Eight 4

Yuki relayed a message from Snow, ‘Found trees.’

Orienting on the blynx, I could tell the direction was… “About five hops to the southwest,” I muttered aloud.

“In human terms,” Mumu reminded me.

“Sorry,” I said, “about a third of an eisqilm.” Nearly half a mile.

“Enemies in between?”

“Unknown,” I replied.

“Then we go fast,” Mumu said with a predatory grin.

My own matched hers, and I spun up a Dog’s Agility. Yet Mumu’s hand at my elbow kept me from launching prematurely. She needed a moment to yell out the plan to Ikfael and the sisters.

Then she nodded to me to lead the way, and I took off sprinting down the muddy hill. The rain stung my face as I charged through the trees. In my previous world, such an action would’ve been reckless, the chances of a sprained ankle or broken bone high. In this world, though, I had Olympic-grade balance and reflexes, not to mention the Iron Heart spell to reinforce my body.

Within moments, we were on flat ground, the trees flashing past. Ducking, swerving, jumping—we flew across the ground. Any ants underground would be too slow to surface and catch us. And nothing else in the area seemed to be drawn to the disturbance caused by the encounter.

Soon, there’d be a much bigger disturbance, and my grin spread as the potential in the clouds above us increased. The spirits of the air had to work to contain the lightning—a draw on my body power to encourage them to be patient for a little while longer.

We slowed as we neared Snow’s position, a tree about thirty yards from a circular clearing. At the center were three trees that had bloated into the shape of grinning skulls. The trunks were so distended, I couldn’t tell visually what species they were—only that they were evergreens. Click.

Skull Tree Spider Ant Hemlock Hybrid (Plant)

Talents: Efficient Needles, Ant Happy, Nutritious Sap, Attractive Scent

In fact, all three trees possessed the same last three talents. And I never would’ve guessed they were hemlocks from the looks of them.

At the clearing’s boundary were four mounds of loose dirt, and the whole area appeared calm, at least on the surface. Interestingly, if you drew lines between the ant hills, they’d form a square—

Wait. A triangle inside a square inside a circle? It sounds like something from ritual magic.

Mumu gazed at the arrangement with narrowed eyes. ‘We’re staying well away from that.’

Do we know what it does? I asked.

‘If these ants are like the ones in our stories, then the queen’s magic will fatigue us. If she’s strayed, then—’

The effect could be anything, I finished for her.

‘It is as you say,’ Mumu said. ‘The same is true for the nest’s depth. That will also depend on the queen’s talents.’

She’ll be connected to the trees, though, right? I asked. Through a feeding tube or something? I’m remembering that correctly?

‘That is what our ancestors tell us,’ Mumu sent. ‘The skull trees provide both sustenance and bait. They’re part of the spider ants’ two-fold strategy—their scouts and hunters scour the area for prey nearby, while their warriors wait for those drawn by the trees’ sap. An attack on the trees should cause their warriors to swarm the surface.’

If we split one of the trees, then, I might catch a glimpse of the queen’s proboscis, I thought. Get a read on her spirit that way.

‘It will depend on you and your lightning,’ Mumu replied. ‘Will you be able to channel it to the queen directly?’

That’s what I’m hoping for. With three different ways down, the odds are good.

Then let’s begin. I’ll open the battle and then defend you while you focus on your Storm Call.

I double checked to make sure nothing had snuck up on us while we were scouting the ants’ nest. Let’s back up another five saqilm. I don’t trust the lightning not to wander.

Mumu nodded, and we withdrew to an area without trees. Snow Blinked even farther back finding a spot on the ground from which to keep watch. My paranoia had me check my surroundings once again, yet there was still nothing.

‘Tegen reports the camp is holding; our Ikfael is a mighty hunter.’ Mumu unslung her bow and got into position. ‘Ready?’

Let’s go.

She pulled back and released all in one smooth motion. The arrow flew cleanly to thunk into one of the skull trees. It had barely hit before Mumu sent another flying into a second, and a third arrow struck shortly after. No magic spells accompanied them, only a mild enchantment on the shafts to preserve them against splintering.

