Silence gripped the village as Elder Belractu and Moyaud examined those caught in the light during the feast. Eight lives were lost, with bodies shriveled found in their tents. Almost four dozen villagers sat in the center, away from the others. Some bore white streaks in their hair, whether young or old. Dawn grew brighter as many waited for their loved ones, many praying harder than ever. As Cuganwa sat with his sister sleeping in his lap, whispers of the witch passed through many lips. A woman running toward the center and strange beings coming from the earth before turning into blue flames repeated on their breath. Both the young hunter and his sibling were with their friends during the incident but were blinded after hearing the shriek. ‘Lord Kelvert, what has happened?’ the boy questioned as he felt his stomach turn. The strange hum returned during the night. Cuganwa ignored it, thinking it was just from the drink he switched with an older villager with curious hands.

  Gamaunda approached the elders at work, speaking to one another before walking toward the other villagers. “Everyone, a tragedy has befallen some of our kin during the night. By the Great Lord’s will, only so many were harmed as others fell, but still live. We don’t know what happened, but we will need everyone to watch for clues or odd natures. Remain where you are until the guards release you. We will find answers,” the chief finished before walking off to a handful of his men.

  “What do you mean we don’t know what happened? Such a thing could only be the witch,” someone complained. Cuganwa looked to the side to find Deyunca glaring at the chief and others. His stare hardened, and his breathing was heavy. A shiver ran down the boy’s spine as he looked away. From the corner of his eye, he could see the odd hunter rush off but did not dare look his way.

  ‘I don’t like him,’ Cuganwa thought to himself.

  “Cuganwa!” another voice called. The boy looked to his side, seeing Odaru and Sutama waving for him to approach. Cuganwa rose, carrying his sister. “I am glad you are both safe.”

  “Hello, father. Hello, Odaru. Where is Mother?” the boy questioned as his father ran a hand through his afro and Caluu’s hair, making the drowsy child stir only to turn her head in the other direction. Sutama smiled for a moment before straightening himself and wearing the same focused expression as when they hunted.

  “Your mother’s home but, we have work to do. Take Caluu back. We’re helping the guards secure the village, then we’re going to hunt with Lamoy’s party,” Sutama said. “Supplies are still short.”

  Cuganwa nodded and moved to head back only to find his mother to be standing behind him as well with a glare. “He’ll be staying home too,” Jogia said. This took everyone aback. Odaru turned and hobbled away in his splint and aid from a walking cane.

  “Jogia, this is not the time. We need all the hunters we can get,” Sutama said.

  “I must help, mother. This is my task too,” Cuganwa added.

  “No. This is getting dangerous. That stunt of yours was crazy enough. I’m not having you out there with the witch and spirits about. Be a guard,” the woman said as she reached for the knife. Cuganwa’s brow furrowed as he blocked her hand and lowered Caluu to stand on her own.

  “Mother, I have to help. It’s my station to do so. Otherwise, not even the guard would accept me. I won’t cower when everyone else is working,” Cuganwa said as he looked down at his sister. “Caluu, you must go with mother. I have work to do.”

  Jogia’s eyes welled as she clasped her hands together. Sutama stepped forward, placing hands on her shoulders. In a soft tone, he spoke, “We must do this, Jogia. The lives of everyone depend on our efforts. The storms are coming, my love.” Jogia nodded her head and lowered it as if a sign of acceptance. Sutama kissed the woman’s brow before she and Caluu walked off. Sutama sighed before turning around and waving for Odaru and Cuganwa to follow.

  A moment later, the hunters gathered along with dozens of guards before the chief. Gamaunda instructed several parties to search each home for the witch. A tent pole had broken, felling the side in the night, adding suspicion of her hiding. Cuganwa caught a glimpse of Deyunca. The man’s gaze, almost trance-like, was fixated on something before him. His jaw was clenched tight as they waited. From enraged to stone-faced, Cuganwa moved, only feeling more uneased by the man. Everyone departed to follow their instructions. Cuganwa moved with several of the other hunters to clear the homes within the southeastern portion of the village. Between checking each home and returning to his father, the boy grew exhausted, running each way. Though he searched for the witch, Cuganwa kept a cautious eye out for Deyunca. His fingers fidgeted.

  Cuganwa stopped once he passed a few personal totems built beside the tents. He froze in place, seeing Deyunca standing over a fallen guard with his hand placed over a bloody wound in the man’s neck.

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  “Run,” Cuganwa’s mind whispered in a sharp, echoing chirp.

  “What?” the boy questioned, drawing the hunter’s attention.

  “Get help! He’s been cut, boy!” Deyunca roared. Returning to his senses, Cuganwa did as he was told, running to the first guard about the slain man.

  The guard, in turn, went to three others. Within moments, they were informed of the situation and broke off from each other for different tasks. One left to guard Deyunca and help stop the bleeding, another went to retrieve the chief, the third for Elder Yanuma, and the final guard Cuganwa followed, heading to Elder Belractu, who was resting in the village center. The other quarantined villagers moved at ease, while Elder Moyaud examined them again, checking their spirits. When the two approached, the guard pushed Cuganwa forward as Belractu glared at the child.

