Of Fire and Fury (Book 1: Light-Born Series)

Chapter 16 - Stone

For all her lack of skills, Rabid was brave; and that alone was nothing like any Napua Stone had ever heard of. Not only was she brave, but she was ravenous. In the few weeks since she had awoken from her stupor, she had spent every waking moment learning to fight. When the others stopped for breaks and grew tired, she pestered them with questions. At night, when they returned to their teepee, she begged Stone to hold her in challenging positions as she worked to break out of them. He had never seen someone soak up so much knowledge in such a short amount of time. Her need to continue on seemed insatiable.

Stone watched Rabid fingering a knife Akecheta had given to her. It was a beautiful weapon, the hilt fashioned from an elk antler, the blade carved from pale grey stone from the river. Her fingers grazed the pointed edges, then she sliced the air with it, moving the way Stone had taught her. Looking up, she saw Stone watching, and her cheeks turned red.

“You’ve learned a lot these few weeks.” He said. She smiled and tucked the blade into the skins she had been packing.

“I have nothing better to do.” She said, but her blush deepened. A thrill ran through Stone that he could make her react like that with only a compliment. Rabid cleared her throat and changed the subject.

“I am excited to travel out of Omarihom, today.” She said. 

“Good. It is a great honor that my father is allowing you to see our sacred site.” Stone nodded.

“Tell me the story of yours.” She said, tying strings around the sack of possessions she had readied for the journey.

“Surely you’ve heard the stories, even as a Napua child?” Stone asked, finishing his own packing as he spoke. Rabid nodded knowingly, remembering their shared history of war and invasion, before the clans had split apart.

“Well, when the world was unified, and we all fought together as one, the Omari lead the armies. We had the power of the warrior, the Ravener. During the battle against the Tirk’s and the Honu, when they joined forces and tried to take our clan lands, Wayna led us to victory. But we did not win without cost. Hundreds died in the fields below the mountains, just outside of Omarihom. After the battle, to remember them, our people carved the tombs from the caves in the mountains, and buried them there. And when any of our great and powerful warriors fell in battle, that is where we buried them. Salma Veth is what we call it.”

“Salma Veth…” Rabid murmered, trying to understand the old tongue. “Something… death?”

“That’s right.” Stone nodded, approvingly. “The Valley of Death. After the m******e that happened just below it."

“This was not what made the sight sacred, though. After the clans split apart, and our people were hunted down for the role they played, they took refuge inside the tombs. Our chief had been killed, our people scattered, and the chief’s son, Flecha, was hiding there. While he was in hiding, he was met by the Great One. He saw a vision of the clans reuniting, and a great victory that would bring peace back to the land. He saw one person who would be light born, just like Queen Khaya had been, and they would wield this power for the good of Minaloa. Afterward, when he had built Omarihom and brought our people back together, he had marked it as a sacred site.”

Stone paused, reveling in the thought of such an encounter: an encounter he craved to his very core. The sacred sites were a tangible connection to the past, the memory of the Great Spirit who had once guided their people with power. But it had been a long time since the Great One had communed with the people. Too long, for many. Many of the tribes had given up on the spirits altogether. Now, the Omari travelled to pray only out of tradition. Only Stone held the hope of a future unification close to his heart.

“I do not even know where Napuahom’s is. We never spoke of it. Now I wish I had learned more before it was too late.” Rabid said, sighing heavily. “I guess it doesn’t matter, though, there is no power there anymore.”

Stone eyed her for a second. He hated seeing the way her shoulders slumped in sadness. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he cautiously said, 

“There is still power in the world, Rabid.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, hope flickering like lights behind her eyes.

“The Great One has not abandoned us as many think he has.” He said, watching her intently, trying to determine if she could be trusted. He didn’t speak of such things to many people, especially not his tribesman.

“How do you know?” Rabid asked, her brown eyes wide with curiosity.

“When I told you that something inside of me told me to say yes to you…” Stone paused, not understanding why it took so much strength to talk about—why it was so hard to tell her something that might make her laugh in his face. “It was the Great One’s voice I heard, who told me to take you.”

Rabid laughed, the sound making Stone freeze. Then, she seemed to realize his sincerity. Her eyes widened, and she glanced around. 

“Stone, that’s…” she fumbled for the right word.

“I know, it makes me sound like a lunatic.” Stone conceded, sighing heavily. “But, trust me, I’m not. Many moons ago, I travelled to Salma Veth alone. I was in pain, much like you are now. I stayed there for days, crying, cursing, searching for anything that would help me. Something happened to me there that I cannot explain. But now, I hear that voice as clearly as I hear yours.”

