Shadow Moon

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Shadow Moon Page 8

by Elysa Hendricks


  At the peak, they stopped briefly for a lunch of cold meat and hard bread, washed down with icy water that streamed from a fissure in the mountainside.

  Overhead, the sun rose, warming the brisk mountain air, until Dale shed her jacket. The thin air provided little protection from the sun's harsh rays as they again moved downward. Her cheeks and nose began to burn. She looked around. Thea would love this surrealistic, beautiful blue and white landscape. How she missed her daughter.

  If she couldn't locate her crystal, how could she get home?

  Shadow held up his hand. “Halt. Wait here."

  Dale's quinar jolted to a stop, jarring her from her thoughts. “Why are we stopping?"

  Shadow didn't answer. Instead he dismounted and crept forward on foot.

  Muscles aching from the unaccustomed exercise, her brain fuzzy with strain, she waited and watched. A pain-filled scream shocked her into awareness. All senses suddenly alert, she tensed.

  The scent of wood smoke and burnt meat drifted on a crisp mountain breeze. Coarse laughter and muffled conversation came from a short distance ahead. Another scream tore through Dale. Some poor creature caught in a trap? An enraged roar vibrated through the pass.

  How could Shadow expect her just to sit and wait? She slid off her quinar and followed him to where he crouched behind a boulder. A few yards away the pass opened into a valley of uncommon beauty. Shimmering blue mountains rose all around, casting a watery aura over the scene. A winding, silver-blue river dissected the lush green grass covering the rolling ground between the peaks. To the left was a stand of what looked like pine trees.

  But Dale's gaze locked on the scene of horror just ahead of them.

  Five men played a cruel game of torture on two large catlike creatures.

  Even from where she crouched, Dale could smell the rancid order of the obviously poorly tanned animal hides the men wore. Long, stringy hair straggled about their dirty leering faces. Even without seeing their current actions, Dale would have sensed the void in their souls. They reeked of evil. More beast-like than the creatures they tortured, these men took pleasure in inflicting pain.

  Dale could see that the two cats weren't really cats, but rather fur-covered bipeds. Except for the fur, the claws and their feline teeth, they were remarkably human in appearance

  The larger of the two animals, a huge black cat-man with hate-filled, green eyes, was trussed in an unnatural position, its front legs behind its back, its hind legs pulled up to meet them. A savage snarl revealed its long gleaming canines. One man stood watch over it, but kept a respectful distance.

  Three men surrounded a smaller white cat which they'd staked spread-eagle to the ground. Its pain-glazed blue eyes pleaded wildly for help.

  A fifth man stood to one side. He dabbed a dirty cloth at deep bloody cuts on his face. His trousers gaped open at his waist, revealing a shriveled pink penis.

  Blood and dirt streaked the sleek white fur between the cat's legs.

  Dale cringed when she realized what these men had been doing.

  "Dirty stinking beast!” the man spat. “I'll skin you alive, you she-cat and throw your still breathing carcass to the hounds! Rip them out! All of them!"

  One of the men stepped hard on the cat's tied down paw, forcing it to extend its claws. Then he bent down and used a plier-like tool to yank out the claw. The animal screamed. The other cat roared, its body struggling uselessly against its bonds.

  Dale's stomach lurched. She gripped Shadow's arm. Restrained anger vibrated beneath her fingers. “We've got to help those animals."

  "The Shakar are not animals. They are intelligent creatures."

  "Whatever they are, we've got to do something."

  "We will do nothing. I will handle this. Stay here."

  Stay? Didn't the man know any other words? She followed on foot as Shadow mounted his quinar and moved to the entrance of the pass.

  For one brief moment, Dale felt like Alice In Wonderland. Then the white cat-person screamed again and the illusion shattered. Though the Red Queen had threatened to lop off Alice's head, no blood was spilled in that story.

  She pulled her knife and prepared for action. Things happened so quickly she never had a chance to assist.

  With a blood curdling battle cry, Shadow launched his quinar into the valley. Swinging his red crystal sword in one hand and his new dagger in the other, he controlled his charging mount with just his knees.

