Strange goblins. So very strange. Rabid beasts that bring nothing but death. Seventeen long years and they still plague us. Why? Shouldn’t they die out? Kill each other? Starve? Something? They leave the pregnant alone. I tested to be sure. She didn’t want to live anymore anyways. But she will now. It walked right past her as if she were nothing more than a shrub.

A link? Does she still speak to them? We can sense life in a womb even if she doesn’t show. They can clearly sense it still, but what stops them? Is it conscience or compulsion? Is there hope? I have no way of knowing.

They are like us, but different. They were us, but poisoned. People are still inside them, deep down, under the gray skin. Can they come back? Need a live subject again. Injection cure unfeasible. Need oral formula. But how will they take it? Must change all of them.

The days of clear thoughts become fewer and fewer. I must execute my plan soon. Soon before all hope has been lost to the twisted.

-Excerpt from “Doc” Vorran’s journal. Dated 17 years post poisoning mid gresoch

OTHIN:

Leader Wikon calls to me through the flap of his tent. “Come in.” He is separate from the clan. He has to be. He is not one of us, in this particular case he is better than us. I have not lived as long as my father or Jar’kog, but Wikon is by far the best leader our clan has ever known.

There is a large wooden platform raised above a pond like those by the arena. A short rope bridge connects the platform to solid ground. The bridge hangs over the glowing purple water and translucent poisonous fish. On top of the platform is a massive tent with multiple points from tent poles, skysinger made. Inside rugs made from the skins of prey cover the floor. To the left are cushions, blankets, and more rugs with a small wooden table in the middle; it is a sitting space. To the right there is a taller table covered in curling papers and other objects.

A large map spreads across the messy surface, a map of the territories with trinkets holding down the corners. I recognize their shape, daypeople objects, though I do not know their purpose. Towards the back is a large bed where Leader Wikon spends his days with his two mates. The bed is no more than a wood-built box filled with layers of cushions, blankets, and other soft things. It is unlike the beds Talea speaks of in her home, but it is more than most of us have.

I push aside the tent flap and enter with purpose closing it behind me. Leader Wikon is standing at his table glaring at the map. He shakes his head tisking his tongue with disapproval, his forehead creases with focus. His claws click on the table top with anxious energy. Something is wrong, something is always wrong, but his spirit wreaks of death. Something new has happened, new is almost always bad.

I come into his home by invitation of a bane. Chief Wikon challenges and kills uninvited trespassers, unless they have a good reason. No one ever has a good enough reason. Our bold leader does not tolerate excuses. “Good evening my leader.” I tilt my head in respect.

The Leader looks up at me with eyebrows raised in surprise. “Ah, Othin. Thank you for being early. Come in and sit.”

He breaks away from his map and ushers me into the sitting area. We lounge on the lumpy but comfortable cushions; their bright colors are dim in the yellow light of candles melting over other tables throughout the tent. I do not like them; they make the whole tent smell like spicy fruit. I do not understand his fascination with them, we can all see fine without need of extra light.

I smile at my leader. “It is good to see you Wikon. Does something trouble you?” I point over to the table with the map.

He shakes his head unable to move the anger from his eyes. “I am leader of the weakest of all the clans. Of course, I am troubled.” He forces a grin. “How is Arken?”

I shrug. “Fine. A minor cough in the lungs still. Nothing that will stop him.”

Leader Wikon nods. “That happens in dark-time. He should be careful. A young sprout might hope to take advantage of his weakness and earn a name for himself as the slayer of Arken.”

I chuckle. “One already has, he is fine.”

Leader Wikon raises his eyebrows. “Of course, he always will be.”

There is a pause. He looks me up and down as if weighing my trust. There is so much tension in him, anxiety, fear. He is the brave and powerful Wikon, what could he be afraid of? That notion frightens me more than anything else.

Wikon gestures to me with waving claws. “You are the son of my closest ally. Arken and I have talked in circles trying to find a solution. If you are even half the moonrunner your father is than you may help us. But you will speak none of this to anyone else, I do not want what follows to be heard by my banes.”

Banes are useful tools to the Leader; they keep a semblance of order within the clan. Due to their stealth and control they also make excellent spies; this is their primary job. What is more, no one knows their identities, when the banes serve their duties, they always wear masks. If anyone sees a bane unmasked, they are killed to keep the secret quiet. The fear this brings keeps our people in line, we never know who is watching us. We never know if our closest allies or fiercest enemies are a bane. Thus, we stay in line. For you never know who will come to you while you sleep.

I nod with agreement and listen in silence. “I have received a report from one of my spies, you do not need to know who.” He raises an eyebrow as if I will question it, I do not. “The Razor Bone numbers have been growing over the years to become an increasing threat. But now they move to war.”

I frown. There are many things about this that do not make sense. Razor Bone do not do war. They are not organized enough to affect a battle with any clan, the best they can do is random groups attack our borders. “We have always fended off their raids before.”

Leader Wikon shakes his head and lets out a slow breath of defeat. “They are different now. We have not fought a skirmish in two years, there is a reason for that. It is not that they have learned to fear us as so many claim.”

