The Lost Bloodline 1 - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Koda chased the Crooked forces until they reached the narrow paths that lead up and out of the low valley. He swung the oversized meat cleaver that the Crooked champion had once wielded like he was beating dirty rugs with it, hacking down foes with abandon.

A rage gripped his soul. All Koda saw of these gnarled and twisted monsters was the danger that they represented to his people. For just a moment, his anger began to wane as he cut more and more down. But then he spotted one of the Crooked that had been menacing Sienna, and the wave of protective fury rose once more.

The hunter teams did their best to help. Several with spears worked atop the cliffs to bottleneck the narrow track the Crooked ran to. They created a makeshift barricade to slow down the miniature horde of Crooked in full rout. The archers amongst the hunters sent arrow after arrow zipping into the writhing mass of fearful monsters, while Koda continued to hammer on them from behind.

As the crowd thinned, Sienna’s shouting voice finally called Koda back from the red rage that had filled him.

“Koda! It’s okay, the hunters have them!” The faint drawl to her speech, normally only a hint, was even more evident at the moment, underlining the exhaustion in the lithe wolf-woman’s voice.

Koda turned to glance over his shoulder and found Sienna there only a few feet away, blood caking her spear and forearms, her short hair wild with sweat.

She’d been following in his wake as he hammered the enemies like a butcher chopping meat, ensuring those he hit stayed down. Behind Sienna, Koda could see the villagers, armed with what weapons they could find, watching him warily.

The old man from before had a rough bandage made from his shirt around his forearm, and he was wielding a bent short sword in his off-hand while the two girls, his daughters Koda guessed, crowded protectively around him. Silently, the graying older man gave him an approving nod, while his girls were eying Koda speculatively. All three’s tails were slowly wagging, while their ears stood upright.

Behind the old farmer, Koda could see that those who were watching him warily, and those who looked on in approval, stood divided nearly evenly.

“Is everyone okay?” Koda coughed after he finished speaking, his voice hoarse and his throat aching.

Was I screaming? The thought chased itself in circles around the inside of Koda’s skull. I think I was? My throat hurts like I was. He vaguely remembered a wordless scream of anger touching his lips, but he couldn’t remember when he’d stopped.

“Yes. A few minor cuts or wounds, but no one is dying besides the Crooked,” growled the older man. “What you and the others did today was the work of heroes, young man. Who are you?”

Koda grimaced and tried to swallow, his dry throat working painfully in the wake of the moment. Sienna must have seen the pain in his eyes because she produced a leather pouch corked with a bit of horn from behind her and offered it to him.

While Koda fought with the waterskin, then drank to wet his throat, Sienna turned to look at the older man.

“His name is Koda Burke. He showed up to help us push back the Crooked in the village and was the first to race off to track you all.” The redheaded spearwoman’s words took the tension from those still wary of Koda, and the entire group regarded him with open curiosity now.

“Either a hero or a fool.” One of the young women laughed. “Since you are speaking for him, Sienna? I’d put my coin on the former. Can we get out of here?”

“No,” Koda said after his throat was working once more. 

He coughed once to clear his throat again and offered the leather pouch back to Sienna, grimacing at the gore on it. He hadn’t realized he was so heavily coated in blood from his fight, but Koda felt like he’d swam in a river of spilled blood right now. He had left a dark hand-print on the leather and around the mouth of the waterskin.

Sienna didn’t seem to mind, taking the pouch in her own blood-covered hand and drinking as well.

Turning back to the startled group of villagers, Koda explained his earlier statement. “You all need to get to safety, but stick near the hunters so they can look after you. We don’t know how many of these things are still lurking in the woods. When we are sure this place is clear, we can travel as a group back to the village.”

“What about you?” This time it was Sienna who spoke up as she used some of the water to wash the blood from her hands.

Now that he had better control of himself, Koda could feel the pressure of something pulling at the totemic gauntlet he was still wearing. Like someone had hold of his hand and was trying to pull him along toward the large tent.

For the moment, Koda resisted the pulling sensation and turned his attention to answer Sienna.

