To Break a Diamond
by
Sarah Katz
The pale green and violet clouds gracing the night sky above the dark
forest stood in stark contrast to the petrified expression of the girl in
the clearing.
In the dim light of the skyflame and fire pit, Nilor looked on in anguish
at Tani, the newest young Lumberer to receive the brand mark on her face
that might prove to be her undoing.
As the Hackman lifted the branding iron to Tani's cheek, the indignance
rose in Nilor's chest to near bursting. "No!" she cried, before even
registering the words leaving her lips. "Leave her alone! She's only a
child!"
All at once, the Hackman's bulk rounded on Nilor, beady dark eyes roving
over the leaf brand on her own cheekbone before capturing her gaze.
"Everyone in Opal knows that all Lumberers get the mark of the trees
you hack down," he sneered.
"And how many have fallen to illness from the wound?" Nilor insisted, a
sweat breaking out on her nape at the realization that she was actually
questioning their leader.
"Listen here, you lot of stumps," the Hackman's head swiveled around the
circle of Lumberers. "For Nilor's insolence, little Tani here'll get
two
marks—"
Nilor's vision swam with red. No sooner had the Hackman turned back to Tani
than the older girl struck him upside the head with the wooden butt of her
axe. Disoriented, the Hackman's bulk proved far too massive to stay down
for long.
Within moments, his confusion turned to rage, and Nilor took off sprinting
into the forest faster than she ever knew she could run.
"By the Tower, you better run!" the chilled wind carried the Hackman's
furious tone.
Nilor's legs plowed ahead despite her burning chest. Ducking beneath
branches and around massive wooden trunks, she refused to give up and let
him win this. To bring back her mangled body as an example for the others.
Breaking out into the clearing of caves beneath the Thundering Falls, Nilor
stopped dead within a hair's breadth of colliding with a great rock face.
Brandishing her axe in the glow of the Diamond Tower above the great falls,
Nilor turned to face the Hackman already advancing from the tree line.
The moment he swung his axe, Nilor narrowly avoided the blow, scrambling
over the slippery boulders leading to the caves beneath the spray of the
cascades. Barely keeping hold of her own axe, she crawled for the mouth of
the cave—
With a yelp, Nilor collapsed onto her front at a grasp to her right ankle.
Giving herself no time to let the fear sink in, she railed on the Hackman
with her axe, nicking him in the eye.
The massive man howled, knocking her axe into the stream. Nilor's chest
sank, as her gaze followed the tool to where it became lodged between two
rocks not two meters downstream.
Gaze returning to the Hackman's livid face, Nilor fought the urge to shut
her eyes, as he raised his axe with a monstrous bellow—
Only to close her mouth instead at the metallic taste of blood.
Heart pounding in her chest, Nilor took in the sight before her—a massive
shape, translucent yet barely illuminated by the glow of the Tower and
skyflame, enveloping the Hackman's entire frame.
Transfixed and rooted to the spot, Nilor suppressed a whimper at the
rippling of the membrane encasing her people's writhing leader—
All at once, the gel substance retreated, revealing a withered mess of
flesh that promptly collapsed over the boulders to be swallowed by the
raging river.
Limbs still refusing to move, Nilor stared up at the translucent column
rising up before her. She idly registered her teeth bite down on her lower
lip when the … creature assumed a shape roughly similar to a girl her size.
"What are you?" Nilor's own voice reached her ears.
Wah ah yoo … a soft rasp echoed Nilor's question, and she marveled
at the realization that the creature actually seemed to be imitating her
speech.
Keeping her gaze trained on the translucent beast, she crouched down on the
jagged boulder beneath her feet. Moving as slowly as she could ever recall,
she maneuvered her way out over the smaller stones leading into the middle
of the turbulent stream. Blinking away the spray of the river while
focusing all other energy on holding her balance, Nilor brushed her fingers
over the adjacent rocks.
Once she'd grasped the butt of her axe, she tugged, hoping the sound
wouldn't spook the creature still seeming to observe her from the bank.
Making her way back over to the riverbank boulders at the mouth of the
cave, she put as much distance as possible between her and the thing.
Somehow, the fact that the beast hadn't seemed to move a hair's distance
since she had first waded into the water didn't make Nilor feel any better.
Had the Hackman been a satisfying enough meal? Was it simply curious about
Nilor?
Nilor's thoughts scattered, as her boot slipped on the wet rock face.
Shutting her jaws in time to quell her yelp turning into a cry, she didn't
miss the creature's gel form vibrating as if in pain, its column-like form
slumping over slightly.
"It's the noise, isn't it?" Nilor murmured, already resolving not to raise
her voice above the rushing stream. "I'm sorry, I'll just leave quietly."
Keeping a generous five-meter distance from the creature, Nilor beelined
for the tree line back toward camp.
She'd barely raised her arms to rub her shoulders through the fabric
against the growing cold before the hairs on her nape stood on end. Pausing
to cast a backward glance toward the river, she frowned at the outline of
the creature standing before the mist rising from the water's surface—the
creature that still had her shape.
"Go on, go home," she muttered, not daring raise her voice any further.
After several long moments, Nilor decided she'd rather not brave the
forest shadows with this thing possibly trailing behind her. Better to walk
along the tree line where she had some semblance of a chance at a parallel
pace to keep it in her general line of sight.
Once the initial fright started to ebb from her limbs, exhaustion soon
seeped in, overlaid by a general trepidation—what would she tell the
Lumberer camp had happened to their Hackman?
While she had only brandished her axe at him in self-defense, she hadn't
even struck a blow … and now, she could well be leading this creature back
to her people, where she had no idea what kind of havoc it might wreak.
Fatigue finally overwhelming her, Nilor slumped down against the moist bark
of a wide tree trunk with a direct view of the river. Sure enough, out of
the corner of her eye, she caught the creature's form re-shape itself into
a small column of gel not a meter away.
Eyes not leaving the foamy waves before them, Nilor spoke up again, "Guess
if you wanted to eat me, I'd already be eaten. Let's hope you don't get
hungry once I fall asleep."
* * *
Whether due to alertness over this potential predator, or wondering how she
was going to explain all of this to her camp, Nilor's eyes nearly refused
to open to the first golden rays of dawn.
Squinting against even the murky sunlight that barely overwhelmed the now
receding glow of the Tower above the caves, Nilor's gaze roamed over to
settle once again on the translucent creature. Even in her exhaustion, she
didn't miss the way the thing altered its strange skin to match the
surrounding tree bark and leaves.
Fascinating—if also terrifying. Never in all the known perils of woodrunner
hound attacks and fright tales about the mysterious Tower had anything at
all close to this beast come up around the campfire.
