Chapter 5
Five
Kalyndi
I woke to a soft rumble outside my hut. Dawn hadn't fully broken, just a pale glow softening the eastern sky. Wrapping my shawl around my shoulders, I stepped out to find Redmon already waiting, a large pack slung over his massive shoulder.
"You're early," I said, still rubbing sleep from my eyes.
"Journey's long. Need daylight." His deep voice still startled me sometimes How it could be so gentle coming from such an intimidating frame?
I stared at the organized packs, the water skins, the carefully wrapped provisions. "You did all this?"
Redmon's single eye, his other hidden beneath the thick fold of skin that marked his kind, seemed almost amused. "Expected me to be useless?"
"I just thought… " What had I thought? That a nine-foot-tall mapinguari warrior wouldn't know how to pack for a journey? "Nothing. I'm impressed."
"Your herbs." He nodded toward a small leather pouch. "Packed those special. Like you showed."
My chest tightened at his thoughtfulness. Three weeks since our rushed mating ceremony, and he still felt like a stranger, a massive, terrifying stranger who now watched me with an intensity that made my skin warm.
"Thank you." I took the pouch, checking its contents quickly. Everything was there, exactly as I'd organized it the night before. "I figured I'd have to remind you about these."
"I pay attention," he said simply.
Something about those three words made my stomach flutter.
The sun climbed higher as we moved deeper into mapinguari territory. The path narrowed, forcing me to walk behind Redmon. I couldn't help studying him, the broad expanse of his back, the strange way his reddish fur caught the sunlight filtering through the canopy.
We passed several mapinguari settlements, clusters of structures woven into the natural landscape so seamlessly they were nearly invisible until we were upon them. Each time, the inhabitants stopped to stare, conversations halting as their gazes locked on me.
"They're not used to seeing humans here, are they?" I whispered when we'd passed the third such settlement.
"No humans come this deep." Redmon didn't turn back to look at me. "Except you now."
A mapinguari female emerged from one dwelling, her single eye narrowing as she assessed me. Unlike Redmon, whose fur was a deep rust color, hers was almost black. She said something in their language, all growls and clicks I couldn't understand.
Redmon responded sharply, his posture stiffening. The female backed away.
"What did she say?" I quickened my pace to walk beside him where the path widened.
"Nothing important."
"It didn't sound like nothing."
"She questioned my choice." His jaw tightened. "Asked if I'd lost my mind, taking a human mate."
My cheeks burned. "And what did you tell her?"
"To mind her business."
We walked in silence for several minutes. This mating arrangement hadn't been our choices. A peace treaty between our peoples, sealed with our union. A sacrifice we'd both made.
At least that's what I told myself whenever I caught him watching me with that unreadable expression.
During a brief rest beside a small stream, I gathered my courage. "Tell me about your customs," I said, watching him drink from cupped hands. "I know almost nothing about mapinguari ways."
Redmon wiped his mouth, water droplets clinging to the fur around his lips. "What do you want to know?"
"Anything. Everything." I shrugged, trying to appear casual. "If I'm to be your mate shouldn't I understand your people?"
He was quiet for so long I thought he might not answer. "Our customs are old. Complex."
"I'm a quick learner."
His eye studied me, seeming to weigh something. "Mating is usually for life. What happened between us with the ceremony is not how things are normally done."
"Yes, I gathered that much from the disapproving looks I keep getting." I pulled a piece of dried fruit from my pack, chewing it slowly. "Do mapinguari usually have multiple mates?"
"No," he answered quickly. "One. Only one."
"Oh." I swallowed hard, suddenly very aware we were discussing our marriage, or whatever their equivalent was.
"That bothers you?" His head tilted slightly.
"No, I just... in my terramares, I was promised to someone else." The words slipped out before I could stop them.
"The treaty changed that."
"Yes. It did." I stood, brushing off my pants. "Should we continue?"
He nodded, but I noticed how his gaze lingered on me longer than necessary.
By midday, we'd reached a densely wooded area where the canopy blocked most of the sunlight. The ground grew spongy underfoot, rich with decay and new life.
