Lair of the Beast

by Adam Jay Epstein

  “Being the future king is a lot of pressure,” Wily said. “A lot of people are counting on me.”

  “I can sense your shoulders rising with every word,” Olgara said as she studied him closely, her wrinkled eyes inches from his cheekbone. “Keep talking.”

  Wily swallowed hard. This wasn’t something he had ever discussed out loud before. “I guess sometimes the palace walls make me feel trapped,” he said, surprised as the words came out. “Not in the same way as the dungeon of Carrion Tomb. It’s different. I just don’t want to disappoint anybody.”

  “That’s the tension that sits on your shoulders. And flows through your body. And it will be sensed by Palojax or any other wise creature of the wood or mountain or lake.”

  Wily was getting very uncomfortable. It felt like Olgara’s words were digging into him like a burrowing tick trying to find blood. “None of this is helping me learn how to quell,” he snapped. “You told my mother and uncle and I that I needed to use pressure points to calm the lair beast.”

  “You need to press at the top of the back on either side of the spine,” Olgara continued, “But the spots where you press are not nearly as important as the energy that flows through your fingers. You need to release all that pressure you put on yourself before you ever touch a lair beast.”

  Wily thought that sounded ridiculous. When I used to calm the crab dragons, they didn’t care how I was feeling. They didn’t care that I had been miserable living in a dungeon my whole life. How does any of this matter?

  “Here’s what you must understand,” Olgara said slowly. “You don’t need to be perfect. You can’t get everything right. In fact, most things you will get wrong. And that’s okay. That’s part of life.”

  Wily nodded at her words, but inside he knew that she had no idea what it was like to be a prince of Panthasos. She had spent all of her life out here in the wild, with far fewer responsibilities. She couldn’t possibly know how he felt.

  “I understand,” Wily said, trying to placate her.

  Olgara looked at him as if she didn’t quite believe him.

  “Stalag is building his army of stone golems,” Wily said, “and it’s growing with every hour we do nothing.”

  “I see your shoulders rising again.”

  Wily was getting frustrated. “Of course they are,” he snapped. “Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve been saying?”

  “I’ve been listening very carefully,” she said. “Have you?”

  Olgara turned around and headed down the curved trunk of the tree.

  “No more lessons,” she said with a long sigh. “I will point you back to the Roamabout camp. I can help you no more.”

  * * *

  WHEN WILY GOT back to the camp, he found that while the elder members of the tribe continued to keep their distance, the younger Roamabouts had warmed to his companions. Moshul was sitting in the middle of a group of toddlers who, along with their animal friends, were using him like a giant climbing structure. Bunny rabbits bounded across the moss golem’s legs, and mice crawled through his toes. Moshul seemed delighted by all the attention.

  Righteous was arm wrestling some of the burlier teenagers of the tribe and chalking up victories. Wily watched as one Roamabout, nearly the size of a small bear, took a seat on the ground opposite Righteous and locked hands with the magical arm. Within seconds the teenager’s face was flushed red. He was struggling with all his might, but to no avail: he let out a groan as Righteous pinned his hand to the log.

  Odette and Roveeka were playing a very messy game with another group of kids. A large circle had been set up and everyone paired off in teams of two. One member of each team stood in the circle with their eyes blindfolded and hands coated with thick, sticky honey. When each round began, a rock beetle would be released in the center of the circle. It would buzz around as the blindfolded, honey-handed teammates tried to catch it. Of course, without being able to see, the only way they even had a chance to snag a flying beetle was to listen to the shouted directions of their other team member who sat on the ground near the circle. After watching just one round, Wily could tell that the real fun of the game was when the team members in the circle collided and gave each other a face full of sticky honey.

  “You did that on purpose!” Odette shouted as honey dripped down her shirt and lips.

  “May-be,” Roveeka said with a sly grin.

  All the kids burst into a fit of giggles, even Odette, who was wiping the sticky goo from her cheeks and licking it.

