CRY OF THE BEAST 
by Ralph T. Castle 
	
	Tomas woke suddenly, with his senses alert and his heart pounding. For a moment there was nothing but the hiss and roar of the surf on the beach outside his bedroom window. But then, once again, he heard the noise that had roused him. It was a high-pitched wail - an inhuman cry rising and falling on the wind.
	He slid silently off the straw mattress, struggled into his boots, breeches, and leather jerkin, and crept to the window. He cupped his hands around his eyes and peered through the tiny panes of hand-blown glass. It was still night outside, but the foam on the waves glowed white, catching the first faint light of dawn.
	Again, the strange cry echoed around the bay. Tomas's skin tingled. He shivered.
	He crept across the rough-hewn boards and opened the door into the other room of the little cabin. He paused and listened. Brodie was lying quietly on his cot beside the hearth. The fire in the grate still smouldered, and the room smelled of wood smoke. In one corner were shelves of dishes and pots and pans above a simple wooden table. In another corner was a washtub. Everything was neat and clean and stowed in its place.
	Tomas crept across the room. Carefully, silently, he lifted the stout oak bar that secured the front door.
	"Tom?" There was a rustle of blankets as Brodie sat up. "What are you doing, there?"
	"I was just - going for a walk."
	"Awalk?" Brodie's voice rose in disbelief.
	Tomas hesitated. "It's almost dawn."
	"But not quite." Brodie lit the oil lamp and struggled out of bed. He was a Halfling, a tubby figure less than four feet tall, with a round, friendly face and a touselled head of hair bleached white by the sun. Muttering to himself, he set about dressing in his usual clothes - a faded blue sailor's jacket, leather breeches, and boots that looked one size too large. A red silk handkerchief was stuffed into his breast pocket, a rusty sword was sheathed at his hip, and an ornamental flint knife hung on a thong around his neck.
	He ambled over to Tomas. "What's your hurry? After breakfast, it'll be light enough to venture out."
	Reluctantly, Tomas let go of the wooden bar. Having just passed his eighteenth birthday, he didn't like being told what to do. "I heard something," he said.
	Brodie put fresh wood on the fire and used leather bellows to fan the flames. He broke eggs into a cast-iron pan, set the pan over the fire, then picked up an old cutlass and sliced a fresh loaf of heavy, dark bread. "I know what you heard." His voice sounded gruff. "I heard it too." He put the bread on a plate, then pointed at Tomas with the cutlass. "I'll wager you don't have the slightest notion what kind of creature would make a sound like that."
	Tomas shrugged. "That's why I wanted to find out." He sat down at the table. "Do you know what it was?"
	Brodie shook his head. "I'd rather not talk about it." He glanced toward the window, then looked quickly away. He slid the eggs out of the frying pan, onto a plate. "Eat your breakfast."
	When Tomas stepped out of the cabin half an hour later, the sun had risen into a clear, pale blue sky. A breeze from the west was raising spray from the white caps of the waves. It was a brisk, bright spring morning.
	Brodie's cabin stood on a wide ledge of rock just twenty feet above high tide, beneath chalk cliffs that formed a shadowy white wall around the bay. The cabin had been built before Tomas was born, using planks salvaged from a shipwreck. He had shared this tiny refuge with Brodie for as long as he could remember.
	Brodie's fishing boat was anchored out in the bay, and a small rowing boat lay on the sand. Tomas started picking his way down the familiar path from the cabin to the beach. It was his job, on most mornings, to take the tarpaulin off the rowing boat and push it out into the surf. Together, he and Brodie would row to the fishing boat, tether the smaller boat to the bigger one, then set sail for the open sea.
	Today, however, the routine was interrupted. Something was lying on the beach where it had washed ashore during the night. At first, as Tomas started toward it, it looked like a sodden bundle of rags. But as he drew closer, he realized that it was far more than that.
	"Brodie!" he shouted. "Come quick!" And he started running, his feet spraying sand.
	It was a body - thin, pale, and frail - wrapped in a cloak soaked with seawater. The arms were stretched out, as if trying to cling to the sand beneath, and the face was turned to one side. As Tomas circled to get a better look, he saw that the features were not human.
	"It's an elf woman!" he shouted, as Brodie came hurrying down from the cabin.
	The Halfling reached the prostrate figure, kneeled, and gingerly touched his finger to the side of her throat. "Seems she's still alive. Help me turn her on her stomach. Quickly, now."
