Here Be Monsters - By M T Murphy Page 0,12

his head with disappointment. The creature’s soul was simple, plain, uninteresting. Worse than that, it was unworthy. He sighed.

“There is a problem?” the warchief asked.

“I do not think this subject will yield an adornment worthy of your hall.”

The warchief’s fist banged against the arm of his throne. “It is a princess. It is adored above all other humans. It is my prize,” he shouted.

“It is ugly,” Krel said, looking deeper, hoping against hope his first inspection would have proved wrong.

“Of course it is ugly,” the warchief grumbled. “It is human. It’s the soul orb I want.” He paused. “Eight thousand crescents.”

Krel glanced up. Eight thousand was ten times more than he’d been paid for his best piece. He could see the warchief was determined to have his way. Krel would have to do it. He could extract and preserve such a simple soul in less than an hour, but he had to find a way to craft it into a piece worthy of the clan leader. “I need four days,” he said, looking at the frail pink creature in front of him.

“Good!” The warchief bellowed a laugh. “Take the human to my reaver’s work chamber.” To Krel, he added in a low voice, “A delegation from the Grem clan will be here in three days. I want the orb ready before they arrive.” His eyes glowed yellow, and his teeth bared into a menacing smile. “For eight thousand crescents, I expect miracles.”

Krel thumped his fist to his chest and lowered his eyes with respect. But his thoughts were tortured and dark. He didn’t know how he could deliver what was required, but he had no choice. The last one to disappoint the clan leader ended up hanging on a row of spikes while ravens picked at his body for the five days it took him to die.

The guard dragged the human behind Krel, and they walked together in silence to his workshop in the lower floor of his home. The guard waited until Krel strapped the subject to a stone table in the centre of the room before taking her leave. Krel stared at the tangled mess of humanity and sighed. His divining rod in hand, he ran it over the princess’ body again, looking at the pathetic, simple, muddy soul. He didn’t know where to begin.

A screech like that of a demon harpy startled him out of his reverie. It came from above. Ruygret.

Krel left the unconscious human and ran up the stairs. His daughter was the only thing that kept him from becoming completely lost in his own mind. If anything happened to her…

The thought was lost as soon as he got to her chamber door.

In the corridor stood Ruygret, holding a chain. At the end of the chain was a collared, naked, well-muscled human female. Ruygret had a pointed stick in her right hand and the leash in her left. The human had several small gashes and thin welts on its back and thighs, and it paced back and forth like a caged panther.

“What in the name of Brogdell are you doing?” Krel roared.

“This is my new pet. Remember, father? We talked about it earlier,” Ruygret said with a tone seemingly full of patience.

“A human?” Krel stood stunned. This was worse than a werecat cub. “But…what’s wrong with another wolf?”

“Father, I’m not twelve any more. Humans are more intelligent than wolves. Pryshaq has one that can dance, but mine will be even better. Watch.” She put the stick in a loop at her waist and clapped her hands. The human’s attention snapped to her immediately.

“Up!” she said sharply.

The human eyed her warily, but stood upright.

“Good. Now flip!” Ruygret gave a quick hand signal.

It hesitated only a second before leaning forward and touching the ground. Krel stared in amazement as it shifted its balance and put its feet in the air. It kept its balance admirably for a moment before toppling back to an upright position. It looked at Ruygret hopefully, and she smiled and petted it affectionately. “It took me four weeks to get it to do that well,” she said with pride.

The sweet moment was ruined, however, when the human lunged for Ruygret’s training stick. Fortunately, she got the creature under control with a sharp yank on the leash and a hiss. “I still have a lot of work to do,” she said apologetically. “But, father, it’s wonderful. So smart and adaptable. It’s a spirited beast, but we have a connection. I can feel it. It