Chương 24: B1 Chapter 23

I remembered that moment better than I remembered most things from my childhood. The words floating beside me. The purple light against the trees. E'ru lying broken in the dirt behind me, refusing to look at something every part of me wanted to see. I remembered thinking he was a fool. I looked across the chamber toward him. He'd changed so much from the boy I remembered crawling through the mud that day. We both had.

We'd lived lives neither of us could've imagined back then, seen things that would've made those two boys believe every story Eyowon had ever told us. And somehow, when I looked at him, I could still see that same stubborn little bastard underneath it all. I should've listened to him. Of course, you could only expect so much from an arrogant child. I'd been strong. Stronger than E'ru. Faster than E'ru.

I'd believed I was going to become the greatest hunter our tribe had ever seen, and there had been very little anyone could've said to convince me otherwise. Especially E'ru. The crippled boy who took twice as long to get anywhere had told me not to read the words of the gods. So, of course, I knew better. Funny how that worked out. I wasn't unhappy with what I'd become. Far from it. I'd lived a good life.

I'd become someone I was proud to be, and there were people and things I wouldn't have traded for all the power in existence. But I'd wondered. Gods, how many times had I wondered? What would've happened if I'd listened to him that day? What would've happened if I'd turned my head away from those words and simply believed? Because that was the difference between us. E'ru believed when the rest of us needed proof. I'd thought that made him stupid. I'd thought a lot of things when I was young.

Then I'd watched that stupid boy become something none of us could've imagined. I was happy with who I'd become. But I could've been so much more. Maybe that was arrogance speaking again. Maybe some part of that stupid child still lived inside me and wanted to believe that if I'd only made the same choice E'ru had, I could've followed him wherever that impossible path eventually led. I'd never know. Because when E'ru told me to turn away, I hadn't listened. I remembered the jungle. The blood. The purple light.

The words floating beside me. And the arrogant child I'd been, so certain that he knew better than his best friend. It bothered me that the Bone Jaw didn't run. They moved into the trees in small groups, some of them still carrying women or children while others kept their weapons pointed at us. A few dragged wounded men, though most left anyone who couldn't move on their own. I wanted to follow and put my spear through the backs of the nearest ones, but my body had other ideas.

The moment I tried to move forward, pain flowed through my leg and caused my stride to shorten. Blood still ran from the cut on my arm, and I could feel my face swelling along my jaw. Hokan stood near me, breathing heavily.

"They're taking them," he said.

"I know," I replied.

"But we can't stop them. Not now, at least." Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. I watched as his fingers tightened around the shaft of a weapon he'd taken from one of them.

"But we can't let them do this," he argued. I glanced around and saw how few of us were standing. Those who could still fight were covered in blood. Joa held one hand against his side while trying to help another hunter stay on his feet. Tarek sat in the dirt with his spear across his legs, staring at nothing. My father leaned heavily against his spear. Timoteo lay where he had fallen. I looked at him and frowned. There would be time to mourn his death later and time to get revenge. Right now, this wasn't the time.

Hokan's eyes followed mine.

"I should have done more to save him."

"We couldn't have," I replied.

"He would not want us mourning his passing. Instead, we should honor his life by living for our people." A grunt came from Hokan, but he said nothing else for a few seconds. Joa called out Hokan's name.

"Go help him," I said.

"We can mourn later." He nodded and left, not saying another word. My eyes kept scanning the area, watching as the last of the Bone Jaw vanished into the jungle. Then movement caught my attention. Someone was crawling toward us, and for a second, I wasn't sure who they were. E'ru! I stared at him, able to see how bad he really looked. Mud covered his body from his chest to his feet. There was dried and fresh blood all over his face, arms, and the traces of clothes he still had on.

One side of his body looked to be barely working, and his shoulder was wrapped in a crude bandage. Yet he kept crawling, never stopping or slowing. I almost laughed at the fact that E'ru was being E'ru. Then Yanrah saw him, and the older man's spear fell from his hand as he moved toward his son.

