The Way of the Clan 4 (World of Valdira)

by Dem Mikhaylov

  Taking the hefty cub in my arm, I again looked at the river in confusion and carefully went knee deep in the water and sank down, feeling like a complete idiot. And then I felt something below me— not just water, but something springy and clearly alive. What have I sat on?!

  - We’ll go fast! – Mohrusha assured me— To the house!

  - A!— I cried when I saw, in the middle of the river, a big floppy eared head and heard a piercing scream— The old lady! Mohrusha! There’s your lady! She swam out!

  - I don’t see anything! – the old bog creature cut off, scrupulously avoiding looking in that direction— Everything is hazy! Let’s go! N-now!

  The water bubbled and underneath us flashed the ghostly outline of something elongated and flat.

  For some reason I imagined that I was sitting on the back of a huge transparent stingray. In a moment we rushed quickly along the river upstream, and headed straight to the waterfall! Waves covered me and hit my chest, over my face dripped whole streams, and after us was left a white trail as though from a speedboat.

  - What about your lady?! – I yelled into the ear of the old creature.

  - No worries. She’ll return— shrugged Mohrusha— She always returns!

  I didn’t have time to ask other questions— our ghostly horse got to the waterfall and we plunged into the water, mixed with abundant foam. The sound of water was deafening. It was as though we were moving underwater— only roaring water was around us. Tyrant growled angrily, and I patted him on the back.

  The center of gravity shifted dramatically, I rocked back and something like tentacles clasped around my knees. Blinking, I looked around and realized in horror that we were rushing up the falls! Straight up! Against the current and against the force of gravity!

  - Gramps! Won’t we get hurt?

  - We won’t – dismissed he— Oh, a flashing fish! That’s good luck!

  - A log! A log! – I shouted hysterically, staring at a thick log which was flying through the waterfall and heading straight at us!

  - And this a sign of trouble! Don’t worry! We’ll break through it!

  - No we won’t gramps! Gramps, tuu-u-urn!

  - Let’s turn— the creature agreed, and made an odd smacking sound.

  We jerked to the side and, to my delight, the log flew dangerously close but hurt no one.

  - And there’s the old lady! – the grandpa grunted, twisting his head.

  Following his example, I looked down in time to see a tiny figure in the flow of the waterfall, waving her arms in a frantic attempt to climb up using only manual force! And at this moment, the log that had passed us collapsed right on top of her!

  - My poor old lady! – Mohrusha sighed.

  - Poor lady— I bleated belatedly.

  - And that means good look! Great success!

  - Grandpa!

  - She’ll swim out— Mohrusha calmed me— She always does!

  Our invisible water horse pulled and crossed the edge of the rumbling waterfall. And rushed on the wild waters at double speed, still moving against the current. Given that the horse was not visible, the impression was that there was a moving belt under the water and two figures were simply rushing through the river, moving in an utterly unexplained way. Plus a wet and disheveled cub. Two without a boat and one dog… well, or rather, wolf.

  - SO listen, hero! – enthusiastically began the ancient bog creature— Disaster has struck!

  - Gramps! – I yelled, spitting, wiping my wet face with both hands— Let’s discuss on the spot! Not on the way!

  - That’s what I told you!

  - Beaver! A beaver in our way! He… where’s the beaver?! Where’d he go?!

  - The hero should eat! You want the beaver?

  - Gramps, how much longer is our journey?

  - Eh, not much longer! Three rivers, a lake, and a couple of ditches! And then we’re home!

  - And the old lady?

  - She’ll swim out… always does…

  I decided no longer to talk about the old woman, lest my heart break in pity. Besides, if this woman is able to paddle against the current of a turbulent river, and even climb the waterfall! … she will definitely swim out. And live longer than all of us.

  I didn’t have a chance to plunge into contemplation of Valdira’s beauty; I was being hit in the face with splashes of river water, and could see only flashes of bony dorsal crests appearing, every now and again, out of the water.

