Class Reptilia

Ember pushed through the double doors to the mess hall, grabbing a wooden tray and joining the line for the buffet. The hall was low in the ground and cavernous, with tables and seats carved from the roots of the trees above. Even though she’d come before the breakfast rush, it was already crowded with students who wanted an early start to their Saturday. 

Linnaeans jostled past her as she filled her plate with greens and strips of dried meat. She held the tray close to her chest and turned on her heel, fully intending to take the food back to her room as she had done for the past three days.

“Ember?” someone called, and she turned—reluctantly—to see Carn waving frantically from halfway across the hall. She glanced behind her, but there wasn’t enough time to disappear back into the crowd. 

Carn hurried up to her, smiling broadly. “This is my friend, Naz,” he said, gesturing at a small woman who had been hidden partway behind him. Ember’s eyes widened, her escape plan forgotten; Naz was stunningly beautiful, with a rounded face and delicate features. Every inch of her exposed skin shimmered with white and black scales arranged in intricate swirling patterns, and sprouting from her limbs were fan-like structures that waved gently with the airflow. 

She smiled shyly at Ember and reached out to shake hands. “We’re going rafting today on the Lion’s Tail,” Carn added. “Naz loves to swim. Why don’t you come with us?”

Ember opened her mouth, ready to decline out of habit, but both Naz and Carn’s hopeful expressions were too much to bear. “Okay…” she consented. “What time?”

“We’ll let you finish your meal, and we’ll pick you up in about an hour,” he grinned.

***

Ember was having second thoughts as she reached one leg onto the bamboo raft. It bobbed precariously, threatening to dislodge Carn, who was already at the helm. “You’ve got to go for it!” he shouted, holding his arms out sideways like a circus performer. Ember swallowed, propelling herself onto the back of the raft and landing on her knees. It sunk deeper into the water but held steady. A moment after, Naz leaped gracefully to the center, her fans flaring outwards to help her stay balanced. 

Looking relieved, Carn fished a long pole from the riverbank and pushed the raft out into deeper water. The river was beautifully serene: crystal clear, and shallow enough to see the bottom. Tiny creatures darted in and out of aquatic weeds that trailed in the direction of the currents. Above, tree branches crisscrossed over the water, making it seem as though they were tunneling underneath the canopy. 

Ember found herself relaxing as they settled into a gentle drift. Carn steered the raft as Naz flitted back and forth, leaning over the side and letting her fans drag through the water. The stretch of river was quiet, with only a few other Linnaeans rafting or canoeing. A few turtles sunned themselves on the bank, and Ember’s heart nearly stopped when an alligator as large as a small tree floated past them without a sound. She gasped, but Carn just steered them away and Naz withdrew her hand from the water, relatively unphased. 

To Ember’s surprise, the usually rambunctious Carn was calm and still, only offering a few words when they passed a landmark of interest. Naz asked Ember a couple of questions, through which Ember discovered they were all in their first year, although both Carn and Naz had taken summer classes. After that, the three fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

The sound of a gurgling roar preceded the rapids. Carn warned them to crouch down and hold the raft, and they catapulted into the mess of rushing water and river rocks. Ember yelped as the raft shook and tilted, dislodging one of the bamboo supports. They rebounded off of the bank, rotating backward and sideways until her head spun. Carn shouted in amusement, grabbing Naz with one arm to keep her from falling into the churning water. 

Ember squeezed her eyes shut, saying a quick prayer. Why did I agree to this?! 

Just as she thought the shaking would make her teeth fall from her skull, the rapids ended as suddenly as they had started. The raft floated slowly around a bend and she breathed a sigh of relief, wringing out her soaked ponytail and collapsing onto her butt. 

“Ember, look,” Naz said softly, pointing past the bow. Ahead, the river opened into a large pool, protected at the entrance by a rope net. On the opposite shore was a small beach, occupied by a dozen Linnaeans sunbathing and playing a game of ball. Their shouts wafted over the water, breathing life and excitement into the otherwise tranquil scene. Others swam or laid in hammocks strung between the trees, napping or reading cloth-wrapped books. 

Carn guided the raft over the net and they floated to shallower water near the beach. As soon as the rocky bottom was visible, Naz hummed with excitement and slipped off the raft. Ember rushed to the edge to watch as her scales glittered and her fans opened, propelling her through the water as naturally as a bird through the air. Tiny gill slits opened a few inches below her ears, pulsing open and closed as she danced around the raft. 

“What is she?” Ember asked softly.

