Chapter 9
nine
. . .
E’kili
Today was my twenty-fifth cycle around the sun, and tonight, I would join my sisters in the Fire Dance to remember the dragon and the moon’s love, and to see the full power of my runes.
Ooki thought it would please me to hike the dragon’s ridge, high above the island, peering over the seas. The taste of salt mingled in the air, and the smell of seaweed and wet stone carried on the wind.
The surface of the dragon’s bones stretched wide. Seven grown bodies could lie across it. We had plenty of space, but I didn’t want space. I wanted her close, so close I could feel the pulse of her heart against mine.
“E’kili, kay’es ey.” Ooki pulled me in, her arms strong. Her lips tasted of sweet berries as they brushed against mine, begging me to kiss her. My fingers slid across her lean body, feeling the firm curve of her waist beneath my touch.
A wicked gleam twinkled in her eyes before she slammed me against the dragon’s surface. I barely had time to react. Her hand grabbed my locs, yanking my head until my neck lay exposed. She licked a tongue over the spot that sat in the crease where my neck and shoulders met.
I shivered, loving her roughness, her possessiveness. I wrapped my legs around her hips.
“‘Utif’,” she said in between hot kisses. Her lips cemented each body part she thought was beautiful.
My fingers expertly found her skirt, pulling up the feathered fabric.
I felt her runes. They weren’t spirals, but circles within circles.
When she danced with the moon last year, they had transformed.
The elders said it was because Ooki prioritized community, and she held the love of the sisterhood within her. She was in training to become an elder.
“Ay lulo’e,” I run my fingers through her silk waves, tucking my hands around the curve of her butt and squeezing.
The sun flickered, catching my eye. I glanced at the sky, gray clouds raced in like a pack of kykyos stomping out golden light. The air went cool. My skin prickled, and the sun disappeared.
“Ooki,” I shifted her off me.
“Ey?” she said, studying my face.
I know these clouds, had seen them once before. My heart beats drums in my ears, I scanned the horizon.
“Ooki.” Panic kept the other words from spilling. Words I didn’t want to say, words I didn’t want to feel.
She followed my gaze, a slight gasp escaping her lips.
Ahead, the sea churned, throwing itself like a tantrum against the shore. The waves punched the air with violent fists, the fish leaped out of the water as though to flee the oncoming storm.
And I knew—after years watching the seas, sharpening my animal bones into daggers, warning the elders we should learn to fight, use our mana to defend, years of trying to convince my village we were not safe, only for wooden whales to return.
Ships.
Fleets of them darkening the shoreline, coming in fast. It would take hours to get back to town to warn the others. We must warn others!
“E’kili?” Ooki’s breaths came at a short, rapid pace.
“Re’un!” I shouted, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the curve of the dragon’s bone. My heart was attacking my ribs, blood rushed to my cheeks. We slid down the bone, the smooth surface slick, our bodies in sync as we descended.
We needed to go faster; the ground seemed hours away.
“E’kili!” Ooki screamed. Her body spiraled out of control; we weren’t meant to go this fast down the bone.
I gritted my teeth, used every muscle in me to grip her legs, yanking her to me, holding her in my arms as we took the rest of the way down.
When our feet hit earth, Ooki emptied her belly onto the ground.
“Ooki,” I took a leaf, dabbed vomit from her lips. “Wa’yn Wysdom,” I said, urging her to go to the temple to warn the elders.
“Ooki!”
Her eyes whirled in her head, “Plee’sa. Wa’yn Wysdom, ne,” I said through clenched teeth. She nodded, finally stable. When she took off toward the south, I headed north to the sea. The shortest distance was the cliff’s edge.
The forest tore at my skin as I rushed through.
Branches snapped underfoot, the scent of pine and earth disappearing as the smell of bed sick came from the sea.
I pushed harder; there was a gap ahead. A rope hung on a strong branch of the tree.
Placed there for us to cross from one side to the other.
I rapidly approached, snatching the rope into my palms, holding firm, letting my momentum thrust me to the other side.
BANG! Loud sounds echoed from the shore at the same rapid pace as my heart thundering.
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
The sound deafening, snapping the world into focus.
