The War for Mare (The Fall of Man Book 3) (2 page)

I looked at Vala standing on the stairs in
all her bridal glory. Despite her calling my name, I left.

“You’re just leaving without saying
anything?” Snake asked.

“I can’t talk right now.”

“Tanner, you didn’t know her that well.”

“I knew her well enough not to think she
would every marry Iry.”

“Maybe there’s more to the story. You should
have stayed and found out.”

I stopped walking.

“You going back?” Snake asked.

“No. I’m ... I’m going to explore.”

“Explore Ancient City?” Snake scoffed,
laughing. “How do your purpose to do that?”

“Look around.” I held out my hand. “Where
are the guards? Who is watching us? No one. No one, I tell
you.”

Snake looked left to right. “I’ll be
damned.”

“Exactly,” I said. “I may have lost on the
Vala front, but I won on another.”

“What is that?” Snake asked.

“The enemy just let us walk in their
door.”

Snake reached out and grabbed a hold of my
arm. “Just hold on. Before you go off all arrogant and half-cocked,
let’s explore with caution.”

“There are no guards. They let us right
in.”

“That they did. But they are smarter than
you are giving them credit for. While you’re wandering around
freely, ask yourself why exactly would they make it so easy to do
so?”

Snake had a point, which I would keep in
mind while he and I took in all we could of the city. We need to
gather information that could help us.

The decrepit former
humanoid soaked my chest with the foul seepage from his mouth. It
was the worst smell I had ever encountered. At least I didn’t die
in battle, though it was not quite the welcome I expected upon my
entrance to Angeles City.

Nothing was as I expected, though.

It would have been poetic justice had the
Day Stalker beasts torn me limb from limb, because I was
responsible for leading them, and then, of course, leaving them
around Angeles City. However, the gods had decisive plans for me; I
could feel it. I was blessed.

Strapping men that would make wonderful
chamber guards had saved me from the creatures. I was especially
intrigued by the one who introduced himself as Davis.

How convenient that the
leader
of the
actual rebellion would be there to save and greet me.

Gods shine upon me; my mission was becoming
too easy.

The Davis man asked if I was injured. I was
not, and he gave me a protective seat away from the ensuing
battle.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said,
“even though you wield a mean stick."

“I do,” I said. “I am quite
accomplished.”

“I’ll bet.” He nodded, then he must have
gotten something in his eye before he turned, because his lid
closed and his face wrinkled up briefly. I had seen my friend Burt
do that, he called it a wink. But perhaps it wasn’t an eye
irritation, and more of a medical condition that only struck
males.

I was given a cup of water. It held a foul
stench. Not wanting to be rude, I waited until no one was looking
and dumped it out. If anything, I was taught manners, and had to
show those around me such if I was going to be accepted by the
rebels of Angeles.

Knowing how vulnerable I was to the Day
Stalkers, I was quite impressed with the skills of the humans. I
felt at ease and less in danger around them. I was curious as to
how they handled the Savages. With all the skills they had
gathered, I assumed they knew what they were doing. I could watch
them and learn their weaknesses with such ease.

There was something about the Davis person
that I could not put my finger on. He knew my name was Nito, and
probably much about me. He would recognize me, even in my older
state, I was certain. If he spotted me, I would think of something
to steer clear of his awareness.

I was crafty with my tales of ways to get
myself out of trouble. Nothing was going to get in my way, and no
one.

Tanner and Snake were
still in the City of the Ancients, and they would remain there for
a little while longer, distanced from me. Iry told me of that news
because he knew I was bothered by Tanner's presence. Truth be told,
it
did
bother me. I didn’t understand why I was looked at by
him as if I were a traitor. Why did he look at me with hurt? If
only he would have stayed a little while longer in my presence, I
could have spoken to him, clear the air. However, he and Snake left
shortly after their visit.

