Bastial Explosion (The Rhythm of Rivalry: Book 3) (9 page)

“How do you even know where I live?” Zeti interrupted.

“Grayol told me.” Ruskir’s voice calmed as he sheathed his weapon. He sighed. “The child is completely dependent on you. I’m surprised he’s not here already, now that you’re back.”

Ruskir came forward. With her eyes avoiding him, Zeti could hear the dirt being displaced as her father found a spot just in front of her and squeezed the claws on his feet. He leaned down to match her eye level.

“Zeti, they say that you and Paramar let the Slugari escape. Is it true?”

What is this?
She’d never seen her father change his mood from anger to anything else without storming off first.
Could he actually feel guilty about leaving me to fend for myself during my shedding? He’s still never told me why.

“Paramar and I were supposed to close off one of the two perimeters,” she explained. “But we were incapable of running past the hundreds of Slugari without eating them…as any Krepp would be.” She felt childish in that moment, especially with tears surfacing. “Doe made me kill him, Father. He made me kill Paramar.”

Zeti was a grown woman. She knew this was no way to behave, even if it was in front of her father. But some side of her argued that it was justified and that Ruskir should help her feel better.
That’s what he’s supposed to do,
the voice said.

There was a greater chance Ruskir would draw his weapon and cut her than offer words of encouragement. His teeth began to grind as anger tensed the muscles in his face.

“I can’t believe it,” he muttered, turning to walk away from Zeti. He stopped near the opening to the hut. Spinning around, he said, “Are you serious or is this a joke?” It was a hopeful question, in which one answer would bring overwhelming relief while the other would devastate him.

“It’s true. But it’s not my fault.”

“Then whose fault is it!” Ruskir drew the blade again. From the way he was gripping it, Zeti wondered if he was going to throw it at her. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

“It’s Doe’s fault for giving us an order that was impossible to follow,” Zeti said, her tone pessimistic, for she knew it was hopeless.

“Zoke’s a traitor. And you’re a
kushlat.
”

Now Zeti was pointing her blade at Ruskir without even remembering drawing it.

“I’m no
kushlat
!” How could he call her that? Zeti couldn’t decide if she was going to throw her dagger at her father or drive it into his stomach. She felt herself taking a step forward.

Kushlats
were female Krepps who were too stupid and proud to ever take a male Krepp as their
seshar
. They were regarded nearly the same as traitors, outcast and spat upon. The only difference was that they weren’t publicly killed like Zoke would be if he was captured. But many of them were found dead anyway, murdered without anyone claiming to know who did it…nor anyone caring.

“You are!” Ruskir shouted. “You and Zoke have done nothing but cause me shame. Why don’t you leave like he did,
kushlat?
”

Zeti felt like she was filled with boiling water, steam clouding her vision. She’d never felt so enraged, like she couldn’t even see straight until Ruskir was lying on the dirt, bleeding. That image was all she could picture, her hands craving to make it happen.

But a surprise interrupted her as she took another step forward. Grayol ran into the hut screaming. The little Krepp jumped at Ruskir so forcefully, he managed to take her father off his feet.

“I’ll kill you for calling her that!” Grayol viciously clawed at Ruskir. It looked like he was going for his eyes.

Ruskir easily kicked Grayol off him, the little Krepp soaring a few feet before slamming into one wall of the hut. For a moment, her home threatened to topple inward. Then it appeared to hold.

Zeti knew she had to do something, for Grayol would die if she didn’t. With knife in hand, Ruskir was coming after the now terrified little Krepp. Grayol had made the first attack, even showed intent to fight Ruskir to the death. No punishment would fall upon Zeti’s father if he retaliated, even if he killed Grayol in the act. And Zeti had no doubt that that’s what Ruskir wanted to do.

He’d always hated Grayol, telling Zeti countless times to ignore him and spend her time finding a strong
seshar
.

Zeti grabbed her bow and aimed an arrow at her father. “Stop or die,” she warned.

Now standing over Grayol, Ruskir slowly looked over his shoulder at Zeti. “You would shoot father to you in the back?”

“I killed Paramar. I could easily kill you, too.”

Then everything became too silent for Zeti’s taste. It gave her time to think. But she didn’t want to hear her thoughts. She knew too well that they would just be doubts about being able to shoot him.

“First you spit at me, now you point an arrow in my direction?” Ruskir spoke spitefully. “I’ll never forgive you for this.”

“I don’t care,” she said. “I don’t want to see you ever again. Get out of here. Go back from wherever you came.”

Ruskir turned and spat, his hot saliva splattering against Grayol’s face. “Don’t think I’m done with you,” Ruskir threatened him.

Then he was gone.

Grayol started to wipe off the spit, but Zeti threw him a rag that he gladly used rather than his arm.

“I’m happy you’re back,” the young Krepp muttered. His yellow eyes avoided Zeti, looking at the displaced dirt around the hut instead.

Zeti had been gone less than a month, but Grayol looked a lot older. His teeth were longer, sharper even, and his mouth was wider to match his growing face. The two nostrils resting just above his mouth were bigger and rounder. In fact, he was taller as well. Zeti knew that she’d grown, but Grayol had grown faster, now coming up to her shoulders.

One day, he’ll be taller than me,
Zeti realized. It was an eerie thought.

Then Zeti noticed he was holding his stomach, turning away from her as if to hide his injury.

“Did father to me cut you when he kicked?” Zeti asked.

“I’m fine.” Grayol still wouldn’t look at her.

“Let me see it.” She turned him toward her, then pulled down the hand covering his wound. There were two parallel gashes, each deep enough to need treatment.

“Your skin is still so soft,” Zeti realized aloud. It was the only way the cuts could’ve been so deep.

