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For Yeneneshe

Chapter 59

Yeneneshe was gone. Simply vanished. Ettoras could think of nothing else and found it incredibly frustrating that everyone else was so ready to just hide and not go looking for her. He wanted to explode.

After the attack, the group fled to the nearby village and took refuge inside one of the houses. The creatures continued to pursue them and were outside even now, banging on the doors and the windows, howling and snarling in a rage. Pili, Motsumi, and Florian set to work hastily barricading the house with bookshelves and couches. Kayya sat on the floor beside the hearth, hugging herself and looking small and sad. Shakir sat beside Kayya and held her paw, and she seemed to relax as he whispered a prayer for her. Palesa allowed Nkwe to tend her wounds, ignoring the occasional glare from Pili. Nkwe was silent and kept his lips tight, though Ettoras could tell from his shaking paws that he was beside himself with fear and anger. Zeinara paced restlessly, and she was the only one who seemed as anxious to do something as Ettoras.

Yeneneshe had been gone for an hour now, but it wasn't until they were all inside the house and panting and slumping that they realized she was gone. It didn't make sense. If the monsters had her, they wouldn't have continued the chase. But they were outside the house, howling as angrily as if they had been cheated. Ettoras knew the others were likely thinking Yeneneshe was dead, that the creatures had already had their way with her and had killed her. But Ettoras refused to believe it.

"Be still," Azrian gently scolded Ettoras. She was sitting beside him on one of the couches, trying to heal the slash he'd taken on his arm. She was too tired to use magic and eventually started wrapping his arm with a bandage from her pack. She and Nkwe were both the only ones who had bandages and took it as their unspoken duty to bandage everyone else up. Azrian looked tired and drained. Her long red mane was hanging around her face, limp with sweat and shaggy from want of brushing. There were lines under eyes, and she had taken a nasty scratch across the face from one of the beasts. Ettoras would have given anything to have been able to heal her the way she could heal him. He hated more than ever that he didn't have magic. He wanted to hug his mother and hold her and never let go. He'd thought she was dead, and he didn't realize until that moment how much the very thought of her death terrified him.

"We have to do something, Mother," Ettoras said. "We have to! Yeneneshe is in danger!"

Azrian shook her head sadly. "What could we do? We are surrounded, my son. Should we all risk our lives to find her when it could be too late?"

"Don't talk like that, Mother! We don't know! She could still be alive!" Ettoras cried. "You command the water! You could --"

"That's it!" said Zeinara suddenly, and everyone looked at her. She looked from face to face, her eyes bright with an idea, her paws in her pockets. "Water!" she said. "Ettoras and Yeneneshe are connected through the water. We could use it to see where she --"

"We may not _want_to see where she is," Nkwe said grimly. He tied off Palesa's bandage and stood. "I am in no hurry to see the ravished body of my sister, Zeinara."

Zeinara looked as if she wanted to protest, but seeing the unhappiness in Nkwe's face, she seemed to think better of it and dropped her eyes. Nkwe turned and disappeared down the hall.

Motsumi cleared his throat. "Perhaps I should finally explain what the creatures are," he said, easing wearily onto a chair. A bandage was going around his head, his eyes were tired, and for the first time, Ettoras thought Motsumi actually looked old. "Then you will understand the danger and why we can not venture out to find Yeneneshe," he looked apologetically at Ettoras, "as much as we may want to."

Ettoras listened in disbelief as Motsumi heavily explained that they were being followed by twisted dog creatures that had been cursed to rape and fondle with an insatiable hunger for all eternity. The creatures would stop at nothing to get what they wanted, and once satisfied, would shred their victims with their bare paws. Ettoras went very still and didn't know if he should laugh or cry or just sit there in shock. Surely, Motsumi couldn't be serious.

"You can't be serious!" Zeinara burst, voicing Ettoras' thoughts.

Motsumi looked at the fire grimly, and it was at once apparent that he was very serious.

"And you weren't going to tell us about this?" Florian demanded angrily. He folded his arms. "I think I'd like to bloody well know if I'm going to be raped and murdered."

"There was no point frightening you," Palesa said. "We thought we had it under control. Nkwe and I fought the creatures off easily enough the night before, as did Pili and Azrian when they took watch. The creatures likely wouldn't even bother us because we are so well armed with weapons and magic, but they are willing to take the risk for . . ." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "For a virgin."

