Serpent of the Abyss by S.J. Sanders
Chapter 12
Slengral slid through the tunnels, his thoughts uneasy as he made his way to the main shaft. Even though she still had not accepted his claim, he did not like leaving his mate alone and unprotected. He had never had problems with unknown males entering his caves, but he could not shake the sense that he was leaving his mate vulnerable. That many newly mated males agreed to give up their nests to accompany their female back to her nest in the shinara was a decision he now understood.
He had scorned that choice in his youth, the idea of giving up independence to live among the females, deep in the shinara under their rule. But now, finally with a mate of his own, it seemed the smart decision. The shinara meant safety for his female and future brood. His nest was perfectly comfortable and close enough to the surface that it made hunting convenient. For a hunter, it was an ideal location and provided him with everything he needed. He wasn’t so foolish and reckless to believe that it was what his mate needed.
Even female Seshanamitesh generally didn’t enjoy the sort of isolation that their male counterparts preferred. Not only was his cave highly secluded, but he knew it was not so well protected that it would stall a determined male from entering. His scent spoors streaked across the rocks of his tunnels served as an adequate warning, but there was always the risk that a male who scented a female would be emboldened enough to enter another’s nest.
The tip of his tail balled up with tension, and he felt his gavo lift from his back and along his skull with the tremor of aggression running down his spine. He wanted to return to his female’s side and carry her deep into the caves until they reached the shinara of the Aglatha, the name his people gave to this particular cave system. The only thing that prevented him from doing it was his promise to his mate, and the fact that he was uncertain if the females would accept an outsider among them. Especially not one who did not smell of a Seshanamitesh.
He could not so much as plead for rites as a mated pair when his female did not accept his mating claim. To get that far, he would have to abide by her rules. It was fortunate that her scent had not yet grown thick enough in his cavern to be scented outside of it.
That, at least, granted them some time.
Air expelled from his lungs in an irritated hiss as he craned his head back, his eyes traveling along the dark tunnel. Filling his throat with air, he barked, his ears shifting forward as he listened for the return of the sonic waves he released. Although he was able to see well enough in the dark, making his call to tell rival males to steer clear from his territory and determine if anyone was nearby within the tunnel. If there were, he would have no choice but to either challenge or wait until they left. He wouldn’t leave his mate unprotected if a male lingered nearby.
The coils of his tail relaxed when his calls bounced back reflecting nothing but the rock wall. Turning his head to the wall above him, he barked again, and then repeated the process in the spaces below him along the main shaft. Each time, it came back clear. On the last echo, he spread his wings wide and propelled himself off the side with his tail. With the initial flap of his wings, he felt his body release the chemical compounds into his system, filling the air sacks through his tail so that it became buoyant, whipping behind him as he flew up through the shaft.
He flew only a short distance before he heard the clattering sound of a male going on offensive, warning Slengral away from the mouth of his tunnel. The sound, made through the vibrating of the lower jawbone against the throat as the male vocalized, was one of their most easily discerned calls. The male had something valuable instead he was protecting—likely a fresh kill dragged into his tunnel, but a female was also a possibility.
Although Slengral wasn’t concerned over the warning, he veered away out of courtesy. If the male had a kill large enough to return with, or a female occupying his nest, he wouldn’t be going to the surface any time soon. All the same, he barked at the male as he passed, establishing his dominance as he surged higher up the shaft.
Whereas he hadn’t noticed much in the way of damage in his own territory, the higher he climbed toward Aglatha’s mouth, the more noticeable it became. Entire tunnels were collapsed, and in several places long flat slabs of the shaft wall had broken free and become lodged horizontally. They were not a significant enough of an obstacle to impede his ascent but noteworthy. It would take several males working together to carefully break them free and deposit them in lower caverns where they could be broken down or reshaped into suitable building material for the shinara.
It was after passing several such obstructions that he heard the familiar barks of males he knew. Flapping his wings harder, he ascended at a quicker pace, the gloom lightening the closer he got to the surface. Letting out several barks of his own to supplement his vision, he noted the presence of four males skimming over and around the rocks. The nearest male angled his head down toward him, barking in return as he dropped between two large stones lying side by side.
