Taking the Knife (2 page)

Backing out of the shelter on all fours,
Sefe
panted from the agony in his back. Thankfully, the flame
runna
remained sitting where he'd told her.

"I'm called
Ana
."

He didn't answer, instead closing his eyes as he found the tenacity to get to his feet again. His brother's presence made
Sefe
long to lie down next to him as they had as children, to find peace and rest.%L14igh

"Spirit healing could help your pain."

He glared at the girl. "The Knife will end my pain. And yours."

She didn't respond.

Summoning all his reserves, he got one foot up under him. He planted the butt of his spear firmly against the hard, red earth and used the shaft to pull himself upright.
Just a little more
.
He could do it. He could feel her scrutiny like the morning sun on his skin.

Once he was standing, spine bent as if the weight of death already pulled him down, he focused his pain-blurred gaze toward the flame
runna
. She would feed the tribe for several days.
But what to do with his brother?
Medo
had left the tribe and joined the hunters, but
Sefe
could ask the tribe to accept him back. They would gladly admit a skilled fighter into the fold.

If he ever wakes up.

Sefe
shook the doubt from his head. He was a healer. He’d find a way to wake his brother. But first he had to catch the tribe. He couldn't carry
Medo
. And this slip of a girl would be no help. "Get up."

She rose from her seat on the stone with lithe compliance.

"Go over there." He pointed to the fire pit.

As she moved to where he indicated, he took her seat, looking out over the muddy river. Someone from the tribe would come looking for him eventually. They would want to recover what they could for the Flesh Feast. Then he’d have help carrying
Medo
.

One foot on the black earth of the fire pit, the girl cocked her head to look him up and down. "You're not very old. And you're marked a healer. Why would you take the Knife?"

"When will he wake up?"

Her nostrils flared with hatred. "I keep him asleep."

She had such confidence in her power. His chest tightened, urging him away from her magic. But he held his ground. "Why don't you make him free you, then?"

"When he's dead, I'll be free."

Sefe
raised one eyebrow. "Tied to a dead man."

The angry lines on her face ceased twitching. "I can keep you from the Knife." She advanced on him, the rope snaking around her feet as it followed her.

He rose from his seat, and fire raced down his hips and legs. His breath faltered as he fought the pain. She was so
bold,
he didn't think to get his spear between them until she was too close. Stars threatened the edges of his vision as the agony overwhelmed him. Forcing himself to suck in air, he caught the scent of tamarisk flowers coming from her naked skin. The dark circles of her irises reminded him of the Black Pool, where he and
Medo
had escaped the flame
runnas
so many years ago.

"Kiss me." Her arms were still tied behind her. She lifted her chin and thrust out her tiny breasts, as if she were a woman fully endowed.

"What?" He swayed, rock pressed against the back of his knees, and nearly toppled as his back cramped.

"My magic requires a kiss."

"I… don't need… your… magic." The words emerged between panting gasps.

Rising on her toes, she leaned forward, entering his air, filling his vision. She smelled divine. He brought his hands up between them, but he had no strength.

Her scabbed lips pressed roughly against his mouth. How long had it been since a woman had kissed him? He experienced little desire these days with the pain consuming him. Her tongue darted out, snaked between his lips, ran over his gums. A strange tingle laced through his mouth and crept like a pleasant drunken wave into his thoughts. Then it was over, and she stepped back, black eyes regarding him calmly.

He let out a breath he'd been holding. His entire body quivered as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The reaction in his groin rose like an old memory. He could take her right now. Push her down and do what he willed. The feel of a woman around him…

Not a woman.
A flame
runna
.

Lurching to one side, away from her and his desire, he pressed his lips with his fingertips. "What is this?"

"I told you. Spirit healing." She stood immobile, her gaze fierce.

He lifted the tip of his spear against her chest, ready to impale her with it in place of his manhood. A trickle of crimson blossomed against her breastbone and traced a line toward her belly button. She curled backward, sucking herself away without actually moving.

He made a noise deep in his throat. He wasn't sure if he wanted to fuck her or eat her. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Her magic had him confused. "This is a black thing."

"How? You're standing."

The snarl contorting his lips relaxed a fraction. He was standing, straight, his pain as distant as wisps of clouds. No remedies he knew of could work like this. His breath came short and fast, but not because of discomfort. He felt quick as a child again. The desire to leap and run around the clearing flashed through his mind.
To rouse his brother and race to the river.
To catch the tribe.
To be a man again.

She looked up at him through thick, black lashes. Licked her lips. "You want the magic? Then keep me safe. Keep the secret of my power, so no men may harm me to steal it. And I'll give it to you freely."

He lowered the spear and closed the distance between them, brushing her breasts with his chest. As he looked down into her face, elation coursed through his veins like a spring flood bringing life to the
Tox
. He should take her, right now, just to prove he could do it.

She cowered before him, her face scrunching in terror, and he was pleased. No one had been afraid of him in a long time.

"It's not … good … if you take too much." Her voice had lost
confidence,
wavering like it had the first time she'd spoken.

