​Lisle searched the trees from her seat astride Ell’s shoulders with frantic eyes, desperate to locate the rain-shrouded figure whose terrifying laughter echoed around her. She took a deep breath of waterlogged air, and reloaded her stone shot. Shaking, wet hands made the task difficult, as the small stones slipped about in her fingers. Rain dripped into her eyes, and she hastily wiped it away with her upper arm.

Lisle jumped nervously, as Terris popped his head up beside her, using Ell’s tail to lever himself up. Water ran over his scalp and down the sides of his face. She saw his dripping, clenched fist shaking at the trees in the direction Ell was staring, scattering droplets of wet about them both.

“Come out an’ fight us ya beast, and stop yer cursed cacklin’.”

She turned to see Gareth recover quickly from where Ell’s protective sweep had thrown him. He knelt, knocking arrow to bow once again, carefully out of range of Ell’s neck. Veiled in the downpour, he looked ghostly and insubstantial. Lisle shivered at the thought, and fearfully made the warding sign down at her side, thumb to forefinger.

She had no idea where Moss was.

Ell took in a deep breath and extended her neck, jaws wide. Lisle felt the vibration through Ell’s shoulders and chest beneath her as she roared again. It was deep and bellowing, resonant with challenge.

The laughter from the woods cut off.

Misty, white vapor rose from Ell’s neck, even as the rain poured down. Lisle held her stone shot in one hand, and placed the other on Ell’s neck which was blushing a reddish hue. She felt the hard scales beneath her fingers radiating heat, then became aware of a burning sensation, rising through her thighs and backside from where she sat on Ell’s shoulders.

Her seat was growing rapidly hotter now, so much so that she could barely tolerate it. She had to keep lifting one leg and then the other, holding onto Ell’s spinal ridges and shifting her weight. This is no good, she thought as she fidgeted, I need to be able to shoot.

The spines on Ell’s head, stood erect and bright red, a flush of crimson color extending down her neck and onto her shoulders. She opened her jaws and let out another deep roar, which ended suddenly with a huge gout of flame spurting out. It seared the air, a brief, golden light reflecting off the trees before them.

Ell’s head reared backward, almost knocking Lisle off, as she clamped her jaws shut on the flame, cutting it off with a gulping sound.

Lisle could only stare at Ell in amazement. She watched smoke drifting up from between Ell’s clenched teeth.

“Did ya’ see that? She’s a flamin’! Ya’ best get down from there, younger.”

Terris reached up to pull Lisle backwards, sliding her off behind the protection of Ell’s extended wing and jumping down beside her. Lisle landed on her feet, grateful to be off Ell’s burning shoulders.

An arrow pounded through the branches well above them, thudding through the leaves. The tattered remains chasing the rain down and scattering over Gareth.

“You’ll have to do better than that! One curse you!” Voice rough with anger, Gareth knelt with one-knee on the ground. Rain streamed over his hood and down his back as he drew his bow and aimed in the same direction that Ell had flamed.

A rumbling belch bubbled up through Ell’s throat and out her jaws. She shook her head, long neck waggling back and forth as if uncomfortable. The scent of Ell’s fiery breath drifted back to Lisle, smelling almost like that of the eggs from their layers back home.

Lisle pushed past Terris and out to the edge of Ell’s wing, aiming her stoneshot at the trees once again. She searched for shadowy movement. This time, she would make her shot count.

*****
The Hunter’s laughter ended as abruptly as it had begun. He moved closer, the pounding rain covering his approach. He stood behind a tree, rain pouring down around him, a grey shadow in a  grey wood. He watched the Guardian, an arrow knocked in the deadly, long bow that was his hunting weapon of choice. Drawing the bow, sinewy, powerful arms straining, he took aim for the delicate patch under its forearm with practiced skill.

It roared yet again, loud and challenging, and he felt a startling kinship with this supreme hunter. He marveled at the blade-like teeth bared in defiance; the claws ripping at the earth beneath it; the sheer massive power of it. He stood in awe before this marvelous beast. He could feel its rage with every bellow, and that intense anger moved something deep within him.

It unexpectedly let loose with a gout of flame, burning white-hot through the watery, grey air right at him, and he took a startled step backward. His nostrils filled with a warm, moist scent like that of the bubbling pits he’d encountered in the far North. Then his foot slipped in the mud beneath him and his arrow shot high and wide.

