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Chapter Twenty

Somewhere in the Amazon Jungle

Yara was starting to get desperate. She had been searching for the sacred crops for hours. The crescent moon hung low in the sky which was no longer as dark as night. Soon the sun would come up, the birds would start their morning serenade, and Yara would have to call it quits and return to New York City without the special herbs. She was running out of time and out of energy. She hadn’t eaten or rested in over 24 hours, and on top of that she was quite certain that faithful Poti wasn’t going to keep Yuma-ci away from the well for long. Sooner or later, the witches were going to find out she had escaped, and they would come
en masse
to hunt Yara down. No doubt about that. Despite all that, the ride back into the human realm had given Yara another boost of power and she was pumping with energy. As soon as she swam out of the emerald waters she shifted and ran as fast as she could.

She lifted her furry muzzle and sniffed the air once more. The sweet scent of tarragon and mint touched her nose. Those were great medicinal herbs, but not the ones she needed to help Z carry out her pregnancy. Yara trotted around a few more minutes and was almost giving up when the whiff of decaying wood reached her senses. She stopped, then sniffed the air again. Yes, there was definitely decaying wood somewhere around here. She followed the scent, careful where her large paws stepped. Having to live with the inmã of a panther wasn’t easy, but one thing Yara had never regretted – the amazingly acute senses that came along with the package. She had been able to protect herself in the dodgiest parts of the world, to hunt for food when she was penniless, to recognize the acrid smells of fear and deceit on anyone. And now, once again, her feline talents had proven to be very useful.

She lowered her nozzle and followed the bitter tang until it was strong enough that she could pinpoint its exact source
–
a bunch of dead leaves by a large vine tree. The Amazon jungle is home to about 2.5 million insect species, but only one is known for the habit of recycling decaying wood below ground – the titan beetle. As if on cue, an enormous black grub crawled out from underneath a bunch of dead leaves. The thing was gigantic, almost half the size of her paw. It had a hard, brown crust, long antennas and six slimy legs. It was disgusting, but crucial for Z’s potion. Titan beetles in other rainforests were just another revolting insect just waiting for a good boot to be squashed. But these ones, from this part of the Amazon, were quite special – they fed off the soil that surrounded the magical Emerald Lake. So, adding that to the insect’s uber-strong genetics resulted in a kick-ass combo – the key ingredient that would guarantee Z’s health throughout her entire pregnancy. Now, Yara could go back to New York, even if she didn’t find the witches’ magical garden.

She shifted into her human form and zoomed in on the ugly grubs stepping out of the dead leaves. She picked one up and studied it for a moment.

“Sorry, big fella, but your death will not be in vain.” The beetle’s long antennas moved frantically up and down. It was probably trying to figure out what in Hiad had happened to the ground that had been underneath it just seconds ago.

Yara held it tight then shoved it in her… non-existent pocket.

Damn it.
It was only then she remembered she was bare naked. She didn’t mind being clothes-free out in the open
–
it was the most natural thing for a native witch from Brazil
–
but no pants meant no pockets to carry her catch.

She straightened up and scanned the area. Where would she find a pouch? She weighed in her options – she could quickly run to the river and make herself a lovely purse out of a crocodile, or fight a jaguar for a nice fur-bag. Good ideas, but they would take time, and time was the only thing she didn’t have. That is, time and clothes. She exhaled sharply and stared at the dense forest before her. Massive vines trees surrounded her from every angle. Several lianas of many different lengths and thicknesses hung off from high up branches, many others were wrapped around tree trunks. A slow smile lifted the corner of lips. Witches and humans had long used vines for food and medicine, but only a few people knew that they were amazing textile material.

She stretched her hands in front of her and took in a deep breath, opening her heart and inmã, feeling every living being around her. A water witch’s magic was powered by the Emerald Lake, but it fed on Zmyzel’s children – the nature’s elements.  Slowly her inmã connected to the trees, the earth, the ferns around her. Their living energy was so beautiful, so splendid, it almost brought tears to her eyes. She took another deep breath, delighting herself in the rare moment of pure bliss, then she brought her hands together and chanted one of her favorite spells when growing up. “Oh mighty Ivies, wake up from your slumber as one may. Twist and twine your lax vines and weave, weave a basket away.”

A powerful gush of wind rushed through her legs, zigzagged through the surrounding tress like a powerful snake. Trunks trembled, leaves were blown away, and lianas quivered. Slowly, the vines came alive and started unwrapping themselves from their resting place. They snaked up in the air then paused in front of Yara, like an army of creepers, waiting for their master’s command. Keeping her focus locked on her tropical minions, Yara drew a pattern in front of her, using the empty space for a canvas. The vines followed her hands. One by one, they danced in the air, twisting, bending and interlacing. Soon, the base of a large basket took shape, then the body, followed by a long holding strap. Yara smiled and gave herself a pat on the back. Not bad for a rusty witch.

So, why stop now?
“While you’re at it, why don’t you weave me a dress too, my friends?”

Hehehe.

Moments later, Yara was on her knees, scavenging for titan beetles with her brand new basket and wearing a super-cute short dress that would sell like water on 5
th
Avenue.

The faint sound of leaves crushing under pressure reached her ears.

The hairs on the back of her neck lifted. The sensation of danger was so tangible she could almost grab it in the air. Someone was trying to sneak up on her.

In a snap of fingers, Yara was crouched low, scanning the area, ready to take on whoever or whatever it was, she just hoped it wasn’t her sisters. She knew Poti would rat on her sooner or later, but she didn’t want to fight with Yuma-ci anymore. Yara really wanted her cousin to break out of that ugly cycle of hatred, forget the past and enjoy her life with Poti. Yara was silently praying for Apa Dobrý to guide her cousin, but if the bitch came after her, she wouldn’t shy away from the fight.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a bunch of wild bromeliads being disturbed. She snapped her head in that direction and caught the sight of the end of a thick, white tail hiding behind a thick tree, not even twenty feet away.
Holy Apa Dobrý,
what was that?

