Free Sea Queen by Michael James Ploof Page B

showed Talon standing in a field beside a hawk three times his size. From across a field, Akkeri ran to him with arms wide, a big smile spread across her face. The tears streaming down her cheeks were formed by shining minerals in the stone rather than paint.
    “It looks like you’ll find her after all,” said Tyson.
    “This isn’t set in stone,” Talon said, but then realized his choice of words. “I mean, no future is certain. We can stop that from happening.”
    Tyson was skeptical. “How?”
    Talon bowed his head as the realization occurred to him. “We should split up…forever. If we aren’t together, I can’t be around when you die.”
    Tyson nodded, conceding the point. “True, but I can still die all the same.”
    “We’re all going to die. But if we aren’t near each other, at least you won’t die like that.”
    They returned to the fire and found it nearly burnt out. Tyson added dried wood and stoked up a roaring blaze as Talon went to skinning the deer with his knife. When the work was done, Tyson quartered it with his sword, and Talon cut fine venison steaks. Chief sat by the fire, contently gnawing on one of the thigh bones.
    Tyson left the cave to gather greenwood for smoking the venison after instructing Talon on how to build a stone cooker. Chief watched with a lazy grin as his master gathered the right sized stones.
    “Go on and look out for Tyson. We still got men after us,” said Talon.
    Chief barked twice and swirled around before shooting through the roof of the cave.
    By the time Talon was finished with the cooker, Tyson had returned with Chief in tow and a big bundle of green branches and leaves.
    In his mouth, Chief too carried a small bundle wrapped with rope.
    “Thanks for sending Chief out with me,” said Tyson. He threw the branches on the ground. “I appreciate it.”
    Talon offered him a nod.
    “Alright. Good job on the smoker—that’ll do just fine.”
    With a piece of bark, Tyson scooped up a big pile of coals from the bottom of the fire and placed them in the cooker. He then sat down and went to work weaving what could have been the bottom of a basket out of green, vine-like branches.
    Talon sat and watched, intrigued. He had seen meat smoked before, but his amma did things a little bit differently.
    Tyson finished his work and placed a handful of green branches across the open top of the smoker. He then laid the weaving over the branches and secured it all in place with a few stones. He nodded to one of the thick pieces of shale which the meat was laid out on, and Talon brought it to him. He carefully arranged it atop the weaving, and then stuffed a handful of green foliage on top of the coals. Instantly a thick grey smoke snaked its way up through the weaving. “We’ll leave this batch half the night and then start another.”
    They settled in and got comfortable around the fire, eating meat they had skewered earlier. The venison was tender and delicious, and reminded Talon just how hungry he had been. His appetite was incredible. He ate five of the steaks to Tyson’s three—even though the other Skomm was a good foot taller than him—and they sat back drinking from their water skins. From his pack Tyson took a pipe and stoked it with a burning branch. The sweet aroma of cherry pipe smoke floated lazily.
    Tyson laughed to himself, shaking his head.
    “What?” Talon asked.
    “What kind of life you must live. Who in the hells are you anyway?”
    Talon shrugged. “I’m just a Skomm, like you.”
    That received a belly laugh.
    “Just a Skomm like me, eh?” Tyson mused. “Just a Skomm with a mystical ghost wolf and a magic ring. And cave paintings dedicated to his life in another country…”
    “Well, when you put it like that...” He wanted to tell Tyson all about Azzeal and his amma Gretzen’s mystical powers, but he still didn’t trust him—he doubted he ever would.
    The cave paintings, he could not explain. He wondered if they were possibly drawn by