Mapoza fiddled with the chain at her throat. Its thinness felt fragile in her grasp, yet nothing seemed to be able to break it. Not wrestling, climbing, or even the vicious tugging she subjected it to when the nerves hit.
Right now, the nerves were hitting.
With a deep breath, she allowed herself to peer down the eighty-foot drop. The glittering river below looked still and serene. Its sheer blue depths invited her to let go. The vine she clung to swayed in the wind. She tightened her grip, heart pounding. Slow as a sloth, she released a hand and gripped a higher part of her lifeline. She repeated the action. Sheer rock face loomed in the background, mocking her every move. It’s stoic, gray glare dared her to keep climbing. To believe she belonged out here in this lonely paradise.
A rush of wind ruffled her curls. Something beat in her ear. Black wings spread before her in ten feet of majesty. She yelped, frozen like a lizard curled around a twig. The Black Eagle soared higher and higher until it disappeared over the horizon. As she watched its fearless route, the tension inside broke. Peace rolled over her hunched shoulders.
“Are you done trying to kill yourself yet?” The boyish tone carried hints of manhood, but the skinny frame behind it could have passed for thirteen. Even though both children had just turned seventeen. But duendis often looked young compared to men. Perhaps because they lived to be hundreds of years old, they took longer to mature. When it came to her brother, she thought he’d never mature.
“You missed seein’ the world’s biggest Black Eagle.” As she called, she searched the horizon once more. The proud image still flew in her head. I’m gonna get Chancey to tattoo it. Swinging her legs and rocking her body, she created enough momentum to get herself to the rock face. Reaching out, she grabbed ahold and climbed up to safety.
Mathias fidgeted with rope, knotting and unknotting it as his sandy-colored face twisted in concentration.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to learn a new knot. Galleon said it was infallible, whatever that means.”
She shrugged. “Galleon’s got more big words than a trees got leaves.” Eyeing him a moment, she shook her head at his determined expression. “You and your knots.”
He ignored her, as usual. She huffed and scanned the golden Autumn treeline.
Acres of forest separated them from the nearest civilization. It had to be that way. Men did not take kindly to duendi, and duendi had little time for men. But the forest was enough for her. The nectar scented air, the vine-draped trees, and soft, leaf-covered dirt had always been her home. And they always would.
***
“Chief! Chief! They’re coming.” The young duendi’s flushed cheeks trembled as he stopped short.
“Who’s coming?”
Like a cornered animal, his gaze darted about, haunted by chaos. “The Burners.”
The muscles of the man’s face drew tighter and tighter. An icy glint steeled his expression. “They will not pass our Archers. The Hunters have been watching the camp line. You can not see them, but they protect us from the treetops. We are safe.”
Jagua shook his head, the wooden beads in his hair clattering. Flaring his nostrils, he pointed back in the direction he came. “I saw them marching. Strong men. At least 80. Each bigger than the last. They held spears and swords. Red and black paint smeared their cheeks. The colors of determination and respect. They are coming ready for war.”
Malaki straightened. The Burners had threatened their land before. Many times. But their war paint did not give them miraculous abilities. Hidden in the high treetops and clothed in thick leather hides, the Archers could easily pick them off with minimal harm to themselves. Turning, he barked an order to his first in command. “Asif. Sound the alarm.”
Asif took off at a run. Behind him, a series of hammocks fluttered in the breeze. Duendias and their young played or cooked over open campfires. A few had made stoves from the smooth, creek-bed stones and were searing their husband’s or son’s game. Wildflower garlands hung from the trees overhead. Thick quilts spotted the ground and babies crawled over them laughing and rolling. Only a few days had passed, but already they had started to make it a home. Duendias were nomadic females, just like their male counterparts. There is nothing a duendias can not turn into a home. His chest swelled. And nothing duendis can not protect. His racing heart stilled for half-a-second before resuming its anxious beat.
Leveling his gaze at Jagua, he studied the boy. “Go and prepare the duendias. Tell them danger is on the horizon, and to be ready. But do not give them cause to panic. Speak calmly.”
Jagua deflated for a moment before setting his shoulders. “Yes, Chief.”
