Chapter 9 – Conversation with a Felum
The cold metal of the spear tickles my Adam’s apple. All he has to do is push and I’m dead. Any other Felum would do it in a heartbeat. Most strange humans would do the same, especially in a world where people kill each other for food. But this isn’t any ordinary Felum. It’s the one who saved me; the one I accidentally shot with an arrow. Perhaps he wants revenge for harming him?
“I am called Kar,” says the Felum.
I try to say something, and then remember the spear against my throat. If I even so much as breathe a sigh I’ll end up with a pierced windpipe.
Kar continues. “Kar is shorthand for a far longer name, one with syllables no human could possibly replicate.”
The Felum have names? They have nicknames? I’m surprised, though it does make sense. They can talk among themselves so it’s only natural that they’d have names.
“Are you going to kill me?”
“I have killed humans before,” Kar says without a hint of emotion. “You would not be the first or the last.”
“You said you meant me no harm,” I remind him, feeling the spear cutting into me. A trickle of blood dribbles down my neck and onto my chest.
“I won’t cut your throat.”
He pulls the spear away and sticks it in the ground. I start to breathe properly again, hoping against hope that he won’t point that thing against me ever again. I owe him my life, but I won’t hesitate to kill him if he tries to harm me. I’d feel terrible guilt afterwards, but I’d do it.
I touch my neck but there is barely a scratch there. My imagination had been fooling me, thinking that maybe I had a gash the size of the Great Crater Lake.
“I am tired,” says Kar.
I’m not sure how to respond. What am I supposed to say? We are two different species. We’re enemies. We have no common ground whatsoever apart from the fact that we had witnessed the gods fighting each other. I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out.
“The wound on my arm throbs,” says Kar. “I’ve gotten worse injuries in the past but this hurts a lot.”
“I’m sorry about that. It was an accident.”
“I know. You are not very good with that bow weapon.”
I start at that. “I’m practicing.”
“The bow is a formidable weapon in the art of war if you are able to master it properly,” Kar explains, puffing his chest out with obvious pride. “I am the best archer in my tribe.”
I hesitate before replying with, “Congratulations.”
“You should be grateful,” says Kar, whose arrogance is a little disquieting. “If it wasn’t for my skill then you would be dead.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about. Since when had he saved my life with his archery skills? And then it comes to me. I hadn’t really thought about it that much since that day.
“You shot that horned bear,” I say.
He lowers his head sadly. “It pained me to do it but she was in a rage and I didn’t want her to kill you.”
I pause. “Her?”
“The Felum breed horned bears. We use them to ride on. We use them in battle. She was neither of those things. She was just a friend.”
I suddenly grow angry. “She was starved and she was covered in scars. Is that how you treat a friend?”
He growls at me. “I rescued her from another tribe many years ago. They didn’t care for their animals as much as my tribe did. They were cruel and callous. So I stole her. But then, six months ago, a healer from that tribe was visiting and saw her and demanded I give her back to him. My elders didn’t want a war and so she was given back.” He looks so desperately sad. “I followed them to make sure they were okay and when given the chance, she gored her new owner with her horn and ran away into the forest. I spent days looking for her. She didn’t know how to look after herself and so she grew hungry. That was why I was there that day to save you from the gods. I was looking for her.”
“I’m sorry you had to kill her,” I say, really meaning it.
“So am I.”
He sits on the log next to me. I don’t dare move or react to his presence. What is he up to? Am I his hostage? I don’t feel like his hostage, but I can’t be entirely sure on that point.
It’s now painfully obvious he has come here specifically for me. I don’t know how I know that, maybe it’s just the way he looks at me, but I know. If anyone else but me had found him in the woods today, I have no doubt that person would be dead now.
The Felum wears a belt around his waist. From it he unhooks some sort of leather flask and drinks some water out of it. His tongue appears to be quite human, almost identical to mine. I look away when he finds me staring at him. There are a few domesticated cats that live in The Glass Palace and they can become quite tetchy if you stare at them for too long.
“Do you require water?” he asks, holding out the bottle to me.
“I’m okay.”
“The other human told you to drink more. You will become ill if you do not take more water. A fellow tribesman of mine got bad insides from not drinking enough. He nearly died.”
“You sound like my mother,” I say. I carefully accept the bottle from him and take a tentative sip. The water is crisp and cool and quite metallic. It’s a lot fresher than the water I’m used to.
“Thanks,” I say, handing him his bottle back. He nods his head at me and hooks the bottle back on his belt.
“I wasn’t sure if humans drank water or not.”
“Of course we do,” I say, wanting to laugh. “Why would we not?”
“My tribe is under the impression that humans live solely off vegetables.” He sounds amused, too. “I did too until I saw you and the other human drinking water three days ago.”
“Humans drink water and eat meat.”
Kar’s ear twitches. “Human meat?”
“Of course not. That’s disgusting.”
“I agree. I refuse to eat human meat like the rest of the Felum in my tribe, even if it makes them think I am weak.”
We sit in silence for a few more awkward seconds. What can I possibly say to him? This is the most bizarre situation I’ve ever found myself in. It’s like the Felum wants to talk to me about something. Maybe I should say something, ask a question? There is a lot I don’t understand about his motives that I need to know.
“Why did you save me?” I ask.
Kar still looks away from me as he says, “I don’t recall the reason.”
Kar is not a very good liar. Perhaps the Felum don’t lie to each other and he just isn’t used to deception.
“Surely you had to have had a reason. Even if it was just something you did out of instinct.”
“Yes, maybe it was instinct.”
