The Orphans' Promise

by Pierre Grimbert

  Troubled by the sight, Bowbaq said, “There shouldn’t be any aurochs here. How can that be?”

  “But there isn’t an auroch here, Bowbaq,” Rey responded. “At least not a living one.”

  Lana inquired in a quavering voice, “How did it die? Sickness?”

  “Maybe,” the warrior answered. “Well, let’s get going. I would like to get off this island as soon as possible.”

  Grigán had seen a good number of carcasses in his life, but he had never heard of any sickness that left an animal completely drained of blood. This island had at least one species of vampire, bat or otherwise.

  He didn’t think it mattered enough to trouble his companions with this detail. For once, the warrior was wrong.

  The creature tossed and turned in its sleep. Many spirits were thinking about it right now, and some of them were very powerful. It could hear them, even as it drifted into the deepest of dreams.

  It dreamed of crossing the sea, flying through the night, tasting the fear and suffering of humanity. What a pleasant dream it was. But there were other images too: those of children, a valley, a portal, and other things it didn’t understand or remember flashed through its mind. They interrupted the dream. It didn’t like the emotions the images brought. Its hate for humanity grew. It banished those dreams and went searching for spirits that continuously talked, like a buzzing noise in the back of its mind.

  It immediately detected its friend’s spirit and admired its intensity, though that wasn’t the one it was looking for. It sifted through a thousand others, rejecting them disdainfully. None of them deserved its attention. It continued hunting, gliding through thousands of other spirits that were just as talkative, insipid, and boring. It partially woke from its sleep to force itself to listen better until it finally found something interesting—the spirits of the humans it would soon kill. They hated it. Feared it. The creature welcomed their hate, rejoicing in it, and drew new strength from their scorn.

  If the creature were to wake up completely, it could kill one or two of those humans with a thought, but doing so would cause it to sleep for a long time afterward, a very long time. And that wouldn’t be any fun. Its last escapade in the land of mortals had given it a taste for blood. A distraction like any other. And the creature was so bored, and searching for distractions…

  It let itself slip into sleep again, relishing the good days to come. It would soon be strong enough to not have to sleep. It grew stronger every day.

  As it listened, almost completely asleep now, it felt another thinking spirit turn toward it. This spirit was close to its human enemies, but wasn’t human. A spirit with enormous powers, much more powerful than its own.

  The creature recognized this new spirit and woke up completely this time. Usul. Now it remembered. It remembered every single moment. And hatred overwhelmed the deepest parts of its being as it unleashed a cry of pain and anger into the night.

  “Did you hear that?”

  Grigán stopped the column and listened to the sounds emanating from the Sacred Island’s tropical forest. He could only hear the hooting of a few nocturnal birds and the cacophonous chirping of a dozen or so species of insomniac insects.

  “What did you hear?” he asked Lana, who had sounded the alarm.

  “I don’t know, to be honest,” the Maz said, apologetically. “I want to say a scream. I must be mistaken. Forgive me, I’m too nervous.”

  “No need to apologize; it’s better to give a false alarm than to ignore a real one. Don’t hesitate to do it again.”

  The group resumed their progression and forgot the incident—all except for Lana, who thought she could still hear the scream echoing in the air. With time she forgot it too, her attention shifting to the difficulties of this nocturnal march, and to her approaching encounter with Usul. It would be the most important moment of her life, and perhaps the last.

  The heirs hadn’t found out yet how the Guoris were guarding their Sacred Island. Up until this point, it had all been too easy, and a new fear whittled at their confidence: What if there was nothing to guard? What if the island had no more gods than it did flying margolins?

  With these pessimistic thoughts on their minds, they arrived at the first incline to the island’s summit. They had made it to the center of the island, and the biggest animal they had seen was a cowardly little mimastin monkey. The island was deserted, but the void feeling was more frightening than if men had been patrolling the forest.

