“I guess I have to go inside.”
“If you want me to actually accomplish anything, then yes.”
I sighed, stood up, and did as he asked. The air already felt stale. At least the sun was gone. Nothing worse than wasting those few precious moments of sunlight inside.
Naji hung up a pine cone charm in the doorway but didn’t leave his sword, which cheered me up a bit, since it meant he might actually have plans to hunt down this monster. I still had my doubts about a monster-monster, some beastie roaming the forest. It seems like we would have seen it already. The isles certainly threw enough horrors our way in those first few days we were stranded, before Naji had his powers back in full – all those eerie overnight transformations, trees into stones and stones into sand, and the weird lights that would blink at us out of the darkness of the woods, and the shimmer on the air that Naji told me was the residue from Mists magic. But not once did the island resort to a proper monster.
I stretched out on the nest of ferns I used for a bed and stared up at the ceiling. This was, I had discovered, the most entertaining way to pass my time. Trying to count the number of damn pine needles I’d used to thatch the roof. I got up to fifty-seven before I gave up.
The sky had turned darker since Naji left, and I could smell the rain on the air, waiting up in the clouds to fall. I sat up, mussing my pallet a little, and paced around the shack once or twice. Then I went to get a drink of water.
The bucket was empty.
“Damn him!” Naji always forgot to fill the bucket. Some Jadorr’a trick of never having to drink anything, apparently.
I scowled and kicked at the bucket. It clanged against the floor. I wondered how long till Naji returned. If he was just fishing, it probably wouldn’t be long, but if he was off monster hunting–
How dangerous could it be for me to walk down to the water spring?
I mean, before Eirnin dropped dead in his house I’d gone down to the spring a couple times a day. I’d never run into any trouble. The two biggest dangers had been the Mists and the island itself, and Naji’s magic kept us protected from both. Why wouldn’t it protect me from some island monster?
And I had my knife, which I could throw well enough if necessary.
And nobody ever died from a headache.
I picked up the bucket and slid it into the crook of my arm. Then I walked over to the door and peered out.
Thickening clouds, a deserted beach.
He probably wouldn’t even know I was gone.
I reached up and touched the charm for good luck, and then I stepped outside.
I made it to the spring without incident, which left me feeling more than a little smug. The woods were still and the sky thick with the threat of rain. Nothing moved but me: no shadows, no creeping curls of mist, no beasties watching me from the trees. Even the spring seemed calm, nearly stagnant – just a few faint gurgles let me know it was still running.
I dropped the bucket into the spring and took a long drink. It tasted steely and cold like always. Then I filled the bucket to the brim and stood to walk back to the shack.
Something small and sharp zipped past my head, so close I felt the swish of air from its movement, and impaled itself into a nearby tree. I dropped the bucket, water sloshing over my feet and legs, and slammed against the ground. I was tense and ready to defend myself, but at the same time I couldn’t help thinking: damn it, Naji was right.
I scanned the glimmering light-shadows of the chiming woods.
Nothing.
Real slow, I reached back for the knife. My fingers wrapped around the handle. Every muscle in my body was ready for a fight.
“Stop right there, human.”
I stopped. The voice wasn’t like any voice I’d heard, not even from the people of the Mists. It had a rhythm like bells, rippling and cascading, fabric fluttering in the wind, high and chiming. Oddly feminine.
“And kindly remove your hand from your weapon.”
I obliged, sticking my hand back under my chest. Everything was so damn still. My lungs didn’t want to work.
“Who are you?” I choked out. “You from the Mists?”
Laughter filled up the forest, a deep resonant clanging like the bells on the clock tower of the Empire Palace.
“I’m afraid not, girl-human. I am very much a part of your world.”
The monster.
I pushed myself up on my hands, moving as slow as possible, listening for the zip of another dart. I leaned back on my heels, keeping my eye on the woods.
“You gonna let me see you?”
“Perhaps. Are you a friend of the wizard-human?”
“The wizard-human? Uh, you mean Naji or Eirnin?” Sometimes playing dumb is the best course of action.
“Naji? I do not know that name. But Eirnin – aye, that’s the one I speak of.”
“I know him,” I said, not wanting to commit myself as his friend or foe. Who knew with monsters?
A branch broke off in the chiming woods, and I tensed up, ready to grab for my knife.
“That does not answer my question.”
“Well, I don’t know him well, not well enough to say–”
Another dart zoomed past my head. I ducked back down.
“I ain’t seen him but a couple times!” I shouted into the dirt. “He gave me some clothes and helped my friend out with his curse – well, not helped exactly, more told him what to do next – and other’n that he might as well not exist to me.”
The speaker didn’t give me an answer. I kept my head down and tried not to let on how scared I was.
For a second I wondered about Naji, if he was hurting real bad, if he was coming to save me.
I wondered how pissed he was gonna be.
“So you have no loyalties to the wizard-human?”
“Ain’t got no loyalties to anybody,” I said, even though I knew it to be a lie even as I spoke.
A shadow rippled across the forest, and I heard footsteps, the crackle and snap of a figure moving over the fallen leaves of the forest floor.
