My mind gradually woke up, swimming upwards from a tangle of nightmares and finally breaking the surface as I cracked open one eye. Bright sunlight streamed down and I shut the eye again, stirring and checking limbs for damage. Funny, I couldn’t feel my legs, and it felt like some massive boulder was on my torso. I must have gotten banged up pretty badly, I mused. My shoulders ached, probably from using Tahos’ rod, and thinking of him brought me up short as I remembered how I’d passed out. But I couldn’t sit up; that boulder was becoming a real pain.

Wait. Boulder? My mind finally switched to ‘on’ and I forced my eyes to open, despite the dazzling sunlight. I felt my pupils spazz, and the first thing I saw was some massive grey construct on my stomach. Boulder…? I blinked, trying to focus, and heard this immeasurably deep hum above my head. I peered upwards as the sun was abruptly blocked out by another grey object, this one swinging down towards me from a height of almost three stories. My mind kicked into gear with what felt like a physical whirr, and I focused my eyes on the hundred-pound weight on my stomach. It was no boulder.

It was a paw.

Wide-eyed, I slowly, deliberately looked up at what was blocking out the sun. Intelligent, owl-round eyes blinked back at me curiously from above a broad, heavy muzzle. I gulped and eased my shoulders and head back to the soft, cool grass, turning my face slightly to the left to instead examine one of the beaded strands. A whuffling noise around my head drew my gaze back upwards, and I watched the velvet grey head inspect my trapped body. (If you’re wondering at my actions, well… I was scared out of my mind and didn’t really wanna deal with reality. I mean, you try waking up under a paw bigger than your dog and see how you react when the beast that it’s attached to sniffs you.)

After a moment of inspection, the creature drew back and with a rustle of shaggy fur, settled back onto his haunches, paw still lightly resting on my torso. The hundred pounds of weight was eased up slightly by the movement, and I could breathe a little easier. Blood rushed into my legs, giving me a horrible few seconds of intense pins-and-needles. Biting my lip, I peered upwards at the creature and finally identified it as a Trahe. (Knowing stats on a creature is a tad different than recognizing a real one, y’know?)

Trahes are sentient carnivores, like most everything on Lavana. This one seemed to be on the big end of the scale, probably twenty-five feet at the shoulder; his paw was a little over three feet wide. They’re Athian-shape… Athian being a broad category akin to feline, canine, equine, etc. A vaguely dinosaurian head, four long, well-muscled legs, a strong torso, a medium-length neck, and a powerful tail often ending in a scythe-shaped tailblade – that’s basic Athian shape. Anyways, Trahes range in height from fifteen feet up to the aforementioned twenty-five, being long-legged and simply massive beasts with soft, shaggy fur and a tailblade only on males. They have a nice set of sharp, jagged teeth and no visible ears, not to mention those paws have these gargantuan retractable claws.

The Trahe rumbled again, a beautifully smooth tone of deep bass. I looked to my right out of instinct and saw Tahos, unconscious but apparently healed. I blinked; Nila don’t heal that quickly. A soft exhalation sent waves of warm air over my face, and I stared up into the Trahe’s deeply golden eyes, no longer afraid. Despite numerous muscle-aches, I didn’t feel too bad, and wanted to stand up… but how was I going to get that across? Not all Lavanians know Kalash, but I tried it anyways.

“Botsa ze cha. My name is Shane. May I get up?”

The Trahe cocked his head (no female would ever be that big) and rumbled something unintelligible. I cautiously laid my hand against one of his four toes and pushed, just enough to let him feel pressure. Gently, he removed his paw and I sat up, looking at my absolutely filthy state with some dismay. Being coated in Heifia and Blood Cat gore is rarely a good thing. I felt blood caked not only on my shirt, jeans, and arms, but also crusting in my hair and some drying on my face as well. I smelled ripe even to my dull nose; I can only imagine how much I stank to the Trahe.

Now that I was officially awake, I could remember several things and thus question them. Such as… if the bad guys had won, why wasn’t I captured or dead? Where was my bookbag? If Tahos was here, why weren’t Fire and Mackalla? Were they healed somewhere too, or had they been captured? Killed? I shuddered to think of my two friends dead, but I knew it was a strong possibility. Where was Ana during all this anyways? And who was this Trahe? A good guy? I’d like to think so, remembering that roar I’d heard just as I passed out…

A mellifluous noise caught my attention and jerked me away from my thoughts, and I looked up quizzically at the Trahe. “Do you know Kalash?” A blank look was my only response and I groaned, before picking self-consciously at my blood-caked clothing. My mom would kill me if she saw me right now, I mused irrationally. Almost as though the Trahe caught my train of thought, he lowered his muzzle; I stopped myself from shrinking back only with sheer willpower. After all, I was sure he wasn’t going to hurt me… so why did I start shaking when his jaws opened to reveal two rows of massive, sharp teeth?

I cringed and shut my eyes, sure that I was about to become a snack – then felt a warm, rough tongue lick the side of my face. Had I dared to move, I probably would have raised an eyebrow. But I stayed still and got the most thorough grooming (the only grooming) of my life, and after the five minutes was over, I was as clean as one could expect to be after a bath of saliva and not shampoo. At least I didn’t smell like a rotting carcass anymore.

The Trahe leaned back on his haunches and grinned at me, curling his upper lip and dropping his jaw – a slightly frightening expression, but I was so accustomed to seeing it from Mackalla that it didn’t disturb me much. I folded my legs, much to the Athian’s amusement, and pointed exaggeratedly to myself. “Shane.” Well, you have to start somewhere when you want to communicate. Names are usually good.

The velvet grey male cocked his head, then raised his long tail and pressed the flat of his silver tailblade against his deep chest. “Za-shen-sai.” Contrary to his earlier ‘words’, his name was remarkably easy to pronounce. I inclined my torso in a shallow bow, then gestured vaguely about myself. “Human.” And I pointed to him with another vague wave, “Trahe.” He nodded his agreement – species and individual names tend to be translingual, spanning most languages on Lavana.

The audible growling of my stomach stopped my next thought from being spoken and I looked down stupidly, remembering that I’d not eaten since… well… I didn’t even know if I’d been knocked out for one day or five. So who knows when I’d last eaten. Peering at the sun skeptically, I did figure out that I must’ve been unconscious through the night, at least. A soft snore from Tahos startled me, and I looked over at the grey Nila with expectant eyes; but no, he just resettled himself into the grass without even waking up. Biting my lip to stop myself from laughing, I scanned the area – well, as much as I could see around the Trahe’s shaggy bulk.

We were in a meadow, pale blue beadgrass carpeting the rich soil and multi-colored flowers scattered amid the short grass. Fairly small trees formed a grove a little bit away on my left and in a circular line all the way behind me. Behind Za-shen-sai was a gleefully burbling stream, and on the other side of that were more trees. To my left, where the forest started, there were several bushes; I recognized a few as having edible fruit. And I really was starving.

Glancing at Tahos, I decided that he wasn’t in much danger and, cautiously, watching Za-shen-sai to see if movement upset him, I rose to my feet. He emitted another deep-bass rumble but didn’t move to stop me. Keeping an eye on him, I made my way over to the bushes; Za rose and followed me, surprisingly quiet for his size. On the way there, I saw my bookbag – tattered and slightly blood-stained, but very much intact. Mentally celebrating, I slung it on my back and crouched near the bushes. Huge berries, shaped almost like rounded pyramids, hung from the black stems among the scarlet leaves of the bush; they were that odd color I mentioned before, like someone took two orbs of light, one silver and one gold, merged them, and turned them into paint.

Recognizing the berries as edible nonetheless (gotta love foreknowledge of things), I picked one and tasted it cautiously, prepared for an awful bitterness or sickly sweetness… but instead found them crisp and refreshing, without a very strong taste but somewhat melon-like in texture. “Nummies,” I commented aloud, snagging several more and wolfing them down until my stomach stopped gurgling. I made a point to stuff myself, not knowing when I’d next have a chance to eat, before I rose, stretched, and wandered over to the stream. Za trailed me quietly, his beautiful gold eyes observing my every move. Looking into the foot-deep stream, the water so clear I could see every pebble on the bottom, I couldn’t spot any fish nor dangers.

Grinning to myself, I set my backpack on the grassy bank and kicked my poor, abused tennis shoes off, as well as my tattered socks. Peering at them, I mentally wished for Nila-made clothing – it’s much tougher than cotton and even denim – and stepped carefully into the stream. The water was wonderfully cold, and I did the best I could in the ways of washing up, lacking soap and towels, though I doubt I’d have gotten all the gore off had Za not cleaned me first. Pretty much ripping my hairtie from my tangled hair, I dunked my head in the stream and came up gasping, shaking off doggishly and forcing my matted curls back into a ponytail.

I clambered out of the stream, refreshed and ready for a new day. Tahos was waiting for me in a crouch on the bank, right next to Za as though they were best buds. I raised an eyebrow as I put my socks and shoes back on, “Can you talk to him?” Tahos shook his head silently, spreading open palms as he murmured, “I am weaponless, as are you. I suggest staying with him; he seems to like you. And you must tell me what happened. Where are Fire and Mackalla?”

I cringed as I came to stand next to him, Za settling to his haunches within a few feet of both of us. “First things first… his name is Za-shen-sai. What happened? We retreated from the first batch of Ajoitéi… then another batch ambushed us. We fought… well, considering, we fought pretty well. But we were overpowered. The last thing I remember was a crack across my skull and an unfamiliar roar… then I passed out. I don’t know where they are, or even where we are.” The Nila turned a thoughtfully expressionless gaze on the stream, rising with smooth suddenness and descending the slight bank to drink deeply. “There’re berries over there,” I mumbled, pointing towards the bushes. He nodded, giving me a look that clearly said he’d already eaten some.

Feeling stupidly awkward without Mackalla around, I folded my arms and looked up at Za-shen-sai, getting misty-eyed as I realized once more how incredible this all was. I was on Lavana… alive, nonetheless! And fairly safe. Now, if only Mackalla, Fire, and Ana would find us…

“DOWN!” Tahos’ shout didn’t really register until his leap carried him straight into me, knocking me flat, his clawed hand pressing my face against the warm earth. The metallic sound of gunshots rang out across the peaceful meadow, and I snarled into the dirt, rolling away from Tahos and staring across the stream. Sarge and Samson both stood there with their guns, Sarge firing away and Samson taking careful aim on Za-shen-sai. Feeling the urge to scream and thrash them both for being utter idiots, I instead rolled a little farther as Sarge’s aim skewed a bit. Tahos rolled the other way, and Sarge’s gun followed the Nila’s path.

“Hah! Not so tough without your big stick, are you, alien scum?!” I raised an eyebrow at the cheesiness before scrambling up the bank, fairly sure that Sarge had totally lost his marbles. To my surprise, Za wasn’t even perturbed – but then, how would a Trahe know what guns could do to a body? I twisted around to see Samson about to squeeze off a shot, right at Za’s head… I froze, stumbled but caught myself, and quite literally screamed out the words,

“STOP! HE’S SENTIENT!”

