Bastial Energy (44 page)

“They weren’t traitors,” Nebre tried to correct Vithos in an obvious attempt to defend Tenred’s honor—the honor of the Krepps’ new allies. “The King of Kyrro was not a deserving leader like Doe and Haemon.”

“They didn’t agree with their leader and planned to overthrow him,” Vithos said with a slow, careful shrug. It was the most sinister shrug Zoke had ever seen. “Those sound like the actions of a traitor to me.” Vithos turned to raise an eyebrow at Nebre. “If they aren’t traitors, then I shouldn’t be thought of as one, either.”

Nebre wouldn’t return a look, staring instead at the dirt. An unnerving silence fell over them. Zoke asked a question to disrupt it. “Kyrro and Tenred have been at peace this whole time until now?”

“No other battles since then,” Nebre answered softly.

“I wonder what reason they suddenly have to fight,” Zoke said.

“There have been several generations of kings on both sides,” Vithos said. “So it seems unlikely for it to be something that happened many years ago, unless Humans are even better than us at holding on to the grudges of their dead.”

The three of them grew quiet again. It was the first time Zoke had heard Vithos refer to himself and Krepps as
us
. Zoke wondered if it was just to convince Nebre that he and Zoke weren’t a threat
. Or could Vithos really consider himself just as much as part of the tribe as Nebre?
Zoke shook his head.
No, that can’t be.

When Zoke thought of the tribe, he thought of a tight sphere pulling all the Krepps together, more so than they wished at times. He used to believe that Doe, Haemon, and Vithos shared their own smaller bubble within the sphere of the tribe. But since learning more about Vithos, Zoke realized the Elf was really within his own bubble, separate from everyone else in the tribe, including Doe and Haemon, whether he wanted to be or not.

Vithos was never part of the tribe in the way that Zoke and Nebre were, and now he’d pulled Zoke into that bubble. Together, they’d drifted further and further from the sphere, but with war starting to boil, the heat from it was likely to reach them no matter where they went. He felt that it was only a matter of time before their bubble burst.

It almost had already during their first week together. Zoke was close to leaving Vithos. He blamed Vithos for taking him away from the tribe. He’d thought that his anger would never subside, but to his surprise it did. It helped that the days with Vithos were far easier to endure than his days in the tribe. Vithos didn’t call him
gurradu
or force him to perform tasks he didn’t wish to do. The constant voice that told him to watch his back had quieted, replaced with Vithos’ good company. He felt secure with the Elf, trusting his judgment.

Although he worried for Zeti, he knew her to be strong.
She doesn’t need me to protect her anymore,
Zoke thought.
She’s a woman now and has acted as such for years already.
It wasn’t so much the time away from her that disturbed him, but the thought that he might never see her again. He could endure months, even years, as long as he had hope—be it a small chance—that they would see each other again. He knew he would never let that hope go, even if he wanted to, because doing so would be the same as letting her die, and he could never allow that.

The night had blackened in the last hour with stars taking shape in the sky. The air was warm and fresh. Zoke let out a yawn that had been sneaking up on him in the last few steps. “Let’s find a place to rest,” he suggested.

They found an agreeable spot nearby where the dirt opened into a wide area between two thick trees. Nebre made no motion to lie down until Zoke and Vithos were completely settled. Zoke was half asleep already when he heard Nebre trying to get comfortable somewhere in the distance.

Zoke wasn’t sure how long he slept. He woke with Vithos pushing on his shoulder. “I cannot stay awake.” Vithos whispered so softly it took Zoke until his yawn had finished before understanding what he’d said.

Zoke gave a grunt to acknowledge he’d heard and looked around to find Nebre. He saw him lying at the base of a tree ten yards away.
This is pointless
, he told himself, but he held his eyes open as long as he could.

Eventually, he let his body rest against the dirt again. He drifted in and out of sleep. Every so often, he gave a glance to Nebre, who was always still.

He must’ve been asleep when it happened because he never heard Nebre coming until he was already above them.

