by J D Cowan
If that lone phantom had been guarding the mansion, he couldn’t help but imagine what wandered in the Deep Woods, waiting for them.
As they crossed the lonely road, wind blew in the distance. Jason glanced around wildly.
“Are you sure we’re not walking into a trap?” the boy asked. “They might’ve planted that map.”
“It’s the only lead we’ve got. We’re going to have to take them on regardless of what they have. Keep Pollux ready. You’re gonna need it.”
The two crossed a small wooden bridge over a thin, black creek. The green brush covered forest led into even thicker fog. Even if they were out of that house, Matthew couldn’t breathe easy yet. Shaula was somewhere on the road ahead.
Chapter 16
What Lies in the Deep Woods
Jason might not have had Matthew’s heightened sixth sense, but he also wasn’t stupid. The quiet won in the mansion already begun to fade the further they traveled from the town. The trees became even more knotted and warped and not a single bird chirped through the green mist. This made it harder for Jason to tell Matthew his thoughts.
But maybe that was for the best. Matthew had been acting odd since the attack on the abbey. The two of them had not been on the best terms since they met, but there was always a bit of detached feeling from their situation. They wouldn’t be here forever: they would be going home eventually. Assuming they got that bomb out of him.
Meanwhile, the older warrior continued to trace the map in silence and Jason followed.
Wind blew from every direction and without any consistency in force. The muggy atmosphere persisted despite the gust, and the fog refused to part. The hard earth and rock made leaving a trail impossible. The weather worked against them the whole way.
They walked for what felt like hours with familiar rock formations and long branches passing them by multiple times. Jason knew they had to be going in circles, but Matthew wouldn’t have it. The map had to be going in the right direction, according to him.
“It’s a fake, Matthew,” Jason hissed. “Rantan left it there on purpose.”
“That’s a lot of work for a forgery, especially when he had that Phantom that would kill intruders. Keep close. We’re almost there.”
“Let me see it.”
Matthew shoved the parchment into Jason’s chest and kept walking. “Do what you want.”
“No need to be angry. I just wanted to confirm.”
“I’m telling you what my sixth sense already knows. Dead ahead. If you don’t trust me then you can turn back.”
Then why did it feel like they saw the same sights? Was it merely some trick of the forest? Did Nieto’s magic reach out here? He couldn’t deny that he was out of his depth.
He handed back the map. Matthew took it, wide-eyed at the move.
“Done already?” he asked.
Jason blandly looked to the masked sky. “Nothing to be done. Just do what you have to.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I think we’ve got a bigger problem to worry about.”
The further they traveled the more Jason began to see what he meant. The heavy humidity lifted and the wind died. Eventually, the fog lightened, but that same feeling Jason had back in the house wouldn’t shake. They closed in on a darker force.
Then the mist split and fall away toward an outer ring on an invisible border. They crossed through the green tint and into the open area. This was once a town. Once. But unlike the one they had just left, there was no tavern or street full of hollering criminals.
Broken buildings and wooden houses were crushed and battered, emptied for miles. In the very center, a large towering tree like a mighty oak twisted into the sky with branches as big as a flying ship. Its roots twisted and traveled down through the buildings and had been embedded there for a long time. Familiar purple mist wafted from the foliage into the capped sky of the dead town. He needed to get there. A voice whispered and told him to run.
The pair crossed into the middle of the street and realized the presence of something other than people. Growling wolves emerged from the alleys and roofs.
Howls cut the cool air of the starless sky. Stone wolves near his height stood in the streets and on the rooftops. Snarls broke from the pack.
“We should go,” Matthew said.
“No, we shouldn’t. We need to get to that tree.” His heart beat like a jackhammer on six times the speed. The Kharis Seed wanted him there.
“You’ve come,” the cloaked man said. He emerged from the broken doorway. “Good night.”
“Rantan,” Matthew replied. “I see why you didn’t worry about anyone finding the map.”
“I certainly didn’t think I would find you here tonight,” Rantan said. “You appear surprised to see me. That must mean you ran across me in town. But that wasn’t who you think. It was a copy from that man over there.”
The familiar lanky figure of the man in black armor leaned against the opposite house. The Cutter nodded blandly to both warriors. He crossed through the wolves toward Rantan.
“What do we do?” Jason whispered. “Do we take them on or run for it?”
“You say there’s something in that tree and I believe it. That magic pouring off it is a bad sign.”
Two enemy warriors and enough stone wolves to be a big problem moved in on them. Matthew and Jason took hold of their swords and shields.
“Go for the roofs,” Matthew whispered. “Head for the tree. I’ll try to distract them by going for the homes. They’ll be after me.”
“Why?”
He smiled at the boy. “I’m the weaker one. You make a run, get what you need over there, and I’ll be behind you.”
Jason shifted his attention from Matthew to the approaching horde. He couldn’t think of a better plan. Perhaps they would even chase him instead. But that was wishful thinking. He would just have to hope Matthew had a plan.
Without looking his friend in the eyes, Jason crouched low, felt the dirt buckle under his boots, and jumped. He soared upwards into the night air and landed on a nearby thatched roof. The straw surface buckled under his weight, leading him to leap to the next and then the one after. Behind him, teeth snapped and growls echoed.
