Chapter 14

I’m burning alive.At least, that’s what I assume for the first ten seconds after I wake up. Turns out it’s just the heat generated from the countless Lohnya bodies draped over and beneath me that’s got me struggling for breath like I’ve been trapped inside a sauna for a few hours too long.

I tap at the wing covering my face and make some panicky little noises that I’d take back if I could, but it’s so dark that I can’t fight my instinctive fear.

Someone shifts beneath me, and the whole tangled knot of us moves in response. Low groans vibrate, the sounds pulsing against my skin where I touch the others. Finally, a bit of light makes its way through a gap between someone’s arm and a folded up wing.

I push my flattened hand through the space, desperate for some fresh air, for even a hint of freedom. “Let me up!” I demand as I wiggle and turn, trying to work myself between the sleepy bodies like I’m escaping a caved-in tunnel.

Hands stroke across my hips and shoulders, and a talon nicks me right above my ass, but suddenly, the men peel away, rising to their feet one by one. Their outspread wings look even larger from this angle. I’m staring up at four men I only vaguely recognize, half dazzled by the intricate patterns I pick out on their wings. The flexible membranes are stretched out over all too fragile wing bones, made half transparent by the bright morning sun. Their veins are dark against those thin canvases, more compelling than the festival paint that covers the rest of their bodies.

Someone groans beneath me, and I see a large hand out of the corner of my left eye. He’s rubbing his face, if I’m interpreting it correctly. I blink up at the standing men, shading my eyes to get a better look.

“Zana?” The one on the left looks familiar, and he’s wearing red paint. Two of the others are covered in blue markings.

He crouches down, one knee hitting the ground as he lifts his wings behind him and offers me a hand. “Yes, Jace, it’s me. You slept well,” he adds as he helps pull me up.

I feel a little bad for the guy I sit on as I stumble to my feet, but I figure he knew what he was getting into when he joined this puppy pile. I’m afraid I didn’t. I don’t remember a damn thing, and that’s not a sensation I ever wanted to repeat.

I frown. My head doesn’t hurt, and I only had a sip of their liquor. Honestly, I don’t feel bad at all, which is downright bizarre considering the sleeping conditions and my compromised recall of the previous night. I look back, and Vozu lifts a hand and grins, still lying flat on his back and wings. The other man beside him just rolls closer, slinging a thick thigh over Vozu’s hip. My friend? Acquaintance? I still haven’t categorized Vozu, but he just smiles wider and pats the other guy’s folded wings. I’m surprised he can be comfortable like that, but then I notice the surface beneath us isn’t the hard rock I was expecting. I lift a foot and fine gray sand sifts between my toes.

“Follow us. Vozu and the others will come, too. We need to eat before today’s trials,” says Zana, calling my attention away from the lounging Lohnya behind me.

“What will we need to do today?” I ask. All around us, similar groups are rising from sand-filled depressions. I brush off a few grains that cling to my forehead and try to make out any familiar landmarks. “And where are we? I don’t remember coming here last night.”

One of the men covered in blue designs smiles brightly, cocking out a hip and flaring his wings. His natural coloration is striking, and the paint only adds to it. His hide is a sort of mottled charcoal, but his wings have several pale yellow ovals cut through with black. The thin, vertical lines in the center of each look like Lohnya pupils. I wonder if it’s entirely natural, or whether the Lohnya engage in any permanent body modifications.

“We were all passion-drunk, but luckily the elders lit the paths to guide us.” He tips his horns in my direction. “I wasn’t sure a human would respond the same as our people, but you seemed as if you belonged among us.”

“I don’t think our species are all that different,” I offer, hoping that’s both diplomatic and vague enough not to give him any ideas. Passion-drunk? Is that what we’re calling it now? I’m not exactly ashamed, but I’m not thrilled when I recall jerking myself in front of a willing audience. Hopefully Sohven won’t hold it against me.

“No, not at all,” the blue painted guy agrees. “I’m Ioa. I’ve chosen Zeema for my gazla.”

