STORY 23 - part 1

The Felarya Museum in Arlinic had opened half an hour earlier, and early morning visitors were strolling through its exhibit rooms, commenting amongst themselves on the rare treasures and curious artifacts, looking suitably impressed. Dazzled as they were by exquisitely carved, fine metal helmets and cups of sparkling stone, they paid little or no attention to a young woman crossing the rooms with barely a glance at these wonders. Fairly tall, her neat blond hair cut shoulder-length, her build lithe yet shapely, she walked with confidence and purpose. Had they known who she was, they might have been more impressed than by the exhibits themselves.

She was the one who had brought the treasures here.

She turned into a small corridor, which ended with a door marked private. She swiped her badge through the lock, and it clicked open. She stepped into another corridor, and made her way to a smallish office.

It was made even smaller by the books, rolled-up maps, files of documents and mismatched, small-scale pieces of scientific apparatus cluttered about it, along with some minor museum pieces. The woman glanced around the relative untidiness, before her gaze settled on the kindly, greying, middle-aged man who stood from behind the desk.

“Well?” he asked eagerly. He had seen the bag in her hand. And she had already called to tell him she had it, of course. She grinned, holding the bag up, then placed it on his desk.

“Well, take a look.” She smirked, proud of herself. “And tell me if it was worth the price of that swimsuit.”

His brown, thin hands trembling a little, the man opened the bag, and looked inside. He breathed out a light sigh of awe. The woman watched him, smiling.

“It's amazing!” he whispered.

“Isn't it just.” She grinned. Her expression turned serious a moment later. “I brought back two of them. The only two I found. This one can go in the museum. The other… well, I want to see it put to use. It can help a lot of people.”

The man nodded. “Of course.” He placed the bag down on his desk once more, and looked at her, thoughtful. “You're quite amazing, Ranilla. You know that? You could be rich by now.”

The woman shrugged.

“What's the point in being rich? I just want to be comfortable. I don't need more than I… need.”

The Felarya Museum had been a joint initiative, to which several people had brought capital, but Ranilla had been -and still was- its sole provider in exhibits. Venturing into the lethal world, she had pillaged many of its abandoned treasure sites, defying danger with increasing expertise. She had brought back unique objects which had made the reputation of the museum, and had also provided scientists of all kinds with precious information and samples of plant life and soil. She had taken pictures of ruined buildings, of Felarya's biotopes and of its many creatures and inhabitants, which excited scientists were still pouring over. Any other person with her talent would have made a fortune, but Ranilla was scornful of wealth. The museum's financial supporters provided her with the means to live in reasonable comfort, and paid for her expeditions; she required no more from them.

The man smiled a little.

“You're not like any other treasure hunter I've heard of.” He sat down, and invited her to do likewise, which she did. “What are you going to do now?”

She met his smile.

“I'm going to relax for a while. Live the good life and all that… And then I'm going back out there.”

“To the Tomb of Alcazath?” the man asked, curious. Ranilla shook her head.

“No.”

The Tomb of Alcazath comprised the lower levels of a mysterious, unnamed temple whose main sections were considered something of a trial-run for would-be adventurers. Highly perilous, they were one of the easiest places in Felarya to loot for treasure. Seasoned adventurers joked that if you died in the main part of the temple, you had better not try anything harder. The tomb qualified as `harder'. Ranilla had been there, several times. Built as a subaquatic and partly subterranean pyramid, it extended downwards in levels, increasingly dangerous. She had been five levels down, surviving its lethal traps and hungry creatures, and had brought back treasures undreamt of by man, as well fascinating pictures which in themselves had earned her high awards. But she had never been all the way down. Not to the burial chamber. Not even close.

Nobody had. Or at least, nobody who had survived the return trip and lived to tell the tale.

“No,” she said again, “not yet. I still need to think about ways to get past some of the… obstacles. If I go any deeper, I'll have to plan it very carefully.” She leaned back a little in her chair. “I'm going to Lataran temple.”

The man gave her a look of surprise.

“I thought you'd already been there.”

“I have.” She nodded. It had been by far her most interesting adventure. Built for -some said by- a god of trickery, the entire building was designed to test the wits, calm and adaptability of its visitors. It contained a number of distinct `paths', each of which was lined with treasures and contained a succession of lethal and highly creative traps.

“I thought nobody could enter it twice.”

“So the saying goes.” She shrugged. “After I got out, it's true that I couldn't get back in. But I'm sure there's a way.”

The man smiled, slowly.

