Chapter 4
Four
Redmon
The humans saw us coming long before we reached the walls of their terramares.
I could smell their fear and suspicion on the wind as sharp and acrid, like sour fruit.
Kalyndi walked beside me, her chin raised higher with each step closer to her former home.
The path narrowed as we approached the wooden gates, forcing us closer together.
Her arm brushed against mine, sending a jolt of heat through my body.
"They're staring," I muttered, my voice rumbling low in me.
Kalyndi's eyes flicked to the guards posted on the watchtowers. "Of course they are. They've never seen a mapinguari escorting one of their own without chains or blood."
The hostility in their eyes burned into me. One guard spat on the ground as we passed.
"These are your people?" I couldn't keep the edge from my voice.
"They were." Her answer was clipped, final.
As we drew closer to the gates, the crowd of humans thickened. They parted for Kalyndi like water around a stone, but their eyes never left me. I towered over them all, my broad shoulders and thick hide making me twice as wide as their largest man.
Kalyndi’s spine straightened, her stride lengthened. The hesitant woman I knew these past weeks transformed before my eyes into someone who commanded respect.
"Kalyndi!" A woman rushed forward, embracing her. "We heard you were… " Her eyes darted to me, words dying on her lips.
"I'm fine, Mereta." Kalyndi's voice carried authority I hadn't heard before. "Where are the sick children?"
More humans gathered, keeping a wary distance from me but greeting Kalyndi with reverence. Their voices buzzed with respect.
"The fever spread to six more last night."
"We've been waiting for your return."
"Only you know the proper remedy."
My chest swelled with unexpected pride. Among my kind, Kalyndi was merely a human female, strange and fragile. Here, she was vital, essential.
Our moment of peace shattered when we approached the inner gates of the healing quarters. Two guards crossed their spears, blocking our path.
"The monster stays outside," the larger one growled, not even looking at me but addressing Kalyndi.
My claws extended reflexively. "I am Redmon of the Eastern Territories. I have a name."
The guard's knuckles whitened around his spear. "Don't care if you're the king of the forest. No monsters inside the healing grounds."
I took a step forward, my muscles tensing. The crowd behind us quieted, watching. I could tear through their pathetic defenses in seconds, but that wasn't why we'd come.
"He comes with me." Kalyndi's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
The guard blinked. "Kali, you can't be serious. That thing… "
"That 'thing' is my protector." She placed a hand on my arm, her touch burning through my hide. "I need him with me."
My heart hammered against my ribs. Protector? We both knew that wasn't the agreement. She was my claimed mate, brought back to her people only to heal their sick before returning to my territory. Nothing more.
"The Council won't like this," the guard muttered, but lowered his spear.
"The Council doesn't treat fever-sick children," she snapped back. "I do."
The guards reluctantly parted, and I ducked to follow Kalyndi through the archway. The settlement's inner sanctum closed around us like a trap. Stone walls, narrow passages. Too many humans, too close.
"You didn't need to claim me as your protector," I murmured as we walked, my senses hyperalert to every sound, every movement.
Kalyndi glanced up at me, her dark eyes unreadable. "Would you prefer I told them the truth? That I'm your..." She couldn't finish the sentence.
"Mate," I supplied. The word hung between us, heavy with all it implied.
The healing quarters smelled of herbs and sickness.
Sweat prickled along my spine as memories flooded back, my only other time inside human walls.
I'd been younger then, curious about the strange soft creatures.
That curiosity had cost three of my hunting party their lives and left me with the scar that ran from shoulder to hip.
"You're tense," Kalyndi observed, her healer's eyes missing nothing.
"Last time I was inside a human settlement, I left with more holes than I arrived with."
Her face softened. "No one will harm you here. Not while you're with me."
I wanted to believe her. But trust wasn't in my nature, especially not trust in humans.
Small beds, each holding a child, crowded the healing room. Sweat-slicked faces, flushed with fever. The smell of sickness hung thick in the air, making my sensitive nose burn.
Kalyndi transformed again before my eyes.
She moved from bed to bed, her hands gentle but sure.
She spoke softly to each child, mixed remedies with practiced precision, gave instructions to the attending women.
I stood against the wall, trying to make myself smaller, less threatening, as I watched her work.
A small boy, only six summers, stared at me with wide, fearless eyes while Kalyndi checked his fever.
"Are you really a mapinguari?" he asked, his voice raspy.
Before I could answer, Kalyndi smiled. "He is. The strongest and smartest one in the forest."
Pride bloomed in me at her words. I stepped closer, conscious of the mothers tensing around me.
"Does it hurt?" the boy pointed to the thick hide covering my body.
"No more than your skin hurts you," I answered, surprised by the gentleness in my voice.
"Redmon knows all the secrets of the forest," Kalyndi told the boy as she pressed a cool cloth to his forehead. "Which is very useful for a healer like me."
Her skill was undeniable. The children responded to her touch, their trust absolute. Even as their mothers watched me with suspicion, they handed their most precious treasures to Kalyndi without hesitation.
"The fever's too deep," she murmured to me hours later, her face drawn with concern. "The usual remedies aren't working."
I leaned closer, inhaling the scent of the sick children. "It smells different from regular fever."
"You can smell the difference?" Her eyebrows rose.
