Chapter 37: The Breaking and Entering

It's only illegal if you get caught.

***

“I smell him,” Janurana said in a normal volume, but it felt as loud as a yell compared to their whispers. “Right ahead.”

Dhanur readied an arrow. “Anyone else?”

Janurana shook her head.

They crouched, braving the damp fronds and sharp branches. A few geckos bolted away as both Dhanur and Janurana peered through the undergrowth. Night had fully settled and, like the Outside in the south, the darkness had turned the world into an intangible haze of flickering outlines. Rays of violet moonlight pierced the canopy as the did before sun and illuminated the the white foam spraying from the growing river rapids. It had reached a cliff’s edge, splitting in half before cascading into a lake below. The fork left a small, triangular spit of land clasping the edge like a doomed man’s last finger.

“Mmrn.” Janurana sniffed loudly.

“What?”

“His scent is so weak.”

“Yeah, he’s soaked, isn’t he?” Dhanur narrowed her focus to look for any strip of bright red from his new clothes. There was nothing but nearly black forest green.

“It’s been a while, though. It should be stronger.” Janurana paused. “I smell others. Faintly.”

Dhanur rolled her eyes. There was an irrational fragment of hope before. However, it was then clear her father was taken and didn’t just faint and float away before they’d noticed. “Light lost magic.”

Janurana gasped and shoved Dhanur into the dirt before she’d even thought to move. 

A small fish came swimming up one of the waterfalls as if it were any other stream. It dragged behind it a white block, dripping water and steaming in the still heat of the night. The block carried a few warriors, braced against each other for support even as their feet were wedged into shaped footholds. 

The fish leapt from the waterfall and beached itself on the spit of land. It wiggled further, pulling the water block up the riverbank like a boat. The warriors happily scrambled off.

“Why does it have to be cold?” one whined to the fish.

It flopped helplessly on the grass before leaping higher and higher until it was as high as the warrior’s head, then erupted in a burst of steam. When it cleared, the Fish Clan Spirit Min jabbed the warrior’s chest.

“Stop complaining,” she demanded.

The Fish Clan warrior cowed. “Sorry.”

“Matikal!” Min yelled up.

A vine carpeted with pink flowers descended from the canopy in a loop, on which Matikal swung. She landed with the grace of a falling petal.

“One last group coming in, okay?” Min said, pointing north on the opposite bank of the river from Dhanur and Janurana.

“Splendid!” Matikal’s voice was like a screeching songbird. “The last night patrol has just gone down river! Did you see?” She took the Fish Clan spirit by the shoulder who forced a smile at her peppy attitude.

“Yes…”

“Come come!” Matikal plucked a petal from her hair and ate it. “Let us retire inside!”

The Clan Tree spirit threw her arm up and the ground obeyed. The triangular bit of land shook like the spirits were lifting the entire cliffside from the world. Instead, the dirt and ferns gave way to reveal a row of vines pushed together like a trapdoor. As it rose, none of the displaced plants were harmed, instead looking like they politely moved. Just as the vines came to a halt, a small orb of pulsating red light flew out of the hole like it had been waiting all day to escape. Without dropping its speed, it shot down to the spirits who didn’t flinch, except to close their eyes. It encapsulated their heads then flew up with a satisfied and painfully annoying ‘ding’. However, when it reached the final warrior, it bounced and turned blue. Its ding became an oscillating and enraged drone.

“Approved, approved!” both spirits and all the other warriors yelled.

The last warrior took off her helmet, revealing her southern skin and rubbed her temples in frustration. 

Janurana blinked, then turned to Dhanur, who waved her hand in front of her northern face, then down to her southern armor. Janurana nodded.

As the ball of light turned red and shot back into the tunnel, every warrior went inside with Matikal happily ushering them in. Min, however, didn’t move.

“Min?” Matikal cocked her head.

The Clan Fish spirit ran her gaze across the tree line, sucking in breaths of air and wiggling the bright red gills on her neck.

“Min. What’s wrong?”

“Intruders in the air.”