“As I said, you're quite amazing. You'll let me know what you need?”

“Just the usual, mostly.” She picked up a book on his desk, looking over its back cover with mild curiosity before putting it back down. “And an anti-grav crate. With large fresh vegetables and fruit. Specific ones. I'll give you a list.”

The man with greying hair chuckled.

“I know better than to ask what any of it is for. I have got one request to make of you, though.” He paused. “I'd like you to take someone with you.”

Ranilla frowned, straightening up.

“What? Who?”

“A reporter. They want to document your expedition. Oh, don't worry,” he added quickly, cutting off her objections in advance. “He's used to surviving in the wild. He's even been to Felarya, once. He won't be a burden. And you can watch each other's backs.”

Ranilla's frown turned contemplative.

“I don't want to be responsible for someone else's safety. I'm not a team player. I don't believe in `safety in numbers'. The safest number is one.”

“I know. But this guy won't need to be coddled. Trust me; I wouldn't be asking you otherwise.”

Ranilla met his gaze, searching his eyes, then sighed, and leaned back once more.

“If he comes, he plays by my rules. He does whatever I say. Oh, and no bringing back animals.” That had always been one of her firm principles. Scientists had begged her to snare some of Felarya's creatures and bring them in for study, but she had always refused. `Creatures in the wild should be left in the wild', she had said.

“Of course,” the man assured her. “This is your expedition.” He paused. “Anyway, no need to talk about that yet.” He gave a broad, warm smile. “Let's talk about what you brought back from last time.”

* * *

Three weeks earlier…

Ranilla Mead slid quietly into the Jewel River with barely a ripple. From between the cover of trees, she entered the water, her sleek swimsuit clinging to her body. She kicked down, descending into the deep. The mask over her face illuminated the dark riverbed far below without casting any visible light. Huge crystals sprouting from giant rocks dazzled spectacularly in the shimmering water. She might be able to chip at them, but it was not worth the risk or effort. She did not want to stay here any longer than she needed, and there was plenty of easier treasure to pick up on the river bed. Particularly here, by the caves.

Her legs kicked out, her arms guiding her, and she descended further. A strange, glowing fish swam by, scintillating in patterns of orange and silver scales, and she waved at it with a little smile. The only other creatures in sight were small marine life. But she knew better than to trust appearances.

As she swam further down, the caves loomed darkly, their black insides sparkling with crystals - eerie, and breathtakingly beautiful. She did not enter. Within the caves lay riches beyond measure, but in the darkness lurked hungry creatures, to whom a lone human would be little more than a snack. Nightmarish stories described a whole, monstrous society residing deep within - creatures deformed by long exposure to the crystals, their minds and bodies warped into servility, pawns of an unspeakable, ravenous being. Most of the stories were probably true. She would not try to find out. Underwater caves were not her habitat. She was too vulnerable here.

Instead, she swam to the riverbed close to them, her eyes darting over its surface, between gently swaying plants, thick corals and large seashells which resided on the rocky, sandy surface. A world unto itself, a world of animals and plants, to which she was alien. She would not disturb them long.

The riverbed was littered with occasional precious objects, dropped by adventurers who had brought them out of the caves, only to be devoured by river-dwellers on their way back to the surface. Ranilla picked some of them up calmly, thrusting them into her bag. A precious cup; unidentified coins, invaluable perhaps; a gem-encrusted dagger. And then she spotted the skeleton, and smiled.

It was only part of a skeleton, and was clearly human. Its bones were scattered, some of them broken, all of them long-since stripped of flesh. Small, crab-like creatures had taken refuge beneath the partly shattered ribcage. Whatever had killed this man or woman had not swallowed them whole. She swam closer, and looked about.

It did not take her practiced eyes long to spot a small bag, its fabric only partly filtering the faint blueish glow from within. She smiled a little, with a sudden twinge of excitement. She knew what that glow meant.

She picked up the bag, and opened it. It contained two large crystals, almost transparent yet bathed in a gentle, sky blue glow. Her heart began beating a little faster.

“Janedines…” she whispered. Prized on many world, these crystals were infused with properties yet to be fully understood. The one thing known about them with certainty was that they possessed the power to heal - illnesses, injuries; there seemed to be little they could not help with. She closed her hand around the bag, smiling happily, and looked back up towards the surface. She had found something almost invaluable. It was time to leave… before she ended up like the skeleton.

She paused, gazing at the human's remains. After a moment, she moved to pick up the skull, put it in her bag, along with the small bag of crystals, then kicked upwards, swimming back towards the surface.

