Chương 17: B1 Chapter 16

The man with the axe moved farther from the shelter. He still hadn't seen me. His attention remained on the fighting ahead, where one of our hunters, Tarek, struggled with another Bone Jaw. He watched for a moment, waiting for an opening to join the fight. So did I. I kept the blowgun against my lips as the man stepped forward, his back still toward me. Another step, and the muscles in his legs shifted as he lowered himself, preparing to rush into the fight.

His ankle was bare beneath the bottom of his leg wrapping. I blew. The dart vanished from the tube. The man jerked, his foot kicking backward as though something had bitten him. He looked down at the dart embedded in the back of his ankle and stumbled, staring at the small puncture in his skin. Then he heard the faint clatter of the dart falling into the dirt behind him and turned toward the sound. I was already moving.

I pulled myself backward behind the hut and crawled along its wall, keeping low beneath the hanging leaves. The man shouted. He had seen the dart now and was looking around, searching for whoever had fired it. I kept moving. I didn't wait to see whether the poison would take effect because waiting would get me killed. The Bone Jaw knew someone had attacked him, and that was enough. I needed to be somewhere else before he found me.

Around the next hut, behind a stack of firewood, then through the narrow space between a basket rack and the wall. My shoulder protested every pull. The tight wrapping helped, but the wound hadn't disappeared. Each movement dragged something deep inside the shoulder against the damaged muscle. I ignored it and pulled another dart from the bundle. The fighting had shifted while I moved. The man with the axe had joined the struggle, apparently deciding the dart didn't matter. Good.

He came at Tarek from the side, raising the axe. Tarek saw him too late. He twisted away from the first Bone Jaw, but doing so exposed his back to the second. The axe came down. Then the man's leg failed. Not all at once. His toes curled into the dirt. His calf tightened beneath the skin as he tried to plant his foot, but the ankle would not hold him. His heel dragged sideways, and his knee dipped. The axe struck the dirt instead. Tarek turned.

The Bone Jaw tried to recover, dragging the poisoned foot beneath him as he raised the axe again. His fingers had begun to stiffen around the handle. He flexed them once, trying to force them to obey. The other Bone Jaw shouted at him. He answered angrily and tried to step forward. His knee buckled. His breathing changed, coming faster now, shallow and uneven. His chest worked hard beneath his armor, but the effort did not seem to give him enough air. A tremor ran through his arm as he lifted the axe. Tarek saw it.

He didn't know about the dart or that I was there. He only knew the man in front of him had suddenly become weak. That was enough. He attacked. His spear drove forward. The Bone Jaw knocked it aside with his axe, but the movement lacked the strength it had possessed moments before. The spear came again. The Bone Jaw tried to retreat, but his poisoned foot dragged behind him. His hand tightened around the axe, then spasmed, and the weapon dipped as he stumbled backward.

The other Bone Jaw tried to intervene, but Tarek shifted away from him and drove the butt of his spear into the poisoned man's chest. The Bone Jaw fell onto his back. He tried to rise, one arm pushing against the earth. His elbow trembled. His fingers clawed at the dirt, but they did not seem to obey him properly. His body lifted halfway, then collapsed. Tarek drove the spear down. I looked away before it struck, not because I couldn't watch, but because I had already moved on.

There were too many fights happening around me to waste time watching one end. I searched the village. The poison was doing what I needed it to do. It didn't have to kill them. It only had to change something. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. A foot that stopped holding weight. Fingers that stiffened around a weapon. A hand that cramped and released its grip. A breath that came too fast and too shallow.

A warrior who stumbled when another man expected him to stand. That was enough. My father didn't need much of an opening. Neither did Makua or Hokan. They were already killing Bone Jaw. They simply needed help. I wasn't fighting beside them. I was changing their fights. I searched through the smoke and found Makua between two huts with three Bone Jaw surrounding him. One attacked from the front while another circled toward his left. The third waited behind them with a spear, watching for Makua to make a mistake.

He wasn't fighting yet. He was waiting. So was I. I brought the blowgun back to my lips. The third man never looked in my direction. He was watching Makua. Everyone was watching Makua. I fired. The dart struck the waiting Bone Jaw beneath the ribs. He flinched but did not cry out, although his spear dipped. Makua saw it. He drove his shoulder into the man in front of him, knocking him sideways, and thrust his spear into the poisoned warrior's throat. The Bone Jaw fell without understanding what had happened.

The second man rushed in. I loaded another dart. He was moving too quickly for a clean shot at the ankle, so I aimed higher. The dart struck the side of his neck. He slapped at it and turned toward the huts, searching the smoke. I had already shifted behind the basket rack. He took one step toward me, then another. His left arm went slack. The spear slipped from his hand. Makua seized the opening and cut across his stomach. The Bone Jaw folded around the wound. I moved again. A shout came from near the shelter.

