The Hunter

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by Rose Estes


  The remaining lizards seemed confused by the peculiar turn of events and stood on the path with their heads and tails thrashing back and forth in indecision. Of the remaining pellets, two had rolled over the edge, harming nothing, but the last lay on the trail between the hideous creatures and themselves, the tiny flame flickering uncertainly. Then, fanned by a vagrant breeze, it caught hold and flared up brightly, the wax burning with an intense heat. This was all the incentive that the lizards needed and they backed away from the fire, their booming voices echoing distress as they scuttled across the face of the cliff and disappeared from sight.

  The four of them stood and watched as the lizards vanished, praying that they would not return. Keri seemed to have frozen in place, still clutching her sword, eyes wide with terror. Braldt, knowing of her childhood fear of lizards and snakes and other such creatures, could only imagine how terrified she must have been. He squeezed her shoulder to comfort her, feeling his own heart beating hard within his chest. He suffered from no such fears, but the lizard things were unlike anything he had ever known before and he counted himself lucky to have escaped with nothing more than a bad fright.

  Strangely enough, Carn had nothing to say, nor had he made any attempt to attack the beasts even though he had stood second behind Batta Flor. His face was beaded with sweat and he was still staring at the charred spot where the lizard had fallen from the trail. When he looked up, he did not seem to recognize Braldt and his eyes were glazed and full of fear. It seemed for a moment that he was going to run, but then Braldt put his hand on his shoulder and the touch seemed to break the spell. Carn shot Braldt a look of panic that settled into the now-familiar hatred. And Braldt knew that Carn would find it hard to forget that his fear had been seen.

  “Hurry,” whispered Batta Flor, taking Keri by the arm and urging her forward. “Where there are three there will surely be more. We must get to a place of safety where we can defend ourselves for they will be upon us soon!”

  16

  “More of them?” Keri asked, her eyes growing large in her pale face. “But what will we do?”

  “Come,” Batta Flor said persuasively, “let us get off this ledge and find a more sheltered spot and I will tell you about them. Please.”

  Keri looked about nervously, as if she expected the lizards to return at any moment, and even Braldt found himself resisting an urge to do the same. Carn was definitely spooked and, taking Keri’s arm, hurried her forward, nearly pushing her in his haste to be gone. Keri looked back as though intending to upbraid him, but one look at his face convinced her to hold her tongue.

  They found what they sought a short time later, a wide place in the trail where the mountain folded in upon itself, with a small bit of grassy ground lying between. The sun was shining full on the rock walls, and protected from the bite of the wind, it offered them a safe respite. Gladly they shrugged the heavy packs from their shoulders and sank down on the warm grass.

  Only Batta Flor remained alert, prowling the perimeter of the enclosure, scanning the rocky walls carefully. Apparently he did not find what he sought and this seemed to please him, for only when his inspection was finished, did he join the others.

  “What were those things?” demanded Carn.

  “You said there would be more,” Keri added, her statement sounding more like a question.

  “Yes, many more,” Batta Flor said with a sigh, “although I did not think to meet them so soon. We were lucky to have escaped without harm. My people call them shadows because they have the ability to change color at will, blending in with their surroundings so that they are nearly invisible. They are very dangerous and hard to kill. Their skin cannot be penetrated by any but the very sharpest of spears and their teeth and claws can easily kill an adult Madrelli.”

  “How can they be killed?” asked Braldt, more interested in knowing what would dispatch them than what would not.

  “There are not many ways to hurt them,” Batta Flor admitted reluctantly. “Fire is effective as is trickery for they are not very smart. Also speed, for as they do not think fast, it is sometimes possible to flee before they decide to follow.”

  “What do they eat?” asked Keri, beginning to regain a little of her color. “We’ve not seen another living creature on this mountain and there’s hardly any grass or foliage for them to graze.”

