The Way of the Ram

by Kevin Hensley

  Now it was Karkus’s turn to bristle with annoyance. “That’s impossible. Arghast has never turned against us. He gave us the world. We are his favorites.”

  “Well, we must have fallen from favor somehow. Toxid could never have gained so much strength without Arghast’s approval.”

  “Then we will deal with Arghast after. Toxid first.”

  “No, you fool,” Optera snapped. “Somehow our gluttonous younger brother has replaced us as the favorite. See, you did not think this all the way through after all. The satisfaction of killing Toxid would not be worth the devastation that the Father Orchid would rain down on us. We can only defeat Toxid by winning back the favor of Arghast.”

  “And how do you propose we do that?”

  “Well, this new power move by Toxid was, in my opinion, a blunder. He is risking the stability of the world by consuming sheep in such high numbers. This gives us an opportunity to strike back at him while appearing justified in doing so. That is why I came looking for you.”

  Karkus’s teeth clicked as he thought it over. “You say you want to work together to shame Toxid. See him cast out of Arghast’s favor.”

  “Exactly, Karkus.” Optera drew close to him, extending one of her wings to encircle his shoulders. “If we make Arghast see that he was wrong to give ownership of the world over to Toxid, then it will all be ours once again. If we unite our people and take control of Toxid’s access to sheep blood, well… he’d be our slave. Imagine it. You and I, restored to the rightful glory that has been denied us since the Great War.”

  The fanged god gave a growl of satisfaction. “Toxid crawling on his belly, begging my dogs or your birds to kill a sheep every now and then so he doesn’t waste away. He’d look so weak and stupid in front of Arghast then, wouldn’t he?”

  “Now you’ve got it.” The winged goddess snickered. “Arghast may have forbidden us gods from fighting one another directly, but we don’t need to break that commandment just to outwit a moron like Toxid. You know, you’ve given me an idea. The best way to defeat the pigs would be to unite birds and dogs, right? Well, who best to lead them but a creature that is a combination of the best traits of both?”

  Karkus looked up, startled. “What are you proposing?”

  There was a flash, and then Optera held cradled in her wing a little red figure of a bird.

  “Ponder,” Healer hissed, frozen with fear and anger.

  “I’ll make a champion of my own,” Optera said, “to lead the birds. But we will make them incomplete in body and spirit. We will have them seek each other out, seek completion in one another. And then, when the moment is right…”

  Karkus’s chest swelled as understanding dawned on him. “They will combine into one beast. A perfect creation that will do whatever we tell it to. It could even destroy Toxid’s own champion.”

  “No, Karkus. No destruction. It will lead our people to take their rightful place, sharing control of sheep and of the world.” Optera spread her wings with glee. “We will be back in the good graces of Arghast. No one will be able to challenge our authority ever again.”

  Chapter 39

  The surroundings changed. Healer and Dreamer were no longer in a vast expanse of grey fog, but a grimy jail cell. The only light came from a small, barred window above them. Mauler lay in one corner, looking battered, bloodied, unkempt, utterly broken. Ponder, decrepit but dignified, leaned under his arm.

  Healer gave an involuntary cry of shock and started forward. It took him a second to remember that they were still in a memory, bystanders to events that had already occurred.

  “There they are,” Dreamer said with a glare. Healer followed her gaze and saw the shadows moving on the wall. The silhouettes, the winged woman and the muscled brute, were distinctive and recognizable. Optera’s figure slunk across the wall behind Ponder, while Karkus loomed over Mauler.

  “It’s time,” came Karkus’s now familiar voice. “The pig cloners have made a breakthrough. The Chugg Corporation will soon have their ultimate weapon. We must unleash our own.”

  “Agreed,” Optera said. “Our champions have maximized their emotional dependence on each other. Now is the time to invoke their true power.”

  As the shadows of the two gods reached out, Mauler and Ponder said the same phrase at the same time. “We complete each other. We each excel where the other lacks. We cannot be apart. It is as if we are one creature in two separate bodies.” Mauler’s head dropped and Ponder’s eyes went dark.

