Rook Winters - Weight of Ashes

“Where is it?” Court asked.

The girl pointed. “Dat way. By da hospidal.”

Court winked at her. “Thanks.”

He walked quickly but with caution. Sneaking up on a scared bear was a good way to get an extended visit to the “hospidal.” He heard a couple bangs on a pot then someone hollered, “Stop.”

Court quickened his pace and found a less than ideal scenario. Several villagers were out with pots and pans. The bear was slapping its paws on the ground and snorting at Brighton. Court could hear the clacking of the bear’s molars as it opened and closed its mouth. It was agitated and scared. Brighton was only eight but he knew protocol. This shouldn’t be happening.

Standing between two cabins in the middle of the bear’s escape route was Elle, a basket of apples locked in the death grip of her white-knuckled hands.

Court waved his hand at her, motioning for her to back up. She nodded in understanding.

He kept his voice soft and calm. “Brighton, back away. Slowly.”

The boy took a step back and the bear lunged forward. It would be a bluff meant to reinforce Brighton’s retreat. The boy yelped and triple stepped backward. Then an apple struck the bear in the side of the head. It grunted and its ears folded back as it turned. Another apple hit the bear’s neck and it started to charge. Court didn’t think this one would be a bluff and he sprinted after it, not considering what would happen when he tackled a black bear with only a pot and spoon in hand. A third apple hit the bear on the nose and it let out a high-pitched barking sound as its charge faltered.

“Get out of the way,” Court shouted at Elle.

She still had an apple in her hand ready to throw when she jumped to the side, almost slamming into the wall of a cabin, and Court screamed while smacking the spoon against his pot. With a clear path in front of it, the bear bolted.

Others joined in and they chased the bear with their din as it ran across the clearing beyond the village and crashed through a stand of birch saplings.

Court returned to Elle who was staring at the apples trampled by the bear.

“What in the nacking hell is wrong with you?” he bellowed.

“You told me to throw apples at it.”

“Are you insane? I told you to back away.”

“You went like this.” She waved her arm in a throwing motion.

“I was telling you to back up.”

“That’s clearly a signal for throwing.”

Court pointed to Brighton who was being led away by his mother, the front of his pants soaked through. “The bear was bluffing. That’s what they do. You start throwing things at it and it becomes unpredictable. Brighton could’ve been seriously hurt. Or worse.”

One of the parents, Andrus, jammed a finger into Court’s chest. “This is your fault. Marsh left you in charge of watching the girl. Have you taught her any of the protocols?”

Andrus poked Court again and Court grabbed the man’s finger. Court had fast reflexes and a low tolerance for accusations. He wasn’t going to take this from Andrus. The guy had a lot of bluster for someone who let the garlic crop die.

“Bear visits are rare. It wasn’t a high priority.” He squeezed the finger and Andrus squirmed.

“Let go of me.” Andrus pushed Court and he let go of the finger. “Mind your place, boy.”

Court clenched his jaw involuntarily. He heard the faint voice of Marsh in his mind, a memory from a lesson long ago.

Control yourself first so you can control your surroundings.

Easy for Marsh to say when everyone respected and deferred to him. Court didn’t realize he’d squeezed his hand into a fist until he felt Elle wrap her hands around it.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know and Court’s right, there have been other things to focus on, like pulling my own weight around here.”

“Do better next time.” Andrus spun in place and marched off toward the gardens.

Court looked down at Elle’s hands on his. She let go and he felt a little disappointed.

“Next time you do better with your hand signals,” she said and after an awkward moment of silence, they both laughed. Genuine laughter that melted the tension. It felt good. He hadn’t heard her laugh before. He liked it.

“Court.” He turned to see Colleen waving at him. “Can you go relieve Paulo from watch and tell him to come see me? You can take Elle with you. Wouldn’t hurt for her to learn about keeping watch.”

“Of course,” he said.

Getting to the watch platform required climbing stairs so steep they were almost a ladder. When they were near the top, Court called up, “Hey, Paulo, Colleen wants to see you. She asked me to relieve you.”

“About the bear, I suppose.”

Court chuckled. “Hard to imagine it’s about anything else. What happened?”

“I don’t know. It came barreling in like the forest was burning down, and it was really moving. I didn’t even have time to grab a noisemaker.”

Elle pulled herself up onto the platform after Court. “A noisemaker?”

Paulo flipped open a container and pointed at a miniature mag gun.

“Another Marsh invention,” Court said. “Fires a special arrow that makes a loud noise when it hits something.”

Paulo pointed at the ground. “If something wanders into the clearing and doesn’t leave when you yell at it, you fire one of them at the ground between the animal and the village. Scares the spit out of them most of the time and they take off back the way they came.”

“And scares the teeth off the little kids in the village,” Court added.

“Alright,” Paulo said, “I best be getting over to see Colleen.”

When Paulo was gone, Elle asked, “How often do bears come into the village?”

“Not very often. Young ones’ll wander into the clearing every year until they learn about the noisemakers. It’s pretty rare to get one right in the village. Once every year or two. Strange for this time of year. Usually, it’s in the spring when they’re hungry after waking up from hibernation.”

Elle stared off into the trees. “So something out there must have scared it.”

Kantarka-Ta uncurled its upper body to expose its feeding slit. It was as long as Kane’s forearm. A thick, opaque mucus hung in strands between a dozen mandibles as they pushed open the slit. Kantarka-Ta leaned forward onto its pile of chilled meat. Kane guessed it was gorilla based on the smell but he was no expert.

Kantarka-Ta wasn’t the only Qyntarak to develop a taste for primate but he had an extreme proclivity for it. When the new laws come into effect, it wouldn’t be out of the question for human meat to appear on its plate, and Kane suspected it wouldn’t be the first time for Kantarka-Ta.

When is it too much?

The question was haunting him more frequently these days. One of his informants had said they were selling out their species. The next day, he took his own life.

No, we’re just trying to survive like everyone else.

Kane had access that let him occasionally influence decisions that impacted humans. That was more than he’d be able to do if he was blacklisted and unable to work. And changes were going to come regardless. He might as well be comfortable while they did. That was more than most people could hope for.

Kantarka-Ta finished pushing meat through the slit with its mandibles then retracted them so the slit could close. Kantarka-Ta folded over its upper body, returning to the natural standing position of a Qyntarak.

Kane was careful to hold his position and keep his expression neutral. Kantarka-Ta was skilled at reading human body language, a rare talent among Qyntarak. It was unnecessary for it to invite Kane in during its feeding time. It wanted him to be intimidated. He refused to be.