Ravenous (Taint of the Gods #1)

19. RHYDIAN

19

RHYDIAN

R ieka’s fever broke a few hours after dawn. The arrow wedged in the muscle of her shoulder had been serrated, designed specifically to stop once it caught muscle where the poison it had been tipped with would work its way into the person’s system. A slow death or an easy kill. The choice stood with the Hunter.

It shouldn’t have happened so fast but from the way I’d been tracking her through the woods, Rieka sped up the flow of the poison with her erratic running, flooding the poison through her system.

It had been dread that sent me running when I’d sensed her suddenly slow. When I’d found her in the cave I’d thought, “Good. She listened to me.” I hadn’t expected to find her feverish, her pupils blown, sweat dripping off her face and her blood poisoned. I never thought I would have been thankful to a god, but there must have been one watching over her. The poison coursing through her blood was Aridican, a plant only native to Kensilla and the poison of choice for Kensillan Purists. If it had been Drake venom I’d be burying her in a shallow grave.

I found the Callow Moss for the antidote at the base of a tree a few hundred meters from the cave mouth. If I hadn’t run these woods a hundred times before, Rieka would likely have died by morning. Aridican was a nasty slow working poison that if left untreated would have led to violent bouts of self-inflicted injury brought on by paranoia and hallucinations hours before the fever ever hit. Rieka’s habit of running away saved her life.

I’d pulled her coat from my rucksack and draped it over her in the night before activating the Kindling Orb. Apexes like Rieka could normally regulate their body temperature in this climate but in her state, it was not possible. But the tech device seemed to do the job. She curled up right next to it and didn’t wake until the soup was ready.

“Rhydian?” She looked around the cave as though she expected to see someone else.

Easing into a sitting position, wincing when she put weight on her left arm she asked, “How are you here?”

I handed her a cup of the soup, the hare and root vegetables smell enough to cause my stomach to grumble. “Careful. I had to cut it open to get the arrowhead out. You’ll need to let Sal look at you when we get back.” I hadn’t often found a need to stitch a wound closed.

“If we get back.” Rieka put the cup rim to her lip and drank as she stared at a space on the opposite wall.

I scooped out a cup for myself and did the same.

Halfway through her third sip she suddenly stopped and hastily began examining her body, rustling in that wrap around her chest. “To your left,” I said indicating to the collar I removed from it when I’d tended to her wound. She said nothing as to how she procured it. I was surprised to see her in possession of one at all. The Hunters made a game of it—the more collars one took from the "game" the bigger the prizes they would be awarded back in Aredyn, the Kensillan capital.

I wasn’t entirely sure why she took it. Maybe Rieka intended to use it on me, though that would entirely defeat the purpose of my trying to keep her alive, and she knew that now.

Rieka retied her wrap, tucking the collar inside against her chest and finished her soup in silence before she spoke again. “You didn’t answer my question, how are you here? I must have run ten miles in the night, and last I checked Bloodhounds need blood to track someone.”

I leaned back against the cave wall, scooting my feet closer to the Orb to warm the soles. “The blade in your boot. You nicked me earlier.”

A frown that looked more appealing than it should have emerged on her sharp features. I looked away as she shifted to reach into her boot.

She put the tip of the blade to her nose. “Homeopaths can scent that small a drop?”

“Sense, not scent.” I didn’t know why I corrected her. I took another mouthful of soup and swallowed thickly.

“And you tracked me through the forest just like that?”

“Well, I couldn’t very well ask for a drop of blood right there in the hall, could I? That would defeat the purpose of this little arrangement wouldn’t it,” I replied flatly.

“Says the man who used his taint to demonstrate his death-sentence-worthy-power in a public place.” She looked at me with such disdain, that I half expected her to spit in my face.

“If that’s what you got from that conversation, then feel free to walk out of the cave. I was obviously exaggerating the Hunts.”

Rieka refrained from commenting.

She pouted, eyes forming slits, mouth pursed, arms crossed over her chest as she lay back down on the floor in fuming silence. This day was going to be long.

An hour had passed, neither one of us speaking to the other when Rieka stood and walked past me to reach the end of the tunnel.

“Going somewhere?”

