Coil of Worlds

Even through the door’s acoustic barrier, the constant barrage of clicks broke her concentration. Frantic, she looked around the room, hoping she’d missed something in her initial search.

Lara felt his urgency when Chion responded, I am coming.

He was far closer than he’d been a few minutes earlier. But she couldn’t rely on him to rescue her from the predators. He was still too far away to save her. Becoming hysterical at the hopelessness of the situation wouldn’t save her life. She bullied her brain through the fear running rampant in her body.

She needed a weapon. Her eyes settled on the table. With grim determination, she slid down the length of the door, her weight firmly against the door, keeping it shut. The first hit against the door jolted her whole body, and she grunted aloud.

Listening to their hisses, she slid her right foot out, inch by slow inch, toward the table. Holding her breath, she hooked one of the table legs and dragged it to her. She cried out in pain. Her feet screamed from the abuse they’d taken in her mad dash for shelter. Her whimpers only made the rakir hit the door with more determination.

The middle of the door—where her head would have been if she was still standing—came apart with wood splinters flying everywhere. She grasped the legs with both hands. With a grunt of pure strength, she flipped the table onto its side and tried to tear off one of the legs. It didn’t move. She wordlessly screamed her frustration at the table.

The clicks rose in excitement amidst the scrabbling of claws, rending the hole wider and lower. Glancing up, she saw large splinters of wood hung precariously from the gap. She had less than ten seconds before the rakir reached her head. Thank God for thick doors. With renewed strength, Lara wedged the table into position and used her leg muscles to break the leg off at the joint.

With a shout of triumph, she hefted the table leg in her right hand. It was now a sizable, makeshift club. Ignoring the bite of pain that threatened her consciousness, she used both feet to push-kick the table across the room, giving herself more room to maneuver. She looked up just as a rakir stuck his head into the opening, sending the last piece of splintered wood into her face.

She leaned her head aside to knock off the wood latched to her hair and scrambled away from the door, standing not quite a yard inside the doorway. Without her body holding the door shut, their combined weight opened it several inches. Her only chance of survival was to fight one lizard at a time. This meant she needed to position herself in front of the door, forcing the rakir to enter one at a time. Lara swallowed with shaky resolve. She hoped the tactic worked.

She clutched the club and stared at the creatures as one sinuous body approached. It leapt forward using its hind legs for leverage, slamming the door open. The rakir climbing through the hole clambered down to the floor a nanosecond before the door hit the wall. The swiftness of the attack caught her off guard. Unable to finish her wordless cry, she swung her club like a baseball bat and hit its snout with all her might. The impact of the hit caused both of her hands and right arm to go numb. The rakir dropped, knocked unconscious before it hit the ground.

Seeing one of the pack senseless on the ground, the rakir stopped, chattering and hissing amongst themselves, giving her the necessary time to shake some feeling back into her arm. She warily watched as the animals placed themselves into some kind of attack formation.

The middle one attacked with a loud hiss, coming in low, trying to locate a weak point in her defense. She watched him with the vigilance of prey—holding her breath. She balanced on the balls of her bleeding feet, preparing herself for her next swing. When he was a foot away, she swung down with the intention of crushing his skull. He jumped back a few scant inches a moment before the club would have hit him. Although she tried to stop in mid-swing, her momentum wouldn’t let her. Her club splintered on the dirt and stone floor, and she shrieked in frustration and disbelief.

Lara had no choice but to retreat deeper into the room. The pack slunk toward her, leaving the unconscious rakir behind them. They entered the room fully alert to her every move. They formed a semi-circle, cutting off any chance of escape. Lara screamed again and threw the splintered club, hitting the one closest to her with a satisfying thud. The animal stopped for a moment, shook its head, and then took up its slow stalk.

She stumbled into the edge of the table. She was boxed into the corner. She turned and jumped to the other side of the table. Even her terrified brain registered the fact that an upside-down table was no safeguard against the agile rakir. She didn’t even realize she was whispering aloud one phrase. “I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die.”