"For Yeneneshe," Ettoras said darkly. "She told me they were coming for her, that we should fly, and I . . . I -I --" He stammered himself silent when his mother put a comforting paw on his arm.

"It isn't anyone's fault," Zeinara told Ettoras. "We all knew coming here was dangerous . . ." Her face contorted. "What am I saying? This is my bloody fault. I started all of this. We wouldn't even be here if not for me!" So saying, she slouched to the floor and sat against the wall.

Kayya peered at Zeinara over her knees, her brown eyes soft with sympathy. "That is not true," she said quietly.

Zeinara smiled gratefully at Kayya, but Ettoras got the feeling she still felt it was _very_true.

Palesa and Pili drew "short straws" for first watch, and there was tension in the room as everyone waited for them to bemoan the fact. Ettoras had long ago noticed their silent dislike for each other, but they did not protest and sat near the door together, listening as the beasts howled on the other side.

There were three bedrooms in the house, and everyone else went to bed after lots for watch had been cast. Pili cautioned Zeinara and Kayya not to share a bed and added loudly that she knew what the two of them had done. Zeinara and Kayya went down the hall looking awkward and embarrassed as Florian put his arm around Shakir and guffawed.

"So the two of you've been banging bushes, eh?" Florian teased.

"At least I'm getting some," Zeinara retorted, and Florian immediately stopped laughing when Shakir looked at him bitterly.

Ettoras had been noticing a rising tension between Florian and Shakir. Florian had displayed genuine affection for the younger dog, to the point that Shakir expected the two of them to have sex. But they hadn't after several days of traveling together and after several opportunities to do so. Shakir was growing increasingly bitter of the fact, and Florian seemed very uncomfortable under the pressure to perform. Ettoras had to wonder why the two of them wanted their first time to be out here, in the middle of all the danger and madness, but he glanced out the window as they were going down the hall, and seeing the paradise that stood in the moonlight outside, he realized it was actually the perfect place for romance. An ancient kingdom of water lilies and golden trees frozen in time . . . was there a lovelier place on Aonre? And he suddenly hated himself for not sleeping with Yeneneshe when there had been so many opportunities. If he'd taken her virginity, she would be with them still.

Nkwe had taken the master bedroom for himself, and Ettoras heard him inside, talking with Motsumi. As the others filed into their bedrooms, Ettoras paused outside Nkwe's door, ignoring Kayya when she gave him a reproachful glance for eavesdropping.

". . . not moving in on Palesa," Nkwe was saying. "You have nothing to worry about, Motsumi."

"No, you misunderstand," Motsumi answered. "If you and Palesa were to come together . . . it would not be such a terrible thing, my son."

Nkwe made an incredulous noise. "Didn't she just watch her lover die? And you would have me take his place? He is with her still!"

"Yes, I know," Motsumi said unhappily, "but if I should die in this place . . . I only want for Palesa to be happy. I do not want her to be alone, Nkwe. You must promise me you will care for her."

"I . . . can't promise that," Nkwe said regretfully. "How could I care for her? I can't even care for my sister."

Ettoras didn't think he could listen to anymore. He turned and entered the room he would be sharing with Florian and Shakir. It was a large enough room to be a second master bedroom, with one large bed angled from a slanted wall. A dresser stood beneath a mirror on the wall, and a washbasin stood on the dresser, beside a pitcher of water and a brush. The brush still had white hairs in it, as if it had been used by the room's occupant only the day before. The brush was just one more reminder that they were sleeping in someone's house. That someone had brushed their mane in the mirror and washed their face at the basin. And now that someone was dead and gone.

Florian and Shakir were already in bed and had occupied one side together. Florian was on his back with his arm behind his head. He'd given Shakir his coat, and Shakir was wrapped in it as he lay on Florian's chest and between his legs, smiling and content in his sleep. The covers were pulled up over them, and Ettoras could see the shape of their bodies under the sheets.

Florian absently stroked Shakir's jet-black mane. "Pick up any juicy gossip?"

Ettoras sat on the edge of the bed and shrugged, his wings shifting behind him. "Motsumi thinks he's going to die, and Nkwe is unhappy about Yen . . ." He let his voice trail off. He didn't want to talk about Yeneneshe.

Florian frowned sympathetically. "She's a strong girl, Ettoras," he said. "And she's got some _scary_magic. If anyone could survive out there --"

"I appreciate the thought, Florian," Ettoras cut across him wearily, "but you're full of it. She's . . ." He swallowed hard. "Gone."