“To relieve myself.” Slowly, she looked at me over her shoulder and added, “Unless you would like me to do it here if that’s your thing. I don’t judge. To each their own.”

And I thought nothing could surprise me.

When she came back, instead of returning to her place by the Orb, as though she had done it a thousand times before, Rieka slid down the wall taking up a position beside me, her body pressed up against mine. Then quite casually, she removed my hand from my pocket, held it in hers, then stuck them both back in my jacket and snuggled into me.

“Can I help you?” I asked, trying to ignore the way my body reacted to her presence.

She rested her weight on my arm. “Bodies get warmer faster when they’re skin to skin.” She was playing that game now?

“That usually only counts when both parties are naked.”

She shifted to rest her chin against my shoulder, her brows raised suggestively. “Do you want to strip or should I?”

“Damnit woman!”

“You know I heard that.”

How could she be so infuriating with so few words? I took a deep breath, reached into my pocket with my free hand and pried her from it. “We’ve no audience here Rieka. There’s no need for the show of affection.”

Leaning in until her face was inches from mine, her voice even more suggestive than those grey storms were, she professed, “Well if that’s what you got from our little conversation then you weren’t listening. Everything I do is for your benefit Rhydian, from the moment we kissed.”

Those grey eyes drifted to my lips, her expression one of longing and she purred, “My life is yours, Rhydian.” It was a false longing, but she was very good at it.

“Aren’t I blessed.” Slowly, I too moved towards Rieka, letting my body’s urge to feel her against me again take over. A controlled decision. She didn’t startle, but I didn’t expect her to. I let my eyes drift down to her mouth, my gaze caressing the fine lines of the curve of her lips. She leaned in closer and I lifted my hand to her cheek. When I was certain the fear I’d witnessed in The Bathhouse would not surface in her, I gently grazed my thumb over the flesh of those two supple lips.

“Does this work on all men,” I said, my voice low and breathy, “this fawning and self-righteous honesty because it’s doing wonders for my ego.”

The longing in her eyes died and she sat rigidly upright as she swatted my hand away. “I frankly haven’t been this confident in myself for...” I paused to drag out that fuming expression clawing at her face. “A month.”

Rieka scowled a blank sort of nonchalance as she stood from beside me and returned to her original position by the orb.

“No please, don’t go.” My tone remained flat as I continued to mock her. “Come back.”

She clomped down, laid on her back and rolled over providing me with a lovely view of her curves.

“I miss you.” I probably should have stopped at the “come back“ but her expressions were just too delicious.

Rieka was definitely a wolf. She couldn’t settle in one place. For thirty minutes she shifted to several positions around the Kindling Orb until she finally settled on a spot directly opposite me along the cave wall.

She spoke again while examining her clothes making a mental count of what needed mending—there were several tears in her shirt sleeves and a rather jagged one caused by the arrow.

“Why were you in Keltjar?” she asked, her gaze on the fabric of her pants where the knee had torn.

Admitting I’d been sent there to acquire her for the buyer was probably not going to improve our situation, especially since I mistook her friend for her. A white-haired, pale-eyed Brute was all the parameters I’d been given, that and to be wary of her temper. Krisenya Tenamai fit all those requirements and Rieka had not. She had seemed every bit human when we’d met. I had found her closeness to the Kanahari in that mountain village unusual, but they had a fondness for her that I hadn’t seen before. For all I knew her colour-blanched hair could have been due to sharing that heritage. As a culture, they weren’t inclined to share much of it with outsiders, yet Rieka hunted with one regularly and drank with the other. In truth, her friend being a Terrestrial had cemented my choice. But I couldn’t tell her all that.

“The buyer wanted a white-haired pale-eyed Brute, I got them one. When they found out about you being on the train, they wanted you.” Even I knew she couldn’t detect a lie in that statement.

“But why Keltjar, you could have gone to any number of villages in The Hetra, why Keltjar, why stay at the Old Man’s Hearth?” She pulled at a thread in her pants, snapping it off.

“The buyer said that’s where I’d find what they wanted.” Again. No lie.

“And how exactly did they know that? Kris was only staying in town because of me.”