Moments later, she saw the gigantic mermaid swimming towards her at high speed.

She kicked faster, but there was no way she could outswim the giant predator. The mermaid reached her, and Ranilla stopped, moving her limbs just enough to hold position. Gazing through her mask, she looked into the mermaid's blue eyes. This was a young one, barely into adulthood, but big enough to swallow her in a single gulp. The fish-girl looked back at her, moved right up close to her, and sniffed at her. Then grimaced. Ranilla smiled.

She was wearing a specially designed swimsuit made to repel predators with a nauseating scent and taste. She herself had taken nasal inhibitors to block the scent, but she knew the suit smelled anything but appetising. The mermaid hesitated, a frustrated look on her young face. She knew this was a human, and that humans tasted delicious. But this one was wrapped in something nasty, which would spoil her taste… and most probably make the young mermaid feel quite sick.

“Are you going to eat me?” Ranilla asked, very calm, her voice muffled by the mask. “I'll give you tummy ache.”

The mermaid frowned, unhappy. Tentatively, she stuck out her tongue, the tip of it extending to lick Ranilla's torso. Very quickly, she drew her tongue back in with a grimace of disgust. She turned away, and swam off, leaving the inedible human behind. Ranilla smiled, and swam the rest of the way back up to the surface.

She emerged onto the riverbank, and walked a short distance into the forest, before stopping. She allowed herself a grin.

Healing crystals! They were not only a personal achievement, although she felt very proud at having got them; they would also help a lot of people. They had been worth the risk. She opened the bag, and glanced at their soft glow, but focused her attention on the skull. She picked it up, and held it up. Its dead, empty eye sockets stared at her. Some of her joy faded, as she gazed back at it solemnly.

This had been a person, once. A man, or a woman; someone perhaps just like her. A person, whose luck had run out one day, down in the water.

“I don't know who you are,” she whispered, very quietly. “But we'll get you a proper burial.”

She placed the skull back in her bag, and began to get changed, before her long walk back to the dimensional gate.

* * *

Present time

`This is where we stop talking,' Ranilla mouthed silently as she stepped away from Ur-Sagol's dimensional gate, and glanced over at her travel companion. She was back in Felarya, the warm evening air caressing her face, the breeze bearing the scent of the jungle.

Sarim Kin, the man accompanying her, was fairly tall, in his forties, with thick, short dark hair, a thin beard and brownish, sun-baked features. There seemed to be a slight squint in his dark eyes, but she had found it was deceptive. His eyesight was as sharp as his mind and reflexes - remarkably so.

`Right,' he mouthed back. She had been pleased to find that he was a lip-reader. It would make communicating while moving silently a lot easier. They both wore light, sensible clothing coloured for camouflage, and backpacks which they could drop in a moment if they needed to start running. Sarim also carried a camera, and hauled a large anti-grav cart behind him. He jerked his thumb towards it. `I don't suppose you're going to tell me what that is?'

Ranilla smiled a little, and shook her head.

`It'll come in useful soon enough. Just hold on to it.' Her gaze panned over the magnificent ruins of the dead city, before turning to the forest which encroached on its edges. `Come on. Let's get moving. We'll need to keep up a steady pace.'

`Fine by me.' He manoeuvred the cart, and followed her, as she left the safety of the portal's protection zone, and ventured into the jungle.

This was where the danger began. The moment they walked into Felarya, they were potential dinner for any number of hungry predators. Or even predators who weren't particularly hungry, but who might want to indulge in a couple of humans merely for the taste. Silence was essential for survival. The two of them advanced cautiously, making barely a sound, while Sarim began to film.

The air was turning dark with the onset of nightfall, almost as soon as they set out, and Ranilla glanced up from time to time in quiet concern. She had hoped they would have more time before night came. The air remained warm, moist, with the beginning of a pleasant coolness. She might almost have felt it was a pleasant hike on a warm summer's night… if she were not busy side-stepping slug girl slime trails and avoiding loose twigs which might snap too noisily. Sarim tapped her on the shoulder, and she looked back at him.

`Where are we sleeping?' he mouthed. Ranilla pointed up ahead.

`It's a twenty minutes walk still.'

`You have a specific place?'

She nodded. `The only one that's safe here.'

* * *

The trees loomed high above them, swaying in the breeze, as they moved ever more cautiously in the fading light. Ranilla looked around, as though getting her bearings and seeking something, then suddenly smiled. She motioned for Sarim to push the antigrav cart forward. He did so, and began filming once more, sensing that something was about to happen.

