The lance thrower, p.11
The Nine Births of Carnage (Cross Academy Book 3), page 11
Things were looking up.
“Where’s my sister?” Roaring asked Lady Ina.
She grinned and nodded toward his own tent; he couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. Cat Fire had taken up the habit of hanging out in his personal quarters whenever he wasn’t there—or even when he was there. She had gotten clingy after having a nightmare about a shadow sneaking into her own tent and stealing from her chest of junk.
“It’s not junk!” she had yelled at her brother when he’d laughed at her silly dream. But he had waved her off.
“You should’ve been happy it took some of your jewelry. You have way too many necklaces.”
Cat’s brown cheeks had puffed with air as she’d blown a sigh through her lips. “It didn’t take just any necklace,” she’d told him. “It took the crucifix Talon made me. Don’t you see? That means something!”
He hadn’t thought it meant anything at all. But then today he’d seen a mysterious shadow running through the woods right beside him. He still had his doubts about the darkling coming into the village to steal a crucifix—the very weapon that could destroy it by contact alone. But the situation was worth mentioning to his paranoid little sister.
Afternoon light spilled into his room as Roaring pushed through the flaps of his tent. Cat was on his mound of furs, lying on her belly with her bare feet in the air, hooked at the ankles. He stared at the bottoms of her feet as he set his rahkai on his weapons display and leaned against the desk beside it.
Cat kept her attention on the scroll she was reading as she said, “How was the hunt?”
“I killed a buck.” The bottoms of her feet were smooth and clean, like she’d never worked a day in her life. Roaring could count his scars by the dozen. “We’ll have meat for a week. Maybe a little longer if we stretch it.”
Cat looked up. “Then why don’t you seem happy?”
He folded his arms across his chest, broad as it was. He was six and a half feet tall, with legs that seemed to reach across the room, and shoulders that stretched a mile wide. The tattoos on his arms and chest looked thinner than normal, spread taut over his skin like he’d gained a little muscle since working in Wi. Still, as big as he was and as intimidating as he looked, to Cat Fire, Roaring would always be Roaring. Her gentle older brother.
He wasn’t surprised she could read him as easily as she read the scroll in her hands. His sisters knew him better than anyone in all the Four Regions, but Cat had been with him the last two months. Fox and Talon had stayed in Babel together while Roaring and Cat traveled home. The split had been difficult but having each other made the separation bearable.
“I am happy.” Roaring moved to sit beside his sister on his rustic bed.
She made room for him, sitting up with a sigh as she rolled up her scroll. “Something’s going on.”
“Do you remember the dream you had a little while ago? About the shadow sneaking into the village to steal from you?”
She nodded slowly.
“Today, I saw a demon that sort of matched that description. But I’m not sure what it means.”
“It probably doesn’t mean anything.”
He frowned. “You swore this dream was prophetic the last time we spoke.”
“It was prophetic.” She passed him the scroll before he could ask any more questions.
Roaring knew from the broken cross-shaped seal that it was from the Academy. He’d been expecting a message from them for weeks now—updates about when they would be able to send supplies.
What he got was another sort of message entirely.
It was from Cross Academy, but not from Babel itself. The letter had been written on parchment stamped with a trident in the upper right corner. Roaring had never seen the sigil before, but he knew from his studies at the Academy library that it had something to do with the North. If that wasn’t enough of a clue, the familiar name signed at the bottom of the page gave it all away.
It was from Lieutenant Diaz, sending his deepest apologies all the way from the Region of Ice.
“He’s … sorry,” Roaring muttered. He’d barely had any contact with the lieutenant, but he knew enough about him to know that apologies from him were far and few, and when he did issue them, he meant them from the bottom of his heart.
“Sorry for what?” Cat sounded as if she already knew the answer.
Roaring quickly scanned the page and when he found what he was looking for, the parchment suddenly went up in flames.
“Roaring!” Cat exclaimed with a squeal as she rolled out the way and patted at the singed fur of his blankets.
Dumbly, Roaring put out his flames and ran a hand through his thick, curly hair. “Sorry. I-I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t—” He stood. Then sat. Then he felt tears burning in the backs of his eyes and he buried his face in his large, calloused hands.
“She—she’s gone. Talon was kidnapped.”
Cat rubbed his back. “One of the Nine took her. A demon.”
Now he understood her dream, what it’d truly symbolized. But what was the point in being warned about his sister’s kidnapping if he couldn’t do anything about it? They were across the map in the Region of Smoke and Ash. Even if they had known the meaning of Cat’s dream right away, they never would have made it to this Avanté Village in time to save Talon. Roaring had never even heard of Avanté Village before.
“Sometimes God speaks to us in dreams and visions. But it isn’t so we can rally our troops and do something about the dream. It’s so that we can cling to Him in preparation of it.”
Roaring lifted his head and blinked down at his sister. He hadn’t realized he’d spoken his musings aloud, but he didn’t regret it. Cat was looking up at him shyly, unsure how he would respond to her explanation. It was then that he noticed how calm she seemed. How perfectly relaxed. Like she didn’t care.
