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3.2. Blood Tells the Tale
🕑 Added 2022-05-27 17:12:14 +0000 UTCTell us what happened, we said.
Bihei began to speak, and the memories of the night’s events arose within her.
###
She slept, but none of it was easy. Instead, it was a restless thing suffused with worry. Bihei tossed and turned—her dreams full of giant owls carrying young Eight away into the darkness. The bright spark that was his life disappeared, and without him to defend the longhouse, the owls came for Billisha and Aluali. She was left alone. Again. Just her and the crushing weight of her loss.
Bihei woke to the sound of a bell ringing, an alarm. Her eyes shot open, and she moved quickly out of bed to get the stool that would let her reach the weapons in the storage area under the longhouse’s roof. Her eyes moved, almost without her volition to check on the children, but they were already starting to get dressed.
The bell rang five times, stopped, and rang five times again. Bihei counted to be sure, but the pattern held. She understood, then, that a beast had gotten inside the walls.
Most of the hunters were away on a night hunt—only Peng’s team was present in the village. They were Borba’s old team, and were still down a member waiting until after the Long Dark to recruit an apprentice. It’d be up to them and the Dog Rider to handle whatever it was.
Still, there were rules to follow, and five bells meant that, once she’d seen the children dressed and armed, she lit a torch from the hearth fire and stepped outside with her own militia spear in hand.
The night was a brisk one, and goosebumps rose all along her arms. A light breeze carried with it the scent of rich, wet earth. Normally, it was a smell she relished. Not as good as cotton or wool, but she was villager enough to recognize good soil.
It was only then, when she’d had a moment to think, that she’d remembered the portion of Yuki inside her. How strange it was to have grown so accustomed to such a thing that she’d forgotten their presence. They were so quiet most times, only coming alive when Yuki wanted to speak with her. Apparently, the uekisheile within her wasn’t very smart on their own, only able to follow simple instructions.
Bihei debated using the uekisheile to contact Eight to let him know about the alarm, but she worried it would disturb his hunt. Besides, there was nothing he could from where he was out in the wilderness.
So, she held her spear tightly and waited, keeping watch as she was supposed to for anything out of the ordinary. As she did, torches lit the doors of the nearby longhouses, and her neighbors stepped outside, looking just as fearful and worried as she.
Time passed, and the bell continued to ring. Yelling could be heard in the distance—the sound of people being organized into search parties. Old Man Wahashtei hobbled over to ask about what Bihei knew of the situation, but she had nothing for him, and he left muttering under his breath.
Some people, she thought, expect too much from Eight’s family.
Moments later, Musa rode past on Jesei, followed by a handful of villagers to support them. Musa pointed toward her, and made the signal to follow, which wasn’t right; it was right at all. There were children in her longhouse, and if she left, there’d be no other adults to protect them.
But an order from a land soldier was an order, and there was nothing Bihei could do about it. She quickly opened the door, and instructed the children to head over to Wahashtei’s family to stay in their longhouse until she came back.
Like good children, Billisha and Aluali had already embraced Meliune’s Blessing, and they did as they were told. Then, Bihei ran to catch up to the other villagers following the Dog and Rider.
All of them carried spears, and no few had other weapons too—clubs, knives, and even the odd sword. As for Bihei, she had one of Eight’s hunting knives in a scabbard hanging from her belt. He’d left it in the longhouse for her in the off chance she’d one day need it, and she was glad he had. She’d kept it close ever since the celebration at the end of the King of the Forest’s hunt.
Bihei nodded to the other villagers, and they quietly greeted her back. Then, it was just a matter of following Jesei and keeping her eyes and ears open for trouble. They methodically searched the streets between the longhouses, and each of the plazas in between. In the distance, she caught sight of others bearing torches in other areas.
They didn’t find anything unusual—not until they reached the homes butting up against Voorhei’s main plaza.
The area was lit by candlestones embedded in the pyramid’s steps. Not all were active—that would’ve been a waste of the village’s mana, but enough to make sure nothing approached the entrance at the top. More importantly, a crowd of torch-bearing villagers had gathered around Ghitha’s house.
The light revealed the Village Head and the Reeve, and... Dwilla was gesturing angrily at Koda. Her voice carried across the stone plaza. “This is your fault. One of your lodges is responsible.”
