Chapter Four

His fighting blood was for the first time in a million years. For whatever reason, the sight of this small native in peril had set it ablaze. Sular raced across the snowdrifts, his large black feet making sizable impressions in the hard crust, melting and evaporating ageless frost. He threw himself behind the wounded gryphon, legs spread, wings mantled, covering it. Crest erect all the way over his white cere, Sular screamed at the colddrake.

The lumbering beast drew back, actually startled. Its huge craggy head with bulging eyes lifted and jerked. Sular screamed again, making the very snow rattle with its intensity, for a Phoenix voice is nothing to ignore.

Within the protective circle of giant pinions, Ziara cowered, shivering from blood loss and terror. She felt the ground shudder as the huge feet stamped on either side of her very small body. One of the toes brushed her injured flank and Ziara curled further into herself, whimpering.

Again and again, Sular shrieked, hoping that the battlecry alone would disinterest the 'drake. Spittle frothed on his white beak, giving the appearance that it was bubbling.

"Vostokch! Begone!"

The 'drake was no coward; it could smell the blood of its prey under the powerful alien scent. Hunger and lust for the warm life force overrode all caution. Screaming, it charged, tearing up frozen turf.

Sular tensed, unprepared for an attack. The warrior blood so devoid in his veins bubbled forth in double-time, coursing anew, filling his massive heart. Adrenaline aplenty heightened all his senses. Like a clap of thunder, out came the huge expanse of wings, wingclaws pointed forward. He leapt, meeting the colddrake halfway, setting claws and beak into the vulnerable joints. Shocked, the ice denizen tried as hard as it could to grab hold of the Phoenix, but it gained no purchase. Phoenixian warcollar magic prevented him, giving Sular control -- full and total control.

Over they tumbled, Sular bound to its back. Ziara watched in horror as it seemed the colddrake would crush her would-be savior. But Sular stood unscathed. As the beast struggled to rise, down flashed the large beak and into the woodlands rang the unheard deathcry of a colddrake.

"Who -- ?"

She swung her head up, paws scrambling on the stone floor. A huge crested visage emerged into the firelight, flamelets dancing among the tri-colored plumage. Behind the white beak, whatever passed for eyes were closed. The eyelids were strangely canted, pointed in the middle.

The isolationist in her blood alerted her that this creature was not native of Glacial Prime. But he--she--it--saved my life, she amended, hooking a claw into the deer haunch. Although it sounded foolish, Ziara said it anyway: "Thank you," she told the closed eyes. "I would be dead for sure."

A slow, eerie smile lit the avian's face; even without the eyes open, Ziara knew it to be melancholy and sad. The crest dipped once in acquiescence, huge wings rustled. Shuffling on the floor, it gestured with a large wingclaw. Ziara frowned, bit of deer protruding from her mouth.

"What? What is it?"

Again, the same gesture. Then it hit her -- the avian wanted her to continue talking! Ripping off another part of the meat, she obliged between bites. Her strange savior remained silent the whole time as she babbled nonsense, head tipped curiously to the side, crest flicking now and again; under the eyelids, movement.

Sular hung onto every word of the gryphon's language, his complex brain taking in everything and filing it away. Automatic translations were under way, making adjustments and compromises that he'd later fill in through more communication with the native. After a while, he was sufficiently satisfied that he needed nothing more. Setting his brain accordingly, he spoke in the Glacial gryphon language.

"I never properly introduced myself, did I?"

Ziara's eyes went wide, pupils contracting to mere pinpoints, all amber orbs. Blood drained from her face, streaking her pelt an unhealthy shade. The chunk of meat in her mouth dropped to the floor with a wet squelch.

"H-h-how?"

Sular's beak quirked momentarily. It was odd, some part of him observed, to be so at ease and content with this alien female. "A long story, but I assure you, Lady, I mean you no harm. My name is Sular Ventrishika, Reconn soldier for the Vahazayi."

"Z-ziara. Ziara Flurrith, scout." Midnight blue pelt ruffled, the white markings stark in the firelight. "Are -- are you blind?"

"No, I am not, Lady. I keep my eyes closed for a very good reason." Damn you, Sular, he thought, what is wrong with you!?

Ears flicking forward with piqued interest, Ziara stared at the Vahazayan's face, so like her own people's structure. "Why?"

"It has been long documented that sentients fear our eyes. That they are scared. I do this out of courtesy for your wounds."

This puzzled Ziara. She touched her own eyeridges with a dexterous paw. What could be so horrific about eyes? She could handle such a simple matter -- why, after facing the colddrake, she could face anything! Reaching out, she touched the Vahazayi's lowered face, mobile claws tracing over the lids. "May I see?"

Tremors flew through Sular's body at her gentleness. Something tugged at his loins for the first time in his life.

Suddenly, she was staring into a gaze of complete grey. Giant diamond-shaped eyes of slate, pulsing in time to the heart of the fire. Twin white glints looked right at her -- right through her. She scree'd and backpedaled, injuries protesting. Right over the small fire she went, dry bandages going instantly up in flames.

Eyes wide in horror, Sular dove in, sweeping in, plucking her up by the scruff, mentally commanding the termination of the flames. He swung Ziara around, bracing her hind legs with his wingclaws. With a bound, he heaved her into the snow.

"That's twice in one day," Ziara muttered, examining her pink skin.

Sular removed the poultice and tucked away the herbal satchel that he kept in his larger pouch. "Are all your people so accident-prone?"

"You'd think that by looking at me." It finally hit Ziara that she was dealing with a true alien and not a native of Glacial Prime's vast tundra plains. He might speak her tongue and bear resemblance to her people, but he was from out there. How many more were there? How did he come to Glacial Prime in the first place?

Sular shrugged his huge wings. "I did warn you. But, it is also partly my fault." He shuffled. "I would appreciate it if you took me to your clan tomorrow. I must meet with your leaders."

Ziara flicked her tufted ears noncommitally. She didn't want to think about what Tyan would say, or what the clan warriors would do. They had more, now that Tyan had allied himself with Callock Surnith's clan, marrying Callock's only daughter. And with Callock in a downward spiral of health, Tyan virtually held both until they would merge upon Callock's death. Tyan -- still ambitious as ever!

"I need an answer."

Ziara jerked her chin up, amber eyes meeting Sular's grey ones. He was so much larger than she, so much stronger . . . "Yes, I'll take you."

The white crest flicked once over the Phoenix's cere. She seemed unusually subdued, in the short time that he had known her. "My thanks."