Beyond the Moons Read Online Free PDF Page B

last. “And what, by the Queen herself, is that?” Liam stammered, pointing at Teldin’s hog-tied prisoner.
    Teldin swallowed, his mouth parched. “That is a giff – I think. At least that’s what he said he was,” he answered hoarsely.
    “A giff?” A dazed Liam mulled over the name, readily accepting Teldin’s answer. “But – but, what happened to your farm, boy?”
    Teldin didn’t answer. He instead looked over Liam’s shoulder toward the blazing ruin that had been his cabin. Slowly he realized it was all gone – the cabin his grandfather had built, his father’s stone chimney, even the porch he’d built with his own hands.
    “What’s going on here, Teldin? Draconians do this?” Liam asked in a gentler voice as he saw his young friend’s hollow stare.
    Teldin snorted at the suggestion, Liam being so naively wrong. He shook his head. “I don’t really know, but …”
    *****
    By the time Teldin finished his tale, the sun had cleared the eastern horizon. Liam sat cross-legged in the dirt, listening carefully the whole time. When Teldin got to the part describing the giffs attack, Liam shifted to where he could keep one eye on the prisoner. Teldin’s body sagged as he finished, and he noisily drank the water Liam offered.
    “It’s quite a story, Tel. If I hadn’t seen it, I would’ve called you the damnedest liar in all the valley – by the Abyss, all of Kalaman. Flying ships, monsters, and dead wizards! I don’t think ships are meant to fly,” Liam offered sincerely.
    “There were the flying citadels of the dragonarmies,” Teldin pointed out. “You never saw them, but those were big hunks of rock with castles on them. They weren’t supposed to fly either, but I saw one doing it at the battle of Kalaman.”
    “But things like that don’t land on your farm!” Liam protested. “It’s not natural.”
    Teldin mournfully looked at the remains of his cabin. The fires were finally starting to go out for lack of tinder. His house was a broken, smoking shell. Most of the larger logs were not split by the crash, but were charred black. The roof and everything else were gone. Most of the ship’s planking had burned or fallen away, leaving the framing ribs like black bones thrusting out of the earth. A few hunks of the deck clung precariously to the frame, giving some indication of the ship’s original form.
    “It doesn’t matter whether they fly or not. This one did,” Teldin sadly commented.
    “What’ll you do now, Teldin?” Liam asked, following Teldin’s gaze. “If you want, the valley folk could gather up and help you out.
    The melon crop was destroyed, the house crushed, the chickens and geese lost. Even the goat had disappeared. Teldin tried not to sound defeated. “I do not know, Liam. I just do not know. Maybe I am not meant to be a farmer. Maybe it’s a sign from the gods.” Teldin rubbed at his short-cropped hair, brushing away a new layer of dirt and ash. “Damn it, Liam, things seemed to be going so well!” he burst out. “Crops were good. It was peaceful here. I thought, for once, maybe my life could be happy – after the war and all Teldin’s voice stopped in a knot of frustration and anger.
    Liam awkwardly laid a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Look, we’ll just spread the word around. You’ve got friends here. The Stanish boys, the Harnweilers, even Lur Dal would come help. Things’ll be back to normal in no time. I’ve rebuilt from fires, too.” Teldin nodded numbly, letting Liam plan.
    Behind the old farmer, the giff’s gray-blue bulk slowly stirred. He gave a deep rumbling groan, rolled to his side, and tried to get up. The creature flopped back to the ground, suddenly aware of his bindings. Teldin couldn’t be sure, but he had guessed from the sounds the thing made that it was male.
    Liam scuttled away from the brute at its first movements. What’ll you do about that?” he whispered to Teldin, nodding toward the giff.
    As an answer,