But it wasn’t surprising that hardly anyone questioned it when Nikrilda received the position.

  To the contrary, many people had insisted upon it; the Gypso woman was an outsider, they argued, so she must be impartial. And if you questioned it or raised any suspicion against Nikrilda, people would freak out.

  Nikrilda stood before the crowd. All was silent except for the pattering rain. Everyone waited in suspense, eager to hear the winners announced, from Fourth place to First.

  After a preliminary speech that seemed to draw a little too much attention to herself, Nikrilda finally declared the winners.

  Steelfarr took Fourth place. The crowd applauded as he strode forward, his head high.

  Third and Second place went to two of Yarolk’s men.

  The spectators applauded again as each of these men came up. But Golin and his men looked increasingly unhappy.

  They wore their thoughts on their faces: if their lot was completely excluded from the awards, there would be trouble.

  Tension hung in the air as Nikrilda turned back to the crowd, preparing to announce the First Place winner.

  Grendel could hardly take the pressure. It felt as if a hurricane was about to sweep everything away. She wanted to run.

  “First Place, the man who proved to be superior in every test … Broden!”

  This should have been no surprise. Everyone knew the young bruiser deserved first place.

  And yet, before Broden even took a step forward, Golin bellowed, “Treachery!”

  Some women tittered nervously, but most people fell into a tense silence.

  Broden paused and turned to Golin, wearing a poker face. Not a soul could tell whether he was angry, afraid, or indifferent.

  “This contest is rigged!” Golin shouted, stabbing the air with his finger. “We all know it. That woman”— he pointed at Nikrilda — “has been given a hand in the determination of the winners. You might as well have allowed Yarolk himself to select the winners, for she is his lover!”

  Many people booed and hissed, although others listened with interest.

  “Let them get on with it, for goodness sake!” Miss Weevol shouted.

  Yarolk raised his hand. “Wait. We cannot continue without addressing these grievances. But I must say, you do great damage to the unity of our people, Golin. Why raise these grievances now?”

  Golin shook his fist. “What? You’d have me wait till the Contest is over — a fading memory. We all know what you’re doing, Yarolk.”

  Yarolk’s eyes darted around. Strangely, although he knew perfectly well that the Contest had been conducted fairly, he had a guilty air about him. Many spectators picked up on it.

  “I’m not doing anything!” Yarolk snapped defensively. “Nobody knows what you’re going on about, Golin!”

  Golin looked around with a sly smirk. “Don’t they? Speak for yourself. It’s perfectly obvious that you rigged this Contest. What are the odds that three of the four winners are your own men?”

  Yarolk might have objected that Broden was from a different bachelor group, but this would have been a trivial point, since the two groups had effectively merged.

  Golin sneered. “You were somewhat clever in not taking one of the spots for yourself, but this doesn’t cover your tracks. And you reserved fourth place for Steelfarr, leader of the other bachelor group, with whom you clearly wish to form a pact.”

  “Nonsense,” Yarolk spat.

  And yet, his conscience was guilty. He felt tainted — not because Golin’s words had any merit, but because of the craven suspicions he harbored against Tex.

  There was treachery in his heart, and he realized for the first time in his life that he could no longer hold his head high knowing he walked the righteous path.

  And so, Yarolk winced at Golin’s words, like a thieving rat caught in a torchlight. “No! It’s … It’s all nonsense!”

  “Is it?” Golin said, making a sarcastic face. “So you don’t mean to shut me out from the chief-selection process? And you have not been plotting with Steelfarr?

  “It’s all a figment of our imaginations, is it? Come now, Yarolk, look me in the eye and say it isn’t true!”

  Yarolk strode towards Golin, enraged. “How dare you make these vile accusations!”

  Golin’s smirk vanished, and he clenched his fists as Yarolk approached him.

  In that instant, when everyone braced for an ugly fight, Grendel glanced at Nikrilda.

  The Gypso woman’s eyes danced with delight as she watched the scene, and her beautiful lips curled into a vindictive grin.

  Chapter fifty-two

  TWO FIGURES EMERGED from Lorelei’s wood—a tall, muscular man in an animal skin wrap and a petite blonde elf.

