Page 13 of The Huntmaster

Sora stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on the child’s head to pull it back. "Gently, little one. Do not pressure the alien woman. She is fragile and has survived the fire. She is not a toy for the nursery."

I let out a soft, dry laugh, the sound startling the child so much it nearly fell backwards. "Alien woman. That’s... that’s a new one. Back home, you’re the ones we’d be calling the aliens. It’s a bit weird being the one on the other side of the glass. I feel like I'm the one in the zoo today."

Sora looked at me, her head tilting in that bird-like way they all seemed to have. "You are far from your soil, Ly-ra. Here, everything is alien to you. To us, you are the shadow that fell from the stars."

We descended a series of spiralling stairs carved directly into the big ass tree. The air grew thick and heavy, laden with a humid weight that made the tattered remains of my suit cling to my skin. The scent changed—gone was the ozone and the woodsmoke, replaced by a heavy, mineral aroma of sulfur, crushed mint, and something sweet, like overripe nectar.

"The springs," Mara grumbled, gesturing vaguely ahead as we rounded a massive root-buttress.

The grotto was like stepping into another world entirely. It was a cathedral of stone and steam, carved out of the very foundation of the mountain-sized tree. Thick, bioluminescent mosses draped from the ceiling like neon weeping willows, shedding a soft, pulsing azure light that reflected off the rising mist. Massive, crystalline flowers—transparent as glass—grew from the crevices, their centres glowing with a faint violet hue.

But the water dominated the space. It pooled in a series of tiered basins formed from naturally calcified rock. The water bubbled and hissed, but it wasn't blue or clear. It was a deep, translucent crimson—the colour of a sunset caught in a glass of wine.

"The planet's blood," I whispered, remembering Kaelen-Thul’s words. It looked both beautiful and terrifyingly visceral.

"It is the heat of the core," Sora said, stepping toward the edge. "Strip the sky-cloths. Enter the flow. The warmth will soothe your broken frame, though it will not fix the mess on your head."

I looked at the red water, then at the two seven-foot women watching me with unblinking eyes. "Uh, some privacy? Please? I’m not really used to an audience when I’m... you know, bathing. It's a 'belongs to the soil' kind of thing."

Mara let out a derisive snort, her tail flicking with a sharp thwack against a stone. "We have seen the bodies of many creatures. Yours is small, pale, and lacks the grace of a hunter. There is nothing to hide." She turned to Sora, clicking her teeth in annoyance. "I will wait by the outer bridge. I cannot stand the smell of her metal any longer."

Mara stormed away, her heavy footsteps echoing through the grotto. Sora watched her go, then turned back to me with a softer expression.

"Do not mind Mara," Sora said quietly. "She lost her mate to a fire that fell from the sky many seasons ago. To her, anything that comes from above is death."

I felt a sudden, sharp pang of guilt. "I didn't mean to... I didn't choose to fall here."

"I know," Sora replied. She reached out, tentatively touching a strand of my sap-caked hair before pulling back. "You are a curiosity, Ly-ra. Kaelen-Thul has never kept a guest before. Not like this. He usually... well, he is not known for his mercy."

"Lucky me," I muttered sarcastically.

"I will leave you now," Sora said, stepping toward the archway. "But listen well: do not wander. The forest outside this grotto is not under the Huntmaster’s protection. The roots are hungry, and the mists are deep. Stay put. We will return within the hour. If you are gone, I cannot help you."

She vanished behind a curtain of hanging moss, leaving me alone with the steam and the crimson silence.

I looked at my reflection in the red water. I was a mess—streaked with sap and dirt, but the adrenaline was finally fading enough for me to feel the true weight of my own skin. With a long, shaky sigh, I began to peel away the ruined remnants of my flight suit, letting the fabric fall in a heavy heap to the damp stones.

Stripped bare, the humid, alien air of the cavern felt like a physical touch. The steam swirled around my curves, clinging to the soft slope of my breasts and the flare of my hips. A damp draft sent a shiver racing down my spine; my nipples pebbled instantly, tight and sensitive against the heavy, fragrant air. I caught a glimpse of myself in the rippling surface—pale skin marred by a few dark blossoms of bruising on my ribs and a scrape along one thigh, but I was intact. My body felt heavy, aching in that way that reminded me I was very much alive.

As I stepped into the warm, blood-red water, the heat was an immediate, stinging relief. I sank in up to my chin, the crimson liquid swirling around me like a silken shroud. I closed my eyes, trying to wash away the memory of the crash, but all I could see was Kaelen-Thul’s gaze.

Chapter 9

Kaelen-Thul

The Council Chamber was not a room, but the hollowed, living heart of the Great Tree itself. Massive, glowing veins of sap pulsed within the walls, casting a rhythmic, amber light over the gathered Oru-Ka. The air here was heavy with the scent of ancient resin, and the collective heat of the tribe’s leaders.

I stood in the centre, my arms crossed and my tail held in a rigid, defiant line. Around me, the Elders sat on raised roots, their faces etched with the lines of centuries, their amber eyes judging my every breath.

"The Huntmaster has brought a curse into the heights!" Vahn’s voice rang out, echoing off the high, vaulted ceiling. He stood among the younger warriors, his markings flashing an uneven aggressive violet—the colour of a challenge. "He has bypassed the healers, stolen the sacred grubs, and hidden the sky-ghost in his own nest. He treats a parasite like a mate!"

A roar of clicks and whistles erupted from the crowd. The tension was physical, a vibration in the wood beneath my feet.

"She is a herald of the void!" a male elder barked, his voice like grinding stone. He slammed his staff against the floor. "Where one star-fire falls, more follow. We should tear the information from her throat and then feed her to the mists. Keeping her invites the eyes of her kind to our canopy. Are we hunters or are we keepers of broken things?"

"She has no kind here," I rumbled, my voice cutting through the din like a blade. I let my markings flare to a deep, scorching copper, asserting my dominance over the air in the room. "She arrived in a shell of cold metal, alone and broken. If the sky-people intended to invade, they would not send a single, fragile female who cannot even breathe our air without the aid of our medicine. She is a fluke of the stars."

"And why does the Huntmaster care for her breath?" a female elder sneered, her ears pinned back in a display of pure malice. "Is the Oru-Ka blood so thin that you crave the touch of a creature that belongs to the soil? She is a disharmony. She smells of the void and looks like a bleached bone."