Blood Rain Page 4
He continued, “This isn’t an ordinary storm. It’s a storm that’s going to rain blood on everything and the Blood Winged beast men are going to lose control. They won’t just raid us and steal a few people as usual. They’re going to murder anyone in their path until the storm is over.”
Mercy felt as though her face was becoming as white as vitulae chitin.
The chieftain began to pace. “I’ve informed most of the warriors. Rumor of it has spread so that most of our population is ready to evacuate, but there’s only so much that we can do. I felt it was better for them to think the rain is tainted rather than telling them its actual blood. Mender of Spirit’s vision didn’t tell us exactly how the events would play out. We know that the blood rain is going to cause confusion, chaos, and that the Blood Wings will attack.”
“How is a storm of blood possible?”
“That’s what I’m sending you to find out.”
“Where can I even begin asking?”
He acted as though she hadn’t even spoken. “I have a few theories. I think it’s most likely that this is some sort of natural event that the beast men astrologically knew was going to happen. They probably planned to take advantage of the panic it would cause. It’s also possible that the Ashen Folk have provoked another war. I’ve heard if there’s enough blood in the ocean, it can get swept up into a rainstorm. Or, worst of all, it could mean that magic has resurfaced in the world.”
Mercy said in a terrified whisper, “Surely, magic can’t resurface, right? Would that mean another calamity?”
“Let’s not even speculate on that. Magic hasn’t been seen in over two centuries. Pray that the forest spirits protect us from it for many more.”
Mercy tied the light, leather breastplate onto her chest. She was glad that Mender had suggested it. She wasn’t used to wearing chitin armor since it was usually given to the warriors of her tribe. It was better armor than she was used to, though, a fitted leather piece that was whole instead of a roughly sewn combination of fur and hide.
She asked, “How do you expect me to find out what caused this?”
The chieftain looked up at the clouds. “I don’t know, but I think if anyone is clever enough to figure it out, it’s you. I want you to start by riding to the city of Concord. It’s a five day journey following the jungle path to the coast. I want you to make it in three.”
Mercy shivered. There was an unpleasant coppery smell coming on the wind.
“I’ll have to ride without any breaks. With some vigor ash root I can manage that. I somehow don’t think I’ll want to make any stops anyway.”
“I’ve already packed some vigor ash roots in the bag of supplies, along with enough dried rations and water skins for you and Nightsong for three or four days. I also packed a change of clothes, a compass, and some raw materials for you to sell.”
He handed her a large sack. She quickly slung it over her shoulder.
“Thank you. I think that will be enough to get me to Concord, but what should I do when I get there?”
“Ask around. Follow rumors. Most of the people in Concord speak either the common language or Ashen. Mender of Spirits taught you the language of the Ashen Folk, so you should be able to listen in on their conversations. Don’t trust them and don’t let them convince you to go anywhere near the capital. Above all, don’t let them know that you can understand their tongue. It would make you useful as a slave.”
“The rumors say they don’t take people from our forest, only the islands.”
Catches the Eye scoffed and said, “Do you think they really care where their slaves come from, or that their people would know the difference? You need to stay sharp or you won’t make it back alive.”
Her back stiffened as she said, “Yes, Chieftain.”
He smiled warmly. “Under the circumstances, I think you should try to start calling me father.”
Mercy felt a lump in her throat but quickly swallowed it down and said, “Yes, father.”
He continued, “The city is divided into sections. The section you should try to get to is called ‘The Park.’ That’s where most of our people reside. You should be able to barter some of the raw materials for a place to sleep. That should be your first step.”
“The Park, okay.”
He said in a softer tone, “I want you to come back. And, I know you’re smart enough to do this. You’re the best rider in the village and you’re one of the few gifted that we have. Don’t disappoint me.”
“I won’t.”
