Laura Monster Crusher

by Wesley King

  I had a million more questions for the frail old man, but I sensed he wasn’t going to answer any more. I was still tempted to get back on the elevator, but could I really just ignore this now? There was an entire world in my closet, and I figured I might as well get some answers before I risked my life on that rickety, old wooden elevator. I certainly wasn’t coming back down ever again, not on that death trap.

  “Okay,” I murmured, and then I started down the pathway.

  I looked around numbly as I went, trying to figure out if I was dreaming. The cavern, if you could call it that, was almost endless, rolling with lush green hills and tranquil woods and babbling streams cutting through the landscape like ribbons. The air was warm but comfortable, and almost unnaturally still, as there was no wind underground. It was the strangest and most beautiful place I’d ever seen, made all the more so by the glittering white castle that looked like a stalagmite of pure ice in the distance. I saw a few lizards perched atop rocks, as if sunning themselves—all with big, glassy eyes and dark skin. Multicoloured birds flitted around overhead, perhaps nesting way up on the cavern ceiling, which loomed over everything like a great canopy of storm clouds. The whole scene was earth-like but distorted: the lush meadows pockmarked with stone outcroppings, the forests with purple leaves mixed in the greenery, and the sky that ended in hard stone.

  Soon the squat houses I had seen before appeared around me, perched in the grass like cute little toadstools. Most were built of grey stone slung into place with mortar, though their roofs alternated between planks of wood or straw or even looser brush tied into bundles and laid over the stones. I wasn’t even sure what you would need a roof for, considering the ceiling that covered the entire realm surely didn’t allow rain, but what did I know? I also wasn’t sure why people were living in a hole in the earth, so it was all relative.

  It wasn’t long before people started noticing me too. Villagers poked curiously out of open windows or peered at me from tilled wheat fields, while small children stopped playing to stare and whispered amongst themselves. I awkwardly waved at a couple of little girls in dresses and they ran away. I felt like the Closet Monster again—I could picture my aunt laughing at the irony that I had literally emerged from the closet.

  The houses grew closer and closer together, and the pathway soon turned to dirty white cobblestone as the scattered farmhouses became a bustling village. Now there were people everywhere: they looked normal enough, though a bit behind the times. The women wore coarse brown dresses and hide boots, and they all stared at me and whispered. There were only a few men, who wore the same kind of woollen peasant clothing, and many had thick beards and thicker arms. Some of them just laughed when they saw me, which would have been insulting except that I’m sure I did look pretty ridiculous with my pink-and-white striped socks, red pyjama pants, and blue hoodie.

  I did notice one peculiar thing about the people of Derwin: many of them had weapons. In fact, almost all of them did. Swords and knives were sheathed at their waists, and some even had broadaxes slung on their backs, the metal blades banged up and worn. Others wore necklaces with fangs on the end, and I’m pretty sure one of them had a yellow eyeball on a chain, which almost made me vomit right there in the street.

  Arnwell Castle was growing larger ahead of me, and I saw now that it was bordered by tall walls and parapets, though the arched gate was open. It sat on a small hill overlooking the lake, which bordered the edge of the town and stretched out a long way in the distance. I was again struck by how incredibly clear the water looked…it was as still as glass and marked only by some old boats lazily fishing off the rocky coast. The entire village looked like one of those cheesy postcards your grandma sends you, minus the strange abundance of weaponry and the fact that this particular village was deep underground. Which were fairly important points, I guess.

  Finally reaching Arnwell’s gate, which was almost seven feet high, I stopped and looked through the opening into a huge courtyard. It was completely packed with…boys. The white stone walls bordered three sides of the courtyard, while the castle itself took up the fourth, looking over everything like a watchful teacher, proud and silent.

  The courtyard was built of the same white cobblestone as the castle, but it was scuffed and worn and stained in places with a dark liquid that might have been blood. It was also filled with the strangest array of things I have ever seen. There were crude wooden rings for sparring, logs to jump over, ropes to swing on, massive carts to push, and weapons everywhere. But that wasn’t even close to the weirdest part.

  Scattered in between all those items were fake creatures stuffed with straw. They were stitched together with what looked like thick leather, and all of them were scarred with rips and tears and gashes. Straw was poking out of the wounds like gushing blood. I saw one that looked like a troll, another a goblin, and some larger ones that looked like dragons and ogres. Little stuffed creatures with wood-framed wings were scattered everywhere, and there was even a huge fake spider that did not make me happy at all. I eyed the creatures, standing there uneasily as the young men slammed axes into the creatures’ heads and fired black-feathered arrows into wings.

  I noticed now that while many of the assembled warriors were wearing brown peasant clothes and long hooded cloaks, many others were wearing jeans or track pants and tight-fitting T-shirts, revealing muscular arms. All of the latter were boys, though I did start to notice a few girls amongst the hooded warriors. Now I was really confused.

  Who were these people, and why were they attacking monster scarecrows? I tried to step against the wall to avoid being seen, but I was too late.

  A tall boy with curly black hair and a strong jaw spotted me first, standing up straight and letting his massive battle-axe rest on his shoulder. He was wearing a Star Trek T-shirt, which would have been awesome if he wasn’t holding that axe.

