Laughing at myself.

Gee no one pointed out that I used pedals instead of petals lol.  :)  You can all poke fun at me.  I can take it. lol

Very unedited chapter 4

I can't resist putting these up. lol

4

The demon’s mount howled again.  With each new cry the demon drew nearer to Flit’s position.  Flit glanced at the fallen petal lying at his feet and marched as fast as his back would allow away from it. 

He struggled to keep silent, wincing with each step.  He hurried up a small slope with a stand of trees.  He managed to reach the top and duck into the trees when the demon and its hideous companion emerged out of the forest right where the petal remained.

The demon’s head swiveled back and forth its flaming red eyes scanning the surrounding forest while its mount sniffed the ground all around the wilted petal.  Small dust clouds floated around the beasts head as it huffed with its nose stuck to the ground. 

A small group of armed malos emerged from the village, drawn by the unexplained disturbance.  The held their spears and swords at the read and acted as if they could sense something was amiss but didn’t know what it was.

They can’t see him. He took out the flower to make sure it was safe.  The four remaining petals gave off the soft white light. 

The demon and his ride turned towards to group of malos approaching from the city.  The scaly beast snapped its jaws in their direction.

“I know you are near,” the demon’s deep voice rumbled and the flame danced excitedly across its skin.  “Are these your people?  I know you won’t show yourself, but perhaps I can tempt you out.” The Demon’s voice took on an almost delighted tone.  “I will give you a demonstration of my destructive powers.  Prove to me you are not a coward and show yourself to save your friends.  It’s time I revealed myself to the world.”

The demon leaned low to the side of his mount and slammed the butt of his axe handle against the ground.  There was a flash of red light like a shockwave the race through the forest in all directions away from the spot where his axe handle struck the ground.

The group of malos screamed with fright as they caught sight of the demon and his beast only twenty yards from their position.  What courage they possessed vanished and they turned tail, fleeing back towards the village.

The demon spurred his ride with his heels and the beast exploded forwards with a terrifying roar.  The demon overtook the small group of malos and chopped them in pieces with his massive double-sided axe.  The beast managed to snap up those who avoided the demon’s weapon with his sharp teeth.

            Frightened malos cried and hollered as the Demon turned his wrath onto the camp’s occupants, slicing them up with his axe or letting his beast devour them.  Malos attempted to flee in all direction, but this only excited the demon more.  He ran them down in all directions.

            Flit felt as if someone had grabbed the lower half of his stomach and started to squeeze the contents inside upward into his throat.  His heart ached at the horrific sight.  “Noooooooo,” he screamed with tears welling in his eyes.

            The demon and his ride stopped dead at the sound of Flit’s cry.

            “So you do care,” the demon’s deep voice rumbled.  “But that will not save them.  Show yourself or they will all die.”

            Tears ran down Flit’s cheeks and he glanced down at the flower.  “What good are you, if I can’t save others?”

            “But it can save them,” several female voices spoke inside his ear at once. “Tear off a live petal near the demon.  Yes tear off a petal,” They spoke with a sense of urgency.

            Flit shook his head, wondering if he had imagined the voices.

            “Hurry Flit!”

            Adrenaline flooded through his body, blocking out they pain in his back.  “I’m coming,” he shouted, bolting towards the demon.

            The demon tugged the reins of his mount, spinning him in Flit’s direction.  “Where are you? Show yourself!”

            “I’m c—coming,” Flit stuttered.  With each new stride his fear returned in greater measure and his feet grew heavier.  “I—I’m…”

            The demon’s beast reared up on its hind legs and then began bouncing on its front legs with excitement.  Every time its massive weight hit the ground vibrated from the impact. 

Flit’s heart threw itself against his ribcage. 

            “Closer!” the female voices whispered to him when he drew within a dozen yards.

            Flit’s sprint turned to tiptoeing.  He cautiously put each foot down, trying to avoid making any sound.

            “I grow tired of this game.  I know you are near, but I will resume killing your people down to the last child if you don’t come out of hiding now!”

