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.
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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.