At the sound of something shifting in the dirt next to Zoke’s ear, he shot to his feet. Nebre had both hands awkwardly around his knife. He must have been startled by Zoke, for he gave Zoke a quick look, but that didn’t stop him for more than a heartbeat. He went to his knees over Vithos with the knife raised high.

“Stop!” Zoke shouted. He dove and pushed Nebre away from Vithos.

“Get off me!” Nebre yelled.

Before Zoke knew it, they had broken into a wrestle. Wild limbs were being thrown, and weight was shifting back and forth faster than insults between two Krepps before a fight. They rolled farther from Vithos, and Zoke noticed a sudden change in Nebre. He was no longer trying to get away from Zoke. Instead, he was trying to find a way to push the knife into him.

“Coward!” Nebre yelled as he forced the knife a little closer to Zoke’s stomach. “Coward, coward, coward!” Zoke had Nebre’s wrist, pushing it away from him.

Zoke drove his knee into Nebre’s side and flipped, managing to roll himself on top. He had Nebre pinned, though Nebre was still forcing the knife toward him. Vithos came over them and aimed his palm at Nebre. His struggles deceased and he went limp, letting the knife out of his grip. Zoke took it, rolling off Nebre.

Nebre scampered to his feet. “Why did you stop me, Zoke?” Nebre shouted, hopping away. “You must be a traitor to let Vithos live all this time!”

Zoke felt a deep sadness to hear the accusation from his old friend, especially with such conviction. “Nebre, there’s a lot you don’t understand.”

“I always thought I was a coward and you were brave. But you’re the coward, not me. I’m the one who fought.” Nebre thumped his chest. “I’m the one who tried to kill the Elf. You would rather be a traitor than risk your life for the tribe.” He spat, and his saliva found Zoke’s feet. “Coward!” Nebre searched his belt in a panic. “You still have the scroll. Give it back. Throw it to me.”

“We’ll deliver it,” Zoke answered, wiping his foot on the dirt. “The Humans need to know of the threat, so we’ll tell them. Get out of here. Go back to the camp.” He was surprised to hear how calm he sounded. He wasn’t mad, though, so he didn’t know how else he should sound.

Nebre ran. He was out of sight in a blink, although the sound of leaves and sticks being crushed under his weight continued for another two breaths.

“We shouldn’t have let him go.” Vithos spoke with the same calmness as Zoke. “He knows where the new camp is. We should have at least gotten that information.”

“Perhaps,” Zoke said. “But it’s too late for that now.”

“You were protecting him, weren’t you? If we didn’t let him go, you knew what we would have to do.” The Elf’s voice became loud and forced. “What
you
would have to do.”

“He doesn’t need to die.”

“No one needs to die. But many will.” Vithos lifted a thumb to his face. “I didn’t start this war, but I’m part of it, just like you.” He jabbed a finger at Zoke. “We’re going to have to make tough decisions that will determine who lives and who dies. So, you should figure out what you’re willing to do now while you still have time to think about it. What would it take for you to kill another Krepp? What would it take for you to kill Zeti? What would you trade your life for? No one wants to think about these things, but we need to. If we don’t, we risk making a mistake when it’s time to take action. And mistakes can lead to even more death.”

Zoke spat but made sure to avoid Vithos’ feet. He was frustrated but knew most of it wasn’t directed at the Elf. “If it’s so easy, what would you trade your life for, then?”

“Revenge, exposing the truth, stopping Doe and Haemon, saving someone I care about.” Vithos replied so quickly, it did seem as if he had the answer prepared. “You don’t need to know your answers now, but you’d better come up with them soon.”

Zoke waved his claws dismissively. “I already know I would never kill Zeti. Never. And she would never kill me.”

“You’re sure of this?”

“As sure as I am of the sun rising tomorrow,” Zoke said, remembering she used the same line last time he’d spoken to her.

Vithos leaned in close, staring for a breath. Suddenly, he nodded and the anger melted from his face. “It must be nice to know that about someone.”