Regardless of whether the creature could actually understand words or
simply mimic, she saw no immediate risk in speaking freely about the man it
had just made its meal. "I'm glad he's gone … for everyone's sake. But now
it falls to me to lead the camp."
The trek back to camp seemed to pass faster than half a moment—and then,
Tani spotted her, all questions.
"Nilor! Where've you been these all night? Where has the Hackman gone? We
thought he'd taken you out!"
"He fell," Nilor replied—it was the truth, after all. "The river washed
him away."
Tani's grey eyes shone bright. "A Crystal Palace scout came early this
morning saying they'd seen blood in the river from down this way."
"By the Diamond Tower, I don't know what happened to him—" Nilor snapped
before immediately regretting her acidic tone with the young girl.
She hadn't enough time to apologize, before Tani's eyes went wide at
something behind Nilor.
"What is that?"
Shoulders sagging, Nilor knew she had to think fast. Assure her people she
had some speck of control over this situation, as a proper leader should.
"This is … Woon. They dwelt by the river caves beneath the Tower, and … I
suppose they decided to follow me home."
Tani frowned, as Nilor tried not to directly acknowledge the utter horror
that this beast could likely devour any of them the way it had their former
leader.
"Woon …" the younger girl remarked. "Mist? Is it made of mist? Why has it
taken your shape?"
Sure enough, Nilor glanced sideways to see the creature—Woon, she
supposed—had once again attempted the shape of a slender girl.
Just as Nilor went to wrack her brain for yet more excuses, a moist lump
escaped from within the other Lumberer's tattered shirt.
Nilor regarded the fallen item—the bottom half of a fish.
Suddenly, it wasn't only Nilor who had some explaining to do.
"There was no Palace scout, was there?" Nilor probed, eyeing Tani. "You
saw that blood yourself fishing in the river. You know flesh is forbidden
in the camp. You'll bring the hounds right to us!"
As if on cue, a shrill howl pierced the quiet morning air.
"The woodrunners!" Tani cried. "We're done for! I'm so sorry, I—some of
the little ones were so hungry, and—"
The girl fell silent, as three lanky hounds emerged from the thick of the
forest surrounding the camp clearing, already advancing toward where Nilor
and Tani stood before the encampment huts.
Readying her fight stance to brandish her axe, Nilor paused as the corner
of her eye registered Woon move once more to rise even higher than they
had while consuming the Hackman.
As the creature bowed into a translucent arch toward the woodrunners, one
of the hounds released a whimper before all three began to cower, heavy
black coats gleaming in the torchlight of the surrounding camp.
"Woon …" Nilor heard herself say, "they're … afraid of you."
The moment the woodrunners turned tail for the tree line, Tani piped up
again. "They're retreating! Your creature saved us!"
Nilor's heartbeat had barely slowed its pounding against her ribcage for
what felt like the ninth time since last night, that she once again
whirled around to the sound of another voice.
"So, theseare the hardworking Lumberers my father always goes on
about?"
Nilor took in the sight of a girl about her age—long braided hair nearly
the shade of snow and a leather vest with matching breeches. All symbols of
nobility.
"Come from the Crystal Palace?" Nilor stepped forward, lowering her axe
all the way so as not to signal hostility, but making sure to keep her tone
steady all the same.
The girl held her gaze, jade eyes locking onto Nilor's. "How perceptive.
I'm Denirengo, daughter of Chieftain Yadaro himself. Are you the leader of
this little clan?"
"Yes," Nilor didn't miss a beat, "they call me Nilor … Nilorangu. We chop
lumber for your palace. Why have you come to this forest, Denirengo?"
"We've spotted strange lights in the sky," Denirengo replied. "Can never
be too careful. And you can call me Denir. Why don't you chop a tree and
show me what the fuss is all about? The thickest tree around. That one!"
Denir pointed to the thick tree trunk just behind where Woon was currently
blending in with the bark.
Not in the mood to risk crossing royalty—no matter how evidently
frivolous—Nilor readied her axe. Whether due to exhaustion or the
underlying hesitation to risk agitating Woon, the blow barely made a dent
in the bark.
"Is that really all you've got?" Denir said, and Nilor internally chided
herself at how the taunt made her bristle. "And here I thought I'd snuck
out to watch some real warriors. Not a group of children chasing off
hounds. Where's your leader? Father spoke of a Hackman."
"I am the Hackman," Nilor replied without hesitation. "Chopping lumber
takes effort, not something done in one go."
Tani threw Nilor a questioning look, likely for referring to herself as
the Hackman. Hopefully, the young girl would forgo asking straight out
whether Nilor had struck down their leader until after the most important
woman in all of Opal had cleared out.
"Right," Denir scoffed. "Let's see how you fight, then. The winner gets
the title of Hackman."
As Nilor raised her axe for what felt like the hundredth time, her gaze
dipped to Denir's hand which drew a long diamond blade from her own wide
belt.
"Does a chieftain's daughter need to fight often?" Nilor chanced, suddenly
thinking she might not want to give up her newfound position so easily.
Denir grinned, nimble feet beginning a prowl toward Nilor. "This blade is
cut from diamond, the toughest stone in all of Opal. Unbreakable."
"Very well," Nilor's resolve steeled. "Let's see what you can do with it!"
Taking advantage of the still-generous distance between them, Nilor
sidestepped to avoid Denir's first attempt at a charge.
Whirling to keep her gaze on the princess, Nilor's gut dropped, as the
other young woman charged again sooner than expected—this time with a
feigned strike to the head with her fist, which Nilor again avoided only to
be nearly toppled by a nick of the diamond blade's edge to her belly.
That did it.
With a sharp hiss, Nilor swung her axe forward to shear off the ends of
Denir's flowing blond hair where the metal stuck fast in the bark of the
trunk behind the princess's head.
Narrowly managing to wrench out her axe from the tree trunk in time to
block Denir's blow to the face, Nilor pushed her weapon against Denir's
throat right above the princess's own blade.
"A stalemate," Nilor stated, tone like ice.
When Denir's clear eyes traded obstinance for fear at something behind
Nilor, the new Hackman didn't even have to guess the reason.
"W-what is that?" Denir demanded, nearly backing into the tree that
had just claimed Nilor's axe.
With a steady smile, Nilor turned to regard the creature behind her. "This
is Woon. They're from the caves beneath the Diamond Tower. They are the one
who scared off the hounds."
Several long moments stretched by, during which some of those who had left
the surrounding hutsto observe the impromptu duel stood rooted to
the spot in anticipation.
"Very well," Denir relented, sheathing her sword. "I submit, Hackman. But
that—that creature by your side. My father will want to know of this beast
who can protect the forest laborers. This is a truly great discovery.