	Methodically, he started moving her arms and massaging her back, forcing seawater out of her lungs. For a long while, there was no sound other than the roar of the surf, the occasional cry of a gull and Brodie's breathing as he worked hard on the unconscious figure. Finally, after Tomas would have been ready to give up, the elf woman stirred. She made feeble choking noises, coughed some water onto the sand, and tried to turn over.
	With gentle strength, Brodie sat her up. "Easy," he said. "You'll be all right, now. Easy."
	She coughed again, then turned toward him, blinking in the sun. "Thank you," she gasped. Her thin, delicate face widened in an attempt at a smile. Tomas saw that she seemed to be just a year or two older than himself. She was deathly pale, her hair was plastered flat to her head, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Even so, she had an exquisite, fragile beauty.
	"Back to the cabin," Brodie said. "You hold her under the arms, Tom, and I'll lift her knees."
	Together, they carried her across the sand. As they started up the path, she looked out at the ocean. "My brother," she said weakly. "Still out there."
	"One thing at a time," said Brodie. He kicked open the door and laid her in front of the hearth. He threw two new logs on the fire, then turned back to her. "We'll wait outside while you get your wet clothes off. Here, dry yourself with this," he gave her a towel, "and then put this on." He handed her a blanket.
	"Where do you think she came from?" Tomas asked, as he and Brodie left the cabin and pulled the door closed behind them.
	The Halfling scanned the ocean. "Shipwreck. See the timbers there, just off the point?" He pulled out his spyglass and peered through it. "Two-masted brigantine. Must have run aground just before dawn. Smashed to pieces; there's little of it left. The crew must have drowned."
	"Maybe the wailing sound I heard," said Tomas, "was the elf girl crying for help."
	"No." Brodie's voice was a curt denial. He stowed the spyglass back inside his jacket and massaged his fleshy face. "Look, if you give that girl some hot food, I'll take the row-boat out there for a look around, just in case."
	"Won't you need help?"
	"I can manage well enough. You take care of her for me. Will you do that?" His voice sounded unsure, almost plaintive. For some reason, he seemed to have lost his usual bustling confidence. Tom looked into the Halfling's eyes, and saw a trace of fear.
	The fire hissed and crackled. The elf girl sat huddled in her blanket, sipping a mug of soup, while Tomas hung her clothes up to dry. "If your brother's still alive, Brodie will find him," he said. "He's an expert seaman."
	She stared into the embers of the fire. "If I am to face the truth, I have to admit my brother must be dead." She sighed deeply. "He gambled, last night in Remas. Lost most of the crowns we'd made from trading our silks and yarns, then drowned his sorrows in wine before he set sail. And now, he's drowned himself, as well."
	There was a long, uneasy silence. "What's your name?" Tomas asked.
	"Linna." She turned her pale grey eyes toward him. "And you?"
	"Tomas Fenman." As their eyes met, he felt strangely drawn toward her. He had never seen a human woman so delicately beautiful.
	"You live with a Halfling," she said. "How is that so?"
	"I never knew my parents. Brodie found me wrapped in a blanket when I was just a few months old. He took me in and cared for me."
	"The Halflings are well known for their hospitality." She smiled faintly. "A generous people."
	"Yes," said Tomas.
	"And he makes a living as a fisherman?"
	"Yes."
	"And you help him?"
	"Yes," he said again. He felt annoyed, as if he ought to be able to think of more to say. But there was something unsettling about her steady stare and her questions.
	"It must be a dull life here for a strong, independent young man like you," she said, looking frankly at his broad chest and muscled arms.
	"It isn't dull at all," he answered defensively. "I've studied to be a mariner.'
	"On your fishing boat, yes." She shrugged. "I saw it anchored in the bay."
	"When we trade our catch in the town," he went on, "I earn money as an entertainer. I do backflips, and I juggle anything the crowd gives me. Stones, coins, even swords and daggers with bare blades."
	She nodded thoughtfully, as if picturing it.
	"Some time, I hope to join a travelling carnival."
	"But that would mean leaving your friend Brodie. He must be getting old, now. Nearing his hundredth birthday? I'm sure he needs your help here. And you seem a kind person. I think you're too kind to abandon him. So if you dream of adventure, you must know, really, it can be no more than a dream."
	Tomas felt suddenly angry - all the more because what she said was uncomfortably accurate. "I don't think that's any of your business."
	"Oh." She looked down into her lap, and then nodded to herself. "You're right, I spoke without thinking. I am upset about what has happened. My brother is gone; our ship and crew are gone; I have nothing left. I apologize for offending you."
	Tomas's anger left him abruptly. "It doesn't matter." He shifted uncomfortably. "If there's something I can do - "
	"You could sit here beside me," she said. "Your presence might be a comfort."
