[An Epic Fantasy 01.0] Skip

by Perrin Briar

  A flood of strange lizard-like creatures wearing nothing but leaves over their genitals and hefting spears in their powerful arms hurtled down the mountainside. They had tattoos over their arms and shoulders and short sharp bones through their noses. They had tall long necks and muscular limbs. Their skin was scaly like a snake’s. Their eyes big, pupils slitted.

  “Friends of yours?” Elian said.

  “Throwing spears at us?” Jera said. “They must be your friends.”

  They ran into the foliage, giant leaves swinging aside like swing doors. Tossed spears slammed into the waterlogged earth, the lizardmen hot on their heels.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The rain blended with the dirt and formed a thick sludge that oozed down the mountainside. Jera’s legs got stuck and she could hardly move. She looked back over her shoulder and saw the lizardmen were gaining.

  She stepped forward and slipped, lost her footing, and hit the side of the hill. She slid down it, the mud sloshing against her arms and legs. She reached out for a vine or branch or tree root, but everything slipped through her fingers like it were caked in slime. The incline grew steeper still, a near-vertical drop. She looked down past her legs, but the rain stung her eyes. Mud clogged up her nose and mouth. She spat it out.

  The incline slackened off, becoming flat. She slowed to a stop. Her hair was windblown, and she felt awake and alive. She looked back up the incline. There were rocky protrusions and thick tree trunks dotted like a pizza topping.

  Elian flew down the mountainside with even less control than she had. He spun end over end in a circle. He struck a tree hard, and Jera flinched. He came to a stop at her feet. He had a large welt on his head that was already beginning to swell.

  “Some ride, huh?” Jera said. “Want to go again?”

  The lizardmen hurtled down the mountainside with a strength and grace Jera didn’t think possible. They stood up, front leg forward, the back bent slightly, surfing down the raging muddy torrent. They leapt rocky outcrops and tree trunks and sailed down the mountainside with ease. Their eyes were trained on her.

  “We’ve got to go,” she said. “We’ve got to go now!”

  Elian mumbled something unintelligible. His head nodded. He was barely conscious. Jera braced his arm over her shoulder and led him into a wall of leafy foliage. Jera heard the rush of water, and braced herself to skip.

  “Thank God,” she said.

  She closed her eyes and waited. And waited. She opened her eyes. They hadn’t skipped. She took a moment to listen, and then pushed aside a fern bush.

  The roar of cascading water doubled in volume. Jera now stood over a cliff that fell down to the water below. Water cascaded over the edge like a giant writhing curtain. The spray reached them even though they were a hundred feet up. And down below, the water smashed across jagged rocks like they were the teeth of a giant monster.

  “A-la-a-la-la!” came the voices of the lizardmen rushing through the undergrowth behind them.

  Jera stepped up to the edge.

  “Wait,” Elian said, eyes half-closed with unconsciousness. “Let me prepare myself-”

  Jera took the Cog of Fate from him and pushed him over the edge. He fell as graceful as a rock. She heard him hit the surface somewhere far below. Jera reached into her pocket and put the cog beside Puca. She stroked his fur. It calmed her.

  “Puca, are you ready?” she said.

  A spear flew past her, inches from her head. She looked back in time to see the lizardmen crash through the foliage. They pulled their arms back. She hurled herself off the cliff edge and fell, fell, fell…

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Jera felt like a sponge that was soaked through. She pressed at her front pocket and felt a fuzzy lump there. Puca was warm.

  Jera was perched on the tip of a rock that fed into the river. The water lapped against her legs. She reached up with exhausted arms and pulled her bottom half out. Her arms shook with the effort. She turned her head.

  Elian was a little further along the seafront, lying flat and prostrate on a pebble beach. He didn’t appear to be moving. The knot on his head was big and red, stark against his pale skin. Then Elian’s body convulsed, coughing up a lungful of dirty water that dribbled down his chin. His body instinctively turned over onto its side. He lay still, gasping rasping breaths.

  Jera’s eyes felt heavy. On the very fringe of sleep she heard the roar of the waterfall once again, this time all-encompassing, as if she were becoming the waterfall herself.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The wind ruffled the tuft of grass high on the mountain top and then drifted down the sharp incline, disturbing some stray pebbles before diving into the crevice below. It wound halfway up the opposite mountain before descending back into the crevice and winding its way around the boulders and rocks that lay there, and finally sighed out through the mouth of the valley, ruffling the hair of a man and a woman, who stood dumbfounded.

  “We have got to stop meeting like this,” Elian said, voice distant, eyes focused on an indeterminate point ahead.

  “Believe me,” Jera said, “if it were up to me we wouldn’t meet at all.”

  “Are you all right?”

  Jera nodded.

  “Are you?” she said.

  “Yes,” he said. “I’m fine.”

  They were silent, processing the reality of the situation they found themselves in.

  “Do you think we survived the fall?” Elian said.

  “I don’t know,” Jera said. “But we were still breathing.”

  “That’s comforting. We might at least have been given the privilege of a slow drawn-out death.”

  Jera checked her watch.

  “We’re back to our own time,” she said. “Plus a few hours.”

