Being the Suun

by J. A. Culican

  We made a mad, unorganized dash for the lowering gate, but even so, they didn’t notice us until it was too late.

  “Hey,” someone I couldn’t see shouted. “Stop them!”

  The gate was halfway down when I dropped to my knees and crawled beneath, followed by Erik and Estrid, and finally Savarah, who barely made it, sliding through on her back with barely an inch to spare. The bars slammed into their iron bases, the guards safe on the other side. I watched them for a moment, trapped in their own prison, and they looked back, all of them wide-eyed with fear. Not for themselves, I realized. For us.

  I turned and beheld . . .

  What?

  It was no monster I had ever seen before. A tree come to life. Its long body was covered in bark-like armor, and its branches were its arms and legs, sharpened to points that dug into the rock, cracking and spewing up bits of wood as they drove it forward. It wasn’t made for climbing, which explained why we’d never seen it so high on the cliffs before. Its progress was slow, one step forward and a slide back, but it was still moving forward, still gaining ground.

  But it wasn’t coming for us or Barepost’s gate. It was trailing two other figures, human in size and shape, up the side of the cliff just overhead. Two figures who, while obviously quick and strong, were not equipped to deal with it, barely able to keep out of reach of its pincers. If they had made it to Barepost before the bars came down, they would have stood a chance, but now . . .

  “We can help them,” Erik said, his hand already on his sword.

  “Or we can use them as bait,” Savarah offered, that bland, secret smile on her face as if she were enjoying watching the two struggle. “Keep it distracted while we get around to the other side.”

  Estrid tilted her head as if considering the idea, her eyes also on the pair.

  I, on the other hand, had already resigned myself to what we had to do. I knew that the guards in Barepost wouldn’t bother attacking the monster. They didn’t want to draw its attention. We were the only hope for these two mysterious stragglers.

  I looked at Erik. “Let’s go.”

  We ran along the hill’s edge at first, Savarah trailing behind. I understood her reluctance. We were so close to completing Tsarra’s task, so close to rescuing Arun Phina. But if she knew Arun at all, she would know that this would be what he would choose too. What were two more passengers on the Iron Duchess anyway? Arun wanted to save them all, right? I surprised myself by wishing Arun were here, knowing he would be pleased.

  When we reached the edge of the hill where it met the mountain, Erik, Estrid, and I buckled ourselves onto one another. We were used to the climb and were well equipped. We were quick, knowing that every moment wasted brought the pair above us closer to death.

  Erik turned to Savarah. “You’re with me.” He pulled her flush against him, his big arm around her narrow waist.

  Her mask slipped for only the second time since I’d met her, her face twisting into shock at his boldness.

  Estrid turned quickly away, her lips pressed together to hold in her amusement, and began to climb.

  It didn’t matter how many times we’d done it, climbing up a sheer rock wall was no easy task. Not to mention this was a different part of the mountain than we were used to, without our well-worn handholds. And Erik was almost entirely supporting Savarah. I made a silent vow then that if she did something stupid to get us pulled down, I would cut her away to fall to her own death. But we all had our hand-picks strapped to our wrists and a basic knowledge of where not to put our feet, so we made quick progress.

  Estrid got to the monster first, just as it reached the pair, who had taken refuge on a small ledge. A big man with dark hair covering half of his face was trying to fend it off with his sword, but the monster’s bark-like shell made it nearly impenetrable. Their only saving grace was that it kept sliding down whenever it picked up a leg to skewer them. There was a girl with him. She carried a long spear and was trying to thrust it forward, but the man kept pushing her back behind him. If there was one rule about fighting on the cliffs, it was never stop climbing. If there was another rule, it was stay out of reach. They had broken both, and it wouldn’t be long before they paid dearly for it.

  Estrid’s sword struck one of the back legs. Startled, the monster’s leg shot out, connecting with Estrid’s face and knocking her backward. Her hand-pick came loose, and she slid several feet. I braced myself, pressing my body against the wall, and felt the rope at my waist go taut as it held her.

  “Are you all right?” I asked, glancing down.

  She didn’t answer. She was already climbing back up.

  I was doing my best not to get in the way of the back limb near me that flailed and slid wildly on the rocks, carving deep grooves and sending splinters raining over us. What could we use to kill a tree?

  I looked down at my brother who was just below me, Savarah hanging onto his back. “Do you still have the galestone?”

  He lifted himself up another arm’s length. “Better than that.” He reached inside of his leather vest. “I have this.” He pulled out what I recognized as Gerves’s galestone pistol.

