Chapter 7: The Runaway and the Wild Jungle

"The entire valley is bleeding, Ambe'?" Rangga stared at the black fog devouring the horizon, his voice tight. "That doesn't just happen, right? That’s not a weather pattern."

Arung didn't look at him. His jaw was locked, his gaze fixed on the encroaching ink-stain in the sky. "It’s not weather. It’s a breach. The land is failing to contain what’s buried beneath it."

"And you’re the one who keeps saying I’m the anchor," Rangga snapped, pacing the foyer. "If the land is failing, does that mean I’m failing? Is this my fault?"

"Your biology is shifting, Rangga. Your blood is syncing with the Buntu lineage. You’re not failing; you’re just… waking up to a nightmare."

"I don't want to wake up to it. I want to leave."

"You couldn't survive a mile outside these gates right now," Arung said, finally turning. His eyes were wide, desperate. "The Datu are hunting. You’re a beacon. Your blood is singing to every predator in these highlands."

"Then I’ll go where they can’t find me."

"There is nowhere else!"

"There’s the jungle," Rangga countered, grabbing his coat. "The locals don't even go near the deep ravines after dark. If I can get into the thick of the brush, I can disappear."

"You’ll die of exposure. Or the hounds."

"Hounds? What hounds? You mean the ones that attacked us at the temple?"

"Those were scouts. The real ones are much, much worse."

"Well, I’d rather be eaten by a dog than be a 'pet' in this museum of a mansion," Rangga spat. "Ambe', are the side gates still locked?"

Ambe' Pong blinked, looking back and forth between them, his face a mask of tragedy. "The locks have been rendered useless by the bleeding, sir. The barrier is… flickering."

"See?" Rangga gestured wildly at the door. "Even the magic knows I’m done here."

"Rangga, stop. Don't be a fool." Arung stepped toward him, his hand reaching out. "If you cross that threshold while the bond is unstable, the backlash will tear your heart out."

"You’ve been saying that since I got here. 'You’ll die, you’ll change, you’ll be mine.' I’m still standing, aren't I?"

"Because I’ve been holding you together!"

"Then let go!"

Rangga bolted toward the mudroom.

"Rangga, get back here! That’s an order!"

"I’m not a soldier, Arung! I’m a guy who wants his life back!"

The door hissed open, the dark mist swirling into the house like a cold, wet hand. Rangga didn't look back. He sprinted into the blinding, ink-thick night.

*

The jungle was a wall of black. Every step Rangga took felt like he was wading through cooling tar. His lungs burned, not with exertion, but with the strange, rhythmic thrumming of the crimson marks under his skin.

"Okay. Keep moving. Just keep moving," he wheezed, clutching his side.

A twig snapped behind him. It was a heavy sound, the weight of something massive hitting the forest floor.

"Hello? Arung, if that’s you, I’m not coming back!"

Nothing. Just the sound of his own pulse, echoing the glowing rhythm of his veins.

"Arung?"

A low, guttural growl vibrated through the mud, rattling Rangga’s teeth. It wasn't the sound of a mountain cat. It was the sound of something starving, something that had been hunting for centuries.

"Right. Not a fan," Rangga whispered, his hand going to his belt. He had no weapon, just a small, silver letter opener he’d swiped from the study. "Pathetic."

He pushed through a wall of giant ferns, his boots sliding on a steep, slick incline. He hit the ground hard, his arm scraping against a sharp, jagged rock. The cut started to glow.

"Damn it! That’s just a flare for them, isn't it?"

He scrambled to his feet, eyes darting through the darkness. The shadows didn't just look like shapes; they looked like teeth.

"You want me?" Rangga yelled into the void. "Come and get me!"

A massive, shadowy form emerged from the trees. It stood six feet tall at the shoulder, its fur made of swirling, oily smoke, its eyes twin pits of molten gold. It wasn't a dog. It was a nightmare.

"Oh. Okay. Definitely not a dog," Rangga whispered, backing away until his heels hit the edge of a sharp, sudden drop.

The hound lowered its head, its fangs dripping with a substance that smoked as it touched the grass. It let out a sound like grinding stone.

"You’re a long way from the Buntu manor," Rangga said, his voice trembling but his defiance spiking. "Arung didn't send you, did he?"

The beast growled, its ears flattening.

"The Datu," Rangga realized. "They’re using hounds to find the 'anchor' because they’re too scared to come themselves."

The hound lunged.

Rangga didn't think. He threw himself sideways, feeling the wind of the beast’s jaws snap shut inches from his throat. He rolled, his fingers digging into the mud, and yanked a handful of crushed, pungent herbs, the kind he’d seen Ambe' Pong use to ward off the 'wilder spirits', and threw them into the air.

The hound recoiled, its form flickering as if it had been burned by the scent.

"Yeah? How do you like that?" Rangga scrambled backward, his boots hanging over the edge of the ravine.

The beast snarled, its golden eyes locking onto his with terrifying intelligence. It didn't retreat. It circled, its shadow stretching out to cut off his escape route.

"Come on, move!" Rangga urged his legs, but they were leaden. The energy drain was hitting him, his own power, the bond, everything was bleeding out of him into the mud.

"Where are you, Arung?" he choked out, his vision blurring.

The hound pounced, not at his throat, but at the glowing marks on his arm, its fangs scraping against his skin.

Rangga fell backward, his weight tipping over the ledge. He clawed at the dirt, his fingers finding a narrow root. He dangled, the ravine yawning beneath him like an open grave.

Above him, the beast stood on the edge, its silhouette blotting out the moon. It bared its fangs, a sickening, distorted grin spreading across its smoky face.

"So, this is it?" Rangga gasped, his arm straining as the hound stepped onto the very edge of the cliff, ready to end it. "I’m just the final piece of your little feud?"

The hound let out a roar that shattered the silence of the valley.

"Fine!" Rangga shouted, his eyes glowing with a sudden, violent crimson. "If I’m going down, you’re coming with me!"

He let go of the root.