Skeever stood in front of the heavily-breathing mercenary, a bloodstained knife in his hands. He twirled it expertly between his skinny fingers, the breathy giggles he was making suggested he was more than enjoying himself. As I watched he slowly dragged the sharp tip of the knife across Risk’s ribs.
The man tensed in the guard’s arms, his teeth grit to hold back sounds of pain as another cut was added to his collection. Skeever finished the cut with a flourish, leaving a little tick upwards at the very end, and the mercenary went limp again, though he couldn’t seem to stop shivering.
“That’s everything, I swear,” he said hoarsely.
The captain was watching, face impassive, his bulky arms crossed over his chest.
He looked up when Theron dragged me forward. “Seems like you’ve managed to get yourself in a mess, haven’t you?” he said, though his question was clearly rhetorical. “Next time you travel, it might be a good idea to vet your muscle a little better.”
“Right,” I said hesitantly, not really knowing what else to do but agree.
The captain nodded at Skeever. “That enough.”
“Alright,” the man replied, turning away from Risk. “What do you want done with them now?”
“Put the spy somewhere secure, but don’t kill him yet,” said the captain. “There’ll be some value in him when we reach Nyuesi. As for the woman…”
“Can I have her?”
The captain’s gaze snapped to Conon. “That good of a lay was she?”
Conon just shrugged, and I could feel my cheeks grow warm. Did everyone think we had sex?
The bear-like face scrutinized me with such a piercing gaze, that I felt tears gather in my eyes again. What was going on? What had Risk told them for the captain’s opinion of the situation to change so quickly? Well, whatever it was seemed to have worked in my favour, because the lost and scared look on my face seemed to have been enough for the captain.
“Fine, you can keep her for now,” he said. “Make sure you keep her in line. Don’t let her become a distraction.”
“Understood,” said Conon, then continued casually like he didn’t care one way or the other. “What about her things?”
The captain raised an eyebrow then looked to Skeever, who just shrugged. “She can have them, but I’ll be keeping this,” he said, slipping my ring into the pocket of his coat.
As much as it pained me, I wisely kept silent.
“Come on then,” said Conon, hefting my trunk onto his shoulder.
“What about—” I began, my eyes straying back to Risk.
“Later,” the minotaur hissed, a hand on my back to encourage me to start moving.
I let myself be herded off the beach and back into camp. When we arrived back at Conon’s tent, the minotaur stopped short.
“Got something to say?” he said, and it wasn’t until someone spoke up that I realized we’d been followed.
The grey-haired navigator stood behind us, arms crossed over his chest as he glared daggers into Conon’s back. “What are you planning, Toro?”
“Currently?” replied the bull, his tone light and casual. “Well, I was thinking fruit for dinner and maybe some salted chicken from the ship. I saw they brought back some—”
“With the woman!” the older minotaur snarled, his nostrils flaring in anger.
“Well seeing as she’s mine now, I guess anything I want,” replied Conon, an aggressive edge to his voice, still refusing to turn and face the person he was talking to.
Theron stepped forward, putting a hand on Conon’s free shoulder to spin him around. “At least look at me when you’re pissing me off!”
Conon let himself be turned around. He had the expression of a moody teenager being forced to listen to a parent lecture him. He didn’t even bother to say anything; his raised eyebrow as he met Theron’s frown said all that was needed.
“You’re impossible,” groaned the navigator, slapping a palm to his face. “Impulsive and, ugh, do you ever think before you act?”
“Guess not.”
“Excuse me,” I said, finally breaking into the conversation before it became a shouting match. “As the woman in question, do you think either of you could spare a second to ask my opinion on things?”
Theron sighed, rubbing at his face with his hand. “You’re not in a position to understand the situation that you’re in.”
“What? That I’m marooned on a deserted island with a ship-full of smugglers?” Theron looked surprised at my words. “What? You think I’m stupid too, is that it? I know you’re all criminals, I just don’t care. It’s your business; I just want to get to Nyuesi in one piece!”