I give him a tight smile. “That’s nice.” Really creative there, Jace. I can’t help it that nothing better came to mind, but my trite response doesn’t seem to deter him any.

“Yes, Zeema is a worthy gazla. Walk with me, Jace of the humans. I’d like to tell you about him.” Ioa reaches for my hand and takes it in his surprisingly tight grip. I tug back a little, but he just squeezes harder.

“I’ll walk with you, but you need to let go. You’re hurting me.”

He drops my hand like he’s just accidentally touched the exposed side of an overworked engine. “Apologies, Jace.”

“It’s fine,” I tell him. I don’t miss that Zana and the others wearing Sohven’s red vossan don’t look too pleased about my new companion. Maybe I’m breaking more taboos by mingling with another gazla’s suitors, but I think Zana would speak up if it was really a problem.

“Good,” replies Ioa. “Zeema admires you. He told me so after the feast.”

“Umm…” That night sleeping in the open wasn’t as rough as I’d anticipated, but I’m still feeling a little foggy, and I’m definitely not ready to navigate this particular conversation.

Ioa slips his fingers around my arm and pets me like a cat. “You’re so soft, so delicate. Even if you can’t lay yourself, you’d be so gentle with our nestlings.” His eyes are shining as if he can already see this improbable future. He tips his head closer so the others won’t hear. “Zeema is younger than Sohen. He’s more virile, capable of pleasing a large nest, and the rest of us would be happy to pleasure you as well.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m only interested in one gazla. I’m sure your nest will be full enough without me,” I tell him, falling back to walk beside another guy in red. I nod at the man I barely remember from yesterday’s festivities. Ioa smiles at me briefly, but continues on, seemingly content to let me go. “So what’s the first trial? Can you tell me?” I ask, turning towards my new companion.

The tips of his ears fold back shyly. “Yes, it isn’t a secret. The first day is the water trial. We’ll be hunting for sahvatso at one of the lakes chosen by the elders. The gazlas will watch from the eyrie—they save the recordings of each trial. My own fathers showed me their trials before I left to join Fallil Eyrie’s festival.”

“You’re from a different eyrie?” I ask and then gasp as a particularly pointy stone hits the arch of my foot.

He moves closer, eyes running up and down my body. “Are you injured?”

“No, I’m just not used to going barefoot. Usually humans wear foot coverings. My skin isn’t as thick as yours,” I tell him with a shrug.

“That’s unfortunate. Perhaps there’s something that could be done to make you more durable.” He frowns slightly at my feet before glancing back up. “Yes, I’m from a different eyrie. Although a few here are from Fallil, it isn’t safe to form too many mate bonds from within the same eyrie. Most of us participating in the festival traveled from other settlements.”

“Why did you choose to come here instead of another eyrie?”

“I wanted to join Sohen’s nest. The Onava lineage is well-respected, and Fallil is a prosperous eyrie. The location alone made it my top choice, but many chose to declare for Fallil when news of Sohen’s return reached us. I’m not the only one with an older nestmate who would’ve chosen Sohen had he remained on Lohnyal and set up his nest during his appointed year.”

I don’t bother reminding him that Sohen’s not looking for other mates. I’ve already told them multiple times, and no one seems inclined to listen, so I save my breath.

“How’d you find out—about Sohen, I mean.”

He looks at me like maybe I’m a little slow. “He was added to the records. They’re easily accessible.”

I nod, although I’m wondering what they use to disseminate that type of information. I haven’t seen anyone walking around with handheld or wearable communication devices or noticed people stopping to scan any screens. At first glance, it all appears pretty low-tech here, but I’ve already been reminded more than once that was false.

“Do we get to use weapons during the hunt today?” I ask.

“Weapons? Oh, yes.” He curls his talons towards his palm and grins. “Although some of us enjoy natural hunting, sahvatsoare too large and dangerous to rely on talons alone. We use spears. Don’t worry—Sohen seems determined to have you. Even if you’re unable to catch one, he’ll accept you. Maybe one of the later trials will be more suited to your…attributes.” He gives my body a doubtful look that has my hackles rising.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty good in the water.”

