A litter of thatch and timber was spread all about. Skeletal frames of bowers hung at untidy angles, supporting only strands of leaf thatch. Occupying the space where the bowers used to be was the body of a giant serpent, its length easily extended over the full semi-circle of the platform. Its leathery hide was a smoky blue underneath, merging into the green scales of its back where the debris of many bowers rested. The huge body rippled with contractions and disappeared behind the far corner of the platform where a few bowers remained intact, their occupants waiting helplessly for the monster to crash through and engulf them. Suddenly, another bower collapsed and the howls of bat-beings rose up before been cut short. Then without warning, the massive head of the serpent appeared from out of the rubble, its glassy eyes searching the tree for its next victims.
Alarmed, Mirrortac stumbled back and the sword flicked out of his hand and onto the platform decking. The serpent’s head hovered, its long moist tongue flicking in and out of its mouth, tasting the air. Dark eyes caught the movement and fixed upon the erfin. Its jaws yawned open and a terrible rattle rolled up from deep within its throat. Mirrortac tried to catch his breath as his heart threatened to leap out of him. The serpent snarled at him; the fresh blood of its victims seeping out of its mouth and dripping down onto the platform. Mirrortac peered back into the ribbed dark tunnel of its throat and gagged as the rush of its warm putrid breath wafted into the opening of the bower.
Ni-Do’s words flashed into his mind and without thinking about what he was saying, he repeated them. ‘Be Yarg De Hargur!’ he shouted.
The serpent shrunk back, snarling. Mirrortac jumped into the open and repeated the words. ‘Be Yarg De Hargur!’
With a hiss of repugnance, the serpent recoiled on itself, crashing against trees in its haste to escape. Its huge body swung out across the platform, scattering debris. Timber creaked and buckled back into place as the monster slithered up into the trees with its tail disappearing behind it.
Mirrortac peered after it, wondering at the power of Ni-Do’s command. The only sound he could hear was the dripping of water as droplets sprinkled off the leaves of the trees. A feeble daylight strayed through cloud, spreading a vague greyness over all. Sad eyes blinked out of the darkness of the remaining bowers.
With pale tear-stained features, the bat-beings emerged and Mirrortac watched with pity as they trudged towards him, their eyes fixed upon him, gazing at him with awe and unspoken gratitude. He wished there were some way to communicate to them; to let them know that he shared their sorrow. As they moved nearer to him, they prostrate themselves on the platform decking and crawled up to him. The nearest paused over the erfin’s foot and began licking it, lapping with its rough white tongue in steady strokes over the furry parts of his foot and starting to work its way up his leg. Another began on his other foot and worked its way up then another and another until the whole group was licking him from foot to waist.
Realising it to be a form of gratitude, he allowed them to perform their licking ritual. They worked steadily upwards, licking up his chest and arms and finally his head. The lapping of their numerous tongues tingled all over his body and the sensation remained even when they had finished.
One of the beings left and entered one of the bowers while the others formed a circle around the erfin. They made him sit down as they started to make a rough harmony of grunts, blending the sound of their voices in a dirge to lost companions. Mirrortac listened closely, trying to fathom the shades of their chanting. As their voices rose together, he felt reassured by the sound, appreciating the expression of loss in hearts and souls. The one who had gone into the bower re-emerged, holding an axe of peculiar crafting, its handle cut and chiseled into an intricate pattern and its stone blades were of magnificent white quartz. The carved form of a serpent was carved into the handle, weaving around it from its base with the head forming the support for the blade and a tongue of twine running out of its mouth and binding the stone tight in a cross pattern. The being handled the axe with reverent care and approached the circle, laying the axe down at the erfin’s feet. It spat on the axe three times - once on the axe head, once on the shank and once on the handle - and the others followed its lead, each pausing over the axe to spit upon the three parts. When the last had done so, the one who had brought the axe picked it up and presented it to the erfin.