“We can talk now,” Ranilla said, simply. They were the first words she had spoken since her arrival.

“It's safe, then?” Sarim asked. He followed as she walked towards a large tree, its bark a brown-tinged shade of light green. Ranilla did not answer him directly, but looked up at the tree, smiling.

“Hello, Shelny!” she called.

Sarim tilted the camera up, and stared as a face came into view high up in the tree, as though morphing out of some elaborate camouflage. The face looked human, but was gigantic, topping a very feminine, naked torso which appeared to grow from the tree trunk itself. The tree was a woman, he realised. A dryad -half-plant, half-woman.

“Ranilla!” the dryad smiled. “It's been a while.” She looked at Sarim. “Who's your friend, and what's he pointing at me?” she asked, curious.

“His name's Sarim. That's a camera… and he really should ask before taking pictures of a naked lady,” Ranilla said, casting him a reproachful scowl. Sarim lowered the camera, abashed. Shelny giggled.

“What brings you to my part of the woods?” She leaned down, bringing her face -and torso- much closer, looming gigantic above them. Sarim gulped, discreetly. She really was quite beautiful, with surprisingly smooth, light green skin, deep, dark, warm eyes, and cascading black hair. She placed her hand, palm upwards, next to Ranilla, who climbed onto it without fear. The dryad lifted her up.

“We're going to Lataran Temple,” the human woman explained. “Is it ok if we spend the night here?”

“Of course!” Shelny beamed. “I'll be glad for the company. You can tell me all about the adventures you've had since last time.”

“You two are friends?” Sarim asked. Shelny nodded, smiling.

“Speaking of which,” Ranilla said, “I've brought you something. In the crate.”

Shelny giggled.

“Yes, I thought I could smell something nice… I just didn't want to ask.” She placed the human back down carefully, and Ranilla opened the crate for her, revealing large quantities of enormous fresh fruit and vegetables. Shelny's eyes lit up.

“For me?” she whispered, delighted.

“For you.” Ranilla smiled warmly. “It's all fresh. Oh, and…” She reached into her bag, pulling out a very large, sparkling dark green bracelet, which she held up for her. “I found it in the lakeside temple. It's rather too big for me, so…” She grinned.

“Awww…” Shelny took it carefully, looking quite moved. “You shouldn't have.” She held it up, marvelling at it. “I haven't got anything to give you,” she said, a little guiltily.

“You've helped me survive before, and you'll keep me alive again tonight,” Ranilla pointed out, simply. “More to the point, I have fond memories of that last night when we talked together. I found out I had a friend in Felarya. It's just a gift. As a friend. And to say `thank you'.”

Shelny was looking quite misty-eyed. With a gentle smile, she placed her hand down for them to climb on to, and lifted them up towards her large upper branches. Sarim glanced down warily at the ground receding far below. He leaned towards his travelling companion.

“She's not of the man-eating kind, then?”

Ranilla shook her head, amused.

“She's a vegetarian. Like me, actually. We're quite safe.” She looked at him. “Safer than anywhere else in Felarya. Relax. She's good company, and you'll get a good night's sleep.”

* * *

They left shortly after dawn broke, having eaten a quick breakfast up in the safety of Shelny's branches. It had been a restful, revigorating night. They had stayed up for a while talking to the dryad, trading stories, until Ranilla had decided they needed enough sleep to be in peak condition for the next day. She had fallen asleep listening to the rustle of a strong breeze in Shelny's leaves, and the night sounds of Felaryan wildlife. Sounds which might have been terrifying when heard from the ground, but which acquired a distant, almost soothing quality as she lay resting in the safety of her dryad friend's care…

Shelny had called upon a fairy friend of hers to guide the two humans part of the way. The fairy, Enita -brisk and bubbly with very dark skin, light green hair and shining eyes to match-, turned out to be a friendly girl who found it a little difficult not to engage them in conversation when Ranilla wanted them to move quietly. She was also cheerfully carnivorous, telling them from the outset that they need not fear her `because I've just had three nekos and I'm quite full for now'. Sarim had kept a wary eye on her, particularly when her rumbling tummy suggested the unfortunate nekos had passed on to her intestine, and she was getting hungry once more. She flew off at that point and returned with a slightly bulging, squirming tummy, licking her lips and looking pleased with herself. The humans did not ask what was inside it.

