Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OCs. Just rekindling an old love of a favorite fandom.
A.N: This story is about a young woman who lives with the choices she makes. Not Atlantis-centric.
A.N#2: Written to Yoko Kanno's Zankyou no Terror, "walt," "lev low," and "birden." Other notable songs were Lubomyr Melnk's "Parasol (excerpt)," Greg Haines' "The Spin," Nils Fram's "Says," and Ramin Djawadi's Game of Thrones Season Six OST.
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"Kiss me, and you will see how important I am."
―Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
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Beneath the Mourning Door
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PART I
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In the end it was the boy who told her about the trapped Wraith.
Siha was tempted not to believe him, but Kay's face was too pale, and he'd never lied to her before. She stood up after a moment and donned her long hunting knife and her grandda's rapid-pistol. It was just after dawn. No one marked their passing from the camp, or if they did, they made no mention. If the lowest-ranked members wanted to risk their necks and leave the safety of the group, who were they to stop them?
Kay moved like a shadow through the forest, hardly disturbing a leaf. Siha felt like a cow besides him. Her grandda had taught her much about woodcraft, but Kay was in a class of his own. He spent more time in the forest than any of camp, and he threaded through the trees as if part of the wilderness itself. It was no surprise he'd find the Wraith out of all of them, even before the patrols.
The scenery grew wilder the farther they left the camp's boundaries. Twice Siha glanced Kay's way. When they reached the invisible line of no-man's land, she stopped him with a hiss.
"You sure?" she asked.
Kay only responded in woodspeak, that curious combination of facial expression and hand signal. Trust me. I'm sure.
Siha was tempted to turn back. It was death to be caught in no-man's land. But the pinched, almost feverish combination of excitement and fear never left his face, and a similar heady anticipation began to warm her belly. Like every other human in the galaxy she grew up hearing tales of the Wraith. The forest she lived in was dense and secluded. Something in the woods made electronics malfunction, corrupting navigation systems and communications alike. Few Wraith bothered them. Up until a year ago, she'd thought she'd live out her life with only stories about the people-eaters.
Then newcomers from another galaxy woke the Wraith.
While competition had always been fierce between the camps, the Wraiths' premature awakening triggered an almost feverish struggle for prime forest locations. Everyone wanted to hide as Wraith hunted and culled with a previously-unseen ravenous abandon.
Siha didn't turn back. She wanted to see the Wraith.
They entered no-man's land in furtive silence. The boy quickened to a low, crouching run, following a trail only he could see, moving as one possessed. Siha struggled to both keep up and maintain stealth, trying to shake off the horrible sense of being watched. The little breakfast she'd eaten was already forgotten. By the time Kay held up a hand to stop Siha was glancing over her shoulder every few beats, hand on her rapid-pistol's handle. Kay had them huddling by an old, gnarled tree. Though she trusted the boy's wood sense, it still felt too open. We should go back, she thought.
Then she heard it.
No, felt. It was almost a vibration in her fingertips. At first she thought it came from one of forest's native cats and curled her hand tighter around her rapid-pistol. Then the noise changed. It became heavy soughs of air, as if someone was struggling against bonds but were exhausted beyond all measure. It lasted only a moment before dropping back into the inaudible tremor.
Siha wet dried lips and stared hard at the boy. For the first time since he crouched by her campfire and whispered the words I found a Wraith, he returned her regard with a steady one of his own. He lifted an index finger and ran it down the bridge of his nose. Close. Be careful.
Burning curiosity overwhelmed good sense. The young woman rose from her crouch and walked around the large tree blocking her view, heart pounding. Gooseflesh erupted across the young woman's arms.
A Wraith lay bound on its side in the crotch of a large tree, stricken and hunched. Its eyes were closed. A wire was wrapped around its throat similar to the snaring technique she used on small mammals and birds. The Wraith had managed to stick three fingers of its right hand under the wire, keeping itself from being throttled completely. The other arm lay in an unnatural angle by its side, broken.