  He nudged the boy next to him, and one by one, the word seemed to filter through the crowd, and the fighting stopped. I would have assumed that would have been replaced by talking or gossip or something, but no. They all just kind of looked at me, eyebrows raised in confusion or doubt or who knows what. I wanted to run away, but that probably wouldn’t help my first impression. So I kind of just stood there, smiling like I had walked into someone else’s party and was now going to slowly let myself out again.

  I never got the chance.

  The crowd suddenly parted, and a tall man with a long cloak swept through it like a stalking predator, his hood draped over his strong shoulders. I immediately knew it was the man from the woods behind my house, because there was no mistaking those eyes. They were as bright and clear as the lake, and they made the hair on my arms stand up when they fell on me. He was really cute for an older guy but grim; a white scar ran from his forehead to his chin, passing right through one of those icy blue eyes. He was grizzled with stubble, and his dark hair fell right to his shoulders, framing proud cheekbones. Without even asking, I knew this must be Eldon. I stood there rooted to the spot as he stopped in front of me, his eyes passing once over me and then resting on mine.

  “It’s as I feared,” he said quietly. “The spell is broken.”

  Chapter Seven

  I waited for him to say something else, but he just stood there for a very long moment, looking at me like I was a bug. The gathered warriors around him still weren’t speaking, though some exchanged meaningful looks, their expressions dark. I shifted uneasily, and then decided to break the silence.

  “Do you mind explaining who you people are?” I asked, trying to sound braver than I felt. I tucked my hands in my pockets to hide the trembling, but my knees were shaking even worse than my hands. I really hoped they didn’t give out.

  Eldon just stared at me, obviously trying to decide what to do. I suspected he had half a mind to shut the heavy iron gate and tell me to go home, but clearly something was stopping him. Finally, he spoke.

  “These,” he said, gesturing around him, “are the Monster Crushers. Well, s
ome of them are. The rest are their guardians, or as we call them, their Swords.”

  I looked at him with what I’m sure was a blank expression. “The Monster what?”

  “Monster Crushers,” he repeated quietly, “the warriors that protect this planet from the horrors beneath their feet. They are chosen from across the surface world by a spell as old as the homes they live in—a spell that until this day has chosen warriors capable of bearing the Iron Hammers and defending the earth from monsters.” His blue eyes narrowed. “And those Monster Crushers have just been dealt a very dangerous blow.”

  “Because of me?” I whispered.

  “Yes,” he replied coolly. “Because of you. The Monster Crushers do not choose their members. We are bound by law to let the houses choose, as the spell is supposed to only allow those worthy to find the secret doors and enter Derwin. And because of this same law, we now have no choice but to train you as a Monster Crusher.”

  I laughed. I didn’t mean to, but it just kind of came out. Surely he was joking. There was no way I was going to live down here and hit fake monsters with swords, just as I was sure there was no way they’d want me to. I looked around, shaking my head. Almost all of the boys looked like they were captains of the football team: square jaws, defined muscles, stern looks. I looked like an absent-minded grandma who had just wandered out of the house in her pyjamas. Except I was also thirteen, which I’m pretty sure was younger than anyone else in that courtyard.

  Eldon didn’t laugh. No one did. In fact, they just looked angry.

  “You can’t be serious,” I said, turning back to Eldon.

  “I am. Like it or not, the spell has chosen. Even if I believe it has finally been broken, I cannot make that decision myself. That’s up to the Brotherhood. And so I will train you, girl, to the best of my abilities. And then I suspect you will die, and we will all have to live with the consequences of what happens after that. What is your name?”

  “Laura Ledwick,” I whispered.

  Eldon nodded. “Very well, Laura Ledwick. Come with me.”

  He turned and strode back toward the gleaming white castle, and I just stood there, looking around incredulously. Was he serious? There was no way he was serious.

  Eldon stopped and turned around, his eyes narrowed. “Now.”

  I hesitated, and then very reluctantly followed him, trying to ignore the disbelieving stares as I shuffled through the courtyard.

  —

  “Are those like…accurate?” I murmured.

  I was staring up at the elaborate murals that covered the great hall of Arnwell Castle, which was a massive, domed room dominated by a beautiful marble floor and a ring of golden statues of what I could only guess were past Monster Crushers. Every one of them was a man: tall, strong, and proud. Their cold eyes watched me from all sides.

  But the statues were the least of my concern. The murals on the wall depicted actual battles between the Monster Crushers and their foes: grotesque trolls with mossy-green skin, yellow orbs for eyes, and shocks of black hair swung stone clubs at brave young men with iron hammers and gleaming steel armour. Dragons flew above the scenes, while hordes of goblins swept like a green tide toward the Monster Crushers and the hooded Swords that stood beside them.

  “More or less,” Eldon said, finally turning to face me.

  He had led me straight to the great hall from the courtyard, his steps echoing around the massive room as he stalked into the middle.

  “You must have questions,” he continued, watching me closely.

  I snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

  “Let me give you the brief version. And then we can discuss your training.”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but he ignored me and went on.

