6. Kuret

6

Kuret

Ahead, the dense foliage breaks into a small valley, splitting into three winding paths, each veiled by thick greenery. I pause, scanning the options, but my decision is made for me when I hear it, the rustling of leaves, followed by the sickeningly familiar wet sound of the aliens.

I don't hesitate.

Following the noise, I move silently, keeping low as the plants close in around me. My senses are still slightly dulled from whatever they used to drug me, the lingering effects tugging faintly at my focus. But nothing can deter me now.

I crouch behind a wide, leafy plant, my movements slow and deliberate as I peer through the underbrush. The edges of my lips stretch into a smile when I finally spot one of them, stumbling clumsily into my line of sight.

It circles in place, searching for something it won't find. Instead it will meet its end.

The alien drifts closer to the giant plant shielding me, and I hold my breath, counting down the moments until it comes close enough for me to grab. When it's just within reach, the snap of a twig nearby pulls its attention away. The distraction is all I need.

I lunge from behind the tree, my battle cry ripping through the air as my hands slam into its wet slimy head. We tumble to the ground, and I drive my fists into its face, relishing the wet crunch beneath my knuckles.

It reaches for a weapon at its side, but I knock it away, pinning it under my knee on the ground. A sharp pain radiates through my abdomen. I glanced down to find the alien has driven a knife into me.

Because of the hardened muscle, it doesn't go all the way in. Gritting my teeth, I press my knees tighter against its sides, watching its eyes bulge as it squeals. It tries to struggle against me, but my knees and one hand have pinned its limbs to the side of its body so that it cannot access any of the surrounding weapons.

My strikes grow wild, fueled by rage, until I reach for its eyes. My fingers dig deep into its eye sockets, and with one violent pull, I tear them free. It makes one last pained sound and goes limp, gray blood and pink slime spurting from its injured body. I fling its eyes onto the lifeless form, hissing in disgust.

Wiping my bloodied hands against the dirt, I notice the even bigger pack strapped to its back. Intrigued, I crouch and attempt to undo it, only to find no clasp or buckle. Frustration prickles at me.

With a sharp tug, I pull the knife from my torso, bitting down on my tongue as if to reduce the pain. The taste of my own blood fills my mouth, a distraction. Dark green seeps from the wound, but I ignore it. I will clot soon enough. I can't afford to leave a trail.

Blade in my hand, I begin sawing through the alien's pack.

"You are the fourth one I have killed, but you will not be the last," I murmur under my breath and immediately I hear a soft gasp in the distance.

I whip my head around to search for the source of the sound, then I hear a female's voice being carried by the wind from the same direction.

"Greetings. Can we come down to speak to you? We do not mean any harm," she says, and I am taken aback.

Why would a female want to talk to me?

The first thing I note is the distance her voice is coming from. Not too far but also not close enough that I can directly locate her. Her voice is strange, stilted in my language, her accent clumsy yet deliberate. She is not one of my kind, but neither is she like the gray slime I just killed. My ears twitch, catching every nuance of her tone, even as my grip tightens on my knife.

It could be a trap. It may be a trick of the disgusting gray aliens. I don't doubt their ability to use something like this to lure me into a trap, even with their previous attacks being as direct as they were.

My arm works harder at sawing through the strap when I hear her again, her voice even more amplified this time. "My name is Ree, and I was taken by the hunters. I managed to escape and find an ally and we are looking for other allies. Can we come and speak with you?"

Hunters? I pause, considering. She must be above me, high in one of these towering plants.

I don't know if I should respond, but I decide that there is no harm in trying. I've never been without allies and having a friendly face that I can ask about the workings of this place and maybe even the location of more of the slimes to kill wouldn't hurt.

"Where are you?" I ask, keeping my tone guarded.

"Not far from you, up high in a tree ."

So that is what the giant plants are called.

"Are you alone?"

"No, I have a—" She hesitates briefly. "—a friend with me."

I run my tongue over my teeth, unsure. If they're larger or stronger than me, this could turn into a fight I'm not ready for. But if they're weaker, I could always deal with them later.

If they are friends, then they must both be female. Surely I can take on two females. The idea of it makes my marks pulse in horror, but I am injured and this is a new place, clearly full of dangers.

"Can you come down alone?" I ask.

"Sorry, no, but I promise we mean no harm," she assures me.

I make sure my weapons are placed correctly for easy access and that she understands just how serious I am. "I am Kuret. You can come down, but do not get too close. If you attempt to harm me, I will kill you and your friend."

She acknowledges my warning, her voice slipping into a hushed whisper as she speaks a different language I can't understand. I assume she is communicating with her friend and continue sawing through the bag, letting out a sigh of relief when it finally comes apart.