A rakir on both sides readied themselves to charge. If both attacked at the same time, she wasn’t going to survive. Just as their leg muscles tightened for the leap, a flash of white streaked into the room with a ferocious roar. The roar ended in a deafening feline scream that shook the small room, and all movement ceased momentarily in shock. The white body ambushed the middle animal, rolling the creature onto its back. Chion gave an angry hiss as he slashed his right paw across the rakir’s soft throat. It died with a last, bloody breath bubbling through the slashed ribbons. All the rakir clicked and hissed in agitation at seeing one of their own dead. Chion’s attack gave her the small respite needed to wrench off another table leg.

My Lady, I will distract them while you run. Run until you find an enclosed room and hide until I come to you.

He didn’t have to tell her that he would have to kill the entire pack. He growled and bared his teeth as three rakir attacked from different directions, distracting him from the rakir creeping forward, using his blind spot—his back. Chion used the dead rakir as a barrier between two of the creatures. With a speed that she caught only as a blur, Chion lifted his left foot toward one rakir. With razor sharp claws extended, the strike left a wounded torso in its path, taking the rakir out of the hunt while it twisted in pain.

Without reaching a conscious decision, she stalked the last rakir, mimicking the lizard as it crept toward Chion. She couldn’t leave Chion to fight the rakir alone. With the noise from the ongoing struggle, the rakir didn’t hear her approach. As it prepared to pounce onto Chion’s unprotected back, she took the last step as she swung the club from above her head straight down in a hacking motion. The club struck the rakir’s skull with a sickening crunch. It crumpled into a boneless heap at her feet.

With adrenaline rushing through her veins, hearing nothing but an internal roaring in her head, she slammed the club again and again into its head. When she felt positive it was dead, she looked up, her chest heaving. Lara straightened, watching in awe as Chion, absolutely fearsome in his feline fury, wiped the floor with the remaining lizards.

Comparing the two species against one another, she realized the two rakir could not compete against Chion’s strength, speed, and fury. Chion growled and the rakir hissed—a stand-off before the next attack began. Holding her breath, Lara was afraid to blink, fearing she’d miss the oncoming battle. One rakir leapt forward, its front claws out and his jaws open at the same time the other lizard faked to the left, coming in for Chion’s soft underbelly.

Before she could shout a warning, Chion twisted his flexible spine in a snakelike fashion, forcing the first rakir to land upside down on the other. A whoosh of air exploded from both animals. Chion landed on the top rakir while both were stunned breathless, leaving behind ribbons of skin as he raked his claws down its torso and stomach. With squeals of pain between hisses of anger, the lizard died a slow, painful death—its four legs twitching. Chion, with complete disdain, swept the dead rakir off to expose the one trapped beneath. She stared. The creature was already dead; his ribcage crushed from the combined weight of the paka’s pounce and the other rakir.

The paka turned around, his sides heaving, splattered blood coating his white fur. He gazed at her. In the quiet aftermath, Lara realized his legs were drenched red with the blood of the dead rakir. He’d been bitten by one of the lizards, its teeth rendering a nasty wound to his shoulder. The image of him was too much for her mind, and she could only stare at him with wide, frightened eyes. After a few seconds, she tore her eyes away from the sight and turned to look down at the rakir.

Four of the creatures were nothing but bloody carcasses, almost unrecognizable in death. Seeing the lizard she killed with her club, she lifted the blunt object to find blood dripping sluggishly down the table leg onto her hand.

She dropped the weapon with a sob. Shaking her head back and forth, she backed up until she hit the wall. Her hands were covered in dark blood, her arms splattered from the spurts of blood from her wild swings. A chill crept in as her body went into shock. Still staring at her hands, she whispered, I’ve never killed before.

You were very courageous.

Lara jerked her eyes toward Chion. He hadn’t moved from his location, obviously afraid to startle her more than her fragile state of mind could handle. His eyes undid her though. They held respect for her courage and the knowledge of what it had taken her to kill.