Steadying himself, he again took aim, even as his mind questioned. What is this creature of fire and air? He had never seen it’s like.

It fascinated him, and, it confused him. He tried to sort it out.  Arms trembling with the strain of holding the draw on his hunting bow, he carefully released the pull on the arrow and dropped the bow down to his side.  Emotions roiled inside him. Strange, new feelings of admiration and longing raged in his chest. The cursed beast inspired something in him. Something even more than kinship; it was like a soul-deep recognition.

He shook his head, snarling, disgusted with such flights of fancy.

Then, an unobtrusive voice in the back of his mind, so small as to easily go unnoticed, it asked, do I really want to kill this amazing creature? 
​
This strange inner conflict was suddenly too much. Even as the kneeling man beside the Guardian taunted him, the Hunter melted back into the trees. 

The rain lightened momentarily. Lisle lifted her head and pushed back a thoroughly soaked hood to rest dripping about her neck.  I don’t know why I even bother to wear it, it’s so wet. She looked to see misty, open air on the other side of the trees to her left. Moving ever North, the companions slogged along, traversing the side of a steep incline, as they pushed closer to Guardian Mountain.

The storm raged on. The group were pummeled with an almost constant downpour. Water streamed away down the incline to their right, rivulets of runoff crossing in front and behind them, rushing to merge into the river far below. The ground was soggy underfoot, mud sucking at their boots. Occasional slides of stones and pebbles made the footing treacherous.

Lisle breathed deeply of the wet air filling the woods. The clean, damp scent would have been pleasant if she had not had so much of it recently. What’s more she was feeling increasingly agitated. She was sure they were being watched, and kept looking around, checking their backtrail every few minutes. Her hand, damp and white-knuckled, gripped the handle of the stoneshot at her belt.

The constant beat of rain pouring down around her was split by a tremendous roar from above that vibrated through Lisle's body. Jumping, she looked up with startled eyes to see Ell arrowing down between the trees. She was terrified that Ell was injured, as Ell landed almost on top of the companions, wings outstretched.

Roaring still, Ell backed into the four of them, herding them behind her, up against the huge trunk of an ancient tree, as she released another stentorian scream of rage at the mist-veiled tree trunks surrounding them.

Frightened still, but relieved, Lisle could feel that Ell was not injured. Ell was terrified and very, very angry.

“Let me see, Ell!”

Yanking her slingshot from her belt, and clamping it between her teeth, Lisle pushed her way free of the green, scaled haunch that held her against the rough, dripping bark of the huge tree. She leapt, grabbing onto a spinal ridge on Ell’s back, and scrambled up to her shoulders, like climbing a ladder.

The sky opened up, rain driving down. Lisle wiped the rain from her eyes and looked to see a dark, man-shaped shadow scuttling from tree to tree, moving ever closer.  

Moss, chattering angrily from inside Lisle’s overtunic, pushed her way out and took to the air, only to be grounded immediately by the driving force of the rain.  She landed at the base of the great tree and pulled herself up the trunk, climbing the shaggy, wet bark upward. Her hair was immediately slicked against her head by the rain in long, green waves streaming down over her shoulders.

“One curse it, Ell! Let me by!” Gareth struggled his way past the wing that pinned him against the tree trunk.

Another scream of defiance from Ell momentarily deafened Lisle as she stared out frantically from under eyelashes dripping with rain, looking for anything that presented a target for her stoneshot.

“Keep yur cussed head down younger!” Terris yelled up at her, wrestling with the enormous tail that held him. “Let go a me ya’ great lizard!”

Gareth pushed by Ell’s wing, knocking an arrow in his bow as he did so. He moved to stand in front of the raging Guardian. Ell roared deafeningly and knocked him aside and behind her with a sweep of her long neck.

Lisle felt rage, frustration and terror filling her up like an overfull water bladder. She had to let it out before it consumed her and opened her mouth to loose her own high, scream of defiance as she flung a stone uselessly into the trees.

From the woods before them, amidst the clattering of rain on the water-soaked ground, a howl of laughter echoed.

*****

Behind a tree, the Hunter bent over, hands on his knees, choking with laughter. Rain poured down around him, drenching his already soaked overcoat and splattering another layer of mud over his hide boots.  It didn’t matter if they heard him. They already knew he was there, and he was delighted by the inept tableau in front of him.

