Heroes of Perpetua

by Brian Clopper

  “Hey, there.” Hugo waved at the owl. “Bet you’re a real hoot. Wanna serenade us with a few hearty ones?”

  Please tell your companion I don’t issue pedestrian hoots. I am above the common riffraff.

  That was true. Barn owls communicated with hisses and long whistles.

  The owl’s thoughts crowded Nelson’s mind. I don’t need a lesson from you on my behavior. Please put your friend in his place.

  Nelson said, “Don’t make fun of him.”

  Hugo stared at Nelson. “Why?”

  “He doesn’t like it.”

  Lou sidled over to Nelson, moving slowly as to not spook both the owl and the golem.

  The golem pointed at the feathered intruder. “What manner of bird is this?”

  “Barn owl, I think,” Hugo said. “You don’t have owls where you’re from?”

  The golem shook his head. “We have winnohs, reezus, and hibits. Lapls are rare and that’s a good thing. Decidedly vicious predators. And lik-toks and quite a few others but none of these owls as you call this one.”

  Nelson found it interesting. Was the golem making these things up or were there completely different species where he was from? Again, he found that hard to believe.

  Lou said, “Nelson, how do you know what the owl likes and dislikes?”

  Nelson felt foolish. She would make fun of him if he told her the truth.

  Don’t hedge your words, boy. Tell her. The sooner you come to grips with the magic in you, the better. The owl glared at Hugo as if trying to determine something about him. He stared much the same at Lou. All of you have magic socked away within.

  “He’s communicating with me in my head. He can talk to me, and I can answer back. It’s weird, and there’s a slight echo to his thoughts.”

  “Telepathy,” Lou whispered.

  “So the owl says, but how can that be?” Nelson said.

  “Magic,” Hugo said.

  Do they know of their magical gifts?

  Well, a wizard just told us we each have a magical spark or something. Nelson found it easier if he pictured the words flying out an open window.

  “He says you each have magic, too.” He nodded at Lou and Hugo.

  Hugo scrunched up his face and pointed to his forehead and then to the owl. “I’m thinking of a number.”

  The owl adjusted his wings and flexed his talons. Nelson found the gestures definite examples of aggressive posturing.

  Tell him his gift is not the same as yours. Only you can reach out to animals.

  Nelson flashed to Lou and how she’d claimed to have seen and spoken to Tally-Ho’s ghost.

  He must’ve sent that thought outward as it provoked a response from the owl. I can see where you might think her gift to be similar to yours, but it sounds like she can commune with the dead, while your talents lie with the living, specifically all things plant and animal.

  Nelson wanted to ask more about the plant detail. Conversing with flora made no sense. Then again, chatting with fauna was also equally out there.

  Georgie now held a long stick and was jabbing it toward the owl. The golem took a step closer and lunged. The stick would snag the bird if he advanced any further. “You look none too friendly a bird. Fly off.”

  This is growing tiresome. Would you like help in silencing this mud beast? The owl shook his tail feathers.

  Nelson imagined silencing involved the animal’s beak and claws. Um, no thanks.

  The owl shook his head. No, I don’t mean to tear into him. I merely offer my services at calming his inner turmoil. Something tells me you’d prefer him less uptight, more centered. I can make that happen.

  “Scram!” The golem pressed forward, bringing up the stick as if about to club the owl. He swept his makeshift weapon downward, aiming for the bird’s head.

  The barn owl hopped out of the way and flung his left wing out to bat the stick from the golem’s hands. The weapon flew through the air, clattering onto a stretch of rocks near the creek.

  Nelson felt like things were tilting even more out of control. Could settling down the golem allow the wizard to reassert himself? That seemed like a logical conclusion. Although, logical just didn’t seem to make sense with their current, allegedly magical, circumstance. I guess it’s worth a shot. What can you do?

  Yoga. Please repeat what I say to the fidgety one.

  Georgie or Hugo? Nelson grinned at his joke.

  The golem. The other is a lost cause.

  Okay.