Whoever set the snare implemented a twofold design: a type of claw-tooth trap, the same one her camp used to anchor large prey to the ground, clenched around the back of one of its thighs. The moment she saw the claw-tooth, she realized who had set the trap. Not two weeks ago her camp played the dubious host to a Runner, and though she'd seen little of the hulking, dreadlocked man, she'd heard stories of how he could settle a chill on someone's heart with a single look. Devastatingly handsome and haunted in equal measure, he was gone that afternoon, much to the relief and wonder of the camp. However, before he left, he traded one of his blades wrapped in Wraith hair for a claw-tooth trap. Siha's camp leader, Fhuhu, had instantly agreed to the trade. He, like many others, believed there was powerful magic in possessing Wraith parts. Siha agreed, but had the radical idea it went beyond the physical sense.
It was unheard of to see lone Wraith this deep in the forest. Normally they culled the unprotected nomad camps too small or weak to enter the woods. It'd must've been hunting the Runner, she thought. She stepped closer to the bleeding creature. With the wire around its neck and claw-tooth at its leg, every attempt it made to lessen the hold of the one tightened the other. Caught between two hells, she thought without pity, marveling at the simple cruelty of the scene with professional appreciation. Instead of killing his pursuer, the Runner had arranged the Wraith so it was stretched between the two traps, given enough slack to strangle itself. The Runner had been singularly cruel, though no crueler than the Wraith for destroying the man's life.
The Wraith lay as if already dead, the rise and fall of its chest almost unnoticeable. It was dressed in a dark leather uniform, its coat bunched around its legs. Despite the leather being shiny with blood and matted with dirt, it was the richest she'd ever seen. It reduced her leader's clothing to gaudy rags. The shock-white hair hung about its face in disarray, much longer than her own. Like spider silk, she thought for no reason. At first she thought it was female because of this, but then noticed two elegant mustachios descending from its chin.
She took another step closer. A twig broke.
Vulpine eyes snapped open. Siha fought the urge to stumble back from the withering hate in them. The Wraith's rage was like a physical heat. If it weren't for the wire and claw-tooth, she knew the Wraith would've leapt up and torn her throat. Or worse, steal her life force.
"Release me," it said.
The Wraith's voice was a surprise. Though labored and edged with pain, it was oddly multilayered. A terrible hunger filled its undercurrent.
"Kay," she said.
The boy appeared besides her. His breathing was shallow and unsteady.
Does anybody else know about this? she gestured.
He shook his head. His throat worked. No. Only you, he signed back.
Both Siha and Kay jumped when a snarl burst from the Wraith. The snarls soon dissolved into winces and heavy swallowing. I'm so close I can smell its blood, she thought, almost giddy with exhilaration and fear. It made the young woman wonder why would Kay be here in the forbidden land between the two camps in first place. She knew the food shortages in the camp had been getting worse. Less food in her diminishing camp's range meant more excursions in enemy territory, and unless they wanted to forsake the safety of the forest and brave the wide expanses of Wraith cull zones, Siha's camp had to find a way to fight back. Siha knew in her heart the rival camp had a purpose to serve, and as she stared at the bound Wraith, an idea began to take shape.
Kay suddenly mimicked a bird's whistle. Hide!
Siha dove after Kay into the thick undergrowth. They had enough time to hide under a camouflage blanket from Kay's pack before hearing the rustle of approaching footsteps.
There were three of them: two boys, one girl. They moved with purpose, honing on the Wraith's location with unerring precision. This was no patrol party. They slashed errant ferns and bushes with short cudgels, smiling at each other. The Wraith stared straight ahead, breathing slow and labored. It erupted into terrible snarls when the girl began to whistle.
Siha cursed under her breath. How could I've been so blind, she thought. She should've noticed the distinct ring of trampled vegetation and footprints around the Wraith.
Grins spread across the trio's faces. The girl's whistling became cheerful as the snarls simmered to growls. The look the Wraith gave its tormentors could've stripped flesh off bone, but the girl only laughed, her voice beautiful. Without missing a beat she whirled her cudgel and brought it down on the Wraith's twitching, outstretched arm. The Wraith didn't scream as Siha expected, but blinked hard, grunting agonized hnnnnnnn's with every breath. It quivered and jerked, its free foot digging a furrow in the soil. The cudgels fell upon its legs, ribs, and hip. Only after audible cracks of breaking bones did the girl wave the others to stop.