He guffawed as he thought of the Guardian herding and pinning its humans behind it, and those incompetent men fighting against the Guardian, uselessly trying to defend it.

 He laughed so hard he could barely catch his breath.

Then he thought of that younger, sounding like some crazed night singer, wildly flinging a stone at him. It was all just too much, and he howled with laughter again, hardly able to stand up.

That Guardian though, it gave him pause. He sobered and stood up straight, tilting his head and looking out from behind the tree trunk which hid him. Rain dripped from the brim of the hat which protected his eyes as he watched the roaring beast before him. He felt an emotion so foreign to him it was almost frightening. He couldn’t put a name to it.

The huge green-scaled creature was rippling with muscle. It stood upright on powerful hindquarters, long, curved claws gouging huge tracts in the muddy earth. With its wings spread wide, and open, sharp-toothed jaws it looked like some enormous avenging demon.

It seemed a creature not of this world, the likes of which he had never come across before. It was all that he had hoped, and so much more. The beast inspired him, a totally new and unfamiliar sensation.

Suddenly he wanted it, more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.  That Guardian is mine!

He studied the beast. It was covered all over with scales. Even the belly was lined with yellow protective plating.  The Guardian roared again and flapped its wings, its forearms flailing. His attention was drawn to the area just under its forearms. He wiped away the rain which had blown into his eyes and looked to see that under the forearms was covered with small, delicate looking scales. A well-placed arrow there will bring it down, he thought. Then I can deal with the humans.

The Hunter searched the area about him, and pin-pointed a tree which would give him a better vantage point for his shot. Staying low, mist shrouding his movements, he crept into place.

Gareth, brows knitting, looked at the sky with concern etched into his features. The dawn that morning was bright with red streaks, and a solid bank of slate-grey clouds built to the Northeast, stretching from one side of the horizon to the other.

​“That’ll be full on us soon. We’ll need to find good shelter,” said Gareth. Lisle nodded. Gareth knew about such things.

Ell waddled into a running leap, wings outstretched, then shot up between the trees and out of sight. Moss followed her upward for a short distance, wings a green blur. She hovered and turned in a full circle, peering all around them. Seeming satisfied, she fluttered down to land delicately on Lisle’s shoulder. Lisle hitched up her pack, careful not to dislodge Moss, and fell in behind Gareth, who had already started out. Terris followed closely behind them all, as Gareth rapidly outpaced his companions. 

They pushed hard, traveling all morning without a break. Lisle and Terris collected what firewood they could carry along the way.

The terrain grew rockier and they traversed an increasing incline as they moved North. Their feet swished through thick patches of lacey, green ferns growing at the foot of the great trees, and peeking up between large outcroppings of grey-stone.

Gareth scouted back and forth, walking sometimes with them, sometimes ahead or behind. By midday he returned to them, having found shelter.

He led them to a cave almost hidden in an embankment clustered about with tall evergreens. Its entrance was covered over with ferns hanging down from a mass of spongey moss clinging to the rocks surrounding it. Inside was evidence of past habitation by the small, winged darklings for which the forest was named, but the entrance of the cave was relatively clear and unsullied.  Here, there was enough room for their small encampment.

Not long after their arrival, with barely time to get themselves settled, the wind blasted bringing the storm full upon them. Their camp was protected by the grey-rock overhang and remained relatively dry, despite the constant drip of rainwater from the ferns hanging down.

Lisle settled herself on her bedroll. It was pleasant to rest there as the storm raged outside the cave. Very pleasant, she thought, with images of sleeping the day away by a warm fire in her mind. Moss snuggled into Lisle’s pack, wrapped in her small section of fur. Terris stretched out on his bed, hands clasped under his head, legs crossed, the picture of relaxation. Ell sat upright, toward the back of the cave, eyes closed. Gareth crouched close to the entrance, wrapped around with his bedroll, and prodded at their struggling fire with a small faggot. Every few minutes he scanned the storm lashed wood in front of them. Soon the fire was warm and crackling at the cave mouth. The welcome scent of woodsmoke curled around them even as wind and rain howled on the other side of the rocks. Lisle laid her head back. It feels so good to rest, she thought, as she drifted off.

Ell lurched to her feet and moved out from the back of the cave, into the rain, crimson ridged tail thrashing. Lisle's eyes popped open as Ell passed by her, and she  groaned. Time to go, and she nudged Terris with her foot and then Gareth. “P..pack up.”

