Chapter 22: Zarku

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Neither of us spoke as we trudged through sparse coniferous trees toward signs of civilization. My blood still strummed with fury at Niako's brazen words, but I was equally unsettled by my own reaction — by how close I had come to hurting him. I had the suspicion he was wagering his own life as a playing chip in some twisted game, and I feared the game was not yet over.

Kill me, Toom.

I sneaked a glance at the red splotch on the front of his tunic, but when his head turned toward me, I averted my gaze.

Soon, a ten-foot wall of rocks rose before us, pasted together by crusty mud. The wall wove up and down small slopes and around trees, interrupted only by a wooden gate in the middle. On the sides of the gate, two archers perched on the wall, heads propped on their fists and bows dangling from their fingertips.

"Well, this is new," said Niako.

"You've been here before?"

"I told you they want me dead."

"I assumed that was because Rakim killed and Claimed so many of Zarku's people."

"I mean, that too. But I may have also personally offended the tribal chief."

I jogged forward and stepped in front of him, cutting him off. "You offended the chief? And you didn't think this was worth mentioning?"

"I'll tell you if we encounter someone I haven't offended."

Before I had a chance to ask what he had done, a voice called from over my shoulder.

"You there! Name yourselves."

When I turned around, the archers both aimed their bows at me.

Just two days before, Niako's body had shielded mine in front of the archers in Rakim's fighting pit. Now I shifted to block Niako.

"I am Toom of Fooja. We are traveling to the Tribe of Trebalda, but a group of ruffians stole our horses and provisions. I would like to speak to your chief."

The archer on the left lowered her bow and dropped off of the wall, landing in a graceful crouch. She wore a deer hide skirt and vest with a copper three-legged lion broach pinned over her heart. When she straightened, the sun washed out her white-blonde hair and pale face. 

She strode toward us, smiling. "Prince Toom! Welcome to Zarku. My name is Zaria, and the other archer you see is my husband, Zeb." Then she stopped abruptly, smile dropping. Her blue eyes widened, her button nose scrunched, and her fingers gripped the bow. "Who is that behind you? Is that... that can't be...?"

The other archer, Zeb, slid off the wall and tromped over to Zaria's side. Auburn curls spilled over his ears and down his neck like a mane. He stood perhaps three or four inches shorter than Niako and five or six shorter than me, but he towered over Zaria's petite form. Both archers raised their bows slightly as they craned their heads to look behind me.

Niako started to step past me, but I shot out an arm to block him.

"He is who you think he is," I said, "But he's... he's with me now."

Zeb shifted his feet and licked his lips. "Prince Toom, we had heard he Claimed you." His gaze dropped to the gold collar around my neck. "And his family has done monstrous things to the Zarku tribe." He glanced at Zaria.

Zaria's gaze drifted over my shoulder and hung there as though in a trance, body motionless except for the twitch of one eye. I suddenly thought she looked familiar, but I could not think why.

"Anyway," said Zeb, "With how Chief Zork feels about Niako and his family, I imagine he would much rather we mount Niako's head on a stake than give him free entrance."

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