Stud (32 page)

Chapter 21

Tarq waited until an hour or so after dawn to go hunting for draniks. On any other world, he would’ve gone out earlier since prey animals were typically more active during the twilight hours, but he felt sure that the draniks would have figured out that it was best to remain hidden until the vrelnots were gone for the day.

Lucy was still sleeping peacefully, and while he dressed, he fought the urge to linger, to hold her while she slept, and be the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes.

But there would be other mornings for that. He had to get moving. Before, he had wished that they might never reach Noklar. But now the need to arrive in that city was more urgent than ever. Just as soon as the spaceport was in sight, he would tell her he loved her. That way, he could steal her right out from beneath Vertigan’s nose before she had a chance to change her mind, and she couldn’t back out because she’d already be there with all the others believing her to be his mate. She couldn’t say no then. Not after all he’d done to get her there safely.

Well, yes, she could. She could leave him standing in the spaceport with his heart ripped out while she took the first transport to any place she chose. She might even leave on Vertigan’s arm. She still had the credits Tarq had given her and would no longer need his money or his protection. The only reason she would leave this world with him would be if she loved him. Unless Dax were to offer her a free ride on the
Valorcry.
Then Tarq would have even more time to spend with her. Hmm…

With that cheery thought in mind, Tarq tested his bow. A few practice shots proved that it was powerful, if not terribly accurate. Still, with a large enough target, he doubted he would miss. It felt good to handle a bow again, and with a bit more practice, his aim improved.

After tying the arrows to his belt with a braided cord he’d made from bark fibers, he slung the bow over his shoulder and set out. The mountainside was shrouded in mist, the dew lying heavy on the grass and dripping from the trees. Farther down the slope, the fog thickened until sight and sound were both obscured. Knowing that he might come upon the dranik herd at any moment, he walked softly, for if they were to flee, he wouldn’t get off a single shot before they disappeared into the mist. Ordinarily he would have scouted the area to discover their feeding grounds and then come back even earlier and wait for them to arrive, but he felt certain that his natural stealth would be enough to overcome this handicap.

He paused from time to time to listen. Hardly a sound penetrated the fog. A few birds called out high overhead, but he heard nothing that sounded like a particularly large animal moving about. He had gone a few meters when he stopped again. A snapping twig. The soft munching sound of a grazing animal chewing on plants.

Then he heard it: a wing beat just above him as a shadow passed over. Whatever it was, it was huge—either a bird of prey or a carrion eater. Slowly, carefully, Tarq readied his bow and crept silently onward.

The fog began to lift. There was nothing in sight. Tarq realized that what he’d heard must have seemed closer due to the dense fog. Then he heard the rushing beat of wings and the clattering of small hooves over rough ground. Moments later he found what had caused it.

He was right about one thing: It was huge. An enormous bird of prey with leathery bat-like wings and a slender scaly body—and the head of a vrelnot—had made its kill and was already feeding on the fallen dranik, ripping strips of meat from its bones with its razor-sharp beak.

“Holy shit.” Obviously the vrelnot’s nocturnal habits also included the occasional hunting trip in the early morning fog. And why he hadn’t put the whole “prehistoric bird” thing together when he’d seen the head mounted on the wall was beyond him.
I
never
was
very
smart, though.

For the moment the vrelnot was occupied with its kill and ignored him. But then it turned its large glassy eyes on Tarq as though trying to decide whether he would be better eating than the dranik buck it was currently devouring.

Apparently Tarq looked tasty.

With a flap of its reptilian wings, the vrelnot began to advance. Tarq nocked an arrow and raised the bow, staring the beast straight in the eyes. Outrunning it wasn’t an option; by standing his ground Tarq already had it slightly confused, but if he missed the shot, he was dead. Another step of a clawed foot, and then another. The vrelnot opened its beak and hissed. Tarq didn’t move a muscle.

After taking another step, the beast paused. Tarq held his breath, waiting.

The vrelnot took another step, stopped again—and blinked.

Tarq loosed the arrow, hitting the monster in the center of its left eye.

The vrelnot’s screech of rage and pain nearly split Tarq’s eardrums, and it swung its wings wildly, thrashing about as it attempted to dislodge the arrow. A swipe of a talon-tipped wing knocked Tarq to the ground and sliced through his pant leg, opening a long gash in his thigh. Tarq rolled away and leaped to his feet just as the vrelnot took another wild swing. Tarq could feel blood running down his leg and knew he had to finish this quickly. Spotting the bow, he ran toward it, snatching it up as he passed.

Never dreaming he’d be fighting for his life, Tarq had made only three arrows, one of which was now being cast aside by the vrelnot. Though wounded in one eye, the beast could apparently still see, its head following Tarq’s movements as he scrambled toward the vrelnot’s blind side.
Only
two
arrows
left.

Reaching down for another arrow, he discovered that one of them must have broken when he fell. As the vrelnot lunged at him again, Tarq ran sideways, back into the beast’s blind spot. Once there, he nocked his last arrow and waited for a clear shot. As the vrelnot swung its head to the side to focus its remaining eye on him, Tarq fired.

And missed. The arrow glanced off the side of its head.

His only hope now was to lure the beast out of the way so he could retrieve the arrow, either that or find the one he’d shot first—if it hadn’t already been trampled into bits. Tarq was beginning to wish he’d brought along Lucy’s pistol. Granted, it might have only made the thing angrier than it already was, but it was still better than nothing. He didn’t relish the idea of being close enough to try to kill it with his knife.

With no other ideas coming to mind, Tarq resorted to throwing rocks. There were plenty of these lying about, and he hit the vrelnot with a few of them, one even striking the creature in its wounded eye. There was no way he could kill it with a rock, even if he’d had a slingshot—which he made a mental note to make if he managed to get out of his current predicament alive—but it did serve to distract the animal while Tarq tried to think of another tactic.

