Absence_Mist and Shadow

by J. B. Forsyth

  Kye didn’t like the sound of that. He thought about Della’s severed finger again and wondered what else her captors were capable of.

  ‘Tell Rauul to have his men ready,’ said Ormis and with that Suula vanished down the stairwell.

  Ormis pointed east. ‘See where the forest seems to rise,’ he said, tracing a north south line with his finger. ‘We call it the Step, though there’s no actual elevation of land. It’s an illusion caused by a sudden increase in the size of the trees. Beyond the Step the forest becomes a jungle that runs all the way to the ancient city of Joebel and the Abyss. East of the Step the land drinks deeper of the mist, magnifying its dangers. If Karkus continues on his present course, we must follow him there. Bear in mind what I’ve told you and be on your guard more than ever. Now come. We might catch up with your friend today.’

  He whirled from the balcony and started down the stairs. Kye took one last look over the Eastland and hurried after him.

  Riddle of the Roots

  They heard the gorge before they saw it; a faint rushing sound that grew to a watery rumble. A sound that held a welcome promise in the stifling heat of the forest. When at last they emerged from the trees they found Suula waiting on a patch of sun drenched rock. Beside her a huge tree bridge spanned a deep throat of fast flowing water. Its roots were enormous and Kye thought they looked like a nest of giant vipers, frozen in the act of striking. They gathered around her and looked across the gorge, scanning the curtain of jungle on the far side. When a turn of breeze delivered an appalling odour Ormis took a step forward and peered over the edge – expecting to see the rotting carcass of a large animal. But there was only a rage of white water and a scatter of jutting rocks.

  ‘The smell’s coming from the tree roots,’ said Suula, squatting to examine some marks in the dirt.

  But Ormis didn’t hear her. His focus remained fixed in the gorge. He was looking upriver to where the water fell over a series of falls and rapids, sending up clouds of vapour that graced the crossing.

  Familiar somehow…

  ‘They crossed here not more than two hours ago,’ Suula went on, pointing to a spot on the bank. ‘They rolled the tree, crossed on its underside then rolled it back again.’

  The Elite Guard looked at her with four different expressions of bewilderment.

  ‘Is that possible?’ Rauul said sceptically. ‘Look at the size of it.’

  Kring stepped up to the tree and crouched beneath a thick root. Then he straightened up, face reddening as he lifted it clear of the bank. Rauul smiled and the rest of the soldiers looked at each other in awe. He rocked it, turned it a few degrees then set it down again. ‘It’s heavy, but I imagine Karkus and Argol made light work of it… Only question is why?’

  ‘It might have been unstable,’ Rauul suggested.

  ‘Looks pretty solid to me,’ said Kail.

  They looked to Suula for insight, but she gave them another puzzle instead. ‘I’ve searched this side and I can’t find where it uprooted. And there’s no evidence it was dragged here.’

  Ormis was only vaguely aware of their voices. He was still looking up river and all he could hear was the roar of the water. Much the same as having a word on the tip of his tongue, he had a memory on the brink of recall. And all at once that strange barrier at the back of his mind started to thin and he saw a woman behind it. She was wearing a sky blue dress; finished with a lace trim that reminded him of clouds.

  He spun around and drew his sword, gripped by a sudden certainty that he was about to be thrown into the river. The soldiers were a second behind him, drawing their weapons and whirling to face the cause of his reaction. But they were alone on the bank and except for where the breeze caressed the high branches, the forest was still.

  After a couple of minutes Rauul backed up to him. ‘What is it?’

  Ormis stared through the trees, feeling young and terrified, his sword arm trembling as his body remembered something his mind didn’t. The soldiers fanned out and eyed him with concern. They were accustomed to his iron nerve and his current behaviour was well beyond his narrow repertoire.

  ‘It’s nothing. I just thought I heard something.’

  Rauul gestured to Dorian and Steith, sending them off in the direction his sword was pointing. They went in a low run, searching the tree line and dipping in and out. They returned a short time later and even before Steith shook his head Ormis knew there was nothing there. He had spun to a threat originating inside his head. The black barrier screening off his childhood had sprung a leak and a terrible memory had gushed through.