When the Wraith's staggered breathing developed a wet rattle, pity didn't stir in Siha's chest. The race of Wraith sowed too much heartbreak and death for that. But it wasn't the Wraith who stole more and more of her camp's lands. And it certainly wasn't the Wraith who tortured her grandda and left his head as a gruesome warning to her camp. As Siha watched the three stand over the bound Wraith in a loose half-circle, it wasn't pity she felt, but frustration. She couldn't let these three ruin the fledging plan growing in her heart.
That Wraith could change everything.
There was no thinking. Siha shoved the blanket away, aimed, and shot the boy farthest left between the shoulders with her rapid-pistol. The recoil stung her hand. The boy fell like a poleaxed boar, stunned. The other two whirled around. The second boy reacted swiftest, pulling out his own version of Siha's hunting knife and throwing it at her. The throw was off-centre. It grazed her upper arm and left a burning gash, but Siha hardly felt it. Kay threw his own knife. His aim was truer and landed in the hard meat of the boy's upper thigh. She watched the boy fall with a grunt, clutching at his bleeding leg. She raised her rapid-pistol again, but the girl was already gone, tree branches swaying in her wake. Siha cursed. She didn't know why she didn't shoot the girl first; it'd been obvious she'd been the ringleader.
"Kay, stop him from screaming but don't kill him." She touched the spot where the knife had cut her arm, and when she drew her hand back, blood covered her fingertips.
There was little time before reinforcements from the other side came, and there was one chance to try her crazy idea. A part of her wished she had more time to step back and calculate, but a greater part whispered this was what she'd been waiting for since witnessing her grandda's grinning, decapitated head. As she stood in the centre of the bloodstained patch of no-man's land, she could feel the wind change. Her arm was of no consequence. Kay and the incapacitated boys from the rival camp faded in the unimportant background.
All what mattered was the Wraith and its answer to her question.
Once it was clear Kay would maintain lookout, Siha picked her way to the Wraith and crouched before its head. It was conscious enough to look at her. Runnels of black blood oozed down its neck. She could even see its exposed finger bones where the wire cut deep.
"If I free you," she said slowly, "would you kill me?"
"I am . . . dying," it said, more rasp than words. Its pupils were blown wide. "I must . . . feed."
"If I can provide you food, right now, would you still try to kill me?"
"Release and . . . feed me. Give . . . word . . . not touch you."
"What good is the word of a Wraith?" Siha asked, but she could see the creature was slipping. A glaze of agony clouded its face. The young woman gnawed on the inside of her cheek, caution warring again urgency.
"Your word?" she asked again.
The Wraith only hissed, blood bubbling between its translucent teeth. It made no other sign, its eyes fluttering shut.
It was now or never.
Siha made her choice. Her knife would prove useless for such a delicate job. She reached inside her pouch that held most of her woodcraft supplies and withdrew a simple pair of plier cutters. They were her grandda's.
"What are you doing?" Kay asked, but she ignored him.
It was too tight to find purchase around the neck. There was the barest space between the third finger and the throat, enough for the plier's jaws to get through. Whatever the Runner used was strong, but Siha's pliers were still sharp. As she touched the Wraith's jaw to stabilize herself, its skin came as a surprise. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but it was so much like a human's she almost recoiled. Cooler, maybe. And smooth, hairless. But not slimy or scaly as she'd imagined the creature's skin would feel like. She was close enough to smell the unpleasant tang of its blood. Beneath it was an odd, dry scent. Cobwebs, she thought for no reason. The Wraith's eyes remained closed, for which Siha was grateful.
After several efforts, the wire finally gave with a loud snip.
At first the Wraith didn't react, and a nauseating thrill raced up her spine. Was she too late?
Then it coughed, fingers twitching.
