by Gwynn White
Her panicked look told him all he needed to know. “Nuh uh,” she said, shaking her head back and forth.
He reached across and gripped both reins in one hand. “He-ah,” he barked, giving them a hard snap. Viola rocked back against the seat as the wagon lurched forward. “Then you’ll learn the same way I did. On the job.” He reached into the back, retrieving his goat-skull staff. “I’ll need some time to recoup my strength,” he said, closing his eyes, his staff positioned upright between his legs. “I would like to believe that I won’t wake up...dead. I hope my small request isn’t too ambitious for you.” White gems embedded in the eye sockets of his staff began to glow, the soft light seeming to wash over his body from head to toe.
“Liam,” she said, getting tossed around as the wagon zigzagged down the road. “Liam!” she repeated, this time with more urgency. It was no use. Whatever trance-like state had taken over his body, it was obvious he had fully succumbed to it. She gulped, holding the reins up high near her face. Remembering what she saw the old man do, she gave them another snap, hoping that would calm them down. It didn’t...
With a collective whinny, the horses picked up speed. The wagon rocked and rattled, weaving from one side of the road to the other. “Bad horses! Stop that,” she yelled, trying her best to reason with the unruly animals. Without the slightest hint of being disturbed, Liam’s unconscious body swayed back and forth through the chaos.
The wagon cut a sharp left, lifting two wheels up off the ground. Instinctively, Viola pulled the right rein to counter. It worked...a little too well. This time they cut a hard right, nearly tipping the other way. But the pattern was clear to her now. No longer committing to yanking one rein or the other, she eventually found a balance between the two.
Moving straight for the first time, she looked up to see Xavier staring back at her, eyes wide with a gaping mouth. Again, that feeling of heat rose in her face. Such a bothersome sensation that was. She grinned, trying to convince him she had everything under control. His open mouth shut, then quickly turned to laughter.
Owen snapping his fingers drew his attention away from Viola. After flashing a series of hand signals, the hunter pointed off to the right. Xavier turned back to Viola, a far more serious expression on his face this time. “We’re going off road,” he called. “Follow us and try to stay close.” She nodded, trying her best to look more confident than she felt.
Owen led the way, his beastly mount trampling down brush, mauling its way through the thick shrubbery. Xavier had little troubling following the wide, self-made trail. But Viola found it to be a daunting task. The wagon swayed back and forth, wobbling its way over uneven clumps of dirt. The metal wheels dug deep into the soil, digging trenches while skidding along. She did what she could to keep it straight, occasionally scraping against the rough bark of a thick tree. After each rasping, cringe-worthy scrape, she found herself glancing at Liam, concerned he may wake up at any moment to scold her.
Mercifully, they broke into a wide-open clearing and came to a halt. Owen gazed around for a time, considering his surroundings. “Yup, this will work,” he said, leaping down off his mount.
“Ah, good,” said Liam, reaching up into a long, exaggerated stretch. “I’m anxious to finally meet some people who aren’t trying to kill us.”
“How long have you been awake?” Viola questioned accusingly.
“Long enough, I suppose,” he admitted, hopping down off the side. “Now, to assess the damage you caused after hitting those trees.” He disappeared around the side, leaving Viola with her arms crossed, pouting. “Shall we set up camp?” Liam called out, anticipating being needed to aid in building another fire.
“No need,” Owen answered, just as the ground began to rumble. “They’re already here. Brace yourselves!”
The rumbling grew in intensity, soon resembling the shocks of an earthquake. Both Viola and Liam clung to the wagon, their grips weakening, fingers quickly going numb. Owen and Xavier backed away from the center, their warrior stability and keen sense of balance keeping them on their feet—barely...
The grass peeled downward, as if something was removing the soil from underneath. Seconds later, a large object erupted from the ground. Dirt and gravel burst in all directions, showering everyone with sandy grit. “Well, it’s about time ye showed,” Owen barked, before spitting out a bit of dirt.