Theron started to say something, but seemed to immediately think better of it as his mouth clicked shut. He just sighed and turned back to Conon.
“There’s a spring around the bend of the beach, just past the broken palm.” He pointed, but his voice sounded tired. “If your woman, you know, wants to clean herself up…”
“Yeah, thanks,” said Conon.
There was an awkward silence, before Theron shook his head and wandered off. He seemed defeated by the conversation and the whole situation we were in. A man who’d lost the energy to keep fighting.
We left my trunk in Conon’s tent, though not before I grabbed a change of clothes, then set off together up the beach in the direction the navigator had indicated. I stared at my feet as we walked, a frown coming and going from my brow.
“No one’s going to steal your stuff,” said Conon after a few minutes, misreading my expression. “They know they can’t open it.”
“I’m not worried about that.”
“Don’t let that old fogey bother you,” he said. “He’s a windbag who likes the sound of his own voice.”
But you still stood around and listened to him.
I wanted to ask what their relationship was. Were they family, or at least, had they known each other before joining the crew? Conon didn’t speak with any of the others the way he spoke with Theron. The rest of the crew, barring Skeever, treated him with a mix of respect and fear, likely due to his role as the ship’s head of security. Instead, there was a familiarity between him and the navigator, even if it wasn’t the warmest of relationships. There was also the fact of the different name, but the brooding expression on Conon’s face made me pause. It was clear he was in no mood to be questioned about such things.
The spring where the crew had been gathering their water was a large pool, just inside the edge of the trees bordering the beach. When we arrived, I immediately knelt down at its edge ready for a wash, but couldn’t help the gasp when I saw my reflection in its surface.
My hair hung lankly in my face, and my eyes were red and bloodshot from crying. The swelling around my lips made it look like I’d been punched, not kissed. It looked so much worse than what had actually happened. Was this what the others had seen when I’d been dragged back out of the tent? An abused young woman who’d just been assaulted by some monster brute and was only saved from further harm because Risk had chosen to speak first? I looked up at Conon, but the bull seemed to be stubbornly avoiding my gaze.
The water was crystal clear around the edges of the pool, with small opal-shelled crustaceans scuttling through the shallows. A variety of rainbow-coloured fish flitted in and out of the rays of sun reflecting off the spring’s sandy bottom. Every now and then, the fish would sparkle, as though there were tiny mirrors embedded between their scales. It was mesmerising. I’d never seen fish like this before.
The water darkened in the centre of the pool, as the bottom dropped away off a steep shelf into a gaping black maw. Deep within the void, I could see something glinting in the darkness, blinking on and off like a flickering lamp. A large shadow moved to the edge of the hole, twisting this way and that.
I leant forward, my nose just brushing the water as I watched the moving shape. There was a crunch of grass as Conon stepped up behind me. He didn’t say anything, but I knew that he too was watching t
he shadow move through the deep water.
Without warning, it turned, and eyes like silver platters opened in the darkness. Its slitted pupils rolled, then focused upwards. In a flash, strong back legs had pushed off the bottom of the pool, propelling the creature up and out of the water. Its head was massive in proportion to its white reptilian body, and the last thing I saw were rows of pearly serrated teeth, before darkness closed in on me.
Chapter 9:
The Crystal Caves
I awoke lying on cold, rough stone, soaked head-to-toe in water and a layer of clear slime. After wiping off my hands and face as best I could, I opened my eyes. Where was I?
I was in an underground cavern, large enough to fit a cathedral inside. So tall, the rocky ceiling was lost in darkness. The sound of dripping water echoed in the cavernous space and the walls were wet and shiny. Along the lower walls of the cave, there were little clusters of pale purple crystals growing out of cracks in the rock. They glowed softly, barely giving off enough light to see.
I stood shakily, trying to find my footing. My body ached, and the slime I was covered in slicked the stone beneath my feet, making walking hazardous. The shelf of rock I had been lying on overlooked a great underground lake shore, no doubt connected to the spring near the beach.
