At the Boundary of Snow and Sand Read online

At the Boundary of Snow and Sand

  Written By Mae Rennox

  Copyright 2015 Mae Rennox

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  Other Titles By Mae Rennox:

  Poem Anthology

  Homo Floresiensis

  Ballerina & Boy

  Coming Soon:

  Dawn of a Dynasty

  The Shadow King

  ~Nuria~

  I run, hard, and with everything that I have. I run as hard and fast as my cold and aching body will carry me. Behind me faint rays of light are beginning to creep into the sky. Dawn is coming. I’m not going to make it far enough east before they catch up with me. Ahead the tundra stretches out in a seemingly endless snowscape. The flatness of the ground beyond the slope of this ridge tells me that I am near the place where snow becomes sand and the southern tribes make their home. If only I could reach it, but I’m not close enough. If I dare to stop and turn around I will be met with the orange glow of my tribe’s fires lighting the western horizon. I dare not stop.

  My lungs burn from cold and exertion, and my feet burn just as much. The snow and ice bite cruelly against my tender skin, and my steps have long lost their precision. I stumble as much as run. I’m leaving a trail of bloody footprints behind me, but winter and the Gods are with me because it has been snowing for hours. My tracks will soon be covered by the thick falling flakes.

  Unable to feel the ground beneath my frozen feet I stagger on through the searing pain in my extremities. The rest of me has long since gone numb. Only running keeps me warm enough to avoid permanent frostbite and with each step, each gasping breath, my heart beats more frantically and painfully in my chest. I am faced with a dilemma. If I keep on I will collapse, but if I stop the cold will kill me. Either way, Gods willing the Night Lord will take me before my tribe finds me. I would rather wrap myself in the cold embrace of snow and let it coax me to sleep where I can drift peacefully into death’s waiting grasp. Better that than to be ripped screaming from the world in my tribe’s fire.

  I have no fear for my soul. It won’t be trapped here in this world. As the moon follows the Sun, my tribe will come, and when they find me they will burn my body, alive or dead.

  The snow calls to me again. It wants me to stop, to curl myself into it and let it take me away from the world. My fur blanket flaps around my legs and weighs me down more with each step, as if in agreement with the snow. I want to answer the call, but I want to live even more.

  I come down hard on my next step, too hard. The ground shifts slightly and with so little mobility left I am unable to rebalance. I only just get my arms out in front of me before my body crashes down hard on the snow. A solid thunk comes from beneath me and the sound makes my stomach drop in fear, and then I am falling in a wave of jagged snow and ice. Luckily it isn’t a free fall, nor a body of water. The sounds of snow hitting rock and my own gasps as I land echo out before being snuffed out by another wave of snow that buries me. I have fallen into an underground cavern; and then I know nothing…

  ~*~

  Muffled scraping comes to me slowly. When I force open stinging, swollen eyelids the light is dim. The snow has been moved from my face and now the skin there stings and aches in the unexpected heat, but the rest of me still aches with the deeply bone-chilled, paralyzing ache of limbs too long unprotected from the cold. The scraping continues, and as sensation returns to my body I begin to feel wet. Warmth radiates through the cavern and is melting the snow, but not fast enough.

  Someone out there is helping me by moving away the crushing weight of snow one sweep at a time. The sounds do not comfort me; do they come from friend or foe? Fear coils tightly in my stomach again.

  Gradually the mound before my face is cleared away enough that I can see. A long, scaled, greenish-black tail sweeps into view. It resembles a snake, only much larger. I shiver, but this time not from the snow that encases me nor the long hours running across the tundra in a snowstorm. I have fallen into the lair of some underground dwelling lizard.

  My people sing about such beasts in the story songs, but no one really believes they are anything more than some ancient mythological creature. That long tail sweeps into view again with another great swoosh and then the snow encasing my chest begins to give and I gulp in deep breathes. With no small difficulty or fear I clamber free and find myself face to face with one of the great carnivorous lizards from the story songs.

  Its body is an intricate circular pattern of shining green-black scales in varying sizes. The body is like a massive snake’s, only with four pairs of legs that allow it to tower over me. Each long leg ends in razor taloned feet. Its eyes glow red like the molten cavern floor and teeth rise like a series of daggers from the great maw. Somewhere beyond the fear I feel is an appreciation for its menacing beauty.

  It brings that massive tooth-filled head to within an arm’s length of me, truly I can reach out and touch it. Those crimson eyes watch me with something other than simple animal interest, they hold an intelligent curiosity. I cross my arms around myself, acutely conscious of my missing blanket and painted skin.

  The head swings closer still and those eyes bore into me. Heat radiates from the creature; the snow around me melts and my skin flushes and stings as if I sit too close to a fire. When I chance a glance, light trickles down from the hole above us. The lizard’s heavy breathes echo slightly behind me, indicating a passage to another cavern perhaps. I am in its home now and there is no escape.

  A snort from the creature brings me back to its glowing orbs. They hold my gaze and slowly the head on its long sinewy neck begins to snake around my body, circling me completely. I don’t move while it inspects me, I don't even breathe.