  They’re so happy, Wily thought as he looked at Roveeka and Odette. But that will change as soon as they discover I barely learned a thing from Olgara.

  “How’d it go?” Pryvyd called out.

  Wily turned to see the knight sitting with Lumina and Talleywin near a large tree. His mother, her injured leg wrapped in bandages, looked up at him with so much hope. She would be so disappointed once she learned the truth. If only there were some other way to quell the lair beast. He looked across the clearing to the quiet stream where Valor was lounging with her mountain lion. For a moment, Wily considered begging her, but he had a very strong feeling that would only make her want to help him less. Wily turned back to Pryvyd, his mother, and his uncle.

  “It went great,” Wily lied. “Olgara was surprised by how fast I got the hang of it.”

  Both Lumina and Pryvyd beamed.

  “Olgara thinks that I should go practice on the manticorn once before heading off to the Below,” Wily continued. “She said that Valor should take me to find it.”

  “That’s fantastic news,” Lumina said, getting slowly to her feet.

  “I could take you,” Talleywin said. “Valor won’t be keen to help.”

  “No,” Wily said curtly. “Olgara said it had to be her.”

  “Very well,” he said. “She’s wiser than me.”

  Talleywin led Wily to where Valor was sitting with Stalkeer. “Valor,” Talleywin said, “can we speak with you for a minute?”

  Stalkeer growled at him.

  “For a minute,” Valor said, calming her feline companion.

  “Wily needs to be taken to the High Wing Pool to practice quelling the manticorn.”

  “Find someone else,” Valor said. “I don’t feel like watching him getting eaten.”

  “Olgara asked that you do it,” Talleywin said.

  “She did,” Wily lied again. “It was a very specific request.”

  Valor stared at Wily with skeptical eyes. After a moment, her demeanor changed. “If it’s really what Olgara wanted,” she said, quickly leaping to her feet. “We leave now. I don’t want to miss dinner.”

  * * *

  VALOR MOVED QUICKLY through the woods, not seeming to mind that Wily was tripping over roots and fallen branches as he tried to keep pace.

  “You don’t seem to have a lot of experience with this,” Valor said. “It’s called walking. Most Roamabouts learn how to do it when they’re toddlers.”

  “I bet you wouldn’t be quite as swift in a dungeon,” Wily retorted.

  “Left. Right. Left. Right. I think walking is pretty much the same everywhere.”

  Valor and Wily left the woods at the base of one of the legs of Spider Rock. As impressive as it had looked from a distance, here, at its foot, it was positively imposing. A path wound its way beneath three of the legs of the stone spider alongside the cliff wall of the Web.

  As they passed under the second leg of Spider Rock, Wily had to stop for a moment to catch his breath.

  “Tired already?” Valor asked. “Must be from too much time eating cookies in the dining room and not enough time out in the wild exercising.”

  “It’s the thin mountain air,” Wily countered. “I’m still used to thick cave air.”

  “Tell yourself whatever you want,” Valor said. “But the air up here is just as easy to breathe as anywhere else.”

  Wily took a gulp of air and wondered if she was right.

  “I thought a king was supposed to make
decisions. Not excuses.”

  “That wasn’t an excuse. I just got tired for a moment.”

  “And there’s excuse number two. For someone who’s supposedly going to be keeping Panthasos safe, you don’t inspire a lot of confidence.”

  “Sitting on the throne is not an easy job,” Wily said.

  “I bet you do the sitting part just fine. It’s everything else you probably have trouble with.”

  Wily wanted to snap back but he knew right now was not the moment. He still needed her help. A lot of her help.

  As they continued higher, the dirt path slowly faded into a scramble of wobbly rocks that shook as they were stepped on.

  “Make sure you watch where you put your feet,” Valor called back. “The cuttlestones can give quite a sting if you stomp on their backs.”

  “What’s a cuttlestone?” Wily asked as he looked down at the rough terrain.

  “It’s kind of like a land squid,” Valor explained, “with a stinger as long as your thumb, filled with a toxin that causes intense itching that lasts for a whole year.”

