Was Khochu really so gullible that he fell for a cannibal? He should have seen this coming; Nikita was an undercover siren. She must have used her beautiful face and voice to lure people to their doom. How embarrassing. And Khochu was supposed to be the one to prove his strength to the tribes.
Now, there he was: bound in ropes, one cannibal forcibly pushing him into Nikita’s village. The aurora borealis faded, so now the light from the full moon shone down on the ragged tents and hungry people (a few sucking fingers and biting nails). Yet, despite her trap, Khochu saw conflict in Nikita’s eyes, while Priven grinned and limped beside her.
What would happen next? Would the cannibals stuff Khochu up and then roast him?
What about Kobe? He moved slowly beside Khochu, whining and his tummy rumbling.
“We’re going to figure this out, Kobe,” Khochu whispered to him, his mind veering to that perfect paradise. He merely needed to find a way out of this, which seemed impossible with his down-to-luck bravery.
“Let’s let him rest tonight,” Chief Priven told his people, flinching on his injured leg, “and then we’ll feast tomorrow, thanks to my beautiful daughter.”
Oh, gosh. Khochu only had until morning? Where was Eva when he needed her? She could distract the cannibals, allowing him and Kobe to escape. He said nothing as his mind flooded with thoughts and failed plans, until the cannibals took him to a tent in the center of the village. They untied the ropes around Khochu’s wrists and tossed him and Kobe inside. Two guards stood at the tent’s entrance, spears in hand.
Khochu and Kobe sat in the corner beside two beds made from animal fur. Khochu shivered and took his bow off his back. He pulled his knees close and examined his surroundings, his deep brown eyes soon shifting to the tent’s ceiling. Khochu sighed and rested his head on his knees, whimpering, “I’m not ready for my rite of passage.” Not after seeing Nikita. She was so much more mature than he was.
Yet, despite everything that was happening—and even though Nikita betrayed him like that—Nikita’s face always seemed to come back to Khochu’s mind like a snowstorm that never stopped, only pausing every hour. Something in her face, as her people brought him to the village, indicated she didn’t want to kill him, but as the Spirits told him, she had to to survive and make her father proud. Khochu wondered if she had once experienced something like what he did with that polar bear. Was that their true rite of passage, or was Khochu still in shock?
He waited for an hour, his mind full of thoughts, and then one of the guards spoke outside. “Go on.”
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The tent’s flap opened, and in came Nikita, carrying something in her arms.
Was it a human? Not wanting to find out, Khochu grabbed Kobe and backed away from Nikita, holding out his hand. His arm throbbed, and he inhaled, asking, “What do you want?”
“Look…” Nikita sat before him. “I don’t like doing this, but I need to for my tribe.”
“To survive, you must kill.” Exactly. Khochu thought so. He studied the fabric Nikita held, and a lump formed in his throat.
“What is that?” he shakily inquired.
“I thought you might be hungry,” Nikita explained, and Khochu’s face whitened. “Don’t worry, it’s not what you think.” She unwrapped the tough skin and held it up to Khochu as if she wanted him to judge it.
“Is that a mammoth?” he wondered as Nikita set the skin on the floor. He hadn’t seen one in a few weeks. There was enough meat on them for a week.
“Sure is,” Nikita explained. “It took a few miles, but I found one. Hid it to show my father that I still mostly eat others.”
That wasn’t creepy at all—but Khochu knew she was conflicted. “You getting tired of eating”—he gulped—“you know?”
“It’s not that,” Nikita said, sitting back and crossing her legs. “I’m tired of our traditions.” She rolled her eyes. “‘To survive, you must kill others.’”
It wasn’t the same, but it was close, and Khochu released the breath he’d been holding. Maybe Nikita wasn’t evil after all.
While he knew the answer, Khochu inhaled. “What were you doing when we met? Are you on your rite of passage, too?”
Nikita nodded. “I was supposed to bring a human from the other tribe back here. It’s been our tradition for a long time now.”
Well, that explained why quite a few of Khochu’s people had disappeared over the years when there weren’t any predatory animals around.
Just thinking of his own rite of passage, Khochu shivered in the already-cold tent and hugged Kobe close, remembering his dream and the ancestors’ message. “Mine isn’t that,” he emphasized, “but I’m not sure if it’s possible.” After all, cannibals and non-cannibal tribes could never work together, even if he was the key between them and that mystical place… whatever and wherever it was.
Nikita scooted closer and rested her hands in her lap, warmth coming back to her eyes. “What is it? Maybe I can help.”
As if! Khochu didn’t think so, even if Nikita was tired of her tribe’s traditions. She still betrayed him and knocked him and Kobe into a hole, a hole in which they were still recovering from.
“Look, Nikita, I like you,” he let slip, even though he blushed—he was not good around women—but…” His voice trailed off.
“You don’t trust me, I understand,” Nikita said, nodding and standing. “But if you want to get out of here and complete your rite of passage, you might need my help.” She raised her brows. “Considering how much of a coward you are.”
Khochu blushed again. And there he believed he was doing a good job of proving to his tribe his sickly family’s strength.
“And to be perfectly honest...” Nikita’s voice trailed off, too. She moved toward the tent’s exit and reached for it without looking back. Within seconds, her face flushed just as much as Khochu’s, and she finished with, “I like you, too.”