Siha finished pulling the wire away then retreated, controlling her urge to run. She went to where Kay was staring at the Wraith. He was so pale his freckles stood out against his cheeks. She pointed to the bleeding boy he'd knocked out.
"Help me carry him," she said.
The boy gave an aborted shake of his head, lips pressed in a white line. Siha strode close and clutched his upper arm. She leaned in and hissed, "Help me."
Kay stared at her as if she were a stranger. Siha softened both her tone and grip. "For me. Please."
Siha could feel him wilt beneath her fingers. He nodded once, but wouldn't meet her gaze. She let him go. The enemy boy moaned as they moved him. Siha didn't notice the dead weight or the pain in her arm. The boy in her arms was not longer a boy, but a key to a lock. When they reached the Wraith's side Kay instantly let go and backed away. Siha remained, crouching down.
At first she worried the Wraith had died in the time it'd taken to relocate the bleeding boy, but the inhuman eyes reopened, and her fear receded. A curious coldness stole over her as she watched the Wraith become aware of the unconscious human in degrees. Siha found she couldn't look away. With painful slowness the Wraith placed its feeding hand on the boy's chest. The boy jolted awake as if electrocuted. Siha slapped a hand over his mouth before his screams could alert both camps, his breath tickling her palm. She could actually hear his life be sucked out. Like someone slurping soup, she thought with hysteria. Her gorge rose as the body turned to freeze-dried leather beneath her fingertips, and she fought the urge to vomit. She swallowed hard.
When the boy was dead the Wraith released an explosive sigh and slumped, hand still on the desiccated chest. The young woman made sure she was out of its reach, wiping her hand on the seat of her pants.
After a moment the Wraith said, "The other. Bring him to me."
"What?"
"One is not enough to repair the damage," it said. "I need to feed again, and soon."
But already its voice was stronger, the wet rattle gone. The gaping wound at its throat no longer bled. Siha rocked back on her heels in an attempt to buy time to think, looking around. She guessed it would be awhile before the girl returned, if at all. It was clear the three hadn't told their camp about the downed Wraith. She'd have to explain to her crazy leader why she was in forbidden no-man's land to begin with, she thought. She smiled to herself, feeling no humor. Despite her complaints towards her own leader, Ehraha was notorious for being as hard-handed with his people as he was with his enemies. She studied the Wraith. Despite it no longer hovered death's door, the wound at its neck hadn't disappeared. Its legs were still broken. For her plan to work, she needed it alive and functional. Relax, she thought. You're still in control.
She avoided looking at the dead boy when she said to the Wraith, "If I save you, will you attack my friend and me?"
"Give me the other human and I won't need to."
Siha stared hard at it and molded her tone into iron. "If you attack or make any move to attack, we'll kill you."
The Wraith said nothing, its expression tight and closed. When she turned to Kay, he gesticulated with short, terse motions. What are you doing?
I've a plan. Just help me move the other one, she signed.
A muscle worked in his cheek as he looked away. But like the first boy, he helped move the one still stunned by Siha's rapid-pistol. The Wraith fed on him as well. When it was done it made the same sated sigh, almost shuddering. With slow movements it made a fist with its previously broken hand. It flexed its fingers. Siha backed to a safer distance while it was still testing its appendages.
"We need to get the other trap from your leg," she said. Unlike the wire, the claw-tooth would be much harder to remove. Not only that, both the Wraith's hands were free. It could easily grab her while she was—
The Wraith sat up and twisted its torso to access the trap. Metal snapped as it broke the locking mechanism and pulled the jaws away from its leg like a gristly magician's trick. It wrenched the anchoring peg up and tossed the whole mangled contraption away with a snarl, all while still sitting down. Siha watched as she crouched, marveling. She knew the stories spoke of their monstrous strength, but it was another thing entirely to see in person. The Wraith's build was far leaner than what what she'd normally equate to physical power. It was a good lesson. I mustn't forget its capabilities, she thought. I mustn't lose control.