  For a split second the men froze, unable to comprehend the avenging fury descending on them. Then they scattered.

  Shadow swung his sword. A man fell. Eyes wide with surprise, his severed head rolled across the ground and came to rest at Dale's feet.

  Hysterical laughter bubbled in Dale's throat. Shadow as the Red Queen.

  Another man stumbled to a halt. His hands scrabbled uselessly at the dagger buried deep in his back. He fell forward dead.

  Screams echoed through the once peaceful valley. Like a shadow of death, Shadow struck without mercy or warning. Swift and sure, his blows found their mark. Though their crime was heinous, did these men deserve a death penalty? Dale wasn't sure, but she could summon no pity for them.

  "Stop him, you fools! He's only one man!” the scratched man yelled.

  The man guarding the black cat creature turned and fled. Shadow's quinar ran him down. The sword pierced the man's body and lifted him off the ground. His legs continued to pump. He shrieked as the blade protruded from his chest. Then Shadow was gone, the blade with him. The man crumpled to the ground, his life's blood flowing from his body like a crimson river. The acrid smell of blood filled the air.

  The fourth man and the scratched man stumbled to their quinar. They galloped away. Shadow followed.

  Dale fetched her quinar and moved cautiously toward the two cat creatures. When the quinar balked she left it and went to the side of the white Shakar. The creature cringed when Dale lifted her knife.

  "Lie still. I'm here to help you. I'm just going to cut you free."

  "Please, see to my hapal—my brother—first,” the Shakar pleaded.

  Dale glanced at the great black Shakar lying half dozen yards away. Though he was quiet now, his roars still chilled her blood. The red-hot fury burning in his piercing green eyes made her shake her head. She wasn't that brave or foolish. “You first.” She put her blade under the ropes, then hesitated.

  Was it smart to release this creature? Despite its human appearance and language, its lips curled back to reveal sharp canines. Dale had seen the deep bone-baring cuts its claws had inflicted on its captor.

  Blood seeped from the Shakar's fingertips. Three of those claws had been ripped out.

  Dale could only imagine the pain. Her gaze moved over the Shakar's body. Its torso was covered with short soft fur and was obviously female. Blood streaked her inner thighs. This evidence decided Dale's course of action. Whatever the Shakar's outward appearance, this was a woman who'd suffered a terrible invasion of her person. Without further hesitation, Dale sliced through the ropes.

  She grabbed the pack from the back of her quinar then hurried back to the Shakar's side. The Shakar was struggling to stand, but her legs refused to support her. She tumbled into Dale's arms.

  Dale eased her back to the ground, tucked a blanket around her now shivering body and another beneath her head.

  "Easy now. Drink this."

  The Shakar gulped at the canteen of water Dale held to her lips. “Thank you. Please help him,” she croaked.

  "Soon,” Dale hedged. “Can you sit? There that's better. I'm Dale. What's your name?” She spoke soothingly as she cleaned and bandaged the Shakar's hand, and then gently washed the blood from her body.

  Like an injured kitten, the Shakar offered no protest.

  "I am T'ala. T'Mal is my hapal, brother. You have our gratitude for your help. Our lives are yours.” She touched her uninjured hand to her forehead then to Dale's.

  "Speak for yourself, hapala,” T'Mal growled. “I offer nothing to these
humans."

  "T'Mal. This woman and her man saved our lives. Show them respect."

  "Release me, human,” T'Mal demanded.

  "Cut him free. I promise he'll not harm you,” T'ala said.

  Dale shook her head and eased herself from T'ala's side. “Are you strong enough to ride? You can take your captors’ quinar and go home.” With Shadow gone, could she escape? If she left him, could she locate the men who had her crystal? Or would she fall prey to men like the ones who lay dead around her? Even though Shadow claimed he was a slaver, Dale still felt safer in his company than on her own. He knew these mountains. She needed him to guide her.

  "Because of humans, we no longer have a home.” T'Mal managed to pull himself onto his side. His eyes glared hatred at her.

  "Two nights ago, these men and others stole into our compound,” T'ala said. “They poisoned the stream with a drug to render us unconscious. Our father and mother, along with others were struck down and skinned while they yet lived."

