Crown of Horns

by Alex Sapegin

  The morning freshness and the first rays of the sun beat the featherbed covering the mountain terrace and a small lake of dense fog, the milky cloud of which, yielding to the dawn, gradually thinned, broke into shreds, and slid from the slopes. The daylight, rising upwards, made the snow caps of an enormous mountain sparkle, along the gentle slope of which, like giant steps, dozens of forested terraces descended downward.

  Andy woke up from the morning freshness which covered the motionless body in a plump layer of dew. The uncomfortable pose his body had been in for the last few hours left his hands and feet numb and his back like a wooden plank. His neck was completely disinclined to turn to the left or the right. Immersing himself in settage helped. Cracking like an old man, Andy stood up.

  “I’m lucky, actually. All those who’ve made that trip before me and drowned ought to be envious!” He mumbled, glancing around. “Suck it!”

  Andy didn’t know whether the goddesses were on his side or not—but he wasn’t planning on giving up. Listen, Fate: you’re barking up the wrong tree! I didn’t live through the pain of the Incarnation and lose my loved ones to just throw up my hands now! The world is full of mana. Therefore, there’s gotta be a way to get my wings and my magic back…. It could be worse.

  What do I know about Nelita? It’s a very apt time to recall everything Jagirra told me. So what if it’s been three thousand years since she left her homeland. The main facts ought to be still current. Under these skies there are a few intelligent races living side by side, and the dragons play the first violin. Who else? Elves, and I know humans and orcs, were brought over from Ilanta; there’s also some miurs and sogots. Mom mentioned these races, but she didn’t think it was important to expand on how exactly they differ from elves or humans. What the rest of the locals look like and whether they’re tasty—I’ll have to find out as I go along. Yep, that’s it, alright—unless of course I get eaten first.

  Jagirra said she studied at the university, which means there are cities and states on this planet. Educational institutions can’t be associated with anything else. Most likely, the two worlds aren’t that different. Andy scoffed—he would really have to rely on this assumption. His lack of knowledge of the basic rules and customs could turn out a proper mess, often a bloody one, which Andy was basing on his own sad experience. He didn’t want to keep stepping on the same rakes over and over…

  He picked some herbs and collected something like bast from them. He waded into the warm water up to his knees, then began furiously rubbing and scrubbing from his skin all the dirt and dried blood. When he was done with most of his bathing, Andy rinsed his face and, waiting for the ripples to subside, carefully examined his reflection in the dark water. His eyes hadn’t changed, but that couldn’t be said for the rest of him. He was skin and bones. His nocturnal attempt to change hypostasis had stripped him of a good ten or twelve pounds. The energy for the transformation was taken directly from the muscle tissue. It was a bad idea. Andy looked at his reflection and thought about his elvish hypostasis. Should he try it? After standing there motionless for a few minutes, he decided not to tempt fate. First, he’d better get something to eat (hopefully something plentiful) and accumulate some mana. Once he rubbed the green grassy stains off his arms, his tattoo became very noticeable. The golden dragon had lost all its charm and color. A pale blotch remained; there was nothing left of the image that had been drawn by the Lady of the Sky. You could barely tell it was a dragon; the runes had disappeared completely. How interesting. As it turned out, he wasn’t the only one beaten down by life right now. If his sudden conjectures were correct, Jagirra had poured a hefty portion of mana into the tattoo and created a magical connection to the adornment’s owner. The “bearer’s” lack of mana and his losing the ability to do magic immediately took its toll on his “rider.” It was a good indicator of his state/mana levels, by the way. He would use that in the future. Without mana, his chances of surviving in a foreign world had plummeted. It was hard to imagine himself as the victor over tough circumstances when his unforeseeable events had stripped him of all he had.

  But what did he have? Was anything left? Nothing except his hands, feet, and head, which contained some gray matter. If he had a little more of it, he would have thought twice—thrice—about experimenting with portal magic.

