by Jim Hines
“The land is sick”? It’s like I gobbled up every fantasy cliché I could find, then vomited them onto my word processor. (Word Perfect 6.0, if I remember correctly.)
He looked at the ground. “The leaves are starting to fall,” he commented.
“It’s the middle of summer,” Whoo protested. He could see the thin carpet of dead leaves on the ground as well as the rest of them. But there was a strong urge to deny the existence of the wrongness around them.
Even if it had been the right season for the trees to shed their leaves, he would have known something was wrong. The leaves that had not yet decayed to a crispy brown color were green, as if the tree had been perfectly healthy when it lost its foliage.
“I know,” Nakor answered.
There was silence for a few minutes. Eventually, Jenn spoke up hesitantly.
“What’s happening?”
“Everything is dying,” Galadrion answered quietly. She had an intimate connection to death, and could feel it surrounding them. For the first time in years, she felt uneasy.
“It’s more than that,” Nakor said. “It feels…wrong somehow.” He frowned. “My magic is closely linked to the natural world. I can feel the energy around us.”
He looked at the others. “It feels wrong, distorted,” he said, frustrated. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
Neither did the author, obviously.
“Olara?” ventured Pynne.
“Probably,” Nakor answered. “Thomas said she twists the life around her.”
“Morselas said the area around Olara’s city had grown black and twisted through the efforts of her enemies,” Pynne said. “And that Olara had begun to ‘improve’ the world, returning it to a more natural state.”
“I suspect the land’s suffering is due to Olara,” Nakor commented. “She probably made up the story about her enemies in order to keep her followers from finding out just what kind of improvements she was making. By the time they learn what Olara is really doing, they’ll be too deeply ensnared in her web to protest.”
Nobody said anything after that. As they rode on, they began to see visible evidence of the distortion Nakor had described. The trees were now completely bare. A damp, sickly smell hung in the air from the thousands of rotten leaves that covered the earth. There was nothing green to be seen for miles.
Even the trees themselves looked wrong. Branches jutted out at odd angles, and the bark of various trees had begun to take on a dark, uniform shine.
“It’s like they’re just skeletons of trees,” Jenn commented. It was a disturbingly accurate observation.
Nakor’s horse abruptly reared in fright. Startled, Flame launched himself from Nakor’s shoulders, coming to rest in a nearby tree.
Hitting the ground, Nakor rolled back over one shoulder and came to his feet. Galadrion jumped from her horse and reached over to steady Jenn’s mount, preventing it from dislodging her as well. Once Jenn’s animal was secure, Galadrion looked up to see what had scared the animals.
About twenty yards ahead, standing in the middle of the path, was a large buck. But it was unlike the proud, beautiful deer they were used to seeing. The buck had obviously been affected by whatever was twisting the forest around them.
It was covered in sleek, glistening black fur. There were a few tufts of brown hair scattered across its body, showing what the buck might have looked like before being affected.
A magnificent pair of antlers jutted from its forehead. Nakor studied the antlers closely, noting the razor sharp edges and the lethal points. They gleamed metallically, looking as if they were made of steel. But the most terrifying thing to see were the eyes.
Basically, imagine a cross between Bambi and The Punisher.
Madness shone brilliantly from within those wide eyes. Moving slowly, Nakor began to cast a spell, hoping to talk to the creature.
Madness is very shiny.
The buck leapt forward without warning. Before anyone could react, its sharp antlers stabbed deep into the throat of Nakor’s horse.
With a sharp twist of its head, the deer broke the horse’s neck. It backed away slowly, freeing its antlers from the dead animal. Once its antlers had been withdrawn, the horse collapsed to the ground with a thud. The buck shook his head violently, sending a shower of blood in all directions.
This was too much for the other horses. Galadrion ripped Jenn from her mount as they turned and raced back down the trail, fleeing.
As opposed to racing down the trail, doing the Macarena?
The deer looked up, contemplating the escaping beasts.
