Zellohar

by Chris A. Jackson

  A flicker of motion from above drew the tribesman's attention. He glanced up, expecting to spy a sleepy owl or hawk.

  His heart leapt into his throat.

  A thick branch creaked under the weight of a large, scaly horror the likes of which he had never seen. The size of a man, the beast's leathery wings folded over its back, its ribs protruding as if long-starved. Long talons gripped the limb, its blue-grey scales blending with the winter landscape. Its large, black eyes were riveted on the crouched figure across the clearing, its saurian mouth gaping to show too many teeth.

  Jundag's cursed himself for leaving his bow behind and snatched at his belt for a weapon. As his fingers curled around the haft of the small hand axe, the beast launched itself and swooped toward Avari. Jundag shouted a warning and threw the axe with all the strength in his broad shoulders, lunging after it at a dead run. As the axe tore through the thin membrane of the beast's right wing, shattering one of the fragile bones, he wrenched the jawbone club from his belt and swung it overhead in a menacing arc.

  Avari whirled as Jundag's shout and a bloodcurdling shriek split the winter silence. She gaped at the scaly nightmare tumbling into the snow only five paces away. She reached for her bow, but her fingers found only a cold handful of snow. She dared not look for the weapon; the creature was pushing itself up from the snow, an odd voice hissing from the toothy visage.

  "No humansss!" The forked tongue flicked over rows of serrated teeth. "It isss meatsss!"

  The beast leapt, one broken wing trailing but both taloned hands reaching for her throat. Avari backpedaled, but the deep snow fouled her footing and she fell backward. The monster was on her instantly. She got a grip on its throat, her longer reach holding the clawed hands at bay as its teeth snapped inches from her face. Its foul breath warmed her cheek, but it could get no closer. She jammed the hunting knife into its chest, only to feel the blade skitter over scales. She twisted the blade, trying to force it between the ribs.

  Avari's ears rang with the beast's shrill scream as hot blood ran over her knife hand. She tightened her grip around its throat, but the creature's light weight belied its strength. Pain lanced through her thigh as one of its hind claws penetrated her leggings. It pressed closer, clawing at her and twisting its head to gnash at her arm. The serrated teeth ripped her sleeve, drawing lines of blood across her forearm. Her elbow began to buckle and the creature's horrible jaws widened in anticipation, strands of saliva stretching between razor-edged fangs.

  Suddenly, the thing's head jerked aside. Neck bones snapped beneath her fingers, and the vertically slitted eyes rolled up. The beast was flung aside as a second blow crushed its skull. Avari gasped for breath and rolled to her feet in time to see Jundag deliver a final crushing blow with a blood-splattered club.

  "Of all the stupid beginner tricks, this takes the prize!" Jundag stood before Avari, hands on hips, his face red with anger, veins standing out on his temples.

  "If I had not happened along, that would have been the end of you, Avari. You weren't even wearing your armor!" He kicked her dormant greaves where they lay beside her pack. "And what would have happened if that thing had come upon us, while you were out on your little hunt? I will tell you what. You would have returned to nothing but two blood-stained patches of snow, that is what!"

  Avari shrank under his reproach. She tried to hold his gaze, but hers kept dropping to her feet. The scolding reminded her of those her father used to mete out when she committed a dangerous mistake, but his had never been so vehement.

  The shock on Shay's face when he reached the clearing had been rebuke enough. He had heard the screams and was sure that he would find one or both of his companions dead. But his relief at seeing them both alive had vanished when he caught sight of the battered beast. The priest had insisted that the creature be dismembered and the pieces scattered for the scavengers. When Avari questioned him, the angry half-elf explained that this was no ordinary predator. It had the aura of a magical beast, not entirely of this world. If precautions were not taken, it might not stay dead. He even refused to heal her wounds until they returned to camp.

  Now that her injuries were no more than fading scars, she had to endure the verbal battering from Jundag. She had never meant to put anyone in danger, but the fat snow hare that bounded by the camp had been irresistible. Avari had thought that waking to freshly cooked rabbit might smooth over the hard feelings. Now she had only made things worse.

