Asunder: A Gathering of Chaos by Cameron Hopkin (electronic book reader .txt) 📗

no matter what I look like. He closed his eyes – all of them – and drank in the smells and sounds of the evening. They were beautiful.

His heat sense alerted him to the creature approaching, but it was tiny and cool-skinned, and in his invincible mood of hope he knew no fear, so he let the little thing come near without alarm. He felt tiny pads pull and grip on the back of his left hand, so he opened his eyes. A salamander regarded him from its perch on his hand, head cocked imperiously, its whole body expressing curiosity.

It was a lovely little beast, with wet, shining skin of mottled red. Dark blue spots marched up and down its flanks, the dusky red of its back divided by two perfectly white lines that started at its eye ridges and ran parallel down its dorsal side until they merged at the tip of its tail. It was broad of face, with large, liquid eyes that seemed intelligent and friendly. The soft skin of its belly was smooth and lighter in color than its back, fading nearly to pink. Kest felt the spark of the Beast Rider stir within him, and for the first time since he had left home it brought him no fear. He reached out his mind to the bold little amphibian.

First things first. What is your name?

Chapter 16 Not Human

Gamarron crouched in the shallows next to one of the tiny, countless hillocks deep within the swamp and watched the thrashing spot of water where Kest had been only moments before. Gray scales flashed through the turbulence, and he felt the thrumming growl of the water beast reverberate in his chest. He wanted to help, but the wiser part of him knew that any attempt would be worse than useless. The others huddled next to him, sheltered from sight by a willow’s drooping branches. They waited. Nira was chewing on a fingernail.

Kest had warned that the great lizards were following them. Apparently, being able to speak to the animals did not ensure one’s safety around them. I’d have known that if I had ever bothered to spend two seconds thinking about it. The boy had told them to move to the shallows if any trouble came their way. That way, they’d be able to see the stealthy beasts’ approach more easily and avoid them. Gamarron looked for more of the telltale ridges moving in the water, but his eyes kept wandering back to where the young Beast Rider was struggling for his life. Even if he’d had a thorn-thrower, Gamarron wouldn’t have dared to use it – he saw the fabric of Kest’s shirt roll to the surface nearly as frequently as he glimpsed the hide of the great water monster.

The boy’s head broke the surface long enough for him to gulp in a lungful of air, and he was pulled back under. He hasn’t even the simplest of weapons. He can’t win. Gamarron had gotten a glimpse of the great lizard that attacked the boy – it topped five meters, and its toothy snout was longer than his arm. The cold, impatient part of him wondered why they were waiting to watch the boy die. It was an unconscionable waste of time, especially with the Shard so near.

For two days they had crept through the swamp, keeping to the shadows of the trees and never venturing into the deep, clear channels. They were as quiet as mice and roughly as likely to be noticed by their enemies. The mosquitos and water leeches were a different story. Gamarron was able to sense when a leech attached to him, and he could seal off his blood flow from the spot to make the little bloodsuckers lose interest, but no doubt that his companions were playing host to a score or more of the things. There was no point in worrying about it until they got out of the water.

A throaty roar rumbled beneath the water. It sounded more urgent than before. Fresh splashing drew his gaze, and Gamarron saw Kest swimming madly for shore with wide eyes and labored breath. He came within ten meters of them before his forward progress abruptly halted. He cried out as he was dragged backwards and down beneath the blackness of the water. The sun still hung in the western sky, but its light didn’t penetrate the murky water at all.

“We should go while they’re fighting,” Renna said. “This is too much noise – the Naga are bound to come looking. We need to be gone.”

Predictably, Nira objected. “We can’t just leave him behind! He’ll be killed!”

Gamarron tried to speak reasonably. “Unless you plan to go out there and wrestle that thing with him, we can have no impact on the outcome here. Watching does nothing but increase the likelihood that we’ll be caught. He’ll catch up to us if he can.”

“I’m not leaving,” Nira said, folding her arms and sitting in the wet grass near the water. Guyrin huddled in on himself, looking even more ridiculous in a Hand’s clothes than he did in a dress. He was muttering to himself and hardly seemed to notice the conflict in the water.

“Don’t be stupid,” Renna snapped, shaking Nira by the shoulder. “You can’t help.”

Nira bared her teeth and knocked the old woman’s hand away.

Gamarron held out a calming hand. “Let’s not add to the noise by arguing. See sense, Nira: we have to hide. If a single one of us is found it will put the Naga nest on alert, and we must avoid that. Kest has been wrestling beasts all his life. He’ll be fine.” He was lying, but he couldn’t very well tell her the truth. The more she worries, the less likely she is to comply. The coldness of his calculations plucked at his conscience, but not enough to change his words.

“I can’t,” said Nira, clutching at the earth as if to anchor herself. “He came back for me.