This didn’t stop Sarge from letting his ammo chase Tahos, but Samson froze, staring at me with a very unnerved gaze, his mouth forming a round ‘O’ of shock. I took this time to run the short distance separating me from Za and planted myself firmly in front of the massive beast, flinging my arms wide as though I, alone, could stop both men from killing him. (Ignore the fact that his head and even chest were higher than the top of my head – I was trying to be stupid and brave here!) Tahos was dodging well enough on his own, and he’d learned the danger of guns; I couldn’t let Za-shen-sai die because of a stupid human!

Abruptly, the steady noise of gunfire slowed and stopped; my eyes widened as Sarge stared at Samson… and then sharply cuffed the younger man across the back of the head. “Samson! Are you waiting for a written invitation? FIRE!” Samson shook his head and let his gun fall to his side; I peered at him and, to my amazement, saw tears streaking down his cheeks. I bit my lip and looked around for Tahos, but the Nila had disappeared into thin air. At least he hadn’t gotten shot this time. I swallowed hard as Sarge leveled his gun at me; steeling myself, I prepared to… well… die.

Tahos erupted from the brush behind Sarge and tackled him, claws ripping the fine military clothing to shreds and one blow sending the gun clattering into the stream. Samson flinched and backed away from the furious Nila, while Sarge managed to throw Tahos off his back and meet him head on to grapple. Not a very smart move on his part; Nila are stronger and faster than humans, not to mention they have fangs and claws. Tahos practically mauled the guy; Samson looked torn between helping and staring in utter shock at Za. I had to wonder if he realized that Tahos was sentient, too.

I almost requested Tahos not to kill Sarge, but I held my tongue when I remembered that Sarge had nearly killed not only the grey warrior, but Mackalla and Fire as well. Za-shen-sai lowered his muzzle and nudged me lightly, deep gold eyes questioning. I laid one hand on his soft fur and just shook my head, sighing. I couldn’t explain Sarge even if Za did know Kalash. I closed my eyes silently, then went rigid as I heard splashing. Spinning, I relaxed about a millimeter as Samson, unarmed, made his way towards us. Somehow, Sarge was still avoiding death by Nila fury on the opposite bank.

“It… he… he’s really… sentient? Self-aware? Like us?” Samson’s voice was incredulous and awed; I nodded, positioning myself between the Trahe and soldier. Completely unnecessary, but I was feeling extra-protective at that moment. The blond stopped, holding up empty hands and giving me a soulful, pitiful look. “I understand now,” he said quietly, eyes beseeching me to let him pass. I scowled for a moment, arms folded, before Za reached his muzzle over me and sniffed at Samson’s hair. I blinked and he flinched, but overall he reacted quite well to a beast twenty-five feet tall smelling him. Za exhaled strongly and withdrew his head, gently touching his muzzle to my shoulder as if to say I approve. I glared at Samson.

I heard Tahos snarl richly and looked beyond Samson to see the Nila fling Sarge into a tree, bristling bloody-clawed. I winced at the crack of flesh against rock-hard bark, but an actual growl from Za got my complete attention. I spun and watched as he rose and half-turned, eyes narrowing slightly. I caught sight of a tawny form loping towards us alongside an ebony beast and let out a wordless shout of glee, quickly followed by their names.

“Mackalla! Ana!”

I shot forward as they both halted several meters from Za, who was acting slightly defensive (or possessive, however you’d like to see it) of either his lands or those on it. To his credit, Mackalla didn’t flinch when I finally reached him and threw my arms about his neck, hugging him tightly. I heard Ana chuckling softly and, although I really did know better than to hug a Korat, I embraced her briefly, startled that she didn’t shove me away. “Where’s Fire?” I asked immediately, reluctantly removing myself from both coarse canine fur and sleek Koratian pelt.

Mackalla grinned at me. “He’s fine. Off doing some of his own work.”

Za rumbled in his chest, relaxing his sentinel-stance a little and settling to his haunches, his four-foot-long tailblade clinking softly against the ground. “So what happened when I got knocked out?” Mackalla shrugged and looked to Ana, whose muzzle creased in an almost gentle smile at me. I felt a little surprised to be getting such a kindly look from a Korat renowned for her prowess in battle.

“The Portal that brought you here was… difficult to control, and so it dropped you several leagues from me. Good thinking on the help cry – it helped me pinpoint your location, and warned me that you’d already found trouble. I collected a few local allies on my way; Za-shen-sai was one of the local Madreni who joined my run. As the battle commenced, I asked him to take you and Tahos to a safe place. Now that we’ve killed the rest of the enemy, here we are.”

I bobbed my head as I absorbed all of this, looking at Za with new gratitude. He hummed in his throat, amusement and affection intermingling in the deep sound. I grinned and returned my attention to Ana by asking, “So everything’s okay now, right?”

Mackalla answered for her with a snort, “Not quite, but for now we’re as safe as we’re going to get. Tahos,” he raised his voice to a half-shout, “Leave off with the poor cresh already! He’s thrashed.” I muffled my laughter, then noticed Samson half-hiding behind Za’s haunch. I narrowed my eyes slightly and turned my back, but Ana caught my look. She rose gracefully and padded towards the young man, who shrank back and accidently bumped against the Trahe’s shaggy self. He flinched and looked so panicked that I was guilt-tripped into calling, “She won’t eat you. Come over here.”

“Are you sure?” At least he didn’t stutter, I thought to myself as I nodded affirmation. Ana escorted him to us, Mackalla flattening his ears and Samson wincing. I folded my arms, still stubbornly refusing to like the guy. Keeping to Kalash, I muttered, “He’s one of the good guys now, I guess. His name is Samson.” Tahos joined us shortly, leaving a bloodied, unmoving, but still living Sarge on the other side of the stream. He scowled at Samson but said nothing, assuming his usual crouch at Mackalla’s side. Samson swallowed nervously, blue eyes darting from Lavanian to Lavanian, and to me occasionally. I wasn’t about to make this any easier for him, though.

An edged noise from Za-shen-sai drew both Heifian and Koratian gazes upwards, then the three silently moved to the middle of the meadow. I raised both eyebrows and shot Tahos a questioning gaze; he shrugged and simply watched. I kneeled next to him and did the same, only slightly annoyed when Samson crouched next to me.

The three arranged themselves in a triangle, Ana and Mackalla dwarfed by the huge Trahe. The deepest, most profound sound I’ve ever heard came from his slightly parted jaws in the form of a smooth hum. Mackalla joined in with a gorgeous tenor and Ana added a rich alto to the mix; combined, they produced a three-part symphony of single notes, drawn out and held steady without fluctuation. My eyes went wide at the soulful sound, then misty as often happens when I’m around beautiful music.

Ana led the way with her graceful voice, singing wordlessly from note to note, climbing into higher ranges before descending; Mackalla matched her with the opposite, falling into baritone as she ascended before he began to measure out higher notes as hers deepened. Za provided a steady background, occasionally fluctuating notes and dynamics with the effect of roiling thunder, or maybe a waterfall that learned to sing. This symphony went on for several minutes, during which not one of us watching made a peep, nor did we take their eyes from the three singers.

The end was almost painful, Za’s voice deepening even farther as Ana’s rose into soprano and Mackalla’s sank into baritone and then bass. All three held the same note, separated by several octaves, for about twenty seconds before cutting off at the exact same time. I let out a breath that I’d not realized I’d held and grinned broadly, brushing at my eyes before wondering how Lavanians applaud. (Hey, I don’t know everything.) But Tahos supplied me with the appropriate (or so I hoped) motion, thumping his chest with his fist appreciatively. I mimicked him, got a weird look, and just grinned at him. By now, he probably thought I was crazy, but apparently he didn’t care; he simply shook his head and looked back towards the three quadrupeds.

I took the opportunity to sneak a glance at Samson, who was, to my surprise, crying. Feeling vaguely responsible, I was about to say something consoling when Ana, Mackalla, and Za returned. The Trahe touched the soldier with his muzzle and Samson abruptly stopped, looking up with wet cheeks at the Athian and cautiously resting his hand on the end of Za’s muzzle. I scowled at Samson’s back without any real annoyance behind the expression and looked at Mackalla. “That was… beautiful.” He pawed at his face in apparent embarrassment, but Ana laughed softly. “Trahes have a custom of singing. Heifias do not.” I grinned and nodded my understanding, stretching. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

When I look back on that day, I swear it was that thought that jinxed it.

I sat down and scribbled the whole adventure so far into my notebook, bringing you up to date and figuring that when it was all over, I’d end up typing it up on my computer and editing it to make it pretty. Maybe I’d even show it to some of my ‘net friends, or my role-players. But until then, I’m going to hang with Mackalla and Ana, and see what life brings. After all, Lavana isn’t so bad when you have protectors… and friends.

After writing that, I stuffed my notebook back into my bookbag, dug up the rest of my food (which was kinda stale but still edible) and ate it, mostly through desire to taste something human than actual hunger. I pointed Samson in the direction of the berries, and he trusted me enough to eat them. Ana sprawled in the sun, Mackalla settled next to me, and Za kept watch – not that anything was going to invade his territory. What would be that stupid?

You know the answer to that, don’t you?

This time, I felt the danger before anyone else. My spine stiffened and I sat up straight, looking around with an alarmed expression. When I gave him a pointed look, Mackalla raised a furred brow and sniffed the wind but, with a shake of his head, indicated that he didn’t smell anything out of place. But that creepy, adrenaline-producing feeling was still buzzing at my nerves, so I stood up and looked around. Ana caught this and did the same, but she sank back down after deciding that nothing was amiss. So why was I so hyped up?

Samson eyeballed me like I was crazy. Za rumbled a soothing purr. I scowled at the first and sighed at the second, flopping back down and leaning against Mackalla. “So I’m nuts,” I muttered as, over the next several minutes, my little alarm didn’t bear fruit… but nor did it go away. “It’s just nerves. I don’t blame you.” Mackalla’s sympathy really didn’t help, and I tried to calm myself down, but by now adrenaline was in full force and inducing a fight-or-flight mental state. I was on a hair-trigger.

So when the deafening crack of what sounded like thunder beat against my ears, I was up and ready to go a sheer instant before even Ana was. A bright light blazed across the meadow, seemingly coming from all sides – it blinded us, and without sight nor hearing, how could we possibly fight back? Something sinewy wrapped around my throat and I thrashed wildly, but lack of oxygen soon forced me into limpness.

Again the blackness came for me, and this time I had no assurance that I would wake up.

You know how when some critical point is reached in a movie, like the hero’s girlfriend is falling off a bridge or something, time seems to slow? Well, it doesn’t do that, no matter how utterly shocked you are. No matter how much you wish those seconds turned into minutes so that you could save someone. Just tough luck in the real world, I guess.

Sarge had fired off a round at the unconscious Blood Cat’s head. Frozen with shock and fear, by the time I shook myself out of it, I had no way to do anything. (What was I gonna do, you wonder? Had I not been stunned, I probably would’ve tried to jump in front of the bullets. Yep. I never said I was sane, you know.) Tahos was pretty much crippled, having been shot in the hip, and he had no knives left to try and skew Sarge’s aim. Fire himself was still passed out cold, though healing. Sarge was wounded, sure, but his arms and eyes weren’t damaged in the least.

