More arrows passed right by his skin, each one zinging close enough to scrape him without drawing blood. I’d seen this kind of attack before.
“Move slowly,” I warned. “Someone is warning us.”
Jicho rolled his eyes. “Uh, I think they’re trying to kill us.”
“Each of those arrows perfectly brushed you without striking. If they wanted to you injured, they would have done it by now. No, whoever it is, they want our attention.”
I raised my hands to shoulder height and palms forward. Little by little, I rose to stand and turned about to face the jungle. “We won’t attack you. Come out.”
A moment later, the jungle was filled with yellow eyes. Thousands of them. And they were staring straight at me and Jicho. The last time we saw those particular kind of glowing eyes, they were attached to tar warriors who tried to kill us.
Not an encouraging thought.
Rustlings sounded from the depths of the jungle. The yellow eyes grew brighter and larger. Whoever was out there, they were closing in. I held my breath and thought through my options. There weren’t many.
Straightening my spine, I prepared to meet whatever new menace approached.
Chapter Fifteen
Gripping the MAJE’s metal railing, I peered over the side of the vessel. The metal hull remained half-deep in mud. Damn. We were still run aground.
Jicho pulled on my sleeve. “Elea, the jungle.”
Shifting my focus, I scanned the shoreline. A few yards away from the ship loomed a wall of hanging moss and heavy vines. Moonlight glinted off the emerald leaves.
That’s when I saw it.
A pair of bright yellow eyes peered out from the darkened jungle. I’d seen that look before. The Rushwa. My heart pounded with such force, I could feel my pulse in my skull.
I just fought seven Rushwa. Surely, I can defeat one more.
Dozens more pairs of eyes then blinked into view. I quickly tallied up how many Rushwa I might be facing.
Ten…Twenty…A little over thirty.
A pang of worry tightened my throat. Seven Rushwa were hard enough. But more than thirty?
Little by little, a gangly figure stepped out from behind the vines. Based on the build, it was definitely a man, only one unlike any other I’d seen before. He wore a bone helmet with thick horns that jutted out and up on either side, reminding me of a water buffalo. The helm covered his face down to the nose, leaving only enough upper space for his luminous yellow eyes to peer out. The rest of the stranger’s slim body was covered in thin gray fur. A round silver amulet hung from a cord about his neck.
Not the Rushwa, then. My shoulders slumped with relief. Whoever this was, perhaps he knew how to find Nan and the Sword.
I waved from the deck. “Greetings, I’m Elea.” I wrapped my arm around Jicho’s shoulders. “This is Jicho. Can you help us? We need someone to push our boat back into the river.”
The man waved me closer. Leaning his head back, he let out a series of guttural growls accented by chirps. The sound was melodic and purposeful.
This was his language, only I couldn’t interpret a word.
“Sorry, I don’t understand.”
The man let out more speech-like sounds. After that, he moved his arm in a circular motion toward his chest. The intent was clear: come here.
I knelt down to look Jicho in the eye. “I’m going to talk to him. Can you stay abroad the ship?”
Jicho spoke in a child’s whisper, which was really no whisper at all. “Amelia and I planned some special things into the ship. I might be able to help.” He scrunched up his face. “The MAJE is designed do amazing things, but…” Jicho kicked at the deck.
“But what?”
“We never could get any of them to work. The ship kept exploding.”
My eyes widened. In this situation, the words ship and exploding were not good at all. “I have an idea. Why don’t you stay aboard the MAJE? If anyone comes after you, then you can hide again.”
Jicho rubbed his neck, his eyes lost in thought. “That’s probably a good idea.”
Probably? Try definitely.
“I’ll return shortly.” I gave Jicho’s shoulder an awkward pat. Casters usually hug each other, but I was still getting used to all that. Necromancers considered the need for physical contact to be a sign of weakness.
Slipping over the side of the vessel, I landed in the mud with a splash. My Necromancer robes had gotten soaked in my battle with the Rushwa. Now I was sopped in mud up to my kneecaps.
How I wished I could cast a cleaning spell.
Hiking up my skirts, I slogged through the mud and stepped toward the strange man. As I got closer, I got a better look at his appearance. It turned out, the man wasn’t actually wearing a helm; the horns were an extension of his brow bone and actually part of his face. Whoever he was, this man was definitely some kind of magickal hybrid of a human and a water buffalo.
I paused. Could this man be a Changed One? I scanned him carefully. No, that wasn’t a fit. Changed Ones were typical humans with an animal body limb, such as a snake for an arm or the legs of a cheetah. This man was something else: a true combination of human and animal. Although, I’d seen that by transform into a lion hybrid, but he’d been wild with fury. This man was calm.
I shrugged. Ah, well. The realms were filled with all sorts of marvels we had yet to discover. I’d never seen anything like this man before, but that didn’t mean his kind hadn’t been living in the jungle for ages.
Glancing over my shoulder, I met Jicho’s gaze. The question was in my eyes but unspoken, Do you know who these people are?
Jicho shook his head. The answer was clear. No.
The man let out another growl that was accented by deep trills. He waved his arm toward me again.
“I’m coming.” I lumbered my way up the shoreline until I stood only an arm’s length away. Now, I could see intricate patterns of runes carved into the bones that wound out from his forehead. These were in Necromancer writing, so I could read them easily.
Mrefu, Keeper of Kila Kitu.
“Your name is Mrefu?” I asked.
The man nodded. Good thing certain movements were universal.
I tapped my chest. “Elea.”
Mrefu launched into a long speech, accented by more growls and yips. His yellow eyes stayed locked with mine. The urgency in his gaze was unmistakable. Whatever he was telling me, it was important that I understand.
“I’m sorry,” I shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”
Mrefu hunched over, dipping his arm into the muck. When he stood up again, he started talking once more, only this time he was pointing to his darkened arm.
I frowned. “Is there something wrong with the mud?”
Mrefu huffed in frustration. After that, he began picking up great handfuls of mud and slopping them onto the downward curl of his horns. At last, I made the connection.
“You’re talking about the Rushwa.”
Mrefu nodded. His voice deepened as he spoke in snarling tones. He then mimed biting at his arm. Now, I knew exactly what he was talking about.
“That’s right. The Rushwa attacked me. They tried to consume me alive, but I defeated them.”