  Dale gagged as she followed T'ala's gaze to a furry bundle lying near the campsite.

  T'ala's voice was low and even, but Dale felt the pain she held deep inside. “I'm so sorry."

  "Keep your pity,” T'Mal said. “I will have revenge. Tell this human no more, T'ala.” Pain flooded his eyes.

  "I must speak the horror or else it will eat me away inside, hapal. Please understand,” T'ala begged.

  Slowly, reluctantly, T'Mal nodded. Hate faded from his eyes, replaced by a heart-wrenching sorrow. He rolled so his back faced them.

  Tears burned the back of Dale's eyes. No one should have to suffer such horrors.

  "T'Mal was out hunting, so he was spared. T'Mal's mate, T'Sela, their kits and I were taken captive. When T'Mal returned he discovered the carnage."

  The image of what he must have seen made Dale swallow heavily.

  "He followed the trail until the raiders split up,” T'ala's voice quavered then firmed. “When T'Mal tracked and attempted to rescue us, he was overpowered by their number and captured."

  "Do not make excuses for me, hapala. I was careless in my attack. I underestimated humans. I will not make that mistake again.” He pinned Dale with a hostile stare. “Will you release me, human?"

  "Do I have your word you won't take your revenge out on me or Shadow?” Was she crazy? How could she even consider releasing this man? He could easily rip her apart.

  T'Mal looked around the campsite. Three men lay dead. A severed head rested mere feet from him. Flies, drawn by the smell of blood, buzzed in the quiet.

  "Three lives for two.” He dipped his head. “I'll not harm you or your man. Now, release me, woman."

  At least she'd graduated from human to woman. Dale clutched her dagger and walked over to T'Mal's side. Even trussed for slaughter and his dark fur matted with blood, he radiated power.

  A bird shrieked as Dale leaned forward. She glanced up. Ava circled in the sky above them. Could Raf be far behind? Should she wait?

  "I have your word?"

  "Yes,” T'Mal growled his answer through gritted teeth.

  First, she sliced the bonds holding his legs. He groaned. Anger flashed in his eyes as he lifted his wrists toward her.

  As she cut the ropes, wings spread and talons extended, Ava dived at T'Mal's head. In a blur of motion, T'Mal whipped his arm out. His claws caught Ava's wing and flung her aside. The bird tumbled to the ground and laid still, a bundle of bloody feathers.

  "No!” Dale sprang to the bird's side. She gently gathered the bird into her arms. Ava struggled weakly, and then went limp. “What have you done?"

  T'Mal sat rubbing his arms. “Saved you from having your eyes scratched from your head."

  Chapter Seven

  Reluctantly, Raf turned his quinar back toward the raiders’ campsite. The leader, the man with the cuts on his face, had escaped.

  Raf had taken too long to run down and capture the other man who lay bound and gagged across the front of his saddle. Now, his quinar was winded from carrying a double load. To capture him, Raf had struck down the man's quinar. The man would pay for that death as well as his other crimes. But first he would tell Raf all he knew.

  Raf doubted these were Devros’ men. Devros steered clear of the Shakar. They made terrible slaves. Beautiful and deadly, they were a breed apart, preferring death to captivity. If only he had been as strong.

  Raf had seen the bundle of furs at the campsite and the female staked out for rape. The men he killed had died too easily.

  If they weren't Devros's men, he would not be pleased to learn there were other outlaws operating in the Azul Mountains. He considered these mountains his own. Perhaps Raf could use his captive as a bargaining chip. The man's fate at Devros’ hands would be just punishment for his crimes.

  If they were Devros’ men, there could be trouble. Raf didn't think the leader had seen his face, but he could not be certain. Before he and Dale walked into Devros’ lair, he would have to track down the man and learn the truth. His captive would soon provide him with the information he needed to do so.

  Evening came early as the sun dipped below the mountain peaks. A blue-gray gloom blanketed the isolated valley. He had been gone too long. What trouble had Dale managed to get into?

  The raiders at the campsite were dead, but what if the Shakar had gotten free? Or the leader had doubled back?

