The Secrets of the Moonstone Heir: Book One of The Scale Seekers

by A. R. Cook

  “Say what??” Mac brought Kurl around to block Desert Rain’s path. “No offense, but you can’t-tkk stop a Nasty like that-tkk. That’s a job for professionals-ssck. Now hop on, I bet we can catch up with the others before it-tkk gets too dark-kk.”

  “I’m going to Syphurius,” Desert Rain repeated, and she coolly walked around Kurl and

  continued on.

  Mac scratched his head. My, this Gila Gul was strange. Why she would think she had to go face a Nasty, he couldn’t get through his head. But then again, Hijn were curious critters. He tapped Kurl with his foot, and the strongback continued to follow alongside Desert Rain.

  “I’m not going back,” Desert Rain said. “If you wish to get to Vaes Galahar before dark, I suggest you turn around now.”

  “What kind of gentle-lizard would I be if I let a Gila Gul go fight-tkk some scary Nasty all by herself? Ain’t nobody else gonna to do it-tkk, so I’ll do it-tkk.”

  Desert Rain halted, looking up at Mac. “This isn’t a game, Mac. Katawa is dangerous. You’ve seen what he can do. I’m not altogether sure what I’m going to do myself when I get there. I hope I can find Swordmaster Skyhan.”

  “The Swordmaster…now there’s someone who could fix this mess-ssck.” Mac nodded in agreement. “I betcha he’s on his way right now to stop that-tkk Nasty.”

  “I hope so. But Sir Skyhan might need help. I don’t know what I could do, but this is my responsibility.” She started her trek again.

  Mac blinked in confusion. He beckoned Kurl along. “Now why would you think-kk this is your responsibility?”

  Desert Rain lowered her head. “It’s a long story.”

  “Well, we have time before we get to Syphurius-ssck. You can tell me every li’l thing. Come on up, let Kurl do the walking for you-clk.”

  Mac reached a hand down, which Desert Rain took and he lifted her up to sit behind him. Desert Rain was hesitant to talk at first, but then she told him her story. She told him of how Katawa came into her household, how she cared for him, how he had regained his memories, and what horrid things he had done and was most likely planning to do. Mac took all this in as a child takes in a fairy tale, with awe and apprehension.

  “My, my, my,” was all he could say when she finished. “Who says hermits don’t lead exciting lives-ssck?”

  “‘Exciting’ is not the word I would use,” Desert Rain sighed.

  “Hey hey, now don’t get sad, Gila. Now, admittedly, I wouldn’t-tkk help a Nasty if given the chance, but you were trying to do a good thing. It’s that no-good Kat…Kata… whatever, that’s done the dirty deeds-ssck. And we have a sayin’ in the Bayou: ‘The snake that eats-ssck the mouse better watch himself, ‘cause that mouse might-tkk have a mongoose for a friend.’” Mac turned to look at her over his shoulder with a smile. “I’ll be your mongoose-ssck for you. How’s about that?”

  Desert Rain smiled warmly. “You’re very kind, Mac. But I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Me? Get hurt? You’re talking to the Swamp Slam champion,” Mac laughed. “I’ve taken down a big ol’ croc-kk or two in my time. There ain’t much that can put Macapailius-ssck L. Zarr six feet-tkk under.”

  Desert Rain chuckled softly.

  “There we go, we got you to brighten up a bit-tkk.” He patted Desert Rain’s knee.

  “I can’t imagine you wrestling crocodiles,” Desert Rain said.

  Mac shrugged. “Well, admittedly, they were foot-longers-ssck…”

  ***

  “General!” The young elven squire came running over from his post, flustered as a startled squirrel. He attempted to stuff his small telescope into a leather pouch on his belt, but was having trouble doing so since he had not collapsed it. He had been on lookout on the far side of the field, and was now stumbling over the grassy terrain, for his boots were a bit too large for him. His wooden armor, consisting of shoulder guards, arm and leg gauntlets, and a simple breastplate, signified his beginning status, as opposed to General Valdrase’s full armor, painted with hunter green and gold designs, including the emblem of an impressive, and portly, earth salamander.

