Pursuer (Alwahi Series) (4 page)

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They walked for what seemed like hours, the warriors speaking to each other in their singsong language, like some melody they created together. It became quite clear the leader of this band of a dozen warriors
was
the woman that had approached her. On closer examination, Zanas decided that “woman” might not be the right title for her, as she appeared to be more of a girl. It seemed odd for such a young person to be in charge of what looked like a group of seasoned warriors. However, there was no misunderstanding the respect and deference the men showed the warrior girl.

Zanas realized they were all somewhat young for a group that was obviously some kind of war party. Each one carried at least one weapon. One young man carried a club with jagged thorns that jutted out of it. Another red headed girl carried two curved blades that extended both in front and behind her hands, a wooden handle placed for grip. Zanas could imagine this blade being thrust into an oncoming enemy, and then pulled out to sink into an opponent behind.

She found herself captivated by the tattoos that lined the warrior’s faces, swooping gracefully on one side, and trailing down their bodies like a path of ink. The tattoos seemed to shimmer, a light glow in the green of the forest.

They hiked even deeper into the jungle; the air was thick with moist, hot air. Zanas had long since torn off the sleeves of her sweater and she yearned for even less clothing. It was quiet, except for the haunting cries of the birds that seemed forever to be calling. She reached forward and pushed a long green leaf out of her way, and caught sight of a small pond. The water was clear, and after a long hike, looked very refreshing.

Zanas watched as Thomas rushed forward, walking a few feet into the pond, gathering a handful of water into his hands. The teenager with the club stepped forward and motioned aggressively. Thomas, in young pride, shoved at the boy, not understanding what he was saying. Zanas tensed as she watched the young warrior. It might be easy to dismiss this young looking boy, if you did not know what to look for. He was extremely well toned, with defined muscles that expressed years of high aerobics. She noticed the sure way he held his weapon, and realized he was
very
good with it. Zanas finally noticed the cold look in his eyes that expressed the depths of a soul that it had taken a life. This boy was a killer, and he could finish Thomas in a second.

Then the tension was gone. The boy shrugged, a knowing smile on his lips, and stepped aside. Zanas continued to watch the boy as he went to stand by the small girl with the knives and a crooked nosed teen. He said something to these two and they laughed, the small girl watching Thomas with menacing eyes. There was something in the way that she looked that seemed predatory to Zanas. But there was something else as well. Zanas concentrated for a moment. She was waiting.

Zanas heard the scream next, turning to see the long tentacle arms of a serpent pluck Thomas from the bank. He screamed again as he was lifted high in the air, and then he was slammed head first into the water, a large spray of liquid hitting those on the bank. The water was still, no longer any movement. Zanas stepped forward, a moment of confusion sweeping over her. The tiny red head stepped in front of her and shook her head, pointing to the water, and making a cutting motion across her neck, her beautiful eyes cold. Zanas understood her meaning perfectly, Thomas was dead already.

It was not long after that when they came to a more worn trail. Zanas could tell that it was used often and by many people. She could hear the sound of life up ahead and recognized there was some sort of village. As they came into a dense part of the forest, she noticed trees, just like the one they had sheltered in, hollowed out to make homes. The trees were enormous, and carved out they made a good-sized dwelling. Zanas noticed that they had tunneled right up through the center of the trees to serve as chimneys for their fires. There were people all around, staring out of the green of the jungle.

They stood in their doorways, small squares cut into the trees that they covered with skin. The pathways were worn bare in between the trees, making it seem like a paved city. They continued down a path and erupted into a cleared central area. Zanas stared up and looked at the blue sky as she came into its presence. This must be where they gathered, a lone tree dwelling sat in the center of the clearing. They walked up to the front, and the black haired leader called something in her language. There was silence for a moment, and then a feminine voice responded. The skin was whisked aside, and a bent old woman stared at them, a toothless smile on her face.

Zanas followed the woman into her dwelling with the rest of the party. They sat around a huge fire, on the skins of animals she did not recognize. They were soon offered bowls of a wonderful smelling stew, that Zanas happily accepted, doubting they would bring her all this way just to poison her. The meat was gamey but with a wonderful roasted taste, mixed with roots and some kind of grain that easily mashed when chewed. She noticed a slight sheen to the roots, a slight glow.

A pair of dark haired girls walked in, carrying a large bowl. They placed it before the old woman and she peered over the high ridge, staring deep inside it. The girls handed her a cup, and she dipped it in the bowl, bringing it to her mouth and drinking.

Zanas observed the crowd. The girls took turns carrying the bowl around to each of the warriors. Zanas watched as they all stared into the bowl and then drank from it. The bowl was brought to her next. The warriors had been chatting among themselves, with an occasional comment by the old woman. As they lowered the bowl in front of her, the room became silent, the warriors watching. Zanas leaned forward and stared into the glowing mist.

She expected to see only liquid, but instead, turned her eyes to a sea of opulence. The bubbling mixture, swirled around the bowl, like a serpent awaiting release. The sweet smell of the liquid made her mouth start to water, and she lowered the cup into the bowl, lifting it to her lips. She took one last look at the warriors and their shaman, meeting the eyes of petite red haired warrior. A look was echoed in each of their eyes. They challenged her to drink the mixture. And Zanas was never one to shrink from a challenge. She tipped the cup back, drinking it until the last drop.