The silence of the forest is heavy, uninterrupted only by the distant hum of unseen creatures. Then faint, deliberate footsteps approach, soft yet precise. I want to step out from behind the large plant, but I am in too much pain from my wound. I can only keep my head low and watch a large, magnificent-looking beast walk toward me, its orange eyes glaring into mine.

Its eyes search me before it sits back, only a short distance away, orange and green fur waving in the wind when it spares a glance at the much smaller figure walking behind it. The female. I can't get a good look at her yet.

Its hands brush at its fur while serving as some kind of barrier between the female and where I am. I can barely make out more of her features than her oddly colored hair and eyes. Her skin is an odd pinkish color instead of gray, like our females.

A quick glance back confirms that she seems to breathe from the middle of her face instead of the sides of it. The sight of it unsettles me briefly, twisting my stomach. But I push the discomfort aside.

She speaks to me. "Hello Kuret, I am Ree, and this is Thivoll. Thank you for letting us come to you," she says, and I push myself up, standing tall despite the ache in my torso. I step into full view, watching her eyes widen slightly as they follow my movements.

"I will listen, but know I can defend myself if you try to harm me," I tell her, leaning my back against the tree bark for support. I make sure one of the weapons on my waist is visible, but she doesn't seem to catch it as she responds to me.

"I can see that. They hurt me too, me and my friends." I look over to the beast, eyes moving over its imposing frame and twitching tail.

The spike at the tip, poised and ready, leaves no doubt in my mind that it's venomous.

She must have seen the confusion on my face and lets out a small, pleased sound. "Not him. Thivoll actually saved me from them. They hurt him too, but he's healed now."

Her eyes soften as she looks at him, a glimmer of gratitude in her expression before she turns back to me.

"I killed three others a little distance from here," I inform her, a little confused at the ease of conversation between us but choosing not to question it just now. "They captured me from my home, and I don't know if I was the only one."

Her blue-green eyes dim with sadness. "Yes, they did the same to me, too. Changed me and a few others, gave us nanite translators , and treated us horribly. Luckily I found Thivoll, who they have been hunting. They are mostly hunters here, I think, not slavers. Thivoll is a manticorid, and I am human."

My jaw tightens when I imagine the females in the cloister going through the same torture.

"It is good we found each other," her tone lifting slightly. "Now I know there's someone else who hates the genali as much as we do." She lets out a trill of laughter, showing small, blunt teeth as her lips stretch.

I laugh too, appreciative of her humor. So that is what our enemy is called. I roll the name on my tongue, committing it to memory.

The laughter fades, and she turns to Thivoll, speaking in a language I can't understand. So this is what the nanite translators do? It seems like it is too useful to provide for someone and, once again, I feel suspicious.

I'd feel better with a knife in my hand, but something tells me I'd have that venomous tail flying at me faster than I could reach it.

She steps out from behind her manticorid protector, which means she must trust me more.

As she moves closer, my gaze takes in her full form for the first time. She is much smaller compared to the females of my species, her frame delicate but adult. Her features are striking yet strange, no marks, no ear spikes, no braids, blunt teeth, her coloring pale and her eyes a curious blue-green. Despite her differences, there's beauty to her, though she is closer in size to a youngling.

She wears a glossy black material, tightly covering her small frame. It outlines small breasts and pale skin where ours would be darker.

I look up at her "friend" and find that he is peering menacingly at me, orange eyes narrowing even as his lips move in response to Ree's words.

I do not believe they are friends, of course, that would be ridiculous. Just then, he says something that makes her laugh and slap a hand gently on his shoulder. Strange. She then turns over to look at me.

"I don't appreciate it when people look at me like that, Kuret. And Thivoll is thinking violent thoughts," she declares, the edge of her mouth twitching as if she is fighting back a laugh.

Realizing my mistake, I immediately bow my head in apology. However, I cannot help the question that shoots out of my mouth. "Is he your chosen donor? I assumed you were not compatible. Aren't you too young?"

She spoke about the genali, as she called them, abducting her and making changes to her. This manticorid looks older. His battle scars are visible across his body, and this purple-haired female does not look like she will be able to handle the sheer size of his children.

Still, I shouldn't have looked at her that way, regardless of how improper their relationship seems.

I shake my head as I continue to speak. "It is my error and a wound to my honor."

Despite my injury, my chest hurts, not just with pain but with regret. If I were at full strength, I'd challenge this manticorid for what I see as a grave violation, a young and fragile female being taken advantage of. Yet something in Ree's confidence tells me she is no victim, and it unsettles me further.