Chapter 3
– Kenz’ox –
I walk through the jungle, my head spinning. That was a woman. A real one. And that was a Plood ship, one that they use to travel in the stars, smooth and white, with a shimmering blue light on the inside.
The Envoy was right. Women. Plood.
Xren has changed. Everything is coming to an end. Even the jungle itself is new, with strange, blue-white, bulb-like plants shooting up everywhere. Perhaps even the Envoy’s talk about the Darkness being on Xren has a core of truth to it.
Sweet Ancestors, she was wonderful. Her scent lingers in my nose, warm and sharp and different. The shape, the voice—wrong in every way, and still the most right thing I’ve ever seen.
“How did she know about the girl?” I mutter as I walk.
Possibly all females know about each other.
They can likely sense each other’s presence from far away.
Certainly, this woman did attract me from a distance.
Why else did I walk straight toward her and her Plood ship?
That was no coincidence. Something in me must have known she was there.
“She talked about a tribe,” I say to myself. But I saw no sign of any warriors but one, and his tracks were unusual. This part of the jungle seems to be full of strange things and aliens from other worlds. “Even if she has a tribe, perhaps they will agree to—”
I stop in my tracks, and my hand goes to my sword. There was movement in the jungle ahead.
I curse my carelessness. Only fools speak in the jungle. The trees are always listening, hiding dangers.
I slowly pull my blade out of its sheath and take up a defensive position, staring into the darkness.
I hear a tiny noise from above right before a great weight lands on me and drops me to the ground.
I lose my grip on my sword as sharp claws dig into my shoulders.
A thin snarl right into my ear confirms it—it’s a drok, a rare Big that lives in the trees.
It means I have to get it off me before it can get a firm grip with all eight claws, one on each paw.
If it does, I will never get it off, and it will rather die than let go.
I grab for its body. It’s slick, wet, all muscle and curved spikes. The hooks bite into my hands, slicing skin to ribbons.
“Vreeeg!” I yell as I slam my back into a tree trunk, fighting desperately to get the attacker off. The pain from the drok’s finger-long claws is so intense the word starts to pull back from me, and there’s a whine in my ears. If this goes on much longer, I’ll lose and die.
The drok hangs on, its snarls getting higher in what it thinks is victory. But I can’t allow that. I have responsibilities.
Ignoring the pain, I grab one of the drok’s unattached paws with both hands and pull at it with all my might. It’s still stuck on me, but now some of its claws have dug deeper into my flesh.
Blood slicks my hands as I go down again and desperately search for my sword on the ground.
There’s a sudden, high-pitched yelp, and the drok goes still. Not caring about its claws ripping bigger holes in me, I grab the lifeless enemy and throw it to the ground. It has a wound right at the throat.
The weight is gone. The jungle tilts again. And behind me there’s stillness. A shape. Movement.
I whirl around, ready for another fight.
It’s the woman, eyes wide and spear held ready. The spearpoint drips black and red in the dim light.
For a moment, we stand like that while we await the other’s reaction. Her dark eyes have fear in them. And death.
I let out my breath. She’s not attacking me.
“Good aim with the spear,” I growl, wiping blood off my arm with the other hand. “Killed him on the spot.”
“Where is girl?” she asks in her strangely accented voice. “You here her!”
I pick up my sword. “Not many have taken down a drok. And certainly not with a spear.” I squat to examine my attacker. “Those claws can be useful.” I start the bloody business of cutting them off the dead drok.
The woman stands there, still tense. “Where girl?”
I ignore her while I finish declawing the drok. Then I straighten. “Surely you can sense where she is?”
There’s no answer. She doesn’t understand. But the way she watches me feels like she does. Her speech sounds strange and halting, as if she doesn’t know the words properly.
I certainly sense her. She’s small, with a round face and long, dark hair kept in place at the top of her head.
I can hear her fast heartbeat over the constant din of the jungle, and I can see it at her throat.
Her voice is thin and yet full, young yet mature in a way that I can’t quite figure out, but which strikes something deep in me. Something warm.
I show her the eight long and pointy claws, dripping with cold, watery blood. “These are yours.”
She doesn’t make any move to take them, so I shrug and put them in the pouch at my belt. “You appear to have saved my life. But my life already belongs to someone else, and I can’t change my loyalty. I’m sure you understand.”
I replace the sword in its sheath and look around.
I’m not far from the spot I picked so carefully, thinking that it was safe.
If the drok has already been there, there may not be anything left to protect.
But I doubt it. Droks only hunt alone, and this one would not have attacked me if it had already had its fill of sweet, soft meat.
I fix the woman with a hard gaze. “You followed me this far. I won’t stop you from following me further. But the girl is mine.” I turn my back to her and walk on.
I sense her hesitating before she follows me, her feet rubbing loudly against the undergrowth with each little step. I could get rid of her, of course. I could run, or just walk faster than she could follow. But somehow, I enjoy her presence, and I’ll have to deal with her sooner or later anyway.
I lead her straight to the secret spot I picked for tonight.
The bundle I hid so carefully is still there, hanging from a branch close to the trunk of a small tree. The camouflage makes it look like the net of a smerek, causing every Big and Small to want to stay well away from it.
There’s no sound, which alarms me a bit until I climb up and check.
“Having a good night’s sleep,” I say softly. “Some people have all the luck.”
I climb down and hold the leather bundle up in front of the woman. “Here she is. Keep in mind that she is mine.”