“What’s a Mahar?” he whispered.
“The enemy of every warm-blooded creature on either side of the earth,” Bo said, “but you don’t need to whisper. They’re deaf as doorknobs, the whole lot of them. Of course they might have sagoths.” He dropped to a whisper himself.
The Mahars were, he said, the most highly evolved species in this world—a race of small dinosaurs had mastered science and engineering and built cities rivaling those of the best on the outer world—but the Mahars, though highly evolved, had lost none of their reptilian manners and were as cold and ruthless as sithics.
“It’s a female race,” he added, “but don’t let that fool you. They have none of the warmth or goodness of human women. In fact, they learned how to fertilize eggs and reproduce without males, and so destroyed them all.”
“Why?”
“Their clerical order demanded it, promising an eternity of peace and prosperity, when in fact they sought to possess all the power in the Mahar realm,” he said. “They then kept the process a secret, so that Mahar would have no future without it. Psst, there it is again.” He pointed at the trees, and Zartan looked, confused. Were these creatures climbers?
He saw something like a flying lizard looping through some branches.
“These Mahars also fly?”
“I didn’t mention that?”
The lizard-like person turned and began to dive, opening its beak as if it would grab at some unwary prey. Zartan flinched, but the creature was not headed for them. He felt only a moment’s relief, when he realized it was headed for Bob!
Zartan flung himself at a vine dangling from the high branches and began to climb, finding branches to hasten his ascent. He could hear a skirmish and saw a few red feathers fall past him, urging him to climb still faster.
“Help! Help!” Bob called.
“I’m coming! I’m coming!” Zartan called back. He swung to a higher branch and looked up. He could now see the parrot struggling to break free from the horrible lizard's tiny hands—which it had on the apexes of its wings—and keep his head out of its beak, which kept snapping and missing. It was small relief to note that the Mahar, though much bigger than a parrot, was no bigger than a child and did not seem particularly strong.
“Just a few more seconds, Bob,” he called. The creature noticed him and tried to fly away, but by extending its wings released Bob, who took the moment to bury his considerable beak into the thing’s eye. The thing did not holler, but Zartan could feel its agony as it dropped from the branch. It tried to right itself and get away, but Zartan found a length of vine and tossed it, entangling the Mahar’s limbs. He brought it back and prepared to throttle it, but stopped.
Please sir I meant no harm.
It did not speak, but Zartan knew its thoughts! He was repelled by its pitiful tone, but decided not to kill it. He bound it instead with the vine and clambered back down the tree, dangling it across his back. Bob fluttered nearby, pecking at it whenever he had a chance.
“Awful thing!” the bird squawked. “Awful thing!”
Bob was rarely mean, but Zartan was not surprised by his hostility. The thing had just tried to eat him, after all.