He looks back towards Zana and then at me again, smiling crookedly, like he’s not sure how to keep the human appeased. “We will see,” he says.

I may not know what a sahvatso is, but I’m going to do my best to catch one, if only to prove him wrong. I want to show off for Sohven, to demonstrate that even though he’s only choosing one mate at the end of this, I earned the honor.

Luckily for my poor feet, we reach a partially sheltered area with several large containers lined up against a rock wall. We’re not the first to arrive, so other Lohnya are already digging through the contents and picking out what they want to eat.

I search the groups behind me for Vozu, giving him a nod when I catch his eye. He moves faster to join me.

“So, what can you tell me about sahvatso?” I ask. “Are they actually dangerous like that Ioa guy said?”

Vozu hums deep in his throat, buying himself a little time to reply. “I’ve never heard of one killing an adult Lohyna, but they do bite. A few of my nestmates who had similar trials showed their wounds to me after their mating ceremonies were complete.”

I try not to reveal how unappealing this underwater hunt is starting to sound. At first, I thought I was in luck with a nice, scheduled swim, and maybe some spear fishing, but I didn’t plan on coming away from this vacation with scars.

“What do they look like?”

Vozu’s arms stretch out far past both sides of his body. He’s got his hands extended, palms facing inwards. “About that long from nose to tail.”

“Hmm,” I say before my tongue clicks against the roof of my mouth. Vozu has very long arms. The picture he’s painting isn’t promising.

“Stay clear of the tails,” he adds. “They’re split and flexible, and they sting. Like I said, their teeth can cause some damage, but they’re not as fast as we are. Come, let’s find something to eat. We’ll need our strength for the trial.”

He motions for me to follow him over to where the rest of the crowd is still pawing through the food stores. Vozu pulls something from the nearest container and tosses it my way. Whatever it is feels warm beneath the wrapping. It doesn’t taste half bad either, although I only eat about a third of it. I don’t want to swim with a heavy stomach.

Everyone seems more relaxed this morning, so I try to shake off my worries. If this hunt was truly hazardous, they wouldn’t be smiling and lounging. I roll my shoulders back and run a hand through my hair.

I end up getting caught up in the view again. We’re far from the cliff’s edge, but that glorious vista is spread out before me looking close enough to touch. The sky is a sort of pale green layered with fluffy peach clouds. The large sun is currently half hidden behind one of them. Other rock formations dot the plains in the far distance. I narrow my eyes. There’s what looks like some sort of structure down there.

“Here,” someone says as a smooth pouch is shoved against my hand. “Water,” the man tells me.

“Thanks.” I glance up, but although he’s wearing Sohven’s red vossan, I don’t recognize him.

“We need to travel to the lake the elders chose. I can fly you down if you wish.”

“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”

I lift up the pouch and search for an opening. At the feast last night, they passed around large cups that we shared, sort of the warm-up version of the chalice at the hot pools, but nothing like this. Luckily, this man decides to take pity on me and circles his talon over a mark on the bottom of his pouch. I turn mine upside down and jam my pinky finger against the small depression. I guess I have enough of a nail growing there to activate it, because water starts spurting out the top. I get my mouth over the opening and wiggle my finger out when I’ve had enough.

“I guess that works a bit better with talons, huh?” I say to my companion. “What’s your name?” I figure if I’m going to be all up in his business shortly like a koala wrapped around its favorite branch, we should at least be on a first name basis.

“I’m Ulya.” He’s eyeing me up, but with none of the sexual interest so many of the Lohnya have displayed. This is more scientist in the lab, and I’m the specimen on the slide.

“What is it? Is something wrong?” I jab the bottom of the pouch and take another drink, coordinating it better this time so I don’t end up with a faceful of water.

“No, nothing. I was just thinking how difficult it must be for you to have pledged yourself to a life here without knowing the challenges you’d face.”

I just barely keep my eyebrows from raising. I’ve got to hand it to him, Ulya knows how to deliver a smooth insult. Yep, Jace the human, defeated by the canteen mechanism.