  “What do they look like?” Wily asked with growing fear.

  “Round stones with black speckles.”

  Wily looked down at the ground and froze in place. “But all the rocks are round with black speckles!”

  “You’re right,” Valor said with a wicked smile. “You should have worn a pair of shoes with thicker soles.”

  Wily took cautious steps forward, giving each rock a small nudge before stepping on it. Valor seemed to be enjoying this a little too much.

  As they moved higher up the Web, the rocks changed over to boulders that required scrambling up and over. Wily could tell that Valor was surprised by his climbing skills. He was used to clinging to much more precarious surfaces. Climbing boulders was much easier than scaling a greased wall over a boiling lava pit. But Valor was not eager to give out compliments.

  After a short stretch of boulders, the mountain leveled out into a field of tall grass. Crickets and tumblebugs scurried past Wily’s ankles toward a wall of reeds ahead. As they got closer, frogs and slynx peeked their heads above the thick weeds to catch a glimpse of the unusual human visitors.

  “Animals from mountains away travel here to drink from the High Wing Pool,” Valor said as she lightened her steps. “The water can heal wounds with a few drinks and fill you with the strength of a beast three times your own size. It’s even rumored to make you grow larger if you drink enough of it.” Valor took measure of Wily. “Maybe you should get a couple jugs yourself.”

  “Hey!” Wily said, offended. “I’m average height.”

  “Maybe for a gwarf or a squatling.”

  Wily lifted his shoulders high to make himself an inch or two taller. “I’m still growing,” he said defiantly.

  As Valor pushed aside the first reeds, she turned back to Wily and whispered, “I don’t know what we might see in there. So just stay calm.”

  She moved quietly through the dense reeds. Wily was less stealthy, his knees knocking the long shoots. Ahead, Wily saw a sparkling blue pool with a dozen animals gathered around it. Back when he first exited Carrion Tomb, he might have been terrified by the tall herons standing knee deep in the water, but that was before he realized that most birds were completely harmless. “I’m guessing none of these creatures are the manticorn,” he said, eyeing mountain mice and a sleeping sloth.

  Valor circled around to a patch of unoccupied mud on the far side of the pool. She bent down near it. “I think we might have just missed it,” she said excitedly. “The print is still fresh.”

  Valor turned to one of the herons standing in the pool. Its long beak poked the water, searching for tadpoles. Valor cupped her hands over her mouth and began making low cawing sounds.

  After a moment, the heron replied with a series of whistles and caws. Wily was skilled in Grunt, Arachnid, and Gargletongue, but the language of birds was completely foreign to him.

  “The manticorn left just moments ago,” Valor explained to Wily. “Maybe even as we were pushing through the reeds. It must have sensed us coming. They’re not keen on any two-legged creature.” She gestured to the reeds. “If we hurry, we may be able to catch up with it.”

  Before following her, Wily dropped to his knees beside the pool and pulled a vial from his pouch. While Valor wasn’t watching, Wily uncorked the vial and scooped it into the pool, filling it. He wouldn’t mind growing a couple extra inches, but Valor didn’t need to know that. He slipped the vial back into his trapsmith belt. Then, splashing past the snoring sloth splayed out on the mud, he hurried after Valor, who was fast disappearing into the reeds.

  10

  THE MANTICORN

  As Valor led them out of the reeds, Wily found himself on one of the jutting precipices of the Web. The view to the forest below was staggering, and looking far to the north, Wily thought he could spot the lake that was home to the Floating City and the mountains beyond that hid the entrance to Carrion Tomb. But Wily knew his attention should be on the nearby cave and the strange pattern of claw prints in the mud in front of it.

  “Do you think it’s inside?” Wily asked as he peered into the darkness of the cave.

  “Nope,” Valor said. “I think it’s right behind you.”

  Wily turned to see a two-headed beast crawling toward him on six clawed legs. It had the body and tail of a giant panther—but its two heads were not a panther’s. One head resembled an eagle with a giant horn sticking out from between its eyes. The other looked as if it had been taken from a goat, except that it had dagger-sharp fangs where its teeth should be. Neither head looked friendly.