  "Enough!" Shay's voice cut through Jundag's rant, surprising the big man enough to divert his attention from Avari.

  "What?" the tribesman sputtered, whirling on the half-elf.

  "I said, that is enough," Shay reiterated, standing up to the larger man without a hint of fear. "You have made your point and Avari has learned her lesson. Scolding her further would serve only to humiliate you both."

  "And what gives you the right to—"

  "She is my friend!" Shay exploded, angry at the larger man's stubbornness. "As I believe you are. But if your pride understands only force, then let us stand away from the camp and see which one of us is truly the stronger." Shay mumbled a few odd words and his entire body began to glow with the eerie blue-white of magelight.

  "Very well, friend Shay," Jundag said, removing his hand from the knife at his hip, "but remember that even the mightiest of wizards bleeds red." The tribesman turned and strode away, snatching up his pack.

  Avari turned gratefully toward Shay. "Thank you, I—"

  "Do not thank me so quickly, Avari," Shay's low voice was strained, even as the mage-light faded. "Even though I value your friendship greatly, it is among my most heartfelt goals to not end up a blood stain in the snow. Friendship means not deserting others to their fate while you go off on little quests of your own. Perhaps next time you should simply think before acting!" Shay turned to tend his own pack.

  Avari stood there stunned. Somehow the soft rebuke from Shay had cut more deeply than all the ranting from Jundag. All the lectures from her father reeled in her head, echoing the recent words of her friends. Avari realized, with a sickening wrench in her stomach, that she had a great deal of growing up to do.

  CHAPTER 14

  The day's trek was nothing less than excruciating. On top of already high tensions, the encounter with a demon-spawned monster had everyone's nerves on edge. The ensuing arguments had topped the limits of tolerance, and the resulting hostilities hung like physical barriers between them. Her friends were utterly silent for the first half of the day and said no more than necessary when they came across another burned-out farm.

  That afternoon, as they hiked ever deeper into the hills, Avari forced her misery into a stoic decisiveness: she would find a way to make up for her mistakes. This morning's incident was entirely her fault, but she had learned her lesson and would never err like that again. Honestly, she had never taken the notion of encountering unnatural creatures seriously. Her father's tales of monsters and demons had seemed like stories to entertain her as a child, but the morning's encounter had taught her differently. From now on, she would always be on guard.

  The problem of what had happened in the barn still baffled her. But in the light of her recent blunder, she felt that she was probably to blame there, too.

  Come on, Avari, she thought as her emotions took another dive into self-pity. Let's think about this.

  In her mind, Avari went over and over that evening in the barn. Their sparring had been the most fun she'd had in months; much more challenging than her father's impromptu attacks. Had she insulted Jundag by besting him?

  No, she concluded, he got the better of me just as many times, and he didn't seem hurt until later... She recalled her flush of embarrassment at Shay's interruption, letting the memory dissolve into a sweet fantasy. What might have happened if Shay hadn't happened along?

  The fantasy faded into a morass of hurt feelings. What did they see that I—

  Looking at the incident for the first time from their perspective, the answer hit
her squarely between the eyes: Jundag's hurt from rejection! Avari had intended the prank with the snow as a jest, but she began to see how the situation must have seemed to him. Embarrassment tightened her gut at the thought of how forward her actions must have appeared.

  So how do I tell him I didn't mean to hurt his feelings, without insulting his pride again?

  Ahead of her, Jundag's broad back resembled nothing more than an impenetrable wall, but she knew there was more to him than the silent, strong warrior. She remembered the intensity of his ice-blue eyes, and sudden warmth surged through her like the rush of adrenalin she often felt during sparring. She enjoyed his company, and perhaps she had stronger feelings, but despite the physical attraction, she would like to know him better before committing herself to that kind of relationship. She sighed and thought on.