It did not take long for the after-ceremony
festivities to turn full-fledged. So many Ancients were in the
hall. They were laughing and smiling like I had never seen them do
before. There were plenty of fruits and vegetables for them, and
even real food like meat. Surprisingly, there were many people
there. A few of the elders from my village that knew me since I was
a child were in attendance, garnished with flowers.

“You will be so happy,” one said. “This was
a wise choice.”

Did they not understand my reasoning for the
marriage to Iry? In a sense, I was forced into it. I had no choice
in the matter. My sister’s life hung in the balance, wavering. She
was now one of
them
, and the only way to ensure that she
would maintain her human qualities was if I were with her
constantly.

My poor sister Sophie. While she was indeed
alive, in a sense, she would never be the same. She had been turned
by Nito. The only good thing to come out of it was that Nito was
banished. I didn’t know where she went, but she was gone,
vanquished. Iry told me it was possible that she was sent back to
the time when the Ancients were starved from their home, forced
into hiding. I asked for the gods to forgive me and hoped that that
was where she was. My life was no longer my own because of her. The
great gifts that the gods had given me were wasted. For the moment.
I would figure a way out of it, once I knew what it was I had to
do.

Maybe it wasn’t
the right way to be but I couldn’t help it. I kept getting cross
with Snake. He was so…how could I put it?...giddy. Yeah, that was
how Davis would describe him. Giddy like a little girl on her
birthday, excited. Every few steps we took down the main street of
the Ancient City, he kept saying, “Well, I’ll be damned.”

A few more steps down the road, he stopped,
looked around, and repeated, “Well, I’ll be damned.”

In fact, he was saying it so much that some
well-intentioned Ancient, if there could be one, stopped him on the
street, and said, “No... no... we are sure nothing you have done so
far in your life, would cause you to be damned.”

Why do the Ancients and all those weirdoes
in the Straits take everything so literally? It’s absurd. “Well,
I’ll be—”

“Don’t,” I finally stopped him. “Why do you
keep—”

Before I could complete my sentence, another
Ancient approached him. Like we did in Angeles City, they had food
carts set up all over the street, only theirs were shiny and silver
and nice. It was not just food, there was also some sort of red
drink, but it didn’t look like blood because it had fruit floating
inside. The beverage was in a tall glass that was shaped like a
woman and it had a stick poking out of its top. The Ancient gave it
to Snake.

Snake accepted it. “Well, I’ll be
damned.”

I wanted to tell him not to take it, but it
was too late. Snake took the glass, stuck his mouth over the giant
stick, and began to drink. “Wow. This is good.” He extended the
drink. “Want some?”

“No!” I barked. “You shouldn’t drink that
either. You don’t know what it is.”

“If I remember correctly, I think it’s a
daiquiri, maybe not, though. Maybe it’s a margarita. I'm not sure.
But it’s tasty. Refreshing. And cold.”

“How can it be cold?” I asked. “The sun is
blazing.”

“Ice.”

“Ice?”

“Oh, that’s right, you don’t know,” Snake
said. “Ice.”

“What the heck is ice?”

“Frozen water shaped like little cubes or
dice. They keep your drinks cold.” Snake again extended the drink
me. “Try some. You'll like it."

Since snake wasn’t dead on the pavement
already from some poisonous drink, I tried the concoction. Just a
sip, though. Though I hated to admit it, he was right. The drink
was delicious. I rushed back to the vendor and grabbed one for
myself.

Snake laughed. “It may have been decades
since I’ve been here, but I am surprised that not much has
changed.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Yep, lots of times. I love this place. They
used call it Sin City. People would come here to gamble, have fun,
and even get married.”

“Well, that part hasn’t changed,” I
snapped.

“Come on,” Snake said. “Finish that drink,
and I bet you’ll feel better afterwards. Then we'll head over and
talk to Vala again.”

“Should I?”

“Yeah, you should.”

“I didn’t behave very well last time. I
stormed away.”

“With good reason. That was your girl. But
I’m sure she has good reason too.” He paused. “Now, finish that
drink.”

