The Dragon and the Witch (2 page)

Chapter Two

Piku and I ventured out a ways in order to get some fresh berries to make a homemade pie for dessert in the evening. Tonight, I would train with Tolbalth, and after a strenuous workout, I always wanted something sweet—something to replenish the sugars in my body.

I narrowed my eyes at the bag sitting on the ground between us. “I keep throwing more berries into the satchel and yet, it’s not filling up. Do you know why this is?” I lifted a brow, braced one hand on my hip and playfully glared at him.

“Nope,” he said with his mouth full. “I’ve no idea.” A berry rolled out of his mouth and hit the ground, getting lost between dried leaves and debris.

I inwardly laughed. “Well, then we need to pick faster. The longer it takes us, the longer we’re out here picking.” I popped one in my mouth and smiled.

“I think my father is keeping something from me,” I told Piku.

“Dragons can be that way,” he said.

It wasn’t that Piku could necessarily speak English, it was that I could understand him. Where most would have heard his moans and growls, I understood what he was saying. It was a gift that I’d discovered as a five-year-old child when Piku and I had first met. And it had carried over to other animals as well. Not all…but most.

“What way?” I asked.

“You know, conniving and…well, secretive.”

I frowned. “He’s never been that way with me though. I mean, at least I don’t think he has.” I dropped a handful of berries into the satchel.

“So, why do you think he’s being that way with you now?” Piku had caught sight of a purple-and-blue butterfly and he used his paw to try and knock it down.

“I know Tolbalth like I know myself, Piku. I told him about a dream I had last night and he got angry. He actually forbid me to dream again.”

Piku covered his eyes with his large paw. “Dragons are smart but they can be dumb as well.”

“More like stubborn. I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, Zadie, aren’t you keeping a secret from him, too?”

I narrowed my eyes and popped an overly ripe, purple berry into my mouth. “Some things my father doesn’t need to know.”

Piku’s white fur glistened in the sun. He sat back on his hind legs and watched me pull a handful of berries from a branch. “You have powers, Zadie—the kind of powers that no human being should have. Don’t you think he should know that?”

“Even if he did know, what would he do? He has no clue who my mother is. He can’t tell me about my ancestors. Besides, I don’t even know what I can do yet. These so-called
powers
are undeveloped and unexplainable.” I shrugged. “So, what does it matter?”

“It matters, Zadie, because—”

A shot rang out in the deep forest.

My head whipped toward Piku at the same time his head turned to me. “Did you hear that?” I asked.

He nodded, stepping closer to the sound. “We should go and see.”

The deafening cries of a lion’s injured roar echoed through the thick stands of trees. Piku’s sleek body and ears perked as we both listened to the wounded sounds. I grabbed my sheathed blade—the gift Tolbalth had given to me earlier.

“Hunters,” I whispered.

“We should go to him, Zadie. He’s hurt,” Piku took three steps ahead of me, his silky white short hair moving in sync with the muscles beneath his coat. “He’s bleeding, Zadie. I can smell it.”

“Let’s go. But Piku, don’t act hastily. There are hunters out here this time of year and Father will burn down the forest if he thinks anything has happened to us at the hands of hunters.”

In bare feet, tattered cut-off trousers and a once-fine linen shirt that was threadbare, I nodded toward Piku to lead the way as I ran behind him, as fast and as strong as the tiger ran toward the wounded lion.

The sound of the wind whispering past my ears, the crunch of the leaves beneath our feet and the gliding through the air as I pushed off on a boulder gave me freedom—freedom of soaring like a bird with Piku by my side.

After navigating through the shrubbery toward his moans, we saw him. A massive lion was lying on his side with blood seeping from his wound as it stained his tan fur. Fierce anger permeated his face and through the pain and anger, he lifted his lips, revealing razor-sharp teeth as he growled, warning us not to get any closer.

Twenty feet from the massive animal, I knelt on one knee, moving to his level on the ground. I made eye contact with the beast and hummed a soft melody as I snapped my fingers to create a rhythmic beat.

Piku moved closer, but the lion growled again, baring his deadly fangs as his eyes glared at him. My stark-white tiger backed away, giving the wounded animal some distance.

I carefully removed my new blade and tossed it to the side. My other hand moved, fingers snapping lightly, as I continued to hum. The lion brought his eyes back to me; a groan escaped his mouth. I could tell that the pain was taking over and the loss of blood had made him weak. He’d never let us know how weak, because lions had a fierce amount of pride.

“It’s okay. I’m here to help. What’s your name?” Narrowing in on the animal, I used my softest voice to reassure him. “I’m not here to hurt you. I want to help.”

He shifted, growling at the pain near the wound. “Leave me here to die,” he rumbled.

“I won’t let you die.” I took three crouching steps toward him. “But I have to see your wound. I have to see how bad it is.”