Follow me."
Deciding against refusing the princess only to have a royal guard descend
upon the camp later, Nilor fell into step beside Denir.
The sunlight filtered through the thick canopy overhead, as the young
women embarked through the woods toward the Palace embedded in the cliffs
opposite the Falls.
"Are you taking us to the Crystal Palace?" Nilor wanted to know.
Denir allowed the hint of a smile. "Father will be pleased. He'll finally
see that venturing into the woods isn't dangerous at all, even for a young
girl."
"I've lived outside my whole life," Nilor scoffed. "The forest can be
frightening, but you learn to deal with it."
"How did you happen upon … that?" Denir jerked her chin in the
direction of Woon, who trailed behind them at a generous distance.
Nilor fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Theysaved me during an
attack."
"So, they're your pet?"
Nilor almost barked a laugh. "As if! I have no control over Woon. They do
what they want."
The young women emerged from the tree line to face the Crystal Palace, a
looming diamond structure set above a modest waterfall.
Initial gaze entranced by the sight before them, Nilor's neck snapped
around at the flit of what looked like the silhouette of a person visible
just beside the shade of the waterfall, framed against the glow of the
Tower from the opposite side of the forest.
Blinking in the morning sun, Nilor pursed her lips in frustration at seeing
nothing beside the cascade.
"So, how do you make sure they don't attack?" Denir's voice brought Nilor
back to the present.
They? Oh, Woon.
"Avoiding loud noise seems to do the trick," Nilor replied.
Denir strode forth up the narrow pathway carved in the cliffside for the
thirty or so meters to the foot of the palace staircase. Just before
continuing on to the stairs, Denir veered off to the right.
With a furtive glance at the guards still in the distance some ways up the
staircase, Nilor followed the princess around another, narrower pathway
that circled around the outer pillar of the translucent structure's base.
At any other time, she likely would have stopped to marvel at the Palace's
beauty—for now, though, keeping Woon in tow took precedent.
"We can use the back entryway," Denir murmured, heading for a threshold
barely higher than she and Nilor."Through the help's quarters.
Father can't know I was out—"
Nilor nearly bumped into Denir who stopped short at the sight of a tall man
with a greying beard who stepped out of the servants' quarter.
"Father has known for the better part of the afternoon, Denirengo," he
said, eyeing Nilor with some curiosity.
"Father!" sputtered Denir. "We—"
Nilor took the opportunity to dispel the situation. "The Tower's light
shines on both you and your daughter, Chieftain. She got lost in the
forest, and it was my fortune to lead her back to safety."
Denir glared daggers at Nilor, which the latter pretended not to notice.
"… Very well," Yadaro relented after a stretch. "Thank you, Lumberer.
Denirengo, follow me—"
Nilor froze at the sight of Woon rising up beside the Chieftain.
Yadaro's eyes widened. "Wh-what in the name of the Tower? Guards!"
No, no one else could know about Woon. The Lumberers needed a guard for
their encampment.
With a deep breath, Nilor stepped between Woon and the older man. "No,
please, Chieftain! This is Woon. They won't hurt you."
"They are from the caves beneath the Tower," Denir chimed in, to Nilor's
relief. "They protect the Lumberers from woodrunners."
Another pause ensued, as Yadaro's clear blue eyes surveyed Woon.
"Very well," he said. "But they will have to stay out here for now. Along
with that axe of yours. I hope you understand, young Lumberer."
"Father," Denir spoke up again, as the Chieftain turned to lead them over
the threshold. "this is Nilor. She is the Hackman."
Nilor glanced around, as the three of thempassed from the servants'
quarters through an ornate hallway of small waterfalls and translucent
crystal walls.
They eventually arrived at a sitting room with a fountain at the center
and turquoise orb fixtures lighting the space from the four corners of the
ceiling. Yadaro gestured to a divan, and the two young women took a seat at
either end.
"Hackman, hm," Yadaro murmured, taking his own seat in a large chair
opposite the divan. "Last I saw of him, Hackman Stuko was quite a bit
taller."
For once, Nilor's heart didn't pound at the need to cover her tracks. She
didn't have to straight out lie, in any event. "Stuko … had an accident at
the falls. Being the oldest left at camp, I took over the position."
The chieftain nodded. "Admirable, Nilor. I've trained Denirengo here since
she was young. One can never be too careful, even with a fortress of the
sturdiest quartz such as ours."
"Not that we've ever been in touch with other peoples since those Lirian
desert dwellers over a century ago," Denir said, tone laced with
disappointment.
"Be that as it may," Yadaro went on, "your mother never let us drop our
guard. The Opal are strong. I must say, though, it's been a while since
I've seen a Lumberer around the Crystal Palace."
"You don't see many peasants on this side of the forest?" Nilor asked,
knowing exactly what he'd meant.
Yadaro met her gaze head on. "Not since some of your kin decided to hitch
a ride back with us rather than stay in the desert."
Nilor frowned, as Denir shifted beside her. She'd only heard of the desert
across the Teal Sea from legends. "The Lumberers are Lirian?"
Yadaro nodded. "Indeed, a hearty folk happy to chop firewood for the Opal,
so long as we left you to your business in the forest."
Suddenly feeling even more out of place than before, Nilor stammered.
"B-but I am Opal!"
"Yes …" Yadaro began, "by now, I suppose you are. It's been over a century
since many of your people chose to split off from the Tabir continent
across the sea and settle here. Seems the Tabir weren't the kindest to your
ancestors."
Thank the Tower for Denir, who had evidently caught on to the tension in
the air. "So then, Nilor—would you care for a tour of the Crystal Palace?
Stay the night?"
"Now, my crystal," Yadaro said, "the Lumberers need their Hackman."
"They'll be fine on their own for a night," Nilor assured him, not wanting
to leave on any uncertain note. "I would be honored to see more of the
Crystal Palace."
"It's the least we can do, Father," insisted Denir. "That guardian
downstairs might look frightening, but Woon listens to Nilor. This is a
truly incredible discovery."
"So like your mother," said Yadaro, and Nilor couldn't help but wondering
what had become of Denir's mother, "sensationalizing creatures of the
forest. You'd think this Woon were a creation of the Zaam themselves!"
Nilor frowned again. "The Zaam?"
Denir glanced over at Nilor. "Those who built the Diamond Tower, or so
says the myth."
Knowing she risked exposing her peasantry further with the lack of
learning, Nilor's curiosity won out over pride. "You mean … the Opal
didn't build the Tower?"
Denir's eyes widened. "Why do you think no one goes near that thing? No
known Opal has even touched it, let alone built it."