            When? Flit thought.  His whole body trembled as he inched his way closer to the beast.  He couldn’t bring himself to look directly at the demon or its pet.  He averted his eyes, using his peripheral vision to guide him.

            When Flit was within ten feet of the demon the females spoke into his ear.  “Now!”

            With shaking hands Flit held the flower out in front of him like a shield separating him from his foe.  He tore off one the live petals from the main part of the flower.

            A ball of bright warm light grew from the separated petal.  It rapidly increased in size and intensity.  The demon and its mount wailed as if the light caused them physical pain and flinched away from the rapidly spreading orb.  As the growing light touched the demon and his mount, they started to smoke as it burned their skin.  The demon spurred his ride hard and they sped away from the chasing brilliant rays, howling with rage.

            The light fanned out as far as Flit could see for several minutes and then vanished, leaving him with the live flower and a blackened petal.  He thought about dropping the dead portion on the ground but decided to put it and the live flower in his pocket.

            If the demon can track the dead flower, I don’t want him to come back here. I better find the other petal and move it as well. The pain in Flit’s back returned with the absence of danger to command his attention.  He winced when he started walking back towards the spot where he had dropped the first petal.  The lash marks forced him to move at a somewhat sideways angle to lessen the stinging sensation.

            Malos started to gather around the area of slaughter.  Several began weeping for the loss of their loved ones while many eyed Flit asking what had driven the demon away.

            “Where did that light come from?” some asked.

            “Did Flit have something to do with it?” others questioned. 

            “Did he create the light?” a malo queried causing the others to look and marvel at Flit in a curious manner.

            “Why are we driving him away if he has the power to protect us?” another called as Flit reached to boarder of the camp. 

            Flit glanced back at the gathering crowd and then turned to search for the lost petal.  Hurry!  Find it!  You can’t stay here!  He spun back and forth and made several circles in awkward positions while scanning the ground for the dead portion of the flower.

            A small group of malos headed in Flit’s direction while the rest watched him. 

            “Flit, wait?” the head malo called while waving a hand through the air.

            “Finally,” Flit muttered under his breath upon locating the dead petal.  He gasped as a sharp pain shot through his back while he bent to pick up the object.  When he managed to finally straighten back up, the small group had reached him.  He slipped the petal into his pocket before anyone could notice it.

            “Flit, how did you dispose of those monsters?” The head malo’s eyes were wide with wonder.  He looked Flit up and down as if seeing him for the first time.

            “I didn’t dispose of them.  He is still out there.  And he may be back,” Flit stated.  He took a deep breath and spun on his heel to leave.

            “WAIT!” the head malo almost shouted.  “Still you chased it off with that…light.  How did you create it?  Maybe we were a little hasty.  We,” he motioned towards the group, which consisted of many on the council, “made a mistake.”

            “You whipped me,” Flit said more out of sorrow than anger. 

            “We are very sorry.  We were wrong,” another council member stepped forward.

            Flit peered at all the expectant faces.  He longed to stay with his people, but something deep down told him he needed to go.  He actually found the prospect of leaving as a form of relief, like there was something much more for him waiting out there.  Maybe the creator is right.  There is something I can do.

            “Please stay,” a female councilor said. 

            “I know you can’t understand this now, but I can help you more by leaving,” Flit said.  “I must go.”  His own words surprised him.  He actually wanted to leave.  Even living with the malos he had been on his own, no one liked him.  After Haddar’s minions rounded up his parents for sport in the arena, no one really wanted to take him in.  It was a struggle to survive and take care of your immediate family, let alone add another mouth to feed.

            “Stay.  We will make your life better,” the head malo stated.

            “I can’t protect you from everything out there.  I’m sorry, but I must go.” Flit ignored their requests and promises, heading in the direction of the forest. 

            Several malos followed him until he was almost a quarter mile into the hunted forest before giving up and watching him disappear into the trees.  When Flit noticed he was alone, he angled back towards the edge of the trees away from his camp.  The forest was a dangerous place and the memory of Jett was still fresh in his mind.

