Chapter Thirty-Nine

To Skin a Drake

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Inerys may have been skilled in the visceral art of field dressing, but it didn’t mean she enjoyed it. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was sticky, smelly business and she was often alone in her dealings which made some hunts far more difficult than others, depending on the kill.

She wasn’t quite sure where to start on a creature of this size. Subtract the wings and perhaps half of the tail and the drake was comparable to Ephaxus himself. It was a daunting prospect, considering the largest animal she had ever cleaned was an elk.

Pulling up the sleeves of the blouse Ayduin had lent her, she walked a slow circle around the beast. She’d never processed a tail before. Or something with scales, for that matter. Did they pull off like hide or were they more tedious? Something had to hold them to the body, right? She’d never put much thought into the specifics before. Inspecting the ridging along its hips, she decided she’d find out soon enough.

The wounds Ephaxus had left in its back were deep, perhaps enough to have punctured the gut cavity. Such was less than ideal, but she could still work with it. What she was less certain of, was how much of the backstrap was actually salvageable. There was plenty of meat beyond it, but it was one of her favorite cuts on most other animals. There were always the tenderloins, though.

“How much of this are you planning on harvesting?” She asked, sparing the other woman a glance over her shoulder.

Ayduin angled the blade she’d been sharpening, judging its length with a critical eye.

“As much as we can,” she said, “I think we’ve all grown tired of venison and fish.”

Inerys wrinkled her nose at the mention of the latter. Once, she’d enjoyed the trout she’d occasionally buy from the market, but now the scaly little creatures turned her stomach. They had been smelly enough before her transition, but at least they’d been somewhat bearable. Now, she had to force herself not to gag at their mere proximity whenever Cydan fished them from the lake and brought them back to camp.

“Neither one of them are all that appetizing these days,” she said.

Admittedly, she’d been far more interested in the blood Sorisanna prepared for her each night. Essence aside, the herbs offered a far more interesting flavor profile. She sometimes missed the more complex notes the mens’ blood provided, but she was content to keep that little detail to herself. Especially around Ayduin.

“Most of it will go to the wyverns, but there’s more than enough to be had for ourselves. Never dressed anything like this, I take it?”

“A drake? No. We’ve nothing remotely close to these in the Fringe. There may be some out in the deepwoods, but I’ve never been misfortunate enough to see one.”

“Fair enough. Luckily, most of the principles still apply, so it won’t be all that different from what I imagine you’re used to.”

“I’m glad to hear I’m not completely out of my depth,” she said, eyeing one of the wounds that had bled.

She hadn’t eaten yet . . .

And Ayduin had noticed her staring.

Of course she had.

“Do you need a moment?” She asked.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You sure? Because I’m not nearly as charitable as Rhydian is.”

Inerys huffed a laugh that was devoid of any humor.

“I never had the impression you were. You made your feelings rather clear when you aimed that arrow at me.”

Rather than deny or deflect, Ayduin met her eyes.

“You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”

“I suppose I am.”

“Then I’d say my intentions speak for themselves,” she said.

They did, despite the unease she felt after what had transpired. The notion didn’t exactly make them friends, but at least the two were still amicable. All things considered, things could be far worse.

Ayduin gestured for her to follow.

“I’d gather what blood you can before we start. It’ll be good to have some extra on hand.”

Nodding absently, Inerys fell into step and suddenly found herself peering into an archway that appeared to lead into some sort of store room.

She shivered.

“I don’t think I’ll ever quite get used to that,” she said, blinking at the sight of an open doorway in the middle of the forest.

“Funny,” Ayduin said, stepping into her annex, “Having grown up around them, I hardly notice anymore.”

The air inside the place was notably still as she followed her inside. There was a certain stagnation that made her nose itch, but she chose to ignore it. While she was no expert, she knew enough to know spaces like these were inherently odd.

The contents within the large room were remarkably well organized, complete with row upon row of neatly arranged shelves. Everything had a place and a clear division based off the specific type of provision. Rhydian hadn’t been lying when he’d claimed the woman had just about anything someone might need. There were blankets and clothes, tools and trinkets. There were even baskets of fruits and vegetables and other perishables Inerys realized were not all that vulnerable in a place like this. Suspended animation was quite the preservation method, it seemed.

Were those cases of wine over in the corner? And sheets of leather along the adjacent wall? Spirits, what didn’t this woman have on hand? She led her down one of the short isles with a hum and paused in the middle to glance over the center shelves with a finger to her lips.

“Ah, there we are. I knew I had a few extra jars on hand,” she said, reaching to tap one of the slatted wooden crates before her.

By a few, the woman meant two dozen. Nearly all were quart-sized. Inerys couldn’t help but wonder what she used them for. Or planned on using them for, rather.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable sharing them for such . . .unsavory purposes?” she asked.