“We can’t say what happened until we know more. In the meantime, we have to—” Koda’s voice was harder to hear, and the rest was lost to the murmuring of the people beside Bihei.
Musa rode ahead to, no doubt, report to Dwilla and support her in whatever claim she was making against Koda. Bihei wanted to know what it was too, and she rushed forward along with everyone else, but then she smelled the unmistakable, acrid scent of vomit.
There were villagers clustered around the entrance to Ghitha’s stable, and several leaned against the nearby walls as if recovering. She drifted in that direction, drawn by dread, because only one thing lived in the stable: Borba. And the closer she got, the more the smell of vomit was overwhelmed by the scent of blood and raw meat.
Inside was a slaughterhouse. No, it was worse. A butcher would treat his animals with more care, with more respect. This was like a crazed animal had been let loose inside the stable, and four people—four hunters, what was left of Borba’s old team—had been torn apart.
Bihei’s hands shook. One was barely able to hold the spear, while the other covered her mouth in shock. Yuki, she thought, and she felt a warmth in response. It spread through her heart like a heated stone added to her bed on a cold winter night.
She clung to that warmth, and said, “It’s Borba. He’s escaped.”
###
We directed the portion of ourselves inside Bihei to extend tendrils through her scalp, but the only significant source of qi we sensed in the area was the Dog and Rider pair. So, we cast Camouflage, and exposed more of ourselves to the air.
There, that scent! Can you bring us closer?
You want me to go inside? Bihei asked, horrified.
If you can, please.
Bihei took a deep breath, and we felt her courage gather. She brought to mind the children, and their image gave her the strength to step forward. Once. Twice. Thrice. Until she stood in the pooling blood inside the stable. We heard the villagers around her, questioning and anxious, but all our senses were focused on the scent of hungering, rusty-red qi.
It was Borba, and not the starved version of the hunter. He’d somehow fed, and used the qi he’d gained from it to kill. There were traces of his Siphon ability on the wounds left on the bodies.
That’s enough, thank you. Now head back to the to make sure the children are safe. Stay with them at Wahashtei’s place.
Are we in danger? Bihei asked, as the terror she felt rolled through her in waves.
Borba had visited her long house once—interested in how Ollie/Eight was able to manipulate-maintain-withstand a relatively large number of talents—and while once didn’t make a pattern, it could the start of one.
Not necessarily, we replied, but we’d also rather not take the chance. Borba is unstable at the best of times. There’s no knowing what he’ll do.
Bihei nodded, and backed out of the room, her attention already shifting toward how to slip away from the crowd.
Yuki will stay with you, and Eight will rush back as quickly as possible, along with the hunters.
Our consciousness split, and I was back Ikfael’s shrine—the quiet rustling of the hunters jarring in comparison to the rush of events in Voorhei. I’d only been mentally away for a few minutes, and Kesa and Mumu were still consulting with Uncle Salle. The others were settling in to catch some sleep.
Let me know immediately if anything happens.
Of course, Yuki said. We’ll defend the children and Bihei with our life if necessary.
I nodded, understanding completely the truth of that statement. It was fundamental to who Yuki and I were, both individually and together. That settled, my mind immediately shot ahead to considering how to get back to the village as quickly and with as many hunters as possible.
I jogged over to Mumu, and she turned my way. “Something’s happened,” I signed, out of view of anyone else. “There’s danger back at Voorhei, and I need to talk to you and Kesa alone.”
Her eyebrows shot up, but Mumu was already moving toward the gate, as was I.
“Excuse me, Salle. I’m sorry, but something’s come up. Kesa, with me.”
I heard Uncle Salle ask if everything was all right, but didn’t catch what was said in response. I was on other side of the gate by then, joined by Mumu and Kesa only seconds later.
I shared what I’d learned, and it helped that the two hunters knew about Yuki and what they were capable of; they didn’t waste time questioning the veracity of what I told them. The shock and dismay they felt were quickly suppressed—I could literally see the emotions being stuffed deeper into their spirits—and gave way to determination.
Mumu took a breath, and turned to Kesa. “Who? All or just the night capable?”
Kesa must’ve known what she meant, because she responded: “The hunters with Night Eyes first, and me too of course; my Pathfinder will let me keep up with you. The others will follow after more slowly.”
