The Proving of Champions, Chapter 7
In which Fleta faces the tarasque in a storm, and Alexei burns through a few souls trying to catch up to her.
Alexei stood in the rain, mouth open, four hands cupped to collect rain. Bernia watched from a shelter of roots with broad leaves thrown over them. While she had expected the brute to tire of the rain after a few minutes and retreat to the shelter, he stood or sat or spun in the rain for over half an hour. Eventually, her eyelids could no longer resist the pull of gravity, and she plummeted into a deep sleep.
Sleep was still heavy in her eyes and thoughts when she heard a voice of thunder rebounding through the jungle—or was it two voices? It was much louder than she remembered from an emergency drill years ago. The sound also had a peculiar oscillated quality she hadn't remembered from the exercise. The drill was for soldiers only, held in secrecy a far distance from the town. It was Hereward's idea—in case anything unwanted came through the gate. At the time, it seemed absurd. The primary danger of the Jungle was giant beasts, but the opening of the arch from the jungle barely fit a large man.
The echoing boom of Terrell's voice and the rising tide of startled and angry cries, whoops, and roars startled Bernia to her feet. She wobbled a bit. As she reached out to steady herself on a root, he sliced her palm on a thorn and cursed. Alexei stood alert and waiting.
"Is this the call of your Skald?" Alexei asked.
"Yes," Bernia croaked.
"Do we answer it?"
Bernia paused, forcing her thoughts into a sequence. "The High Skald asked Fleta to answer the call. She and Shaw will help him. If we abandon the gate, we may doom them all." Bernia slid back down, visiting and revisiting her logic.
Alexei continued to stand at attention. When his legs grew tired, he grew fresh ones and withdrew the old. He watched a river continue to rise in a channel of roots below them. For Bernia, time seemed to disappear in the near blackness, with the constant fall of rain and roar of waters. For Alexei, every drop of rain or surge of the waters was an alien sound. "I do not know anyone who has experienced rain," he murmured. "Only those who recall it." Bernia didn't try to puzzle out Alexei's words.
Then, the jungle shook, not with an earthquake but with a sound.
As the shaking subsided, Alexei said: "That could only be the tarasque. Fleta cannot defeat it."
"Why do you care?" Bernia asked.
"Once, I believed I fought to protect people," said Alexei. "I discovered that was a lie. I would like to believe it again."
Bernia hesitated. "Go. I've been on a few expeditions before, and I've never heard anything like that. I'll be fine. Nothing comes to the gate on a sunny day, so I doubt anything will be hunting here now."
Alexei grunted and tensed, and each of his eight new arms split into two, ending in a long, curved, saber-like claw. He gritted his teeth. Smaller spikes of bone erupted from his shoulders, backs, and arms. Then he ran and was gone.