"Now, then," Yadaro piped up, "that's enough history lessons for one
night. Nilor, you may stay the night, if you wish. I am truly thankful for
your bravery and that of your … friend out there, in bringing my daughter
home safely. Is there anything the Lumberers need where I can assist?
The trouble which had started this whole mess sprang to mind first. "I
would choose to get rid of the face marking tradition. Too many fall ill
from the wound of the leaf mark."
"That seems like a decision for the Hackman," the Chieftain replied,
corners of his eyes wrinkling with the hint of mirth.
Nilor didn't even try to mask her sigh of relief.
"Right, then," she started again, "Rations, too. If possible for the
Chiefdom, we would like crops delivered to our camp daily."
"Making demands, now," Denir snickered beside her.
"Done," Yadaro said over his daughter's quip. "We have enough to go around
and, as I recall, your group is small. Furthermore, the frost of the cold
season grows harsher by the year. You are all welcome to stay in the palace
once the white chill comes."
"Thank you, Chieftain," Nilor said in a tone that she could only hope
reflected the immense elation warming her chest.
Yadaro nodded. "I will say good day now, but it has been good to know you,
Hackman Nilor."
After a full day and night of escape and dueling, Nilor could no longer
ignore the fatigue compounded by the ascent up the crystal steps to Denir's
chambers.
"Is this entire structure made of crystal?" Nilor asked to distract
herself from the pull of sleep gnawing at her.
"Every last corner," Denir grinned. "Father had me believing it was ice
until I grew old enough to ask how it never melted in the hotter days of
the warm season."
If the hallways had been a beauty, Denir's chambers were truly a gem to
behold. As soon as they entered the vast space, Nilor took in the high
four-poster bed, making her way to the large balcony overlooking the
forest, falls and luminous Tower beyond.
"Do you think Woon'll be all right for the night?" came Denir's voice from
behind her, and Nilor almost missed the question at the exquisite vista
before her.
Nilor turned back to face the princess. "They've lived in these woods for
who knows how long and doesn't need me ordering them around. Your home is
incredible! I never imagined crystal could be so strong as to build an
entire palace."
At that, Denir smiled again. "Plenty strong. Let me show you."
Nilor's breath caught, as Denir strode across the balcony to leap over the
edge—only for her head to re-appear.
Hurrying to the balcony's ledge, Nilor glanced down to see Denir holding
onto the ledge, her feet planted on a winding crystal slab that descended
from the balcony as far as she could make out.
"This goes all the way to the ground floor," said Denir. "Want to give it
a try?"
Nilor didn't bother to hide her hesitation at the sheer drop to the ground
far below.
Denir grabbed Nilor's hands in her own. "Come on, now—you've survived
those woods and creatures for how long now? You can brave a little slide!"
With a curt nod, Nilor made up her mind.
"This can really help clear your mind," Denir went on. "The cold wind
destroys all your troubles. Just hang on tight."
After helping Nilor down onto the lip of the crystal slope, Denir sat
behind the Lumberer. Once Denir clasped Nilor's hip with one hand, she
pushed off with her other hand, and Nilor's stomach dropped.
It was true—the brisk wind whipping across her cheeks left little room for
any thoughts at all beyond avoiding that downward glance and trying to
quell her fears enough to not snap off Denir's fingers within her own
terrified grip.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, the journey ended.
"Don't worry," Denir reassured with a smile, gesturing to a wooden lever
and pulley system with ropes beside the base of the slide. "We have a lift
for the return trip. The slope was originally for the servants bringing
food to the upper levels while important council meetings went on inside.
They still use it more often than they'll admit."
The return trip to Denir's chamber passed in a blur. Once back inside,
Nilor collapsed onto the carpet before the doors to the balcony.
Denir sat beside her. "It's … nice having someone else here. Father's
always planning Chiefdom affairs, and … well, I don't really remember
mother being around. She passed soon after my birth."
Nilor nodded. "Same with mine. She passed of a fever when I was young.
Father fell to the hounds while out gathering healing herbs for her. Since
then, it's just been the Lumberers."
Denir withdrew what looked like a withered morsel from her vest to offer
Nilor.
"Frog jerky," the princess said. "Since we skipped supper."
"Meat?" Nilor frowned. "But the hounds—"
"No hounds are breaking in here," Denir said with a warm smile that seemed
so different to the arrogance the princess had shown back in the forest.
"Bed or floor, take your pick."
Nilor didn't have to think twice. "Balcony!"
"Suit yourself, Hackman," Denir chuckled. "Grab a blanket and keep the
doors ajar, it's too cold to leave all the way open."
Once settled down with the thick blanket atop the carpet, Nilor gazed out
at the dark forest and falls below cast in shadow beneath the murky
skyflame and Tower glow.
Content as she was, she still felt naked without her axe.
* * *
Nilor had scarcely realized she'd fallen asleep until an amber light shone
through her closed eyelids.
Squinting against the light, she opened her eyes to take in a fiery orb in
the pre-dawn grey overhead through the crack in the balcony doors.
When the single door to the chamber creaked open, Nilor turned and stood
with a start to see Denir entering.
"I didn't want to disturb you out on the balcony," she said, "but father
sent a servant with word of new arrivals to Opal. Seems the lights we saw
the other day sent reinforcements."
"New arrivals?" Nilor frowned. "Here at the Palace?"
"Let's find out," replied Denir, already turning again for the door.
Denir halted several paces from her father who stood greeting what appeared
to be the newcomers—a tall woman and young man, both with faces adorned in
gold paint and clothed in what appeared to be warrior uniforms of a dull
forest green.
Nilor drew in a breath of fresh morning air, sensing the presence of Woon
creep up beside her.
"Chief?" she could just make out the woman's accented tongue in the
language of the Lumberers. "It's been a long time. I am Mak Kerad,
chancellor of Tabira, the new Lirian homeland. We hope you can understand
our Lirian."
"It's been a long time since I've spoken the desert tongue in
conversation," replied Yadaro, "but we all still learn it to communicate
with our resident Lirians."
Denir whispered in Nilor's ear. "Can you understand them?"
Nilor nodded. "It's Lirian. They never told us the name of the language
before now, we just always spoke it at camp."
"Why the decision to revisit Opal?" Yadaro asked of the woman.
At that, the boy spoke. "Chieftain, if I may, my n-name is Joleh. W-we
believe we could have resources to exchange. We have a strong metal called
steel that we can trade for those d-diamonds our Lirian quarter still
speaks of."
"They want our diamonds!" Denir hissed.
"Where do you mine them?" Nilor wanted to know. "The Hackman hasn't sent
us to mine for as long as I can remember."
