Flinx Transcendent_ A Pip & Flinx Adventure - Alan Dean Foster [20]
“Prepare to defend yoursself,” he hissed in the sharpest tone he could muster. Holding the torgk close against his chest, he raised the curved bengk high over his head, kicked off his quick-release sandals, and initiated a ceremonial advance. As he did so, he could not keep from noticing the human-shape's external ears. He stared at his inscrutable opponent. What purpose did all that extraneous flesh and ligamentation serve? He shook himself. He had made a start to a fight. A fight in which he, at least, was wielding weapons that were anything but childish. If someone was playing a trick on him, if this was a game, a few quick swipes of the bengk ought to expose it swiftly enough.
Shifting into the formal posture AAnn employed for hand-to-hand combat, Flinx took a half step backward and lowered his clawless hands. His adversary was young and probably inexperienced, but there was nothing juvenile about the blade he was gripping, about the killing point that tipped the end of the sheath that covered his tail, or about the sharp claws on his feet. Serious injury and even death could come at Flinx from any one of several different directions. He did not want to hurt the youth—but neither could he coddle the young AAnn at the risk of damage to himself.
Seeing that Pip was watching him and not his approaching attacker, Flinx made sure to keep his thoughts calm. There was no real danger here, he told himself. Everything was manageable. He faced nothing more dangerous than a little strenuous exercise. The nighttime visitor was not an enemy. Perceiving his thoughts, the deadly flying snake slowed her wing beats and settled back to the ground. Flinx relaxed. Feeding off her master's relaxation, the minidrag's mind was eased that much more. Still, she did not fold her wings flat against her sides, and she stayed alert.
Kiijeem continued to advance one stealthy step at a time. His unshod claws scraped rock, seeking the most secure foothold. If this was a game, the hypothesized unseen players were not ready to call it off. Was he actually going to have to bleed the tall figure confronting him? And what was it doing with its arms and hands? Why had it positioned itself with one leg in advance of the other, instead of side by side to gain the most height when leaping and kicking out?
It did not matter. If constrained within a clever costume, whoever had been hired or otherwise engaged to frighten him would find their movements correspondingly restricted. The realization was reassuring. Letting out a swelling battle hiss, his tail whipping behind him, Kiijeem AVMd charged across the painstakingly sculpted, slightly sloping sandstone that enclosed the artificial pool.
Overlooked by the onrushing reptilian figure and reassured by her master's muted emotions, Pip lay half dozing on the slice of rock where she had decided to rest and ignored them both.
At a chosen distance from his target, Kiijeem gave free rein to his powerful leg muscles and leaped. Though not yet fully mature he was strong for his age and the beneficiary of good martial training. As he started to descend toward his taller target, he cocked his legs and prepared to kick out, keeping bengk and tail in reserve. Still the shape before him did not move; merely continued to track him with its peculiar round eyes. Choosing the optimum moment, Kiijeem kicked. Still uncertain as to the seriousness of the challenge, he elected to strike for the chest instead of the head. If he was fighting an actor constrained by a costume, he did not want to mutilate or kill.
He need not have worried. As his legs shot forward in the direction of his opponent he expected it to try a blocking maneuver or to retreat. Instead, the tall shape ducked and threw itself forward. Exhibiting a suppleness that reflected the flexibility of a truly soft body, it tucked into a ball and rolled. As Kiijeem dropped farther and tried to adjust the striking angle