	He joined her on the cot. He felt himself grow tense, reacting to the nearness of her beauty. He didn't quite trust himself to look at her.
	"Thank you," she said. She rested her head on his shoulder, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and closed her eyes.
	Minutes passed. From her breathing, Tomas realized she had gradually fallen asleep. After a while, he carefully moved her so that she lay stretched out on her back. She muttered something, but didn't wake up. He laid another blanket over her, then paused and looked at her. Her face was serene in sleep. The curve of her neck lay revealed beneath her tangled blonde hair. How could someone who battled storms in the Great Western Ocean seem to fine and frail?
	When the Halfling came back to the cabin he was weary and dejected. "No sign of her brother." He eyed the elf girl, still sleeping soundly. "There's a few things worth salvaging, but I'll need your help, Tom."
	"Shall we wake her?"
	"No, best not." Brodie glanced around. "We'll keep an eye on the place from outside."
	Tomas frowned. "What are you afraid of?"
	Brodie slapped his belly. "Afraid? Me? Hah." He took Tomas's arm. "Come on. She'll be fine." But his eyes still moved quickly, checking every shadow.
	By late afternoon they had recovered the ship's log - which was in an elven language that neither of them could read - and some food supplies in small wooden crates. They returned to the cabin, woke Linna, and Brodie cooked a meal.
	The food seemed to revive her. She told them something of her home life on the isle of Ulthuan, where she had lived in one of the Elven Kingdoms. Her parents had been traders who had died unexpectedly in a typhoon that sank their ship. She and her brother had tried to continue the business alone, and had scraped by for a couple of years, despite his drinking and gambling. The two of them had made the hard voyage from Ulthuan to the Tilean Sea half a dozen times or more.
	As the sun set over the ocean, turning the sky gold, Brodie broke out a keg of rum. He started telling some of his old sea stories, of lost treasure, piracy, and giant serpents that could swallow a ship and all the crew besides. "But that's not the half of it," he went on, happy as only a Halfling could be when his belly was full with ample quantities of food and drink. "Why, there are creatures to the north, in the Sea of Claws, that would eat such a serpent for breakfast." He bent toward Linna, as if sharing a deep, dark secret. "Did you ever hear of a mariner by name of Richard Crowell?"
	"I know little of human legends," Linna said.
	"This man was no mere legend. Fifteen years ago - maybe a little more - it was a bad summer. Day after day the skies were dark with storm clouds, the land was wet and cold, and nights seemed longer than they had any right to be. There was talk that the creatures from the underworld were rising up against us. Babes were carried off by griffons, even hereabouts in the Tilean Cities, and beastmen were seen roaming the hillsides. People were scared to go out even by light of day."
	Tomas had heard this story too many times before. He stifled a yawn.
	"Well, Richard Crowell gathered together the best swordsmen, the bravest fighters. He routed the creatures of darkness from their caves and cisterns underground, and he found sorcerers who would use their magic to strip the monsters of their spells. He made Remas safe for honest folk to live in once again. And then, not content with that, he led an expedition up the coast, across the Middle Sea, to the Sea of Claws. He'd heard that this was where the evil beasts were coming from, and he wanted to stop them at their source."
	There was a short silence. "And what happened?" Linna asked politely.
	"Oh, there were battles the like of which you cannot imagine. All manner of flying things, creatures with tentacles instead of heads, humans that were half man, half woman - there was a screaming and a wailing, a gnashing of fangs and a beating of wings." Brodie paused. "Well, that's what I was told. I wasn't there myself, you understand."
	Linna smiled. "No, I suppose not."
	Brodie finished his rum. "We Halflings are simple folk. A warm home and a full belly, that's all the excitement we need."
	"And what of Richard Crowell?" she asked.
	Brodie's mood became more sombre. "Some say he succumbed to the evil forces he pitted himself against, after he made landfall and ventured into Norsca. But no one really knows."
	"Norsca?" Linna's eyes narrowed. "I've never been there. It's a faraway place."
	Brodie set his glass down abruptly. "Indeed, indeed it is. So far away, I wonder why we're wasting our time talking about it."
	"How do you - '
	"Just stories I've heard, that's all." He stood up. "I declare, it's past my bedtime." He belched and steadied himself against the table, then yawned loudly. "You should bed down for the night in Tomas's room, my dear. He and I can sleep in here."
	She rose gracefully to her feet. "Thank you." She smiled at Brodie, then turned to Tomas and took his hand. "It was a special pleasure to meet you, Tomas."