"Last I heard, the diamonds come from those caves beneath the Tower,"
Denir replied. "The guards talked of aircraft spotted in the sky for
scattered days. They must have been scouting …"
"Very well," Chief Yadaro's voice quieted the two women once more. "We
will consider your steel. Ifyou can show us its durability."
Nilor watched closely, as Joleh withdrew a steel canister to hand to
Yadaro. "T-test its strength as you wish," the young warrior offered.
Without a word, the Chieftain withdrew the diamond dagger at his belt.
Smashing the blade down over the metal canister, his brow raised at the
sight of the unscathed canister.
"A fine material, indeed," Yadaro allowed. "Set up camp bear the Chiefdom,
and we will discuss. We have several diamond blocks on hand, ideal for
architecture."
"And weaponry?" Mak Kerad pressed. "I take it you also use these diamonds
for battle?"
"Opal has been at peace since our skirmish with the Lirians years back,"
Yadaro replied, eyes narrowed. "We aim to keep it that way."
As Chief Yadaro and Mak Kerad departed toward the Palace stairwell, Nilor
locked eyes with the soldier, Joleh.
Before she and Denir could take their leave, the young man approached. "Who
are you t-two, then? Spies for the Chief?"
Woon chose that moment to rise up, startling Joleh. The soldier withdrew a
golden triangular blade, gaze never leaving the creature before him.
.
"You might want to keep your voice down," Nilor advised. "Woon here isn't
fond of loud noise. And we're not spies, you are on ourland."
As Joleh studied Nilor, she couldn't help but notice his tousled black
hair and exposed neck the color of tree bark, both similar to her own.
"They t-told us about the sun-haired Opal like your friend here," Joleh
remarked. "But you're not from around here, are you?"
"She's of Opal!" Denir insisted.
Joleh's dark eyes didn't leave Nilor's. "Maybe recently. But I'll bet your
ancestors came from across the sea—perhaps from Lir? My name's Joleh, also
of T-tabira. We are related to the Lirians, and I've s-studied Lir—"
"That's enough," Denir cut in. "Chief Yadaro is my father, and I don't
want you hanging around our home anymore."
"Good!" said Joleh. "I've just arrived in a new land, and the M-Mak will
call when she's finished with the Chief. In the meantime, I w-would love a
tour of the forest."
"I have to get back to my work in the forest," Nilor said, hoping to avoid
any potential trouble.
"I'll join," said Denir, clearly of the same mindset.
"Denir, it's fine," Nilor whispered. "I can watch my back."
"I should hope so, "Denir whispered back. "Keep an eye on that triangle of
his."
Once Denir departed for the Palace, Nilor turned to Joleh. "Stay in front
of me where I can see. Woon and I will be watching, so don't try anything
funny."
"W-Woon?" Joleh frowned. "That's your friend's name? What's yours?"
"Nilor," she replied, as the three of them began a trek through the forest.
"There are vicious hounds in these woods," she said. "Woon protects those
of us who work in the forest."
"Mining d-diamonds?" Joleh pressed.
Nilor side-eyed him. He asked a lot of questions. "Chopping firewood."
"Ah," said Joleh. "So, you work for the Ch-chieftain's daughter?
Nilor bristled, as the Lumberer camp came into view.
"I work for no one, only withmy people. Now, sit there where
I can see you," she requested, pointing to a nearby stump. "And remember,
no loud noises."
As the day passed,Nilor kept a close eye on the newcomer, avoiding
him until the sun began to recede to the Tower's glow.
"I didn't think you'd actually not move a hair," she remarked, returning
to Joleh once the others had returned to their huts.
Joleh stood. "T-true to my word. The Mak has just summoned me, so I'll
make my way back. B-but it's been fun watching all of that … chopping."
Just as Joleh went to depart, Nilor decided to voice the question she'd
had since first laying eyes on the new arrivals."Why … why do you
wear the paint?
Joleh halted before turning back to face her. "T-that glowing megalith you
have. We have one, too. W-we wear the paint in belief that the Zaam will
one day return, sharing w-with us their cures for all ills, injury, disease
and war alike."
Joleh paused before speaking again."I'm actually s-surprised you
didn't ask ab-bout the stutter. The Mak says it'll always be what people
notice first."
"Your shiny face was more interesting," Nilor replied with the hint of a
smile. "Is your mother a warrior, too?
Joleh laughed. "I j-joined the Mak so my m-mother wouldn't have to
l-listen to me talk anymore. B-brought my little brother w-with me back in
Tabira, but he's s-still too young to join a m-mission."
After a stretch, Nilor shifted from one foot to the other. "Best get back.
That face gold should light your path well enough."
"Thanks, Nilor," said Joleh. "The Zaam's light shines on you."
That night, Nilor stared up at the night sky through the forest canopy.
Beside her, Woon's form rippled like a turbulent stream.
"Can't sleep either?" Nilor murmured.
Sleeeeeep, the creature mimicked, and Nilor once again wondered how
much Woon actually understood.
"I'm surprised you haven't gone home by now," she said. "There must be
others of your kind?"
Woon reclined their head, as if in sadness. Don't … want … me.
Well, that answered all questions of understanding.
"They don't want you? Why?" Nilor wanted to know.
Talk … like you, replied the creature.
"Your kind can't talk like you?" Nilor frowned. "That's a gift. I'd love
to be able to sing like a bird, even howl like a woodrunner!"
In her excitement, Nilor extended her fingers to touch Woon's form for the
first time, halting just before making contact. When the creature didn't
recoil, she brushed her fingertips light as a feather against that gel-like
flesh.
"You have a place with me," Nilor assured them. "If you like. It's just …
amazing how we never knew about your kind before now …"
Watched you … that gentle rasp continued.
Nilor raised a brow. "You've been watching us? That explains how you
learned to speak a little. Well, Woon, I'm glad you were there that night.
Not just to save me, but … getting rid of Hackman Stuko freed us all."
Leaves crackling behind Nilor nearly sent her heart out of her chest.
Whirling around, she sighed at the sight of Denir.
"Sorry," Denir whispered, "I know everyone's asleep. But I needed to see
you both again. It's been such a strange day."
"What happened?" Nilor asked.
"Mak Kerad will summon us both to her camp tomorrow," Denir replied.
"Why me?" Nilor wanted to know. "I'm just a Lumberer."
"Not with Woon following you around," Denir pointed out. "Turns out these
Tabir are very interested in us, and likely not just for a few diamond
blocks. Did that soldier boy cause any trouble?"
Nilor shrugged. "He seems harmless enough."
"Right, then," said Denir. "I'll get back to the Palace. The Mak has set
up camp at the foot of the stairwell. See you there tomorrow when the sun
reaches the Tower."
