Diamonds Under a Hickory Tree

*A/N: This short story is available FREE on most websites. Amazon still hasn't caught up. I can't set it for free there. So I'm waiting on them to "Price Match" this story with all the other websites. If you like this story, PLEASE REVIEW IT ON AMAZON & GOODREADS!! I need reviews on Amazon & Goodreads. I need readers to be able to trust me, and for that I need reviews. PLEASE THE MAGE AND THE FRECKLED FROG, DIAMONDS UNDER A HICKORY TREE, AND THE CRIMSON CLAYMORE on Amazon & Goodreads!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE. I'm trying to start my career as an author, but readers who don't know me won't take a chance on me if I don' t have reviews to back me up. I love you guys, and will continue to release my unedited stuff here before publishing for money. I will always be looking for beta readers and reviewers. If you cannot afford to buy my stuff, I will give you free copies of my new releases in exchange for an honest review on AMAZON & GOODREADS. Let me know. If you can support me by buying, please do. I really want to write full time and I need your help.

Autumn leaves fell and scattered on the ground as Alvin knelt in the shadows of the hickory tree's skeletal branches. He did his best to recover as many of the hickory nuts as he could find before the ants got to them. A few greedy ants bit him, causing him to yelp and drop some of the nuts. Welts covered his ebony hands as he gathered nuts into his satchel. The winter would be rough, and with as little money as he had, scavenging seemed the only way to survive.

There wasn't a whole lot to hickory nuts. Most people considered them more trouble than they were worth. Eating a large handful of them was like trying to eat a small pomegranate and feel satisfied, except it was ten times the work. Alvin didn't care, though. Without them, he might very well starve.

Sloppy footsteps pounding through the dried leaves echoed in his ears. Nobody should be so careless in such a forest constantly crowded with bandits. Alvin didn't want to get involved with such troubles and swiftly got to his feet to hide behind the large tree. He felt bad for whatever poor soul was making himself a target, but what could he do? Alvin was old, nearly in his fifties, and he was only a human besides.

But his curiosity soon got the better of him, and he dipped his nose around the trunk to see a pale blue-skinned woman—a kheshlar by appearance—with sharp ears and silvery eyebrows. She tumbled through the trees not twenty meters away. She wore no leather armor, indicating she was no warrior, and her emerald satin dress was torn all across her body from bosom to thighs. Alvin ogled her, strangely aroused by her torn garments and bloody skin. Her face displayed what true horror should look like—mouth agape and silver eyes halfway bulged from their sockets. Her face showed desperation, and her eyes searched frantically, somehow giving Alvin the impression that she wasn't merely afraid for her own life, but for everybody. Blood and tears masked her face like a sloppy abstract painting, yet underneath the layer of crusted blood and horror stood a beautiful kheshlar woman.

Alvin's desperate lust for her betrayed him as he stepped out from behind the hickory tree. He didn't know why she allured him so. Was it because it had been so long, or could it just be that the appearance of a helpless kheshlar aroused him? Kheshlars were seldom helpless and easily dismissed humans as inferior. He approached the woman expecting her to look at him with disgust, but instead her silver eyes showed relief. She ran forward, half limping, while still peering warily behind her shoulder.

Before she could get more than a few steps two shapes appeared out of the shadows, startling Alvin when they stepped into the light. Both had the pointed ears and silver eyebrows of the kheshlars, but their skin was colored stone. Ebony hair fell to their shoulders, and their purple eyes glowing through the twilight sent crippling shivers down Alvin's spine.

Quivering terror befell the woman's face as she glanced back. She shrieked, her expression showing that she knew her secrets would die with her. Alvin didn't know why he drew his bow, but before he realized it, he had taken aim and secured his last arrow. He was a skilled archer—one of the few things that had kept him alive for so long. The winter would be long without any more arrows, but somehow he didn't care. Without a second thought, he released the bowstring.