  A white flash of light and a roaring, rushing noise tore through the little cell, threatening to overwhelm Healer’s senses. Thankfully, it only lasted for a second. When he dared, he opened his eyes again.

  There was no sign of Mauler, Ponder, or the two gods. A gangling figure sat curled up in the spot where Mauler had fallen a few seconds before. When it stood up, Healer took a step back. He’d never seen such a horrific sight.

  The creature seemed to be missing most of its skin. Its long limbs were wrapped in cords of sinew with knotted muscles. Its head was featureless except for a pair of round orange eyes, frozen in a wide, distressed expression.

  Its eyes swiveled around, searching the cell. Healer did not know how it managed to speak with no mouth, but he had seen stranger things.

  “W-where are you?” it whispered.

  “That’s Mauler’s eyes and voice,” Healer said. “Is that thing… him?”

  Dreamer did not answer.

  “Am I alone again?” the shuddering figure asked the empty cell. “P-Ponder?”

  “Mauler, I am here.”

  Healer jumped, looking all around. His eyes settled on something bundled in the corner furthest from the light of the little window.

  The tall creature saw it too. “Ponder, is that you?”

  “Yes. Come over here. Please. Do not leave me by myself.”

  Unnerved, Healer took a small step closer to Dreamer. “What have they done?”

  “Just watch,” said Dreamer. “This part is almost over.”

  The shambling monster that had once been their friend Mauler made its unsteady way over to the corner. Reaching out with fingers tipped with gigantic claws, it picked up the items it found and brought them into the light. Healer gasped. It was a red cloak and a wooden, beaked mask.

  Mauler threw the robe over his shoulders and held the mask in both hands, turned around so that it was looking back at him. He held it up to his face. “It’s better this way.”

  “Yes,” came Ponder’s voice from the mask. “This way we do not have to be apart.”

  With that, Mauler turned the mask around, placed it on his face, and threw up the hood. The cloak melded into his body, becoming the skin that had been missing. The rivets in the mask turned as if screwing themselves into his skull. The union was complete. Healer’s dear friends had transformed into the creature that had visited him at the clinic. When they spoke again, Ponder and Mauler’s voices sounded in unison.

  “Now we are together forever. We were two halves, but now we are whole. We possess the craft and cunning of Optera, with control of light and shadow and sound. We can call on the very strength of Karkus, and no weapon in this world can pierce us. We cut. We slice. We shred. We rend. The pigs will fall before us. We wield the power of the gods themselves. We are the Render.”

  The orange eyes glowed through the mask, and the red cloak began to billow and flicker even though there was no wind in the cell. The creature spread its arms and the sleeves of the cloak extended like wings. With a cry that sounded like a mix of a squawk and a roar, the monster launched itself at the tiny window. The bars crumpled under the impact and the reinforced cinderblock around it was blasted out of place. The Render was free, and it was on the rampage.

  Chapter 40

  Healer’s surroundings jumped around and grew fuzzy, as if he were watching a television channel with poor reception. The scene became a still image of the cloaked creature slicing through a railroad track. Then it was cutting through hordes of clon
ed dogs on a rooftop. Then it was crouched in a dead yellow forest with its knees against its chest and its hands against the sides of its head.

  “What’s happening?” Healer asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Dreamer said, looking all around. “Like I said, I had to piece this together from fragments, all out of order. I think Ponder and Mauler’s minds are falling apart. They don’t remember this part very well.”

  “But this was obviously when they were tearing the pig city a new one. This is why Durdge was sent out to look for us. The pigs were desperate.”

  “Yes. After the initial attack, it looks like they went over the wall and hid in a swamp somewhere for a while. That’s why we had some peace after Durdge. The entire Megatropolis was looking for the Render. Anyway, I’m pretty sure the reason for their disorganized thinking is that the gods were in their heads at this point and giving conflicting instructions. During the attack on the city, they were almost fully under Optera and Karkus’s control. After that, they wrestled back some degree of freedom and went off on their own.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Just watch what happens next.”