The lion’s eyes met mine. His brown eyes begged me to leave him alone. I knew it was because he thought he was going to die and he wanted to do that with dignity. But the curious part of him—the part that wanted to know how a human being could communicate with his kind, tilted his head in awe.

“It’s okay. Let me look at it.”

He bellowed out a fierce growl. “Your kind did this to me! With your weapons and heartless souls.”

“Not me, Lion. I would never hurt any creature of the forest.”

The massive animal studied me, moving his eyes from Piku back to mine. With my hands out toward him and my heart racing, I realized I’d never seen him in this part of the forest. “What brings you out this far?”

He shook his head to clear his vision. “My mate is sick and my family needs food. The hunters have picked clean my side of the forest. But I walked into their trap.”

“May I come closer to look at your wound? Please.”

The Lion scanned the area and then stopped at Piku. “Do you trust the girl?” he asked my tiger.

“With my life,” Piku said. “She’s one of us. Her spirit is that of the forest. Besides, she can talk to you, can’t she?”

The lion nodded, blinking his eyes against the searing pain in his side. “My name is Rounili.” His deep voice was shaky. “You may look at my wound, if you think you can heal me.”

“Rounili, my name is Zadie and this is my best friend, Piku.” I moved slowly toward the massive animal. “I’m not sure I can heal you, Rounili, but I might be able to give you something to ease the pain.”

“I need to be healed. My family waits for food. Without me, they will die. We have a new cub. I’m not ready to leave him yet.”

The lion’s words panged my heart. I wanted to destroy those hunters with every ounce of my being. But first, I had to tend to him. Piku stayed at my side, moving between Rounili and me in a protective manner as I kneeled before the colossal lion and ran my hand over his fur. He flinched at the pain of the bullet hole and yet, I sensed an ease and comfort he felt since we were there with him—next to him.

“How bad is it?” he asked.

I glanced at Piku and shook my head. The bullet had entered near his hind leg and hit a major artery. Blood seemed to pour from his body.

I ran my hand over his fur and tried to comfort him. “Rounili, you’re going to be fine.”

“I don’t feel fine. I feel sleepy and numb,” the lion said, almost breathless. He laid his head in the dirt and slowly blinked. His breathing was shallow and each breath was a struggle to take in.

“Close your eyes and go to sleep then. We’ll be here with you the entire time.”

Rounili growled, snapping once into the air. “But my family. Who will feed them? My children will fall victim to hunters, if I am not there to protect them.”

My heart ached. Pressing my hands gently over his wound, I rested my head on the back of my hands and wished the lion a safe journey to the afterworld.

Something bright caught my eye.

Piku and I saw the same yellow glow around his wound, under my hands, and when I lifted my palms from his fur, the glow disappeared. I glanced at Piku and back at the lion. Placing my hands back on the lion’s side, the glow returned and within seconds, I was holding the bullet in my hand and the lion’s wound was gone. The puddle of blood on the forest floor stayed as quiet as a still pond, no longer being fed by the drips from his fur.

Rounili’s eyes riveted toward me. “What did you do? The pain has disappeared. I feel new again, as if I can run.”

“I don’t know.” Shock riddled my face. “I think you’re healed.”

The lion stood, his lean body massively huge. After inspecting the area where his wound once was and giving it a couple of licks, he turned to me and bowed. “You are one of us and I am forever in your debt, young Zadie. How can I ever repay you?”

“Leave these lands, as hunters are the deadliest of all.” I nodded to an area far to my right. “Past that Crens Peak, in the distance, you will find a plethora of food that you can gather for your family. Keep them safe.”

He bowed again. “If ever you need me, just call and I will come.” The lion turned to walk away. His long tasseled tail swept against the leaf-covered forest ground. The muscles beneath his skin were mighty and powerful. Piku and I watched him move slowly at first and then take off like a shooting star toward his destination.

Piku turned to me. “How did you do it, Zadie?”

I glanced down at the bullet in my hand, confused at this new power I seemed to possess—confused and curious.

Chapter Three

I waited until the mountain lion was out of view before I snapped my head toward the hunters. Another shot rang out and I glared in that direction, almost growling myself. Piku nuzzled my arm and purred. He always felt extra close to me when I helped those of his kind.

“Zadie, we should go,” Piku said, wrapping his large mouth around my wrist as he tried to pull me with him.

I didn’t budge. “No.”

“I know what you’re thinking and it’s a terrible idea.”

I turned my attention toward Piku. “No, what’s a terrible idea is those hunters thinking they can come out this far and shoot our friends.”

“Tolbalth will be angry if you go near those men. And when that monster of a dragon gets angry, something catches fire.” Piku stepped forward sniffing the blood where the lion had been lying.

“There are some things worth fighting for, Piku and our family and friends are the most important, don’t you think?” I hadn’t glanced his way. Instead, I leaned down and picked up my blade and shoved it back into its leather case along my left hip. I used my hand to tap the dragon handle contemplating our next move.