I knew I would finish it, mostly because it
was really good, though I wasn’t quite sure how the big drink was
going to make me feel better. I finished every drop, quickly too,
because I wanted to get to that ice before it melted.

There’s one thing
that I will never get used to: the amount and the force in which
fluid and other disturbing substances are expelled from the human
body. I will never understand why the human body wastes so much of
what it takes in. It makes no sense.

Why would the body consume so much
nourishment it is only going to pass with a vengeance? Perhaps as
time goes on I will get used to it, though hopefully I will not be
in a human body for all that long.

While waiting to leave the battleground I
felt the sense of urgency hit me and I excused myself from the view
of others to partake in the vulgar expulsion ritual.

Finally, we left for Angeles City. I was
anxious to see it, though was shocked at what I witnessed. We, as
Ancients, kept our city bright and shiny. We restored it to its
original valor. The humans had let nature grow beneath their
structures, encasing them like a jungle, causing most structures to
crumble to the ground. There is a folklore that I am reminded of,
Ancients of science swear by it. They say that the human race was
originally a simian race. Primitive beings with fur and a tail.
They evolved into human beings, however, evolution was jumpstarted
when one of our explorers visited Earth and mated with a primitive
being. Of course, that is just a tale. If I did not believe in the
gods and their ability to create beings, provide us with such a
lush food source, I would believe the story from science,
especially after seeing their current habitat. When I pursued Vala
and visited Angeles City before, I did not notice how they
lived.

It wasn’t all humans though. I thought of
Burt and the others at Hopeland. How the underground habitat was
clean and pristine. Perhaps it was how the rebels lived so they
could beat whoever it was they fought. Apparently living in squalor
does wonders for one’s physical being and ability to battle.

I shuddered to think of what my sleeping
arrangements would be. I would only hope that they would be more
comfortable, considering the fact that the humans, like with their
elimination rituals, slumbered often. What I wanted to do was head
back to the City of the Ancients, throw myself on the mercy of the
court, and beg my father for forgiveness, even offering my own
human blood as a food source. If I wanted to reclaim my rightful
position in the City of the Ancients, I had to prove myself. I had
to earn that back.I would.

The night before my
wedding to Iry, during a dream that I didn’t recall, my fingernail
snagged against the skin on my wrist. It bled some, and was an odd
injury to find upon waking. I did not think too much about it,
except that it kept bleeding, showing no signs of healing. It
worried me, causing me to believe that I had an illness inhibiting
me from healing from a minor wound.

A few hours after our marriage ceremony, and
into the celebration, I felt the injury burning. I tried not to pay
much attention to it. I teetered between looking out the window,
waiting for Tanner’s return, and watching Sophie dancing happily on
the floor. Everyone seemed to be celebrating with dance, and men
were creating songs. Never had I heard such beautiful music.

While I was watching my sister, he
encouraged me to enjoy it. “Try not to look so glum, Vala, this is
a celebration. Enjoy the band.”

“Band?”

“Yes, those four people with the instruments
making the music. They are called a band.”

“Like Davis,” I said. “He was in a country
western band.”

Iry laughed. “Country Western music is
funny.”

“Are you making fun of Davis?”

“Not at all. But it is very different from
this. This is more what the humans call classical.”

“Is this the type of music you like?”
“Personally, I like the music from the eighties. Bon Jovi.”

I gasped. I knew that name. “He is a God,” I
said.

“Yeah, well,” Iry sipped his wine then
lifted his glass, “I’m sure many women of that era felt that
way.”

“What of the men? Did they not find favor in
him?”

“Vala, what are you…” Iry stopped cold and
looked down, then grabbed my arm. “Why are you bleeding?”

I glanced down to see the entire edge of my
dress was covered in blood. “I don’t know. It is where I scratched
myself in my sleep.”

“You woke with that and it still is
bleeding?”

“Yes. It is odd.”