Are you waiting for me to announce that Fire dies, despite all my efforts to keep him alive after he saved me? If I were the reader, I’d be clutching the book and threatening to burn it if Fire died. But that’s just me. And anyways, if I were writing this like some sci-fi/fantasy story, things wouldn’t have gotten this bad in the first place. Mackalla, Ana, and I would have arrived in a tight little group, probably met up with Tahos just for the heck of it, and then stayed in one spot… possibly fighting off a few enemies but never taking any real injuries… until everything settled down and some hero got rid of the Ajoitéi Prince. But then, the real story is nothing like that.

The gun-shots rang out with an oddly brassy sound, and a scream burst from Sarge’s lips as a tawny form clamped powerful jaws around the man’s arm, skewing his aim at the last second so that the artillery passed over Fire’s body. I saw one bullet take a small chunk out of his ear; that’s how close it was. I sucked in a deep breath and darted to Fire, placing myself between him and Sarge, several meters distant. Suicidal, no, protective, yes. Streaks of blood marred Mackalla’s normally golden-brown pelt and I had to wonder how many fights he’d gotten in already. Tahos staggered upright, leaning heavily on his rod, and watched as Heifia and human played tug-of-war with the mini-Uzi.

“Ana?” I said into the air quietly, hoping devoutly that the black was nearby. My eyes narrowed at Samson’s rather shocked face as he tried to hold Sarge up (remember, he’d gotten a knife in the thigh) while trying to dodge heavy paw-swipes from Mackalla. Not that the Heifia had sharp claws, really, just a lot of power behind those blows. Tahos glanced discreetly at me and shook his head ever so slightly; I wondered if he knew her and decided that either way, he’d know if there was someone nearby. So we’d lost the Korat. Grrrreat.

I was still looking at Tahos when I heard the gun go off once. My heart stopped for the umpteenth time that day and I stared in horror at the fighters, seeing Mackalla’s right shoulder gush blood. A solid kick to the skull sent the Heifia staggering back and crumpling, and I fervently prayed that the bullet had missed his lung. From the look of it, his shoulder blade had to have been shattered, disabling his right foreleg. Tahos had wide eyes too, and he somehow used his rod as a crutch and lunged awkwardly at Sarge.

“Mackalla!” The belated cry escaped my lips and I, too, lunged, hitting my knees next to the panting canine and again becoming a human shield. Though I was really starting to doubt that Sarge would hesitate to shoot me. And by moving so, I left Fire open to attack; he was still unconscious. Thousands of thoughts seemed to tear through my head and leave me breathless as I watched Tahos wield his rod against Sarge’s swinging fists and randomly firing gun, the Nila somehow balancing on his good left leg and still not taking any serious hits. Samson, still supporting Sarge, seemed to be trying to pull the man away from Tahos’ bloodied grey form; maybe he’d noted the fangs and claws, or maybe he sensed that there was something drastically wrong with this picture. The guy seemed to have more morals than his commander, that’s for sure.

“This is ridiculous,” I heard Mackalla growl raspily behind me, “a Nila and a Heifia outdone by two… no, one… human with a single weapon.” Startled to find him still conscious, I half-spun on my knees just as he said, “And you shouldn’t be in this. Why aren’t you hiding?” An incredulous look passed over my face as I saw the Heifia struggling to sit up – maybe he wasn’t as bad off as I’d thought! – but I raised an eyebrow about the hiding bit. “I don’t hide, Mackalla,” I informed him, before laying a cautious hand against the wound. “Is it bad? Can you heal with a bullet in you?” His broad muzzle swung side-to-side in a negative, and I grimaced as he whispered, “You’re going to have to get it out of me.”

I swallowed my heart and with a nervous glance over my shoulder at Tahos, Sarge, and Samson, I probed the wound with my fingers as gently as possible, using my left hand since my right was covered in Blood Cat gore. “Shoulder blade?” I inquired, and a growl answered me, “Pocked but not fractured. The bullet’s nestled in it, I think.” I whistled a half-nervous, half-relieved tune as I felt the still-hot ball of metal. Trying not to cause any more damage to singed and torn nerves, I pinched the bullet between two fingers and pulled it out, tossing it to the ground in a slightly spastic motion. The Heifia nosed my chin, a silent thank-you, before he lay down and slipped into a very deep healing trance.

A loud curse rang out behind me and I turned again, head half-spinning but sheer willpower preventing me from panicking as I saw Tahos had lost his rod. Helpless and barely able to stand on one good leg, the Nila stared with wide gold eyes at Sarge, who had his gun pointed straight at him. I swear I felt my own pupils dilate at the sight and, without conscious thought, I found myself tackling Sarge, football-style. Due to momentum, or maybe anger-fueled strength, I did manage to knock him down and away from Samson. One strong kick on my part sent his gun skittering towards Tahos, who sank into a painful crouch and claimed it. Of course, that was all I managed as Sarge threw me off and into Samson, who of course grabbed me.

My eyes swept the little clearing-turned-battlefield; Tahos had the gun, Sarge was unarmed, Mackalla in trance and Fire still unconscious, the latter two healing nicely from their severe wounds. So really, we should be winning. Samson had me from behind so with a slightly wolfish grin, I stamped his foot and then back-kicked him right in the… well, you know. He howled and let me go; I spun and delivered a roundhouse to his head and a side-kick to his gut with some vengeance. He went down but was already getting up as I shot to Tahos’ side, his rod in my hand. We exchanged weapons and I leveled the heavy beast of a gun at Sarge and Samson, hoping that it worked like normal guns and all I had to do was pull the trigger. (Oh come on, I’d gone hunting with my dad before, but using military weapons is not one of my hobbies.)

For a split second as Sarge threw his arm around Samson’s neck, both of them scrambled up, and Tahos and I faced them, it was stalemate. Not much of a stalemate, more of a second’s thought of ‘oh, crap’ on their part and slightly vengeful grins on ours. My little morality-alert tickled my chest and informed me that I really couldn’t shoot either soldier, or at least not shoot to kill. I felt like handing the gun back to Tahos and showing him how to use it, but that went against my code of ethics too. (I’m sure you’re thinking I’m nuts, but especially after this fight, I kinda value life. I’m not big on killing people. If you were in my place, could you stare at Samson’s frightened and shocked face and Sarge’s stunned expression and pull the trigger, watching the bullets sink into their flesh and steal their lives? …I didn’t think so.)

“Tahos,” I said in Kalash, my eyes never leaving Sarge and Samson, “Do you know how to call a Portal? Or does Fire? I know Mackalla doesn’t.” The grey Nila didn’t glance at me either as he breathed, “No, I do not. Not many do.” I kept my expression neutral, though inside I was dying. We had to get these guys back to Earth, or otherwise they’d be killed whether by our hands or not. And Ana, the one who’d called the previous Portal, was nowhere to be seen.

Now totally unable to do anything that might end well, I glanced at Tahos out of the corner of my eye. He was wounded badly and again using his rod to support himself to stand. Nila, unlike most Lavanians, can’t slip into a healing trance without a lot of effort and training; my bet was, Tahos being young, that he couldn’t. But his clan had to be around here, seeing as he’d arrived so quickly once I yelled for help. But as I noticed a certain glaze over his silver-flecked golden eyes, I had to wonder if he wasn’t about to collapse. Mackalla was still deep in trance, probably about halfway done. Fire…

A throaty noise jerked my head around as the Blood Cat woke up, pulling himself upright with deliberate slowness and towering above the lot of us. Tahos later told me that he’d never saw eyes so big as Samson’s and Sarge’s were. I was scared and I was the one who saved the cat’s life! Though I wondered if he knew it at all. Baleful amber eyes blazed from a blackened red ‘mask’ across the Blood Cat’s ruddy fur; he rumbled again, before one nicked ear flicked and he turned swiftly. A shockingly loud roar erupted from his jaws as Tahos and I spun around as well, and in doing so I noticed Samson and Sarge running away as fast as possible, Sarge snatching Samson’s gun from the brush as they passed it but not stopping to shoot.

My eyes almost unfocused at the sheer closeness of a lime-hued beast’s torso and I scrambled backwards, as did Tahos. I stared up at the suddenly-familiar shape and fumbled for the trigger as Fire roared again. The Blood Cat darted forward, stunningly quick for his size, and with one powerful strike with his forepaw sent this new Ajoitéi skidding backwards. More Ajoitéi were coming up behind this one and I sidled in front of Tahos as I finally figured out how to work the stupid gun and fired off a few lame shots. “Aim!” I heard Mackalla cry as he leapt over my head and knocked the lime Ajoitéi’s head off… well, the upper half of its head. I tried to figure out how the aiming system worked and quickly gave up as the number of attackers doubled in seconds, instead just sending a spray of bullets out when I knew I wouldn’t hit Fire or Mackalla.

I sensed more than heard Tahos crouch behind me, ragged breathing informing me as well as words might that the Nila was finally succumbing to his wounds and blood loss. I just hoped he wouldn’t pass out. Mackalla sprang backwards as pincers sliced air instead of his flesh, his ears flat and lips curled high in a snarl. But the Ajoitéi just kept on coming, no more afraid of Fire than they were of the Heifia. My shots had crippled a few and knocked a few heads off, shattered a pincer here and there, but overall the gun was useless in my hands. I almost wished Sarge had stopped to shoot them.

“Too many!” I heard Mackalla cry, darting continuously out of the way. Fire was equally beset, and a thick snarl was his way of agreeing with the Heifia’s judgment. “I hate to say this,” Tahos projected his pained voice, “but retreat would be wise.” I watched, gun heavy and quiet in my hands, as Mackalla made his way back to us.

“And I hate to agree,” the canine grumbled, before he turned and whispered in a nearly-inaudible voice, “Fire, take the bipeds on your back. They can’t run.” I blinked, raising an eyebrow – I wasn’t injured! – before remembering that humans are slower than just about everything on Lavana. The Blood Cat’s nicked ear flicked backwards and he sent himself into battle with a mad intensity, actually scaring most of the Ajoitéi backwards for a short space.

Then he was back to us, and before I knew what I was doing I was helping Tahos onto the cat’s striped back, and then receiving a boost to get up there as well. Fire stood and I looked down the more-than-twelve feet to the blood-slick earth. I felt dizzy, but I tossed the gun away and took a handful of ruddy fur in one hand and a good hold on Tahos with the other; the Nila was becoming very shaky. Fire surged into motion and let me tell you, riding a giant cat is nothing like riding a horse. This coming from one who knows. But, having had a pony as a kid, I did know enough about how to stay on to do so, and to keep Tahos on with me. Barely.

We ran for a few long moments in silence, the Ajoitéi horde trailing us rather quickly for being bipeds. I spent the time chewing on my lip and staring over my shoulder, wondering if they’d catch up. Mackalla ran alongside Fire, and I was irrationally proud to note that neither had received new wounds. After a second, I realized Mackalla was talking, and quickly identified myself as the subject.

“Her name is Shane – human female, mature adolescent. ‘Case you haven’t noticed, humans have no biological weaponry whatsoever, so Ana and I are her protectors. Though I don’t know where Ana is right now. Tahos is a friend of mine; his clan is somewhere in this direction. Find it, and those Ajoitéi are going to have to fight through an angry bunch of Nila to get us.” Mackalla snorted a laugh and Fire echoed it in a raspy tone.