            Flit returned to the usual practice of scampering between one group of trees or bushes to the next until he drew within sight of the end of the trees.  Beyond the edge of the forest rolling hills with high grasses extended as far as the eye could see.  Flit knew the area well.  Groups of farmers lived, tucked within the hills trying to raise grain and livestock.  They defended their farms ferociously.  They had to in order to discourage anyone trying to target their goods.

            Flit found a nice grouping of trees and took a rest, trying to decide what he should do.  He sat cross-legged with his back against a tree.  “What am I to do?” he muttered to himself and then the memory of the voices of the female ghosts coming from the flower gave him an idea.

            He took out the flower.  He held it in his hands and stared at its beauty.  What do I ask it?  Will they answer again?  How long do I have with only three petals left?

            “Who are you?” a female voice asked.

            Flit jumped clamping his hands down over the flower.  He turned to see the point of a sword only a foot away from his back.

            “A malo!” An astonishingly pretty xenska stated at the sight of Flit.  “Are you part of a raid,” she demanded stepping so the point of her sword poked Flit.

            “N—no.” Flit couldn’t stop staring at her smooth pail white face with her violet eyes. 

She had long dark wavy hair and stood maybe an inch or two taller than Flit with a thin frame.  She appeared to be close to his age.  Her eyes jumped from Flit to various clumps of trees along the edge of the forest.  “Malos only come into our lands when they want to steal our property.  So what are you doing here?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Flit lowered his head.

“You’re a liar…and a thief.  Malos never travel alone and they aren’t good for anything but sport in Haddar’s areans.” She jabbed him.

“Hey!” Flit swatted the tip of her blade so it was no longer pointing at him and then rubbed the spot. He already had enough injuries. He lifted his shirt to see a small cut with blood trickling down his side.  “You broke the skin.” Flit slide the flower into his pocket with his other hand and then got to his feet.

The xenska stepped back with a surprised expression.  She kept the sword pointed at Flit. “What happened to your back?”

“Nothing, and I’m not here to steal anything. I’m looking for something. I’ll just move on.” Flit yanked down his shirt and walked past her, heading back into the forest.

“Wait!” she chased after him.  “I didn’t give you permission to leave,” she barked, trying to cut off his place of retreat.  “I’m not alone.  You can’t just walk away.”

Flit didn’t know where he found this new disregard for anyone with a weapon, but it seemed to be growing.  “Look.  I’m alone and I mean you no harm, so I’m going.”

“If you don’t stop, I will call for help,” the xenska demanded raising her voice, causing Flit to stop.

Before Flit could vent his increasing frustration, a strange whistle rang out from two different locations.

The xenska glanced around and then poked Flit in the ribs with the sword while an angry expression painted itself on her face. “I knew you were a liar.” Keeping the sword on him, she seized his arm and spun him around.  She forced Flit into a nearby group of trees.

Flit gasped. “I’m…” Flit started but a harder poke silenced him.

“Shut your mouth,” the xenska ordered, trying to spot any signs of a danger over Flit’s shoulder.

The whistles started again but they took on a different sound.  The pitch was higher and the call longer. 

“Oh no,” the xenska gasped.

“What?” Flit glanced over his shoulder to see the fear in the xenska’s eyes as they jumped around.

“Catchers,” she whispered.

The hair all over Flit’s body rose to attention and a great fear spread through him.  Catchers scoured the land searching for the weak and the helpless to sell into slavery or to the arenas.  To be caught by a catcher was an almost certain death sentence.

“They will probably have kaps with them.” Flit joined the search for a place to hide.

“Kaps?  Where can we hide from them?” the xenska hissed.

“Where is the nearest water source?” Flit demanded.  “Where do you get your water?”

“Why?” The xenska’s eyes reflected fear and panic.

“Kaps can’t smell you in the water,” Flit stated.  He knew from previous encounters with catchers that the only options would be to find a river or lake and hope you could find a reed or hold your breath long enough when the catchers drew near.

