The Cutter's Shack(Alex, Glottack)

They reached the Cutter’s shack just before dusk. Stepping inside, Alex took a moment to look around the one room abode. There was a fire going in the fireplace and a pot of stew simmered above it. Obviously somebody expected them. A small kitchen was to the right of the fireplace and a large wooden table with bench seating sat in the center of the shack. In the far left corner was a bed with a trunk at the foot of it.

‘Simple yet adequate,’ thought Alex as she placed the rucksack on the table.

“Stay here, I’m going to let the cutter know we’ve arrived.” Glottack left, locking the door behind him.

Taking a seat on a bench, she waited for her keeper’s return. Glancing out the small window, she saw that it was now dark outside. Feeling tired she laid her head down on top of her arms, and closed her eyes.

It started as just a light scratching sound outside the door. Alex rose from her seat and approached the door thinking Glottack needed help opening it. Just as she reached out to touch the door knob the noise escalated to a deafening volume. She spun about trying to pinpoint the source but the tiny shack was enveloped in the ghastly sound. The walls shook with the beatings they were receiving. She wasn’t sure what was outside, but it definitely wanted in. Grabbing the fire poker, Alex stood ready to defend herself against her attacker.

“Get!” came Glottack’s familiar voice. “It’s not yet her time. Go back to the mountain, you vile creatures.”

Alex heard shrill cries and moans of displeasure. Finally silence ensued. She hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath until she exhaled in relief.

Upon seeing the small form standing in the middle of the room, daring anybody to lay a hand on her, the centaur broke into a broad grin. “Relax, put the poker down. They won’t bother you tonight.”

“Excuse me, Glottack, but may I get inside?” Stepping aside, a small beaver was revealed. “I’ve got supper all ready,” he said while bustling about getting bowls, spoons, and cups.

Glottack found a spot at the head of the table while Alex and the beaver took a seat on the benches. After a few spoonfuls, Glottack and the beaver engaged in some friendly chit-chat.

“What do you suppose they were doing down this way?” asked the beaver referring to the creatures that were outside earlier.

“It’s been a few hundred years since they last had a human; I say they were just anxious to play.”

“I reckon so. I do hope they take her further into the mountain than that last one they had. You could hear him screaming all the way down here.”

They both went about finishing up their stew but Alex had lost her appetite. “What’s the matter, girl, don’t you like the stew?” asked the beaver with a hurt look on his buck-toothed face.

“Oh, it’s fine. It’s the conversation that I find foul” she glared at the both of them while forcing down some more stew.

“Awe, there’s no sense worrying about those fellas outside,” grinned the beaver, “they just like to harass ya a little. It’s the goblins that you should be thinking about. They like to drag your death out. Torture you until you beg for death. That’s when they send you to the orcs. Nasty lot, they are.”

“She’ll be fortunate if it ends there. It’s been so long; they might take her to the heart of the mountain.”

“That’s true, I hadn’t thought of that”

“You’re both sick!” shouted Alex as she jumped up from her seat and headed across the room to the window. She stood with her fisted hands resting upon her slender hips, angry eyes peering out into the cold night.

“What’s with her?” asked the beaver innocently.

“Do you have rocks for brains?” shot back Alex turning to face the dimwitted males. “You treat me so kindly, providing food and shelter, even conversation. But in the end you’re still sending me off to die.”

“Just because you’ve been found guilty, doesn’t mean we should mistreat you.” Replied Glottack, trying to smooth things over.

“No, you’ll leave the mistreatment for somebody else.” Grabbing the rucksack she headed to the door.

“Don’t.” Glottack fixed his pale blue eyes onto her, “if you leave now I will not be able to protect you.”

“What do you care?”

“I care.” His eyes pleaded with her to stay.

“You have been very kind to me, Glottack,” spoke Alex, her voice softening, “but I cannot sit here and pretend everything is fine. I have fought too hard to stay alive. There are things I have to do. I can’t just roll over and die.”

She started to open the door but the centaur cleared the space of the room in a single stride. Placing a firm hand on her shoulder he spun her around. “If you insist on parting from my company, do so in the morning. The creatures of the mountain detest the sun.”

Alex stood there in disbelief. ‘Surely this creature isn’t going to let me just walk away.’ She searched his face for some sign of trickery, but found none. “Fine, I’ll wait ‘til morning.” Dropping the rucksack on the floor she went to bed and fell into a fitful sleep.

“Are you really going to let her leave?” asked the beaver.

“I’m afraid so” came the half-hearted answer.

“But why? Tavalox will be furious. He’ll know you let her go.”

“I know. There’s something within me that tells me what I’m doing is right. She’s not like the others, she doesn’t belong here.”

The two sat gazing into the fire, each lost in their own thoughts. The only sounds to be heard were the crackling of the fire and the whimpers of the girl lying on the bed.