Interlude

  Remi Fourdogs

  Remi Fourdogs squinted against the harsh glare of the sun, his eyes tracing the endless stretch of sand that now lay where the sea had been only hours before. The tide had retreated, and as it always did on this world, it dragged the ocean miles from shore, leaving behind a barren wasteland of wet flats, glistening under the fading light. That’s the problem with a world with two moons. The tides were ridiculous.

  His boat was sitting on the silt. It was leaning to one side. Remi loved that boat. He’d sailed the Altasjura on it for almost a decade now. In truth, he’d spent more time on it then any other place he’d claimed as ‘home’.

  His breath hissed between clenched teeth as he gauged the distance to the cliffs, far off in the haze. Remi knew roughly where he was. Not too far north of the Wailing Rocks, if his memory served. But it didn’t really matter, did it? It’s not like anyone ever knew where he was if he got into trouble. Or had anyone that would really care. He let the thought pass, a cold shiver prickling down his spine that he blamed on the chill in the air.

  He hated being this far north. It was just too fucking cold. He preferred the southern lands of Keiran, but the hunting grounds down south had gotten crowded of late, now that the Yarji had discovered what Remi had known for years.

  Remi might have been a seasoned hunter but that didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid. The flats were treacherous, not simply for their shifting sands, but for what moved beneath them, what hid in the deep trenches and shadowed pools.

  Draega.

  And he wasn’t after just any simple Draega. No, Remi had set his sights on an alpha. It was a fool’s errand, maybe, but Remi Fourdogs had never been accused of being wise.

  He could feel the weight of the harpoon slung across his back. It was a crude weapon for a crude man, but it had served him well enough. The drag marks of his boat were already filling with water, the tide’s slow return. He would have to be quick. But quick wasn’t the same as careless, and there was no room for mistakes.

  Remi Fourdogs stood still as three of his hounds fanned out around him, great shadows in the midday light, each one a result of centuries of careful breeding. These were not mere hunting dogs, not by any stretch. They were beasts, larger and stronger than even the white wolves of the north, bred for one purpose and one purpose only: to hunt draega.

  The first to move was Locust, the strongest of the three, he was all svelte muscle and sinew. His coat was pure black silk, slick with moisture from the silt, his eyes an intense amber. Locust’s breath came out in puffed bursts, nostrils flaring as he picked up the faintest traces of scent in the air. There was an intensity to him, a steady confidence that spoke of countless hunts.

  Next was Sable, leaner than Locust but no less formidable. Her coat too was a dark, oily black with white markings. Sable was the fastest, her long limbs carrying her across the silt with grace, her nose close to the ground. She was the most aggressive of the pack, always on the edge, always eager for the kill. But she was disciplined, knew when to hold back, to let Locust take the lead. Her eyes, a cold, piercing blue, flicked back to Remi every few moments, waiting for the signal that would unleash her full fury.

  The last of the trio was Red, named for the rust-coloured fur that ran in streaks through his coat. He was the youngest of the three, still growing into his size, but already showing signs of the power that coursed through his bloodline. Red was the most eager, bounding across the silt in wide arcs, his energy almost palpable. He sniffed the air, every muscle in his body taut with anticipation. Red was the scout, the one who would find the prey, who would flush it out into the open where the others could bring it down.

  And then there was Arrow, the eldest, a veteran of more hunts than any of the others could dream of. She lay on the boat, her white muzzle resting on her paws, watching with calm, knowing eyes as the younger dogs went about their work. Arrow had earned her place many times over. She no longer hunted, her joints too stiff, her reflexes dulled by age. But Remi had a soft spot for her, couldn’t bring himself to leave her behind. Though she no longer ran with the pack, she still had a role to play. She would stay close, hang back, and when the time came, she would let out that low, mournful howl that would let Remi know the hunt was truly on.

  The three working dogs moved in a wide circle around him, their noses close to the ground. They were reading the silt, the air, the water.

  The creature was close, very close. Remi knew it was lurking just beneath the surface of the silt, waiting for the right moment to strike. They’d been tracking this one for nearly a month, all the way along the coastline of Rubane and into the great bay. But now, now it decided that Remi Fourdogs and his four dogs were its prey.

  Remi’s hands went to the harpoon at his back. He watched as Locust paused, his massive head swinging slowly from side to side, and then Sable, her ears twitching as she picked up something only she could hear.

  Red barked.

  They had found it.

  Remi’s breath hitched as the silt beneath his feet trembled, the vibration running up his legs and into his gut like the prelude to an earthquake. The dogs had gone still, their eyes locked on a spot just ahead where the wet sand seemed to pulse and shift with unnatural life. He knew what was coming, had been hunting these beasts long enough to recognize the signs. But that didn’t make the sight of the rising bulk any less awe-inspiring—or terrifying.