“You’ll have to ask them that when you meet.” I watched as her body slumped in position, a kind of physical resolve washing over her. Had she finally realised there was no way out of this for her?

“Pity” was the word that came from her lips.

Curious as to the odd answer, I asked, “Why pity?”

“Because that’s never going to happen.”

I could feel my brow furrow. I was perplexed. “Still so confident that you’re going to win the bet, that I’m going to give up my plans and save you, choose you over everything I’ve worked years to accomplish.”

She looked me straight in the eyes, that ever-present storm suddenly calm and said, “Yes.”

I marvelled at the sheer confidence this woman had. “And where exactly does one get such confidence?”

“In a pit of yellow-eyed vipers.”

Rieka was a patient woman. When I’d told her it would be safer to remain in the cave for the day and head back out into the forest come twilight, she hadn’t questioned me. I’d scavenged this forest a thousand times before and if I had never seen this cave it was safe to say the Hunters didn’t know about it either. So we would be safe for now.

She took to some odd form of physical movement soon after, eyes closed, her lips moving mutedly whilst her arms waved around. When I asked what she was doing her answer had been “Baking.”

“Why?”

“It calms me.” She then paused and opened her eyes. “Unless you want to take me up on my other suggestion.” Her eyes drifted down to my crotch. Suffice it to say she continued with her imaginary baking.

Midafternoon, she took to taming her hair. The braid which she’d worn in The Fight Hall had fallen loose in the night, the long white strands matted with small twigs and brush.

Starting from the bottom, she would un-twist the thick pieces of hair, separate any individual strands caught up in the item that didn’t belong—mostly brush and twigs—remove it, and then continue. She did this methodically, inch by inch for over an hour, and she wasn’t at all phased by it.

I’d seen Lera cut a chunk of hair straight out of the back of her head with a knife because she couldn’t have bothered to untangle the knot that was there. But Rieka combed it all by hand, the long velveteen strands falling between her fingers like threads of silk. Upon reaching the top of her head she began styling it once again, selecting portions of her hair as I’d seen my mother and Lily sometimes do and twist them over one another, over and over again. Beneath and atop another portion until she once again wore the long braid from The Fight Hall , the leather ribbon I’d provided her securing it all in place.

“Is a woman doing her hair that fascinating?”

I startled at being caught, which caused a slight smile to touch her face.

“Only so much as to wonder why you don’t just cut it short if it is such a hassle to tend to.”

She adjusted her coat around her as she answered, “Those markings on your chest, I assume they aren’t just for show. Lycoan Sul tattoos are intentional if not symbolic in what they represent. You sat for ten maybe twelve hours to receive them, why bother if you were going to cover them up all the time?”

She hadn’t been incorrect. I’d covered them since receiving them at nineteen, not because I was ashamed of them but because of what they represented.

My father Henric had been brought up Lycoan. He had been the one to teach me that only intimate eyes were permitted to see one’s Sul, but only my Dana was permitted to touch it. It had been entirely unplanned when she’d noticed it in the inn.

I gave her my honest answer. “Because they are a part of me.”

“As is my hair. Anything worth taking time to do is worth treating with res—” She froze. “Someone’s outside.”

I’d been so focused on Rieka, I hadn’t noticed when the new heartbeat entered my senses. She shifted to a crouched position, her hand reaching for her boot.

“Wait here.” Her expression said she didn’t like being told what to do, but she made no move to follow me.

The cave had such an odd entrance, hidden from sight except at one specific angle, the stone cut in such an illusionary way that I’d concluded it had to be Devo-made. But which taint exactly I couldn’t ascertain. I’d pass on the location to Filora when next I had the chance.

The intruder was standing at the mouth of the cave, their back to me when I approached. Kensillan Hunter’s armour covered them from head to toe. Black as pitch, it made them appear as if they were part of the shadow. They stared out at the forest ahead, the afternoon sun setting the land aglow in olive and amber.

I let the phrase leave my lips, entirely prepared to kill this Hunter should I have to. “If the gods knew—”

The Hunter’s swaying stopped A moment later they responded in Seja. “We’d be dead.”