Rabid sat silently, staring intently at him. She had lost her voice and simply looked at him, undoubtedly trying to assess whether he had gone crazy. Stone swallowed and looked away. He clenched his jaw and sighed heavily through his nostrils. He couldn’t take the thought of her thinking he was crazy, especially not about this.

“Let’s go.” He said, grabbing his pack and heading out of the teepee without another word. Rabid followed silently behind.

The small group of Omari were already packed and waiting for them. Chief Blood Wolf brought Akecheta and White Hawk for protection, and Kizi to perform the prayers. Rabid was only accompanying them because Stone had insisted. The group was already mounting their horses as Stone and Rabid walked through the trees.

“Rabid! My name is Kizi.” Kizi said, smiling warmly. She leaned down to grasp Rabid’s hand. Her thick black hair was free of its usual braids, and hung in flowing waves down her back. Her smile was infectious. Then, seeing Stone’s confusion at her presence, she said.

“Red Moon is far too old for this sort of thing, so she sends me in her place.” 

“Do I need to tell you that this is a deeply guarded secret?” Chief Blood Wolf c****d an eyebrow in Rabid’s direction.

“No, chief.” She said humbly, pulling herself up onto Talia’s back.

Without further comment, the pack moved out. The orange, red and green of the leaves around them flooded past as they rode through the morning light. They travelled west, riding hard, until the sun was directly overhead. As they entered a large clearing, Chief Blood Wolf held up his hand and brought them to a walk to give the horses a break. A calm breeze settled around them, lifting the smells of sweat and earth from their noses. Stone glanced back to look at Rabid, still unsure of her riding ability, but she was grinning from ear to ear, her face flushed and eyes beaming with excitement. The sight warmed his heart.

As they rode, the calm of the morning was quickly shattered by a thick tension. Stone looked around, feeling something in the air. In a matter of moments, their easy journey was over. Rheo snorted uncomfortably, his legs dancing beneath him. Rabid’s childlike grin fell as her eyes locked on to something, whizzing through the air. White Hawk yelled as the arrow was lodged in his thigh. Within moments, there was a flurry of movement.

“Get down!” Chief Blood Wolf yelled.

“Get off!” Stone yelled back to Rabid, who scrambled quickly off Talia’s back. Several more arrows flew from the thick brush a few hundred paces to the right. Three barely missing another body as the horses were tugged into the safety of the nearby trees.

White Hawk grunted and hobbled, blood already soaking through his hide pants. He leaned against a tree, grimacing in pain. Akecheta, with a quick yank, pulled the arrow from his leg and examined the tip.

“Hauks.” He said, throwing the arrow down in disgust. “No wonder they barely hit anything.”

As Stone peered around the tree, he felt Rabid’s body appear beside him.

“How many do you see?” he asked, might as well use the opportunity for training. She squinted past him, focusing hard.

“I don’t see anyone…” she said, still staring hard. “Oh! Wait! There!” she said, pointing further to the right than where the arrows had appeared. Four men were running next to the tree line and coming their way.

“Time to put that training to use!” Akecheta yelled, a giant grin breaking out on his face as he brandished two long daggers. His face was wild with the anticipation of killing Hauks.

Chief Blood Wolf said nothing but pulled a knife from his belt as well. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes narrowed. White Hawk remained against the tree. Stone threw him his bow from his horse’s back, and then resumed his place next to Rabid.

“Are you ready?” he asked. Her wide eyes had not left the men coming their way. Stone grabbed her shoulder, shaking her slightly. “Rabid!”

He grabbed the elk-handled dagger from her pack and pressed the smooth surface into her palm. Her gaze shifted to the blade, then to Stone, and she nodded. It was then, ready or not, that a huge man burst through the trees before her. 

He was clad in thick leather and fur rimmed boots, with a metal helmet around his head that had curved horns that shot off on either side. His thick red beard was in braids, hanging down to his waste. Letting out a yell, he waved a metal sword above his head. An arrow from White Hawk’s bow lodged perfectly in his throat. As the man staggered and fell, three others took his place. Then, whatever new excitement had filled the Omari faded. All the training they had took over, and they went back to what they knew: survive.

Stone threw Rabid behind him as a young man leapt toward her, scratching her shoulder with his blade before Stone’s foot kicked his stomach. The boy stumbled, but quickly recovered. Shifting his knife to his weak hand, Stone grabbed the hatchet from his belt. The Hauk swung, and as Stone blocked the blow with his knife, he landed the hatchet just below the man’s armpit. The man screeched in pain, making one more feeble attempt to swing his metal. Stone easily dodged, and then swung the hatchet hard into the man’s bare forehead. 

The smell of blood filled the air, so thick that it seemed to be hanging off the trees.