He shifted away. “How long have you had this letter?”
“I got it this morning,” she said slowly. “Why?”
“You seem unnerved.”
“That’s because I know you’ll get her back.”
“Me?” He almost choked on the word.
“Yes, you. Who else?”
“Cat…” He shook his head. “How am I supposed to get Talon back?”
“Well, if you hadn’t burned up the letter, you would know that she was taken from Avanté Village—”
“I do know that.”
“And the Nine has been pushing North since then.”
“I know that too.”
“Lieutenant Diaz thinks he may be able to find the Nine’s hideout.”
“That was in the letter.”
“Yes!” she exclaimed. “So you know what you need to do then!”
“No, I don’t.”
“Roaring—”
“Cat,” he cut her off. “I can’t just run off to the North to team up with Lieutenant Diaz.”
She stood from the bed, eyebrows furrowed and pouty lips frowning. “Why not?”
“Because I am the Grand Chief of Wi. I’m in the middle of the biggest project of my life—the future of our village rests on my shoulders.”
“Talon’s future rests on your shoulders!” she shouted.
He stood, tried to reach for her, but she jerked back from his grasp. “She’s our sister,” she hissed.
“You think I don’t know that?”
“I think you don’t care.”
His voice was low, a warning clear in his tone. “Don’t say that.”
“You’re choosing Wi over Talon.”
“Don’t you dare,” Roaring growled, steam rising from his body. The temperature in the room seemed to rise ten degrees, like a furnace had been lit. “You know I would do anything for my sisters. Every one of them.”
“Then why aren’t you going after her?” Cat’s shoulders dropped as she succumbed to her tears, the last of her anger wilting in the storm of her grief. “Why won’t you bring her back?”
“I…” he could hardly look at his heartbroken little sister, “I have a duty.”
Cat scoffed. He wanted to scoff as well. The words sounded so pathetic as they echoed around the room. He used to say his duty was to his family, especially when they were living in a foreign city with strange people. But that was before he’d moved back home as the Grand Chief of Wi. Now, his duty was greater, his responsibility almost more than he could handle.
Roaring simply didn’t have the luxury of packing up and tromping off on a rescue mission. Not with Wi in the middle of restoration and the team in desperate need of food and supplies. And while he was satisfied with Cat finding meaning to her prophetic dream, there was still a phantom somewhere in the woods beyond Wall Yamina.
Something wasn’t right.
Maybe it was connected to Talon and what’d happened in Avanté Village. Maybe it had something to do with the Nine growing more powerful, tipping the balance of Light and Dark.
Only time would tell.
“There’s a lot at stake here,” Roaring tried reasoning with his sister, but she hugged herself and shook her head like she didn’t want to listen anymore. He couldn’t hold it against her. Talon was their sister, and after losing their parents and then being separated for the first time like this, hearing about her kidnapping was hard.
A thought struck him, and he almost didn’t want to ask his question. “Do the others know?”
To his relief, Cat shook her head again, wiping at her nose with the sleeve of her tunic. “I haven’t told anyone yet. Just you.”
He wanted to leave it at that. Forget he’d ever gotten the letter and just pray that God would provide Lieutenant Diaz with a way to rescue his sister in his stead. He had burned up the scroll, after all. It wouldn’t be too difficult to keep the information from spreading.
Roaring eyed his sister. He doubted she would keep the news to herself if this conversation didn’t end peacefully. The last thing he needed was Cat getting the council all worked up.
“We’ll have a meeting with the others, see what they think,” he offered. He already knew what they would think about the situation. The council had been angry at his decision to join the Academy for training back in Babel. They’d even accused him of turning his back on Wi—and that’d been when he was just the acting Grand Chief.
The council wanted him here in the village more than even he wanted to be there. Leaving would not be their suggestion at all, but as Roaring watched hope weave its way back onto Cat’s face through the smile she surrendered, he knew the meeting would be enough to placate her for the moment.
He would deal with the emotional backlash when they denied her request for a rescue mission later. For now, all he could do was hope for the best and focus his attention on the feast happening tonight. Anything to keep his mind off his beloved missing sister.
Contrary to what Cat believed, he did care about Talon. She had been his favorite amongst his three siblings, the only one who shared the burden of his secret back when his sundancing had been a dark omen hanging over his head. She had been his best friend and his confidant. She had been the one to place the Flaming Veil upon his head.
And now she was gone.
It destroyed him to know that he was two Regions away and powerless to help her, despite all the strength he truly possessed. It nearly cleaved his heart in two thinking of how Fox Fire was handling things all alone in the North. But he had been right earlier—he had a duty to uphold. He had a responsibility to the village. He hoped Talon would forgive him for it.
11
KI
BAM! The front door whacked against the wall so hard, the pottery on the small table beside it rocked and fell onto the floor.
Zuriel didn’t care.
He thought Hosenké had been kidding when he told him they were having rabbit for dinner. And then he saw Seganamé carrying the critters into the cabin. He didn’t want to believe it. Refused to believe. But as he stomped his way into the kitchen, he knew he couldn’t deny the truth any longer.