Mercy felt a droplet of water sliding down her cheek. She reached up and wiped it away, only to see a long scarlet smear on her hand. Her hand began to tremble, as the clouds above them suddenly burst with a sheet of pounding red rain. Instantly, a terrible keening noise echoed through the forest. It sounded piercing, like a woman’s scream, but there was something more raw and terrifying behind it.
Other screeches began to answer it from all around them. It was a cacophony of howls coming from what sounded like the entire tribe of Blood Wings, and they were already in the canopy. She had never heard so many bestial shrieks. Just one frenzied Blood Wing could make a sound that could practically paralyze a victim in fear, but this was a chorus that rang above the sound of thunder and swept through the village like the howling of a gale wind.
Catches the Eye said in a terrified whisper that Mercy barely could hear, “We’re out of time. Go, now!”
3
Before she could run, she felt him sweep her into a crushing hug. She returned it, weeping at the overwhelming flood of emotions from herself and her father. It was over in an instant. She found herself running in reckless abandon over the rope bridges towards the vitula stables, fighting against the oppressive surge of panic sweeping through the village like spreading wildfire.
When she reached the shelter of the mushroom canopy, she rummaged through the bag and grabbed the first two vigor ash roots that she saw and quickly stuffed one into her mouth. She nearly gagged on the bitter, sharp flavor, but somehow managed to swallow it down. As soon as Nightsong was in sight, she rushed forward and shoved the other root into his mouth. He chewed, reluctantly, too nervous to think of eating. He was dancing from foot to foot pulling against the railing.
That was when Mercy began to hear the villagers screaming. She looked around and saw the bat creatures swooping down and barreling into villagers that were trying to cross the rope bridges to get to shelter. Many would die from the impact with the forest floor, and those that didn’t would have a worse fate—being conscious while they were drained of blood by the bat-like Blood Wings. She turned and saw one of them perched on the railing directly in front of her.
Its eyes were already rolled back into its head, giving it the look of a dead or dying creature. But, the way its pink tongue lolled out of its mouth gave it an expression of ecstasy, as though enraptured by the blood covering its fur. She had never been so close to one of the Blood Wings and was unable to look away in sick curiosity.
His body was similar to a human’s in shape but was covered in thin gray fur, with a mop of messy black hair on his head. He seemed to be young, probably only a few years older than her from the structure of his body. His nose was short and stubby with wide nostrils like a bat, and his fangs hung awkwardly out of a mouth that was almost too small to accommodate them.
His arms were long with sharp, black claws and a large, thick leathery membrane of skin that hung from his wrists and attached at his sides. The wings appeared to be more for gliding than for flight, though Mercy knew that the beast men could fly. The hair on his stomach was thinner than that of his chest, revealing pale, white skin, and to her surprise, a human looking belly button.
He was also wearing clothing, a roughly fashioned loincloth of hides and furs. What was most disturbing was the belt around it, woven in cords of green, brown, red, white, and black. She realized, in horror, it was made of braided human hair. For a moment, the creature’s eyes rolled back down. The color of his irise
s was a bright and dazzling violet which seemed to glow red in the light of the paper lanterns. The eyes appeared oddly human for such a terrifying form, and very intelligent.
They stared at one another in what seemed to be mutual curiosity and revulsion. For a moment, she felt something that she didn’t expect from him, frustration and even something like apprehension or fear. Then, as the rain blew into their shelter, the beast man’s eyes rolled back again, and he shrieked and lunged for her.
Mercy had only an instant to react. She flung herself onto Nightsong’s saddle and quickly sliced the rope holding him to the pole with her stone knife. Her mount didn’t need her guidance to react. Nightsong leapt from the towering mushroom, spreading his thin wings to glide. She looked back. The Blood Wing was gliding after them, but more slowly. He was making strange chittering, chirping noises, which she knew meant that he was trying to locate them with sound. The blood rain was so thick that he was clearly having trouble.