Strongly resembling a green clam with hairy whiskers, the giant bud slowly opened. What looked like a long tongue rolled out invitingly, stretching flat across the ground. “Take only what you need,” said Owen, pulling two sacks off his lavics before smacking it in the rear, sending it away. “Our mounts know exactly where to go and wait for us. But we won’t be needing that wagon anymore.”
After gathering a few meager things from under the canopy, Liam set about unhinging the horses. After allowing Viola a moment to pet them one last time, he sent them running off into the woods. In her mind, the short time driving the wagon had become a bonding experience for her and the animals. She was sorry to see them go.
Owen led the way, aggressively wiping his feet on the tongue before disappearing into the green clam. The others followed, Liam and Viola displaying a bit of apprehension, more than taking their time. The tunnel was dark. Warm rushing air blew their hair forward and back, as if this thing was actually breathing. The strange sensation did nothing to ease their anxiety.
“Come on then,” came Owen’s voice, echoing through the darkness. “Quite yer stalling already.”
Viola made the mistake of touching the wall while attempting to stay balanced on the wet, meaty carpet. The wall was sticky and moist, prompting her to grab onto the back of Liam’s shirt instead. With slow, subtle strokes, she tried to wipe the slime on his shirt without him noticing. Through the darkness, they could see a faint light just up ahead. Within that light, the shadowed outline of Owen’s large frame was apparent. With a wave he urged them on before disappearing into the light.
“It’s all right,” Xavier said, politely slowing his pace in order to match theirs. It was obvious how uneasy these two were. “I promise you there is nothing to fear. Soon, you will both be among friends.”
A moment later they stepped into the light where Owen was waiting for them. He looked agitated as always, tapping his foot impatiently. The walls here were pinkish red with a glistening wet look, almost as if they were trapped inside of a watermelon. “We need to work out a better system!” he grunted to no one. “Do have any idea how long it took us to find you? Do you hear me, Thatra?” With a wet crackling sound, a sort of door split open from the side wall. In truth, the belching movement in the wall gave the appearance of watching the back of a person’s throat as they swallowed.
A small green creature hobbled through, its large white eyes with no pupils fixed on Owen. Just above his ears were two horns, thick and curled back like a ram’s, similar to the ones on Liam’s staff. His stringy garment looked to be made of dried vines, or some other such vegetation. He rushed at Owen, looking at first as if he might be attacking. Grabbing the hunter’s shoulder, he began tugging and pulling, awkwardly trying to remove the black body armor.
“It’s good to see you too, Orfi,” said Owen with a roll of his eyes, dipping his shoulder to aid in the aggressive removal of his armor and weapons. “What’s that? Oh, our journey was fine. It’s not like laberaths and dead people be trying to kill us or anything. Nope, just an easy, peaceful journey. But thank you for asking.” Both Viola and Liam began snickering at the odd, one-sided conversation. Xavier began removing his own weapons, both swords from his back as well as the rows of leather straps from his chest that housed his half-moon daggers.
With Owen’s gear in hand, the little creature hopped over to Xavier, who added his own weapons to the top of the pile. Frowning down at the gear, Orfi turned, practically running for the exit. “It was nice talking with you, Orfi,” called Owen, standing there in nothing but his boots and pants. The front and back of his upper body were covered
with scars, and one could only assume that probably held true for his lower body as well.
“Um...that was Orfi,” said Xavier, trying to clarify what that strange transaction was all about. “He does all the maintenance on our gear. In fact, he engineered most of what we carry. He is a genius, although not all that fond of social interaction.”
“You don’t say,” Liam mocked, watching the sticky slit in the wall melt back together. “But you also failed to mention that your friends were tarrins. I should have guessed the moment I saw this pod rise up from the ground.”
“Is that bad?” Viola asked, gazing around uneasily.
“Not at all,” Liam assured, placing his hand on her shoulder. He often forgot how little she knew of the world. “But I admit, I’m a bit surprised they even have dealings with you two,” he said, redirecting his attention back to Owen. “The tarrins are a peaceful species who mostly keep to themselves. I find it odd they would have any association with...um...”