  The creature burst from the silt with a spray of sand and water, a massive claw arcing high into the air, glistening like a freshly sharpened blade. It was an enormous, ferocious beast, far larger than his boat, closer to a small trading vessel in size. Its shell was mottled with dark greens and blacks, covered in spines that looked more like jagged mountains than armour. The thing’s eyes swivelled independently on stalks, taking in the world with a detached, predatory intelligence. Its mouthparts clicked and chittered.

  Remi immediately identified it as a Kragal. Up until recently, very few outside of him and his kin even knew they existed. The Yarji had discovered the secret, and were keen on the killing of them. He'd even heard of a group of Reldoni soldiers taking one down a few months ago on their coastline.

  How in all the Ashen Hells had they taken one down? It was a surprise as it was well known among Remi's people that the northern kingdoms had lost the knowledge of soulforging. How they'd managed to fight a draega alpha without soulforged soldiers was a mystery to Remi.

  He tightened his grip on the harpoon, eyes narrowing as he watched the monster extricate itself from the sand, its colossal legs digging deep grooves into the earth as it hauled its bulk toward him.

  Locust let out a low growl, his muscles coiling like a spring ready to release. Sable flanked to the left, her dark form practically vanishing against the wet flats, while Red darted to the right. Red was too eager. But this was no time for haste. Remi needed them to be patient, needed them to wait for the right moment.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  The Kragal was no mindless beast; it was a cunning predator, capable of snapping bones and shredding flesh with a single swipe of its claws.

  The Kragal’s claws snapped shut with a crack like thunder, pulling Remi’s attention. The dogs were circling now, their movements in perfect sync, a dance they had performed countless times before. Remi took a deep breath, steadying himself.

  The harpoon felt heavy in his hand.

  He was charging forward now, taking great leaps across the sand, pulling in the air around him and giving himself boosted velocity and lift with pushes of air. He closed the distance rapidly.

  Locust held back, letting Remi be the bait.

  The Kragal lunged, its massive claw slamming down where Remi had been standing moments before. He sidestepped, pushing himself with a rush of air as the claw passed within inches of his head.

  The dogs sprang into action, Locust charging straight for the creature’s legs, Sable darting in low to distract, and Red nipping at its exposed joints. But the Kragal was fast, faster than any creature its size had a right to be, and its other claw came sweeping around in a wide arc, forcing the dogs to scatter.

  Remi felt the familiar hum of aeristone tingling in his fingertips as he watched the Kragal bear down on his pack. The air around him thickened, rippling with pressure, waiting for his command. Aeristone runes etched into his skin flared to life, glowing faintly purple as the wind began to stir at his feet, kicking up silt and sand in small, swirling eddies. His heart pounded, but his mind was clear—focused. The Kragal was powerful, too powerful for an ordinary hunt, but Remi and his dogs were no ordinary hunters.

  Locust made the next move, barreling straight at the Kragal's front leg, teeth bared. The massive hound was a living battering ram, all muscle and brute force, and Remi knew Locust would hit the creature like a runaway boulder. But the Kragal was ready. Its smaller, secondary claw snapped out with surprising speed, aiming to catch Locust mid-charge.

  Remi's hand shot up, fingers splayed. The wind rushed to obey.

  A gust exploded from his palm, slamming into Locust’s side and knocking him just off his course—enough to avoid the Kragal's claw by a hair’s breadth. Locust twisted in mid-air, landing with a thud and skidding across the wet sand, his momentum carrying him past the claw to the Kragal's vulnerable underbelly. With a powerful leap, Locust sank his fangs deep into the softer flesh between the creature’s armoured chitin plates.

  Sable was next, her dark form a blur as she darted around the Kragal’s other side. Her speed was her greatest weapon, and with Remi’s wind whipping around her, she was faster still. She danced just out of reach of the snapping claws, nipping at the creature's joints, her teeth sharp as knives. Each time the Kragal tried to swat her away, she was gone, a shadow flitting, leaving only pain in her wake. Remi fed her speed, the wind at her back propelling her forward, making her an untouchable streak of black against the pale silt.

  Red, ever the most reckless of the pack, had circled wide, his tongue lolling with excitement. The Kragal's focus was split between Locust and Sable, its attention divided. This was Red’s chance. With a burst of speed, Remi sent a gale of wind surging beneath Red’s paws, lifting him slightly off the ground and launching him like an arrow toward the Kragal’s other flank. Red struck like a thunderbolt, powerful jaws bred to break the draega’s armoured chitin, clamping down on the creature’s leg, his powerful bite finding purchase in the thick, sinewy tendon.

  The Kragal roared—a sound that was more a deep, grinding rumble than anything else—as it tried to shake the dogs off. Its massive body twisted and bucked, the legs stabbing into the ground in a desperate attempt to dislodge the attackers. But Remi’s hounds were relentless, each one holding their ground, their teeth buried deep in the beast’s flesh. The Kragal's enormous claw slammed into the sand with a force that shook the ground in another attempt to scatter the dogs.

