And a strange event occurred before his eyes. A step of stone grew out of the wall of the mountain beneath his feet. Letting go of his hold above, he dropped down two inches onto the ledge below as a series of steps going upward slowly formed and led up to the surface of the trail. Climbing the steps, he noticed many cracks and crevices that had the unlikely form of faces in the side of the mountain.
“Thanks, fellas,” Crush commented in jest to the silent stony faces as he knelt down to rest for a moment and to collect his composure. After all, falling from off a cliff was not a normal daily occurrence for him.
“No problem. Just be more careful from now on,” replied a deep, gravelly voice.
“Who said that!” Crush cried out and spun around to see where the voice had come from. To his surprise, no one was on either side of him on the ledge. He looked above and below, and still he saw no one.
“It’s me, of course. How quickly you do forget the one who saved you!” said the voice.
“Oh, come now. Treat the poor mortal with some manners Carbane,” replied a gentler, but still gravelly voice.
“Indeed, we have never had the pleasant experience of falling from our own ledges,” said a third voice. “Sir, are you a falling rock?”
“Nonsense. Rocks are thoughtful and graceful pieces of us, and they only fall when we scratch our heads. A nasty, tunneling insect this is,” added a fourth voice. “Let’s push it off of us.” At this last voice’s suggestion, Crush spoke up as he realized where the sound must be coming from, though he could scarcely believe what his senses were telling him. Still, as the conversation about him had taken a nasty turn, he could not afford to remain silent any longer.
“No please, I beg you! I mean you no harm,” Crush said to the cliff face. “My intention is to go to the bottom of this ledge and then to travel to that other mountain in the distance,” he replied to the bodiless voices.
“You see. We should have let him get to the bottom without interfering,” said a fifth voice.
“Oh no! No, you did the right thing by stopping my fall, and I appreciate that,” Crush interrupted the voice and explained.
“Dear, me. The insect is just that, my friends. An insignificant insect that is merely on its way to our brother, Scalus,” proclaimed the fifth voice. Crush’s ears perked up when he heard the name of the mountain, Scalus, though he could not help but feel a bit of anger rise up within himself at the comparison to an insect.
“Thank you again for saving me, but I am not an insect, and I am not insignificant. I am a man who values life,” Crush explained in irritation. He did not feel the need however to further explain his feline attributes to the mountainside anymore than he would have to a stranger on the street.
“Oh, dear, you see there, Boulder. You have gone and hurt the poor man’s feelings,” spoke a soft, deep voice. “There, there, little man. We meant you no harm or disrespect.”
“And do you realize,” Crush continued, “that there is a prince who has burrowed a deep hole within your backside. He has also captured many other innocent people like myself and imprisoned them within your very crevices.” At this point, Crush was as animated as he had ever been in his passion of telling the story of his capture and escape from the mountain. When he had finished, all was silent on the mountainside, and Crush waited for a reply from the stones. None came. Finally, he spoke again and apologized for his rather sharp behavior, and the mountain replied.
“We understand what you are feeling, Mr. Crush. The Old Men of the Mountain have been around for many eons, and we have watched carefully the workings of this world. We are dense, but do not take us for granite. What you have told us we know to be true. The people inside of the mountain have waited for a little hero like yourself, and though you seem to be less than our expectations of a hero, it is quite clear to us, the Five Old Men of the Mountain, that you will have to do.
“We are familiar with the prince which you speak of. He is a malevolent being who has reigned many decades in this land. To the mountains, he and his kind would be nothing more than pests at best. Of late though, their digging has delved deeper than we would be comfortable and content with.”
“Aren’t the people only digging for gold?” asked Crush, curious now to learn more about the green people under the mountain.
“At first, yes. The prince himself was born of the mixing of a green dwarf and the Queenmother, and though the prince now rules a portion of the underground, the Queenmother has never given up her quest for power and beauty. For most, the accumulation of gold would be enough, but she has issued a demand that the prince should pierce the Soul of the Mountain where our life force dwells.”
“I’ve met the prince, Argentine, and though he did mention her, I’m not familiar yet with the Queenmother. Nor did I see her within the mines,” Crush added.
“She resides in her home above the mines, and she lets her child, the prince, do her chore of finding the Soulof the Mountain.”
“The Soul of the Mountain? What will she do with it?”
“The question my friend is: what can’t she do with it? The Soul is a part of our life force, and we are ancient and ambivalent toward men, yet we are not what you would name evil. We have rarely taken sides in this world, and we have usually regretted it when we have. We are one of many creations, and we believe that all creations have an equal value to the Creator, good or evil. Power was not divided equally, and as we stand above our surroundings, our power has been a beacon. If that power is usurped by a lesser being such as the Queenmother, she may find that she is mighty indeed,” proclaimed the Five.