Then, I blinked as both predators abruptly skidded to a stop and froze, muzzles swinging side to side in high-alert arcs. I knew better than to ask what was going on, and by then Tahos had completely passed out; I had my hands full keeping his muscular frame from toppling off the Blood Cat’s back. I listened to the utter silence, spotting the birds hiding behind leaves with fluffed feathers. I felt like crawling into a safe and shutting the door, not knowing what was going to attack us next. Even in the company of a Blood Cat and a Non-Maned Heifia, I was scared.

Ajoitéi surged upwards, rich soil spraying like water as they clambered straight out of the earth. My eyes went round and I gripped Tahos tightly, feeling like a coward, since he was in front of me and it probably looked like I was hiding behind him. Mackalla and Fire snarled in unison, two very different voices blending into one massively bone-chilling noise. I shivered, both from the sound and from the massives of variously orange-tinted bipeds around us.

We fought well, considering we were outnumbered about twenty to one and only two of four could actually fight. The two hunters guarded Tahos and I in a little circle, and I guarded Tahos every time an Ajoitéi broke through. I didn’t know exactly how to use his rod, but with two sharp ends, it’s really not that difficult to learn. Either way, I was good enough to hold them off for the necessary split-second until Mackalla or Fire could save me. I felt utterly useless and really wished I had taken Critter’s morphing ring when I was able.

We did fight well. We really did. But it was only about five, maybe ten minutes at the most before Fire and Mackalla began to be overpowered. From there, it was only a few seconds before they targeted me. I defended myself with the rod as best as I could, standing over Tahos’ body, before a sharp crack across the back of my skull knocked me into the dirt.

As consciousness fled, I swear I heard a new voice roar like thunder…

Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-chee! Ch-chee! Bvvvvvvee! Bvvvvoo! Rere rere rere rere!

I opened my eyes stiffly, the shrieking calls of random beasts ringing in my ears. My head was pounding. Sunlight streamed down and blinded me for a long moment, before my eyes adjusted and I could see. And oh, the things I saw. Trees hundreds of feet high, with grey, black-fissued trunks dozens of feet thick, gnarled roots protruding above-ground before diving into the rich, nearly black soil. Pastel blue grass that looked like strings of bead waving in the warm breeze. Technicolor flowers with souped-up butterfly-things buzzing around them. Colors ranged from deep silver, royal purple, sapphire, and seagreen to goldenrod, bronze, tangerine, pearl, and all the way to what looked like a strange mix of silver light and gold light. Past a canopy of emerald and cerulean leaves I could barely make out a wisteria sky with a few rose-hued clouds drifting past. The orange sun was still dazzling in its brilliance, a good bit brighter than our sun.

I was on Lavana.

I shivered with excitement but also a healthy dollop of fear, remembering how many carnivores here could easily outsmart a human, not to mention overpower and outrun. Feeling a root digging into my shoulder blade as my body seemed to wake up, I tried to sit up… to no avail. I was apparently enmeshed in a network of matte-white vines, only about an inch thick but with the consistency of wire. Digging a fingernail into one had no effect, and as my fingers were still half-asleep with pins and needles stinging my nerves, I couldn’t quite get myself untied.

Caution banging on my head with a frying pan, I looked around, this time trying to spot any living creatures. I saw several brightly-hued birds, nonsentient ones. I saw several Eleis, alive, unlike the skeleton in my bookbag. Speaking of which… it took a moment, but I spotted my faithful pack a few feet away. And really, other than the very agitated and loud birds, and the silently watchful Eleis… there was nothing around. It was kinda creepy.

Noticing feeling had returned to my hands, I renewed my efforts to get myself out of this tangled mess. For some reason, the vines were woven very tightly, and despite having opposable thumbs, I couldn’t manage to get more than my right arm free. Abruptly, all the noise that was causing my headache stopped. Just like that. Silence. I froze, looking up warily at the birds, who were now fluffing their feathers and edging closer to tree trunks. A chill ran down my spine as I carefully twisted my body to lay my ear to the ground.

Footsteps. Or paw-steps, hoof-steps, whatever they might’ve been. It sounded like a four-legged beast, which was really no surprise, considering there are very few bipedal species on Lavana who can compete with quadrupedal hunters. Either way, I was probably in trouble. Praying that it was Mackalla or Ana, I feigned sleep, one eye slitted open just enough to watch around me.

Of course it wasn’t the Korat or Heifia. C’mon. I don’t have that much luck.

I inadvertantly twitched as the beast came into sight. Garishly orange skin was mottled with darker tones, and although it was a biped, it was using its exceedingly long arms to walk, almost like a gorilla. An oddly-shaped head, like an upside-down, rounded pyramid, was set atop a lower head-half that was thick and chunky, blending seamlessly into a squat neck and powerful shoulders. Long, muscular arms were humanoid, though in place of hands were crustacean pincers. Out of the ‘elbows’ sprouted smaller arms, once-jointed again before ending in sharper-edged pincers. A muscular torso slimmed into a narrow waist, which in turn branched out into a pair of short, thick legs ending in heavy hooves. Darkly red, globular eyes regarded me from a height of fourteen feet as the biped came to a stop, just as a name popped into my head – Ajoitéi.

So this is an Ajoitéi. This is what wants me so badly that they’ll give a morphing ring to a Vemeh and send him to Earth to get me. Great.

I tried my best not to move, but a shiver raced down my spine and both eyes flew open at the surprisingly strong sensation. A gnashing mouth opened in the lower half of its head, just below the ‘bridge’ of what I suspected was bone that connected its upper, eye-holding half to the squat, toothy lower half. It was creepy, to say the least. But it was even worse when it actually spoke, in an oily, repulsive voice. “Oooh. What is a little human doing on Lavana?” It laughed, or so I assume – it sounded like it had a hairball. “Ah, my good fortune to find you first, girl-child… as I’m very hungry.”

And I’m disgusted, I thought to myself, though panic was beginning to hit. I was tangled up in this nest of dark white vines, I couldn’t even get up, let alone run, and I was completely without the two Lavanians who were supposed to be guarding me. My head was pounding as fast and as hard as my heart at this point, and it actually hurt to think. Nonetheless, think I did. There was a certain alarm call, a one-word scream really, that would bring help if help was around. At the very least, it’d let Mackalla or Ana know where I was, if they were within earshot.

Struggling against the vines almost instinctively, I screamed the help-call as the Ajoitéi advanced, closing the several meters of distance between us. Another hacked-up hairball laugh came from the mottled biped, who reached a heavy pincer towards my throat as it towered over me. My eyes went wide and I shrank back, but there was no escape–

Or so I thought. When the crab-like hand was inches from my throat, a roar reverberated through the trees and a flash of vivid red-orange collided with the Ajoitéi and sent the biped skidding a ways in the dirt. As the blur of dark-striped color landed and pointedly stepped between the Ajoitéi and me, I finally got a good look at the creature. And nearly passed out.

It was an Blood Cat. They’re very large (up to seventeen feet at the shoulder), leanly-built felines with red-shaded fur and darker stripes, not to mention extra-long fangs and claws. This particular one was small, about twelve feet high, and had a gorgeous fiery red pelt with blackened red stripes, as well as the baleful golden eyes that all Blood Cats have. But it really wasn’t the shape that shocked me so. Blood Cats are not known for being overly kind and helpful; they’re not evil by any stretch of imagination, but they tend towards solitude and don’t often go out of their way to do a good deed. Their reputation as ‘demon-cats’ isn’t really deserved, but it’s closer than a label of ‘angelic being’ would be.

Either way, I was surprised that one would help me. And eternally grateful, as I watched the Ajoitéi stagger up and gnash its teeth in annoyance. “Leave the human-child to me, beast of the fiery tempest,” it hissed as it advanced menacingly. I winced, still trying valiantly (and vainly) to escape from the imprisoning vines. Just my luck for a Portal to fling me into such a mess. I looked up again as the Blood Cat shook its massive head, curling its lips high and snarling.

“I think not, scumspine. Get out of my sight before I rip you apart.” To my irrational delight, the Blood Cat spoke Kalash far better than the biped. The Ajoitéi made some sort of vampiric snarling noise, and that was all that was needed to provoke the Blood Cat into battle. My eyes were round and my jaw slack as I watched the very agile and shockingly powerful feline thrash the Ajoitéi, who fought back as well as it could but… well, it was completely outclassed. A few minor wounds scarred the cat’s striped pelt, but for the most part, it was mottled flesh that was laid open by jagged black claws.

I was absorbed in the fight, and it was noisy enough to block out small sounds; I didn’t have any warning nor premonition when a grey creature suddenly appeared over me. I jerked in surprise, staring at this new beast with fear that quickly faded as I identified the rather humanoid creature – a Nila. Of course, when a crudely made spear was pointed at my heart, the fear returned quickly enough, along with a small fact that floated into my thoughts: Nila love sacrificing other creatures. It’s an eccentricity, really; other than that flaw, Nila are honest and brave warriors, one of the few bipeds to thrive on Lavana. They live in clans, much like Native Americans once did, and they’ve a tribal society as well. They resemble cats in the same way that we resemble apes, and I suppose you could call a Nila – despite the thick, short tail that isn’t catlike in the least – something like an anthropomorphic feline.

Anyways, there was a spear pointed at my chest and the Blood Cat was still tangling with the Ajoitéi. Needless to say… I was freaked. I stared up at the Nila, who returned the gaze with intensely golden eyes. He must be a young adult, I decided randomly, since he still had his adolescent mane – wavy black ‘hair’ that tumbled just past his shoulders. The spear waved, a few inches above my head, before the Nila abruptly sank into a crouch, laid the spear aside, and unsheathed a Nila-style knife, which look like miniature spears. I watched in surprise as he began sawing through the hardy vines.

“My name is Tahos,” he whispered in Kalash as he worked, “a friend of Mackalla. He told me through howl that a human was nearby. The Blood Cat is called Fire Eater. He has known Mackalla for ages, or so I am told.” Tahos had a slightly breathy accent, and it was rather… interesting… to understand some of the words that he chopped up with said dialect. “So Mackalla is near here?” I whispered in Kalash, excitement tainting my tone. Tahos nodded his head, black mane bobbing around his leather headband.

Just then, a shocked and pained roar shook my very bones, and I looked up in horror as the Ajoitéi tore its pincer out from deep within the Blood Cat’s flank. The big cat staggered but through braced legs stayed upright. Tahos growled near my ear but continued cutting through the mess of vines, obviously more intent on freeing me than helping the Blood Cat. And as I watched, I learned why. The striped feline snarled fluidly, reaching out one paw and with one strong blow knocking the upper half of the Ajoitéi’s head off. My eyes went wide, then even wider as the Ajoitéi apparently wasn’t killed and continued fighting blindly.

Tahos’ voice caught my attention. “Ajoitéi are hard to kill. Their spines are protected by lots of muscle, and the tops of their heads do not contain their brains. The Evil was merely blinded. But Fire will now win.” I sat up as the Nila shifted position, now sawing at the vines that bound my legs. And indeed, the great cat swiftly maimed and then delivered a killing blow to the wounded biped, whose carcass crashed to the ground. Tahos’ little knife cut the last restraint and I stood shakily, blood rushing to my head at the sudden change in altitude. The Nila also stood, picking up his spear, which I now saw was in fact a rod, a thick staff with both ends tipped in heavy, sharp metal ‘arrowheads’. A favorite amongst Nila warriors.