“There is a river almost a mile away.” The xenska pointed to the south of them when the grunting and howls of the kaps reached their ears coming from the same direction. 

Several new whistles rang out and then went silent.

“My people are fleeing.” The xenska made like she was going to leave when the voices of the catchers combined with the kaps, stopped her.  “I left my safety to come after you.  Now, I won’t make it back,” she cried.

“We can make it.  I will help you. We are going to have to make a wide circle.” Flit bolted deeper into the haunted forest.  He didn’t know why he offered to aid the xenska.  Usually, races didn’t intermingle unless it was in cites or the arena, but somehow the thought of anyone suffering in the arena pained him.

“Wait,” the xenska cried running after him.  “We can’t go that way.”

Flit had to slow his pace to let her stay with him.  Once again, his need helped him block the wounds on his back. “Circling around them is our best chance.  We would never out run the kaps once they pick up our scent.  If we try to circle through the fields we run the chance of being spotted causing them to give chase before we have time to reach the water or we make them go where no one wants to go.” 

“But aren’t their worse…things…in here?” She panted.

“There are, but right now our biggest threat is the catchers.  I have traveled the forest many times and not encountered anything.”  The memory of Jett caused his insides to squirm at his last statement.  And the demon is still out there. “Just keep your eyes open and your sword ready.”

Flit continued deeper into the forest until he could no longer hear the kaps above his heart pounding in his ears and his heavy breathing.  He slowed to get his bearings and rest a bit.  “We should be able to angle back towards the river from here.”

“You don’t think we could wait it out here?” the xenska glanced around.  “Find a good spot to hide and…”

“Remember what forest this is. We don’t want to stay and there is no guarantee the catchers won’t follow us in.  They have the kaps and weapons for protection.” Flit glanced at the sky and the xenska followed his lead.

“Wow.  You can actually make out the position of the sun today,” the xenska exclaimed.

            “Yeah,” Flit realized it had been that way since he had left the garden.  He chose his line and started marching towards the river.

            “Is it always like that?” the xenska questioned, trying to follow and look at the sun at the same time.

            “Like what?”

            “Can you always see the sun in the forest?” the xenska asked.

            “Just lately.” Flit remembered the clear skies in the garden.

            “I don’t think I’ve seen it that well in well over five or more years, and that was on a very windy day,” she commented.  “How often…”

            Flit spun and thrust a finger to his lips.  “Remember where we are.  Hold the questions for later,” he whispered while glancing around to make his point.

            “Sorry,” she mouthed and pulled a concerned face while following his eyes.

            Flit walked at a brisk pace always using trees and bushes to shield them from as much of the open spaces as possible.  He fought the constant urge to sprint for the river, knowing to do so might expose them to some hidden danger in the forest.  Several times, a strange animal call forced them to take cover and wait.  The only positive was they hadn’t heard any sign of the catchers.

            “I think it’s safe,” Flit whispered after an unusually long wait. 

            “What’s your name?” the xenska whispered before Flit could take off.

            “Ah, Flit.” He felt surprised by the question.  Never had anyone ever asked him that question before.  “What’s yours?”

            “Kerra,” she responded.  “Thank you, Flit.  Thanks for not leaving me.”

            “You’re welcome.” Flit smiled at her and then started forward once more. With the temporary lack of a threat to their safety, the pain in his back returned, forcing him to walk funny.

            “Does it hurt?”

            “Yes.”

            It took them almost an hour until they reached the edge of the forest where they could see the river several hundred yards across the open grasslands.  The closer they drew to the edge of the trees the slower Flit walked.  They used some high bushes to search for danger.

            “I think it’s safe,” Kerra said in a hushed voice.

            “Something doesn’t seem right.” Flit couldn’t see anything but years of trying to move about unseen had taught him valuable lessons.  “Why is there no sound at all?”

            “What?” Kerra shot him a confused look.

