Heroes of Perpetua

by Brian Clopper

Lou ran up the dune and whacked at the sand with the spear. The zombie stopped and reversed course, going for her.

  She bolted. Lou lowered the spear and really tried to maximize her momentum as she drove the weapon into the sand once again and vaulted. This time she doubled the distance before landing. She jumped to her feet and froze.

  The mound barreled toward her.

  Horvuk took off, producing the most racket yet.

  The sand zombie was having none of it. The mound chugged toward her at a steady pace.

  Lou started to panic.

  Ahead, the creek bed was less than a stone’s throw away. She steeled herself. The zombie would turn about.

  Horvuk pounded the dune with his fists and scooped up handfuls of sand and flung them in the air as he also added lateral stomps to his obnoxious dance. Even Lou could feel the disturbance he was making through the sand.

  The zombie stopped but only for a second. It surged forward with astonishing speed.

  “No!” someone from the creek bed shouted.

  Lou spotted Nelson and Wizard Itzel standing at the edge of the desert. Hundreds of scrits crawled on the ground just behind Nelson. Oddly enough, the wizard’s hands and feet were tied, and Nelson held tight to a rope that was secured to the golem’s waist.

  Georgie must be out and about, she thought.

  Lou turned around.

  The zombie burst out of the sand. She took two steps and vaulted forward, narrowly dodging the creature’s claws. It fell back into the sand and submerged.

  Lou panicked. There was no mound bounding toward her. She had no idea where it was.

  Hugo called out to Lou to the right, but she didn’t take her eyes off the sand.

  Suddenly, the zombie sprang from the ground and fell on Lou, digging its claws in her sides. She thrashed and kicked at its sagging flesh as it howled.

  It snapped at her neck. She twisted out of the way at the last second. But the move sent her falling backward and she dropped the spear. The zombie landed atop her and looped one arm around her waist as it dug at the yielding ground.

  In seconds, Lou watched her view of the sky be covered up by sand. She closed her eyes and screamed with her mouth closed.

  Chapter 21

  Nelson Goes for a New Point of View

  Nelson awoke to an immense weight pressing down on his stomach. He lay on the ground with a fallen tree atop him. A rock outcropping to his right had prevented the tree from utterly crushing him. Despite being fairly pinned down, he managed to squirm about but couldn’t slide out from under the heavy trunk. He clawed at the dirt around his legs, thinking he could shovel out enough to wiggle himself free. Freedom eluded him. The ground was too firm and rocky. He soon gave up. He touched his face, his fingers feeling for his glasses. Miraculously, they hadn’t flown off in the blast and didn’t appear cracked or broken.

  Nelson recalled flying through the air and experiencing a large stone smacking him hard in the head. He saw several other trees leaning around him and spotted plenty of castle debris at the base of his own fallen tree. He coaxed out a working theory. Maybe he’d hit the dirt first, and the stones and wooden beams had pelted the forest, knocking several trees over. Although most of them were simply crooked, his one had actually made it to the ground.

  Several scrits approached, staring at him and blinking frequently, their thoughts on mounting a rescue.

  “Well, I don’t think there’s enough of you to move this off me.”

  He searched for his friends. No sign of Lou or Nelson. “Hello? Anyone here?”

  He clammed up, suddenly afraid that maybe Vua or her father had been flung into the woods, too. And what about the orc and the wizard? He knew the spirits were gone, having chosen to sacrifice themselves rather than let the baron strip them of their magical essence.

  A groan to his left made him twist his neck too fast, causing a branch to jab him in the ear. Luckily, it hadn’t entered his ear canal. It wouldn’t be good to rupture his ear drums. He swatted it away and rubbed at his ear lobe, bringing his fingers into view to find them streaked with blood. Rubbing his ear a second time yielded less blood and made him think it was a minor scratch.

  Two scrits jumped on his chest and pointed their twin tails in the direction of the moan.

  Nelson slowly turned his head and peered through the underbrush. He couldn’t see who it was.

  One of the scrits on his chest spun about and darted at Nelson’s chin, gently headbutting it.

