Kell's Legend

could not believe what she was seeing. She could not comprehend the hatred emanating from her sister. She did not understand.
    Vashell ran his hand down Shabis’s flank, stroking her, and said, softly, “Kill her, Shabis. Kill Anukis.”
    Growling, Shabis ejected claws and fangs with tiny slithers of steel and brass. She dropped to a crouch, and moved around the bed, eyes narrowed and fixedon her sister, face full of hatred, her tongue licking lips in the anticipation of fresh blood…
    “No,” said Anu, voice near hysteria. “Shabis! Don’t do this! Vashell lies!”
    “Spoken just like an impure,” snapped Shabis, and with a feral vachine snarl, leapt at her lifeblood.

SIX
Toxic Blood
    Kell tensed as the canker lowered its head, muscles rigid, a low metal buzzing growl coming from its wide open head and loose flapping jaws; and he stared into that wide open maw, stared into those eyes and shuddered as his past life—and more importantly, more hauntingly, the Days of Blood—flashed through his mind and he felt regret and self-loathing, and a despair that he hadn’t put things right, hadn’t found forgiveness and sanctuary from others, and more importantly, for himself…
    The canker howled, rearing up. More dust and stones flew, fell, pouring from the destroyed ceiling. A huge cross-member dropped, clunking against the canker which hit the ground under huge weight, snarling and snapping, and through the falling dust Kell saw Saark, his blade buried deep in the canker’s flank and Saark screamed, “The roof’s coming down! We’ve got to get out!”
    Kell nodded, slammed his axe into the canker’s head with a thud which brought another bought of thrashing and snarling, then he squeezed around theedges of the wall and sprinted, as more stones and timber toppled around him, diving out of the doorway and hitting the snow on his belly with a violent exhalation of air. Behind, the cottage screamed like a wounded beast, shaking its head in agony; and the roof caved in.
    Saark was there, black with dust, dragging Kell to his feet. “I don’t think it will stop the bastard.”
    Kell took a deep breath. Snow drifted around him, like ash in the night. He turned, staring at the cottage which seemed to rise, then settle, a great dying bear. For a second it was still, then somewhere deep within started to shift and stones, rubble, timber, all started to move and rise and Saark was already running towards the shingle beach and the boat, where Nienna and Kat urged them on. Kell followed, wincing at pains in his ribs, his shoulder, his head, his knees, and he felt suddenly old, and weary, battered and bettered, and he stumbled down onto the shingle as behind them, with a terrible sadistic roar the canker emerged from the detritus in a shower of stones.
    The heavens grumbled, and distantly lightning flickered a web. Thunder growled, a beast in a storm cage behind bars of ignition, and heavy hail pounded the shingle around Kell as he heaved the boat down the beach, axe cleaving the securing rope, and leapt in, rocking the vessel.
    They moved away from the bank, as the canker orientated.
    “It can’t see us,” whispered Saark. “Shh.” He placed a finger on lips.
    As they drifted away, they watched the canker, seemingly confused; then its head lifted, huge open maw searching the skies, and it turned and its head lowered and it charged across cobbles and mud and snow straight in their direction…
    Nienna gave a gasp.
    “It’s fine,” breathed Saark, throat dry with fear. “The river will stop the bastard.”
    The canker reached the edge of the rampant water and without breaking stride leapt, body elongating into an almost elegant, feline dive. It hit the black river, rippled by hailstones, and went under the surface. It was gone immediately.
    Kell stood, rocking the boat, and hefted his axe.
    “Surely not,” snapped Saark, lifting his own blade and peering wildly about their totally vulnerable position.
    “It’s under there,” snarled Kell. “Be ready.”
    Silence fell, like a veil. Hail scattered across the river like pebbles. More thunder rumbled, mountains fighting, and lighting lit the scene through storm clouds and sleet.
    “It was sent, wasn’t it?” said Saark, gazing at the dark river.
    “Yes,” said Kell, eyes searching.
    “How did it find us?”
    “It followed your petal-stench perfume, lad.”
    “Hah! More like the stench from your fish-laden pants.”
    Calm descended.
    They waited,