  Remi could see the tide beginning to return, the distant line of water creeping closer, and knew time was running out. The silt beneath his feet was already growing damp, the first trickles of seawater licking at the edges of the flats. They had to finish this quickly, before the rising water gave the Kragal any advantage. Trapped on their boat, the Kragal would make short work of them.

  Drawing on the wind once more, Remi’s eyes narrowed in concentration. He lifted his hand, and the air around him thickened, gathering into a vortex that swirled around his feet, lifting the silt and whipping it into a frenzy. The runes scarred into his skin began to glow, his aeristone absorbed into his body long ago.

  With a sharp thrust forward, he sent the wind crashing into the Kragal's face—or the maw that could be best described as a face. The wind struck like a giant hammer, pushing the kragal up on its rear legs, exposing its underside where Locust and Sable had already torn at the flesh.

  All three of the dogs pounced forward, their teeth tearing through muscle and sinew, pressing the advantage.

  The Kragal staggered, its movements becoming sluggish as it tried to back away, retreating toward the distant sea. But Remi was relentless. He wasn’t about to let it escape, not now, not when they were so close.

  With a final push, he unleashed a gale of wind that slammed into the creature’s legs, sweeping them out from under it and sending the massive crab crashing onto its side. Locust was on it in an instant, jaws clamping down on the exposed joint of the creature’s leg, while Sable darted in to rip at the soft flesh beneath the armoured plates. Red, undeterred by the thrashing limbs, went straight for the creature's eyes, a deep, guttural growl vibrating through his body as he tore at the vulnerable spots.

  Remi could see the Kragal weakening, its struggles growing less violent, its claws no longer striking with the same fervor. The beast was bleeding now, a thick, dark ichor seeping from its wounds, staining the silt beneath it.

  The dogs were relentless. This was what they were bred for, what they lived for. And Remi, with the power of the wind at his command, was their master, guiding them to the kill.

  With one last, powerful gust of wind, Remi drove his harpoon into the creature’s underbelly, the steel tip plunging deep into the Kragal’s flesh. The beast let out a final, high pitched shriek, its massive body convulsing as the life drained from it. Locust held on until the end, his teeth locked in a death grip, while Sable and Red backed away, their eyes still locked on the dying creature, waiting for any sign of movement.

  But it was done.

  The Kragal was finished, its monstrous form collapsing into the silt, the fight finally gone from its limbs. Remi let out a long breath, the wind around him dying down as the aeristone runes on his skin dimmed, the power fading now that the battle was won.

  He glanced at his dogs, each one panting heavily, their coats slick with sweat and the dark ichor of the Kragal. Arrow, who had watched the entire battle from the safety of the boat, let out a soft howl.

  Remi moved to Locust first. “Good boy,” he patted the massive hound on the flank, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as he caught his breath. It was hard not to have favourites, and Locust always seemed to hold Remi’s favour. Sable was slinking back to the boat, her job done, she would now rest alongside Arrow. Red, ever the pup, wagged his tail as if he hadn’t just helped bring down one of the most fearsome creatures in the sea.

  Remi grimaced as he approached the fallen Kragal, the thrill of victory quickly fading. The beast’s carcass was an enormous, stinking mound of chitinous flesh, slick with the dark ichor that oozed from its many wounds.

  Locust circled warily, his noses twitching at the foul scent, but he knew better than to interfere with what Remi had to do. Butchering an alpha draega was always the worst part of the hunt, and the Kragal, with its thick, spined shell and dense, rubbery flesh, was the most loathsome of them all.

  He retrieved a curved knife from his belt, the blade honed sharp enough to cut through bone. With a practised hand, he began the grisly work, slicing through the creature’s tough hide with long, forceful strokes. The stench was overpowering, a sickly blend of brine and rot that clung to his nostrils and coated his tongue.

  Remi worked quickly, ignoring the bile that rose in his throat, hacking away at layers of sinew and muscle. His hands were soon slick with the beast’s vile fluids, but he pressed on.

  This one better be fucking worth it.

  At last, his knife struck something hard, something that glinted faintly in the dim light. Remi grunted, leaning in to pry apart the thick folds of flesh, revealing a massive gemstone nestled deep within the monster’s core.

  It was a waterstone, as large as his head and jagged like a lump of broken glass fragments that had been fused back together. The gemstone flickered with an inner light that pulsed in shades of azure, highlighting the almost imperceptible runes etched along the surface.

  The sight of it made Remi’s mouth turn up in smirk. A good find, a damn good find. This much waterstone would bring gold enough to feed his entire village for over a year, maybe more. He held the stone up to the light, watching as it shimmered and danced with the essence of the ocean.