  In the heat of battle, he had forgotten that Dale considered herself his prisoner. What if she took it into her head to escape? The mountains held a myriad of dangers for the unprepared.

  He spurred his tired quinar to a quicker pace. His captive groaned.

  The stink of death hovered in the air as Raf approached the quiet campsite. He halted his quinar behind a stand of trees. After securing his captive, he crept toward the three figures huddled around a small campfire.

  The white Shakar's fur gleamed golden in the flickering firelight. She leaned against the dark Shakar, whose black fur rendered him nearly invisible. Only the strange green glow of his eyes revealed his location. Dale sat apart, her shoulders bent. Raf waited.

  "Come out of the darkness, human,” the male Shakar growled. “You cannot sneak up on a Shakar. I hear your breathing and smell your human stink."

  Dale's head shot up and Raf straightened and stepped into the light. “Pleasant greeting for the man who saved your sorry hide."

  "Forgive my hapal. You have our thanks. I am T'ala. This ungrateful one is my brother, T'Mal,” the female Shakar said.

  Dale stood and rushed toward him. Without thinking he held out his arm and she moved into his embrace. Her body trembled as she pressed against him.

  "They think you're my mate,” she whispered.

  He bent his head to hers and whispered back, “Why did you not tell them the truth? The male would undoubtedly attempt to kill me. If he succeeded, you would be free.” To those watching it would appear they were having a sweet reunion.

  "Maybe, but I don't want you dead—just yet.” She turned in his arms so they faced the now standing Shakar together.

  "As my hapala says, you have our thanks, human.” His words were given grudgingly. He peered into the darkness beyond Raf. “What of the two others? Did they escape you?"

  Raf bristled at the disdain in the Shakar's voice. “The leader vanished into the mountains, but the other lies behind those trees."

  "He lives?"

  "For now."

  "Give him to me."

  "No. I have need of him."

  The Shakar's fur bristled. His eyes gleamed. “I demand..."

  Raf pushed Dale behind him. She sputtered a protest, but didn't resist. His hand slid to the hilt of his sword and he braced for an attack.

  "T'Mal.” The female's quiet command eased the growing tension like a cool salve soothes the pain of a burn. “Come sit,” she urged them both. “We will talk."

  Raf hesitated until Dale grabbed his hand and tugged him forward. He sat next to her. The warmth of the fire couldn't touch the cold he fe
lt inside. Though deserved, killing took a toll upon him. His ka ached with the weight of the evil he had seen this day.

  Dale's fingers curled around his. Warmth flooded through him, easing the chill that had invaded his ka. He squeezed gently.

  From a bundle next to the fire Ava squawked. Her head poked up, two dark beady eyes regarded him accusingly.

  "Where have you been?” he asked. The bird had deserted him while he chased the leader. “I could have used your help."

  "Uh, Shadow,” Dale interrupted. “Ava had a little accident. She attacked T'Mal. Protecting himself, he injured her."

  "How badly is she hurt?” Beyond his concern for Ava, Raf needed the bird if his plan was to succeed. He could not retreat now that he was so close.

  "Your Avari will live,” T'ala said. “T'Mal did not mean to harm your pet."

  "My claws tore her wing,” T'Mal explained, but did not apologize for his actions.

  "Her wing will heal,” T'ala hurried to add. “But she should not attempt to fly for several tenday. If she does, the damage may ground her for life."

  Raf reached out to stroke Ava's head. The bird pecked his hand and hopped into Dale's lap. A white strip of cloth bound the bird's wing tightly to her body. With a hostile look at Raf, she snuggled against Dale and tucked her head beneath her uninjured wing.

  T'Mal's laugh rang out. “It seems you are to take the blame, human."

  Dale stroked the bird's ruffled feathers, looked at Raf and shrugged, but her lips quirked upward.

  "An unusual turn of events.” He accepted the avari's desertion with concealed ill grace. If Ava could not or would not fly for him, his plans were doomed.

  "I suggest we all get some rest,” Dale said. “In the morning we can figure out what to do next."

  "I will take first watch,” Raf said.

  "We will watch together, human. You may have saved our lives, but I do not trust you,” T'Mal answered.

  "Nor I you,” Raf answered.

 

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