Arcene: The Island (31 page)

Ah, she was listening. She wants to stay on guard. She's a good dog.
Arcene watched as Leel scanned the curved bowl of land outside the cave, then, seemingly satisfied, she lay down and rested her head on her paws. Amazingly, she didn't instantly fall asleep. Her open eyes sparkled in the reflected sun. Leel really must be concerned about those that would do them harm.

The peace returned and Arcene let it permeate her mind and body, almost as though she could gain strength from the solitude. Maybe that was exactly what was happening? The enriched air in the cave permeating her bones and giving her vibrancy, a natural occurrence of forces in The Noise seeping through into the physical world. Whatever it was, Arcene let it in. She needed this quiet, this damp place where she felt safe, like she could sit for a million years and do nothing but listen to the water.

Woof. Woof, woof, woof. Grrr. Woof.

Before she even knew what she was doing, Arcene was splashing through the water, sword out and held two handed to her right, blade pointing back and low, ready to deal with what Leel had seen. Pupils expanded, allowing her to see through the gloom to the entrance, but there was just Leel, stood tall with hackles raised, ears like daggers warning the intruder to stay away. Whatever it was, Leel was not happy about it. This was no casual warning to a passing animal, this was serious.

Arcene crept toward the entrance, allowing her pupils to contract naturally as the light increased.
Stupid. Shouldn't be in a cave. There's only one way out.
She placed her feet carefully, aware that her footsteps could give away her position even though there was no way Leel would let anyone inside without a fight.

Grrr. Grrr. Woof.

"Can you call off the dog?" came the voice from outside, confident yet clearly afraid of the growling sentry.

Arcene moved to the entrance and stood beside Leel. No point trying to hide, she'd been found.

The brightness of the afternoon came as a shock after the cool and dark of the interior, and it took a moment to remember it was daytime and warm. Arcene stared at the woman that had caused all of this, at Talia.

She looked like a perfect female. Slender, curvy in all the right places, unlike her. Pretty and tanned, the only thing out of place the swirls of raised tattoos curving across her face, just like all the other people on The Island. It was a strange design, intricate yet simple at the same time, but Arcene had seen weirder tattoos. Weirder everything.

She scanned the curved land but as far as she could see Talia was alone. That wasn't enough though, and Arcene let her senses expand, found no people — they would be hiding themselves through The Noise — but did find a fire over the other side of the ridge, maybe a half mile away. Probably their camp. They would be there if they weren't sneaking up on her ready to attack from all directions.

Arcene squared her shoulders, lowered the sword and held it loosely in one hand, blade pointing to the rocky ground. "What do you want? Come to put down your 'Prey,' is that it?" Arcene moved into a stance that would allow her the most number of options depending on how Talia attacked. If she attacked. Arcene's mind was clear from the rest in the cave and she took in the scene of Talia alone with a glance. Her short sword was out but she wasn't acting threatening. This was no fight pose, she held it as if she would defend herself if need be, but wasn't looking for a confrontation. Her body language said the same thing, but Arcene had seen enough to know that this could just as easily be a ploy, a feint to make her let her guard down rather than a genuine act of submission.

"Can we talk? Please?" Talia moved slowly, and put her short sword back in the scabbard at her side then held out her arms to her sides.

Grrr.

"Quiet, Leel, good girl." Arcene lifted an arm and stroked Leel gently, the hackles feeling strange, almost hard, as they still stood erect along the ridge of her spine. "Why would I want to talk to you? I should kill you right here, or let Leel do it. No, Leel!" Arcene managed to grab Leel's collar before she lunged at Talia, who jumped back and moved to pull out her sword.

"If you pull that out then she'll rip your face off. Leel, stop, it's okay. You be good." Leel turned and glanced at Arcene. She nodded and Leel relaxed a little. It had been close — Arcene would not have been able to control her if she'd left it a second later to command her to stop.

"Okay, look, the sword stays put. Will she attack?"

Arena shrugged. "Depends. What do you want?"

"Like I said, I want to talk. Please?"

Keeping hold of Leel, Arcene took another look around. "Suit yourself, but I'm not in the mood for games. Come on then." Arcene retreated into the calming atmosphere of the cave, releasing Leel.

"Um, the dog?"

"Her name's Leel," Arcene said over her shoulder. "She won't attack as long as you aren't here to kill us. She can tell." It wasn't strictly true, but Talia didn't need to know that.

Talia edged forward, and keeping a watchful eye on Leel, who followed her every move, she backed up to the rock face and sidled into the darkness.

Arcene was sure Leel smiled. She was enjoying herself!

We Need to Talk

Talia knew she was taking a massive risk seeking out Arcene and her dog, but the more she had talked with Cashae and Erato, the more she felt she had little choice. As the city was left behind, and they found themselves in open countryside, the true nature of the part of the world known as Great Britain, country of England, once known throughout the world even though it was a tiny island compared to most other first world countries of repute, almost overwhelmed them all.

Such beauty, such wonder, such space. None of them had any reference point. They had never known so much land, couldn't have ever imagined what it would be like. Yet here it was in all its glory. Stark then lush, harsh then welcoming, rugged and alien and utterly delightful. Vorce and Elder Janean were clearly unhappy about them experiencing the world at large. Another reason, Talia suspected, why The Hunt was conducted in such a specific place. If every Hunter got to see their rightful inheritance would they ever want to return home?