  There was nothing else to boast of. His last voyage from Earth to Ilanta had been luckier than this one. Then, he at least had some clothes on his back and a penknife. This time he was buck-naked, although bragging about his rear end would have been a bit inappropriate. He had no magic. When his abilities would come back, or if they would at all, he couldn’t say. No money, no weapons. The only thing he still did have was true vision, but what use was that?

  What should his next steps be? First of all, he had to get something heavy, preferably a club. Then find humans, and then go from there…

  The dark smooth surface of the lake became covered with thousands of reflective sparkles, but no one was there to admire the play of light on the water. Snapping out of his reverie, the young man quenched his thirst, finished cleaning the blood and dirt off himself, and left the inhospitable shore. Having figured out his first priorities, Andy set out to find some suitable material for a club.

  * * *

  “Oh, come on!” A stone with a sharp edge cracked and split into two unequal pieces. “Targ!” Andy swore.

  It was the third boulder to break to pieces in the last twenty minutes. Andy sat down on the edge of an uprooted tree, from which he had for a good hour now been trying to extract a length of the root, but the dead tree turned out to be stronger than stone. The root, which looked something like a club or a flanged mace, attracted him with its coarseness and sharp protrusions. It was a sin to pass by an accidental miracle of nature. Sin or not, the dead tree stubbornly refused to part with even a small part of itself. It seemed that nothing could be simpler: break off a chunk and stamp it, but the fallen tree begged to differ with Andy’s initial assessment, showing him that such mistakes are punishable by hard labor. Andy, proving to the forest the difference between a naked man and a naked monkey, with perseverance worthy of a woodpecker, continued to hammer on the piece of wood. After all, what’s the main difference between the first person and the last monkey? You can talk a lot about this topic, but the first difference is a stick clenched in a tight fist. You can even further rant that the stick was the first tool of labor, but one thing is certain: it was one of the first tools of murder.

  The “little rod” Andy was interested in would hardly have suited for loosening the earth in search of grubs, but you could use it to give someone a good thump on the head. What else could he do? His karma was such that he ended up in the woods. Wandering through the wild thickets in Adam’s garb was not quite comme il faut. Who knew what the local animals were like? He’d had more than enough encounters with hungry kitties in the past. He had no desire to sit, hugging his knees, under the hot rays of the sun and wait to become food for the mrowns or griffins. What if here too the carnivorous creatures had an irresistible gastronomic interest in bipedal inhabitants? The broken truncheon wouldn’t add any rags around his waist and couldn’t warm him on cold nights, but it warmed the soul. The main thing is that the club not be too heavy.

  If he could trust his senses, the average Earthling or citizen of Ilanta should be a bit stronger than the average native Nelitan. He was basing that guess on how easy it was to move. Gravity must be of lesser force here than on the planet he’d left due to his own stupidity. It was a subtle difference, but enough to allow him to draw certain conclusions. It was entirely possible that this was exactly why the dragons did not colonize their cosmic neighbor. Flying under one’s own skies was easier; they were lighter, and he could fly faster. Andy looked in the sky and clenched his jaw. What an evil twist of fate, to give him wings and then take them away…

  “I guess this’ll do.” He picked up another cobblestone and tossed it in his hand. “Third time i
s a charm,” thought Andy, hitting the root. The sun climbed to the zenith, knocking a profuse sweat from the portal jumper. Streams of sweat ran down his broad back. If only I could plunge into the morning coolness…

  Crack—the third stone broke. Crack—the root broke off, unable to withstand the beating. Andy, planted one foot on the trunk above the stone-beaten fibers, grabbed below the wide crack with both hands, and pulled the lower part to himself with all his might. The tree could not withstand the last jerk. A dry click and the stubborn club that remained in the man’s hands announced the victory of reason and perseverance over nature. However, the victory did not prevent him falling on his rear end as he went flying back when the root gave way and getting few splinters.

