tamers did, but perhaps she could allow Yaha to control her strength, to take it as her own.
Yaha’s mind sense grew stronger, infused with mental energy from Tuya. Tuya! What are you doing!
You taught me not to give up, Yaha. Now, I will teach you. Hope lit the link, like light in the darkness, giving Tuya the strength to keep going, even as her body and mind became less of herself.
Yaha’s eyes were good eyes. Yet, they could not see in the dark, could not detect the color of the feathers of any of the birds swirling in the Hollows below them, could not detect the thousands of tamer consciousnesses seeking for them, seizing whatever beasts they could to hunt them. Until they could.
Tuya! Even as she protested, Yaha’s consciousness was a place of wonder. Her own stubbornness began to crack. For once.
Take my strength, just as I have taken yours. Be more of me.
Yaha could not possibly stand, let alone leap. She could not reach for the wind that had been her constant companion since she took the first leap after bonding Olono. Until she could. Yaha’s body borrowed the vigor of Tuya, shedding years of wearing and tearing, becoming young again, full of life. Strong. Strong enough to fly. Strong enough to not die.
Tuya!
Tuya’s awareness of her own body dimmed as she gave herself to Yaha. Distantly, she felt the exhaustion, the thirst, the famish. For all that, she had no regrets. What greater gift could one give to themselves than a life without regret? Perhaps, a life with their friend, their mentor, their mother?
Take my strength. Fulfill your promise.
Yaha leapt. Higher, higher, higher, the wind carrying her toward the branch. The light of hope was brighter than the sun, as even Yaha’s stubbornness was blasted away by the radiance of Tuya’s hope. She soared over the branch, easily landing on it. Yaha hurdled herself into the howler hole, landing with the grace of someone who had done this before, and done it well.
Take it back! Yaha projected, trying to expel the borrowed strength, but being careful not to break the link. She handled Tuya like she was the most fragile and most precious flower.
Tuya was no fragile flower, though she did feel precious. She retracted her strength, giving Yaha less of her, severing their union without breaking the link. Her mind was her own, her body was her own, even if she shared thoughts, feelings, and intuition with Yaha. Her strength, alas, was no more. Yaha depleted it or it was lost in the transfer, leaving them both exhausted and broken in this dark place without the bounties of their Divine Mothers. No water from Yaha’s Dalis and no food from Tuya’s Celegana. They were famished, thirsty, and more tired than either had ever experienced.
But they were alive, they were linked, they were hopeful. They were together.
The chimaera roared from someplace beyond the howler hole. Tuya imagined, with vindictive glee, Gurgaldai’s frustration, his rage, his sorrow.
You beat him. Again, Yaha projected. Thank you for not giving up on me.
Tuya nestled against Yaha as they settled into the giant nest within a hole in a tree several hundred feet above the ground. For what felt like the first time in ages, she was happy, she was safe, she was whole. I will never give up on you.
Yaha smacked her lips together. “Who is the stubborn one now?”
Tuya smiled. Still you.
Yaha nudged Tuya’s head. Love you.
Love you too.
It did not take long to drift into a deep slumber. Tuya could have hibernated for ages and still awakened tired, but the first rays of light were not long in the waiting and they shone through the howler hole. Until they did not.
Tuya heard the noise, as if through a long cavern, a susurrus fluttering upon the air. Her eyes opened, dazed, not wanting to see anything other than the insides of her eyelids, then closed again, lulled back into sleep by the comforting noise, by the dimming of the light as something occluded the sun.
Her mind tried to differentiate what was real and what was imagined. Was she dreaming this? This noise? The ebb and flow of light as it waxed and waned through her eyelids?
She remembered Chimaera, the hideous beast, harbinger of destruction. Her and Yaha’s senses, perhaps dreams, merging in terror as the beast killed Yaha. Once with the crushing coil of the hissing serpent, another with the gnashing teeth of the roaring lion, and once more with the crackling lightning of the bleating ram. Leaving her alone against Chimaera, Gurg’s voice emerging from each mouth. You cannot escape me, Chosen.
Tuya felt at her side, heart pounding fast, breath spiking, body trembling, grasping with enervated fingers for her mother. Still here. Yaha was warm, breathing slow, heart beating steady. Alive. Only imagined.
The noise did not go away, light no longer entered the howler hole.
Not a dream? Tuya opened her eyes, glanced up at the hole.
She staggered to the far side of the tree, claiming her spear. Yaha! Wake up! Now!
Panic swept through her senses, jolting Yaha awake. The haggard looking woman saw the same things Tuya did, reaching for her spear and pressing her back against the far side of the tree.
Tuya clung to her spear, her eyes taking in the mist of tamer vapor swirling around the snow-capped head, the single, beautiful eye colored like the rising sun, the large, lethal beak snapping at them, straining to fit deeper into the hole.
This is a dream, Tuya projected. Just a dream. She tried to wake up, tried to beg for a different reality. Her eyes refused to open any more than they already did. Realization dawned on her.
There is no escape.