"My kind can detect illness before it shows on the skin." I hesitated. "This has the aroma of the blackwater marshes."
While Kalyndi continued her work, I retreated to the shadows in an open window, trying to escape the press of humans and their stares. Two men stood just outside, their voices carrying clear to my sensitive ears.
"...can't believe the Council allowed it," one said. "A mapinguari inside our walls."
"It's because of her. They say she's special."
"Special how?"
"My cousin works with the District Scientists. Says they've been monitoring her bloodline for generations. Something about compatibility."
"Compatibility? With monsters?"
"Keep your voice down! All I know is they're very interested in her... arrangement with this one."
My jaw clenched. Scientists. Bloodlines. Monitoring. The words stirred something dark and protective inside me.
"Redmon." Kalyndi's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "I need your help."
I moved to her side, aware of the conversations halting as I passed. She led me to a small storeroom filled with dried plants and powders.
"What did you mean about the blackwater marshes?" she asked, her voice low.
"The children's sickness carries the same scent as the flowers that grow there. Yellow blooms, blue centers."
Her eyes opened. "Marsh gentian. If that's the source, no wonder my usual remedies aren't working." She began pulling containers from shelves, muttering to herself.
The door banged open. An older man with a silver chain around his neck entered, his face twisted with suspicion. One of the Council elders, judging by the ornate staff he carried.
"What is this creature doing in our sacred healing chambers?" he demanded, not looking at me but at Kalyndi.
"Elder Farron," she acknowledged with a stiff nod. "Redmon is helping me identify the source of the fever."
"Helping?" He scoffed. "Or gathering intelligence on our defenses?" Now he turned to face me, hatred clear in his rheumy eyes. "We know your kind. You've raided our outposts for generations."
I crossed my arms, my claws visible against my dark hide. "If I wanted to raid your settlement, old man, I wouldn't need to spy first."
"Redmon," Kalyndi warned, placing a hand on my arm.
The elder's gaze flicked to where she touched me, disgust clear in the curl of his lip. "So the rumors are true. You've been corrupted by this beast."
"The only thing corrupting anyone here is ignorance," she snapped back. "While you stand there making accusations, children are suffering."
"And what miracle cure has your pet monster suggested?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.
Kalyndi lifted her chin. "Marsh gentian. The fever carries markers of the blackwater sickness."
The elder paled, his hostility momentarily forgotten. "That's impossible. The marshes are two days' journey beyond our territory."
"Nevertheless, that's what we're dealing with." She turned back to her shelves. "I need to prepare an expedition. The fresh root is the only effective treatment."
"No one's gone to the marshes in years," the elder protested. "The territory between here and there belongs to the Shadowclaw tribe."
At the mention of my rivals, I felt a growl rise in my throat. The Shadowclaws were vicious even by mapinguari standards, known for toying with their prey.
"I don't have a choice," Kalyndi insisted. "Without the gentian, these children will die."
The elder left in a huff of robes and muttered curses, but the problem remained. Kalyndi glared at her useless remedies, shoulders slumped with what needed to be done.
"I know where the gentian grows," I said quietly. "The fastest routes through the marshes."
She turned to me, hope and wariness battling in her expression. "You would lead an expedition?"
"I would lead you," I clarified. "Just us. Humans in groups attract attention. Two travelers might slip through."
"Through Shadowclaw territory?" She frowned. "Why would you risk that for children who aren't your kind?"
The question caught me off guard. Why indeed? "They're innocent. And..." I met her gaze. "They matter to you."
Night fell, and the settlement grew quiet except for the occasional moan from the sick children.
Kalyndi and I sat in the small garden behind the healing quarters, a map spread between us on a stone bench.
The moonlight silvered her dark skin, catching on the curve of her cheek, the fullness of her lips. I forced my attention back to the map.
"Here," I pointed to a narrow passage between two hills. "The Shadowclaws rarely patrol this route. It adds half a day to the journey but decreases our chances of encounter."
She leaned closer, her scent filling my senses. "And once we reach the marshes?"
"The gentian grows on the eastern banks, where the water is shallowest." My claw traced the path. "We could be there and back within four days if we travel fast."
"Four days," she repeated, calculating. "The children can hold on that long with supportive care."
Our heads bent together over the map, planning, strategizing. For the first time since her arrival in my territory, we collaborated instead of competing. The realization was both strange and exhilarating.
"We should leave at first light," she decided. "I'll prepare traveling medicine pouches tonight."
I nodded, watching her efficient movements as she made notes on the map's edge. "You'll need to sleep."
"So will you." She glanced up, meeting my eyes directly. "Thank you for this, Redmon."
"For what?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"For helping my people. For not...being what they think you are."
I didn't know how to respond to that. What was I, if not the monster they feared? And yet, with Kalyndi looking at me like I was something more, I wanted to be worthy of that look.
"We should rest," I finally said, rolling up the map. "Tomorrow will test us both."
As we prepared to return to our separate sleeping quarters, Kalyndi paused. "The Shadowclaws are they really as dangerous as the stories say?"
I thought of the rival tribe's cruelty, their love of slow deaths. "Yes," I answered honestly. "But they've never encountered me protecting something that matters."
It was the closest I'd come to admitting that she had become important to me not just as a claimed mate, but as herself.