by Freya Pickard
in Issue 117, October 2021
Nareya stood firm, holding the sword with both hands. Her lungs burned, and her muscles screamed with exhaustion. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep. But she could not. Behind her, at the top of the rise, Star shrieked in agony.
I will protect you, she told the woman silently. I will not let them pass.
Nareya held the sword firmly, its song thrilling her blood, as she waited for their pursuers to appear.
It had been days since they had fled the burning, deserted land of Nareya’s birth. Constantly harried by creatures out of nightmare, the two women had fled south towards Quirat, and then north-west towards Eluned. Both destinations had been impossible to reach. Time and time again they had been attacked by monsters that looked like men, but whose forms fluctuated between reptile and mammal.
Star had heard of them and warned Nareya not to let the shape-shifters touch her. “That is how they reproduce.” She had whispered one noon, as they rested for a few hours. “A bite or scratch from them, and you become as they are.”
The cold horror of their situation worsened Star’s condition. Now, they were just a short ride from the borders of Zorat. Nareya could feel the wards pulsing to the southwest. Star, as normal, felt nothing, only the agony of her swollen belly. Every time they made a dash south, one or more of the changelings appeared, and drove them west once more.
Nareya couldn’t remember the last time she had slept for more than a couple of hours. None of the defense techniques she had learnt in her homeland worked against these creatures.
“Who do you think created these monsters?” She had asked during their flight.
“Sharreshilk.” Star was certain. “He had help from Vorna.”
That had shocked Nareya. For one of her tribe to pervert natural life into something so horrific, was an unforgivable blasphemy. For Star, it was worse; her lover and the father of her child had been revealed as a warper of life itself.
“Why don’t they just kill us?” Nareya wondered. “Why are they herding us? Where are they herding us?”
“These are just minions,” Star thought. “Perhaps they’re waiting for their leader to catch up.”
“And who is their leader?”
“Hrukham,” Star said shortly, her face twisting in pain.
Nareya felt overwhelmed. Hrukham was legend. No one who faced him, ever survived. No one knew what he looked like. But with Star’s labour pains increasing, Nareya had to think of a way to save her friend and the unborn child.
Nareya had let the horses loose in the dead of night, sending them southwards to lead at least some of their pursuers away. She hoped and prayed the horses would reach Zorat, before the changelings caught them. She knew better than to try and head south herself, even though the wards sang loudly. She reckoned they were about ten minutes brisk walk from the border of Zorat. But it might have been ten miles. Star was in no condition to walk briskly and could not defend herself from any attack. Her friend had insisted on staggering beside the river, despite the intensity of her labour, and, just before dawn, they’d reached the knoll.
The pale sky revealed dark rocks rising above the swift-flowing river. A body of water split around the clustered columns of stone, with just one ford on the southern side. Whether it was a natural formation, or if the Zoratti had gradually built the land up to create the ford, Nareya had no time to discover. So far, the creatures pursuing them had not been able to cross swift, deep flowing water.
As the cool light of dawn increased, Nareya had pushed Star’s distorted body up the narrow track that climbed between the rocks, to an open patch of bare earth. The dark rocks were sheer, their sides unscalable. The only path that led to the top was the one Nareya now guarded. To reach Star, Hrukham’s minions would have to go through Nareya.
Above her, Star cried out again. Nareya concentrated on the edge of the forest, before the strip of grass between it and the river. They were there, waiting to attack. Outwardly calm, she controlled her rapid breathing. Summoning the power that lay dormant within her, Nareya fed it into her weary muscles and sleep-deprived mind.
The sky brightened and colour slowly crept back into the forest. Golden light glowed on dark green leaves and red and orange blooms. And as the sun rose, birdsong faltered and a chill breeze skittered out of the east. Nareya narrowed her eyes, searching the shadows at the forest’s edge.
They slunk close to the ground, bellies in the dew, muzzles scenting her blood. There were five, all of them in a state of flux. Corded muscles, scaled bellies, wings of leather that became fish scales … They never flew, Nareya noted with detachment, they always attacked on foot.
Two sprang at her simultaneously. Curved claws and white fangs filled her vision. The sickening stench of rotting flesh hit her nostrils. Clamping down on the bile, she raised the Mathronite Blade, its metallic song filling her soul with the desire to kill. Tears blurred her vision as she swept the broadsword in an arc, decapitating both creatures. Before their twisted, leering heads had hit the ground, two more changelings attacked, leaping through fountains of black blood as the bodies of their comrades crashed to the ground.