He’s lying again. I tell him so bluntly and he growls a bit. Maybe I’ve pushed him too far. He could rip my throat out at any second and there’s not a thing I can do about it.
“I saved you because I could,” Kar replies. He appears calmer. The sun shines off his silky black fur, making it look almost glittery. I have this overwhelming urge to stroke it, though he’d probably kill me if I tried. He’s hardly a normal house cat.
“You didn’t save me because you didn’t want me to die then?” I ask, half joking.
“The thought never crossed my mind.” His tone is deadly serious. “Yet I did feel oddly gratified at having saved a life, instead of taking it.”
“I’m glad.”
“Even if the life I saved was the life of a lowly human.”
“Most Felum wouldn’t save a human.”
“I am not like most Felum.”
He’s right about that. Brian had said this particular Felum’s blood had tasted different than others of its kind, and as far as I know the Felum can’t speak nearly as eloquently as Kar. From what I’d heard they can only make out a few dozen words of English at best, and even then they speak with a sort of guttural snarl, like lions trying to roar and speak
at the same time. Maybe the Felum have smart members of their tribe? What if the intelligent members are the leaders, or doctors? Is Kar actually in charge?
“Why are you different?” I wonder out loud.
He stares defiantly at me, and I decide to change the subject. I don’t want to upset him any further.
“Did you follow me here?” I ask him, getting to what worries me most.
“No.”
I hear something in the bushes. For a moment I think that Brian or one of the other students has followed me. I don’t want them to kill Kar or accuse me of betraying the House. It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong, really. We’re just talking. When a rabbit hops on by, nose twitching and tail bobbing, I give a sigh of relief.
I’m not doing anything wrong.
“The Felum already know of your home but they are superstitious of it,” Kar explains, eyes greedily watching the rabbit as it skips out of view.
“They believe that glass and mirrors can steal your soul and so they do not come near, though they have wished often for the chance to eat members of your House. I have no such fears about something so silly.”
“I think my soul is still here.” I pat my head, assuming that is where my soul resides. I know what a soul is, from a book I’ve read, but don’t really understand the concept and the theory that comes with it. It’s too connected with the old religions of the past and the new world tries to stay as far away from religion as possible. It’s not easy, what with gods flying around everywhere but it can be done.
“Do you believe in the soul?” I ask him.
“Yes.” He actually smiles. “The cat goddess, Jasmine, granted my people a soul when she was freed from her celestial prison many centuries ago. We worship her in appreciation for that.”
So there is another god out there besides the two that uses the planet as their playground? Am I the only human who knows about this? Why does this Jasmine sit back and do nothing while Tornado and Blue Hair destroy the world?
I have a feeling that right now I’m learning more about the Felum culture than all of Mother’s books put together. How I would explain the source for this information is another matter.
I fetch a leaf from the ground to stop me from fidgeting. “So why did you come?”
“I was curious.”
“What about?”
He looks at me with eyes that are so human. Surely that can’t be possible? Maybe it can; the Felum do look more or less human, apart from all the obvious cat parts. “I was just curious.” I can see his tail, long with short hairs, slowly swishing behind him as it curls over the log. I hadn’t noticed his tail before. He must have had it tucked into his trousers.
“I’m just a lowly human,” I mock. “There’s nothing remotely interesting about me.”
“I needed to know why I saved your life.”
I’m confused. I thought we’d been over this already? “You said you saved me because you could.” I can hear Brian shouting for me in the distance. He sounds very far away. I must have travelled further than I’d thought into the forest. I hope I haven’t caused him too much trouble by disappearing like this.
“That was true,” says Kar, almost mumbling.
Kar’s tail seems to flip into a question mark shape and his ears twitch. They hadn’t so much as moved when the rabbit flitted past us. What does he sense this time?
“Someone is approaching us,” Kar warns. He stands up, yanks his spear back up out of the ground. He takes the stance of a warrior, alert, ready to battle, and prepared to kill. I instinctively pull out my own knife. I have only taken the life of animals before, never a fellow human or a Felum, but I know I could do it if I had to.
“What is it?” I ask. I can’t see, smell or hear anything but I trust Kar. The Felum has enhanced sight and hearing. He could smell danger from a mile away for all I know.
“I must leave,” says Kar, stalking away. “I won’t come again.”
“Wait!” I call, but he ignores me. He leaps through the forest with a grace and precision I admire and then he’s gone.
“I want you to come again,” I whisper.
He may be the enemy, and his tribe may eat humans, but after this episode I find myself thinking of him as something more than an enemy.
Just when I’m about to head back to the target range, I hear something. I’m not quite sure what it is. At first, it seems strange but, as it gets louder, I recognize it easily. Someone is humming. I don’t recognize the tune, but it sounds jolly and happy. I hope whoever it is doesn’t bump into Kar. I expect they might kill each other.
I slide my knife back into its sheathe. I don’t want to alarm anyone, and make him or her think I’m out to rob them. Thieves and gaggles are a common occurrence in the outside world. I had even been robbed while on my Journey although the thief didn’t take anything with him apart from a great big knife wound to his leg. People defend their belongings viciously.
“...lucky, lucky, lucky...I should be so lucky in love...” the person starts to sing.
I creep closer.
“...is it my imagination or is this...”
The singer strolls into view. He stops, surprised at seeing me. I recognize him. It’s the small man with the giant backpack that I’d spied Father and Uncle Rooster having a secret meeting with. As I inspect the stranger from afar, I can see that his right hand has been chopped off. He starts to say something. He slumps forward instead, landing face down in the dirt.