“I have to make sure the threat is gone. There might be more hiding, and there’s something—”

“We need to deal with the dead, too. We can’t leave Crooked lying around. They’ll poison the land,” grunted the older man, interrupting Koda. “You do what you need to, Burke. The rest of us can sort through this trash and get it piled up.”

Not a single villager voiced a protest at the old man’s words, just giving stern nods or understanding grimaces. Sienna glanced between them and Koda a few times before one of the old man’s daughters spoke up.

“Go with him, Sienna. We will keep an eye on each other, and I know I saw Netta up there on the ridge. She’ll keep us safe.”

“All right, Jenna. Keep your father and the others safe, okay?”

“You do the same, Sienna. Keep our hero in one piece. Poor man looks ready to collapse.” Jenna tossed a nod to Koda, not bothering to whisper as she eyed him speculatively.

Growling quietly under his breath, Koda squared himself and swung the oversized cleaver onto his shoulder. He winced when the gnarled bit of metal landed on a bruise but turned to start towards the big tent at the center of the camp.

Behind him, Koda could hear the villagers discussing something in tones low enough he couldn’t pick it out, and then the grunts of people setting to work followed.

They are surprisingly resilient, Koda thought. I would have expected them to need time to bounce back from the danger, but they are getting to work cleaning up the aftermath. How does that reflect on the lives they have to lead? He tried not to dwell on it too much as he allowed the totemic gauntlet to draw him towards the larger tent.

Koda stopped twice to ensure that a Crooked was dead on his way to the tent. Sienna caught up to him after the first one and followed in his wake silently, her spear held ready as she kept a wary watch on their surroundings. She did not try to speak to him, content to follow in his wake for the short walk through camp until they stopped outside the structure of rotten canvas.

Rather than duck through the hanging bit of musty cloth that served as a door, Koda switched the oversized cleaver into his other hand and used the razor-sharp claws on the gauntlet to slash the door free before stepping back and waiting for a moment.

When nothing emerged from the tent after several heartbeats, he peered through the opening to search the dark interior in the waning light of the day. Sienna stuck close to his left with her spear oriented on the door while she scanned their surroundings.

Distantly, Koda could hear the hunters calling down to the villagers to check on those they knew, but he put that aside while he focused. The hunters will watch over them. If they are talking, then no more Crooked are lingering nearby.

The interior of the tent confused him. Poles made of crudely hacked off saplings supported the roof, while ropes and stakes crossed back and forth to pull the canvas roof taut from the inside. This left the interior something of a maze to navigate as they cluttered the walking paths.

Several large, ancient stones stood as pillars towards the center of the large, impromptu structure. These pillars still bore the dappled pattern of lichen, along with ancient-looking grooves carved into their flanks that had their sharp edges softened through time and weather.

A few rough tables crouched around the interior of the tent, supporting a mixture of crude surgeon’s tools, weapons, and the half-chewed remains of a barely cooked boar. A pile of stinking furs sat in one corner, telling him that the champion he’d killed had likely slept in here, too.

Besides the dead boar, though, nothing else inhabited the tent that Koda could see. He took a slow breath. The rank scent of death and decay filled his nostrils, and he snorted in disgust.

“Yeah, doesn’t smell pleasant to me either. It’s preventing me from getting a good fix on if there is anyone else in there,” Sienna murmured, drawing Koda’s eyes to her.

Sienna was grimacing as well, glaring into the tent with an offended scowl on her face. Her tail hung limply behind her while her pointed ears lay flat in anger. Koda was about to speak, to ask her what she thought they should do next, when the gauntlet on his hand gave him another firm tug that nearly pulled him off balance.

“Son of a… Okay, Thera, cool it,” Koda grumbled under his breath, glaring down at the gauntlet. He missed the startled look Sienna shot him as he was already moving forward.

The interior of the tent was dark, only the barest bits of light coming in from the tears and holes in the rotten canvas overhead or from a hole over the juncture above the circle of standing stones.

The gauntlet resolutely pulled Koda towards that circle of stones. Sienna followed in his wake, watching Koda with brows knitted in curiosity and concern.

