The Hunter's Apprentice: A Keltin Moore Adventure: The Adventures of Keltin Moore

Prologue – An Apprentice’s Progress

The sound of crashing waves drifted to Keltin through the trees of Riltvin’s westernmost coastal forest. Keltin enjoyed the sea, though he saw it infrequently. Certainly, there were beasts beyond the beaches, many that made their landbound cousins seem small and paltry by comparison. Whalers and hardy sea hunters plied the oceans for their mythical monstrosities, leaving Keltin feeling a strange mix of envy and relief that he would never have to see such things.

Almost never.

The letter from the village leaders of Panikek had arrived at the office of The Beast Hunter in Collinsworth a little over a week before. Jaylocke had read the correspondence from the small fishing village south of Junio and quipped that it sounded more like a fisher’s tale than a request for professional services. Still, the two of them had made the trip with haste, arriving to find the small community gripped with fear. Two fishermen had lost their lives. Keltin hated to see their grieving families. He knew too well how they felt.

Normally, he would have considered an aquatic beast beyond his abilities, but this one had reportedly made its attacks on land. Upon learning this, Keltin and Jaylocke had thrown themselves into the search immediately. They listened to the accounts of survivors and witnesses. They scoured the sites of attacks. They searched the coastline for strange tracks and tells.  Days of searching and nights of watching had finally led them to the base of a mighty Riltvin cedar within sight of the rolling sea, its fibrous bark scoured and torn with the marks of dozens of fishhook-like claws. Keltin and Jaylocke had made camp just far enough inland to be upwind and out of sight of the beast’s nest.

It was a pale, sea-salt-flavored dawn that saw them make their silent way to the tree and finally spy their quarry nesting there. The korric eel was long and thick, well over the length of the canoes that the fishermen used to ply the bay. Its sinuous body was twined around the tree’s thick trunk like a ribbon around a maypole. Keltin couldn’t count the number of short limbs along its flanks, but guessed that it had more than four to a side, each slender appendage covered with incandescent fins and wickedly sharp claws. Its head was obscured by the tree’s upper branches.

Keltin said a silent prayer of gratitude at finding the beast in repose. He supposed that some smear novelist would think it horribly unromantic for Keltin and Jaylocke to kill the beast as it slept, but Keltin was no holy knight riding a white charger to battle a physical embodiment of sin and corruption. He was a business owner with bills to pay and this was a job that had already taken too much time. He’d welcome a quick, safe resolution to it. Besides, he’d already had more than his fair share of close-calls with beasts.

Keltin turned to his apprentice with a silent, quizzical look. The Weycliff Wayfarer pulled a lock of wavy golden hair from his eyes and returned the look with the same cheerful grin that Keltin had associated with him since they’d first met. Jaylocke had been with Keltin for close to two years now. While that amount of time may not have been long compared to more traditional apprenticeships, Keltin and Jaylocke were not a typical master and student. What was perhaps most odd about them was the fact that Jaylocke was close to Keltin’s own age, having asked his friend to teach him a trade to meet the requirements laid down by his people’s traditions.

As a Weycliff Wayfarer, Jaylocke’s life had been defined by the unique abilities and hardships of his people. A nation without a home, the wayfarers were wanderers forced to live their lives on the fringe of the societies that often saw them as vagabonds, thieves, and practitioners of dark arts. For his part, Keltin had only had good experiences with Jaylocke and his people, though he acknowledged that the Weycliff possessed powers that set them apart as peculiar.

Somehow, wayfarers were able to call upon specific ancestors to temporarily borrow the knowledge and abilities of their forebears. The use of this ability not only required a deep knowledge of genealogy and family history, but strict adherence to their people’s customs and traditions. This included the edict that no wayfarer would be considered an adult until they had successfully learned a new trade to add to the collected pool of knowledge shared between the living members of the troupe and their ancestors.