  The general let out a groan as the squire approached. The young elf was the jitteriest soldier that he had ever had in his troop. Valdrase had put the boy on watch duty simply to keep him out of his camp, for the general had gotten frustrated with all the boy’s neurotic tendencies. The squire was good for something, however: he was by far the loudest squire, and could send an audible warning shout from close to a mile away. The warning shouts, unfortunately, were usually over nothing.

  It had not helped that Valdrase’s nerves were already ragged, having had to turn his troops around when they had been on their way home to Juka Basin. His stay in Syphurius up until then had been a relief, since the Knights of Luuva had recently defeated the Blooburn army and they needed the luxurious rest. The Ahshi knights had barely reached two-days journey from the metropolis when a messenger hawk from the Syphurian mayors intercepted them. Valdrase wasted no time in returning with his men to the city, and was stunned to find how much havoc one Wretched had caused in such little time. He had kept vigilant watch at his post for the last few days, but the wait for the other Knights to arrive was making him anxious.

  “What is it this time, squire?” General Valdrase asked, flinging his mantle over his shoulder.

  The boy saluted, then took a minute to regain his breath and adjust his boots. “Two outsiders, my lord. Coming this way…on a strongback…suspicious-looking.”

  Everything to you looks suspicious, the general wanted to say. Instead, he asked, “Of what

  manner are these strangers? If they ride a strongback, they may be merchants.”

  “Can’t say for sure. One was a man, human from what I could see, but the other was a woman who was…uh…” The squire rubbed the nape of his neck. “She was peculiar, sir.”

  General Valdrase cocked an eyebrow. “Peculiar, eh? Go out there and tell them to turn around. No one gets into Syphurius. But don’t tell them what the trouble is, if they don’t already know.”

  “Naturally, I would have, sir. But…” The squire took a second to prepare his next statement. “I’m thinking that woman might be…I mean, ‘cause she looks so odd… and she’s got a marking on her face…”

  Valdrase was rapidly losing patience. “What are you getting at, squire?”

  “I was thinking she might be Hijn, my lord,” the squire quickly sputtered.

  Valdrase blinked in surprise. He had heard that all of the Hijn had gathered in a secret meeting place to discuss the matter of this Wretched who had single-handedly overtaken Syphurius. The one Hijn who might not be at that meeting would be the Swordmaster, for he would surely come to eradicate the demon himself. But a female Hijn? He could not imagine who that could be.

  “Thank you for the report, squire. You are dismissed.”

  The boy gave a quick bow, and then darted off.

  The general smoothed back his almond-brown hair, which had traces of green from the Ahshibana blended into it. Ahshi elves were very close to Nature, and shared one of the most unique symbiotic relationships in all of Luuva Gros, that with the Ahshibana. The mossy organism formed a swirling vine pattern that adorned the Ahshi’s pale skin—one might say it looked like fancy body art. The symbiosis was mutual; the plants generated a great amount of sugar through photosynthesis, more than the plant truly needed, so this extra sugar went to the Ahshi, giving them extra energy and allowed them to go without food for extended periods of time, if need be. The algae also possessed medicinal chemicals, strengthening the body’s immune system and increasing the recovery rate of wounds. In turn, the elves provided the Ahshibana with a safe home, for the Ahshibana had almost been devoured to extinction by animals on the forest floor. Also, the plant never needed to worry about lack of moisture, for even when there was drought, the Ahshi could travel to find another water supply.

  Valdrase pondered for a bit, and then walked about his camp, selecting a couple of el
ves who would accompany him to go out into the field.

  I’ll have to take a look at this Hijn for myself, he thought.

  ***

  Desert Rain, Mac, and Kurl were exhausted, the trek having taken twice as long as it had when Desert Rain had come by laspher. Strongbacks had great endurance, not speed.

  Desert Rain’s ears twitched as she heard something like a rolling of soft thunder coming towards them.

  “Mac, I think something’s coming our way,” she said.

  Her suspicion was confirmed when they saw the silhouettes of three figures on large elks approaching from the distance.

  “This is-ssck no trouble,” Mac said, although there was a hint of doubt in his voice. “Even if they’re thieves, we don’t-ttk have anything for them to steal.”

  “What if they want to fight? Kurl can’t possible outrun them.”