            “Usually, no sound at all means something bad is waiting close by.  Birds and small animals are avoiding the area for some reason,” Flit pointed out.

            “Oh. So what do you want to do?” Kerra questioned. 

            Behind them several kaps howled and the shouts of their masters followed.

            “Run!” Flit ordered.

            He and Kerra sprinted out into the high grasses.  They only made it twenty yards when a hidden net controlled by concealed catchers and hinged poles, scooped them up off the ground.  They bumped heads hard and their arms and legs popped out of the holes in the net.

Very unedited chapter 3 of new story :)

3

            Flit stood motionless with his mouth agape for several minutes.  His eyes jumped to the empty air, where the pillar of fire had been, to the while flower in his hands.  How am I supposed to keep this thing safe? Won’t smashing it in a pocket kill it faster? He pulled out his shirt to peek inside and then looked in his pocket, trying to decide what to do with the flower.

            “It is beautiful,” he mumbled to himself.  He had never seen anything so white in all his life.  It gave off its own light and it actually felt warm in his hand.

            He walked mindlessly around the garden, the short conversation with the pillar of fire playing over and over again in his mind.  What am I to learn? Patience!     

            “Why do you marvel, Flit,” the blond’s voice spoke.

            “How can I hide this without destroying it?  And how is it supposed to protect me from that horrible demon?  How do I get out of this place?” Flit struggled to control his fear and hold back the tears trying to make an appearance.

            “Only a few things besides time will harm that flower,” the redhead spoke out of nowhere. 

            “Like what?”

            “Any acts of evil by you will hasten its demise,” the blond stated.

            “I don’t understand?” Flit shook his head.  “How am I to know what is evil and what isn’t?”

            “The flower can teach you.  Pay attention to it.  You’re actions can cause the petals to discolor and wilt.” The blond in her white gown flashed in his vision and then vanished.

            “What types of things should I avoid?” Flit pleaded.

            “Lying, cheating, stealing, murdering…” several female voices almost sang. 

            “These things are evil,” the redhead’s voice added. “But your heart has already told you these things.  All life knew these things at one time or another.  They have just put them off so long that their hearts are corrupted.”

            “But then how am I, a malo, supposed to survive?  We must steal to eat,” Flit stated, eyeing the flower.

            “You must find other ways to live,” the blond said. “You have collected berries.”

            “Like that’s going to be easy.” Flit exhaled and rolled his eyes.

            “It is time for you to leave Flit.  You must return to this garden before the last petal falls,” the redhead stated.

            “How am I to know when that will happen and how do I get out of here?”

            “Watch the flower.  Learn the color of the petals right before they drop.  That will tell you how much time you have,” the redhead continued.

            “As for how to get out of here, the flower has the power to open the gate,” the blond said.

            “The gate?”

            “The gate,” several voices repeated.

            “Where is the gate?”

            “It is wherever the holder of a flower chooses to enter the wall,” the blond informed him.  “Remember to return before the flower dies or the demon will come for you.”

            “Where is the gate?” Flit questioned but no one answered.

            He stood listening for several moments.  “Hello?”

Again, no one answered. 

“The gate is wherever one with a flower chooses?” he muttered to himself.  He glanced at the flower and then at the wall of thorns. 

            Deciding he would be lost if he didn’t leave on the same side as he entered, he went in search of the opening he had created.  It took him a lot longer than he had anticipated as the hole must have sealed itself.  He used his memory of what he had seen upon first entering the garden to determine his location. 

            “I think this is it.” He eyed the spot for a few moments.  After taking a deep breath, he walked towards the wall.

            Flit jumped when the thorns dissolved and a beautiful golden archway with golden gates appeared in their stead.  “Wow.” Flit’s jaw dropped.  He half expected his hand to pass through the golden doors when his skin touched the actual metal. 

            He slid his hand along the smooth metal surface, admiring its beauty.  He had only ever seen small coins of gold and their value was incredibly great.  For a brief moment he wondered how much he could trade for such an amount of gold.  I would be killed for one of those small coins and probably much worse for this much gold.