  “When humans first appeared on this planet, somewhere in the northeastern heart of Africa, they went many ways. North to Europe, east to Asia, south to the tip of the continent. Those you know. But humans went one other way. Down.”

  He suddenly turned and started walking again, and I hurried to keep up.

  “Early humans always gravitated to caves, as you know, but some decided to go deeper. They went deep enough that they discovered places like this…places where the world reset again and where water pooled into lakes and even tiny patches of vegetation grew in the dim sunlight that filtered through the cracks.”

  He gestured to a painting at the far side of the hall, where some early humans were walking with a torch through the darkness.

  “It was a difficult road to take, but they had an advantage. No predators, no competition, and from very early on…magic.”

  He stopped in front of another line of statues: hooded men with serious eyes and scraggly beards. They looked like wizards.

  “The ground beneath them hummed with magic…it was hidden down here in the darkness. They began to find new ways to create light with alchemy and spells, real light that could grow crops and scare away the shadows of the Under Earth.”

  He clasped his hands behind his back, looking thoughtfully at the statues.

  “Ten of these great openings in the Under Earth were found—the foundation for the ten realms, of which Derwin is the smallest. For centuries, the ten realms grew in peace. The people of the Under Earth wanted no part of the endless wars on the surface; instead they worked together to build the most complicated series of tunnels ever devised by man. Any tunnels created by surface humans are but a pinprick of what they created. Most thought we would long outlast the surface humans here. We could journey up to take seeds and livestock and building techniques, and continue living down below. In fact, the surface humans forgot we were here. We were ignored. And that’s how we liked it. Thousands of years ago, we decided to keep it that way.”

  I frowned, scanning the murals. “So what happened?”

  “We realized we were not alone,” Eldon said quietly, following my gaze.

  A little ways down, there was a disturbing picture. Yellow eyes flashed from the darkness, just like the ones I had seen in the forest behind my house. Slit-like pupils, like a snake, watched from the shadows. I felt my skin crawl as I realized the implications.

  There were monsters behind my house.

  “One day our tunnels merged with one the humans had not made. A crude tunnel reeking of rotting meat and death. The diggers followed it, and they soon realized there were other realms even farther beneath the earth. And there were not humans there.”

  I followed the murals and saw the monsters emerging from the darkness, their eyes flashing like candles.

  “There are many types of monsters,” Eldon explained. “Some as wild as animals, most as evil and insidious as the worst of humans. I do not know which side was more to blame: we hunted them, and they hunted us. But we had no idea of the horrors we were unleashing. There were so many of them. They spread through the Under Earth, and many of our people were wiped out. Five of the ten realms were overrun by monster armies. Hundreds of thousands of our people were lost. The Brotherhood—an ancient order of wizards that oversees all people of the Under Earth—knew it was only a matter of time before they spread to the surface and claimed the entire earth as their own. The monsters’ realms were so deep they didn’t even know of the surface back then, but of course, our tunnels would lead them right to it. We had doomed the surface humans as well.”

  He turned to me, and his blue eyes flashed with pride as he spoke.

  “That was when the Brotherhood, led by Warlin the Wise, created a desperate defence against the monsters. He knew the people of the Under Earth could not do it alone; they needed reinforcements from the surface. They needed Monster Crushers.”

  We slowly walked along the mural, and I saw hooded men forging weapons while others built elevators and winding stone staircases to the surface. I saw one grim bearded man creating a secret door in a walk-in closet, and I wondered vaguely if it was mine.

  “There are fifty locations on the surface that we have tunnels to,” Eldon explained, “created th
roughout the centuries. In those places, fifty houses were built to shelter future warriors, each endowed with a powerful spell to select only worthy Monster Crushers. These warriors would find the entryways when the time was right and come to Arnwell Castle for training. The Brotherhood wanted surface humans for two reasons: they would defend the entryways to their homes with everything they had, and they also didn’t know enough about the monsters to truly fear them. Our children had lived entire lives in terror of the creatures, hearing stories from their wet nurses. But the surface humans could not possibly know what they would face until it was too late.”

  He stopped in front of a golden statue of a particularly tall boy with tousled hair and a massive hammer slung over his back, his biceps bulging where they emerged from a tunic. He looked like a male model or something.

  “And so those fifty young men became the first Monster Crushers. Each Monster Crusher received a group of Swords: five warriors chosen from both worlds to help them guard their tunnels and fight the wars of the Under Earth. They all trained here, and they fought and died bravely for hundreds of years after, and still do. Each is responsible for his own location, and no other. Monster Crushers cannot help another, nor can their Swords, for fear that they would leave their own tunnels unguarded. The Monster Crusher and his Swords must defend their tunnels, or doom the surface world.”

  Eldon turned to me.

  “Throughout all that history, only one location on the surface has ever had monsters leave the tunnels and kill civilians. That same town has been the centre of countless wars underground and has been the site of more battles than any in our long history. It is the focal point of the war, and today, it is the only place on earth where we know monsters are on the surface. Do you know what town that is?”

  “I have a guess,” I murmured.