Fire panted heavily, blood spewing from the gaping hole in his flank. His black-tipped tail brushed the ground and I bit my lip, seeing how badly he’d been wounded during the last half of the fight. It was amazing that he could stand, and after a moment even that miracle failed him; he crumpled to the ground and rolled onto his uninjured flank, eyelids falling shut and breathing ragged. I turned to Tahos, “Do you have any healers?” The Nila looked thoughtful; ‘healers’, a small pinecone-sized nut native to Lavana, can painfully boost a creature’s healing and immune system until the beast is perfectly healed.

After a moment, Tahos shook his head. “I have none, nor are there any growing nearby.”

Then the Nila’s little pointed ears flicked, and he stared across the Blood Cat into the forest. “Creatures are coming. I know not what.” I looked where he did, saw nothing, and decided that we were in big trouble if it was another Ajoitéi. I moved forward, away from those vines and towards the Blood Cat, knowing full well he could kill me, even as wounded as he was. Then, I practically growled when two very familiar figures emerged from the foliage nearby, still well-armed. Sarge and one of the troops, the one who looked closest to my age with sandy brown hair.

Sarge pointed his gun straight at me, fish-eyed and looking half-mad. I flinched, before grinning devilishly. In Kalash, I said over my shoulder, “Tahos? These two are the bad guys. They want Mackalla and me dead.” Okay, so maybe I was exaggerating a little. But they did want Mackalla dead. And the way Sarge was looking, he didn’t seem above killing me at the moment.

Tahos laughed and I peered at him, somewhat surprised. “Just because my Kalash is rusty does not mean I am stupid. I realize this.” I flushed, reminding myself that Nila are just as intelligent as humans. And Tahos moved, rocketing into the trees with rod in hand and racing along a limb to drop down behind the two. The troop panicked, backing away and letting out a surprised shout as Tahos knocked his gun away and skidding into the underbrush. Sarge, however, was not so easily unnerved and fired several shots. A few were close misses, tracing thin lines of red on Tahos’ grey pelt, but the Nila was agile and dodged quickly, drawing and throwing a knife, which Sarge in turn avoided.

“Samson! You idiot, get your gun!” Sarge’s harsh voice seemed to kick the soldier into action, and he darted for his fallen weapon. A handily timed thrust with the rod tripped him and sent him sprawling, face-first. I bit back a laugh, but then labored breathing caught my attention.

The Blood Cat was barely conscious, judging by his glazed, half-open eyes, and his chest was heaving ineffectually. Bloody jaws gaping and tongue lolling, by all accounts he was in bad shape, if such conditions could be compared to Earth animal symptoms. I sidled forward cautiously and made my way to his flank, gently resting one hand on the cat’s soft, blood-slick fur. Something was wrong; I could feel it. Fearing dismemberment, nonetheless I stretched my other hand out in front of the Blood Cat’s jaws – and could feel very little breath, despite the heaving chest. I flinched and tried to think back to what my mom had taught me about animal injuries, back when she was still working as a veterinarian.

My eyes widened as a thought occurred to me, and I skittered back and peered into the massive hole in his flank. Running my fingers along the fur around it, I could feel ribs, and knew that the Ajoitéi’s blow must have been stopped by the cat’s ribcage. Good. But then why…? Could a lung have been injured anyway? Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out if there was something in there, and I really, really didn’t want to do that. However, a raspy, desperate wheeze from the Blood Cat decided for me, and I took a deep breath to steady my nerves.

Heart in my throat, with a background of gunfire and near-silent flung knives, I reached my hand into the gaping wound. Apparently, Fire Eater was already in too much pain to register what more I may have caused; he didn’t react violently. I carefully felt around, following the smooth length of the rib downwards until… It must have broken in half. A splintered end was the end of the road, so to speak, and then the situation cleared up in my mind. The other half of the rib must be disabling the lung in some way. And if I didn’t remove it, the lung might actually be penetrated… if it wasn’t already.

I swallowed hard. A terse grunt from Tahos told me that one of those bullets had found a good mark. What was I thinking, telling a knife-wielding Nila to take on two guys with massive automatic rifles? Gritting my teeth, I tried to ignore the fight going on behind me and concentrated on finding the other half of the broken rib. A splinter of bone lodged in my finger, painfully informing me said half’s location – vertical, the blunt edge pressing hard on the Blood Cat’s lung. I carefully felt along the rib and, getting as much a grip I could with blood and gore lubricating the whole affair, I pulled the broken half out.

Immediately, Fire’s breathing was deeper, though no less violent. Fresh blood began spraying out, soaking my Save the Rainforest T-shirt and splashing my face. I flinched and backed up, gory bone still in my hand and my arm doused in vivid scarlet blood to my elbow. I felt vaguely nauseated. Trying not to lose what little food I’d eaten recently, I noticed that Fire’s healing systems were acting again to quell blood loss and stitch up the wound, so I turned to look for Tahos and Sarge.

Sarge had a knife sticking out of his left thigh, supported by an unarmed Samson while firing madly at Tahos, who was bloodied with near-misses and one or two direct hits, those in his tail and clipping his left shoulder. I felt staggered by the total weirdness of it all, before giving myself a good shake and trying to focus. My headache was finally gone, luckily. As I wondered what I could actually do to help, Sarge squeezed off a good shot and nailed Tahos in his right hip. The Nila fell into a pained crouch, gripping his rod tightly to help him balance.

And then, with a maniacal grin, Sarge turned, aimed, and let off a round of shots straight at the wounded Blood Cat’s head.

Mackalla and I continued walking in the tunnel, silent since I couldn’t think of any more questions off-hand. After several minutes had passed, I stopped, hand to my stomach as it rumbled audibly. Mackalla shot me a surprised look as he halted as well. “Eh-heh,” I flushed slightly, “so I’m hungry. Gimme a minute. I have some snacks in my backpack. I was headed to the library before you intercepted me, after all, to do some research.” The Heifia rolled his dark eyes but settled to his haunches, and I plopped myself against the smooth but cold tunnel wall.

“What were you researching?” Mackalla asked idly as I dug through my backpack, shuffling several empty notebooks, art supplies, and a calculator. “Hmm? Oh… I was going to try to draw an accurate map of Lavana, and I wanted some good examples. Hence all this junk. I had nothing better to do. Ahh, food.” I held up an apple triumphantly, along with a brown paper bag containing the rest of my little lunch. “Want some?” I cocked my head at Mackalla, who declined. “Fiiine, be that way,” I mumbled, grinning, and proceeded to wolf down an apple and some crackers.

I glanced at one of my notebooks as I was returning the rest of my food to my bookbag. “Know what? You’re gonna hafta sit still a few more minutes. I want to write all this down.” The Heifia blinked, but with a shrug he let me do as I wished and lay down. So I scribbled the events of the day down, up till the present, and with a grin, flourished the last few sentences. I wonder… if anyone ever reads this notebook, they’ll just think it one of my stories. I hope. I’ll write again, as soon as possible, but until then… bwahaha. Carry on.

I finished writing and stuffed my notebook and pen back into my bookbag, tossing it over my shoulder and rising. Mackalla yawned, stretched, and we resumed our stroll through the tunnel. After a long time, we finally found another fork. This time, even I could tell that the right-hand path sloped upwards. So we took that tunnel, and after another twenty minutes brisk pace, the tunnel opened into a hillside. It was covered in foliage, brambles, and vinery, but to my surprise, there wasn’t an actual door.

Mackalla pushed through and stepped into the evening light, casting a wary glance around before beckoning me forward. I batted my way through thorny plants and started plucking those little weed-burrs from my legs as Mackalla grumbled something in Heifian at his wrist. Judging by his tone, he was already in a heated debate. As I tried to shake the rest of the clingy plantlife from my jeans, I heard a low noise. I looked up just in time to see Critter lunging in a flying tackle for me, still in human form.

I was knocked sprawling, sliding into Mackalla. Critter landed easily in a crouch and drew a sword. Great, he got a new one, I muttered to myself, and managed to unsheath the one strapped to me as I scrambled up, mimicking his stance and grasping the hilt tightly. Wish I knew how to use this baby. Mackalla snarled thickly and, apparently leaving the luminous comband on, lunged for Critter. A swipe with the sword nearly took his head off, but Heifias are quick beasts and he dodged, dancing nimbly out of the blade’s range.

I felt a weird… sensation… push at the back of my skull, and I threw a quick glance behind me. Nothing but nice, quiet forest. Well, if you ignored Mackalla’s thunderous growling. But the wind picked up a little and I smelled spices. Both Critter and Mackalla were suddenly wary, and not so much of each other. “Mackalla…?” I whispered, now officially freaked out. He stopped growling long enough to mutter, “Portal.” I winced and felt that little nudge again, this time turning around to face it. What looked like heat waves hovered above the ground in a contained, upright oval.

Abruptly, the Portal erupted into existance, bright waves of iridescent colors swirling counterclockwise with the solidity of fire. Sudden gale-force winds of alternating heat and cold buffeted me, and I dropped the sword in my startlement as the spicy smell intensified enough to make me sneeze several times, though there was also a touch of flowers in the scent. I narrowed my eyes against the whipping winds and tensed my arms in front of me defensively, but I was actually shoved backwards a few inches by the sheer force of the wind.

The very center of the whirling Portal seemed to darken, like water does when a creature rises towards the surface. At least I had the sense to dodge behind Mackalla so that when the black beast shot out of the blazing entity, it didn’t collide with me. Critter snarled liquidly, despite his current human form, and ducked behind a few trees. I guessed that he was going to morph to his Vemeh form, and an extra growl from Mackalla seemed to support my little theory. But my eyes were drawn to the black creature as it turned to face me.

It was a Korat. A female, by my judgment. Standing proud at four and a half feet at the shoulder, she had glossy ebony fur, matte black claws, and a whitely silver blade protruding from the tip of her tail – rare for females, standard for males. She had gorgeous, almost glowing sapphire eyes as well. Oh, wait. That’s right. You-the-reader don’t know what a Korat is, do you? Oops. Let me explain. Nevermind, that’ll take too long. Let me sum up. (Why yes, I do love the Princess Bride.)

Quadrupeds, Korats have a canine head with shark-like teeth and a long muscular neck that they hold compressed in an S-curve so tight that it looks like their necks are jointed. They’re deep-chested and narrow-waisted with a ribwall as opposed to our ribcage. Their forelegs are fairly slender and end in small V-shaped palms and two long, retractably clawed ‘fingers’. Their hind legs are much more muscular than their fore and end in a Velociraptor-style paw: two long digits much like their forefingers on the outside and a scythe-like claw held off the ground by their innermost toe. Korats also have long, muscular tails that differ with gender: males’ are more slender with a curving tailblade branching off near the tip, while females have thicker, shorter tails that pack a wallop and can occasionally end in a blade as well. Korats come in three breeds – a slender, fast tan; a stocky, muscular red; and a toned, graceful black. They’re socially and mentally complex creatures, just as intelligent as humans, if not more so.

