Sweat pouring into his eyes, Terris heaved himself up over the rock ledge, jagged edges biting into his fingers. His palms stung, reddened with scrapes from the climb. Moss waited there at the top for him, wings whirring, her hands signaling frantically. He couldn’t figure out what she was trying to telling him. Then, she turned and pointed out toward the other end of the ledge. There he saw the man who had been hunting them, lying down, his back to them, staring intently over the edge.

Crouching, Terris gathered himself together, his terror of what he was about to do keeping his movements absolutely silent. Looking down, he carefully pulled his knife from his belt, and tested the edge against a dirty fingertip. Taking a deep breath to fortify himself, he looked up at Moss and signaled her to wait.

Jiggling up and down, eyes gleaming and teeth bared, Moss was unable to contain herself. A ferocious, miniature scream ripped from her throat and she arrowed straight for their adversary.

Terris stood up, horrified, then charged forward with his own scream of defiance. The man rose with agile grace, and turned to face them in fighting stance, knife drawn.

Terris skidded to a stop, his battle cry tapering off into something more like a whine. What am I doing? Thoughts clattered about in his head. This man has twice my reach and look at those eyes. A shiver ran up Terris’s spine. What am I going to do?

Moss leapt at the man’s face and landed to do battle with his nose, grabbing and leaning in to bite.

The man, looked cross-eyed for a moment as he focused upon his tiny adversary. He took a step backward and slapped her to the ground. With a squeak of pain, she landed hard, one wing bent at an impossible angle.

Terris looked at Moss’s unmoving figure and gave up questioning himself. Angry and dripping sweat, he circled, looking for a way to come at the man. His adversary stood motionless, eyebrows arched, a look of invitation in his eyes.

It was then that Terris knew what he had to do. A calm resolve filled him. He would do this to save his friends. He dropped his knife and stood up, hands out.

Why the little creeper. He’s giving up without even a fight. The Hunter stepped forward to grab the small man just as he lunged into him. Powerful shoulders hit the Hunter in his midsection and knocked him backward. Muscular arms locked around him, travel-strengthened legs thrust the Hunter back, back, and further back into… nothing.

The Hunter’s thoughts were calm, precise. This creeper has teeth. His body flailed for survival, arms pinwheeling through the air, then grabbing onto this small man he’d thought no match for him. As both men went over the edge, the Hunter thought with an odd sort of relief, finished, the hunt is over. His lips curved upward into a smile.
*****

​Tim ran, strong, young legs pumping hard. He had to get to the Hunter and stop him. Surely, because he had been the one to hire him, he could stop him.

He didn’t understand how Fal could want to harm this beautiful creature of the One. It was so wrong. His legs moved faster still as his heart filled with fear for the small Guardian. She loved him. He had seen it in her eyes in that one glance. She knew him. He was certain. He had to save her!

With the agility of youth, he leapt over a fallen log and kept running, his thoughts racing alongside him. In all those towns he traveled through on his search for the Hunter, it had felt so good to see the respect in men’s eyes as soon as he said he spoke for the Fallen. He had come to look for it, even crave it. It was a feeling like none other in his young life. He was even able to ignore the small voice in his mind that told him what he did was very wrong.

Now that small voice was screaming at him, and he understood that what he thought was respect was only fear. I never wanted that. Now he knew that nothing was more important than saving the small, loving Guardian.

Running hard, Tim heard a faint roaring coming from the direction of Fal’s cave. He slowed. Fal is so angry. He could feel it clawing at his stomach. His breath came in great gulps as his feet found roots sticking up from the ground and he stumbled to his knees. The roaring grew louder and then louder still, as a great shadow passed overhead, tracing along the brown earth before his stunned eyes. One forbid! He thought. Feeling Fal's rage flood through his gut and send jolting currents down his arms and legs, he pushed himself up with his hands, leaping to his feet. Desperately he ran, moving ever faster. He had to get there in time.