  “Like-kk I said before, they’re dealing with the Swamp Slam champion.”

  The three elkriders came to a halt before the strongback, who plodded slowly to a stop. There was no transaction for a minute, the two parties merely observing one another. Desert Rain took in the men’s stylized wooden armor, their emerald capes, their pointed ears, and the strange swirling green designs on their skins. She recognized their race instantly, although she had not seen Ahshi other than Clova for a long time.

  The elf in the middle, who from the appearance of his armor must have been the highest-ranking officer, was trying his best to look past Mac at the girl behind him. “What business do you travelers have here?”

  “We’re going to Syphurius-ssck, if you all don’t mind,” Mac answered.

  “No one can go to Syphurius. The city’s been evacuated and no one is allowed in until further notice.” The general rode his elk forwards so that he was besides Kurl, getting a closer view of the two riders. A red-haired human and a woman with golden skin…how very strange.

  “Are you a Knight of Luuva, sir?” Desert Rain asked, not so much out of curiosity but to break the uncomfortable silence.

  “Yes, milady,” the elven Knight replied. “I am Sir Valdrase Yon-Ahshi. I and my company are stationed on this side of the city. I wouldn’t put any hopes on finding another way in. There are guards positioned on every side.”

  “I need to get into the city. It’s very important that I do,” Desert Rain said.

  “Impossible.” The general continued to scrutinize her. “From where do you hail?”

  “Well, I was born in a quaint li’l shack-kk on a quaint li’l pond—” Mac began.

  “Not you,” Sir Valdrase snapped. He looked back at Desert Rain. “You. Where are you from?”

  “Not too far outside Ulomin,” she responded. “Why do you ask?”

  The Knight did not reply, at least not to that question. “Why do you need, as you claim, to go to Syphurius?”

  Desert Rain was not sure at first if she should reveal that she knew the situation, but she had no choice if she was to be taken seriously. “A group of exiled Syphurians came into Ulomin a few days ago. They told me of the Wretched who drove them out. I have come a long way so that I can help.”

  “Help?” Valdrase did not scoff at this, not yet. “How could one such as yourself help?”

  “I…” Desert Rain found herself for lack of words. “To be honest,” she eventually said, “I hadn’t planned it so far as that yet.”

  Valdrase furled his brow. “Do you think you could possibly fight this demon? We have sent in scout after scout to report the Wretched’s whereabouts in the city, and none have returned. Are you trained with a weapon?”

  Desert Rain felt positively stupid as she sheepishly shook her head.

  “Do you know any form of self-defense?”

  The girl once again shook her head.

  “I don’t suppose…” The general gave Desert Rain an odd, expectant look. “You are skilled in magic?”

  “No,” Desert Rain replied, almost too quickly.

  The elf frowned. “Then perhaps you are not what I suspected you were.”

  “If you mean, am I Hijn, yes, I am,” Desert Rain confirmed, although not proudly.

  “I see. It is my honor to speak with you, Hijn of the…” Valdrase paused, trying to figure out what she, exactly, was Hijn of. He looked at the blue stone on her forehead…a moonstone? Perhaps…no, it couldn’t be, not this wisp of a girl. He shifted in his saddle and cleared his throat. “May I ask why you are here, and not with the other Hijn in council?”

  “I…don’t have much say in the business of the other Hijn.” Desert Rain narrowed her gaze. “Not to be rude, Sir Valdrase, but I really don’t have time to answer these questions. I must go to Syphurius now, if you will grant me permission.”

  “I cannot allow civilians to put themselves in danger, even if they should have suicidal tendencies. Why should I let you, with no weapon, no fighting skill, and not even a feasible plan, to go into a place where a Wretched is running loose?”

  Even Mac looked to Desert Rain for an answer. The Hijn fidgeted with her fingers for a moment, before replying, “I thought…maybe…I could try and reason with him.”

  There came some muffled chuckling from the other two elves. Sir Valdrase smiled at the woman’s naivety. He spoke respectfully to her, although he was tempted to laugh. “I would think a Hijn would know more about the Wretched. It is impossible to reason with them. That Wretched would kill you before you could even get a word out!”

  “I don’t think he will,” Desert Rain said. “He had the chance once.”