Still, the arrows did what was needed of them. The ground around the trees boiled as spider ants emerged to capture their prey.

Mumu resumed shooting at the trees, and the ants scurried up the trunks to search for the cause of the disturbance. When they didn’t find their prey, more ants came out of the ground, the earth parting for them like it was malleable to their needs.

Meanwhile, I hadn’t been idle. There were about a couple dozen spider ants on the field, and I meticulously checked each one looking for any that had dangerously strayed.

When no more spider ants emerged from underground, they started to spread, and if left unchecked would soon go beyond the boundaries of the clearing.

My spine tingled as I pled with the spirits of the air to begin their barrage. My stomach trembled as the potential in the clouds was let loose, as it searched downward to meet its fated partner in the ground.

BOOM!

The clearing went white with lightning. The leaves on the nearby bushes shook with its crash. I couldn’t see a damn thing, my eyes full of the burned-in afterimage, but I’d felt its satisfying closure—the tree at the end helping the lightning find the ground. I blindly clicked the area, but all I got were dead spider ants.

Then, the next lightning strike hit, and this time I caught the crack of a tree trunk splintering. Desperately, I poured body power into the magic, willing the lightning to seek further, to pour its energies through this connection that had been formed instead of spreading out into the ground.

The skyfire burned, my vision truly gone to hell now, but it didn’t matter because I was one with the sky, and there was nothing inside me but glory—a pure power that was wrathful and sublime and so much more than could never be put into words.

The spirits heeded my call, and I felt their wills add onto mine. For the lightning, there was so much temptation in the ground. It would’ve been easy, so very easy, to dissipate into its welcome embrace, and yet it listened to the spirits and me, and found the channel of flesh—charring it instantly.

The lightning discharged into and through the body of the spider ant queen.

I felt a tap on my shoulder—a reminder to not lose myself in the Storm Call. Half my body power was gone; the earlier effort to contain the lightning I’d summoned costing me. Mana and qi were both at healthy levels though.

In my vision, I saw flickering. A fire had started, but the rain should take care of it. More importantly, there was still another tree. Feeling upward, that second strike had drained much of the potential that had gathered, but there was enough for a few more.

I directed them downward, heavily urging a bolt at the skull trees, and then letting the rest loose at the clearing, bringing my will to bear to keep the strikes contained within it.

The lightning flickered and licked the ground, the crashing thunder melding together into a rolling roar. We were so close to ground zero. My ears were already ringing.

Mumu tapped my shoulder again. ‘That’s enough. Let me check the results.’

I let go my will, and the winds sighed with the release. Inside me, I still felt the exhilaration. It was so amazing; I couldn’t help shivering.

I heard the twang of Mumu’s bow, as she shot at the stragglers—four shots total.

‘That should be all the mobile ones,’ she sent. ‘For the rest, we’ll use our spears. Proceed with Healing Water. Report when you’re ready.’

So, the Storm Call was finished then. I tucked away my disappointment, and let the emotions running rampant through me settle. A hunt needed a calm mind and heart. I lifted my gratitude to the wind spirits and let them go to play wildly again.

My fingers shook as I unstopped my waterskin and healed my eyes and ears. Blinking away the water, I could see again. The trees smoldered and smoked from where they’d been struck, and all three had split, with one cracking right down the middle.

More than a few of the ants’ legs still twitched, but as Mumu had said that was what our spears were for. But first, we walked all around the clearing’s boundary to disturb the mounds. No new ants came out of the nest. And while I was pretty sure the queen was dead, it was only prudent to disturb the ritual circle. You know, just in case.

“Me first,” Mumu said, as the stepped into clearing. Her spear rose and she thrust it into a still twitching ant. When nothing happened, she gestured for me to follow her.

The place stunk of burning bugs, but work was work. My spear rose and fell along with hers.

Yuki said, ‘The fighting at the camp is almost done. The others will deal with the light and reclaim their arrows before joining us here.’