Tim sat in his favorite, sunny spot on the moss-covered ledge of grey rock which overhung Fal’s cave. For a time, he was mesmerized by the tiny flashes of crystalline white which sparkled in the rock beside him. Then, he leaned back into the spongey mat and rested on his elbows, lean, brown legs crossed at the ankles in front of him. The sun trickled down through the leaves of the scrubby trees surrounding the cave, a warm blanket of light flowing over the front of his body.
​
It felt so good to relax, at least for this moment. Fal had been increasingly edgy and irritable, pacing about the cave, whip-like tail lashing back and forth. When he got like that Tim had to watch out for himself. Fal was not careful about where his tail connected, and Tim had more than once been thrown against the wall. Better to sit out here in the sun and allow the Fallen to work through his temper.

Tim tilted his head back, breathing deeply of the sun-warmed air. He brushed a black curl out of his eyes and gazed idly at the wispy clouds drifting in the sky over the mountainside. Then his attention was caught by movement. He picked out a dark flier against the cloud’s fluffy white. Another Guardian! It had to be. No other flier would be so large at this distance.

It was only the second Guardian Tim had ever seen. Even though he now lived here in the base of Guardian Mountain, the only Guardian he ever saw was Fal. Beautiful as his Guardian was, Tim was thrilled to see another.

Over the past weeks he had seen Fal flying in the air, though it was an unusual occurrence. This one looked smaller than his Guardian. He strained his eyes to see it as it drifted closer, riding the wind with motionless wings extended. Now he could see that it was a rusty green, lighter than Fal’s deep emerald. As he stared, he saw flashes of ruby red along the ridges of a long, graceful neck and tail. This one was as stunningly beautiful as the Fallen, though lighter in color. Just then, it turned its head and looked right at him. He felt that glance move like a shock through his body and burst into his heart. Tim was astonished to feel tears trickling down his cheeks. Then the Guardian dipped down and disappeared behind the trees.

He was stricken at losing sight of it. So, he watched, his heart pounding, feeling desperate to see it again. He searched the mountainside above Fal’s cave, hungry green eyes traveling up to the summit and back, looking for any sign of movement.

One corner of his mind noted that all was still from inside the cave. Perhaps his Guardian was sitting now, lost in his inner world. Thank the One, thought Tim.

He continued to scan the mountainside and the sky above. Finally, he caught sight of a large figure which he knew must be the other Guardian. It was at the head of a line of smaller, human-shaped figures, moving up the side of the mountain. He stared avidly, drinking in the sight of the small Guardian.

A short time later he saw a fourth figure moving fast at an angle behind the three, and climbing up above them. The others didn’t seem to be aware of their pursuer, but it looked as though he was getting into position to attack them.
The Hunter, realized Tim, horrified.

Without conscious thought, Tim was off the ledge and racing up the side of the mountain. He had to stop him.
*****

“Gareth is hit!” Yelled Terris, turning to aid his friend. The path was narrow. On one side was a sheer drop off. On the other a rock wall and an overhang. Gareth lay under the overhang, an arrow imbedded in his thigh.

Moss, wings clattering with anxiety, landed beside Gareth, and watched as he held his leg, eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted against the pain.

“Bloody claws,” said Gareth, “not again.” He looked up at Terris, face pale, “You’ve gotta keep going, Terris.” He moved his leg experimentally and grimaced. “I’ll catch you up. Guard them Terris! You too, Moss. Go!”

Agonized, Terris looked at his friend and clenched his jaw against whatever he might have said, knowing Gareth was right. Then he extended his hand to Moss and turned to catch Lisle as she charged back down the rock-strewn path toward them. Ell, golden eyes focused upon Gareth, trotted close behind, sending pebbles rattling down the hillside in her wake.

“We gotta get you n’ Ell up there. Gareth’ll be along. Move now," said Terris, holding Lisle's arm with one hand, as she strained toward Gareth.

Terris reached his other hand up to offer Moss his shoulder, but she took to the air, hovering above them. He then turned Lisle around by her shoulders and made a waving motion for Ell to turn as well. He gently and firmly pushed Lisle ahead of him up the path, as Ell ponderously negotiated the tight turn and moved into place to lead the way once again.

Terris scanned the rocks above them for the shooter, even as Lisle stumbled on the path, her head turned, looking back over her shoulder toward the overhang. He caught her and they climbed steadily. There was no sign of their assailant. The sun beating down was hot, the unmoving air getting thin and hard to breathe. They didn't dare stop to rest.

