Available at The Genre Mall
or
Email Rhonda@jofigure.com for a signed copy
$9.00 US in the US and Canada (includes shipping)
$10.00 US overseas

Z’thandra, the last swamp elf in Aphanasia, lives with the Reptar, a fierce race of lizard-people, most of whom resent her presence and want her gone from their village. When she discovers a human in the swamp and falls in love with him she must face the most difficult decision of her life. Will she pursue a life of happiness with the man she loves and in doing so condemn the Reptar to extinction, or will she chose to sacrifice her future to offer them hope? In the end the choice she makes will affect the Reptar for generations.

“Straight fantasy has to be really good to hold my interest. “Shades of Green” is absolutely excellent! Among the best fantasies I’ve read, a tale that unfolded smoothly and drew me in from the start. You’ll find yourself sincerely concerned for young Z’thandra and her plight. Parrish is one talented writer!”

-Marge Simon, Stoker winner, VECTORS: A Week in the Death of a Planet, 2008.

~*~

Reviews:
~  Amber Stults, Book Reviewer ~ Book Reviews by Aubrie ~ Imperfect Clarity ~ A (biased) Reader Reacts ~ The Way I See It ~ Coffee Time Romance ~ The Fickle Hand of Fate ~ Alternative Read ~

Chapter One
Aphanasia 1690

“Z’thandra we’re out of water.”

Z’thandra turned over and opened her eyes to see a pair of scaly-green feet. Pushing her thin, grey blanket off herself she looked up and smiled sleepily. “Good morning, Ulda”

The Reptar woman smiled back at her, transforming her face from fierce to maternal. Her entire body was devoid of hair, and a long, thick tail trailed behind her on the cracked stone floor. She was covered in scales, mostly dark green but with occasional spots of golden yellow and clad in a skirt and blouse that, while of good quality, were mismatched and fit poorly. “Good morning, Z’thandra. We’re out of water.”

“I’ll get some in just a minute.” Z’thandra answered in Reptarian. Even now, after years of using the language the words felt foreign and it took some effort to wrap her tongue around them first thing in the morning.

“Thank you.”

Ulda turned and left the room, tugging a poorly-hung door closed behind her with a squeak. Z’thandra stretched and rose from her bed on the floor. Looking down at the straw mattress covered with a scratchy blanket she thought it looked more like a nest than a bed. She considered straightening out the blanket for a second, but quickly dismissed the idea and wandered over to the closet-like room attached to her bedroom.

The room was very small, and while it had four walls it lacked a ceiling of any kind. A rusted metal faucet with a basin inset in the counter beneath it moldered in one corner. A cracked mirror hung haphazardly from a nail driven into the crumbling mortar between the stones in the wall and in the corner, a wooden seat with a hole cut in the center served as a toilet.

Z’thandra relieved her straining bladder, then went over to the faucet. She put a stopper in the bottom of the basin and, ignoring the taps, poured a small amount of water from the pitcher on the counter into the sink and washed up with it. While she washed she studiously avoided looking down into the water, choosing instead to study her distorted reflection in the glass.

Her eyes were a dark cerulean blue, and her skin the color of bark. Her hair was dark green, like some of the moss that hung from the trees in the spring. It was also incredibly long and thick. Usually it was twisted into elaborate braids but since she’d just woken it tumbled down her back until its tips brushed against the back of her knees.

She smiled as she studied her cheeks for blemishes and found none. It seemed Ulda’s secret swamp recipe really had gotten rid of them all – just one more thing to be grateful to her for. Z’thandra swept a washcloth across her face and down her neck, then, satisfied she was ready to face the day, used the pitcher to scoop out the remaining water from the basin and dump it in the latrine.

On the way back into her bedroom, she stubbed her toe on the uneven floor.

“Blet!” she grimaced, and grabbed onto her chest of drawers for support, only to feel the corner of them give way beneath her weight. She barely managed to keep her balance long enough to lower herself slowly to the ground, where she sat for a very long time, holding her injured foot and staring at the splintered bits of wood that had once been the foot of her dresser. “Blet,” she said, this time under her breath.

An hour later, with the corner of her dresser propped up with an appropriately-sized stone from the garden and a wooden bucket in each hand, Z’thandra followed the path beside the old irrigation pipes from her home out toward the small freshwater lake. The pipes always made her sad, and this morning was no exception. They came up to her knees, in the places where they weren’t collapsed, and had been carved out of the trunks of trees that grew many miles from here. Once, the Reptar had only to turn a tap and water would stream from the faucets – once. Now they were a mess, clogged and overgrown, rotting and unusable. Ulda said they’d not worked in her lifetime and yet, here they were.

She sighed and tried to imagine what they must have been like when they’d worked and been maintained – amazing no doubt. They were impressive still all these years later. How long had passed since the last trickle had flowed through them? Two hundred years? Three? Had the Reptars on the other side, the ones receiving the water,
known they were going to be the last to ever use them?