Enita led them for a day, watched over them at night, then took them on to the very edge of her tribal territory, which they reached at lunchtime the following day. The humans shared a quick meal, then thanked their guide warmly. She smiled, and gave them each a kiss on the cheek before flying off, dancing daintily in the air, singing to herself in a clear, beautiful voice.

“I don't think I'll ever get used to this place…”Sarim commented, filming her as she left. “She's a lovely little thing, but I wouldn't want to guess at how many people she's eaten in her life!”

“Best not to think about it,” Ranilla said gravely. “All right, quiet now. Back to lip reading.”

They were a long way from the portal here, walking ever deeper into the jungle, and now once more without protection. The bright sunlight dispelled many of the shadows, but the sheer height of the trees, crowding around them, made it difficult to remain permanently alert, and to spot whatever might be lurking in the shade. It would still be quite a walk before the temple… and then, the danger would become even greater.

Death hit Sarim without warning. They had been walking quietly, unaware of any imminent threat, when there was a puff and a wet, whizzing sound. Reacting on instinct, Ranilla leapt to one side, turning as she did so. She saw Sarim hurled forward to the ground, weighed down by the impact of a huge, thick gob of spit.

A pretty, giant brown-haired slug girl with an orange-brown body emerged from between the trees. She wiped her mouth after her first spit, then began to build up for a second, her brown eyes fixed hungrily on Ranilla. The human stared. For a split second only, she was indecisive.

She could not stand up to a slug girl. She was in mortal peril already; staying would doom her. Slug girl spit was incredibly strong, literally sticking Sarim to the ground. Ranilla would have difficulty getting him free even if she had an indefinite amount of time to do so; with only one a handful of seconds at her disposal, it was impossible.

She leapt again, rolling acrobatically as the giant girl spat her second gob, narrowly missing her. Picking herself up, she ran. There was nothing else to do. Much as her mind and heart screamed for her to go back, hating her, she could not save Sarim. She weaved and skipped as she ran, dodging here and there, only just avoiding another splat of sticky spit from the huge predator.

Tears trickled down her face as she ran off between the trees, leaving the slug girl -and her doomed companion- behind.

She slowed only when she was certain she had outrun the predator's range, and only then did the tears really well up in her eyes, clouding her sight. She wiped at them, sniffling, hurt and furious -at herself for what she had done, at the slug girl, at those who had sent Sarim out here, and at herself again for allowing him to come. It was an inchoate anger, born of grief, and she struggled to overcome it. She had been reminded, horribly, of what a cruel place Felarya could be. Now she needed to keep her wits about her if she wanted to survive.

She moved on, drying her tears, and pushed through a thick bush into a clearing. Then froze.

She gazed straight into giant, open, attractive blue eyes.

Oh, d-

The eyes were, unsurprisingly, set in a face, that of a young giantess, who was lying on her side, clearly taking a nap. She had long blond hair, neatly tied, and wore a shirt and short skirt. Ranilla had never met her before, but she knew who she was. Few humans had researched Felarya's giant inhabitants better than she had - a necessity for survival. This was Jora, a giantess who, it was said, had once been a human.

But had developped something of a taste for eating her own kind.

In the fraction of a second she stood there, and they looked at each other, Ranilla felt a fresh burst of anger, furious that this woman could eat humans despite having been one herself. She quelled her anger immediately. She needed to think calmly -something she was very good at. Jora was known to be a clumsy hunter.

I can still survive this.

Jora smiled at her, hungrily. Ranilla turned, and ran. She tore through the underbrush as fast as her legs would carry her, darting through narrow spaces, beneath fallen trees, hoping to put as many obstacles as she could between herself and her pursuer, skipping and weaving with all the agility and raw speed of her fit, athletic body.

Prickly plants scratched at her skin. She leapt over roots, barely stumbling. She could hear the thud of heavy footsteps behind her, and glanced back instinctively over her shoulder, tense and a little breathless. It was at that point that she ran right into something.

It was soft and fleshy, hard and scaly at the same time, and it flung her back, the impact of her velocity against an unmoving, gigantic obstacle enough to send her sprawling. She landed on her backside, hard, gasped as the air rushed from her lungs, and looked up.

Her heart sank.

She had run right into yet another predator. This one was a giant naga, a young one, barely an adult. Her tail was a soft, whitish grey, with a zig-zagging blue and black pattern. She had fairly short brown hair, and lovely hazel eyes, which looked back at Ranilla with mixed curiosity and appetite.

