by Rose Estes
“You could have left us there and returned to your people,” added Keri. “Why did you come after us, does the bad air not affect the Madrelli?”
“Madrelli die just as easily as Duroni if the air is bad. But to have left you would have been a thing without honor. It is not the Madrelli way.”
“It is not the Duroni way, either,” said Braldt, “despite what you have come to know of us. I’m afraid you and your people have seen only the worst of us. But from this day forward, you will be as a brother to us.”
“I accept the honor,” Batta Flor said gravely, then nodded at Carn’s still figure. “I assume that you are speaking for yourselves. This one will never welcome me as kin.”
“You saved his life too,” Keri said passionately. “Not even Carn can ignore such a thing!”
Batta Flor looked at Carn dubiously, doubting that the man would be pleased to find himself beholden to a Madrelli, but seeing Keri’s distress, he held his silence.
“Do…do you think he’ll be all right?” Keri asked tearfully. “He will not open his eyes and his heart is beating strangely; it flutters inside his chest like a trapped bird.”
“I cannot say,” replied Batta Flor. “My knowledge of such things is limited. But it would seem that when the torches flare and spit as they did, then we are entering an area of poisonous air. We should take careful note of this if it happens again.”
“Do you think that we can circle the lake?” Braldt stared at the far shore, wondering what dangers awaited them there.
“It is our only hope. If such a thing is not possible, then we must abandon this mission and return. Perhaps we have already risked enough, my friend. We are all of us sick and this one is gravely ill and may die without attention. We have tried our best, there will be no dishonor in admitting failure. Let us return to the world of light.”
Keri and Braldt looked at each other and then down at Carn’s still figure. Keri’s face was full of fear and her wishes were all too obvious. Braldt looked into her face and then uttered a single word, “Auslic,” and she lowered her eyes and nodded although her face reflected her sorrow.
“We cannot return, my friend,” Braldt said quietly, “even though we might wish it. Our wishes account for little; there are matters of far greater importance at work here.”
“I only wish that our goals were alike,” Batta Flor said sadly. “Can you not see that if you succeed in your mission, it will be the death of all of us? The hard ones and the masters are not benevolent beings. They care for us only so long as we serve their needs. The Madrelli have dared to disobey them. They will crush us and return us to our former slavery. I can only guess what they will do to you.”
“Why would they do anything to us? We have not hurt them in any way,” said Keri.
“Why can you not see,” Batta Flor said in exasperation. “They have gone to great lengths to conceal their presence from you. Their very existence has been cloaked with mystery and mysticism to prevent you from learning about them. Mother Moon, the God Fires, the Forbidden Lands, and all the various myths and legends that abound, all created with but one purpose in mind, to keep themselves a secret. Now they need you to unravel the damage we have done, reverse the process so that they may land once again. Once that is done, your knowledge of their existence will not be tolerated. You will be eliminated!”
“Eliminated?” Keri said in a whisper.
“Killed. Made dead. Without life,” Batta Flor said flatly. “They cannot risk allowing you to live, to return to the tribe to report what you have seen.”
“But that would mean that you suspect some sort of communication between these hard ones and their masters and someone in our tribe,” Braldt said slowly. “For how else would they have known what was needed.”
“Now, at last, you begin to see,” cried Batta Flor.
“How could that be!” asked Keri. “No one in the tribe would do such a thing. What would be the purpose?”
“I cannot tell you what the reason is,” replied Batta Flor. “But it must be so. How else would these priests of yours know about the chamber?”
“The priests! You think that the priests…!” Keri was aghast at the very thought.
“Yes, it must be so,” Braldt said slowly. “Think, Keri! Think about what he is saying. It was the priests who told us to go.”
“No, Braldt, it was…!” argued Keri.