  “They are not interested in grasses or foliage,” Batta Flor replied with a grim smile. “They are meat eaters; they prey on the flesh of living beings. They climb the cliffs in search of nesting birds; they are very fond of eggs. But mostly they hunt the Madrelli, and when all else fails, each other.”

  Keri shivered and fell silent.

  “And you say that we will encounter more of them,” pondered Braldt. “Is there any way that we can avoid them?”

  “No,” said Batta Flor, “for our course will take us into the heart of their territory, inside the mountain itself.”

  His words were met with silence as Braldt, Keri, and Carn stared at him in disbelief. “In…inside the mountain?” said Keri as though hoping she had misunderstood him.

  “I think that it is time that you told us the whole story,” Braldt said grimly. “There is too much here that is unknown. If there are any more surprises such as these shadows, I would prefer to know before I encounter them.”

  For once Carn did not have anything disagreeable to add and placed his arm around his sister’s shoulders to lend her strength, for he too was well aware of her weakness. He and Braldt had often played upon those fears when they were children, putting insects and small, harmless snakes in her bed and making frightening sounds in the middle of the night, but this was a time for strength and courage, not fears, and even Carn had the sense to realize it.

  “This mountain,” began Batta Flor, “as well as many of the smaller peaks you see, were formed during the birth of the world, or so the hard ones have said. Deep within the earth at the heart of the world is a great fire, hot enough to melt rock. I know that such a thing is hard to believe, but I have seen proof of it with my own eyes and so will you. When the fire burned very hot, sometimes, as with a pot atop a fire, it boiled over. Thus were our mountains formed, the hot rock inside the earth heaved upward and poured over the edges.

  “This happened many, many times, and each time the flow stopped and the rock cooled, the mountain grew taller and taller. But the boiling rock did not always follow the same course, sometimes the pressure was not so great and the flow did not rise to the top. Other times, the hardened rock above formed too hard a cap to penetrate and the flow found other points of escape.

  “As you have seen, the rock is brittle and porous.” Batta Flor drove the point of his dagger into the ground and dug out a chunk of the grey rock that he crumbled between his fingers to demonstrate his words.

  “So what does this have to do with us and the shadows?” demanded Carn.

  “What it means is that the mountain is honeycombed with tunnels and passageways, the hollow tubes formed by the flow of molten rock that remained and hardened in place after each eruption. These passageways are now home to the shadows and many other such creatures; they are also the only way that remains to approach the flooded chamber.

  “Here, I will show you.” Batta Flor scraped the ground before them smooth with the edge of his hand, then drew the outline of the mountain. “Here, at the base, is the entrance to the chamber, where the river now flows. The river has its source here at the. peak,” and as he spoke, Batta Flor drew a circle on the top of the mountain.

  “How can there be a river at the top of a mountain?” Carn asked in obvious disbelief.

  “At some point in the past, during more violent times, the entire peak disappeared, destroyed in some eruption, I would imagine. Since that time, the hollow that remained has filled with rainwater and the runoff from the yearly melting of the snows that accumulate on Rouen Dor, its sister peak. We have long suspected that there is an underground river that flows through the mountain as well. All o
f these waters find their way down through the inner passages and it was their power that turned the huge machines that extracted the rhodium from the water for the masters.”

  “Please explain about these machines,” said Braldt as he studied the drawing. “And tell us what you did to disrupt the flow of the water.”

  “It was simple, really,” said Batta Flor. “Everything was controlled from the chamber, everything. We waited for the end of suntime, when the flow of water was lowest, when the snow was all but gone from the peaks. There was only one of us Madrelli on duty, one called Rutha Shan, and he was one who most believed in what we were attempting; we could not have done it without him.” Batta Flor’s voice sank to a whisper and he regarded the ground in silence. After a time he regained his composure and continued.

  “There were many hard ones as usual, monitoring the machines and the gauges, weighing the rhodium and overseeing its packing. Rutha Shan let us into the control room. At first the hard ones did not seem alarmed, but then as we began shutting down the machines one after the other, they realized what we were doing and tried to stop us.”