  The club was pleasantly heavy in his hand. Andy turned the “instrument” side to side. Wish I could burn the filamented end, but it’ll work just as is, too. Let’s hope I find people sooner than I have to use this thing! Although, could be…. Andy looked at the primitive weapon carefully. I might need this to defend myself from humans or other intelligent creatures. They’re a bit more threatening than predators. My own sad experience has shown…

  * * *

  Walking around barefoot in the woods isn’t the nicest way to pass one’s time. Andy wasn’t afraid of sharp stones or sticks; his heightened regeneration took great care of small wounds and cuts, but how would it deal with getting bitten by some poisonous beast? Springing over fallen trees and logs or pushing overgrown large-leaf plants away with his chest, he stepped on large insects a couple times. Thank the Twins, none of the ones he happened to crush turned out to be poisonous. A few times he caught a glimpse of brightly colored two-tailed snakes. Their creeping bodies split into two about two-thirds of the way down.

  The woods were unusual—to put it lightly. His surroundings were more like tropics. There were huge fern-like plants, creepers, wide burdock in several tiers, tall trees of three or four arm-lengths around with multicolored foliage, moss hanging from branches like long beards, and the spicy smell of thousands of flowering plants. The bright colors everywhere were striking. The roar of strange insects, the screeching of birds in the sky, the shrill cries of unseen animals, the crackling, grunting, and flatulence. The forest lived an active life. It was indifferent to a small bipedal bug such as himself.

  Something white appeared ahead. Andy clenched the club more comfortably. Hmmm. Either he’d met the first intelligent creature, or he missed something. What beast would hang a white veil between the trees? On the right, there was a muffled snapping—a bad sound, alarming. It seemed he really made a mistake in his evaluation of the situation. Now the clicks, accompanied by quiet footsteps, were heard from the left side. This was not good, not at all good. Ten yards ahead of Andy, the thick burdock-like leaves started swinging. He heard more clicks. The answer did not take long to present itself. A quiet tapping and the patter of paws now came from all sides.

  Now you’ve done it, walked right into their trap like a rabbit in a snare. Someone decided to bite him, not even bothering to ask permission from the naked natural scientist. The “snack,” stepping carefully, backed up against a fat tree. At least that way they couldn’t come at him from behind.

  No matter how much Andy prepared for the attack, he still almost missed the spider jumping at him out of the green carpet. It wouldn’t be appropriate to call the monster a simple insect. The miracle of nature was the size of a bull terrier. It had six powerful hairy legs instead of the usual eight, and two eyes on thick stems. Otherwise, the “spider” wasn’t fundamentally different from its earthly counterparts.

  Time slowed down. Obeying his intuition, Andy fell to the ground. In the same instant, the five jumping beasts appeared over the bushes. Long bundles of cobwebs flew over the “game’s” head. The first monster, legs drawn in close to its body, landed five feet from Andy. The evil creature clicked its pincers. Only a quick reaction saved the were-dragon from its spitting cobwebs into his face. Take that! A blow with the club sent the spitter flying to the ground. Stinking slimy guts splashed out from its crushed belly in all directions. The spider jerked its limbs a couple of times and fell still. An invisible spring threw Andy upwards. Just in time! The spot where he stood a couple of moments ago was covered with arachnid spittle.

  Targ! It felt like a lash had struck him on the back. The six-legged scoundrel that had climbed the tree trunk had a better aim than his fellows. A-a-ah! He’d become a human target for the spiders’ expectorating contest. Contorting his lips in pain, he turned around in the air. The tip of the club broke the spider’s two front paws and tore off one of its eyes. The wounded creature fell to the ground and went into convulsions. A second blow, on the return swing, sent it to its forefathers.

