Chapter Four
A full week had passed, and Boongar felt his muscles were ready again.
He and Gishky were in the holding bay, surrounded by snarling monsters, the air heavy with the scent of their musk. Boongar watched the gate waiting for it to open while Gishky massaged his shoulders.
“Don’t let the next monster get close to you,” she said. “You might be able to break free this time.”
“I know,” said Boongar. He wore his usual attire, however this time, he made a few adjustments to his weapon. He got a tapering blade attached to the end of his spear, increasing the area of contact. He also brought along a machete. It was a typical one used for farm use, but Boongar sharpened it and decided it could eb used for hacking flesh just the same. Gishky, though not privy to everything, let Brack in on the different monsters usually used within the arena, and Boongar deduced what the C-Class monsters would be.
The coordinator came over to them and said, “Your match is in three minutes.”
Gishky nodded at her. She pinched Boongar’s cheeks and said, “Get ready.”
When the time came, they heard the announcement of the match, and Boongar heard his name called with the crowd shouting in approval.
Gishky, smiling like an excited little child, patted Boongar’s back. “It looks like they like you.”
Boongar took out his spear and rest it against his shoulder. “I will make the Ekandel clan proud.” The gates lifted open with the rattling of chains, and Boongar made his way outside to the loud embrace of the audience.
Then the announcer said, “And now, for our second combatant. A crowd favorite. We have not one, not two, but three wranglers ready to do battle.”
Boongar looked in the direction of where the announcer was as if he meant to confront her. He’d seen one wrangler in battle already; a nasty fiend they were. But to do battle with three of them seemed a tad mad. Even Gishky felt uncomfortable, and she tried not to get up and go to the coordinator. Boongar had weapons, he had the upper hand. It was what Gishky tried to make herself believe.
The other gate open and the three creatures scampered out, alternating between their feet and all fours. They sniffed the air, salivating with the prospect of having a meal They were purposefully starved for two days in order to increase their tenacity, and they wasted no time in descended upon Boongar.
Boongar whirled the spear around him, creating a makeshift barrier while skipping around so they didn’t flank him. The three monsters tried but the moving blade kept them at bay, however Boongar couldn’t keep it up forever. One of the wranglers went low and started swiping and Boongar’s feet. The boy kicked at it, but the wrangler was persistent. Another one made a lunge that startled Boongar, and he hopped away. Then all of them attacked at once.
Boongar roared and swung the spear in a wide arc, cutting one across the arm and driving the others back. One ducked beneath the blade and leaped at his feet. Brack kicked it in the face but felt its teeth poked into his foot. Boongar winced and twirled the spear, halting the advance of the other two. One of them made a feint that forced Boongar to jump, and knowing he couldn’t move in the air the other two leaped after him. They pressed Boongar down, but he wasn’t going to be overpowered like the last time—he catapulted one wrangler off him with both feet, and swung the spear at the feet of the another one, tripping it. Boongar folded his feet over him and flung them forward, flipping onto his feet.
The wrangler with the blooded mouth came for Boongar’s neck. The boy ducked, grabbed the wrangler as it leaped across his back, and tossed it over, quickly following up by plunging the spear into its chest. The other wranglers came snarling with claws flying. Boongar jabbed with the spear, keeping them back. He did a feint, and a wrangle bit the bait and came after his exposed arms. Boongar quickly spun and clapped it in the back of the head, then stretched the entire length of the spear and impaled the other monster in its throat. Blood spurted from tits neck and it collapsed. Boongar did a huge step over to the last wrangler and knocked it in the head with the blunt end of the spear, incapacitating the derlkia right before Boongar swung the blade around and sliced open the wrangler’s throat.
Upon seeing the last wrangler fall, the crowd got up and congratulated Boongar the noisy way. But none as much as Gishky, who knew that in addition she would be getting paid as well.
Boongar returned to the holding bay where Gishky, bouncing up and down, hugged him and lifted him off the ground. “Boongar you bastard! I didn’t know you had it in you!”
When Gishky finally put Boongar down, he said, “They weren’t very smart. It was easy to bait them into my attacks.”
Gishky said, “Whatever! I’m just glad you won!” She looked around. “Now where’s that ass with my money?”
