A Raven's Plight, page 28
“As if this is any better!?” He screamed back. At that moment, Ayla realized that Damion was afraid. Not just a little afraid, but terrified. His earlier bravado and cruelty were covering up the putrid stink of hysterical fear, and when his eyes weren’t turned down in anger, they were wide with panic. My mother thought the forest would be safe… that they wouldn’t follow me here. I can use this to my advantage…
“Why would I have wasted time tending to your wounds just for you to die?” She stood up on shaky legs, cautiously brushing her hands off. “I grew up in these woods. I know the creatures of this forest, and the dangers they pose.”
“You left me behind,” there was something to his tone, something almost petulant. Like a child, whose parents had lost them in the grocery store.
She nodded, unable to deny that. “What do you think I should have done? I couldn’t carry you, and I wasn’t going to stay behind so you could kill me when you woke up.”
Damion threw his arms up in the air. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation, I should just…” he reached for her again, but she jumped back and held up a finger of warning.
“I am the only way you’ll make it out of these woods alive, regardless of what I did or didn’t do back at the ship. If you want to live, you need me.”
“There are plenty of ways to exact revenge that don’t end in death.”
Ayla jumped back again, fighting to control her own fear. “Push me, and I swear to you that I will not hesitate to burn you to cinders. I’m teetering on the edge here, and I dare you to risk it.” The electrodes thrummed painfully, no longer sufficient in number to completely numb her headache. If losing two was enough to affect her, how would she react to losing more? What if all of them were to fall off? The distant rumble of thunder sounded again, closer this time. “What’s it going to be?” She asked, cocking her head slightly.
Damion scowled and lowered his hands, glancing nervously around the trees, his eyes landing at last on Ayla. “You know how to get me out of this place alive?”
“Alive and thriving,” she assured him. “In exchange for my freedom.”
“HA! Your freedom?! What could you possibly hope to achieve by that? If you refuse to join Giska, she will destroy everything you love.”
“I won’t allow that to happen. Now, do we have a deal?” She proffered her hand once more, her expression serious.
He took a moment to think, and then grasped her hand, giving a hard shake. “This agreement ends the moment I step foot outside of these accursed trees.”
“Fine by me,” she replied. I don’t intend to be with you at that point. “Now we should find a place to sleep. A storm is coming, and we don’t want to be on the ground after nightfall. There are worse things out here than you.” She looked around for a moment, seeing what she was looking for part way up the hill. “Let’s get that medkit, and get a move on.”
Thunder rumbled close to the south, the sunlight overtaken by clouds and oncoming twilight. For at least an hour, Damion seethed as they hiked, the incline steep at points, up and down, only occasionally level. It was ‘normal’ terrain for the foothills, or at least that’s what the girl had said. It didn’t matter. No amount of hiking could subdue the energy stores that Damion was drawing from. A roiling subcutaneous hatred crawled up and down his body as he glared daggers into the back of her head, waiting, calculating, and planning how and when he might take revenge.
His entire life had been spent building a reputation, one that would earn him a position as the youngest member of the royal council in history. He had worked relentlessly coming to Giska’s every need and call, obeying without question, no matter the command. Where others might have balked, he simply did. Even as an adolescent, she entrusted him with tasks many would only consider giving an adult, and finally, just a few weeks into his fiftieth year, his first official year as an adult, she entrusted him with the most important task of all: Retrieving Aria. He had stayed up the entire night before the mission going over plans, back up plans, and potential counter attacks. He was ready for anything. Or so he had thought.
Ahead of him, the small girl hopped down off a short ledge, her head swiveling as she scanned the trees. One of them towered noticeably above all the others, its deciduous leaves a sharp contrast to the coniferous needles of its neighbors, much like Damion in light of his competition.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he thought bitterly. Indeed, once he returned to Giska with Aria in tow, he was to be rewarded handsomely. The Queen offered any number of enviable treasures for a job well done. He’d fantasized himself as second in command, answering to no one. Well, no one but Giska. Those dreams had been shattered.