  Neesha, Grendel, Utu, Zila, and Bmimi erupted with cries of joy, running towards Tex and Emi. The entire Rama tribe followed. Most of them were unreservedly excited to see Tex, but some were still confused and troubled by Nikrilda’s speech.

  The Rama women respectfully allowed Tex to have a moment with his core harem; the girls fell into Tex’s arms. Emi was in the middle; they all embraced her.

  Neesha took Emi’s cheeks in her hands and looked into her eyes. “You look so well! Radiant!”

  Emi beamed. “I’m better, Neesha! I’m all better!”

  “You are?” Neesha breathed. “It’s really true!” She crushed Emi against her chest, hugging her tightly.

  Emi giggled. “Ow, you’re hurting me!”

  The other girls hugged Emi, sharing in her joy. Then Tex lifted his gaze and looked at the tipis and all the men assembled. Grendel, Neesha, and Utu all began tugging at his arm and warning him of the treachery against him.

  But the moment they spoke of it, almost the entire Rama tribe joined in, and Tex could hardly make anything out.

  But he got the gist.

  Bmimi got Tex’s attention by digging her claws into his arm, perhaps unintentionally.

  “Ow!”

  “They want to kill you, Tex. They said so! Yarolk said so.”

  Tex frowned. “Yarolk said they wanted to—”

  “No, no!” she interrupted. “Yarolk said he wants to kill you.”

  Tex shook his head. “That can’t be true.”

  He walked over the field, accompanied by his women, to the place where Yarolk stood with Nikrilda.

  Tex stopped some distance away and eyed Yarolk and his men cautiously. Then he glanced at Golin. The surly leader merely returned Tex’s gaze with a squinty look.

  Broden and several other men stood apart, watching the scene like old-West gunfighters ready to draw.

  “He stayed loyal,” Utu said loudly, pointing at Broden. “He was the only one.”

  The young bruiser glanced at Tex and gave a nod.

  Tex gazed beyond Golin and Yarolk’s men, where Steelfarr and his bachelors stood watching in a somewhat detached manner, like spectators.

  Tex looked at Yarolk. “What’s this all about?”

  Yarolk started. He looked Tex up and down, his chest heaving. Nikrilda spoke softly, almost in his ear.

  Yarolk suddenly wrenched a stone dagger from his belt. There was an insane glint in his eyes that shocked Tex; it was like he was possessed.

  “He doesn’t have his magic instrument!” Yarolk cried, pointing at Tex. “Look! Now’s our time! Follow me, men!”

  Yarolk roared and stepped towards Tex, raising the dagger. Golin grinned maliciously, pulling a club from his belt.

  The women screamed. Some men hesitated, but many others followed Yarolk with bloodlust in their eyes.

  The women crowded around Tex like mother bears, but he spread out his arms, ordering them to back off. They obeyed.

  Yarolk charged forward and raised his dagger above his head. Tex merely raised his hand. Yarolk’s arm jerked backwards, and the dagger flung from his fist, landing on the grass. He looked at it in disbelief.

  “What … How ….”

  Golin narrowed his eyes and looked at the dagger on the ground. Yarolk stooped to pick it up, but Tex spread his fingers again, and the dagger shot up into the air, clipping Yarolk on the forehead.

  Tex pushed on the dagger again, sending it higher into the air. Everyone gazed up, watching as the dagger peaked and then fell back to the ground.

  Yarolk touched his head, where blood gushed down. “M-magic. You have … real magic … But how?”

  Broden scoffed. “You have truly lost your faculties, Yarolk. The answer to your question should be obvious. Tex has just come from the Isle of Shayla. Emi is cured; this is a miracle. Shayla has favored him. The prophecy is being fulfilled.”

  Yarolk’s hands trembled. He choked. “Is … Is it true? The goddess has given you … magic?”

  Tex nodded. “The goddess has given me a gift, and I will use it in the coming fight.”

  Nikrilda raised her hands. “Don’t be fooled. Remember what I told you; he is a liar.”

  Tex raised his eyebrow at Nikrilda, looking her up and down. “And who is this charming lady?”