I lean closer listening to his words with care, I find that I am holding my breath and release it with stiff blows. “What has changed?”

Leader Wikon rubs his temples. “In the past the creatures have killed each other off and kept themselves in line. They have charged us without plan or strategy because they are thoughtless beats and we cut them down as such. But now, they are organizing.”

I speak with slow careful words. “How is that possible? To organize they would need-“

Wikon nods as he interrupts me. “A leader. They have one. We do not know where he came from, but he is not dim as they are. He has brought the Razor Bone to line under his name and he intends to kill us all.”

I sit back with shocked wide eyes. “What can we do? We have lost our only advantage over them.”

I hear a sigh of grief as if we have already lost. “Yes, we have.” He reaches out to a bronze cup on the table and drinks from it, his eyes flash with brighter intensity. “I have considered an alliance with the Srexi clan, though our people will not be happy about it. But even if it comes to pass, we will still not have the numbers to be victorious. Unless we find another way, we will not see another dark-time.”

I squint into the distance thinking. “But, where did this leader come from? It is not one of ours, and it cannot be a Razor Bone. They are too dim.”

Leader Wikon nods and takes another gulp as purple liquid drizzles down his chin. “But the Srexi are not.”

My mouth gapes. “A Srexi betrayer?”

Wikon shrugs again. “I do not know for sure. But it is the only thought that makes sense. We are not missing anyone.”

I nod with solemn agreement, Wikon keeps track of every single moonrunner. He keeps a book locked away with many other marks and symbols that mean things I do not understand. He showed it to me once, but did not explain the why of it. He only swore me to secrecy. Beyond the fact that he cares about every single life in our clan, which is not our way, he somehow knows how to read and write. Those symbols and marks match the patterns in my books, where would he learn that?

The Srexi are a cryptic lot, an alliance with them makes me uneasy. We know almost nothing about them. Any spy sent in to seek out information dies before reporting. They wish only to be left alone and they work hard to keep it that way. Allying with them is a gamble, a risk, they could just as well decide to kill us instead. An enemy you do not know is an enemy you cannot predict.

An idea strikes me with full force. It almost knocks the breath from me. It is ridiculous, insane, impossible, and it might work. “Leader Wikon, what if we had a third alliance?”

He laughs in my face. “Third alliance? Is there a clan you have been hiding from me Othin?”

I pinch my chin in thought. “Not quite. But we are coming to desperate times my leader. We need the daypeople.”

His laughing comes to a halt and his faces stills into stone. “That better be a joke.”

I hear a grunting sound and turn my head. In the back of the tent I see the two beauties in his bed begin to stir and wake. I stifle a flinch remembering my visit was early and I have accidentally woken the leader’s mates who are not known for being evening people. A pale gray arm flings itself from the blankets with thin claws clutching the covers. An independent foot pops out the bottom, her skin is a dark charcoal shade. As the foot kicks and moves it reveals two red eyes opening and closing in rapid progression trying to adjust to wakefulness. The grunts change into angry growls. Leader Wikon snaps at them to quiet their complaints.

I turn my attention back to the conversation and stare on in silence at my leader. He breathes in deep through flaring nostrils. “The thought of announcing to this horde the daypeople are now our allies is ridiculous.”

I point a finger into the air. “We can do this. We only need someone to be our bridge.”

My troubled leader frowns and shakes his head. “Even my best banes cannot approach those daypeople without taking metal to the chest. Any delegation will turn into a sea of blood on both sides. Who could we find to be our voice?”

I beam with pride. “I have already found her.”

✽✽✽

TALEA:

“If you could have one wish, what would it be?” I giggle while my feet swing under me.

We’re high up in the top of a rohedan tree at the edge of nightstalker territory. With no leaves on the branches we can see the entire snow-covered hillside. The dozens of small hills layer on top of each other like a pile of bread rolls in a basket. Off in the distance I see the moon shining on our little farm to the west, it seems so small from here. Feelings try to pull at my heart, now isn’t the time so I stuff them down. I can see scattered black dots throughout the hills, specks of farms. This must be what a bird feels like. I wish I were a bird.

Has it only been three months since we met in the woods? I feel like a lifetime has passed since then. I laugh at myself internally, I still feel like a petty child. My greatest responsibility and turmoil over the past few months have been learning to fight and what to do with my nightstalker. That’s for the best though, I shudder to think of what I would do with any real responsibility.

I glance over to Othin and take in the image of him. I don’t know what I would do without him, in all likelihood I would have snow madness by now. Being in the heart of lune we have to spend all our days indoors because the sun scarcely comes up at all. I feel tension building inside me and count the hours until the world tucks away into bed and I can be free.

Lesedi has kept my secret for now. She says she’s enabling me; I call it helping. Either way she doesn’t trust me and makes sure the door is locked when I leave. She still thinks I’m going to get killed and that I’m an idiot child with no plan. She might be right about that. I wish there was a way she could meet Othin, then she’d see. He’s not like the others. I feel like every cliché in those stories Lesedi reads, but he’s different. I don’t know why or how but he is. But she won’t hear any of it, she only cooperates with me because she knows I’m going to do this anyways. She figures if she doesn’t help me, I’ll get the family killed too.