I nodded in reply, but focused on the movements needed for my spear. That helped me to not think too much about how much I missed the lightning’s presence burning through me.

###

As night fell, Mumu and I worked steadily to harvest the light inside the spider ant bodies. It was a miracle the cores hadn’t completely disintegrated with the lightning strikes—a real act of divine intervention. No matter how much trauma a body undergoes, there was always a core left behind after death.

The amounts were small on a per ant basis, but with forty-three individuals killed in the clearing, the pouch filled up nicely. At the camp, Ikfael and the others had finished collecting the cores there and were on their way. Every once in a while, I caught a glimpse of Anya’s light spell moving between the trees.

Mumu and I were finishing up when they arrived at the skull trees, the light casting broken shadows across what was left of the clearing. At least the rain continued to wash away the bitter scent of ash and burned insect bodies.

Ikfael, understandably, went straight to examining the sap left within the trees. A goodly amount had caramelized under the lightning, but once you cracked through the surface, the rest still oozed. The bravest among us, the otter climbed up so that she could swipe a paw through the stuff and taste it.

“Sweet and savory together,” Ikfael signed, “It reminds me of the dish Eight makes—the one of carrots cooked in chicken fat.”

“Not poisonous then?” Mumu asked. “Or any other effects?”

I licked a finger’s worth, and… Huh, it really does taste like carrots sauteed in chicken fat. Quite tasty.

“Eight,” Mumu said, with a sigh. “You need to stop putting things in your mouth until we know they’re safe.”

“But Ikfael would’ve said if it was dangerous,” I pointed out.

The otter nodded and stuck another pawful into her mouth.

I checked my conditions, and they were clear. The sap seemed to be perfectly safe and quite delicious. The others somehow resisted the urge to sample it, though, except for Teila who snuck a taste. Anya did try, but Weni dragged her away before she could.

“That’s enough.” Mumu said, the tone the same as she used with her daughters.

And it worked on me as well as it did them. I stopped reaching for more sap and paid attention like I should. It was just that the fighting had left me hungry. Teenage bodies were great for performance, but the fuel costs were intense, you know?

Mumu gazed at the expedition to make sure everyone was on task. “Honored Ikfael, if you would please retrieve the light of the queen. There may also be other spider ants in the nest, so be careful.”

Ikfael nodded, the serious expression on her face at odds with the paw in mouth. Then, she disappeared into the ground. While she was gone, the rest of us stood guard around the trees.

The rain fell, masking the sounds of anything outside the clearing, but Snow reported the area free of obvious dangers.

“Can you eat spider ants?” I asked into the quiet.

“No,” Teila said.

“Yes,” Tegen refuted.

“Anything can be eaten,” Mumu said in her mom voice, “with the right preparation.”

The quiet settled again, but then Anya couldn’t help herself from asking, “Exactly how does one prepare spider ants?”

And I couldn’t help joking, “Very carefully.”

Groans sounded from around the circle, and the hit I took to the shoulder was more than worth it.

The best part? I heard Weni mutter, “How a person can be so shiny and still make such terrible jokes is a mystery only the gods understand.”

###

Anya’s light spell did eventually attract a wayward giant javelina, but Snow managed to blind him with a surprise attack, and then he fell to our combined arrows. He hadn’t been anything special—simply curious when he shouldn’t have been.

Dressing the animal proved a nice distraction as we waited. Every once in a while, we noted how the earth trembled as Ikfael did whatever she did underground. Of course, there was no way we’d be able to drag the javelina to civilization, but depending on how much room was left in her Hoarder’s Pocket, Ikfael might be able to store the meat.

In the end, the work underground took about half an hour—enough time to get the javelina’s guts out and his body mostly butchered. When Ikfael finally popped up out of the ground, her fur was all goopy and matted. She looked a bit annoyed too, but her signs spoke of everything being all right, so the experience couldn’t have been that bad.

Ikfael seemed pleased by the javelina, at least. Space must’ve been tight in her pocket, though, because she only grabbed the tenderloin, loins, ribs, and belly. By mutual agreement, the expedition gifted the cuts to her.