One of our hunters had fallen, and a Bone Jaw stood over him, raising a club for the killing blow. I brought the blowgun up and fired. The dart struck the Bone Jaw's wrist. His hand opened, and the club dropped. The hunter beneath him rolled away and drove a knife into the man's thigh. The Bone Jaw staggered, and the hunter rose with him, striking again beneath the ribs. The Bone Jaw fell, but the hunter did not. He had survived. Barely. Blood ran from a cut along his scalp, and one arm hung uselessly at his side.

He tried to stand straight, but his knees shook. I almost moved toward him. Then another Bone Jaw came through the smoke. The wounded hunter saw him too late. He raised his knife with his good hand, but the Bone Jaw's spear struck first. It entered beneath the hunter's ribs and drove him backward against the firewood stack. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. The Bone Jaw pulled the spear free. The hunter slid down the wood and did not move. I froze for half a breath, then crawled on.

The dart had saved him from the first blow. It had not saved him from the battle. Hokan was there. He had one Bone Jaw pinned against a hut wall, but another was coming behind him with a stone-headed hammer. Hokan hadn't seen him. I had. I loaded another dart as the hammer wielder lifted the weapon. I fired. The dart struck the back of his knee. His leg collapsed before the hammer could fall, and the weapon crashed into the dirt beside Hokan's head.

Hokan turned, saw the man kneeling behind him, and drove his elbow into the Bone Jaw's face. The man toppled. Hokan finished him with a thrust through the chest. The Bone Jaw Hokan had pinned tried to escape. I fired again. The dart struck his hand, and his fingers spasmed against Hokan's arm. Hokan twisted free and slammed the man's head against the hut wall. Once. Twice. The body slid down the woven reeds. I was breathing harder now. My shoulder burned, and the blowgun felt heavier in my hands.

But the Bone Jaw were beginning to notice. A man near the fire turned toward the huts. Another shouted and pointed. They were looking for me. Good. That meant they were no longer watching the people in front of them. I crawled behind a fallen basket and loaded the last dart in the bundle. A Bone Jaw saw me. His eyes widened. He shouted, raised his spear, and charged. I waited until he was close. I fired. The dart struck beneath his jaw. He stumbled but kept coming.

I rolled aside as the spear stabbed into the dirt where my chest had been. The Bone Jaw tried to pull it free. His fingers locked around the shaft, but his arm trembled. I kicked the spear away. He reached for me with his other hand, but his knees gave out and he fell forward. I caught the knife at my belt and drove it into the soft place beneath his ribs. For a moment, I stayed over him, breathing hard. Around me, the fight had changed.

Bone Jaw stumbled through the smoke, some clutching useless hands, others dragging failing legs. Our hunters moved through the openings those failures created. A spear found a throat. A club struck a temple. A blade opened a belly. But our hunters were falling too. A man I had seen fighting near the shelter collapsed beside the fire with a spear through his chest. Another disappeared beneath three Bone Jaw and did not rise again.

Tarek was still standing, but blood ran down his arm, and his spear shook each time he lifted it. The village had become one fight instead of many. Not a victory. Not yet. Only a struggle in which both sides were losing people. And I was moving through all of it, never stopping or claiming each death, only touching the battle where it needed to change, then slipping away before anyone could find me. A foot that stopped holding weight. Fingers that stiffened around a weapon.

A hand that cramped and released its grip. A breath that came too fast and too shallow. A warrior who stumbled when another man expected him to stand. That was enough. Sometimes. Not always. My father didn't need much of an opening. Neither did Makua or Hokan. But the others needed more than I could give them. The Bone Jaw were finally searching for me. Makua appeared between two huts, blood running down one arm. He looked toward the place where the last man had fallen. Then he looked at me.

For the first time, he understood what I had been doing. Behind him, one of our hunters cried out. Makua turned too late. A Bone Jaw drove a blade into the hunter's side. The hunter struck back, but his blow lacked strength. The Bone Jaw pulled free and shoved him into the dirt. Makua rushed toward them. I had no dart left. I dropped the blowgun and reached for my knife as the Bone Jaw raised his weapon over the fallen hunter. Makua reached him first. His spear drove through the man's back. The Bone Jaw collapsed.

The hunter beneath him was alive, but barely. Blood spread beneath his body as Makua dragged him clear. I looked down at the empty dart bundle. I had changed the fight. I had not controlled it. That difference mattered. The smoke thickened around us. The Bone Jaw were still coming, and our hunters were still dying. And I had no more darts. I tightened my hand around the knife. The Bone Jaw never looked in my direction. They were watching Makua. Everyone was watching Makua. I smiled around the wood.

That was their mistake.