Chapter 19: 19: The Man-Eating Margay

Ember groaned, peeling herself up from the dirt path and pulling Naz to her feet. Another set of chirps resonated between the trees, punctuated at the end by the sound of Carn crashing through the underbrush. Naz scooped their lantern from the ground and lit a match, bringing it to life again. The flickering light illuminated her wide, fear-filled eyes and the line of blood that dripped from her split lip down to her chin. 

“What should we do?” she whispered in a choked voice. 

“We need to get help,” Ember answered grimly.

The two turned away from the woods just as a guttural, blood-curdling scream split the air. “That’s Carn!” Naz gasped, and before Ember could stop her, she took off in the direction of the sound.

“Shit!” Ember cursed, rushing to catch up. Naz pushed forward, sprinting with the lantern swinging wildly in her grasp. “We… can’t… beat… the rogue!” Ember panted. “We… need… help!”

“There’s no time!” Naz snapped back. Despite her small stature, she was quick as a jackrabbit, and it was all Ember could do just to keep up. Bushes and low-hanging brushes slashed at their legs, tearing at their pants and slapping against the newly exposed skin. 

A second scream sounded between the massive trees, this time much closer. Naz turned sharply, almost losing Ember. She zig-zagged over roots and fallen limbs, pinpointing Carn’s location with each noise. 

Without warning, the young women skidded into a clearing, stumbling over each other in their efforts to stop. The dim light of the lantern revealed the scene in segments. First was Carn, hunched over two their right with his ears flat against his head and his teeth bared. Dark blood gushed from a wound near his shoulder, splattering on the bed of leaves beneath his feet. A lean creature stalked opposite him, unmistakably feline with a speckled coat and a long, rod-like tail.

The rogue turned, locking eyes with Ember. He wore no clothes, though most of his body was covered in patchy fur. His mutations, left untreated, were distinctly disturbing: his head was almost entirely that of a cat, complete with massive, void-like eyes. In another setting, his small ears and nose might have been endearing, but at that moment they were horrifyingly spectral and macabre. 

He licked his jowls, revealing inch-long canines. “I wondered who was coming,” he mused. “A pisces and a reptile, how astonishing.”

“Get out of here,” Carn panted, gripping the wound on his shoulder. “He’s strong.”

Naz pulled the karambit from its sheath, holding it out by her thigh as she prepared for an attack. The fins at her forearms sprang outwards, forming blade-like semicircles.

In the blink of an eye, the rogue darted across the clearing, a move so jarring that Ember nearly missed it entirely. He maneuvered himself behind Carn, gripping him by the back of the neck and wrenching his body  upward.

“If anyone moves,” he said through his teeth, “I’ll sever his skull from his spine.”

Carn whimpered, scrambling against the cat’s body in a weak effort to take the pressure away from his neck. Paying him no heed, the rogue began to walk toward the nearest tree, holding the fox against his front and letting his legs drag across the forest floor. 

Ember’s chest constricted as she watched the grisly scene. She recognized the rogue’s threat for what it was: meaningless since he would kill Carn whether or not they tried to stop him. We can’t let him climb that tree… we have to bide more time. 

She sprung forward without another thought, throwing herself against the rogue’s back. He twisted around at the last moment, but Carn’s body slowed his reaction time. His grip on the fox loosened, and Naz took advantage of the opening, darting forward and sinking the karambit into the flesh near his hip.

The feline let out an ear-splitting yowl, shaking his body with enough force to send Ember and Naz flying into the dirt. He re-tightened his grip on Carn and shot up the tree, leaving the karambit lodged in place.

“Shit,” Ember muttered. Even carrying Carn, the rogue was able to climb vertically with as much agility as a squirrel or monkey.  

Ignoring her injuries, she leaped to her feet and approached the tree, a massive oak whose first branches jutted out from the trunk at least twenty-five feet above the forest floor. She touched the bark, wondering if she should—or even could—make the climb. Near her feet, Naz let out a groan and sat up. 

Will we forgive ourselves if we do nothing? 

Ember swallowed. “Naz, run as fast as you can and get help. I’m going up.”

The two locked eyes, and Naz pressed the glass vial—the only defense they’d prepared—into her hand. “Please be careful.”

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Ember stared upward at the tree, her body shaking with white-hot adrenaline. This time, there was no ladder and no safety line; if she fell or had to face the rogue in mid-air, there was no chance that she would survive. There were no real handholds, but the trunk itself was made up of thick grooves just narrow enough to grasp. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hands on the bark, letting it cut into her skin. 

Her own body weight was a heavy burden as she scaled the tree. She clawed her way up bit by bit, resting for only a moment at each burl and hollow. The rogue had disappeared with Carn into the first cluster of branches, where the faint sounds of a struggle gave Ember hope that he still lived.