As it turned out, the Mak's massive tent was hard to miss, even when
dwarfed by the great Palace. Nilor and Denir exchanged glances with Joleh
before all three ducked into the Mak's dwelling.
Inside, Mak Kerad sat at a long table, accompanied by one soldier.
"Good morning," Kerad stated, fixing both women with her dark stare. "We
weren't sure you would show."
"We are here for my father," said Denir, not missing a beat. "It is custom
to respect newcomers. But why summon us and not him?"
"It would seem your Palace guards don't trust us too much," Kerad replied.
"Word gets around … well, diamond weapons and … artillery of a certain
other sort."
Woon, who had been blending in with the geometric tapestry of the tent's
interior, rose to their roughly humanoid shape. The soldier beside Kerad
looked on, shifting in suspicion but not yet brandishing the tube-shaped
metal weapon at his belt.
"Don't blame the guards," said Nilor. "Your messenger Joleh told you about
Woon, I take it."
Kerad's face broke into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I do admire
how the Opal have become so peace-loving. You as well, Lirian." .
Nilor stepped forward, a confidence like never before welling in her chest
at the presence of Woon at her side. "I've already told you. I am Opal."
"Of course, Hackman," Kerad replied, tone like honey. "That symbol on your
face … do all of you have one? In hope that the Zaam will return?"
"It's the Lumberer mark," Nilor said dully. "A symbol of the work we do,
not belief in unseen beings."
Mak Kerad raised a brow. "We can remove the paint, child. Not quite such a
barbaric practice."
"Nilor has put a stop to the flesh marking," Denir interjected. "Now, Mak,
just what is it we can do for you?"
Mak Kerad turned her attentions to Woon, standing to size them up. Woon
rose in kind.
"The ability to change shape …" remarked the older woman. "Simply
fascinating. And this … lives in the caves near the falls? Can it do any
tricks?"
"Woon is not a pet, here for your amusement," Nilor warned.
"Of course," the Mak's tone held mirth. "We are merely learning more about
the legendary cliffs of Opal and all their wondrous creatures. As mentioned
yesterday, I believe we can help each other. Tell me, Princess …?"
"Denirengo," Denir finished for her.
Kerad nodded, withdrawing the steel canister once again from the bag at her
waist. "Do you have any small diamonds you can spare?"
Suspicion evident in her movements, Denir pulled a bead from her diamond
bracelet to hand to Kerad. "Plenty more where that came from. Opal aren't
dependent on anything, certainly not beauty jewels."
"A good thing, too," stated Mak Kerad.
In a flash, the older woman smashed the bottom of the canister onto the
diamond, startling the girls and Woon, whose form shuddered.
Kerad removed the canister to reveal the shattered diamond bead.
"There is no need to rely on an unseen people lost to myth," said the
Tabir woman. "In Tabira, we learned long ago that everything is
breakable—as long you know how to strike it."
Nilor's eyes narrowed, shock from the broken diamond seeping into her
bones. "Joleh said there is also a Tower where you come from. Do you want
ours, as well?"
"As I've said, we want only to trade," replied Kerad. "Steel in exchange
for diamond to build back in Tabira."
"Have you studied what your Tower is made of?" Denir wanted to know.
"We give ours a wide berth," Kerad said. "Same as here, I expect.
Especially if that … companion of your friend came from there. What …
you didn't think the structure was made from diamond, did you?"
Denir shifted from one foot to the other. "It's just a name. What kind of
diamond glows in the dark?"
Kerad smiled. "Precisely. And yet … even in Tabira, we don't have anything
like this creature. It's almost as if it formed from the bacteria in those
caves. Perhaps even the viruses. Viruses do adapt very well, much like the
one that decimated my village as a child. If that Tower is by any
chance radioactive, if you ask me—"
"We didn't ask you," Nilor cut her off, ire rising at the incessant
questions. "Now, Mak, are we done here?"
"Princess Denirengo," Kerad looked to the fair-haired girl, "do you think
we're quite finished?"
"We are," Denir nodded. "And don't call me Princess. Princesses are born
into their title. A Chieftain's heir must earn their own way."
The young women and Woon exited the tent to find Joleh still waiting.
"How'd it go?" he asked.
Nilor brushed by with barely a glance in the soldier's direction.
Dusk settled on Opal, as Joleh followed an aggravated Nilor, Denir and
Woon to the river creek and boulders beneath the Great Falls at the base of
the Tower.
Joleh stared up in awe at the cascades, seeming desperate for any semblance
of conversation. "They n-never let us get this c-close in Tabira. You're
sure it's safe?"
"We haven't melted yet," Nilor pointed out.
"I might just sleep out here tonight," Denir eyed Joleh. "Father probably
won't even notice."
"Won't you freeze?" Joleh asked.
"The Lumberer camp is warm enough," replied Nilor. "It's also warmer at
the entrance to the caves."
As they made their way across the slick boulders, Joleh slipped partially
into the stream, the splash of water smudging the gold paint on his face.
Despite herself, Nilor giggled at the sight, using her thumb to smudge off
a bit that made his right eye look all crooked. "You're missing some of
your gold there."
Even without glancing directly at her friend, Nilor could sense Denir
glaring daggers.
Joleh rose a hand to his cheek. "I'll reapply early t-tomorrow at camp
before meeting the Mak. No big deal."
* * *
Despite her better night's sleep at camp, Nilor stirred to Joleh tossing
and turning beside her, mirroring her own inner turmoil.
Should she try and get to know the soldier better? Explore her people's
past from beyond their days as mere lumberers in Opal?
Just as she was reaching to wake him up, he sat up with a shout. "The
Palace … it's in danger! A r-rockslide. I have to warn them!"
Before she could open her mouth to ask further, Joleh dashed off out of the
clearing.
As soon as Nilor, Denir and Woon reached the base of the Palace staircase,
Nilor spotted Chief Yadaro watching the workmen repair the dam behind the
servant's entrance.
"By the Tower—the boy was right," murmured Yadaro. "How did he know?"
"No idea, Father," Denir said. "He's been with us in the forest these past
days."
Glancing up toward the boulders above the small cascade above the palace,
Nilor squinted at what appeared to be the figure of a person—before the
silhouette once again flitted away into the sunrise.
That evening, Nilor looked on in dismayed silence, as Denir attempted in
vain to convince her father of the Mak's suspicious behavior.
"I promise you, Father," Denir insisted, "Kerad is up to something. I
think she plans to use the diamonds the way we do. I know we haven't had
use for the cannons in years, but—"
"Come now, Denir," Yadaro cut in. "We aren't giving them nearly enough for
cannon fodder."
Denir wasn't convinced. "Then, perhaps those pellets they store in those
weapons of theirs? Bullets?"