Mumu nodded, and said, “Make it happen. We’ll move as soon as everyone’s gathered.”
###
We ran through the night, the trees and bushes blurring past—a string of hunters slipping through the forest with more speed than sense. The spirits turned to watch us fly past, but these people were all experienced woodsmen. Even when rushing, they respected the forest, and the spirits were only curious, not disturbed.
We went as quickly as we could. Everyone present—Mumu, Kesa, Ben, Haol, and me—we’d seen what Borba was able to do against the kalihchi bear, and in the season since, his abilities had only gotten stronger.
He’d been let loose for a handful of difficult hunts, and proved himself useful—proven himself dangerous. As his control over his abilities increased, his mind slid further and further out of his grasp.
There was a reason for the Hunter’s Lodge to keep him qi-starved. I didn’t like it, not at all, but given the danger Borba posed, I understood the why of it. The last time I’d looked at him with my Status camera, it’d read:
Borba the Murderer (Human, Dusk)
- Talents: Hard-Working, Lean, Enduring, Unwavering Rage, Siphon, Hungry
- Nascent: A Predator’s Cunning
His Rage had evolved over time into Unwavering Rage, and his nascent talent had revealed itself after I’d witnessed him trying to wheedle loosened restrictions from his former teammates. I’d warned them that he was being manipulative—that he would use the relationship they‘d once had against them—and I’d thought they listened. Yet, they clearly hadn’t.
The Glen was only about four miles from Voorhei, and the first half was mostly downhill. At the pace we were going, it was a miracle no one turned an ankle or broke anything. Not that it would’ve slowed us down too much. Everyone present, except for Kesa, knew the Healing Water spell. Still, a dim part of my mind recognized the level of skill being demonstrated.
I pinged Yuki with my qi. Everything all right?
Snow is leading the remaining hunters away from Ikfael’s shrine now. We’re having to translate some of their words for her, but they’re trusting her to lead the way. More importantly, Bihei and the children are safely hidden away. People are rushing about outside, so the situation doesn’t appear to be resolved.
Hang on. We’re making good time, and will be there shortly.
###
Patches of moonlight drifted across the fields surrounding Voorhei, mimicking the movements of the clouds above. The village itself sat atop a hill in the distance, illuminated by the moon and the flickering of torches inside its walls. What stood out most to me, though, were the pale forms of ghost dogs. There were more visible than usual, and they ran through the area in packs, agitated.
We’d just reached the boundary separating the forest from the fields, and I slowed down to take in what I was seeing. The other hunters instantly matched my pace. All of them reached for their weapons.
Kesa had been running beside me, and she whispered, “Do you see something, Little Pot?”
“The ghost dogs are disturbed,” I said.
I heard the sounds of weapons being brought to the ready. Kesa’s voice was flat when she asked, “Is Borba here? Point us to him.”
I didn’t see anyone attempting to hide, just the ghosts who by then had noticed my presence. Each of them was taller than me, and thickset—bred for brawling with the monsters of this world. Several came running and barked to get my attention.
Their voices couldn’t get past Tenna’s Gift, the boundary protecting the living from the dead, but I could almost feel the shield vibrating from the intensity of it. Not that there was much of one left around me. My version of Tenna’s Gift had healed in the aftermath of fighting the kalihchi bear, but it was as thin as the film around a soap bubble.
“I don’t see Borba,” I said, “but it looks like the ghosts need us to follow them.”
The hunters glanced at each other before Mumu said, “Lead the way. We’ll put our trust in Voorhei’s defenders.”
I nodded, and gestured the word for ‘go’ to the dogs. I’d seen Musa use it with Jesei, and it seemed simple enough that it might get past Tenna’s Gift. I’d hoped so anyway, and it must’ve worked, because for a moment the dogs froze in surprise. Then, they began to yelp and leap, and took off running toward the village.
They ran flat out, and I had to use Dog’s Agility to keep up. The other hunters cast their own spells to match us, all except for Kesa who couldn’t use magic. She waved us on, and yelled, “Keep going! I’ll catch up.”
