Sotet polishes off the last morsels of his meal and politely places the metal dish on the ground beside him. He releases a deep sigh which carries with it a thousand unspoken words of gratitude.

Adahlia watches Sotet as he meticulously cleans his talons with a handkerchief; before placing the handkerchief on his empty dish. She chooses that moment to walk over to him and sit down. Sotet seems to be doing a little better— after his meal of fish and hivul stew. A new vitality flows through him and a smile softens his features.

“Hi, little one,” Sotet says, his kind smile growing larger. “Did you enjoy your meal? You seemed to be having quite a time catching up old Diyrl on all of your adventures with Lerfaf.”

Adahlia shyly returns Sotet’s smile and picks at a few roots sticking up out of the ground near her right thigh. “Yes. I did enjoy my meal, Sotet. It was….Interesting. But also delicious. I enjoyed talking with Diyrl too. She’s a lot less boring than Lerfaf. He’s so rigid and formal. Diyrl is—Well… a bit gruff. Like a cantankerous goat. Or a mother hen. It can be charming at times. But, also a little overbearing. I like her—don’t get me wrong. But I wouldn’t want to spend an entire season alone with her—like I did with Lerfaf. Boring is a lot better than a grumpy-gus.”

Sotet laughs silently and shakes his head. “Better not let her hear you say that. She’ll probably turn us all into charred lix morsels.”

Sotet and Adahlia share a brief laugh. Suddenly, Adahlia springs forward and hugs Sotet furiously. Tears stream down Adahlia’s face and she sobs uncontrollably. Sotet draws her closer and strokes her hair. He is unsure of how to console her. Adahlia slowly speaks through her tears.

“I tried to keep track of the days while you and Diyrl were asleep. I counted one-hundred and eighty-seven of them. Do you know what that means, Sotet?”

Sotet shakes his head in a negative fashion. “I’m sorry, Adahlia. I don’t know what you mean?”

Adahlia powers through her sobs and tries again. “It means…Even if I did go back home….Today…Things would be different. My birthday was nine days ago. I’m thirteen now.”

Sotet trills softly and holds Adahlia even closer. “So, my little one is not so little anymore. Good for you, Adahlia. I am so sorry you could not spend this time with your mother. But just think, you are almost two-hundred days closer to seeing her again. You’ve managed to survive half a world cycle on this barren world. Lerfaf’s boring commentary notwithstanding. You’re tougher and braver than you realize, Adahlia.”

Adahlia hugs Sotet still tighter. She buries her face in his plumage and mutters loudly. “I don’t feel brave.”

Sotet crinkles his face and releases a heavy sigh. Suddenly, it is as if a light has come on in his mind. He loosens his hug and holds Adahlia at arm’s length.

“You know what, Adahlia? I’ve regained some of my old strength. That bandolier you wanted…How about I start on it tomorrow? It’ll be a late birthday present. To celebrate a new milestone in your life and your journey. I might even be able to salvage enough metal from a few of the cryo pods to make you a half-sword. Like the one I carry. For protection—in case we run into some really bad worlders. What

do you say?”

Adahlia beams with absolute joy and throws her arms around Sotet’s neck.

“What do I say?” Adahlia screams with delight. “Thank you, Thank you, Sotet. Thank you.”

Sotet returns Adahlia’s fierce hug—imagining he is holding Kotoro and his clutchlings tight. “You’re welcome, little one.”

_

_

A thin figure peeks around the trunk of one of the numerous shade trees clumped together near the pond. Small, slanted yellow eyes narrow as they stare through the night darkness. A soft hiss, and a sound like dried leaves brushing against each other, issues from the slim creature’s throat. Then, the creature scurries up the tree and the yellow eyes disappear.

_

_

Sotet is nowhere in sight when Adahlia wakes up in the morning. Looking around, Adahlia remembers their conversation from the previous evening and jumps to her feet. Adahlia struggles into her shoes and rushes out of the tiny stone cottage—constructed while Sotet and Diyrl were in deep hibernation. She is beside herself with excitement as she runs towards Sotet’s usual workspace. “Sotet! Can I watch you work today? Sotet? Sot—“

Before Adahlia is more than a few yards from the stone cottage; something whizzes by her ear. Adahlia looks over her shoulder just in time to see a spear stab into the ground behind her. Frozen in place, Adahlia returns her gaze forward. “Huh?”