“We are still doing the priest’s bidding,” said Braldt, brushing aside Keri’s words. “It was their idea that we come. It was they who put the picture of the chamber in our heads, told us what to do. The priests must be in league with these hard ones and the masters. It’s all some kind of game and we have served as their pawns for years.” Braldt’s tone was bitter as he contemplated the fact of the priests’ duplicity.
“You cannot think that this is so!” cried Keri. “Mother Moon would not let…”
“Mother Moon is nothing but a dead rock, just as the Madrelli have said all along,” Braldt interrupted harshly. “What better way to keep us in line than to wrap us up in a religion crafted to meet their needs. They have been very clever, these masters. But surely they did not plan for their slaves and their loyal pawns to piece the puzzle together. But it has now happened and we will have a chance at determining our own future. Now, we will make our own decisions.”
Batta Flor was astonished at the two-foot’s massive leap in deduction, his ability to understand and believe that which literally spelled the destruction of his religion as well as his way of life. But there was still another matter to be considered. One far more important than personal feelings.
“Then you agree that the lever must not be thrown. If we can somehow enter the chamber and retrieve this metal box, which you believe will save the life of your chief, there is no need to pull the lever as well.”
“We will have to think on this matter and discuss it further,” said Braldt. “At a later time,” holding up his hand as Batta Flor opened his mouth to speak. “You have given me more than enough to think on for one day. You have my word that we will discuss this again.” And even Batta Flor could see that Braldt could be pushed no further.
Keri was sitting wide-eyed and pale before the fire, clutching a gourd of the hot drink to her chest with unfeeling fingers. Batta Flor could feel her pain and knew that in destroying her religion, he had dealt her a cruel blow as well. But he also knew that there were no words that he could offer that would comfort her.
They made no effort to move and spent the remainder of that day and night resting at the edge of the dark shore, exploring the dangerous and disturbing new thoughts. As though by mutual agreement, there was no further talk on any but the most general of topics.
Batta Flor repacked their pouches more efficiently and treated their various wounds. Even Beast allowed him to change the dressing on his feet with no more than a token growl.
Keri tended to Carn who appeared to have fallen into a more natural sleep. She prepared their meals mechanically, without thought.
Braldt scouted along the edge of the lake and reported that it appeared possible to circumvent the entire lake in safety. What he did not report was that it appeared to be a trail that was well used and well maintained… and not by lizards.
Carn wakened on the following morning with a ravenous hunger and a terrible headache. He took in his surroundings with surprise and ate his meal with downcast eyes, pausing only briefly when told of Batta Flor’s role in their heroic rescue.
Much to Batta Flor’s surprise, Carn wiped his hands on his robe and extended his hand in the curious two-foot manner of greeting. Batta Flor took the proffered hand and held it, not knowing what was expected of him. Carn smiled and raised and lowered his hand twice.
“Look, I know what you think of me. And you’re right. I’ve acted badly. But I am not so stupid as to not know the value of my own life. I would not have attempted to rescue you, had you fallen instead of me. I have been wrong.”
Total silence followed
Carn’s words as the others stared at him in disbelief. It was the Madrelli who recovered first. “It would please me greatly to call you friend.” Reaching out, he offered Carn his hand and when it was grasped, awkwardly raised and lowered it several times, Duroni fashion, in some manner sealing the words. Everyone smiled at everyone else and for the first time since they had been thrown into one another’s company, they felt a fragile semblance of unity and friendship.
Carn, it appeared, had suffered no lasting effects from breathing the bad air, and proclaimed himself willing and ready to travel. He seemed to have attained a greater sense of teamwork as well as humility during his loss of consciousness and listened to Braldt and Batta Flor outline the plan to circle the lake without a comment. Braldt and Batta Flor exchanged astonished glances as Carn struggled into his backpack, then shared grins at the unexpected scope of their luck. “Perhaps we should find a way to keep some of that bad air,” murmured Batta Flor. “Just in case he reverts.”