The thatch roof splintered under the pressure of his weight as he moved forward, but a new sight appeared at his side. On the house across the row to his left, a shape sped towards him. A large lizard-like man with fire red scales for skin leaped across the road. This was the Rantan Matthew had told him about.
“Did you think I’d be letting you go, boy?” the lizard hissed. “No chance of that.”
A heavy queasiness overcame Jason for a moment. The boy flinched and missed Rantan bounding directly for him.
Before Jason could react, the large beast brought its sword down on his head.
Matthew made it across the street and barreled into the busted door. The snapping of teeth blew hot air against the back of his helmet. He turned and slammed his blade down. The first wolf through the door had its rock head cleaved in two. Two more burrowed into the room while the first wolf crumbled. All he could do was move backwards through the shambling structure.
He found a large open hole near the top of the crumbled wall by the rotting bed. The wolves dove into the cramped space after him. He slipped into mist and poured through the opening. Barks echoed after him as he reformed on the other side.
The scratching of claws slapped up against the broken wall behind him. He caught his breath and his bearings. One problem solved.
But a heavy weight suddenly crashed inside his chest. His head swam, sweating profusely. He ran a hand across his brow, and the sudden illness faded.
“What was—”
An axe flashed for his head. Matthew ducked, and the weapon beat into the stone. The one called The Cutter now stood before him with blank eyes watching him without expression.
“You move well, Castor.”
“I’ve had practice.” The scratching behind him ceased, and the p
adding of claws retreated. The wolves were coming around. “That’s one thing about Tyndarus: you’re always trying to avoid a blade getting buried in your neck.”
“I understand you better than you know. But you are not ready for the three of us.”
The dead town lingered like stained ash on Matthew’s thoughts. This place wasn’t like the Thieves’ Town. This village had been destroyed. Burned rock and wood, bones, and slash marks adorned every building and alley crevice. It had to have something to do with that dark tree.
Across the way was a tavern, two floors with only the front wall smashed open. He would need to funnel the pack in to allow him a quick escape route. The other hovels were little more than glorified grave markers with only a wall or two to remind passersby that people once lived here. The tavern was his best bet for shelter.
That heavy weight grew in his chest again. Matthew bit his lip and tried to fight it off with some speech. “Why do they call you The Cutter?”
“I would think that was self-evident. Why do they call you Matthew?”
The wolves tumbled around the corners of the house toward him, biting and howling. Their large paws clawed and tore into the earth.
“Follow me to find out.”
Matthew ran across the open road. He leaped through the broken wall, and several wolves charged in after him. With a bang he hit the floor and waited for the first wolf to come upon him. The beating of paws grew louder outside.
The first large wolf body blasted into him with a heavy weight, smashing against his armor. He bounced against the floor in time to see the paw slash his face. His helmet rang with the hit, barely protecting him from the blow. Jaws dug for his throat. Matthew slashed, striking and fracturing the stone neck. The beast whined and fell back. Matthew rolled back up in time for a second wolf to dive in from the side. He batted it to the side with his shield.
The two stone wolves circled him, and more converged on the entrance outside. His thoughts began to drift. This strange feeling kept coming and going like a breeze. Still, he kept his sword swinging.
“Do you want the woman that much, Castor? She is just like every other Earthwalker on Tyndarus: destined to blow away in the very dust we were created from. What use is a puppet that won’t dance for her master? You are not like us. You are destined for greater things.”
The first wolf sprang from behind Matthew. He ducked and stabbed upward, piercing its rock gut. The stone broke open with its cry. The cracked corpse touched down and shattered into thousands of pieces. He rounded on the second wolf before it could also join the fray.
“Are you still attempting to return to your world? What use is that? You will become one of us eventually. Throw down your arms before the bracelet is damaged.”
Matthew backed up towards the stairs as the growling wolf slunk towards him. It moved at a glacial pace, its solid form rumbling. He ascended the steps one foot at a time with the beast snapping at him. Wood creaked and crunched as pieces broke out from under them. The stone wolf bit his right arm. He slammed his shield against its nose and set it back.
The beast moved, and he leaped backwards up the steps. The floor gave slightly under him. The wolf landed with its full weight and broke through. Wood splintered around it. The wolf dropped to the first floor. A whine escaped the monster as it crashed down. Matthew let the stairs fall under him, smashing against the bottom, and reached the second floor.
His only chance at escape lay here. Matthew ran to the window at the end of the hall. Before he could reach it, the figure of the Cutter kicked it open and bounded into the abandoned place. The pair became trapped together in the thin hallway outside burnt rooms with a sea of wolves waiting below.
“You puzzle me, Castor. Nothing you attempt to do is rational.”
The arching axe screamed for Matthew’s head. His shield angled the strike away from him. Matthew swiped his sword at the attacker. The Cutter dodged and retreated a step. Their blades clashed again and again.
Matthew couldn’t rely on Castor. There was no telling what lay ahead and Castor was too valuable to waste on a guess. Ordopha and Jason also still needed him.
