by Stone Thomas
“Mamba,” I said. “If she hurt you—”
“Not just me,” she said. “Brion needs help, and I hope he finds it. We have to watch her though, or she’ll fill his eyes with vinegar instead. Gelma is no doctor. She leaves people worse than she finds them.”
Great. Now Brion needed even more protecting. Some people in life have a thing. They always botch the punchline of their own jokes, or they get a terrible case of the burps every time a pretty girl looks their way. Brion’s thing seemed to be causing everyone more trouble than he was worth. With any luck, he would turn that against Kāya too, by giving us the inside scoop on what his goddess had planned.
We followed a path through the forest we had taken before, but now we had the benefit of using our map to make sure we didn’t accidentally deviate from our route. I had my enchanted compass in my pocket, and followed the blue dot it relayed to the map to ensure we headed right for Barren Moon. The walk was long, and not without danger.
“No one step on the shadows,” I said. “Mamba taught us that last time. There’s a creature called the darkwind lurking in those shadows, and stepping on it makes it mad.”
“Should I ask Larry to take us part of the way?” Mamba asked.
“Let’s not tire him out just yet,” I said. “He’s our backup plan if these shadows spring to life.”
She nodded, but suddenly, an idea struck me. I took a few quick paces further ahead and out of earshot.
“Savange,” I whispered. “Are you… a darkwind?”
She laughed directly in my ear. Her voice was harsh and dry. She appeared in the form of swirling shadows that walked alongside me, casting her dark feminine shape over the trunks of passing trees. She wasn’t a big-haired woman with long legs this time though. She was a young girl with pigtails, still speaking in that same grating rasp.
“A swarthling like me is no writhing monster, boy. Your darkwind is a shadow of a beast, but I am a beast of the shadow. You do well not to forget that.”
“I’m not sure I even understand that,” I said. “Can you help me see the darkwind as we travel through the forest? We need to avoid angering it.”
“I’ll light your path,” she replied. “My guided tour of your world is far from over and the last thing I want is for you to fall prey to that monster. Any monster but that one.”
“Or no monsters at all, please,” I said.
“Swarthlings don’t make that promise,” she replied.
I played with my map as we went, zooming in and out, testing the distance between Halcyon and places we’d been before. Barren Moon was ahead, and then Avelle’s temple. The part of Landondowns we had explored was colored in, though the rest of the city was a mystery. The map just showed a solid patch of gray there, which extended over the rest of the world. The same gray that covered the patch of land Valleyvale had once inhabited.
As I zoomed out further, a spot of color emerged at the map’s edge. Somewhere deeper south, possibly inside the elf lands, was a city I had mapped out before.
I’d never been to the elf lands, but that didn’t matter. I had been to Valleyvale, and that’s where it was now. Kāya’s gigantic anibomb had moved the city almost a thousand miles away.
I folded up the map. I had to get there. I had to save the people I had left behind. But how?
The forest was mostly dark and mostly quiet as we walked. The trees blocked much of the light before it could hit the ground, but every now and then small patches of sun broke through the canopy and speckled the dirt below.
We stuck to a well-worn dirt path that had been cleared of trees and overhanging branches, giving us better visibility ahead and behind us. It was a narrow strip of sunlight, and while an occasional shadow sat across our path, Mamba led us in a hopping, skipping dance over each one.
Only Cindra seemed to mind this route. Even with her parasol, her pace slowed considerably under the sun’s warm rays. We had no choice but to stick to this path though. The darkwind’s only foe was fire, and the forest was not an ideal place for that.
Our morning hike didn’t stay tranquil for long. Something grunted and squealed at random intervals, too deep into the forest to see but close enough to put us all on edge.
Vee jumped at the noise each time and pressed her thick glasses flush against her face to squint into the trees. She waited an hour into our trek before she asked, “Should I be afraid of that sound?”
“Absolutely not,” I said. “That sound is harmless. It’s whatever made that sound that I’m worried about.” I didn’t want to spook her, but the further into the forest we got, the closer and louder that sound became.
