For the A to Z challenge, I present Murder Most Fowl, an unedited serial story from the unpublished Cera Chronicles. Please excuse the grammar mistakes. This hasn’t been critiqued yet. If you’re just diving into this story, you may want to start with part A.
Yelling carried down from the hole overhead, and a figure obstructed the sunlight. I looked from the strange little bird up to our way out.
Moment’s later, Seth’s face appeared through the fissure. “Mistress Cera?”
I waved an arm, and then winced as the bullet in my shoulder struck a nerve. “Michael and I are down here. Where’s Fues?”
The familiar cackle reverberated through the cavern and a dark shadow dropped from the opening. The pygmy thrust his spear down as he landed, and the point lodged in the rubble. The wood bowed, setting Fues gracefully on his feet. He released his hold on the spear and it shot back into a vertical position with a twang.
My stalker squawked and soared down. Did he really count as my stalker anymore? I mean, if he really was, shouldn’t he have flown in earlier?
A rope tumbled from the hole, and Seth slid down its length. He scanned the area with narrowed eyes and fixated on the treasure turkey-duck-chicken. “What is that?”
I looked at Fues. “Don’t eat it. It talks.”
The pygmy stared back at me. “…so?”
Michael poked it with a finger. “It is the last remaining survivor of an ancient civilization.”
I glanced about the cavern. “How is this little guy—or girl—supposed to procreate if she—or he—is all alone?”
The turducken ruffled its feathers. “I am not alone. There is another egg right…” We followed its gaze to a broken chunk of rock lying on top of what was probably another statue. Its feathers flattened. “Oh.” It turned and studied my small group. “I don’t suppose any of you are geneticists?”
Mr. Stalker hopped closer and pecked the turducken on the head.
The smaller bird flinched. “Hey!”
“Well…” I scratched my chin. “The only one who might be able to help in that department would be our last companion, Rin.” He was a full-blood elemental, not a partial human mixed-blood like me. He had the gift of knowing the complete history of something just by touching it, and probably could have figured some way to at least clone the bird.
Too bad he wasn’t here.
Another shadow dipped through the hole overhead, and Joe shuffled down the rope. He slipped 11/18ths of the way down and crashed to the cavern floor. He stood, brushed himself off, and hefted his father’s shotgun. “Where’s Perry?”
I nodded toward Miss Medium-Rare, still lying unconscious nearby. “Now, let’s talk about rewards…”
Thanks for reading! If you want to start at the beginning, find it here. Don’t forget to visit other bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge.
Do you have any criticism? Suggestions? Wild, off-the-wall ideas of “you know what would be funny…?” Let me know in the comments. I’d love to hear them.