Mercy tried not to think of the rain as blood, but it was almost impossible not to now that she knew the truth. Nightsong’s mottled white chitin was smeared with it, along with her skin. Her clothes were already soaked into a deep crimson, and the smell was revolting. Her long, bright auburn hair was plastered to her body and was a dark burgundy from the blood rain. She guided Nightsong towards the woods, hoping to lose her pursuer in the trees, only to see two more beast men closing in on both sides.
Nightsong shrieked as one of them, with reddish brown fur, latched onto his leg and bit down, hard. Mercy heard the sound of snapping chitin and the sucking, slurping sounds of a Blood Wing feasting on blood and flesh. She knew they preferred human blood, but in frenzy they would attack and kill anything that moved.
She turned with her spear ready and drove the sharpened stone tip into the Blood Wing’s shoulder. He shrieked but continued to bite Nightsong’s leg, ripping a small chunk of chitin free. Nightsong was beginning to veer dangerously in the direction of the injury. Mercy jabbed the spear again, this time wedging it between the beast man’s clawed talons and Nightsong’s leg. The red furred bat dropped off, but not before it grabbed desperately at one of Nightsong’s wings. He tore it into shreds and managed to wrench the spear away from Mercy’s slippery grasp. The Blood Wing tumbled through the air, falling somewhere into the canopy of smaller, younger trees below. Mercy cried out in triumph, but it wasn’t a real victory. Nightsong wouldn’t be able to fly for much longer.
Mercy screamed as she felt a sudden pain and then pressure in between her neck and shoulder. It seemed her gray furred friend from the balcony had caught up with her at last. He had his clawed hands around her shoulders, his weight threatening to pull her off of her mount.
The bite was an odd sensation, and there was even something almost pleasant to it. She knew it was one of the effects of the venom. The wound didn’t hurt, and her blood became thinner so she hardly felt any of it leaving her body at all. It felt almost like a kiss leaving a mark, but she knew that she couldn’t waste any time reflecting on the feeling. She turned around, slicing the gray Blood Wing on the cheek with her stone dagger. He shrieked in surprise and pain. He tumbled off, but managed to regain his balance in midair and began to glide after her, slightly beneath Nightsong’s flight path.
A third Blood Wing attacked her from above. The creature appeared to be a woman. A light, leather shirt covered her mounded chest, cut off at the stomach. She swooped down and grabbed Nightsong’s abdomen, biting into the thick chitin protecting his innards. Even though the bite didn’t go through the first time, Mercy knew that another bite on that spot would allow her to break through, and then it would drink the rest of the ichors within Nightsong’s body.
Mercy quickly grabbed her bow, aiming the arrow at the creature’s head just as it plunged its teeth into the softened chitin. The arrow made a thick sound as it sunk into the bestial woman’s skull, like a knife slicing through a melon. Her eyes suddenly rolled forward, a deep glowing red that stopped glowing abruptly as her eyelids closed. Her lifeless body fell, spinning away from Nightsong like a dead leaf. Mercy shuddered, feeling a little bit of what the female Blood Wing felt. Animalistic or not, Mercy felt the deep terror that the creature was feeling when she realized that she was going to die.
Mercy fumbled through her bag, keeping her eyes on the two pursuers that were left. The red bat that had attacked Nightsong’s leg was unscathed by his fall into the canopy. He was starting to catch up again, and Nightsong’s descent put her back in the path of the beast man that had bitten her. She knew that she needed to get her bleeding under control. She grabbed the fresh set of clothes and put pressure on the wound on her collar bone, then, carefully tied it off with a bandage.
Her mentor’s words echoed in her mind all too late. “You’re forgetting the most important part…”
Mercy groaned. “First suck out the venom with a reed.”
It was too late now. The wound would continue to ooze, and the venom would cause a fever. But, that was something she could overcome. As long as she only endured one bite wound, the fever would pass quickly, and eventually, despite the venom, it would stop bleeding. She bound the wound tightly so the pressure alone would ensure she wouldn’t lose too much blood.