For a long time, Jaylocke had enjoyed the benefits of his forebears’ aid while procrastinating his own duties to his people. After a painful separation from his ancestors’ help due to his negligence, Jaylocke had worked hard as Keltin’s apprentice to regain the use of his powers, though he would have to finish his apprenticeship before he could finally return to his father’s troupe and undertake the necessary rite to achieve adulthood among his people.

Keltin waited for Jaylocke to decide how they would proceed with the korric eel. The wayfarer considered for a moment, then drew Keltin close to whisper softly into his ear.

You take a position over by that berry bush. I’ll stand on that fallen log.

Do you want me to take the first shot?

Jaylocke took a deep breath and shook his head.

No, I’ll do it. Go ahead and choose your spot, and open fire when you hear Esmerelda say hello.

Jaylocke hoisted the rifle he’d named the day it had been gifted to him by a talented young gunsmith. Keltin dutifully went to the spot near the pearl berry bush and considered the beast above him. Its gray-green skin shimmered slightly in the sunlight. Looking closer, he saw what resembled spiked dorsal fins along its back that lay low to its body like sails brought down in a storm. Keltin glanced at Jaylocke and saw him taking aim. Keltin lifted his own rifle and waited for the signal.

Esmerelda gave a sharp report and the beast’s body quivered in response. The korric eel came awake with a banshee wail, its head rising up until Keltin could finally see it fully. Its eyes were large and pale, its mouth opened to reveal long, translucent teeth. A flappy pouch of skin at its throat enlarged as the dorsal fins sprang up like angry flags all along its length. Its upper back arched as it launched itself down towards the forest floor, moving with fluidlike grace along the bark of the cedar tree. Keltin pulled his rifle tight into his shoulder, aimed down its iron sights, and fired two shots at the beast as it made landfall on the forest floor. His shots were echoed by Jaylocke’s accompanying second volley. The beast was rocked by the blasts and crashed into the ground with far less grace than it had begun with.

The korric eel thrashed like a landed fish, attacking everything within its reach. Keltin turned and sprinted back to a safer distance, turning to see if the maelstrom of whirling coils and claws had come any closer. The beast’s pale, soft underbelly flipped up towards the sky as it rolled and thrashed on its back for long, agonizing minutes. Keltin watched with a grimace. He didn’t enjoy watching the beast suffer, but it was moving too fast for an execution shot, and he couldn’t risk getting close to finish it with the Ripper. Finally, the frantic movements of the korric eel slowed to long pauses broken by sudden, full-body spasms that rocked the nearby tree as the beast slammed against it. The beast’s movements gradually lessened until its sinuous body finally relaxed like a long coil of rope dropped on the forest floor. Keltin breathed a sigh of relief as the eel finally laid still.

He waited several more minutes, then approached the beast to consider its great length and form. He bent down to study its flank and the hook-like claws at the end of each of its limbs. He imagined being embraced by the beast in the inky depths of the cold Riltvinian sea and shuddered. Rising to his feet, he turned to see Jaylocke looking at the beast, his usual grin replaced with a frown.

What’s the matter? asked Keltin. Are you hurt?

Hmm? Oh, no, thank you. I’m just looking at those initial shots. You were aiming for the head, correct?

I was. You?

Jaylocke nodded and bent down near the gaping jaws of the korric eel. His index finger hovered over a pair of large, bleeding wounds near the base of its skull.

These are your shots. His finger moved down the length of the eel’s neck to another wound in the fleshy portion in its throat. This was one of my shots. My second one didn’t even connect. Jaylocke shook his head. If you hadn’t been here, this boil would still be up and about, likely gnawing on me like a hound with a bone.

It was moving pretty quickly. It’s hard to know which shot was whose.

Jaylocke gave Keltin a rueful smile and shook his head.

That’s generous of you, but you were using Capshire Shatter Rounds. I was using Reltac Spinners. Look, there’s the exit wound for my shot, while yours have none. You can see that my shot passed through without hitting anything vital while yours stopped and killed the beast.