Every muscle in my body relaxed at the sound of that voice. Pulling him into the cave, my friend removed his helm and mask and grinned, bright and toothy. Then immediately pulled me into a hug, as though I hadn’t just seen him three days prior. “It’s good to see you brother,” I said as he crushed me in his embrace.

Jonah had always been the sentimental type, despite his rough and rugged exterior. “How many of us came today?” I asked as he pulled out of the hug.

“Six.” He ran a hand down his thick black beard. “Thought you weren’t coming on this Hunt?”

“Something came up.”

He studied me, forehead furrowed, “And that something being?”

“His wife.” Jonah’s eyes darted behind me to Rieka who had snuck up on both of us in the tunnel. She stood leaning against the cave wall, one arm crossed over her chest as the other played with the black-handled dagger in her hand. I’d have to add Old Prean to the list of languages this woman understood. Speaking in Seja where the majority of words were Old Prean, meant Rieka might be able to pick up more of my language than I’d expected, which meant secrecy was now even more difficult.

“He’s one of the Hunters. I saw him kill another last night.” Her gaze surveyed my six-foot-three friend with cautious regard.

Jonah corrected her with a smile. “I’m not technically a Hunter.”

“Are you also, technically not a Bear-Blessed Tahzi,” she replied just as nonchalantly. Though I doubted she felt that way, her heartbeat was on the cusp of unsteady.

Jonah took a step towards her. Rieka instantly retreated, causing him to quickly contain himself. “My apologies. Not many people in this part of the world recognise that about me. The Tahzi part. How did you?”

“Crossing through the Green Waste, they’re kind of hard to miss.”

Recognition suddenly dawned on Jonah’s face as he surveyed Rieka. “Wife?”

“Story for another time. Did you find one?” I asked, changing the subject.

Jonah perked up a smile and quickly dashed out of the tunnel before returning with a giant sack.

“One would think they would use something more economical than a sack,” Jonah pondered as he deposited Rieka’s supply cache on the cave floor.

“Then it would mean they cared about our wellbeing.” I ruffled through the contents. They’d been known to leave out items for their own amusement. Thankfully nothing was missing.

“What’s in there?” Rieka asked as she came to inspect the item she was fighting for her life to obtain.

I wouldn’t lie to her. Not about this. “A week’s worth of rations.”

“A week? I was nearly killed for a week’s worth of rations?” Her expression hardened as she spoke.

“For you and the other new arrivals. They’ll whittle it down should one of you die.” There was no sugarcoating this. It wasn’t a hypothetical. It was likely one or all of them would die within the season.

“Why just the week?” her eyes lit up when she pulled out a toothbrush.

“It’s part of the mind games the Generals like to play. Put you in the Hunt and survive to feed your fellow passengers. Die and they don’t get the food. But they normally enter newcomers in pairs, did you see any of your bunkmates back at the station?”

She hadn’t which was odd. The pricks who run the Hunts always select the newcomers in the first few draws right after arrival. The earlier a newcomer enters a Hunt the more likely they are to die, and the fewer rations they have to doll out.

“Maybe they made a mistake.” It was such a straightforward response I thought she was joking. She hadn’t been.

“I doubt that.”

Her jaw clenched. “They’re only human.”

Did this woman have to question everything I said? “Humans who take their orders directly from The Core.” Honestly, I could tell her the sky was blue and she’d probably argue it was azure or some weird shade that women all seem to know.

Her response was as expected, if not treasonous on half the continent. “And gods can’t make mistakes?”

I pulled the water skin from the bag and handed it to her. “I’ve never heard of one who had, have you?”

Jonah used the awkward silence to inform me that there were only two Hunters left. Someone—not one of ours—had been hunting them during the night, which had increased the passengers’ chances of re-boarding the train exponentially.

When Jonah left an hour later, I started to pack up our camp.

“We’re leaving already,” Rieka asked. “I thought you said to wait till twilight?”

“There are only two Hunters left. Our chances are better the closer we are to the station. Now that we have the cache as soon as we cross the station threshold, rules say they can’t touch you.”

And once again she had something to add. “You said the Hunters don’t always follow the rules.”

I picked up my sack and flung it over my shoulder, staring out into the woods as the sun began to turn the sky copper. “This rule they do.”