Caravan's Loss

By B.L. Foxxe

Myra, a jungle-dwelling demon born female is an emergent dragon shifter and in a fight to survive. Her father is a demonic host doing his best to sacrifice the shifter in a portal opening. Fortunately, his attempts are continuously foiled by others, seemingly his allies, though that may change soon. A father and a son are connected to a distant jungle from their mountainous dwelling. When their paths intertwine in the near future, will the demonic portal open or snap shut permanently, or will Myra sacrifice herself to protect a precious set of lives?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Whiskey Creek Press
• Release date: May 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781633556782

Book preview

Part 1: Caravan’s Loss

Chapter 1

Leaves rustled as I wended my way through the treetops, back toward the campsite. I paused amidst the canopy of trees and listened carefully. Unconsciously my skin altered color and texture, blending in with the surroundings. Granted I couldn’t mimic the brilliant orchids and other blazing-hued flora and fauna, but branches, leaves, vines, and trunks—now that I can imitate. I closed my eyes and allowed my senses to extend beyond normal range.

I detected no wings, fire, or anything else of a harmful nature in the canopy or fields just beyond my small clan’s boundaries. A sigh of relief escaped me. Lately, more fires, among other things, had ruined more than a few plans that the Elders put into motion to test the latest teenage generation’s usefulness as a whole to the clan’s expansion in birthrate toward the future, and I’d begun wondering if some fires had been set on purpose to test our alertness. Who set the fires, I couldn’t say precisely, but I knew outcasts and rebels often banded together for protection against predators of all kinds roaming throughout the canopy and within the rivers flowing through the route we travel annually.

Relieved, muscles uncoiling and relaxing, I started on my way again. I was heading back to my caravan’s campsite after scouting ahead for dangers that might lie in our path. I tended to use vines—preferably not the dangerous snaky type—when I’m not running along huge tree branches. Since I’d already made good time and nothing good would come of me arriving earlier than the other scouts still patrolling, I slowed my pace. I much preferred arriving somewhere in the middle of a group to become cognizant of the politics of the moment within the hierarchy.

Pausing now and then, I checked on different variations in species I’ve previously come across or new species I haven’t seen before. I love various flowers and odd-shaped leaves I find high in the canopy. Espying a brilliant butterfly, I stopped completely and observed rippling patterns of flowers on the wings in fascination. Aren’t you a beautiful creature and where did you come from? Entranced, I remained motionless.

The butterfly landed on one of my wrists, the wings beating gently, and then it took off again. A smile tugged at my mouth. May you remain safe long enough to reproduce more, I murmured because that particular design was definitely unique.

Then I realized what I had just said. Bah, why am I repeating what those darned Elders say to all the females in the camp? Disgusted with repeating reproductive tripe even I despised hearing each time I stayed around an elder longer than ten minutes. Then again, what did I know? Even I knew nothing about my origins per se.

What I did know, through rumors and information shared, very sparsely, from Mistress Ti’Ana when I’d pestered her incessantly about my parents. I wasn’t even born into the clan biologically, nor was I bound from birth to any specific warrior, not good news either, but filled with uncertainty of my future because of that single status. What she told me, I didn’t appreciate but accepted as truth. At present, beyond Mistress Ti’Ana, there isn’t anyone who would speak about my parents who would answer honestly, and I’m nearly an outcast because of my extreme differences anyhow.

The mood shattered a wee bit because of my propensity on occasion to repeat what someone else said. I hated it when someone else’s thoughts disrupted my quiet time when I didn’t have to deal with politics and disapproving elders, At least I still think for myself—most of the time, I grunted, still not happy because I remained yoked in bound servitude to Mistress Ti’Ana, whom I didn’t mind, she at least understood my strange nature of preferring solitude to social gatherings. Ironically, I’m bound into servitude with Elder Mariposa, who is in charge of domestic chores, weaving, and other supposedly female activities.