“Mercenaries?” Owen finished for him, one eyebrow raised. “You read too many books, old man. Yes, the tarrins are a peaceful race...during times of peace. Do not confuse that with being helpless or weak.”
“I meant nothing of the sort,” Liam was quick to point out. “No insult was intended.”
“Perhaps not directed towards the tarrins,” Xavier cut in. “Yet you still seem to have no problem judging my master and I.”
“Drop it, Xavier,” Owen said, turning his back to them. “Let the old man come to whatever conclusion he wishes.”
“No, I won’t drop it!” Xavier snapped back, causing the hunter to turn and glare at his young pupil, a warning look in his eyes. The apprentice ignored him, turning his attention back to Liam. “Constantly, we are forced to defend our reputations in the eyes of the great mystic. What exactly do you know of us?” he asked, glaring up at the much taller man.
“Your reputations are larger than the room we stand in. Everyone has heard the stories of rage and bloodlust come to fruition, all for the sake of a few coins. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Liam asked with a sigh. “Must we really speak of this now?”
“That’s not what I asked you,” Xavier said, the angry edge in his voice starting to fade. “I asked you what you know of us, not what you’ve heard. We are already aware of our reputations.”
Liam rubbed his chin, beginning to understand the lad’s point.
“It’s best if our foes believe we are merciless killers,” Owen added. “I know you believe we wander the realm friendless and alone, open to any contract that’s shoved under our noses.” He looked up, raking his fingers through his long black hair. “Many of those stories stem from a time when that was indeed true. But not anymore. Those days are long over with, yet our reputations remain intact.”
“But here is what you don’t understand, Liam,” Xavier said. “It works to our advantage to be seen in such a dark light. Those tales aren’t true anymore, yet they give us an edge wherever we go. In fact, you and Viola are the only two living souls who know we have an affiliation with the tarrins. We brought you here to help keep Viola safe, but also because we trust you. Tell us, Liam, have we made a mistake in our judgment?”
Liam sighed. “Forgive an old fool,” he said. “I admit, to this point I have based too much of my judgment on your reputations, and not on your actions. And as for your question, no, you have not made a mistake. Sometimes even I can be influenced by the stories spread by others.”
With a sticky slurp, the slit in the wall opened up once more. In walked a tall female with long, curly red hair. As thick as it was, it did little to conceal the thick curled horns on the sides of her head. Her skin was green like the other tarrin’s, but with her less-than-modest clothing, there was quite a bit more of it to see. With a lean, toned physique, her long legs and chiseled arms were clearly those of a warrior’s. Her ridged stomach was knotted with muscles that seemed to twitch with each graceful step. Her fingers were disproportionately long, making her hands look spidery.
“So there you are,” said Owen. “Thatra, I would like you to meet—”
She blew right past him as if he were invisible, and stormed right up to Viola. Quite a bit taller, she hunched down to get a better look, her milky-white eyes only a few inches from Viola’s. “I don’t believe it,” she whispered, hands rising to boldly creep all over Viola’s face. “How could such dissimilar strands of nature find unity within a single vessel? It’s a miracle. I’ve never seen such a thing.”
“I am not a thing!” Viola hissed, her shadowy voice ricocheting from everywhere at once. She pushed the frisky girl in the chest, but only managed to send her own body backward. The reaction was similar to pushing against a wall and expecting it to move.
The green girl clasped a hand over her mouth, her creamy white eyes enlarging to the size of coins. “I am so sorry,” she said, looking absolutely mortified. “I don’t know what came over me. I never meant to imply— Well, you are most certainly not a thing.”
“Ahem. Let’s try this again,” Owen said, hand smacking up against his forehead. “This here is Thatra, one of my contacts from the Eldham village. Thatra, that tall gentleman there is Liam.”
“A pleasure,” said Liam, gently taking her hand.
“And the girl whose face you just groped is Viola,” Owen added sheepishly.