“This is incredible,” the girl said, interrupting his thoughts. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
He scowled as he glanced around, certain a deadly assault could be hiding behind each trunk. His search ended on one central tree. He’d been so consumed by his thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed what the giant tree actually was. His eyes widened, his heart tightening in his chest. “This can’t be,” he whispered, fighting his own rising panic. “It’s a Monolithian tree… native to Zvalvadoria, hey, don’t touch that!” He ordered, but it was too late. The girl was using the immense folds of bark as hand holds, her boots already off her feet as she hoisted herself up.
As far as Monolithian trees went, this one was actually rather small. From what he’d seen on missions across the nomad lands of Zvalvadoria, they could grow to be ten, even twenty times this size. But still, the imposing girth of its base was bigger around than two of his ships combined. It was the reminder of what usually lived in such trees that made his sweat run cold.
But there were no signs of the Illudinari on this planet, and why would they be? Zvalvadoria was a part of a completely different galaxy. However it arrived here, Damion could only guess.
The girl climbed with disturbing ease, never second guessing a handhold, nor wasting any energy. It was like she’d been doing this her entire life. “What do you think you are doing?!” He hissed after her.
She paused as she glanced down at him.“This tree has a nook in it. Can’t you see it? It’s huge! With those giant leaves and branches, we’ll have protection from the storm, and we’ll be safe off the ground. Come on… Unless you want to sleep down there tonight…” Her attitude grated on him. She knew she had the upper hand, and it made her bold. As if her betrayal, or their confrontation never took place, she tried to engage him in conversation… As equals no less.
Damion ground his teeth as he looked up at her. Umanei did not climb trees. Umanei did not belong in the forest. But he would be damned if that scrawny little excuse for the ‘psarmatic heir’ would be allowed to goad him in such a way. When they were through with all of this, he would make her suffer. Giska only wanted her alive, which left plenty of room to the imagination.
He stepped to the base of the trunk with a swallow of apprehension as he looked up. The girl was already pulling herself into the nook and vanishing from sight. He picked up her boots, tossing them up, followed by the medkit, both landing with a thump in the space above. The girl elicited a satisfying yip of surprise. He placed a tentative hand on the thick bark, his fingers curling around it experimentally. It was warm beneath his touch, almost as if blood pulsed beneath the rough exterior. She thinks she’s in control of this situation. She thinks she’s won the upper hand, that I’m a coward and won’t climb. I’ll just have to prove her otherwise. He pulled himself up, feeling his feet lift off of the soft forest floor, finding his footing on the thick folds. Everything about it felt wrong. Umanei didn’t belong in trees.
Carefully he made his way up, refusing to look down as he went. I won’t be outshone by a child, no less that abomination. Up and up he went, until finally he pulled himself over the ledge into a relatively generous nook. Decomposing leaves and moss provided a soft cushion, while five massive branches shot out from the main trunk, enclosing the space exceptionally well. They were high enough up that they were off the ground, but not so high that they sat above the other trees. The girl was already leaning against one of the branches, nursing a new bump on her head from either the shoes or medkit. Her face was still a mess of bloody cuts. Natural consequences for stupidity.
“So you have entire forests of these on your home planet?” She asked, much to his irritation.
“These trees belong to the Illudinari. To enter the forest on Zvalvadoria is to die. You are ignorant to think these are places of beauty.”
“Huh,” she puffed. “I’ll wager one of us is ignorant.”
So she wants to argue again? He looked down at his hands, flexing and popping his fingers as he spoke. “My species,” he said pointedly, “Has been traveling the universe now for thousands of years. Hundreds, if not thousands of planets are marked on our maps, and dozens of sentient species fill our encyclopedias. Sometimes ‘opinions’ are merely the result of facts, such as the fact that out of 312 forested planets, the 26 forests that have been ‘explored’ resulted in a 100% fatality rate, including that of my home planet. I will not be placated into complacency because a little girl thinks some leaves are pretty.”
“Sorry I asked,” she murmured sarcastically.
