by C Lee Tocci
The demons were out in force today. They swarmed up the side of buildings, pushed their heads through walls, and leapt onto the oblivious pedestrians as they passed.
They were vile little demons, hairless and barely human looking, their skin was mottled with many colors, mostly a rancid purple with green festering boils. Sometimes, if he couldn’t get enough alcohol, the festering green boils grew until they covered their skin. If it got really bad, they began to turn black with decay.
Then the carnage would begin.
That the people of the town could not see them was a point of both horror and envy to the madman. The demons would leap onto their heads or cling to their backs. They would reach into their bodies and pull out parts of their souls, eating them like dripping entrails. Sometimes, when the pedestrians bothered to look at him, their eyes mirrored the hate and contempt of the demons clinging to their shoulders.
Mostly though, they walked by, ignoring the madman and blind to his tormenters.
Maybe it was the lack of alcohol that caused the demons to be so outrageous today. The alcohol made his head hurt and his stomach retch, but for a few blessed hours, he was free of their torture.
Yet it could have been the group of strange children that caused today’s rampage. They certainly seemed interested in them when they walked down the street, but they were unable to attach themselves for more than a moment or two. A remote part of his mind watched with detached curiosity as the demons leapt down onto the group, their teeth bared, their long clawed fingers outstretched to attack. They seemed most attracted to the smallest child, but whenever they leapt to grab her, they bounced away as if repelled by a mighty blow.
And while there was an aura about the smallest child that seemed to attract them, the madman wondered if it might be the eyes of the smallest boy that repelled the demons. When the boy looked at him, his large grey eyes seemed to hold some secret knowledge. It was as if he not only could see the demons, but also knew their source, the rotting depths of the madman’s soul.
A demon fastened itself to back of the black girl and for a moment, the bile of its hatred spewed from her eyes. He tried to swat the demon off her, but frightened, she retreated. As she drew away, the demon jumped off her back and returned to taunt him.
The boy was gone, dragged off by the black girl, but his eyes still haunted him. With a scream of rage, he scratched at his own face, trying to claw away the memory. A few frightened pedestrians scuttled away when he smashed his bottle against the nearest wall. As the last precious drops of his alcohol spilled to the ground, he collapsed onto the sidewalk, sobbing.
He prayed the escape of death would come soon.
“They are a bit out of control, aren’t they?” he heard a small gentle voice say.
The madman pulled his hands from his face to see the boy with the large grey eyes sitting quietly beside him. They sat silent for several long moments. The boy looked up and down the street as if he saw the demons.
“They are your warriors. You are their Chief,” he said at last.
“You can see them?” The madman was stunned.
“They’re your warriors,” the boy repeated. “They will obey you, but not without discipline.”
The madman snorted. “Discipline? How do you discipline a nightmare?”
The boy gurgled. While his eyes might reflect some inner ageless wisdom, his laugh was that of a little boy.
“When you discipline yourself, you will discipline your demons,” said the boy. Then his voice turned serious, “but first you have to purify yourself.”
“How?”
The boy gazed into space, as if listening to a voice only he could hear. “You know how.” He looked as if he was speaking to someone else. “You know what you have to do.”
“Devon!”
The madman looked up to see the angry black girl approaching. She grabbed the boy’s arm and began to drag him away.
The boy did not protest, but turned back to smile at the madman. “Goodbye, Chief!” he called back.
Chief.
Not the derogatory nickname given to him by the local police officers when they regularly locked him up. No, this title was for a man who was the ruler of his demons. A King. A Sachem. A Chief. The Chief looked up and saw all his demons clustering on the street, watching him with apprehension.
The Chief gave a small nod. He knew what he must do.
The Chief stood. Leaving behind all his possessions piled into a rickety cart, he walked north into the desert. He had been born here in Malagua and never once had he left this blighted town.