  Grigán studied the mountain of rocks and sand that he would normally have just called a “hill” on the continent. Vegetation clung to the mountain three-quarters of the way up, and then abruptly stopped, leaving rocks to dominate the summit. From that high up, the lights they carried would be seen. If there was any danger to be had, they would soon find out.

  “Put out your lantern, Bowbaq,” he said. “We are going to use only one.”

  The giant complied while Yan wrapped a cloth around his lantern, dimming the light. A chill swept through Bowbaq’s body as darkness enveloped the group. He marched with fists held tight, jumping at the slightest sound or suspicious movement.

  The climb wasn’t difficult since the slope was moderate and the plants could be used as handholds, but the heirs advanced with such precaution that it took them as long to reach the edge of the vegetation as it had taken for them to get to the bottom of the hill.

  The rocky summit was only fifty feet ahead, and there was still no trace of Usul, or of anything else. Sensing Grigán’s hesitation to put the group at risk, Corenn resolutely scaled toward the top and was soon followed by the rest of the procession.

  The mountain must have been a volcano several eons before, but the only remaining evidence was a few scattered rifts in the rock and a layer of solidified magma that had been cold since the Two Empires.

  “Usul would come to meet us, if he were a polite host,” Rey mumbled. “For now, I have no desire to pay him the honor of a future visit.”

  Corenn responded, “It would surprise me if we ever had the occasion, anyhow.”

  No one dared to ask what the Mother meant by that. Something none of them wanted to hear was Corenn confessing her fears about their future. They needed her to be their confident, reassuring leader.

  Before they realized it, they were at the summit. It was more or less a flat plateau about thirty yards in diameter. Grigán spent a long time scouting their surroundings, his bow taut with an arrow that had been notched since they left the Othenor.

  “There’s nothing here,” Rey commented with disappointment. “Uuu-suuul!” he called out once, and then a second time, louder, “We’re here! You have visitors!”

  “Quiet!” Grigán ordered in a tone that he hadn’t used in a long time. “Do you really want us to be spotted?”

  “But there’s no one here, my dear friend. No one!”

  Léti approached Lana with a sad expression. She didn’t want to admit another failure, another blighted hope. “Maz,” she asked respectfully. “Where is Usul? Why isn’t he here?”

  Lana slowly shrugged her shoulders, embarrassed by her ignorance. What could she say to the young woman who had trusted her completely?

  Yan suddenly broke the silence and announced, “I found something. Be careful as you come near.”

  “What is it? Another carcass?” Rey asked.

  “Look for yourself.”

  The heirs gathered behind the young man, who carried their only lit lantern. Yan lowered it closer to the ground, exposing the rocky edges of a well that appeared to go deep into the ground. He cautiously explored the edges and told them it was four feet wide.

  “We could have fallen in,” Corenn remarked, the fear obvious in her voice. “I should have known that at the top of an ancient volcano, there has to be a fissure…”

  “Do you think Usul is inside?”

  They all turned toward Maz Lana to get the opinion of their specialist. So much unearned confidence made her uncomfortable. She confessed, “I don’t know.
Maybe.”

  “For a Maz, you don’t have much faith,” Rey responded.

  “You are right. I have always believed that gods live among men. And I have always believed that Usul is held prisoner in the Land of Beauty. So yes… He Who Knows is down there.”

  The heirs circled the well, curiosity overwhelming their fear as they peered down. Léti threw a pebble into the well, to Bowbaq’s dismay. The superstitious giant saw it as an impolite sacrilege that could only bring them misfortune. The rock hit a liquid surface less than five feet below.

  Grigán, frustrated, announced, “It is completely flooded. This well could be as deep as the hill, but we would never know.”

  They stared down the dark hole, growing more disappointed. They would have to do without Usul’s divine knowledge.

  The water began to bubble up inexplicably, followed by a burst of water that shot over their heads, drenching them with spray. It was over as quickly as it had started.

  “It’s a sign,” Lana exclaimed, suddenly very excited. “Usul is sending us a sign!”