The companions reluctantly left their shelter. The forest, so quiet the day before, now howled and grabbed at them. Wind-blown rain assaulted them, tearing at their clothes and packs, drizzling cold wet down their necks. Within minutes they were soaked through. Movement kept them warm enough, and travel hardened muscles kept them going.

Ell, grounded by the storm, walked beside Lisle. Lisle was grateful for Ell’s comforting, bulky presence next to her, even as she could feel Ell’s need to hurry. Gareth too, stuck close.

End-day was a miserable affair, hunched against a tree trunk to get out of the worst of the wind and rain. The sky, when they could see it through the driving rain, ranged in color from stone to deepest slate. The dark clouds formed curious, almost black, bulbous patterns such as Lisle had never seen before. Thunder growled and roared almost continuously. The rain, lit by lightening, seemed with each flash, to be caught at a standstill on its way to the ground. Wind thrashed at the tree branches above them which threatened to tear lose and cascade down upon their heads. They rested only long enough to choke down a cold end-day meal, then got up and slogged on, hoping to find shelter for the night.

*****

Rain and wind slashed downward, making tracking, even for the Hunter, near impossible. All traces of the trail he had followed so easily washed away with the storm. Lightning stabbed downward, flashing off dark, wet tree trunks and illuminating the forest about him in skeletal white on black. Thunder roared. The scent of ozone and soaked earth permeated the air.

Resigned, he squatted beneath the low, hanging branches of a densely needled evergreen, as he considered his options.

A short while later, having consumed a portion of dried rooter from his pack, the Hunter stood up, pushing his way free of the sheltering boughs. He stared up into a dark and glowering sky that seemed determined to continue on with its temper tantrum, as rain dripped from the brim of his hat, running in rivulets down over shoulders already soaked.

He picked up a hefty, arm-length branch from the ground in front of him, where it had been knocked down by the heavy winds. Its rain-softened bark felt crumbly and rough in his hands, as he looked about at the changes wrought by the storm. Driving rain wiped clean all trace of his quarry’s passing. The ground was now covered with leaves and debris blown about by the violent weather.

Tracking the humans was no longer possible, but he knew the companions traveled North, running for the safety of Guardian Mountain. He would travel due North and travel fast. With luck he would come across their trail on the way. If not, he would take them at the mountain. I will have that Guardian, he thought, and viciously stabbed the end of the branch he held, deep into the wet earth at his feet.

The day dawned with gentle coral and purple hues peeking through the tree trunks. the effect was lovely and entirely lost on Lisle.  It felt much too early, as she dragged herself from her bedroll. She straightened her travel-soiled tunic, and considered changing into the spare in her pack. Remembering that it was just as abused as the one she wore, she shrugged her shoulders and didn’t bother. Pulling on knit and much mended leggings, she bent to roll her blankets up and felt unaccustomed aches and twinges in her young back. Weeks of travel, fear spurred by the attack, nearly losing Gareth, broken sleep from taking her turn on watch at night, all these had taken a toll on Lisle. Though she would never admit this to the others.

Ell was increasingly agitated, pacing back and forth about their small campsite. Her claws digging in and long tail swishing along the ground. She left an odd, double track through the dirt and fallen leaves and her agitation frightened Lisle. Not because she was afraid of Ell, never that, but because Ell was afraid. Lisle could feel it.

The night before, when Ell finally settled down, Lisle sat with her, arm thrown over Ell’s shoulder, and tried to sense what Ell was feeling. She was unable to perceive any clear images from Ell. Ell’s communications swam with something dark, threatening and very dangerous. Lisle shared this with Gareth, Moss and Terris, but it was difficult to share the dread she felt from Ell.

Pale sunlight drifted through the trees that dawning. It lit a well-practiced traveling routine as they packed up quickly and started on their way. They didn’t take time to eat. Ell would no longer permit it. The companions would munch on leftovers as they walked, just as they had done for several days now. Ell took to the sky immediately and they hustled to keep up with her.

Ell’s wingspan made it difficult for her to fly in the dense trees of the forest so she flew above the tree canopy. This made following her difficult, as her companions could not see her leading the way above the tree tops.  Fortunately, in the first days of their journey, Lisle discovered a trick. She found that if she closed her eyes and turned slowly in a circle, when she faced the direction in which Ell had flown, she would feel her chest suddenly expand with breath, and a tingling sensation of happiness fill her. From this, Lisle was able to point the way, and the companions could follow in Ell’s wake.