“Ana!” Mackalla’s exclamation brought me out of my blatant admiration of the Korat; they are my favorite species, after all! The blue-eyed female grinned, displaying sharp ivory fangs, “Botsa, Mackalla.” My jaw hit the floor after her name sunk into my brain; Ana is one of the three Korat Originals!

Ach, I’m going to hit pause on the action yet again and explain something to you. Lavanians did not evolve. They, and the Tri-System in which they live, were Created by, well, Creators, a highly advanced alien race. The method of Creation for species is interesting, to say the least: an Original, be it male or female, will be made (as an adult) and watched for a little bit to see if the species will thrive on Lavana. If the Original (who is given full knowlede of what’s going on) passes the test, then his/her ‘shadow’ is stolen and broken to make the First Fifty, a group of fifty full adults of both genders. These First Fifty have very long lifetimes, often five or six times that of a normal individual, and the Original will never die of old age. They CAN be killed, though, don’t get me wrong here. The First Fifty are responsible for propagating the species, as their genes change constantly, thus giving them a huge gene-pool from the start. The Original will also take a mate and thus start his/her Line; those individuals directly descended from the Original are known as Of the Line.

But Korats are unique in that they have more than one Original. See, Creators aren’t really the brightest stars in the sky. They have their faults, despite being so advanced. So a Creator decided one day to make an ‘average’ Lavanian, and made a tan female by the name of Kaili. It was displeased with her and idly sent something to kill her while trying again; however, Kaili had magic at her command, a rare thing for any Lavanian, and lived on. The second try was black Ana, who was Created as a cub — which she wasn’t supposed to be in the first place. The Creator was annoyed again and smashed her with a tree; despite this, Ana lived (with the help of an ambassador’s healing skills) and grew to full adulthood. The third try seemed to be the charm and resulted in Redwood, a red warrior-female of incredible prowess. Redwood, however, demanded that the Creator take the shadows of her sisters as well to Create the First Fifty, and the Creator complied; thus Korats have the three breeds, though the races can interbreed and have mixed-color litters.

The point I’m trying to drill into your skull here is that Ana is an Original and she’s right here staring at me.

…can I drop dead now?

Mackalla tossed his muzzle at me, “This is Shane. The one.” I felt weak-kneed but managed to bow to Ana, who blinked once and seemed to be amused by my awe for her. Me, I tried not to fall over. I mean, it’d be like being in the presence of Alexander the Great, Cleopatra, or any other famous person out of history whom you thought you’d never meet. Only… for me, this was far more incredible.

A roar from behind me made me flinch, but I recognized Critter’s voice and wasn’t overly worried; a Heifia like Mackalla may have had trouble with a Vemeh, but there was no way that a Korat would even be challenged. ‘Average Lavanian’ my eye. Korats are some of the best warriors out there.

Ana’s sleek muzzle angled upwards as Critter’s grey bulk descended from a high leap towards her. Utter calm was plain on her face, and just before his heavy talons could lay open her pelt, she darted backwards and struck at him with her tailblade, leaving a deep gash in his left shoulder. Critter grunted and retaliated, claws raking at her head, but the Korat ducked easily and her tailblade scored another long rip in his flank. Ana laughed under her breath, before half-turning so that her flank faced the Vemeh; she kicked out, the longclaw so much like a raptor’s digging into her opponent’s chest and sending him sprawling on his back with the force of her blow.

Mackalla rumbled in his throat, half-approving and half… something else. Jealous? No… not quite. I eyeballed him but he deliberately ignored me, his dark brown eyes focused on the fight. Ana took a step forward and struck with her tail for a third time, the flat of the scythe-shaped blade connecting with Critter’s skull and knocking him unconscious, unable to morph and heal his severe wounds. I cringed slightly, but Ana’s next words stunned me even more than her apparent unconcern for the morpher’s life:

“The Ajoitéi Prince wants her, Mackalla. He wants what she knows. She is not safe on Earth any longer.”

“Ana. What is the Ajoitéi Prince? I’ve never heard of him.”

“A powerful individual of his race. He commands several packs of warriors -he calls them armies- and has declared himself an enemy of Lavana.”

My eyes grew wide, but Mackalla seemed to take it all in stride. “Can he actually muster the strength to harm us?”

Ana shook her head, grinning slightly, “Not without what she knows. We’ve discovered several bipedal species living underground. Someone has amassed a lot of power there, but it isn’t the Prince. Rumors are flying of a more powerful enemy, one that may command all the armies of all the races down there.”

“Someone that could actually do some damage, then. Ana, humans can’t survive Lavana. You know that.” I seconded Mackalla’s protest with a sharp nod; I knew Lavana well, and I knew that humans weren’t built for such a world. I’d be killed within an hour of arriving there.

The black’s fanged grin deepened. “That’s what we’re for, my friend. We get to play bodyguard until our friends from the nightcircle figure out what we’re going to do with her.”

I raised an eyebrow at this. Not all Lavanians were noble and kind; many would want me dead and the threat therefore simply eliminated. Mackalla apparently realized this as well, but a wave of Ana’s bloody tailblade halted comment. “She’s under our protection, Mackalla. For now, she’s as safe as she’s going to be. And anyways, she might know something about our enemy that we can use.” I raised my other eyebrow in silent denial, but was ignored by both Korat and Heifia.

Ana slipped from Kalash into her native tongue just then, so I pretended that I didn’t understand that either and looked at Critter. He was bleeding his life out into the earth, and I felt sorry for him. Dying for a lord that probably didn’t care about one lone morpher. I frowned, idly toying with the alternating ideas of taking his morphing ring or kicking him awake so that he could morph to human and therefore be healed. Mackalla was talking in Heifian to boot, and though I knew both languages – somehow, don’t ask me how I could understand such guttural words – I ignored them for the time being.

“Shane.” I looked to Mackalla quizzically, and he gestured with his muzzle towards where the Portal had been. “Looks like you get to go to Lavana after all, kid.” I narrowed my eyes, about to protest, when Ana stopped grooming her tailblade clean and perked her ears. “Humans coming,” she muttered in Kalash, curling her lip. Mackalla sniffed the wind and nodded to me, “The ones from before.” Then to Ana, “We’ve got to leave now, before they see us.”

The black twisted her muzzle in a half-shrug and waved her blade at Mackalla in an irate gesture. “They’re going to see us as it is. I just hope they don’t get sucked in with us. Portals have not been very tame of late.” I winced at the thought of being lost in-between one place and another, within a feral Portal. Ana narrowed her bright blue eyes and focused on the place where the Portal had been, sharp claws gripping the earth and blade unnervingly still. Heat waves rippled up into an oval shape again – the prelude to a full-blown Portal’s arrival.

However, loud barking raced up a lot quicker than that Portal did. Several police dogs sprinted for us as Sarge and Co. erupted from the brush nearby, guns held at ready. Ana ignored them, her mind concentrating on summoning the Portal, so Mackalla was left to fight half a dozen well-trained German Shepherds. I picked up my sword from where I’d dropped it and held it at ready, just in case one of the dogs decided that I looked like an easy target.

Ferocious snarling ensued as Mackalla dispatched the dogs one by one, not without a few bite-marks marring his own tawny hide. Sarge gestured wildly for his men to stay back, his behemoth of a gun aiming first at Ana, then Mackalla, then me, and back to Ana. Mackalla might be taken for a dog, but there’s nothing on Earth like a Korat. A gurgling noise behind me and to my left caught my attention, and with a jump I swung to face Critter. He was finally waking up, choking on his own blood and trying to move. “Kill him,” came Ana’s firm voice in Kalash; clearly she didn’t give mercy to the enemy. I lowered the tip of my sword to point at Critter’s throat, but his black eyes caught mine and I couldn’t.

Glancing over at Ana, I wondered if she knew English, but with a mental shrug decided I didn’t care. “Morph to human. Give me your ring, and then I’ll let you live,” I hissed at Critter, glaring daggers when he didn’t move for a long second. His wounds were fatal, though. And his sword wasn’t within reach, so I knew I would have the upper hand when he did shift to human. Grey pelt rippled and tightened to human skin as his body warped in that peculiar, reasonably painless process of shapeshifting. I heard Mackalla finish off the last dog (not without some sadness; I love all animals) as Critter’s body was finally human.

“Gimme the ring, Critter,” I hissed. He raised one eyebrow and pulled the silver band off his finger, holding it up. “This?” he murmured mockingly, a smirk beginning to tug at his lips. I snapped quietly, “That is your ticket to life, bucko. Don’t push me. I’ll give you to those idiots over there.” Speaking of which, Sarge and Co. were babbling loudly about the whole morphing process, guns being waved every which way as they pointed excitedly. Some military unit.

Critter laughed quietly and let the morphing ring fall into the palm of his hand. I wondered what was up until I felt a sudden and powerful wind slide me a few inches forward. The Portal! Critter took advantage of my distraction and kicked the sword out of my hands, leaping up and lunging for me. A gun went off, the bullet ricocheting through the brush and down the tunnel, echoing as it went and scaring Critter enough that he changed course and didn’t quite hit me. I jumped back as it was, bumping against Mackalla’s panting form. “C’mon,” the Heifia rumbled, bloodied jaws brushing my arm and closing around my much-abused belt.

More gunfire rang out as I saw Ana brace herself against the Portal’s violent winds. “Hurry…!” she urged us. But Mackalla and I were still several yards away from the swirling entity when it expanded, enveloping all of us – Mackalla, Ana, me, Critter, and Sarge and Co. – in brilliant neon light.

And then there was nothingness.

I stared around me, eyes bugging and jaw slack. Tumbled bones and decomposing bodies were scattered in loose piles. Coughing, I wrinkled my nose; the stench was beginning to overwhelm me. Mackalla’s voice rang through my now-fading headache, “Shane! Are you unharmed?” I nodded, then spotted an interesting little set of bones. It looked like it belonged to a foot-long lizard, with a strange skull. “An Elei,” I mumbled, then raised my voice, “Hey Mackalla! Why would there be an Elei skeleton in here?” The Heifia shrugged by tilting his muzzle when I glanced up at him. I scooped up the thankfully dry bones and tossed them into a smaller pocket in my bookbag.

A vicious snarl startled me, and I looked upwards in surprise. Mackalla was bristling, large ears flattened to his skull. “Erm… Mackalla?” He didn’t answer, didn’t stop growling either, so I waited, thumbs hooked around my belt loops, and tried to ignore the smell. After a moment, he abruptly fell silent, cocking his head in a look of startlement. “It’s gone,” he said finally, casting a glance down at me.

“What is?”

He shrugged, then lightly jumped down into the pit. “Some grey creature.” My ears practically perked, “Describe it?” Mackalla growled a chuckle under his breath, then tossed his muzzle. “Hang on.” I blinked, confused, then swallowed a yelp as the Heifia clamped his jaws around my belt and leaped for the tunnel. I threw my arms around his neck and tried to think light, but Mackalla got us both to the correct side without much trouble. I was impressed… until I was dropped with a resounding thud.

“Uhm, OW–” I cut off as I heard a hacking snarl, and turned to see what Mackalla was growling at. So that was the grey creature. Standing at five feet with a grizzly’s head, a burly, loose-skinned frame, and dragon-like talons, it was plain to me what it was — a Vemeh. The quadrupedal predator scraped its wickedly curving claws across the tunnel’s stone floor, hunkered down, and sprang for us.