His head lowered shamefully.

“But it’ll get tougher after your
pra durren
,” Zeti quickly added. “How old are you now?”

“Ten—
pra durren
.”

“So you might have your shedding next year if you’re early. Aren’t you happy about that?”

Grayol nodded unenthusiastically.

“Sit.” Zeti pointed at the one chair in her hut. “I’m going to fetch some water and keyfar plants to clean your wound.”

As she turned to leave, Grayol grabbed her arm. “Father to you…” He let go of her and scrunched his mouth. “I think you should tell him you made a mistake. I know you hate him right now, but every Krepp only gets one father.”

Zeti thought to slap Grayol before she remembered that he’d been without a family since she’d met him.
He believes that even a father like Ruskir would be better than none.

“I’m done with him,” Zeti said in her most confident voice. “And don’t try to convince me otherwise.”

“I understand,” Grayol muttered.

She turned to leave, but once again he stopped her. “Zeti…”

“I need to clean out your wound,” she said.

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“I don’t want him to.” Zeti sympathized with Grayol not having his own family, but she could feel anger stirring in the depths of her stomach at him pushing the issue. “So stop talking about it.”

“I meant is he going to come back for me?”

“You mean his threat to kill you?”

Grayol’s voice dropped to a murmur. “Yes.”

“He used to tell Zoke that all the time,” Zeti lied. “Father to me is too much of a coward to risk punishment for committing murder.”

Zeti figured that Grayol didn’t need to know that Ruskir was probably serious. The little Krepp wouldn’t be able to defend himself whether he knew Ruskir was coming for him or not. Zeti took that to be her responsibility now.

She set her knife on the table next to Grayol before she hurried off.

Chapter 9:

ZETI

Nearly a week had passed since Zeti had disowned her father. They’d seen each other only once since then.

Zeti caught sight of Ruskir on her way to the market. He was with Dentar, possibly the only Krepp who Zeti loathed more than Ruskir. Her father kept his eyes forward as they passed, while Dentar turned and spat in her direction.

Zeti found herself smiling.
So it looks like both have finally given up on me.

Her concerns were focused on her Slugari leaders, Doe and Haemon. Every Krepp needed a task within the army, and her task as part of the Slugari search team had ended the same day she’d killed Paramar.

Zeti visited Doe and Haemon’s quarters each day to find out what her next duty would be, but the Krepps guarding the entrance kept telling her to come back tomorrow.

“They still haven’t decided what they’re going to do with you,” one told her.

“Are they angry with me?” Zeti needed to know to decide how worried she should be.

The guard leaned in to whisper, “Who could ever tell?”

Zeti nodded to show she understood and said no more. To talk about Doe or Haemon while they weren’t there was like taking a child’s toy while he wasn’t looking. When they found out, which they always did, there would be trouble. But the massive Slugari, although sometimes behaving like Krepp children, should never be regarded as such. Their power was unmatched.

Except for Vithos,
Zeti would remind herself, often wondering what a battle would look like between the psyche of the Elf and the magic of the giant Slugari.
He’s probably back with Zoke now, the both of them with the Humans in Kyrro.

Zeti tried to imagine Zoke interacting with Humans but she couldn’t. She didn’t know enough about the weak race of hairy men and women to guess how they would behave around a Krepp who spoke their language.

Much of Zeti’s time was spent training, the bow when she was alone, the sword when she was with Grayol. She hadn’t realized that her brother had taught the little Krepp how to use the weapon, and his skill with it surprised her.

“Zoke used to train with me,” Grayol had told her one day. “He didn’t want you to know because he thought you would be upset.”

“Why would I be upset?”

“That’s what I asked, and Zoke said it was because you would tell him that he was just wasting his time.”

Zeti grumbled, realizing it was true. She never would’ve thought Grayol could become proficient enough with the weapon to make use of it. But the little Krepp was growing up fast, surprising her more each day.

“Here you are,” a woman’s voice caught Zeti by surprise. “Come, Zeti. Doe is waiting.”

She turned to find Suba grinning at her.

Zeti smiled back. “It’s been too long,” she replied before she realized what Suba had said. “Wait, you’re taking me to Doe? Why?” This was a strange task for Suba.

“I’ll tell you on the way.” Suba shook her claws at Grayol. “You’ve been behaving, right?”

He nodded urgently, his eyes widening. “Yes!”

“Good. Now be careful with that weapon.”

“I will.”

He’s too careful,
Zeti stopped herself from saying aloud. The feeling of chewing on dirt would be more tolerable than openly disagreeing with Suba, who’d been nearly a mother to her.

But being too careful really was Grayol’s biggest issue. He wouldn’t put his full strength into his attacks. He’d cut himself deeply with an errant swing of his sword, and instead of it teaching him that he could endure pain and injury, it had made him fear both.

“Doe has you collecting people for punishment now?” Zeti asked Suba fearfully.

Suba moved the black hair from the side of her pointed face to look down at Zeti. “My
jerrendi
, everything has turned to chaos since you and the others got back from the Slugari colony. Hundreds of Krepps are having their tasks switched each day, and often I’m the one who has to find them to notify them of this.” Suba hummed with discouragement. “I need someone helping me, but I dare not ask Doe or Haemon.”

Because of the shape of her face, Suba seemed as if she was always ready to smile or frown. Her nostrils were small, the holes never moving, as if she didn’t even breathe. Her eyes were on the orange side of yellow, and they seemed to always look first before her face followed.

Female Krepps had more hair on their heads than males, but Suba seemed to have the most of any Krepp Zeti knew. It was thick and long enough to completely hide her face if she bent her slender neck downward.