  To my surprise the death blow I am expecting doesn’t come. I feel only the sweltering heat of the creature. It looks at me squarely again, but from the other direction as its neck encircles me still. We stay entwined like this for several moments, taking a measure of one another. My skin is slick with sweat and the steam of melting snow.

  The lizard snorts and tightens its neck suddenly; and I am lifted from the snow in a scaly vice-like grip, then set down several feet away on a large flat boulder. Its neck uncoils as quickly as it coiled, rears up, and then the creature blows fire onto the snow at its feet. It is now that fear releases its hold enough for me to remember my lost blanket.

  “No!” I cry without thinking, afraid it will set my blanket ablaze.

  The fire stops and the great head jerks up to stare at me with glowing eyes. Silence fills the cavern once more. I creep forward carefully with eyes locked on the lizard’s to see what it will do. It does nothing but watch. I look around at all the snow on the cavern floor; finding my blanket in this mess of ice and rock is a daunting prospect but what else is there to do? I can’t very well sit naked in a cavern and wait to see if my scaly companion is going to eat me or not.

  Another snort from it draws my attention back and those glowing eyes are looking at my body far too closely. I wrap my arms around myself again. That long tail whips across the cavern out of sight, it brings its head close again and a snake-like tongue darts out to lick the length of my upper arm. The touch burns and I jerk away in pain. It leaves a quickly rising welt so I reach for a handful of snow and slap it on the burn. The pain makes me hiss.

  For a moment the lizard watches my administrations, then it swivels its head back in the direction of the snow. The tail, in turn, comes sweeping back wit
h my blanket caught up in its coiled length.

  I grab for it and clutch it to me, feeling better with something to cover myself. The lizard watches me with an expression remarkably like distain and then turns back to the snow. I sit back on the boulder and pick up another hunk of ice to press against my arm. My new companion seems satisfied with this behaviour and goes back to blowing fire on the small avalanche I brought down in its home. It keeps breathing the flames even after the snow has turned to water and steam starts billowing up in great gusts until at last there is only the glowing red rock of the cavern floor.

  It turns back to me then, looking rather pleased with itself, and settles into the molten rock with content. Those fierce eyes watch me and I get the impression that I am supposed to be awed by the fiery display. Impulsively, I decide to show it a trick of my own.

  I drop my blanket and it settles around my waist, leaving my upper half bare again. Down here in the creature’s presence there is no danger of frostbite or hypothermia. Keeping my only cover from catching fire is more important than retaining my modesty in front of some great mythological lizard that isn’t supposed to exist.

  Next I release the ice in my grasp and angle on the rock so that my burned arm is facing the lizard. I circle the blistered skin with a finger. Then I hold the hand of my uninjured arm out, palm up, and will my power to life. My kinsmen fear me because of it, they tried to sacrifice me to the Gods for it, but this creature who’s presence burns hotter than the Sun’s rays and breathes fire — it might appreciate my gift. Red flames materialize in the air above my hand, hovering, circling. They curl around and around themselves, making a vivid vermillion orb.

  I get an approving snort and the lizard watches with increasing interest. Straining, I turn the flames orange, then yellow. A fresh sweat breaks out on my skin and my heart beats harder. The fire turns green. My breaths come in heavy, uneven pants and my lungs are burning.

  Blue. Brilliant sapphire tendrils weave and roil and hiss. My companion watches, mesmerized. I take a deep breath and press the fire to my injured arm - and scream. The burn is just a surface wound so it takes only minutes to heal, but pain is unbearable and feels as though it lasts a lifetime

  When it fades away I gather my strength and sit up again. The lizard watches me warily. I draw in several deep breathes to steady myself, then I show the creature my newly healed arm. It is wickedly scarred where the fire touched me, but at least it is healed. There is no more burned skin, no blisters to fester and spread infection. Only white and pink skin remain and the scar is patterned like the licking tongues of flame.

  The lizard’s head slithers close again on its snaking neck to inspect me. It snorts and snuffles my hand, almost like a horse searching for a treat. I hold my hand out again and with what remains of my strength set a small green fire to dancing on the cavern floor between us. The last thing I see as my consciousness swirls away is the glowing eyes of my new companion.

  ~*~

  I wake to sweltering heat. I’m feverish, itchy, and covered in a thick layer of sweat. After I passed out the lizard curled its neck around me and went to sleep. I sit up and its breaths stay deep and even. My fire still burns, and the lizard’s bed of rock still radiates heat although it no longer glows red. I need to cool off so I carefully crawl out of the circle of the lizard’s neck and begin to wander the cavern. It soon grows dark as the sun sets and my little fire is the only light source. As the floor cools the lizard begins to wake so I stoke the green flames a bit.

  On the farthest side of the cavern I find a sizeable collection of bones, most of them pelvic or skulls. There are even a number of totems like those the southern tribes worship. Spooked, a convulsive shiver runs through me and I turn and start picking my way back out of the trophies and around the boulders and stalagmites. The lizard watches me now so I move more carefully to prevent touching any of its collection.