Dhanur and Janurana froze. They had barely moved before, but neither dared to even blink, let alone breathe or twitch. Both of them stared, watching the fish spirit taste away, starting to hone in on their position. Time seemed to slow, as it does for such situations, but neither had a thought in their head, just simple, preparedness to act.

“Of course there is, Minny!” Matikal leapt forward to hug her, but Min stayed focused. “You just brought one here. No wonder you still taste him. Now come on, have some leaves with me. Forget about Atampara.” She wiped a few of the petals on Min’s lips who shrugged and gobbled them up. When they entered, the door didn’t close behind them.

After a few minutes, both Dhanur and Janurana sighed heavily, but quietly.

“Did you understand them?” Janurana asked.

“Not much. Something about cold, one more something, Bits and pieces. You?”

Janurana shrugged. “I believe Min is the fish one’s name. And there was some sort of code for that piercing ball.”

“Yeah, that was obvious,” Dhanur scoffed, then rolled her eyes when Janurana slowly blinked. “Ugh. Sorry. Come on.”

“Dhanur.” Janurana pointed to the river.

“What? Can’t ya just jump?” Dhanur flustered, looking back and forth over the river.

“If I could I would have said ‘oh no’.” She pointed behind them and crossed her arms as Dhanur drew her bow. “And jumped that canyon river when you weren’t looking.”

“Ugh. Fine. Can’t swim across anyways.” Dhanur holstered her bow over her fully armored shoulder. “Didn’t happen to see a crossing, did ya?” 

“No.”

“And the fish swam up. Probably no other way up either.” Dhanur planned, whispering to herself. She fiddled with a notch on her belt in lieu of her drink skin.

“Perhaps then…” Janurana thought too, keeping an ear open as they whispered. But nothing was rustling in the distance. “We go up?”

Dhanur struggled to see the canopy. “Yeah, sure. Let me just,” she ran her hand over the massive tree next to them with no branches to grab.

“It’s high enough for me and I can carry you.”

Dhanur recoiled. “Wh-Carry?” she stammered.

“Dhanur. We just talked about this,” Janurana said as firmly as a whisper would allow. “We don’t have time for your… stuff. I understand and I’m sorry, but someone might come out at any moment and Guru Brachen is still in peril.”

“Yeah. Yeah. You’re right.” Forcing a neutral expression, Dhanur swallowed and held out her arms. But instead, Janurana scooped up her legs. She suddenly felt so much smaller on Janurana’s thin yet powerful arms and her eyes went wide, grabbing onto Janurana’s soft northern clothes out of instinct.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Janurana reassured her as if she were a child, then launched herself upwards. 

Dhanur slammed her arms around Janurana with her mouth clenched as tightly shut as her eyes. A colony of bats abandoned the swarm of bugs they had been attacking as Janurana bounded past them, leaping between the trees. Not a single arrow in Dhanur’s quiver rattled while they ascended. The only sound Dhanur could hear was her heart nearly breaking through her chest as the gwomoni who held her completely in her power landed gracefully on a branch as wide as any southern tree trunk. 

“Dhanur,” Janurana said. A macaque on the end of the branch yelped in surprise as Janurana’s landing was completely silent. “Dhanur.” Janurana gently shook the bronze clad and shivering warrior.

Dhanur made some sort of guttural noise that she thought sounded like words and popped her eyes open. 

“I’m flattered but you can release me now,” Janurana chuckled. 

Blushing, Dhanur slowly unhooked her hands from Janurana’s clothes. She couldn’t deny how nice it was to be doing something akin to hugging, then shook her head at that being what her mind decided to focus on. But when she scrambled out of Janurana’s arms, she regretted sending that away as suddenly she could only think that Janurana was as fast as Gehsek. Seizing a nearby shoot, Dhanur got her footing, scanned the surrounding area, saw nothing, and motioned for Janurana to follow.

‘You’re welcome,’ Janurana mouthed, but shrugged. She had no trouble keeping her balance and walked along the branch like it was a bridge. 

Dhanur shifted her hand from shoot to shoot, keeping an eye on the water and surrounding jungle. There was precious little she could make out and she absentmindedly shook out the last bits of dirt from her hair that didn’t fly out when Janurana leapt up.