The boss’ advisor approached them, and handed Gishky an envelope. Gishky said her goodbyes, stating to the coordinator that she would be scheduling their third match for next week. It was midday when they left the arena, and the two had plenty of time to themselves before going home. They used it to walk around the market, especially Boongar who wanted to familiarize himself with the area. A vendor selling dried fruits caught their attention and they stopped and purchased some. As Gishky bought her bag of the sweet treats, Boongar stood and looked around, chewing on some dried peaches. His eye caught a newspaper stand at the front of a leather shop behind a glass case and looked at it, then sudden surge of alertness stiffened his back.
Boongar went up the steps and peered into the case. The newspaper had the black and white image of a group of humans and ferrans in handcuffs, being escorted away by the police. But it was the headline that had got his attention.
“Slave Traders Caught. Massive Underground Sex Ring Uncovered In Tatanui!”
“What’s that?” said Gishky, peering over the boy’s shoulder.
Boongar spun around, then back to the paper and pointed at it. “Look at it,” he said. “These men are slave traders.”
Gishky read the paper, after which she said, “People like that are all over the place but they hide very well. It’s best to avoid when you see them. They like taking children.”
Gishky saw an intense glimmer in Boongar’s eyes, and knew what he was trying to inquire about. It was then confirmed when Boongar said, “Do…Do you think that my people were taken to places like this…?”
Gishky said, running her hand reassuring across his cheek. “We already spoke about this, Boongar. There’s no guarantee that you’ll ever see them again.”
Boongar slapped her hand away. “Don’t say that!”
Gishky froze, a bit startled. The eyes of a few bystanders were already hovering their direction, and Gishky wasn’t in the mood to make a scene. She said to Boongar, “We’ll talk about it when we reach home. I’ll buy the paper and read through it.”
The woman’s quick acquiesce to his concerns frightened Boongar, alleviating his frustration. “Thanks.”
Then Gishky said, “Just make sure that aggression you have you can use in the next fight.”
Her words carried a warning tone, to which Boongar understood. When Gishky had the store owner open the case and sell her the newspaper, she and Boongar took a truck and went straight home to their forest.
As they walked home from the bus stop, Gishky started skipping through the pages. Boongar looked across at her from time to time, walking with his hands in his pockets. His little outburst and Gishky’s innocent reply made him feel guilty, and Boongar said, “Sorry I got angry at you.”
Gishky said, “Nothing to worry about. Still, I keep on forgetting you’re just a silly human child.”
Boongar said, “I don’t think all of them are dead.”
Gishky said, “Knowing the Red Jackals, the men of your tribe are mostly likely as good as dead. The women and girls would be sold as sex slaves and breeders. The boys too if they look pretty enough.”
Boongar grimaced. “R-Really? They do that?”
“Just be thankful you’re dealing with monsters,” said Gishky.
Boongar said, “But if I survived the waters, maybe others did. Right?”
Gishky rolled up the paper. “I can’t say. I only found you.”
But you didn’t check the other side of the river, Boongar thought. But he assumed Gishky heard enough of his questions, so he didn’t ask. Instead, having met that derlkia a few days ago that managed to pass the barrier, Boongar was interested in the Shaded Boscage. He hadn’t been back there since they day Gishky found him
They reached their community, and saw Donkek driving a quacycle, towing along a cart covered with a tarp. But Gishky and Boongar knew the items were weapons Donkek was going to deliver. Spotting his favorite girl, Donkek waved at them. Boongar was the one who waved back, and to which Donkek frowned at him in disgust, which made Gishky chuckle. After getting settled inside Gishky busied herself with the newspaper, while Boongar read his bestiary.
He read about the marionot, how they liked to entice young boys only to kill them. Boongar remembered just how lucky he was not to have followed the marionot inside the boscage, thanking the ancestors Ki’zap was there. The electite was starting warm his heart being around him, and excite his penis.
His thoughts back on the forest, Boongar’s mind dwelt on the monsters and spirits lurking inside. They presented a difficult hurdle to get across if he wanted to go back to the river and find any clues. The memories of his tribe couldn’t be suppressed. It felt like just yesterday his father was teaching him how to craft tools, and his mother was preparing pies for them.
The call of the Shaded Boscage beckoned, and Boongar decided he would answer the call. Boongar went to Gishky’s curtain, knocking on the wall next to it.