  When they were all gathered again Suula climbed the tree and crawled out on her hands and feet, sniffing at the bark. Half way across she stood and walked back. ‘The other end has no crown - just another root system.’ They stared across the gorge with their hands raised to shade their eyes, each of them seeing the truth of her words in their own time.

  ‘Well,’ said Rauul. ‘Whatever’s going on, it’s a fine place for an ambush.’ The soldiers nodded in agreement. It was what they were all thinking. ‘We could scout up and down. See if there’s another way over.’

  Kring grunted and waved at him dismissively. ‘There’s no time for that,’ he said, hauling himself onto the tree and starting over; prompting Kail to notch an arrow and level it at his back. He looked at Rauul who in turn looked at Ormis. Even after his help with the spiders the Elite guard didn’t trust him.

  Ormis’s head was still reeling and he was only distantly aware of what was happening. The strange fear had gone, but there was still an image of a woman in the back of his head. She was wearing a bonnet of the same colour and trim as her dress, but when he focused on her face that strange fear surged up again…

  There was something wrong with her eyes…

  ‘Ormis?... Ormis!’

  Rauul’s voice jerked him back to reality. He looked up and saw Kring walking over the tree bridge. He also saw Kail, waiting for his signal with a drawn arrow. It didn’t take him long to catch up. Kring had taken it upon himself to cross the bridge and the soldiers were suspecting foul play. Wherever he had gone for the last few minutes he was back now and he felt a familiar anger fluttering in his chest. The giant was playing his hand and the only thing that could stop him was an arrow in his back. His mind whirled and in the space of a few seconds he made a decision that nearly went the other way. He shook his head and Kail lowered his bow.

  Kring reached the far side and jumped down. He bent to examine the bank in a few places then disappeared into the jungle. Time slipped by and the sun bled heat into the gorge. When he finally emerged from the trees he was a little further to the north. He trudged back to the tree bridge and waved them across.

  ‘Could be a trap,’ said Rauul.

  Ormis had already considered the possibility and dismissed it. He had been watching Kring closely since he stepped into the road outside Irongate. Evidence of his brother’s crimes were hurting him. It was chiselled into his face and hanging on his posture in a way that was difficult to fake. And when the brothers came face to face again, he didn’t think it would result in a hurried alliance. Kring had much to say to Karkus and he suspected none of it was favourable. He had been out of sight long enough to have spoken with his brother, but he didn’t look fresh from a confrontation. Quite the opposite. He looked relaxed and as he waited for them he even tilted his head to take the sun on his face.

  He sent Suula across with a nod of his head. She ran over on tip toes; covering the trunk in a series of leathery kisses. If it was a trap Suula would sniff it out. And he spared no thought for her safety. Toruck’s didn’t use bows and had no chance of catching her. It would be like bulls trying to catch a cat. But the Elite Guard notched arrows anyway, ready to give covering fire if she needed it.

  She reached the other side and jumped down through the roots, landing in a puff of dust and sprinting into the jungle. Under a hot sun they waited again. The Elite Guard watched Kring over their sights and he did his be
st to show indifference, performing several elaborate stretches and even turning his back to their arrows.

  When Suula emerged from the shadows and signalled for them to cross the Elite Guard shouldered their bows. They revered Suula’s tracking skills and if she said it was safe to cross, it was safe to cross. Ormis gave the order and they climbed the roots and started over the tree bridge in single file. Six unwary visitors - chancing a crossing.

  A Burp and a Yawn

  Kye inched after Ormis. The tree was wet from rising vapour and the river roared through the gorge fifty feet below him. He was halfway across when the trunk softened beneath his boots.

  They all froze.

  It split along its length with a leathery creak, separating their feet. A monstrous burp rumbled through the tree and a breath of green fumes billowed out. It was infused with a concentrated dose of what they had smelt in the root system and it was like they had lifted a lid on a bucket of festering meat.

  ‘Everybody off!’ cried Rauul.