Crossing his fingers, Nakor began to speak in soft, quiet tones.
The buck glared at him with contempt and snorted once.
Nakor took a step back as the animal began to advance. Noting the tensed muscles, Nakor leapt aside as the deer charged.
“Galadrion?” he called. “Whoo?”
Moving with incredible agility, the deer spun and launched itself at Galadrion. She stepped to one side and grabbed at the animal as it passed by. Jerking her arm back, she cried out and clutched her hand.
The buck stopped suddenly, biting at the small arrow that suddenly protruded from his side. It was joined by another, inches from the first.
Shaking its head in confusion, the deer reared up on its hind legs and kicked wildly. That was when a dagger tumbled through the air to hit it in the chest.
While it’s an interesting visual, I don’t think “tumbled” is really the word you want when describing a thrown knife.
The deer fell backward, letting out a high pitched shriek. It flailed about helplessly for a moment. Whoo took that opportunity to shoot it in the throat.
“Stubborn thing, isn’t it?” Nakor commented. The deer was still kicking weakly, despite the knife and Whoo’s arrows stuck in its body.
Carefully avoiding the sharp hooves, Nakor walked over and slashed the deer’s throat with his rapier.
We’re more than halfway through the book. At any point, have you felt any real sense of tension or danger? We’ve had characters talking about how bad and scary Olara is, and there’s been a series of interchangeable, two-dimensional bad guys for Nakor et al. to kill, but the threat doesn’t feel genuine. I’m not worried about the characters or the fate of the world, because nothing we’ve seen has come across as a true, believable danger. Including Serial Killer Bambi there.
With a final kick, it died. Immediately Nakor turned to Galadrion, who was still clutching her hand in shock. His eyes widened as he looked at the hand.
From between her clenched fingers dripped a steady red trickle of blood.
“I grabbed it by the antlers,” she explained with a wince. “They sliced into my hand like a razor.”
As they watched, the flow of blood gradually slowed, and then stopped. When she opened her hand, only a set of pink scars marked her palm. Over the next few minutes, those too faded away.
Shocked, the others watched wordlessly as she began to wipe her bloodcovered hands on her trousers.
“How?” asked Jenn, confused.
Galadrion turned to look at the dead horse, then at the deer. “I don’t know,” she replied.
“It’s the magic,” Nakor commented. “If a powerful enough enchantment is put on a weapon, it would be able to injure you. It seems that our friend the deer has just such an enchantment upon him.”
“Why would someone want a deer that could hurt Galadrion?” Whoo asked, confused.
“I doubt anyone would,” Nakor answered. “This is probably just a side effect of whatever is happening here.”
He looked Galadrion in the eyes. “Be careful.”
She nodded.
Jenn walked over to retrieve her dagger from the dead animal. Placing a foot on the body, she wrenched it free.
The dagger. She’s not wrenching her foot off or anything like that. This has been today’s lesson in pronoun antecedents.
Whoo, trying to get his arrows out of the body, found himself una
ble to do so. The tough skin of the deer prevented him from ripping out the barbed arrowhead. Finally, the arrow he was tugging on snapped, causing him to flap his wings madly to keep from falling over backward.
Pynne grinned. “I’m glad your aim is better than your balance.”
Whoo ignored her. “If everything in this area is as tough as that deer, we’re going to have problems,” he observed.
“I doubt everything will be this bad as we go on,” Nakor replied.
He stared sadly at the dead horse. “I suspect it will get worse.”
Dang, Nakor. Downer, much?
There was silence for a minute. Then Pynne said “The cliff looks like it’s just a few hours away on foot. Let’s get going before something else comes along.”
Silently, Nakor began to transfer the supplies from the saddlebags of the dead horse to his own pack. “We lost a lot of our food when the other horses bolted,” he said.
“So why don’t we just find something to eat?” asked Jenn.
Wordlessly, Galadrion picked a berry off a nearby bush. She tossed it to Jenn. “Would you like to eat something like that?”