For several hours they traveled that morning, their footsteps muffled against the evergreen needles covering the ground. The great forest was quiet and sweet-scented around them. Only an occasional melodic flier call broke the stillness.

Lisle was able to keep her fears at bay. Terris walked at the back of the group, occasionally hitching up drooping trousers grown too big for him, and pulling tight the belt attempting to hold them up. He frequently scanned the wood behind them, keeping watch. Moss flitted about, alert. Gareth ranged ahead, always moving North.

They stopped for midday and ate a cold meal of hopper and meal cakes from the night before. It had been their pattern to rest a bit at midday, readying for more travel later. Today however, Ell stood right after the meal, indicating it was time to move on.

Now Lisle felt the sense of dread returning with each step she took. As aftermidday wore on, increasingly long shadows of branches and tree trunks crisscrossed, menacing the path before them. Lisle’s fearful eyes swept back and forth keeping watch as the sun hid below the horizon with only a cursory attempt at color. A murky darkness filled the forest. When a branch snapped suddenly underfoot, Lisle leapt into the air, startled.

“Easy there. We’ll camp soon enuff.’ You’ll feel better with a nice fire goin’ and some supper in yer belly,” said Terris, though he moved his hand to rest on the knife tucked into his belt and scanned one again behind them as he walked.

They caught up to Gareth where he had stopped by a narrow, trickling brook.  They would make camp next to its soothing song. Gareth had caught several ground fliers during the day, and Terris set to preparing the meal. Lisle, with a watchful Moss on her shoulder, ranged close by, collecting for their cookfire. When the food was ready, Terris handed portions around, and Lisle looked up at him, smiling tiredly and reached out for the food. “Ta, m…m…my f…friend.” 

That night, Ell made them all nervous, pacing about at the edge of camp, tail lashing, her eyes fixed on the looming darkness surrounding them. Finally, she sat down, wrapped her tail about her foreclaws and closed her eyes. She remained sitting upright, motionless, even past the time when the others lay down to sleep.

Lisle woke during the night when a sleepy Moss tapped her on the cheek. She looked over to see that Ell had finally lain down to sleep. Reassured, she sent Moss to her bed of fur in the pack, and got up to watch.

*****
The Hunter squatted easily and studied the ground in front of him. Hard, grey eyes took in any signs of track or disturbance.

The Guardian traveled more and more on the wing where he was unable to see her from beneath the dense green overhead. This was not a problem; he tracked her human companions easily, the play of a younger for his hunter skills. What’s more, they travelled due North, their objective Guardian Mountain. He knew this from the information the boy-man, the one who’d hired him, had imparted.

His quarry was the Guardian of course, not the humans. Though he would deal with them when the time came.
A Guardian! The thought brought a frisson of excitement coursing through his body, the likes of which he had not felt since his first hunt as a boy. Now older, skillful and experienced, he found that hunting, even humans, was getting to be just more of the same. Where was the anticipation? The thrill? He thought. A Guardian now, that was quarry worthy of him.

The Hunter traveled fast for several days and was gaining on them rapidly.  Soon, he thought, his lips a grim, satisfied slash across his face.

So intent was he upon the enticing hunt for the Guardian this day, that he did not at first notice the ominous, blackening storm clouds at the horizon. It was most unusual for him to be unaware of his surroundings in that way, and he spared a moment for thoughts of chastisement. Such self-recrimination was short-lived however, almost as unusual as his initial inattentiveness. He noted the changing weather, taking it into his calculations, and refocused on tracking.

Several days passed and Gareth’s condition improved rapidly. Soon, he was sitting up, and able to lean carefully against the grayed trunk of a tree whose branches provided a canopy for their campsite hidden within Darkling Forest.  A few more days saw him standing and moving about tentatively.

Finally, he was well enough to travel.
​
The night before they were to leave, Gareth lay,  his head resting on a bedroll and hands clasped over his stomach. Lisle watched Gareth as he scanned the woods with haunted eyes. She sat with him beside their neat fire, holding slender hands over the coals. Despite it being full summer, the evening air was damp and chilly. Moss sat, watchful, upon Lisle’s shoulder, running tiny fingers through the verdant tangles of hair haloing her small head.

