Ghulamen 02

To find him set upon by that...woman...

And that she'd escaped!

Bianca was acutely pissed off.

Elmina trotted behind her, unable to keep up with Bianca's tall stride.

"Uh...Ma'thala?" Elmina asked cautiously, unnerved by Bianca's silent aura of death.

"It was a Siluat." Bianca said in a dead voice, forgetting to chastise her protégé for the vocal disfluency. She heard the resulting sudden intake of breath behind her. Secret police. A taboo topic.

"I thought they weren't real," Elmina bounced back after only a second. "Did the council tell you?"

"Of course not," Bianca snapped. "But she looked like us. Moved like us. Disappeared as only they can."

"Did you catch her face, at least?"

"Didn't get a chance to remove the mask." Bianca fumed silently, cursing herself for letting the woman escape. At least she'd arrived in the nick of time.

Bianca tried to relax her shoulders as she approached her tent, sweeping aside the drapes to enter. It wouldn't do to frighten her Tiri any further.

"Tiri..."

The tent was empty.

***

I don't understand.

Artem leaped from tree to tree, scouring the strange forest for any sign of his homeland.

How, he wondered.

He had ventured as far away from the Am'thon camp as he dared. Any further and he might lose track of the camp if they decided to move, and with them the other captive villagers.

Yet he found no sign of his forest. Nothing looked familiar. These trees were far too short, too thickly branched, too tightly packed. The air, too wet. The sky, not even visible.

How had they traveled so far in so little time?

He tried to remember what little he had heard while blindfolded. He dimly recalled registering the sounds of a flowing stream in his grief, echoing alongside a dank, earthy smell. He also remembered a continuous, thunderous crash of water that at one point had been deafening. He remembered it because it had blissfully silenced his thoughts.

That was about it.

That told him nothing, he decided. He knew of no such places within a day of his village, only one stream even remotely close to that loud, and unaccompanied by such a smell.

Bare-chested, clothed only in the trousers he'd been allowed to keep, Artem dashed through the trees. He bemoaned their lack of utility for travel. Their closer groupings were actually beneficial and took less energy to traverse, but the dense plumage of their branches disallowed for the speed he was used to. Even when channeling, he found he couldn't tell exactly where to be sure of footing. The foilage hindered the joy he normally found in tree-running. He had to pause on each branch and manually locate the next secure landing before continuing.

It took all of a second each time, but compared to the way he normally flew through the forest...this was painfully slow.

Artem spotted a leopard in the tree some twenty meters ahead as he alighted softly on the next branch, it swayed gently under his weight.

The leopard stared him down, surprised, crouched with its tail raised.

The thrum of the Verve filled the air and Artem's eyes widened.

It can channel?

He readied himself, caught off guard. Before he could move, the leopard jumped, to a tree several meters away. Kicking off the trunk, it landed on a foilage-obscured branch. Then it jumped to another tree almost immediately, using the same trick. The signature of its Verve slowly faded as it ran away.

Artem watched it until it jumped out of sight, then looked down at the branch he was on. It was far easier to see the branch and its footing from above.

It can see where to land from above...so it jumps directly to the trunk instead, he mused. A good enough place to sit and rest as any, Artem sat, still musing.

He was still considering the applications when he felt another Verve signature begin to approach. Not the cat. Artem quickly hid his presence, laying himself flat behind leaves and overgrowth. He peeked through, waiting.

It wasn't long before he was watching Bianca and the smaller, red-headed girl from before make their way through the undergrowth below.

"Al'ama," Bianca swore. "Why did he have to run? How did he even escape?" They moved quickly, jogging easily through the brush.

"Well, you did leave him alone, with Nadi and Falion both still in the infirmary," the small girl supplied helpfully.

Bianca swore again. "He was tied up tighter than a frog's..." she trailed off, eyes narrowing. Artem stiffened in his hiding place. She can't know...

***

"Elmina." Bianca imbued her tone with a warning.

"Ma'thala?" She turned to look at Bianca questioningly.

We're being watched, she signed with her hands. Elmina may not be able to sense it, but Bianca's hair stood on end from the feeling.

Elmina nodded, scanning the trees, Bianca the bushes surrounding them. She simultaneously prepared herself to surge, cursing the delay it would take.

"Ma'thala, look—" Elmina said, pointing at something in the trees.

Bianca never had the chance to see what it was. Something whistled through the air, snaring around Elmina's throat.

"Hurghk!" Her eyes widened, and Bianca saw the Cin'sinno talisman swinging, connected to the fine length of wire that had circled her protégé's neck in an instant, cutting her off from the Verve. It was laced with barbs that dug into her neck and tangled together.

Fool girl! She should have seen it coming!

Elmina's hands scrabbled bloodily at the tangled mess of wire as she stared at Bianca, eyes wide with fear.

"Run," Bianca told her, and Elmina hesitated, blood dripping down her neck and hands.

"NOW," Bianca roared. Elmina tore off tangent to the direction from which the wire had been thrown.

A glittering silver mask arose from the bushes opposite Bianca. The lithe figure it belonged to stepped lazily into the clearing.

"Hello again, Ma'thala," she said, laying sarcasm thickly on the title. "Don't worry. Your...attendant will be caught quickly enough."

Bianca's flickered down to the woman's hands and caught them making subtle signs in handspeak at her side. She recognized one as a close variant of stay.

Three minutes... Bianca thought, concentrating.