He walked through the desert for forty days, eating nothing, drinking only the morning dew or the water from some rocky spring. His demons followed him, taunting him, torturing his body with the lust of alcohol. Some days he could not move at all. He lay curled on the desert floor, surges of pain racking his body, waves of despair pummeling his soul. His demons grew desperate, conjuring him food and drink, offering respite from the pain. And yet the Chief held steadfast.
At the end of the forty days, the Chief looked and saw the vast army of his demons, now brown and golden as the earth, with no will in their eyes but to serve their Chief.
The Chief stood. Somewhere deep within him, he had always known that he must serve. He now had the strength to answer the call. He walked east out of the desert, towards the mountains, his soldiers following in his wake.
He knew he was called.
Devon was completely unrepentant when Marla dragged him back to the group. Todd’s reprimands only produced a placid smile and the comment “I needed to talk to him.” Todd shook his head in resignation and led the troop east, to the outskirts of town.
They used the remains of Jeff’s cash to buy food to refill their packs. Todd nixed the idea of Jeff stopping at an internet cafe to use his new powers to replenish their cash or get new bus tickets. Jeff was certain with Dave in his hand, he could mask the transactions so that the enemy couldn’t detect them, but Todd had his doubts.
What Todd didn’t say was that he had a lot of misgivings about finding Kiva from the inside of a bus. That he had qualms about finding Kiva at all was an understatement. His dreams had led him to think that Kiva wasn’t near any town or road, but as they stood on the outskirts of Malagua, the highway rolling east, the desert stretching to the foot of the distant mountains, he was overwhelmed. Kiva could be anywhere.
A flutter of movement caught his eye.
A large black bird soared high above the desert to the north. The raven hovered almost motionless in the purple sky of dusk for several moments before flying towards the mountains northeast of Malagua.
Todd released his breath with a sigh of relief. He couldn’t tell from this distance if it was Grey Feather, but at least it was a direction. With a nod, he steered the group into the desert, following the raven that floated like a fleck towards the distant mountains.
Chapter Thirty Seven
The Horsemaster
They hiked deep into the desert before resting that night. They huddled together on the rocky ground and stared up at a sky with more stars than they’d ever imagined. Was this the same sky they knew from Dalton Point? The carpet of stars was so deep and rich it looked like a pulsing cloud overhead. Todd smiled when Lilibit reached out her hand as if to touch them. The night sky seemed more vibrant and alive here, as if it were a vital and interested part of their world, not just a meaningless backdrop.
His eyes open barely a crack, his mind dithering on the edge of sleep, Todd sensed rather than saw the shadow of a large black bird pass overhead. A dark patch on a living canvas, seen more for the loss of the stars behind it than by the sight of its wings.
Entrusting his flock into the keeping of the raven, Todd slept.
Into the town of Alamos-Tierra they came. Dozens upon dozens of them. Driven by a need they could not put into words, they arrived by foot, by train, by car, by horse, some even by bicycle. Many were of the People, having received the call during the
ir visionfast, but even more were from far away, beckoned from the distant corners of the planet, answering the call of the Stone.
Most were between the ages of thirteen and fifteen. Some were as old as seventeen or eighteen. A few were as young as eleven or twelve. Some came with their parents, puzzled but supportive of this strange vision driving their children.. But most of them were alone, having left what little home or family they had to answer a summons that came from the Stone beneath their feet, an edict they could not deny.
They milled about like geese in the fall, waiting for a sign to move.
Then, with one mind, they set out, walking single file into the desert.
Outside the Palisades of Kiva, they camped and waited. And from the topmost ridge of the Sienna Sentries, Gil-Salla watched them arrive.
Ten centuries had passed since the Earth Stone last beckoned the Neophytes. This was to be a new generation of Stone Warriors. It was a good sign.
The Neophytes had arrived. The Stone Voice was coming.
Todd woke with the dawn but didn’t wake the others. Just because he didn’t need more sleep didn’t mean he had to push the others. He sat on a nearby stone, watching the sky lighten and scanning the horizon in all directions. No creature that did not belong to the desert was seen. Todd waited.