“You may sit up, girl-human. I will not shoot again.”
I ain’t so stupid as to take someone on her word for a claim like that, so I moved slow as I could, inching up a little at a time. I was halfway up to sitting when I caught a glimpse of the creature speaking to me, and it took every ounce of willpower not to curl back up into a ball.
The speaker was a manticore.
Now, I’d seen a manticore or two before, locked away in cages, and those were frightening enough. But I ain’t never heard one speak – I didn’t even think they could. And this one was bigger than the caged ones, only about a foot shorter than me even though she stood on four legs instead of two.
She padded up close to me and leaned down and sniffed with her pretty human-looking nose, then settled down on her haunches, her scaly wings pressed flat against her back, her tail curling up into a point behind her head. Hadn’t been darts she’d flung at me, but spines, and poisonous ones at that, if the stories were anything to go by. I kept my eye on that tail.
“I only shot at you when I thought you were an ally of the wizard-human,” she said. “I do not care for the taste of girl-humans.”
“Oh. Alright.” I stood up, slow and careful. The manticore followed me with her eyes, which were the color of pressed gold.
“Perhaps you can help me,” she said.
Well, that stunned me into silence.
“Do you have a way off the island?”
It took me a minute to find my voice, and even when I did all I could do was stammer out the most drawn-out “no” in the history of time.
The manticore looked disappointed.
“What do you need to leave the island for?” I asked, mostly in a whisper.
“I’d like to go home, of course,” she said. “The wizard-human had kept me imprisoned for almost three life-cycles. I made my escape four days ago.”
She licked at her paw. My stomach twisted around and I stumb
led backward, one foot splashing into the spring.
“And how…” I said. “How did you–”
“I ate him.”
She said it all matter-of-fact, like we were bartering trade in a day market. Sweat prickled out of my skin.
“I told you, girl-human, I do not care for the taste of your sort’s flesh.” She sniffed. “If you do not have a way off the island, why did you come here at all?”
“We were marooned.” I hadn’t meant to tell her, but I was so unnerved it spilled out anyway.
“We? There is another human?” She smiled, which was terrifying, her mouth all full of teeth. “A girl-human or a boy-human?”
I didn’t want to answer that. So I changed the subject.
“I may be able to get you off the island,” I said, quick as lightning. “But you’ll have to wait.”
“You said you had no manner of escape.”
“I don’t. But a friend – a girl-human, like me, she might be bringing a ship and crew.”
The manticore’s face lit up. She fluffed out her mane. “And this friend-girl-human would be able to take me to the Island of the Sun?”
“Sure.” I’d heard of the Island of the Sun. It’s in the west, not lined up with any of the major shipping ports so not much use to anybody. Except, apparently, manticores. Papa’s crew always said it was a wasteland. “But you’ll have to wait till she gets here, like I said. And I don’t know when that’ll be.”
“That is acceptable.” The manticore stood up and arched her spine, wings fluttering. Her tail curled above her back. “I shall accompany you back to your dwelling.”
Naji. My stomach twisted again. Hopefully he hadn’t come back yet, and I could find a way to warn him. At least I didn’t seem to really be in danger – that would keep him from swooping in to save me.
“It’s small,” I said. “It’ll remind you of your prison, I’m sure of it. You’d be better to live out in the woods…” I swept my hand around and the trees rustled.
“Don’t be absurd, girl-human. You will leave me when the friend-girl-human comes. Show me the way.”
My brain spun round and round. All I could think about was Naji skulking in front of the fire, unaware that I was bringing in a monster keen on eating him. Was this how it all ended? Me not being able to out-talk a manticore and Naji winding up as its dinner?
“Why do you dally?” The manticore’s voice echoed through my skull.
“Uh, I need to get some clean water. Hold on.” I felt around in the underbrush for the water bucket. The manticore regarded me with her big gold eyes. I dipped the bucket into the spring, and watched as the water flooded in. Every now and then I dipped the bucket so the water flowed back out again, blocking the manticore’s view with my back while I did it. All the while I scrambled to come up with some way out of this mess. Could you strike a deal with a manticore? Stories always made ’em out as monsters, teeth and claws and nothing else.
“This is taking too long,” the manticore said.
“Sorry.” My heart pounded. I let the bucket fill completely and then stood up. “Look, you gotta promise me something if I’m gonna help you off the island.”
“A promise?” The manticore smiled again, teeth flashing. I regretted my words immediately.
“Look, if we’re gonna help you, me and my friend, you can’t run around eating every man – uh, every boy-human – we come across, do you understand?”
“No,” the manticore said. “You would starve me?”
“Of course not! But you’ll have to be, ah, selective.”
The manticore unfurled her tail, the tip of the spine glistening. “I’m always selective with my meals,” she said. “I only ate the wizard-human out of desperation. I have never cared for the flavor of his sort. Much too stringy.”
“Uh, that’s not exactly what I meant…”
The manticore curled up her lip into a toothy little sneer.
“Why don’t you just ask me before you eat anyone? In exchange for getting you off the island?”
“I can agree to those terms.”
“And you have to not eat the guy if I say no.”
