The Legend of Vanx Malic: Book 02 - Dragon Isle by M. R. Mathias Page B

meant to be so stern, but the truth was that most beasts could see better at night than he, or a full-blooded Zyth. Darbon probably wouldn’t even be able to warn them if more tree orcs came charging in at them. Vanx started to apologize but decided to let his words sink into the young man’s head. He also felt that he was forgetting something, but couldn’t quite figure out what it was. What he did tell Darbon was, “Help Trevin stoke that fire after you wake him. That blaze alone will ward off more creatures than all of our steel combined.” Vanx remembered those very words coming from one of the lesson masters of his youth, but before he could put a face to the voice, he fell asleep.

    “Up up up!” Trevin yelled. “Something’s out there, a lot of somethings!”
    “What is it?” Yandi asked as he fumbled out of his bedroll.
    “I’m up. I’m trying,” Darbon managed before falling to the ground when his boots caught in his blanket.
    “Where?” Zeezle hissed, trying to quiet them. “Point to where you see it.” Trevin did so. Zeezle let out a low whistle of amazement. “Start building up that fire, quickly now,” he ordered. Vanx was still sleeping and the Zythian was sure he could see a lot more than Trevin was seeing. He didn’t want to scare them.
    “Why does Vanx have his ass exposed like that?” Yandi asked.
    Zeezle ventured a glance at his longtime friend. “It’s a heathen thing,” he jested, but there was no mirth in his voice. Where Trevin saw a few pairs of eyes, he was seeing scores of them.
    “I’ve seen four of the creatures moving around out there,” Trevin said. “They’re low to the ground. I thought they were varmints at first, but they’re too big. They haven’t come any closer, but I hear them moving about.”
    “There’s a lot more than four of them,” Zeezle said. He could see at least two dozen sets of eyes. “They aren’t braving the fire, and I can’t quite tell what they are.”
    “They’re too low to the ground to be wolves, but that’s how they move,” Yandi commented.
    “What does a seaman know about wolves?” Trevin asked.
    “I was born to a shepherd in lower Harthgar,” Yandi informed them. “I know as much about wolves as I know about the sea.”
    “Then why aren’t they attacking?” This came from Darbon in a whisper.
    “Because our voices are scaring them, lad,” Yandi said loudly. “Quit whispering or they’ll attack us.”
    “Oh, I understand!” Darbon yelled, causing a few of the creatures to blink and dart away. Yandi burst out laughing.
    “They do move like wolves,” Zeezle agreed. “Or maybe wild dogs.”
    “That would explain why they are so low to the ground,” Trevin agreed. “Probably wild dogs.”
    “Give me some of that dried meat,” Zeezle ordered Darbon. The boy gave him a piece and he tossed it out of the fire’s light to a point that was still within the limits of his vision. Sure enough a dog slunk in and snatched up the morsel. “They are dogs,” Zeezle confirmed. “But they aren’t barking or frisking around, or doing what most dogs do.”
    “Barking probably attracts the tree orcs,” Trevin said.
    “Or the dragons,” added Darbon.
    “Why is Vanx’s arse exposed like that?” Yandi asked again.
    “Enough about Vanx,” Zeezle snapped. “I’ve heard about what you seamen do after you have been out for too long.”
    “Ewww,” Darbon groaned.
    “Well I’ve never done such a thing,” Yandi protested. “I just wanna know why he has his ass up in the air.”
    “Then why are you still staring at it?” Trevin asked from the other side of the camp.
    “I’m not.”
    Only Vanx and Darbon could sleep after that. The others were kept awake by nervousness and Yandi’s continuous protests that he hadn’t been staring at Vanx’s arse.
    Not long before dawn the curious sets of eyes slowly disappeared, and by sunrise the companions were alone in the small, rocky clearing.

    “It’s been burned to