Seganamé stood at the counter, one dead rabbit on the chopping board, another in his hands. It was still alive, its eyes closed and its fluffy cottontail bouncing as the tall man rubbed its chin.
For a moment, Zuriel was caught off guard. He didn’t know which to respond to first, the dead rabbit which scared him. Or the living one he could possibly save.
He shook his head. He shouldn’t have to save the rabbit. It wasn’t right for it to die just because they were hungry. It wasn’t right that Seganamé would be the one to kill it—that he’d already killed one.
Killing wasn’t something Seganamé did. It wasn’t a part of him. Not the gentle man who told him stories before bed and wrapped his hands before training. No … killing little bunnies was something Hosenké would do. He’d gotten meaner over the years, especially since his fourteenth birthday last week. Seganamé had insisted they all celebrate because Hosenké was the oldest. Whatever that was supposed to mean.
Zuri even had to get him a gift and help Seganamé bake the cake. He got him a razor from the market, nice and shiny and free of rust. It cost him every coin he’d saved from his allowance, and had earned a slightly appreciative smile from the snarky young lad. He had exactly one black hair on his chin and thought himself a man now. At least that’s what Zuri overheard him telling Tara. She had only giggled and then passed him her birthday present—a white ribbon she’d made herself. He used it to tie his hair back, which had gotten long enough to brush his collarbone now.
Even so, his razor and his ribbon didn’t make Hosenké any nicer. Now that he was older, he was also bigger, and stronger. Strong enough and mean enough to be a rabbit killer.
But not Seganamé. Zuriel balled his hands into fists as he watched his master pet the rabbit. He isn’t a killer.
And yet…
Zuriel couldn’t ignore the dead bunny on the counter, not any more than he could ignore the welcoming smile on Seganamé’s face. For the first time in his nine years on this earth, the sight of his smile made the young boy angry.
“Is it true?” he yelled at his master.
Seganamé’s smile vanished. “Welcome home, Zuri. It’s nice to see you too.”
“It’s not nice to see you!” He stomped his sandaled foot.
“You will calm your tone when you speak to me.” Seganamé’s eyes narrowed. “Or you won’t be speaking for the rest of the night.”
Zuriel swallowed. He knew his master was serious. He’d seen Seganamé issue punishments to Hosenké more times than he could count. Sometimes it was the strap, sometimes he made the teenager run laps around the cabin until his feet bled. And the last time Hosenké mouthed off, Seganamé whispered something and sealed his mouth shut for two days.
The boy couldn’t even eat.
Zuri had been happy not to hear Hosenké’s annoying voice with his rude remarks and constant teasing. But he couldn’t ignore the fear that’d settled into his heart as he realized just how stern his master could be.
But … Hosenké is such a bully. He’s deserved every single punishment he’s gotten, Zuri told himself. After all, Seganamé had never hurt him before. Had never even raised a hand at him. But Zuri wasn’t about to test him now.
His nostrils flared as he muttered, “I’m sorry.”
“What are you upset about?” Seganamé asked calmly.
“Hosenké told me you’re going to cook the bunnies for dinner.”
He nodded, still petting the living one. “Roasted rabbit.”
“No…” his voice wobbled. “Please…”
“Where did we get these rabbits, Zuri?” Seganamé asked.
He sniffled. “From the woods.”
“And how did we get them?”
“We caught them in snares.”
“Exactly.”
“But I thought—”
“That we were collecting pets?” Seganamé turned to face him fully. “We don’t need a pet, Zuri. We need food.”
“We have chickens!”
“Is it reasonable to kill a chicken but not a bunny?”
The boy blinked. “I—but the bunny… I don’t know!” He crossed his arms, petulant and angry.
“We live on our own out here, Zuri. We eat whatever we find, no matter how cute it is. Do you know why?”
Zuri shook his head and dropped his teary gaze to the floor.
“Because we must survive,” Seganamé explained. He knelt and tilted Zuri’s chin with his free hand. The boy could barely see him through his unshed tears, but he felt the warmth of the bunny’s fur in his hands as Seganamé passed him the small animal.
“Understand?” his master asked.
Zuri rubbed the bunny, enjoying the kisses he felt on his palm as it sniffed and licked him. “I guess.”
“Good.” Seganamé stood and ruffled his hair. “Now kill it.”
Zuri snapped his head up. “Wha—What?”
“Kill the rabbit. And skin it once you’re finished.”
He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, I can’t!” he yelled.
Seganamé sighed. “You’ve got to be stronger than this, Zuri.”
That made him angry. He was strong. Maybe not strong enough to beat Hosenké in their training fights, maybe not strong enough to carry as much firewood as Tara, but he could run faster than any of the boys in the nearby village. And he knew he was stronger than any of them—they would never survive Seganamé’s tough training. Plus, he had survived the darkling attack on his village four years ago.
Zuriel was only nine, a naïve little boy, but he wasn’t weak.
“Killing things doesn’t make me strong,” he argued.
“It can.”
“Only if you’re a demon!” He glared at his master. “Hosenké was right! You are a darkling!”
Seganamé’s face darkened. “We’ve talked about this, Zuri.”