It took him a few seconds to understand the low reply through her accent, but he quickly nodded. “Yes, it would be better if you were to keep silent,” he replied, finally risking a glance to the ground below. It really wasn’t that high up. He turned back to the girl, who had pulled her knees up to her chest, and was examining something small hanging from a chain on her neck. It glinted in the dying light, a jeweled ring of some sort. Noticing his attention, she quickly tucked it back under her tunic, his eyes falling to bare flesh still exposed just below her ribcage. Little gray electrodes covered her smooth caramel skin, and he couldn’t help but wonder at her future potential.
“Do you mind?” She asked with a raised eyebrow, shifting to cover her abdomen.
He looked up, those stunning green eyes boring into his. He hated when their gazes connected, hated the way it made him feel. From that first moment in the hall on Anash’s ship, and every moment since, he couldn’t fight the sensation that their futures were linked. More than anything, he wanted to be rid of her, but not until retribution was paid. A thought occurred to him, and he asked, “How old are you really? If you were to die without those electrodes, then your psarma sickness is far more advanced than you let on earlier.”
She considered his question for a moment, and he wondered if she was deciding what lie to tell next. “I thought it was better for me to keep silent,” she said, invoking another flare of anger.
“I asked you a question,” he growled. “Children are permitted to speak when spoken to.”
“In that case, I’ll gladly clear something up for you mr. ‘adult’. My ‘halfblood’ DNA has catapulted me into adulthood. I am no more a child than you, and certainly your equal when it comes to cognitive function, and temper control, if I say so myself.”
Damion’s fists were clenched at his sides as he hungered to put her in her place. She is goading you on. You’re better than this, better than her. He took a deep breath and settled down opposite of her, forcing himself to relax. He would be in control. If she was truly as close to crossing over into adulthood as she said she was (and he suspected that was the truth), then forcefully bringing her to Giska might soon not be an option. She needed to join him of her own volition, which meant adopting a new strategy. I need her to trust me… After their earlier interactions, that seemed an impossible feat, one that required swallowing his pride. The thought of it nearly made him choke.
He pinched his lips together, an almost palpable sour taste in his mouth as he tried to think of the words to say, the voice fluctuations to use, and the actions he needed to take in order to be truly credible. How do you convince someone you’re actually sorry for assaulting them? Especially when part of you is not. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if his plan would be too much for him, when the girl interrupted his thoughts again.
“Look,” she began, glancing hesitantly off to the side, as if meeting his eyes bothered her too. “I… I’m sorry about your ship… and I’m sorry about maybe ruining your life. I don’t blame you if you refuse my apology, given what’s crossed between us. But I wanted to at least try. This fight was supposed to be between me and Giska, not me and you.”
Damion didn’t realize he was staring at her until several moments of silence passed and she glanced back at him. Had she just done to him what he had hoped to do to her? Was this a ploy to earn his trust? What was her new game? What manipulation was she working on now? “I…” but he was speechless. Do I say I accept her apology? Do I call her out? No, just focus on your own goals for now. She could play at her own games, and he would play at his. May the best liar win. He hung his head down for a moment, allowing a flash of shame to cross his face. “I’m afraid I’ve let my temper take the reins since the crash. I shouldn’t have… shouldn’t have said the things I said, and I shouldn’t have…” he took a deep breath, forcing as much regret into his words as possible. “I shouldn’t have hurt you… or tried to…” his voice trailed off, and he looked away, a moment of genuine regret pulling at his conscience. He had broken a promise to himself that day, and he thanked the Creator that he’d stopped. Violence was one thing, something he had experienced much of in his life, but to try and force himself on another… I won’t be like him. I will never be like him.
When he looked back at the girl, she watched him with cautious skepticism, one eye squinted slightly under a growing bump across her brow. Damion worked his mouth for a moment, his anger calmed enough for him to realize that she had wounds that should probably be tended to. “Let me clean those for you,” he said awkwardly, pointing to her forehead. She raised the heavy brow up, an odd little smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.
“It’s swelling up horrendously, isn’t it?” She asked knowingly.