Janurana watched Dhanur’s hair effortlessly cascade back to a fitting, somewhat disheveled tousle even though she had been without a comb for some time. She touched her own untamable hair. As blunt and annoying as Dhanur might be, Janurana thought that it wouldn’t be wholly unpleasant if Dhanur were to hug her properly at some point.

She pushed the thought away to focus.

They made it over the river and stood right before the vine on which Matikal had arrived. Dhanur turned to Janurana, who nodded as she wasn’t tired out by the current, who in turn pointed to the vine and mimed out sliding down it. Dhanur shook her head, tapped the vine with her foot, and leapt back. It writhed and firmly swatted at her. With a sigh, she held up her arms again.

With another noiseless landing, Janurana put Dhanur down, who instantly drew and spun in a circle. She inched her way to the trap door, still hanging open. Instead of peeking inside, she let her bow show over the opening for a moment and pulled it back. There was no response. Then she slowly looked over its threshold. The door led to a pit with a ramp built into the side illuminated by the glowing rave of flashing colors as the northerners used their magic.

“Come on,” Dhanur whispered.

Janurana was busy inspecting the block of water. It was still solid, still steaming, but shrinking as well. She poked it. “It’s cold!”

“Don’t touch that!”

The ball of light from before flew out of the trap door like a charging rhino. Dhanur didn’t miss a beat, spun, and loosed her arrow directly into its center. She leapt aside as the ball turned the arrow inside it and sent it back with just as much speed. Rather than continue attacking, it flew right at Dhanur’s head. Her bow and hand swiped uselessly through it and she fell to the ground. Janurana ran to her comrade’s aid, about to try to rip the ball off, but it flew up with a satisfied ‘ding’ before she touched it. It did the same for Janurana, then turned blue and droned angrily.

“Uh-Uh-Approved!” Janurana did her best to replicate the northern word that had been used before.

“Yeah! Approved!” Dhanur parroted.

Instantly, the orb flew back into the trap door as if their scuffle never happened.

“You alright?” Dhanur asked, hauling herself up.

“It didn’t feel pleasant, if that’s what you mean.” Janurana rubbed her flushed cheek. “At least they were courteous enough to leave the door open for us.”

“I’ll bet they have other patrols moving in and out soon. Check the hole for me. Can’t see anything.” Dhanur retrieved her arrow and drew again.

‘Probably should have asked her to do that instead’a looking around myself,’ Dhanur thought.

Janurana looked over the door’s edge and confirmed there was nothing.

“Well, take the lead then, you can see.” Dhanur urged her on.

“It’s a threshold.”

Dhanur side stepped in and held out a hand for Janurana. “Come on.”

The route down assaulted them with unfamiliar scents and sounds. Brachen’s scent had leaked through like an unsecured dram alongside sounds of warriors bashing away with practiced drills, scents of jungle boar being roasted or fruit being glazed, and the normal humdrum of a military camp filled their descent.

“Guru Brachen’s scent is much stronger now.” Janurana sniffed wildly to sift through all the smells, then scrunched her nose.

“Good.” Dhanur’s elbow bumped into a piece of bronze hanging from the wall. She leapt back, loosed an arrow into it by instinct, drew again, and waited for Janurana to inspect.

“… It’s a body.” Janurana stepped back.

Dhanur’s eyes struggled to adjust, but she could see the glint of bronze from the skeleton’s helm and chest piece. The flesh was either rotted away or filleted so as not to attract animals. A sign was hanging from the neck with northern expletives scrawled over it. Dhanur recognized one. She forgot what it meant, but it was something against ‘Light’ which her father made sure she knew to avoid if she saw it.

More glints lined the wall, obvious once they had seen one.

Janurana slammed a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp. “One is fresh…” 

Dhanur scoffed and ushered her forward. “Don’t look at ‘em.”

“How can…”

“Revenge. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t do this with Hegwous’ head.” Dhanur pushed Janurana faster before she could smell burning Light ascetic.

Reaching the bottom of the ramp, Dhanur nodded forward for Janurana to inspect under the ramp and the doorway. Janurana leaned forward, sniffing and listening, then shook her head. Both noticed the alarm orb nestled comfortably in its wall slot behind them, but it paid them no mind.