“What is it?” she replied.
“Do you know anything about charmtags?” Boongar said.
“Charmtags? Get in here?” Gishky said.
Boongar pulled the curtain, just in time to get a glimpse of Gishky’s crotch before she lowered her leg. Gishky tried to skip over the awkwardness by saying, “What do you want with charmtags?”
“I’m planning on going into the Boscage,” said Boongar.
Gishky said, “You’re not planning to go looking for anything, are you?”
Boongar knew what she had in mind, but had prepared his excuse. “I want to know how to fight stronger monsters in preparation for my next fight. I want more money—and I’m interested in knowing more about derlkia.”
Gishky could smell an underlying intent in Boongar’s voice, but didn’t want to probe further. He was right; they would need more money. “That place is more dangerous than an arena Boongar.”
“Which is why it would make great practice,” Boongar said. “If I can fight the monsters in there, the arena will be easy.”
Gishky said, “You think you’re slick, Boongar, but I’m onto you. Fine then. If you must know, I get charmtags from a woman named Oboye. She lives on Grassfoot Lane.”
“There?” Boongar said. “I’ve never been that side before.”
“Not much there anyways,” said Gishky. “Just about five homes, including hers. She can use spirit energy—she’s also the one who made the charms that keep the residents from the Shaded Boscage from getting out.”
Boongar realized the possible encounter would be different that a regular run-of-the-mill visit to a merchant. “She sounds important.”
“And values her time,” said Gishky. “If you’re going to get charmtags its going to cost you a lot. Five hundred galasi for one tag.”
Boongar recoiled. “That much?”
Gishky smiled. “I hope you’ve been saving your money.”
“I sure have,” Boongar said. “Thanks, Gishky. I’ll go see her this evening.” Boongar half-turned his body when something else came to mind. “Gishky?”
“…Yes?” She looked up with a slight scowl.
“You never told me about your life,” Boongar said.
Gishky scoffed and skipped the page in the newspaper. “You will in time. When you’re older and can better understand. Now run off and go find your witch.”
Boongar left Gishky alone, now planning his next move. After a brief rest Boongar put on his gear and left the house. Gishky had started cooking, so Boongar was expecting to come home to a meal. Then his mind went back on Ki’zap, wondering how she was doing. He’d contemplated having her tag along, but remembered the ferrans still considered her kind a nuisance.
Boongar went back on the street, passing a ferran female carrying a sack of fish. Boongar had seen her around, heard her name was Joyce. She never really replied to him, but they often exchanged awkward looks, as if she wanted to greet the human but couldn’t. Boongar continued along the road until he reached the start of Grassfoot Lane. This side of the forest had less trees, and almost all of them had dark trunks and widely splayed branches. Small saplings grew around them, along with various bushes, but most of the area was grassland, though having a few slopes and mounds.
As Boongar walked down the road he saw the first house, one surrounded by a wooden fence. He saw the residents outside tending to the yard; a woman watering her garden and a man and their son cutting down the grass from around the yard. They stopped and looked at Boongar as he passed, and the boy waved at him. The father ordered everyone back to work. Boongar noted the unfriendly air of that household and made it a note to avoid them.
The second house Boongar passed had what resembled mesh around the posts that squared off the yard from the rest of the surroundings. The house was a single story, but very tall and constructed of polished oak. Boongar didn’t see anyone, however he noticed a plethora of skulls mounted above the door and on posts in the middle of the yard, leading Boongar to believe a skilled hunter resided there.
“I wonder who it is?” he murmured. Boongar thought about stopping to inquire until he decided meeting Oboye took precedence.
The third home, one with a domed roof and a sign in the front yard that read “Lumber Being Sold,” garnered Boongar’s interest, primarily because there was a smoking chimney in the roof, indicating someone was home. Boongar carefully approached the gate, looking to see any anomalies in the yard. He then said, “Hello? Is anyone there?” Boongar waited a while before calling again, and the answer came when the door opened.
A nandibear walked out, wearing a simple lavender tunic. Boongar had heard about nandibears before. A particular breed of ferrans with stout, muscular bodies built like a bear’s, however her face was wide with human features. Her fur, unlike the usually brown, was a light shade of grey. She walked out of the house with axe in hand, slinging it over her shoulder. She seemed surprised by Boongar, however her movements were leisurely as if she had nothing to fear.