However, the wound on Nightsong’s leg would be a problem. He would have trouble running, and running was exactly what she needed him to do now that one of his wings was torn. The canopy of younger, smaller trees was swiftly coming into view, and with such a deep wound she wasn’t even sure if Nightsong would be able to land without tumbling onto her. If she was pinned beneath her vitula, the beast men could take their time finishing her off. Mercy pulled hard on the reins, making her mount straighten up as best he could. The tree limbs scratched up against her, causing at least a dozen tiny cuts all over her body. Nothing felt very deep, but she could see that one of the branches had gouged a deep furrow in the skin of her arm.
“Well, of course nothing feels deep. I’m still infected with the venom. I’m not going to feel any pain for quite some time. I can check the damage if I can just lose these two beasts…”
Mercy could hear the chittering of the Blood Wings behind her. They were clearly closing in, but they were slowing down, having to weave in and out of the huge tree trunks to avoid the canopy of smaller trees just like Nightsong did. That gave her an idea.
Most of the smaller trees had a thick canopy of branches. Bluewood trees, however, had large trunks and heavier branches that bloomed thickly with leaves but without as many small shoots that could potentially impale those unlucky enough to fall into them. They were also easier to maneuver through. If she timed it well, she could dive into the canopy of a Bluewood tree and might not get injured by a stray branch. Even though Nightsong was wounded, she prayed silently to the forest spirits that he would have enough energy to land properly as she pulled the reins and shifted his body into the awaiting branches of a Bluewood.
Nightsong disappeared into the foliage with Mercy still on his back, grabbing onto a large branch of the tree with his four front legs and his good rear leg. The two beast men overshot their target, rushing ahead of them. Nightsong trundled straight down the tree trunk while Mercy held tightly to the saddle, making sure her legs were in the stirrups and the strap around her waist was tied tightly. The Blood Wings were still squealing above them but hadn’t found them yet. The trail of blood that Nightsong was leaving behind would be easy for any predator to follow.
Mercy thought, “But not tonight. The smell of blood is too thick in the air. Besides, the beast men never follow this far away from the village. They’re in such a terrible frenzy, they’ll be lucky if they remember what they were chasing at all.”
The thought was comforting, but then she thought about the Blood Wing that had bitten her and shivered. The Forest tribes knew that beast men were intelligent but considered them to be less intelligent than a human. Those inquisitive purple eyes spoke of something more than bestial intellect. It was as though they were both
equals.
As she checked the make-shift bandage on her neck she thought, “Intelligent or not, they’re still monsters. They steal food, vitulae, and people. They might be able to change their appearance to look like us and fool us into letting our guard down, but they can’t speak, and they aren’t human. They’re just opportunistic predators. But if they are smarter than we thought, could they be the ones responsible for the blood rain? And if they are, why did that one seem so frustrated when he started to frenzy?”
Mercy decided to concentrate on her immediate surroundings rather than to dwell on all of her questions. When they reached the base of the tree, Nightsong collapsed under the strain of his wounded limb. She dismounted and surveyed the damage. The leg would need a splint, but the wound wasn’t as deep as she suspected. He would also need to be bandaged very tightly. A vitula could “bleed out” just as easily as a human.
Mercy looked through the bag of supplies and found a medical pack. First she took a thick silken bandage and wrapped it around the wound in his abdomen, careful to put silken gauze within the holes caused by the beast woman’s teeth. There was a splint made of chitin that looked sturdy enough to support his leg, and just large enough to fit it, though it was designed for a human. It would need modification, and she didn’t have time.
Mercy cursed under her breath. Even though the chieftain had packed everything she might need if she was wounded, he had forgotten that the vitula could get wounded as well. She stayed as quiet as possible, and with urgent speed she splinted the leg as best as she could and wrapped it tightly with a bandage. Even though Nightsong was favoring his good leg heavily, he was able to walk, but walking wasn’t good enough. Even though Mercy hated to cause him pain, she coaxed him into a slow run. There was no sign of the Blood Wings. She hoped that meant they had stopped their pursuit to reunite with the others.