“I have no need to wish.” Othin turns his eyes from the view to me, a gentle sharp prick of his claws travels down my cheek. “I already have you.”

I smile and feel myself melting into a puddle. I’ve heard men come up with flattering lines and all sorts of beautiful words in order to attract Lesedi. But when Othin speaks, it’s genuine truth, which is far better than any combination of flowery words.

My heart races and I’m unable to take the goofy grin off my face. I never thought I would be like those dim-witted girls I saw at the festivals. The Jile estate is the most extensive in all the outlands, hundreds of years old with each generation continuing its expansion. It’s a palace-like fortress underground.

Through the warm months they like to show off their wealth and security by hosting colorful extravagant galas. Everyone in the outlands gets together to party, most treat it as an opportunity to find a mate and it shows. Many are in a desperate chase to find a bond mate and approach everyone they can, even me once or twice. Last year all I wanted to do was show off my rope juggling and make a little coin maybe, that’s when I broke a pair of ribs.

Lesedi goes for the dancing, she’s more graceful than anyone else, like a bird. The way she can twirl and spin, it’s almost as if her feet don’t even touch the ground at all. It’s like Othin’s stealth, but in an artful manner. She would dance with Alaric or Trigan to avoid the boys, she never had any interest in romance. I remember hearing gossiping women tisk of her being a waste of the beauty she was blessed with.

I have fond memories of those times. Lesedi turned down every young man who came her way. The only propositions she would accept to dance were the kind older gentleman, widowers most of the time. They knew well enough that a dance was only a dance. Zoey raced around with a horde of children and lead them straight through the dance floor. They plowed everyone to the ground except for Lesedi who bounced into the air and spun away as if nothing happened.

Pictures come to my mind of Wren and Trigan dancing slow, regardless of the music tempo, looking deep into each other’s eyes. When together they were the only two people in the world. For some reason, those memories once happy now feel sad to me.

Othin must have noticed my dreamy smile dropping away. “Where did you go?”

I feel water misting at my eyes and I wipe them dry. “Memories. It’s not important.”

I lean over and peck his lips never wanting to pull away. Lesedi was right, our bond is getting stronger, every morning it’s harder to leave him. I want, need, to stay with him; to be with him always. Each time I have to go back home my body begins to ache from the separation. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.

Othin rests a hand on my knee. “Something troubles you. Tell me.”

I put my hands on top of his and squeeze his thin fingers. “What’s our plan?”

He scrunches his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

I gesture to the two of us. “Us. We’re bond mates. We can’t live apart forever. I can’t bring you home to my family. What are we going to do?”

Othin looks away at the picturesque scenery spread out before us. His piercing eyes look at the horizon without seeing it, he’s deep in thought. I’ve noticed that about him; he thinks a lot more than he says. I wish I could know what goes on inside his mind. I can feel it though, like a cloud that radiates from him. I can feel the meaning behind what he's trying to say, it fills in the blanks in a way. I wonder if that's a bond mate thing or a nightstalker thing.

He speaks with a haunted voice. “I am not sure. You cannot live with moon runners. They would murder you.”

I take in a sharp breath at the odd statement. “You mean challenge. In that arena, right? You’ve taught me a lot; I can hold my own I think.”

He flinches. “You cannot.”

I huff with an offended tone. “Why? Because I’m a skysinger?”

Othin pauses again thinking much more than he’s saying. He glances at me with worry and looks away. “No. Not because you are skysinger. Moonrunners bring daypeople back to the clan all the time. It is against the law to kill property.”

My eyes widen and I gasp. “Excuse me? I’m what?!”

Othin waves away the statement and changes the topic. “We will circle back to that. What matters most is harbingers are not to live.”

I frown swallowing my rage, we will certainly circle back to that later. “Right, if we don’t kill each other they’ll do it for us.” I hum for a minute trying to think of a solution. “Ok, so then we hide it.” Not the best solution.

A sharp breath stabs at his chest. “No.” A cloud of resolute refusal billows over him like a dark cloud. “I would rather be struck down.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad. I mean, I know you can’t lie or anything but we-“

A hand reaches out in a flash of movement grabbing at my upper arm. His face pulls in close with a voice that comes out as a painful whisper. “I would need to be cruel to you. It is not worth it.”

I feel like I’ve been hit in the chest with a log, my breath comes in strangled gasps as panic spreads through me like fire. I look out onto the snowy view from our perch in the rohedan tree, I take in a deep breath counting to four, hold it counting to seven, and let it out slow counting to eight. Something Lesedi taught me, her goal was to calm my rage before acting on it, I rarely use it when I’m angry. The velvety blue purple sky stretches out like a blanket. The stars sprinkle across the way like twinkling sunlight on a river, the beauty of it all helps calm my nerves. Though I still feel trapped with the walls closing in.

A strange black blur dodges past the moon, it moves with the blurry speed of an insect and with how far away it is I have no indication of its size. In an instant it’s gone, if I blinked, I would have missed it. What does a flying black smudge matter anyway? Not at all when my world is collapsing in on me.