For a moment the manticore pouted. Then she licked a paw and ran it over her mane. “We shall see.”
Good enough. And if she didn’t like the taste of the Wizard Eirnin, maybe she wouldn’t have no interest in eating Naji, neither.
We walked side by side back to the shack on the beach. I sure as hell wasn’t letting her walk behind me, though she didn’t seem to much care one way or the other. She moved real quick even considering her size, though branches snapped, and leaves and pine cones showered over us every time she knocked into a tree. She made more noise than me or Naji ever did.
When we came to the shack, I smelled fish and wild onions frying on the hearth. I stopped. He came home, found me gone, and started cooking?
And then my heart started pounding again, cause now I had to find a way to warn him.
The manticore stopped outside the shack. “You are correct,” she said. “This is much too small for me.”
I prayed to Kaol and every other goddess I knew that Naji would stay inside. “Let me go in first, let him know–”
“Him?” One of her eyebrows arched up. She ran her thin pink tongue over her perfect lady’s lips.
“You promised you’d ask,” I said, and then I bolted inside, slamming the door shut. Naji looked up at me.
“I really expected you to do that sooner,” he said.
“What?” My breath was coming too fast, and I tried to rein it so he wouldn’t think anything was wrong.
“Run off. I didn’t think I could truly keep you locked in the shack.” He went back to stirring our meal. “I assume you went to get water? It seems like it was an uneventful trip.”
He looked at me again, and I could only stare back at him, stricken.
He frowned, and his eyes darkened. “What’s wrong?”
I set the water down in its place beside the hearth and tried to come up with the words. Course, I didn’t get the chance, cause the manticore bounded into the shack, damn near knocking the door off the hinges.
Naji was crouched in fighting stance with his knife drawn before I even saw him move.
“Ananna,” he hissed. “My sword.”
I picked the sword up from where it was propped up against the wall and tossed it at him, but I kept my eyes on the manticore. “You promised,” I said.
Naji whipped his head around at me.
“Yes, but you did not tell me you had a Jadorr’a in your stone-nest.”
She said “Jadorr’a” the way I might’ve said “sweet lime drink” or “sugar-roses”.
“Ananna, what have you done?” Naji asked me, his voice low. He sounded angry, which if he was like any other man meant he was scared.
The manticore let out a little grumbly noise and crouched low like a cat about to pounce.
“Kaol, couldn’t you just eat some fish like a normal cat?” I shouted.
But both of ’em acted like I hadn’t said nothing.
And then the manticore’s pretty human face twisted up in a grimace. “Jadorr’a!” she said. “You’ve been cursed.”
Neither me or Naji moved.
“You hide the smell well, but… there, there it is again.” She shook her head, mane flying out in a big golden puff.
“You can’t eat him if he’s cursed?” I said.
“Of course not! It taints the flavor of the meat and will pass onto me, and besides which, from the smell of it, this is not a curse I want to possess.” She sniffed the air again.
“So, you’re not going to eat him?” I said.
“Not until the curse is lifted.” She sniffed once more, her nose wrinkling up at the brow. “Three impossible tasks,” she said. She turned to Naji. “I shall help you.”
Naji looked at a loss for words, which might’ve been funny in any other circumstance.
The manticore sat back on her haunches. “It’s ver
y warm in your stone-nest.”
“We have a fire going,” I told her.
Naji shot me a dirty look.
“You promise you ain’t gonna eat him till his curse is lifted?”
The manticore shuddered. “I told you, I cannot abide the flavor of cursed flesh. It tastes half-rotted.”
Naji stayed in fighting stance.
“Girl-human, you were correct in assuming that I would find your stone-nest too similar to the walls of the wizard-human’s prison. I shall make a nest nearby. Is that acceptable?”
I didn’t dare look at Naji when I answered “yes”.
The manticore nodded and backed out the door, the snap and stomp of her footsteps drifting through the cracked stone walls.
Naji finally let down his knife and sword. He turned toward me. Kaol, I wanted to run out onto the beach and dive into the cold black sea. Anything to get away from the expression on his face.
“What–”
“She bullied me!” I said. “She asked if I knew a way off the island and I was trying to keep her from finding you and – and eating you and–”
Naji held up one hand.
“You don’t have a way off the island.”
“I will when Marjani shows up. Look, she doesn’t eat women, alright? And she won’t eat you cause of the curse, and we can’t break that till we leave. So Marjani takes us to the Island of the Sun and we drop off the manticore and then we fix your curse.”
Naji stared at me. “My curse is unbreakable,” he said.
“That ain’t true.” Sadness washed over me, and I wondered what would happen if I kissed him right then, and showed him at least one of the tasks wasn’t impossible.
“It is.” He sighed. “At least I know I won’t die in the jaws of a manticore. Although I can’t believe you brought that creature here.”
“I didn’t have no choice! What the hell was I supposed to do? She kept shooting spines at me.”
Naji looked at me sideways. “She wasn’t going to hurt you.”
“Yeah, but how I was supposed to know that?”
Outside, the manticore roared, and it sounded like a trumpet announcing the winner of the horse races in Lisirra. Naji tossed his sword onto the table and looked defeated.