Lifting up at the last minute, the male leveled out beside him and kept an easy pace as they rose together through the shaft. He was not surprised to see that Kehtal was one of the males working on the blockages. Although Kehtal was equal to Slengral in many respects, the male’s slimmer, compact build had advantages over his broader musculature when it came to speed and dexterity. These qualities were especially necessary with such work. Although it took considerable strength to removing the stones, that was only a small part of the delicate task. The ease with which the male darted ahead and slid between the two parallel wedges was the perfect example of why he was so valuable.
The fallen stones came close to dissuading Slengral from attempting passage. He could not expand his wings to their limit and slide through with his greater bulk as Kehtal could. He again debated turning back, but the narrow gap was not so difficult to make it impassable, nor did he want to disappoint his female if it could be avoided.
Hissing, he ignored the fiery orange eyes watching humorously as Slengral slid his velkat into its harness and slowed enough to catch his claws along the edge of one slab. Angling himself carefully, he flattened his wings and pulled his body through. His scales on his torso rubbed on the rough edges, the velkat’s presence causing even more uncomfortable pressure, but he ignored the sensation as he worked himself free. The minute his wings cleared the rocks completely, he flapped them quickly so that the rest of his length shot through.
As Slengral withdrew the long double edged velkat from its sheath on his back, Kehtal’s wings snapped, and the male rose quickly from where he hovered just above the rock to his side.
“I was certain that you would turn back and hunker in your tunnel until this mess was cleared,” the male called out, his voice light. “I am sure Daskh would have done the same if they were not right outside of his tunnel.”
The male in question uncoiled from his perch and glared over at the smaller Seshanamitesh, his luminous pale green eyes the only thing visible in the shadows of the tunnel entrance.
“Are you mocking me, kapan?” he growled, his deep growl rolling into the shaft.
Kehtal hissed at the insult, his gavo rising along his spine but Slengral knew that nothing would come of it. This was a typical dance for the males whose nests were close along the main shaft. It was actually impressive that Daskh had not driven the smaller male out like many other males would. It would not even require much effort on his part. Daskh was enormous, even for one of their males, and possessed an unpleasant attitude that warded his territory better than any spoor. Only a fool would breach Daskh’s nest, much less challenge him.
Which meant that the big Seshanamitesh got enjoyment out of needling the other male, especially about his smaller build. Kapan literally meant smallest born of the litter, and it was the one insult that Kehtal took offense to, even if that offense was clearly exaggerated. It was a strange sort of friendship that the males had fallen into among a species where, unlike females, males rarely befriended each other beyond casual associations.
When Kehtal failed to advance, Daskh laughed and slid further out of his tunnel. He was unable to get completely out due to the angle of the slabs blocking his tunnel, but his eyes glittered with amusement.
“I did not think so.” He huffed an annoyed sigh and glanced over at Slengral. “The kapan has a point, though. It is not like you to force yourself through rocks if the passage is not clear. I have little choice myself but to wait here to the end of eternity. Waiting to crush rocks until he finally gives me his instruction.”
“I have told you before that it is delicate work. The strikes have to be precise,” Kehtal snapped.
Daskh casually unfurled his gavo and let it snap shut again as his jaws opened in a massive yawn. His speculative gaze, however, never left Slengral. As big as the male was, though he did not possess the physical speed of most hunters, he was not slow in either body or mind.
“Well?” he rumbled. “Was your last hunt so poor that you cannot spend a night relaxing in your nest… and be glad you do not have to deal with this mess?”
Slengral grunted impatiently. “No, it was not poor, but yes, I must hunt. As to why is my concern alone.” He spread his wings wider to depart, uninterested in being questioned—especially when the males regarded him with eyes growing even brighter with curiosity—but wanted to curse. Although they were occupied and unlikely to go to the surface, he had to ask. If nothing else, the males dwelled in a section of the shaft where they could spread his warning further among their people.
Settling to flap his wings at a sedate pace to keep him flying in place, he narrowed his eyes. “Have either of you eaten the two-legged creatures above?”
Kehtal cocked his head. “The ones that arrived on Seshana from the sky?”
He snapped the gavo crests on his head in the affirmative, battling his impatience to continue on and see if the entrance was clear or not.
Kehtal exchanged a look with Daskh, the other male’s expression hardening in response, before meeting Slengral’s eyes curiously.