It sounded like thunder, but flashed like lightning.
I stumbled forward, the ground vibrating.
I couldn’t stop, no matter how much my calves cramped from pushing myself.
My legs carried me to the edge of the cliff, I peered down at the entrance of the island.
Below, men spilled out of ships like baby spiders from their mutah’s belly. In formation, they carried iron that spat out mana so great that when it hit my sisters, blood blossomed from their chests, their necks, their legs, until their screams went silent in the sand.
I shook, my soul trying to escape from my body. I held myself, screaming out to my sisters below. Iron aimed at me, before fire spat from its maw, my eyes caught the twisted smile of Yellowhair.
Bang!
The impact hit me hard, throwing me onto my back.
Fire ripped through my skin, burning me up, crimson spilling from my arm.
I hear the warning bells of the temple, calling the village to evacuate and gather within its walls.
I knew more sisters would come to the shore; I had to stop them before we lost anyone else.
I dragged myself from the ground, ripping a piece of fabric from my skirt and wrapping it around my arms, then I ran.
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
My ears rang. Shouts and screams amplified by the mo’kures taking flight.
I was disoriented, I couldn’t tell if the men were close or if my sisters were falling around me.
A mo’kure flew across my face, mimicking the screams of a voice I knew to be the village’s cook.
I’ve heard that voice sing at gatherings, her high notes carried up to the stars.
Now it was warped, twisted, shrill, and it replayed again and again, as the mo’kure flapped wildly above me.
I saw a group of sisters rushing to the shore.
I waved my hands frantically, urging them to go back.
“Re’urn, Re’urn!” I shouted. “Go to the temple, it’s safer there than anywhere.
” We were no match for their mana. Their touch was death, their presence, poison.
I’ve never known any of my sisters to murder a person as they would an animal for protein.
And even then, it was only as needed, never carelessly, thoughtlessly.
Never like this, where the air reeked of metal.
When they turned to go to the temple, thunder clapped past my ear, hitting the back of the last sister before she could disappear into the trees. I gripped the bone dagger at my hip. I whirled around, ready to fight.
Yellow-Hair held out iron, smoke rose from the mouth. His eyes were midnight black and large, covering every area of white.
“I remember you,” he called out, his voice drowning the screams surrounding us. “Don’t you remember me?”
Time squeezed me in its clutches, sucking the air out of my lungs. “I should have killed you!” I said in his language that felt like dirt on my tongue.
He tisked. “My little werewolf has grown. You know, I counted down each day before I could see you again. To be here for your moon dance,” he said, pointing the iron at my face.
It clicked. “You were always my favorite, you know. Always watching me, following like my little pup. Aren’t you happy to see me? ”
I wrapped my mind around his words, digesting them. All this time, my sisters lived in bliss. I warned them! I warned them he would be back. I warned them. I grit my teeth, raise my dagger above my head, the same one carved from the kykyo’s bone he killed. My runes glowed gold.
“That expression doesn’t look like joy. Come on now.” He pointed the iron at my fallen sister behind me, “...you can’t defeat me with that. Kuhm, walk with me.” He beckoned me over. The grass where he stood turned brown.
“I go nowhere with you!”
He lowered the iron to his side, he turned his head, his ears were pointed. More screams came in the distance, followed by bangs. The hunger I witnessed when I was eight, claws, a bloody mouth ripping the innards of a man, hair bristling at his neck, flooded my mind, and I felt my bladder contract.
“You hear that?” he said. “Those are my men capturing your people. They’re following a map I made to your village as we speak. See, I know every inch of this place, your sisters, you…”
Mutah.
Was who I thought about. I hoped she made it to the temple; once there, the elders would seal them in, they would know what to do next. “Please, be safe.”
“I want to make a deal,” he said, stepping toward me, his head cocked to the side.
“You speak to the elders! Not me!” I step back, holding my dagger firm.
“No!” he shouted. Spit flew from his mouth, his hair flipped out of place, his cheeks reddened. “I want to speak with you. It’s you whom I came for. I waited all this time, prepared for this. You will have me.” His voice shook the trees.
Piss drizzled down my legs.