The lizardfolk’s arms rippled with muscle. Its scales were the color of palm fronds, touched here and there with spots of brown or lighter green, as a human might be dusted with freckles. Its long neck was adorned with a necklace of turquoise stones, identical to the belt that held up its loincloth. The frill that stretched from the back of its head and ran down its spine was fully erect, a sign she’d been told by fellow Pathfinders meant aggression, although the pointed spear was already a fair indicator.
“These are the lands of the Karshnaar,” it continued in a rasping voice. “Leave.” Was its deep voice a sign of masculinity?
Mirian hoped she sounded calmer than she felt. “I come seeking Kalina.”
Her challenger’s head tilted a minute degree. “For what reason?”
“I am the daughter of Leovan Raas. The man Kalina spoke with about salvaging.”
“Salvaging,” the lizardfolk repeated, awkwardly. “I do not know that word. But the Raas man is completed, and his hatchling sent us away.”
Hatchling? She wondered how her brother would react to that description. “I’m his other hatchling. Can we continue this talk with lowered blades?”
“You enter our land without ceremony.”
“I ask your pardon. I wasn’t sure where your territory began.” Again she wondered how this tribe had existed so close to human lands without coming into conflict before, especially if they challenged all human visitors.
“Jekka!” The higher-pitched voice rang through the jungle behind Mirian.
The lizardfolk with the spear hissed. Its long, slim red tongue flicked out to taste the air. Its snout was longer and slimmer than the lizardfolk Mirian had seen before.
Mirian stepped to the side as another lizardfolk came trotting up. The new one was slightly smaller and wore a kind of armored disk that nearly obscured its torso, as well as a tanned loincloth that matched the other’s, held up by a similar belt decorated with stones of polished turquoise. In one hand it carried a distinctive axe with a blade almost the length of Mirian’s machete.
The two creatures exchanged a string of vocalizations that sounded something like low-pitched bird calls. Mirian studied them and the way the skin that wasn’t a true lip pulled back to reveal sharp teeth as they spoke. She longed to break into her pack and sketch one or both of them, but settled for memorizing their features.
The eyes in both faces were not cold and blank like a snake’s, but alive with curiosity. Their snouts projected like a hound’s muzzle rather than a bird’s beak. Some colonials called the lizardfolk “frillbacks,” but the frills on the Karshnaar were small, stretching only from the base of their spines to the backs of their heads.
At the conclusion of their talk, the sentry lowered its spear, its head half turned so it could speak to both Mirian and the newcomer.
The sentry’s frill had begun to droop, the way a dog’s hackles lowered. It stepped aside, its amber eyes boring into Mirian’s own as its companion stepped forward.
“I am Kalina,” the second creature said. “You have come to our lands to speak with me?”
So the new one was female. Mirian curtsied with a pluck at the sides of her pants. “I have. I am Mirian, daughter of Leovan Raas.”
Kalina’s head cocked to one side, birdlike. Her own coloring had none of her companion’s freckling. Was that, too, a sexual characteristic? “Your markings are different,” she said. “More like your mother’s.”
“I take after her.”
Kalina blinked large golden eyes. “Your mother was kind to us.”
“She is a kind woman.”
“But you are a warrior. I see it. You are not like your brother. Speak, daughter of Leovan Raas.”
“I want to work with you. As my father planned.”
“It is too late for that,” the sentry said.
Kalina’s head whipped swiftly around on the snaky neck, and her voice was sharp. “It is not too late, Jekka.”
“Am I, chief warrior, to take orders about safety from the chief hunter?” The sentry then lapsed into its clicking chirping language, and Kalina responded in the same.
After a few sharp exchanges, Kalina brandished her axe-like weapon, and for a moment Mirian feared the two would come to blows.
But the chief warrior pulled its spear to one side, and the blade snicked away so that the weapon seemed nothing more than a grayish quarterstaff ornamented with intricate markings and sigils.
“Wait,” Kalina said. She was still looking at the sentry as she spoke, but Mirian assumed the instructions were intended for her.
Kalina disappeared around a bend in the trail and was quickly lost behind intervening foliage.
Jekka stood statue-still. No, Mirian reflected, lizard-still, blinking seldom, turned sideways to her.