	Her touch was cool and light, yet he felt a wave of warmth spread from her hand to his. "Good night," she said, looking into his eyes.
	"Good night," he answered dumbly. Neither he nor Brodie said anything more till she had left the room and closed the door behind her.
	"I don't know, Tomas," the Halfling said finally. He threw a thick overcoat onto the floor in front of the fire, then stretched out on it on his back. "Hard to tell, whether things are what they seem."
	Tomas knew from the Halfling's slurred speech, this was no time to pay much attention to his ramblings. "Will you be all right sleeping down there?" he asked.
	"Right as rain." Brodie yawned again.
	Tomas lay down in Brodie's cot and pulled a blanket over himself. He stared at the wooden ceiling, watching it flicker in the light from the fire. He imagined Linna in the other room, in his bed. Had it been an invitation, the way she'd looked at him when she said goodnight? No, she must still be grieving over the loss of her brother. If he went creeping in to see her now, he'd just be making a fool of himself.
	He tossed and turned in the narrow bed, while Brodie snored where he lay on the floor in front of the fire. Tomas kept seeing Linna's face. Even when he finally fell asleep, she was in his dreams.
	Tomas felt a hand on his shoulder. He woke with a start, looked up, and saw a shadowy figure bending over him. It was Linna, he realized, and she was fully dressed. "There's someone outside," she whispered. "Quickly. Come and look."
	The fire had died down till it lit the room with a dim red glow. Brodie still lay in front of it, snoring, his hands clasped across his stomach. Tomas considered waking him - but the Halfling was in a stupor, sated with food and drink.
	Linna went quickly to the window beside the door of the cabin. Tomas lit the oil lamp and carried it over to her. "Someone knocked on the window in my room," she explained. "It was so dark outside, I couldn't be sure - '
	Tomas held the lamp up high and peered through the rippled glass. He saw a ragged figure standing in the night, his clothes soaked with seawater. He raised his hand imploringly, and his mouth opened as though he was trying to speak.
	Linna pressed her face to the glass. "It is my brother!" She ran to the door, her eyes wide with excitement. She lifted the oak bar and dropped it with a thump on the floor.
	Brodie muttered something and rolled over. He opened his eyes and squinted in the light. "What - "
	Linna was already tugging the door open. A gust of icy air wafted in, making the flame in Tomas's oil lamp flutter. "Corma!" she called. "It's really you!"
	"Wait," said Tomas, as she started out of the cabin. There was a strange odour in the cold night air. He sensed that something, somehow, was wrong.
	"Wha's going on?" Brodie sat up. He saw the open door, and Linna stepping into the night. "Hey!" he shouted. "Stop there!"
	But it was too late. In the flickering light from the oil lamp, Tomas saw the elf girl throw herself into her brother's arms. But her moment of joy turned almost instantly to horror. As Tomas watched, the figure of her brother mutated hideously. Linna screamed in panic and started struggling to free herself from the tight embrace.
	One of the arms that clutched her had turned into a huge purple crab's claw. The other was a brown tentacle, coiling around Linna's waist. A lumpy, fur-covered body literally burst out of the sodden clothes, and a razor-edged reptilian tail thumped onto the ground and started lashing from side to side. The creature's feet were hooves, and its face contorted till it looked like the head of a bear, with bulbous, bulging eyes and black horns that sprouted from its forehead. It growled, revealing long, curved, yellow fangs. Its breath steamed in the cold air.
	"Vile thing!" Brodie shouted. "Let her go!"
	Tomas turned and saw that the Halfling had struggled up onto his feet. He was clutching the flint dagger that he normally wore on a thong around his neck.
	The creature picked Linna up with its tentacle and tossed her across its shoulders. It tilted its head back, uttered a long, wailing cry, then strode away into the blackness.
	Tomas was trembling. The wailing cry was the very same sound that he'd heard the previous night.
	"Tomas! Help!" Linna cried. Her voice was almost lost on the wind.
	Clouds were covering the moon, and the light from his lamp reached no more than a dozen feet. Summoning all his courage, Tomas stepped into the darkness.
	Something ran in front of him: a deformed near-human shape with green, leathery skin. Another joined it. Goblins, he realized. They stood barring his path, hissing menacingly.
	"Tomas!" Linna called again, and he saw her briefly silhouetted against the stormy sky as the beast carried her down the path to the beach.
	In despair, Tomas hurled the oil lamp. His aim was true: the lamp hit the creature in the back of its legs and smashed, scattering droplets of fire. The thing cried in pain, and for a moment seemed about to drop the elf girl. But then it continued on its way, disappearing into the night.