***
“I was about to grab that.” Mathias entitled tone grated on Mapoza’s ears.
She took a step back, gripping her newfound prize. Long and supple, the perfect stick felt solid in her grasp. Dropping it into the sack slung across her back, she grinned at Mathias. “But you didn’t.” Ulfo would be proud. The fifty-year-old duendi was the youngest ever to become an Archer, and he, somehow, had a soft spot for Mathias and herself. “There are 3 things you look for in a good stick to make an arrow,” he’d instructed them. “Strength. Suppleness. And length. If any of these aren’t what they should be, then you can consider the battle lost.” Now, she had one with all three.
Spotting another one that almost looked right, she bent down to collect it. A presence filled her senses and a weight dropped from her back. Mathias is taking my sticks! Balancing on one leg, she spun and backkicked her brother in the stomach.
Gasping, he dropped the pile of sticks stolen from her bag. Her punch sailed into the air as he ducked. Lightning fast, he gripped her wrist and twisted her arm behind her back. She elbowed him in the liver. His grunt of pain satisfied her.
“Get back to camp. The Burners are coming!” Jagua sprung into the clearing like a wild hare.
Mapoza took advantage of Mathias slack-jawed disbelief to swoop op her prize. Ulfo will need these. And he’ll be proud of me for bringin’ them.
Apparently locked into the same thought, Mathais glared at her.
“I have to go.”
“No.” Jagua sprung in front of her.
She curled her lips. “I have to go.”
“It’s not safe.” Jagua stared down at her. Hard as stone, he stared down at her. His usual unsure caramel eyes suddenly held determination and fire. His skinny body stretched out like a birds as he blocked her from her next step. She tried to shoulder past him, expecting him to give way. To bow to her will.
He pushed back.
Mathias approached her form behind. “He’s right. It’s not safe. We need to get back to camp. All of us.”
Spinning on her heels, she spat at her brother. “You’re just jealous because I have something to give Ulfo that’ll make him…” Cutting short, she grew hot. Respect me, she finished to herself, but she’d die before admitting that to them. Even though Mathias felt the same way. That was obvious by the way he bragged anytime he came within one-hundred feet Yesterday, he claimed to have wrestled bears when they lived in the mountains. Once, he’d swore he’d tied a cobra into a knot and used it as a rope.
A beat drummed around them. They exchanged glances. Fear noosed her heart. It picked up speed. The steady rhythm broke into half-beats followed by deep thuds.
“That’s their war cry.” Jagua accused her. “I told you. We need to get back.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “Okay.”
The boys wasted no time, ushering her towards the main camp. Her treasure sack weighed on her heart. It didn’t matter now. It wasn’t like the sticks would do any good until someone fashioned them into arrows. She huffed. At least she’d have something to do while the camp was locked down.
***
The night was long and cold. Fireless by order of Chief Malaki. Though it made no sense to Mapoza why they had to go fireless if the Burners already knew where they were. Halfway through the night, shouting and the rumble of conversation woke her. She sat up in her hammock, and the cool night air made the hair of her arms prickle. Grabbing her cloak, she wrapped it around her like a blanket. Her only surviving family, Mathias paced with Jagua sitting nearby. Moonlight highlighted the veins of his forearms as he slid his carving knife down the staff repeatedly. Flakes of wood fell to the ground. A point emerged as he made a spear of his favorite walking stick.
She shuddered. Foreboding webbed her in. Clutching her knees to her chest, she waited.
***
Mathias glanced at his sister, sprawled in the hammock. Even in her sleep, she twitched and muttered. Worry lines creased her young forehead. She balled herself tighter and tighter.
He tightened his grip on his sword. They are coming. This time, they will not find us unprepared. As though sensing his thoughts, Jagua glanced up from sharpening his spear. A nod of solidarity passed between them. The last time the Burners had found a way past the Archers, the three of them had been left orphans.
This time, they were not children.
Yells broke out across the campsite. As though excited by the noise, the wind blew fiercely. Smoke filled his lungs. He glanced at his sister, but she’d already sprung to her feet.
Then the wave of heat hit. It scorched his skin as though he’d been thrown into a pan. The air thinned. His weapons suddenly seemed ridiculous and useless. How could you fight breathless? Coughing, he scanned the camp. Jagua grabbed his arm and dragged him onwards.
