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Ice doesn’t talk

But this one did, voices ensconced between each crackling hiss as the frost forroaned from a place far below the ice, far below the earth And they spoke in hateful, angry whispers, speaking of treachery, of distrust He felt their loathing, their fury, but they spoke a language he only barely understood in frag to h they dearly wanted him to hear and would curse him with their hoary whispers if he didn’t expend every last ounce of his will to do so

As far as events that made him question his sanity went, this one wasn’t the worst

‘What?’ he whispered to it ‘What is it?’

‘Survive,’ so whispered back

‘Yo! Sa-klea!’

‘What?’ Lenk whispered

‘Didn’t say anything,’ the voice replied

‘Not you The ice’ He looked up, glancing about ‘Or … someone’

‘Dasso?’

‘Hide,’ Lenk whispered

‘Sound advice,’ the voice agreed

Too weary to run, Lenk li up his sword as he did No sooner had he pressed his belly against the forest floor than he saw the leaves of the underbrush rustle and stir

Whatever ee did so with casual ease inappropriate for such dense greenery Its features were indecipherable through the gloohtly hunched build

Denaos? He quickly discounted that thought; the rogue wouldn’t enter so recklessly Any further reseht have borne to Lenk’s coreen foot into the

Even as it stepped fully into the light, Lenk was at a loss as to its identity It stood tall on two long, thick legs, like a man, but that was all the resemblance to huether, were stretched hard over lean muscle, exposed save for the loincloth it wore at its hips, fro tail protruded

Its head, large and reptilian, swung back and forth, two hard yellow eyes peering through the darkness; a liled beneath its chin It held a spear, little more than a sharpened stick, in two clawed hands as it searched the night

Suddenly, its gaze ca place His blood froze; chilled for the stare, frigid for the sudden sight of red splotches upon its chest and hands

If the creature saw Lenk, it gave no indication Instead, it swivelled its head back to the underbrush and croaked out so voice

‘Sa-klea,’ it hissed ‘Na-ah ain and a second creature, nearly identical to the first, slinked out into the clearing It swept its gaze about, scratched its scaly beard

‘Dasso Noh hed ‘Kai-ja’ It raised two fingers and pressed theainst the side of its head in panto its teeth ‘Lah shict-wa noh samaila’

His eyes lit up at the word, spoken with an ire he had felt pass his own lips ht They said ‘shict’ Did they find her?

He saw the ruby hues of the spatters upon their chests Lenk felt his heart turn to a cold lump of ice

That chill lasted for all of the tihten his e clutched his head as he clutched his weapon He reat for his fury to overcoony as he did

‘What was that supposed to be?’ the voice hissed

‘They killed her … they killed her,’ he replied through clenched teeth

‘She is dead’

‘They killed her …’

‘Is that important? That she is dead? Or is what is important that they must die?’

‘Ka-a, ka-a,’ one of the scaly creatures sighed as it knelt by the brook and brought a handful of water to its lips ‘Utuu ah-ka, ja?’

‘Ka-a,’ the second one apparently agreed, hefting its spear

‘What do you reeeance is craved’

‘And you want to stop eance is noble’

‘Vengeance is pure,’ Lenk agreed

‘Ka-a,’ the first oneto its feet ‘Utuu ah Tuwa, uut fu-uh nant for a‘Kai-ja Poyok’

The first one bobbed its bearded head and turned on a large, flat foot It slinked into the underbrush as it had eh water Its coaze over its shoulder It narrowed its eyes upon Lenk’s rock for a moment before it, too, slid into the underbrush

‘Vengeance …’ the voice began

‘Requires patience,’ Lenk finished

He huddled up against his rock, snatching up a nearby tuber and chewing on it softly, as ht, he would rest and recuperate Tomorrow, he would search

He would search for Sebast He would search for his companions If he found neither, he would search for bodies

If the lizard-things had left nothing, then he would search for them

He would find them He would ask them

And they would tell him, Lenk resolved, when they all held hands and pluether

Eleven

THE INOPPORTUNE

CONSCIENCE