A snorting grunt made me jump and turn, nearly slipping. Only a few feet away, lying on the ledge behind me was the creature from the spring. It was a least thirty feet long, possibly more, if you included the tail, and it reminded me of some kind of aquatic iguana. It had pearly scales that shimmered in the cave crystal’s light, clawed webbed feet and a long fish-finned tail.
Its eyes, which had seemed huge under the water, now appeared thin under a ridged brow making it look like the creature was constantly glowering. Right now, though, those large silver orbs were closed. I sighed in relief; it was sleeping.
Its large, flabby belly seemed to be draped over something, and emboldened by the creature’s slow, even breaths, I crept forward, tilting my head to try and see what it was lying on.
Five large ovular eggs, their shells shimmering like white opal, just like the freshwater crustaceans that had been living in the pool. A rush of fear ran through me. One of these monsters was going to be enough to deal with, but if those eggs hatched, that meant five more problems.
I edged away from the creature and looked around, trying to find some exit other than the lake tunnel. Even with the glow of the crystals, it was hard to see more than a few feet ahead, and if one particular cluster hadn’t been growing right at the corner to an opening in the rock, I might have missed it completely.
I dropped off the rock shelf onto the lake’s shore as quietly as I could, and started heading towards the tunnel entrance, slipping every now and then on loose pebbles and patches of slime left over by the creature. I knew my filthy state upon waking in the cave was the beast’s fault. My last memory from the surface was of those huge, open jaws, and I had no doubt it had swallowed me, before coming back down into the cave. I shuddered at the mental image, but supposed I should be glad it hadn’t actually eaten me properly. I had no idea whether or not I was just too big, or whether it was planning on saving me for later, but I had no intention on waiting around to find out.
I’d barely taken a few steps before the creature gave another grunting snore, and suddenly came alive. Its eyes snapped open. Its long tail whipped the ground, and it stood from its nest.
I froze. For a long, tense moment, I didn’t even breathe. But the beast didn’t immediately launch itself off the ledge at me. In fact, it didn’t even look at me. The creature’s gaze was fixed on its eggs, from which a series of crackling sounds were emanating.
The rocky shelf was only waist-height, and from where I stood, I could see the cluster of eggs, twitching and bulging as the beast’s children squirmed around inside. Suddenly, the one in the middle split with a wet crack, one of the sides collapsing to the struggle within.
A thin, scaly head appeared at the hole, its beady silver eyes darting around and squinting as they adjusted to the cave’s meagre light. Scrabbling around and slipping on loose bits of shell and amniotic fluid, the baby monster pulled itself out into the world.
It stretched, slowly uncoiling itself to the size of a large dog. Snapping its jaws, it took its first breaths of air, and revealed two rows of needle-like teeth. Its body was a dull cream, and lacked the multi-coloured lustre of its mother.
Around it, the other eggs were hatching, and a short while later, four more lizards were squirming around in their nest, flopping over each other and chirping loudly.
The mother, who’d stood back as they’d hatched, moved forward now, nudging them around the nest gently with her nose, making soft grunting noises.
I had never seen something this big hatch up close before. The mother was so attentive as well, rolling each one of them over to make sure they were all healthy, brushing away the empty shells so the babies had a clean nest. I couldn’t help smiling as I watched it. Seems even monsters love their children.
The mother was still nosing around in the nest, and I realised there was still one egg left. It was small, less than half the size of the others, and its shell was a much duller colour. The mother nosed it, and it wobbled feebly. She nosed it harder, but there was no response. With a harsh grunt, the mother swept the unhatched egg off the ledge with her tail, sending it falling to the lake’s rocky shore.
I gasped reflexively as the discarded egg fell towards me. It bounced once, cracking up the side, and landed with a wet sound, the bottom smashed by the impact. A long, heartbreaking moment passed, before the egg shook violently, making me jump.