  “I wonder how I got out of the police station,” Elian said.

  “I have no idea. Maybe they just let you go.”

  “Sure. And maybe the king opened the door himself.”

  Elian moved to a small boulder and sat on it.

  “How did we end up in the jungle if we decided not to go find these spare parts?” he said.

  “We must have changed our minds, I suppose. Looks like the universe is making us do what we don’t want to do.”

  “The universe? What are you talking about?”

  “The clocktower. How else do you explain all this?”

  Elian shrugged.

  “Maybe we took some Gap by accident,” he said.

  “The effects would have worn off by now.”

  “I’ll tell you this though,” Elian said. “I’m sure not looking forward to skipping back to that prison cell.”

  Elian walked over to an outcrop of jutting rock. On it was Grandfather Time’s letter, held in place by a large stone.

  “I think you’re right,” he said, “the universe is trying to give us a message.”

  He lifted the rock and retrieved the letter.

  “This message,” he said. “Looks like we’re going to have to be the heroes after all.”

  “So, what shall we do?” Jera said.

  “If we keep getting sent back here, what can we do?” Elian said.

  “Listen, I don’t know what you want to do, but I’m going to try and find these spare parts for the clock. I can’t let everyone I know and love die because I was too selfish to try.”

  “I’ve got news for you: I’m not that selfish either.”

  “You’re coming too?”

  “You can only run from your responsibilities for so long. At some point you have to take them up.”

  Jera frowned.

  “What happened to you?” she said.

  “Me? Nothing. What happened to you?”

  “Nothing.”

  There was a pause.

  “So we’re doing this?” Jera said.

  “Looks like it.”

  “One thing confuses me, though,” Elian said.

  “Only one?” Jera said.

  “Where have w
e been for the past month?”

  “By the state of our clothes,” Jera said, fingering a hole in her dress, “travelling.”

  “Yes,” Elian said. “And I suppose we’re going to be getting a lot more holes like that.”

  “Where are we off to first?” Jera said.

  Elian checked the map and smiled.

  “You’ll never believe it,” he said.

  “Where?”

  “The Rumble Jungle.”

  “Great.”

  Jera checked her watch.

  “We have four days left.”

  “This is going to be a long week.”

  Then Elian’s eyes went wide.

  “Hold still!” he said. “You’ve got something on you!”

  Elian picked up a stick and swung it. It connected with something on Jera’s shoulder, and landed amongst the detritus at their feet. Elian screamed.

  “It’s a rat!” he said.

  The rodent flew out, a crazed expression in its eyes. Elian pulled his stick back to strike again. Jera stepped between them.

  “No!” she said. “Don’t!”

  “Move!” Elian said. “It’s rabid!”

  “He’s not rabid! He’s angry!”

  Elian paused, but the demon rodent flew at his leg.

  “Puca, stop it!” Jera said.

  The creature stopped and glared at Elian.

  “I’m sorry,” Elian said, “did you say ‘Puca’? What’s a ‘puca’?”

  “He’s a friend I made during my trip.”

  “You made a friend? You were only out in the world a few hours!”

  “A day and a half, actually.”

  “And you made a friend?”

  “Several. You didn’t?”

  “No,” he said, “but I made a few enemies.”

  Jera shrugged.

  “I must have been lucky,” she said.

  Puca leaned over and bit Elian on the ankle. Elian pulled his leg back to strike Puca, but he hopped onto Jera’s leg, and climbed into her hands.

  “Don’t you even think about it!” Jera said.

  “He bit me!” Elian said.

  “Then you probably did something to deserve it.”

  Puca poked his tongue out at Elian.

  “I didn’t do anything!” Elian said. “If I get rabies because of this…”

  “It’s more likely he’ll catch something from you. Isn’t that true, my wickle Puca?”

  Jera hugged Puca and smothered him with kisses.

  “You’re going to make me sick,” Elian said. “Do you even know where he’s been?”

  “I know where you’ve been. Trust me, he’s cleaner.”

  Puca hugged her back, a look of sheer happiness on his face. Then something odd happened. Puca’s ears began to shrink, and once they had fully receded, they began to grow long again, only this time upwards, bigger than before. And then his long thin tail withdrew into his body and puffed out in a tiny explosion of fur, forming a fluffy tail. His body elongated, and his legs grew larger and more powerful. And most incredible of all, Puca didn’t even notice. He still had the same beaming smile on his face. Jera broke their embrace, and started at what she saw.

  “Puca?” she said. “Is that you?”

  Puca’s two front teeth popped out from his upper jaw. He ran his tongue over them, and his eyes went wide. Jera put him down. He ran to a puddle and hesitantly peeked into it like it might contain a monster. After poking at his features his shoulders hunched with despair, and all at once his rabbit features retracted, and he shrunk back into his original puca form.

  “Now look at yourself, Puca,” Jera said, pointing at the puddle.

  Puca shook his head, a tear rolling down his cheek.

  “Go on,” Jera said.

  Puca did, and he grew excited, and his ears began to form rabbit ears again.

  “Just what’s going on?” Elian said.