They exchanged blows, and the floor creaked and cracked under their boots. The Cutter quickly anticipated Matthew’s attacks and effortlessly evaded them. Wolves howled from the floor below. Time ticked against them.
“The Queen will be sad to know that I had to kill you, Castor.” His tone kept its dead level. “But she knows I get carried away ending your kind.”
“You can’t kill me.”
“Surely you are joking. I can, and will.”
That overconfidence was Matthew’s only chance to end this quick. He charged forward with the bracelet before him. The board under him gave way. Scraps of wood tumbled down to the floor below. Wolves dove on the tiny pieces. Heat glowed through Castor as the Cutter watched the bracelet and brought his axe back. Matthew turned to mist in his leap.
He streamed toward the Cutter. Matthew would have misted through and stabbed his opponent in the back, but the Cutter would expect that. Matthew counted on it. The enemy watched the mist as it fell upon him.
“I am no amateur!” the Cutter shouted. He brought his axe down behind him, slashing nothing. “What?”
Matthew had stopped short at the Cutter’s now exposed back. He became human once more and plunged his blade in the enemy’s back. The Cutter’s confused grimace traveled from where he thought Matthew was going to go to where he actually reappeared. Blood trickled from his lips at the moment he realized he had been tricked.
“Very good,” the enemy said at length. “You cast aside honor to beat me.”
“I’m not dying here. I’ll throw away my honor for them.”
“Your tenacious nature is in vain. The girl is already dead, as your friend will also be. Defeating me will not change that.”
Matthew removed his sword, and the corpse dropped lifelessly to the crumbling floor. The body fell through the broken boards and landed with a dead weight between the wolves. They ignored the remains and instead snapped and leaped at Matthew. The floor shook under him.
He backed up towards the broken window as the bottom of the floor broke apart. Out on the roof he looked out towards the towering tree looming over the dead place. The large shape of a giant emerged from between the buildings. A twenty-foot monstrosity of a golem bellowed into the night.
Blurriness fought against him. He blinked, hoping this sickness would pass. For a moment Matthew believed the dead man’s words. This night would ever end.
Chapter 17
The One Who Will Save
Jason lifted his shield in time for the blow to miss his neck. The impact shook him, sending Jason careening downward from the rooftop. He broke through boards and stone and the house around him crumbled into naught but ash on the wind. Stars crossed his eyes. He rolled sideways without thinking. A sword stuck into the dust where he had just been. Jason regained his breath, and he glimpsed the giant lizard before him.
This was the one called Rantan that Matthew had met in the underground cavern. Somehow his severed arm had grown back again. None of the other lizards Jason had fought had regained their limbs during a battle, and none of them had grown to the size of this one. If Rantan really had a Prime power, it was not one of simple transformation.
Ashen and broken boards crumbled around the duo. Jason retraced his path. He needed to zigzag between the hovels north to reach the tree.
Jason bolted forward and smashed against wood which shattered in his wake. He streaked through the dirt, kicking it up around him. Heavy steps followed behind, but he kept moving.
At the edge of town, the massive tree stood beside a dried up river and water wheel. The redwood-like monstrosity towered hundreds of feet high. He placed a hand on the trunk, feeling heat against his skin. Rantan skidded to a stop behind him.
No longer a lizard, but the figure of the tall man in a purple robe from earlier, he all but strutted down the road towards Jason.
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br /> “Where is Shaula?” Jason asked.
“Your queen is currently indisposed. I will bring you to her.”
“Because you’re her servants or because you’re all Primes?”
“Primes? What are they? We’re not from your world.”
Jason grimaced before he spoke. “You’re children of someone who is a Prime, and there was only one Earthwalker when they appeared. You are children of Queen Shaula.”
“We are servants. The Great Sorcerer King deigns us suitable to serve. We are lucky that the one who gave birth to us let us keep our lives, and the rewards we get are more than worth it.”
“That’s a horrible way to live. Your lives don’t have to be disposable.”
“But they are, Pollux. Mine is. Yours is. Those on Tyndarus, and on Earth. There is only one place left for us, and that is at the feet of the Great Sorcerer King. Our only choice is whether we are alive or dead when we bend. It’s inevitable. Let’s just enjoy ourselves in the meantime.”
“Fat chance of that.” Jason ran his fingers across the tree bark. The Kharis Seed called him forward through the rising headache breaking into his thoughts. He was so close. “You give up too easily.”
“Give up what? I live for my King and Queen, and I will do so to my dying breath. What do you hope to accomplish fighting a god?”
“I’ve never had any aspirations except wanting to help others take down villains like you. But that was before. Now I’m going to be the one to stop you.” A light burst forth from Jason’s chest as he spoke, illuminating the darkness and driving Rantan back.
Jason blinked to find a small seed bathed in golden light floating before his chest. He snatched it, and the warmth heated his hand. The Kharis Seed wanted the tree. That had to be why he was called there. Jason placed the seed in the dirt beside the outstretched roots of the tall monstrous trunk. The tiny object dug down through the dirt like a mole. Light shone through the wood as it flowed up the trunk like a reverse waterfall. It disappeared up the base and into the branches, letting the light bathe out into the night. The Kharis Seed left him behind.
