Bastial Energy (15 page)

Vithos frowned, and a silence followed that was so thick Zoke thought he could hear his shout echoing over the land. Vithos turned back to the water and lowered his head.

“I didn’t realize that.” He spoke with the softness that only comes from deep regret. “Most of you Krepps regard family with such indifference. I didn’t consider you might be unlike them, but I should have.” Vithos sighed. “You’ve always been different, and without that I would’ve never been able to trust you. Any other Krepp would kill me while I sleep and bring my head to Doe after hearing what I just told you.”

“How do you know I won’t?” Zoke asked, anger still pulsing with each beat of his thundering heart.

Vithos turned. A bored look came across his face. “Because I know you, even if you don’t know me. To prove it to you, I’ll even ask and tell you if you lie. Do you have any intention of killing me?”

Although Zoke was still upset, he knew the thought of severing the Elf’s head was no task he would ever choose. “No, but I’d like to hit you with this stick right now.” He gestured with it. “I’m sure you’re aware I’m very angry.”

Vithos smiled. “Yes.” He approached Zoke with an arm extended. “Go ahead. Pass judgment on me.”

Zoke lifted the stick but didn’t strike.
Is this some sort of trick?

“I know you want to,” Vithos encouraged. “One hard whack. I deserve it.”

Still, Zoke refused to move. There was much to consider first.
Does hitting him demonstrate I think he’s right about all this?
Because I don’t. There’s no way they moved the entire camp, just because of Vithos. There’s no way. But if I don’t believe him, why am I so mad?
Maybe some
part of me does believe him…thinks it could be true.
“How sure are you about all this?” he decided to ask.

“I’m certain. Have you ever known me to be wrong about Doe or Haemon?”

No.
But he couldn’t say it aloud. It would be too close to admitting defeat. “There must be some way out of this, some way to see Zeti again.”

Vithos was nodding. His arm remained steady, waiting to be struck. “I’m sure we can find a way.”

Zoke tried to remain angry but couldn’t. There was still too much he didn’t know. There was still a chance the camp hadn’t been moved, and he was nowhere near accepting that he would never see Zeti again. It would take far more than one conversation to extinguish that hope. Vithos needed some punishment, though. The Elf had deceived him, dragged him into something that could change the course of his entire life.

“For your actions, you’ll receive a physical punishment.” He imitated Vithos as best he could, raising his pitch and lowering his head to stare from the tops of his eyes. He raised the stick over his head with a mix of anger, hesitation, and excitement. It was a privilege to be the first Krepp to pass judgment on Vithos—a fantasy shared by all Krepps. He’d heard many stories about what others would do to Vithos if the roles were reversed.

Not as good as hitting Doe or Haemon, but still good
.

“Don’t break it,” Vithos said.

Zoke inspected the stick. While somewhat thin, the wood was sturdy. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“No, don’t break my arm. I’m going to need it.”

“Endure,” he said, promising nothing.

“Endure.”

With half his strength, he brought down the stick onto the smooth, pale skin of the Elf. The force of the blow caused Vithos to wince through his teeth.

“Judgment has passed.” Zoke spoke with ample satisfaction, watching as Vithos hopped in circles and nursed his arm.

“I feel a little better,” Zoke said truthfully. “But don’t think you’ve swayed me completely.” He pointed his stick again. “I’m still considering returning to camp.”

“We can return together so that you can see everyone has left, but first come with me to Merejic. I need your help, and we’ve already gone this far.”

My help with what?
Though curious, Zoke couldn’t decide if he wished to follow the Elf farther north or turn back. Vithos must have seen it in his yellow eyes, for he spoke up again. “I realize it’s difficult to trust me, but going back now would prove to be useless unless you’re planning to live in the wild alone for the rest of your life. Stay with me, and we’ll devise a plan for you and Zeti to be together again. I believe it’ll coincide with my current strategy for Doe and Haemon.”

“Which is what?”

“
Vantikar
,” the Elf uttered.

Zoke felt chills from the word and the hard glare that followed. The word itself meant revenge through killing whoever wronged you. Perhaps because of some psychic spell, Zoke grew too afraid to ask any more of the Elf. That didn’t stop him from wondering, though.
What did Doe and Haemon do to you?
Zoke found no scars on Vithos like on others who’d disobeyed the leaders of the tribe.

“I’ll continue with you for now.” Zoke didn’t believe any other choice was better. “But I might change my mind later.”
Especially if I find out there’s more you should’ve told me
.

Chapter 18: Death and Secrets

ZOKE

By midday, the western hills had diminished, allowing the coastline to come into view as they walked northwest. Now three days north from the camp, the breeze felt fresher against Zoke’s face, the grass greener, even the water in the ocean looked clearer. Zoke had never been this far north. They were still in Slepja, home of their encampment—unless it really had been moved like Vithos said—but it was beginning to feel like a different territory. Zoke soon wondered if this was what all of Slepja used to be like before the tens of thousands of Krepps came to live on its southern end.

Each hour presented a new hill to climb and then descend. The more hills they traversed, the more bushes, shrubs, and even trees could be seen. Eventually, Zoke saw the first animal since they’d left: a bluebird perched on a tree. It took off north just as Zoke glanced at it. Perhaps the sight of Zoke had startled it.

When the last light of the sun was gone, they found a thick stretch of grass to spend the night. They hadn’t spoken at all since Vithos revealed that he wanted to kill Doe and Haemon. Zoke was still too nervous to ask about the reasoning. Each time he considered bringing it up, tightness welled up in his throat, choking down his words.

Just after their twists and turns to find comfort on the ground ceased, and silence started to blanket Zoke in a calming embrace, Vithos disrupted it with his voice. “I’ve always wished I had a sibling, someone who has some idea what it’s like to be me.”