Ell lay curled, tail tip over muzzle, eyes open, reflecting the small flames of the campfire. Only Terris seemed relaxed,  fiddling about in his pack, pulling out various small bags of herbs and considering each one. Wagging his head in the negative, he’d stuff the small bag back into his pack and reach in for another one.

Haltingly, Lisle told Gareth of all that had happened after he was shot. She told him how Terris had saved the Guardian.

Terris looked up at them. He squared his shoulders. “I didn’t do nothin’ you wouldna’ done if you coulda’ Gareth.” Then he looked down quickly and fumbled with the bag he was holding.

Gareth carefully pushed himself to a sitting position. His lips twitched but he nodded solemnly to Terris.

Lisle continued on, telling Gareth how Moss had chased away Gareth’s startled assailant, quite possibly saving Gareth’s life. At this, Moss stood up on Lisle’s shoulder and puffed up her chest, wings lifting. She shook her fist at their remembered foe and loosed a string of staccato, clattering syllables.

Finally, Lisle told him how the Guardian sat with him, not eating, not moving for days, as Lisle cared for him the best she knew how. “W…which was n…not v…very g..good,” she said, looking down at hands now twisting in her lap.

“It was good enough. My gratitude to all of you,” Gareth looked at each one in turn as he said this. Then, eyes and head tilting up and to the side, he remembered, “I heard singing off and on, thought it was my Marn.” He turned to look at Lisle. “Was it you?”

“It e…eased y…you. I…I sang e…even when you w…went into th…that s…sleep. I d..didn’t k…know what else to…to d…do.”

Gareth shifted to look at her directly, grimacing slightly as his newly healed wound pulled. His eyes lighted,  “I had a dream.”

Gareth told Lisle of the lake and meeting Ell and the choice she had given him.

A pot crashed, jolting Gareth and causing Lisle to start. Together, they looked over to see Terris trying to regain his balance as he leapt over the offending pot now lying on its side on the hard-packed earth and stumbled to his knees. He looked up at them with an embarrassed grin.

Gareth pushed himself to his feet. Looking down at Terris he stepped over and offered him a hand up. Terris looked at the proffered hand with eyes wide, but accepted it and got to his feet. “Ta,” said Terris as he brushed off the legs of his trews, and set about righting the pot to make breakfast.

The next morning, they packed up and set off. Gareth walked up front, occasionally moving off into the woods, then returning to say all was clear. They didn’t travel far that day. Nor could they travel far for many days as Gareth gradually gained his strength back. Lisle took to feigning exhaustion at times to get Gareth to rest, and Terris soon caught on and contributed his own weary complaints. Gareth lost patience with them a few times, refusing to stop.

Unusually, several times each day Ell dropped down from where she flew above the sheltering canopy of the forest, back winging to come to land before them, dried leaves and dust flying up into the air about her. She would settle herself for a rest and look over at them calmly as if this was their usual routine. Always, this was just as Gareth felt exhaustion setting in, despite the desire to push himself. The companions soon learned that she would travel no further until they had all rested. 

That afternoon they settled by a brook. It was a comfortable place with the sound of the running water nearby. It was an hour or two before dark and they sat around a crackling fire, replete from a supper of ground flier, which Ell had provided, and Terris had seasoned with just the right herbs and a touch of salt.

Terris fiddled with the handle of a pot that needed mending. Then he looked up at Gareth. “It’s a strange thing I’ve jus’ remembered. That man what attacked the Guardian, he yelled, ‘For the Fallen!’ Jus’ like that. That man was terrifyin’, he was. He wanted to die.”

Gareth looked up sharply, “The Fallen? I remember something of that.” Gareth searched his memory for stories he had heard back when he was traveling with Lur. “There was a group who worshipped one called The Fallen. Anyone who serves the One is their enemy. Those that attacked us, they were after Ell. Makes sense her being a Guardian and of the One.”

Terris groaned. “Rend and tear it,” he said, shaking his head. He put the pot down and took out his knife and whetting stone, and began scraping the blade carefully against the stone. ”We’ll be ready for ‘em if they comes back.”

Gareth looked at him, eyebrows raised, his lips tiling upward. He recognized his own cuss words coming from Terris’s mouth, but said nothing. He was feeling a growing respect for the small man before him; glad now that Terris was with them.

“Yes,” said Gareth, “we will.”