Read Online Ratha’s Creature (The First Book of The Named) by Clare Bell - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Clare Bell
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glanced down.
Fessran and Thakur stood near the tree, alternately staring up at her then at each other, brows wrinkled in dismay.
She cleared an opening large enough for her head, gulped a breath of air, tensed and lunged at the Red Tongue’s branch. Her teeth ground on wood. A branch broke beneath one of her paws, and she flailed wildly, bouncing in the treetop. The branch in her mouth splintered, with a crack that jarred her teeth. Her claws hooked, held, tore loose, and she slid. Her ears were bombarded by a volley of snapping limbs, and everything blurred, as the tree’s crown disintegrated. Black twigs, blue sky and the fire’s mocking orange tumbled together, whirled madly and crashed to a stop.
Ratha lay in the ash, her body one large ache. She opened one eye. Things were still moving. She sighed and shut it again.
Voices. Thakur’s. Fessran’s. A scuffing sound, someone kicking dirt. Ratha jumped up, shaking her ringing head. She staggered, squinting. Something moved. She planted all four paws and forced her eyes to focus on Thakur’s image, still blurred. Something was flickering between his legs as he jumped back and forth. Smoke boiled up behind him. Ratha heard the scuffing sound again and a thin, frightened yowl.
She pitched toward him, barely supporting herself on wobbly legs.
“Grab the end!” she heard Fessran call as Thakur made short useless rushes at the burning branch. “Take the end and rub it in the dirt as she did!”
But Thakur was too timid. Ratha saw him shy away again, his eyes wild with fright. Fessran blocked Ratha’s view as she charged the fire and frantically pawed dirt and ash into it. The Red Tongue paled under the gray cloud. It sputtered, choking. Ratha saw the muscles bunch in Fessran’s shoulders. The fire grew smaller; started to fade under her frenzied strokes.
Yet the fire-creature still lived and Ratha didn’t know what it might be able to do. Fessran was too close to the hail of sparks leaping from the flame.
“Fessran!” Ratha called and the other female paused in her stroking and glanced over her shoulder as Ratha stumbled toward her.
“So you live, young one. I thought you’d killed yourself with your foolishness.”
“Fessran, get away! You’re too close to it!”
Another shower of sparks went up and Fessran coughed in the thick smoke swirling around her. She sneezed and backed away. “Slay the creature, Ratha!” she hissed, squeezing her eyes shut.
Ratha jumped at the guttering fire and seized the end of the branch in her jaws. She threw it down, but the Red Tongue was stubborn and clung to the wood. She pawed the branch, rolling it over, yet still the creature peeked from between patches of curling bark. She crouched, watching, growing too fascinated with the creature to kill it. The fire crept out of its hiding place, as if it sensed that the initial assault was over. It burned cautiously along the top of the log. Ratha circled it.
“Look how it changes shape, Fessran,” she said.
“Don’t play with it,” Fessran snarled, her ears back. “Kill it.”
“Why? If we stay far enough away, it won’t hurt us. It is only a cub, Fessran.”
“It grows fast. Kill it.”
Ratha raised one paw, dipped it into the ash, stared at the fire curling around the branch. “No.” She put the paw down.
“Ratha, kill it!” Thakur cried. Fessran showed her teeth and crept toward the fire. Ratha blocked her. She tried to push past, but Ratha shoved her back. Fessran skidded in the ash and fell on her side. Ratha stood between her and the Red Tongue, her hackles up, her tail fluffed. Two pairs of slitted eyes met.
“This is my creature.”
“The Red Tongue is no one’s creature. Kill it.” Fessran scrambled in the ash, pulling her paws underneath her. Ratha tensed, feeling her eyes burn. “I will kill it or I will let it live, but it is my creature.” She leaned toward Fessran. The other’s eyes widened in dismay. She got up, shook the flaky
Fessran and Thakur stood near the tree, alternately staring up at her then at each other, brows wrinkled in dismay.
She cleared an opening large enough for her head, gulped a breath of air, tensed and lunged at the Red Tongue’s branch. Her teeth ground on wood. A branch broke beneath one of her paws, and she flailed wildly, bouncing in the treetop. The branch in her mouth splintered, with a crack that jarred her teeth. Her claws hooked, held, tore loose, and she slid. Her ears were bombarded by a volley of snapping limbs, and everything blurred, as the tree’s crown disintegrated. Black twigs, blue sky and the fire’s mocking orange tumbled together, whirled madly and crashed to a stop.
Ratha lay in the ash, her body one large ache. She opened one eye. Things were still moving. She sighed and shut it again.
Voices. Thakur’s. Fessran’s. A scuffing sound, someone kicking dirt. Ratha jumped up, shaking her ringing head. She staggered, squinting. Something moved. She planted all four paws and forced her eyes to focus on Thakur’s image, still blurred. Something was flickering between his legs as he jumped back and forth. Smoke boiled up behind him. Ratha heard the scuffing sound again and a thin, frightened yowl.
She pitched toward him, barely supporting herself on wobbly legs.
“Grab the end!” she heard Fessran call as Thakur made short useless rushes at the burning branch. “Take the end and rub it in the dirt as she did!”
But Thakur was too timid. Ratha saw him shy away again, his eyes wild with fright. Fessran blocked Ratha’s view as she charged the fire and frantically pawed dirt and ash into it. The Red Tongue paled under the gray cloud. It sputtered, choking. Ratha saw the muscles bunch in Fessran’s shoulders. The fire grew smaller; started to fade under her frenzied strokes.
Yet the fire-creature still lived and Ratha didn’t know what it might be able to do. Fessran was too close to the hail of sparks leaping from the flame.
“Fessran!” Ratha called and the other female paused in her stroking and glanced over her shoulder as Ratha stumbled toward her.
“So you live, young one. I thought you’d killed yourself with your foolishness.”
“Fessran, get away! You’re too close to it!”
Another shower of sparks went up and Fessran coughed in the thick smoke swirling around her. She sneezed and backed away. “Slay the creature, Ratha!” she hissed, squeezing her eyes shut.
Ratha jumped at the guttering fire and seized the end of the branch in her jaws. She threw it down, but the Red Tongue was stubborn and clung to the wood. She pawed the branch, rolling it over, yet still the creature peeked from between patches of curling bark. She crouched, watching, growing too fascinated with the creature to kill it. The fire crept out of its hiding place, as if it sensed that the initial assault was over. It burned cautiously along the top of the log. Ratha circled it.
“Look how it changes shape, Fessran,” she said.
“Don’t play with it,” Fessran snarled, her ears back. “Kill it.”
“Why? If we stay far enough away, it won’t hurt us. It is only a cub, Fessran.”
“It grows fast. Kill it.”
Ratha raised one paw, dipped it into the ash, stared at the fire curling around the branch. “No.” She put the paw down.
“Ratha, kill it!” Thakur cried. Fessran showed her teeth and crept toward the fire. Ratha blocked her. She tried to push past, but Ratha shoved her back. Fessran skidded in the ash and fell on her side. Ratha stood between her and the Red Tongue, her hackles up, her tail fluffed. Two pairs of slitted eyes met.
“This is my creature.”
“The Red Tongue is no one’s creature. Kill it.” Fessran scrambled in the ash, pulling her paws underneath her. Ratha tensed, feeling her eyes burn. “I will kill it or I will let it live, but it is my creature.” She leaned toward Fessran. The other’s eyes widened in dismay. She got up, shook the flaky
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