I turn my attention back to Othin, we have nowhere to go. We can’t live among skysingers, can’t live with nightstalkers. We have no people and no options. Then I look at those red eyes I once thought so monstrous and I know I doesn’t matter; we’ll find a way. Our only option is the outlands. There’s plenty of space where two people can hide away and disappear. Though, we could head to the coast. I remember Lesedi talking about the coral reefs that teem with life, there could be plenty to eat there. We’re strong, we could figure out something.

I take a deep breath. “So, we run away.” It’s not like I’m abandoning much anyway at this point. I’ve already burned my bridges. I have no choice but to move forwards, I just need to pick a direction.

Othin shakes his head and takes my hands in his. There’s a twinkle in those blood red eyes of his. Something mischievous and hopeful. “No. We do not run. We fight.”

✽✽✽

I ball my hands into fists pushing the tension from my body into my white knuckled fingers. If Lesedi knew what I’m doing she wouldn’t sleep through the night, I’ll tell her tomorrow. If I survive. Othin and I walk in silence, there are no words he can say to comfort me. He can’t even rest a hand on my shoulder because there are eyes everywhere and we can’t show weakness. I have to be strong and brave, not just brave; I have to be fearless.

I take in a slow calming breath and bring memories to mind. Othin’s hand in mine. The shimmering crystal lake laid out before me under a velvet starry sky. The water was frozen over with spindly icy patterns spreading across the surface. Brightwings flitted across the ice like shimmering dust carried on the wind. The pale pink glow from their wings reflected along the ice until the swarm rushed toward us. My mouth hung open as a swarm of glowing pink encircled us.

I shake out of my memory to see Othin tilting his head at me. “You smile?”

I shrug. “I was just remembering when you took me to crystal lake.”

A grin spreads across his face. “I prefer when I took you at crystal lake.”

I smack him in the shoulder and roll my eyes. He lets out a low chuckle. I glance up at him, his shaggy white mane falls in a mess all around his shoulders. I see the glints of his red eyes from behind a thin veil of hair. I giggle, it makes him look childish in a way. Like when Zoey runs through the wildflowers and her hair turns into a mangled mess. But today isn’t a day to look cute.

I stop and pull the leather tie from my hair, Othin pauses scrunching his eyebrows with confusion. I hold it up demonstrating how it works. One strip of leather bends in half with a wooden bead holding the two ends together. I slide the bead up and down the leather, knots tied at the ends keep it from sliding off at the end. After I’m sure he understands I place the hair accessory into his large warm hands.

He frowns. “A gift?”

I smile. “Sure.”

He looks at it as if it’s a precious gem, and not a trinket my sister made. He nods and sighs. “Moonrunners do not accept gifts. To trade and have nothing to offer in return is pathetic.”

I frown placing a hand on my hip. “Yeah well moonrunners don’t shack up with day people either. Come here.”

I tug on his shoulders and he drops to a knee in front of me. I do my best to smooth out his hair with my fingers. Using my little fingers, I separate the top half of his hair and pull that back into a tail with the leather. I do some more smoothing so that the lower half of his hair drapes around his shoulders. It’s still as frizzy as mine, but better.

He stands back up and tilts his head at me again. “Why?”

I shake my head. “You’re about to enter your village with a skysinger on your arm. I thought you should look a bit more, um, commanding.”

He gestures up to his hair. “Did it work?”

It helped at least. With half his hair pulled back I can see his face more than I ever do. I can see his stone smooth skin that stretches over angular sharp features. His cheekbones are high and pointed, they complement his square jaw and pointed chin. Every aspect of his face is pointed or pronounced in some way. Even his eyebrows draw down in over his eyes giving them an angular look. Overall, it makes him look quite terrifying. It may be love blinding me, but I shiver with how handsome he is, to me.

I nod. “I think so. At least, it’s better.”

He draws his eyebrows together forming a thinking wrinkle in between. “There must be something I can give you in return.”

I laugh, nightstalkers are so strange, though that’s not surprising. I pat him on the chest looking up at him. “Tell you what, keep me alive in there and we’ll call it even.”

Any levity leaves him and his face gains a mask of solemnity. He nods with silence as we push forwards. We go back to walking in tense silence, but it’s a bit better now. My heart thumps in my chest and I take deep breaths to keep it from racing. I keep my eyes looking forward trying to not get distracted by the incredible sights of the forest at night. It seems the deeper in we go, the more that glows.

Moongrass glows in dark blue patches throughout the floor, Othin says it changes color during lune. Lesedi would know why, I should ask her later. Bright green geckle grows in glowing circles around trees with sprigs of yellow mushrooms popping up through the mulch. Coming up close I can see a strong green glow emanating from the tree canopy.

As we get closer the lights get brighter and I see the glow is coming from vines that consume the rope bridges connecting the upper village. Circular houses built around the trunks cling to the enormous rohedan trees. Ropes hang from the canopy and I see figures swing across them. Bridges connect platforms and houses from all angles and height differences. The glowing tendrils devour it all. This is the nightstalker village and it is so much more than I ever thought it would be.

