he’d have to make a decision within seconds.
IX.
Asham was close. Lila knew this as surely as she knew the man would suffer for taking her child. It was almost as if she could sense his presence in the forest, drawing her to him like iron filings to a magnet. She called out his name again and again but whether or not he replied was of no consequence. All that mattered was that he knew she was out there, that he wasn’t alone and she was coming for him.
She should’ve killed that son of a goat when she had the chance. If she would’ve run him through when she first spotted him, none of this would have happened. Her child would be safe and happy, not being spirited away by a man whose heart was as small, cold, and unfeeling as a nugget of ice. But she had to think of The Way, didn’t she? She had to let tradition dissuade her from what she knew in her soul to be right.
“Maybe The Way no longer applies.” She thought. “Maybe the time has come for action. To stop being hunted and pick up our spears. To fight!”
This time the voice the voice of her late husband, offered no arguments.
From somewhere nearby, Lila heard the sound of the river. She imagined herself out there in the darkness: the hunter now the prey, surrounded and scared and knowing that death was on its way. She’d search out something familiar, something that would give the illusion of hope. She’d know there was no way those who pursued her could be on the far bank. The waters were too high and the rapids too turbulent. So they would close in on her from a single direction, a known direction . . . .
The murderous swine was heading for the water. He had to be. After all, it was what she would have done had their roles been reversed; and, while it was true that he was the very embodiment of evil, he was far from stupid. Which made him all that more dangerous.
For that reason, if nothing else, she would kill him this time. She would rend the flesh from his bones and show him his own intestines before allowing him to die. Even that would be too good for him.
When Lila broke through the tree line, she ignored the torrents of water rushing by. Instead, her eyes scanned the bank, looking for the slightest sign of movement or perhaps a flash of white from the man’s suit. But as far as the eye could see, there was nothing but the silhouettes of rocks and mounds of debris that had washed ashore from past recent flooding..
He had to be here somewhere. Her instincts told her to look more closely, to take in every detail as if it were the last time she’d gaze upon the earth. Sweeping the landscape again, she allowed her Cougar Eyes to crawl over moss covered stones and rusted hunks of metal that had washed ashore; like an invisible serpent, her eyes slithered along the contours of the river bank until they came to rest on what she’d originally mistaken for a large piece of driftwood.
For a moment, Lila’s heart forgot to beat. The moisture in her mouth evaporated as quickly as a drop of water on a glowing coal and the night air suddenly felt colder. In some ways, she was planted firmly in the here and now: she was acutely aware of how restrictive her necklace felt, almost as if it were cinching around her throat like a noose; she also heard the waters of the river gurgling and rushing with such clarity that it almost seemed they surrounded her on all sides. But at the same time, it also felt as if her consciousness had fled into the back of her mind, as if she were trying to distance herself from this dark riverbank. Her body was a shell and her spirit nothing more than a speck of dust within it.
“Asham!”
Breaking through her paralysis, Lila ran over the jagged stones of the riverbank. Her usual grace had abandoned her, causing her to stumble and fall as her feet entangled themselves in another. Sharp rocks peeled back the skin on her knees but before blood had
IX.
Asham was close. Lila knew this as surely as she knew the man would suffer for taking her child. It was almost as if she could sense his presence in the forest, drawing her to him like iron filings to a magnet. She called out his name again and again but whether or not he replied was of no consequence. All that mattered was that he knew she was out there, that he wasn’t alone and she was coming for him.
She should’ve killed that son of a goat when she had the chance. If she would’ve run him through when she first spotted him, none of this would have happened. Her child would be safe and happy, not being spirited away by a man whose heart was as small, cold, and unfeeling as a nugget of ice. But she had to think of The Way, didn’t she? She had to let tradition dissuade her from what she knew in her soul to be right.
“Maybe The Way no longer applies.” She thought. “Maybe the time has come for action. To stop being hunted and pick up our spears. To fight!”
This time the voice the voice of her late husband, offered no arguments.
From somewhere nearby, Lila heard the sound of the river. She imagined herself out there in the darkness: the hunter now the prey, surrounded and scared and knowing that death was on its way. She’d search out something familiar, something that would give the illusion of hope. She’d know there was no way those who pursued her could be on the far bank. The waters were too high and the rapids too turbulent. So they would close in on her from a single direction, a known direction . . . .
The murderous swine was heading for the water. He had to be. After all, it was what she would have done had their roles been reversed; and, while it was true that he was the very embodiment of evil, he was far from stupid. Which made him all that more dangerous.
For that reason, if nothing else, she would kill him this time. She would rend the flesh from his bones and show him his own intestines before allowing him to die. Even that would be too good for him.
When Lila broke through the tree line, she ignored the torrents of water rushing by. Instead, her eyes scanned the bank, looking for the slightest sign of movement or perhaps a flash of white from the man’s suit. But as far as the eye could see, there was nothing but the silhouettes of rocks and mounds of debris that had washed ashore from past recent flooding..
He had to be here somewhere. Her instincts told her to look more closely, to take in every detail as if it were the last time she’d gaze upon the earth. Sweeping the landscape again, she allowed her Cougar Eyes to crawl over moss covered stones and rusted hunks of metal that had washed ashore; like an invisible serpent, her eyes slithered along the contours of the river bank until they came to rest on what she’d originally mistaken for a large piece of driftwood.
For a moment, Lila’s heart forgot to beat. The moisture in her mouth evaporated as quickly as a drop of water on a glowing coal and the night air suddenly felt colder. In some ways, she was planted firmly in the here and now: she was acutely aware of how restrictive her necklace felt, almost as if it were cinching around her throat like a noose; she also heard the waters of the river gurgling and rushing with such clarity that it almost seemed they surrounded her on all sides. But at the same time, it also felt as if her consciousness had fled into the back of her mind, as if she were trying to distance herself from this dark riverbank. Her body was a shell and her spirit nothing more than a speck of dust within it.
“Asham!”
Breaking through her paralysis, Lila ran over the jagged stones of the riverbank. Her usual grace had abandoned her, causing her to stumble and fall as her feet entangled themselves in another. Sharp rocks peeled back the skin on her knees but before blood had
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