Beramun faced Roki. The older woman stood a step away, holding her spear reversed. She’d subdued the amorous chief with the butt-end of her weapon. Zannian was unconscious.
“Why didn’t you stab him with the point?” Beramun demanded.
Roki shook her head. “I’ve never killed a man.”
“Nor have I, but if ever there was a time — ” She tried to wrench the spear from the woman’s grasp, but Roki resisted.
“We must go!” the older woman whispered urgently. “The night wears on, and we must be far away before they discover we left.”
Beramun poured sticky mead over the lifeless Zannian. If anyone came looking for him before daybreak, they’d think him drunk and not raise an alarm. She relieved him of his bronze Silvanesti dagger, a hawk feather cloak, the only full waterskin in sight, and a round of mushroom bread.
Roki stood guard by the door, urging speed. Beramun took a last look around, and they dashed outside and plunged into the forest on the north side of the camp. The forest swallowed them, and in moments Almurk was lost from view.
The rising sun was the only witness to their flight. The heavy weave of vines, trees, and hanging moss kept out all but a little light. What could be seen sparkled through minute gaps in the canopy, like daytime stars.
The initial excitement of their escape passed quickly as Roki and Beramun found their pace slowed to an elder’s walk. They crept along, probing ahead with their spears, searching for carnivorous monsters and footing firm enough to support their weight. The necessity for the latter had been borne in on them the hard way. While it was still dark, Beramun stepped in a morass. She lost Zannian’s hawk feather cloak to the dragging embrace of the mire, and only Roki’s timely intervention saved her life. Thereafter they went single file through the dense undergrowth, poking and prodding the black soil carefully.
Just after daybreak, they paused to rest under an elm so large the two of them could not circle its trunk with their arms. Covered in sweat and mud, they sat under the vast tree and quickly consumed the bread and water they’d stolen from Zannian.
They had just begun to scrape the mud from their legs with elm twigs when they heard the howling. The twig fell from Roki’s hand.
“What’s that? Wolves?”
Beramun leapt to her feet. “No. Yevi! They’re hunting us!”
They ran, pointing their noses at the brightest patch of sky, east. Beramun kept glancing back toward the sound of the hunting pack.
Haste made them careless. Dodging around in thick underbrush, Beramun became separated from Roki. Before she could worry about that, the ground went treacherous again. Her foot sank into muck up to her ankle, and she went sprawling. Zannian’s bronze dagger flew from her hand.
She had no time to search for it. Something low and gray flitted through the dense foliage off to her left. Leaves and twigs snapped continuously behind her. Her pursuers were very close!
A woman’s scream rent the air. Roki! Beramun ran toward the sound, snatching at trees and saplings to keep her feet from sinking into the soft soil. A dozen paces along she came to a shallow, soggy ravine. To her horror, she saw Roki, pinned on her back by a large yevi. The beast was vaguely wolflike, with shaggy gray fur, pointed ears, and a long, fanged muzzle. There the resemblance ended. Twice as large as any wolf, the creature’s limbs were unnaturally long and bent forward at the knee, unlike the back-crook of a canine leg. Instead of padded paws, the monster had distinct fingers with which it gripped the fallen woman’s arms.
Roki and the beast struggled. She could no longer scream with the creature at her throat. The monster seemed to be trying to throttle her into submission.
Beramun took up Roki’s dropped spear and thrust it hard into the animal’s flank. It immediately released its prey and let out a weird, yelping cry: Ye-ye-ye!
The bestial cry was answered from the surrounding trees. Terrified, Beramun leaned on the spear shaft and drove it home. The gray beast collapsed in a welter of purplish blood. Beramun wrenched out the spear and knelt by Roki.
The older woman’s eyes were open but unseeing. Beramun shook her and called her name. Roki’s throat was horribly twisted, though the skin was unbroken. Pressing her ear to the older woman’s chest, Beramun heard no heartbeat. The beast had crushed Roki’s windpipe.
Tears welled in Beramun’s eyes. She stood and plunged the spear again and again into the carcass of the dead creature, screaming out her anguish.
Ye-ye-ye!
The weird cries sounded again, louder, closer. They penetrated Beramun’s fury, and she froze, panting, spear raised for yet another thrust. Staring down at Roki’s body, she vowed not to let these evil beasts take her alive.
Scrambling out of the gully and still weeping copiously, Beramun straggled on, slashing at a tangle of creepers with her spear. She heard the rush of moving water ahead.
The hated yelping cry came again — so much closer now that Beramun put on a burst of speed. She dived through a wall of green vines and suddenly found herself in midair. With a breathless cry, she plunged into water.
Holding her spear and kicking with her feet, she rose to the surface and looked back. A pair of the hideous gray creatures stood at the gap she’d made in the wall of vines at the river’s edge. Though they continued their howling and slavering, tearing at the vines with savagery, they couldn’t or wouldn’t jump in after her. With a surge of bitter triumph, Beramun let her spear go and began to swim in earnest.
Alternately swimming and floating on her back to rest, Beramun outdistanced her pursuers. The current was steady but not swift, and she had no trouble staying afloat. After almost a league, the water grew shallower, and she found herself bumping over algae-slick rocks. The stream widened into a calm lake, whose shore was dotted with cypress and yew trees, heavy with hanging moss. A small green island rose up in the center of the lake. Beramun swam to it.
The island, little more than a hump of tangled tree roots encrusted with mud, had no beach to speak of, but she dragged herself out of the water and hid among the cypress knees. There were no signs of pursuit. Gradually, her heart ceased to hammer, and her breathing slowed. Wrung out with fear and grief, Beramun eventually slept.
When she woke it was dark and cold. Wind stirred the placid surface of the lake, drawing the warmth from her limbs and leaving her shivering. Her shift was in tatters and afforded her little more than protection for modesty. She tore off handfuls of moss and stuffed them inside her shirt for warmth. It didn’t help much. Hunger gnawed at her belly.
A broad shadow passed over the island. Beramun cowered, glancing anxiously upward. She saw nothing but cypress trees and hanging moss. Working her way out of her hiding place, she stood in the small clearing at the heart of the island and surveyed the sky.
Lutar was well up in the sky. A large cloud, driven by the south wind, hung close to the crimson moon. It must have caused the shadow, she decided.
Shivering harder now, she wondered if she dared build a fire. There was certainly enough tinder on the island, and cypress wood for a firebow. While she hesitated, weighing comfort against safety, Beramun didn’t see the massive claw behind her slowly closing. When she finally felt the pressure around her waist, it was too late.
She screamed once and tore at the hard, scaly claw, but her efforts were futile. Hoisted into the air, she found herself face to face with the green dragon once more.
“Little rodent,” Sthenn said, voice dripping menace, “I was beginning to think you’d never wake up.”
Strength drained from her limbs like sand from a sieve. She could fight no more. She would follow Roki to the land of their ancestors where her parents waited.
The dragon shook her. “Wake up,” he said crossly. “Wake up, or I’ll put you to sleep forever!”
“What’s stopping you?” she murmured.
“This has been great fun,” Sthenn replied, showing his decayed, ragged fangs. “Hunting humans is quite stimulating. I must remember to do it more often.”
“Some day,” Beramun said, “the rodents will strike back.”