Additionally I’m also working for the Elders Jonah and Creel, whom I didn’t trust further than I could throw either of them, which I wasn’t about to attempt. I despise them mostly because they have a bad tendency of groping females they wished to debauch and turn into brood mares. Two males whose actions I definitely don’t tolerate. At least not until I joined the ranks of blossoming females, and not even then would I accept those jerks as even a temporary partner.

I shook my head and continued onward. If I wasn’t patrolling or scouting, I generally went flower hunting or simply seeking shrubbery. One of my hobbies is dying thread and cloth so it can go to the tailors for their tapestries. That was something Elder Monique enjoyed working with me. Mistress Ti’Ana also encouraged my work as well. An obscure remark she made in passing led me to realize that my mother had excelled in creating tapestries, but she hadn’t given specifics, only that they had gone to particular traders that wanted unique tapestries. I had a feeling that the ones I made, but weren’t entirely approved were the ones she liked the best.

I can do that sort of thing, but—according to the Elders, our authority in the caravan—I tended to create visions straight out of any sane person’s worst nightmares. Pah! As if I could scare them into changing their ways. I shook my head in disbelief of the nonsense the Elders spouted half the time.

Then I grinned, realizing what really motivated them to stop me from creating my tapestries. ’Tis more like they wanted me to quit giving the rest of the females ideas that they don’t need a man directing their every movement, I scoffed in irritation. Maybe I will create just a small pocket-sized tapestry I can carry as a sample with me. I considered what else I could do in the future. At least that way, when I do escape, I can prove I'm not a complete dunce filled with pointless arrogance.

Therefore, no points for me in the domestic skills department, and disgrace will be painted on my particular bloodline. Though from a few things I’d overheard...that might not come off as such a bad thing after all.

I paused on a branch and sat down for a few seconds to think over the conversation I’d had with Mistress Ti’Ana about my hidden ancestry. Better about my ancestry rather than the erotic or perhaps adult scene I’d witnessed earlier during my rounds—forbidden coupling that could get the female turned into a brood mare for the entire male population...a scene that twisted my gut into knots...

* * * *

Scout Mistress Ti’Ana, my guardian, faced off with Elders Jonah, Lawrence, and Creel. None of them stood in easy stances. At last, Ti’Ana inquired stiffly, What are you in a huff about this time, Elders? She sighed heavily. I’m assuming this confrontation has to do with my ward, Myra. Again.

I’d crawled into a tree network where I listened with interest. I found it oddly encouraging that my guardian would take up for me. She rarely did so unless she found a compelling reason. As for my tapestries, I didn’t quite understand why they garnered such horror in the caravan but adoration outside of the elder circle.

The oldest and most venerated Elder, Jonah was the first to speak. I personally thought his opinion wasn’t worth much of anything. Certainly, he had nothing I’d care to believe without proof appearing first. Why do you continually encourage her to make tapestries of such nightmarish visions? Elder Jonah didn’t beat around the bush. If she continues that, he said, no one will purchase our goods.

I highly disagree with that statement, Elder. Ti’Ana’s response stopped him cold. In fact I’ve received several orders for certain large tapestries you tried burning yester eve. Her smug announcement shoved an unwelcome truth on them, I reckoned with some amusement, as that revelation registered on their faces.

There was definite annoyed silence following her response. You’re the one who removed them from the fire of baneful objects? Elder Creel sputtered in outrage. How dare you, you stupid old woman. He roared furiously and took a threatening step toward her.

Suddenly a sword appeared in Ti’Ana’s hands as she crouched easily. Don’t even think about using that hidden knife on me, Elder Creel, she warned him. I’m more than capable of throwing this and beheading all three of you where you stand.

The three Elders shook their heads while Jonah restrained Creel from anything stupid. I’d suspected for some time that if Elder Creel could kill Scout Mistress Ti’Ana, he would’ve done so long ago. I didn’t know what the history between them was, but it was very nasty from what I discerned whenever he’d recently tried discrediting her through me.

