Big Damn Magic (Misplaced Mercenaries Book 3) by Kevin Pettway

Author:Kevin Pettway [Pettway, Kevin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781951445171
Publisher: Cursed Dragon Ship Publishing
Published: 2021-01-05T05:00:00+00:00

26

NOT SO PLAIN PLAINS FISH

SARAH

From the top of the hillock where they made camp, Sarah and Grohann stared openmouthed in the night at the lines of multicolored fire that stretched across the Paras Plains.

Cassius stared at Sarah.

They were four days west and past the Chillroad, the river that separated the Paras Plains from Coldspine, and had been obliged to turn a bit more southerly to skirt the pine woods that surrounded the southern feet of the Bitter Heights. Streams and ponds crisscrossed the northern plains with the runoff out of the mountains, and these were now the spawning grounds of adult flickerfish come home to breed.

Flickerfish were known as duns around much of the world and were big, tasty, and numerous, as well as easy to catch. In all the oceans of the world, they were ordinary fish. But once a year, the duns would swim back up into the freshwater streams of their birth to spawn. Something in the fish’s bodies reacted to the milky mineral-laden waters coming off the Heights and created a bright glow, blue for females and green for males. This was how the flickerfish found each other in the opaque water to mate, and they lit the streams and ponds of the Paras Plains in a brilliant display known as the fire runs. Everywhere across the night ran streaks of bright blue-green water, shimmering and moving under a star-filled sky. Sarah leaned against the troll, and they both stood and watched.

“It’s amazing,” Sarah whispered.

Grohann nodded. “This is a very beautiful thing.”

“You know, in Tyrrane, everyone stays indoors during the runs. They think the nights are evil, and the dead walk.” While Sarah had never spent any real time in Tyrrane, she had served for years in Wallace’s Company with men from every corner of the Thirteen Kingdoms. An attentive and curious woman, she reckoned she knew plenty about her world.

It wasn’t the same as seeing it though.

“Hm,” responded Grohann.

“But in Coldspine, the runs are the first night of Bedwinter. They feast and drink and have lots of sex for an entire week. So, they’re pretty happy to see the runs come.”

“I think I like Coldspine’s holiday better. Though maybe it is more similar than not, yes? Vat do yoo think Tyrraneans are up to ven they are hiding in their houses for a week?”

“I hate to disturb this reverie,” Cassius said, “but we are not alone out here.”

Sarah dropped into a crouch, her muscular legs ready to spring. Soundlessly she pulled her broadsword from its sheath. Beside her, Grohann strung his huge troll bow, lifted it, and nocked an arrow.

“There is no need for yoo to kill us, I think,” shouted a voice from the dark. It was a troll’s voice, like Grohann’s but softer. “Ve are here to help. Ghost Eye has sent us.”

Grohann lowered his bow and grinned wide to display a fearsome set of sharp teeth. “Finnlaug? Is that yoo?”

A big shape stepped up out of the dark to the top of the little hill.

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