ANTON COLICOS
By the time Anton, Yazra’h, and Muree’n reached the tense village of Shorehaven, the wyvern had struck twice more.
Although Anton felt uncomfortable and exposed, Yazra’h guarded him as if she were protecting the Mage-Imperator himself. At the shore settlement, she stood scanning the skies and the lush worldforest that extended up the coast, while grim-faced Muree’n held her crystal katana, ready to dispatch the monster herself. They looked as if they expected the hunt to take no more than a few hours, and then they could return to the fungus-reef city to accompany the Mage-Imperator back home. Anton suspected Yazra’h wanted the monster hunt to be long and exciting—a battle of wits and strength, rather than an easy kill. For his own part, Anton just wanted to survive.
Shorehaven was quiet, and the expansive sea looked serene, but Anton saw no boats out on the water this time. Yazra’h tossed her coppery hair. “You are ready to chronicle our great hunt, Rememberer Anton?”
“I already have notes and descriptions. Don’t worry, this will be a story worthy of inclusion in the Saga of Seven Suns.” He just hoped the story didn’t have a tragic end.
The villagers mostly stayed inside their dwellings, afraid to venture far. In the forest, nets stretched across the high fronds had snared numerous edible insects, but the nets were clogged, unharvested. Obviously, no one had retrieved the catch for days.
Yazra’h shouted, calling for anyone from the village, “Hello! We have come to kill your wyvern.” Anton cringed, afraid her voice would draw the creature.
People watched them from inside the dwellings, but only one man emerged from a central building. The village leader, Tristan Cove, stood straight but his face was haggard. “Did Father Peter and Mother Estarra send you?”
Muree’n stepped in front of Yazra’h. “We sent ourselves. We are part of the Ildiran delegation with Mage-Imperator Jora’h.”
Anton cleared his throat. “These two are very skilled warriors, Mr. Cove—don’t underestimate them.”
As they stood in the main village street, not far from the lakeshore, Anton could hear the waves rippling, but otherwise there was utter silence; he wondered if he would hear the swoop and buzz of wyvern wings.
The village leader said, “So long as the wyvern is dispatched, no one in Shorehaven will care who does it. But we already have a hunter.”
Anton was poised to take notes. “Another hunter?”
“Our green priest. Beltrias.”
The tall green-skinned man emerged from the thick forest; he had covered his smooth green skin with camouflage markings that interwove with the symbolic tattoos signifying his areas of expertise. A prominent fresh design stood out on his forehead, an arrow with a barbed tip.
“I am more than a green priest now. I am a hunter and a fighter, a stalker of monsters.” Beltrias had slipped a longbow over his shoulder, a new weapon made from greenwood; arrows filled a quiver on his back, and he wore a dagger tucked into a woven belt that encircled his waist. In his right hand, he held a throwing spear.
Muree’n ran her gaze up and down his form, but did not seem impressed. “And your experience as a hunter?”
“My experience includes all the human knowledge that is stored within the worldforest,” Beltrias said. “I vowed to kill the wyvern, and so I went into the forest and spent days immersed in the verdani mind. I searched all records, all stories, every piece of knowledge about hunting, tracking, killing wild game.” His gaze was distant. “I drank it all in, let that knowledge become part of me. Beltrias the green priest entered the thicket, but Beltrias the hunter emerged.”
Yazra’h nodded. “That is acceptable. We are happy to hunt with you.”
“The wyvern does not stand a chance,” Muree’n added.
Anton knew he would be the weakest link in the expedition, by far. “Maybe I should stay in Shorehaven, talk to the villagers and gather a larger story.”
Yazra’h stepped closer to him, placed a steel-hard hand on his shoulder. “I will protect you, Rememberer Anton. You will be safe during the hunt.”
“It’s not just my safety that concerns me. If you have to worry about protecting me as well as defending yourself, I may endanger you.”
Yazra’h rested the butt end of her katana on the open ground near the shore. “You must be the one to chronicle this adventure. No one else can be trusted to tell the tale properly. We may be hunters, but you are a rememberer. We will kill the wyvern in a day or two, but thanks to your efforts, our hunt will be remembered for centuries.”
Muree’n nodded solemnly. “Yes, Rememberer Anton, you must go along.”
Anton knew it would be folly to argue with the two warrior women, so he gave a nod. “I just want to be sure I don’t hinder you.”
“I am not worried,” Yazra’h said in a tone that ended the discussion.
Beltrias said, “I’m only concerned with killing the wyvern and restoring peace to Shorehaven.” He turned to the trees. “I have set up traps. The creature has a foraging zone that extends well up the coast, and I know it will return here. The monster has established a habit of hunting humans.”
Muree’n asked, “I want to hunt, not wait. With a territory so great, how will we find it?”
Beltrias smiled. “When I touch the trees, I see through thousands of verdani. I can sense the stirring fronds and the movements of creatures. Even though the wyvern is lost within the ecological web, I can look deep and can find signs of its passage. I can take us to where it is.”