  To either side of the crouched monster, Karkus and Optera appeared. They leaned down as if to whisper in its ears.

  “Why do you hide here?” Optera hissed. “You know what you must do.”

  “That’s right,” Karkus said. “Your target is nearby. The Chugg Corporation.”

  “No,” Optera snapped. “You must flee this place. You must rally the people.”

  “That will never work while the pigs still live!” Karkus roared.

  “You’re still missing the point! It’s not about making war on Toxid!” Optera shrieked back at him.

  Render trembled, looking down at its feet. “Karkus demands one thing,” it mumbled, “and Optera asks another. They speak over each other, louder and louder, screaming at us to do what they say. We cannot do all at once. We need to consult our protectors.”

  “You don’t need anyone but us,” said Optera.

  Render ignored her. “The gods cannot decide what is important. We will look to another to tell us what must be done. Our Healer and our Dreamer guided us to find our purpose. They will know what to do.”

  The shaking creature went quiet and put its head down as the two gods resumed trying to shout each other down. Healer watched the commotion for a minute, then shook his head and turned away from them.

  “This is insane,” he said. “All of this talk about saving sheep and making the world better was meaningless. We were just pawns in a little family feud between gods. Our friends were built up to be great leaders to usher in this new peace, but they were only meant to be a puppet for these two.”

  Dreamer sat on the pavement, staring at Render. “Our friends are still in there, and I think they understand that they’ve been deceived. Look how the gods can’t control them the way they want to. They’re still thinking of us. Maybe there’s hope.”

  From somewhere inside its sleeve, Render produced a crumpled ball of paper, which it unfurled with delicate, trembling claws. Healer could not see what was written on the page, but he recognized his own script.

  “That’s the last letter I wrote them,” he said.

  “The Healer and the Dreamer have already told us what must happen for the world to be better,” Render mumbled. “We can make this place a new land of peace and prosperity. But for the garden to grow, the weeds must be first pulled. The horrors that have been inflicted must be met with justice. The letter from the Healer revealed that our terms have been ignored. We will correct this error.”

  Karkus and Optera dropped their argument and turned their attention back to Render. But before they could speak, the swamp vanished and a new scene appeared in its place.

  Chapter 41

  On this cloudy, moonless night, the quarry dogs had no chance of seeing Render crawling in silence along the wall of Scurvert’s home. The cloaked horror headed for the cellar door to the side of the house.

  Render waited for the dogs to pass by before extending a single claw and neatly slicing the padlocked latch. It pulled the cellar door partway open and vanished down the darkened staircase, its trailing robes gliding in after it.

  The memory froze. Healer felt Dreamer’s slender foreleg nudge against his, and he leaned into her. “Do we need to skip over this part?” he asked.

  “No.” She shook her head. “It’s fine. I got through it once already. It’s hard to go back down there, that’s all. But you need to see it. I just… felt like reminding myself that you’re here.”

  He smiled. “Of course I am.”

  Dreamer let the memory continue. Their field of view followed Render through the cellar door, exposing a bare concrete stairwell. A stale draft rose up to greet them. Healer had to take a moment to remind himself, yet again, that nothing in this memory could do them harm. Render led them down the stairs and into Scurvert’s home.

  Healer had seen this chamber before in the terrified visions that Dreamer had accidentally shared with him. That prior experience did not lessen the wrenching in his gut that he felt at the sight of it now.

  Six or seven lambs lay curled up in wire cages, some individually, some grouped. One wall bore an assortment of cutting and crushing tools hanging from nails or strewn on a long wooden bench.

  In a corner, the concrete floor was stained with old blood. Manacles hung bolted to the wall. A chain dangling from the ceiling ended with a rusty meat hook. Across the room, another staircase, this one wooden, led up into the house.