“I’ve heard that sound before,” Mamba said. “I just don’t remember where.”
“Maybe I should build a portal here, so we can escape whatever it is,” Vee said. “I can’t run in this dress.”
“Why are you wearing that tight dress?” I asked.
“It gives me plus one to Constitution!” she said.
“And minus ten to movement,” I replied.
“If you must know,” she said, “I’m recently single. I want to look my best in case there are any suitable suitors on our trip.”
“You do look lovely,” Mamba said. “Like a crow’s feather dipped in silk and swept inside a tulip song.”
Another squeal stopped me in my tracks. I peered ahead to scan for its source when the darkness between distant trees shifted and moved. A black outline overtook the ground in the shape of curved tentacles that fingered lazily at the earth. It sprawled across the path ahead, and across a wide stretch of the forest floor, a vision of the darkwind only for my eyes.
Thanks to Savange, I could steer us clear of the darkwind’s waiting arms before we even got close, though it would take us far out of the way.
No thanks to Savange, however, the tumultuous beast responsible for the high-pitched squeals in the distance was close enough for a surprise attack. It rammed into my side while I was distracted with the image Savange had shown me.
I landed on one knee and watched as the horrific monster continued its wild spree, trampling everything in its path, snapping fallen branches with thick, short legs. It was a fat four-legged animal rampaging without concern for the difference between ordinary shadows and the ice-cold lying-in-wait eat-you-alive shadows that hid on the forest floor.
“I’ve seen that sight before,” Mamba said. “I still don’t remember enough.”
The monster skidded to a stop and swerved back toward us. Its body was covered in loose pink skin that wrinkled and sagged from its sides. A dozen long appendages extended from its face, surrounding its nose and mouth. They were thick, and just as pink, wiggling like greedy fingers.
If a small whale and a large pig made a hideous lovechild, this creature would say, “too bad that hideous lovechild is way out of my league.”
The plump, squat beast lowered its head to the ground and resumed its waddling run. I lifted my spear, but braced for an impact. The creature dashed toward me, and when I thrust my weapon forward it swerved, digging its front feet into the ground and launching its rear toward me. The monster’s hefty body pivoted, slammed into me, and knocked me back to the ground.
In the corner of my vision, I saw Brion flee into the trees. Then the pink, wrinkled creature landed on my body, its rear end pressed up against my face and its head between my legs. The creature was too fat and heavy to roll off of me.
I only had a moment to consider how uncomfortable this position was when a new position took hold. The monster’s ten-fingered face pressed into my crotch and closed those appendages tight.
“Oh,” Mamba said, “that’s right. It’s a grippersnout. Very tight grip.”
“You don’t say,” I squeaked.
+31
Breathing. It’s a hard thing to do when a grippersnout has your manhood in its clutches. I kicked and pushed, but couldn’t get the monster off of me, and its massive weight prevented Vault from moving me even an inch from the ground. The girls
rushed to my side and tried to heave this beast free, but nothing worked.
I held my spear against my face and pressed up, forcing the wrinkly, pink grippersnout ass to lift a smidge further from my face.
A stringent meow rang out overhead and I looked up just in time to see a fully grown lionkin man falling from a high branch with all four paws stretched out. He landed atop the grippersnout, pressing that monster’s body further into mine.
So Brion hadn’t run off after all. Instead, as I lay there on my back under the sweaty, grunty body of a hefty finger-faced beast, my least favorite beastkin pounced on top and made us a grippersnout sandwich.
Worst threesome ever.
And that was before the grippersnout started using its teeth. I heard my pants tear as it tried to peel away my clothing with its snout, likely in an attempt to eat my flesh.
Brion straddled the beast, pinning his thighs against it and then throwing himself to his side with just enough force to roll our three-body flesh-pile onto our side. Cindra kept an arrow aimed and ready, but there was no good shot.