  “What did they do? Are they good with swords?” asked Carn.

  “The hard ones?” Batta Flor smiled at the thought. “No, they have no knowledge of weapons, they are but machines themselves. They sought to bring us under control by means of touch. There is a plate embedded in their hand with which they maintain contact with the masters. This plate, in fact any part of their hand, is able to deliver a paralyzing blow that is capable of killing. It stops the heart with a single touch. Even the slightest touch can bring a full-grown Madrelli to his knees. We knew this and were on our guard and still they managed to kill more than half of us, Rutha Shan included, before Arba Mintch opened the flood gates.”

  “I do not understand,” said Braldt.

  “The control room monitored the flow of water,” explained Batta Flor. “Here, in the passage outside of the control room, the water descended from above. The machines could only take so much pressure; if it was exceeded, they would turn too fast and destroy themselves. We did not want such a thing to happen for we thought that we might use the machines as a bargaining chip, a way of dealing with the masters. If the machines were destroyed, we had nothing to bargain with.

  “But Arba Mintch realized that the hard ones would win out, they had already killed more than half of us and had succeeded in sending out an alarm to those others who were in their quarters. He knew that if they joined the fight, our efforts would be doomed and we would never get another chance to win our freedom. He did the only thing left, he opened the flood gates that allowed the water to flow as fast as it wished. Even at the peak of suntime, the flow was too great for the machines and they drove themselves into a tangle of twisted metal. The hard ones were upon us by then and all around me, Madrelli, friends and loved ones, were dying. Arba Mintch and I were the only ones left and the hard ones were closing in on us.

  “Arba Mintch told me to run, to grab onto the ladder that led to the access tunnel above the control chamber. He told me it was our only chance. I thought that he was behind me, I did not realize until it was too late…”

  “He stayed behind,” said Keri, guessing what was to come.

  “He stayed behind,” Batta Flor said, still looking at the ground. “I leaped onto the ladder and it was only when I reached the top and looked back that I realized that he was not with me. He had returned to the controls and was smashing them to pieces. The hard ones were all around him and he was beating them off as well. Only when I had reached the top of the ladder and called his name did he reach for that last lever, the one that controlled the flow of water through the flood gates, that channel that ran through the control room itself and was only used to avert disaster.

  “He smiled at me then, a smile that I will take to my death, and he pulled the lever all the way down. The hard ones were on him then, for they knew as well as I that it would spell their death, if machines can be said to die. A number of them reached him, I know, for I saw the sparks shoot from their hands into his body. I believe that he was dead before the water rose. But even in death he did not release his grip on the lever and the waters rose swiftly, the color of blood, covering Arba Mintch and the hard ones and the machines, stilling their noise until there was nothing left to see but the rising water lapping at my heels.

  “I left then, finding my way out through the labyrinth of passages in utter darkness. I have no idea how I did so, nor do I know if I can repeat the journey, for the water accompanied me as I went and there were many times when I did not believe that I would survive. I have never been so frightened in all my life. If there are gods such as you two-foots believe, they must have been with me that night.

  “I knew that we had succeeded when I emerged from the side of the mountain and saw that the borealis was gone from the sky, those flickering lights that had masked the night skies and hidden their true beauty for longer than any of us had lived.”

  “The God Lights,” Keri said sadly, wrapping her arms around Beast and hugging him tight. Beast flattened his ears against his skull and looked at her through slitted eyes but made no attempt to bite her, much to Braldt’s surprise. “I cannot believe that they were as you say. I wish it were not true. They were so very beautiful and it was good to think that the gods had given them to us as a sign of their love.”

  “It was exactly what the masters wanted you to believe,” Batta Flor said bitterly. “Listen to yourself, doesn’t it make you angry to think that you have been fooled, betrayed, used by another? Tell me, would you have dared to enter these grounds, dared to visit these God Lights as you call them, this symbol of your gods’ love, had you not been ordered to do so by your priests?”