Zoke’s eyes popped open from the surprising statement.
Why is he telling me this? What does he want me to say?

There was the distinct sound of Vithos sitting up. “Is it like that with Zeti? Does she know what it’s like to be you?” There was open curiosity in Vithos’ voice, reminding Zoke of Grayol. Never did Zoke think he would find any connection between the two of them. Grayol was still at the young age of being incautiously curious about everything, while Vithos was wise, finding truth in situations when no one else could. But his tone in this question was just like that of Grayol’s: childlike.

“I suppose she does. Not entirely, though, she’s no
gurradu
, nor is she too short. But if anyone knows what my life is like besides me, it’s her.”

Vithos slowly reclined again. “Yes, I think I’d like that.”

Zoke’s cavernous mouth stretched open for a yawn. For just that brief moment, he wondered what it was like to be Vithos, to be raised by Doe and Haemon, to serve them, to be the only Elf, and now to want to kill them. It was too much to consider for longer than a yawn, at least right then. Instead, he let his heavy eyes close once again.

The next day, there were even more hills. Zoke was beginning to hate them even worse than the barren flatlands. By sundown, they’d come far enough to the coast that the sound of the waves crashing could be heard if Zoke and Vithos were completely silent. However, Zoke’s focus was drawn instead to Vithos as the Elf finally spoke, and with heavy disdain, about the Slugari who’d raised him.

“Doe and Haemon must know of my interest to visit Merejic, so we can’t stay there long, just long enough for me to search for clues about what really happened before I was taken by them. When I was a child, Doe and Haemon told me that they and the Krepps found me abandoned in the woods, left for dead by my family.” Zoke had heard this story before from other Krepps, and it had ended there. Vithos continued, though.

“When I got older and my psyche was stronger, I discovered that specifics related to the story were being kept from me, like what happened to the other Elves? Asking Doe or Haemon would only lead to physical punishments. If I asked a Krepp who was old enough to know, the Krepp would tell the same story as any other and notify Doe or Haemon that I’d asked about it. Again, I would be punished.”

Vithos rubbed his arm as if reliving an old punishment. “My own concept of what really happened started forming in my adolescence and continued to take shape as I picked up more clues. I’m fairly certain now that my parents didn’t leave me in the woods to die. Even Krepps wouldn’t do that to their children.”

Zoke spat. “I’m not so sure that’s true about father to me,” he muttered.

If Vithos heard him, he ignored the comment. He kept his eyes forward, focusing on the hill approaching. “Though I don’t remember my parents, I somehow know they cared for me deeply. Perhaps I was old enough to know of their affection when we were separated. I
was
old enough to know my name, so it’s a possibility. Understanding the mentality of Doe and Haemon, it makes more sense that they attacked the Elves and took me, not that the Elves left me to die.”

For the first time, Zoke felt that Vithos might be looking for compassion. “If I were old enough to know, I’d tell you what happened,” he said, not knowing what else the Elf wanted to hear.

“Then you’d be dead,” Vithos replied, utterly deadpan.

It was true, he realized. He’d seen Krepps killed for less, which reminded him of something he’d wanted to ask since they’d left. “Do you know what Doe and Haemon do with the eppil plants? Why are we killed just for entering the garden that contains them?”

“They melt them between their claws like some sort of potion and drink it. It’s how they are so large and their magic is that powerful. Without the eppil plants, Doe and Haemon are nothing. When I was younger, they allowed me a taste after months of begging, but my body rejected it, causing me to throw up continuously until nothing remained in my stomach.”

Zoke wasn’t shocked by this, somewhat relieved even. He’d expected the plants to be extremely valuable to his leaders, hoped for it even, as his mother was killed because of them. If she’d died for absolutely nothing, it would have only frustrated him more. It was strange to feel relief when considering his mother’s death, Zoke realized, but it was what he felt nonetheless and was impossible to take back now that it had happened.

A new question formed in his mind. “What happens if a Krepp drinks the eppil plant potion?”

“We can’t know. Any Krepp to have even touched one has been incinerated by Doe publicly to show everyone what happens to those who try.”

Like mother to me,
Zoke almost said aloud. But he held back. There was no point in bringing her up.

He’d been too young when she’d died to mourn her now. Instead, curiosity about why she’d entered the eppil garden was what had stuck with him these many years. He refused to believe his father’s theory—that she’d wished to die. He’d hoped Vithos had information about the eppil plants that would give him insight about what she was doing there, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case.

By evening of the next day, the constant wave of the land had taken a major toll on Zoke’s calves, and the dull ache to his feet had become an annoyance he no longer could ignore. He and Vithos barely spoke, as there wasn’t much left to discuss, but Zoke needed to force his mind away from his pain, so he thought of something to say. “I haven’t seen any animals besides birds.”

“They’re around but hidden. Slepja had a vast assortment of creatures, but the tribe’s need for meat has left only animals that know how to hide. The rest were eaten or migrated.” Vithos breathed heavily as he spoke, which came as a relief to Zoke. It was comforting that the hills of northwestern Slepja were difficult not just for him to endure.

The sky had become crimson in the last hour. They ventured over one last hill, taller than the rest, and the thick forest of Merejic was suddenly in view. A line of trees stood side-by-side like sentinels as if to guard the entrance. Their pointed tops stood stoically, unwavering. He’d never seen trees clustered so closely. Each one was touching at least two others.

“It’s…” Zoke couldn’t describe how the forest made him feel. In Kreppen, there weren’t many words for beauty or grandeur. He almost said
majestic
in common tongue but knew Vithos didn’t speak the language.

“It’s something,” Vithos said, sounding more eager than anything else.

“Imposing and peaceful at the same time,” Zoke concluded.

“We won’t reach it by nightfall. Let’s find a place to sleep.”