Florian looked away unhappily and adjusted the pillow behind his head. "Goodnight, pretty prince."

Ettoras smiled sadly as he settled on his side, his back to Florian and Shakir. "Goodnight, pretty prince."

But Ettoras could not sleep. He lay there for half an hour, thinking of Yeneneshe. Florian and Shakir were sleeping soundly when he got up and went to the washbasin standing on the dresser. The basin was filled to the brim with water and appeared to be one of the magically self-replenishing sort that had been back in the tunnels.

Ettoras had never scryed on purpose before. Those times that he saw Yeneneshe in the water were accidents, subconscious reachings of his lonely mind. But just being near water always conjured her. It was worth a try, no matter what the others said.

Ettoras placed his paws either side of the basin and focused on the water. For several seconds, his own determined face stared back at him, black and handsome and framed by long, golden hair. His eyes were like his mother's: one blue and one golden. After meeting Zeinara with her pretty blue eyes, Ettoras had come to the realization that he had taken an eye color from each of his parents. His eyes peered back at him, silently and defiantly confirming that he was indeed half-Etienne and half-Azrian. And there was no escaping it.

Ettoras stared at the water for several more seconds and was about to admit defeat when the water stirred. A ripple scattered across the surface, the water wobbled, and then his face had dissolved, and he could see Yeneneshe. He gasped. She was locked in furious battle, not with one of the foul beasts outside, but with another sorceress. Ettoras could see the female's paws waving, conjuring lightning and light. Yeneneshe screamed as the blast hit her and she fell down. She didn't move. Her opponent slowly approached, and Ettoras could see the female's long, slender legs - brown as the earth. He took a hasty step back from the basin. "I'm coming, Yeneneshe!"

***

Yeneneshe lay with her cheek in the dirt as she listened to Hawkeye approaching through the grass. The female's magic was still stinging through her fur from the last blast, and she felt paralyzed with the pain of it. Hawkeye had sent her flying through the air with a blast of white fire that scorched her to the bone. The impact added insult to injury when Yeneneshe fell hard on her face in the grass. She and Hawkeye had been fighting for over an hour, their screams and cries loud against the silence of the empty field. The moon watched their struggle silently and indifferently, watched with dispassion as their shapely silhouettes conjured ice and flame.

Yeneneshe was a telekinetic sorceress and manipulated the world around Hawkeye to block her spells, but Hawkeye always found a way to break through and did not hold back. She hit Yeneneshe with everything she had and she hit her hard, insulting her the entire time that if only she'd chosen "the right side" she would be commanding the same power. But Yeneneshe had chosen to turn against Hawkeye, so she was weak and pathetic like "the rest of her family" and would die "like the rest of her family."

Blood was running hot from Yeneneshe's nose, and when the realization hit her that no one was coming to help her, she lay there, waiting for death. She knew that even if she weren't in pain, she wouldn't have been able to move for her fear. Hawkeye was alive, angry, and more powerful than ever, and Yeneneshe hated herself for falling for her ruse.

That Zeinara had been the first to realize Hawkeye was traveling with them humiliated Yeneneshe. What did Zeinara know about magic? Zeinara was a dog - no matter what anyone said - and shouldn't have been able to sense magic in others. But Yeneneshe had been trained in the ways of a sorceress. Yeneneshe should have realized that the Pili traveling with them was an imposture. Not only did she fail to notice anything was amiss, but she also allowed Hawkeye to trick her a second time when she posed as Nkwe. Even in a dazed and confused state, Yeneneshe should have known the "male" scooping her into his arms was not her brother. But she let Hawkeye take her. She was desperate for Nkwe's love and attention, desperate to know her brother's arms around her - so desperate that she closed her eyes and ignored every alarming signal that she was being taken by an imposture.

As Hawkeye slowly approached her through the grass, Yeneneshe realized that she pitied the female because she reminded her of herself. After their tribe was slaughtered and scattered to the wind, they were both lost and alone, both hunting for Nkwe and demanding his love and approval. It was pathetic. Why did they need his love and approval to be happy? And as Hawkeye drew close, Yeneneshe made a decision: she would never be like Hawkeye again.