“I guess it’s a good thing I enjoy a challenge,” I reply. “Anyway, I’m not staying here. Sohen and I have a life up there.” I nod my head towards the sky, but Ulya’s giving me the same smugly knowing look all the Lohnya use when I contradict them about me and Sohven.

Ulya’s wings shudder, causing a series of noisy slaps to follow. It sounds like someone just shook out a tarp. “Up there,” he mimics, giving my voice a false whiny quality that I swear it doesn’t possess, “is no place for a successful nest. Our people don’t belong in the great void. No Lohnya would permit any of our young to be taken there—ever. You won’t be leaving.”

I swallow down my objections, because it’s obvious arguing now wouldn’t be in my best interest, but I definitely need to talk to Sohven as soon as possible. I’m not so thirsty or hungry anymore, and I scan the area for somewhere to drop my canteen. A few other guys are tossing them in a crate by the side of the rock formation. I nod at Ulya and start walking that way when his voice stops me.

“Find me when it’s time to leave,” he says.

I glance back and give him another curt nod. I can feel him watching me as I walk away, but I try to appear relaxed and unaware. I place my canteen in the crate and rub my eyes, tilting my head back to see how high up the little peak beside us goes. It’s not as impressive as the prominence where the gazlas began their flight the other day, but it’s still high enough it’d hurt if I tried hanging out on any of the artificial branches extending out of the rock face and fell.

Six or seven Lohnya are balanced on those branches. They look delicate, yet they’re sturdy enough to support full grown Lohnya men, so I imagine they’re safer than they look. Still, I wish the man standing one foot in front of the other at the end of the farthest branch would at least extend his wings for balance. I can’t help but worry he might not have time to save himself if he makes a wrong move.

Vozu looks up from the food crates and stares a bit before he straightens up and walks over to me. “Are you ready?” he asks once he’s close enough to talk quietly.

“Yes.” As ready as I can be.

“Weapons and breathing devices will be waiting for us by the lake.”

That has me perking up. “Breathing devices?”

“Yes.” He frowns as he inspects the top of my head. “I believe one should still fit tightly enough to function, even without horns. You may feel some extra drag on the horn pieces, but I’ll do my best to adjust it for you.”

“Thanks, Vozu. How’s the water down there? Clear, cold?”

His wings shift up higher above his shoulders. “It won’t be like the pools last night.”

Cold it is, then.

“It depends which lake the elders have chosen, but from the trials I’ve watched before, I know they usually illuminate the area within the hunting boundaries.”

“That’s the second time someone’s mentioned watching the trials, but I haven’t seen anyone with any sort of device for viewing media files.”

Vozu’s mouth lifts at the corners. “Who here needs such a device when we’re the entertainment? I’ll show you how to view our trials afterwards when we’re all settled in our nest.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to correct him, to remind him that the cozy afterwards he describes won’t happen, but I save it for later.

“I’ll take you down once they give us the location,” he says.

“Ulya already offered.” Vozu’s wings flutter behind him as he lifts the bulk of them back and up. “Hey, I’d prefer you take me down, too, but I didn’t want to insult him. It seemed like the best thing to do was accept.”

“I’ll fly below you—just in case,” Vozu says and gives me a tip of his horns. “We should go to the others.”

I didn’t even notice that everyone else had abandoned the crates of food and drink, but Vozu’s right. The rest of the group, bar a few stragglers, is already assembled in a tight half circle facing out towards the cliff’s edge.

We start walking together. It’s bright enough now I can avoid most of the rocks and pebbles strewn across the broad path, and I’m thankful for it. A faint rustling sound comes from behind us, but it’s not until feet thud against the ground that I realize one of the men from above has just jumped down to join us.

He slips his way between us, his pale yellow vossan fading almost to nothing against his milky hide under the now bright morning sun. “I’ve been waiting to meet you, outsider,” the man says.

“I hope it was worth the wait,” I mutter. My sarcasm would definitely not fall under approved first contact protocol. “Hello,” I say louder to make up for it.