The hunters and I blurred through the fields, tacking to follow the paths in between. There were still crops in need of harvesting, and we weren’t willing to ruin someone’s livelihood in order to save a few seconds. Corn, peppers, and late-growing tomatoes—they all flashed past as we threaded our way toward the village’s west gate, which was closed for the night, but that didn’t stop the dogs. They ran right through.
The wall surrounding Voorhei was twenty-feet tall and assembled from a jumble of stones fused together by an Earth-Touched family. Every shape and size were represented, making the wall look cartoonish, but it was solid and... easy for a hunter to climb.
I leapt and so did the hunters behind me; we must’ve looked like fleas hopping and clinging to the wall. Then we climbed, the enhanced speed powering our limbs, and within moments we crested the top. The area above the wall couldn’t be called a battlement, it was more like a ledge where villagers could stand, but it gave us a place from which to visually search the village.
The militia had reached the point where they were going from longhouse to longhouse, looking inside each. Clusters of torches marked the areas where they were. Meanwhile, the ghost dogs had split into two groups: one headed toward Ghitha’s place, while the other ran straight toward an unassuming longhouse northwest of the pyramid, about midway to the wall surrounding the village. The dogs circled the house, and several looked like they were baying.
My stomach sank. “It’s Inleio’s house, as well as the stable.”
The hunters around me paused as the words registered, then we all dashed for the stairs down to the ground. We rushed through the village paths, ignoring of the calls of the villagers guarding their homes. As we ran, my heart felt like it was beating a thousand times a minute, and a panic started to build inside me.
In just moments, the time in between a blur, we rounded a corner, and I spotted what was supposed to be a young man leaning with his spear against the longhouse door. He was Inleio’s nephew—a nice enough boy; we’d met a couple of times. He should’ve been surrounded by the family’s other adults, though, unless they’d been all pulled away to help with the search parties.
My insides twisted when I noticed his spirit was missing from his body, and when I ran toward him, he didn’t react. Then the wind shifted, and I smelled the coppery-iron tang of blood.
Error
Not a valid talent vessel.
I leapt a low wall surrounding the house’s front garden, and moved to ease him to the side. The other hunters gasped, as they realized he was dead. His throat had been slashed. Mumu slammed the longhouse door open, and the scent of blood and raw meat billowed out in a wave.
“No!” she yelled, rushing inside.
“Dear gods,” Kesa said.
My hand shook as I closed the nephew’s eyes. “Be easy,” I whispered, “and let this life not keep you. Move on, and find peace.”
I knew—knew—what I would find inside the longhouse, and so I held back a moment to gather my courage, to clench my hands, and to close my spirit eyes. Then I stood and went to the door.
It was as I’d feared. Inleio’s family was dead—all six including the nephew—and the stink of Borba’s rusty-red qi was all over them. The bodies almost didn’t look real, like they were props for a horror movie instead, and the longhouse interior could’ve been the set, the blood covering the floor just a mixture of red food coloring, ketchup, and oil.
Except the smell gave it away; there wasn’t anything it could be other than death.
Anger, anguish, disgust—the emotions blocked my throat, and I had to shove them down hard to keep them from choking me. The situation demanded I distance myself from what I was seeing, to register the details but not fully recognize the losses that came with them. Otherwise, I’d be useless for what came next.
I entered the longhouse almost as if I was sleepwalking, and I let my eyes rove over the scene. Blood told the tale:
The first couple of bodies were still in bed, their blankets soaked red, so Borba must’ve snuck in before the alarm had been rung, while the family still slept. A smear showed where he’d leapt over the bed to get to... Inleio.
The first killings must’ve awoken him. He’d even managed to grab a knife—there was blood along its edge—but Borba overpowered him. Inleio had lost so much in the fight against the kalihchi bear, and Borba would’ve fed on the qi of six people by then. The result was evident: Inleio had been stabbed multiple times.
People must’ve started moving after that, but Borba would’ve been fast, as well as strong. Every other body after Inleio’s showed evidence of their throats slashed, their lives spraying onto the walls and furniture. Borba would’ve wanted to keep them from yelling, no doubt.
After the last person fell, footsteps in the blood circled back to Inleio. I counted punctures on the body; there were twenty-three in total. And then Borba left through the front door, dragging the nephew’s body with him. He must’ve known the alarm would ring eventually.
The other hunters glared at the scene, their breaths coming fast and short. Mumu turned to me, and I saw such a ferocity in her eyes. “Tell me. Was it Borba?”