In silence, they navigated the maze of ropes and strings that held the ramshackle tent up.

Each of the standing stones was easily eight or more feet tall and three feet wide. In places, the gray stone bodies of the standing stones bore a crust of light brown lichen and a few bits of moss that were already drying out and dying—whether from the shade or the malignant smoke was hard to say.

The seven stones stood roughly in a circle, providing support for the center of the tent that should have made it easy for it to be constructed, but the poles and lines inside still left the entire structure lopsided. The open space at the center of the circle was filled with a round of ancient, cracked stone about six feet across. Sitting in the middle of it was a piece of nightmare.

The object looked like someone had tried to construct a stove or a chest out of bones and then stitched human skin onto it. Gnarled leg bones made up the outer frame, but the bones bent and twisted on each other before splitting grossly to cradle a discolored brass dish about the size of a cooking wok. Ribs lined the sides to give it shape, and an open space sat below for a fire. Underneath the wok in that hollow, the stone had the discoloration of ash, and the bits of charcoal from an old fire remained there.

Inside the metal dish was a pile of bones. A bundle of very small bones that Koda desperately hoped was animal bones.

Bones that were twisted from heat and something more, bent to look like a vague facsimile of a child, but with the tiny skull of a deer rather than a head.

Disgust welled up in Koda’s gut, bile rising in his throat, and he reacted before thinking.

The heavy blade of the Crooked champion’s cleaver came up and off his shoulder before whistling down at the bizarre altar-stove-campfire. Sienna gasped and stepped backward at the sheer wrongness emanating from the thing.

The blade of Koda’s weapon slammed into the edge of the metal bowl and exploded with a discordant chiming noise.

Fragments of smoking iron blew out in all directions, and Koda felt a line of fire race across his left cheek.

The bones and bowl remained untouched.

The disturbing object inside the bowl didn’t even shift in response to the blow or the explosion. A moment later, Koda studied the smoking handle of the cleaver in his left hand before tossing it aside.

Distantly, Koda could hear shouts of surprise coming from the hunters and Sienna swearing, asking him… something. He couldn’t focus through the sheer disgust and desire to retch welling up in his soul.

Koda touched his cheek with his right hand. Despite the gauntlet he was wearing, he could feel the warm blood trickling from the cut on his cheek. His blood.

The disgust crystallized, and he lashed out in a slashing motion with his totemic gauntlet at the undamaged bowl in front of him. He caught sight of Sienna lurching forward to try to stop him out of the corner of his eye, fear obvious in her blue-green eyes.

The altar, Koda wasn’t sure how he knew what it was but he knew it was one, had shrugged off the blow from the massive metal weapon earlier.

However, the second the clawed fingers of his gauntlet met the metallic bowl, the bowl parted as if constructed of smoke.

A gurgling howl, like a wolf with pneumonia, rang out from the gross construct.

In the space between seconds, Koda saw black fire flicker in the fangs studding his gauntlet before racing down and out the claws on his hand. The second the fire touched the tips of his claws, it flared a brilliant ruby-red.

That red fire consumed bone, metal, and flesh with the speed of flash paper going up before Koda’s next heartbeat thundered in his chest.

The sickly keening of a wolf shifted tones mid-howl, like someone tuning in a radio to the correct frequency. As that second of forever came to an end, the ringing, primal sound was pure, high, and joyful as Koda’s blow finished abolishing the Crooked altar.

Sienna crashed into Koda’s side a moment later, nearly knocking him over as she dragged him backwards in response to the burst of flame. The pulse of energy that followed the disappearance of the altar threw them both flat on their asses.

The pulse also uprooted or broke many of the stakes and ropes in the tent, tearing canvas and cracking the support poles like a dozen giants popping their knuckles together.

Grunting in pain, Koda coughed and rolled onto his side as the tent shredded around them. Sienna wasn’t much better, groaning in pain while fighting for breath.

One crunch came from close by, and he looked up. Koda saw one of the cracked support poles swaying ominously before falling towards Sienna, born down by the weight of the canvas tied to its top when the tent slumped and fell in on itself. The splintered and sharp end fell towards the prone wolf woman.

