Forts: Liars and Thieves

by Steven Novak

  Following the furry little creature’s extended finger, Nestor glanced over his shoulder. What he saw in the distance caused his heart to sink. Extending as far as the eye could see in nearly every direction was an armada of Ochan ships that blanketed the horizon entirely. Hundreds of them. Maybe a thousand. So many, in fact, Nestor dared not count for fear the exact number would cause him to break down emotionally. Every last one looked to be on a direct course with Briar Patch, and at the speeds they seemed to be progressing, they would arrive within the hour.

  Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

  *

  *

  CHAPTER 56

  FALSE TRUTHS AND NECESSARY LIES

  *

  After shoving his way through the crowd of worried creatures stuffed into the streets of New Tipoloo, Chris Jarvis stormed into Zanell’s modest dwelling and slammed the door against the interior dirt wall with a bang. High above, an army of Ochan soldiers, workers, and bizarre beasts of burden continued their march toward the doorway leading to the hundredth world. Every single footstep of the enormous digging monsters resulted in a series of tremors that cascaded across the city below, shaking clumps of dirt loose from the ceiling and filling the streets with a dusty fog of uncertainty. Seated on the edge of her bed, Zanell stared wide-eyed into the simple blue flame of a candle in her lap. Lost in the endless variations of hue and the mysteries residing within, she seemed indifferent to everything happening around her. Keenly aware of all that had occurred before and would occur again, the expression had become more the norm than otherwise. On the opposite end of the spectrum, a confused and angry Chris stared at her from the doorway.

  The ground beneath his feet shook again, filling the tiny room once more with a fine layer of dust. “I’m sorry, but I can’t just sit around here doing nothing anymore!” he snarled, his chest heaving.

  “You’ve told me more than once that you would take me to my kids. I’ve waited patiently, and I can’t wait anymore. I need you to tell me where they are, now!”

  Pushing his way through the crowd, Fellow Undergotten stepped into the room behind Chris. Wrapping his arms under the man’s armpits, Fellow tried to gently nudge the angry human into the street, apologizing for the interruption. “I’m sorry, Zanell. He got away from me in the commotion.”

  Whipping his arm free with a snap, Chris took two large steps in Zanell’s direction. He was sick of being calm, he was sick of waiting, and he was sick of all the weirdness going on around him. He wanted to find Nicky and Tommy and get out of this place. The problems of these creatures were theirs alone; he had enough to deal with as it was.

  Breathing heavily, Chris tried valiantly to lower his voice and steady his emotions. Every part of his body felt annoyingly itchy, covered in a fine layer of dirt that only added to his feeling of general unease. “Look, it’s obvious you people have a lot on your plate right now. I get it. I’m sorry for that, but it’s really not my problem. I just want to find my kids. If you can’t help me, great. I don’t care either way. I’ll do it on my own. I just need to know one way or the other because I can’t just sit here anymore. I can’t. I won’t.”

  Looking up from her flame, Zanell gazed wearily in Chris’ direction. The man’s face was sweaty, his hair an awful matted mess of stiff unwashed follicles and clumps of perspiration. The cloud of dust filling the room obscured his sharp features and naturally sad eyes. Even if she hadn’t known absolutely everything about his past, it would have been painfully obvious that he was walking a tightrope, struggling to maintain his balance with every ounce of remaining strength …moments from falling to his doom.

  Staring at him from behind the ghostly flame, Zanell’s eyes turned soulful, her lids as heavy as her heart. Softly she whispered, “I’m sorry Christopher. We can’t go, not yet.”

  Chris Jarvis threw his hands in the air. “God damn it! I could have been out there already! I could have been looking! I could have been doing anything other than sitting here on my ass doing nothing!”

  Running his hand through his sticky-crisp hair, he managed to once again just barely wrangle his anger back under control. The bonds he used to momentarily tie it were weak, however, and they would not last long. Staring at Zanell sternly, chest heaving, he pointed his index finger in her direction, stating through gritted teeth, “You lied to me.”