Stone glanced around, each Omari man was fighting their own man, except Rabid, who still stood in shock behind Stone, and White Hawk, who released expert arrows from his place against the tree. Rabid was not so useful. Her knife was held before her but her eyes were locked on the dead man that had fallen at her feet. A new man appeared out of the trees, knocking her to the ground. His knife flew toward her. Before Stone could intercept him, his attention was drawn to a boy who lept from the brush. His blonde hair was long and tangled, clinging to his sweaty neck. He lunged foreward, but his obvious inexperience was no match for Stone.

He swung, Stone dodged. Again, he swung, but his heavy blade was too slow. When Stone dodged this time, he kicked the side of his knee inward. c***k! The boy screamed as he dropped his sword. But as Stone raised his hatchet, Rabid’s own cry caught his attention. He turned, seeing the man was on top of her, his thick muscles pressing a knife toward her throat. She was pushing back with all her strength, but was barely holding him off. Quickly, Stone threw his hatchet into the man’s side. It lodged in the thick leather, not doing much damage but giving Rabid enough time to wriggle from his grasp and knock him to the ground. She jumped on top of him, her knees in his chest, her own blade pressing against his throat. She had a clear chance, but she sat frozen as she stared at the man beneath her.

Rabid had pulled all of Stone’s attention, and he had almost entirely forgotten about the boy in front of him. A piercing pain flooded his body as the boy waved his knife wildly, trying desperately to find more flesh in Stone’s abdomen. Stone jumped back, his clothes thoroughly soaked with blood.

“Rabid! Kill him!” Stone yelled, as he kicked the knife from the boys hand and raised his own. 

“Stone, stop!” Rabid’s voice caught his hand just before he plunged his blade into the boys chest. The boy cowered below him, eyes wide with terror. Blood covered a hand that he held in front of his face, as if he could catch the blade and save his own life. The adrenaline pounded in Stone’s ears so loud that he was surprised he had even heard Rabid.

He turned to look at her, blood trickling down his nose. Blood covered her tunic as well, and dripped along her face. Her hair was wild and sticking to her temples, her frame shuddering heavily as she sucked in deep breaths—the man beneath her lay dead. Behind her, the Omari had the upper hand. This would be over soon.

Stone looked at Rabid, her eyes flickered back and forth between Stone and the boy. He felt an anger welling up inside of him.

“He’s only a boy.” She said quietly, shaking her head.

The battle had dampened Stone’s usual restraint, and his blood became like fire about to boil over inside of him. 

“What?” he spat, so livid he could barely speak. Seeing his opportunity, the boy beneath him tried to scramble out of his reach along the ground. Stone kicked him down again while his eyes stayed fixed on Rabid.

“You would let him go?” he said, straightening and stepping toward her. His eyes were dangerously narrow. Fury, and something else, was building inside of him. He imagined her dying on the battlefield—trying to spare life, to be kind. Her Napua blood coming out and getting herself killed. He shook the image from his mind.

“Do you think he would pause for you?” Stone roared again. Rabid had lost her voice, she simply stared wide eyed as Stone stalked over the boy and grabbed his shoulder, throwing him back onto the ground in front of her. He grabbed him by his blonde hair and held a blade to his throat.

“Stone…” she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Do you know what he would do to you? What they have already done to us?”

As they stood, Stone staring intently and Rabid flickering back and forth between the two men, Stone didn’t see the Hauk boy had found a blade on the ground. Wrapping his fingers around it, he took a deep breath, and swung upward. But Rabid saw him quicker, and she kicked the boy to the ground just as White Hawk sent an arrow into his back. 

The quick interaction made Stone even more angry. He stepped forward until he was only a few inches from Rabid’s face.

“Do you see what kindness would bring to you here?” he said, his voice little more than a growl.

“I know…” she stammered.”But…”

“Akecheta was right.” Stone cut her off. “This is no place for a Napua girl.”

Rabid’s face changed immediately into a deep a furious grimace. 

“I am not Napua. I never was.” Rabid spat back at him, she shoved him hard against the chest knocked him away from her. “But I am not Omari. Not bloodthirsty, like you.”

Later, he would realize, that it was all misplaced fury: his protective nature, his need to ensure her safety. But the battle had dampened his resolve, and he couldn’t shove the words back down. Fighting and adrenaline had drug it all out. He felt, suddenly, as though all the emotion he had tucked so neatly away inside of him was boiling over, and he couldn’t control it anymore.

“Not Omari? Then you are nothing.” he spat at her. “There are no more Napua to cower behind, Rabid. This,” he raised his hands to the blood and the bodies around them. “This is all there is now.”

Rabid glanced around. The rest of the Omari had ceased their fighting, they watched warily from several paces away, trying to pretend that they didn’t see what was happening.