  The lizards didn’t communicate as directly as the owl had.

  I’ll be your eyes. Enter my skull.

  Nelson thought he understood what the scrit was getting at. He concentrated, urging his consciousness to leave his body. He felt a wrenching and then a general lightness, as if he were floating before he spiraled down into the scrit’s head.

  His frame of reference was no longer his own. He stared at his chin from a very low angle.

  The creature jumped off Nelson’s body and charged through the grasses. The blades were as tall as houses and quite stiff, but the lizard knew how to plow through the vegetation and avoid being batted about by the thicker ones. Nelson was not in control of its body, but he could certainly see out. He was a passenger.

  The scrit scurried up and over a cluster of rocks and splashed through a small creek, or maybe a pond. It was going so fast that Nelson couldn’t tell much other than he cut through the water without having to swim. He reasoned that if the lizard’s legs could grip the ground, it must only be a few inches deep, so maybe a puddle.

  The lizard bounded over a rise and then down a steep slope of loose dirt and gravel. Nelson was experiencing more of the creature’s sense of touch the longer he stayed implanted. It was fascinating.

  His ride hit the brakes and skidded to a stop right when Nelson was starting to get a feel for the muscle movement needed to coordinate four legs and two tails.

  Wizard Itzel lay on his back. The wizard looked glassy-eyed at the scrit and half-smiled. He mumbled, “Hey, there. That you, Nelson?”

  The scrit nodded. Nelson was unsure if he’d had any influence in the head nodding but thought he had.

  The wizard stood and brushed debris off, mostly leaves and broken branches. His skin appeared very gray, and he moved slowly.

  Wizard Itzel looked around. “I’m badly dehydrated. Not sure if we’re near water, but I need some.”

  Nelson knew that water was critical. The golem could be immobilized and unable to help him out from under the tree if he didn’t get it fast.

  The wizard stepped toward the scrit, his movements jerky as if his feet were stuck in syrup.

  He wheezed out a ragged breath. “Afraid . . . I’m pretty . . . far gone.”

  Wizard Itzel stiffened in mid-stride. Caught off balance, he fell on his face. He weakly moved his arms and legs, until he eventually stopped.

  Nelson needed to get the golem’s body some water. He transmitted his plea to seek out water to the scrit, being careful not to present it as a demand.

  The lizard immediately bolted right and down a rocky slope. It threaded over a twisted mass of roots connected to a tree with orange bark. When it touched the roots, Nelson felt a jolt, as if he was being bucked out of the scrit’s head. He concentrated, and, with more effort, he stayed embedded.

  Maybe enlist some friends to bring water, too. Along with his mental request, Nelson sent the image of a squad of scrits lapping up water along a creek and racing it back to spit their cargo out on the golem.

  The scrit froze and then whipped its tails about as it warbled and croaked.

  In seconds, nearly a dozen of its fellows slinked into view.

  They tore off together, continuing down the slope.

  Nelson became aware of a peppery odor that the scrit stopped to seek out every once in a while. It would scan the forest smells, attuning to the pepper, and then head in that direction. Nelson worried the lizard hadn’t understood him and they’d wind up at a plant. He was about to urge it t
o refocus on finding water when he held off. He had to trust the scrit understood what he wanted. With Nelson not having a sophisticated sniffer, he had no idea what water smelled like. And for all he knew, scrits could be the elephants of this world and have the best sense of smell bar none.

  It made him nervous to put his faith in someone else, but he did just the same.

  The scent got stronger, and the sound of gurgling issued from dead ahead, just beyond a rise that the scrits scuttled over.

  Below was a small brook. It was well hidden by knee-high plants with triangular, purple leaves hugging both its banks. The scrits crawled through the distinctive vegetation. His ride took a good whiff, and Nelson realized the plants gave off the peppery odor. So they’d found water by sniffing out a specific plant the creatures knew grew along waterways. That was the most logical conclusion.

  The crit nodded and radiated satisfaction at a job well done.

  He realized his thoughts were mingling with the scrit, and it had likely received his theorizing about the plants. Nelson sent out high praise. You guys are impressive.

