Nirvana Effect

70



Edward jerked his head up. He saw Mahanta, mid war cry, coming down with the knife. He saw a dark blur that yanked Mahanta’s body to the side like a rag doll.

Edward tried to scramble away. The poison didn’t let him. It was sapping his whole body of life. Edward only managed to drag a few feet to the side. He turned to where the blur had gone.

Nockwe! The knife which had spelled Edward’s death was nowhere to be seen. Mahanta had rolled with Nockwe’s tackle, and the chieftain let the god get his bearings before the challenge began in earnest.

Nockwe had intervened.

All around Edward, the crowd was in uproar. Edward forced his thoughts inward. He had to focus. He had to stop the poison.

I’ve got to help Nockwe. He isn’t trancing. He isn’t even in the lightness. Manassa will murder him.

“Nockwe!” Edward yelled weakly. He could not get any force behind his voice. The poison must have moved further than he thought.

Nockwe turned. Edward grabbed the pill from his pants and threw it at Nockwe’s head.

“Under the tongue!” Edward yelled as it flew toward his face. Manassa lunged toward Nockwe, but the chieftain caught it in his mouth with his hand before Manassa could reach him.

Manassa clipped Nockwe, both rolling to the ground. They bounced to their feet, circling, their fists in the air before them.

Manassa spoke once more in traditional Onge. “Do you test the lord, your god?”

Nockwe answered in a rage, “We shall see if you’re still a god without a beating heart. We shall see if they’ll worship you after you’re dead.”

“Enough!” shouted Manassa. He attacked Nockwe in rage. Edward could tell that the trance had taken hold in Nockwe, but the chieftain was making the same mistake that Edward had at first. Nockwe was sticking to Onge fighting-style, rather than adapting his style for the moment. Manassa was much more fluid, much more agile, and was getting in blows. Nockwe was on the defensive.

Manassa did not let up, refusing to give the initiative. His fists were easy to keep up with to Edward, who was also trancing, but anyone else would have said he’d sprouted eight arms - and Nockwe, too, with his blocking.

Manassa moved in close, his fists pounding into Nockwe’s chest. Nockwe fell backwards, and Manassa tried to kick him. Nockwe managed to grab his foot and twist it. Manassa went down and rolled out. They both bounced to their feet again.

One of Manassa’s priests stepped into the ring slightly, as though to move in front of Manassa. Manassa waved him off, his eyes still locked on Nockwe. Nockwe charged leading with his fists, but just before he closed the distance Manassa let out a vicious jab with his foot. Edward heard a rib crack. The blow propelled Nockwe backwards. Manassa followed it up with another flying kick straight at Nockwe’s head. The chieftain only managed to avoid the foot partially, the brunt of the force sending him down to the ground once more.

Had Nockwe not been trancing, that would have been the end of that duel, but instead his reaction was merely a savage yell. It reminded Edward of the medicine man’s drone during the ritual. There was torture in his voice.

Nockwe got up. His neck muscles tensed, his whole body flexed. Sweat and blood shook off his dark skin. Nockwe charged again.

Manassa feinted to the right, but Nockwe read him, sending a vicious jab to the left the caught Manassa off guard. Nockwe connected ten times in the space of seconds, sending Mahanta reeling back. The bystanders had to scatter as the fight was propelled into the crowd.

Manassa buckled under the blows. Nockwe was on top of him, whaling at him.

“NOCKWE!” It was that same priest yelling. He was standing where Callista had been. Callista was gone. The two bodies of her guards lay in a pool of blood on the ground. The priest held Bri’ley’na, Nockwe’s wife, with a knife to her neck. Bri’s knife lay bloodied on the ground beside the fallen guards. Bri shrieked, wriggling to get away.

Nockwe turned his head to look. Manassa scrambled back to the edge of the crowd.

“Bri!”

“Your wife murdered two of the warriors!”

“Release her!” yelled Nockwe. “I am your chieftain! Do as I say!” he shouted. He had panic in his voice. The priest did not budge. “Do you dare to defy me? Do you dare to interrupt the challenge?”

“Don’t move, Nockwe!” the priest shouted.

Manassa gathered his breath. “Kill them!” he shouted. “They are traitors of our people, and no longer Onge. They are white lovers. Kill them!!! Then onto the boats before they stop us!” The crowd surged inward. Manassa disappeared.

Nockwe ran toward his wife.

Edward couldn’t see the chieftain anymore. The crowd engulfed him.

Edward closed his eyes. He had to stop the poison. He had to get rid of it before the trance stopped. He felt the after-pain starting to set in, and with it a gut-wrenching sort of suffocation. The nirvana effect was ending.

He did not fear the trampling feet of the tribe. The poison might kill him first.