Ranilla shook her head, shaking off her momentary dizziness after the collision, and took a moment to rub her bruised backside before gazing up at the naga. She gulped. She was in greater peril than ever. Fortunately, sharp and immediate danger were the focus which helped her remain calm. It had kept her alive many times before. She assessed the situation quickly, while the naga seemed to wait, as though willing to let her make the first move. Ranilla's heart was thumping, pumping adrenaline through her veins, but when she spoke her voice was perfectly calm.

“You would be Katrika, correct?” The naga looked surprised, and nodded, without a word. Ranilla smiled at her. The effect of surprise and curiosity, in itself, might buy her a little time. Unfortunately, with Jora in pursuit, time was not a luxury she could squander. And if Katrika were not hungry herself, she would probably allow Jora to eat her.

She brushed herself off, thinking quickly. She glanced round. Katrika was encircling her quietly with her tail, sending a little shiver of dread down her spine. There would be no escape by running. Not this time. She would have to persuade the naga not only to spare her life, but also to protect her from the fast approaching giantess. The ground was shaking, indicating Jora's approach.

She swallowed heavily. Here goes…

“Say, Katrika,” she addressed her captor boldly, calmly. “Looks like we're going to have a visitor real soon. Let's make a deal.”

Katrika's hazel eyes peered into her face. There was curiosity there, and wariness, almost suspicion, but little sympathy. The thump-thump of Jora's heavy footsteps drew nearer. Ranilla felt a rush of panic, and struggled to keep it down. She would only survive by keeping a cool head.

“Convince me,” the naga said, her voice as calm as Ranilla's, but much sterner.

Ranilla took a quiet breath, burying her own fear, and looked right back into the gigantic predator's eyes.

“Save my life, Katrika,” she said, calmly and clearly, “and I will deliver a treasure beyond your imagination into your hands.”

It was not a lie. She would have to risk her life again to get hold of it, but she could do it. If she was lucky, she might even gain the naga's lasting protection in return - but her thoughts at present did not dwell that far into the future. Her concern was her own immediate survival.

The naga, leaning a little towards her, yawned right into her face, dismissively.

“Those soft metals and shiny rocks you humans value are of no interest to me. Just your tasty bodies.”

Ranilla repressed a shiver. The predator was teasing her - playing with her food. Raw terror threatened her once more, but her firm, quick-thinking mind kept it at bay. She was not dead yet, and she had not exhausted her options. One thing every well-informed adventurer needed to know about Katrika was-

“I'm pregnant,” she said, her face earnest and sincere as she lied. This particular naga was known to spare pregnant women, making her an oddity among her kind, but providing Ranilla with one possible option for survival.

Katrika grinned. She seemed to be enjoying this, parrying every attempt Ranilla made to stay alive.

“If you were… I would have smelt it right away.”

Damn. Her chances really were running out now. It seemed clear Katrika had already decided to eat her -or leave her to Jora-, and was just playing a cruel little game in the meantime. She furrowed her brow, thinking hard. There were very few ways to talk a predator out of eating you. Unless… Her heart beating quickly, gulping back her fear, she looked into Katrika's face once more, and asked, very calmly:

“Would you be interested in a naga egg, then?”

At last, the naga reacted differently. Her attractive face turned pale with shock. She swiped her hand down, snatching Ranilla up before the young woman could avoid her -not that she would have been able to escape her in any case. Katrika glared at her, eyes blazing with sudden fury, quivering a little with the shock.

“That's not the least bit funny!” she hissed, clenching Ranilla hard in her grip. Despite the discomfort, and the still very real fear, the human smirked. Now she had the naga's attention! It did not mean she would survive, but it gave her, at last, a source of hope.

“Save me and I will take you to it,” she promised. She did not like to lie, but she knew how to lie convincingly when it was necessary. The lie seemed to be her only chance of getting through this alive, and she clung to it, a lifeline.

Katrika glared at her, then sighed. Ranilla held her breath, hoping. If the naga was uncertain what to do, this could be a turning point. At this moment, her fate could be decided. She kept her cool, maintaining her serious expression, waiting and hoping…

Katrika tossed her into her mouth. Arms flailing, Ranilla sailed a very short distance through the air, high above the ground, as the naga's mouth loomed wide open beneath her. The pink, wet flesh of her gums and tongue glistened, coated in the saliva her mouth was producing in anticipation of food.