  Turning quickly, Chris shoved his way past Fellow Undergotten and back into the crowded street. Through it all, Zanell remained expressionless. Again the city shook. Nearly losing his balance, Fellow braced himself on a nearby wall in order to remain upright. On some level, he understood Chris’ frustration because he was feeling it himself. For so long he’d followed the word of Zanell to the letter, even when that word seemed to make little sense, if any at all. Leaving the children in the care of a former Ochan general …he still believed that was a mistake, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise. Standing beside the door with his head hanging low, Fellow turned to Zanell and shook his head. Immediately she looked away, gazing into the candle gripped between her long, bony fingers once again.

  “I can’t do this anymore,” Fellow whispered softly, rubbing his eyes in a vain attempt to alleviate the pressure rapidly building up behind.

  “Can’t do what?” Zanell responded, her attention remaining on the flicker of light.

  “This, Zanell. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

  Again the city shook; again a cloud obscured the pair.

  “Those kids—they saved my life, saved the lives of a lot of us. I know you told me I needed to stay here, but what exactly is it I’m supposed to be doing here? Nothing. I’m not doing anything. I don’t think I can leave this all in the hands of the gods or fate or whatever magic you can see that no one else can; I just can’t. I’m not wired that way. I’m sorry.”

  Staring at her from across the room, Fellow waited patiently for a response. None came. Again the city rumbled, a much larger mass of dirt descending from the ceiling and drowning the room in the largest cloud of dust yet, completely obscuring everything residing inside. Outside Zanell’s door, more than a few of the city’s inhabitants shrieked in fear, scurrying to their living quarters in hope of finding safety. Safety, however, was only an illusion in this world. A large part of Fellow Undergotten was beginning to believe the same could be said for the words of the newly appointed Fillagrou elder. He had grown weary of illusions. When the dust at last cleared, Fellow noticed that the candle previously held between Zanell’s fingers has fallen to the dirt, its magical blue flame was now buried under a mound of fallen soil—extinguished.

  Through the remnants of the smoke, at last Zanell gazed in his direction.

  Fellow breathed deeply, paused to locate some much-needed courage, and said, “I’m going after them.”

  Though barely a moment in actual time, the instance of quiet between the two seemed an eternity. Again Zanell looked away; again New Tipoloo was rocked by the weight of the enormous beasts above. Reaching down, she scooped her candle from the dirt beside her feet and blew the excess dust from the wick.

  “Well? Do you have anything to say? Give me a reason, Zanell; convince me that staying here is the right thing to do. Give me something, anything.”

  Waving her hand gently over the dusty candle, the blue flame spurted to life once more. Turquoise shadows cascading across her wrinkled face, Zanell glanced momentarily in Fellow’s direction before offering to him only two words: “Be careful.”

  The Chintaran grit his teeth and mumbled in frustration, “Fine.”

  A moment later, Fellow had left the room and was swallowed by the growing mass of creatures coalescing outside Zanell’s dwelling in search of spiritual guidance. Inside, Zanell cursed the universe for giving her none to offer them. Sighing deeply, she turned her attention from the flame. She hated having to treat Fellow that way, hated having to lie to him. He was her friend and he didn’t deserve it. If things were to progress as they should, however, the moment was unav
oidable. Zanell understood all too well that what she had said was exactly what needed to be said, exactly what had been said before, and would be said again. The time was approaching when many sacrifices would be made. By compression, hers was tiny, almost pointless. Fate could be a generous mistress at times, but she was equally harsh. In the end, that which had been written would not be denied, no matter how badly one might hope to do exactly that.

  Dreamily, Zanell gave herself to the hypnotic flicker of the blue magic once more.

  Gazing into the vastness of the universe can be an awesome, life altering revelation that will change one for the remainder of their days. There comes a moment for all, however, when the universe gazes back.

  Zanell was no exception.