I slammed the butt of my spear against the butt of my enemy, and the metal handle sank into the monster’s hide but didn’t pierce its loose, floppy skin. Brion continued to wrestle with it while Mamba kicked the monster in the side. Her battle heel showered us in red sparks, but the monster didn’t seem to care much about her Toehold. Her foot just sank deep into the grippersnout’s rubbery side.
It took four kicks before the grippersnout finally reacted by releasing its grasp on me. Brion scrambled to his feet and I gave the monster a kick of my own, rolling it onto its back. It bucked and writhed, making a series of terrible sounds, but couldn’t set itself right again.
“You stayed,” I said to Brion.
“The goddess I serve may not respect the Great Mother,” he said, “but I still do.”
Everyone relaxed for a moment, catching our collective breath while the grippersnout snorted and kicked its short fat legs against the air.
Then I heard it. Movement, deeper in the forest. Leaves rustled and branches snapped not far from where we stood. The grippersnout wasn’t the only thing hunting us.
“We need to move,” I said. “Fast.”
Mamba began to sway her hips, but I stepped behind her and wrapped an arm around her stomach to pull her close and stop the dance that would summon Larry. “No bonersnakes. There’s a darkwind further down this path and we need to be careful not to wake it. See those shadows?” I pointed at the outline Savange highlighted in my view. “There’s no branch overhead to cast them. They’re alive.”
“Don’t leave me!” Vee yelled, as if that were even a consideration. The portal mage tried to hike her dress up, but didn’t get very far.
Cindra walked up to her. “Sweetie, I’m going to make a tiny alteration, okay?”
“No,” Vee pleaded. “This is my favorite dress.”
Cindra stared into the woman’s eyes for a moment. Vee stared back, seemingly captivated by the faint glow of the slime woman’s pupils.
“You’ll never find a man hiding those tight calves and slender thighs,” Cindra said. “Somewhere, there’s a man waiting to find a damsel in distress, and you’re dressed like a widow librarian.”
“Fine,” Vee said. “A small alteration.”
Cindra knelt, pinched the cloth of Vee’s tight dress mid-thigh, then used the arrow in her hand to start a small hole in the fabric. The next thing I knew, Cindra had spun Vee around 360 degrees, tearing loose the dress’s lower half and dropping the ring of black cloth to the ground. Her legs were bare from her ankles to her middle thigh.
Vee blinked twice behind the thick dark rims of her glasses before saying, “I’m glad I shaved my legs.”
“Now can we run?” I asked.
It was too late.
“Hands off our grippersnout!”
A handful of men with light blonde hair and pale skin ran through the trees, leaping over fallen logs and small bushes. Two had weapons raised — a crossbow and a pair of knives — while one man carried an oversized burlap bag. The fourth trailed further behind, tugging on a leash with a yellow-green creature attached.
That’s where my eyes lingered. That pale-colored creature had smooth, polished skin and a face with a long elephantine trunk and round floppy ears, but no eyes.
“What god do you serve?” I asked as the men got closer. They just laughed and headed for the grippersnout.
“Gypsies serve no gods,” the man with the crossbow said.
The one with the leash tugged it hard, forcing the pale-skinned familiar to run faster. When they got closer to the grippersnout, the man pressed the familiar’s face against the sweaty pink skin of the massive beast, and a yellow-green burst of magic erupted from the familiar’s long, thick nose.
The grippersnout fell silent and went limp, though it was still breathing. The other men helped force the beast into the burlap sack.
“Where is Gorinor?” I asked. “We have business with him.”
“Tell your slime pet to lower her weapon and we’ll talk like civilized men,” the guy with the crossbow said, narrowing his beady eyes. His pale gypsy friend started to drag the bagged grippersnout away, leading their leashed familiar along the dirt path toward Barren Moon.
“Cindra is no one’s pet,” I said. “Cindra, you can put your bow away.”
“Tobby,” Mamba said, “what are you doing here?”
“Loonlark?” the man asked.