  Landing, Andy immediately jumped back behind the tree trunk for cover. A few cobweb-loogies hit the bark, but he didn’t quite make it in time to avoid them all. The tip of the searing spider web lashed across his left cheek. It immediately swelled up, along with his left eye, as from an allergic reaction to a bee sting. The spiders did not think of letting the quick prey go so easily. Several six-legged beasts charged toward the tree. Despite the pain in his back and his swollen left eye, Andy jumped out from behind the trunk and cracked the hunter on the head, landing in the center of a fern-like plant. Fire burned his right leg. A thin whitish band in a snap wound around his ankle and shin. The spitting creature, lifting its front paws and rising on its hind legs, prepared a second portion of the poisonous web, but it apparently did not expect the biped to move so quickly. In memory of its fellows, the monster remained with raised front legs, because its rear end was beaten into the ground. Half the cephalothorax, with lifeless dangling eye-stems, was all that remained on the surface, along with raised front legs, like a surrendering soldier. Letting another batch of the poisonous spittle pass overhead, Andy fell to the ground, then got up, still very much in the game despite his injuries. A spider-shaped jumper rose up above the bushes. One powerful blow with the club sent it flying. Having lost one more companion, the spiders decided that the prey was not worth the effort and retreated towards the white veil, which in fact was a snare net for small birds.

  Finally left alone, drained of all strength, the were-dragon plopped to the ground. He was extremely lucky that the poisonous web had not affected him the way the six-legged hunters were counting on; otherwise, he would have long-since been a white cocoon, swaddled arms, legs and all. His left eye was numb, his cheek swollen as from a cruel insect bite, and his leg and back burned with a hellish flame. The spiders had won, essentially. The battle was theirs. Only a few peculiarities of the loser’s physiognomy allowed him to leave the battlefield in one piece, not in the spiders’ stomachs. The dragon’s blood flowing through his veins gave him immunity to lots of poisons. If only it could make him immune to the pain…

  It was time to book it out of there. Please Twins, don’t let the beasts challenge him to a re-match or go get backup. Who knew? Maybe that was one of their behaviors. Andy was not inclined to conduct an experiment, with his own neck on the line. All the less so since he had never heard of insects hunting as a pack… not counting ants, of course. Ants… ooh! It would be funny if on Nelita they’re as big as these brutes!

  * * *

  He was hungry. His empty stomach began to look carnivorously at his spine, especially since it had been sticking to it for a long time. After his encounter with the spiders, no local and preferably edible creatures were found within reach. Birds preferred to stay closer to the crowns of trees; the other creatures supported the birds with all their hearts. Animals similar to koalas, running from branch to branch in the middle tier of the forest, upon seeing the stranger, immediately started to squeal, emptied their bowels of their contents and hid in the dense foliage. What the “koalas” fed on was a mystery, but the stuff they defecated out of themselves stank unmercifully. The spiders’ guts seemed to give off the aroma of pink petals by comparison. It would have been one thing if the
“bears” were just pooping. But with their shouts, they warned the rest of the forest inhabitants about the danger. A couple of times, Andy saw fleecy herds of small deer—maybe not deer, but something similar. Once he heard something big trample through the bushes not far off. Judging by the tracks they left, the size of the creatures’ claws could compete with dragons’ claws. By the way, about that—several times, Andy caught a glimpse of characteristic silhouettes in the sky.

  Judging by his internal clock, this was already the seventh hour of walking on foot. Andy made his way past two natural “terraces.” There was a convenient descent from the first; the second was overcome by a strong and rather long vine. He never found a single trace of a person or other intelligent being. No path, no road, no abandoned fireplace. It was virgin territory, unburdened by civilization.

  Andy stopped near a little spring which flowed from between the roots of a tree with a reddish-brown bark and long blade-like leaves. He drank with pleasure. His teeth hurt from the cold, but nothing in the world can match the taste of the purest spring water. Springs always smell of life. The water somewhat calmed his stomach. It detached itself from his spine, but promised to return. The owner of the body carefully examined the trees: no fruits worthy of attention or any that might, despite the risk of diarrhea, satisfy his hunger. What a pity! My stomach returned to my spine quicker than I walked away from that spring!