  Grendel suddenly rushed forward and stared at Nikrilda, frowning and clenching her fists.

  Nikrilda gave her a quizzical look, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

  Trembling, Grendel shouted a strange word at Nikrilda. It sounded like “Adlerkin.”

  Nikrilda’s face fell. She raised her hands, almost pleadingly.

  “What? No! Don’t say that word, child. Never say that word …”

  Encouraged, Grendel took another step towards her. “Adlerkin!” she shouted again.

  Nikrilda threw her hands over her ears, her face twisting in fear. “Please! Somebody stop her. She’s a demon! She’s possessed!”

  Yarolk strode towards Grendel. “Stop it!”

  Tex raised his hand against Yarolk, but before they came to blows, Grendel ran right up to Nikrilda and yelled the word a third time.

  “Adlerkin!”

  An inhuman scream pierced the air. It sounded more like a pterodactyl than a human, but it came from Nikrilda. Everyone turned to her, aghast.

  Nikrilda still pressed her hands against her ears. Her face contorted almost beyond recognition, and deep wrinkles appeared in her forehead and cheeks, as if she’d suddenly aged 40 years.

  Yarolk let out a cry and staggered back in revulsion.

  Everyone else did likewise, pushing against one another to get away from Nikrilda.

  A foul vapor wafted off of her skin, making a hissing sound as cracks opened up, revealing a red, leathery texture beneath.

  “No,” she moaned. “It isn’t … fair.”

  The smell of burning skin filled the air. Nikrilda’s clothes fell away, and her flesh smoldered and curled like paper thrown into a fire. Yarolk’s mouth hung agape, his eyes opening wide as he watched Nikrilda’s skin burn away.

  A pair of ragged wings spread open; they were naked, like a bat’s. A fiendish creature stood before them: bald head, flashing red eyes, a lipless jaw with long teeth. Long, deflated breasts hung down to its thighs.

  Many of the women ran for the village, screaming in terror. Others gathered behind Tex, pleading for his protection.

  Golin, for once, had lost his smug grin. He raised a shaking hand and wiped sweat from his pallid forehead.

  Grendel still stood in front of the fiend, now possessed of a strange confidence, like a lion tamer.

  Yarolk looked at her unblinkingly. “What … What is this ghoulish thing?”

  “I don’t know,” Grendel said. “Lorelei only told me to say her name backwards three times, and then I would have the power to send her away.”

  “I am not a thing,” Ndunu screamed. “I am an angel.”

  This provoked some dark laughter from the men, despite their horror.

  The ghastly creature looked around. “Don’t laugh at me! It’s true! I … I was an angel. One of the most beautiful in heaven. I was wronged — imprisoned in the Underworld. That’s why I look the way I do!”

  The fiend held out its mangled hands towards Grendel. “Please…. Please don’t send me back there. I beg you.”

  The sight was so pitiable that Grendel felt sorry, and she hesitated. Sending her back to wherever she came from — almost certainly the Underworld — seemed cruel.

  But Neesha strode to her side. “Do it. Send her back, quickly, before she gets inside your head. She is surely one of the Fallen — one of the former angels who joined the Dark Lord in his attempt to overthrow Solis.”

  “Yes,” the creature said, huddling before Grendel. “I am Ndunu. We did try to overthrow Solis because he is a tyrant. Please! I was wronged!”

  Grendel heard the self-pity in her voice, and she perceived her real motivations. Ndunu was completely self-centered. She worshiped herself. She would grovel when it suited her, and then stab anyone in the back without a thought.

  “Send her back!” Neesha urged. “She’s here to serve the Necromancer. He is surely the one who summoned her.”

  “No!” Ndunu said. “That isn’t true. I escaped on my own.”

  “Well, you’ve unraveled Tex’s alliance, so you’re helping the Necromancer, whether he summoned you or not.”

  “Of course she is!” Emi said, striding forward. “The Underworld wants the Necromancer to prevail because they want the world to descend into chaos and misery.”

  Grendel pointed her finger at the fallen angel. “In the name of Solis, I send thee back!”

  Chapter fifty-three

  NDUNU LET OUT a demonic shriek. Her ghoulish form dissolved into a black, wraithlike form. It rose into the air, as if to escape. But an unseen force sucked it down to the ground.