It was decided that they would circle along the left-hand side of the lake for that was the side closest to the outer world. It could do them no good, nor did there appear to be any cracks in the walls such as they had seen in the deep tunnel, but still the thought that only a thickness of rock separated them from the world they knew, a world of sunshine and free-flowing wind, comforted them in this black of stifling darkness.
Once more Beast took the lead, prancing along on his leather-shod paws as though it were merely some pleasurable afternoon jaunt. The trail was wide enough for two people to travel side by side and was flat, smooth, and free of broken rock. Braldt could only wonder at the fact that none of the others seemed to notice that it had not been created by a flow of molten rock as had the tunnels, but had been chiseled and worked by clever hands. Surely Batta Flor would notice, but no, the Madrelli appeared to be unaware of the difference even though he had dropped to all fours and was loping along at a comfortable pace, something he rarely did in the sight of the Duroni as though he feared that traveling in such a manner might somehow make him more animallike in their eyes.
Braldt studied the powerful build of the Madrelli and marveled at the strength contained in that body. Had it not been for the Madrelli, they would all be dead now.
Allowing Beast and Batta Flor to take the lead, Braldt allowed his thoughts to wander, wondering what they would do when and if they were able to reach the chamber. Could it be true, all that Batta Flor had told them? Braldt had never been much of a believer and while he had bent his knee to the Moon Mother a part of him had always remained apart. But now, to learn that all of it was a hoax perpetrated by beings from another world… it was hard, even for him.
Braldt began to wonder what else might not be true, what else they had always taken for granted that might not be as it had seemed. It was a disconcerting thought. Why did Batta Flor stare at him so when he thought that Braldt was not looking? He would have had to have been blind not to have noticed the way that many of the Madrelli reacted to him, staring at him as though they had seen some nightmare appear in the waking world. And then, after they had gotten over the first shock, they seemed to study him, to watch him as though expecting him to do or say something, he knew not what. And yet he knew without asking that they would have denied it had he confronted them.
Occupied with his own thoughts, Braldt did not at first notice that the others had come to a halt and were crouched at the edge of the trail, peering into the dark water.
“What’s the matter, is there a problem?”
Keri turned worried eyes upon him. “Batta Flor thinks that he saw something move in the water, something alive.”
“Couldn’t be,” Braldt replied. “That water’s too hot for anything to live. It’s just imagination.”
“Perhaps,” replied Batta Flor, his tone troubled as he stared down at the silent lake. “But I would have sworn that I saw something move. Look here, Braldt, this is no sign of an overactive imagination!”
Moving to his side, Braldt stared at the ledge where Batta Flor’s shaking finger pointed. There, from the very edge trailing down into the water was a silvery slick much like that which a land snail leaves behind to mark its progress.
“Look, look over here!” called Carn, his voice pitched high with excitement. He was on his hands and knees leaning out over the water at a place where the ledge had crumbled or broken away, leaving a small inlet. Carn turned toward them, holding something out on the palm of his hand. They rose to go to him and then, out of the dark gloom, a long, slender object rose up behind Carn and wavered for a moment as though hesitant. The three of them stood in shocked amazement, unable to speak or move. Then, even as the thing descended with lightning-fast speed, they began to scream and run toward Carn, drawing their swords and daggers. But it was already too late.
Even as Carn cocked his head to one side and peered at them in bewilderment, the thing was upon him. It was a coil, a living fleshy coil, although to what or whom it belonged was impossible to know. It wrapped itself around Carn, pinning his arms to his body, and then before he could react, or they could reach him, he was jerked off the ledge and dragged beneath the surface of the dark lake. Huge bubbles erupted and foamed on the surface as the waters heaved and lapped over the rocky trail. And then, slowly, the turbulence subsided and though the waters still rocked and a tiny trail of bubbles burst upward, there was nothing more to be seen.
Keri’s screams echoed off the stony walls as she clutched her head and called out her brother’s name again and again. Batta Flor and Braldt brandished their swords and strode back and forth on the narrow ledge searching the dark waters for a sign, a hint of the attacker. But there was nothing to be seen; the beast, whatever it was, had come and gone and taken Carn with it.