  They rushed for the far bank, but the crack widened. The bark lost all solidity and wrinkled back over wooden stakes – like chapped lips retracting over rotten teeth. And as they ran, their feet were forced wider, transforming their flight into a desperate disjointed waddle.

  The crack ratcheted open and Kye’s descending foot only just found the side, leaving him fighting for balance with his legs spread wide. He looked down and saw the true nature of the crossing under the full force of the sun. The tree was hollow and its inside lined with razor sharp spines. Filling its belly were the putrefied carcasses of several animals, all ensouped in a curdled green sludge. Huge black cow tongues rose from the slurry, straining to reach him. He had only a few seconds to appreciate the horror before the trunk jerked open and he fell inside.

  He splashed down into the vilest filth he had ever known, spewing rank liquid up the sides and disturbing partially digested solids in its deeper sediments. In the corner of his eye he saw the black tongues reaching for him, but his terrified mind refused to focus on them. He leapt up; acute revulsion setting him back on his feet as though he had landed on a hot plate. Fumes rose all around him, green slop slid down his back and dripped off his arms. The stench in the gutter was like a rotten arm reaching into his throat and wiping its putrid fingers on the wall of his stomach. He retched violently in response and the contents of his stomach erupted from him, adding a yellow streak to the green sludge. He grabbed the nearest tooth and pulled himself up, but a veined tongue coiled around his ankle and yanked him back down. It was too much force for the tooth he was standing on and it snapped, dropping him back into the belly of the tree with a thick splash.

  With a creak of tortured wood, the tree started to close.

  Kye sprang up, kicking at the throbbing tongue that manacled his ankle. He was distantly aware of the others fighting their own battles either side of him: climbing, retching and gasping - slopping around in the foul sludge. The air was like acid now and his eyes watered profusely, blurring his vision. His heart raced and his panicked breaths drew the rank miasma deeper into his lungs. He began to feel detached, light headed and weak. There was something in the fumes; some poison to sedate and paralyse him. A few more lungfuls and he would succumb - ending his days as another putrefying lump in the tree’s foul sediments. The trunk continued to close, darkness displacing the sky and reducing it to a narrow strip above him. He saw the snapped tooth floating on the sludge and snatched it up, stabbing repeatedly at the tongue. He inflicted several puncture wounds that sprayed him with black blood and it released him; coiling and thrashing as it disappeared into the sludge.

  Ormis appeared in the space between the closing bark and reached down. They clasped arms and the exorcist hauled him up and began pulling him along the top. But they didn’t get very far. The roots on the far bank had come to life and were striking at Kring and Suula like the nest of vipers Kye had imagined them to be. The little tracker stood out of reach, but Kring was moving amongst them, huge broadswords flashing in the sun as he lopped them off.

  The tree was almost closed when a cry from behind turned Kye around. Steith was sat in the gutter, waist deep in sludge. There was a tongue around his left arm and another around his right leg, fixing him in place. He was twisting desperately as the teeth closed on him, contorting his body to escape their pointed tips. Kye went to help him, but Ormis pulled him back.

  ‘Leave him. It’s too late!’

  Steith set his jaw stoically, but as a crooked tooth slow punctured his gut, he released a scream that split the air and echoed along the length of the closing trunk. Kye looked away as another tooth skewered his eye and finished him for good. Ormis yanked him on and they made a final dash for the far side.

  But the tree wasn’t finished with them yet.

  It was fully awake now; its first opening nothing more than a yawn. It snapped open again, throwing Ormis into the gorge and dropping Kye back inside. This time he fell onto a rancid carcass, bones snapping beneath him and slurry splashing over his face. He was on his feet in an instant, fearing to be grasped by another tongue. But those closest to him were trapped under the carcass and they communicated their desire for him by making ravenous currents in the sludge. He started to climb as the tree closed again, but snagged his tunic on a tooth. It went beneath his arm as he struggled upwards, tensioning the material and strengthening its hold. Another belch and the stench thickened. But this time, it wasn’t too bad. This time there was a promise in the fumes - the same promise he had heard in the mist last night: that everything would be alright if he just relaxed and gave in. Two more deep breaths and it would have been over, but the tooth ripped through his shirt and he pulled free in time. He flopped over the top row of teeth, gasping at the air as black dots speckled his vision.