“Are you capable of speaking our language, or will you be forever limited to that skith device?” He taps the side of his head beneath his ear cavity.

Vozu’s wings rise behind him and he blocks the other man’s way. “Skith devices allow us to communicate with our distant nestmates. They allow us to trade for the materials we need for our settlements to prosper. Watch your words.”

The pale Lohnya eyes me up slowly this time, lingering at my feet, groin, and face. It’s easy to imagine he’s cataloging my weaknesses, but he doesn’t confirm it. “Fair winds today. Be careful during the trials.”

Then he runs forward before leaping into the air. I blink and cover my eyes. It’s not too dusty here, but his wings still kicked up something into the air, and it burns. He’s flying away while the rest of us trudge forward.

“Friend of yours?” I ask Vozu.

His mouth draws into a thin-lipped, dour expression I’m quite familiar with. I’ve received it enough times from Sohven that I have no issues interpreting its meaning.

“He’s right. You should be careful. I’ll stay close while we’re underwater.” Vozu says and nods like he’s settled everything with a few offhand words.

“Fine. Let’s go faster—the others are leaving us behind.” I brush my hair off my forehead and pull ahead of Vozu, determined to show the Lohnya and myself that I can handle their trials as long as they give me a chance.

A few other Lohnya take to the sky, flying the distance between the spot where we ate and where a group of three elders waits. By the time we reach them, my shins are coated in a light layer of fine sand and grit. I’m sweating enough to start worrying about chafing, and despite the fearsome description I received of the sahvatso, I’ll gladly risk facing one for the relief of cool water.

We sort of drift into nine groups, one for each gazla. Ioa and the other Lohnya with Zeema’s blue vossan are standing next to us, and he’s still not shy about meeting my eyes. A few others I haven’t met yet are looking my way, but the majority are facing the three elders, eager to listen to whatever pronouncement they’re about to give.

Maybe they really have all watched trials like this beforehand. Everyone seems to know just what to do. They go quiet over the span of a few seconds, no small feat considering the size of this gossiping crowd.

The smallest of the elders raises his arms and tips his head back, eyes closed. “Feel the winds’ embrace. Take their strength with you as we venture to the plains below to rid our lands of the sahvatso that would endanger our young. The trials begin at Jovas Lake. Go! Prove to your gazlas that you deserve their favor!”

A few men are already running for the edge of the cliff before the elder even lowers his arms. I swallow over a sudden lump in my throat. This is going to be a lot different from flying half blind with Sohven through Sannaveh’s trees. I exhale through my nose. I’ve survived far worse than this, but it’s difficult to believe it right now.

I really wish it was Vozu taking me down, but the point of this whole excursion is to ingratiate myself with Sohven’s people until the ritual is done. When Ulya marches my way, I walk over to meet him.

His nostril slits flare open as he gives my body the same dissatisfied once-over as the Lohnya with the yellow vossan. “We have harnesses for flying with our disabled and elderly, but you should be strong enough to hold on.”

He steps forward so that we’re chest to chest, but he doesn’t make any other move to assist me. I guess I better just take the bull by the horns and hope for the best. Luckily there are enough animals out there similar to Earth’s cattle that it’s easy to imagine how that metaphor would play out, although I have no intention of actually grabbing any other man’s horns than Sohven’s. I shake off the thought and wrap my arms around his neck and jump on, locking my ankles around his waist. His wings snap back at the touch of my feet. It seems he’s not a fan, but I don’t see any other way to do it.

“Will this work?” I ask.

A strangled sound dies in his throat before Ulya replies. “Yes,” he says, arms closing over my back. He rocks onto his heels before he starts to move. “Don’t let go.”

With that inauspicious warning, his wings begin sweeping back and forth, and my nails bite into my wrist as Ulya runs us right off the edge of the cliff.