Jenn studied the small berry. It was dry and shriveled, looking like a seed with wrinkled black skin. There was some resemblance to a raisin, but this berry was as hard as a rock.
“Right,” she muttered.
Then she looked at the horse. “Why don’t we eat that?” she demanded. “It’s dead anyway.”
Nakor knelt down in front of her. Keeping his voice low, he explained “I don’t like to kill other animals, as you may have noticed. Normally, though, I’d be more than willing to let you butcher the horse.”
He glanced back at Whoo and Pynne. “But pixies have an overwhelming sense of disgust at those who eat the flesh of other creatures. To them, it’s the same as cannibalism. To watch you eat that horse would be as repulsive to them as it would be for you to watch someone eat your child.”
Jenn nodded.
“We have enough food for the next day or two,” Nakor added. “Once we eat that, we can start to worry.”
Galadrion was slicing the straps on the saddle with a sharp dagger. “This way nobody will be able to use what we leave behind,” she explained, tossing the now-useless saddle into the woods.
After that, they turned and began walking toward the cliff. Seeing them leaving, Flame flew from his perch and landed gracefully on Nakor’s shoulder.
The next hour passed uneventfully. At one point, a squirrel hissed menacingly at the travelers from a tree. A loud shriek from Flame was enough to send it dashing away, leaping from branch to branch.
I kind of wish I’d written an Evil Squirrel fight.
Nakor grinned and ruffled Flame’s neck feathers. Shortly after that, Galadrion gestured for a halt. Her hearing was superior to even Nakor’s, and she had detected a faint noise up ahead.
“There’s something up there,” she said quietly. The pixies vanished immediately.
As they walked, the trees began to thin. Nakor began to faintly make out the murmur of voices in the distance.
Cautiously, they moved forward. Minutes later, they halted again. They were standing in back of a large, canvas tent. In front of them, the forest opened up into an enormous clearing. Hundreds of tents and crude huts were scattered randomly around the area. Toward the center of the clearing, more permanent structures of wood and stone could be seen.
Don’t you hate when you’re walking through the woods, and suddenly, BAM! You’re in a tent!
“I don’t remember this being here,” Nakor whispered.
“Olara’s city?” Jenn asked, remembering Pynne’s report.
“I guess.”
He pointed at the far edge of the clearing. A huge cliff, sunk into the mountain, stretched hundreds of feet into the sky. It looked as if something had taken an enormous bite out of the mountain in front of them.
“The temple entrance is at the base of that cliff,” Nakor said.
“That’s in full view of this city!” Pynne hissed in protest. “Whoo and I could get to it, but what are the rest of you going to do?”
Nakor thought quietly to himself. “First let’s go around the city and get as close to the cliff as we can,” he suggested. “If we wait for nightfall, it should be easier to sneak inside.”
He looked at the others, hoping someone had a better idea. Nobody spoke.
With an internal sigh, Nakor backed away from the clearing and began the long walk around it. Nobody spoke as they followed behind.
Chapter 7
Darkness fell.
Darkness jumped back to its feet and quickly looked around to see if anyone had noticed.
Hundreds of campfires spread a soft orange glow over the city. The clamoring of Olara’s followers had fallen to a faint murmur as people gradually made their way to their beds for the night.
It’s basically a big evil summer camp. I skipped over the part where everyone sat around roasting evil s’mores.
“All the light will make it harder for anyone to see us,” Jenn whispered. “Their eyes won’t be used to the darkness.”
I think I understand what I was trying to say there, but reading it hurts my brain.
They crouched together at the base of the cliff, partially hidden by a clump of bare, twisted trees. Several hundred feet ahead, they could see two of Olara’s priests standing guard in front of the temple entrance.
“Any idea on how we get past them?” Nakor asked, jerking a thumb at the guards.
“Wait until they get tired,” Whoo suggested. “Then sneak up and knock them out.”
