Dragoncrest Cliffs Deep End

Njord drew closer, voice soft. Swordfish looked at his father without knowing what to say. There was understanding in the features of the scarred man. He gazed down at the resting boy as though he knew precisely what his son felt.

Trying to think back to the day it had happened was difficult. Swordfish didn’t remember many things. He remembered trudging through the snow until his legs felt stiff and awkward. He could remember thinking that he and Quennell were going to die out there, frozen together like two bloody ice pops. When he tried to think of the bear, how it had appeared, what they had done…

Swordfish’s features fell. They had been talking about girls. It had been a normal conversation, like every other day. Quen had a crush one some girl named Lyla, or the redtail thought that was her name.

We were just talkin’… and then it came up behind Quen like- Swordfish’s silver-flecked eyes were fixed on distant darkness. I ain’t ever seen nothin’ like that, da. I never. And Que- He yelled somethin’ funny. Yelled Shardik just before it hit me.

Shardik! Run!

Swordfish could remember being flung through the air and knocked against stone, like a ragdoll. He remembered the fathomless darkness of those eyes.