by L. S. Kyles
Chapter 30
The house—or mansion, as Iman called it—was not what Mums had expected. Most of the shingles were spilling from the roof, about half the chimney was lying in the water, and the north-end wall appeared ready to fall over.
She put her hands on her hips and gave it yet another sweep of her all-seeing eyes. She knew the colony of Elnor had been soaking here for the last ten generations, but wasn’t there a place with a little less decay? Maybe something without a hole in the north wall, or something without a roof that sagged like an old melon?
The parasitic vegetation she accepted. It stuck to everything in the bog and was most likely the only thing holding the colony together. That having been said, she would have preferred a hideout where the doors and windows were not clogged with the stuff.
Not to cast aspersions, but the front door to this particular specimen had so much snot-green moss on the frame that it was about half its original width, and she couldn’t even see the windows, not for all the flesh-colored tendrils tangling off the roof.
“This is it?” she asked, taking a step back from the leaning palace.
“It sure is,” Iman said, looking like a disciple at the gates of Glory. “See what I mean!”
“Oh, I see it,” Mums said, letting her eyes travel to the remains of the chimney on the south side, its uneven maw missing several of the reddish-gray bricks.
Pointing a finger at the swayback roofing, Iman said, “I know it’s a little farther inside the colony than you wanted, but it’s got an upstairs, right? And it’s got windows, you see the vines,” he jabbed his finger at them, “they’re like curtains, like extra cover for when you peek outside.”
“It’s definitely well covered,” Mums said, thinking the place looked like it was being eaten alive, “but are there others? Other places we can look at?”
Iman spun towards her, his face and shoulders dropping. “Well, yeah,” he said, giving her a wounded look. “There are others, sure…but none this nice.”
Mums’ thick titan features tried to frown at the captain. She had seen the four vertical logs fronting the establishment (a colonnade of sorts holding up the porch) and she had seen the engraved framework dangling over the door—as well as the decorative trim being swallowed by the vines—but none of it was nice.
It’s regal, perhaps, she thought to herself, but it’s not nice…and it hasn’t been nice for a very long time.
Rather than speak this aloud, however (and risk hurting the good captain’s feelings), she said, “And you think it will hold?”
“Oh, it’ll hold,” Iman assured her, cocking back his head and giving her a slow and steady nod. “I’ve been in ones even ol—”
“It will hold me?”
Iman ran his eyes the length of her, turned to the crumbling estate, then turned back to Mums. With a shrewd cringe in his eyes, he said, “I, uh…I think so. I mean, yeah, I know it’s got vines and stuff on all over it, and there’s probably some mildew—”
Probably?!
“—but I bet it’s still sound. I mean, when I used to visit this place, I had Jaysh with me. So that’s like…twice the weight.”
“And the two of you were how old?”
Iman shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess we were smaller.” He held up his hands and waved back her incredulity. “All right, I’ll tell you what. If you fall through the porch, I’ll have a quick look around and we’ll, uh…we’ll see if there’s something else.”
Mums waited for her stunned speechlessness to pass, then said, “Iman dear, this may come as quite a shock…but I am not interested in falling through anything. Reetsle,” she said, glancing down at the halfling on her right. “Reetsle, what do you think about the place?”
With his chin cocked up and his blue and brown eyes squinting, Reetsle said, “Not much.”
Mums nodded. “Me either.”
“Oh, come on!” Iman whined, his arms held out at his sides. “You haven’t seen the inside.”
“Actually, Iman dear, I can see the inside,” Mums corrected, gesturing to the enormous hole in the right side of the building, “and I am not impressed.”
She turned to the rest of the colony, a cemetery of buildings hemming her in. Had the colony been established geometrically and with some thought given to streets, she would say they were four or five blocks from the eastern limits and still within sight of the surrounding bog.
In the captain’s defense, he had satisfied two of the three criteria set before him. He had found a place within half-a-day’s march from the banks of the Dell and he had found a place with a second floor (the latter requirement crucial for those in the party who were covered in fur and at risk of pelt rot).
With regard to the third criterion, however—finding a structure capable of supporting the immense weight of a titan—the good captain had seriously missed the mark.