“No!” Ranilla yelled, as she tumbled in between her lips, rolling and sliding helplessly on her wet tongue. Katrika's warm breath engulfed her, and her lips closed, sealing her in. “NO!!” she screamed, scrambling up, slipping and sliding, falling face down back onto the naga's tongue. Terror, despair welled up within her chest, overwhelming in their intensity. “Please!” She struggled against the movement of Katrika's tongue, which savoured her for a moment, absorbing her taste -enjoying her. Even in the pit of her despair, she fought to remain calm. “I'll take you to the naga egg!” she yelled, in the hot darkness of the giant woman's mouth. “You won't find it without m- mmmph!!” Katrika inhaled a mouthful of air, then her tongue surged beneath her prey, slapping up into the helpless woman and tilting her back, pushing her towards her throat. Ranilla struggled, panicking, but it was no use. Katrika's tongue was too strong, too wet, and she slid down it into her gullet. The naga's throat muscles gripped her, swallowing.

She squirmed as she went down, fighting to stop her descent, knowing it was futile but fighting all the same. She jabbed her feet, her knees, her elbows into the slick inner surface of Katrika's oesophagus, but her muscles were designed to cope with struggling food, and forced her down relentlessly. Still coated in sticky saliva, which helped the predator get her down, she was pushed the whole long way down inside the snake-woman's chest, until the sphincter gripped her feet, her legs, her chest, and finally her face, and she fell through empty space into Katrika's stomach.

She splashed down in a shallow, liquid pool, and scrambled to her feet. It was pitch black, the hot air stifling, but she could breathe… for now. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, pumping panic through her veins, her eyes wide and frightened in the darkness. After all her adventures in Felarya, her luck had finally run out.

She had been eaten.

Tears rose to her eyes again, the result of shock, terror and despair. She wanted to cry, but didn't. She knew better than to hit the inner walls of the naga's belly; it would only accelerate digestion. She sank down to a sitting position, trembling, leaning against the fleshy inside wall for balance, and brought her knees up close against her chest. The steady thud-thud of Katrika's beating heart echoed down to her, loud but muffled, joined by an ominous rumble from deeper inside the naga's digestive system. Shivering, she stared into the hot blackness, and forced herself to think.

There was no way out of a stomach. Everybody with any sense knew that. Once you had been swallowed, that was it. The only way you would be leaving was down into the predator's intestine, after the stomach had liquified you. The hope of escape was an absolute zero; there was quite literally nothing she could do.

Unbidden, images of her life drifted to her mind. Her previous adventure in Lataran Temple, braving the most diabolical traps… and surviving. Last night, talking to Shelny and Sarim, feeling warm and safe. Further back… The day she had helped inaugurate the museum, proudly telling visitors how she had found some of the best exhibits. Talking to her parents, before that, telling them not to worry… Further back, still… Her first kiss, the taste of it, as a budding teenager, at a friend's party on a warm autumn evening… Her sixth birthday, and her fascination with an illustrated book she had been given - a tale of thrilling adventures…

Outside, someone was talking to Katrika. Jora, no doubt. She heard the naga's voice, echoing down into her stomach, muffled too.

“Yes I saw her. But I ate her. I'm afraid I can't cough her up either.”

Tears filled her eyes, and this time she let them come. She had fought, used her wits, her agility, every means she could summon up to survive. It had not been enough. She was a naga's lunch; she was going to die.

She rested her head on her knees, and cried.

* * *

She had expected digestion to begin quickly, but that did not happen. She waited, and waited, wiping her eyes and summoning her courage to face the horror of her own death, but nothing happened. No acids came gushing into Katrika's stomach to dissolve her meal. She could feel the naga moving, slithering around, talking to Jora, but she remained alive inside her - a passenger in her belly, carried goodness knew where. It occurred to her, also, that she could still breathe, and she remembered that Katrika had swallowed a fair amount of air with her. Some of that had now escaped back up in little burps, or down into her intestine, but enough remained for Ranilla to keep breathing. From time to time, Katrika gulped down a small amount more, much to the human's puzzlement.

After a while, she grew angry. Perhaps the naga was toying with her again, delaying digestion. Perhaps she just liked the feel of food in her tummy. Ranilla got up, and hit her, out of sheer anger. There was no reaction. She began to pace, stressed and confused, as best she could on the uneven, moving surface of the naga's stomach floor.

Then, when she was able to calm herself down sufficiently, she thought about it some more. Perhaps Katrika was keeping her alive for another reason. Maybe, just maybe, she actually did want to find out about the naga egg. Ranilla's hope sparked, cautiously still. She listened, until eventually the talking between the two predators ceased, and Katrika was alone. She held her breath, waiting to see whether the naga would throw her up now.