  “And what news brings you two here?” the elder questioned.

  “A guard is bleeding from his neck. He needs healing, dear elder,” Cuganwa spat out, breathing heavily.

  “Take me there,” the elder said plainly as he shot up from his seat, maintaining his aloof expression.

  Sweat poured from Cuganwa’s head as he tore through the village leading the elder back to the eastern side. His lungs burned, and his heart hammered louder than his run through the death snare. A dull hum sat at the center of his stomach once more. Beneath the skin and muscle, it continued without a true, recognizable source. ‘Why does this continue to happen?’ the boy asked himself only to reach the area with six other guards, the chief, and Elder Yanuma present. Deyunca stood on the sides as another guard pressed wet chunks of herbs into the cut, slowly clotting the wound.

  “Move!” Elder Belractu barked with a voice greater than his small frame expressed. The man sprinted past Cuganwa and the village guard toward the fallen man. The man aiding the wounded rose in a rush as Belractu slid in place and pressed his hand onto the wound. His ring’s gem glowed with a violet trembling gleam, matching the soft hum the boy felt in his abdomen. “Water. Now.” Three of the guards produced their water skins. The elder snatched one free and poured it into the cut, washing away some of the herbs. Elder Belractu then stuck a finger into the wound itself as the ring grew brighter. The humming grew stronger.

  The boy then looked to Elder Yanuma, who gave a small nod. Cuganwa did not know what to do as his rasping breaths prevented any speaking. Her eyes lit up a moment as she let out a short chuckle.

  “Crafty, child,” she muttered before returning a glance to Gamaunda, who rubbed his beard, watching the elder. “Grab Deyunca,” she ordered casually. The hunter broke his calm fa?ade, looking bewildered at the elder as two guards lunged for him. Deyunca tried to fight only to find his efforts failing as the guards easily seized his arms and forced him to kneel. Elder Belractu narrowed his eyes at the man before walking off. Yanuma sighed as she shook her head. “Madness curses some in life. I wish some could be better.”

  Cuganwa was wild-eyed. A hand then rested on his back. The boy turned to find Sutama there wearing a solemn expression. “Father? What’s happening?”

  “Penance, boy,” the hunter answered. “Boldness breeds opportunity for greatness and foolish acts.”

  “Tell us your story once more, Deyunca,” Gamaunda said.

  “Fools! The witch pounced on us from the tent side and ran off! She still lurks in the village! The edge broke off when she ran!” the man declared as he looked to the broken ground.

  “Yet we believe otherwise,” the chief replied.

  “The fool is you, Deyunca,” Elder Yanuma said as she crouched before him. “I see more than you will ever understand. It’s also easy for me to see treachery as blatant as yours. You are not clever. Just a grieving fool.”

  “Elder, the witch is the culprit!” the hunter proclaimed.

  “Where is your hunter’s knife?” the elder asked. The hunter went quiet. His jaw quivered. The elder then reached forward, patting his crotch. “I’ve never known a man to have such a shape.” Deyunca’s eyes flared, and he attempted to spit. The elder seized his nose, forcing him to cough. “Kill him.” The elder moved away, replaced by Gamaunda.

  “You’d kill me before finding that demon? Before things are put right?” Deyunca wheezed.

  “We leave demons at the gate. One made it in,” Gamaunda corrected. Cuganwa shook as he saw the strange stone of his bracelet float. A flat, silver stick rose from the stone.

  “Wha…” the boy uttered. Its surface was smoother than polished ivory by even the best craftsmen and gleamed in the early morning sun as it reflected the area around it. It bared a curved point at the top and was longer than Gamaunda’s arm. The crystal was fixed at the end of the curved handle, wrapping around the hand. ‘What is that?’ the boy questioned. Before he could utter a single word, the chief sunk the weapon through the man’s chest. Blood dampened the man’s tunic and streamed from his mouth as his eyes grew pleading.

  “You tried to take one of my men and think I wouldn’t take you? That hurt, Deyunca. May your spirit return untainted,” the chief said.

  Cuganwa’s body trembled, and he quickly turned away. Sutama kept his hand on his shoulder. “I know, Cuganwa. But remember the reason we have this role. We served the village. The guards protect it. This isn’t a place for selfish gains,” Sutama said. His father then turned him toward the others.

  The chief had removed the strange blade and cleaned the blood with his sleeve. Gamaunda walked toward Cuganwa and his father while flicking his wrist. The blade sank into the small crystal and returned to his bracelet. ‘How is that possible? What kind of blade is that?’ the boy questioned.

  “There are many gifts Lord Kelvert has given us, young hunter,” the man said with a pained smile. “Some don’t truly appreciate the things we are given. This only destroys order. Now get ready for your hunt.” Gamaunda placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder before turning and leading the elder and his men away as they carried Deyunca with them.

  ‘Keeping order, more important than revenge. What else must I learn?’ the boy questioned.