Realizing she was almost to the lake, Z’thandra pulled herself out of her reverie and scanned the area around her, looking for the scrap of dirty cloth the villagers used to mark old pit-traps. The Reptars had once used deep pits for hunting – crocodiles and other animals would fall through the thin branches covered with leaves and find themselves trapped in a deep hole. The hunters could then spear them at their leisure, without risk of injury. Their enemies, too, had more than occasionally breathed their last from the bottom of a pit. Like the irrigation pipes the traps had fallen into disrepair and as hunters died their locations had become something of a mystery. When one was found the villagers left it in place to protect the village, but marked its location with a scrap of cloth – easily missed by those who weren’t looking for them. Z’thandra had walked this route enough to know there was one nearby and she didn’t want to discover its exact location the hard way.

Her eyes meandered over every scrub plant and diminutive tree, but still she didn’t see the marker. Had she already passed it? She turned to look behind her, but saw nothing there either. Where was it? She could use her heatvision if she concentrated, but that always made her feel ill so it wasn’t her first choice for a solution.

Just as the tension knotted in the bottom of her stomach began to unfurl and send tendrils of fear throughout her body, Z’thandra heard the unmistakable sound of giggling in the bushes to her left.

“That’s funny is it Orga?”

An adolescent Reptar stepped out of the shrubs. Her scales were various shades of grey and a malicious grin marred what would otherwise be an attractive face, for a Reptar. “Oh, what’s wrong elf?” she sneered. “Can’t you see the way to go?”

Z’thandra sighed. “This isn’t funny – if I fall into the pit I could be seriously hurt.”

“Yeah, and if that happened I’d feel so bad.”

“Orga, I—”

“You what, elf? You didn’t ask to come live with us? It’s not your fault mother found you in the swamp and brought you home? You’ve never done anything to me. Wah, wah, wah. I’ve heard it all before and I. Don’t. Care.”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Orga rolled her eyes and stomped back through the underbrush toward the village. “Good luck Z’thandra. I sure hope you pick the right direction and don’t fall and break a leg.”

“Blet!” Z’thandra cursed under her breath and stifled the urge to stamp her foot like a child. She sighed and then pursed her lips, screwing up her face and concentrating. For a split second she wondered if it was meant to be this hard to switch from normal to heatvision, but since she didn’t think any others of her race were alive, there was no way to find out for sure. Shoving that particularly unpleasant thought back to the depths of her brain where it belonged, she focused her attention on her eyes, gritted her teeth and put all her energy into it.

Deep within her she felt something snap, as it always did. Like a musician plucking the string on an instrument, the note reverberated through her and when she opened her eyes again it was as though she were looking at a whole different world. Instead of the usual, rather bland, earthy colors of the swamp, Z’thandra saw a world of bright, shifting lights. The shapes of things in front of her were the same, but instead of seeing them as she had, she saw each thing differently depending on its warmth. Scanning the ground it was now quite easy to pick out where the pit was. The hollow pocket it made in the ground was a different color than the surrounding soil.

Z’thandra slowly picked her way around it, buckets in hand. As she made her way toward the beach, she began to feel the weakness in her knees and flutter in her stomach that always accompanied her heatvision, but she gritted her teeth and kept going. She paused each time she found a pit to mark it with whatever she could find nearby, piles of stones or sticks driven into the ground. Later, she told herself, she would return to find the original scraps of cloth and mark them that way once more.

She was almost at the lake when she caught a glimpse of something across the water. She paused and watched as something human-sized and roughly human-shaped, moved through the trees. It darted from trunk to trunk, pressing against them and moving furtively. Her suspicions aroused Z’thandra took another step closer and tripped.

Landing in the damp earth she scraped the palms of her hand against something round and scaly. The pain brought an abrupt end to her concentration and her heatvision.

“Drek,” she heard a familiar voice curse as the world returned to its normal colors. From her position on her hands and knees in the dirt she looked down and saw a thick armored tail, green with black diamonds down the center. Following it up to the face of the Reptar it belonged to she sighed.

“I’m sorry Eerna, I was using heatvision and when I do that I can’t see Reptars because you blend in with your –”

“If you can’t see Reptars when you do it,” Eerna snarled, jerking her tail away from Z’thandra, “then you shouldn’t use it while you’re living with Reptars, should you?”

Z’thandra could feel her stomach flipping over and over and swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat. “I’m sorry Eerna,” she whispered, scrambling to her feet and wiping ineffectually at the mud that stained her skirt. “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not!”

“Oh, Eerna,” Z’thandra called out as the older Reptar started toward the path back to the village. “Be careful, Org—erm, someone moved the markers for the pits. I put up stone piles and –”

“Using ‘heatvision’ and then changing the markers for the pits? Keep it up Z’thandra and I’ll have you hauled in front of the council!”

“But I didn’t –”

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today, I’ll let it pass, but you put those markers back right away, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Z’thandra answered, dropping her eyes to the ground. “I understand ma’am.”

As the Reptar made her way back toward the village, Z’thandra went to the edge of the lake and filled her buckets. Avoiding looking at the reflections on the water, Z’thandra directed her eyes toward the horizon and suddenly remembered what she’d been looking at before she’d tripped over Eerna’s tail. There was something on the other side of the lake!

She scanned the tree line, but without her heatvision it was impossible to pick anything out, and her nausea prohibited her from trying to use it again. Filling the buckets as quickly as she could, she scurried back toward the village, feeling invisible eyes drilling into the space between her shoulder blades the whole way.

~*~