Boongar lifted his head, looking up at the six feet tall female, trying to look pass her huge breasts to see her face—despite how enticing they were.
“Can I help you little boy?” she said.
“Umm…Good afternoon,” said Boongar. “I’m looking for Oboye. Do you know where she lives?”
“Why would you be looking for a witch?” she said. “And what’s a human doing around here all by yourself.”
The boy said, “My name is Boongar, son of Bangor Ekandel. My tribe was raided for years ago. I’m the only one that’s left”
The story hit the woman like a ton of bricks and she shifted her feet nervously. “Wait, do you know a woman named Gishky?”
Boongar nodded. “I live with her. She found me after I escaped.”
The nandibear’s whole expression lightened. “Ah, so you’re that boy they say she found! I never thought I’d actually get to see you for real.”
“How do you know Gishky?” said Boongar.
The woman said, “Oh, she passes by here a few times when she wants charmtags. We don’t talk much, but, we’re both independent women, so we have to stick together. Are you buying them for her?”
“For myself,” said Boongar. “Sometimes I see derlkia when I go hunting.”
“I see,” she said. The nandibear pointed in the direction where a small cluster of trees were. “Oboye lives there.”
“Thank you,” said Boongar.
“My name is Rinsel,” she said. “If you ever need any firewood you can visit met. I also make axes and swords too.”
Weapons! The thought delighted Boongar. “Sure. I’ll see you later Rinsel.”
Boongar crossed the street and went to the house. The trees heavily shaded the house, contrasting the sunny scene around it. Boongar looked up, having noticed charmtags hanging from trees, along with crude looking dolls. Logs severed down the middle were laid in the ground to create a path for one to walk, which led to the cabin. More charms were hung on each angle of the roof, and the whole building seemed to be standing on a thick, wooden frame supported by for legs. Boongar went up the steps leading to the door, and timidly knocked on it.
“H-Hello?” he said. “Miss Oboye are you there?”
Boongar was soon met with footsteps on the other side. A latch in the door pulled aside and aa air of large yellow eyes stared at Boongar. The eyes pulled away and the latch closed, then the door opened.
Boongar took a step back as a long bodied ferran stood in the doorframe. She wore a frock with pink and black swirls and wrapped a stuffed cloth around her waist. She was reptilian in appearance with scaly skin, and a broad head crowed her long neck. Boongar saw the various bands around her arm and neck, and noticed a tapering tail swaying behind her.
“Hello,” the boy said. “My name is Boongar. I came here to buy charms—charmtags.”
The woman fitted her head wrap, and a forked tongue flicked out of her mouth. “A human,” she said. “We don’t see your kind around these parts.”
Boongar said, “I’m a friend of Gishky. I live with her.”
Oboye stretched her neck, putting her face close to Boongar’s. She sniffed his neck and behind his ear, then licked his cheek.
Boongar recoiled. “What was that for?”
Oboye retracted her neck, staring wide eyed at Boongar. “Awwww. You’re spirit force is strong little one.”
Boongar said, “My, spirit force?”
“Yes,” she said. “It runs deep in your blood. Gishky knows a boy like you?”
Boongar explained to her the circumstances of how he came to be with Gishky, and Oboye said, “I see. You come from that clan.”
Boongar said, “You know about my people?”
Oboye said, “Take off your shoes and come inside.”
Boongar did as he was told, and followed her into a small living room. The sunlight provided little luminance, and was aided by a jar filled with glowing worms hung in the corner. There was a skeletal bench with brown cushion across a desk where a pitcher of water stood, along with strange looking figurines. There was a curtain leading to the back that Oboye pulled and crossed through. Boongar got a little glimpse of her bottom despite her tail getting in the way.
Oboye returned with a huge box and placed it on the table. “Are you a hunter?”
“Yes,” Boongar said.
“Ah.” Oboye pulled a cloth from off the box and took out a stack of paper. “The Ekandel are known for being good hunters and fighters. I wondered if any of them survived besides you.”
Boongar said, “How do you know my people?” Boongar realized he sounded demanding and soften his next words. “I would really like to know.”
