Free The Broken World Book One - Children of Another God by T C Southwell

him made him whip around just as strong hands grabbed him
and dragged him off the path. Surprised, he swung to face his
attacker and found himself nose to snout with a Shamarese predator.
The beast released him and stepped back, its sinuous torso curving
as it dropped to all fours. Its large grey eyes slid away from his,
and it spoke in its fluting language.
    "No harm,
Mujar. Bad things come along path."
    Its speech was
rudimentary and rather crude, but perhaps the translation mangled
it. In his present form, Chanter knew he lacked a full
understanding of his fellow creature's speech. The rainbow-hued
predator watched him, awaiting his response. A long, graceful neck,
whose mane of delicate transparent fronds drifted when it moved,
supported its triangular head, and sharp white teeth filled its
rather inflexible mouth. Its hands, now in service as forefeet, had
long delicate fingers tipped with sharp white claws. The last two
digits were bent back to support the leading edge of a filmy wing
membrane that joined its abdomen halfway along its length. The
wings looked inefficient, and were. The predator could fly, but
only by commanding Ashmar. Unlike Trueman beasts, the creatures of
Shamarese did not rely on physical design, they commanded their
world as he did.
    Chanter raised
his hand, palm up, and replied in the predator's language, "No
harm. What things use the path?"
    The predator
glanced past him. "Creatures of this world. Small, but
annoying."
    Chanter
followed the predator's gaze. Thousands of the crab-like creatures
scuttled along the path in single file, moving at a remarkable
speed, their bony wings rustling. Their bright, orange and burnt
umber shells glistened in the fading light, and bubbles frothed
from their jaws.
    "Where are they
going?" Chanter asked.
    "To the plasma
sea."
    "Why?"
    "To feed. First
time in this Lake, Mujar?"
    Chanter nodded,
unashamed of his ignorance. "Have you been in many?"
    "Lots."
    "I'd like to
see this plasma sea. Is it dangerous?"
    The predator
snorted musically and shook its head. "This is the Lake of Renewal.
Nothing is dangerous to us here. The plants feed on the animals,
which eat the plasma sea, but they don't like the taste of us."
    The predator's
speech was improving, either with practice, or because Chanter was
becoming used to it.
    "I'd like to
see it," he said.
    The predator
turned and walked away with a graceful, sinuous motion, rather like
a four-legged snake. This was because its torso was longer than its
legs, and it used that to lengthen its strides. The beast would not
have a name, so Chanter decided to call it Nog, for his own
reference. He also had no idea of the predator's sex. Shamarese
creatures showed no outward signs of gender, since they lacked any
form of external organs.
    Chanter was
disinclined to enquire on such a delicate matter, so opted to think
of Nog as male. Nog wound his way through the strange plants,
giving some a wider berth than others, and Chanter followed his
lead. The world darkened as the moon swallowed the sun, and stars
glimmered. Chanter gazed up at the amazing galaxy that filled this
sky. A vast, sprawling nebula of young suns spiralled in an orgy of
stellar creation. The stars were so thick that at the centre they
made up a solid mass of white light.
    As they walked,
Nog explained, "The little shelled ones only make their journey to
feed at eclipse, which happens every day. At this time, the plants
are less vigilant, so it's safer. They feed, then return to their
burrows in a rock cliff."
    "Why don't they
fly?"
    "They can't.
They've lost the ability."
    "Why not travel
at night?"
    Nog glanced
back. "It's too dangerous. Many of the deadlier plants become
active at night. Eclipse is the safest time."
    "Are there no
intelligent creatures here?"
    "Not animals,
no. They're just mobile plant food, and if any of the plants are
intelligent, we have no way of communicating with them."
    Chanter shook
his head in wonder. "What manner of god would create