Chapter 11
Krashe
It was nearly nighttime when I took Naomi through the last tunnel and carried her out into the fading sunlight.
My breath faltered as I took in the sloping landscape and the thick canopy of purple forest that stretched out in front of me, it was a thin wedge of trees, bracketed by another ridge of a rising mountain slope.
Where the land dipped down, everything flattened into the wetlands that were home to Copper Tooth, purple Naga that hunted the wetlands they shared with the fearsome Rakworm.
I always loved being above ground and I usually found as many reasons as possible to be away from the Clan and out beneath the skies.
Sun or stars, I loved both. Bitter Storm had always been cave dwelling.
Even some of our hunting and fishing were done in the many rivers that ran beneath the surface of Orshale Peak, for instance.
But I’d grown up traveling above ground with my parents; I missed it when I was in the Hearth Caves.
This exit had brought us out on the other side of Orshala Peak, away from Thunder Rock and the coming war.
It would allow us to travel into the unclaimed cold wilds to the north.
I’d been there when I was small, traveling with my mother and father.
It was unsuitable for what Bitter Storm needed, too cold, too sparsely inhabited by wildlife to help with our food shortage.
Worse, unmentionable machines of destruction wandered the cold lands, remnants of the past. Orshala Peak and Bitter Storm were the bulwarks against these monstrosities, keeping them out of the lands of the other Clans beyond our borders.
To wander into the north without at least a couple of warriors to accompany us at this time of the year was dangerous, but it had to be done.
Going in this direction also meant that the Queen wouldn’t want to spare warriors to follow us, she’d count on the revenants to do the job for her, eventually.
If I intended to stay in the north indefinitely, that would be true.
Even I would eventually fall to their blades and their flying fire, simply because they would keep finding us and wear me down.
That wasn’t the plan though, I was only taking Naomi there to get her to the old ruins and the relics I remembered visiting as a child.
As soon as I located what I remembered should be there, I’d turn us around and point us directly at the Shaman’s home.
Artek was the only male capable of using a relic to help restore Naomi’s ability to walk and he lived on the threshold where three territories convened, Bitter Storm, Copper Tooth, and Thunder Rock.
I didn’t know yet what I’d find when we went to visit the Shaman.
He was a male trained to use relics to heal, to function as a lorekeeper like my mother had, and like the Queen now did.
Bitter Storm allowed him to live on their borders because his ability to heal even the gravest of wounds was just too precious.
But I’d heard murmurs lately in the Hearth Caves that his presence was wrong, and that he should be taken care of like we took care of any other relics we found.
“Oh,” Naomi said softly, drawing my attention to her instead of my ever-busy thoughts.
“It’s beautiful,” she said and lifted a graceful arm to point at the flatlands in the distance where the violet Serant sun was setting.
A dazzling display of many shades of purple and pink painted the horizon, illuminating a huge herd of Vakarsa blanketing a section of the wet marshes.
My stomach churned at seeing them, so much food that could fill so many hungry Bitter Storm bellies.
I’d only picked attacking Thunder Rock over Copper Tooth because I knew fighting in the marshes would give us a severe disadvantage. Thunder Rock’s territory was much more similar to our own, just more verdantly wooded and far richer in wildlife. Probably just as abundant as the Copper Tooth lands.
“It looks like a giant herd of bison, except I think they might be purple? That is amazing!” I liked hearing the wonder in Naomi’s voice at the sight of the massive herd of great, six-legged beasts.
She was right, it was amazing to see them out there on the marshes, their wide, many-toed feet well-adapted to crossing the muddy ground as they grazed on the fast-growing reeds.
“Yes, the wetlands belong to Copper Tooth.” I added for her benefit, “They are a Clan of purple-scaled Naga, with a ferocious Queen. They are the only Clan on Serant that knows how to work copper to craft their spears from. Hence their name.” It had been a late-night debate for many warriors over the remnants of a fire whether their ability to forge copper meant they were crossing a line they should not cross.
A moot point in my opinion when they readily scavenged for relics to use.