  “No, of course not, it was forbidden!” replied Keri, stung by the Madrelli’s words.

  “Why was it forbidden if it was a sign of their love?” asked Batta Flor, his voice quivering with barely suppressed anger.

  “Well, parents forbid you many things that they know will hurt you, especially if it’s for your own good! You don’t know everything! How do we know it’s like you say?”

  “It wasn’t for your own good, you fool, it was for their own good that you were forbidden to enter these lands. How long could they have controlled you if you had discovered their secrets? How long would they have been able to rape and plunder your planet if you knew what they were doing? Would you consent to being blown up so that they might extract the very last bit of their precious metal? And as to proof, well, you shall see for yourself that I have spoken the truth. If there is a way to reach that chamber, I will take you there, and then you will see that it is as I have said.”

  “How do we go?” asked Braldt, speaking quickly to cut off the words that rose to Keri’s and Carn’s lips, for he knew that they would not take kindly to the Madrelli’s words.

  “I do not know that I can find the passage from which I escaped,” said Batta Flor, turning his attention to Braldt. “But I do not think that it matters, one passage is as good a choice as another. They all look the same from outside and have equal chances of ending somewhere near the chamber.”

  “I do not like this,” said Carn as he fingered his sword and glared at the Madrelli. “How do we know it’s not a trap? He can lure us inside the mountain and then kill us off one at a time.”

  There was some degree of truth to Carn’s words but Keri answered before Braldt. “Don’t be stupid, Carn. We asked him to take us here. Can’t you see that he likes it no more than we do?” It appeared to be so for Batta Flor looked extremely uneasy at the thought of entering the mountain.

  “How do we guard against these shadows and against the danger of becoming lost in these passageways?” asked Braldt, anxious to keep his companions busy with real problems rather than dwelling on their dislike for one another.

  Batta Flor appeared grateful for the question. Reaching into his pack, he withdrew a handful of sticks, none longer than the length of an arm, as wel
l as a large clump of yellow chalk.

  “Uba Mintch prepared these for us himself. They are branches from the Yuba tree that burn steadily but slowly. They will light our way down to the chamber and, if we are lucky, light our return. This chalk glows in darkness and can be used to mark our passage so that we do not become confused. The fire should keep the shadows away, although with shadows it is hard to know. They are not always predictable.”

  “Where do we go?” asked Keri, looking around her as though she expected to see a passage open before her.

  “The nearest of the openings is yet some distance above us, we must climb farther to reach it. I would like to do so before darkness falls. Can you go on?”

  “Of course,” said Keri as she rose to her feet, for despite the Madrelli’s kindness, she did not wish to give Braldt or carn the satisfaction of thinking her too frail, too girllike, to continue. She was determined to hold her own.

  “Good,” said Batta Flor, reluctant approval for this female two-foot clearly visible in his eyes as he handed her a torch. Their fingers touched and they smiled at each other, for each of them knew that their fears were shared and understood. It was a silent bond between them.

  Once more they began their ascent of the mountain, and now that they knew what they were looking for, it was easy to see places where the hot rock had flowed, bleeding out the side of the mountain. The sites of the flows were clearly marked by spills of the smooth, glassy rock identical to the plateau where Keri and carn had nearly gone to their deaths. In most instances the rock was shiny black in color, darker than any night sky. But in other places, the smooth flows were red as blood and sometimes streaked with white or yellow.

  Some of the flows emerged from openings in the mountain and others were closed by the stony cascades. But in every instance where entry was possible, Batta Flor deemed it unacceptable for one reason or another. They found what they sought, shortly before night fell, Sun the Giver, an immense crimson ball, immersing himself behind the dark peaks, slowly, reluctantly, as though unwilling to plunge them into darkness. His bright rays fingered the dark opening of the cavern mouth, staining it like blood without lifting the darkness that lay beyond as they lit their torches.

 

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