The Cleansing (Book One: The Folara Chronicles)

083: Jerrika

Jerrika flew. 

Why did she feel such terrible anger toward a man she'd known and trusted all her life? It wasn't like her. They were like siblings, she thought strangely, fighting the way Galantyne often did with Kara. She shouldn't feel the way she did, but ever since the revelation of her wings and her growing mastery of telepathy, she felt a strange hostility also.

A sickening thought now entered her awareness. What if she had been manipulated? What if the image in her Zalez had not been Ondrea at all, but Adara Sebille?

She pictured Quildor's witch in her final few days, lost power, lost knowledge, grabbing at anything she could to keep her in Quildor's good graces, but he had already discarded her. And she knew it. No matter how many books of spells, or vials of poison she claimed to have, he had no use for her. Surely she didn't have the ability to create such an illusion in Jerrika's mind. She discarded that thought. Korlon was wrong. 

She felt her stomach growl and narrowed her eyes. As if on cue, her eyes sharpened, her senses clarified and the tiniest movement of prey seemed to jump out at her. A pheroon would be good eating, what other game could she scare up? 

Swooping down and using razor sharp talons to pierce the unsuspecting animal gave her the greatest unexpected pleasure she'd ever felt. She knew she could eat it. She would have to land and start a fire and cook it. 

She wondered about starting a fire, and knew if she was too close to the trail when she did it, she risked being seen. She flew higher and higher, looking for a place she could hide and satisfy her sudden craving.

It took at least an hour, and her stomach was protesting, as were her wings. Perhaps Korlon had known something about Harpyiae strength after all. She was tired and needed a break. A clearing presented itself and Jerrika took it, eyeing the little pheroon with the intense desire to rip its head off and drink its blood, or eat it raw, feathers and fur and all. That thought made a part of her feel ill at its contemplation, while at the same time, she couldn't deny it, and in one deft motion, transferred the dead animal from talon to fingers and did indeed rip the head off. Digging her fingers under the exposed fur at the neck, she quickly, and systematically tore its skin off, and then while looking around for anything to build a fire out of, she found herself licking the juices off her fingers. A rational side of her knew this wasn't right, knew she shouldn't be doing this, that it went against who and what she was. But that side wasn't winning the war against her hunger at the moment, and not finding any kindling close by, and the rudimentary knowledge of fire-making she'd ascertained in survival training years before certainly escaped her now. She gave in to the basest of longings and dug her teeth in.

The raw pleasure of eating was done all too soon, and night was coming on. Rather than making her feel clear or normal, eating made her even hungrier. She took to flight once more and found the added use of bird eyes helped her find even more prey. She didn't even stop to think about a fire, but while in mid-air, began to feed. After five more of these pheroons and a strange small bird, Jerrika felt like she could rest, and the gnawing bitterness in her stomach was at least drowning her conscience enough to find a few rocks to lay her head on. She slept.

******

Mathilde came to the rise. "I was hoping we were preparing to go home."

Ondrea gave her a frustrated scowl. "Don't you listen to anything I tell you? We have to call the Council of Ladies, Mathilde! We must get each and every one of them to revoke their kai and embrace the planetary gift of Zalez, which will enable Talisman to heal the toxic air. Our situation on the surface is temporary, Mathilde! Without kai, we...."