Oboye looked with a wide smile, exposing her many fine teeth. “Not every man or woman sticks with the tribe. Sometimes some of them venture out of the cage. Birds looking for fresh fruits and somewhere to roost.”
Boongar said, “Some of our men would go on hunting trips for weeks, speaking about many strange things they encountered. That’s how we learned about the beast people. The ferrans.”
Oboye said, “Enough! You came here for charmtags, not for stories.” Oboye took her seat next to Boongar and held one of the charmtags to his face. Boongar was observing the intricacies when Oboye said, “Do you know how a charmtag works, boy?”
Boongar shook his head.
“Ah,” Oboye replied. “Oblivious to magic, despite it being a part of your blood. But I guess all the others died before they could teach you. However, you don’t need magic to use these. When charmtags are made, we use our magic to give it orders.” She took Boongar’s hand and place one of them in it. She pressed her finger against it and light sparked. The energy ran up Boongar’s arm and he jerked at the sensation.
“What was that?” said Boongar.
“Now the magic responds to you,” Oboye said. “Throw the tag on any derlkia you see and it will seal them away from a day. But with monsters of pure flesh and blood, it holds only for four to five hours. Make sure to use it on the dangerous ones, as it is only a one-time use.”
Boongar said, “Thank you.”
“And boy, if you see the dark trees, avoid them,” Oboye said.
“The dark trees…” said Boongar.
“They are the reason I created the charms,” Oboye said. “Many persons have gone into the Boscage, drawn to the stories about it. They say a wizard once died there, and ever since the forest has been haunted by him. Those who went never came back. Most of the derlkia there were made from their soul-fragments.”
Chills went up Boongar’s spine. “The wizard…who was he?”
Oboye shrugged. “I don’t know.” She got up and went to the table. “I only heard he died there. But being a witch, I could tell a nasty presence lurks there.”
Then Boongar said, “I saw a girl there. She came out of the Boscage and was looking at me.:
Oboye dropped the pitcher on the table, it wobbled but steadied itself. “What?” She leaped onto Boongar on the couch, pinning him down by his shoulders. “Who was it? Was it really a girl or a derlkia?”
Boongar said, “My friend said it was a derlkia. But it looked like a regular human girl to me. She wore a mask made from glass…”
Oboye got off Boongar and scratched her head with a vexed look. “A human in the boscage?”
“Is it bad news?” Boongar said.
Oboye took the cup of water off the table and gave it to Boongar. “A human living in the woods, untouched by the evil there…” Oboye nodded her head with a hum. “This maybe something you need to look out for boy.”
Boongar put the water to his head and drank it. “I sure will. I’m trying to prepare.”
Their conversation didn’t last long, and Boongar soon paid for the four charmtags. However, Oboye gave Boongar a fifth one for free, which Boongar thanked with a hug. Boongar left her home and made his way back home. This time though, upon pass the house with numerous skulls on the wall, Boongar finally spotted who’d put down all those animals, and Boongar froze upon seeing her.
A female with an hour-glass figure placed the skull of curayog on a pike. She wore a one-piece suit, dark blue with leather padding on the shoulder and hems with a belt tied around her waist holding various implements for cutting, stabbing and snaring. She was a lean built, covered in very thin orange fur, and instead of a human the ferran had features of a cat, mostly the ears eyes and nose, with cropped black hair on her head.
Boongar absently stopped and stared, his mouth slightly agape. His teenage hormones stirred again by the sight of her firm ass, though the breasts were lacking.
The woman took off her arm bracers—then swiftly turned her attention to Boongar. Her green eyes narrowed at him, and Boongar felt a prick in his back that made him stiffen. He quickly walked away, keeping his eye ahead of him and as he returned home. Boongar rested for the rest of the day, jerking himself off that night when Gishky went out with her friends, and woke up the next day ready to embark on the journey.
He gathered all the necessary equipment, made it clear to Gishky his plan to return, and left. However Boongar a stop to his usual spot, and waiting on his friend to arrive. Soon Ki’zap arrived, wearing an excited smile.
“Boongar!” she leaped into his arms. “How was your battle?”
“I won,” he said. “I fought three wranglers and beat them all.”