"Wait." I halted, my attention caught by a cluster of tiny blue mushrooms growing at the base of a fallen log. "Do you see these?"
Redmon paused, looking back. "Fungi. Poisonous."
"Not poisonous," I corrected, kneeling beside them.
"These are indigo milk caps. Incredibly rare and valuable for treating respiratory infections.
" I carefully harvested several, wrapping them in a cloth from my pouch.
"We haven't had these in my terramares for years.
They're becoming extinct in most regions. "
"You know plants well," he observed.
"I'm a healer. Was training to be one, anyway, before..." I gestured vaguely between us. "This happened."
"You still are a healer."
I looked up at him, surprised by the certainty in his voice. "I suppose so. These need to be dried and powdered. Then they can be mixed with honey for coughs, or brewed into a tea for chest infections."
"They work better with river mint," Redmon said casually.
I froze. "What did you say?"
He shifted uncomfortably under my stare. "The blue mushrooms. Better with river mint. Increases the potency."
"How do you know that?" I stood slowly. "That's advanced herbalism. Even some of our most experienced healers don't know that combination."
Redmon looked away. "I listen. Humans talk at trading posts."
"No." I shook my head. "That's specialized knowledge. Not something you'd overhear at a trading post."
His massive shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. "My mother was a healer. Among our kind."
"Your mother taught you human medicine?"
"She traded knowledge with a human healer. Many seasons ago."
I peered at him, seeing him differently now. "You never mentioned this."
"You never asked." He started walking again. "We should move. Still far to go."
As I followed, I wondered what else I didn't know about my reluctant mate.
The terrain grew rougher as afternoon wore on. Redmon grew increasingly alert, his huge head turning at every sound, nostrils flaring to catch scents I couldn't detect.
"Something's wrong," I finally said, noticing how he kept one massive hand near the bone knife at his waist.
"Fanghorn territory ahead." His voice dropped to a low rumble.
"Fanghorn? Another tribe?"
He nodded grimly. "Not friendly. To mapinguari or humans."
My steps faltered. "Should we turn back?"
"The spikethorn plant you need grows there." He pointed to a ridge beyond a small valley. "In those rocks. Nowhere else."
I bit my lip, weighing the risk against the reward. The Elders had been clear, without the spikethorn extract, the fever spreading through the children in my terramares would likely claim more lives.
"We have to try," I decided. "How dangerous are these Fanghorns?"
"Very." His single eye met mine. "Stay close. Do exactly as I say."
Something in his intensity made my pulse quicken. "I will."
We proceeded more cautiously now, Redmon showing me how to step to minimize noise, guiding me through patches of ground that wouldn't hold our scent. I marveled at his woodcraft, so different from my people's ways, yet equally sophisticated.
"There," he whispered after an hour of tense hiking.
I followed his gaze to a rocky outcropping where delicate purple flowers bloomed from spiny stems. The spikethorn. My heart leaped.
"We made it!" I moved forward, but his arm blocked my path.
"Wait." He scanned the area, nose working. "Something's not right."
"We're so close," I pleaded. "I need those plants."
He hesitated, then nodded. "Quick. I'll watch."
I darted forward, reaching the plants and pulling out my knife to harvest them properly. My hands quickly harvested only what we needed, and I muttered thanks to the plants.
"Got them!" I slipped the precious cuttings into my pouch.
That's when I heard it, a low, menacing growl that wasn't Redmon's.
I looked up to see three mapinguari emerging from the rocks above us. Unlike Redmon's reddish coloring, these had gray-black fur with distinctive white markings around their single eyes. Their teeth, longer and more prominent than Redmon's, gleamed in the afternoon light.
"Kalyndi, run!" Redmon's roar split the air as he lunged toward the first attacker.
I scrambled backward, fumbling in my pouch for the defensive powders I'd prepared. Terror clawed at my throat as the largest of the Fanghorns leaped past Redmon, heading straight for me.