Instinct forced me to roll to the side, and Mackalla took the charge head-on. Jaws clashed and as I came up in a crouch, my eyes widened. Considering that the Vemeh was larger, heavier, stronger, and had full use of its talons, Mackalla was certainly holding his own in the blood-curdling melee that followed. Teeth ripped through hide, fur was torn away in chunks, claws shredded flesh, and blood spewed across the tunnel as the grey and tawny forms grappled.

I watched, ready to dodge should one of them be flung my way, but otherwise all too aware that I was incapable of helping. Chewing my lip, I watched and noted the slightly different hues of blood; Mackalla’s blood was a lush scarlet, while the Vemeh’s was more maroon. There was far more maroon splashed on the floor and walls than scarlet, much to my relief. After a good five minutes of all-out warring, the Vemeh shoved Mackalla away, and they both collapsed. I leaned forward, trying to see how badly Mackalla was injured. He was still breathing, and watching the Vemeh to see if he’d get up.

The Vemeh was also alive, but unable to rise again. Unless it could heal itself, it wouldn’t live much longer. I cringed, never liking death, and stood up. Mackalla glanced over to me, and in that instant where neither of us were watching the Vemeh–

It changed.

The warping of its grey form caught my attention and I stared, rivetted, as limbs lengthened, pelt changed to skin, and eyes turned from gold to sapphire. Realizing what was happening, I glanced at what was now a human hand and saw it. A silver band around his finger — a morphing ring. Made by the only Lavanians who could morph naturally, Night Cats, the ring depicted one of their kind on the band, and bestowed the ability to shapeshift – to morph – on its wearer. It was worrying that a Vemeh, on Earth, could morph; it indicated that this guy was no random visitor.

Of course, foremost on my mind was that the morphing process healed all of the critter’s injuries, leaving him refreshed, while Mackalla was still oozing blood from his own wounds. Which left me to fight. Now, I may be a tae kwon do student, but the key word there is student — I’m not that great, though I can handle the basics. Not to mention, I’d just fallen down a ten-foot hole. I was a bit banged up.

The critter finished morphing into a tall, well-built human and stood, dressed in medieval-style clothing complete with a sword strapped to his back. He had a shock of messy black hair and those vivid blue eyes. If he weren’t the bad guy, he’d be pretty cute. I slipped my bookbag off and hoped that it didn’t get too badly damaged; I had the funny feeling that I’d be needing a lot of the stuff in there soon.

“Who are you?” I demanded, cautiously sidling away from the edge of the pit. I did not want to fall down there again. Critter stared at me from hostile eyes, then graced me with a reply, “You are Shane Myers. You will come with me, by orders of the Ajoitéi Prince.” I raised an eyebrow and positioned myself so that Mackalla (near the edge of the hole) and I were on opposite sides of the morpher. Settling automatically into a fighting stance, I tried to see if my brain knew of Ajoitéi, but unfortunately, I didn’t know a thing of them. Maybe a new species.

“I don’t think so, bucko,” I muttered in a belated retort as I tossed my thoughts away. Thinking has little place when you’re facing off against a guy with a sword. Critter chuckled under his breath, a harsh sound, and abruptly lunged, blade still nestled in its sheath. If he’s planning to fight me sans sword, then I might actually have a chance, I thought as I dodged. To test him, I sent out a roundhouse kick, which actually landed hard on his shoulder as he turned to face me. My eyes narrowed and I grinned; maybe this guy wasn’t as tough as he looked.

My hopes were dashed as a solid kick to my collarbone sent me stumbling into the tunnel wall. “Ouch,” I mumbled, dodging the next one and retaliating. For a few moments, it was back and forth, neither of us landing a blow. I was feeling rather proud of myself until Critter drew his sword and grasped the hilt with obvious expertise, tip aimed right for my heart. I clenched my hand in futility, nails digging into my palm. There was no way I could beat him if he really knew how to use that blade, and it sure seemed that way.

Critter abruptly yelled, staggering and falling to one knee. I blinked, then my tunnel-vision expanded to include Mackalla, who had latched onto the guy’s ankle. Seizing the opportunity, I lunged and tackled Critter, knocking the sword farther down the tunnel. With Mackalla still attached to him, I scrambled away and grabbed the sword. It was heavier than I’d expected, though I’d always loved swords and actually owned a few blunt-edged blades myself. Grinning, I waited for my chance, and while Mackalla held the morpher still, I struck! The flat of the blade right across the back of the skull; Critter crumpled, unconscious.

“Bwahaha,” I cackled, examining the sword with a little more respect than previously. Mackalla coughed a laugh and pushed Critter away from him, slipping into what I recognized as a healing trance. You see, Lavanian healing systems have many advantages, one of which being a trance-like state that gives an immense boost to the immune and healing systems. The Heifia could stay in a healing trance for ten minutes and be completely healed, as opposed to not doing so and needing several weeks to recuperate.

Averting my eyes from the unnerving sight of Mackalla’s flesh and pelt literally crawling, I searched Critter carefully. Aside from the sword and morphing ring, he carried a pouch of travel rations and a small dagger. I took the dagger and sword sheath, adjusting it to fit me and sheathing the sword. The weight on my back was a little weird, but I’d rather me have the blade than him. I strapped the dagger-sheath around my calf, adjusted it, and idly examined the smaller blade as I waited for Mackalla to finish.

A rustle of fur behind me informed me that the Heifia had healed. He rose as I sheathed the dagger and tosseded the pouch of food into my backpack, hefting the bag onto my shoulder again. “Are you letting him live?” he grumbled, stretching each muscular leg. I blinked, then waved my hand at Critter, “Well, he’s not dangerous when you’re healed and I have his blades.” Mackalla glowered darkly at me and I bit my lip, glancing at the morphing ring. “I couldn’t,” I protested, fumbling for words. “Those rings are given as a free gift, an honorable reward for–”

Mackalla cut me off, flicking an ear to show his disapproval, “He probably killed its owner and stole it.” I snorted, but I peered thoughtfully at the limp form. “It would trap him as a human,” I realized, and with finality shook my head. “It’d be kinder to kill him. And I’m not going to do that either.” The Heifia rolled his brown eyes and pressed a paw against Critter’s chest lightly, as though he were testing buoyancy. “Mind if I do?” he grumbled, but only half-heartedly. I didn’t bother answering; I was already becoming accustomed to Mackalla’s rugged but inherently good personality. I patted the travel rations, checked to make sure both dagger and sword were securely nestled in their sheaths, and looked at him expectantly.

With a deep sigh, Mackalla began a brisk walk down the tunnel, forcing me to nearly jog to keep up. However, I soon settled into my own ground-eating stride; long legs are useful at times. The awkwardness of the sword on my back soon faded after a while, and for a long time I didn’t speak. The total weirdness of the situation had finally hit me. I mean, me, a seventeen-year-old girl, was currently toting a real sword and dagger and strolling in an underground tunnel that shouldn’t exist alongside an alien dog, after we both had just defeated a shapeshifting beast. Riiight. I was just beginning to choke on the surreality of the whole deal when Mackalla glanced over at me.

“So. I know you have questions.”

I grinned, snapping out of my struggle with the freakiness factor. “You bet. You mean you’ll answer them?”

He twisted his muzzle and exhaled with slightly more force, a gesture that I was coming to recognize as his shrug. “Sure. What else are we going to do?”

“Well, first off,” I shot him a pointed look, “You could explain the whole tunnel-under-my-town deal. And tell me where we’re going.”

The Heifia growled a laugh. “This tunnel was constructed only recently. You know of Olashi, I assume. They keep an eye on Earth, since it’s very similar to Lavana in planet structure. That’s how we found out about you. They spotted that art you entered in the… gathering-event.”

I grinned brightly, “The Korat! Yeah. I won second place to boot.”

Mackalla rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Right. Korats are too… unique… for there to be a possibility of coincidence in drawing one. You were pretty accurate, too. So, a spy was set on you. We found out how much you knew by watching what you wrote and draw… oh, and listening to you talk to yourself. That was a riot.”

I glanced over when he said the last part in such a dry tone, but mischief was tugging his muzzle into a smirk. So, with a mock-haughty tone, I retorted, “Yes, well, I tend to talk to the most intelligent person around. You’re lucky I’m still speaking with you.”

The Heifia snorted lightly, rounding a corner as we power-walked. “It was decided that, should what you know get into the wrong hands, you could do some damage. And it’s not Olashi policy to go around killing weird humans… so I was sent to–” He cut off, whipping his muzzle around and staring the way we’d come. He sniffed, then muttered a growl.

“What?” I asked, totally confused. Heifian senses far surpass mine. Mackalla grumbled, “Your little act of charity just left via Portal.” I nodded, biting my lip. Portals, fickle entities, could warp a creature from planet to planet in the blink of an eye. After a moment of resumed walking, Mackalla continued his tale. “I was sent here, also by Portal, to the woods a few hours from town. Apparently humans train their warriors in the forest, because I was spotted, as was the departing Portal. Not hard to miss that, granted. I was chased… and with nowhere else to go, I fled here. I had… still have… strict orders not to harm any humans.”

I snickered. “Yeah, most humans who get a shark-bite from a dog tend to freak out.” When he shot me a puzzled look, I pointed to his definitely non-canine teeth with a grin. “But,” I continued, “that explains the tunnel. A rendez-vous for you and Olashi. That’s enough for me. But where exactly are we going? Don’t tell me there’s an Olashi at the end of this thing.”

It was Mackalla’s turn to snicker. “No. However, a leg of this tunnel leads to some dense forest. Once we get outside, I think I can summon a Portal. What I’m going to do with it… well, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. It would not be a good idea to take you to Lavana. Humans–”

“Wouldn’t have a chance there. I know. Trust me, I know.” For a moment, the immoral part of my mind berated me for not taking the morphing ring. “Well, you’ve got to get Sarge and Company off your back without harming them nor disturbing the local police. Not to mention without alarming my parents with my absence. They’re kinda protective, y’know.”

The Heifia was silent for a moment, then we finally reached a fork in the tunnel. He sniffed both ways, but looked confused. “Odd. The right tunnel goes straight, but the left one goes down. Neither of which would take us to the surface.” I raised an eyebrow; shouldn’t he be familiar with the tunnel, if he’s used it before? Mackalla sniffed again, then took the right path. We continued walking, though the lights got dimmer and farther apart as we went. Noting the wheels spinning in that tawny skull of his, I let Mackalla have his silence, chewing over new information as well.

So. I might have a chance to go to Lavana. Which is, hands-down, my ultimate dream. Even though, with over 93% of the hundreds of predator species sentient, my chances of living through such an excursion were slim at best. But man… what would you give to go to a planet that, in your mind, you created? (Gimme a break. I know that the actual Creators, a highly advanced alien race, Created the Tri-System and its creatures. I was still coping with the fact it wasn’t my imagination that did so.)

Mackalla exhaled with some force, and I glanced over. “Well,” he rumbled, “I don’t have a clue what to do. The plan was for me to contact you in a discreet manner, play the part of a dog, and assess the situation, then report back. I need to contact my Simnohs and talk to–” Again he paused, then growled under his breath. “Dyone.” I arched a brow at the Kalash curse-word. He ignored me and peered down at a jeweled band wrapped around his foreleg, something I just then identified as a comband. “I had forgotten,” he muttered, “that these things don’t work underground. Either way, we need to get back to the surface… at all costs.”