“Dangerous,” Galadrion commented. “If anyone notices us, we’ll be trapped out in the open.”
“I’d love to hear a better plan,” Whoo said. He looked around, but nobody said anything.
“I’m getting sick of all this waiting,” Jenn grumbled to herself. Nakor grinned and shifted position, making himself more comfortable.
An hour went by. The moon crawled slowly across the sky, until it was directly overhead. As the moon neared the peak of its journey, the dim light shining down from above began to increase, adding to the illumination provided by the few remaining campfires.
The moon is directly overhead, and nearing the peak of its journey? The celestial mechanics of this world are fascinating.
One of the guards sat with his back against the cliff. His head hung limply, chin resting against his chest. He was clearly asleep.
His companion leaned against the rock wall, arms crossed. He yawned, but seemed unwilling to succumb to sleep.
It was contagious. Nakor, watching closely, fought hard to stifle an enormous yawn.
“You know,” Jenn observed, “if we wait any longer, that moon’s gonna light up the entire cliffside.”
Nakor looked up. She was right, any attempt to sneak into the temple would have to be now, when the guards were weary and the night was still dark enough to conceal them. He stood up.
Gesturing silently, Nakor began to move carefully in the direction of the temple. He hugged his cloak around himself, using the dark material to blend into the shadows. Galadrion and Jenn followed behind.
Soon, they were within fifty feet of the temple. The guards had still not noticed. Nakor stopped and turned to Galadrion.
“How do you want to do this?” he asked, keeping his voice low. “If they have the chance to shout, it’s over.”
Galadrion glanced over at the guards. “What about that sleep spell you did with Whoo?”
Nakor shook his head. “I’d have to be touching them. And even if I could get that close, the spell still takes a few seconds to work. It would give them all the time they needed to sound the alarm.”
“I think we’re going to have to kill them,” Galadrion said.
Nakor nodded. “I don’t like it, but I don’t see any other way to get in unseen.”
“You realize that they’ll come after us once they find the bodies?” Jenn asked.
Nakor’s r
eply was drowned out by a loud scream. He tensed, momentarily fearing that their presence had been discovered. Any trace of weariness vanished from his features.
Suddenly, a convenient distraction arrived!
The sleeping guard leapt to his feet, wiping drool from the corner of his mouth with one hand. He swung his arms back and forth once, loosening the muscles.
Someone’s screaming! Time to leap into action…just as soon as I do some warm-up exercises and stretches.
“That came from inside the temple!” Galadrion hissed.
“I know,” Nakor answered.
Up ahead, a woman ran out of the temple entrance. One of the guards stepped forward and caught her by the arm, pivoting on one foot to swing her to the ground. She started to get up, only to find the other man holding a dagger to her throat. She collapsed into a heap, sobbing.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just tie them up to begin with?” asked the guard who still gripped to the girl’s arm tightly in his hand.
“Yeah,” commented the other, sheathing his dagger. “But Olara likes it when they try to escape. She likes to play games with them, getting their hopes up and all that.”
Because she’s EVIL!
“Come on, get up,” said the first, nudging the crying woman with his foot. She looked about sixteen years old, with matted brown hair that came down to the middle of her back. She was dressed in a dirty white dress that did little to conceal her thinness.
“That girl looks like she hasn’t eaten in a week,” Pynne whispered, outraged.
The two men dragged the weeping girl to her feet and began walking toward the center of the camp, leaving the temple unguarded.
“Let’s go,” Nakor said quietly.
Thank you for your help, random sixteen-year-old girl! We’d try to save you, but we have Important Quest Stuff to do. Plus we already have one teenage girl in the party, so our quota’s full! Sorry.
Moving swiftly, they made their way to the temple entrance. It consisted of a dark crack in the cliffside, barely big enough for a grown man to fit through. A faint light could be seen from within.
“Go,” Nakor said, waving the others on. A slight fluttering of wings told him Whoo and Pynne had landed and were walking inside. Jenn followed behind.