Marla stretched and yawned, then immediately clasped her stone. She spoke with Ulex for a moment before nodding a greeting at Todd. With a twisted smile, Todd accepted the inevitable: Marla’s connection with the man from the Nether Rock was as strong as ever.
Lilibit woke next and, not being burdened with any element of consideration for the preferences of the other travelers, climbed over them noisily, calling her good mornings to them all.
Their path that morning took them out of the desert and into the grassy foothills that rolled along the base of the mountains. Cresting a hill, they stopped to scan the meadows below.
In the distance, they saw swirls of dust kicked up by something moving quickly across the valley floor. They hunched down and hid amid the scrub and it wasn’t until the cloud was within a mile of them that they could make out its features.
“Horses!” Donny grinned happily. He jumped up and ran towards the herd, but the wild horses were too fast and far away. As the herd passed, they saw it was made up of only a dozen or so mustangs along with a few foals and yearlings. At the pinnacle of the stampede was a huge golden brown stallion.
Laughing, Lilibit grabbed Donny’s hand and pulled him, following the trail of the retreating herd. When they reached the trodden tracks, they waved and called after the horses. Jumping up and down, Lilibit slipped and fell on her behind, which only made her giggle more.
Lilibit’s laugh was contagious, but everyone’s smiles faded when Lilibit picked up a stone from the dust. With a now familiar gesture, she brushed the soil from it and held it to her cheek. Her eyes lost focus for a moment, and then she smiled and turned to Donny.
“Here Donny. His name is Doo-Shi and he wants to stay with you.”
In her open hand sat a large reddish brown stone. It didn’t look that much different from the millions of other stones carpeting the desert floor, and yet they knew it was.
By now, Donny was the only one of them who didn’t understand the importance of Lilibit’s stones. Todd held his breath as Donny cheerfully plucked it out of Lilibit’s palm. He gave a deep gurgle of laughter and pocketed it with a grin. Lilibit turned to Todd and her smile dimmed when she saw how they were all staring at her. She shrugged.
With a wary glance at Donny, Todd resumed their trek towards the mountains.
As they climbed the next hill, Donny lagged behind to look at the horses. The herd had stopped a mile or so away, grazing peacefully.
“Come here, horses!” Donny cried loudly. “We want to ride you!”
“Todd!” Marla whispered. “Look!”
The horses stood stock still, their ears peaked as if they could hear Donny’s distant call. Then the gold stallion pawed the ground and reared up on his hind legs.
“Come horses, come!” Donny called again. “We want to ride you!”
The entire herd broke into a full gallop and headed straight towards them.
All too soon, the herd was upon them. From a distance, they had looked noble and handsome. Stampeding directly at them, they were terrifying. Marla screamed and started to run, but Todd grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him. He hefted his staff and motioned for the others to get behind him as well. They all obeyed except Donny, who stood apart, waving his arms and grinning at the approaching herd.
The golden brown stallion galloped directly to Donny while the other horses circled. Even the foals seemed bigger than normal up close, but the stallion was huge. Donny was tall, but the stallion towered over him. It was strange that Donny didn’t seem the least bit frightened, he just reached out to pat the muzzle as the horse snorted angrily.
The ring of horses slowed to a gentle walk. Two of the foals dropped out of the circle to graze quietly and one of them wandered over near Devon and Lilibit. She tentatively reached out to stroke the friendly foal, smiling as the foal gently nudged its head against her hand.
Todd relaxed and was reaching out to pat the foal too when a powerful jolt hit him from behind. He whirled to find a large black mustang butting against his back. Cautiously, Todd stroked the mustang’s neck and ran his hand across his back, reveling in the scent and sensation of the animal. Nearby, Donny climbed on top of a large boulder to mount his stallion.
Todd was amazed. He knew Donny had never ridden a horse before, but there he was, sitting comfortably atop the trotting stallion. His hands grasped the horse’s mane as the animal circled the herd.
“Get on! They’re gonna take us to Kiva!” Donny called with a grin. “They say they will serve.”
