it, than the sensation began creeping up her leg.
The open end of the log pointed to the sky. A man of normal height on foot could not see into the log, but an elf on horseback could. Nianki saw Balif ride by, his aquiline profile dark against the bright sky. He didn’t see her.
Whatever was crawling on her had reached the small of her back. Nianki resisted an urge to bolt from her hiding place. If she was still, it would leave her alone. If she didn’t bother it, it wouldn’t bother her. That was true, yes?
Dry and cool to the touch, the thing passed over her right shoulder. The sensation was maddening, made all the worse because she could not squirm, scratch, or reach back to find out what it was. When it brushed Nianki’s right ear, she clenched her eyes shut so tightly tears oozed from the corners. Her breath came in ragged little puffs, lips pressed together, nostrils flaring.
Something passed by her cheek. She opened one eye, her right, and saw a blur of green and black. Her stomach knotted. Green and black were the colors of the ground viper, the most poisonous snake in the forest. If its head was by her cheek, and she could still feel it slithering across her heel, the viper must be at least two paces long.
The snake’s thick triangular head dipped below her jaw, seeking the bottom of the log. Nianki’s hands were clenched into fists under her chin, her arms pinned in place by the tight confines of her sanctuary. She held her breath again as more of the snake crossed under her face. She had one chance of escaping both the viper and the elves. It required absolute accuracy, even by the poor light inside the log. As the snake turned its head left to make room for the rest of its bulky body, Nianki struck. She opened her mouth wide and bit down hard. She had to get close enough behind the serpent’s head so that it couldn’t bite her in return. If it did, she would die inside this moldering old log.
Scales gritted between her teeth. The snake’s pliant bones resisted, then broke under the pressure. Hissing furiously, the snake’s body coiled and flailed. Nianki pushed her right hand out and grabbed the angry serpent. A flickering sensation against her left eye was the viper’s tongue, lashing in vain. Nianki ground her jaws together, into the meat of the snake. Its struggles diminished. She pulled with her hand against the grip of her own teeth and the viper’s head came off. She held on until she was sure it was dead, then she spat it out.
All through her silent battle, the hubbub outside had grown louder. Triumphant cries gave way to screams and obvious maledictions. Nianki heard running and the unmistakable sounds of falling. They must have found her shirt — and the hornets’ nest.
Weary, she lowered her head to the lichen-coated wood. She remained in the log until well after the round patch of blue sky at the open end had changed first to purple, then to black.
At last Nianki crawled out. Listening carefully for prowling elves, she stretched her cramped body. All she heard was the normal nightly chorus of frogs and crickets. She saw the pale splotch of her shirt lying on the ground. Shivering from the cool night air, she retrieved it and quickly put it on.
Nianki pulled from the hollow tree the long carcass of the snake she’d killed. Properly dried, viper meat was good to eat. She slung the dead snake over her shoulder and, with the stars as her guide, began the trek away from the elves’ country.
As she walked, the words of the old man at the seashore came back to her. Powerful in spirit, but difficult to deal with. In her opinion, the elves were a difficulty, but not insurmountable. They seemed less dangerous than the vile beasts that had taken her family, and yet…
She grasped the cold smooth body of the dead snake. There were things in the wilderness a good hunter couldn’t ignore, things that wouldn’t leave you alone even if you were quiet and still.
Plainsmen were leaving the south to escape the elves. Nianki would go, too. Her mother’s people would be gone anyway. There was no help for her to be had, no hands to rely on but her own.
So be it.
Chapter 6
Squeezing through the large upper opening in the cave wall, Duranix dropped four smoldering goat carcasses on the floor. In his true shape, he filled the great cave to an alarming degree. Amero ducked and dodged the dragon’s feet and tail, yet still managed to catch a stunning blow from one of Duranix’s wingtips. Seeing his discomfort, Duranix resumed human form.
Amero picked himself up from the cave floor, grumbling, “It’s like being a mouse in a bear’s den.”
“I see I’ll have to remain small for you.”
“Is it hard for you to stay in your man-shape?”
“It’s confining, but there are some advantages. Being human muffles my senses somewhat, which makes it easier to be around you.”
Amero touched a steaming haunch. He snatched his fingers back and blew on them. “What do you mean?”
Duranix wrenched off a charred goat leg. The sizzling meat didn’t burn him at all. “Humans smell bad. Odors stick to that soft skin of yours. While I’m in human form, the smell doesn’t bother me as much.”
Amero could smell nothing but burned goat flesh. He asked the dragon why the animals were so seared.
“I take them down with bolts of lightning,” Duranix explained. “That way I don’t have to chase them so long. Also, seared meat is more digestible than raw.”
Though his skepticism was evident, when the goat cooled Amero tried cooked meat for the first time. At first it tasted dirty, as if it had been dropped on the ground, but under the charred crust the meat was tender and tasted less burned. To his surprise, Amero found himself enjoying the dragon’s fare.
Human-sized or not, Duranix had the appetite of his larger form. He ate three of the goats and most of the fourth, leaving Amero to snatch what he could in between. When Duranix was done, only a few bones remained. His stomach ought to have been bulging alarmingly, but he looked no different than before. Amero gathered up the leftover bones and put them on the pile at the rear of the cave.
When he returned, he found Duranix at the lower opening, gazing out. His usual breezy manner was suddenly subdued. “What troubles you?” Amero asked.
“The yevi have entered the plain in strength,” said the dragon. “Though they try to hide from me, I counted more than a hundred between the western forest and the fork of the Plains River. I can only assume even more are roaming the regions I didn’t inspect.”
“What does it mean?”
“It means hard times for you humans. The yevi will sweep your small hunting bands from the plain before winter sets in.” Duranix turned to regard his young friend. “The destruction of your family will be repeated many times.”
Amero knew what that meant. His sleep was still troubled by nightmares of his family’s destruction. In his dreams, he had to watch helplessly, unable to move, as Oto, Kinar, Nianki, and Menni were torn apart by ravening yevi.
He said urgently, “Can’t you stop them?”
Duranix clasped his hands behind his back. “I am only one. They are many.”
“Why is this happening?” Amero demanded, pacing up and down behind Duranix. “Where do the yevi come from?”
“They come from the depths of the great marsh that lies on the far side of the western forest. There Sthenn plots to displace free creatures, like you humans, with his own minions. He’s a green dragon, my elder by a thousand years, and a clever, vicious character. He’s tried to kill me before. When I was but a hatchling, he brought down an avalanche on our nest, killing my two clutchmates and grievously wounding my mother.”
For the first time Amero felt a common bond with his fantastic protector. Both of them had lost their families, and both, ultimately, to the same villain.
“Why did Sthenn try to kill you?” Amero asked. “Why does he try to wipe out the plainsfolk?”
Duranix turned away from the dark door. For a moment, Amero saw his eyes gleam in the dim light.
“You’ve lived long enough to know the world is made up of competing forces. Red ants fight the black ants.
