Derelict

Vengeance is Mine

Chapter Twenty-Seven

With silence and stealth, the zelinx dropped into the glade. Air billowed from its leathery wings, startling everyone with its sudden appearance. With wings still unfurled, it arched its neck and loosened an ear-splitting shriek, a challenge to any foolish enough to approach. Gnarled fangs jutted from snapping jaws while its yellow, reptilian eyes glowed with malevolence in the flickering torchlight.

Rusk saw only fragments and snippets of the ensuing chaos. He could hear nothing other than a muted and muffled undertone of sound. Somehow, his mind had severed the connection to his hearing and left him with nothing other than the silent spectacle of his people under attack.

It was like this during times of battle.

The pack animals vanished into the night, trampling each other in wild panic as they raced for sanctuary in the trees. Grown men dropped to their knees in abject terror, crying out in fear and raising their hands in supplication to the Mandu. Children, all wide-eyed and horrified, scattered in a hundred different directions while the women attempted to gather and herd the little ones to safety. Confusion reigned as fear wrapped its deadly grip around the hearts of men and beasts.

Without realizing it, Rusk turned to face the creature. He gripped the lance in his hand and hefted it in appreciation. The wooden shaft and steel head were balanced and deadly, ready to attack and destroy. If today be the day, let me die defending my clan!

"You send the creatures to cleanse us of impurities and to root out apostasy," he yelled. He was confident the Mandu could hear even though he could not. "And at times, you seek to test our resolve. To test our mettle!"

He thumped the lance against his chest then raised it to the sky. "But I am ready. I am worthy and you will not find me lacking!"

He stalked toward the creature and an unnatural sense of peace descended over him. It snuffed out his fear, it soothed his anger, it prepared his soul. He knew death awaited but he saw it now as his path, one he was meant to follow. I am the Touri of the Griff clan and my death will bring honor to the clan from the Mandu. Others will follow in my footsteps! He smiled, reveling in the knowledge that no other Touri had before faced such a trial from the Mandu. He would die or he would survive; either way he would be legend. This is a good thing.

The sinuous tail of the beast curled and snaked behind it while deadly talons clawed at the air. Its jaws snapped at those scrambling to get away but it remained stationary, choosing not to pursue. Rusk thought this strange but believed the sight of prey scuttling in every direction perhaps served to confuse it.

Then, a lone figure caught his attention, one who stood unwavering next to the zelinx with his arms outstretched. Rusk peered forward in the dim light, baffled that the zelinx had not devoured the one foolish enough to remain nearby. He wiped his eyes free of sweat and realized who it was.

The Speck. It was the Speck standing tall next to the creature, his arms now folded across his chest. He seemed unafraid. Is he really that stupid? Does he think the beast will not notice him if he remains still?

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned. It was Kemp, mouthing words that sounded distant and unintelligible.

Kemp pointed at the Speck, his eyes wild with fury while spittle flew from his mouth. His finger jabbed toward the Speck but Rusk gave up trying to understand. He needed to concentrate and face the challenge prepared by the Mandu. The challenge he now realized was his sole reason for existence. Everything had been distilled down to this moment and it was clear this was the very essence for his being. He could see that now. He needed to prove his worth.