  The owl turned and faced the golem. Little one. I sense you are experiencing turmoil.

  Nelson hesitated.

  Please look at him. Eye contact is important. The owl caught his uncertainty. What’s wrong? The bird sent him a penetrating look.

  Nelson turned away.

  Ah, you don’t like meeting eye to eye. How silly, but understandable. You view every long look as a challenge. They can be, but also locking your gaze with another can connect, can soothe.

  Nelson didn’t think that was true. Stroking his mom’s hair worked far better than looking her straight in the face.

  Thanks to his acute peripheral vision, he saw the golem stared at the owl and him. At least he was no longer trying to bash anyone.

  Please look at him and repeat what I say and mimic my movements.

  Nelson shifted his head up and around. He stared at the golem’s chin. Slowly, he sent his gaze upward until he stared at the golem directly. He blinked but didn’t look away.

  Nice, now let’s calm your prey.

  Prey? He took his eyes off the golem and glared at the back of the owl’s head.

  The owl communicated without turning around to face him. Sorry, this technique is used to lull a cornered animal into submission so I can easily pounce. In this case, I don’t intend that outcome. Just want the woods to be quieter.

  Okay. Nelson didn’t like the vibe the owl gave off, but he sensed this was the course of action that would prove successful.

  Little one, I sense you are experiencing turmoil. The owl bent down slowly.

  Nelson tried to speak as smoothly as he could. “Little one, I sense you are experiencing turmoil.” He dropped to his knees to make himself smaller to the golem like the owl was.

  The owl continued feeding him lines and movements.

  “You are among those who wish you no harm.” Nelson gently opened his wings, er, arms.

  The golem stared at him blankly, his mouth hanging open just a little.

  Nelson sensed that Hugo and Lou had drifted closer to him and now sat cross-legged on either side.

  Nelson imitated the owl’s bow, bringing his chin almost to the ground. His knees ground into his chest. While he didn’t do any sports, he had always been flexible. “You will feel much better if you quiet yourself and sit.”

  The golem dropped on his bottom.

  Nelson slowly sat up and brought his hands together as if praying. “We’re here to help you.” He added, “We are friends of Wizard Itzel.”

  Smile at him, just a little, no teeth.

  Nelson grinned.

  Georgie mirrored his praying hands and returned the smile.

  They sat like this for several minutes. Finally, the owl deemed it time to reconvene with Nelson.

  Ah, so much more serene now. The owl swiveled his head around. Do you think you can keep the peace so I can go back to the hunt? I might have to widen my scope tonight as your stumbling through here along with all the noise scared away my buffet.

  I think we can manage that. Nelson felt remarkably relaxed himself. He rolled his shoulders, surprised at how loose his body felt. He liked owl yoga.

  The golem rolled his tiny shoulders, too.

  The owl marched slowly away from the golem to a spot closer to the creek. He looked over at Nelson. Pleasure to meet you, young mage.

  Nelson nodded. Same.

  The owl took off and glided downstream, effortlessly maintaining his flight path just a few feet above the water.

  The golem
stood.

  Nelson worried Georgie might bolt. He kept his eyes aligned with the golem’s. It still didn’t feel comfortable, but he knew it was important.

  The golem said, “How do you know the wizard?”

  Lou said, “He was just here. I think if we stay put for a while and don’t do anything rash, he’ll show up again.” She glanced at Nelson.

  He met her gaze, however briefly. He got her meaning. She also thought the secret to getting the wizard to take charge was to keep Georgie mellow.

  “Maybe you could tell us all your duties while we wait,” Nelson said.

  The golem came closer and sat. “Be happy to. The wizard really appreciates all that I do. He says I’m indefensible.”

  “You mean indispensable?” Nelson asked.

  “Yes, that.” The golem smiled.

  Hugo leaned in and whispered for all to hear, “If it’s okay with you guys, how about you two keep on with the super-dull meditation and I’ll check out the creek? Saw something fishy over there.”

