8. The Marathon

Barto’s Blockade could prove problematic. It blocked the entire High Hills from this side and while Leion could run fast, he couldn’t climb over towering tree trunks.

Unfortunately, he had to take another, riskier route.

He ran to the Impossible Wall. He soon found the small entrances the Cavedwellers from Garda had used, on the outside, and picked one in which he fit.

The passage was wet and musty, the rocks ice-cold and jagged. He ignored the pain, as trained, all his life. One last time, he told himself. I’m getting the Paraat warriors. Then I’ll go live somewhere else. Somewhere you’re greeted with a hug from Eeris instead of a caning.

After centuries of darkness and getting lost—or so it felt—he emerged on the other side. And he did what he did best: run faster than gods.

He quickly found the Green Path. It was busy again, but all beings moved in the same direction as him. Away from the coast, away from the Pricecats, toward the safety surrounding the gods’ Throne. They even moved at nearly the same pace.

That safety, however, could disappear quickly. If the gods gave in to the demands and left this world. Leion used the thought to spur himself on.

He ran until he no longer felt his paws. He ran until he was no longer aware of where he was or what was happening, dodging all tree trunks and taking the right turns purely on instinct and reflexes.

His mind emptied and the road stretched endlessly before him.

He whooshed past the deserted Gathering Tree that used to be the forest’s centerpoint. He raced by the Disaster Caves where the famous dinosaur Donte had lived.

His body refused to go on. He wanted to stop running, curl up against a tree and sleep for a week. He was no longer going straight but meandering off the Green Path. Animals asked if he was alright, or thought he might be drunk from those delicious grapes now growing in Origina.

He never responded. There was only the long road ahead. And it grew dark. He ran deep into the night, blind, his panting and grunting the only sound. Until he reached the edge of the Rainbow Woods, where it transitioned into the Backdoor Trail.

The path under his feet grew muddier, narrower, sharper. He barely felt it anymore. His running became trotting, his trotting became shambling, and by the time he entered Paraat he collapsed, legs giving out, heart pounding as if it would burst from his ribcage, watching the sunrise lying on his back.

Tikidas’ face soon hung over him, blocking the sunlight.

“Hmm. You have more guts than I thought. To come back after sneaking away, knowing we would punish you harshly.”

“Mejk klekl opaoal.”

Leion was too tired for words. Even his jaw ached and wanted to sleep.

“No, you have no guts, you’ve lost your mind somewhere.”

“Hoepoe alfope!”

The volume returned, the words had not. His heart struggled to settle. His hot coat rapidly cooled against the cold ground, leaving him both utterly exhausted and overheated, as well as shivering with cold. Compared to this, all his training had been easy.

“If you’re trying to garner sympathy, then—”

“Gods. Help.”

“What?”

“Gods in danger. We must help.”

“They didn’t seem so keen on our help the first time I suggested it.”

“Different now. Supportive.”

“And where are they?” More and more faces gathered over him.

“By … by the Mare a Thon, the sea next to it.”

“Thon? You ran all the way here from there?”

Leon nodded.

And his eyes fell shut. His body shut down. This was too much, too long, too hard. Someone splashed water over his head. It quenched his thirst, but his body insisted on falling asleep, which it did.

When Leion finally awoke, he wanted to grab the face above him by instinct, but his limbs wouldn’t move.

“Easy, easy.” A female honey badger with unusually soft hands checked his body. “You’ll need at least a couple weeks’ rest. Even Tikidas says so. He’s never seen a body under so much stress and pain.”

She wanted to leave the mud hut, but paused in the doorway. “He even wants you back in Paraat.”

He wants me back. I made an impression, I’m a real Paraat, he thought with a smile.

His exhausted heart, however, was clear. He never wanted to put his body through this again, unless he really had to. Unless he could rescue the gods with it. After the warmth of dear Eeris, every rule of Paraat, every custom, felt devilish.

But the gods still needed rescuing this time around.

“Don’t care. Are we helping?”

The honey badger smiled. “Yes. Tikidas has assembled all warriors, just leaving a few behind to guard.”

Leion smiled. “How long did I sleep?”

“A full day or two. Maybe a bit more.”

“Then they must be nearly there by now.”

Everything would work out, he told himself. Bella would return alive. The gods would thank Paraat, and especially him.

His caretaker frowned. “They still have to depart. You know the strict laws.”

The laws of Paraat. Always the darn laws.

With the realization, he hopelessly sank back onto his hard stone bed. His legs wouldn’t even carry him two steps now. He could do no more and might as well have stood helpless with the gods inside their prison.

Tikidas’ voice floated through his mind. “One always waits two days before joining a conflict, so one can reconsider and avoid grave mistakes.”