A loud garbled yell cuts through the air. Adahlia’s eyes widen as a thin green creature launches itself at her from the top of the nearest tree. The creature plows into Adahlia, causing her to slam backward onto the ground. The force of the impact is such that Adahlia slides at least a yard on her back. She screams as the creature leans close to her face and repeats its garbled yelling.

A large shadow passes over Adahlia and the green creature and Adahlia sneaks an upward glance. Diyrl is on a fast approach. With a forceful swipe of a taloned claw, Diyrl knocks the green creature away from Adahlia. The sound of talons scratching dirt tells Adahlia that Sotet is also running in their direction. Adahlia calls out to her friend in fear and desperation. “Sotet! Please. Please help me! Help me!”

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Sotet rushes to Adahlia and scoops her into his arms. He holds Adahlia tight and rocks her gently. “I’m here, Adahlia,” Sotet trills in a comforting voice. “I’m here. Don’t worry.”

Meanwhile, Diyrl has no intention of letting the attack go unpunished. The green creature hisses and struggles to climb to its spindly feet. It eyes Diyrl warily as she drops heavily to the ground—throwing up a large cloud of dust in her fury. Diyrl smiles her wolfish smile and wisps of smoke curl from both corners

of her lips—and even from her nostrils. She calls to the green creature with a voice filled with hatred and mockery. “So, it is you again? Come to finish me off? I think not. This time, I have the advantage.”

Before the creature can react, Diyrl lets loose a gout of flame. The thin creature is completely engulfed and begins to scream its usual gibberish in a loud piercing tone. The gibberish reaches a fever pitch and turns into a scream of utter pain. A loud whinny overcomes the sound of the green creature’s agonized screams and Diyrl glances to her left. Lerfaf. Diyrl whirls on him threateningly. “Stay out of this, Lerfaf!” Diyrl warns. “This creature attacked Adahlia. It attempted to spear her, and when that failed it threw itself upon her. This is no doubt the same creature which injured my wing. It is evil. Let it burn.”

Lerfaf continues to advance. He is unfazed by Diyrl’s fury. “I will not stand here and watch you kill this creature, Diyrl.”

Diyrl growls and puffs out a small flame. “And what do you intend to do about it, Lerfaf?”

Lerfaf takes another few steps forward. His gaze does not waver from Diyrl. “I will heal him!”

Diyrl growls from even deeper in her throat and rears up angrily. “You would heal one who has tried to kill both me and Adahlia? You will do no such thing!”

Lerfaf imitates Diyrl’s wolfish grin and mocks her. “And what do you intend to do if I do heal it? Are you going to murder me, Diyrl? Will that slake your appetite for revenge? What will Adahlia think of you then?”

Adahlia pulls free from Sotet and appeals to both of her arguing friends. “Stop! Please stop fighting! Please stop! Diyrl, please. Please just let him heal it. Please.”

Diyrl bellows and shakes her entire body in obvious frustration. The thin green creature is still screaming and uttering gibberish-- writhing and rolling on the ground literally yards from the pond. Lerfaf considers his debate with Diyrl settled and moves toward the burning creature. Blowing from side to side, over the howling creature, Lerfaf puts out the flames. The creature still screams, but the screams grow lower in pitch. Lerfaf prepares to extend a hoof over the creature—in an attempt to heal its injuries. Diyrl’s booming voice causes Lerfaf to pause. She slams her tail on the ground between Lerfaf and the smoking creature in front of him.

“NO!” Diyrl yells. “Do not touch it!”

Sotet reaches for the laser in his belt and brings it to bear. He is prepared to defend Adahlia if it should come to that. “Diyrl, we’ve been over this. Let him do what needs to be done.”