I’ve imagined what a nightstalker village would look like. In all honesty I thought it would just be some muddy huts on the forest floor. I never got close enough to see it though. This is so much more than anyone could have guessed. I remember skulking through these woods a few months back, might as well be a lifetime ago. Now I know I was looking for Othin, maybe he’s right and the moon mother put us together, maybe it was father sky. None of it seems to matter as I take my first step into the border of the village.

It sounds almost like a party is going on, though the “singing’ is more of a raspy chanting with occasional shrieks. I can hear oovak tones in the background, nightstalkers dance on them like musical instruments. Though there’s no rhythm or order to the sounds they play. Above me the tree village looms with silhouettes leaning over the bridges to glance and hiss at us.

We walk down what feels like an informal road passing bodies of gray. A sea of glowing red eyes hiss and shriek at us as we walk forwards. I gulp back tears of terror and panic. I’ve become so accustomed to Othin, I’ve forgotten what monsters these people can be. So much rage and rabid violence in their eyes, though that’s probably due to their mortal enemy in their midst.

I can feel waves of fury washing from them, they feel betrayed and outraged. They want to cut us to pieces right here and now. Why don’t they?

Othin squeezes my hand. “It will be alright. I promise you.”

Before I can respond a body drops from above landing in our path. The body chuckles and shrieks lifting its eyes to meet ours. The creature speaks with a raspy deep tone that almost doesn’t sound like a voice. “Can you?”

Othin gives me a gentle push to take a step behind him. “Away Terat! You will not touch her.”

Terat growls as he leans towards Othin. “I will.”

He tilts his head while almost trembling with fury. He looks past Othin and straight into me, I gasp. The left eye is white and scarred, it looks milky and useless. No, is this the same one? The one I hurt not once but twice a few months ago? My body tenses with palpable fear, I know he can sense it.

Deep sickening cackles escape his chest. “She knows me.”

Othin juts forward eyes pulled into a death dealing glare. “You will go through me.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Like the others?”

I frown. What others? Othin shakes his head. “I am within my rights. I claimed this daypeople.”

Terat stalks towards the right trying to find a way to snatch his prey. Othin reaches his arms back into a protective stance and turns keeping his front to the creature. His eyes are focused on the predator and he refuses to let him through. I try to still my breathing, Othin will protect me. He always does, even if it means killing his own. Risking his life. He’ll protect me.

My feet drop out from under me and my back hits cold hard ground. I feel brush and stones being dragged along my bare back as my tunic rolls up to my shoulders. Hands grip my ankles as I’m being pulled away from the safety of Othin’s protection. I hear a yell bellow through the forest trees and it’s combated by screams, hunter screams.

My heart is thumping so hard I feel like it’s going to break my ribs. I can see their plan laid bare, drag me away and stash me somewhere. While Othin is distracted Terat will try to get away somehow, meet up with his cohort, and kill me before he can be stopped. I need to think; I don’t have time to think. I need to act. Now!

I lift my head to try to see who’s doing this. I see the backs of two nightstalkers, each one holds one of my ankles. Their bare skin reflects the myriad of lights from glowing foliage throughout the woods. Nightstalkers are strong, fast, and durable, but they are hindered by their arrogance. They won’t for a second think I can fight back, but once I do, I have to be successful or I’ll lose the upper hand.

Fighting against the bumps in the ground I keep getting dragged across I reach down to unclip my meteor hammer, I’m so glad I brought it. I’m also glad that Othin has been helping me to improve my combat ability with it. I take a deep breath; I need to disable them before we reach wherever we’re going. My best chance is to get back to Othin, there’s no way I can make it back home from here.

I move the silken rope into my left hand and hold the studded ball with my right. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, it doesn’t help, so I throw the ball anyway. My right hand heaves the ball forwards, I can see reflections of light in its metal. As it sails through the air past their heads, I pull on the rope yanking it back towards me which sends it crashing into the head of one nightstalker. The nightstalker shrieks and falls letting go of one ankle.

The ball sails back towards me, I reach my right hand up to take the sash and with a small twist I throw the ball back into action. But now the surprise is blown. The remaining nightstalker turns to face me and instead of another skull I hit it in the abdomen. The creature shrieks with pain and drops my ankle, but is still very much on its feet.

My feet thud to the ground and as they touch the forest floor I immediately bolt into a run. Twisting my hand around the rope I yank the ball towards me as I dash. The forest goes by in a blur of illumination as I try to get my bearings. I’ve never been this deep into the woods before, I don’t know where I am. I don’t know where the village is. But, fortunate for me nightstalkers are loud when they’re angry, the village sounds livid.

I race towards the sounds of screaming even though I want nothing more than to run away home. But I can’t. I can feel the nightstalker chasing me through the brush and I know I won’t outrun it. My only chance is to make it back to Othin, and hope he’s still alive. No, he’s alive. I know it. I just need to get back to him.

Racing towards the sounds, the powerful green glow lights up the trees and becomes a beacon. My breath catches, how do I find Othin? How do I know I’m not racing into a trap of more nightstalkers? I don’t, I could be running to more death, but I have to do something. I don’t need to look behind me to know the nightstalker is right behind me, at least I slowed it with a hammer to the gut. What do I do now? Do I finish it off? Kill it?