My fingers found the pouch I needed. With shaking hands, I flung the fine yellow powder directly into the creature's face.
The effect was instant as the Fanghorn howled, paws scrubbing at its single eye as the powder burned and temporarily blinded it. I didn't wait to see more, diving between two boulders and sprinting toward the tree line.
Behind me, the sounds of combat were terrifying with roars and impacts that made the ground shake. I chanced a look back to see Redmon fighting with a ferocity I hadn't imagined possible, his massive arms swinging with deadly precision.
One Fanghorn lay motionless, but the other had recovered enough to join the attack. They circled Redmon, coordinating their movements with frightening intelligence.
I couldn't leave him. Wouldn't.
My hand found another pouch. This one contained a mixture that would create a thick, choking smoke when exposed to air. I hurled it toward the fighting mapinguari, then covered my mouth and nose.
The smoke billowed outward, creating instant confusion. I heard coughing, growling, the sounds of disorientation.
"Redmon!" I called. "This way!"
A massive shape emerged from the smoke as him. Blood matted the fur on his shoulder, and he favored his left leg, but he was moving.
"Go!" he snarled, pushing me ahead of him.
We ran, crashing through underbrush, splashing across a shallow stream. Though his breathing was labored, he maintained pace, occasionally glancing back to make sure no one was following us.
After what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, Redmon pulled me toward a narrow opening in a rock face. "In here."
The cave was shallow but well-hidden, its entrance obscured by hanging vines. I collapsed against the wall, heart hammering, while Redmon positioned himself at the entrance, listening.
"I think... we lost them," he panted.
Only then did I notice the dark stain spreading across his side. "You're hurt!"
"It's nothing." He tried to straighten, but winced.
"Don't be ridiculous. Let me see." I moved toward him, healer's instincts taking over.
"I said it's nothing, human."
"My name is Kalyndi, not 'human,' and you're bleeding all over the place." I pressed my hand against his uninjured side to guide him deeper into the cave. "Sit down before you fall down."
To my surprise, he complied, sinking awkwardly to the cave floor. His massive frame seemed somehow smaller now, hunched in pain.
I rummaged through my pack for my medical supplies. "I need to see the wound."
He stared at me for a long moment, then slowly peeled back the fur-lined vest he wore, revealing a deep gash across his ribs. Blood matted his russet fur, making it difficult to assess the damage.
"I need to clean this." I dampened a cloth with water from my skin. "This might hurt."
"Do what you must."
I knelt beside him, gently pressing the cloth to his wound. He hissed, but remained still. Working carefully, I cleaned away enough blood to see that while the cut was deep, it had missed anything vital.
"You were lucky," I murmured, preparing a poultice of herbs. "A little lower and this could have been much worse."
"Not luck," he grunted. "Skill."
Despite everything, I laughed. "Is that what you call getting slashed open? Skill?"
The corner of his mouth twitched. Almost a smile. "Better me than you."
My hands stilled on his side. "You did this protecting me."
"My duty."
"Is that all it was? Duty?" The question slipped out before I could stop it.
His eye met mine, something shifting in its depths. "What else would it be?"
I couldn't answer. Instead, I pressed the poultice against his wound, hyper-aware of the heat of his skin beneath my fingers, the steady rise and fall of his chest. This was the first time I'd touched him, really touched him, since our hasty mating ceremony.
"Thank you," I said finally. "For protecting me."
His large hand unexpectedly covered mine where it rested against his side. The contact sent a jolt through me that had nothing to do with fear.
"Your hands are gentle," he said, his voice lower than I'd ever heard it. "For someone so brave."
My breath caught in my throat. "I wasn't brave. I was terrified."
"You fought. When you could have run." His thumb moved slightly against my wrist. "That's brave."
I became intensely conscious of how close we were in the small cave, of the strange intimacy of tending his wounds. Of being alone together, truly alone, for the first time.
"We should rest," I said, though I made no move to pull my hand away. "At least until we're sure it's safe."
Redmon nodded, but his gaze remained fixed on my face, searching for something I wasn't sure I was ready for him to find.