Ayduin shrugged a shoulder.

“If it keeps you from snacking on anyone else, I’d say it's a small price to pay,” she said, “I’ll store them too, so long as you make sure they’re sealed tight when you’re done harvesting.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Now, hop to it. We have a lot of work ahead of us.”

Inerys didn’t argue.

When she’d returned to the drake, she’d only brought six jars with her. It was a perfectly respectable number, she thought. Enough to gather what she needed without taking advantage of the generosity. However, Ayduin had other plans, for she brought the remaining eighteen and set them and their crates beside her without a word.

“Point taken,” she sighed.

“Good,” she said, “Now, I’m going to start skinning. Come find me when you’re done.”

With a small sigh, she set to work once Ephaxus had positioned the carcass into a more advantageous arrangement. Instead of placing the filled jars back into their respective crates once she was finished, Inerys set them aside. Collecting what she’d needed had been easy enough, but it was not without its messiness. More than a few bore bloody handprints that would need to be rinsed prior to storage. A task she knew was easy enough for a woman who commanded water the way Rhydian did fire. Compared to Sorisanna, the two used their abilities so infrequently that the huntress sometimes came up with subtle excuses in order to see them do so. Conjuring water in order to clean jars might seem a mundane task to everyone else, but to Inerys, it was still an awe-inspiring sight.

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She wondered what she might be capable of, if given the chance, as she made her way to Ayduin. The woman had sectioned out the larger, bony scales along the creature’s back and already worked the wide strap away from the flesh from the base of its head, to its hips. Vaelor held the long strip aloft in his mouth as she worked, drawing it higher bit by bit as she separated it from the rest of the hide. The dark pigment held hints of blue and green, which occasionally caught in the light. What would the guild pay for something of this quality? This rarity? Inerys imagined they might be beside themselves if they ever managed to acquire such a material.

She noticed, along the exposed muscle and spine, that there were four, large, clean punctures along the shoulders and neck. Something metallic poked out among the flesh, but she couldn’t place what it was. It almost appeared to be the end of some giant metal rod with a rounded end.

“What are those?” She asked.

Iron darts, Ephaxus said.

“Wait, these are yours, aren’t they? Fashioned into one of the techniques you were telling me about?”

He gave a pleased sort of purr, Indeed.

Her brow rose.

“I can’t say I’ve ever seen darts of that size before. You don’t think they were overkill? What with your claws and everything?”

Had they been properly aimed, he could have ended the threat with a single projectile through the skull, she thought.

I hadn’t considered it at the time, he admitted.

She didn’t need him to explain any further, considering the circumstance.

“Either way,” she said, “They’re impressive.”

“And difficult to carve around,” Ayduin said.

I will remove them once you are at a safe distance, he assured.

She drew back once she finished her cut midway down the drake’s tail and wiped her brow with the back of her exposed forearm as Vaelor moved to drape the bony panel from one of the nearby branches. With the whole of the backstrap exposed, Inerys could finally judge its viability. Certain sections were still usable, but between the bruising and other damage, she wondered if it was even worth the effort.

“I imagine we’re going gutless with this one?” She asked.

Unless there was a more appropriate gralloching method she wasn’t aware of, it was best suited for the task at hand.

Ayduin nodded, “I’d rather not deal with the nasty bits more than necessary. We’ll have to contend with them to a degree when we dig out the cores, but I’ll show you how to do so without having to wrestle the guts.”

The mental image had Inerys growing green around the edges.

Ayduin gave her a wry smile.

“Come now, don’t tell me our resident blood drinker has a weak stomach?”

“I’ve always had a . . . thing about the intestines,” she said, trying and failing to put the image of the wretched things out of her head.

“A . . . thing?”

Inerys brought a hand to her mouth and forced herself to take a deep breath.

“It’s hard to explain,” she admitted, “ let’s just say the sight of them makes me sick and leave it at that.”

If she went into any real detail, she’d really start retching.

“Seems like more than just the sight,” Ayduin said, analyzing her in perhaps a new light, “I didn’t take you for the squeamish type.”

“We all have our shortcomings. To be fair, it's the only organ I take issue with.”

“Fair enough. Well, lucky for you, they shouldn’t make an appearance tonight.”

As it would turn out, skinning a drake was not all that different from skinning an elk. The textures were different and there was far less hair to worry about, but the task in itself was equally straight forward. Tedious, on something so large, but manageable between the two of them. Ayduin could give any seasoned Hound a run for their money, if Inerys were honest. She was fairly certain even Dravas would be impressed.

“Have you hunted these before?” She asked.

The woman glanced up from where she was cleaning the last of the hide from the tail.

“More often than you might think. When we were sent off for our survival training, we found them easier to hunt than the prey species,” she said, then tilted her head in apparent consideration, “I learned when I was a girl, though. My clan made a living hunting banuk. More giant skinks than drakes, but they’re close enough.”