“I think I would rather be nothing.” Rabid said, her fire rivaling his own. Stone could feel that his rage was loose—this is what he had always been afraid of. This is why he kept it all shoved down, so he didn’t do stupid things. But her need for mercy was sparking this fire, and his fear of not being able to protect her was the wood.

He couldn’t watch her die like Alea, he would rather die himself.

Rabid tried to stalk past him, but he caught the edge of her shirt, spinning her until she was a few inches from his face.

“You go be nothing, Rabid. But do it without me.” Stone dropped his voice, so that his tribesmen couldn’t here.

“What does that mean?” Rabid’s voice caught slightly, her eyes brimming with tears.

“I’ve been to easy on you. This…” he motioned between them. “This has distracted me. So I’m done pretending we are something we’re not.”

“Ah. So, now I see this great Omari honor you spoke of.” Rabid spat, her words came low and quiet, but they still hit him hard in the chest. “Black Bird told me what you said to the people to make them help you. Still, you would turn your back on your word to me?”

“Keep my word?” Stone growled. “Why don’t you keep your word?”

He grabbed her hand in his, wrapping the fingers of his free hand around them to mirror the twine that had bound their hands on the night they met.

“Will you join your blood to the Omari?”

Stone released her, picking her knife up from the ground and shoving the hilt into her palm. She met his intense glare with her own, then glanced around at the c*****e. Blood was everywhere: pooling on the ground beneath them, bubbling out of broken bodies, dripping from the bark of a tree before her. Blood. Blood and bodies and death surrounded them from nine Hauks. By this time, Akecheta had stepped toward them. He looked at the boy on the ground, then over at Rabid. His brow was furrowed, but then he turned to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You did well.” He said. Rabid looked down at the knife that sat in her blood-soaked hands. Then, without a word, she dropped the knife and walked away, sitting down beneath an oak a little ways off.

Stone shot Akecheta a concerned look. Akecheta raised an eyebrow at Stone.

“What was that about?” he said. The anger in Stone suddenly faded as he watched Rabid walking away. Stone cursed under his breath.

“I didn’t mean too…” he motioned in her direction, not even sure what to say. “I just want her to be smart, so she doesn’t get herself killed.”

“She will be okay.” Akecheta said, patting Stone on the shoulder. “As I said, killing should not be easy.”

Akecheta walked away, and was replaced by Kizi, who quickly pulled Stone’s shirt up and looked at the scratches along his stomach. Stone winced and she poked at his wounds.

“Well, that boy was basically useless. You’ll heal without my help.” She said, and walked off the tend to White Hawk. Stone rolled his eyes and examined the wound himself—she was right, it barely cut through enough to bleed. The rest of the men, who were mostly uninjured, began to gather kindling and pull the bodies to a pile in the clearing, to be burned before they moved on to the sacred site.

“They must have been a scouting party.” Blood Wolf muttered. 

“What were they doing here?” Stone asked, to which his father shook his head.

Stone looked back to Rabid, watching her for a moment. Her face was ashen, her limbs slack. Kizi reappeared beside him, placing her hand on his arm.

“I’ve never seen you like that, Stone.” She said softly. “Where did that come from?”

Stone shook his head, unsure. Whatever cave it had come from deep inside him, it had already crawled itself back in there. Once again, he had to cool and collected demeanor he had been named for.

“You would really leave her alone, without her people?” she asked softly. Her emerald eyes glinted as if she already knew the answer.

“I hope you’re the only one that heard that.” Stone said, realizing that if she heard that, she had heard everything. “You know I wouldn’t. And… I know you won’t speak of what else you heard.”

“What would I say, that you’re too good of a man to take a woman against her will? You are an honorable man to wed a stranger who you didn’t want, and even more so to protect her like this. I could never fault you for that.”

Stone shook his head, sighing heavily.

“I would have her in a heartbeat.” 

The words slipped out before he even realized that they were true. Kizi’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but then she smiled and patted his shoulder.

“Well, you better go fix this if there’s any hope of that.” She said, flashing him a grin and walking off.

Stone sighed and walked toward Rabid, regret already filling his stomach. He stood beside her for a long moment as she refused to look up.

“You did good. You saved me.” He said awkwardly. The apology felt uncomfortable in his mouth. He rarely apologized. She didn’t respond, and refused to look at him. 

“Look, Rabid. I’m sorry for what I said. You are Omari, now, just like us. I just want you to be safe.” 

He spoke softly, trying to show her that he was sincere, but Rabid said nothing. After a few more moments of silence, Stone sighed and walked away. When he looked back over his shoulder, she was bent over with dirt in her hands, furiously scrubbing at the red stains on her palms.