But killing any of the animals was not that easy. They sped along the branches and vanished among the leaves, aided by their clutching claws and agile tails. Arrows were fired, missed and retrieved. Ortnar had sharp words to say about their accuracy. Kerrick stood aside, watching the hunt when he could, but keeping more aware of the surrounding forest and any dangers that might be hidden there. In the end both boys had to climb the tree and hammer on the trunk with their bows. When a dark form scurried out along a branch Ortnar’s deadly spear made quick work of it. The impaled bansemnilla squealed once as it fell into the shrubs below, to be retrieved by the happily shouting boys. Kerrick admired the fatness of the still form while Ortnar muttered about the excess noise. In single file, the boys carrying the creature on a pole between them, they returned to the camp by the lake.

As they emerged from the trees, Ortnar stabbed his spear skywards in sharp warning. They stopped, frozen in their tracks. Moving air rustled the leaves above their heads and through this sound they heard a muffled cry.

“Armun!” Kerrick called out, brushing past Ortnar, running forward. She emerged from the tent, spear in one hand, her free arm wrapped protectively about the sobbing girl.

“What happened?”

“That thing, the marag, it came here, screaming and twisting, attacked us, I used my spear. Made it leave.”

“A marag? Where did it go?”

“Yours!” she shouted, anger pulling her face into a livid mask. “There by the shore. The things you allow to live close to us, that will kill us all . . .”

“Be silent. The males are no threat. Something is wrong. Stay here.”

When Kerrick ran across the grass to the shore Nadaske emerged from hiding, his arms clasped about his body, stumbling and swaying. There was foam on his lips and the tip of his tongue protruded from between his teeth.

“What is wrong?” Kerrick called out, then took him by the thick, hard flesh of his arms and shook him when there was no answer. “Where is Imehei? Imehei. Tell me.”

Kerrick felt the shudder pass through Nadaske’s body when he heard the name. The nictitating membrane slid away as he rolled a reddened eye towards Kerrick.

“Dead, worse, not known/end of life . . .”

His words were muttered, the motion of his limbs hesitant and slow. His crest flamed red and twisted in agony. It was a long time before Kerrick could understand what had happened. Only then did he let the distraught Yilanè slip down to the grass, turn away and walk back to face the others.

“Imehei may be dead, he doesn’t know for sure.”

“They murder each other, then attack me!” Armun screamed. “Now kill that thing, finish it.”