The liquid burned a trail down her throat, slithering down the inside of her like the opulent snake it resembled. She felt the substance traveling through her body, searing through her blood, and out towards her extremities. Finally, the burning began to subside, leaving an icy cold behind.

The bowl was picked up and placed in front of her sister, and she too swallowed the liquid. The other survivors quietly refused, and were met with sneers from the warriors, who immediately got up and exited the tree. Zanas realized when they lifted the flap that it was beginning to get dark, as she caught a glimpse of the night sky. As she turned to look at her sister, Zanas saw a trail of light as her head moved. Asenya stood near the old woman and the dark haired sisters, speaking softly, her lips moving rapidly. Zanas stood up to walk to her and found herself suddenly dizzy.
She needed air
, she thought as she stumbled out of the flap, and into the night.

A fire was burning in the clearing and natives were gathered all around it. She stumbled toward the fire, bumping into people along the way. A few turned to look at her, their faces elongated and blurry. A deep reverberating drumming echoed in the night. Every beat pounded onto the drums, was like a pounding in her soul.

She had never experienced such dancing; there was no awareness, solely her and the beating of the drums. She felt the crowd of people around her, yet they did not exist. The pounding of her steps mimicked the pounding of her flying feet through the forest. Zanas opened her eyes and looked at the starlit sky, as it winked back at her. Breathing in the cool night air, she felt a bursting inside her, somewhere deep inside her spine. As though she had been chained for all her life, and at that very moment, those chains were cut.

The voices around her rose as one, hers joined with them.

“
Oh great Alwahi, hear our cries. Oh great Alwahi, we are yours…”

Zanas awoke the next morning, staring up at the sky through the chimney in the tree. It was obvious that there had been a fire lit in the dwelling, but it was now nothing but coals. She had no memory of how she had gotten into the tree. Her eyes searched over the sleeping bodies, and she noticed the telltale sign of Asenya’s long black hair trailing out from beneath one of the furs. Quietly extracting herself, she exited out into the morning air.

There were many people walking about and completing chores. She was no longer in the clearing she had been in the night before, but housed in one of the trees that lined the long worn pathway. A few children ran past her carrying small sticks that eerily reminded her of the club the teen boy had carried the day before. Zanas had no particular direction that she was heading and no one paid her any notice. It was becoming clear the survivors were not considered captives, which made her begin to wonder what they
were
considered.

Deep in thought, she almost walked right into the petite red haired girl that they had trekked with the day before. The girl came striding out from one of the tree dwellings, and gave an agile step back to avoid colliding with Zanas. They stared at each other for a moment and then the girl smiled, walked back into her tree, and came out quickly with a bundle. She handed it over to Zanas.

“
Surrena asked that I give this to you and your sister. Farther down the trail, there is a safe pool for you to bathe. No one will be eaten by the kolhara today,” she expressed with a smile.

“
You could have saved him,” Zanas accused with a hard voice.

The girl’s face became serious for a moment and she responded with cold eyes. “The jungle gives leniencies for no weakness, and the faint hearted soon lead us to peril,” she said, as she turned and walked away.

Zanas followed the instructions the girl had given. She passed a group of hooded villagers, their eyes cast down, only the whisper of the flowing cloaks as they walked by. The gentle sound of moving water alerted her to the pond. Other than two small children swimming in the shallows, there was no one else near her. Zanas placed the bundle on the bank and looked inside it. She noticed clothing like those she had seen on the warriors. Smiling to herself, she began to pull off her dirty clothing. The thought of being clean erased any fears of modesty; she sank into the water, swimming out towards the middle. Unbraiding her hair, she let the gentle pull of the stream wash it clean. Zanas emerged slightly shivering, and hurriedly pulled on the clothes.

She made her way back towards the tree she had awakened in, glancing wearily at the villagers as she passed. For the most part, they seemed to ignore her. When she entered the tree, she noticed that her sister and the rest of the survivors were awake. Zanas handed the bundle to Asenya and mentioned the stream farther down the path. A rustle from behind alerted her to the black haired sisters entering the tree.

“
Looks like Arrelia gave you the clothes we found for you. I left it with her this morning guessing she would see you before we did, her tree is so close.”

Zanas guessed this was the Surrena that Arrelia had mentioned earlier. She took note of the long r’s that were expressed in their names, almost a musical rolling of the tongue. Zanas nodded gesturing to her outfit.

“
Thank you, this is much more comfortable than what I was wearing earlier.” The girls nodded, turning their eyes to Asenya.

“
Grandmother would like to speak with you, if you are willing,” Surrena said.

Zanas read an excitement in their eyes, and began to wonder what it was about, when she noticed the quietness of the tent. She turned and looked at the survivors, who were staring with awestruck wonder, their mouths gaping open, in a comedic way. A glance at her sister showed she seemed just as perplexed by their behavior.

“
What’s wrong?” Asenya asked, and the shocked group began to shake their heads. A balding man stepped forward, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants.

“
How do you know what they are saying?” he asked in a low voice. “And when did you learn to speak their language?”

It was a complete blow to Zanas when she realized what he said was true. She had not given a second thought to understanding the language when she had awaken, and she never even realized that she was replying to them in their own tongue. Zanas glanced at the sisters who stared back, their eyes filled with laughter. From their response, she could tell that this odd occurrence brought no bewilderment to them. She turned back to the survivors with no answer to present, and noticed for the first time a new emotion being projected from them. An emotion she had never expected. One that sent a small shiver of excitement through her. They
feared
her…