  Sir Valdrase’s grin dropped drastically. He stared perplexedly at her. “You’ve met him before?”

  “His name is Katawa. The reason he’s doing this, I believe, is to draw out Swordmaster Skyhan so he can kill him.”

  “By the Divine Beasts…” Valdrase rubbed his forehead. “I do not know the whereabouts of Sir Skyhan. I will send this message out to the other camps, but unless Sir Skyhan makes himself present to us, I fear there is no way to warn him of this.” The elf paused a moment. “How is it that you know all this?”

  Desert Rain lowered her gaze. Before she could answer, Mac interrupted.

  “Look here,” the lizard-man retorted. “I think-kk the li’l lady has answered enough of your darn questions, and even given you important-tkk info. Now unless you’re gonna toss-ssck us a sword or a club or something, I suggest you scoot-tkk outta our way and let us by.”

  Valdrase glanced at Mac haughtily. “I shall have to think about this for a while,” he finally decided. “Meanwhile, both of you and your strongback look tired. Please join us at our camp to refresh yourselves.”

  Desert Rain and Mac certainly could not argue with that. They were led to the elves’ camp, where they were welcomed into General Valdrase’s tent and treated to fruit, wine, and bread. Mac was disappointed to learn that the Ahshi rarely, if ever, ate meat, which was what he was hankering for.

  They ate in silence, while Valdrase continued to ponder over the Hijn. Hijn were supposed to be the best of all magic users, and yet this one claimed to have no magic. She was such a humble thing, too, not at all having the stately presence of a Hijn. Yet, if she really had met this demon before, and survived…

  “Tell me, Miss…” Valdrase paused, realizing that he had not asked her name yet.

  “Desert Rain.” She slowly drummed her long fingers on her cup of wine, as she stared into the dark liquid.

  “Tell me, Miss Desert Rain, do you know this demon well enough to know if it has any weaknesses?”

  She let out a heavy sigh. “No, although I wonder if he is not at his strongest. He was ill for a long time, and I don’t think he ever fully recovered.”

  “Ill?” Valdrase’s face grew dark. “That seems to be a very personal piece of knowledge.”

  Desert Rain closed her eyes for a moment. She reopened them, and they possessed a new glint of determination. She set her cup down. “Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Valdrase, but I must be on my way.”

  “
Hold it, I haven’t given you permission to—”

  “Are you going to stop me if I go?”

  “Yes. By the Knights’ code, I have to.”

  “How?”

  Valdrase’s expression was creeping towards irritated anger. “It wouldn’t be that difficult.”

  Desert Rain’s countenance, too, was beginning to harden. “Would you strike me?”

  Valdrase was almost shocked by the question that sounded an awful lot like a dare. “Of course not. I would never strike a lady, or a Hijn.”

  “You would soon send another spy into the city anyway. Why not let that be me?”

  “Anyone I send in would have to be armed and—”

  “Then lend me a weapon.”

  Valdrase was close to grabbing Desert Rain and shaking some sense into her, but he restrained himself. “You said that you don’t know how to wield any weapons!”

  Desert Rain wiped a hand over her face. “My brothers showed me how to use a bow and arrow when I was little. I’m pretty sure I could use one of those.”

  “A bow isn’t going to do you any good if you can’t…” Valdrase stopped, and shook his head. He saw that this argument could go on forever. Women were so stubborn.

  Desert Rain’s face was set as rigidly as stone. There was something penetrating about her green eye, something chilling. It made Valdrase hesitate, even freeze entirely. It was like looking into the eye of a dragon—and not a particularly friendly one.

  “Try to understand,” he said as slowly as one speaks to a small child, “I am sworn to protect the innocent. If I allowed you to go, I would be breaking the Knighthood’s code of honor. That would be death for both of us.”

  “Why do you care what happens to me?” Desert Rain asked. “I’m not a Syphurian. I’m not much of anything.” She paused, as if realizing the truth of that statement. She sighed. “And if you’re devoted to your code of honor, then you understand that by keeping me from doing my duty, you are mocking my honor.”

  This created a surprising effect in Valdrase. He was struck speechless. Fortunately—or unfortunately—Mac filled in the gap of silence, coughing to clear his throat.