	Brodie appeared beside Tomas. He drew his rusty sword from its cracked leather sheath and brandished it at the goblins. "Begone!" he shouted.
	They hissed again and started forward.
	Brodie raised his sword above his head. Tomas saw that the Halfling's hands were shaking. "I'm warning you!"
	The goblins continued toward him with their teeth bared and their claw-like fingers extended. And then, without warning, they stopped still, as if there had been a noise that only they could hear. Suddenly then turned and ran off into the darkness, leaving Brodie and Tomas alone in the night.
	Brodie sheathed his sword. He shook his head as if to clear it, then grabbed Tomas's arm. "Quickly. Back inside."
	Dazed, Tomas allowed himself to be led toward the door. "But we have to save her," he protested.
	"No." Brodie hauled him bodily into the cabin.
	Tomas pried at the Halfling's fingers. "Let me go!"
	"That thing has powers you've never dreamed of. And you don't even have a weapon to defend yourself."
	"You mean we're just going to do nothing? You want us to hide like cowards?"
	Brodie slammed and barred the door. He glowered at Tomas. "You'd see the sense of it, if you knew what I know."
	Tomas was barely listening. "It took her, Brodie. It just took her away."
	Brodie stumbled to the bed and sat down heavily. With hands that still shook, he lit a candle. "The beast you just saw was once a man. It got deformed when it chose to serve the dark forces."
	Tomas frowned "It looked just like a sea elf, at first."
	"That was magic. It disguised itself, see, with a spell of illusion, to tempt the elf girl out. But my dawnstone, here, showed it for what it was." He patted the wedge of flint that hung around his neck.
	"Dawnstone?"
	"It's enchanted. Has the power to undo the effects of magic." He shook his head grimly. "I only wish I'd used it sooner, to reveal the beast before she went to it."
	Tomas reached out and touched the dawnstone. It was cold and smooth. His fingers slid over its polished surface. "I always thought it was just a flint dagger. Where did you get it?"
	Brodie chewed for a moment on his lower lip. He gave Tomas a sidelong glance. "Well, we don't need to talk about that now. You had a nasty shock out there. A terrible tragedy. Let's brew some tea, and - "
	"I want to know the truth," Tomas said firmly. "What happened out there? How did you get the dawnstone? How do you know all these things about creatures and dark forces?"
	The Halfling fidgeted uneasily. "I was there, see," he said in a low voice. "With Richard Crowell and his crew."
	"In the Sea of Claws?" Tomas stared at him with disbelief.
	The Halfling shrugged. "I was only the ship's cook. Never was a fighter. But the fact is, Tomas, you were there too."
	For a moment, they stared at each other. Then Tomas laughed uncertainly. "I don't understand."
	"You were a babe, so you don't remember. But Richard Crowell, he was your father. Your mother was killed only a week after you were born - killed by a beastman. That was the real reason for Richard's quest: he wanted revenge against the things that had taken his young wife away. Oh, but it was much harder than he'd thought it would be. He anchored his fleet off the coast of Norsca, told me to stay on board ship and take good care of you, and went ashore with his army. He promised to come back if he could. But he never did. Only one of his men survived long enough to get back to the ship, and he told us terrible stories about the creatures they'd seen on land, with terrible magical powers. He died from his wounds just a few hours later, and the crew were so scared they set sail right away, heading back south."
	Tomas felt stunned by what he heard. At the same time, he felt a growing sense of excitement after so many years spent wondering about his parents. "This is really true?"
	The Halfling nodded. He grasped the dawnstone and lifted it over his head on its leather thong. "Richard knew I wasn't a fighter, so he gave me this stone for protection. His wife had worn it, back before - before she was taken. Richard had another one just like it, which he kept himself. A matched pair, very rare indeed."
	"This one used to belong to my mother?"
	"Indeed it did. Here, you need it now more than I do."
	Tomas held the stone in both hands. "I wish you'd told me all this before, Brodie."
	"It was best you didn't know." The Halfling gave Tomas another quick, guilty look. "If you'd known the truth, you might have done something rash, maybe even got it into your head to run away looking for your dad."
	Tomas nodded slowly, saying nothing.
	"I wanted the best for you, Tomas. I cared for you as if you were my own."
	"I - I know that." Tomas stared at the stone, expecting to see his reflection in the shiny black surface; yet somehow it seemed to absorb all the light that fell on it.
	"If you ever think there's magic being used against you," the Halfling said, "you take hold of that stone. You have to grasp it in your fist. Yes, like that. Just hold it, so."