Nareya swung the blade again, singing a single note. Both shape-shifters paused and twisted out of their attack pose. She sang another note, keeping the blade level, crouching low, ready to meet them. The shape-shifters stared at her, fear in their yellow eyes. Nareya wished she had learnt more of the Quirat war technique. But Quirat war songs depended on an Octave of singer-warriors; she was solo. She’d heard that the Zoratti sang solo in their meetings with Sharreshilk’s warriors, but how did they overcome their foes?
She sang a third note and one beast yelped, turned tail, and fled. The other growled, rejecting her invitation to turn from the darkness and to be restored in the light. She sang a fourth note as the creature jumped at her. It died as her blade plunged into its chest. There was a moment of horrible confusion as it tried to haul itself along the blade, jaws snapping, scaled limbs flailing. She shook it off, aware of two more shadows emerging from the forest. Two?
Nareya had counted five shape-shifters originally. One of them was still yelping in the distance far to the east. She concentrated on the two before her. The smaller changeling ran straight towards her, its body merging from snake to lizard to scaled bird and then all four limbs sprouted grey fur. Nareya forced out a middle C and the creature skidded to a halt. She sang again, as Star’s scream rent the air.
The changeling’s eyes narrowed and it sprang forwards, lips peeling away from ivory fangs. There was no time to sing another note. Nareya raised the blade as the shape-shifter twisted in the air, attempting to leap over her. She thrust upwards, the blade penetrating scale, sinew, feather and fur. It shrieked and fell, with a splash into the river behind her. She risked a quick glance over her shoulder to see the creature drift downstream, the water stained with dark blood. Then she turned once more to the forest.
Tiredness swept over her and the Mathronite blade felt like lead. Wearily, she forced her eyes to focus on the sixth changeling as it emerged from the forest. How had she missed it on her first count? This shape-shifter was taller than the others and strode upon two legs. Fear dried her throat and froze her mind.
Leather wings hung from his shoulders, coalescing into a cloak and then merging back into wings. Thick quadriceps rippled with corded muscle, only to be replaced with dark scales. Grey fur covered his torso that flattened out into naked skin. Nareya attempted to moisten dry lips with a tongue that suddenly felt thick. A wolf muzzle gleamed with long fangs and yellow eyes stared at her. When it spoke, a human voice came from the creature’s mouth and that chilled her more than anything else.
“Vorni tricks cannot work on me.” His voice was harsh and low.
“I know.” Nareya croaked. “You were bred to withstand my people’s power.”
The dark lips peeled back in a grimace.
“I do not use my people’s power.” She told him, noting the size of his muscles and the invisible energy that enveloped him like a cloak. He was not what she expected of a changeling. She had never heard of two-footed changelings. Was this a new breed?
Nareya sang a single note and the creature halted mid-stride. His yellow eyes narrowed as he continued towards her.
“I am not interested in you,” he growled. “I want the child.”
“Why?” Nareya reached deep inside herself and summoned the god. Feeling the strength return to her limbs, she raised the Mathronite blade.
“The Ilkhru requires the child.”
Coldness shivered down Nareya’s spine. The Ilkhru. That is what Vorna’s soldiers had called Sharreshilk. There were two names that breathed fear into Vorni hearts; Ilkhru and Hrukham. The Dark Lord and the Lord Wolf. Star had told her that Hrukham and the shape-shifters had been created by Vorna working with Sharreshilk and his Hound, which meant that this creature was…
“Hrukham!”
“I am Hrukham. And I am the last living creature you will see with your mortal eyes…”
Nareya sang a C# as fur shimmered into scales and then into naked skin. Hrukham paused momentarily. Nareya could not let him get too close to her. His arms were long, and if he got beneath her blade, he would kill her.
Star screamed again and Hrukham glanced upwards, pink tongue licking dark lips. Nareya darted forwards, slashing at his ribs. The blade pierced fur and struck bone. Hrukham snarled and leapt back. Nareya sang an F# and Hrukham shook his head, growling. Leaping at her, the changeling’s claws glittered in the rising sun’s light. She slashed upwards and sideways. Yelping, he twisted aside, falling on all fours. His skin rippled between fur, scale and skin so rapidly, that Nareya felt nauseous. He ran at her, snapping with his ivory fangs. Taking a step backwards, she slashed down, striking at a suddenly human face. Blood dripped down the long, drawn visage.
Star screamed once more as Hrukham surged towards Nareya, leathery wings flapping as his face elongated once again into a wolf’s muzzle. Singing raggedly, Nareya repeatedly slashed and hacked, dancing away from his claws and teeth. The charnel smell sickened her and her lungs burned.