I pull to mind what Othin’s taught me, if I’m going to kill someone it needs to be fast and efficient. No playing around. With one foot racing in front of the other I pull my hammer out again with trembling fingers. No, I don’t have time for nerves and trembling. I need to finish this, end it, it’s that simple. I push my force into a jump vaulting into the air spinning around to face my pursuer.

I pull on the rope using the momentum of my body as I fall through the air to bring the ball down hard onto the nightstalker. It makes contact with the top of the head, the body crumples to the ground and I don’t bother to look at it. My stomach turns and I force myself to not vomit.

My legs break into another run, without the pressure of a pursuer I skirt around the perimeter of the village instead of bolting straight for the middle. I need to find Othin, but I need to do so without letting others know where I am. I feel sick to my stomach; this isn’t how this was supposed to go. But at the same time, this isn’t at all surprising.

Coming around a bend of bushes I halt and crouch down. I see ahead of me a clearing that resembles the road we had been travelling on. I see a group of nightstalkers hunched with rage as they burn glares into another one being held back by two others. Othin! I feel myself lurch forwards, but I stop. I need to be smart about this, I need a plan. If I charge out there I can just as easy be hauled away again.

Terat taunts Othin as more of his conspirators keep him detained. They’ve bent his arms behind his back and kicked his legs out from under him. Othin kneels on the road being pressed down as Terat speaks to both him and the crowd of onlookers.

“Betrayer!” Terat barks. “Daypeople conspiracy! You kill moonrunners for weaklings.” He paces back and forth making a show of his words to everyone that can see. “We kill the daypeople pet! No daypeople escapes!”

Cheers and shrieking agreement roars from the crowd. Terat steps closer to Othin and punches him in the face. I flinch. “Hold him. I will kill the daypeople, then I will see him in the arena.”

Othin roars as his body lurches forward to attack Terat. But as he flails forwards, he’s stopped short by the much bigger nightstalkers holding him down. “No! Leave her alone!”

Terat shakes his head laughing. “Pathetic!” Laughter cackles from the crowd, but it doesn’t sound like laughter I’ve heard. “Tonight, you fall Othin. I will cut you down.”

The laughter screeches into the air and then cuts off with a sharp silence. Another nightstalker emerges from the crowd and enters the clearing. This one is much taller than Othin, it is also more muscular and broader shouldered. It wears a kind of black armor with a brilliant white fur cape draping behind every step. This has to be the leader, Wikon, Othin talked about him. I’m impressed by his appearance, I imagined a nightstalker leader to look more savage. But this one has an air of dignity and authority about himself. His hair is smooth and brushed back, it blends into his fur cape. His chin is lifted high and he holds himself differently than all the others.

Wikon stomps his staff into the ground. “What is this?!” He blares.

Terat spins around and straightens his back. “Othin, he betrays us.”

The leader grabs his staff in both hands and slams it into Terat’s side. The nightstalker groans and stumbles backward before straightening his body again. Wikon doesn’t break composure for a second. “The daypeople is his property. He has every right to bring it here.”

I grit my teeth, I hate this. I know it’s just for show for the others, but I don’t like the idea of anyone thinking I’m property. Especially since our plan is to be part of these people, though at this point that seems like a bad idea. But if they only see me as Othin’s property that means I will always be reliant on him for protection from them. No, I need to rise above this. I don’t care if this is their way, it isn’t mine.

Terat tilts his head fuming with rage. “The daypeople took my eye. I will-“

Wikon cuts him off. “You will do nothing. You may take to the arena to fight for the property. If you win it, it is yours to do with as you wish.”

Othin shouts into the madness. “No! She’s-“

A crack of the staff against a tree. “Silence! Let him go, Terat can challenge for right to property. It is within Othin’s right to claim it, it is also within Terat’s to take it. But only by arena.”

No, I won’t let him fight for me. I know the arena is to the death, I can’t let him do that. There’s so much of this that’s wrong. I feel a storm building within me and I can’t let this happen. I step out from behind my bush and charge into the clearing. I don’t have a plan, I never do, but I have to do something.

I see Othin smile upon seeing I’m alright. I don’t smile back; I know what I’m about to say. This is a bad idea, my worst idea. But I find myself doing it anyway. I turn to face Wikon and try to mimic his powerful attitude as much as I can. I have to be strong, or at least make them think I’m strong. “I am no one’s property.”

Wikon frowns and I can feel his frustration. He’s clearly trying to defuse the situation and I’m making things more complicated. “All daypeople are. You have been-“

I cut him off, which elicits gasps from the crowd. “No. I challenge Terat. I will claim my own self by way of arena.”

Othin shouts as he rushes to me. “No!” He grabs my shoulders looking down into my eyes. “Talea you cannot!”

Terat laughs with a gleeful smile. “I accept!”

I hear Othin lose his breath. His hands move up to cup my face. “Talea, what have you done?”

I maintain my composure as best as I can, but inside I’m trembling. “Somebody has to fight him.”

He bends his knees lowering himself to press his forehead against mine. He whispers. “But I could beat him. I could fight him and defeat him.”

I reach up and pinch his chin. “Who’s to say I can’t? You taught me well.”