"Out looking for your beautiful little boy? Me, too."

The woman stretched, languidly putting her opulent chest on display. "I owe him, you know." She finished stretching, then tapped her mask with the tip of yet another dagger. The edge of the blade shone blue in diffuse light coming through the crown of the jungle, clearly lined with some agent.

"He made me bleed."

Bianca stayed silent. She waited, concentrating. We work always in pairs...

Someone flew at her from the side. Bianca side-stepped, swinging her thigh through the movement. She caught the newcomer across the chest, burying her knee in the woman's solar plexus. It was another woman, with a similar mask, but slightly different. This one wasn't sneering like the other one, but laughing. She slid down, crumpling to the ground without so much as a grunt.

The other woman giggled. "I told her to be careful. They didn't name you Ma'thala so young for nothing."

Bianca went on the offensive. She rushed the woman, drawing her own belt knife. The Siluat only cocked her head.

Bianca spun, throwing an opening kick. I need to buy time.

The Siluat merely giggled again, fluidly avoiding the blow.

"What's wrong, Ma'thala? Can't you keep up?" She casually backhanded Bianca across the face. Bianca's vision spun, and she hit the floor. "You didn't make me bleed. But I think I owe you too."

Such speed.

Bianca put a hand down, rising to her knees, sucking in a quick breath through clenched teeth.

"It's a shame. To be so strong, so young." Bianca felt her ribs crack as the woman kicked her in the side. She collapsed back to the ground in agony, unable to breathe. "And yet to have such a glaring weakness..."

Bianca tasted dirt. Almost there... she thought, clawing at the Verve. It was just beyond reach...

A blade quickly pressed up against her neck. It dug in slightly, drawing blood.

"I wasn't prepared for your boy — that was my mistake. Well," she paused, "My boy now, I suppose. Don't worry. I'll train him to be more...obedient." She laughed. "Didn't I tell you, he already likes me? He didn't even have to say anything." She leaned in to whisper.

"I felt him grow for me."

Bianca raged silently but kept her energy focused on the Verve, ignoring the pain, reaching....reaching...

"Just know you had good taste." The Siluat straightened.

The Verve began to drift away.

Bianca panicked, losing focus. She felt...strange.

"Three minutes, was it? You're thinking, you should be able to surge, now, no?" Again, she giggled.

The agent... Bianca realized in horror.

"Yes...can't have the Ma'thala surging, can we? That would be a problem. Took out a full Siluat by herself, even without."

Bianca couldn't feel the knife anymore, could barely even see. The Verve was a dim river down the length of a long, dark tunnel. The sneering, silver mask filled her vision double. There were two grinning smiles, two dents in two corners. They both laughed at her. Then, all of a sudden, they looked up, casting a furtive glance at the trees.

Something landed heavily next to her. The masked woman went sprawling. Someone lifted her leg, shouldering it, rolling across her body. Her breath exited her chest involuntarily from the force with a crunch, her cracked ribs screaming in pain. The next thing she knew her vision was filled with her hair, drool, and manly, muscular thighs, all backdropped by the ground swiftly falling away in a vaguely sickening fashion.

That's a nice ass... She reached out to touch it, or tried to. She couldn't get her arm to obey her.

Who..?

She felt dizzy, nauseous. What...

***

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid, Artem chastised himself.

I'm an idiot.

He ran with Bianca slung across his shoulders. He hadn't been able to help himself. He saw her in danger...

Stupid!

He'd sensed the moment the two she-demons had begun channeling. He'd watched the whole thing unfold, channeling himself. The other one, the one Bianca had laid out, had begun to recover. Bianca herself had been caught like a fish in the net of the sneering demon.

Bianca hadn't channeled for whatever reason. Can she only heal? he wondered.

Artem jumped from branch to branch, needing to analyze each jump before trusting his footing, giving a quarter-second delay between each jump.

"Tiri?" Bianca mumbled from his back.

The two demons followed below, catching up, the one having already recovered. He shifted Bianca into a better position, and she groaned.

"Put me down, Tiri...I can fight." she swung an arm deliriously, hitting him weakly in the side. "Must...save...El.."

"Sorry, princess," Artem muttered. If only I could see the branches...

He heard the whisper-quiet steps of a pursuer closing in, and he jumped to another tree.

I'm too slow, he thought, dodging another knife. It flew past, embedding itself in the trunk next to him, quivering. Artem stared at the knife and the trunk into which it had submerged for a second. He remembered the leopard.

What are you doing, fool? We need to run! Bianca tried to say, then flopped, sighing.

I can see the trunks... Artem thought, oblivious.

Without another thought, Artem tapped deeper into the Verve, pulling Bianca into a tighter position, and she muttered but otherwise didn't complain.

"Hold on, princess," he warned. Here goes nothing.

Artem jumped to the trunk, calculating the angle, placing his foot with utmost precision on a knot of wood before launching himself horizontally at a tree twelve feet ahead. Its trunk grew quickly to encompass the entirety of his vision.

"Wah!" Bianca cried out from his back.

Artem paid her no heed, his focus single-minded. He absorbed the impact gently into his frame, observing the position of the next tree with measured assurance allowed only by the time-dilating depths of the Verve, and launched himself again. Then again.

Artem grinned, the deep joy of running returning in him, partnering the flood of Verve circulating his body.

He sped up, each jump farther, more instinctive, and quickly left the she-demons behind.