Ashsib and the Cat Beast

Chapter Eight

"What are we doing? Are we going in circles?" Bretta seemed to be asking herself, since she didn't wait for her companions to answer as she led the way through the fog, "Where are the others? What are they doing?"

Elian and Namere trailed behind the irate woman. After waking up in a clearing, and flattening untouched grasses, they had walked until it seemed like they were stuck in an endless loop of fog and gravel trails. Whatever purpose there was in their journey had not been made apparent.

"I'm stopping. I need a break!" Bretta sat down right where she stood.

Elian crouched, vainly pushing his hair from his face. The moisture made it droop, showing more length than was usually visible. He still worried through it with his hands but it didn't have the same effect.

Namere remained standing.

"Relax, why don't you." Bretta huffed. "As the other woman here, you're making me look bad."

Namere didn't budge, her hair, too, hung in stringy rivulets. It seemed that no matter how many times she pushed it away, it fell back over her face.

"I don't know how they knew about my corset. I feel ill at ease without it, naked even." She said, flapping her shirt a little against the damp.

"You certainly look different without it." Bretta gave her a critical once over, "Why is that, I wonder."

Namere shrugged. She still wore a baggy shirt and tight breeches, borrowed clothes from the rest of the crew, but her shoulders looked uneven.

"It's Karihyou's absence that really bothers me." She said.

"Naked and missing a limb?" Elian asked.

"Feels like it." Namere nodded.

"Let's keep moving." Bretta announced, taking lead once more, "What's up with your backpack, by the way, Elian? We didn't have any other items."

"It's full of first aid supplies." Elian said.

"That must mean we'll need them." Namere said dryly.

"Please don't say that." Bretta spoke in a small voice, knowing it was true. Her bluster only covered a portion of her unease. Thinking of being subject to violence was the step too far.

"You need it right now, don't you?" Elian pointedly asked Namere, "Your pain medication should have worn off when we came into port and it's been, well, it's hard to tell in this damnable fog," He frowned, looking across the sky for some sort of sign through the dense clouds, "Several hours, anyway."

"No, I'm fine." Namere said with a small shake of her head, "I've been healing up well."

"You're pretty strong, huh?" Elian said as he scratched at his scalp absently, keeping up the chat.

"Strong has nothing to do with it." Namere said bitterly. After a few more steps she continued, "Ashsib told you about my sword?"

"Ah, yeah, he told me what it felt like to touch it." The doctor nodded, keeping his opinions to himself.

"I'm pretty used to it. Karihyou and I have been together constantly for over ten years, through war and injury, but the sword's pain is nothing compared to having a piece of the Beast inside me. The two fight when they're together, but the Beast already broke my sister so it knows my weak points pretty well. Sheer force of will is keeping me in control, physical pain is pale in comparison. It's absolutely exhausting. I wouldn't be surprised if I just collapsed."

"I'll keep that in mind." Elian responded, "From a doctor's perspective, though, you hide your pain and weakness very well."

"Force of habit." Namere shrugged again.

"You can't possibly-" Elian began before running into the back of a stopped Bretta, "Why'd you- oh, I see."

A tall figure loomed before them, all folded fabric except for a shiny, smooth face that smiled at them too widely to be friendly.

"Hello again! Hich Hich Hich!" That un-face said, happily bouncing from foot to foot.

Bretta slipped behind Namere.

"What do you want?" Namere's voice was hard as she demanded. The two with her had never heard that authority in her before. It was not like Quinn's way of ordering, it was a cold expectation.

The Smile seemed to give her an appraising look, much like Bretta had, before answering.

"Everyone else is playing fun games, but you guys," The figure had to take a minute to gleefully chuckle before he could get out the rest of his sentence, "Get the best one! It's my favorite!"

"I'm sure that's not a good thing." Elian remarked.

"Not for you! Hich Hich Hich! But luck of the draw was not on your side." He responded, bouncing up and down, "You play: Duck, Duck, Goose!"

"...like the tag game?" Bretta spoke around Namere.

"Hich Hich Hich!" Smile laughed while wagging one finger, "My games have different rules, y'knoooow."

"This guy is really pissing me off." Bretta's eyebrow twitched in annoyance, "What kind of speech pattern is he using?"

"No one's going to ask this time?" The figure sounded like he was pouting.

"You're going to tell us either way, right?" Elian deduced.

"Fine, fine, fine!" Smile waved a gloved hand, "In Duck, Duck, Goose, one person is 'it.' 'It' is the Goose. The Ducks choose which one is Goose. Simple as that!"

"Once we choose Goose, then what happens?" Namere interrupted his chortling.

From the folds of his robe, the Smiling Man pulled a long, thin blade. The tip of it shone wickedly in the dim light. He tossed it hand to hand, laughing, and answered. "The Goose dies. That way, all the Ducks can live. Even the Ducks who've played my other games. The Goose is sacrifice. Hich Hich! Otherwise, all the Ducks will die anyway. One for eight." Even the chortling stopped as Smile Mask eagerly waited for their answer.

"We can't - no. Of course, no!" Bretta stuttered angrily, "No way."

"You don't have the option to say no." The grinning face somehow looked disappointed, "Choose the Goose! One dies or all die."

"I told you, no!" Bretta screamed back.

The Smile held out the blade. Out of the fog, a circle of other hooded people appeared. From his billowy sleeve the Smiling Man pulled a pistol and the others copied. At least two dozen guns were pointed at them now, too many to escape.

"I'll volunteer." Namere stepped forward, taking the stiletto blade.

"No!" Bretta repeated, snatching the blade from the other woman's hand.

"If it is the only way to protect-" Namere began, holding out her palm.

"It can't be." Bretta hissed, holding tighter to the weapon, "It can't! Don't say it. We don't have to play this stupid game at all."

The guns stepped closer. Namere kept her eyes on Bretta, but they were hard to read with her hair hanging near to the tip of her long nose.

"Better me, someone you've only known a few weeks, that was P.O., than a crewmate you've been with for years." Namere reasoned.

"What? Uh, no, no, no. Why are you giving in so willingly?" Bretta shook her head, "Elian, back me up here."

"All I have to do is one stab to the side." Namere stretched closer.

"No." Elian spoke, coming between the two women.

Bretta sighed in relief.

"I'm a doctor, I can do it swiftly." Elian took the blade before Bretta realized what he was saying. "One stab."

"One stab." Namere nodded in agreement.

"Yes, yes, you two understand." The smile grew wider, "Hich Hich Hich Hee. Players are best compliant." He put his gun away and watched passively.

Bretta let out another cry, but it was too late. Everything was already in motion. The doctor proceeded with grim confidence and thrust the blade.