Surprisingly—or not really, the more she thought about it—the creature shook its head ‘no’.
“What’s wrong? Are you hungry? Where’s your momma?”
The creature cried again.
Maria reached into her pocket, hoping she had some kind of snack to give it—maybe leftover candy or some popcorn had found its way into her pockets. Nope. But she did close her fingers around something shaped like a bone. It was a treat she’d put in there to give Sherlock, but had totally forgotten about.
Better than nothing.
She pulled it out and set it in front of the creature. Its eyes were cautious.
“It’s okay. It’s food. Good food. My friend Sherlock loves them…well, he loves everything, so that’s not really saying much. I guess if you can understand me, it’s better than nothing. And you, my friend, look really hungry.”
The bird-creature took a few hesitant steps and thrust its little beak out, sniffing at the dog biscuit.
“Yeah, go on, buddy,” Maria said and motioned to it with her free hand.
Hesitantly, the creature opened its beak and started to nibble the treat, breaking away small chunks and leaving a pile of crumbs.
“Should’ve thought to break it up for you before I gave it to you. My bad. Here, let me—” She reached out to grab the treat again in order to make it easier for the creature to eat, but the creature wasn’t having that. Its beak suddenly unhinged with a click, and its cute face turned into the horrid face of a monster. Rows and rows of sharp teeth jutted from the creature’s gums.
Maria let out a scream and found herself losing her balance.
The dagger! Pull it free, she thought.
That meant risking a fall.
Better than having some weird creature bite your nose off, Maria. Should’ve never offered it a dog treat. It’s not even a dog.
Now the creature was coming for her, its rotten-pink tongue lolling from between those jagged teeth.
Maria wasted no more time. She reached for the dagger on her belt, knowing there was no way in hell that she could actually stab the creature if it came down to it.
The creature flew through the air, covering the rest of the distance between its nest and Maria, but as soon as she brandished the dagger—its whiteness shining in the dark shadows of the towering books—the creature stopped dead and fell to the shelf, writhing.
“Whoa,” Maria wheezed.
The look of hatred in the bird-creature’s eyes was alarming. It did more than hate the blade…it utterly despised it.
The creature slinked back to the shadows with a low growl. Once all Maria could see of it was its glowing, hateful eyes, she tilted a few books to block the creature from her view. The growling grew louder.
“Fuck this,” Maria said. She wasn’t tired anymore; adrenaline coursed through her. She climbed up and over the shelf, hoping the little beast wouldn’t latch onto her ankle. That would be the worst.
It didn’t happen.
She reached the top shelf, quickly scanning the books. It took her about twenty seconds to find the Centaur’s book. Amazing what a little fear can do to you, she thought. She tucked the book into her belt, causing it to protrude very far out.
“Okay, I’m coming down!” she shouted toward the floor at the top of her lungs. It hadn’t really occurred to her that the Gnomes might hear, but none did; she was much too high up in the air.
Instead of going down the same way she had come, she shimmied to the left, hoping to avoid the creature she’d hidden with the books. She also hoped that there were no others—but she knew that was a long shot.
When she was about three-quarters of the way down, she lost her balance.
“NO!” she screamed.
But it was too late.
She fell, feeling weightless. The floor and the wide eyes of Gramps and Sherlock rushed up to meet her—
A neigh sliced through the air, and she didn’t hit the floor at all. Instead, she hit the back of the Centaur, landing the wrong way, so her face was near his tail.
WHOA! Sherlock sounded. She sticks the landing! I give it nine out of ten. Now back to you, Mark!
Maria looked up, her breath knocked out of her and her heart beating off of the charts. “You’re not funny, Sherlock.”
I think I am, that’s all that matters.
“Maria, are you all right?” Gramps asked, rushing over to the Centaur’s side.
She sat up. “It could’ve been much worse,” she said. “What, with the little creature trying to bite my face off, and falling, I guess I’m pretty good, all things considered.”
Gramps grimaced. “Ah, you met the Raffins, eh?”
“That was a Raffin!? Geez, Sherlock, I’m sorry for patronizing you about pestering the Raffin back near the forest. That was not a pleasant creature.”
See? I know what I’m doing!
She patted the Centaur’s horseback. “Thanks for breaking my fall, pal.”
“Anytime. Did you get the book?”
Maria hopped down and pulled the book free from her belt, just now realizing the corner had dug pretty deep into her lower abdomen. It would definitely leave a mark; better than Humpty Dumpty-ing all over the Light Elves’ library floor.
“Yep,” Maria said. “Got it right here.” She handed it to the Centaur, whose face lit up in pure enjoyment. She’d never seen such a happy Centaur before in her life…of course, she’d actually never seen a Centaur in the flesh up to that point, either
“Oh, thank you, Maria! You have made my day! I’m glad to have met you kind people.” He was smiling wide, showcasing his human-like teeth.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome. I live to serve. Yada-yada, all that stuff, now give us the information we need.”
The smile disappeared.
Gramps and Sherlock had crowded closer around Maria and the Centaur.
“What’s wrong?” Gramps asked.
He lied, that’s what’s wrong. Never trust a talking half-man, half-horse. Only trust dogs…Bloodhounds in particular.
“Shush,” Maria said.
What? I’m not wrong. Watch!
The Centaur scratched the back of his head with