He handled the axe for a few moments, unsure of his part in the ritual. He thought of what they had done and reasoned that he should simply emulate their actions. He spat on the three parts of the axe and was rewarded with a chorus of approving grunts. Following his logic through, he reasoned that since this axe was clearly associated with the monster serpent, he should demonstrate some show of defiance against it. He raised the axe above his head and shouted in erfian - ‘Death to the serpent! Death to the Serpent of the Sky!’ and the assembled beings all raised their clenched fists and flapped their wings, grunting and gnashing their teeth with expressions of anger as they stared up at the point in the canopy where the serpent had last been. Mirrortac regarded them as realisation dawned upon him. Rolling his eyes he muttered to himself. ‘Oh, by Eol! What horrid task have I cast upon this fur? Now I must lead them to the serpent and kill it!’
Under the ancient traditions of Eol, a task once accepted must be carried out to its completion. Mirrortac knew this and shivered as he recalled the cold stare of the serpent and what it had done to this tree-top community only a short while ago. He would need to be strong and alert but with the help of the bat-beings, they would surely be able to conquer the monster, he thought.
Hungry again, Mirrortac mimed an eating gesture to one of the beings. It left him and returned with a bowl full of berries and other fruits. He ate a few berries but he was sick of the taste. He wanted meat. He pushed the bowl aside. ‘Not fruit!’ he barked. But the being looked at him, confused.
Mirrortac crouched down. ‘Look! I will show you what I want,’ he said.
Twitching his nose and scrambling around on all fours, he imitated the rodent he had eaten on the forest floor. The being broke into a grunting chuckle and nodded, smiling. It motioned to one of its companions, who promptly entered a bower and re-emerged soon afterwards, armed with quiver and bow. The archer glided off the edge of the platform and into the forest.
While he waited, another of the beings gave him a mug full of the sweet brewed drink that he accepted with eager gulps. He had drunk two mugfulls by the time the archer returned and presented him with two fat rodents. The hunter grinned with delight as Mirrortac patted him kindly. ‘You have done well!’ he said, his face beaming as he tore off pieces of the rodents and stuffed them into his mouth. The being patted him back and grunted something that probably meant ‘Enjoy your meal’ before leaving him to attend to the construction of new bowers.
After he had eaten, Mirrortac retired to sleep off his meal. Darkness fell upon the forest and a night passed without threat. When he awoke, he found a bowl containing three more of the rodents at his bedside. He ate one of them and left the others for later. In their gratitude to him, the bat-beings were obviously doing everything they could for him, and this made the task ahead all that more daunting. Mirrortac knew he could not let them down as they were depending on him.
He gathered his thoughts. The great serpent was larger than any creature in erfin knowledge. Nite-wolves and gakars were test enough for the blade but even the weight of the serpent axe was unequal to dealing with a monster whose head alone was more than the measure of any of these. They would have to attack it in a volley of simultaneous blows aimed at the back of its head, knocking it senseless before it could eat too many of them. No. Mirrortac thought. They must surprise it, while it was still sleeping off a belly full of the beings it had eaten yesterday. They would have to go after it very soon.
Mirrortac thought about their method of travelling from tree to tree, and vowed that he would have to find a better way to be carried than hanging on from the underbelly of these beings while it leap
t out into space. He searched his mind for a solution and was pleased with himself when he came up with the answer after only a little thought. He would ride upon the back of one of these beings, carrying Moongleam at his waist and the axe of the serpent on a sling secured about his shoulder. They would swoop on the monster and overwhelm it while it slept.
After preparing a suitable sling from vine that he had gathered nearby, Mirrortac called the bat-beings together. He demonstrated how he wished to be carried and the beings nodded and grunted with understanding. The constant presence of the storm clouds made it difficult to determine how far into the day it was, but Mirrortac guessed that it was not yet half gone. He slung the sling with the serpent axe in it, over his shoulder and looked out at the cover of the forest where the serpent had gone. He unsheathed his sword and stabbed it out towards the space in the foliage. Suddenly reminded of the death and destruction wrought by the serpent, his body tensed and a rage surged up within him. ‘Let the serpent be executed! May the leaves of the forest be spattered with its blood!’ he cried.