Scout Mistress Ti’Ana, I have nothing against her work personally. Elder Lawrence spoke with aggrieved ire. However, we must consider the caravan as a whole. He shook his head at the Scout Mistress. The girl has some extreme grievances, and not just those that manifest themselves in her odd tapestries.

The girl, as you refer to her so scornfully, simply manifests talent passed down through her maternal and paternal genes. Scout Mistress Ti’Ana wasn’t buying that reasoning of his, I could tell. Not only that but there are people who need those tapestries in order to survive throughout at least one decade’s worth of generations. She snorted sourly. You’ll go on believing that if you wish. She virtually exuded disdain. I know what happened with that eating of wrong meat, you fool. What she details is nothing less than the truth of what’ll happen as the inbreeding continues.

Elder Lawrence persisted. If she doesn’t temper her work shortly... He spread his hands and tried appealing to Mistress Ti’Ana’s sense of fairness. ...someone will believe that we’re nothing but harbingers of death, disease, and misery to all outsiders of the clans.

It is a waste of your time arguing with me. Scout Mistress shook her head. I’m not changing my mind. She shot them cool stares. This conversation is over, gentlemen. I’m allowing her to continue her craft. She paused and added. Both of the creative arts that she’s excelled in, I might add. She tossed her head and the others abruptly vanished from the abode.

* * * *

I smiled a little as I remembered that conversation. Afterwards, the discrimination against my tapestries had indeed ended, much to my delight. I think what surprised me most was the tantalizing snippet that the talent of foretelling and creating an ever-shifting tapestry that lasted for at least ten years was passed down intrigued me most. It was more than I’d ever learned through straightforward asking of the Scout Mistress. I knew that type of conversation never worked most of the time. I think she’s deliberately hiding information simply because she wants to make me travel the world and look for answers myself. That would work if I could get out, preferably without violence.

I looked around with a start. I had shimmied down a tree trunk without realizing it and had continued my walk back to the campsite. I’d make my report to the Scout Mistress and go to the meal tent as usual. Even as I ambled along, I had no idea what would happen in a few short hours after I finished the meal and heard the announcement about the next day’s assignment of duties to all the scouts and other crafters that would either be temporary—usually in my case—or permanent which happened for just about everyone else. Those specific assignments would last up to a month if not more. However those were also held for the senior apprentices from the other side of the camp.

As I approached Elder Monique, whom I had no fondness for, she shot me an evil stare. Scout Myra will give the dusk tale tonight, she informed the children sitting around the campfire, though she continued to look at me. The woman sought to humiliate me as she knew I had next to nothing to pass on to the children. Instead, I smiled and bowed my head in acceptance as I passed the old woman by. She would regret that proclamation along with half the Elders who thought I would actually remain obedient to their declaration of taboo subjects for night time tales.

Stars were bright tonight, the air balmy and slightly cooler than normal. Word spread throughout the camp that we’d likely move to our seasonal location for the slightly colder months. Not that we had it so bad here, where we stayed presently, but rains—heavy ones—weren’t to the leaders’ liking . It made me wonder why, but for once, I had no reason to ask nosy questions.

I glanced briefly at the stars pulsing in the skies between canopies of leaves. That too wasn’t usual and I supposed it was the reason why the caravan would take to the trails again in the next few days. I suspected more changes afoot than normal. Many of the older folk had traveled into an area of land where only those who had terminal illnesses would go, and the forty to fifty couples wouldn’t return.

I had committed a taboo act with an elder’s son who would still become the main chief. I knew where my future wouldn’t remain and would have to leave the clan anyway. After the morning and afternoon when I witnessed certain multiple male and females coupling where they shouldn’t have been... I didn’t think I wanted to know what would happen to me, as I grew older.

I wondered what the future would bring to this youngest generation. Sparks from the fire gleamed brightly, as did the eyes of youngsters regarding me from around the campfire. They waited for a learning tale that would come from me, though I had nothing good or easy to import this time. In fact, I knew what I had witnessed with the girls and boys of my generation, which had barely entered adolescence and it wasn’t something I wanted to ruin any child’s innocence with before I had to.