  The black, smoky form appeared to struggle desperately to stay above ground, but it soon disappeared entirely into the dirt, leaving no trace behind.

  The air seemed lighter.

  Everyone sensed the fiend was gone.

  In the immediate aftermath of Ndunu’s defeat, a new political landscape quickly took shape.

  Yarolk was utterly disgraced. He was no longer recognized as the leader of his bachelor group, and the Weevol women disavowed him, reverting back to being without a chief.

  Yarolk himself plunged into sorrow. He presented himself to Tex, acknowledging his guilt and saying that he would accept whatever punishment Tex meted out.

  Tex harbored no desire to see Yarolk executed. His record was spotless, and his mind had been under the sway of a demon.

  These were mitigating factors, as far as Tex was concerned.

  But many disagreed.

  No one doubted that Yarolk’s remorse was genuine, but that didn’t stop some people from demanding his execution.

  Oddly, the most vehement calls for his death came from the very people who had most fervently turned against Tex.

  Their motive was obvious, as far as Tex was concerned: they wanted to use Yarolk as a scapegoat to absolve their own guilt.

  Tex wasn’t letting them get away with that.

  “Don’t forget, Yarolk was not the only one enthralled by Ndunu,” he told the mob.

  “I have not yet decided what Yarolk’s punishment will be. But I tell you this: if we execute Yarolk, we execute everyone who betrayed me.”

  This silenced the mob. The calls for Yarolk’s head dwindled considerably after that.

  Steelfarr and Golin boldly declared that their positions had not changed, and they stood by everything they’d said. Even if Shayla had given him real magic, they still maintained that he was not the Prophesied Hero.

  However, neither man appeared in a rush to leave. This was obviously because the Weevol women were up for grabs again.

  Tex did not lose sight of his mission. He needed to unite the Aramantha as quickly as possible. Therefore — while not wanting to appear weak — he decided the most pragmatic thing was to show forbearance, rather than trying to punish the leaders.

  The latter course of action would result in inter-tribal warfare, taking him in the exact opposite direction of his quest.

  With this in mind, Tex called for an immediate conference of the leaders, right there in the field.

  Steelfarr and Golin listened warily as Broden gave Tex a rundown of all that had happened since he was gone, and the most recent intelligence collected by the scouts.

  Afterwards, Golin and Steelfarr both declared that they would leave Fimm soon, before Kdar Tol’s arrival.

  “We are not suicidal, and therefore, we are leaving immediately,” Steelfarr said.

  Despite this promise, however, they lingered to hear Grendel give her account of Nikrilda. How she’d seen her in the woods, speaking with the dark, sinister figure. How she’d prayed for Lorelei’s help and received it.

  And that wasn’t all Lorelei did, Grendel revealed.

  “She gave me something.” Reaching into her animal skin pocket, Grendel pulled out two green stones.

  “Lorelei gave me these. They’re healing stones. She said she hoped we … wouldn’t need them.”

  Emi came forward and looked at the stones. “These are very potent,” she said, taking them up. “I can feel their power.”

  Tex ‘s eyes widened. Good! he thought to himself. This means we don’t have to rely entirely on Emi to do the healing.

  As Grendel finished her part, Golin began fidgeting. He was clearly waiting for the moment to make his exit.

  “Well, that’s it then!” he exclaimed after Grendel had finished.

  The rain had stopped, and the yellow sun was shining on the wet grass.

  Golin looked up at the sky. “The clouds have parted, and so shall we. There’s plenty of daylight left. It will be a pleasant journey back home.”

  He turned to the Weevol tribe with a galant flourish. “Miss Weevol, I humbly offer you my protection. Come with us, I beseech thee. It will be much safer in our village.”

  Steelfarr and his men shifted nervously, rage boiling in their faces.

  But Tex stepped forward. “Hold on, Golin. You’re not going anywhere.”

  He sighed. I can’t believe I have to do this.

  It was the only option left. Tex was about to challenge Fogu to a duel for leadership of the Houlo tribe. Then, of course, he intended to open them up to yet another leadership contest.