  The scrit did two tight circles and wagged its tails, a celebratory dance maybe?

  The lizards filled their mouths and then raced back up the hill.

  On the return trip, Nelson’s scrit avoided the roots that had seemed to mentally jostle Nelson. Had the lizard felt it as well?

  They reappeared alongside the golem and all spat their mouthfuls onto the wizard. They managed to get all his limbs and half his torso. Nelson’s lizard stayed while the rest disappeared to fetch refills.

  Minutes later, they returned and discharged their cargo, turning the last bits of gray to brown.

  The golem sat up and flexed his arms. The wizard made eye contact with Nelson’s scrit. He found it pretty incredible that the wizard could figure out which one held him inside as the lizards all looked so similar.

  “Thank you. Now lead the way to your body. I am assuming you aren’t able to move since you’ve borrowed this little guy to find me?”

  The scrit nodded and then took off.

  The wizard kept up, his movements growing more fluid with each stride as his freshly watered body moved with ever-increasing grace.

  As much grace as a short creature made of mud and sticks can muster, Nelson thought.

  Nelson wondered how pinned to the ground his real body looked, even worse than it actually was. Although, the tree likely weighed a ton.

  He concentrated and jumped from the scrit back into his body.

  Once again looking out from his own self, he gave the scrit a smile and unkinked his neck. “Thank you so much.”

  The scrit and its fellow lizards backed away, but stayed to watch. Nelson appreciated their loyalty. A few more scrits filtered in from around the woods, adding to their ranks as the wizard sized up the tree.

  He knocked on the dark brown bark and took in the scene from the rock outcropping. He patted the spot where the tree touched the tallest rock. “Very lucky this stopped it.”

  Nelson nodded. “Can you lift it with your magic?”

  “No, I used up too much summoning wards that protected us from the blast. That and I just can’t amass much magic in this body. If I were in my own, it would be no problem.”

  “So what do we do?”

  Wizard Itzel concentrated, clearly thinking about Nelson’s predicament. He vaulted off the rock and kneeled by Nelson’s waist, peering at the tree from underneath. He swept Nelson’s left leg back and forth along the ground as if testing its range of motion. “How attached are you to your lower half?”

  “Very.”

  The wizard chuckled. “Relax, just a little dismemberment humor. I see you’re not a fan.”

  Nelson didn’t say anything.

  A roar sounded, shattering the relative silence.

  The tree atop Nelson shifted downward, pressing into him a little more. He grunted and squirmed.

  At the base of the tree, the owner of the roar stood, pawing at the bark. It spotted Nelson and Wizard Itzel and roared again, the outburst tinged with much more anger.

  The roar was likely not any more intense than the first one, but it seemed that way because Nelson took in the beast’s gaping maw, lined with sharp teeth, on the second go around.

  “A briguv.” The wizard looked at Nelson. “Pretty equivalent to a grizzly bear where you’re from. More carnivore than omnivore, so don’t go thinking that tossing him a few berries will appease him.”

  The animal had shaggy red and brown fur streaked with yellow stripes running vertically along its back. Its dark face was flatter than a bear’s and more rounded. Tusks protruded from its cheeks, and loose skin drooped from each eye. With its next roar, it shook its head, sending the loose skin flapping in a way that made Nelson sick to his stomach. He tried to ignore the bile rising in his throat. He hadn’t thrown up since first grade and wasn’t about to today.

  “It’s probable he’ll add you to the dinner menu as most meat eaters aren’t keen on my muddy constitution.”

  Given the circumstances, Nelson didn’t appreciate the sarcasm from the wizard. “We have to do something.”

  The briguv traveled on all fours along the tree, causing it to dig deeper into his stomach. He sucked in his gut to alleviate some of the pressure and was dismayed at the growing numbness in his lower half.

  “We? No, this falls squarely on you. My magic isn’t up to the task, remember? I think you know what has to happen.”

  The briguv roared again and charged, each impacting paw rocking the tree even more.