Mine was long gone from the years of scouting, patrolling, and occasionally hunting. My stomach twisted with remembrances and I shuddered uncomfortably. However, as my conscience bade me, and what Elder Monique had selected me from the group of older children, to tell a tale, suggested I had to tell them something.

As is tradition, tonight is my time to speak before the rest of the clan. As I looked around the faces, I began noticing there were triple the number of pre-adolescent children, but less than ten of the mature adults I remembered. Indeed the clan had grown since my birth fifteen years ago in this very same campsite. I don’t remember much, but then newborn infants rarely recall much of anything unless it was traumatic. My entry into the world wasn’t dramatic as it was...uncomfortable, to put it mildly.

While ruminations whorled into intricate spirals, I gradually moved into the space left for the tale teller of the night. This time though, I didn’t sit straight in the firelight. Rather I chose to kneel half in the wavery light and half in the shadows. I didn’t dare allow my sight become compromised from the brightness. I had no reason to trust eavesdroppers not to grab me whilst I spoke. At last I glanced at the individual faces and sighed. No, I had nothing truly inspiring to tell them this night.

As I look back on the day, there are lessons I have learnt. A faintly rueful smile curved my mouth. Don’t stray from assigned and detailed routes unless granted permission. My smile faded, and I looked at them somberly. It only causes much pain and misery. My patience with shading the truth vanished almost as soon as the words escaped me.

I also don’t recommend listening to orders counter to those of the Scout Mistress. I made a sour face and the youngsters laughed at my discomfort. Better, they laugh than outright ask uncomfortable questions I couldn’t in good conscience answer. Some of what I had seen only adults should’ve set eyes upon, but now I knew what I could expect if I stayed with a certain boy I thought different from the chiefs. My folly and one I wouldn’t bother worrying about either.

Only the Scout Mistress or Master possesses the trustworthy information one needs to patrol a route. I wished I’d paid attention to that repeated warning. Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t face an unpleasant choice in the near future. I shifted uncomfortably as small whispers filled my head with potent warnings not to speak out of turn of my secret—that I carried a baby.

I grew up in a nomadic lifestyle. Each year we followed seasons, sometimes very wet ones and other times very hot ones. Very frugally did we traverse and buy items. Since we were such a small clan, we don’t have permanent small farms in which to grow produce and crops to trade or keep for ourselves during harder seasons. Lately that became a problem which shouldn’t have happened. I had actually created a tapestry predicting that future but caused such a ruckus that the Elders burned it and I’d received a very nasty beating because of my presumption. I was six at the time of the creation, I hadn’t known of the Elders’ duplicitous nature at the time.

Oh sure, we had our moments of greatness where we battled against rival caravans or took place in tourneys. Otherwise, we simply migrated from one place to another in a huge semi-circle that didn’t waver or alter for every year I remained with the caravan.

To outsiders, our life-style came across as grand and wonderful. The children of the caravan remained cloistered and isolated from awful truths while learning lessons from the elders who gave them small tasks around the campsite. They also gained basic knowledge of cookery, sewing, and domestic chores including blacksmithing, making bows, fletching arrows, and painting on canvas or working with other materials for which they had a gift.

On the other hand, I excelled in such arts as blacksmithing, fletching, and creating weapons. That hadn’t impressed any of the men or women, but the Scout Mistress insisted I learn all I could. The only thing no one argued about was the fact that they agreed they wouldn’t allow me the schooling the chiefs received, and women leaders. That no one gave me and I chafed against the restriction.

I also managed to learn through sneaking into portable rooms to look at strange figures. The Scout Mistress actually caught me once and then finally allowed me to learn simply to prevent problems later on if one of the Elders busted me.

I didn’t have a lot of patience with the book learning. It came to me with great difficulty and so I only did it when I knew spies for the Elders wouldn’t catch me at the forbidden lessons. That was difficult and gradually I had to give up on that particular lack in my knowledge base. It grated on me occasionally, but better not be caught reading and writing, than seeing something I shouldn’t.