Mamba ignored the man’s use of the insulting nickname her people had given her. “Your bloodkind lives much further into the elf land forest.”
“The Chal called for an early bassador this year,” Tobby said. “Apparently there’s a big important issue facing our people, but mum’s the word on how to deal with it, at least until all the bloodkinds assemble. I’m not ranking though, so I’ll just partake in all the usual debauchery while the Chal talks business.”
His eyes turned toward me. “You said you’re looking for Gorinor?”
“That’s right,” I said. “And it’s Mamba. Her name is Mamba.”
Tobby’s pale cheeks started to redden. “Of course,” he said. “Follow me.”
“No,” I said. “You follow me. There’s a darkwind up ahead, but I’ll take us around it.”
He cocked his head and regarded me for a moment, then shrugged. I stepped forward to take the lead when Tobby asked, “Where’s Yubo with our grippersnout?”
A yell from deep in the forest answered that question. Tobby’s associate had already started hauling the bagged beast through the woods, and dragged the burlap sack right across the darkwind’s waiting tentacles.
The shadows moved of their own accord, looping and curling like the arms of a slimy octopus made of untouchable darkness. A gypsy man was raised off the ground, clutched in the monster’s grasp, while the grippersnout lay motionless beneath him.
“Yubo!” Tobby yelled. We all ran toward the darkwind, including the smooth-skinned familiar the gypsies still hadn’t explained.
“Escape,” Savange said, “now!”
“We can’t leave him to that beast,” I said. “Does anyone have fire magic?”
Frightened glances between members of our little party indicated that no, we lacked the one magic that might save this man.
Tobby shook his head for a full five seconds, cursed, and ran. The two other gypsies ran after him, abandoning the wrinkled beast they had subdued and disappearing into the forest.
Brion put a hand on my shoulder. “This Yubo appears lost.”
“Run if you want to,” I said. I rushed toward Yubo while the others hung back.
Vee scanned the forest around her. “All I need is an arch and a few minutes to activate a portal with this idol. If we bend some branches that might be enough for now.”
I ran into the darkwind while Yubo yelled for help. We had escaped a darkwind once, we could do it again. I bent my knees and activated Vault, leaping off the ground and reaching f
or Yubo’s leg. My fingers grazed his shoe, but my jump hadn’t been high enough.
I was in the darkwind now, my legs surrounded by the thick shadows that comprised the monster’s tentacular body. Just touching this creature filled me with ice. There was a stillness to it, a frozen and motionless sensation that spoke of eternity.
Then Yubo screamed for the last time. I watched in horror as his body stopped moving and faded into nothing. My eyes clung to a shape that wasn’t there. He had vanished into the monster’s shadowed depths.
Then my own vision went black. It started at the corners of my eyes, but the darkness closed in around me until I had only a pinhole of vision left, a tiny tunnel through which to see the entire world.
“You will run,” Savange said, “if you ever want to see again.”
“How—”
“I control your shadows!” she yelled.
I shook my head and started to run. Savange released the shadows that encroached on my vision as the darkwind’s arms raced after me.
“It’s Barren Moon!” Mamba said. She was a few yards ahead on the dirt path that lead through the forest. We had come too far to lose our way now. I sprinted toward her, but something stopped me.
Guilt?
On the ground, snoring softly in a burlap sack, was the ugly pink animal that had crotch-grabbed me without permission. Was it a deadly foe, or just a terrified animal running from gypsy hunters and begging, in its own weird way, for protection?
I turned back and ran toward the sack.
“Don’t test me, boy!” Savange yelled. “The darkwind will ruin this for me.”
“Back off,” I said, “or I won’t be able to evade it.”
She kept to herself after that, allowing me to dodge the shadow-beast and snatch the cord that cinched the burlap sack closed. I dragged it down the dirt path while the darkwind rushed toward me.
Hands. They rushed to my aid, sharing the burden of heaving this obese creature toward Barren Moon. Cindra, Mamba, Vee, even Brion. Ten hands and ten legs against the unruly darkness.