Keltin looked at his apprentice. It was clear that Jaylocke was taking this hard. He attempted one more time to reassure him.

Maybe so, but it also takes a great deal of understanding of our trade to analyze which shots were whose and what effect they had. Your knowledge is certainly increasing. Besides, you likely would have had a similar effect if you’d chosen shatter rounds rather than spinners, so it’s not really a matter of marksmanship either.

Jaylocke fixed Keltin with a firm look.

Keltin, you’ve taught me that the difference between a dangerous beast and a dead beast is the right bullet in the right spot. Isn’t that right?

Keltin sighed and nodded.

I did say that. And it is still true.

Jaylocke nodded slowly in return. He paused one more time to look down at the beast, then turned and left to retrieve their gear. Keltin watched him, less worried about the progress of an apprentice and more concerned about his dear friend.

Chapter 1 – A Modest Proposal

Gillentown was the sort of small community that seemed to resist change. Sustained by an economy of lumber and nearby farmlands, the town had attained an unambitious, comfortable size without experiencing the population boom seen in larger Riltvinian settlements. Still, progress was a slow but unstoppable force, even here in the countryside. A new rail line was already under construction between Collinsworth and Jackson in the east. The Collinsworth Gazette reported that there was even talk of extending the line all the way to Gillentown, as two years of mediocre harvests in Krendaria had increased the nearby nation’s demand for imported food and other goods. Riltvinian businessmen were carefully considering the costs and gains of taming more of their nation’s wild country to meet the demand. Keltin knew some of these men, and while their business decisions were far outside of the scope of his own humble situation, he still paid careful attention to these larger economic developments. After all, more development often meant more work for beast hunters as displaced wildlife clashed with encroaching civilization.

But all those world events felt far away as Keltin walked Gillentown’s dirt roads. Everything was just as he remembered it. Gillentown was as close to a hometown as Keltin had ever felt he had. Each building, sound, and smell was familiar to him. It had been little more than a year since Keltin had last been in Gillentown, but in many ways, it felt like it had been far longer than that. It wasn’t all that long ago that he had hunted the hill country of Riltvin by himself, sending what little money he could spare to his mother and sister while living from one bounty to the next.

Now, he was a business owner with Jaylocke and his good friend Bor’ve’tai, trying to make rent for a business office in Collinsworth while also providing enough income to support himself and his two partners. Keltin shook his head as he considered his financial situation. Just a year ago, he’d been flush with money from a successful trip to the frozen northern country of Drutchland during a gold rush along the banks of the Wylow River. Unfortunately, the costs of maintaining an office and three partners had bled the business of money every month since the start of the new year, and his savings were almost gone.

It was these concerns that had motivated him to come to Gillentown. Besides a desire to visit with some old friends that he hadn’t seen in a while, he’d come to ask a favor of a man who had offered him help if he ever needed it. Severn Destov was the personal solicitor of Mr. Whitt, one of the most successful businessmen in Maplewood, Riltvin’s capital city. While Severn usually oversaw much of Mr. Whitt’s international investments from his home in Collinsworth, he’d recently brought his family with him to visit Gillentown and evaluate the potential for investing in the proposed rail line. Passing through town on his way back from the successful hunt of the korric eel, Keltin thought it would be prudent to stop off in his old hometown and see if he could gain some insight from Severn of how he could help get his own business back on track.

Turning the corner, he felt his heart lift to see the old familiar boarding house that had been his first home after leaving his mother and sister. Mrs. Galloway’s boarding house was a stately two-story dwelling, surrounded by rose bushes maintained by Mr. Renlowah, a Loopi gardener and longtime resident. Drawing closer, Keltin saw two welcome faces enjoying the early spring sunshine. A pair of elderly Loopi gentlemen were busily tending the roses together, patiently pruning the woody stems with large, gentle fingers. One of them paused in his work and straightened, turning to present Keltin and Jaylocke with a gentle, beatific smile.

