Page 33 of Sun Warrior

Dead Eye’s legs went weak with relief, and he dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in the curve of her waist. Her hands caressed him, moving from his back to his shoulders and then up to stroke the thick blond hair that he kept tied back with a leather cord.

Her hands suddenly stilled.

Dead Eye held his breath, knowing what she had discovered.

“Horns?” she whispered.

He nodded into her waist. “Yes, though I think it more accurate to call them antlers.”

She didn’t hesitate for one instant. Dove pressed her lips to him twice—once against each of the small, pointed antlers that had begun to grow from his scalp above his ears.

Dead Eye released a long breath in relief.Still she accepts me!

“My Champion, you are a mighty leader filled with the wisdom of man and the strength of a stag. Where you go, the People will follow,” Dove said, still stroking him. “Where you go,Iwill follow.”

“It truly begins today!” With a movement filled with the strength and agility of a stag, Dead Eye lifted her and carried her to their thick pallet. “But first, I must have your blessing, Oracle.”

Dove’s soft, clever hands moved lower on his body. “Gladly I give it, and myself, to you. The God is dead, but the future of our People lives on in you, my Champion.”

Dead Eye meant to tell her that she was beyond beautiful—that she was his life and his breath, that she made himwantto be a true Champion of the People—but her greedy mouth was on his, stilling his words and causing the blood to pound so fiercely through his body that he moaned in pleasure and the only word he could speak was her name, which he shouted over and over.

***

It was still raining when Dead Eye led ten of the strongest and bravest of his People to the edge of the boundary of the City.

The small group hesitated, sending nervous glances into the verdant green before them. The Hunter called Stalker was the first to speak. “Champion, we enter the forest during a blaze? I do not wish to question your authority…” He paused there, bowing low, hands to the earth in supplication as if to show Dead Eye great respect, though when he glanced up Dead Eye noticed that the Hunter’s gaze skittered nervously away. “I only wish to know what type of Hunt you lead us on. Are we to capture the Others as they flee the fire?”

Dead Eye waited several breaths before allowing Stalker to rise. He noted that the demeanor of the rest of the men seemed more watchful. They were silent, waiting attentively for Dead Eye to speak.

Dead Eye understood Stalker’s fear of the forest. Hunters and Harvesters were comfortable within the confines of their City. It was there they knew every section of the ruined landscape, both above and below the crumbling buildings and the strange iron structures. But there was a marked difference in Stalker’s attitude and the calm, respectful way the rest of the group looked to him.Something to consider for the future.

“We do not hunt Others today,” Dead Eye explained, speaking in short, clipped sentences. “We hunt sacrificial animals. I have plans for the Others. Many, many plans. But not today. Today we enter the forest and climb.”

Without waiting to see whether Stalker had more questions, Dead Eye sprinted away, heading up to Forest Park, the name the People had given the highest part of the hilly area northwest of the City. Up and to the north Dead Eye climbed, and as he jogged farther and farther toward the peak of Forest Park and the gorge that separated their City and the mountain range on which the City in the Trees had been built, he rejoiced in his powerful body. He did not tire. Instead of climbing laboriously over fallen logs and rain-swollen ditches, Dead Eye leaped easily over them, pushing himself as he came to each obstacle to see if he could run faster and jump higher.

He could.

Dead Eye realized that he had just begun to test the surface of his newfound abilities.

He reached the peak well ahead of the other men, so he stood, breathing deeply but effortlessly, at the edge of the ridge, staring across the jagged gorge that divided Forest Park from the mountain ridge that held the Tribe of the Trees.

The fire was out, but the damage done to the City in the Trees was extensive. From his vantage on the ridge he could see that the city still smoldered. It appeared as if a giant, or perhaps a God, had taken a burning torch and dragged it through the forest, leaving a swath of blackened rubble and destruction in its wake.

“More than half,” he murmured to himself. “More than half of the city is gone. Perhaps more than half of the Tribe have perished as well.” He expression was feral. “That helps to even the odds against us.”

The Harvester called Iron Fist was the first to join him. Iron Fist staggered up the last of the ridge, wiping sweat from his brow as he made his way to Dead Eye. When Iron Fist reached him, the Harvester bowed low, pressing himself into the earth, before he spoke.

“I see the mighty stag in you, Champion!” Iron Fist spoke in excited bursts between heaving breaths, his face still bowed to the earth.

“You may rise,” Dead Eye said as the rest of the group staggered to them. “Iron Fist, tell me more of what you say you see in me.”

“I see your skin does not crack. I see you grow more powerful by the day. I see that you are much like a God yourself!”

Dead Eye had begun to smile at Iron Fist when Stalker limped through the group to them, clutching his side and gulping air. “It is blasphemous to name the Champion, or anyone except our Reaper, a God.”

“And yet we all see he has been touched by our Reaper! His skin is healed. He has become mighty, like a great forest stag,” insisted Iron Fist.

“But it is not the way of the People to have more than one God,” Stalker insisted.