Then she brought out a barrel big enough for a family to store rainwater, along with two smaller casks. All three smelled a bit yeasty at first, but after a quick rinse seemed fine enough for Ikfael to use for the nutritious sap. The whole expedition had to help, getting all sticky in the process, but she refused to leave without the three containers filled to the brim.

Once that was done, we were off into the woods again, looking for a new campsite, since the last one was littered with spider ant bodies. Even in the rainy weather, it was bound to draw scavengers. At least, we all got to rinse off.

It did mean more work for Ikfael, though. As we walked, she tested the integrity of the stone until she found another section of the hillside from which to carve out a shelter. We could have camped in the rain, but if stone was a reasonable option, then we would all choose it.

All in all, we were almost three hours past sunset before we were settled in and huddled around a fire again. Mumu looked at us and said, “Before there are any more interruptions, let us portion out what it is due.”

Somberly, we each nodded in reply. Then, Ikfael raised a small stone table upon which she placed a pile of mottled cores, including one big chunk that must’ve been from the spider ant queen. I followed with the pouch of cores taken from the clearing, and Tegen placed a bunch of smaller cores on the table, these from the ants that had attacked our previous campsite.

Finally, Mumu withdrew a pine box from her pack, and even though it wasn’t big—only about half a foot long—it thunked on the table. Lifting the lid, she revealed collection of cores nestled among blue cotton cloth. I could feel them pulling at me. While each was only about the size of a marble, I understood at a deep and fundamental level that two of them contained enormous amounts of light. These had belonged to the silvered amongst our enemies.

Haol kept watch, while the rest of us gazed at the light, reciting the necessary prayers for the dead. Even though these beings had meant us harm, now they would become the impetus for our growth. Their deaths were our steps along the Path to Perfection. For that, they deserved our gratitude.

At the end, Mumu tested the cores, so that Anya and Weni could be assured that the light would be safe to absorb. Then the darklight was treated, so that it could kept long term. A portion would be absorbed by the others, but the majority—about seventy percent—would be sold or shared with their families.

Finally, Ikfael brought a small scale out from her pocket for Mumu use to weigh out the shares. It was a frightening amount, equating to roughly thirteen thousand silverlight. A person could go from zero to almost Level 7 in one bound.

Per the negotiations with the sisters, I was owed a five-fold share, which came to almost twenty-five hundred points worth of silverlight. Except I would split that with Yuki, and I owed about five hundred points’ worth to Snow.

The blynx would get almost a thousand silverlight as a result, and she was supplementing her growth with twenty-five percent darklight, which should put her almost halfway between Levels 4 and 5.

The others in the expedition were also supplementing with darklight—ranging from Haol’s meager ten percent to Tegen’s thirty. Ikfael and I were the only ones leveling using pure silverlight, and the others considered it an eccentricity.

I asked for my shares to come out of Theloc’s core, and the light dissolved in my hand.

1,976 silverlight gathered. 738 Absorbed.

The smell was medicinal and astringent at first, but as it filled me, it also transmuted into something perfumy—a scent designed to delight one person, one central figure who deserved everything at her feet. All loyalty was owed to this zasha; she was everything.

I shook my head to clear away the illusory fumes filling it. The amount of silverlight hadn’t been enormous, but the experience—while short—was intense. The sheer, unwavering loyalty of Theloc… it seemed like he’d come face-to-face with the Maltrans’ empress, Sister Moon. Maybe even more than once.

Had he reported to her directly? Or had he been rewarded with a private audience or something? I couldn’t tell. All I “knew” was that Theloc’s loyalty was personal.

That was confirmed by Aslishtei’s nieces who also partook of his light. As for the other hunters, they prioritized Issa’s and Eswelo’s light, and apparently neither of the two men had had the same kind of connection to Maltra’s emperor or empress. It seemed to be Theloc alone.

So yeah, we’d clearly killed someone important to the Maltrans. And we’d done it front of hundreds of witnesses.