“So there are more colors? Are all the Clans split along the colors of their scales? Why?” Naomi asked, still gazing with admiration at the herd in the far distance.
I started moving, we needed to put far more distance between us and Bitter Storm territory before I’d feel safe enough to make camp for the night.
I already knew exactly what spot I wanted to reach and if I wanted to get any rest at all tonight, I’d better hurry.
Her question startled me, as far as I knew, the Clans had always been that way.
Mingling just did not occur, or if it did, it wasn’t seen favorably by anyone.
In Bitter Storm, it had never happened as far as our history had recorded, and our memories were long.
I shrugged, because I didn’t have an answer and Naomi started speculating.
“You must have mingled in the past. On those images stored on the cube, there were several pictures of Naga of different shades together.” I wondered if that meant mingling was a bad thing that had contributed to the downfall of our race, was that why Bitter Storm kept to itself so much?
When I didn’t answer, Naomi fell silent and just watched her surroundings while I traveled.
We angled north, turning our back on the luscious wetlands and soon we were beneath sparse trees and on rocky terrain.
The journey took a lot out of me, but I was well at home in this environment.
Traveling through gullies and climbing steep slopes.
If there was one thing Bitter Storm warriors were good at, it was rocks.
My mate had fallen asleep in my arms by the time I reached the rock bowl with the natural well I’d been headed for.
There were no trees, but the rock was shaped to shelter us from any wind, and the water was cold and fresh.
“Get down, Kiwi,” I said, curling my mouth for the first time around the strange name my mate had given to her pet.
The little Sleara lifted his tiny fanged snout from Naomi’s chest where he’d been sleeping to eye me with a baleful look in his velvet brown eyes.
Then he rose on four legs, bowed his back in the deepest stretch that shuddered up his long, slender tail.
With a flap of his wings, he spiraled to the ground, tendrils of smoke curling up from his nostrils as he huffed.
No bigger than my hand, he was just a little dot of emerald against the slate gray rock beneath my tail.
I didn’t want to put my mate down on the cold stone when she was sleeping so trustingly.
I liked how her lashes were these darker feathers against her cheeks, her nose pink from the brisk temperatures.
Hooking my tail beneath the flap of my backpack, I managed to curl the tip around the fur at the top and yanked it free with a bit of fiddling.
Once it thudded to the ground, I straightened it out with a bit of effort.
More effort than should have been necessary because the Sleara seemed to think my waving tail was an invitation for play.
Finally, I carefully laid my mate down, still keeping Kiwi occupied by flicking my tip around for him to chase.
She didn’t wake and I hurried to shrug out of my pack of supplies so I could cover her with more furs to keep her warm while I made camp.
“Watch her little one,” I warned the Sleara when I was certain she wouldn’t get cold without my body heat.
Kiwi instantly scuttled to her side to park his little body next to her head.
Swiveling his own round face and pointed snout around, nose twitching to do exactly as I’d said.
I froze and kept watching with a bit of surprise.
I knew Sleara were clever creatures, but they were still rodents, and with how hungry the Clan was, they usually went into the stew.
Kiwi was far smarter than I’d ever given his species credit for.
I gathered the needed sticks quickly from the surrounding area and then set up the tent I’d fashioned of old, de-haired leathers.
Making a soft bed inside with the remaining furs, I was quickly ready to settle my mate into the much warmer shelter.
Our body heat would warm the tiny space, allowing us to stay comfortable, even at these higher elevations.
Naomi would need it the further we traveled north.
I didn’t crawl into the tent with my mate and her pet until I’d set up trip wires around the perimeter and a snare further away along a trail of paw prints. I hoped to catch us breakfast while we slept, sparing our rations as much as possible.
My muscles ached when I laid down, I’d carried a lot, and crossed a great distance today.
I’d done it on very little sleep too, considering how many preparations I’d had to make before we could leave, and how early nightmares of Naomi coming to harm had woken me.
I was still worrying about my precious scrolls and clay tablets when I settled myself beneath the furs with Naomi.
Would they remain safe and unharmed from water damage, undiscovered by the Clan, until I could retrieve them?
***
Naomi