“I have not, although I have heard of other males saying their meat is the sweetest. More than one has dragged their hunt through the tunnels. Sometimes it is alive and screaming.” Kehtal shivered, his body jerking subtly in the air in response to the movement of his scales. “It is unpleasant. Not like any animal on Seshana. I do not like it, so I cannot stomach the thought of eating them. I stay far away from the territory erected for them and hunt what I know.”
“I as well,” Daskh grumbled. He peered at Slengral. “I would not recommend it. I like the smell of some of them,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Some of the males have become like beasts in their indiscriminate hunting. The shinara is unwise to allow them to continue.”
“If they are even aware of it,” Kehtal replied in a low voice. “The females rarely surface anymore from the shinara, relying only on the talk of males who arrive at their gates with offerings. Even that depends on if a female has an interest in a male and feels like conversing.” His eyes settled on Slengral once more. “Are you hoping to go and see if one is open to conversing as she takes your seed?”
Slengral recoiled. He had many offers from the females, but other than one occasion in his youth that had proved to be a disappointing experience which thankfully did not produce any young, he had no interest in submitting to the cold exchange. He wanted a mate, and now that he finally had her, he would accept nothing less. Not even to save the humans above.
It would have to wait until his mate was able to meet with the females of the shinara and make her case to them personally. But he could not tell these males that. He would not let on that he had a female—not yet, not when she was still unbound.
He jerked his chin down. “No. I just ask that you warn other males not to eat them. They are people and responsible for the calamities we have been experiencing, and so have to be dealt with by the shinara, but they are not prey to hunt.”
Daskh’s brow dropped. “How do you know this, Slengral?”
“I spoke to one and discovered the truth,” he replied, sticking to the vaguest answer even if it was more of a half-truth.
Kehtal’s eyes widened. “Then you must go to the shinara and tell…”
Hand tightening on his velkat, Slengral snapped his wings, whipping in the air toward the male in an unspoken threat that had Daskh stiffening.
“I said no,” he snarled.
Kehtal jerked away, rousing a momentary sense of guilt. Slengral had never pressed dominance over either of the males before, especially not Kehtal, who never offered violence toward anyone.
He sighed. “My apologies, Kehtal. I must go hunt now. Spread the word regarding the humans until I can find a solution that does not involve me laying in anyone’s coils.”
Kehtal flicked his gavo silently, and Daskh echoed the gesture, both pairs of eyes watching him as Slengral shot up the shaft.
As expected, the mouth of Aglatha was a ruin. Crushed metal lay to waste everywhere. The mouth itself was completely blocked with rubble. He was barely able to slide between the fallen rocks to access an upper tunnel leading from a narrow rear exit. Not so narrow that he couldn’t clear it comfortably, but it told him just how much devastation had been wrought, even more than the many collapsed tunnels twisted with long bent metal frames.
Darting out into the cool night air, Slengral inhaled deep and exhaled, forcing the dust from his lungs as he looked around. There was fallen and broken metal everywhere. Some of it had even fallen across the strange metal path that ran into the distance. He was certain that this went directly to the dome of the humans that his mate spoke of, but he regarded it with little interest.
It would be many waking cycles before the way was clear to bring his mate up, so the humans would be a concern for another night.
Gliding over the sands, Slengral keen eyes took in every movement under the light of the moons. He enjoyed the hunt as the soft musk of the jalhana blooms that grew low in the sands and bloomed only at night to feed the ground-nesting barlisks. The buzz of a small swarm met his ears. Normally, he would be tempted to follow them with interest in finding the nest to liberate some of their nectar, but he dismissed them in favor of something more filling for his mate.
The moon glinted off sleek fur on a burrowing dantha. Its four ears moved in several directions at once as it crept forward.
Slengral dropped, his tail coiling around its hind quarters as he stabbed one end of his velkat through the dantha’s neck, delivering a quick death. He knew of some males who liked to hunt in the old ways, using their coils to suffocate and break the bones of the prey and their claws to rend it as they fed. Slengral considered those methods to be cruel and unnecessary unless one had no choice. The clean kill was so much better.
Making quick work of cleaning his prey, he searched for another and then a third. Only when he was confident that he had plenty to feed them did he drop back into the Aglatha. He was glad that neither Kehtal nor Daskh offered any conversation nor attempted to waylay him as he passed. He was eager to return to his Lori and feed her well.