  “I’d say good luck,” Valor said as she scurried over and took cover behind a nearby rock, “but I think you’re going to need a lot more than that.”

  Wily’s heart was racing as he faced the beast on his own. The manticorn didn’t hesitate. It pounced on Wily, its mighty body striking the ground just as he rolled away. The eagle head let out an ear-piercing screech. Not to be outdone, the goat released a terrifying bleat.

  I’ve faced off against crab dragons and fed swarms of ghost spiders without blinking an eye, Wily reassured himself. Just take it nice and easy.

  He reached into his pouch and pulled out a slice of tunnel trout. Both heads of the manticorn eyed the salted fish in his hand.

  “That’s right,” Wily said, holding the fish out before him. “Salted tunnel trout. Very yummy.”

  The two heads of the manticorn snapped the air as it moved closer.

  “Which of you is going to get it?” Wily asked.

  As both heads lunged for the briny treat, Wily took a quick step back and tossed the fish over the manticorn. The salty treat landed behind the beast.

  Unfortunately, the beast didn’t turn for it the way a giant scorpion or ghost spider would have. It kept all four of its eyes locked on Wily and let out another screech and bleat in unison. And although Wily was not fluent in either Avian or Hoofspeak, he was pretty sure the manticorn’s two heads had said something to the effect of “I’m not falling for that. I’ve got my eyes on a bigger meal.” The manticorn pounced again at Wily, who scrambled back and grabbed a tree branch to defend himself.

  He was cornered.

  This is it, Wily thought. This is the moment when Valor will see that I’m in mortal danger, come rescue me, quell the manticorn, and change her mind about helping us on our quest.

  He looked over his shoulder to find—that Valor was nowhere to be seen.

  The manticorn moved closer, preparing to feast.

  This is not what I expected to happen, Wily thought. “Valor!” he called out. “I need help!”

  “If Olgara thought you were ready,” Valor replied from her hiding spot, “I’m sure you’ve got this.”

  Wily realized he had to do this on his own. I need to find a way to get on the back of the manticorn and quell it myself.

  Wily knew what Odette would do if she were in this situation: she’d use the stick he
was holding to vault up and over the two manticorn heads, making a perfect landing on the beast’s back. The problem was that he was not trained to pull off that complicated an acrobatic maneuver. Besides, backflips were not the way he dealt with trouble. He invented his way out of problems. He scanned the ground for a solution. Is there something I could use as springs for my shoes? Or a giant elastic string to launch myself like a tomato from a slingshot?

  As he dodged the sharp horn jutting out of the eagle’s forehead, he spotted an oval-shaped rock on the ground. Then he looked down at the branch in his hand. He could use it to make a simple lever, just a beam and a fulcrum.

  Now the ram’s head lunged at Wily with its black-tipped fangs. He rolled out of the way and laid the branch on top of the rock so that it was perfectly balanced in the center. Wily hopped onto the end of the branch that was closer to the manticorn, then turned to face the beast as it stalked forward.

  “Okay!” Wily taunted the beast. “Pounce on me.”

  The manticorn bent its knees just like it had before, preparing to leap. As it launched itself into the air, Wily quickly backed up, positioning himself on the other side of the makeshift seesaw. When the manticorn landed on the empty, elevated side of the lever, the impact sent Wily flying into the air, up and over the heads of the beast. Wily landed on the back of the manticorn, facing the creature’s tail.

  As the manticorn tried to buck Wily to the ground, he slid up its back and spun around so that he was facing the front of the thrashing beast. He found the spot at the base of the two necks and grabbed it with his fingers.

  I can do this, Wily thought. Quell the manticorn.

  He squeezed tightly down on the spot where the eagle and goat necks joined together.

  Use calm energy. Channel it into the pressure point.

  The manticorn lashed wildly, kicking its hind legs.

  You have to do this right, Wily silently shouted at himself. Everyone is counting on you.