Authors: Shannon Greenland

Tags: #Suspense

Native Tongue (30 page)

BOOK: Native Tongue

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What resources do I have at my disposal?
Dirt, rocks, my knife, canyon, swinging bridge.

With that thought, I grabbed a handful of rocks and dirt and slung it at Talon.

With a string of curses, he wiped his eyes, and I used that opportunity to move. I pulled my knife from the back of my pants and threw it in his direction.

He roared out in pain, and his face slowly morphed into an evil I didn’t think I’d ever seen before. Like something else had taken over his body. With a deep, guttural scream, he pulled my knife from his thigh, nailed me with his possessed eyes, and raised the knife high above his head. Blood dripped from the tip down his face. With an inhuman grunt, he charged me.

I dodged to the right a split second too late. The knife grazed my side, and I hissed in a breath.

Talon laughed.

“Leave her alone!” Parrot yelled. “It’s me you want.”

Talon laughed again right as the moonlight disappeared, plunging us into darkness. I heard his evil chuckle as he scurried away from me.

I stayed very still and quiet as my eyes adjusted to the night, and I searched every shadow, trying to see where Talon had gone. I made out a figure to my right and narrowed my gaze. I watched as Parrot stealthily climbed a tree, lifted his knife above his head, and then leapt. I heard two bodies collide, and Talon’s grunt echoed through the night.

I couldn’t figure out where Parrot’s knife had gone. If he’d injured Talon. If Talon had knocked the knife away.

I raced toward them as they rolled across the ground, coming up against the swinging bridge. Talon got on top, and I saw a jagged cut crisscross his back. He brought his fist up and slammed it into Parrot’s jaw.

Parrot kneed him in the side, gaining top ground. He brought his fist back and nailed Talon in the mouth. A chunk of white flew through the air, and I hoped it was Talon’s tooth.

I searched the ground, looking for a rock or any sort of weapon. I caught sight of Parrot’s knife, grabbed the wooden handle, and lunged toward them. Parrot shifted, and I brought the knife down, jamming its jagged edge into Talon’s shoulder.

He growled as he yanked my hair and slung me over him, and I smacked onto the bridge. With a scream I jumped to my feet, spun, and rammed the heel of my boot into Talon’s head. At the same time Parrot jabbed his elbow into Talon’s throat. Parrot lifted his forehead, ready for a head butt—

“Stop,” I told him.

Parrot froze.

“He’s out.”

Neither one of us moved for a second.

Then slowly Parrot lifted off, and the two of us stood looking down at Talon. His thick body lay sprawled half on the bridge, half on the ground. Blood trickled from his eye, his mouth, and a gash in his forehead. Dirt and mud smeared his chest, arms, and legs.

I stepped over him. “We need to find something to tie him up with.”

Parrot slid the knife from his shoulder. “I’ll watch him. You go.”

I hurried over to the jungle’s edge and got down on my hands and knees, searching for long weeds, big leaves, anything to tie Talon up until we dragged him back to the village. My fingers connected with a thick vine. “Got something!”

With all my strength I dragged it from the thick overgrowth, turned, saw Parrot glance over his shoulder at me, and at the same time Talon lifted up. “PAAARRROOOTTT!”

Talon grabbed Parrot’s ankle and yanked, sending him off balance, toppling over the canyon’s edge.

“NOOO!” I screamed.

Parrot’s horse, Abrienda, shot out from the jungle, and I stumbled away. I caught a glimpse of Jonathan on her back and nearly passed out.

Jonathan leaped off Abrienda and took off in the direction Parrot had gone. The horse reared up on her hind legs right over Talon, coming down only inches from his face.

He screamed and punched and kicked, grabbed fistfuls of dirt and rock, and threw it at her.

Baring her teeth, Abrienda let out a crying whinny, kicked out her front hooves, and came right down on top of him.

The sounds of bones crunching echoed through the night, and I cringed.

My horse, Diablo, flew right past me, and I caught a glimpse of Guillermo on his back.

I scrambled over to Jonathan, Guillermo, and the spot where I’d seen Parrot last. Guillermo was directing my horse, Diablo, back. Gripping a rope in his teeth, my horse slowly inched back, pulling with all his might at the rope. On his belly, Jonathan reached over the ledge and latched on to Parrot’s forearm.

I stretched out right beside Jonathan and grabbed whatever I could on Parrot as Jonathan and Diablo pulled him up.

When I saw Parrot’s bloody face, I burst into happy tears. As soon as his body was clear, I grabbed on. And somewhere in the recesses of my subconscious I registered Jonathan hugging us both.

[14]

Turned out the
Huworo chief was the hit man, hired by Talon to kill anyone who stood in the way of his getting the Mother Nature vase.