  “Let’s stay right here,” Dreamer said, “where we can see the whole room.”

  Render moved in utter silence, absurdly fast, sliding along the wall like a puddle of physics-defying red fluid. It extended a claw and burst the lightbulb over the children’s cages, dropping the whole room into darkness. Awakened by the noise, the little lambs began to bleat with fear and confusion.

  It did not take long for the master of the house to notice the commotion. The two sheep could hear Scurvert’s lumbering feet on the floor above them. A door opened at the top of the wooden stairs, throwing a shaft of light across the workbench below. Then Scurvert’s distinctive silhouette blocked most of the light coming from the doorway.

  “Who’s down there?” he bellowed. “Guards!”

  Scurvert vanished, leaving the door open. A minute later, three of the starved quarry dogs came into view. They sniffed the walls and the wooden steps at their feet. The cellar doors behind Healer gave a loud rattling noise, making him spin around.

  “Someone’s cut off the lock!” the pig said from outside. “Did you see anyone come in or out this way?”

  “No, sir.”

  “They might still be inside. You all go in first.”

  The cellar doors flipped open and four more guard dogs came down the concrete stairs, passing through Healer and Dreamer and joining up with the other three guards already in the room. Scurvert followed with a powerful lantern that more than made up for the broken lightbulbs.

  Render was nowhere to be seen.

  “There’s no one in here, sir,” said one of the dogs, a skeletal wolfhound.

  “Spread out,” Scurvert snarled. “Search every house. Drag every worthless sheep into the street and beat a confession out of whoever you have to. Someone got it into their head that they can mess with me. Probably a parent of one of these brats. Start with them.”

  “No dog will lay claw or fang on any sheep in this town again,” bellowed a deep voice that filled the entire basement.

  In this confined space, the terrified bleating of the lambs and enraged barking of the dogs rose into a cacophony that forced Healer to sit down and cover his ears with his hooves.

  Render emerged from the shadow under the wooden stairs, head bowed and hood drawn up to obscure its face. The dogs jumped back. Scurvert raised his light to cast the focus of the beam right at it.

  “Just who do you think you are?” The pig snickered. �
��Actually, I don’t care. Guys, rip off that stupid costume and throw him on the table there.”

  The dogs started forward. Render made no move except to raise its hands and grasp the sides of its hood.

  “Who am I?” Render muttered. “I…” It paused to let the dogs get close enough to bite, then it threw back the hood.

  Healer drew back in shock just as much as the dogs did. The face behind the hood was not the wooden bird mask he had expected, but a huge mouth full of bloodstained fangs.

  “I am Karkus!” Render roared at the guard dogs. “And you will obey me! You will never harm these sheep again! Leave this place! I will reckon with this pig alone!”

  At the sight of the very visage of their creator god, the dogs were instantly cowed. Ears pinned back and tails tucked between their hind legs, they sped one and all up the concrete stairs, out the cellar door, and into the night.

  When Healer looked back, Render’s usual masked face was restored. Scurvert set the lantern on the floor, his hand moving toward the knife in his pocket. A twitch of something like amazement crossed his fat face.

  “Red robe… you’re the one they’re all looking for,” Scurvert said. “That’s an impressive little feat you pulled. The Megatropolis sent me a warning about you. They said you could play tricks with light and sound, fool around with people’s perception. They said you came out of the cell where those rebels, Ponder and Mauler, were kept. So you’re here because you think you can take me?”

  Render did not answer right away, but glanced at the lambs in their cages. They were now silent, caught somewhere between hope and dread. “Does the Megatropolis know that you have not honored the terms that were negotiated?”

  Scurvert laughed. “So it is you. The wooden bird and the stupid beast, thrown in a blender by the gods.”

  Render withdrew with surprise and confusion, which only amused the pig more.

  “Oh, yes. We know things. I have connections, you see. That’s why you can’t do anything to me. I know the pigs at the top of the food chain, and they’re in direct contact with our own god, Toxid. You can’t hurt me. No one can.”