Here Be Monsters - By M T Murphy Page 0,14

it, and touched a second strand that was intimately connected to the first. It was a bright rose colour. Together, the two were like a fiery sunrise. “I see a dozen such strands, Ruygret. Each more beautiful than the last. I must have it for the warchief.”

“The warchief has many soul-orbs.”

Krel grew impatient. “You want me to give him that one?” He thrust his green finger toward the muddy orb in the corner. “My guts would decorate the floor before I could say a word. That,” he said, indicating the pet, “is the soul of a princess.”

“You have a large collection. Give him one of yours. He’d never know the difference.”

“He would know, Ruygret.”

“How?”

Krel glanced up angrily. How could Ruygret not see the beauty in front of her? “I would know.” He pointed to the writhing form on his table. “This is a soul worthy of our clan leader. Do you not believe him worthy of honour?”

“And do you not consider your promise to me worthy of honour? I said I would look, and I did. Yes, the soul is beautiful. But it is more beautiful within the creature. I will make her the envy of all. She is fierce, and she is mine. Find another for the war chief.”

“There is no other,” Krel said, his eyes transfixed on the dancing wisps emanating from the pet. “This is the one I must have.”

“Father, no. You promised.”

Krel ignored his daughter, beginning his work. He chanted, and the soul strands rose up, first one, then another. They swirled in the air in front of him.

“You lied to me. You care nothing for me, and you never have,” Ruygret screamed at him, but he was deaf to her. “This is the only thing I’ve ever asked you for, the only joy in my life, and you would take it from me?”

She beat her green fists against him, but he barely noticed. Couldn’t she see? He would make it up to her. He would buy her that legion, but the warchief must have a worthy soul.

“I will never forgive you,” Ruygret cried, finally spent and exhausted. Krel’s mind barely registered even the sound of the slamming door.

For two days he worked. He could not stop to eat or rest, or the intricate configuration of filaments would be unwoven. The glass-like enchantment swelled as he filled it from the pet’s body until it was wider than his shoulders. Any larger, and he would not be able to fit it through the door. He continued working the magic over the slack-jawed and drooling body on the table. It moaned, but he ignored it. Hyug always cleaned up after Krel’s work. The servant would do the kind thing and cut the humans’ throats before dumping the fleshy waste. Krel saw no reason to be cruel.

This, Krel knew, would be his masterpiece, the work by which all other reavers would be judged. He spoke the final words, and watched the gold, red, and blue filaments flying inside their glassy home. Unlike any other work he’d completed before, this was like molten fire, like the birth of a universe. No adornments or glaze was required. It was breathtaking to behold.

He cast the enchantment to hold the globe in the air, and stepped around his table. He had no idea what time of day or night it was, nor did he care. The warchief would not mind being interrupted for this.

Propelling it ahead of him through the air as he walked, Krel made his way up into the house and down to the streets. Pride swelled as he heard the gasps from the few passers-by. The word must have gone out ahead of him, but he didn’t hurry. He kept his eye on the orb, and others formed a procession with him, escorting him to the stronghold’s audience chamber.

His growing exhaustion loomed as he placed it high above the fire, and a murmur spread all around him. There must have been a crowd of at least a hundred there now. Only once the piece was mounted in its place of honour did Krel meet the eyes of the warchief. The clan leader stood and inclined his head to Krel, slowly placing his fist over his heart. “I told you it would be magnificent,” he said, and the crowd cheered.

There would be a feast in his honour, he vaguely heard the clan leader proclaim. Now that he’d released the orb, the price of such magic took its toll, and Krel staggered