Holy shit. Zero stars, would not recommend—anyone who’d tell you different is lying. Flying when you can’t see where you’re going is not for the faint of heart, and I’m not as brave as I like to pretend. It’s also cold. Ulya’s torso keeps my chest and inner thighs from going numb, but the rest of me is buck ass naked, and that vossan isn’t doing anything to protect me. I suspect by the time we land at this lake, I’m going to be a shivering, shaky disaster.

In the end, I close my eyes. They’re already watery from the dry wind, and I can hardly see anything past Ulya’s wings as it is. I doubt he’ll offer to do this a second time. I’m clinging too tightly, but I can’t help it. There’s no way to feel secure, not when gravity taunts me the entire flight, tugging and pulling at my limbs. My head feels like a lead weight, and I can barely manage to keep my cheek pressed to Ulya’s shoulder. I’m a constant second away from death. All it would take is one slip of my wrist and then I’d be falling, no parachute, no soft landing in sight.

I want to think of something good, but my mind refuses to cooperate. I just keep counting, one, two, three, four—all the way to sixty. I do it over and over, but we’re still going. I’m not sure if the lake is just that far away or whether I’m counting too fast for any accuracy. It could be that minutes have passed, or it might be an illusion.

We start to slow down. It’s subtle, but even without looking, I can feel the change. Keeping my face tucked against Ulya, I peek through half open eyes. I can’t see the ground, but the gray block of the eyrie’s cliff is high above us now. We’re too far to make out the people who remained behind. A few dark silhouettes dot the rock, but otherwise there’d be no way to distinguish the place from any other stretch of cliffside in the region.

Ulya’s arms tighten hard across my back, forcing a gasp past my lips. It hurts, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. My body tenses in response as I brace myself for whatever comes next—hopefully a landing. I hitch my hips up and press myself even closer, shamelessly nudging my face into the space between Ulya’s shoulder and neck.

I’m grateful for it when we hit the ground. His body cushions the blow, but it’s still a bit of a production, dirt clouding around our legs as his chest heaves from the effort. His wings remain outstretched, trembling, as he finally releases his arms.

I try to let go, but I can’t seem to uncurl my fingers. It’s like that icy air froze me in place, and I can’t quite thaw enough to move, even though I want to.

“You’re harder to bear than a youngling,” says Ulya with a dry huff.

No shit, Sherlock.“Thanks for the ride. I’ll find someone else to take me back up later. I know I’m heavy.”

“No.” One word, curt and final. “I didn’t say I couldn’t do it. You’re to be one of my mates. I’ll need to accustom myself to your weight.” He dips his horns towards me and strides off, apparently eager to get right to the lake’s narrow strip of shoreline.

I follow after, slowly. My poor limbs require the extra time for my blood to start circulating properly again. I don’t notice any recording devices, but the area is large and they’d be easy enough to miss if whatever the Lohyna use is small or camouflaged. It’s small comfort to know that somewhere up there Sohven might be watching.

Most of the others are already standing around a few piles of gear. I definitely affected Ulya’s flight speed. I’m pretty much all by my lonesome back here, although I catch a few of the guys in red scanning for stragglers. Zana lifts an arm and waves, and I give him a tentative wave back.

When I reach the supplies, there are only a few spears left, and Vozu is holding what looks like a full face mask, horn-shaped coverings included, just like he told me before. It’d be generous to describe the whittled stick spears I made on Sannaveh in the same sentence as the Lohnya weapons. I pick one up and shift it from hand to hand. It’s made from some sort of metal, light, yet it has enough heft to feel good beneath my grip. The pointed end is large enough to cause me to swallow down a fresh mouthful of unease. My muscles are stiff from the flight and jittery with adrenaline at the same time. It’s an unnerving sensation.

I run the side of my finger lightly over the edge of the spearhead. Each side curves inward at the end, forming a barb that’ll keep it from sliding loose if I manage to hit our quarry.

“Let me fit your mask. Follow the lights when you go underwater. One of the elders will throw the bait to call out the sahvatso once we’re all ready.” Vozu shows me the breathing device and steps closer. “Stay at my side—I’ll protect you,” he tells me right before he pushes the mask against my face.

