The Heartstone Saga by Archibald Bradford (short novels in english .TXT) 📕

their journey had been filled with similar mishaps that drove the young Troglodyte to distraction.

It seemed that every time she turned around Tora was getting up to some sort of innocent mischief, which Kriss would have no problem with if it didn’t mean constant delays in their journey towards Garland and the Aegis.

Oblivious to her new companion’s suffering, Tora’s face brightened.

“Bath time?”

Kriss hissed out a sigh, her tongue darting out and tasting the area for any hint of danger.

“Bath time.” She confirmed.

Tora’s face split into a broad smile and she scooped the Chameleon up into a chesty hug, covering her front with flour.

By this point in their relationship, Kriss wasn’t resisting the hugs anymore, figuring that they were a smile price to pay to keep the Ogre happy.

Though she was none too happy about being coated in flour like a lizard-girl dumpling.

They skirted the trough of water that fed the massive wheel of the mill, making their way towards the bank of the sluggish river.

But as they reached the edge, Kriss frowned.

“Wait, Tora… what smoke?”

The Ogre was already ladling palmfulls of water to splash on her swaying breasts, washing away the flour and leaving her blue flesh slick and glistening even as her darker blue nipples peaked, but her brow furrowed at the Trog’s question.

“Ups over there.” She gestured downriver.

Sure enough when Kriss looked where the big blue babe indicated she quickly spotted a thin winding line of wood smoke coming from with a strand of trees that hugged a curve in the meandering flow of the water.

The Trog’s frown deepened and she paused in the act of unbuckling the harness that held her massive blade in place on her back.

Who camps just outside a village like that?

With a few deft movements she pulled her red sash free of her waist and set it on top of Tora’s tunic.

“Bath time will have to wait for me.”

“Aww, was look forwards to washing yous nice brown skin.” Tora said as she adopted an impressive sulk.

“Yesss, a pity.” Kriss muttered, her tongue darting out again, the Trog on her guard now.

She was the sort of monster girl who would be quite happy to just be left alone, but given what few rumours she’d heard about what was happening in the world, about a mad Empath and an evil Chimera, she couldn’t ignore that someone might need help.

It was how she’d met Tora after all.

“I’m going to go and see who is skulking in the woods.”

“Mmmkay.” Tora said happily as she continued to splash about in the water; “Yous come rights back though!”

Kriss bit back an acidic comment, the Ogre’s words made it seem like she was the one that needed supervision!

The tiny scales covering her skin shifted to blend into her surroundings and Tora squinted as she tried to follow the Trog’s movements.

Kriss left her to play in the water and headed towards the trees; she left her blade sheathed on her back to keep it hidden from whoever might be in front of her.

Well, mostly hidden, the thing was huge.

Once she was in the woods her skin mottled in varying forest hues to maintain her camouflage, while she walked on the balls of her clawed feet to make as little noise as possible.

Soon she tasted the smoke in the air, the sound of the blissfully ignorant Ogre faded, and Kriss began to move with even more caution, her tongue darting out more frequently.

Five minutes later she froze when a bawdy laugh disrupted the stillness of the woods, listening intently to hone in on the source of it.

She was ready for anything, but what she found was less concerning than she thought.

A group of four teenage boys, nursing a little fire and exchanging really bad advice about women.

“I’m telling you! The girls love it!” One of them was arguing.

“You’re nuts, it would hurt like hell.”

“No it doesn’t!” The teen insisted; “You start with your hand like this, in the shape of a duck, then just curl it into a fist! And then-”

To demonstrate, he rapidly pumped his fist in the air, causing the Chameleon watching and listening to adopt a pained expression at what he was proposing.

The other three laughed at his ludicrous suggestion.

“Are you trying to beat her insides to death? Give it a rest man.”

Kriss listened for another minute or so as the argument continued, the Trog increasingly bemused by what the young idiot was proposing.

Finally she decided to make her presence known.

“Your friend is right. That would hurt too much.” She hissed drily.

The four teens jumped in surprise when she seemingly appeared right beside them.

“Holy shit! Are you a Witch?!” One of them blurted at her sudden arrival.

She decided to ignore the truly idiotic question, instead looking between them as the rest sized her up.

“What are you doing out here?” She eventually asked.

A reasonable enough question, but their response was anything but.

“Who’s asking?”

At the rude response her scales mottled red with irritation and she glared at the pugnacious teen that so challenged her.

Trog’s respected strength and courage, but they didn’t respect bluster and arrogance.

“I am. What are you doing out here?” She repeated flatly.

“None of your business.” He sneered at her.

“Yeah, why don’t you just pretend you didn’t see us, and we’ll pretend we didn’t see you?” The wannabe fister suggested, then looked her up and down; “Shouldn’t be hard with your weird magic trick.”

At that point she noticed the bags around them; not rucksacks for hiking or camping, but actual cloth sacks.

She kicked at one of them and the faint jangle of metal greeting her clawed foot.

“Hey, leave that alone!” Fister ordered.

The Chameleon looked to each of the four of them and