Hero of Nira

Tooth and Nail

   “If you kill me, you bring about your own doom...”

   “This is your end, monster!”

   “No wait! Don’t kill him!”

   Shri awoke with a start, almost falling off the branch he was sitting on. It was the same dream again. He shook his head, trying to throw off the lingering heaviness of sleep.

   For the past ten days, he dreamt of a dark hall. There were people in it, and he was one of them. One of the others—a girl—was rushing forward to kill a man dressed in gold. Shri knew that something bad would happen if she succeeded, but he never got to see what happened next. He would always wake up before blood was drawn.

   A sudden noise snapped his senses back into the present. It came again—a soft sound, like someone stepping on cloth, but Shri’s ears detected it nonetheless. He peered about with his sharp blue eyes, drawing his grey cloak closer around him with one hand and clutching his spear with the other.

   Finally, the source of the noise appeared. An animal was stalking along under Shri’s oak tree. It was catlike, large and tawny colored, and prowled along on four padded feet, twitching its long dark tail. Shri knew he had to remain completely still. Forest lions do have sharp senses, after all. It would be lucky if the creature didn’t already smell him, and he had no desire to fight an animal twice his size head-on.

   Slowly, as if tracking a prey animal, the lion moved forward. Its cruel, clawed paws made little sound over the thick forest floor.

   Just a little farther, Shri willed towards the lion. The beast continued to inch forward, obviously trying to be stealthy. Shri smiled; his lure must be working.

   Time seemed to stop as the lion came right under his tree. Shri’s heart was in his throat as he leaned over the edge of the branch, glaring down at the beast. His grip on the spear tightened until the wood shaft felt ready to snap. With his free hand, he reached for the rope lain carefully on a broken branch nearby. He focused his gaze on a small depression in the ground, praying the beast wouldn’t notice the half-buried circle.

   The lion took another step and Shri sprang to action. Seizing the rope, he leapt off the branch and plummeted to the ground. On the other end of the line, a knot slipped around one of the forest lion’s rear legs. It yowled in alarm as its leg was dragged out from under it and hoisted into the air. Shri’s sudden drop was enough to lift the entire back end of the lion off the ground.

   As soon as Shri landed, he threw the loop on his end of the rope around the root of a fallen tree, holding the lion fast. The beast was roaring and snarling with rage and pain, clawing at the ground to free itself.

   Shri wasted no time in launching the spear right at the animal.

   In a split second, the combined force of the lion’s efforts and the decay of the wood caused the root to snap and the rope to drop. The lion’s body slammed into the ground, right under the path of Shri’s weapon. The spear grazed the beast’s shoulder as it passed, but caused no serious damage.

   Shri froze as the lion heaved itself to its feet, turning its vicious yellow eyes on him. Snarling, the lion advanced.

   Without thinking, Shri scrambled up the nearest tree. He had only just pulled himself up before the lion’s black claws slashed up at him. He was out of reach, but he knew he couldn’t stay there forever, and forest lions don’t give up easily. He needed a way out.

   Or at least to his spear.

   He searched around for his weapon, hoping it had not gone far.

   He was in luck; the spear had lodged itself in an old birch directly behind where the lion had been caught—right next to the tree Shri was now sitting in.

   Shri glanced down at the lion, which was now pacing impatiently, staring up with pure hatred in its eyes. Every now and then it would come over and place its fore paws on the tree trunk as if testing how high Shri’s branch was. Shri could feel the trunk straining under the weight.

   Shri’s heart was pounding. He would only get one chance to do this, and failure meant sure death. He carefully judged the distance, occasionally sizing up the lion.

   In one swift move Shri leapt from the tree, hit the ground at a roll, and seized the spear handle. He wrenched the weapon from the tree and whirled around to face the charging lion, just in time.

   The lion had no time to react before it fell on Shri and the razor-sharp spearhead.

   Shri rolled out of the way as the lion landed with a heavy thump, writhing in agony, flailed its claws in every direction. It yowled and roared and foamed, its fur becoming steadily redder. Finally, the beast’s movements stopped.

   Wiping blood from his face, Shri tugged the broken spear from the lion’s quiet body. He glanced up at the sky through the trees and laughed out loud, more out of nervous relief than from amusement. He unsheathed a small dagger and set to work on the dead forest lion.