“But-“

I cut him off and break his embrace. “I need to do this. They need to see me as a person, not a thing. I can’t be a slave even in name Othin.”

He rubs his forehead with his left hand, his right is shaking. There’s no way out, once a challenge has been issued there is no going back. I’m doing this. I’m fighting a nightstalker one on one, in the arena, with no weapons. Arena rules state all duels must be hand to hand combat. Usually both opponents have claws and teeth at their disposal, I’m defenseless compared to Terat.

Wikon claps his staff against the tree again. “To the arena!”

The crowd cheers, it’s not often they have the prospect of a skysinger being torn apart in their arena. Nerves shake within my entire body; I clench my hands into tight fists. To the arena.

✽✽✽

The arena is a large circle of posts with rope tied to them forming a circle. The deepest center of the village teems with the densest amount of growth. Moongrass grows in a thick carpet like the pelt of a yar. It grows thickest and glows the brightest on the floor of the arena, I gulp noticing that. I remember Lesedi telling me moon grass is a scavenger plant, it absorbs and breaks down dead bodies for nourishment.

I stand next to a stretch of rope with Othin beside me. Wikon ducks under the rope to stand in the middle ready to proclaim the match. A pair of hands clutch me by the forearms to make sure I don’t run away. Othin stands beside me, also restrained, I turn to look at the man I love. He’s terrified. Even if I couldn’t feel it, I could tell, he’s about to go mad with blind fear.

His voice is low. “I will kill them all right here and now if you want to run. There is no shame in it.”

I smile and let out a sigh with a shake of my head. “No Othin. I need to do this. I know you don’t get it, but that’s ok. I just, I need to do this.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “Fine. Remember what I taught you. Do not fight, kill. Kill as soon as you can.”

I bite my lip and furrow my brows. How do I kill someone with no weapons? As if in answer to my question I feel Othin’s lips by my ear, he whispers to ensure no one else can hear. “Break his neck. Succeed. You will have only one chance.”

Before being able to respond a masked nightstalker pushes me under the rope into the arena. Othin’s falls away from me and I feel hollow, but I can’t think about that now. I look forward and walk of my own will into the arena, ducking under the rope and planting my feet into the soft grass. They made me remove my boots and most of my clothing in case I was hiding weapons. We skysingers can’t be trusted.

A cold breeze nips at my skin, I wear nothing beside my underwear. I guess it’s a good thing I remembered to wear them today. Terat steps into the arena in front of me, he stares me down with a hard glare. He seems bigger now, or I’m scared out of my mind. His thin lips curl into a smirk, in his mind I’m already dead. A small part of me agrees with him.

Wikon raises his staff and projects a loud firm voice to the crowd, his words even travel up into the treetops to be heard by those looking down from above. “Tonight, we have a special occasion.” His words are responded to with hoots and cheering. “No daypeople has ever before fought in this arena. The law must be clarified. We fight for strength and survival. We fight as moonrunners of the blood bane. We fight to earn our place. If this daypeople wins the challenge-“ He’s interrupted by booing, but with one hard glance it stops. “She will join the Blood Bane and be one of the clan.”

Hissing and screeches start up again. Before Wikon can hush the crowd Terat speaks up. “She will not win!” He adds a loud belly laugh and the crowd joins him. Fantastic.

Wikon nods to each of us. “The fight is to the death only. There is no surrender. Moon Mother give you strength.” With that he steps backward and leaves the ring of slaughter.

Terat smiles as he charges towards me with his claws raised ready to slice me apart. His feet push against the surprising strength of the moon grass as the glow makes shaky shadows on his skin. My heart races, this is happening, I’m in the worst nightmare of every skysinger alive. In terrified instinct I grab my head and drop to the grass allowing his claws to miss me by a handspan.

I hear a thunderous laugh. “It is like fighting a child!”

Hysterical nightstalkers shriek and laugh in response. It’s not enough for me to win this, as if that’s not asking too much already. I need to show my strength, my courage, I need to show them all that I belong here. That I can be as much of a monster as they are.

“Get up daypeople! You make this too easy.” He taunts me with his sickening laughter.

I feel a rage boil within me, like fire moving through my veins my skin flushes with warmth. I will not let him kill me; I will destroy him. I am a force to be reckoned with and I will show that to all of them. I stand up again keeping my nerves at bay. I will not give him fear, I will give him rage and ferocity.

I take a deep breath and the images come back to me, everything that Othin has taught me these months falls back into place. This is why he taught me hand to hand combat, this is why he was so hard on me, it comes to this moment. He wanted me to hold my own against a nightstalker, and I will.

I feint left and as Terat begins to respond I dart to the right. I bend under his arms and pop up by his left side, bending my arm and bracing my fists I ram my left elbow into his ribs. I hear a crack and a shriek. In a raging flail he spins and swipes at me with his claws. I feel sharp tearing start at my left shoulder joint and rip down across my chest. The pain is deep and the cuts are bleeding. I can’t think about that now; I need to win.

Before I have a chance to think about my next move, he kicks me in the stomach with his powerful legs. It sends me stumbling backwards into the rope. My hands grip the rope to hold myself up, I feel nauseated and my body reels from pain. I can’t help it; I turn to the side and vomit. More laughing rings in my ears.