"E'ru!" the old warrior cried out, dropping beside him. I started toward them, my leg hurting badly enough that I knew I was limping. Still, I refused to let it slow me down, ignoring the muscles that complained or cramped. By the time I reached them, Yanrah was already examining E'ru's shoulder. E'ru's eyes fell on me. His face was pale beneath the mud.

"I knew you were hurt when you disappeared," I stated, lowering myself beside them.

"I saw what you were doing with the blowgun. Every time one of those bastards suddenly forgot how to hold a spear or stand on a leg, you were hiding somewhere nearby."

"I was helping you all. It looked like you needed it," he replied. I snorted because E'ru still hadn't lost his sense of humor. He was half dead and still finding a way to insult me.

"You were irritating them."

"I'm just glad I could help. I..." His words stopped, and I saw that Yanrah had touched something near the hole in his shoulder.

"Foolish boy," Yanrah muttered.

"Crawling through the jungle with this kind of wound. The dragon's blood and herbs look to have buried themselves into your shoulder."

"I didn't have a choice," E'ru answered.

"It was use it and ignore the pain or watch everyone I love die." Those words hit me harder than any of the weapons from today had. There were moments when E'ru said something foolish enough that I wanted to knock him over. And then there were moments like this. I looked at him and remembered the Bone Jaw around me. Multiple times they had been ready to strike, to end my life or someone else's. Yet a dart came, and they lost the strength in their hand or leg.

They had turned their attention from us and toward the one who was causing their warriors to die. E'ru, the cripple that everyone worried about, had drawn the attention of the Bone Jaw. He'd saved us all and had endured so much because he loved us. The boy I used to mock because it took him twice as long to get somewhere had saved my life, and probably more than once. As I knelt there, unsure what to say, purple lights brightened between us. I noticed E'ru immediately looked away, but I couldn't.

Or I guess I chose not to. There were words before me. I had seen them earlier. We all had, but I hadn't had a chance to really look at them. The fighting started before I could understand what they said. There had been no time to think about whether I should have read them at all. But once again, they were before me.

"You see them too? The words?" E'ru asked.

"I do."

"But I will not read them," he said.

"We know we are not meant for them." The way he spoke and the certainty he had made me uncomfortable. I had grown up with the same teaching he had. Words belonged to the gods and the prophets read them. Those who were chosen for such things read them. I was a hunter, and as such, was not worthy of them. But that was before this moment. Yanrah stood, seemingly not concerned with our conversation at this moment or the words that stood before all of us.

"We'll need to find someone to help," he said.

"Stay here. I'll be back with someone." He hurried away and left me with his son. So we did what we always did. We traded words. I called him a fly, an annoyance, and he reminded me that he was what he was.

"I am a hunter and you are my people. No matter what, I'll always protect my tribe." I smiled at what he said. He was E'ru. Slow like a sloth, but he was the one who never gave up. Before I came back with a really good reply, the words beside me brightened. I looked away, knowing the effort it took as I longed to read them. I wanted to know what the gods were saying. Fear crept up inside me.

"Makua!" Joa's voice carried over the noise of the village. I turned toward him.

"Makua, I need your hands over here!" I looked back at E'ru. He looked like shit. There was no nicer way to think about it. His skin was pale beneath the mud and blood, his shoulder was torn open, and Yanrah had left me here with him while he went looking for help. Joa called my name again.

"Go," E'ru said. I frowned at him.

"You look like you're about to die."

"I probably am."

"That doesn't make me want to leave."

"My father is getting help." E'ru shifted slightly, then grimaced and stopped whatever he'd been trying to do.

"Right now, I just need to fucking lie here." I hesitated.

"Go help Joa," he said.

"I'll try not to die. Besides, if I did, who would annoy you like the flies?" I laughed despite myself.

"Fine. But if your father comes back and finds you dead, I'm telling him you ordered me to leave."

"Tell him whatever you want. I'll be dead." I shook my head and pushed myself upright. Joa called my name again, more urgently this time. I gave E'ru one last look before turning toward the sound. The floating words followed me as I walked away, calling out to me. I could turn my head or close my eyes, or stare somewhere else. Instead, the purple light was intoxicating, like a flame calling me toward it. E'ru had told me not to look. I looked at the words. And I read.