  When I’m almost to it, it rises to its taloned, scaly feet with a snort. The sleek green-black sides expand with an indrawn breath and then it blows fire to reheat the cavern floor. Once the rock is glowing again it stretches out its neck and yanks me toward the molten rock. With a yelp I grab a boulder and narrowly avoid falling into the pit of glowing rocks. The lizard rears back and takes in the sight of me clinging precariously to the boulder, then turns and lumbers off through the tunnel.

  I am alone with only my fire and the orange glow of the rock pit for company. The light from the opening above has dimmed almost completely as night begins to settle across the world once more. The thought of spending the night alone in a dark cavern is unnerving, so I wrap my blanket around me tighter, set a small orb of fire to float over my shoulder, and begin searching for rocks that I could use to make hammer stones or blades.

  Before long I come across a talon of the lizard’s, it is a dull black, no longer shinning like obsidian the way the ones attached to its feet do. It is still wickedly sharp though, so I cut openings in the blanket and a strip from the bottom to make a makeshift tunic and belt. It isn’t much, but it allows more freedom of movement and keeps me covered.

  That done, I set aside my finds and begin retracing the wall of the cavern. In places I stop to set another green fire to burning; here on a small ledge, there on a boulder. I am careful to set none too close to the lizard’s collection, and soon the cavern is pleasingly lit with dancing green flames.

  ~*~

  It is long after dark before the lizard returns. When it slinks through the cavern entrance from the dark tunnel beyond an eastern river lizard hangs from its maw. The dead thing is easily twice my height and weight.

  My companion wastes no time in getting down to business. It tears off the tail of its catch and drops the limb before me then dives voraciously into the rest of the kill. I set my portion on a glowing flat rock from the pit to cook it and my stomach growls angrily. My hands shake and my body feels hollow, it has been too long since my last meal. Images of that meal swirl into focus in my mind’s eye but I push them back. I don’t want to think of last night or the day that led up to it. I watch the lizard to distract myself. It doesn’t chew, instead it rips off pieces of the carcass with those dagger-like teeth and swallows them whole. The bigger hunks of meat travel down the long neck in a bulge, reminding me again of a snake.

  Once my piece is stripped of skin, I set it aside to use for boots later and notice my companion eyeing it longingly. I sever a portion off and give it over, there is only enough skin for one boot now, but it’s worth it to watch the great lizard happily slurping down that strip of skin.

  This time when it gets up to leave the cavern it nudges me along and gently herds me down the passageway with it. As we near the end of the tunnel the sounds of water begin to echo to us until at last I step from the passage into a much larger cavern. Through it crashes a fresh water river that tumbles and roars angrily on the far side, but flows in calm, deep pools along the nearest edge. The lizard dunks its whole head under and begins to drink.

  I’m still not quite sure if the creature is merely keeping me alive to eat later, or if it views me as a new piece to its collection. What I am sure of is my own rankness and how parched I am from fleeing my tribe. Quickly I shuck my tunic and lay it out on the stone floor before the nearest pool before easing in. The water is bitterly cold but I’m used to worse in the wintery tundra of my home. It feels so good to drink my fill and wash away the filth of the last two nights.

  The lizard, having finished its drinking lays out on the floor and watches me with curious eyes until my ablutions are finished. I am grateful for the heat that radiates from it on the way back to the home cavern. Once there, the lizard reheats the floor and flops down to sleep until the rock grows cold again.

  ~*~

  The following days have held the same pattern. The lizard rises, often playing with bones from its collection or snorting at me until I make fire for it. Like a cat it bats one or more of its eight paws at the balls of fire I send rolling past it; it jumps and tumble
s and chases until it grows bored and leaves to hunt. Every time we play with the fire my gift grows stronger.

  From each kill I try to keep a bit of hide, even when all I can safely take is a palm-sized piece. Eventually I will be able to make myself lizard-skinned boots, a cape, and bedding with all the smaller pieces sewn together like patchwork. I have also made myself blades, a few bone needles, and kept aside tissue from the animals to turn into chord. Often the lizard lays and watches me work on these tasks through drowsing red eyes.

  Something has changed in the pattern lately though. Like a magpie, my companion has begun to bring back more things to hoard, only now it brings them for me. It brings me animal skins, snake skins, coloured rocks or crystals, even bones. It particularly favours skull and hip bones; already I have my own growing collection. My pile of skins grows much more slowly than the rest though because half of what the lizard brings I give back. It loves to eat nothing so much as skins.

  My first moon-cycle was a difficult few days in the cavern. The lizard had grown quite attached to me by then, only leaving my side to hunt. The smell of blood woke it, and after snuffling and nudging at my middle for several moments it wrapped its neck around me and began keening softly. It fretted over me for the duration of the cycle and would not leave even to hunt. I became very glad that I’d had the foresight to dry and store extra portions of the meat it brought me else I would have gone hungry. It even remained wary and reluctant to hunt for several days after that first time, but as the months have worn on it has grown accustomed and has come to accept that this is a normal process for my kind.