  “Pucas can change shape depending on how they feel. Looks like he becomes a rabbit when he’s happy.”

  She looked at Elian.

  “I suppose we’re all capable of change,” she said.

  Puca reformed into his puca shape, ran up Jera’s leg and perched on her shoulder.

  Jera and Elian looked up at the tall boulders perched over them like vultures, ready to swoop down and crush the life out of them at any moment. A powerful wind blew from behind, ruffling their clothes, encouraging them forward. They took their first tentative step into the crevice, and into their adventure.

  Chapter Forty

  Craig stood sweeping the floor. The patch he was dusting had scratch marks from where he’d been sweeping the same spot for so long. The bakery was empty of customers. He looked over at Miss Argust’s empty chair behind the counter. No matter how many times he checked, he still expected to see her glaring down at him.

  A shadow fell across the floor. A figure stood in the doorway, blocking the dying sunlight and hot air pipe, causing the bell above the door to ring. Craig leaned his broom up against the wall and walked toward the counter, but before he got there the figure had already made her way behind the counter herself.

  “Miss Argust?” Craig said.

  Her hair looked like she’d been dragged backwards through a hedge, and her eyes were wide and unblinking. Grime smeared her face and arms. Her apron was torn and had streaks of dried blood on it.

  “Miss Argust?” Craig said. “Are you all right?”

  Miss Argust folded her hefty arms, revealing bruises on the undersides. She stared into space. The doorbell rang. Elsie Wilkins stepped into the shop, her nervous eyes looked at Miss Argust, and then at the floor.

  “I thought I saw you come back,” Elsie said. “This place hasn’t been the same without you, Ada. Craig did a wonderful job of keeping it for you. Baked all the bread, dealt with all the customers, didn’t you Craig?”

  “Yes,” Craig said.

  Miss Argust still hadn’t moved a muscle. Elsie looked at her hands. Her bottom lip trembled.

  “I’m sorry, Ada,” she said. “I… I had no choice. My family. They said they would harm them… I’m sorry. I don’t deserve to be here.”

  She turned to leave.

  “Sit,” Miss Argust said, pointing a sausage-sized finger at a stool.

  Elsie looked from Miss Argust to Craig and back to Miss Argust again. She made her way to a stool and sat down, eyes wary. Miss Argust’s well-practiced hands worked the machinery to make a steaming cup of hot chocolate. She sat it on the table before Elsie.

  “Thank you, Ada,” Elsie said.

  “Craig,” Miss Argust said. “See to your other duties and go home.”

  “It’s all done, Miss Argust,” Craig said. “I was about to close the shop when you arrived.”

  Miss Argust nodded. She picked up a small box and filled it with baked goods. She sealed the top and pushed it across the table. Craig approached and took it.

  “Glad to see you back, Miss Argust,” Craig said.

  “What have I missed?” Miss Argust said to Elsie.

  Elsie smiled.

  “Well,” she said, “where do I begin?”

  Craig collected his flat cap and coat from off the hook and put them on. He stepped out through the back door into the alley and locked the door behind himself.

  It was a brisk chill evening. He pulled the collar of his jacket up and put his hands in his pockets. Men had finished unloading a cart and sat on crates, drinking from bottles they’d just unloaded. The horse snapped at the box Craig carried under one arm with its thick top lip as he passed. Craig reached the end of the alley and headed into town.

  The town was quiet with few pedestrians. White uniformed men stood outside the monolithic clocktower, which stood tall and proud over the town. Pairs of men in white uniforms marched up and down the streets with arrogant purpose.

  Craig passed the Wythnos mansion home, not stopping to even look at all the constables and their carriages parked up outside it. He kept his head down and walked
at a sedate pace. The paved road gave way to dirt country roads and fifteen minutes later he came to the outskirts of town. He headed to an entry gate built into the wall and approached the constable who stood on guard.

  Craig smiled and nodded. The constable didn’t change his blank expression. He raised his arm to a man up on the ramparts who turned a wheel, causing the gate to rise. It stopped after it rose three feet into the air. Craig stepped forward and ducked under the gate. The chain clanked as it was lowered back into place again.

  Before him was an open stretch of flatlands that gradually rose up an incline into a wood. He felt the same nervous tickling sensation on the back of his neck he always had when crossing the wide open space. He got to the edge of the woods and headed inside it. Only once he was inside, protected by the darkness of nature, did he stop to turn and look back at the town to see if he’d been followed. There was no one.

  He headed deeper into the woods. Twice he almost turned to head down a different, faster route and get home quicker, and both times he resisted the urge. He turned left and headed for the lake, but never quite got there, deciding to veer right and head straight on instead. He doubled back on himself, diverging left.

  The trees here were massive, twenty feet wide and half the height of the clocktower. A single stump sat amongst them. Holes had been cut into it to form windows, and a small wisp of smoke listed from the chimney in its roof.

  Craig pushed the door open and his heart fluttered. She was at the stove cooking, her long blonde hair tied up into a bun. She dipped a wooden spoon into the bubbling broth and tasted it. Craig put the box of cakes on the table, and took out two iced buns he had in his pocket.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Kali said.

  “Always,” Craig said.

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