“So, do we have a plan?” Janurana asked, whispering.

Dhanur froze for a moment, “Y-Yeah. Uh…” She regretted not having Aarushi to give commands.

“Dhanur?”

“Did you have one?” Dhanur snapped back.

“What? Aren't you the soldier?”

“Oh, by the Light- Now is not the- ugh,” she stopped, then nodded confidently. “Yeah, got one now.” Unfortunately, her hood wasn’t there to be pulled up. “Dark. Gimme your dupatta.”

“Are you sure?” Janurana tied it around her obviously not Uttaran face.

Dhanur sighed. Instead she approached a skeleton on the wall, bowed to it, and leapt up to snatch its long bronze helm. It was a bit tight and its leather inner cap had faded to dust, but she could tuck her hair up inside nicely. She unstrung her bow and slipped it into her quiver.

“That’s a bit obvious.” Dhanur frowned. “Looks like you’re trying to hide your face.”

“I suppose so,” Janurana relented.

She decided to let her wild hair fly free. She didn’t need to muss it up to look like she had been running. For once, its untamable spirit came in handy. To complete her disguise, she flopped onto the floor, and rolled back and forth to cover herself in more dirt.

Dhanur held out her hand to help her companion up, which Janurana graciously accepted, her unsullied and delicate fingers clasping Dhanur’s rough leather gloves.

“Thank you for helping me find my father.” Dhanur nodded before turning Janurana and seizing both her wrists.

“Oh! I wish you had informed me of your plan before handling me so,” Janurana giggled.

“Heh, where’s the fun in that?” Dhanur nudged her forward.

They followed Brachen’s scent through the tunnel, barely adjusting to the lights leaking from the inner chamber as they passed through into the main camp. Dhanur gave Janurana a shove as they entered to sell the captive roleplay but both tried their best not to gawk at their surroundings. Dhanur had never seen a cave of such size in the south or in the Borderlands. She had raided northern tunnels during the war, including some of the larger ones, but they were rarely much more than covered trenches for a few intrepid defenders or a couple modestly sized rooms with basic ventilation.

Warriors of all clans and clanless cheered as Dhanur and Janurana passed by and began hucking yet more fruit cores and bones at the prisoner. A pair of clan Rhino and Kalia warriors who were locking axes in battle to the delight of a mixed clan crowd stopped dead to join. Janurana’s hair did its duty to protect her like some sort of makeshift padded armor. The missiles bounced off her like the badly aimed ones did from Dhanur’s helm.

Dhanur couldn’t help but yell at the throwers who hit her, but this was no more than an indistinct utterance and didn’t portray any southern word.

Through it all, Janurana kept her head down, following her nose, doing her best to direct Dhanur while being pushed by her. They passed through a few camps, and got to the center of the Macaque Clan camp in front of the lift when Janurana looked up.

Dhanur couldn’t even bring herself to curse as she saw Brachen dangling from a vine just above the highest bridge with a group of Uttarans hucking whatever they could at him. Two warriors stood nearby with spears, theoretically supposed to keep him from being killed, but they played dice instead. Dhanur exchanged a terse look with Janurana, glanced up again, and half shrugged as Janurana clenched her teeth. Both of them stepped onto the lift.

Dhanur hesitantly nudged a napping warrior.

“What??” The Clan Macaque warrior flailed like she was being attacked.

Dhanur momentarily froze, realizing the massive hole in her plan, then pointed up.

The warrior scoffed, confused. “Go get a Tree Clan yourself!”

Dhanur and Janurana understood one northern word each, but they got the message. As the warrior rolled over to go back to sleep, she stopped suddenly shot to her feet.

“Hey. Where’s your Clan mark, warrior?? Hey!” She grabbed Dhanur’s shoulder, who thankfully stopped her instinctual reaction to fight. “What are you, clanless??”

Janurana understood the last word and covered her head, as if she were about to be executed there. “No!” she exclaimed in southern.

“No,” Dhanur said in northern and turned away.

The warrior was unconvinced. She jogged in front of them. “So? Macaque, Moth? Rhino??”