            He peered through the bars of the gate at the dark forest beyond and then pushed his way through.  After taking several steps into the trees, he glanced back to see the gate had turned back into the wall of thorns.  The sky changed to the dim smoky haze it always was, except today there was a slight difference.  Instead of the smoke totally hiding the sun from view, Flit could pinpoint its location through the haze as if it were slightly thinner than usual.

Turning back towards the thorns, he held out the flower and the gate returned.  “Wow.” He marveled at the magic of the flower. 

            Not wanting to lose his precious gift, he tucked the flower very gently into his pocket.  He started retracing the path that brought him to this part of the forest.  He was no more than fifty yards away from the wall when the thudding of heavy feet shook the ground.  The demon! Flit hopped behind the nearest tree.  Fear spread over him as if he had been dipped in icy waters. 

            He poked his head out for a quick peek.  The demon with fire dancing over his skin rode his reptilian mount along the perimeter of the wall.  When it reached the spot where Flit had exited, it came to a halt.  The mount’s nostrils flared as it sniffed the area around the wall.

            A high-pitched cry echoed through the forest so terrifying it almost stopped Flit’s heart.  He covered his ears against the intensity and length of the wail, curling into a crouch on the forest floor.  When the noise stopped a deep silence followed as if the cry had chased all the life out of the forest.

            “I know you left the gardens,” a deep growl-like voice rumbled through the forest.  “I will find you and torment you.  Your death will not be swift.  You will endure more pain than you can imagine.  You cannot hide from me.”

            Flit started to blubber silently in his little bubble of fear.  Why?  Why did you leave the gardens? 

            The sniffing of the beast grew nearer and nearer until it was within a couple dozen yards of Flit’s position.  Flit trembled so violently he couldn’t control his limbs.  It will find me.  He will kill me. Tears rolled down Flit’s cheeks and his bottom lip quivered at a great speed.

            Just when Flit thought the demon was about to seal his fate, the beast it rode turned and moved off in another direction.  Flit dared not even budge as the rider and its mount zigzagged in a wide circle around Flit’s position but never managed to get closer than a stones cast.

            After remaining in his paranoid state, shacking from head to toe, waiting for the demon to feed him to his mount, Flit found the courage to stand. It took all the strength he had to remain up right while his knees knocked together. 

            The demon and its ride continued their search about a hundred yards off to his left.  The beast would sniff the ground and the air trying to locate what it knew was somewhere out there.

            Flit took the flower out of his pocket and cupped it in his hands to protect it.  He peered at it through a small opening.  It works! Still the demon knew he was out and seemed to be able to track him enough to remain a lot closer than Flit would have liked.  Maybe it will fall behind and wander away.  He carefully slid the flower back into his pocket.

            Keeping the Demon in view, Flit took a tentative step forward.  The dry leaves crackled under his feet, causing his heart to jump into his throat. 

            The demon and the thing it rode didn’t appear to have heard the sound, continuing their search in a confused manner.  The beast would appear to have found a scent one moment and then lose it again a few seconds later.

            Flit moved again.  Still the demon didn’t notice.  He advanced several paces and the demon didn’t respond.  Flit continued attempting greater and greater distances until after no response from the demon, he made his break. 

            He finally turned his back on the demon and hurried to the cliff he had tumbled over the day before.  From there, he tracked his way back to the tree where he covered his eyes and spun away.  Dried blood covered the leaves beneath the tree Jett had climbed.

            “I’m sorry, Jett,” he muttered to himself.  Even though Jett had hated him, Flit felt empty and sad inside.  He struggled to hold back his emotions.  “No one deserves that.”

            Hanging his head in sorrow, Flit made his way back to the malo’s camp.  The closer he go to its boarders, the greater the anxiety he felt.  He knew he would have to tell them about Jett’s death and something about his escape.  They will not believe I got away when Jett, who was the stronger and faster, did not.