There were a few animals with white fur in the Amazon, like the uakari monkeys for example, but they were day-time hunters and not very active at night. Even though the sun was about to come out, it was still night time. No, whatever was lurking in the shadows was not a small monkey with bald head and pink face.

Without making a noise, Yara placed her basket on the ground and hid behind the fat tree. Then she closed her eyes and concentrated on the noises around her
–
a dozen or so bats flying high above, a few birds screeching in the distance and being answered by others, water gushing down from a spring nearby. Nothing out of ordinary for a jungle
–
no shuffling of leaves, no twigs breaking.

Yara exhaled the breath she hadn’t noticed she’d been holding and let her shoulders relax. Maybe it had been just her imagination. She straightened up and checked the bunch on bromelias again. Nothing moved, everything was as it should be in a tropical jungle. She pushed off the ground and bent over to pick up her basket.

A deadly arrow zinged past and carved an ugly hole on the tree behind her.

The witches had found her.

Yara dived on the ground again and took cover as three more arrows flew past narrowly missing her head. “Fuck!”

“You’re done, Yara! We know where you are!” Yuma-ci shouted from somewhere to the east.

“So come and get me, bitch!” she shouted back.

“I will!”

Yara had no doubt about that. The problem was, Yuma-ci probably had a group of strong, well-trained witches with her, loaded with arrows and other juicy weapons. Yara had nothing, just her freshly rekindled magic powers.

The stench of sulfur reached her nostrils. She looked around and saw a tiny yellow and black frog jump a few feet away.
Thank you, Apa Dobrý!
She reached out, plucked a few leaves from the tree and captured the reptile.

“Sorry froggy, but you’re just the weapon I need.”

Humans called that cute little toad “poison dart frog.” The native people used the reptile’s poisonous slime over the skin to enhance the effectiveness of their arrows. It took only a small amount of its lethal toxin to kill a grown man. Unfortunately it wasn’t as effective on witches
–
it only made them sluggish – but that was good enough for Yara.

She yanked an arrow from the trunk above her and rubbed the frog along its sharp tip, careful not to unknowingly touch its slippery skin. Then she exhaled a long breath and let her black panther take over. Shifting completely would put her at a disadvantage – paws can’t throw arrows – but there was more to her cat than a furry ass.

She let it stir awake inside. Its power burned through Yara’s veins and almost immediately the dark night turned bright as day, the jungle sounds became a well-rehearsed symphony and the array of smells surrounding her invaded her nose. She could hear anything and everything a mile away.
Two pairs of feet scraping on dead leaves to my right, three pairs just ahead, one closing in to my left.
The witches had split up to catch her from both sides. How predictable. But there was one more smell she couldn’t put her finger on. One foreign to this area, one that didn’t belong. How strange. But Yara didn’t have time to dwell on it right now.
One enemy at a time.

Making full use of her supernatural strength, Yara rolled on the ground, grabbed the basket, then threw the poison arrow at the witch coming from the left. The girl cried out and plummeted down as the long dart pierced through her thigh. Before her friends could react, Yara jumped over the fallen girl and ran for her life. Water witches were good runners, but very few had a large cat for an inmã. Yara’s long legs burned as she crossed the jungle at breakneck speed, but she could hear the witches not far behind. She zigzagged to the right, then to the left, missing her cousins’ arrows by millimeters. She jumped over a thick root, but a low branch appeared out of nowhere in front of her, forcing her to bend very low, slowing her down. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Yuma-ci close on her heels. The others were eating dust.

This was it. The moment of truth. It was just her and Yuma… “Argh!” Yara cried as sharp pain pierced through her back.
Fuck!
She had got hit by an arrow, and it hurt like a bitch, but she didn’t stop, she kept on going. A moment later, another arrow stabbed through her shoulder, slicing it open.
Holy Crap!
Yara felt her strength fade with each drop of blood that poured out of her body.

It was just a matter of time until the witches had caught up with her, cornering her from the east. Yuma-ci’s war cry echoed in the night and Yara braced herself for the attack. Her cousin’s body crashed against her, making both go down, tumbling on the dirt. Without wasting any time, Yara rolled to the side and connected her elbow to her cousin’s nose. That gave her two precious seconds of advantage. While Yuma-ci recovered from the blow, Yara pushed off the ground ready to face the others. Yara ignored the pain from the two arrows still hanging off her body and snarled at her enemies. Yuma-ci stood up and nodded to her minions. The two women moved quickly and closed a circle around Yara.

“There’s no way out, Yara,” her cousin said, stating the obvious.

Damn Soartas!
Yara didn’t want it to end this way. She didn’t want to have to kill her own kind, but Yuma-ci was giving her no other choice. She would fight for her life, and most of all, she would fight to get those beetles to Zoricah.

She reached behind her and pulled out the arrow from her shoulder. Hot pain shot down her spine, but she forced her mind to get over it.

“Let’s get this over with,” she grunted then without further ado, she lunged forward and kicked Yuma-ci straight on the knee.

Her cousin tumbled down with a loud groan. The other witches stepped forward, ready to attack. Without breaking the flow, Yara swirled low and cuffed one witch on the ribs, then blocked the other one’s attack with her left forearm. She then lifted her foot high up and knocked the girl with a front-foot blow. It was clear that Yara was faster and much more experienced in battle than her opponents but they were three, she was only one, and wounded.

Before she could think of a better strategy, unbearable pain shot down her spine, making her tumble on her knees. Looking up, she saw Yuma-ci clutching at the arrow impaled on her back.