"What are you?" Hawkeye hissed, her shadow falling over Yeneneshe as she approached with swaying hips. "Are you a sniveling little bitch, cowering in the grass, waiting for someone to rescue you? Or are you a proud and free princess of the wilds, determined to stand and rescue yourself?"

Yeneneshe pushed herself up from the grass with shaking arms. She stood and lifted her chin, ignoring the blood that ran down her face. "You're one to talk," she said. "Chasing after my brother when you know damn well he doesn't want you?"

Hawkeye flinched angrily at the very mention of Nkwe. She lifted her paw to strike Yeneneshe across the face, and her paw halted, as if it had met an invisible wall. Yeneneshe slowly smiled: she had pushed out an invisible force field to protect herself. Hawkeye cocked a brow and stepped back, clearly impressed.

"What a shame," Hawkeye said with sincere sadness. "You could have been magnificent. You are magnificent. But Nkwe will never see that. Neither will Ettoras. You are but a weak, sniveling girl who must be protected and coddled to them."

"It doesn't matter," Yeneneshe said coldly. "I see it."

Hawkeye smiled with the bright, vicious eyes of a cat. "Very good, girl. Very good. You will die well." She lunged.

Yeneneshe screamed when Hawkeye broke through her barrier and tackled her down. They tumbled through the grass together, and she could feel Hawkeye's nails clawing at her scalp, tearing up flesh and blood. Hawkeye had forsaken all magic and was tearing into her with physical attacks: she was tired. Yeneneshe had barely used her magic, had conserved it throughout the fight, and now was her chance. She screamed, and energy exploded from her, sending Hawkeye flying back through the air. The witch landed in a cloud of dirt, and as Yeneneshe scrambled to her feet, she could hear Hawkeye's low, rasping breaths.

Now it was Yeneneshe's turn to slowly and arrogantly approach her fallen opponent. She was still wearing Nkwe's bearskin coat and it was open to reveal her naked body, curvy and small, the breasts full and ripe and high in the moonlight. She approached Hawkeye with a swaying white tail, her chin lifted, her eyes narrowed in fury but tinged with sadness. Her mane was a mess around her shoulders, and she could feel the little aches and burns throbbing all over her body. She didn't think she could stand another minute. But it would only take one minute to finish Hawkeye off.

"Yes, kill me," Hawkeye sneered. She lay on her belly with her big breasts smashed between her arms, her tail dragging through the grass, her black dress torn. Her long fingers curled in the dirt, the black nails raking it up. Blood was running from her lip, and her black mane fell across one pretty eye. The other eye, after having been stabbed by Nkwe, was a bloody mash of flesh, a congealed wound. Yeneneshe knew she'd only won the fight because Hawkeye was already wounded and weak. But she didn't let the fact steal her sense of satisfaction for having won: even a wounded Hawkeye should have been unstoppable.

"Why have you done this?" Yeneneshe asked coldly.

"And now the girl tries to make sense of it all," rasped Hawkeye in amusement. "Isn't it obvious? I wish to get back at your brother! Hurting you is the easiest way. He loves you more than anything else in this world. He always has. You and Mogethis . . ." She laughed bitterly. "I would have thought he was fucking Mogethis if I didn't know better."

Yeneneshe's lips parted in surprise.

"Has he sucked your titties yet?" Hawkeye mocked, her lips twisting in a smirk.

"Shut up!" Yeneneshe shrieked.

Hawkeye laughed again. "And so he has. What then, girl? Aren't you going to kill me?" Her listless gaze trailed away. "Get it over with."

Yeneneshe swallowed hard. It wasn't the first time she had killed someone, and while she didn't regret having killed the dog back at Canderly, it didn't mean she enjoyed _doing_it. She lifted her paw with curled fingers, her pink nails glossy in the moonlight. She lifted Hawkeye telekinetically by the neck, and the witch's body rose into the air like a puppet. Hawkeye grunted from the pressure on her throat and tears started down her face.

"Who do you kill me for?" Hawkeye whispered bitterly. "For Nkwe?"

Yeneneshe's eyes glinted. "No. This is for me."

Hawkeye smiled with trembling lips. "Good girl. . . Smart girl."

Yeneneshe snatched her paw into a fist, and the witch's neck snapped like a twig. She let her paw drop, and Hawkeye's limp body collapsed to the grass. She was staring dully into space when Ettoras landed from the sky and came running to her side. He touched her shoulder, and before she could turn to look at him, her eyes rolled back in her head. And she collapsed.