  “It’s a natural phenomenon,” Grigán disagreed. “There’s nothing miraculous about it. A simple coincidence.”

  Yan studied his friends’ faces, their indecision obvious, and then contemplated the dark chasm that might contain all the answers. It was one of those moments in life where a single decision could determine an entire destiny. He set the lantern down.

  “I’m going down,” he announced, as he took off his shoes.

  “Are you crazy?” Léti reacted. “You aren’t going down there! At least wait until it’s daytime.”

  Grigán reminded her, “We can’t take that risk. We need to leave the Land of Beauty before dawn.”

  “I will just go down a few feet below the surface,” Yan explained, as he continued undressing. “If there is a god below, he has to talk to me, right? If not, we’re stuck.”

  Yan was scaring himself. He couldn’t believe what he was saying, what he was getting ready to do.

  “I’m supposed to be the one who goes,” Lana declared in a shaky voice. “I’m supposed to take the risk.”

  “Do you know how to swim?” Yan asked, continuing to undress.

  The Maz didn’t respond. She wanted to lie, but that would have been stupid. If she went into the well, she would drown.

  “I do; I know how to swim. I’ll go,” Léti offered.

  “Too late,” the young man said as he sat on the edge of the hole. “I’m already going.”

  “Wait,” Grigán ordered as he pulled out a thick, long rope from Bowbaq’s sack, a provision he had bought from Raji. Yan understood and wrapped the rope around his body, securing it under his arms, while Grigán tied the other end to a large rock.

  The young man turned and smiled at each of his friends. Only Corenn and Rey returned his smile, but only to encourage him. The others wore defeated expressions, filled with doubt.

  Then Yan pushed the rest of his body into the void and began to climb down the well. The last time he had embarked on a similar effort, it was to save Léti. But wasn’t that the point this time too?

  His left foot felt the water’s surface, and he let himself slip down into the water slowly, unable to stop himself from imagining that some aquatic monster was waiting for him, just waiting to drown him in the depths, and then devour him.

  “It’s cold!” he yelled toward the top of the well, toward the light, toward his friends, out of reach. “See you soon!”

  And he dove.

  Léti, Corenn, Grigán, Bowbaq, Rey, and Lana counted the lapse of time that separated them from their friend. All their attention was focused on the dark chasm that had just swallowed Yan.

  They didn’t notice the many pairs of red eyes, circling around them, growing more and more numerous, coming closer and closer. Thirsty for fresh blood.

  Yan opened his eyes even though it was useless. It was pitch-black. He couldn’t even see his hand when he waved it right in front of his face. He decided to continue into the watery depths, using the rocky walls to push his way down headfirst, fearing his forehead would smack into something solid at any moment.

  Though the rope was a little uncomfortable, it was reassuring. The young man hoped to find an air pocket in some underground cave farther down where Usul would be waiting for him. If that turned out not to be the case, he didn’t know what he would do. He could already feel the nagging need for air, but he forced himself to continue his descent anyway.

  He figured he must have dived ten yards below the surface by now, perhaps even more, and he still hadn’t found a side tunnel leading to an underwater cave. The unpleasant thought came to him that he might have to make several descents to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. But, for now, the best thing to do was to make it to the bottom, so he swam on.

  The well narrowed, and the walls became smoother and harder to grip. Occasionally, Yan experienced strange sensations in his feet and hands, like something touching him. He hoped they were underwater currents and not some threatening life form. He was beginning to lose hope of finding Usul, yet he forced himself to keep diving.

  He felt like he had left the world behind. How deep was he? In the midst of total darkness, the rope was the only thing that still reminded him which way was up. He was starting to feel intoxicated from the lack of air. He forced himself on, and gave one last forceful breaststroke.

  His face hit something, and he panicked. It was just sand. He felt around to make sure. He had reached the bottom.