21
Scarcely had they left the beach behind when the dark water exploded in a flurry of white froth and rising high above the surface was a writhing welter of tentacles that darted down toward them with the speed of a striking snake. Keri cried out as the tip of a tentacle struck her a painful blow on the shoulder. She wrenched free even as the flexible tip coiled around her arm, tightening perceptibly in the instant it had her in its grip. Multitudes of fingerlike protrusions wriggled and reached toward her all along the grey-black length and she pressed herself against the wall, shrinking back from its reach.
Braldt and Batta Flor responded instantly, striking out with their swords, hacking at the thrashing coils that flailed the air on all sides. The flesh was hard and resisted the bite of the blades, causing them to rebound with an impact that shivered up through the muscles of their arms. Luck and desperation taught them swiftly that glancing blows were deflected, and that only direct, blade-on blows were able to penetrate the tough flesh. Again and again they struck at the creature, cursing when it grabbed hold of arms or legs or bits of their bodies and defending each other and Keri as well. Keri recovered quickly and, seizing the opportunity to avenge her brother’s death, attacked with a fury that even Braldt did not know that she possessed.
One, two, and then four and more of the limbs were severed from the body and fell into the water, still wriggling as though they had a separate life of their own until they sank beneath the turbulent water. The creature began to shriek then, a piercing, mind-numbing wail that all but drove them to their knees. Unable to bear the terrible sound, they pressed their hands against their ears, swords clattering to the ledge or drooping from nerveless fingers.
Fortunately, the beast was suffering torments of its own and could not take advantage of their helpless state. Two heads were clearly visible, snakelike with fleshy protuberances like those of land snails bobbing from the front of a formless, bloblike head. Both mouths were stretched wide, emitting the terrible noise as the heads to which they belonged hurled themselves back and forth and side to side, keening with pain. Suddenly one of the heads uttered a terrible cry of rage and lunged forward, mouth agape, straight for Keri. The jaws closed around her body, engulfing her from shoulder to kn
ee, and then jerked her roughly from the ledge.
Keri screamed and twisted within the creature’s grip, attempting to free herself. Still holding her short sword, she began stabbing at the beast’s mouth, penetrating the upper palate with her blade. The beast bellowed with pain and outrage, never for a moment releasing its grip on her body, but shifting her about in its mouth as though trying to find a hold that would not hurt quite so much.
Braldt seized the opportunity, the only one he would have, and jumped onto the creature’s head, wrapping his legs around its neck and holding on to one of the fleshy antennae. Surprisingly, the beast was covered in a layer of slime that made it all the more difficult for Braldt to keep his hold. The creature did not seem to notice that Braldt had climbed upon its body, perhaps distracted by its pain and the difficulty of holding on to its prickly prey.
Viewed from such close proximity, Braldt was able to see that the thing was covered with lumpy, warty flesh, greyish black in color. Tiny openings located atop each lump secreted a constant ooze of mucus that Braldt suspected protected it in some way from the heat of the water. There were two eyes, tiny and insignificant, buried deep in the warty flesh. Clamping the slippery antenna tightly between arm and forearm he leaned forward and slashed at the creature’s eyes, and was immediately rewarded by an agonized bellow of pain. The mouth opened wide, streaming blood, and Keri plunged into the water only to be seized by Batta Flor and dragged back onto the narrow ledge of rock.
Beast leaped up and down in a perfect frenzy of gnashing teeth and rolling eyes, threatening at any moment to fall into the water himself as he attempted to bite the monster. A tip of a tentacle thwacked the ledge next to him and he was on it in an instant, seizing it in his sharp teeth and ravaging it from side to side. Although not a serious threat, perhaps it served as a momentary distraction, which was good, for Braldt was hanging from the monster’s head, dangling from the slimy antenna, more than twenty feet above the water.