            “Where have you been?” a deep voice surprised Flit, causing him to jump.  The guard, Mish, appeared from behind a tree.  “And where’s Jett?”  A scowl creating deep lines of disapproval creased Mish’s face.  “You were supposed to bring back some food.”

            “Jett’s dead,” Flit said, hoping the horrible news would ease some of Mish’s tension and desire for food.  “I barely escaped with my life.”

            “What?  How?” Mish’s expression changed to one of fear as he cast a wayward glance at the forest. 

            “A black bird alerted some other creatures,” Flit explained about the monsters that chased them and how Jett managed to get in the tree while he had to flee on foot.  He told him about the horrible scream he had heard after fallen over the cliff.  “When I found the spot today…blood…everywhere.” Flit hung his head at the horrible memory.

            Mish’s eyes moved up and down with a curious expression. “We should go and report to the council,” Mish nodded in the direction of the village and started marching towards the camp.

            Mish’s questioning glance, gave Flit the impression Mish didn’t believe his story.  Flit followed Mish into the camp, which consisted of make-shift tents constructed from branches and worn out fabric.  Small fires, giving off little smoke, burned here and there to hide their presence.  The enter camp was one of poverty and isolation.

            Mish signaled two young malos.  The boys hurried toward him.  “Go and summon the council.  Flit has returned and Jett is dead.”

            The two small malos hurried off to fulfill their charge. 

            Flit and Mish headed towards the largest tent in the camp.  By the time they arrived others started to gather in response to the boys summons.  Flit followed Mish in through an opened flap of cloth.  Log benches formed a circle around the tent walls and torches burned on wooden polls, making it possible to see. 

            “Stand in the center.” Mish waved Flit into the middle of the room.

            Flit’s legs felt like they had sprouted roots each time he put a foot down.  He found it difficult to meet the eyes of the council members, who continued to file in the opening.  The malos both men and women crowded onto the benches.  With each new member, Flit found it more difficult to breath as if the room grew smaller and smaller.

            The head malo, an elder male with a grey mop of hair and wrinkled tan face spoke quietly with Mish for several moments.  All the other crosstalk in the room left Flit wondering what Mish was saying.  Flit tried to read the elder malo’s expressions but they remained unchanged.

            The tension made Flit want to flee and when he didn’t think he could stand no more, the elder malo rose to his feet.  He raised his hands high in the air so that he was almost touching the top of the tent.  This gesture brought instant silence to the council.

            “Jett is dead,” the head malo stated loudly and a wave of gasps and a few cries broke out among the council.  “Flit is here to tell us what happened.  Flit.”  The chief took his seat.

            Once more, Flit told the tale about what had happened to Jett and how he had escaped.  Again, he stopped the tale at the point of falling over the cliff, letting the council assume it was how he had escaped.  He knew he couldn’t tell them about the gardens, for no one would believe him, plus the ghost had informed him to keep it a secret.

            “Are you sure the blood was Jett’s?” a council member questioned.

            “Ah…I couldn’t find another explanation,” Flit stated.  “But, it is possible it wasn’t his.”

            Flit noticed the head malo nod towards Mish.

            “I have a question,” Mish bellowed and all eyes turned towards him.  “If you fell over a cliff and landed in bush as you say, where are your injuries?  You don’t have so much as a scratch on your skin.  Your clothing looks ripped and shredded, but you have no marks.”

            This question sent a wave of murmurs and head nodding around the room.

            Flit remembered the fruit and held up his arm to see his smooth tan skin which was whole and undamaged.

            “What are you saying?” another council member asked.

            “I think Flit had some hand in Jett’s death.  Whether he pushed Jett out of the tree to satisfy the beasts or outright murdered him,” Mish exclaimed.  “Then he shredded his clothes and made up his escape.”

            “Let us see your back,” another member demanded. 

            “Yes, show us your back.” They all started to chant.

            “M—murder…M—my back?” Flit’s body started to tremble and his head began to spin.  What was happening?