The lingering scent of his qi confirmed it.
“Yes,” I said.
“And what of the ghosts?”
As soon as I’d seen the dead nephew, I’d known this moment was coming. I took a shuddering breath, gestured to say, “One moment,” and reopened my spirit eyes.
Inleio was there, because of course he was; the master hunter wasn’t someone who would go easily into death. He stood in the center of the longhouse, appearing as he must’ve when he was young, alive and vibrant.
He'd clearly been waiting, because he knelt beside me as soon as I recognized him. He gestured in Signed Diaksh, but Tenna’s Gift interfered and the meaning was lost. So, I held up a hand to tell him to wait; the gesture was simple enough to be recognized. Then, I looked around and saw only the dogs gazing expectantly at me.
Their need to have me follow had diminished, which likely meant Borba wasn’t in the village anymore. There didn’t appear to be any other ghosts either, so what I planned to do next should be safe.
I pulled my favorite hunting knife, the one I’d found after fighting Woldec’s zombie, and started infusing it with spirit mana. Then, when I felt the mana click, I used the knife to gently poke the shield created by Tenna’s Gift where it was thinnest: the area right in front of the starburst scar on my belly. With a hiss, the shield parted, and when I withdrew my knife, it left behind a small hole.
“Can you hear me?” I asked.
The dogs barked; they’d seen me pull this trick before. Inleio, on the other hand, fell back in surprise.
“Little Pot?”
I licked my lips, and my voice felt thick when I said, “Yes, it’s me. I—I’m sorry about what happened here. I need to ask, though. Is Borba nearby? I mean, I don’t think so, but we should make sure, just in case. It would be stupid to endanger anyone through negligence. Oh, I’m rambling.”
Inleio’s eyes were red, like every other ghost I’d met in this world. They were wide open, shocked at first, and then they steadied. “No, Borba has fled from Voorhei. I followed him to the village’s eastern boundary, but this form—” he gestured to his ghostly body, “seems to be tied to the village, and I was not able to track him beyond it.”
“He was injured, right? There’ll be a blood trail.”
Inleio grimaced. “As I’d died, he pulled my qi from me, and qi has a memory of its own. The longer and more frequently a spell is cast, the more its patterns become a part of the qi. This would’ve been a lesson you’d learn as journeyman hunter, but the knowledge is necessary now: there’s a chance Borba is able to use Nature’s Spring, at least while he has access to my qi. Maybe even after that. Recall that this is the second time he’s taken from me; the first was during the hunt for the King.”
“Gods, that means that as long as Borba has access to qi, he can cast—”
“Bear’s Strength, Dog’s Agility, Iron Heart, Spiral Pierce, Nature’s Spring, and Body Burner. Not that he’d likely use the last. There’s not much left of his body. He only has what he steals.”
“What a mess. A terrible, horrible mess.”
“I always knew I would die to a monster; I just didn’t think it would be one of my own making.” Inleio shook his head, and sadness wafted from him. “I stand by my decisions. They were the right ones to make, but ah... my poor family, they’ve always borne the burden of my responsibilities along with me.”
“Where are they? I can at least help them move on.”
“I told them to go on ahead, and that I’d follow when I was ready. I knew you’d come, you see. That you’d use your eyes. I hoped to convey a warning in spite of Tenna’s Gift. Now I understand that I was naïve. For how long have you been able to speak with the dead?”
I suddenly felt like I’d been caught cheating by a teacher. It was so incongruous to the grisly setting; I wasn’t sure how to respond. All I could do was speak plainly: “Not long, only since the end of summer. Mumu and Kesa know, but they advised I not tell anyone.”
According to the lodge’s leaders, speaking to the dead wasn’t taboo, but that was only because it seemed unnecessary. Tenna’s Gift was supposed to preclude it. Yet, I was technically contradicting a god, so we all decided to limit the number of people who knew. That meant Ikfael, Mumu, and Kesa. Well, that group now included Haol and Ben, since they were present and watching.
I tried not to pay too much attention to the fact that Kesa had caught up to us and was urgently speaking to them about keeping the secret. Sometimes I wondered if my nickname ought to have been Little Pot of Secrets.