Zoke’s frustration turned to pity. “It is.”

Vithos knelt to roll up his blanket. “You’re not a coward, you know. He’s wrong about that. It takes more courage to make decisions for yourself than to blindly follow orders.”

“So, you’re not afraid I’ll attack you as you sleep?”

“Should I be?”

Zoke shook his head. “No.”

Vithos smiled, slung his bag over his shoulder and started south.

“Where are you going?”

“To Kyrro. We’re not going to get any sleep tonight after what’s happened, so we might as well walk. Come, and I’ll tell you the story of when I asked Haemon where Krepps come from.”

“Does it have a surprise?” He was disappointed when the story of Tenred and Kyrro had no surprise. Usually the twist in Kreppen stories was fun, pleasing to discover—the exact opposite of what had just happened with Nebre. Zoke wanted a robust surprise more than anything at that moment. He craved it.

“Yes, he brought two Krepps in to demonstrate. I couldn’t have been older than eight or nine when I was forced to watch that disturbing act.”

Zoke hissed and wanted to spit. “Why would you give away the surprise?”

“No, that’s just the beginning. The surprise is still to come.” Vithos started south, waving Zoke forward.

Zoke laughed heartily from his stomach. He buckled his belt, threw the quiver over his back, and hoisted the bow onto his shoulder.

Soon they were walking toward Kyrro abreast, sharing stories.

Chapter 46: Uncaged

STEFFEN

“Come on, Steffen,” Reela said, tapping on his door. “It’s 9:30. I know you’re aching, but if you don’t hurry you’ll miss breakfast.”

Steffen jerked upright in bed. His heavy blanket slipped from his shoulders, and cold air gripped his skin. “Don’t come in!” he hollered back. “I’ll be right out.”

He slipped into clean underwear that he’d laid out the night before.

“You should consider wearing some clothes to bed,” Reela said from behind the door. “The days are getting colder.”

“I’ll consider it.” He took a folded, long-sleeve shirt from his drawer and threw it over his head.

“No, you won’t,” Reela said.

“I might.” Pants were the last thing he needed. “How did you know I’m aching?”

“You were thinking it so loud during the night, it nearly kept me up.”

Steffen pulled open the door. Reela had her arms folded but dropped them when she saw Steffen. She wore a light blue dress. It had a gold-colored stripe around the waist, outlined in silver.

“The colors of Kyrro,” Steffen commented. His curtain was shut, so the light flooding into his room came from behind her, giving a literal glow to her presence. It was a slight surprise to see her wear something so extravagant, but a pleasant surprise nonetheless. The dress looked beautiful on her, tightly fitting around the curves of her body.

She grabbed the sides of her dress and twisted playfully. “I thought it would be appropriate to show my dedication to Kyrro.” Her voice grew grave, “given the threat of battle. Are you ready to go to the dining hall?”

“I still have all my body parts, right? I feel like something may have fallen off during the night.” He spun his head left, then right, checking each arm facetiously.

Reela rolled her eyes but held a smile. “They can’t be working you chemists
that hard.”

“It’s awful, Reela. Oh, just a moment. Let me feed Leonard.”

“Leonard?” Her mouth straightened. “He’s either dead or not here.”

“What?” Steffen pushed back the curtain covering his closet. Leonard’s cage was there, but the rat wasn’t in it. Two bars had been snapped, creating a big enough hole for Steffen’s fist. “He must’ve squeezed through this. Quick, close all the doors and windows!”

“He’s not here, Steffen. I sense no other presence. He’s not in the house, unless he died in here.”

Steffen went around the room in a panic, looking for some sort of clue to tell him where Leonard went. It was the only thing he could think to do. However, after just a few quick breaths, he knew that, unless the rat had learned how to write a note, there was no hope in finding anything useful.

“Well, this is bad.”

Reela ran her finger along the broken bars of the cage. “This is steel. If he can bite through this, he can bite through bone.”

“Yes. That’s why I said, this is bad.”