  ‘Come on Kye!’ Kring shouted. ‘Get off before it opens again.’

  He turned to see the giant on the far bank, gesturing wildly with all four arms. The roots were all gone now - hacked off and lying inanimate at his feet. Head spinning, he crawled towards him, but the tree sprung open for a third time and flung him into the gorge.

  He struck the water on his back, plunging through its depths to make firm contact with the riverbed. The cold was a swift antidote to the fumes and he broke the surface with a delicious blast of clarity. The current took him around a bend and when it slowed he lengthened his stroke, searching for somewhere to climb out. But the jungle hung over the river on both sides; knitted together so tight he couldn’t see the bank. He passed under a huge bird of prey perched on a low branch. It eyed him coldly and when it lifted a wing to preen its feathers he thought it was going to swoop on him. But it just stared, taking to the air when it was spooked by a sudden thrashing of foliage.

  The river widened and he started to panic, but then he saw Ormis lying on his front in a muddy inlet and swam over; pulling himself out as he twisted onto his back.

  ‘The others?’ asked the exorcist between hacking coughs; his blood streaked face a testament to his rougher fall.

  ‘I don’t know… I didn’t see.’

  They sat for a time, purging their chests and allowing their breath to settle. There was a rank residue on the lining of Kye’s throat that tasted of putrefied meat and he retched several times before swilling his mouth with river water and spitting it out. When he was done he saw that Ormis was staring upriver again. He was in another trance and Kye didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t know what it meant, but as he looked into the deep darkness of the jungle he wished the others were there.

  It was some time before the exorcist came back to himself with a blink. ‘We’ll follow the river back to Suula and Kring. They’re probably looking for us and we weren’t carried too far.’

  They clasped arms and climbed to firmer ground. But after a few paces along the bank Ormis staggered and fell flat on his face. Kye assumed it was an after effect of the fumes, but when he bent to offer help, something pierced his thigh. He had just enough time to marve
l at the feathered dart sticking out of his leg before he collapsed to the ground alongside him.

  Puppetry

  Kass Riole stood at the front of the crowd watching a wall of flames devouring a row of houses. Behind him a long chain of people were passing buckets of water to soak a shop that was currently untouched by the fire. Hayhas appeared from a smoke screened side street, coughing harshly as his streaming eyes searched the crowd. Kass waved him over.

  ‘How are we doing?’ he asked, his voice scraping out of his bruised throat.

  ‘Lord Beredrim reckons it’s under control,’ Hayhas replied, turning away to deal with a triplet of barking coughs. ‘They’ve pulled down the fletcher’s workshop and some of the stalls either side of Stonegrass Lane to act as a firebreak… But we’ve lost everything north of Farrowgate to the city wall.’

  ‘And what of casualties?’

  ‘Many. At least twenty fatalities.’ He moved closer, speaking quietly so he wouldn’t be overheard. ‘I spoke to a girl who lives on Market Row where the fire started. She was woken by a scream and saw a ghost smashing up some shops...’ Another hacking cough. ‘It must’ve toppled a lamp or something.’

  ‘Has anyone else seen it?’

  ‘No. But Altho and Djin are still looking.’

  ‘You gave them my instructions?’

  He nodded. ‘To reveal but not draw it.’

  Kass had called together his resident exorcists soon after the spirit left his bedchamber. He told them everything, not withholding his seeming impotence against it. His plan was to perform a collective exorcism: one man out front and the others gathered behind – their collective draw aligning to form an irresistible force that would funnel the spirit into him. This done they would surround him, using a variation of the purge to strengthen his compression. And when ready, the front man would signal for them to step away so he could complete the exorcism. It was a proven method and one of his favourite teaching tools. But he doubted it would work in this case. Izle Rohn had sent this spirit and would be expecting them to attempt the technique. So either he was confident a collective exorcism wouldn’t work, or he had made preparations against it. But he would try anyway. He couldn’t think of another solution and he wouldn’t stand idle whilst Irongate was systematically destroyed.