	"All right. I'll remember."
	"Now put it on for safe keeping." He watched closely while Tomas looped the leather thong around his neck and dropped the stone inside his jerkin. "See, it's you they really wanted, tonight."
	Tomas looked up in surprise. "Me?"
	Brodie stood up and paced across the room. He poked nervously at the fire, sending sparks flying up the chimney, then paced back again, the floorboards creaking under him. "All these years I've been watching and waiting, expecting them to come for you. Your father must have hurt them badly, before they killed him, and they'll not forget it. Revenge; that's what they're after."
	"Then why did they take Linna instead of me?" Even as he spoke, he saw again the awful spectacle of the elf girl being dragged away into the darkness.
	"I reckon they found her brother, last night. Maybe took him off the wreck. They would have got her too, but she swam for safety and didn't reach the shore till it was almost light. They don't like the light of day. So they bided their time till it was dark again, then lured her out, hoping you'd follow." Once again, he started pacing to and fro. "We're not safe here, Tomas. That dawnstone protects against magic, but it's no use against brute force, and I'm not much of a fighter, and you've never learned swordplay." He shook his head ruefully. "First thing tomorrow, we'll pack everything into the boat and set sail. Find us a quiet little haven - maybe in the Estalian Kingdoms, on the Southern Sea. The winters are warm down there, and there's nary a creature of darkness to be seen. What do you say, eh?"
	Tomas looked at the Halfling in confusion. "You mean - you'll let them drive us out of our home here?"
	Brodie laughed bitterly. "You think we have any choice? Look at us, what's a pair like us going to do against the forces of darkness?"
	Tomas stood up slowly. His face was grim and brooding. He walked to the window and stared out into the night.
	"Come away from there." Brodie spoke sharply, but at the same time, there was a fearful, pleading sound to his voice.
	Tomas remained where he was. "She might still be alive."
	"Her? Alive?" The Halfling laughed without any humour. "They'll have drunk her blood by now. That's the terrible fact of it, Tomas. They make that wailing noise when they're hungry. The man who was with Crowell's army, he told us these things before he died, don't you see?" He went over and tugged at Tomas's shirt. "Let's get our rest. We'll need it for tomorrow. We've got to pack our belongings, and there's a long voyage ahead of us."
	Tomas shook his head. "It's not right."
	Brodie ran his hand nervously through his tousled hair. "Now you listen to me. See sense, Tom. You saw that thing - "
	"I can't run away and abandon her."
	Brodie swore. "Do you think you're like your father, is that it? You'll be as dead as your father, too, before this is done."
	Tomas seized the hilt of Brodie's sword and jerked it out of its sheath.
	Brodie's eyes widened with disbelief.
	"I have to go out there." Tomas shook off the Halfling's plaintive, grasping hands, and opened the door.
	The night was as black as before. Heavy clouds moved swiftly across the sky, obscuring all but a faint trace of moonlight. The sea hissed and roared, and Tomas flinched as a cold gust of wind hit him in the face. He strained his eyes, trying to see into the darkness. Fear clutched his stomach as he imagined the creatures that might be lurking there.
	"Tomas! Please, please come back!"
	He looked at the little Halfling standing in the doorway of the cabin, and for a moment he weakened. He loved Brodie as he would have loved his father, had he known him.
	But then the wailing cry started again, and Tomas felt his fear give way to righteous anger. He strode forward, raising the sword high.
	Behind him, he heard Brodie come out after him. "I can't let you go, Tomas. I can't!"
	Tomas leaped down onto the beach and crossed the sand in long, loping strides. Within a few moments, he had disappeared into the darkness, leaving the Halfling far behind.
	Tomas paused when he reached the cliffs at the opposite side of the bay. His heart was beating fast and his chest was so tight, it was difficult to breathe. He paused, gasping for air, and tried to listen. This was where the wailing had originally seemed to come from.
	Briefly, the large moon, Mannslieb, appeared between two clouds. In its faint light, Tomas saw tracks in the sand. There were large, deep hoof marks, and two sets of smaller subhuman footprints.
	The tracks led around the point. He ran quickly, scaled a heap of boulders, and found himself in the next bay. He had played here often, in his childhood. There was a cave, up in the cliffs. The tracks ended immediately beneath it.
	The moon disappeared behind the clouds again, but there were easy footholds in the rock. Tomas slid the sword into his belt and started climbing. He moved swiftly; his muscles were strong from the juggling and acrobatics he had practiced. It only took him a few moments to reach the cave mouth.