A niggle of pity shook him. He spun away from her and paced to the opening in the
amarantox
that led back to the foot trail. He had to think this through. He could take her for a slave. Although she was a flame
runna
, he thought the tribe would allow it, at least until they called a Hunger. But spirit healing – dare he court such dangerous magic, just to avoid the Knife? She’d rendered
Medo
completely helpless. She could do the same to him – and the rest of the tribe.

He twisted side to side, as if limbering for a run. The pain was still there, but dull, taken by the spirits to another realm. Turning, he found her backed to the other side of the clearing, as far as the rope would allow. Tossing his spear from hand to hand, he strutted around the glade. "How long
will
this healing last?"

She shrugged and tilted her head toward
Medo
. "Depends on how much you take."%L14igh

A rustling in the
amarantox
behind him made him level his spear, legs poised for action.

Armin, the leader of the tribe, appeared between the leaves, the status feathers at the head of his spear dripping river water. He spotted
Sefe
, moved forward, then noticed the girl. His eyes widened and he pulled back slightly, turning his face to the sky.

Sefe
bent and grasped the flame
runna's
rope, euphoric at the ease of movement. With a quick step he moved between the newcomer and the girl.

Armin’s gaze returned to the clearing. He coiled into an aggressive crouch,
then
leapt toward the green skinned prisoner, his spear
levelled
. "Kill it now. Before more come."

"No!"
Sefe
crossed his spear in front of him, ready to deflect a thrust. "She's mine to claim."

Armin licked his narrow lips. "I thought to find you dead, so far behind." He'd long been hinting that
Sefe's
inability to heal himself proved it was time to take the Knife. "You've got a duty to the tribe. But first I would taste flame
runna
flesh."

Sefe
repeated, "She's mine to claim." His heart beat so loudly he was sure the other man could hear it.

The bone piercings in Armin's eyebrows lifted in anticipation. He pressed his spear against
Sefe's
. "The tribe needs to eat. It's your duty to provide. One way or another."%L14igh

With unaccustomed strength,
Sefe
drew his shoulders back and widened his stance. "The Hunger's not called. Not yet."

Armin sneered as he assessed the girl. "Maybe the flame
runna
can keep up better than you. You want her to carry you?”

Sefe
knocked Armin's spear aside. The clash of the fire-hardened shafts echoed through the clearing. The status feathers on Armin’s spear trembled, and
Sefe
wanted nothing more than to show Armin who was stronger. The rest of the tribe would be glad to have someone finally stand up for them. With his spear's tip, he severed the rope and tugged the girl to her feet. "I can walk. Let's go."

Armin growled. "The tribe will call a Hunger when they see her. No way to stop it."

Sefe's
boldness fluttered into indecision. Armin had a point. The tribe was close to calling a Hunger anyway. All they needed was an excuse. Even if he took her as a slave, it was only a matter of time before they would put her to the Knife. And if they killed her, the tribe could be doomed, cursed by the spirits she controlled. He looked at his brother, asleep and helpless on the
Tox
. Who knew what else her power might do?

He swallowed and stared at his trophy. Her skin blazed greener than the autumn-hued
amarantox
leaves. He blinked as an idea settled on him.
A way to save the woman.

"Flame
runna
flesh is poisonous like
amarantox
. You can't eat her."

Armin's face fell. His lip twitched. “How do you know?”

“A healer understands poison.”

The leader raised his feathered spear, this time its point directed at
Sefe
. "Then she's worthless. And so are you. The
tribe's
complaining they're hungry. I can tell them the flame
runnas
finally got you."

Caught off guard,
Sefe
couldn’t suck in a breath. He fumbled with his spear. Armin was going to kill him?

The leader’s chest muscles flexed as he jabbed a probing strike
Sefe’s
direction.
Sefe
pivoted, avoiding the point, knowing the next time he might not be so lucky. His own spear, used as nothing but a cane for so long, listed out of balance in his grip. In spite of the flame
runna
magic, he was no match for the seasoned warrior.

Rotating to keep a circling Armin in sight,
Sefe
dropped the rope. He corrected his grasp on the spear’s shaft just in time to deflect another thrust. The flame
runna
had backed herself against the shelter, her brows furrowed as she watched the fight.

The tribe leader darted the opposite direction in an attempt to flank him. Feet blessedly agile,
Sefe
whirled to face him. Still, Armin's spear tip grazed his shoulder before he could twist out of the way.

He tried to reason with the leader. "You'd kill one of the Knowing? If the tribe finds out, they'll take you, too."

Armin feinted and jabbed, missing
Sefe's
gut by a breath. "They're hungry en ithiighough not to ask too much." Probably true.

Sefe
tried another angle. "They’ll think it strange that flame
runnas
used a spear instead of fire."

Armin hesitated,
then
thrust again. "I'll cook you up before I carry you back. You’ve got a duty."

They circled. Out of the corner of his eye,
Sefe
saw the girl crouching by the shelter. "Run," he commanded. He would not give Armin the satisfaction of killing them both.

Her voice cut through the fight. "There's a hunter in here."

Armin jumped at the sound, nearly tripping as he backed into the
amarantox
. His spear tip swung toward the flame
runna
, and
Sefe
thought for a moment the man would throw it. Instead, he hesitated, shifting his attention between
Sefe
and the girl.