“Ma… Mapoza….”
“Here.” His sister’s short response, riddled with fear, woke him up. Jerking his arm from Jagua, he scanned their surroundings. “There.” He pointed to a crowd of duendias pushing to escape. Squinting, he watched them fall over one another screaming and running. “Why are they stopping?”
The flames blazed up before him. Where trees had just stood, a wall of pure devouring power trapped them in. The Burners never intended to fight. They ringed them in with fire.
For a moment, it occurred to him they should have seen this coming. That their enemy would call themselves Burners for the same reason their Archers called themselves Archers. But it didn’t matter now. They hadn’t thought. They hadn’t realized. And now they were trapped.
A screech sounded above him. Shadows passed above.
Mapoza pulled at his sleeve. “They’ve come?
His eyes stung. The smoke blinded him. He coughed, grabbing her hand. He wouldn’t lose her. Something told him Jagua stood close by, but he didn’t know where.
“Come. Follow me.” A strong arm gripped his collar.
His heart jumped. Who was this stranger. He couldn’t breathe. The strong arm pulled him. He swung with his free arm.
“Stop it, Theo.”
Theo? Only one person called him that. Ulfo! Relief rolled over him. They were saved. Ashamed, he grit his teeth and pulled his sister along. Some warrior I make.
Suddenly, the hand released and iron-like clamps wrapped around his shoulders. Before he knew it, the ground disappeared beneath his feet. “What’s happening?” He yelled. Air whooshed above him as something flapped. “Mapoza! Mapoza! Jagua!” A fit of coughing overtook him. Writhing like a trapped snake, he floated above it all.
***
The Eagle dropped Mathias without ceremony. The impact shocked his senses. He fell to his side. Lungs torn up from the smoke, they seized within him. He moaned and pushed himself to his feet.
The giant birds swirled overhead like a cloud of shadows, morphing and curving in the light. Stars and treetops crowned his view. He didn’t know how long they’d flown – he’d been doing his best to figure out a way to turn around— but no smoke or sign of flames met his senses.
Small arms encircled him. “You’re alive.”
He kissed the top of his sister’s curls. “Where’s Jagua?”
“Here!” Jagua emerged from the night by stepping into a patch of moonlight. His locks had fallen into disarray, frizzes and curls poking at strange angles. His smooth face cut hard lines as he stared.
“We made all three made it. I knew that Eagle meant something.” Mapoza ran to Jagua and threw her arms around his neck. Even in the darkness, Mathias sensed his surprise.
“Listen, children.” A deep voice interrupted the scene and Ulfo walked forward. For the first time, Mathias saw the growing crowd of duendi children. “Listen!” Ulfo bellowed as cries, whimpers, and whisperings echoed all around. At his command, even the howls from the deep woods seemed to vanish. “You were chosen because you were small enough to carry, but this is only the beginning.”
“Beginning?” Someone cried. “We just lost everything!” A tall, wiry figure stomped forward in the moonlight. His round cheeks glistened.
He cried. Mathias didn’t know why that surprised him. Or why he hadn’t cried himself. The whole scene was veiled in surrealness for him. As though a very real feeling nightmare. He couldn’t cry over what wasn’t real.
“Quiet.” Ulfo’s usually warm, cheerful tone now could have crushed rocks. He scanned the crowd. “You are what is left of your people. Of the duendi and duendias of the Northern Mountains. You will be hunted by the Burners for your skill, your long-life, and your gifts. It is a great honor to be a chosen people, as Maschiach himself has chosen us. And many good things come with it. But with great honor comes great jealousy. You will be hunted all your life, and now you know just how deadly those hunters can be. You must learn to fight.”
Mapoza yelled in agreement. A few others did the same. Mathias clenched his fist. He would never be that boy. He’d never have to be saved again. Next time he would know. Next time, he would put two and two together before it was too late. He wouldn’t be caught off-guard. Not again.
Jagua stepped forward to meet Ulfo. “What do we have to do?”
“Duendi are hunters, are they not.” A sly grin spread across Ulfo’s face. “So we hunt.”
A. Faith.