I glance over and I see Othin, he’s being held in place by two large nightstalkers wearing masks. He’s trying hard to not make a scene but he’s fighting against them. He wants to interfere and save me but he can’t, only I can save me. My fate rests on my shoulders.

I try to form a plan of attack, but he’s too fast. Too strong. Planning has never been my strong suit. Terat charges me at the rope, I plant my feet into the grass and throw myself into a tumble to roll away and dodge. I pop back onto my feet, my stomach reels but I force myself to ignore it. Break his neck. I need to find a way to break his neck. But every plan I come up with will end in failure.

He begins another charge towards me. I bolt towards him and flip into the air, if I can get above him maybe I can grab his neck and snap it. I scream. Terat catches me in midair by the claw. My body is thrown to the grass with a thunder clap of laughter echoing around me. I lay on my back and see my enemy leaning over me, his claw is buried deep into my right shoulder, he nearly tore the arm off at its joint. He pulls back his arm and rips the claws from me, I scream again.

My right hand feels tingly and my arm feels limp. No, I will not fail. I cannot fail. I try to summon my right arm, but it has no strength and won’t work. Blood pours down my pale skin and drips into the glowing grass. Where the blood falls the glow intensifies.

Terat takes a victory lap around the arena showing off the crowd. “No daypeople can win! Weak!” He circles back towards me. “You cannot win daypeople.”

No. The fire inside me flushes with rage, I feel like something breaks inside me. Like a wall keeping back floodwaters that breaks after being constrained for too long. I will not let him beat me, kill me, mock me. More than that, I will kill him. I want to kill him. I want it more than anything else, I need to kill him more than I need breath itself.

The fire burns within me and I feel a heated rage blaze from my eyes. I hear gasps and shrieks all around, I ignore them. They do not matter. Killing him does, only killing him does. Letting the dead arm fall limp to my side I pull myself to my feet. Terat is afraid. Why is he afraid? It doesn’t matter, he needs to die.

Terat yells as he takes a step back “What is this?! What are you?!”

No plan scrolls through my mind, no steps, only instinct and action. Planting my left leg in place I kick with my right and hear a crack as his knee breaks and bends backwards. His legs crumple. He glares as he swipes at me with his claws, I take a gash to the side but I don’t feel the pain. Othin’s training couples with an instinct that’s consuming me, I leap into the air spinning and bring a hard kick down into the right side of his face. His head spins and I turn on my heels to bring my other leg up and kick again in the same spot. CRACK.

Terat falls lifeless into the grass, dead. The forest is silent with hundreds of red eyes staring back at me. I stand in the arena above my kill with my breath heaving.

Wikon enters the arena and takes hold of my bleeding good arm raising it above my head. “The winner! She is now one of the clan. Do any of you dare to argue this?” He’s met with stunned silence. “She carries the blood of us and the eyes to prove it. Welcome to our clan, Talea the halfmoon.”

Halfmoon? I can’t think about that right now, it takes everything I have to keep standing up. But I can’t collapse now, not in front of them. Strength, I have to show them I’m as strong as they are. I walk across the arena leaving my opponent’s body to the moongrass. I attempt to bend under the rope but I wince from the pain shooting up my body. Then the rope is pulled up for me, Othin stands there offering me his hand.

I shake my head and walk under the rope. Wikon stands on a platform built above a glowing purple pond, on top of the platform is an elaborate white tent. He waves me to him. It’s the closest to me, seems like a good idea. My mind feels blurry and disoriented but I take one step after another. Othin follows close behind but I refuse to accept his assistance in the eyes of everyone watching. I will not look weak now.

I almost fall through the tent flap and find myself inside what looks like living quarters. Securely inside my legs fall out from under me. Othin catches me and helps me hobble over to a pile of cushions. I hear them saying things but the words feel distant and garbled.

I hear Wikon’s voice shout “Shado, stop the bleeding!”

I hear Othin, he’s angry. “You said she would be safe!”

I flutter open my eyes to see Wikon flash a glare at Othin. “I did not know she would challenge Terat! There was nothing I could do!”

Othin’s voice again. “This was not the way to tell her.”

“She was going to find out tonight anyway. She has to.” Wikon sighs and presses something to my body. “Why have you not told her? She needs to know.”

“I do not know how. The words, I-” My eyes shut and flutter open again to see tears in Othin’s eyes.

Wikon shakes his head. “Failure Othin. You should have told her she is moonrunner, trained her instincts. She would have fought better.”

Othin hangs his head. “I was afraid.”

I frown. Wait. What? My voice comes out muffled and weak. “What do you mean?”

I try to sit up but Wikon pushes me back down. “Later, rest now.”

I shake my head and push back against him sitting up. No, I will not be told what to do. I’ve come this far and deserve to know what’s going on. Wikon rolls his eyes and snaps at someone else in the room. My vision is getting fuzzy. Someone hands him a mirror, he turns it and holds it up to me.

Through my blurring darkening vision, I can see my face. My eyes are a blazing red. I’m a nightstalker.