Or maybe he didn’t miss anything, she amended, panning her great head from one end of the colony to the other. Maybe there’s no mark to hit.
She trudged back the way she came, cast her eyes down one watery street after the other, and the view did not change. On either side of the submerged road, and as far as the naked eye could see, it was simply more of the same. Whether they were one-room hovels or multi-roomed businesses, the level of decay was uniform.
After three or four blocks of this, she gave up and splashed back to the mold-infested manor. The captain stood poised for an answer, but she promptly ignored him, consulting with the halfling instead. Reets, who had wandered south for a look around, gave a report which sounded similar to her own. He had seen a few buildings without holes, but none that didn’t lean, and it was the leaning that bothered her. She could always avoid the holes.
As the conversation wore on, the captain’s eyes grew more and more intense, his head nodding like an old man with palsy.
“So this works?” Iman asked. “We can go in?”
Mums lifted her eyes to mansion, felt a grimace twisting at her mind, and tilted her gaze higher. She found the white blur of the sun hanging about half way between the skeletal treetops in the east and its absolute zenith overhead.
Timing will be crucial, she had told them, shortly after leaving the horses. No matter how far we go and no matter what the creature does, we must be moving in the direction of shore by midday.
She turned to the east and peered back through the flooded colony, back at the place in the vines and trees where their pursuer would eventually emerge. The mossy eyesore at her heels would be a miserable pit at best, but even it was preferable to the rolling horror behind them.
“I suppose this will do,” she said, turning her glare to the mansion. “It will have to.”
An eager hand lit on her shoulder. “You won’t regret this, Mums,” Iman told her. “You won’t! I promise you that.” He leapt for the porch, slowed as he met the vines in the doorway, and Mums barely had time to stop him.
“Iman Dear—Iman!”
Iman stopped at the entryway and cocked his head at her.
Mums said, “You do remember we’re hiding?”
With one arm parting the fleshy vines, the captain said, in a confused tone of voice, “I’m just looking around.”
“Quietly?”
Still looking perplexed, as though she’d asked him to take his boots off so he didn’t track in, Iman muttered a, “Okay, sure,” and disappeared through the vines.
Mums made to call after him, to reiterate the delicacy of their situation—which he obviously failed to grasp—but before she could, she heard the halfling splashing away.
“Reetsle!” she said, spinning after him. “Reetsle, what are you doing?”
At the corner of the manor, Reetsle stopped and gave her a questioning look, one very similar to the expression Iman had just made, only darker and with more irritation.
Leaning to the right, he spat at the inky waters and said, “Thought I’d make that false trail….,” he
glanced east and licked his lips, “…if’n it’s ah’right with you?”
Mums dropped her shoulders and raised a hand to her chest. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’m…,” she trialed off, the tension draining from her head and the foolishness rushing in. “Go ahead, Reetsle. I’m sorry. My nerves are a tad…frazzled, that’s all.”
Reetsle stared at her, taking it all in. She had hoped he’d say something like, Ah, doan’ worry bout it, or Tha’s ah’right, Mums, or Hey, doan’ sweat it. Instead, he grunted that he had heard and glanced at the sun. When he’d finished checking the time, he turned without a word and marched around the manor.
Under normal circumstance, Mums would have been incensed by the slight….but not today. Today, she was as much to blame as the halfling. Her nerves were shot and she had snapped at him for doing what they had agreed he should do. She needed to settle down, and soon.
Because if you don’t, she thought, listening to the sound of halfling boots swooshing through the waters, you know what they say about titans and nerves…
When the sloshing footfalls had receded deep into the colony, Mums glanced at the vine-knotted door beside her and listened for the captain. Despite her final warning before he dove between the vines, she heard what sounded like furniture being scooted across floorboards.
Making a mental note to remind Iman of their need for stealth, she pulled her hand from her chest and held it out before her. She could see the muscles shivering minutely beneath the thick coat of fur.
It’s starting, she thought, dropping the hand to her side and flexing the fingers. She stood like that for quite some time, opening and closing her hand, shaking it like a rag. When the worst of the tremors were gone, she pushed through the tendrils and splashed inside.