Ki’zap nodded. “Just like a true fighter.” Ki’zap unslung her bow. “Ki’zap has been practicing. Ki’zap can shoot well.”
“So quickly?” Boongar said.
Ki’zap pounded her chest between her breasts. “Ki’zap is a warrior too. Those of our clan who venture out must learn how to fight.”
Boongar looked at her chest, then said, “I want to give you something.” Boongar handed her two of the charmtags.
Ki’zap looked at them curiously. “What are these for.”
Boongar said, “They’re charmtags for stopping monsters and derlkia. I plan to go through the boscage today.”
Ki’zap shuddered. “You want to go there?”
Boongar nodded. “I’m trying to find who that girl was we saw.” Boongar saw the worry on the little ferran’s face. He held her shoulder. “If you think it’s too dangerous, you don’t have to come with me.”
Ki’zap nodded. “I will stay at the entrance; in case you don’t come back. Ki’zap can go call for help.”
Boongar looked at her with surprise. Not even he had considered that option. Then Ki’zap gave him back the charmtags and said, “You need these more.”
Boongar took them and said, “Yeah. You’re right. Now let’s get going.”
When Boongar and Ki’zap returned to the mouth of the Shaded Boscage, both looked at its depths apprehensively. Boongar patted Ki’zap’s shoulder and said, “I’ll be back.”
“You better come back,” Ki’zap said.
Boongar placed the charmtags in a pocked on his waist for easy access. He took the spear off his back and rested it across his shoulder, and took his first step into the boscage. Technically, Boongar hadn’t been here in four years since Gishky found him, however there was no nostalgia walking through its foreboding trees and underbrush. Numerous insects flew around Boongar and ran through the dark soil, and strange creaks, croaks and wailings could be heard from unseen animals.
Boongar then spotted his first creatures, or creatures rather, and paused next to a tree and tightened the grip on his spear. The other presence that put him on alert was a massive centipede, almost two meters in length with a ruddy color. However it was the head of the creature that startled Boongar, as it resembled that of a female with full lips. She, as Boongar assumed its gender, was eating flowers, possibly for its nectar.
Boongar didn’t know if it was monster or ferran, as the human face confused him, so Boongar tried talking to it. “Hello?”
The centipede stopped and looked around. It spotted Boongar. The young man waved at it, and the centipede reared up half of its body.
“How are you?” he said.
The centipede swiftly lowered itself and scurried out of sight. Boongar stood there wondering about it. At least he knew that particular creature wasn’t hostile, and he continued. Boongar marked a tree with a large circle and an arrow within it, and encountered two more of the giant centipedes. He communicating with them again before they ran away.
Then when Boongar came upon another tree to use as a marker, he heard rustling behind him. Boongar spun around just in time to see something running away. It was bipedal, with long black hair trailing behind it.
“The girl.” Boongar took the spear off his shoulder and went to give chase, but suddenly stopped himself. Running after that girl would lead him right into her trap if there was ever one. Boongar relaxed and decided to move on. Gishky said there was a river straight head, and once he could mark a suitable path and map it, Boongar could make further explorations.
Boongar sheathed the spear and took out his machete, using it to chop the bushes in his way. He kept an eye out for the stick insects Gishky mentioned she encountered, and Boongar did in fact pass two of them during his trek. Boongar found another smooth tree and marked it, and just as Boongar was walking he spotted it. A chest just lying there in the dirt next to a rock.
“Huh?” Boongar looked around just to make sure no one else where around and had accidentally dropped it. “What’s this doing here?”
Boongar crept close and knelt over it. The wooden chest had a few chips and rust on the metal frame, but there was no lock, or a semblance of where one would be needed. Boongar had heard that numerous people had passed through the boscage and met their demise, so he surmised this must’ve been one of their leftovers.
Boongar smiled. “Free money!”
He reached for it then stopped himself. Something was strange about it. Boongar picked up a raw scent coming from it, like that of flesh. Boongar looked carefully once more for anymore oddities, now finding what looked like two nostrils above the chest. The boy even felt a tingly sensation one would feel from being near something, and just as Boongar stood up, twos talks with yellow eyes popped out of the top.
Boongar yelped and leaped away. The dirt mound rouse and broke apart, revealing a wiry body with lime green skin, clawed feet and arms and a musc