  Shay is a different problem... or is he? The shock that he might also harbor those types of feelings deep within his inscrutable manner caught her off guard. Was he jealous when he saw me with Jundag? Avari thought for a moment about the rather mysterious and undeniably handsome half-elf. The two had been alone on a number of occasions and he had never even hinted of any amorous intentions. From the way he handled people, she knew he was not the shy type.

  No, she mused, smiling, if Shay was attracted to a woman, she would soon find herself swept off her feet with his charm.

  The smile remained as she picked up her pace, melting the layers of ice weighing down her heart. Although still uncertain how to solve her problems, she finally and some answers.

  Father, you always said a sharp knife cuts the quickest and hurts the least. She trekked on, planning with each step how to cut to the heart of the problems between her and her companions, hopefully without getting her neck broken by Jundag or being changed into something small and slimy by Shay.

  Blood, human. Blood, rabbit. Wood. Leather. Human sweat... The spoors were thick around the bole of the great spruce, and her nose worked constantly to sift out each and every one. The story unfolding before her keen olfaction was a simple one; they had camped here, hunted, and one had been injured somehow. There! A faint tang of something foreign upon a piece of discarded cloth. Most was human blood, but there was something else. Thick, cloying, dark, wrong...

  A sudden flurry of yips and snarls snapped her out of her investigations; the pack had found something. She was bounding through the snow in seconds, easily out-racing the others to the clearing. The scene was one she was becoming accustomed to; several of the younger males were fighting over pieces of something that had been scattered about the clearing. She advanced on one group and broke them up with a few well-placed nips and a growl, her curiosity piqued. The bloody mass that remained was unidentifiable, at least until its thick scent touched her nose.

  WRONG! it screamed in her head. The cold, dark aroma with a cloying undertone told her that whatever this thing had been, it was not a natural creature. She picked through some of the remains looking for clues. When she came upon the shattered remnants of the skull, her questions were answered.

  "A zykell!" she breathed in horror, staring at the remains of the toothy, saurian visage. "What in the name of the Lady of the Forest has been awakened?"

  Knowing the answer would not be found here, she called the pack together. They would not feed on this meat; it was unclean. She made her point by deftly urinating on several of the larger portions, quelling the hungry whines with a growl or two. When the pack was assembled, she led them away from the grisly scene to follow the trail the curious threesome had left behind them.

  The stark blue sky was deepening to violet when Jundag steered them into a thick copse of young fir trees; the dense greenery would shield them from both the chill wind and any unfriendly eyes that might happen by. They tromped the deep snow into a depression and lined it with boughs, leaving the center bare for their fire. Soon the small camp was aglow with the warm yellow light of crackling flames.

  "I'll make dinner," Avari offered, a little too eagerly. "You two relax." Her unexpected offer and cheerful manner caught the men by surprise, but they acquiesced and set about their own tasks without a word.

  Jundag sat with his back turned to the others, repairing some damage to the snowshoes, while Shay removed a parcel from his pack and extracted two ornate books. He checked them for damage, replaced one and opened the other to a spot marked with ribbon. After a nervous glance at his companions, he bent over the volume and began to study.

  Avari, meanwhile, was striving to create the best possible meal she could. Thankfully, what talents she lacked as a seamstress she made up for as a cook. The rabbit meat from her disastrous hunt was dredged in flour and tumbled into the pot with a lump of lard to be browned. As the meat darkened, she added some wine from a skin, and most of the more perishable vegetables. Flour, melted snow and lard were mixed with a dash of soda, kneaded and spread into another lidded pot. Shortly, the small camp was filled with the wonderful smells of spicy rabbit stew and fresh biscuits. As the aroma thickened, her final dishes went on the fire: crushed berries simmered in a syrup of honey and wine, and tea leaves steeped in cinnamon-laced water.

  The meal was the first step in Avari's plan to relieve the tensions between them. Good food always seemed to pacify the worst of moods, and she wanted everyone relaxed before she tried to sort through the morass of hurt feelings.