“Your clan?”

“Ah,” Ayduin hummed, “Sometimes I forget your lack of worldliness. It’s a small community of sorts. Ours was nomadic, so we never settled in one place for long.”

“That must have made things interesting.”

She shrugged, “I’d never known anything else. Honestly, it took me years to feel comfortable in one place after they sold me to the Talhavar.”

Inerys nearly sliced open her own finger as her blade slipped.

“Wait, they sold you?”

“I manifested a natural affinity,” she said simply, “I was worth ten times the clan’s annual profit. It was an easy choice for them.”

“I've never heard of- how old were you?”

“Thirteen.”

Inerys hadn't even been out hunting on her own at that age. The concept of buying and selling someone as if they were livestock was unsettling in a way she'd never thought possible. Was such common practice in the world at large? Were all members of the Talhavar bought? Spirits', what of Rhydian? Ephaxus?

“I'm sorry,” she said, uncertain of what else one could say in the face of such a revelation, “Was it difficult for you?”

“It's. . .not like that. Bad, I mean. If anything, the Talhavar saved me. Living in the desert was as much a gamble as our hunts. Sure, the sudden change took time to get used to, but otherwise, it was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“And that's where you met Rhydian and the others?”

She tugged at the freed hide, then began to carefully roll it from the tail up.

“He was my first friend, actually. Found me early on in my arrival, but he'd already been at the academy for a few years at that point,” she said.

Inerys smiled a little.

“So he's always been fond of strays?”

“To his own detriment, yes,” she sighed.

It was an admirable quality, she thought, even if she did agree with Ayduin on some level. The man took responsibility for everyone and everything with little regard to his own health. The previous night had been proof enough. One day, she hoped to prove less of a burden to him, to repay him for all he'd done. She hadn't the slightest idea how she might achieve it, but she would try.

“For what it's worth, I'm glad to have met you all,” she said quietly, “I only wish it had been under better circumstances.”

It was some time before Ayduin said, “Kieshara would have liked you.”

Ephaxus gave a soft, almost mournful rumble in agreement.

With his help, they quartered the drake's exposed side, taking everything shy of the backstrap. Strong as she and Ayduin were, there was only so much they could do in order to reasonably articulate the limbs and tail of a beast that likely weighed close to six tons, if not more. It had taken all three of them per limb, the women slicing through muscle and tendon while Ephaxus maneuvered respective pieces as necessary. They'd already decided to divide the legs among the wyverns along with a good portion of the tail, though there was still plenty left for everyone else. The tail alone yielded four impressive loins on its own, though they had yet to harvest the other half.

“It's best to carve out the cores before you dress the other side,” Ayduin said, gesturing down the length of the body with her blade, “you lose some stability otherwise.”

“Makes sense.”

She pointed toward the partially exposed pelvis.

“The physical core is the most troublesome. If you're not careful, you'll puncture the gut, so it's best to take things slow.”

Inerys resisted the urge to hold a hand over her nose as the woman worked, walking her through each step with the care of any proper instructor. She deftly sliced through membrane and flesh alike, explaining how and where to push in order to keep the nasty bits safe and away while she extracted the core.

The glow alone was unmistakable, shining through the gore as it was unveiled. It was around the size of a small melon and appeared more like some glass sphere rather than the incorporeal mass she expected, a lacey sort of membrane encasing it.

“The cores are solid?” She asked.

“More or less,” Ayduin said, “the different aspects of the soul exist in a sort of limbo between the physical and spiritual realm while you’re alive. After death, the cores and meridians solidify and are left behind in the physical world.”

To her credit, the secondrider humored Inerys’ dozen follow-up questions over the next hour with little complaint, pointing out the various meridians and their connection points. They were shrivelled and black as the membrane they'd been pulled from, but still distinguishable enough to identify. The whole system was as fascinating as it was disturbing.

She repeated a similar process in order to extract the spiritual core, though it had involved the breaking of at least two ribs near the heart. Inerys had lended her own strength to the effort, she and Ayduin prying the bones apart in favor of cracking them in two. Blood had welled from the site, one of Ephaxus’ darts having punctured clear through the lung. They'd both leapt back in order to let the cavity drain, but retrieved the core as soon as they were able.

Unlike the warm gold of the physical core, the spiritual was a deep brown and emitted little in the way of light. Upon closer inspection, however, Inerys noted a sort of sparkely bronze dust swirling about inside.

“What you're seeing is earth essence,” Ayduin said, “spiritual cores often adopt a color related to whatever essence affinity they contain.”

“So ordinary animals can manifest affinities and rysk?”

“They can, though it's not quite the same. Their system may be similar to ours, but it's fairly rudimentary. They have to achieve a certain level of sentience in order to properly develop their souls.”

The fact they could do so at all was incredible.