  What upset me more was the waste of a perfectly good scroll, by means of which I found myself in the picturesque setting of the rumbling waterfall. I had sat there for all of five minutes, Tyrant had capitalized on the first rabbit, and then— pack your things, we’re moving. I had used the scroll in vain. Of course he couldn’t have just decided to find me in Algora!

  Think of the beautiful, and it will be… far away, on the left, rose the majestic city wall of Algora. The beauty was tremendous— over the wall rose graceful towers with red roofs made in a variety of styles. Such things don’t exist in the real world… perhaps, never existed.

  We turned sharply to the shore, swept past players with their jaws dropped in amazement, and, not reducing speed, dove into a rather narrow estuary, still going against the current. Damn… embarrassing in front of the fisherman— we also showered them with water, and the old bog creature gave them a gesture with his hand in response to their indignant cries. Granddaddy was familiar with the jargon of gestured, it seems.

  - Watch your head! – the old bog creature shouted cheerfully, snatching a small fish out of the water and ending it into his toothless mouth— Fish… that’s good!

  The invisible water horse pressed on and we broke into the thick reeds, into which the water flowed. Continuous cracking, crunching reeds beat all around me! Another wave threw a shocked beaver onto my chest, which I immediately pushed back into the water. And I didn’t even have time to curse, everything happened so quickly. Tyrant had time— the wolf, with a short roar, had time to stretch out his neck and bite the tail of the offender. But he couldn’t hold him. He was pulled after the beaver but I grabbed onto his fur and held, not wanting to lose a pet. We aren’t touchy. Damn this otter! But let him swim with his small, but rather sharp, fangs and cowardly tail.

  Another short turn and we were in a much more narrow and shallow stream. The water got muddy and the reeds became thicker and higher. Now I saw only innumerable thickets surrounding us on all sides, hanging above our heads. A reed jungle! Overall, with every minute more of the surrounding beauty vanished.

  - The lake! – happily said Mohrusha.

  The “lake” was a big puddle, ten paces across. A space which was for some reason devoid of seems, a speck of pure clear water and dense vegetation. And by the water was a player, standing on his knees and gently breaking a plant dotted with blue flowers and bells.

  The player appeared in my field of vision and disappeared. And we broke into the next set of reed thickets. I didn’t have a chance to really see anything. But there was really nothing to see anyway— another herbalist looking for rare plants. There are many of those. Always climbing into the most impassable jungle, hoping to find a special specimen. Sometimes they strike gold. Other times they run into problems. Sometimes both together.

  - And here is the ditch! – said the old man.

  And the ditch was really exactly that— an unkempt furrow in the ground with smelly, stagnant waters. There was almost no flow. But on the surface of the water was an abundance of dirty foam and debris, flying in all directions, including onto me. Tyrant became a dirty lump with wildly glittering eyes. But the cub still looked joyous— after sitting for a long time, of course even a strange trip like this would be a welcome change from the personal room.

  To the loud cracking of reeds we exited into open space, and I gasped in surprise— in front of us, at a distance of a few tens of steps, rose the huge city wall of Algora. Its outer side. And the wall was rapidly approaching. I do not understand… I’m back in Algora?!
And where is the gate?!

  In my field of vision there wasn’t the slightest hint of an entrance. Not a conventional gate nor a small door, nor even a break in the monolithic wall. The overall impression that we were now, at full speed, going to crash into the wall and be smashed flat. This did not seem to concern the bog creature, who was muttering something to himself happily under his breath. He didn’t seem to show any signs of slowing down our ride. I inadvertently picked up my legs, ready to jump out of the “boat.”

  - Where are you going? – asked the grandfather, removing a from with eyes bulging from shock from his forehead.

  -Oh you know… -- I replied evasively, looking at the wall of the city.

  - You better drop your head, hero— advised the bog creature— We don’t want only half of you to visit us. And for the other half to remain outside.

  - Yeah— I said, a little bewildered from this council, and ducked my head sharply.

  Just in time. The wall approached and we noisily flew into a group of dense grass unknown to me… and went through the wall in the tradition of the best magicians in the world! We pulled hard into impenetrable darkness, which smelled of moist heat and rottenness. Where are we?!