The path continued, narrow and treacherous with a sheer drop off down the side to their right. Terris’s eyes blurred with strain as he scanned the rocks ahead of them. Perspiration dripped down his face and into his panting mouth, tasting salty and rank.

A slight movement above and in front of them caught his attention. He saw a stealthy figure duck down behind a boulder just behind another overhang of rock. They would never be able to pass that overhang safely. Terris had to do something, but what? I’m no bowman, no fighter. All I got's a cooking knife.  

Slowing his pace, Terris called to mind the only fighting he had ever done, wrestling matches with his brothers when he was a younger. He had spent many of his early days pinned to the ground by one enormous brother or another. The only way he ever had a chance was to take one by surprise. 

Suddenly, he knew what he had to do.

Terris tapped Lisle’s shoulder. Moss whirred down to hover beside him. As Lisle turned to him, he said softly, “You keep comin’ along slow with Ell.” He slipped his pack off and handed it to Lisle.  “I’m gonna climb up and git behind that bowman, and fer One’s sake, stay behind Ell and keep yer head down.”

Lisle nodded assent with a forehead wrinkled with anxiety.  Taking the pack, she hurried up beside Ell, and pulled back on her wing. Ell slowed her pace, as Terris began to scale the wall of rock bordering the narrow path they trod, his lean muscles straining with effort. Moss zipped up beside him, shining wings a blur, landing on the rocks above, alert and watchful.

Climbing steadily upward, Terris stopped to catch his breath, scraggly beard and spiky hair outlining his head against the blue sky behind him. The creases around his mouth and across his forehead dug deeper now, his cheek bones standing out clearly. Weeks of travel had left their mark. He stood bent over, hands on his knees, chest heaving and chanced a look over the edge of the trail. His eyes traveled down, down the rock stubbled slope, down through the trees to where they had first started their climb at the base of Guardian Mountain. By his reckoning they were almost half-way up to where he could see the yawning, dark opening in the mountainside, signaling the tunnel entrance to Guardian Cavern. He remembered Lisle telling him in her halting way, how the mountain itself had created that tunnel with its own fire. She said the Guardian had shown it to her. Still, he wondered how much of it was a younger’s fancy. Don’t matter none if it is or 'taint. We’re goin’ there.

They were at the edge of the tree line now and he was glad to note that his legs felt strong, even if his breath puffed a bit. This journeyin’s been the strengthen’ of me. His mind drifted back. I’m some different now than I was, fer sure. Back then I alus hungered for coin. That don’t seem real important now.

Looking up he saw Ell venture out from between the trees in front of him. Her graceful neck turning, golden eyes searching this way and that.  Then she took a running leap into the air, wings outstretched. She soared up, stroking hard to gain altitude. Transparent streaks of clouds filled the sky behind her as she took a swooping pass over the whole side of the mountain.

The air was still, as if holding its breath, waiting.

Lisle was next to leave the cover of the trees, Moss hovering at her shoulder. Terris followed. He was glad to feel Gareth’s solid presence right behind him and thought with pleasure how the big man treated him now. Terris’s chest filled with a sudden intake of breath as he realized, he respects me. He looked ahead at Lisle moving purposely forward. She calls me her friend. His lips curved upward.

Moss suddenly appeared beside him, buzzing to land lightly on his shoulder.

“How’s it lookin’ there Moss?”

She patted his cheek and chittered softly.

“Well and good then,” he said.

Ell back winged in to land hard, a little way up the mountain in front of Lisle. He saw her sides bellowing in and out, reminding him of his blacksmith shop at home, such as it was. He didn’t miss that shop one bit. He watched the Guardian, still breathing hard, as she waited for them.

She’s lookin’ some worn out by all this.

Lisle reached the Guardian and moved up next to her, laying her hand upon the Guardian’s shoulder. Then they turned together to resume the climb, the Guardian staying with the group, shuffling ahead to lead the way, claws scraping on rocky earth.

As he watched, he felt that deep sense of awe that he always felt when he looked at the Guardian. Her scaled and muscled hindquarters moved powerfully up the incline ahead of him. Long, ridged tail lifted in a slight curve, wings tucked neatly to her back, her long claws dug in front and back, pulling her up the slope.