“So then, I can count on you for help?” Crush requested in hopes that they could team together to find the dragon’s tooth and free the people of the mountain.
“It is not up to us to provide assistance in battle,” the Old Men explained.
“What?! If you don’t help me, then you are helping the people to remain slaves within the mountain,” Crush expounded passionately.
“Help you?!” the mountain groaned in anger. “You would be at the bottom of the cliff if we had not intervened! Perhaps we have helped too much already,” the mountain grumbled in answer.
“You’re right. I owe you an apology,” Crush replied. “I’m sorry. I only wish to make you aware that I cannot complete the tasks set forth without your help.” At that moment, a roar rose up from the forest below, and Crush felt a sense of dread at what lay ahead. “What is out there, in the forest?”
“Giants, and they feed upon the animal base of the forest. We have doubts that you will survive the trek to Scalus Mountain through the forest alone. In the past, we have been content to let travelers do as they will, and none have ever returned.” Crush took the mountain’s advice to heart.
“I knew I was not the first, and by your judgment, I will not be the last,” Crush replied. “Will you not at least guide me?” he requested. At the inquiry, all was silent on the mountainside for a moment, and then the mountain began to groan in consideration. Pebbles tumbled down the cliff face, and Crush began to fear a rockslide may throw him from the ledge. But as the moments passed, the groaning eased, and the mountain spoke once again.
“You have made your request well, and we have found that it has merit. In the past when aid was given, we sent a favorite creation of our own to do the work. Most regretful. Though none of our kind have done such a thing before, one of us will accompany you on your journey.” Excitement raced through Crush at the thought of an ancient being walking side by side with him. “Boulder shall go with you.” Crush’s hope sank like a stone. It was Boulder who had compared him to an insect, and Crush stood in disbelief at the choice.
As doubt and despair fought faith and hope inside Crush, small stones shook loose from the side of the mountain, rolling together and merging on the ledge with Crush. A form began to take shape, two arms, two legs, hips, a chest, shoulders, and a head, all made of stone.
Then the ignaceous form began to move where joints would be found in a human, as if a morning stretch were in order. Boulder held his hands before his coal black eyes, and one by one he extended and contracted each of his fingers into the shape of a fist. Soon the stone figure had taken its first steps, and Crush realized that he was the first to witness such an event in recorded history.
“If I didn’t believe my eyes, I would think I was stoned,” said Crush.
“What?” Boulder groaned.
“Never mind. Are you ready to go?” Crush asked anxiously.
“Yes,” said Boulder as he stretched his legs and started down the mountain. Crush fell in behind him.
“Rock on,” Crush added with a smile. They trudged down the long mountain path, circling and recircling for almost a mile before Crush dared to ask anymore questions of the strange rock creature. When the urge to know was too great, he finally asked. “Boulder, right? How much further to the bottom?” he queried as he looked over the edge to the trees way down below.
“We have a measurable distance, perhaps two miles of ledge to make it to the bottom where the forest lies,” Boulder answered without slowing down. It did not appear to Crush that conversation was a high priority for the elemental, and since he had referred to Crush as an insect earlier at the cliff face, Crush did not expect much from him. And this brought even more questions to Crush’s mind. Why had the mountain face with the most negative attitude taken humanoid form to help him? Was there more to this individual than was evident? After all, only one of the Old Men had agreed to show the way. Perhaps Crush should not be so quick to accept any further help, but maybe he should instead proceed upon the journey alone. So many doubts and so many questions were swirling in his mind that he hardly noticed when Boulder held out his hand for him to stop in his tracks.
“Get behind me! Quick!” Boulder shouted and backed up against the cliff wall, leaving a crack for Crush to climb into and hide. Before Crush could react to the Boulder’s request, a shadow covered the two climbers. Crush spun around to see a large object blocking the sun, and when a pair of talons snatched him about the midsection, he was pulled off the ledge and into the air. As quick as a flash, Boulder launched himself from the ledge and grasped the tail feathers of what could only be described as an oversized avian predator.
###
Next Issue
Will Crush survive his capture by the colossal feathered predator, or will he become bird food?! Will Pound free the enslaved people of the mountain, or will he become entangled in their tragedy?! Join Crush and Pound as they fight just to stay alive in the struggles of this new world of insects, giants, and a dragon!!
About the Author
Christopher Carter is an engineer by day, and transforms into a writer and artist by night. He lives with his wife and cat in central North Carolina.
Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 6 Page 5