  We are in Algora and not in Algora at once!

  Wait! This is a sewer! We are UNDER Algora! The giant ancient catacombs, upon which stands a cheerful city.

  - Here we are, home again— sighed the old man, flapping his membraned paw across the water horse— Emerge, my dear.

  The “dear” immediately emerged— under where I was sitting suffused a bluish light with bright white sparks. Mesmerized, I examined the unknown animal, and finally realized that it was some sort of huge eel. Maybe a modification of the Bermuda. Illuminated in a blue was the outline of a flat body, and a menacing predatory look. Turning my head back, I saw the shining long tail, at the end of which was a kind of brightly orange colored barb. Overall, the picture was enchanting… especially beautiful with the complete darkness which surrounded it. Kind of like the eels found in tropical waters. I wouldn’t have expected to find such creatures in the drainage sewers of Algora.

  - Do you live here? – I asked a leading question— In the canal… u-u-um… under Algora.

  - We live here— nodded the bog creature Mohrusha— This is the only place for the likes of us. It’s bad to live alone. In a stranger’s waters, we live poorly. But here it’s good! Fifty years we have resided here and each day we celebrate. After all, what’s most important in life?

  - What?

  - When there are fish! – said the bog creature didactically, pointing a bony finger— And here there’s fish!

  - I see – I nodded resignedly. It seems that all bog creatures show remarkable solidarity to fish.

  - There are a lot of fish— the old creature continued to rant, while the radiant eel carried us further down a dark tunnel. So far, at least we were moving horizontally— at least, that’s what I thought. There was a low ceiling from which dripped some whitish and yellow threads of strange plants, and walls covered in lumpy brown mold. That’s all I was able to discern in the luminescence emitted by the eel.

  The giant eel brought us to the wall, and the elder muttered:

  - Do not breathe!

  Before I could clarify the cause of such a command, the eel dove right under the water!

  The first originated thought: “Fuck!”

  The second: “Tyrant!”

  Third: “Gramps, I’ll rip your ears off!”

  The fourth idea didn’t have time to come into my head because we emerged as quickly— already on the other side of the wall. The journey took no more than a couple of seconds. Underwater passage? Fun…

  Tyrant sneezed and coughed and my eyes bore into the back of the old man… but then the bog creature scratched his body in the vicinity of the scarlet loincloth, spread his hands, and solemnly said:

  - We are home, hero! Welcome!

  It was then that I understood that I had regained full vision.

  While the eel completed his journey, I looked around wide-eyed, trying to figure out where I had ended up.

  At the moment I saw a gigantic room in an allegedly square shape, in the middle of which a solid earth mound roe from the water. In short— an island. A real underground island, studded with the yellow lights of torches and fires. On the wet walls glowed vegetation, and also on the high ceiling.

  No sooner had we swum to the pier than from the water, with a splash, emerged a hefty evil face on big muscular shoulders. According to his characteristic ears I realized that a representative of the bog creature tribe was sitting in front of me. The impression was that this man, as a child, had only been fed milk mixed with steroids.

  The emerged “jock” spat, opened his mouth wide, and released a stream of absolutely incomprehensible speech, referring to the old bog-creature.

  - Gurly burly, homo— with a fat finger he pointed straight at me— Gurly burly navren mokan!

  - Hey! – I growled— For homo you’ll pay, underwater bastard!

  The old man didn’t even waste his words. Just casually moved his foot and slammed his skinny heel right into its nose. The big man, hurt, tried to grab the leg that had offended him, but the eel didn’t like this offense on it master. Above us whistled a blazing bright blue and orange whip and whipped the water next to the old man.

  The bully, from such a “greeting”, jumped out of the water almost completely, hysterically screaming and running as far away from us as possible. I watched him in amazement, glancing at the distance smoke. I don’t know what kind of magic is in the tail of the eel, but clearly it is something got. Scathing, I might say! The brain might even fry up!

  The old bog creature unhappily grumbled something like:

  - Furly muhrly, govosyuk Matyuk!