As they walked through open country, the friends found themselves able to talk. And the more they saw of the world, the more they spoke of what they had been missing. They said things they had never thought they would utter to another human being, opened themselves and told of their doubts, their fears and their astonishment of the world they found themselves in.

They had been duped, denied true life experience. The Hunt was a sham, fake, there to keep the population mollified. A reality show to keep them focused rather than give real Justice. They had been part of something that was wrong. Raised to believe it and knew no different.

The world was not how they had imagined, and they all told of their doubts about continuing to chase down Arcene and killing her. Who were they to Judge an outsider when she had grown up in such a place? Her ways were different. How could they compare her to them?

The conversations began stilted and uncomfortable, but they saw the truth in each other's eyes. They were having second thoughts about the whole thing, about everything they thought they knew. They needed to do something, but what?

As they followed the scent of Arcene and Leel, a skill Janean had never shared but was clearly very advanced at, the friends spoke when they could, but none of them knew what to do. It seemed impossible to defy Vorce. His power over them was so strong, but they knew this was wrong, that they had been fooled. Just like all the other islanders.

They felt, they hated to admit it, like little children who believed what their parents told them and that the fish King was real. Vorce had his reasons, they knew that, and the history of The Hunt was long and they knew the tale — what they had been taught, anyway — and that he had not so much instigated it as allowed it to flourish because it was what the people wanted. But was that really true? He was manipulating them all. They had to act.

When they made camp, as Elder Janean said she needed to rest — it was too tiring expanding her scent sense for too long — Talia decided she would try to do something about it. They had all agreed that if they had the chance they would try to get to Arcene and maybe save her, but they also agreed that if it came down to them or her it would have to be her.

Their survival was important. They had to get home and tell of the world at large, and, after all, she had been exceptionally rude. Although death was rather extreme, they owed it to their people to spread the word. They had to stay together if they were to have any chance of that succeeding.

While they rested, Janean looking exhausted from her immersion in The Noise, Vorce left to scout ahead. Talia knew he was going in the wrong direction. She'd picked up on Arcene a while back, never interfering, letting the Elder lead the way, but often she knew of faster routes, knew which direction to go, but said nothing, needing time to think.

Now was her chance, and with a quick word to her friends she left, telling them to stay in touch through The Noise and to give her warning if Vorce returned. She could dash back, make an excuse, if she didn't get into trouble. They weren't happy, but knew this might be their only chance. Reluctantly, they let Talia try to put an end to the madness before they had no other choice but to continue The Hunt.

Now here she was, stood in a cave with the girl, or woman really. It was hard to pin Arcene down, she was a mass of contradictions and unlike anyone Talia had ever met in her long, yet what was now clearly sheltered life. Talia studied Arcene as she sat.

Arcene was settled on a flat rock on the opposite side of a shallow pool, legs dangling. The black socks with pink rabbits stitched up the sides gave a childlike first impression, yet somehow a warning too — an "I don't care, I like it," attitude. She was slim but there was muscle, and she had an air of the boy about her. Although, at the same time she was extremely pretty, and her hair was stunning. It was her frame, not well-rounded or overtly that of a woman, and her walk and whole demeanor was that of a swaggering boy who knew he couldn't be beaten. Inner confidence not relying on the opinion of others. A true sense of self.

The girl-woman sat with her back erect, arm raised where it gripped the sword hilt. The blade's tip rested on the rock below her as if she had just now pulled it out.

She looks regal, that's what it is. Like the rock is a throne and she is holding court. A child, and I am the lowly subject she is about to... Judge!

Talia wondered if she was doing it on purpose, reversing the roles. Sat up high on her stone throne, aware of the impression she was creating and the meaning behind it as she looked down to Talia, waiting for her to prostrate herself and offer respect to her Queen. The effect was confusing. Emotions fought with each other. She was a child. Talia was almost a century older than this girl, so why did she feel like the one who was the baby?

Because I know nothing, that's why. And I'm here, to... to do what? Say sorry? Say I didn't mean it? No, to save her. I'm here to save her.

It was more than that. Talia had the feeling, no, the knowledge, that more than her own fate was held in Arcene's thin hands. The fate of her people's future was at stake too. She didn't know how, but it was, she was sure of it.

Arcene gave off this kind of aura, an invincibility, like she had created and destroyed entire civilizations, changed the way societies acted and altered the course of their history with one stroke of her very sharp sword. Could that be right? How had she missed this inner strength that went beyond confidence and being a good fighter, which she was sure Arcene was?

Because she's lived, that's why. Seen things, done things. Been places.

"I know what you're thinking," said Arcene, startling Talia from her reverie.

"Eh? Do you?"

"Yes, you're thinking I'm just a child but you feel younger than me. That I'm silly but I'm strong. That I know more than you and that I have done things. Good things and bad things. Right?"

Talia kept her composure, held her back straight and her body language neutral. "Maybe. Something like that."

"I can tell you if you want? Do you want me to tell you?"

"Tell me what?" asked Talia cautiously.

"Everything. All the things I've done. The things I've seen. My story. All of it. Do you want that?"

Do I? Do I want to know the life of this child?
"Tell me."

"Haha, really? And then what happened?"

"Then I picked up the chicken and ran away, but as I didn't care about clothes and was so dirty and scruffy, and, well, a bit naughty, I tripped on these stupid trousers that were too big for me and this man, he picked me up by my hair and I thought I was done for. But I bit him and he dropped me and my trousers fell off and I got away."

"Haha. Well, that will teach him not to refuse to pay young girls after they've helped him do the chores."