Mirian was left wondering how dangerous her situation was. She rested her hand on the hilt of her cutlass. Thinking about the speed she’d seen demonstrated by both lizardfolk, she flexed the hand that still held her machete. She wished that she’d undone the hook and eye clasp on the side holster where she kept her wand. She had one shot left.
“Planning tricks, human?” Jekka asked.
“I plan no tricks.”
Its tongue flicked out. “You lie.”
This one was certainly going out of its way to make things difficult. “What makes you think I lie?”
“And you waste air with stupid questions.”
Mirian took a slow breath. She had learned diplomacy and patience on her sojourns in the wilds. “Pretend that I’m stupid, and tell me why you think I’m lying.”
The dark green head turned to regard her directly. “My blade is sheathed. I do not offer battle posture. My frill is down. I do not signal danger.”
“I don’t know what your stance means, or when you might threaten me again. My people explain their actions so there will be no misunderstandings.”
Its tongue flicked out, and she saw it was forked. “That has not been my experience.”
“That’s fair enough,” she admitted. “The honorable among my people practice such methods. I want trust between us.”
“If you wish trust between the two of us,” the sentry said, “your wait will be long.”
“You tell me you don’t plan to attack, but say I cannot trust you.”
It growled deep in his throat. “You wish to pretend hatchling ignorance? I will give clarity. You are welcome upon our land. You will be offered no hostility unless you present it. My brother, records keeper of my people, will speak to you. And then you will leave. At no time before or after will I attack. Unless you give me a reason.”
She’d expected any number of challenges today, up to and including pursuit by Chelish spies, or the absence of the lizardfolk. She’d never thought she’d have to try to win over an antagonistic sentry.
“What is your name, warrior?”
“I am Jekka Eran Sulotai sar Karshnaar.”
“Your Taldane is excellent.”
It seemed uninterested in the compliment. “An elder nest mate taught us your speech. She thought it would aid our dealing with humans.”
“Has it?”
“It showed me your words were as untrustworthy as your actions.”
“Do not,” a new voice interjected from farther down the trail, “give heed to my brother Jekka.”
Another of the lizardfolk stepped out of the trees, one with a longer snout, though the creature was shorter in stature. It wore a beige robe with the hood thrown back. At its waist was a belt adorned with the same turquoise stones the others used to support their loincloths. It raised a long-fingered hand. “I welcome you to our lands, daughter of Leovan Raas. I am Heltan. Do you speak for your tribe?”
Mirian thought for a moment. Did “tribe” mean her family or her nation? “I speak for my family.”
Heltan’s head moved back and forth, rapidly. “Do you revive the agreement I made with your Leovan?”
“That is what I mean to do.”
Kalina came up behind Heltan and stood at its shoulder.
“That is fine!” The lizardfolk sounded truly pleased. “How soon do you wish to leave?”
After the difficulties with Jekka the sentry, Mirian hadn’t expected the rest of the negotiations to be so simple. “As soon as possible,” she said. “It may take a few days to ready the ship, however.”
“We may sleep in your courtyard, as before?” Mirian considered her answer for only a moment. “Yes.” Mother hadn’t mentioned that particular arrangement. Likely the lizardfolk wouldn’t have felt safe in the beds her father would have offered, and they wouldn’t have been welcome anywhere else inside the city. “Just so I’m clear on the agreement, we’re to help you find your city, and then you’re to give our family the jewels of your people?”
“We have little need of them,” Heltan replied.
“We value other things,” Jekka added.
All to the better. “Well then, when shall I expect you at my homestead?”
“We can leave as soon as Jekka gathers his gear,” Heltan said.
So the angry one was coming as well. Mirian looked over to him. “Did you come last time?”
“I was there. I am chief warrior,” he added, as though the matter were obvious.
How safe was her mother with Jekka around? She looked to the other lizardfolk for reassurance, found their expressions inscrutable, save that Heltan all but shook with excitement.
“I guess you’d best grab your gear,” she said to Jekka. As he wandered down the trail she asked Heltan, “Will he be a problem?”
“Jekka is brave,” Heltan said.
“He seems angry.”
“He is disappointed.” Heltan’s head tilted first left and then right. “I do not know the words to explain. But now it will be better.”
“Do not worry, daughter of the Leovan,” Kalina told her. “If he does not know your ways, you can teach him.”
Somehow Mirian doubted working with Jekka would be that simple.