Barked commands and startled exclamations were my first clue that this Saturday wasn’t going to be a normal day. I quickened my pace and jogged down the street, taking a right at Mary’s Restaurant. You don’t normally hear loud, stern voices spitting out orders in my small, peaceful West Virginian town, and could I help it that I was curious? So I went to investigate, flinching as I heard a little girl start up a wail comparable to the already-shrieking police siren. A call of “Shane Myers! Don’t you go near that mess!” only earned a flippant wave to the old woman, one of my mother’s customers. I slowed for a moment, wondering if I really should be going near something so obviously alarming, then with a grin I decided that I’d just take a peek and then be on my way.

I turned another corner and skidded to a stop, too startled to duck back behind the brick building. A large, golden-brown dog was backed against a parked police car, snarling viciously with hackles raised. Five men dressed in military uniforms fanned out, guns all cocked. The guns were what worried me; they looked like something you’d shoot a plane with, not a stray dog. But then, something tickled my surprised little brain and got the wheels spinning again. I took a second look at the dog.

It was all wrong. The build was too muscular, the paws too broad, the muzzle too thick. The tail was heavier than would be right for the Great Dane-esque body, those big triangular ears belonged to a jackal, and the teeth looked like they came from a shark, not a mutt. This was no dog. No way. Still took me a second to identify it, though. And when I did, I staggered back, pressing my body against the bank’s walls to steady myself.

“It… couldn’t be…” My voice came out in a gasping whisper as the scene before me seemed to crystalize. One of the men had a few more decorations on his shoulder than the others, and he turned his head slightly towards one of his men, eyes never leaving the canine, “Get the tranquilizer gun. Pop it full of darts until it falls over.” My mind whirled as the soldier carefully clicked the safety back onto his gun, set it down, and went digging in a small box.

I had to do something. If I was right, this dog was no dog at all; it was a Non-Maned Heifia… a canine, to be sure, but a sentient canine from another world. See, I’m an artist and writer; I have a certain few planets that I feature in most of my art and stories, and several species that populate them. (Well, more than several. Three planets, known together as the Tri-System along with two moons, plus a couple hundred species.) This tawny canine was the living description of a NM Heifia. And I certainly couldn’t just let some dude shoot him. Right?

While the soldier was searching for the tranq-gun, I strode forward, acting as self-assured as I could. Pretending to just now notice the whole mess, I stopped and exaggerated a look of confused surprise. “Hey now,” I drawled, trying for the ignorant-hick stereotype, “Whatter you guys doin’ with my huntin’ dawg?” To say the least, I got some looks from the five men, the last one gripping a small dart-gun in his hands. I whistled and slapped my hip, praying that the Heifia would get the drift and play along. “C’mon, Bubba,” I called, tenseness crooking my fingers as I gestured him over. Almost as an after-thought, I hoped that the Heifia wasn’t going to kill me… but Non-Maned Heifias, unlike Maned Heifias, tend to be pretty easy-going. Of course, I could just be off my rocker and trying to save a rabid stray dog.

The Heifia’s thunderous growling stuttered to a stop, he glanced past the police car’s bumper at me, and I swear he looked confused. The man in charge straightened his spine and waved his gun my way, earning a serious flinch when those double barrels pointed directly at me. “Young lady, get out of the way. We have a situation here, and this is not your dog–” I interrupted, greatly daring, though I kept my expression lethargic and… rather stupid. “C’mon now, Sarge, this here’s Bubba! He’s my dawg awright. See? He listens. C’mere, Bubba.” I slapped my hip, shooting “Bubba” a pointed glance. With a half-hearted wuff, he slipped around the police car and trotted to my side.

“Good boy,” I slurred, then hissed under my breath, “If you understand me, play along.” A heavy muzzle brushed against my hand and I stifled a wince; being used to dogs, you’d think I wouldn’t mind being thoroughly sniffed. “Look, Sarge, he’s my dawg, so lay off, huh? We don’t need you city-cops ’round here.” I devoutly hoped he wouldn’t nail me with that gun he kept waving around for my insolence. For a long moment, he was expressionless, before a tic started up in his forehead and I got the impression that he wasn’t dealing from a full deck. I ran through my story; for the most part, it checked out. “Bubba” did look like a dog to the unknowing eye, and he obeyed me. It was too bad that I didn’t look the part of the hick, dressed not in overalls and a stained shirt, but baggy jeans, tennis shoes, and a Save the Rainforest T-shirt; my acting would have to fool the guy more than my appearance would.

Sarge turned and looked at the man holding the tranq-gun. “Shoot the beast; don’t miss, but if you do, the darts won’t hurt the girl.” My eyes bugged out at such idiocy, though I figured he was right about the tranqs not harming me much, and I gripped the canine’s scruff in pure reflex. He didn’t flinch, but his jaws closed around my belt and he jerked me around the corner of the building as the first dart fired. I winced and stared down at the huge canine, who looked up at me with intelligence sparkling in his dark brown eyes. Feeling the urge to learn his name, I introduced myself, “My name is Shane.”

Shock tugged at his muzzle, but he shook it off and demanded in a rough, growling voice, “Myers?” I was surprised, to say the least, and I nodded. He slipped into Kalash, a language I well knew, for it was the common tongue of my worlds, “My name is Mackalla.” As I heard boots smacking against the pavement, I suddenly remembered that there were people after him. Mackalla tossed his head and took off at a slow lope, one that I could easily keep up with; I sprinted after him, wondering how we were going to lose the five soldiers.

“In here,” the Heifia rumbled, darting into a narrow alleyway between two buildings. I trailed him, breathing hard but fairly fit due to the tae kwon do classes I’d been taking for almost a year now. To my surprise, he stopped at the old bank that had been marked to be torn down soon. He cast a furtive glance about him, ignored the civilians who stared, and ducked into the entryway. I followed, waving and trying to grin at the people I knew. Boy, would my parents ever be mad if they knew what I was doing… but then, they’d never get the whole sentient-alien-dog deal.

Inside, it was dark, moldy, and littered with debris. Mackalla seemed to know exactly where he was going, so I trailed him closely, stumbling once or twice. He glanced back, grinned encouragingly with unnervingly sharp fangs, and continued. At the heart of the old building, we stopped, and I stared. There was a thick steel door in the midst of deterioration, shiny and new. “Uhm, Mackalla…?” I glanced at the canine as he pawed at something on the floor. To my surprise, the steel door swung open silently.

Mackalla’s large ears twitched and he gazed behind us, then growled under his breath. “They’ve found us. Quickly. Inside.” His Kalash was rough, but then, so was my knowledge of it, so it worked out. I still hesitated, peering inside, until the Heifia snatched my belt and dragged me past the door. I was let stand still for a moment, then the door shut just as my own hearing picked up the sound of pursuit. A dim light switched on and I looked around as Mackalla seemingly locked the door.

We were in a tunnel, lit by a row of dull flourescent lights. The floor sloped gently downwards, and the tunnel curved sharply not too far ahead. “Alright Mackalla… what’s going on here? Why are you, a Non-Maned Heifia, here on Earth?” I looked at the three-foot canine as he turned towards me and began a slow walk down the tunnel, apparently collecting his thoughts. As was becoming typical, I followed him, and waited patiently. But after about ten minutes of traversing the sloped and twisting tunnel, I was a bit impatient.

“Mackalla…?”

He sighed heavily, then glanced at me with a strange reluctance in his eyes. It was almost creepy, how well I could read his expressions. “You… you actually know us, don’t you? You knew my species.” I laughed, “Yeah, I don’t go rescuing strays when they’re cornered by the military. But what do you mean, ‘us’? As in… Lavanians as a whole?” I cocked my head, now walking at his side, and adjusting to speaking Kalash again. My Aunt Chrissy had taught me that particular language when I was young. She’d always been the one to encourage my crazy imagination.

“I didn’t believe them, when they said that a human knew of us. But it was serious enough to warrant attention; trouble’s been rattling around lately, and your knowledge could be used against us. So I was sent here.”

Needless to say, I was more than a little freaked out by the fact that my imagination hadn’t actually been imagining my creatures and my worlds out of thin air. So I chewed this tidbit over, making a mental note at Mackalla’s vagueness when speaking of ‘them’ and ‘trouble’. It was while I was deep in thought that I turned a sharp corner and felt my outstretched foot slip. I stumbled lightly, reaching out a hand to steady myself — and down I went, falling forwards.

I didn’t really expect to pitch into a big hole in the ground, though.

I fell about ten feet, landing with a resounding thud that knocked the wind out of me. My bookbag, with several blank notebooks in it and some art supplies, knocked me on the head. “Shane!” Mackalla’s concerned bark was almost touching, although as I struggled to regain my breath, it merely compounded the sudden headache. Groaning my response, I rolled over, staring up sheer walls at the Heifia. “Ow.” I lay there for a moment, regaining my addled senses, then I scrambled to my feet. Mackalla’s strained expression gave me a clue that something wasn’t quite right, and rubbing my scraped elbow, I glanced around at the six-by-twenty pit. And I gaped.

The ground was littered with skeletons and rotting corpses!

Twelve beasts of various sizes and shapes gathered in a ring one night, both moons obscured by heavy stormclouds. A massive feline with a pelt blacker than ebony spoke, his vibrant gold eyes almost luminous in the darkness. “How can a human know of our world? The Olashi have been very careful in their spying; no Earthen being has any idea we exist.”

A second black feline, far smaller than the first, tossed her sleek muzzle in a shrug. “I don’t know. But this young girl does. She even knows pieces of different languages. What should we do about her?”

An uneasy grumbling went around the circle, silenced by a low growl from the first great cat. “Could what she knows be used against us? The world is troubled of late… I feel a storm brewing, though I cannot pinpoint the source.”

The female looked across the ring at the black predator and nodded reluctantly, “Unfortunately… yes. Were we to have enemies that would invade our home, what she knows could be our undoing.”

A striped feline, even larger than the first at a towering twelve feet high, snarled liquidly. Ears flattened to his skull, the lean cat muttered, “Then send someone to watch her. Guard her.”

Another restless noise swept through those assembled, this time halted abruptly by a dangerous hiss from the second cat. The female looked up with sapphire eyes at the two felines, then shook her head, “Earth creatures are stupid, and do not resemble us.”

The striped one laughed ruthlessly, and with one huge paw shoved a tawny canine forward. “This one could be taken for one of their beasts.” The canine, much smaller than the others at three feet, looked startled as he regained his footing from the abrupt push. The first feline peered down at him speculatively, then nodded his noble head.

“Are you willing to do this, Mackalla Ammh?”

The canine settled onto his haunches, thoughts running deep. But he knew that he truly had no choice, and so relented. “Yes, I am. I will watch and guard the human who knows us so well.”

The female bared ivory teeth in a fierce grin and slapped the canine’s shoulder approvingly with a hand-like paw. “Good. We will send you to Earth by Portal. Take care, Mackalla. Keep in touch.” The canine nodded, glancing down at the jeweled band he wore ’round his wrist; the communicator would be his only link to his world.