Give in! Hrukham’s flat, yellow eyes told her.
I will not! You, change! She shrieked out a series of ragged notes, showing him an imaginary mirror, so he could see how evil he had become.
Darkness, fur, snapping jaws, gleaming claws, blood, sweat and then … He was gone. Nareya spun round to see him running on all fours into the forest. What had made him flee? Had the imaginary mirror worked? The sword sang quietly, streaming black with blood. Her throat was sore from forcing the notes out. Her lungs heaved, her arms shook. Star screamed again, the sound choking off in a gurgle.
Wearily sheathing the wet sword, Nareya stumbled across the ford and up the steep path to where Star lay on the blood-stained earth. She was just breathing and between her legs lay a bloodied child.
“My babe!” Star whispered, her face white and lined with pain.
Nareya wiped her sweating palms on her tunic and lifted the tiny baby. It opened its mouth and cried, screwing its face up.
“Nareya?”
The Vorni woman wordlessly placed the child in Star’s arms.
“I can’t see.” The human woman whispered.
“It’s a girl,” Nareya told her quietly. “Fully formed and she looks Human.”
Star feebly opened the neck of her tunic and the babe started to feed. Nareya checked Star, frowning at the bleeding between the woman’s legs. The Vorni was no midwife but knew in her gut that such blood loss was not good. Star’s breathing was shallow.
“Nareya?” It was barely a whisper. “I’m cold. I know I’m dying. I’m not afraid. You and the Vorni took away that fear. I just don’t want to leave my child an orphan…”
“I drove Hrukham away and killed all but one of his minions.” Nareya held Star’s hand, so clammy and cold. “I will take the child to the Zoratti. They will protect her from her father…”
Star turned her head towards Nareya. “Don’t hate Tamutta because of her father. Vorna is not wholly corrupt, and I believe that if Sharreshilk could be destroyed, Vorna could be reclaimed.”
Nareya had to place her ear to Star’s mouth to hear her friend’s last words. “Why Tamutta? Skydancer?”
Star’s eyes dimmed and their light extinguished.
“No!” Nareya felt tears spring to her own eyes and she bent over her friend’s body, feeling the heat of the risen sun touching the earth and stones around her. She did not rail against the god; she understood that the lifespan allotted to Star had come to an end. But it was painful to lose her. A Human woman, she was grieving for a Human woman.
She sat up and saw the babe still suckling. She needed to reach Zorat before Hrukham returned. Once within the wards, she could summon a Zoratti patrol and leave the babe for them to find. Then, she would return and bury Star.
Rising to her feet, Nareya walked in a tight circle around Star’s body, casting her own wards. She pulled Star’s skirts down to cover her legs, knowing she could not halt the corruption of the flesh. But she was not going to let Hrukham or his changelings defile Star’s corpse. The child was asleep at her dead mother’s breast when Nareya took her knife and cut the umbilical cord. The babe whimpered as Nareya picked her up. Sheathing the knife, the Vorni descended the path and crossed the ford. Flies were already settling on the shape-shifters’ remains.
Nareya strode swiftly south, pushing out her awareness, seeking for any threat. Nothing. Only birdsong and grazers and there, so close, were the wards, humming and singing.
The forest gave way to a wide meadow bordered by ferns and rosebay willowherb. The sun rose above the treetops as Nareya stopped in the middle of the lush sward.
“This is where I will bury your mother.” She told the sleeping babe. “And no one will know where she lies, for I will not tell anyone.”
She crossed the meadow and entered the forest once more, passing through the wards, feeling their power shiver over her skin. Finding a mossy hollow, Nareya wrapped Tamutta in her cloak and laid her gently down. Then, she rose to her feet and closed her eyes. Sending her thoughts southwards, she touched the minds of a Zorat Fist.
Nareya, last of the Vorni, she announced herself. I bring a child of a human woman; she needs a wet nurse.
Assured that the Zorat were on their way, Nareya passed through the wards once more and retraced her steps to bury her friend.
©Ocober 2021, Freya Pickard
Freya Pickard is the Author of The Kaerling series, an epic fantasy set in the strange and wonderful world of Nirunen. She writes mainly fantasy tales and creates poetry in order to rest the prose side of her brain. Her aim in life is to enchant, entertain and engage with readers through her writing. She finds her inspiration in the ocean, beautifully written books and vinyl music (particularly heavy metal and rock). Her most recent relaxation techniques to get her through lockdown include hatha yoga and painting landscapes and monsters in watercolour.