Page 108 of Of Serpents and Ruins
I released the water serpent form as well. My dress started to fling off this time, but it didn’t vanish at least. Clutching it in place, I stared at the two. "Arjax? Lorna?"
The dark-orange spinosaurus’s amber eyes widened. She dropped forward, her form collapsing into a powerful woman’s shape.
Unlike me, she had no difficulties maintaining not only her clothing but the intricate beads and feathers in her hair and bracelets and bracers on her wrists. She was seven feet tall with a muscular yet feminine build, wearing leather and cotton in all shades of brown and ecru. Her deep-brown skin had reddish undertones mirrored in her red-black eyes and contrasted with her golden-brown hair. An intricate silver cuff marked her left ear—a lithok, a piece of jewelry that marked her expertise in shifting.
Lorna.
Yes, of course.
The dark-red spinosaurus dropped, becoming a man who was easily seven feet tall, perhaps seven and a half. His thick hair was bound back in multiple braids, woven with great care, leather thongs securing it in place. His dark eyes glittered, sharp and insightful against his dark olive-brown skin. He also had feathers tied and stuck at random in his hair, as if he had just put them in there rather than having had to shift and reform with all these little details.
Arjax.
How could I ever have forgotten these two?
Before I could do anything more than gawk, Lorna stooped down, her face almost directly in mine. "Crespa, look! It’s Stella! Lookit her!" The enormous woman seized me up like a rag doll and spun me around, laughing.
I gasped, laughed, and nearly collapsed as she set me down. I’d barely caught my balance when Arjax grabbed me in an even tighter bear hug.
"You’re back, girl!" His deep voice boomed in my ear, louder than Buttercup’s bellows. He set me down on the ridge and slapped me on the back so hard I nearly fell off. "And you don’t look a day over—is it sixty? Seventy?" He cast a helpless look to Lorna who was busy hugging and manhandling Kine. "Well,whatever your age is, you haven’t changed since the last time we saw you. Where’s that veskare of yours? Did you come alone?"
Veskare. I recognized that word. It was their word for their mate. The most beloved of all.
I set my hands on my waist and nodded, trying to catch my breath. "Brandt is in Castle Serpentfire, but he sends his best." I noticed them glancing at Elias. "And this is Elias. He’s a friend of ours and one of the main reasons I’m back."
"I already know who you are," Elias said, stepping forward as he offered his hand. "I’d rather not be picked up and shaken if that’s all right."
Laughing good-naturedly, Arjax seized Elias’s hand in a strong grip. "Fair enough. Good to meet you. You’re an Ogniskoan who fights with an oak quarterstaff and smells of cedar." His brow twitched. "And your hair is in a single color?" He glanced between Elias and me.
Elias gave a small smile and then lifted the binding on his arm. "Life debt to Stella. I honor her in her Kropelkian traditions."
I hadn’t thought about that aspect of him. But now that he mentioned it, I realized he was right. Most—maybe almost all?—Ogniskoans dyed portions of their hair while Kropelkians did not. And once that had been a source of great dispute between us. I cleared my throat, shaking my head before I could get distracted. "And I am deeply grateful to both Elias and Kine for their kindness and faithfulness to me. But this isn’t a social visit, I’m afraid."
"It isn’t?" Arjax asked, his heavy brow lifting.
Kine hung limply in Lorna’s arms, half sliding out of his outer robe. "You can set me down any time, darling."
Lorna raised her eyebrow and shifted positions so she held him bridal style. "You prefer it this way, baby blue?"
"Much better." He gave her a thin smile then crossed his arms. "But you should listen to Stella. This is important."
I nodded, their eyes burning into me now. All had fallen silent. "I am so sorry, but we have come for the spear. We need it as soon as possible so that we can return and destroy the Gola Resh’s power."
"The spear?" Arjax folded his arms over his barrel of a chest, the feathers in his hair rustling in the wind. Lines furrowed his brow. "The one you and Brandt gave us in tribute of service or the one for spearing electric bog eels?"
"Tribute of service, I think. Whichever one is the one made from a third of the Babadon’s heart." I winced. Recollection told me that Lorna and Arjax were difficult to offend, but something in the way they looked at one another and the tension in their posture alarmed me. "Please," I said, extending my hands. "It is no insult to either of you. We are grateful for all that you have done for our people, for giving us the gift of our shifting, but we desperately need it so that—"
Arjax held up his hand with a sharp snap of his wrist as he shook his head. "There is no offense given or taken. The spear is yours, little cousin. The only problem is…we don’t have it."
My heart sank. It was as if someone had struck every member of our group.
Elias staggered back, falling against Buttercup. "That’s not possible," he whispered, his eyes white-rimmed. "You must—you must have it! Everything will fail without it."
Arjax shook his head, his long thick braids swaying with the movement. "Now, now, not all hope is lost. We just have to get it back. It’s here in the Wild Lands, probably not even that far. It’s just we lost it in our last scuffle. If it means saving you and Brandt and the rest of our little cousins, mark our words, we’ll find it. It’ll just take some time."
"Time is the one thing we don’t have," I said, my voice shaking. "We’ve only got a few more cycles before Brandt is lost forever. Please. Tell me you know where it is."
Arjax and Lorna exchanged glances.