The egg toppled over, revealing a small, skinny body with pale, almost translucent scales and pure white eyes. Was it blind? Its head lolled lazily from one side to the other. With what appeared to be great effort, it rolled over onto its belly, trying to lift itself up on short, stubby limbs. The baby chirped, the sound strangled and faint, unlike the clear voices of its siblings. It was calling for help, wanting its mother. Wanting comfort in a cold and dark world. But its mother didn’t come. It was a runt, too small it seemed, to be bothered with.
I edged towards it, wary of its tiny, but still-present teeth. The lizard’s nose twitched, a long purple tongue flicking out to taste and smell the air. Its head moved, its unseeing gaze homing in on my direction.
“I won’t hurt you,” I whispered softly, kneeling down.
I slowly reached out a clenched fist, keeping it level with the creature’s nose, so as not to surprise it. I flinched at the sudden touch of a curious tongue. It swiped across my knuckles, before the wet patch was gently bumped by a scaly nose. I carefully extended my fingers, ready to snatch them back at any sign the creature was planning on taking a bite. It closed its eyes blissfully as I gently caressed its head. The lizard stumbled forward, bumping into my knees and then tried, its thin chest heaving with the effort, to crawl into my lap.
It felt fragile as I picked it up, like its scaly skin was made of paper and the bones inside were just toothpicks. With every move of my fingers, I was terrified of breaking the poor thing in two.
The lizard panted heavily in my arms, long tongue lolling, its eyes closing slowly. If I didn’t do something quickly, this thing was going to die.
At the nest, the five healthy babies were continuing to squeak and chatter demandingly at their mother, who was looking around. Her gaze had initially been focused on the corner where I had first woken up, but was now scanning the cave.
She’s looking for me.
No sooner had the thought crossed my mind, did those huge silver eyes snap in my direction. The mother gave a low grunt, and the children quietened, each head turning towards me, until six pairs of unblinking eyes were staring in my direction.
I backed up slowly, cradling the runt tightly to my chest. The babies were watching my every move, nostrils flaring, and long tongues lapping at the air. The mother let out a grunt, and her five children lea
pt off the shelf towards me.
I turned and ran as carefully as I could, bare feet slapping on the wet, slippery rock, as I hurried towards the tunnel opening. I could hear the sounds of ten pairs of legs scampering across the cavern floor behind me. Though just hatched, they were quick, and I didn’t dare look back to see how quickly they were gaining on me. The ground shook as the mother jumped off the shelf to join her children in the hunt.
I sprinted towards the tunnel while simultaneously trying to stuff the baby monster down the front of my nightgown, anything to try and keep it shielded from its ravenous siblings.
The baby chirped fearfully, no doubt confused by the sudden press of damp, slimy cloth. Tiny claws dug into my chest. They weren’t particularly sharp, but they hurt regardless. I stifled a gasp, and winced.
“Keep still,” I hissed desperately.
The entrance to the tunnel was thin, just enough for me to squeeze in sideways. Had I been a stouter woman, I may not have been able to make it through. The wiry monster children though would have no trouble. Even so, something stopped them from following me. Though the babies were small enough to pursue, the massive mother was far too large. She pulled up short at the crack in the rock, bellowing in anger that the path to her prey was blocked. The babies squeaked and whined, half-following, half-hanging back with their mother, until she roared and tossed her head, encouraging her children to go on without her and get their meal.
The tunnel was tall and narrow, with an oddly-rounded ceiling. A little wider than its entrance, two people of my size would have been able to stand side-by-side, but it would have been a very tight fit. It was much brighter here than in the cavern. The crystal clusters were more tightly packed, and with the smaller space, there was more light. It was a boon for me, who had been barely able to see a few feet in front of me before.
The babies, who had been born in near darkness, were not taking it so well. They squeaked in pain and tossed their heads as their infant eyes tried to adjust to the sudden change in light levels.
The Island of Wolves Page 9