"My crystal," sighed the Chief, "you've truly always had a mind for
strategy and defense of our home. But sometimes when we see trouble looming
where there is nothing, everything begins to look like a frightening
shadow. You mustn't concern yourself with what mightbe lurking around
every corner when you have an entire nation to lead."
Denir rose in a huff to leave. "Why even talk about me leading when you
clearly still see me as a child?"
Back at the Lumberer camp, Nilor turned over in her sleep, opening her
eyes to see a slim figure looming over her. Startled by the strange,
luminous spheres marking the being's cheeks and forehead, Nilor stood bolt
upright.
Beside her, Woon rippled but didn't rise, remaining mostly camouflaged with
the leaves of the forest floor.
Eyes adjusting to the dim torchlight, Nilor took in the ethereal, feminine
figure with its dark brown skin tone, black eyes and cropped ebony hair.
Nilor swore she could see herself in those deep pools, as the figure
sauntered toward her.
"I did not intend to startle you," the figure spoke in a husky tone
between a growl and a smooth whisper.
Without moving a muscle, Nilor observed as Woon rose to the newcomer's
height. The Lumberer set her jaw, as her strange companion's sap-like flesh
blurred into the reflection of the stranger's face.
"Adaptive, indeed," that low voice remarked, reminding Nilor of Kerad's
curiosity. "Whether predatorily or defensive in nature, a helpful strategy
to stop one in their tracks with the sight of their own face."
"Who are you?" Nilor willed her tone to remain steady while also
hoping to derail the tension between Woon and the new arrival.
"Your ancestors knew me as Echil, face of the Zaam," came the reply, as if
remarking on the weather.
"The Zaam?" Nilor breathed. "You built the Tower?"
The being—Echil—smiled. "My people constructed allof the Towers.
They help warm you on especially cold nights."
All at once, Nilor found herself blushing furiously, as Echil suddenly
vanished and re-appeared behind her. The way she could sense the Zaam sidle
up into her space caused both heat and fear to rise within the Lumberer's
chest.
Best keep her head on straight. Keep asking questions. "What … what are
the Towers made of?"
"All you need to know is they provide the gift of constant sunlight," that
voice replied. "Those like the Tabir and their Mak believe we abandoned the
seedlings. While the others have outgrown this world, I have remained."
Nilor frowned. "Seedlings?"
"Those of you who can die," Echil replied.
Nilor suppressed a shiver at the statement. "And … your face?"
A tingle erupted down Nilor's spine at the sensation of fingers threading
through her own short, dark hair, as Echil continued. "Scars, reflective of
my people's mission for progress. Not so different from your own. Now …
what do you know of the young soldier?"
Nilor had to pause to gather her thoughts amidst this newfound haze. "He
just landed not that long ago. Their leader says they want to trade with
the Opal."
"And what of these … visions?" that tone continued, like honey laced with
fire.
"He's only had one," Nilor replied, surprised at that bitterness rising
over this being asking after Joleh rather than her.
When Echil spoke again, her tone had grown stoic. "Nevertheless, this
is no coincidence. They are speaking to him—testing his people's value."
"Who are they?" Nilor immediately caught on.
This time, Echil spoke directly into Nilor's ear. "It is beyond seedling
understanding. I can only guide and advise … to ensure the Tabir do not
attack the Opal. War will only bring destruction far greater than you can
imagine—a nightmare from the stars. The very skyflame you see every night
remains as a warning of the last time they sought vengeance for my own
people's mistakes. Yours have chosen well in opting for peace thus far."
"You say I won't understand," Nilor focused on the shadows cast along the
tree trunk before her to clear her thoughts. "Try me."
The stretch of silence that ensued had Nilor wonder if the being had
departed, until …
"We were once like you," that voice continued, "as were those who threaten
us all. They will do whatever necessary to ensure their eventual
existence."
Nilor's mind spun with questions.
Mustering up the courage to finally turn around, she whirled to face the
Zaam—only to find herself staring into an empty clearing.
* * *
Back at the Palace, dawn had already settled upon the crystal spires.
Joleh was first to question Nilor's story. "It can't be. The Zaam haven't
yet returned."
"I saw her, clear as day," Nilor wouldn't be swayed.
"Only you say she came at night," Joleh remarked, once again igniting
Nilor's frustration.
"Be straight with me, Joleh," she demanded, stepping closer to the
soldier. "Does Mak Kerad plan to attack Woon's caves?"
Joleh waited barely a moment before hanging his head in silent affirmation.
"It's useless, Nilor," came Denir's voice from beside her. "Father doesn't
even believe they pose any threat."
Nilor turned to her friend. "Then, we have to convince him. Echil said if
we go to war, we will be done for."
Nilor and Woon approached Chief Yadaro at the foot of the Palace stairwell,
glancing at a departing Mak Kerad followed by several soldiers.
"Chief Yadaro," called Nilor, determined to convince him where Denir could
not, "please, you must ready your defenses. Cannons, all of it."
"Keep your voice down, child," the older man turned to her. "We must
maintain smooth relations with the Tabir—"
"Chief, they mean to attack the caves beneath the Diamond Tower!" Nilor
insisted, barely managing to avoid shouting in her desperation. "Denir
tried to tell you, and Joleh just admitted to it."
The Chieftain sighed. "By the Tower, Nilor. As much as I admire both you
and my daughter's drive, this metal the Tabir offer is something we cannot
pass up if we wish to fortify our houses better against the chill of the
cold season. Now please, I have matters to see to."
Staring in dismay at his retreating form, Nilor suddenly hadn't the energy
for the voice she heard next. "Nilor, have you s-seen Mak Kerad?" Joleh.
"She went off with some soldiers toward the forest," Nilor muttered,
barely glancing toward him. "But then, I suppose you expected that."
"I can g-get her to stop," Joleh insisted. "I know I can!"
Before Nilor could reply, Joleh sprinted toward the tree line.
Following in tow, Nilor hung back when the acrid stench of smoke reached
her nostrils, followed by Joleh's shout of protest as he stopped right
before the mouth of the cave across the narrowest stretch of river.
Not moments later, Nilor froze at the sight of flames licking the interior
of the caves behind the figure of the Mak and two soldiers.
"Don't grow soft on me now, boy," came Kerad's voice. "When you joined our
forces, you committed to vanquishing every threat."
"Those were l-living creatures!" Joleh's tone was livid. "They never
m-made anyone sick!"
"This nation was dead the moment that peasant stumbled on that pillar of
muck," Kerad seethed, and Nilor's fingers itched for her axe.
She watched as Joleh rubbed the already smeared gold paint from his face.
"I am no longer a p-part of the mission!" he stated, tone suddenly icy.
"You don't know what the Z-Zaam want!"