“Not if it means we have to face Tolbalth’s wrath.” Piku shook his head repeatedly. “I want nothing to do with that.” His large tongue swiped out of his mouth and he licked his paw before running it over one of his ears.

“My father’s all bark, no bite.”

Piku stepped in front of me. “Your
father
,” he emphasized, “is known as Tolbalth the Destroyer of Men, and for great reason. I’ve heard the stories. There was a time when your father would burn down entire villages.”

I gave him a sideways look just as another two shots rang out. “Yes, well, what my father doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, I hardly think he’d be okay with these hunters firing off their weapons this close to our home. Let’s look at it like I’m doing my father a favor.”

Without giving Piku another chance to say anything, I took off running toward the sound. My heart raced at the thought of coming face to face with men—real life hunters who my father had warned me about but never let me encounter them. These men were hunters and that alone intrigued me. It wasn’t often that we’d have people venture out this deep into the jungle. As much as human hunters intrigued me, I wanted to stop them from shooting those I cared about.

Just one mile from where I healed the lion, we spotted those hunters. The butt of their rifles up against a shoulder, eyes gazing through a scope and when I whipped my head to see what they were aiming at, I wanted to scream. They had their sights fixed on a deer we knew as Abby. She was a shy doe. I moved to take off after the hunters at the same time a shot rang out and Abby dropped to the forest floor. I had stopped and stared. My heart sank. A wrenching pain in the pit of my stomach was followed by a flood of anger.

Piku nudged me. “Don’t do it, Zadie. Please. We should run the other way. We’ll tell your father and let him deal with the hunters.”

“I’m not running,” I nearly yelled. “They just killed Abby, Piku. Why would we run? The only thing my father would do is catch the forest on fire and then we’d have homeless friends.”

“Better homeless than dead, Zadie.”

At some point, everything Piku was saying faded from earshot and the only thing I could hear was the angry beat of my own heart. I grabbed my dagger and narrowed my eyes at those burly hunters as they kicked the side of Abby’s still body. “Go get help, Piku. Just in case. Go get help.”

“Zadie, no! If your father—”

“If my father, nothing. Go now and get help!”

Reluctantly, Piku shook his head and turned to take off in another direction. The silence that followed gave me time to think. I wouldn’t have to hear my white tiger’s protest at every turn and I could fix these hunters so they would never hurt anything again. Of course, I’d never kill them. That wasn’t my style. But I could scare them out of the forest and hope they’d never return.

Squatting down, I assessed their movements the way my father had trained me. As one leaned down and laughed, acting like he was kissing Abby, my body jolted forward and anger catapulted me into an out-of-control, aggressive warrior with no common sense whatsoever.

While I sprinted toward those men, my subconscious kept yelling at me to stop and adhere to my years of training.

Just stop, Zadie
.
You’re going to get yourself killed if you don’t stop!

And with every deafening word my subconscious said, my legs wanted no part of stopping. I kept running toward them with my blade in the air and a loud animalistic noise escaping from my parted lips. I wanted to stop those murderous men.

One man turned and mouthed, “What is that?”

The other man stood, his back to the doe, uncertain what was coming toward him. He took two steps back, fell over Abby and landed on his butt before he crawled back on his hands and feet the way a spider would.

As I catapulted off a rock, I flew through the air toward them. Without thinking, I launched my weapon, its pointed tip and perfectly crafted lines glided with the grace and beauty of a furious bird. And as I watched it soar toward the man on the ground, my heart thudded like a ceremonial native American drum.

For the first time in my life, I might have just taken someone else’s life. I landed ten feet in front of them in the middle of a clearing between massive trees. I watched my weapon slam into the hunter’s shoulder—his loud cry pierced the woods, sending birds from their spot among the branches.

A bittersweet emotion washed over me. His screams and utter pandemonium behavior gave me great joy, but when I thought about how close I’d come to killing him, even though I had wanted to, I knew that I’d made the wrong move. I had let anger rule my actions. My father would be disappointed in my judgment.

The other hunter, after pulling his eyes from his friend’s bleeding shoulder, lifted his rifle to my head.

I took a step back.

“Who the hell are you?” Before I could answer, he continued, “Go on, tell me. You can’t run around here throwing knives at people, little girl.”

I stood tall and proud. “My name is Zadie and you’ve crossed into
my
territory. I demand that you leave at once and never return or next time it won’t be his shoulder that you’ll be concerned about. You are poaching on my father’s land. Begone!”

The man holding the rifle burst out laughing and then lifted the weapon tighter against his shoulder. “I could shoot you right now and leave you here for dead and no one would be the wiser.”

“Then my father…” I wanted to finish that statement, but the forest floor shook and the tops of the trees swayed from a fierce hot wind. I knew what that meant. Tolbalth, the Destroyer of Men, was already here.