Sienna was entirely unaware of the falling danger, and Koda reacted again on instinct.

The blow from his gauntleted right hand batted the falling tent pole off course to slam into the ground a few inches to one side of Sienna’s shoulder, rather than her chest.

Silently, Koda thanked whatever training, power, or knowledge it was that Thera had imbued in him to help him learn to use this weapon.

“Watch out!” he coughed, still fighting to get a full breath in.

Sienna nodded and rolled into a sitting position, her eyes wide as she stared at the impromptu spear that had nearly gotten her. The last shreds of the canvas settled around them, leaving a lumpy circle that bowed outwards as the walls didn’t entirely collapse but also exposing them to the evening sky.

“My apologies, Champion,” a familiar, throaty voice said from nearby, drawing Koda’s eyes back towards the center of the standing stones.

Standing there, one hip cocked and a smile on her translucent lips, was the faintly glowing ghost of Thera.

Her fur clothing clung just as tight as ever to her pale skin. Her long, black hair shimmered in the light, the spotting pattern more visible in the odd combination of exterior sunlight and what she emanated. Poking up above her head were a pair of ears that were even more immaterial than the rest of her. A faint ripple that might have been feathers shimmered through her hair as she turned, and the ghost of a feline tail flicked on her left before switching to the right side, turning into an extremely plush fox-tail as it passed behind her.

“What the hell, Thera?” Koda demanded in a strained voice as he climbed to his feet.

Turning, he offered a hand to Sienna, who was gaping at the apparition that stood before them.

“I hadn’t expected you to sanctify a holy site already, Koda. I admit, I was a bit… enthusiastic in seizing it. But you don’t understand what this means to me, my champion.” Thera’s throaty voice was full of affection and pride as she spoke. “Not only did you destroy the profane altar of the Crooked, but you also claimed this ancient holy site in my name. Now, the ley lines beneath these stones feed me strength once more.”

“Is that why you are showing up to talk to me again? I thought you said you’d be out of contact while you recovered.”

Koda bent over further, waving his left hand in front of Sienna’s face, making the spearwoman jump in surprise. Blushing, she accepted the hand up, but her eyes went back to Thera immediately while her mouth worked to form words that would not come.

“Indeed. They had begun collecting power in the altar you destroyed, but they had not spent it yet. I believe they were intending to use it to corrupt the villagers they had captured. When you destroyed it with an anointing of your bloodline, you claimed the power bound up within the altar for me. Which is why I’m awake once more,” Thera explained, her smile growing wider and revealing her myriad fangs.

Koda considered her words, remembering the black fire that had turned the color of rubies as it hit his fingertips. 

The color of blood, he thought silently before pushing it aside to deal with later.

“Glad to help, then. Would have been nice to know what sort of monsters were out there before I went after them, though,” Koda said tersely, doing his best to not growl at the goddess.

Sienna shot him a horrified look for the disrespectful tone he was using, but before she could chastise him, Thera laughed.

“Ah, my champion! I wish I could have given you more warning, but I spent all the power I had left. And you have repaid that with interest! Thank you again for saving my people.” Koda grunted in understanding, the ache in his body having traveled into his head now. He understood what she said, but that didn’t stop the irritation he had with the ghostly woman.

“Lady Thera? Is… is that you?”

The tearful hope in Sienna’s voice froze Koda in his tracks. The tone of voice that Sienna spoke in echoed in his mind like the voice of a child begging for a loving parent to reassure them that monsters weren’t real, and the only thing in their closet were shadows. It shook him to his core.

Without hesitating, Koda reached out with his left hand and wrapped it around Sienna’s shoulders, drawing her to his side comfortingly. She went willingly, leaning against his shoulder and clinging to him for reassurance without ever looking away from the apparition before her. He could feel her fluffy tail whipping slowly behind them, bouncing against the back of his thighs with each pass.

“Yes, daughter of my people.” Tears also welled up to sparkle in the corners of Thera’s luminous eyes as she turned her gaze on Sienna. “It’s me… I’ve finally found a way back to my children.”