The Wraith leaned against the moss-covered trunk of the tree, catching its its face no longer pressed in the dirt, she now saw its features were narrow and masculine, the greenish skin stretched tight over sharp cheekbones. The wire wound on its neck was fully closed, though the flesh was a spidery mess of bruises. A dark tattoo swirled around its left eye and brow. She dared not call the Wraith handsome, not even in the safety of her own mind, but there was something alluring about it. This struck Siha as unnatural. Monsters were supposed to be monstrous, not quasi-attractive. She then noticed it watching her, measuring. Her skin crawled with an unidentifiable emotion. The Wraith cocked its head and the perverse image of a bird searching for worms came to her.
When the silence stretched uncomfortably long—even the birds were quiet—she got up from her crouch and went to Kay's side, her legs numb and tingling.
We need to hide it. Do you know a place nearby? she gestured.
Kay was shorter than her by a foot, but he still managed to stare at her in a way that made her feel small. The boy was no coward, but she saw he was near his limit. One wrong move and he would fly away like a wild bird.
"Kay. Please."
He must've heard something in her voice. Kay didn't run. But neither did he acquiesce.
What are you doing, he signaled. We need to get out of here.
"But whoever comes will kill it," she said aloud. "I want—" It alive. That's what she was going to say.
"Isn't that the point?" Kay said, running a hair through his blonde hair. He didn't seem to notice her aborted sentence.
"Will you do this last thing for me? Then we leave. I promise. I won't involve you anymore."
"Involve me in what? Siha, you're not making any sense."
"Will you do it?" she pressed, crowding his space. They were close enough to kiss. Kay shifted on his heels, throat working.
"This is dangerous," he said. She could smell the apple he'd eaten for breakfast. "It just killed two people. It could do the same to us."
"I won't let that happen." She shook his shoulder, but kept her grip gentle. Comforting. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it would pound out of her chest. "Just show me where to hide it. That's it. Then we go back."
Kay pressed his lips together into thin lines. He looked away first, jaw working. When he gave one terse nod, she allowed herself to squeeze his shoulder for a second. She took a breath, steeled herself, then returned to where the Wraith was still leaning against the tree. It tracked her approach as an owl watched a mouse.
Siha crouched down so they were about eye-level. She kept one hand within her vest, finger on her rapid-pistol's trigger.
"What's your name?" she asked.
The Wraith's eyes narrowed. It didn't respond.
"More humans will come," she tried again. "You need a place to hide. We . . . I can help you."
It continued to stare at her.
Siha wet her lips. "I bet you want revenge on the humans who did this to you. I can help you with that too."
"Help me?" Its multilayered voice was the smoothest yet, carrying a dangerous note she hadn't noticed before. It wrinkled its nose in a sneer. "How can you help me?"
"I know the forest," she said, heart pounding. Cold sweat ran down the valley of her spine. "I can lead patrols to you. No other Wraith have eaten the humans here in living memory. The forest is too dense, too protected. You could become a legend."
At first Siha thought she'd gone too far with her last comment, and cursed herself as the Wraith suddenly turned shrewd and quiet.
"I don't care for your legends," it said at last. "All I want is to feed on that female."
"Then let me help you," Siha said.
"Why." It narrowed its eyes further. "Why would a human go against its own kind?"
"Those who hurt you hurt me as well. As far as I'm concerned, they're not my own kind."
When it didn't respond again, she added, "I want those humans gone too. You need to eat. If we help each other, we can both have the same thing."
It tilted its head again in a decidedly predatory way. "Ohhhhh?" it said, drawing out the word. Siha tried not to flush. "And if I disagree?"
"Then I kill you."
It snorted. "Really."
She leveled her rapid-pistol at it, still out of reach. "You sure about that?"
"It would take many hits to slow me down," it said, bared teeth gleaming. "By then I would reach you."
"If you were at full strength I'd believe you," the young woman said, keeping her voice steady. "But I bet you're still hurt, more hurt than you're willing to let on. If I leave you now, the same humans who did this to you will find you, and this time they'll kill you. Or maybe they'll tie you up and let you starve to death."
At the word starve the Wraith's entire body tensed, hands twitching into fists. Its mocking demeanor vanished as it focused on her as if she was the last human in existence. The hairs on her neck rose. She struggled to keep her expression level.