            Mish rushed Flit and knocked him to the floor.  After ripping Flits shirt off, he yanked him to his feet and spun him around for all to see the smooth undamaged skin.

            “I did not murder Jett,” Flit wailed and tears formed along the bottom of his eyes. 

            “Then where are the marks,” Many demanded.

            “I used a salve,” Flit lied and felt and his front thigh grew icy cold.  The flower floated at the front of his mind, but he didn’t respond to it.

            “Liar! Liar!” Everyone started to chant.

            “Kill him.” others shouted. 

            Once more, the head malo stood and held up his arms to silence the crowd.  “We have no proof Flit murdered Jett, but…”  His eyes locked on to Flits.  “His story does not ring true.  We cannot trust him.”

            “Banish him,” a woman shouted.

            “Yes, banish him,” another agreed. 

            “Flog him and banish him,” they all started chanting.

            “NO!  I swear. I did nothing wrong,” Flit cried.

            “It shall be so,” the head malo shouted and the group rose to their feet. 

They dragged a scream Flit out of the tent and tied him to a tree.  By this time everyone in the camp had turned up to see what the disturbance was. 

“Flit, I hear by sentence you to receive twenty lashes and you are banished from out presence,” the head malo shouted.

Pain, erupted across Flit’s back as if he had fallen backwards into a fire.  He screamed with each crack of the whip.  He could barely make out the crowds faces through his tears.  They were cheering his anguish.  Their faces appeared distorted and twisted as they spit towards him.  A spark ignited somewhere in the back of his mind, causing the tears and his voice to stop.  He teeth clenched and he took the last few lashes without showing any response.

Mish cut the rope holding Flit against the tree and Flit dropped to the ground. 

“If I ever see you again, I will kill you,” Mish whispered in his ear.

The crowd started chanting in unison, “Leave. Leave. Leave.”

Flit struggled to hide his pain while he struggled to his feet.  He leaned against the tree for several moments to regain his composure.  Blood ran down his back and he wished he had some of the garden’s fruit to stop the pain.  The garden.  The flower.  The cold.  He slowly slid his hand up and down his thigh as if the movement made him feel better. 

“Someone bring him a cloak,” the head malo shouted and a man tossed a tattered leather garment made from a fruit collecting sack at Flit’s feet.

Flit eased his way to the ground by kneeling on one knee.  Any attempt to bend or twist his back created a sharp shot of pain that would take his breath away.  He struggled to maintain a passive face not wanting to give the malos the satisfaction of seeing him punished.  They never even liked you.  Even while they rejected him, he couldn’t find it in his heart to hate them as his eyes jumped around the shabby camp. 

He snagged the garment and gritted his teeth in order to regain his feet. 

“Flit, you are no longer welcome in our camp.  If you return, you will be treated as a criminal and executed,” the head malo shouted and then turned his back to Flit, then the entire camp showed Flit their backs as well.

Flit glanced at the people he knew and then swallowed the lump pushing its way into his throat at the prospect of being alone.  “I didn’t do anything to Jett.” Flit walked gingerly away from the camp, each step was a new experience in pain.  He tried to maintain a statuesque-like posture to his gate in order to decrease the pain from his wounds.

When he reached the edge of the camp, he leaned against a tree to gain his composure.  He didn’t know if it was his injured back or fear of the unknown that halted his departure.  He slowly checked the area for any unwanted eyes before checking the flower. 

The sight that met his eyes caused him greater distress one of the petals had wilted brown and fallen away from the main flower.  How? I thought I had several weeks.  He remembered the cold feeling and noticed the dead petal felt like ice while the main flower remained warm to the touch.

He tried to remember what was happening the moment he noticed the cold.  I had told a lie.  I lied about how my injuries were healed, but surely I had a reason to do it?

Flit eyed the dead petal for a moment and then dropped it to the forest floor.  The second the petal hit the ground, the beast the demon rode, let out a roar from somewhere inside the forest.  Flit froze.  He strained his ears wondering if he had imagined it when the roar came again, closer.

He’s heading this way!