“Please accept my apology,” said Thatra, rushing back over to Viola. “I know I’ve made a horrible first impression, but I still hope that we can be friends.” Viola looked up at her, a mischievous look spreading over her face. With a grin, she grabbed Thatra by her horns and shook her head. “Hey! What are you—”
“There! Now we’re even,” said Viola, laughing at her own cleverness. “Now we can start over.”
“Very well,” laughed Thatra, turning back towards the wall. The sides split open with a wet squish. “If you’ll all just follow me, I’ll take you to a place that’s a little more comfortable so we can talk.” They followed her through the slit and out into a narrow corridor. Dimly lit, they moved carefully so as not to trip or accidently touch the sticky walls. Once already, Viola had made that mistake, and found that it was not a pleasant experience.
Up ahead, they could hear a series of grinding sounds coming from a room on the left. Liam took particular interest as the others passed, taking a long peek inside. Orfi was inside, running what looked to be a metal file across one of Owen’s swords. He slid the tool in long, even strokes, always going the same direction. On the table in the corner lay several disassembled pieces of what looked to be one of his crossbows.
After running the file across a few more times, he turned the blade on its side and picked up a steaming bowl with some sort of shiny, metal liquid inside. Using a coarse brush, he spread the hot liquid across the blade’s edge, which produced a crackling hiss.
Liam jumped when a hand lightly clutched his shoulder from behind. “A combination of silver, craduit, and a rare metal ore called ravlix,” said Xavier, answering the unasked question. “At least, those are the elements I’m aware of. I’m sure there are many more.”
“And what are the reactive properties of such elements?” Liam asked, truly fascinated by the process he was witnessing.
“That depends on the target in question,” said Xavier. “Different creatures react differently. Laberaths are highly allergic to the combination, among many other creatures of the underworld. In many cases, a minor scratch could prove fatal. As for humans, the mixture is about as dangerous as water. The blade itself would be a far bigger concern than the coating.”
“Viola?” Liam asked.
“I’m not sure,” Xavier shrugged. “I just told you how it reacts with the blood of both species, and Viola happens to be both. As to how her body would respond, your guess is as good as mine.”
“Perhaps we should avoid that particular test,” Liam replied dryly.
“Agreed,” said Xavier. “Let’s go catch up with the others. I promise to answer any other q
uestions you may have at a later time.” Eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, they made their way down the corridor. Although a bit humid, the air in here smelled sweet and flowery, serving as a reminder that they were indeed inside a living plant of sorts. Long ago Xavier had grown accustomed to the idea of being inside such a vessel, but Liam simply could not wrap his head around the idea.
“In here,” Thatra called, waving them in from a lit room just ahead. Like everything else they’d seen, the walls were a pinkish red with a slimy, wet look to them. But there were some comfortable-looking chairs dressed with large, soft cushioning—truly a luxury after being on the road for so long. A large globe hung from the ceiling, giving off a soft light that was rather easy on the eyes.
“Do you live in here?” Viola asked Thatra as she plopped down on a seat, gazing around in astonishment.
“Certainly not,” Thatra replied, taken by what she thought was a rather odd question. “The great boxa tree would never allow that. I am but a mere passenger, same as you. As we speak, we’re heading back to Eldham right now. I had hoped we could talk longer, but I’m afraid we’re almost there.”
“Wait, we’re moving?” Liam asked, placing his hands at the base of his chair. “I can’t feel a thing.”
“Indeed we are,” Owen said, leaning back in his seat, one leg crossed over the other. “And mighty fast, too. You asked me a few days ago about where we were headed. This was why I couldn’t give you a straight answer. I had to wait for Thatra to find me. I can tell when she’s close, but that’s about it.”
“The roots of the boxa tree can spread for many miles in any direction,” Thatra added. “Now that we have you with us, the root is just pulling back to the tree. We’ve been attached this whole time.”
“Incredible,” said Liam, wishing he had some way to take notes. They felt a slight tremor that shook the chairs ever so slightly.