Finally deciding to use himself as bait, Tarq circled around and made a run for the fallen dranik. “Better come and get me before I steal your breakfast,” he taunted.

If the thing had been pissed before, it was livid now. Extending its wings to their fullest extent, the vrelnot flapped them once and rose into the air. Tarq waited until it was almost upon him and then dashed beneath it. Making a dive for the arrow, he rolled away and was back on his feet in seconds.

The arrow was undamaged. Tarq readied his bow.

Still airborne, the vrelnot made a loop back toward Tarq, its wings almost skimming the ground. At the last second before the bird swooped in for the kill, Tarq darted sideways into its blind spot. The vrelnot struck, getting nothing but talons full of dirt and rocks. It turned again, sweeping the area with its one remaining eye.

Tarq waited for a clear shot, but this time when the vrelnot spotted him, it lunged toward him with its beak open wide, hissing like a steaming kettle. Tarq let it get almost within striking distance and fired.

This time, the arrow found its mark, hitting the vrelnot squarely in the other eye.

Now completely blinded, the vrelnot was more dangerous than ever before, shrieking and flapping its wings madly as it plunged toward Tarq’s last position, the arrow still embedded in its eye. Snatching up a rock, Tarq darted in between the huge wings to slam it against the end of the arrow, driving it deeply into the monster’s brain. With a final screech, the vrelnot fell dead.

Panting hard, Tarq glanced around him. The only dranik in sight was the one the vrelnot had killed. He had no desire to try to butcher the vrelnot—the hide was probably too tough for his knife to slice through and the meat was bound to taste terrible anyway—so he salvaged his stray arrows and heaved the dead dranik over his shoulders. Fortunately the buck wasn’t very large and the vrelnot hadn’t had time to eat much of it. The climb up the steep slope to the cave was difficult, but at least he didn’t have to be quiet this time, and he
was
bringing home his kill. Sort of.

“If I don’t bleed to death before I get there.” Tarq glanced down at his leg periodically, noting that though the bleeding was now sluggish, he’d already lost a fair amount of blood. Still, he was grateful that the talon hadn’t caught him a little more to the left. Dranik meat was sure to be a tasty treat, but no matter how good it was, it certainly wasn’t worth losing his dick.

Having heard the horrific sounds coming from below, Lucy and the others were already headed down the mountainside when she spotted Tarq and let out a scream. He had blood all over him and at least some of it appeared to be his. “Tarq! You’re bleeding! What happened?”

Terufen scurried over to Tarq, hopping up and down and cackling with glee. “Ha ha! You got a dranik! We are gonna eat tonight!”

Tarq glared at him. “No. The
vrelnot
got the dranik.
I
got the vrelnot.” He leaned over, dropping the bloody carcass to the ground. “Someone might have at least
mentioned
that the damned things could fly!”

“Sorry about that,” Vertigan said sheepishly as Rufus sniffed at the dead animal. “I guess we figured you knew that.”

Nat, at least, was properly impressed. “You killed a
vrelnot
? Wow!”

Traldeck scratched his head. “Never seen one out this time of day. Must be the fog.”

“You
think
?”

Lucy had never seen Tarq quite so angry before, but Bratol was laughing his creepy oversized head off. There were tears streaming from his eerie red eyes and he was wheezing so hard Lucy thought he would choke—and half wished he would. She felt like slapping him—or at least stunning him with the pistol she held in her hand.
No, not worth wasting a shot on him…

Bratol waved a hand as he regained control of himself. “As I said, there is more to you than you know. This is how you will deliver us.”

“What? Deliver you how? As a bleeding carcass slung over my shoulder?” Tarq appeared to consider this and seemed to like the idea—if it were Bratol’s carcass, that is.

“No, by proving that the obstacles we face are not insurmountable.” As Bratol approached Tarq, his eyes began to change color. “Allow me to help you.”

Lucy watched in horrified fascination as the little alien’s eyes changed from red to purple, then blue, followed by a deep aquamarine. Tarq’s expression went blank as he leaned down, allowing Bratol to take his face in his hands. The Zerkan’s snake-like tongue slipped out of his mouth, growing in length until it reached Tarq’s wounded leg. A ball formed at the base of Bratol’s tongue and slid slowly down the length of it until it was expelled onto the wound with a quick gush of aquamarine slime. Bratol bowed slightly and released Tarq as his tongue whipped back into his mouth.

Lucy cleared her throat. “Okay. Now
that
was weird.”

“We Zerkans are known for our healing powers,” Bratol said. “The fluid will help him heal more quickly.”

“He heals pretty well on his own,” Lucy said. “You just have to let him sort of… sleep it off.”

Tarq staggered for a few steps and sat down heavily on the ground. “I’m all right. I think.” He swallowed hard and gave his head a quick shake. “Weird is right, though.” Blinking hard, he leaned forward, pressing the heels of his hands against his forehead.

Lucy wasn’t sure what to do. Slapping Bratol was pointless now, even if she
was
still mad at him for laughing at Tarq like that. Well, maybe not laughing
at
him exactly, but it still struck her as being a rather tacky thing to do, whether he’d “healed” Tarq or not. All she knew was that she wanted everyone else to go away and leave her alone with Tarq.

“That’s a good-sized dranik you got there,” Kotcamp said. “Thank you. You have done what no one else has been able to do since we got here.”

Walkuta nodded in agreement. Pressing her palms together, she bowed as though about to bestow a blessing on Tarq—or the dranik. Lucy wasn’t sure which. Either way, she was losing patience with them. “Look, why don’t you all take that dranik back to the cave and get it ready to cook. Walkuta can bless it or whatever and I’ll stay here with Tarq until he can walk.”