Run fast, Naz, she prayed as her limbs burned. Blood dripped down her wrist, though she felt nothing. 

It was nearly five minutes before she reached the first cluster of branches, by which time the rogue had fallen disturbingly quiet. She climbed onto the first limb carefully, smothering her gasps for breath as they pushed at her throat. 

The air was still and lifeless, and without the lantern, it was too dark to see more than a yard in either direction. Stars danced in Ember’s eyes, and she clamped her eyes shut, staving off unconsciousness. I have to find them… I must…

Her head throbbed. She pressed herself closer to the tree, beginning to despair for Carn and for herself. Then, inexplicably, something began to take shape deep within her mind. She saw—not with her eyes, but with a new channel—a blob-like mass forming in the branches just five feet above. Like a beacon, it glowed yellow and red as it pulsed with heat.

Ember’s eyes sprung open. There they are. With newfound energy, she climbed as stealthily as possible to the fork where the rogue had dragged Carn. She pulled herself up so that she was even with them, and slowly, she skirted the trunk.

She caught sight of the rogue when he was only four feet away. He looked up from licking his wound almost leisurely as if he had sensed her presence long before. He was perched atop a wide branch, and at his side was Carn, tucked against the side of the tree like a limp doll. Without taking her eyes off of the rogue, Ember took in her friend’s dismal condition: his head was a bloody mess, and it wasn’t clear at first if he was breathing.

“I’m impressed,” the rogue said, creeping slowly to his feet. “I didn’t expect to find someone like you here.” Ember gritted her teeth, saying nothing. The creature tilted his head, looking her over with a penetrating stare. “It’s too bad you don’t know what you are.”

“Go to hell,” Ember hissed, refusing to take the bait. The rogue threw his head back and laughed, an action as disconcerting as it was unnatural in his cat-like body. He stepped forward on all fours and leaned toward Ember. Her whole body trembled, but she held her ground, refusing to drop his gaze. In her peripheral vision, next to Carn, the blood-stained karambit glinted in the low light.

Her chances, however slim, would hinge on the rogue’s disdain for her. Closer… come closer. He pounced, and Ember let him grab her by the arm, his razor-sharp teeth biting through her flesh like needles. Her back hit the trunk with a thump, knocking the wind from her lungs. The rogue tightened his jaw, sending waves of pain through her body, strong enough to make her cry out. 

Now!

With her free hand, she yanked the vial from her pocket and popped off the cap. Even through the pain, she held her hand steady, inverting the vial and pouring the liquid over the rogue’s head. 

The feline shrieked and released Ember’s arm as the liquid gushed into his eyes and mouth. He backed up, clawing at his face. Ember scrambled to her feet, jumping to where Carn’s body rested at the fork of the branches. Without taking her eyes off of the rogue, she felt behind her for the handle of the karambit and grabbed it with two hands.

The rogue stumbled backward over a wide branch, putting distance between him and Ember. “What did you do?” he sputtered. 

Her heart thumped frantically against her chest as she approached. As much as she wanted to curl up next to Carn, she knew that she had a small window before the rogue regained his vision— the only time that they would be on equal footing. 

Blindly, the feline slashed at her. She dodged at the last moment, wind-milling her arms to regain her balance. The ground swelled up beneath her, fuzzy in the darkness. She grabbed a nearby branch with one hand and kicked at the rogue’s face, disorienting him. 

For the next minute, Ember and the feline were locked in a desperate struggle. Bit by bit, they neared the end of the branch, hitting each other with haphazard, glancing blows. The rogue was more comfortable on the thinning limb, but he could not find another place to jump without the use of his eyes. Both Linnaeans were bleeding profusely, but Ember knew that the cat would outlast her in a battle of stamina.

Grabbing the branch above her head for support, Ember bent her knees and jounced the limb that they were standing on with all of her strength. It bobbed up and down like a cork in water, threatening to dislodge them both. One of the rogue’s back legs slipped out from underneath him, and at the same time, Ember stabbed at his face with the karambit. She missed, and the tip embedded itself in the wood, throwing her off balance. 

For a moment, both she and the rogue fought to keep their footing. Then, using the knife as an anchor, Ember managed to recover just a second before the cat. She ripped the knife from the wood, slashing at his face over and over. 

He dodged the first strikes wildly, but, finally, one met the flesh just below his ear. He reared back as a shower of blood sprayed them both. His other back leg slipped, and in a haze of pain, he toppled to one side, hanging from the branch just by his front paws. 

Before he could regain his senses, Ember slashed at his right paw with all of her force, cutting it clean off. He fell from the branch with a look of sheer shock, plummeting to the ground below.

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