	He grasped the sword again and paused, hearing faint scuffling noises. "Linna!" he shouted. "Linna, are you here?"
	There were chittering sounds, like distant daemonic laughter. A foul, sweaty stench wafted out. He tightened his grip on his sword and took a cautious step forward.
	Something grabbed his leg. Sharp horny fingernails ripped through his breeches. Pointed teeth sank into his flesh.
	Tomas shouted in fear and pain. He groped in the darkness and managed to close his free hand around the goblin's neck. He tore the thing from him, wincing as its teeth pulled free. It made a terrible screeching sound and writhed in his grip.
	"Give her back!" he shouted.
	The goblin hissed and spat into his face.
	Tomas slammed the goblin down onto the floor of the cave, stamped on its neck, and stabbed his sword into its body.
	The goblin's screams turned to a gargling sound as it choked on its own blood. The great moon reappeared in the sky outside, shedding just enough light for Tomas to see the creature impaled on his sword, squirming in its last death throes. Tomas jerked the blade free - then stopped in dismay. The tip of the blade had snapped off where it had plunged through the goblin and struck the rock beneath.
	There was a scuffling sound. Tomas whirled around. Two more goblins were running toward him with their teeth bared.
	He leaped quickly to one side, avoiding the first. He swung the sword, using the sense of timing he'd learned from juggling in the village square. The blade caught the second goblin in the side of its neck.
	It was a heavy blow, but the sword's edge was dull. The creature screamed and fell, but it was still alive.
	Tomas spun around just in time to grapple with the first goblin as it returned and threw itself at him. He stumbled backward.
	It screeched and tried to claw his face. Tomas turned as he fell, so that he landed on top of the creature, squashing it against the rocky floor. Momentarily, it was stunned. He picked it up by one leg, turned, and swung it. His aim was true: its head smacked into the head of its companion. Their skulls smashed together with a terrible wet crunching sound.
	For a moment, the only noise in the cave was of Tomas's laboured breathing and the gushing of goblin blood. Some of the hot, wet stuff was on his hands. He wiped it on his breeches and picked up his broken sword. Cautiously, then, with his pulse thudding in his ears, he crept further into the cave.
	The moonlight faded into blackness with each step that he took. At the same time, he began to see a flickering orange glow ahead. He reached a bend in the passageway. Beyond this point, he knew, there was a large cavern.
	He sidled around the bend with his back to the wall and his sword raised. Up ahead, two torches had been wedged in fissures in the rock, illuminating a ceiling festooned with stalagtites and a floor cluttered with huge boulders. Near the center of the chamber was a frail, pale figure, tied to a column of rock. "Linna!" he shouted.
	The figure struggled and made smothered sounds. Tomas tried to suppress the surge of hope that he felt. He glanced nervously around. Where was the monster?
	He saw movement from the corner of his eye - but when he turned his head, he found that the shape had just been a shadow. The whole chamber was alive with dancing shapes created by the flickering light.
	He leaped up onto a slab of rock and circled around the edge of the cavern, coming gradually closer to the elf girl. She seemed to be unharmed. But caution held him back from running to her.
	He reached for the dawnstone and closed his fingers around it as Brodie had shown him.
	The figure of the elf girl shimmered as if he were seeing it through a heat haze. Suddenly, it dissolved. In its place was the beast, lashing its tail. Its bulging eyes were fixed on Tomas, and its fangs were bared.
	"Where is she?" Tomas shouted. His voice echoed around the chamber.
	The beast made a coughing, gargling sound that almost sounded like laughter.
	"What are you?" Tomas demanded, fighting to suppress his overwhelming fear.
	The beast's mouth widened in a ghastly grin. "I am a Champion of Slaanesh." Its words were slurred; its voice was guttural and inhuman. It screamed, then, and hurled itself forward.
	The wall of the cavern was behind Tomas's shoulders. He gasped in terror and swung his broken blade in a hopeless attempt to slash the creature's body. It seized the sword deftly in its crab-claw, twisted it out of Tomas's hand, and hurled it contemptuously aside. Almost in the same motion, it swept its razor-edged tail in a wide arc, aiming to cut Tomas in two.
	Tomas dodged to one side and the tip of the tail grazed his chest, ripping his shirt. He found himself off-balance and falling. Railing his arms, he toppled from the edge of the slab where he stood.
	His reflexes saved him. He somersaulted as he fell, and landed hard on his heels. But as he looked up he saw that the beast was already coming for him.