I inhale deeply, then panic when I can’t seem to exhale properly. Vozu doesn’t notice and works at adjusting some straps at the back of my head. If I pretend I’m forcing the air out through a narrow tube, just a little bit at a time, I can manage to regulate my breathing.

He pats my shoulder, and when I turn around, he pulls up a cuff hanging from a line on the spear—harpoon is probably the more accurate term—and fastens it over my left wrist. Then he crouches down to pick up another mask, presumably for his own use. I quickly switch the cuff over to my opposite wrist, giving it a good tug to ensure it’s secure. Then I turn towards the lake. There’s nothing else I can do to prepare. My hand tightens around the harpoon’s shaft as I take a few more steps towards the shoreline.

There’s a thin border of fine sand, light gray in color, marking the borders of the lake. I’m hopeful this means the vegetation beneath the surface might be kept to a minimum. I’m not interested in squirming my way through a kelp forest or anything similar.

True to his word, Vozu pulls up at my side when I hesitate to go further. I’m not going to be the first one to take on those waters. His right wing nudges against my shoulder.

An unpainted Lohnya walks up to us, strolling across the low scrub of the surrounding field like this is just a typical morning in his life. He doesn’t appear much older than the rest of them here, and he has a jaunty little roll to his stride. His stone-like face goes suddenly mobile, a wide, easy smile cracking the facade. He lifts up what looks like a weapon and the Lohnya around me alternately chuff and make a low hooting sound. Our new arrival spreads his wings and spins slowly, showing us the full breadth of him. He smiles again and shakes the large tube-shaped item, drawing out some more raucous noises from our group.

“I see you’re eager for the trials to begin!” His gaze sweeps the assembled Lohnya, stuttering a little when he comes to me, but his grin doesn’t falter. “Bring your kills up to the shore. Happy hunting, and remember, your gazlas are watching.”

Ioa and several others wearing blue vossan rush into the water first. The others start moving forward, and I stretch my neck as well as I can while wearing the breathing device before I follow. I have to stop myself from jumping when my right foot touches the shallow waves rippling at the edge of the lake. It may not be an ice bath, but the water is plenty cold. I’ll need to make this fast if I want to get out of this trial without developing hypothermia.

The mask feels heavy on my face. My peripheral vision is limited by the design of the visor, and my hot breath has the piece over my mouth and nose feeling slick against my skin. I sure hope Vozu fastened it tightly enough. I don’t know how deep we’re going to have to go to find any of the sahvatso.

I can’t help but notice that everyone else seems unbothered by the cold, and I force myself to move faster. I don’t have time to acclimate to the temperature. I don’t want to look like a coward in front of Sohven and his family, much less the other men here. I look down, but I can barely make out my feet, and I hope it’s due to the crowd of us kicking up silt from the lakebed and not the natural state of the water. That’ll add a layer of difficulty to this hunt that I don’t need.

Another shiver slips past me, making my shoulders twitch as the water seeps beneath the back of the mask. I’ll find out soon if the seal around the breathing apparatus holds, hopefully before I’m too deep to surface if need be. I’m neck deep now, and there’s no use in delaying any longer. I bring my arms forward and dive in.

It takes me a moment to open my eyes, but when I do, the scene is nothing like I expected. Lights glow in the distance, beckoning me to swim forward. Large boulders lay scattered across the bottom of the lake, covered in yellow and orange algae that look like lace. Webs of the stuff drift on unseen currents, and the thought of them plastered against my skin makes me want to retch. The good news is that I’m breathing just fine. I kick harder, propelling myself deeper.

It’s not as crowded as I imagined it’d be. True, several Lohnya are only a brief swim away, but the lake easily swallowed up our numbers. My breaths echo in my ears along with the thud of my heartbeat. I tip my head back, but the mask cuts down on my range of motion, and I end up going belly up just trying to get a glimpse of the surface.