Friends Keltin and Jaylocke, it is good to see you.

Keltin smiled warmly.

And you as well, Grel’zi’tael. You’re looking well.

The elderly, ape-like Loopi seemed more at peace than he had when Keltin had seen him last in the north of Drutchland, though Keltin worried whether more than a year of hard living on the road might have a lasting effect on his friend. Keltin thought of the many privations and hardships that Grel’zi’tael had been through. Facing discrimination as a Loopi and especially as a teacher of the ancient practice of Sky Talking, he had been driven from his home in Malpin and forced to flee the country with his student Val’ta’lir and his granddaughter Shar’le’vah. They were soon joined by Keltin’s good friend and current business partner Bor’ve’tai, fleeing south to Krendaria where they first met Keltin as fellow members of a massive campaign to stop an unprecedented infestation of beasts.  Later, the Loopi had made their way north to the frozen country of Drutchland to try to change their fortunes in the gold fields. While they hadn’t struck it rich, their ingenuity and strong work ethic had served them well, and Grel’zi’tael—along with his granddaughter and Val’ta’lir—were finally able to settle down in Gillentown.

Keltin forced himself back into the moment as his hand was enveloped in Gre’zi’tael’s grip for a dry, firm handshake. Keltin eyed the meticulously maintained rose bushes.

It looks like you’re keeping busy, he said. 

I prefer not to sit idle. My friend Renn’low’ha has proved an able teacher in his gentle art.

Keltin shook hands with his former fellow boarder, noting that Grel’zi’tael had used the old Loopi pronunciation of his name.

It’s good to see you, my boy, said Mr. Renlowah. I’m sure Mrs. Galloway will be glad to see you as well.

Is she inside?

She is.

Is Severn Destov here?

He has gone with Val’ta’lir to speak with the local farmers, said Grel’zi’tael, though the rest of the family is inside with Shar’le’vah.

We’ll go in and say hello then.

The Sky Talker smiled.

I’m sure you will find a warm reception.

Keltin and Jaylocke passed through the front door to find that nearly everything inside was just as Keltin remembered it. From the treasured decorative plates on the walls to the meticulously cleaned boot scraper in the hallway, the familiar setting felt safe and welcoming. He was half-tempted to go upstairs to look in on his old room, but decided against it.

He heard laughter and chatting in the sitting room, and went in to find Mrs. Galloway, Shar’le’vah, and Mrs. Destov with her adult daughter Elaine and younger sons Col and Derrick. The women were at a table playing cards while the two boys sat reading. Keltin and Jaylocke were greeted with a cheerful chorus of voices as they entered the room. Mrs. Galloway leapt up from her chair and rushed to Keltin to embrace him.

Oh Keltin! What are you doing here?

Keltin smiled.

I was hoping to find Mr. Destov, and thought that I would come by and see all of my favorite people at the same time.

Well, I’m so glad that you came! I haven’t seen you in ages.

Keltin silently nodded as he held the dear woman who had been so kind to him over the years. It hadn’t been that long ago that she had lost her only child, and Keltin was grateful to see her surrounded by kind-hearted people. Derrick—the youngest Destov boy—was on his feet and eagerly chattering at him.

Hello Mr. Keltin! Did you just come from a beast hunt? What kind of beast was it? Did you have to shoot it a lot? Was it as scary as those sleevaks we saw?

Please, Derrick, said his mother. I would prefer it if we never spoke of sleevaks again.

Keltin smiled and greeted everyone in the room, but his attention was riveted on Mrs. Destov’s eldest child. Keltin had first met Elaine Destov while hunting beasts during the Krendaria campaign. He’d found her trapped in her uncle’s farmhouse, somehow managing to keep herself and two of her uncle’s servants alive despite being surrounded by beasts for several long weeks.  Keltin had soon found himself trapped alongside her, and during that time he had found her to be a young woman of courage, compassion, and composure. Over time, the two of them had grown closer, until Keltin had finally written a letter expressing all of his deepest feelings for her, though he’d never had the courage to deliver it to her.