	Tomas ran. He scrambled up a series of ledges, then jumped up from one boulder to another. The creature was too cumbersome to match this kind of agility, and its hooves slipped on smooth stone. It roared with anger and lashed its tentacle-arm like a whip, reaching for Tomas's face.
	He ducked under it, then jumped higher, till he reached the top of a tall heap of boulders. The last one moved under his weight, and he realized it was precariously balanced. He looked back at the creature and saw what he should do. He turned his back to the wall, braced his feet, and pushed with all his strength.
	The boulder teetered ponderously under him, then started tumbling. It dislodged other rocks beneath it, creating an avalanche. There was a rumbling sound, and the whole cave seemed to shake.
	The monster vented an inarticulate cry. It stumbled backward as the rocks rolled down toward it. It had fierce strength but seemed to lack intelligence, Tomas thought. Perhaps all it knew was how to inflict pain and death.
	The first boulder hit its legs, and the creature fell. With inhuman strength, it pulled itself out from under the rock - but its legs had been crushed, and it could no longer stand. It screeched in pain and tottered helplessly, raising its claw-arm in a futile effort to protect itself as two more boulders tumbled down. One hit the claw and smashed it into fragments. The other landed squarely in the creature's hairy chest.
	It bellowed in agony as it fell beneath the rock. Blood spurted out and it writhed, lashing its tail. It vomited up a foul mixture of foaming, steaming, pink-and-brown sludge, and shouted again. Its struggles were gradually diminishing.
	Tomas was shaking so badly, he had to crawl down the tumbled pile of rocks on his hands and knees. When he reached the bottom he stood for a long moment, trying to regain his equilibrium as he stared at the creature. It glared back at him through eyes that were growing dull and dim. Its tentacle twitched in little spasms. It made a guttural, croaking noise, then gasped, coughed, shat convulsively, and finally died.
	Tomas rested against a nearby rock, taking slow, deep breaths. He checked the gash on his chest and found that it was bleeding, but was not deep. His leg throbbed with pain where the goblin had bitten him, but that too was not a major wound. He wiped sweat out of his eyes, blinked, and looked around.
	He saw the stone column where the beast had disguised itself as the elf girl. "Linna," he exclaimed in a whisper. A pile of tattered clothing was lying there, and the rocks were slick with blood. Further back, where the creature had made its lair, there was an ugly heap of bloody bones and chunks of pale flesh.
	Tomas clenched his fists. He willed himself to be strong. With a sense of hollow dread, he forced himself to go and take a closer look.
	Some of the shredded clothes were Linna's. He remembered hanging them up to dry in the heat from the fire in Brodie's cabin. Other garments were also elfin in style, but seemed cut for a man. She and her brother had died here, there was no possible doubt. Tomas cursed himself for having come too late to save her.
	He turned away, feeling sick with guilt. His father had been right: it did no good to hide. So long as people gave in to their fear, more innocent victims would die, and the dark creatures would multiply and grow stronger. The only way was to match their strength with greater strength.
	Tomas turned and walked shakily back past the creature lying with its chest crushed beneath the boulder. The bulging eyes stared up blindly, and the mouth gaped in an ugly, silent scream.
	Tomas paused. He saw something that gleamed in the flickering light. Trying to suppress his revulsion, he squatted down beside the corpse. Almost lost in the beast's thick furwas a shiny black object. He reached out, took hold of it, and dragged it into view. It was a dawnstone, just like the one that Brodie had given him.
	With a trembling hand, he took the stone from around his own neck and held it beside the one that the creature wore. There was no doubt: they were identical. A matched pair.
	He stood up suddenly, and felt himself swaying. What had Brodie said about Richard Crowell? Some say he succumbed to the evil forces. And: The beast you just saw was once a man. And: He promised to come back if he could.
	Tomas clutched his stomach, nauseated by the idea that the corpse in front of him had once been his father. He took slow, deep breaths, trying to regain control. Part of him simply could not believe it; and so, again, he kneeled and compared the dawnstones.
	They were identical in every detail.
	In a sudden spasm of anger, he ripped the creature's dawnstone loose and thrust it into his pocket. Nothing but revenge, he realized, could take away the outrage that he felt. Whatever person or entity had concocted this travesty should surely be made to pay in some way.
	He turned and started toward the exit from the cave, feeling a fierce new determination. Maybe he was being foolish; he was, after all, at the beginning of his manhood, and he had survived his first battle more by luck than skill. Nevertheless, he would go back and find Brodie, and ask the Halfling for his help.
	To search for vengeance in the Sea of Claws would be an enormous undertaking. It would require courage, resources, trained warriors, and expert seamen... not to mention the services of a good ship's cook.