"Very well," it said, slowly, turning each word over in its mouth. "I will accept your offer."
"Alright," she said. Inside, she was flying.
Kay led them deeper into no-man's land. The Wraith walked with a heavy, pronounced limp, moving slower than most elderly of the camp. It must've been nearly dead if killing two boys wasn't enough to heal all its injuries. Siha danced in the privacy of her mind, thanking all the Ancestors her bluff had been correct.
Siha had never been in the forbidden region before, but it was obvious Kay had. He led them to a medium-sized river as if he'd made the trip a thousand times before, stopping on the rocky beach. There were no trees, granting Siha a rare view of the sky. The morning had turned low and gray without her noticing and she pulled her jacket in tighter, hunching her shoulders both at the chill and at the openness. She couldn't imagine living on a world without the thick, protective blanket of the forest. She knew other outside camps wanted access to the haven, but her people stopped every attempt. Rarely was a foreigner allowed to remain: there simply wasn't enough space to share the sanctuary.
And now the forest becomes stripped bare, Siha thought. We must eat.
Kay pointed out a shallow indent of a cave. It was easy to miss. The young woman surveyed the surroundings with a conspirator's eye, nodding: the rocks would hide any footprints, the water would cover any scent, and the cave was deep enough to hide at least two adults. Unless there were others who braved the penalty of death, the Wraith would be hidden from either camp. Or if the camp leaders met for discussion, she thought. She smiled. Fhuhu and Ehraha hated each other.
The Wraith stumbled over the rocks with agonizing slowness, hissing. Though Siha kept a healthy distance away, she could hear its labored breathing.
She pointed to the cave. "You'll stay here."
Its upper lip twitched as it studied the hole, but otherwise made no comment. Before hobbling inside it pinned her with a look. "I must feed within four days," it said.
Siha didn't like its foreboding tone, but nodded. Four days. I have four days to capture another of my enemies, she thought. Instead of feeling a crushing weight, she felt alive with purpose. The haze she'd been living in since her grandda's death was dissipating.
Four days.
Siha and Kay left the Wraith by the river. The moment they left the rocks she saw how clumsy the creature had been; a blind worm could follow its trail. She sighed. But instead of leaving as she'd expect him to, Kay stayed to help her hide the traces. They work in tense silence, discomfort radiating off him. They moved cautiously when they reached where the Wraith had been, but there was no sign of enemy patrols. Siha hoped the girl had kept her mouth shut. They carried nothing to bury the bodies, so they covered them up beneath mounds of dead needles and ferns. They finished their gristly duty in silence.
"Whatever you're planning, I want no part of it," Kay said, his first words since she asked him to hide the Wraith. He still wouldn't make eye contact with her.
"That's fine." Her mind were miles away, thinking of the next step. Four days. How would she do it?
"Any sane person should've killed the Wraith if they had the chance."
"Guess I'm not sane," Siha quipped, but at his contemplative silence, she saw he thought her serious. Fear rushed through her. "Will you tell anyone about this?"
"I should," he said, his tone accusatory.
She waited, guts churning, trying to school her face into calmness. "Why did you tell only me, then? Why didn't you go to Fhuhu?"
"And tell him I was in no-man's land? No thanks," he said dryly. He fiddled with a twig. "I thought you'd know what to do."
"You think what I did was wrong?"
"It's a Wraith," he said, turning to face her for the first time. "You saw what it did, what it can do. Why are you saving it?"
"I have an idea."
"Idea? What idea could possibly be good enough to involve a Wraith?"
Siha wiped her mouth. "Kay, how long do you think our camp is going to last the way it is? Honestly. Because I think Ehraha's people are coming soon, and when they do, we're going to be pushed out of the forest and left as Wraith fodder. Do you want that?"
When Kay didn't answer, she said, "I think that Wraith is the key to stopping Ehraha and saving our camp."
The boy didn't look at her again for the rest of the trek back to the camp, but Siha didn't notice. Her mind was by the river, and the creature which hid there.
….
TBC