  His felt his diaphragm spasm, begging for air. He peered into the darkness, but saw no better than when his eyes were closed. He pushed off the sand with his hands, maneuvering to make the ascent…

  A deep, contemptuous voice suddenly intruded his mind, filling him with terror stronger than he had ever known.

  It would be stupid to have made it all the way down here just to give up now, boomed Usul. We have a lot to talk about, you and I.

  Lana couldn’t contain a cry of terror when she noticed, before anyone else, the glowing eyes spying on them from the darkness. The heirs momentarily forgot about the well to deal with their own problem. It was looking serious. Fifty or so pairs of eyes surrounded them.

  “Don’t move, whatever you do,” Grigán whispered as he slowly stepped toward the lantern.

  He delicately pulled off the cloth that had been covering the lantern, which revealed enough light to illuminate the first few members of the curious pack, before they scurried back into darkness. The heirs had seen enough to get an idea as to the danger they faced—even Grigán had goose bumps.

  The spies looked like enormous rats, standing more than two feet tall on their hind legs. They had two enormous incisors that protruded from a withering muzzle. On their faces they wore a bloodthirsty look, which made them look almost like deformed children. Their front paws had claws that they deployed and retracted like a nervous tic. Worst of all, a few of them looked crippled, which suggested that they weren’t just scavengers, but predators.

  “What are they?” Léti whispered to Bowbaq. “They’re huge.”

  “I don’t know,” the giant confessed, his voice cracking. “Grigán?”

  “I’ve never heard of anything like them. It might be a species from the Eastian Kingdoms.”

  “The Guoris could have at least warned people about this nice setup,” Rey complained.

  “They might have done so,” Corenn explained. “Each Guori surely knows how dangerous it is to visit the Sacred Island. And now we do too…”

  Grigán slowly gripped his curved blade. Léti did the same with her rapier. Rey pointed his crossbow at the red eyes and said, “Maybe we can scare them off?”

  “Do they look scared to you?” Grigán said.

  In fact, the vampire rats, now emboldened by their growing number, were approaching the edge of the lit area in little hops. A few started a strange dance, scampering around the circle of light.

  “They’re fast,” Léti said, swallowing hard. />
  “They look tough,” Corenn added, grimly. She almost added: If they attack, we’re done for.

  For now, Bowbaq felt it most wise to keep his mace in hand. Grigán handed a dirk to Corenn, who accepted it reluctantly, and another to Lana, who completely refused.

  “I am telling you to take it,” the warrior commanded. “If one of these little beasts jumps at your throat, you will be happy you have it.”

  The Maz took the weapon with disgust, as if it were one of the beasts itself, awkward in both hands. The rats grew more and more agitated, and now she prayed fervently to Eurydis. Everyone must die one day, she thought. But not like this. Not devoured by these creatures.

  One of the rats started a strange, piercing call. Soon, all the others followed its lead, causing a dreadful racket, a squealing chorus that was fifty voices strong.

  “Prepare yourselves,” the warrior warned. “We have to try something.”

  The heirs got ready to put up a fierce fight; the rats would have to pay dearly to get a taste of their blood. Léti wasn’t sure of herself. She had learned to fight against humans, but what could she do against an army of fast, strong, and hungry animals?

  “Rey,” Grigán called out. “Try shooting one that’s the farthest away. You’re a good-enough shot. With a bit of luck, they will turn on each other.”

  The actor shouldered his crossbow, deciding not to bring up the fact that Grigán had just shown him such unprecedented respect and trust. This wasn’t the time to worry about their relationship.

  “I hope they don’t have much for family values,” he whispered to himself as he pulled the trigger.

  One of the rats cried out in pain, and the piercing squeal stopped. The injured vampire rat rolled on the ground, momentarily clawing frantically at the air. The others turned their heads and watched it from afar. Finally, two of the beasts launched an assault on the injured one, seeing it as easy prey. The rat ferociously fought them off and forced its brethren to retreat. They weren’t determined enough to fight such a battle for so little blood.