Andrew and the Quest of Orion's Belt (Rise of the Fallen)

by Ivory Autumn

  Chapter Five

  Treason

  Just as the slaves exited the collapsed mine, the Sontars were quick to greet them and herd the slaves that looked strongest back into another open mine, never letting them rest, never letting them recover, never letting them think they were free for one moment.

  “It’s time you dirty brats learn the meaning of work,” a merciless Sontar cried, shoving Andrew, Freddie, Talic and the freed slaves onto unstable platform. The platform was slowly lowered back down into another coal pit, immersing them in a sheet of darkness. Once at the bottom, Andrew stood, blinking as his eyes grew accustom to the darkness. The smell of coal dust was stifling. He shivered in the cold. Gloomy torches lined the walls of the dark endless tunnels, where Sontars stood ready, watching the children like hungry vultures.

  “Over there!” A Sontar ordered, pointing down the tunnel. “Start shoveling coal into the bins, you worthless shadows.”

  The slaves were handed small shovels. Then they were pushed like cogs of a machine into a long row, where they shoveled the dirty coal into little carts.

  As Andrew worked, he thought wistfully of the tired slaves who had just escaped from being suffocated to death, only to be suffocated by another power. Was there no end to this? If the slaves were too slow, the Sontars would crack down hard on their backs with stinging whips. Row after row of children shoveled coal, up and down, in and out. The repetition was mind-deadening, and the strain on their already tired shoulders and arms was too much.

  Andrew's mind grew numb. How long had they been working in this horrible, black pit? Here, it was always night, always cold, always damp. Had he rescued these slaves from death only to be condemned to live in eternal night?

  While Andrew had been working, every so often, he'd notice something lurking in the shadows of the cave that would lash out and whip one of the passers by. Weeks of passing by this certain dark wall, where an unseen enemy awaited had taken its toll on Andrew. It angered him to know that an unseen tormenter lurked in the shadows waiting for him every time he passed.

  The hidden creature stirred at Andrew's hard gaze. Andrew smiled to himself, glad that he was causing the creature discomfort as he continued to gaze in its direction. As the minutes passed, the creature grew more irritable and more agitated. Without warning, the thing jerked from its always hidden position and cracked its whip across Andrew's arm, pulling him to the ground.

  “Stare at me again like that,” the being cried, “and I'll whip you so hard that your flesh falls from your bones!”

  Andrew yelped, cowering before the beast, angry that he did not stand up, and face his enemy head on. Had he overcome one form of despair and powerlessness to be overtaken by yet another force so much stronger than himself.

  The being laughed in short hiccupping gulps, “Get back to work, you slave!" The being shouted, walking in front of a low-burning torch, silhouetting the creature so that its ugliness was visible to all.

  Andrew stared at it with fascinated disgust. It was a Trolim, a creature they’d only heard about in old story books. It was a small being, with transparent, purple skin, big bulgy eyes, and hair like coarse sagebrush, with big ears that drooped down almost to the floor.

  The creature greatly disliked being stared at, for when eyes were upon him nothing was hidden---even its repulsive, little heart thumping against its chest. Clear purplish slobber dribbled from its mouth and its eyes bulged.

  “Stop looking at me!” the Trolim screeched, blowing spit all over Andrew. “Stop looking at me! STOP!”

  “Why, it looks as naked as a fish egg!” Talic exclaimed, laughing and pointing at the creature.

  Before Talic had a chance to expound any further, the Trolim let out a horrific squeal and cracked its whip over Talic's back so hard that it made him drop the bucket of coal he'd been carrying. The Trolim raised the whip again. “I’ll kill you, boy!”

  When the Trolim said that, something snapped inside Andrew. Before the whip cracked down on his friend, Andrew caught the lash mid air on his own arm, and yanked it away from the beast.

  “Get back in line, you dirty soot-slave!” the Trolim cried, madder than ever

  Andrew smiled, feeling suddenly powerful. This little beast actually looked afraid of him. Andrew cracked the creature in the belly with the Trolim's own whip, causing its belly to jiggle up and down like clear jelly in a jam jar.

  “Help!” the Trolim screamed, leaping for a torch on the side of the wall, its transparent body glowing as orange as a pumpkin from the flickering glow.

  The Trolim grabbed the torch and waved it in front of Andrew. The beast hissed and showed a mouthful of sharp little teeth that dripped in purple spit. “Touch me, you die!”

  Andrew shook his head and raised the whip high, knocking the torch away from the Trolim. The Trolim let out a yelping screech, and clambered onto Andrew's back, sinking its sharp teeth into the soft skin of Andrew's neck.

  Andrew cried out in pain and anger, ramming his back against the side of the tunnel. The Trolim's body bulged, like a frog egg being squished between two fingers. Andrew rammed his back against the back of the wall again, and again, only to have the Trolim dig its teeth further into Andrew’s flesh.

  “Let go!” Andrew yelled, grabbing the Trolim by its white tail and squeezing as hard as he could. As Andrew squeezed he felt heat shoot through his hands, and fire burn through his fingers as if an electrical current had run through it.

  "AGGG!" The Trolim's whole frame quaked as if he'd been shocked by Andrew’s touch. "It burnssss. IT BURNSSS!"

  Andrew let go of the beast's tail, and the Trolim fell to the ground, twitching and moaning. The Trolim's tail shriveled into a dark piece of dry jerky that oozed purple goo. And sprouting out of the goo were tender green vines, that twisted and waved as he waggled his backside.

  Andrew dropped to his knees, holding out his hands, staring at them with amazement. The heat that had run through them felt so powerful, so much so that it had burned his own palms, causing large blisters to form over the glowing diamond marks.

  The Sontars who had watched the whole thing, from a ways off, swarmed around him, hissing and spitting.

  “Is he dead?” a Sontar asked, looking at the Trolim, then at Andrew accusingly.

  The prostrate Trolim suddenly stopped its convulsing twitching, and slowly stood up, unharmed except for the strange vine replacing his tail. The Trolim looked at Andrew, hatefully. “Kill it, you beasts! It’s a despicable thing! It's ruined my tail. Kill it, kill it! Get rid of it. It is an enemy to The Fallen himself, an enemy to Morack, an enemy to you!”

  Sontars crowded around Andrew, hemming him in on all sides. No one dare touch his hands. Andrew smiled, feeling powerful. “Get away from me," he warned, "or perhaps, I’ll turn you into a weed.” Just as Andrew said that, a Sontar seized him from behind by his dark hair, and dragged him from the cave.

  “Treason, treason!” the little Trolim shouted, jumping up and down, following them out of the pit. “Kill it, kill it!”