  I translated this into a politically correct phrase like “oh, this modern youth” but the elder clearly intended some stronger buzzwords.

  Obeying the will of the owner, the horse gently touched to the pier and stopped. The journey was over. But I was in no hurry to get up. Who knows about the customs of bog creatures. Maybe I’d get out on land and it will turn out that I had wildly disrespected the elder. There were precedents in Valdira. I had ridden on these steep turns. I didn’t want to any longer.

  - What are you doing sitting around, hero? – the elder grunted in surprise, creeping onto the dock— Have you been sucked in?

  - I haven’t been! – I grumbled— Gramps, where’d you pluck such catchwords? Oh…

  Once out on the pier, I stood next to Gramps, immediately equaling him in height even though I was clearly higher than the old creature. The underground island was covered in a thick layer of sticky mud, into which I sank almost to the knee. Now this was what it meant to be “sucked in.” If I sunk in a little more, it would be necessary for a bulldozer to get me out. I wasn’t going to let Tyrant onto this land. It wasn’t necessary. He’ll sink into the mud up to his ears.

  - Gramps, is the higher ground drier? Huh?— I asked hopefully, wistfully looking around.

  With a wet slap a thick yellowish step of a plant landed on my head, speckled with small berries. It took away a few hits of life and didn’t add to my good humor.

  - Oh! – said the creature happily, tearing the fallen stem off me— Ripe! They’ve matured! Let’s go! Let’s eat together! And will have drinks! Well, let’s talk about out affairs.

  - Friend! And here you are! – ahead of me appeared my old friend the bog creature, having slid right down the mud slope of the island. An alarmingly red fish dangled in his paw— Joy! There is fish! Come on…

  - Pfirly, govorsyuk matyuk! – growled Mohrusha, hitting his young disciple on the head with his short staff. And then added a heel to the side.

  “Kindly retire, my dear boy”— said my internal translator.

  The young bog creature, whom I remembered from the terrible Ravendark Swamp, returned immediately, without waiting for another strike on the head. He left so quic
kly I didn’t even have time to wave. It’s strict here… granddaddy clearly rules with an iron heel…

  - Follow me! – with an invigorated voice said the elder, busily pulling up his loincloth.

  And I followed— tearing my feet out of the mud— after the cheerfully skipping Mohrusha. By the way— he didn’t sink into the mud. As though he were walking on dry land. The island was quite large, but we did not have to go far— just a dozen steps, and we stopped at a deep pit filled with mud. The mud was boiling, and at its surface scurried small snakelike bodies with black shiny scales. Utter and complete terror!

  - My house! – proudly informed Mohrusha.

  - I’m not going in! – I cut off— Don’t be offended, my friend Mohrusha. But there’s something crawling there! A lot of things crawling!

  - But they’re dibilids! – the elder snorted in surprise— Clean the skin, scrape the heels, eat up the remains, mix up a mud bed, make bubbles. They guard the house. They’re good!

  - I do not like dibilids— I admitted involuntarily, thinking unhappily of how these creatures “make bubbles—“ I will sit at the edge of the pit… u-uh.. I mean I will sit on the stoop of your cozy home, my dear Mohrusha!

  To hell with the bubbles… how in the world do they guard the house? And what do the dibilids do when people violate the private property?

  - Well, sit down then— generously said Mohrusha, jumping to the bottom of the put. Immersed to the waist, he busily rummaged among the dibilids and fished out a tightly sealed bottle— A liquor! Thick! Strong! Will you have some?

  - No, thank you— I hurriedly shook my head— But I thank you will all my heart for the offer! Dear Mohrusha… so what happened to you back there? And why couldn’t you talk to me there, at the waterfall?

  - At the waterfall? – asked the elder, eyes bulging in surprise.

  - Yeah. There.

  - What do you mean! What if someone overheard? This is a great mystery! Impossible to talk about like that! There are frogs and there are herons, the land is full of animals! What if they hear and relay!

  - A frog will relay? – I muttered angrily and then, overpowering myself, purred softly— Well then! I am ready to listen!