He felt proud, that he, Terris, a not very good black smith from a no-name village, had helped protect and companion this servant of the One, all this way to Guardian Mountain.

He no longer worried about filling his belly. He worried about the safety of these, his first friends. I’m a differnt man, an’ a good thing it is. Terris hoisted his pack higher on his shoulders and bent forward, strong legs pumping up the side of the mountain.

*****

The Hunter arrived at the base of Guardian Mountain, staying well-hidden within the cover of the trees. He felt the strain of the journey as strange thoughts pulled at him, urging him to give up and go home.

Home, he thought with sudden longing, a place he hadn’t seen in a very long time. Stopping, his hand unconsciously felt for the little cloth bag tied on a leather thong about his neck and tucked beneath his wrinkled and greying shirt.  He pulled it out between travel-grimed fingers and felt of its lumpy contents through the rough fabric.  

He knew his fa would have passed by now, his ma gone long ago. The village where he grew up would be different. But his sister might still be there, married to that fellow. What was his name? She might even have young ones, a family. She’d welcome him, he knew. She was just that kind. She’d given him this bag, filled with the tiny treasures of their shared childhood. She didn’t need to know what he’d become - a hunter of men, and worse still, a hunter of sacred creatures of the One. He shook his head as if to shake the thoughts loose, and let go of the bag.

I’m proud of the name I've made. 

The conflicting thoughts raged about in his head with questions that had followed him all the way from where he picked up the companion’s trail back in the forest. He felt unbalanced and angry. 

Seeking escape, he gazed up the side of the mountain, his hunter-trained instincts judging the best path to take through the trees. As he watched, he saw movement on the mountain high above him. He stared intently and made out three, small figures emerging from the edge of the tree line. He figured the Guardian would be in the air somewhere, but didn’t see it. Looking further up the mountainside he noted several places in the rocks where he might take them one at a time as they passed through.

That’s it then, he thought. I am the Hunter or I am no one.

He began to trot upward, tracing a path that would wind up and around, well above where the companions must pass. He had found the perfect place for an ambush.
 

He sat, alone as always, on a flat rock.  The normally placid river before him now raged in its banks that wound about the base of the incline leading to Guardian Mountain. Rock, earth, trees and man were soaking from the torrential rain pouring down. His hat was pulled low, shielding his face from the unremitting downpour. He hunched his shoulders and pulled up the collar of his long coat to keep the rain from dribbling down his back. He was uncomfortable enough without that misery adding in.

The Hunter had left the site where the Guardian made a stand against him, feeling conflicted and angry with it. He needed to sort himself out. This storm had seen him do something unique and unsettling; he had allowed the quarry to escape him.

Now, the Hunter wondered why. How could he do such a thing? He didn’t care for self-questioning. He never allowed himself to indulge in it, at least not until this moment. And he didn’t like where his thoughts were leading him.

He looked up at the water streaming past him. The river was dark with powerful currents moving deep within it. The upended roots of a small tree, torn from the earth by the rising waters, swirled by. Its skeletal branches reached up out of the surface as if in mute cry for rescue.

Oddly discomfited by the sight he looked away. His thoughts pursued him. If I allow the Guardian to live, what does that make of me? I am the Hunter. I am feared and respected. I must be going soft letting the Guardian get away. The idea sent a shiver up his spine. He had hardened himself and made a reputation over the years by never giving up, never allowing his quarry respite or reprieve. Why should I do so now? The Guardian is a beast, like any other.

A quiet voice spoke in his mind. No, it is not.

The Hunter leapt to his feet, snarling, “Enough!”  Mortaring the chinks of his inner walls with anger he abandoned introspection with relief, and grabbed up his long bow, throwing his worn hunting pack on over shoulders dark with rain. Whirling toward the incline, he retraced his own footsteps, now almost washed away in the downpour. He stomped through the mud, back to where his quarry had hastily left the scene of confrontation, and took up the hunt once more.