She didn't.

Ranilla's fragile hopes sank back down into oblivion. She had been wrong. Katrika had no intention of releasing her; she was just delaying digestion for her own selfish pleasure. Ranilla hit her once more, in helpless pain and anger, and slumped down, waiting for the end. All around her, Katrika was on the move.

“I hate you…” she whispered, then screamed, as her despair overcame her: “I hate you!!”

There was no response, no indication that Katrika had even heard her, until eventually she stopped once more, and Ranilla could hear her talking to someone again. With nothing else to do, she listened, as best she could. Katrika said very little, before her stomach started heaving, pulsing and groaning around Ranilla, throwing the small human off balance and tossing her about helplessly. Terror exploded within her. This was it! Digestion was beginning.

But it wasn't. The stomach floor pulsed and heaved, tossing her upwards, until, to her great astonishment, she felt the sphincter grip her face, and she was pushed further back up Katrika's oesophagus. The pushing continued very fast, until, gagging, the naga heaved her up into her mouth. Ranilla gasped, shaken, breathing in the warm air of Katrika's mouth in great gulps, on her hands and knees atop the naga's tongue. A moment later, Katrika spat her out into her hand.

Shivering, her clothes and hair soaking wet and sticky, Ranilla inhaled the fresh air hungrily, almost sobbing with relief. Within an instant, however, she forced herself to take stock of her situation. She sat up, still trembling despite herself, in the palm of Katrika's hand, and looked around. The young snake-girl who had eaten her was talking to a slightly older, taller, beautiful blond-haired naga. Ranilla's eyes widened, and she shivered again, for a whole new reason.

Crisis…

The blond naga had a tent in her hand, and two others lay strewn on the ground, empty. She had obviously just finished a meal, devouring a group of human campers. The little bulge in her belly suggested as much. Ranilla looked from one to the other, listening to their conversation, just as they both glanced at her now and then. They were talking about her.

“I didn't know what to do!” Katrika was saying. “The human said she had a naga egg, and Jora was coming, and… Well, I thought I should come and ask you what you think. I'm not used to this yet.” She looked embarassed. “What do you do when a human says something like that?”

“The `human' has a name,” Ranilla spoke up, trying to brush off some of the saliva-soaked hair clinging to her face. She grimaced. “I'm Ran-”

Crisis' hand descended upon her, snatching her up. Her fingers closed about her tightly, a painful grip, and she lifted her up to her face. Her teal eyes were blazing, her face hard with rage, seething. Despite herself, Ranilla flinched. She had never had such raw, passionate anger directed at her before - by a creature who could crush her to death simply by squeezing a little tighter.

“Where is this egg?” she snarled, her voice seeping with fury.

Ranilla forced herself to meet her gaze, bravely.

“If I tell you, you have to promise not to eat me,” she said, as calmly as she possibly could. “You have to promise to let me go. Whatever happens, I want you to promise that you'll let me live.”

Crisis' eyes flashed dangerously, and she tightened her grip. Ranilla yelped in pain, the pressure of the naga's fist threatening to crush her arms into her ribs.

“Listen very carefully, human,” she said, her voice icy with anger. “I'm going to make this very clear. If a naga egg has been stolen from its mother, I want to see it returned to its mum. You are going to take me to that egg. If you don't, I can do far worse than eat you. If you don't do what I say, I promise you'll be in more pain than your tiny brain can possibly imagine.” She squeezed again, and Ranilla gasped, yelping out a scream, tears of pain in her eyes. Her mind rushed. She was alive, out of Katrika's stomach, but she had just made one of Felarya's most dangerous predators very, very angry.

“Well?” Crisis hissed, her glare burning into her. Her anger was so intense that even Katrika had flinched back.

Ranilla clenched her teeth against the pain, struggling to catch her breath and speak.

“I'll… take you to… the egg!” she gasped, and gulped, her frightened eyes seeking the faintest hint of mercy in Crisis' glare.

There was none.

The naga relaxed her grip very slightly, enough for her to breathe. She struggled to think. As long as she remained alive, there was still hope for survival, but her prospects were looking grim indeed. She could not lead the naga to an egg which did not exist. She would have to play for time, and hopefully find some means of escape.

Or, somehow, plead with her to spare her life. Which seemed unlikely.

“It's a long way away,” she breathed, still trying to sound calm. Putting on a brave face, despite everything. Crisis gave her a hard look.

“Take me there immediately. We leave right now.”

[To be continued…]