A few warriors and porters left their cooking or weapon tending and began to form a crowd. Janurana and Dhanur pressed into each other as others woke up to complain about the noise, only making more of a commotion to attract yet more people.

“No, no, no,” Dhanur repeated and turned to leave, rolling the dice by growling, as though she were above the interrogation. 

Janurana’s eyes went wide like a noblewoman who just saw someone insult the head of a house.

One or two of the crowd left, concluding it was just more Clan arguments. 

But the Macaque Clan warrior’s annoyance swelled, then she laughed.

“Ooh. I see. Boar Clan!” She ran up and shoved Dhanur right in the back, almost knocking her over. “Pluck its tusks and still a boar!”

Dhanur spun and threw a left hook. The warrior dodged, right into Dhanur’s right jab. The warrior stumbled back into the crowd. Her head was spinning so she was caught by her jeering Clan Macaque comrades. Dhanur bounced to wake up her muscles, rolling her shoulders. The wounded one gave an angry spasm and she grit her teeth against it.

The Macaque warrior noticed right away and leapt forward. She kept her left arm up like it was holding a shield and jabbed at Dhanur’s shoulder, who effortlessly dodged. Dhanur grabbed the warrior’s shield-less arm, pushed her leg between her opponent’s, and flung her to the ground. One arrow in her quiver rattled.

The crowd was silent. Janurana had been grabbed by a clanless porter, keeping her from running away. One warrior who put a spear to her back to keep her still lobbed it to his comrade. It kicked up a spattering of dust when it landed in front of her.

Dhanur kindly let the warrior haul herself up with her new weapon. A Macaque Clan Spirit shoved her way through the crowd, towering over everyone. She inspected the combatants, then nodded.

“First blood!” she declared to the cheer of everyone.

“Stop!” Janurana cried out as Dhanur’s opponent began her thrusting attacks. Dhanur had no trouble dodging again, but that didn’t ease Janurana’s tension. A few of the northerners they had passed on their way in seemed to be arguing or fighting, and she had met Dhanur by watching her demolish a towering Uttaran man. She wondered if the fight was actually to their advantage rather than avoiding confrontation.

‘I don’t get northerners.’ She thought, deciding it was just something unique to them.

The spirit referee kept her hands on her hips, her tail twitching, then suddenly began sniffing. She focused on Dhanur, who tugged the warrior’s spear toyingly. The southern scent was all over her. But it was all over Janurana too. The spirit furrowed her brow.

Dhanur swatted away another thrust and the warrior brought the butt of her spear up to catch Dhanur’s side. Her scales rattled as the wind left her lungs. She had enough left to jump back as her opponent followed up with a butt spike jab and full sweeping slash. The tip of the spear grazed her bronze. In a flash of instinct, Dhanur pulled out her bow like a little spear of her own and jabbed with the sharpened notches. The two warriors’ weapons became tangled in a close quarters exchange of shifting grips, blocks, feints, and counters. As the long speared warrior faltered with Dhanur’s shorter, unstrung bow being much less unwieldy up close, she wreathed her weapon in green light. Dhanur was knocked back, the magic repulsing her weapon. The warrior took up her stance again, but with the green light forming a shield.

“No! Taboo!” The Macaque spirit’s yelled and her voice echoed through the tunnel. It rattled the tents of the Macaque camp and stumbled everyone in the crowd.

The warrior threw up her hands quickly, dropping her spear and the shield evaporating.

“No magic during retribution!” The spirit scolded the warrior like a child with her tail straight up.

“It’s just a Boar!” With a huff, the warrior spat at Dhanur.

The crowd began to disperse, murmuring and spitting at both Dhanur and Janurana, if they weren’t hurling insults. One threw a dirt clod that disintegrated on Dhanur’s helmet. She growled, biting her tongue, then went to Janurana’s side. Both exchanged a knowing look before Dhanur got behind her again.

“Did you actually kill the southern dhanur?” The Clan Spirit had stayed behind.

“Uh…” Instinctively, Dhanur went to rake her hair back since a clay red lock had fallen in front of her face, knocked loose during the drama.

The word “traitor” couldn’t leave the spirit’s throat fast enough.

Author's Note

We hope you have a nice day.