This evening and dusk, I found I was unable to keep my mind on track. I regarded the children warily. I had no adventuresome tales that I could safely tell to youngsters and very impressionable youngsters at that. All the community of children whom I had to entertain somehow for the next space of time, I chewed my lower lip. At least until an oldster cut me off for thinning their patience with malarkey, which I was astonishingly good at, but gained much disfavor from the oldsters.

I can honestly say that other than the warning, there is nothing new that I came across during my patrols. None that I would fill their ears with although that would shock certain elders spitless if they could read my thoughts, and I didn’t doubt that a few had that skill handy, else body language also gave away various thoughts and reactions on parts of youngsters.

One hand raked through hair tousled and filled with leaves and twigs. I hadn’t bothered to clean up yet but then again no one gave me that chance. I regarded the kids through tired eyes. I wasn’t too thrilled with my assigned task. I didn’t want to create a malarkey tale either and I knew any listener thus far would view it as such also, and I sighed softly, but regarded it as a loathsome duty I despised.

Now I should really speak to them of what I suggested in my words. I pantomimed shocking acts that could happen to the female gender, and some of the males as well. I should also add that no matter what happens in the future, take any suggestions. I lowered my voice somewhat, and focused on the girls. From our elders with a grain of salt, I slanted a gaze particularly at the girls who were closer to my age if not older. I too have sometimes almost gone alone. I folded my arms beneath my jaw and regarded them calmly.

In for a penny, in for a pound of potential ostracization and threats later, I decided without remorse. I highly discourage you from doing so ever if it already happened once. When their eyes widened and glanced elsewhere, I sighed heavily. Some of their attitudes have diverged from what the aims of the caravan once were so I would be very careful of what they would require of you that leaves you alone with them...without witnesses.

What could I relate to them that wouldn’t fill their heads with stupid outrageousness but wouldn’t garner the oldsters’ wrath in the bargain either? There are rituals that adults indulge in that some of us cannot handle as yet. I glanced at the girls as I suspected a few had already begun entering certain activities. None of them would meet my gaze outright, but I caught a few blushes and nervous giggles.

Amelia smirked at me, but her face twisted with anger and fear when she glanced to one side. I dismissed that reaction, and would regret it later. Instead, I continued talking obscurely, which, no doubt didn’t help matters either as far as the listeners concerned. Later a few would complain of my maundering about with no particular pattern laid out for them to follow.

Then again, there’ll always be a few of us that don’t want to follow rules and flout them. I shrugged in disgust. I’ve concluded it is up to the individual’s inclination for pain, deceit, and treachery that’ll go too far, or fall short of expectation and have ruined several futures in the consequences a few months down the path of existence. I shrugged because I couldn’t say more without causing trouble.

An unfortunate imposition on me for this occasion because I had indeed witnessed a few activities that if reported would gain me a beating for spying—no matter that I simply carried out my scouting duties—and would undoubtedly give me an unearned reputation for snooping where not granted permission.

* * * *

Winds whistled through the canopy bringing me unwelcome information. Some eye in the canopy had espied activities best left unknown about and now I dealt with the fallout as usual. Annoyed and sickened because I couldn’t figure out who’d blamed me for the latest deaths, I worried about how this would go over with Myra. I would never knowingly kill a female who could breed children with enough time and patience.

Unfortunately, it looked as if I had some explaining to do and I damned Morley for even suggesting the notion of collars. He’d taken it too far with those embedded spikes. I think he’s just plain insane and should’ve known better than to trust him or take his word as honest when I’d seen evidence pointing out my stupidity on other occasions. Now I had to figure out a way of avoiding giving them a name of who likely espied the scene.

I glanced at the Elders warily because I knew what they wanted. Unfortunately, as I headed toward the main tale-telling fire, I knew I was too late to shut Myra the fool girl up, before she