  *

  *

  CHAPTER 57

  RESCUE MISSION

  *

  Awkwardly shoving his way through the crowd of worried New Tipoloo citizens, Fellow Undergotten screamed across the dust filled city, “Wait a minute! Hold on a second! You don’t even know where you’re going!”

  Ten feet ahead of him, an infuriated Chris Jarvis wormed his way past one bizarre creature after another, mumbling angrily beneath his breath the entire time. The city continued to shake under his feet as loose dirt piles plumed sporadically from the ceiling. Maneuvering himself in between something vaguely resembling a Sasquatch with fingernails nearly three feet long, and a creature sporting a pair of ears so floppy they were dragging in the dirt near its feet, Chris approached the stone doorway he used to enter the city a couple days prior. Pressing against the massive boulder with his back, he tried to muscle the rock aside and accomplished nothing. Digging his feet into the sand for extra leverage, he tried again; it did not budge an inch. Exiting the crowd at last, Fellow spotted the man attempting in vain to pry open the massive stone, his face a sweaty grimace of frustration.

  “That’s not going to work,” Fellow offered with a sigh.

  Chris Jarvis heard the fish man and chose to ignore him . His skin felt itchy, his pulse much too quick. Emotions he’d struggled to keep in check since releasing himself from the iron grip of the drink began bubbling dangerously to the surface. The strength he only recently discovered inside himself was cracking and splitting, perilously close to shattering to pieces. The scariest part of the entire situation was the fact that Chris knew there wasn’t a single solitary thing he could do about it. For the moment, it would seem that he was the one being controlled, and not the other way around.

  Turning from the huffing, sweat-covered man, Fellow looked across the sea of worried creatures huddled together in the crowded city street. A few among the group had been reduced to tears; others now teetered on the brink of a terrifying, all-encompassing rage. More still were simply confused, wishing beyond hope they could somehow return to their lives as they were before the onset of the war. Fellow understood better than most that this was an impossible dream. Things would never go back to the way they were; it simply wasn’t possible. The awfulness the tyrant King had laid at their doorstep had changed them all in ways many of those residing in New Tipoloo weren’t yet fully aware, and might never be.

  There was no coming back from this.

  Turning back to Chris, Fellow watched as the man continued to struggle against the weighty stone, ultimately gaining no ground.

  “Even if you did somehow manage to get it open, this tunnel isn’t going to take us where we need to go. In fact, if we tried to use it to get into the forest, more likely we’d end up squashed between the toes of a digger.”

  Chris stopped shoving and wiped the sweat from his forehead, flicking it to the soil. “What do you mean, we?”

  “I mean we, as in you and me.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since about five minutes ago, when I decided to tell the spiritual leader of the rebellion, who also happens to know everything there is to possibly know in the whole of the universe, that she has no idea what she’s talking about when it comes to your kids.”

  Though he found the fish man’s attempt at humor not entirely appropriate considering the situation, Chris grinned.

  Fellow, of course, grinned back with a breathy sigh, rolling his massive blue eyes. “Yeah, you know what? Now that I’ve said it aloud like that, it doesn’t seem like such a smart move on my part, does it?”

  The city shook once more. Over Fellow’s shoulder, Chris noticed that the mass of creatures outside Zanell’s dwelling near the end of the block had swelled, tripling in size. Every one of them seemed anxious for her to emerge and remind them that everything would be okay. It was at times like this that they needed her more than ever.

  Turning his attention to Fellow, Chris scanned the blue-skinned fish man from top to bottom, unsure of what to make of his offer. He’d grown tired of these creatures and their promises. He was wary to take another at their word.

  Dusting the caked dirt off his shirt, he took a few steps forward as another tremor rumbled the city. “Why do you want to help me?”

  “Honestly, don’t take this the wrong way, but it doesn’t have too much to do with you specifically. Your boys and their friends. They saved my life. Plain and simple, I owe them. I owe them big, and I can’t sit here any longer while they fight for their lives out there without at least trying to help them, no matter what Zanell says. I have to be better than that.”