The anger of the bat-beings answered his own in a hail of grunts. Mirrortac sheathed Moongleam and was taken upon the back of one of the stronger beings who went off immediately towards the end of the platform, followed by the others. He looked around him and noticed that they were all unarmed. He indicated the axe and motioned at them with stern features, frowning. ‘Where be your weapons?’ he shouted. But he was ignored and soon they were walking out on one of the boughs, preparing for their first flight from tree to tree. ‘Weapons!’ You must have weapons!’ he continued shouting but they did not understand him.
Mirrortac quelled his unease as the being carrying him grabbed hold of a vine and swung up into a neighbouring tree. He peered down into the closely-knit branches as they descended below him, and his stomach lurched. The murmur of an unseen stream sifted up among the humid warm atmosphere; almost drowned out by the hollow drone of numerous insects that swarmed in the thick scrub beneath. The company made its way up towards the canopy, crawling up trunks thicker than two arms could reach around, and swinging on vines to higher branches. Up beyond the rim of the canopy, long grey wisps of cloud swirled down in an effort to meet them; and all the time, they were gaining height.
Finally, they stood near the top of the highest trees in that part of the forest. Mirrortac gazed out upon a deep green patchwork stretching out towards the limit of his sight. His guide sniffed at the air and arched its head up at the sky, searching the clouds and the eddying swirls of moving warm air. Mirrortac wondered where they could possibly go from here as the tree was well above its neighbours and beyond any discernible bough within a short glide. The being glanced over its shoulder at him and grinned, somewhat mischievously. Then, without warning, leapt out and thrust them into the emptiness. Mirrortac hung on tight and close to the being’s back as they plunged downwards, hurtling towards the treetops. He shut his eyes tight as he waited for the expected impact but suddenly felt them lifting out of the dive and shooting up into the sky.
He opened his eyes. He couldn’t believe it! - the trees were falling away beneath them and they were gliding upwards like birds. Beneath them, he could see the rest of the company circling on the same updraft while the forest withdrew from them, expanding outwards in a mottled quilt of emerald shades. Gathering the courage to scan outwards, Mirrortac was astounded to see a giant among giant trees; far to the north, its upper boughs swallowed up by cloud while its girth was roughly the width of half the village of Eol. He marveled at the size of it, forgetting about the queasiness in his stomach and the terrible task ahead. He wished he could ask these people about the great tree and whether it held any significance to them and whether he would be allowed to approach it and touch its huge trunk. But today, their flight took them elsewhere.
Bracing himself, Mirrortac held on tight as they glided into another stream of air and soared down nearer the forest. A flock of white birds flew a little below them to the west; forming a neat flight pattern as they lazily flapped their wings. Beyond them, in patches, blue-grey smudges of rain joined storm and forest. The air was cool and fresh, free of the smell of vegetation that so pervaded the world below.
Mirrortac started to relax, lulled by the majestic vista around him and the strange exhilaration of flight. He thought of the birds and how free they were, commanding the heavens and unbound to the earth like most creatures. He sucked in a breath, enjoying the vastness of the great forest, which extended for mooniths in every direction. Pushing his eyesight to the limits, he scanned the horizons. His gaze came to rest upon the northern horizon where he could only just discern a thin pale line of yellow skirting the edge of the trees. ‘What is it?’ he asked himself. Some kind of plain? Or could that be the real end of the earth?
All thoughts were cancelled as the sky erupted with loud grunts of excitement. Mirrortac quickly switched his attention to the bat-beings. One of them was grunting furiously and pointing to a spot in the forest directly below them. The erfin searched the mottled shadows between the canopy but could see nothing. The being kept up its chatter and pointing. Mirrortac looked again. Nothing. A silence followed, and in that silence, the erfin heard the unmistakable rattling sound of the serpent as it echoed softly up from between the cover of the foliage. He homed in on the sound, peering down through the confused pattern of greens. Then, he saw it.