  Nelson nodded slowly. “Just keep it laidback, Hugo.”

  Hugo stood at an obnoxiously unhurried pace. He then ran in slow-motion toward the creek. “Laidback is my middle name.”

  Lou said, “Introductions are in order. We know you are the great Georgie Golem. I’m Lou and this is Nelson.” She put a hand on Nelson’s shoulder.

  Nelson stared at her slender fingers but didn’t move out from under them.

  Lou patted him twice and withdrew her hand.

  They struck up a relaxed conversation with the now-serene golem.

  Chapter 9

  Hugo Finds His Fighting Spirit

  He had to give Nelson credit—he’d gotten the golem to calm down. Figures Nelson would be great at keeping things boring.

  Hugo waited until he was well away from the meditating trio to resume his progress at normal speed.

  Let his friends chat it up with the golem. He knew the two of them hoped keeping Georgie chill would bring the wizard back. That made a certain sense.

  So Nelson could talk to birds. How was that possible? The wizard had said each of them contained some sort of magic. Did that explain Nelson’s crazy powers? Could they all talk to animals or did each get a special talent?

  Barn owls had always creeped Hugo out. Something about their stark white faces was off-putting. Plus, he couldn’t escape the notion that the bird had raced off to snatch up some prey. It was clear the owl had been feeding his friend the right lines to calm the golem. It had been weird watching Nelson ape the same movements as the feathered predator, but he had gone along with it because Lou had. He’d resisted pouncing on the golem at least twice during the meditation session. So strange, he thought.

  But he needed to focus on uncovering another mystery that he was sure he’d been the only one to see. While Lou and Nelson had been all eyes forward, staring the golem into submission, his mind and gaze had wandered. He was now on a side quest thanks to his eagle eyes. And as was so often the case in video games, such detours could lead to additional rewards or upgrades—or so he hoped.

  He drew up to the water’s edge. The creek was rather narrow here. He’d walked most of the length of the waterway over the years, even splashed about in it and used it to fill his water guns, but their chase had left him quite turned around. They were for sure upstream from where the wizard had shown them scenes from Perpetua, but that was all he knew. He’d always explored more downstream of his house.

  Hugo peered into the waterway, glad it ran so clear. After a decent rain, it was always so cloudy. He searched for signs of what he had seen earlier. A fish had leapt out of the water, he was certain of it. A big, long, skinny black one.

  He knew there were fish in the stream, mostly catfish and sunnies. Nothing remarkable, but the brief glimpse he’d gotten had him wondering if a new species now called the creek home. The fish was really long, almost like an eel. Could it be a snakehead? They were an invasive species. His dad should know if snakeheads had infiltrated the creek. Like, maybe they could report the fish to a park ranger or whatever agency dealt with animals that threatened native species. He’d have to research that. Was it the Fish and Game Department? The Federal Bureau of Fish?

  He walked along the creek, drifting into the woods as he headed downstream. He glanced back to see Lou and Nelson still babysitting the golem. Another few yards and he’d lose sight of them what with the dense undergrowth he now plowed through.

  I can just race along here for a little and see if I can find it again, he thought.

  He slowed, working his way through the shrubs, tall grasses, and itchy weeds. Hugo kept his eyes peeled.

  Hugo stopped after about a hundred feet, flustered. Not a single fish, not even any tadpoles. He thought of Nelson schooling his dad on the winter habits of tadpoles. It had been hard to hide his amusement at Nelson’s scientific one-upmanship. Not that he wanted his dad to feel bad, but it just had been funny. He’d be sure to rib him for it, maybe even bring back a tadpole or two to rub his face in it. Only there weren’t any to be found.

  He continued downstream. Nothing, no aquatic life whatsoever. He froze. It couldn’t be a good thing that the creek was so empty. Why was that not a good thing? He studied the water.

  Because the snakeheads had eaten up everything else.