  For reasons Chris Jarvis didn’t fully understand, it was at this moment he decided to trust the blue-scaled fish man. For the second time today, he was allowing himself to trust Fellow Undergotten, a fact he wasn’t fully comfortable with, yet a fact nonetheless.

  Brushing a mound of soil from his hair, Chris stepped away from the massive stone door and closer to Fellow. “So if we can’t go through here, how the hell are we supposed to get out of this place?”

  “We’ll use the Western passage,” Fellow responded quickly. “It’ll add just a little time to the trip. At the same time, though, it’ll keep us from getting captured by any patrols wandering about. I can tell you from experience that getting tossed in an Ochan dungeon isn’t exactly high on the list of things either of us should want to do.”

  “Fine. Which way, then?” Chris asked while rolling his sleeves, anxious to proceed, his forearms covered in a thin layer of grainy dirt.

  “Not so fast. We can’t go charging into the forest like a couple of idiots. We’ll need weapons, a plan, and some backup. Long story short, we’re going to need some help.”

  Chris followed Fellow through the crowds filling the streets of the ever-rumbling city. Slowly the fear of those calling New Tipoloo home, brought on by the Ochan army above, had settled into a quiet uneasiness. The city hadn’t been located and wasn’t going to be invaded. If the opposite was true, they would have been dead already. Whatever was going on above didn’t directly involve them. While this could hardly be considered good news, it was considerably better news, and in this situation, considerably better had to be enough. It took very little discussion on Fellow’s part to convince others to join him and Chris in search of the children. Many of them were saved by Tommy or returned to the realm of the living by Staci’s healing touch, facts they had not forgotten. In no time at all, the group of two expanded to fourteen. Each new creature brought with them a wide anxious smile and an eagerness to shake Chris’ hand, or simply touch his skin.

  He was the father of the gods, after all.

  A massive creature more round than tall, covered in bumpy, bright red skin and sporting a gray goatee nearly a foot long, stood on the tip of its dirty toes and planted a sloppy kiss on either side of Chris’ face. With a gumball-sized blob of spittle leaking down his cheek, Chris smiled at the weird looking thing awkwardly. The moment it turned, he wiped the sticky substance away and smeared it onto the fabric of his jeans. Every addition to the group brought more of the same. Stories of the things Tommy, Nicky, Donald, Owen and Staci had done or were prophesized to do got wilder and more unbelievable. Blasts of energy blowing castles to
pieces while searing the flesh of lizard men black, the dead being brought back to life, and balls of light capable of blasting apart the clouds—it was all so unbelievable, every last word. Even taking into consideration everything he’d seen since sinking into the stream near the boys’ tree fort, Chris couldn’t help but find the wild tales difficult to believe. They couldn’t be true, they just couldn’t. Could they?

  With the group having ballooned to nearly thirty, Fellow began handing out only the weapons he believed New Tipoloo could spare. Taking any more would have put the city in grave danger, leaving them helpless if the army above managed to stumble onto its location. This was something Fellow could not allow. Gathered around another stone doorway on the opposite end of the city, Chris found himself awestruck at the willingness of these bizarre creatures to help his children. Despite the living conditions and the awful stench of death surrounding them, the strange beasts were willing to put their lives on the line to rescue the kids. They were willing to kill or die, or possibly both, simply to ensure their safety. He found the gesture touching, confusing and strangely horrifying. Putting so much faith in children seemed fundamentally wrong, a mistake waiting to happen.

  Standing atop a rock to the left of the Western Passage doorway, Fellow Undergotten called out loud enough for the gathered mass of would be rescuers to hear: “The plan is to take the tunnels as far as we can. Above ground we’ll do our traveling at night. No doubt the forest is fairly packed with Ochans at the moment, so the chances of us running into a regiment or two are good.”

  With the group staring back at him, Fellow paused. The vast majority agreeing to come along had experience in battle on some level; more than a few, however, did not, including Chris Jarvis. For them, the journey would be the most dangerous. It was them who would be changed the most by the situations they were bound to encounter, and whom he now chose to address specifically.