Now, looking at her standing beside the card table waiting patiently for her chance to greet him, he wondered if someone who didn’t know her would suspect that Elaine was capable of even half of the things he had seen her do. She seemed the epitome of feminine grace and elegance, her slender form complimented by a white and green dress that set off her emerald eyes as several dark ringlets of her hair framed her delicate features. Keltin felt himself holding his breath at the sight of her, and his heart stuttered as he was bathed in the brilliance of her warm, welcoming smile. Mrs. Destov leaned over to her daughter and whispered something in her ear, causing Elaine’s smile to deepen and her pale cheeks to color slightly. As they whispered together, Keltin became aware that the female Loopi had risen and come to stand beside him. Her fur was a lustrous black and her large eyes were full of liquid tenderness. Keltin smiled in recognition at her.

It’s good to see you, Shar’le’vah. I saw your grandfather outside. He looks well.

He is, thank you, friend Keltin. And how is Bor’ve’tai? It has been some time since we’ve seen him.

Strong and stalwart as ever.

Shar’le’vah’s gentle smile seemed equal parts bashfulness and quiet pride in Keltin’s Loopi business partner and close friend. Indeed, the two of them had seemed to harbor a gentle attraction to each other ever since Keltin had known them. In a way, he thought of them like two rivers slowly flowing towards each other. There was no anxiety or tension in their courting as they moved in a natural, gentle direction towards joining together. Keltin envied them.

His thoughts were interrupted as Mrs. Destov spoke with Keltin’s former landlady.  

Mrs. Galloway, I wonder if you could tell me where I might be able to have a hat repaired? I’m afraid mine has become worse for wear, and I fear it will come apart entirely before we return to Collinsworth.

The good woman released Keltin from her grip and turned to Mrs. Destov with a thoughtful frown.

Well, I’m sure we don’t have any milliners of the caliber you’d find in Collinsworth, but there is a tailor in town who is very good. I always take my hats to him, and I’ve never had a complaint about his work.

I’m sure that will be perfect. Mrs. Destov turned to Elaine. Dear, would you be so good as to take my hat to him?

Of course, though I’ll need directions.

Keltin spoke up quickly.

I could guide you there, if Mr. Bur’ja’row is still in the same place.

He is, said Mrs. Galloway.

That would be perfect, said Elaine.

Can I go too? asked Col.

You don’t want to bother visiting a tailor, said Jaylocke with a sly grin towards Keltin. Help me check our gear, and I’ll tell you about how Keltin brought down the korric eel.

Col’s eyes lit up as he eagerly followed Jaylocke out of the room with Derrick trailing along behind them. Keltin waited for Elaine to put on a shawl and bonnet against the spring chill. They stepped out together, exchanged friendly waves with Grel’zi’tael and Mr. Renlowah, and headed into the town.

I hadn’t expected to see you, said Elaine as they made their way down Gillentown’s main street. I’m glad that you chose to stop by to see Mrs. Galloway. She thinks the world of you.

Keltin smiled.

She’s a dear heart. How is she doing?

She seems to genuinely enjoy having the Loopi for boarders. I think she appreciates having a home full of people.

Keltin nodded, glad to hear that Mrs. Galloway was finding some joy in life. She was due some, particularly after the last few years.

Has she spoken of her daughter? he asked.

A little. I know that Shar’le’vah has been a great source of comfort for her since her daughter’s passing last fall. The only times that she’s brought her up to me is when mentioning some story involving her, you and Mary. I didn’t realize just how close you all were.

Keltin’s heart froze. How much had Mrs. Galloway told Elaine about his relationship with her daughter? Had she mentioned that Keltin had at one time proposed to Angela? Had she told of how Angela had not only