*****

Accompanied by the unremitting deluge, Lisle hurried along on soggy feet behind Ell, who moved with ungainly speed through the muddied forest. She heard only the interminable sound of rain pouring down around her, muting all else, and the squelching of her own feet in the softened earth. Moss wasted no time snuggling back under the cover of Lisle’s pack as the companions made their way away from the aborted scene of battle. Out of the corner of her eye, Lisle saw Moss’s dripping, green face, with miniature hands holding the top of the pack about her head like a hood. She turned her head constantly, sharp eyes watching in back of them and to the sides. 

Terris trudged behind Lisle. As the rain lightened for just a moment, she could hear the swishing of his arms, rubbing wetly against the sides of his coat as he stayed close. She turned and saw Gareth, at the back of the group,  attempting with some success to cover their muddied tracks. She felt a surge of appreciation for her staunch companions filling her chest with warmth. They didn't have to be here. Even Terris could have left, but she was so glad that he didn't. 

They traveled fast until almost nightfall. Ell took to the sky when the rain permitted. By end day, the exhausted companions stumbled into a tiny clearing beside a fast running stream that would be their camp for the night.

The storm finally passed that night, leaving the air fresh and clean. By morning the forest felt renewed as the damp earth, warmed by the sun, sent up tendrils of early morning mist. 

Ell had been up before the waking of the sun, pacing their campsite and inadvertently waking the three who were not on watch. Lisle, awake for several hours on early morning watch, now gazed tiredly at a large, opalescent blue flutter. It slowly wafted its wings from where it perched on a low, sunlit branch, drying them in the early light.  She dragged herself to her feet and set about packing her things. Clearly, Ell would want them to move on soon.  

Terris now bustled about readying a cold meal. He stopped for a moment to hike up his baggy trousers and tighten the leather belt which rested about his considerably reduced waist. He passed a portion of indeterminate dried meat to Gareth who sat on a damp log at the edge of their camp site, sharpening his knife and scanning the woods about them at regular intervals.

Then he stepped over to Lisle, his hand outstretched holding a piece of jerky and a meal cake. "Best eat this quick 'afore we're movin' agin."

Lisle took the offering with an appreciative smile. "T...Ta," and set to chewing.

She broke off a piece of the meal cake and passed it to Moss as she flitted to land on Lisle's shoulder.  Hair once again a halo of green curls, Moss seemed on edge. Grabbing the bit of meal cake, she fluttered to land on a branch and stared out into the trees as she made rapid work of her rations. Then she buzzed back to Lisle’s shoulder again. Back and forth, she seemed unable to settle.

Her unrest put Lisle on edge too. Lisle was already feeling Ell's agitation, and would be glad to get moving again.

They traveled easily that day. Ell urged speed and after a short rest at midday they moved on. Gareth returned at a trot soon after and said breathlessly, pointing North, “Guardian Mountain is right there. We’re close.”

They made camp that night at the very edge of the forest, as the huge trees suddenly ended in a field of low shrubs and rocky outcroppings.

Lisle stood just in front of one of the perimeter trees beside Ell. They both looked up at Guardian Mountain as it rose majestically above them; its height dwarfing the enormous tree behind them. A cool breeze drifted down the side of the mountain,  brushing through the shrubby evergreens which covered its sides part way up, carrying with it their fresh scent.

The look of the evergreens reminded Lisle of the hair on the sides of her Fa’s balding head. The thought of her Fa, sent a pang of longing through her for their little cottage, the warm evenings by the hearth reading the Book of One, and her sister, Mina's kindness.  Even when I go back, she thought, it will never be the same. She hurriedly wiped  away unexpected and unwelcome tears with the back of her sleeve. Then she reached out to rest her hand on the comforting bulk of Ell's side.

Ell arched her long neck, turning her head to look back at Lisle, golden eyes shining. Lisle stared back into the molten beauty of those eyes and she felt so warm, so loved and cared for. It was enough. 

Then she looked back at the mountain, lifting her eyes higher now, and saw that above the tree line bare rock jutted up into the sky, gray and forbidding. The conical mountain ended in a jagged edged peak that Lisle, awed, recognized from her dream journey with Ell. She knew that deep within lay the massive Cavern of the Guardians. She could see that to get there they would have to climb up the side of Guardian Mountain. The thought sent a shiver of anticipation up her legs. They were almost there.