Talon’s coconspirator, the Southern Mexican chief, was taken away. He would stand trial with the alliance for sabotaging the talks. Apparently, he was involved in Talon’s slave trade, too, and would stand trial in six different countries for his crimes.

Jonathan had given the information concerning Parrot’s mom to TL. And that was all we knew at this point.

The Huworo chief had told us Jonathan died and Guillermo was seriously injured. Obviously, that was a lie. Apparently, the Huworo chief had shot them with sleeping darts, and they’d been unconscious for a while.

And now here Quirk and I stood the next afternoon in front of all the other chiefs. A white, gauzy bandage covered the back of Quirk’s head where ten stitches had been put in.

We had the final glyph translation of the ancient code and were about to reveal it.

And I suspected
no one
was going to be happy.

Since we would be speaking English, Parrot wasn’t needed for the chiefs. He sat in the back near Jaaci to translate for her. Besides my team members, she was the only nonchief allowed in this meeting.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Quirk greeted them.

All the chiefs’ personal assistants leaned in and whispered the translation in their leader’s ear.

“As you all know, I and my assistant”—Quirk indicated me—“have been working in the cave for the past days sketching the drawings, researching, and coming up with a translation. We were hired to give you the translation. What you do with it is up to the alliance.” Quirk smiled. “And we are very pleased to have broken the ancient code.”

He paused for the translators. . . .

“The code was supposed to reveal a key piece of information about the vase, and, as suspected, that key piece of information deals with the ownership of the Mother Nature vase.”

The translators whispered. It may have been my imagination, but it seemed as if every chief in the hut leaned forward, waiting for the answer.

“The owner of the Mother Nature vase is”—Quirk paused—“the Muemiraa tribe.”

Translation occurred, and everyone began speaking at once. Clearly, no one was happy.

He held his hand up to let them know he had more to say. Slowly, the hut quieted.

“As we all know, Jaaci is the only remaining member of the Muemiraa tribe.” Quirk looked at Jaaci. “So she is the owner of the vase.”

Parrot translated to Jaaci, and her eyes widened in complete disbelief.

Quirk nodded to me, and I took that as my cue to finish.

“The code also revealed that the person granted ownership of the Mother Nature vase will be deemed a prince or princess.” I looked at Jaaci again. “In this case, a princess.”

Parrot gave Jaaci the translation, and she looked across the hut at me in stunned amazement.

I could only imagine what I’d feel like if I’d just found out I was a princess. And the owner of a centuries-old artifact.

“Lastly,” I continued, “based on documented proof, a century ago the Muemiraa tribe split, forming the Iokojoja people. That makes Jaaci, through her blood connections, a member of the Iokojoja people. She is a princess of the Iokojoja people.”

Translation occurred, and my gaze went straight to Jaaci. I was happy for her. She had a family again. A real family. With bloodlines that traced back centuries.

I’d give anything for that.

The chiefs met after we
left the ceremonial hut, deciding if they would accept our translation of the ancient code. Roughly thirty minutes later they had.

That afternoon, all the chiefs, along with my team, Quirk, and Guillermo, escorted Jaaci to the river. The same river we had bathed in every morning.

Quirk served as the official recorder, sketching the scenes and detailing in words the historical events taking place.

All the chiefs and Jaaci were dressed in beautiful ceremonial garb. Some wore enormous headdresses, others intricate breast-plates, and still others had their entire bodies decorated with paint.

And Jaaci . . . she wore her hair long and loose, and her white leather dress hung all the way to the ground with a slight train, as if she was getting married.

Parrot couldn’t take his eyes off her. Heck, I couldn’t either.

I’d heard the words
ethereal
and
celestial
before, but I’d never truly understood their meaning until now. Until looking at Jaaci.

In sequence, old to young, all the chiefs said a prayer in their language. I supposed they were blessing the vase as they passed it around, handing it finally to Jaaci.

Closing her eyes, she raised it above her head, saying her own prayer.

Goose bumps popped on my skin as I listened to her.

In a handwoven cloth, Jaaci wrapped the vase and carried it down to the river, where a canoe waited with the Iokojoja chief and his family. Turning, she bowed to all of us, and we silently watched as the canoe backed away from the shore. Parrot had told me their tribe lived a day’s trip away on the river.

After they disappeared from sight, we all trekked through the jungle back to the village, and hours later, the chiefs and their assistants packed up and left. My team packed as well.

“Hannah,” Quirk called me over as Jonathan and Guillermo were double-checking everything packed on the horses.

I followed him behind one of the huts.

“I wasn’t sure if we’d get any privacy, so I just wanted to tell you I really enjoyed working with you.”

I smiled. “Me, too. Who knows, maybe we’ll be on another mission sometime.”

BOOK: Native Tongue

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