“Serve what? Who?” Todd asked, puzzled.
“I dunno.” Donny shrugged. “That’s just what he said.”
“Hey!” Lilibit cried out indignantly. “Cut it out!”
Todd turned to see Lilibit, trying to climb onto the back of a small freckled foal, but a large gray mare kept nosing her away. Todd could see why.
“No, Lilibit.” Todd stepped between the girl and the foal. “It’s way too small to be ridden yet.”
Lilibit looked skeptical, but even though she was still reed thin, she was still too heavy for a young foal.
Todd looked around to see what other horse might work for her, but it appeared that this wasn’t a decision he was allowed to make. The gray mare nosed Todd gently and presented her flank to be mounted. Todd shook his head.
“No,” he said as he patted the mare’s neck, “you’re too much horse for her.”
But the large mare would not be put off so easily. When Todd tried to place Lilibit onto a sober looking brown nag, he was hit in the back with a much less gentle nudge. The two of them tumbled to the ground, and Todd looked up to find himself nose to nose with the determined looking mare. He shrugged, and with some serious qualms, placed Lilibit onto the back of the gray mare.
Lilibit was delighted. She squirmed around on the mare’s back, laid on her stomach and rubbed her nose into the mane.
“She’s like an old auntie!” Lilibit sat back up and clutched the mane, as comfortable as if she’d been born on the back of horse. Old Auntie took a few careful steps and Lilibit hung on, grinning.
After seeing Lilibit trot about, Devon and Nita were ready to try. Todd hoisted Devon up onto a palomino colt and Nita on brown and white pony. They both had worried looks on their faces, but Nita only screamed a little when her pony started a slow walk. Todd walked beside them for a few minutes until they found their legs.
“SON OF A ---!” The rest of Jeff’s curse was lost as he landed with a painful sounding thud on the packed turf. He had chosen a feisty rust-colored mustang to ride and his mounting style looked more like wrestling than equestrian. He leapt back to his feet, brushed off his pants, gritted his teeth and charged the horse again, screa
ming like a crazed chimpanzee on the attack. The horse waited until his hands were within inches of its neck, then dropped its head sharply. Jeff gripped air, slammed his chest against its flank and slid to the ground, winded.
The horse snickered.
“Um, Jeff?” Todd wasn’t sure what advice to give, but he really thought that Jeff should try a different tactic.
“Shaddup!” Jeff growled, fire in his eyes. He approached the horse like a bear in slow motion. The horse’s ears were flat back and its tail flicked the air, but it didn’t move. Jeff grabbed the mane and crawled up the flank, flopping all over the mustang’s back as he tried to get himself seated.
The horse’s ears perked forward, its tail slapped back and forth but still it did not move.
With a grunt, Jeff righted himself and glowed cockily as he sat astride his steed.
“You see?” He grinned smugly. “All you have to do is show him who’s boss!”
With that, Jeff gave the mustang a possessive slap on the butt.
The horse moved.
Jeff clung with both hands to the mane as his mount bucked and kicked. It didn’t seem possible, but there were times it looked like all four hooves were off the ground. For three wide-eyed seconds, Jeff clung to its back. With a final buck, Jeff lost his grip and flew through the air, landing flat on his back with a breath-robbing thud.
Todd winced and walked over to where Jeff lay, winded. He bit his lip as he looked down, trying to find something to say.
“Shaddup.” Jeff said when he could breath again.
Todd helped Jeff to his feet and turned to look back at the horses. Donny slid off his horse and walked over to the rusty mustang, patting its nose and whispering to it.
“Try again, Jeff,” said Donny. “He says he’ll be good.”
Jeff walked sorely back to the mustang, shooting a hot glare back at Todd who fought to keep from laughing. With Donny at its head, the mustang allowed Jeff to get back on. Donny patted its jaw, whispering “good boy” into its ear until Jeff settled on. They took a few steps around in a circle and then Donny stepped back, letting Jeff ride the horse alone.