“A pisces. Some type of loach,” Carn replied with admiration. “She’s lived in Mendel since she was a child.” Grinning, he pulled off his shirt and jumped into the water with a heavy splash. Ember couldn’t help but laugh as his head popped out a moment later, his ears sopping wet. Ember rolled up her pants and let her legs drag in the water as she watched them play. Carn doggy-paddled around the raft, chasing Naz in circles—hopelessly—although she eventually gave in and let him tag her. He grew tired soon after and waded to the riverbank, where he joined a group of young men using a rope swing to flip into the water. 

Naz dove down, catching minnows and crawfish in her hands to show to Ember. After a little convincing, Ember went on a short swim around the raft but returned soon after, stunned by the cold and wary of the lake fish. “I don’t think you’re a pisces,” Naz teased, and Ember wholeheartedly agreed.

They settled with their elbows on the raft, chatting casually, when a scream came from the beach. It split the air, terrible and all-consuming, and Ember’s heart jumped into her throat. Bounding  toward them was a woman with giant ears and a sloped snout. Her wide eyes were filled with a terror so acute, so overwhelming, that it made Ember tremble. Behind her, running in full stride, was a wolf-man covered in thick grey fur, his lips drawn back and his head lowered, locked onto his prey with every fiber of his being. 

Ember jumped off the raft and swam to shallower water, keeping her gaze trained on the shore. Naz surfaced by her side and took her arm, her whole body trembling. “Bloodlust…” she whispered. 

The wolf-man dove at the woman, locking his jaws around her back leg and eliciting another horrible scream. A couple of brave Linnaeans jumped on the pair, trying to break them apart, but their punches and kicks slid off of his hide uselessly. Beneath them, Ember could see the blood as it spilled from the wolf-man’s canines and stained the sand. 

After a moment of hesitation, Ember ran to the beach, leaving Naz behind. She tried to push through the mess of jostling bodies but was flung back, powerless against the chaos of the multitude. Then, suddenly, a shape brushed past her, his ginger tail whipping through the air behind him as he threw himself between the man and the woman. It was Carn, but his kind face transformed as his ears flattened against his head and he snarled. He sunk his teeth into the back of the man’s neck, adding his strength to the others and ripping him off of his prey. 

Together, the Linnaeans scrambled to pin the wolf-man. He writhed, froth spilling from his bloody maw, and nearly dislodged them all. His eyes, orange and bloodshot, were wild and uncomprehending. Ember rushed forward and wrenched his left arm into the sand, turning her face away from his snapping jaws. 

It was Carn who finally forced the wolf-man into submission. His knife-like canines bit into the skin of the man’s neck and he stilled, wheezing, then collapsed onto the sand as the breath left his lungs and he fell unconscious. The others hurried forward, wrapping the woman’s leg in a makeshift cloth binding and reassuring her as she cried. One of her long legs was mangled and gushing blood, shot through with yellow and white where fat and bone were exposed. 

Ember turned, her stomach churning, and caught sight of Carn a few yards away. He was frozen in place, his head lowered and his patches of fur all standing on end. She neared slowly, watching as his chest rose and fell at a desperate pace. “Are you okay?” she asked softly, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “I don’t know what happened with that man, but you-”

Carn flinched away and met her eyes, cutting her off. With his lips drawn back and his canines dripping in blood, he was terrifying to behold. Ember recoiled, her hand hanging uselessly in the air and her face twisted with shock. 

“What?” he spat, blood spraying over his bare chest and onto the sand. “Did you think mutations were just for show?”

“I was just trying to-”

“Carn, calm down,” Naz injected, appearing behind Ember. “You did the right thing.” 

Obediently, he shut his mouth and took a deep breath, a shudder running down his body.  “I need to be alone for a minute.” 

Ember and Naz retreated as he sat down on the sand, head in his hands. “He’s right, you know,” Naz said. “I saw your look; you were horrified by him.”

“He was… wild. Feral.” 

“What you saw—that side of him—is just as legitimate as anything else. He is as much an animal as he is a human. Without him, that rabbit might have died.”

Ember took a deep breath and tried to understand. “What about the wolf? He tried to eat someone. Could that happen to any of us?”

Naz’s eyes darkened. “No. That was bloodlust, and he brought it upon himself.” Ember wanted to press, but Naz had gone silent, her big eyes fixed on Carn. A moment later, a horn blasted as a group of Linnaeans in uniform broke through the small crowd, loading the victim onto a stretcher and pulling the wolf-man to his feet. 

“Let’s go talk to Carn,” Naz said. 

“He’s not mad at me?”

“I’m sure he’s just embarrassed,” she said, gripping Ember’s arm and pulling her gently along. 

An unexpected lump formed in Ember's throat, and she realized that at some point during their trip, she had become fond of the strange pair. As Carn looked up at them and grinned half-heartedly, her shoulders sagged with relief. 

If I’m going to live in Mendel, maybe I don’t want to be completely alone.