  The wizard was testing him, pushing him to find a solution, something he excelled at. Think, Nelson. It was an animal, like the scrits and the owl. He could reason with it.

  He pushed his thoughts at the briguv, ignoring the generous amounts of drool sailing free of its open mouth. Hey, how about neither of us do anything rash?

  The beast skidded to a stop, its long claws creating deep gouges in the bark. Its expression shifted to perplexed.

  I’m in need of your help. And I’m not all that tasty. Rather stringy, mostly bone. He realized his thoughts were a little sarcastic, as if he were channeling Hugo’s mindset. He decided to run with that. It wasn’t his strong suit, but, if he thought in terms of how Hugo would react, it seemed less tricky.

  You can speak with me?

  Yes, it’s called telepathy. I think you showing up right now is supposed to happen. You can hurl this tree aside and free me.

  The briguv considered the idea. That would make it easier to get to your tender underbelly.

  Look, this is a very important milestone in your life and mine.

  How so? I mean, you said yourself you aren’t much in the way of nourishment. And you claimed you were bland. The beast resumed moving, placing its paws with more care as the tree was growing thinner, making it easier for its wobbly bulk to slide off.

  First contact between man and briguv. That’s significant.

  It paused and scratched at its chin. Is that what you call us?

  He could tell from the creature’s tone and how its one eye twitched that it didn’t like the name. Nelson hiked a thumb at the wizard. Well I’m visiting from another dimension. This native wizard says that’s what you guys go by.

  I can’t say I like it. What would you call my species? Your fresh take would be appreciated.

  Nelson thought about it. He sensed that if the animal liked his choice, he might be spared. The beast wanted something more sensational. He decided to stall and test the waters, hoping he could gauge the creature’s reaction in order to concoct the perfect name. It would require him reading its face and trying to figure out the underlying emotions, something Nelson only excelled at with Tally-Ho, an animal he’d known for years.

  Well, are all your people such impressive specimens? Like, are they wall-to-wall muscles like yourself?

  Most of us. Cousin Ikg is lacking in that area, but what do you expect from the runt of the litter. The beast peeled off a
long strip of bark and sat on its haunches. It used the bark to scratch at its back.

  I suspect you’re quite swift and brutal, that not much evades you when you set your mind to the matter.

  That’s true. We’re very driven to eat. It arched both eyebrows and licked its lips. You’d be amazed by the daily intake required to maintain my striking figure.

  Nelson didn’t like its green tongue.

  And does your species keep such care of their furry hides and refined claws? Oh, and fine teeth. Don’t want to omit those.

  We do.

  Even your cousin?

  Yes. It smiled, pleased by the mention of the relative. He’s really not that bad. He has attended all my initiations.

  And have you had a lot of initiations?

  It held up both paws. More than these can count.

  Nelson felt he had a good handle on the briguv. It wanted to be recognized. The amount of back and forth between them was the longest conversation he’d had with anyone in a while. Normally, this much socializing tired him out. For some reason, he felt energized.

  Probably because I have the solution, he thought to himself.

  Nelson looked at the wizard, who appeared rather impatient, all things considered. Why did the golem have his arms crossed and stare with such intensity?

  The beast progressed the last few feet along the tree and hopped off. It drew up next to Nelson and poked him in the side with a knuckle rather than a claw. Time’s up. Do you have a new name for my people?

  I do.

  It cocked its head and delivered an expression almost as impatient as the Wizard Itzel’s. Well?

  Your fur is so striking and there’s so much of it. And you have so many deadly tools at your disposal. Here goes. How about strike shadow fiend?

  The beast considered the name.

  Nelson was uncertain if it was impressed. He hastily added to his answer. Now that’s for your species, but I also have a title for you.

  I do like titles. What? The beast traced its claw along Nelson’s right arm, being careful not to slice into his skin.

  Ultimate Renderer of Flesh and Fluids and Master of Gorging.

  The strike shadow fiend smiled quite . . . fiendishly. It sighed and licked its lips. Wonderful title. I love the nod to gorging. I’m quite a fan of that. Renderer is a little clunky, but I’ll take it.