Unable to stand any longer, she collapsed to the floor, huddling into a protective ball. As she cried, Lara kept Chion’s blurry form in sight. The paka saved her life. Lara brought her right hand up to wipe the tears away before she remembered the blood. It made her shudder and cry harder. Embarrassed by her own emotional display, she tucked her face into her knees. Slowly, her pride took over and the tears slowed until she was able to lift reddened eyes and a tear-streaked face to look again at Chion.

He wasn’t in the room; only the dead bodies of the lizards kept her company. Somehow, he had known she hated to cry in front of anyone and left her in privacy. Knowing he was nearby, she called out, Chion?

He came around the broken door and looked in, his ears flicking water drops away as they ran down the sensitive skin. While she cried from the sudden adrenaline crash, he’d found water to bathe. His coat was back to its previous glory, only marred by the single bite on his shoulder.

“Thank you for saving my life.”

His eyes lit into a smile, and he said with grave formality, You are most welcome, My Lady. You fought well and bravely. With a slight pause, he continued hesitantly, I know you are gravely injured, but staying in this room of death will only exhaust you more. I, for one, have no wish to stay.

His thoughtfulness threatened to bring forth another round of tears. When she stood up, he warned, You will soon find that when the shock leaves your body you will be stiff and feel sore. Soon, you will be unable to move. Let us leave this place before that comes to pass.

When she nodded, he gracefully turned and glided out of the room. Lara followed at a more cautious pace, sidestepping the still bodies and the blood, holding her breath against the odor of death.

When Lara stepped over the remnants of the door, she inhaled a deep breath of fresh air. Already she felt better. She grimaced. As Chion predicted, she was beginning to feel the effects of the battle, but the all-consuming pain coming from her feet overrode even the worst ache. Her feet were a mess. Her bandages were completely soaked through with blood. She didn’t know whether all the blood was hers or not, but enough of it was. No wonder the rakir had chased her through the corridors with such ease. She’d probably left bloody footprints behind.

Although the effects of adrenaline shielded her from the intense pain while fighting for her life, Lara was now paying for the abuse tenfold. With a quiet groan, she dropped to the floor a few feet from the shattered door and unstrapped her sandals.

She realized, then, that her right arm wasn’t working properly. It felt like internal bruising. Gritting her teeth, Lara overlooked the tenderness. She wasn’t prepared to take full inventory of her body. Her feet were all she could handle. The shoes both came off with a sucking pop, and the loss of the extra weight on her legs felt good. Aware Chion hovered a safe distance from her, she threw the shoes one at a time in the other direction in revulsion. She debated taking the bandages off, but she had nothing to replace them with.

“I have to leave this place so I can re-bandage my feet. I was only supposed to sleep for thirty minutes. Becky should have come in by now.” She frowned in sudden confusion. “I should have been back in my room hours ago. It doesn’t make any sense. Anytime now I’ll wake up.” She gazed up at Chion, silently pleading with him to understand even though she didn’t. “If I vanish, I’ll come back as soon as I can. Please believe me.”

He had saved her life and had in fact run to her rescue. However, neither of them knew the other. Although she no longer believed he would kill her, she was not so naïve to think he completely trusted her. As she watched, he flicked his right ear back as he gazed at her with his golden cat eyes. Blinking once, he sat down on his haunches.

I do not understand what you speak of, but I do know you saved my life even as I saved yours. Opening his mouth slightly, the tips of his sharp teeth peeked from under his lips as he considered his next words. So I will trust that you are not my enemy. Furthermore, I trust you will return in your own time. When you return will be soon enough to speak of this.

In sudden relief, she grinned at him. He was so formal in his speech, making her think of regency England. “I promise that as soon as I am back, and if nothing else threatens to kill us, I’ll tell you everything I know.” She waved one blood-caked finger in front of her. “But I’ll warn you now, I really don’t know anything.”