The long form of the serpent blended in so well with the surrounding vegetation that it was almost impossible to pick it out. But there it was, laying motionless and twisting in and out of the foliage over many erfin-lengths. Mirrortac’s carrier shifted out of the air stream and circled down, diving rapidly towards the trees. In moments, the forest once more engulfed them and they were standing on a high bough, a safe distance from the serpent. The monster was supported across the forks of three trees, as well as many branches. The other beings landed in succession, then swiftly moved out into a semi-circle among the branches above the monster. Each took up a clear vantage point, moving as silently as they could.
Mirrortac winced at the merest rustle of a leaf, half expecting the monster to be roused at any moment. The bat-beings settled into their positions and watched the erfin with expectation. Wheeling his paw in the air, he gave the signal to move forward. His carrier launched them into the air and glided to a branch directly above the serpent’s head. Mirrortac flicked his head from side to side, waiting for the others to follow but nobody moved. His guide allowed him to slide off his back then withdrew, quickly joining the others in the branches above.
Realisation turned instantly to shock. Mirrortac swung his eyes over the waiting gallery of watchers and swallowed hard. The bat people had been unarmed because they had no intention of taking part in the killing of the serpent. Just a few erfin-lengths away, the great monster slept, its eyes glazed over with a semi-transparent skin. Even in sleep, it seemed to watch every move that was made around it.
Mirrortac studied his surroundings and sighed. He was committed to the task: now an impossible task, he thought. There was no way he could simply throw the axe across the space and hope to kill, let alone maim the serpent from where he stood. The only avenue of action open to him was to climb down the adjacent tree trunk and step onto its back. Its hide should be thick enough to be insensitive to his weight as he made his way to its head. But if it should suddenly awaken! No, he would rather not think about that.
With trembling feet, the erfin slowly made his way to the trunk and climbed down towards the glossy smooth body of the huge serpent. A step off standing on its back, he hesitated, fighting off frightful thoughts of been eaten alive. Mirrortac steeled himself and lowered his feet onto the serpent, cringing as he felt the cold tough flesh beneath the pads of his feet. The serpent remained still. Gingerly he moved up its back, swaying as the mass of flesh wobbled under him. Within ten paces of the head, he paused and checked his weapons, preparing to use them at a moment’s notice should the serpent be aroused prematurely.
Sa
tisfied, Mirrortac continued onwards. Within five paces of the head, the body of the serpent erupted into movement. Mirrortac’s sword was in his hand in a flash but he was almost caught off balance as the huge body coiled to one side. The monster bellowed out a long serpentine sigh as it shifted in its sleep. The movement stopped and the erfin stood, shaking and pale. ‘Shriek of gakar! What am I doing here!’ his thoughts screamed. But his sword seemed to bring him comfort and extra courage.
Mirrortac calmed himself and replaced Moongleam in its sheath. He reached over his shoulder and withdrew the serpent axe. ‘How I wish this task was nought mine to undertake,’ he thought. He took firm grip of the axe and stepped hesitantly ahead. Standing so lightly that he was almost on his toes, he paced out the last few erfin-lengths until he stood over the huge head, trembling as he regarded the nearness of its cold reptilian eyes. He raised the axe slowly over his head and contemplated the blow he was about to deliver.
With a swift thrust, he propelled the axe down with all the force that his arms could manage. The quartz blade split the skin between the serpent’s eyes, separating flesh as the axe drove deep, striking the skull bone with a sharp jolt. The serpent’s eyes flashed open and a deep nasal rattle emanated out of its nostrils. Mirrortac raised the axe again but was flung backwards by the serpent’s movement. He fell on its back and slid down as it raised its head and turned to see what had delivered the blow. Mirrortac kept a firm grip of the axe as the serpent swiveled around and peered down at him. A tiny trickle of blood seeped out of the gash in its head. Mirrortac held his breath as he looked back into the black fathomless depths of its eyes and found himself being drawn into them, gazing transfixed into some eternal darkness.
The Wizard's Sword (Nine Worlds of Mirrortac Book 1) Page 7