Diyrl shoots Sotet a snide sneer. “I’m not trying to stop him from healing the cursed thing. I’m offering to do it myself.”

Sotet is taken aback by Diyrl’s admission but does not lower the laser. Lerfaf gives Diyrl a suspicious look. “Why would you do such a thing, Diyrl?”

Diyrl lifts her tail and takes a step towards the charred creature. “Because I can. It is as you said before, Lerfaf: ‘If you believe you can do a thing…You can do it.’ I was once a great healer. I was adviser to one of the most powerful queens on Lixuwon. I was her mage. On my advice, all lix were given supplements of Gorflinit and Spliflich. In order to enhance the healing and magickal abilities already present in a large portion of the lix population. It was only when the leaders of Shretonia threatened to withhold the

supplement if we did not offer up our own kind for experimentation—that I advised our leaders to abandon our alliance with the Olotir worlds. They wanted to synthesize the protein we are born with—the one which gives us our abilities—in an attempt to make the Monoch rulers immortal. I had no idea that after years of taking the supplement—some lix would become dependent on it. That they would grow weak. I can heal this creature, Lerfaf. Against my better judgment—but I will do it. Simply to prove to myself that the power is still within me. At least, let me try.”

Lerfaf takes several steps away from the creature lying on the ground. He does not speak a word. Diyrl steps closer, until she is directly over the creature. She closes her reptilian eyes tightly and begins to mutter. First, softly, but gradually louder.

“Fire and Flame,

Flame and Burn.

As my fire leaveth,

Let it now return.”

Diyrl repeats the magical poem several times with other unintelligible phrases randomly mixed in. Adahlia hugs Sotet tightly as she watches what is occurring.

Suddenly, a small flicker of what looks like a blue flame dances over the green creature’s body. First, one blue flame. Then, another. And another. Then, many blue flames. The creature’s body seems to almost burst into flames a second time; it’s body now encompassed by a blue flame-like light. As they all watch, the creature’s skin turns from a charred near-black to its original gray-green. The thin creature writhes a bit and stares up at Diyrl. A soft hiss issues from its throat and it jumps to its feet. Everyone is immediately on the defense—expecting the green creature to renew its previous attack. Diyrl shakes her massive head sadly. “What did I tell you? A cursed thing.”

The creature drops to a crouch and puts up its fists in a fighting gesture. “Who are you calling a cursed thing? I am Fiel, nephew of Grog—King of the Goblins.”

Adahlia snaps the fingers on her right hand and bounces on her feet. “A goblin! Of course! They’re always up to no good. I don’t know why I didn’t figure it out before. The skinny legs and body, ginormous feet, large yellow eyes, sickly green skin, and pointed head. He is a goblin.”

Fiel takes offense to this description and bounds over to Adahlia. He flicks the tip of her nose with a long finger. “Up to no good?!? Sickly green skin?!? There is nothing wrong with my skin!”

Fiel whirls and points at Diyrl. “And she was supposed to be dinner for our Feast of the Risings. My uncle has told me not to return until I have brought her for our table. You must let me have her!”

Diyrl shoots Lerfaf an angry glare and Lerfaf steps closer to Fiel. “We will do nothing of the kind. You may tell your uncle that.”

Fiel crawls to Lerfaf and falls at his feet. Lying on his belly, Fiel moans bitterly. He raises his head enough to kiss Lerfaf’s front hooves one at a time. “Please, great master. Fore, I can feel you wield great power. Please, if you do not let me have the scaly one I will not be allowed to return to my tribe. I will be disowned.”

“Then, disowned you will be. We will not have this discussion again. Should she choose to go with you; that is another story. Anything else, and you are wasting your time. Be on your way.”

Fiel looks at each member of the group in turn. Without another word, he scrambles almost ape-like from the camp. Diyrl watches him go with an expression of apprehension.

“We haven’t seen the last of him,” Diyrl mutters.

“Nope,” Sotet says in agreement.

Lerfaf sighs and stares into the distance. “I fear you are right.”

Diyrl growls in frustration. “I told you we should have let it burn.”

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