kind of double-headed spear.
It was like watching bubbles merging. The Danan warriors at the forefront of the group reached us and formed a bigger circle around us. One Danan, someone I didn’t know, threw me one of the spears. I grabbed it, glad to have some way of defending myself. Cowering was not how I wanted to die.
Something inside me raced up to feed that need. Something innately powerful, and far stronger than anything I’d ever felt before. Maybe it was the connection to my pod. Maybe it was a part of me that had never had a chance to stretch its wings before. But whatever it was, it felt good. Really good.
As the rest raced to join us, I found myself surrounded by women, including the Victims. I couldn’t believe they were here and willing to fight with us. Even though my pod had told me they’d joined the crew to come in search of me, the fact they’d chosen to fight these monsters for us, and possibly die for us, made my heart soar.
I grinned crazily at them, making eye contact where I could. They grinned back at me, just as madly. There was exhilaration mixed with fear and determination in those grins.
This was what we’d all needed, I realized, as I began to swipe at the Vargeez’ underbellies overhead. We all needed a chance to fight back. When we’d been rescued we’d been left as victims. Not even the deaths of the renegades had changed that for us. But this… this chance to fight… this is what we all needed to exorcise our demons.
I took a few spare seconds to watch the way the women whirled their spear-tipped staffs. The windmill motions were elegant and extremely effective. They made an excellent back-up for the Danans who faced out from the circle.
Could I swing my spear as they did? I tried and quickly failed. Obviously, it was an acquired skill. Instead, I resorted to poking up into the bellies of the Vargeez as they flew overhead. The extra six feet of arm length I gained was just right, allowing me to reach one Vargeez after another. I was perfectly placed to get the ones my pod missed, as the creatures finished their dives and attempted to swoop higher for another try.
The only trouble was, I was quickly being covered by raining blood and guts. It got in my eyes and mouth. Even up my nose. At one point, I felt like I was going to suffocate from it. At least I had become immune to the stench.
Euphoria had given way quickly to the cold-reality of the fight. It was like being stuck in an endless loop. The flow of bodies coming at us from above seemed to go on and on forever. Every so often the call would go up and we’d clamber over the fallen Vargeez to a clearer space. Then we’d start making more piles of bloody fur and leather.
And still they came.
My body hadn’t known pain and fatigue until this moment. Even the struggle up the cliff had been nothing compared with this slog. My arms ached from holding the spear. My neck and shoulders ached from craning my head back to look up at my enemies. And my mind was in anguish, worrying whether the next wave would end the lives of my beloved podmates.
They couldn’t be as effective as the newcomers. They were young with barely any experience or training. They’d been running all day on very little sleep and been forced to carry two heavy loads. If any Danans fell this day it would have to be one of mine. Or more than one.
What about Charsus/Rian? Sure, they’d have more energy, given that they’d been carried most of the way. But the Theran’s body was not designed for fighting. It didn’t have much muscle tone, for one thing. And though Rian had used his new body well last night, he had become exhausted far faster than his Danan counterparts.
‘There are less of them now. We’re getting to the end,’ Charsus said, trying to reassure me.
His focus wasn’t required for the actual cut and thrust of the battle, which allowed him to get a better impression of our progress. But would he tell me if we were really losing?
I’d seen at least one Danan fall, and Summer had been picked up and carried away from right out of the center of our circle. It made me sick to my stomach to imagine what