Joleh nearly collided with Nilor, casting her an anguished glance before
shaking his head.
Beside her, Woon trembled and took off toward the caves with a low, keening
rumble.
"Woon, stay away from there!" Nilor called before turning on Joleh.
Blinking back tears, she set her jaw against the shame of having actually
entertained the idea of bonding with him to learn more about her people's
history. "You told her where the caves were!"
Joleh backed up, as Nilor brandished her axe. "No, Nilor, I p-promise! I
t-tried to stop her! I was t-too late! I am so sorry!"
Nilor held her axe at the ready, lowering the metal just before it met the
tip of the soldier's nose. "I'm going after her—"
"No!" Joleh shouted. "P-please, she'll hurt you! They have guns …"
Joleh's voice slowed to an echoing drone, as Nilor sprinted past both the
soldier and Woon. Closing the distance to the clearing before the caves,
Nilor tossed her axe at Mak Kerad with a mighty cry.
The weapon pierced the older woman's vest, pinning her to a nearby tree.
Advancing on her target without a care for the two soldiers going for their
own weapons, Nilor stopped short at a sharp ache to the back of her head.
Vision swimming, she realized too late that Joleh must have struck her over
the head with his golden blade to knock her out—if he'd any dignity,
perhaps to spare her from the Mak's two guards.
Sure enough, Nilor maintained enough awareness to sense Joleh pulling her
away into the forest. She couldn't say how much time had passed, before
Denir's voice permeated the rustling of leaves beneath Nilor's limp form.
"You traitor! What have you done to her?"
"I was only trying to p-protect her!" came Joleh's voice from above.
At the clang of two objects meeting, Nilor forced herself to open her
eyes. The blurred picture before her showed Denir had engaged Joleh in a
fight with her diamond sword.
Using the weapon to disarm him of his gun before he could fire, Denir
ducked to avoid his attempt to trap her in a chokehold with his backup
triangular golden weapon. Following up with a blow to his gut that knocked
him off guard, Denir held her blade against his throat.
"Go, now," Denir seethed, barely loud enough for Nilor's ears.
"Before I change my mind."
A moment of silence passed before Joleh spoke once more. "Tell Nilor she
was right. I've seen Echil, too. I never should have doubted either of
you."
The crunching of leaves announced his final departure.
Vision finally clearing, Nilor forced herself to a sitting position. Denir
hurried to help steady the Lumberer, as Nilor held a hand to her throbbing
skull. "I …"
Denir cut her off with a palm over her mouth, as the Chieftain's daughter
crouched down beside Nilor. Nilor followed her gaze back to the clearing
where Kerad's guards still struggled to free their Mak from the tree trunk—
Until her gaze settled on Echil stepping into the clearing, directly before
the Tabir leader. Taking the opportunity to survey Echil in daylight,
Nilor's eyes took in the strange grey tunic that concealed the Zaam's
entire form.
"In need of some assistance?" that tone brought Nilor back to the moments
of sweet warnings in the dark.
Kerad looked to also be sizing up the new arrival. "Can we help you?"
Echil's gaze didn't waver. "You will leave this place. Now."
Her hands still free, Mak Kerad drew her small gun from her belt. "Just
what makes you think that you and your bizarre wardrobe have any
authority—"
Denir tensed beside Nilor, as Echil raised a hand, and the Mak's metal
weapon melted right before their eyes.
"No light shines on you," Echil deadpanned, as the Mak recoiled from the
metal that splattered to the forest floor just after burning the flesh of
her hand.
All at once, the Tabir seemed to realize she could simply tear her uniform
vest loose from the grip of the axe. Once free, she and the two soldiers
scattered.
Closing her eyes with a shaky sigh, Nilor re-opened them to find an empty
clearing once again.
Finally pulling herself to her feet, Nilor set eyes on a devastated Woon
returned from the caves.
Moments later, Chief Yadaro approached from the thick of the trees.
"There you are!" he exclaimed, embracing Denir. "I am so relieved you're
safe. I made a grave mistake not believing you girls. I am so very sorry."
Denir then glanced at Nilor and Woon. "And I am sorry, Woon. Nilor … are
you all right? I saw what Joleh did, and—"
"I'm fine," Nilor nodded. "Just glad to see that you're not hurt. I … want
to check on the Lumberer camp and the damage at the falls."
"Of course," Denir said. "Father, we'll catch up with you at the Palace."
With a reluctant nod, the Chieftain departed.
For what seemed like hours, Nilor and Denir gazed up at the Falls beneath
the Tower, still magnificent despite the damage inside the caves below.
Woon observed the cave entrance in silence, while Nilor finally gathered
the strength to recover her axe from the tree trunk in the clearing.
"It's already dark," Nilor remarked. "I must have slept all day. At least
the camp is safe."
"You were only out for a bit," said Denir. "Nothing I knew you couldn't
handle, Hackman."
Nilor smiled at the attempt at humor, as Woon settled beside her.
The Lumberer nodded. "Truth be told, I'm just glad you're all right, too.
The Tabir already destroyed Woon's home. If that horrible woman had done
anything to you, I …"
Nilor's breath caught, when Denir hushed her with a finger to the lips.
"The Tabir are gone," Denir assured her. "We're safe now. I suppose we
should thank the Zaam."
Giving in to the warmth spreading through her chest, Nilor rested her
forehead against Denir's. "No, future Chieftain—the Opal stand
strong. We always have and always will."
THE END
Copyright 2023,
Sarah Katz
Bio:
Sarah F. Katz is an author, screenwriter and film producer with
a background in cybersecurity. Her films and screenplays have placed in
the BAFTA and Oscar-qualifying Rhode Island International Film Festival,
Other Worlds Film Festival, L.A. Sci-Fi & Horror Film Festival, Indie
Suspense Horror Sci-Fi Film Festival, First Contact Film Festival,
IndieFEST Film Awards, American Screenwriters' Conference, Filmmatic
Screenplay Awards, Inroads Screenwriting Fellowship, Near Nazareth Film
Festival and Zed Fest Film Festival.
Her short fiction has appeared in 365 tomorrows, Aphelion Webzine, AHF
Magazine, Poetica Magazine, Scarlet Leaf Review and Thriller Magazine, with
the latter adapted into a short film telling indigenous Brazilian stories
through a science fiction prism. Her sci-fi novel Apex Five earned an
American Fiction Award, a Cygnus Book Award for Science Fiction, and a
Pinnacle Book Achievement Award.
Katz's non-fiction has appeared in Cyber Defense Magazine, Dark Reading,
Infosecurity Magazine, ISACA Journal, IT Governance Publishing and Jewish
Journal.
E-mail:
Sarah Katz
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