Inleio stared at me a moment, before saying, “I understand. It makes sense that you didn’t tell me, but I find it is... harder letting go of the responsibility than I expected. Still, this is good. I can explain to you what you should do next.”
“Talk to the ghosts of Peng’s team, I’d imagine. Assuming they’re still around.”
“Little Eight, do not think you can chew rocks just because you can read a few tracks. Er... speak to the dead.”
My heart jumped; the line was so achingly familiar. I took a breath and put on a brave smile. “Yes, you’re right of course. Please continue.”
“Peng and his team did not linger. They were always good at doing what they were supposed to, and each of them has departed this world. No, you should keep your spirit eyes open, so that I can warn you if Borba returns.”
“So, you’d know if he came back?”
Inleio’s eyes sharpened. “Oh yes.”
The giant dogs around us began to bark in their eagerness to also defend the village. I nodded at them, and reached out to pat a few of the massive heads to try and get them to calm down. “Good boys and girls. Good dogs.”
They didn’t feel solid, but there was definitely pressure under my palms. I also seemed to have caught Inleio by surprise again, because he blinked at the sight of me petting the ghost dogs.
“So Borba is out in the wilderness,” I said, trying not to get distracted.
“Yes, for now,” Inleio said, “but he may come back to continue his revenge, or he may head to Voorhoos to direct his rage there. My understanding is that his home village was not a happy place for him.”
“I suppose the odds of him staying in the woods is small.”
“Borba possess a bottomless hunger. It’s possible the wilderness will fill his need for qi and quell his rage, but I do not think so. The man... the monster I created will always be looking for more.”
I hesitated before asking my next question: “You plan on sticking around, then?”
“Yes, I will stay,” Inleio said, straightening up.
“Is that wise?” I asked. “There’s danger when ghosts are too attached to life. The dogs seem to be all right, but people are complicated.”
“Little Pot, I am too tired to—what is the word you like to use—crave either life or revenge. I only wish to see the last of my mistakes mended.”
“Oh, that’s probably okay, at least for a while.”
Inleio snorted. “I’m glad you approve. Now,” he said, as if settling down to do business, “I have advice for both Mumu and Kesa. Ah, Haol and Ben are here too; I can also provide them with pointers. First—”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Excuse me, what?”
I took a breath and firmed my will. “There’s no way I’m going to do anything that strengthens your connection to the living. I’m willing to pass along some last words, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be your messenger body, and I certainly won’t be what chains you to life.”
Inleio stared at me, and I saw his spirit roiling under the surface.
So, I continued: “We’ll use your help with Borba—I know you won’t be able to leave with that still hanging over the village—but no more than that. The responsibilities are yours no longer. Put them down. Put them down. Put them down.”
“I... see.” Inleio glanced down at his pale and transparent hands. “Yes, I believe I do.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.”
“The Way, is it?” Inleio shook his head and chuckled.
I couldn’t imagine how he could laugh, surrounded as he was by his dead family, but something in him must’ve shifted, because his spirit lightened, even if it was just a touch. Whatever he was thinking, though, it was too complicated for me to perceive with my eyes.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“You have this habit, Little Pot, of questioning after the obvious. Of course I’m not ‘all right.’ But, no, it’s not my place to instruct you, not anymore.” Inleio turned his gaze toward the other hunters in the longhouse. They all watched intently as I—in their eyes—talked to the air. They didn’t see Inleio stepping toward Mumu and cupping her cheek with his palm. “Voorhei’s hunters are mine no longer, but I know the village is in good hands. Tell them for me, Eight, tell them I believe in their sharp spears and swift arrows. That I leave the village in their good hands.”
He’d caught me by surprise at the end, and I choked up and had to wait a bit before I could talk. In the meantime, the hole in Tenna’s Gift had healed shut. Inleio just nodded to show that he’d understood what that meant.
“Little Pot? What have you learned?” Mumu’s eyes were just as hard as before, but now that I had my spirit eyes open, I saw the lostness hidden behind them.
I started sharing everything Inleio had told me, and couldn't help thinking, This isn’t going to be easy.
Comments
3seed
This wasn't an easy chapter to write. Perhaps I bit off more than I could chew, but there was a lot convey. I hope I did it (and the characters) justice. The chapter is also 5,200 words, which is long for me.
