“Hit me,” Mariel commanded, her voice cutting through the damp forest air.

  Wallis flinched. “But you’ll just hit me back!”

  Mariel didn’t answer. In a fluid motion, she dropped into a low stance, one fist balancing her near the mossy ground. Her other hand shot out like a serpent from beneath her own defensive guard, seizing Wallis' wrist. With an elegant, powerful twirl, Mariel swept Wallis' legs out from under her, driving her to her knees. Before the victim could even register the fall, her arm was wrenched behind her back, held fast in an unbreakable lock.

  “I could sever your arm right now,” Mariel said, “or you could walk away without a scratch.”

  Wallis strained, her breath catching. “I can if you let me go!”

  “Then go,” Mariel challenged, her grip unyielding. “I won’t lift a finger. Just try to escape.”

  A surge of desperate survival instinct flared in Wallis. She slammed her free hand onto the forest floor for leverage, twisting her torso violently against the lock. She planted her feet, digging into the slick earth, her muscles screaming as she pulled at her hand with every ounce of strength she possessed. Her worn clothes clung to her, hindering every movement.

  She might as well have been pulling against a mountain. Mariel’s grip was absolute. Then, without warning, she released Wallis' arm. Wallis stumbled backward, sprawling onto the ground. “Do it like that, and you’ll be the one severing your own arm.”

  Wallis hit the ground hard, a cry of pain and frustration escaping her lips as she untangled her limbs. Mariel watched her, a hint of disdain in her eyes. “You have no muscle.”

  Wallis stared up, bewildered. “I do!”

  Mariel strode over, hauling the girl to her feet by her arms, shaking her head. “Not enough to support movements with Nevas.”

  “And you can’t protect your arm,” Tenny drawled from where he leaned against a massive, gnarled tree trunk.

  “How am I supposed to learn all that in a single day?” Wallis demanded, finally steady on her feet.

  “You’ll learn over time, not just today, or you won’t be a guardian,” Mariel said, her gaze like ice. “You have to be ready for us.”

  Wallis brushed mud from her clothes, a nervous frown creasing her brow. “Ready for you? Are you going to attack me?”

  The huge-eyed Nevarid issued a series of complex clicks that resolved into a chuckle, freezing Wallis where she stood. “No. You must be ready to protect your team.”

  The voice was an acoustic anomaly. It sounded as if words were being constructed from the internal stretching of resonant organs, a muffled, percussive language that was less spoken and more composed, like musical notes arranged into speech. Yet, despite its strange origin, it was piercingly clear. The hairs on Wallis' neck rose as her mind struggled to reconcile the impossible sounds with the coherent words she was hearing.

  Berock pinched the bridge of his nose. “Our team isn’t full yet,” he said, gesturing with a thumb toward Mariel and a finger to the Nevarid. “They meant when the others arrive. The new ones.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Others,” Wallis echoed, her eyes darting nervously to the creature. “If the task is so critical, why recruit amateurs? And what are these treasures you’re supposed to be guarding?” She eyed the four alien creatures, now clustered together like a strange council.

  “We guard lands,” Rono said. “What is humanity, if not rooted?”

  The girl scoffed, an eyebrow arched. “Lands? Are you serious? Humans sail oceans for fun. They’re not ‘nothing’ without dirt under their feet.”

  “Waters are dangerous now,” the creature with the stark black and white hide hissed—but the r's did not hiss. They unfurled into a deep, feline wail that echoed through the undergrowth, then snapped back into speech. “They weren't, before. But now it is. And they don’t know. All because of them.”

  A shiver traced a cold path down Wallis' spine as she suppressed a cry of her own. The unsightly fissure could only warn of such an imminent prospect with the alien timbre of the abomination's voice. “Then why are you guarding land with human hosts?”

  “Enough questions,” the zebra-striped Nevarid said. Its body tensed, a predator’s coiled spring. “You will know what is required, when it is required.”

  “So you just want to screw humans over? With humans?” Wallis' voice rose. “Why have I been dragged into this? You could have picked trained murderers instead of a kid!”

  “Knowledge is not a prerequisite for selection! Compliance is!” The abomination’s own voice rose like a sharp staccato. “Understand this! You are meant to possess the finest of minds, being!”

  “You’re all insane!” Wallis shrieked, stumbling back.

  “Now, now. Calm yourselves, both of you,” Rono murmured, a tentacle snaking out and gently, but firmly, covering Wallis' mouth, making her stumble back more. “Let’s not lose our patience. We have quite the journey ahead.”

  “Hm, I see why you’re the way you are, Rono,” Tenny mused, nodding thoughtfully.

  Mariel smacked Tenny’s back. “Will you shut up? It’s too early for your philosophy.”

  “I barely said anything!” Tenny protested, rubbing his shoulder.

  When Rono finally retracted the tentacle, Wallis gasped, sucking in a deep, shuddering breath of the damp forest air. She looked at them silently, a hint of loathing in her eyes.

  “You want us to be murderers, then?” she managed, her voice raw.

  “Yep, they do,” Tenny confirmed, a mocking glint in his eye as he scratched his nose, glancing at the striped Nevarid.

  ‘Twisted… They’re all... twisted…’

  “Hah. Well, welcome to the team, Wallis,” Berock shrugged, smiling.

  “That… That’s it?”

  “Yeah.”

  She stared blankly as profound worry settled.

  “Some team…”

  “You may go home now,” the huge-eyed Nevarid said to her, his colossal eyes unblinking.

  The abomination with the stark black and white hide shifted. “Why send her away?”

  “Because her fear is a liability,” Rono’s voice explained as his form began to dissipate into shimmering black motes. “She’s being watched.”

  ***

  Tenny kicked a small rock, sending it skittering across the muddy ground. “Seriously?” He stared at the remaining three Nevarids. “Have you all given up or what?”

  “When a path is blocked, you do not keep walking into the wall,” Blomytus’ muffled voice replied. “You find another way. The last resort is for the end of things, Tenny.”