In The Lair of the Draca (Book 2)

In the Lair of the Draca (Book 2) Chapter 29: Trouble for Ziuta

Ziuta approached Haven's Creek, aware on some primal level of the smell of copper and rust. Mottled star-light beamed down through gaps in the verdant foliage, creating a lovely, lattice-like pattern in the moist grass beneath her feet. There was no gale toying with the leaves, no angry trill from a trio of angry mother fruit birds guarding their clutches...not so much as the flicker of a shadow in Ziuta's peripheral vision. Everything was deathly still...and yet, it seemed that a thousand pairs of cold, calculating eyes watched her every move, watched even the heaving of her chest as tight breaths forced themselves in and out of her small, constricted lungs.

Something is not right here, nagged a small voice above Ziuta's ear. You are no more alone in this clearing than the Twin Moons bestow their shine without each other's company.

Ziuta's trembling fingers grasped Gormaq's battered cloak even tighter. The air had cooled; when she exhaled, tiny swirls of white etched delicate lines into the space before her nose. She took a few hesitant steps foreword and cast a hopeful look toward the creek, but the water was still, the area before the bolberry tree where she had reclined with Water Fly countless times deserted and empty.

How many times had she tip-toed to this secret paradise with her pulse pounding, anticipating the briny smell and happy wriggles of her water-bound friend? How often had the blubbery creature nosed its snout lovingly into her waist, soaking many a pinafore with creek-water and happy strings of bubbly saliva?

Ziuta's heart twisted in her chest; but of course, by now Water Fly was no longer a lonely, mother-less water calf. In all the time the People of Looks Thrice had spent trying to keep Ziuta from her hidden garden, Water Fly would have slimmed, evolved, and grown, morphing into a virtual replica of the terrifying water serpents the Evening Folk so feared. Surely, the creek would be too big for such an animal...and if Water Fly ever did return to her old nesting grounds, the creature would be bound to be confused by Ziuta's presence.

Why, she may not even recognize me! She might even--

But no. Ziuta shook her head staunchly and tried to stifle a sob; she could not fathom the idea of her beloved friend turning on her.

A wet, sloshing sound caught Ziuta's attention. Swallowing her tears, she forced herself to lift her feet and take a few hesitant steps toward the creek bank to investigate the noise; as she drew closer, she could make out the lumpy shape of something blue-black that bobbed just below the surface. An unpleasant smell tickled Ziuta's nostrils.

What could that be...?

Approaching the edge of the creek, Ziuta knelt and shrugged Gormaq's cape onto the grass. It landed with a soft zwish as she knelt to pick up a shin-length bolberry branch that had been left askance on the creek bank. Using one hand to shove her sweaty, stringy lengths of cherry-tinted curls behind one ear, she used the other to grip the branch in a trembling fist and poked at the bobbing thing. It gave with a sickening squishhhh sound; undaunted, Ziuta jabbed again, gasping and jerking back when the tip of her branch punctured the strange object and snagged. Thick, gloopy sludge of a ghastly yellow color seeped from the small hole she had created. When a diminutive wave slapped the object against the bank once more, Ziuta thought she recognized a bloated, misshapen foot and dropped the branch. Her hands flew to her mouth while she stared in a state of horrified shock; this was no pile of torn rags.

It was a body.

"The- the missing boys!" Ziuta whispered with dismay. So this was where they had met their demise...and in the cool depths of Haven's Creek, no less. Could Water Fly have...

"No! I can't believe it! I won't believe it!" Ziuta cried, staggering backwards and pinwheeling her arms when the ball of her foot struck a round object in the grass behind her. She tried to right herself, but was too late-- she landed back-first on the matted floor of the clearing, knocking the back of her head painfully against the hard object which had caused her to lose her footing. For a while she simply lay there, sobbing and weeping inconsolable tears, until the eerie phantom of Amiechek's flabby face materialized before her eyes.