“Yeah… Was it your boots, or-”
“The medkit,” she interrupted, picking it up from her side and handing it over to him. “The swelling should go down overnight, but it’s gonna be pretty black and blue for the next couple days or so. You have a pretty impressive arm on you. Bet you would have made a killer ball player. Good to see that psarma burn isn’t bothering you too much”
In all honesty, he was so distracted by anger and hate, he’d forgotten about the burn. It ached at her reminder, along with many other hurts across his body. He laughed hesitantly, not sure what she meant by ‘killer ball player’, but didn’t ask as he opened the medkit and rifled through the supplies. He set aside several sterile wipes, a bit of gauze in case she started to bleed again, and a few bandages. “Young Umanei are trained in hand-to-hand combat before they ever learn how to wield a psaram ray. Throwing objects, amongst other things, was part of that training,” he said, carefully dabbing at her face with the wet wipe, heavy scabs coming away on the cloth. Beneath all the dried blood were two deep cuts, one across the right side of her forehead, another on her right cheek. It appeared they hadn’t stopped bleeding, just forming thick jelly-like clots that continued to ooze. She winced as he applied a special cleaning ointment to them, finally pulling each closed using a suture bandage to keep them shut. The rest of her face had half a dozen superficial scrapes, but he made sure each one was clean. By the time he finished, twilight was starting to fade to night in earnest, the air growing colder, deep thunder rumbling overhead.
“That should do it,” he said, leaning back and doing one last look-over. “Two of those cuts are going to take some time without micro-bots.”
“Thank you,” she said, the gratitude in her voice convincing. Either she was a very good little actress, or she was being honest. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Instead, his stomach gave a loud growl, reminding him that it had been quite a while since his last meal.
“There are a few food packets in the medkit,” she offered. He looked through the box again, surprised that he had missed them the first time. He pulled one out, and offered another to the girl. She shook her head, and told him he could have her portion.
Damion sucked down the first packet hungrily and put the second to his lips before pausing. Why doesn’t she want it… Did she tamper with them while I was unconscious? His stomach rumbled again, demanding more. They had been hiking for at least two hours, three if they counted the hour before they met in the forest. She should be starving. “You need to have this,” he said sternly, holding it to her.
She declined and said, “I am not hungry. Really, I couldn’t eat. Go ahead.”
He screwed the cap back on the packet and returned it to the medkit. “Later then.” The soft patter of raindrops began to sound from the canopy above, quickly growing as it encompassed the surrounding forest. A cool breeze began to pick up as well, though there was some degree of protection from it within the tree. Still, the girl curled her knees up close to herself, a slight tremor obvious through the growing darkness. She’s cold. He could feel that the air was cool, but an Umanei’s temperature tolerance must have been higher than that of a human.
“I think I will call it a night,” she said, her teeth chattering slightly. She turned and patted around at the moss for a moment, pulling at it before huffing in frustration. A moment later, she lay down, curled tightly, and turned away.
A drop of water landed on Damion’s nose, and he startled at the cool wetness. Again thunder rumbled close by, the pittering of the rain sounding more like waves crashing against the shore. Soon it wouldn’t matter how protected from the storm they were, they would be getting wet. He was tired, but how could he allow himself to sleep again, given what had happened last time? A part of him doubted the girl was even asleep, although when he looked over at her silhouette, the gentle rise and fall of her ribcage was pretty convincing.
He looked away, but eventually felt his eyes drawn back. This girl, barely more than a child, was soon to be the most powerful being in the entire universe. What does it feel like, to know that no one can stand before you as an equal, he thought enviously. His entire life he’d wanted to be someone, to have someone look to him, to be needed. There was no one more needed by Zvalvadoria than her, and yet she seemed completely oblivious. It made him angry, so he set aside that particular train of thought. Empathy is the path to her trust, not anger. He sighed, feeling the cloying grasp of fatigue pull at him, and was nearly asleep when he heard a small whimper from where the girl lay. His ears perked up instinctively. Most of what she said was unintelligibly, but he could derive at least a few words. ‘Please’, ‘No’, and more than anything, ‘Jacob’.