I’m down deeper than I thought. My skin looks colorless at this depth, wan and lifeless. Even the red vossan appears bleached out and muddy. I right myself and continue swimming towards the lights. It’s brighter up ahead than it is above me now. Pressure builds between my ears. I shake my head and try to clear it. I can’t reach my nose without pulling off the breathing device, and the material is too solid for it to make any difference when I try to pinch it and force the Valsalva maneuver.

I ignore the discomfort the same way I push past the cold. If I just keep moving, I can ignore it. I reach for the glowing depths, determined to get this over and done with. There are a few translucent star-shaped creatures floating here and there, but the lake seems strangely empty outside of the Lohyna swimming alongside me. There’s no sign of any man-sized beasts that need slaying.

When I’m firmly within the large circle of lights, I take a moment to look around. No one else is moving any longer. We’re all just working to stay in our chosen places, but the Lohnya are looking up. I’m upright in the water now, doing my best to stay down as I wait. I try tipping my whole body back a bit to get a hint of what they’re watching. I cough as I inhale too much air at once and forget to move my arms just as a shower of red spills through the water from above.

My right hand clenches over the harpoon’s shaft. If I didn’t have a good guess of what it was, the blood swirling its way down might be beautiful. As it is, the lazy, lyrical flow has my throat closing up. Large chunks are coming down along with the liquid. I can’t smell the chum, but the Lohnya are shifting jerkily, wings that had been tucked back tight rustling out of place as the fingers not wrapped around their harpoons tighten into gnarled shapes like tangled roots, the better to slice and rend with their talons.

I scan my surroundings, searching for any shadows that seem out of place, for the gleam of eyes that don’t belong to the Lohnya. When the first sahvatsu appears, it doesn’t seem like much. I’d imagined a monster, but its body is slim and narrow, almost like an eel, but much larger. Its frilly tail is pretty like a beta. One of the Lohnya releases his harpoon, and the creature jerks and writhes under the impact, but soon grows limp and still as the hunter swims towards the surface, his quarry in tow.

Another sahvatsu darts quickly towards the chum, a blur amid the haze of dirty red. I could make a play for that one, or wait for a closer animal to emerge. The choice is soon taken away when another man swims towards it first.

Sohven’s watching. I don’t want to just wait here for something to happen, so I dive down towards a pile of rocks a little to the right of the area where the chum is concentrated. I’m hoping it’s a likely hiding spot. I shift my hand on the harpoon, getting ready to throw it if I see anything move down there. I’m so focused on what lies below that I don’t bother to look up. Not until the back of my neck prickles with gooseflesh.

Something’s there. Something’s looking at me.

I lift my head and almost drop the harpoon. It’s massive. The dark, algae streaked body in front of me easily overshadows mine. I’m small fry to this creature. The sahvatsu has the same dead-eyed look common to many predators. It appears neither hungry nor angry, yet I know that won’t stop it from taking a bite out of me if it feels so inclined.

Its skin is bumpy, covered with large, irregular scales in dull brown. There’s a primordial feel to it, only intensified as it unhinges its jaw, revealing three long rows of conical teeth. They’re meant to penetrate and hold, just like the barbed tip of my harpoon. I need to move, but I’m fucking up, freezing like a new recruit facing his first firefight. The creature is just so large, so menacing. It’s like a cloud of hostility’s rolling off the thing, muddying up the water, knocking me off balance.

I see its next move coming the instant it begins. The rough shudder through the center of its body telegraphs its intent. That big split tail is coming my way, and the frilly, delicate ends are revealed in all their deadly glory. They glow, signaling the threat they pose loud and clear. The sahvatsu’s jaw drops further, expanding impossibly wide. I’m looking my fate directly in the throat, and I refuse to accept it.

I’m too close for a good throw, but I bring my arm back anyway. My grip tightens and I ready myself for impact. I’ve been surrounded by the over-loud sounds of my own body for so long that the shrieking cry of the creature shocks me. My body flails as I struggle for control. The tail sweeps toward me as the gargantuan jaw slams closed. I thrust my arm forward and hope for the best. This is either the beginning or the end. My last thought is that I hope Sohven isn’t watching, after all.