  He nodded to himself, pleased with his answer. While it was clear Nelson had a great deal of knowledge in his scientific noggin, Hugo could keep up with him. Well, he could tread water alongside him. Okay, I can tread water a slight bit behind the boy genius. He laughed. It wasn’t a competition. Some people were better at certain things than he was. He didn’t need to always come out on top. He sighed. Playing a video game campaign came easy to him. It was only about the best he could do.

  Suddenly, a dark shape flew out of the water and landed on the ground mere feet in front of him. The long, black thing flopped about.

  Up close, he realized it wasn’t a snakehead.

  It was as long as his leg, with a pointy dorsal fin that also traveled along most of the top of the fish. Its pectorals were huge, basically flying fish wings.

  The fish’s face was blunt, its overly large yellow eyes staring at him as it flopped from one side to the other. Its tail smacked Hugo’s ankle, and he retreated, placing a small berry bush between himself and the thrashing fish.

  It hissed and gasped.

  Should he throw it back in the water?

  Another fish flew out of the creek and landed next to the first. It immediately focused on Hugo and flopped toward him. Both fish were squirming through the grass. Like eels. No, wait, like snakes. He gasped, suddenly aware of what these things reminded him of.

  Two more fish soared out of the water, landing to his right and zeroing in on him.

  The flying snakes.

  They swatted the ground with their long pectoral fins, webbed . . . like a bat’s.

  It clicked. These things were cousins to what had attacked them earlier.

  A stabbing pain flared in his right foot. One of the fish had locked its jaws on the heel of his sneaker, its teeth piercing the material and his flesh. He shook it loose as another leapt in the air and crashed into his stomach. He batted it aside, barely keeping it from taking a chunk out of him.

  He stumbled backwards, tripping twice but managing not to fall on the ground. He counted at least eight of the shadow fish charging at him, most slithering across the ground with a few intrepid ones taking pronounced hops.

  He spun around to find several fish had gotten in front of him.

  Hugo glanced about, realizing they now encircled him. Wow, that was quick. He reached up and snapped a small branch from the pine tree next to him. He swatted away two airborne attackers before the branch broke.

  Another bite through his left sneaker told him he couldn’t stay on the ground.

  Okay, so maybe my magic can make me fly. Good time to test that theory. He concentrated, willing whatever mysterious pool of energy that apparen
tly resided inside to rocket him up through the many branches.

  Nothing. He leapt once, twice.

  Still grounded.

  A fish struck his back, and he felt its teeth scrape against his skin even through his shirt.

  He examined the pine tree and then looked at his attackers. The ground around him was a swirling carpet of shadow fish, numbering fifty if he had to bet.

  He jumped up and grabbed a branch. Latching onto another with his free hand, Hugo pulled himself up, scrambling his feet against the trunk until one found a branch.

  A fish soared high enough to snap at his hair. He slapped it down, almost losing his grip in the process. He swung his body around and briefly hugged the tree.

  Hugo reached up and found another handhold. He pulled himself higher and higher, growing calmer as the distance between him and the shadow fish widened.

  Eventually, he stopped to catch his breath. As near as he could tell, he was a good twenty feet up. The branches around him were smaller, more flexible because they were newer growths.

  He watched his attackers continue to leap up at him. The limit of their reach seemed to be halfway down, so maybe ten feet or so.

  He looked toward where he thought Lou and Nelson were. He couldn’t see them. Hugo had really gone quite far downstream. He called out several times but got no response. How was he supposed to get them to come rescue him? And should he? What could they do? Maybe Nelson could talk the fish into not eating them. The second he thought of the proposition, he dismissed it. These things weren’t normal animals. Were they from Perpetua? He really wished the wizard had gotten through more of his story so they would know what they were up against. Did the prince with no magic in the story control the shadow creatures? Why was he sending them here?

  A scratching noise from below drew his attention. Three fish adhered to the tree, and he saw how that was possible. The ends of their dorsal fins now featured three curved claws. Those hadn’t been there before; he was sure of that. Adaptations on demand. That’s not good. He watched the highest fish swing a fin up and dig into the bark.

  Hugo moved another set of branches higher.