  When the biscuits were golden brown and the stew thick and bubbly, Avari cut the steaming biscuits into wedges and sat the pan next to the pot of sweetened berries. She ladled heaping portions of the hearty stew into bowls, poured three mugs of tea, and motioned for the others to begin.

  Avari covertly watched the others eat. Jundag's eyebrows rose in surprise as he downed a heaping spoonful of stew. Shay spread the sweet berry mixture onto a steaming biscuit. Satisfied grunts and slurps transcended the need for conversation. Finally sated, the men accepted another cup of tea and settled down within the warm glow of the fire.

  Hoping the meal had released some tensions, Avari let the first hesitant words of her speech pass her nervous lips.

  "I'd like to apologize to both of you for the way I've messed things up," she began, trying to keep her eyes up to meet theirs. "I know what I did this morning was foolish, but I promise you it won't happen again."

  She forestalled Shay's comment with a raised hand, determination rising in her like a tide. "I know I've got a lot to learn, especially about when to use my head instead of my sword." She fidgeted, twisting the hem of her shirt between her hands. "And the other day in the barn, well, I guess that was my fault, too. But the last thing I wanted was to hurt either of you." The crack in her voice betrayed her emotions. She cursed silently and started to turn away, but was brought back by Shay's reassuring voice.

  "Such hurts are healed quickly, Avari. And I do not think either of us truly holds anything against you. Do not fear your mistakes, for they bring wisdom."

  "Aye," Jundag agreed, his baritone a considerable contrast to Shay's lilting tone. "Let it be done with. We must work together to complete the task at hand."

  Avari smiled crookedly at the consoling words. "Still friends then?"

  "If you continue to cook as well as you fight, I think you have two fast friends indeed!" The big man's claim was reinforced with a huge grin and a hearty belch.

  Their united laughter, the first Avari had heard in two days, rang like music in her ears. The tensions that had built between them began to melt away, relief evident on their faces.

  Avari watched eerie shadows dance among the trees, awake and motionless, until she heard the steady rumble of Jundag's snores. The fire's glow backlit Shay's hawkish features as he hunched over his elegant book. After dinner, she had found no solace in her blanket. Her plan for reconciling the group had begun to work, but she knew there was more to be done.

  Shay was deep in study as she eased out of her blanket and crept toward the fire. At the sound of her footsteps he slapped the book shut and turned, guilt plain on his face.
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  Already nervous, Avari jumped back at his reaction. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry," she whispered, careful not to wake Jundag. As if she could decipher those strange letters and figures anyway, the way they squirmed on the page. It gave her a headache. "But can I talk to you for a moment?"

  At his nod and expectant mien, however, Avari's resolve fled. Her eyes looked everywhere but at her friend, her mind racing to find the right approach to the sensitive subject.

  Finally she bit her lower lip, looked him in the eye and asked, "Do you have romantic feelings toward me?" It sounded presumptuous the moment she said it, but she could not stop now. She blushed a furious red and the rest of her carefully rehearsed speech became a babble.

  "Because nothing happened in the barn... I mean... I like Jundag, but I like you, too, but... well..."

  "Calm down, Avari." Shay chuckled and laid a gentle hand on her arm. "I think I understand what you are trying to say. You think I was jealous when I saw you in Jundag's arms?"

  Avari nodded, her cheeks radiating more heat than the fire. Try as she might, she could not meet Shay's gaze.

  "No, not really jealous," Shay said, as if explaining his feelings to himself as well her. "I was hurt at first, then rather fearful. I thought that you may no longer welcome my company after spending the night with Jundag, and—"

  Avari's eyes widened. "But I didn't spend the night with him! I was too scared and confused. I slept in a stall."

  Shay chuckled, this time more at himself than at Avari's stunned surprise. "Then we have both been sadly mistaken. I was concerned for your welfare, but I can see that you are able to handle this matter on your own. Now go get some sleep."

  "Yes, I will." Avari clasped his arm, smiling her thanks, and rose to return to her bedroll. A sudden thought made her look back. "Don't worry, Shay. I'd never abandon you. I'll never abandon my friends."