  I wasn’t sure that was truly better, though it could be more effective. If it worked. If it didn’t blow my face off. “Why do you have that?”

  “Gerves’s parting gift,” he answered with a smile.

  “Well, we have to be smart about it.”

  “Aren’t we always?”

  I didn’t want to answer that. So instead, I took the pistol from him while he withdrew a packet with a metal ball and galestone powder. Each of us using one hand, we loaded the pistol, Savarah watching over Erik’s shoulder. Estrid had joined us too. Blood dripped from her nose, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “Aim,” Erik said.

  I did, pointing the iron nose of the pistol at the back of the monster’s slender, wooden head. Watching it, seeing it reach and stretch its branch arms for the pair on the ledge, I wondered how many of these I’d unknowingly passed in the forests of Bruhier. How many I had walked near, how many I had rested against. All these years, and none had made themselves known to us. So why now? What had these two done to incur its wrath?

  Thunder rumbled overhead, barely audible over the monster’s thrashing, and I remembered what Erik had said about galestone not lighting in the rain.

  “Hurry,” I said as he struggled with the flint.

  He struck it against the rock once, twice, and finally, a spark. It caught on the fuse sticking out of the back of the pistol’s barrel and began burning.

  “Aim,” Erik repeated.

  I squinted, pointing the pistol at the back of the monster’s head, and begged Oya for a straight, clean shot.

  The pistol grew warm in my hands as the fire traveled into the barrel. Erik braced my elbow, and suddenly, the world exploded. Fire raced out of my hands, tracing a burning path along the creature’s back. The ball buried itself in his head, smoke streaming out of the small hole, followed by licking flames. The monster thrashed and screamed, and in its pain, forgot itself. Forgot that it wasn’t safe on the ground, roots buried deep, sleeping its eternal slumber. Forgot that it was hundreds of feet in the air, hanging off the side of a cliff. And it let go.

  I pressed myself against the rock but still, branches whipped at my face and scratched my hands.

  “No!” Erik shouted.

  My first thought was Estrid, but she was beside me. I twisted, looking down, and saw him holding Savarah by only her hand, the rest of her dangling precariously off the cliff. Even worse, Erik was barely hanging on to his hand-pick himself, the hand grasping it bloody and trembling.

  Estrid moved toward him, sliding sideways until she was close enough to wrap a hand in the fabric of his tunic. “Pull her up.”

  Erik grimaced. “Don’t you think I would if I could?”

  “Then let her go.” Estrid widened her eyes at our brother as if that were the obvious answer.

  “I—”

  “N
ow is not the time for bickering,” I yelled.

  Estrid huffed and let go of Erik, reaching down to grab onto Savarah’s other hand. Together, they hauled her up between them. Both of them hung on by one hand, and I could feel them slowly shifting their weight to the ropes strapped to my belt. My arms, already sore from days in the mine, shook.

  But I could not let go. Would not let go. Too many people were counting on me. “Let’s go. One step at a time.”

  That was what we did, each of us moving our picks one at a time, crawling up the mountainside. Overhead, the two strangers peered down at us, neither of them speaking.

  When we were closer, the man lay down on the ledge and leaned over, the woman behind him, bracing his legs. “Just a little farther.”

  I stretched, reaching for him just as the tree monster had done. The man’s hand clapped around my forearm and dragged me forward over the ledge. “I cannot thank you enough—” He stopped, studying my face.

  Estrid and Erik joined us, followed by Savarah, all of us squeezing onto the ledge, everyone watching this man.

  His companion peeked out from behind him but did not speak.

  Thunder rumbled overhead.

  A drop of rain hit my face. “Who are—”

  I drew up short when the man raised a finger and pointed at my face. “Suun?”

  Before I could say anything, Estrid turned to Erik. “Where’s Savarah?”

  Erik turned as if she were hiding behind him but came up empty. “She was just here. I thought . . . Did she make it over the ledge? Did she . . .”

  She had, I knew she had. I’d seen her stand, watched her brush her skirts off and pull her hair back from her face. And then . . . I gasped, a hand covering my mouth.

  The three of us peered over. Below us, the tree monster lay in shattered remains, branches and sticks and roots scattered in pieces that made it unrecognizable for what it had once been. Now it was just firewood. But there was no evidence of Savarah. She was just . . .

  Gone.

  Chapter 17

  I stood, turning to the new members of our group just as the rain fell in earnest. We huddled together beneath the ledge’s small overhang.

  “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” I asked, squinting at them.

  Estrid and Erik were beside me, one on each side, and I was sure we made an intimidating picture.

  But neither of the newcomers backed down.

  “I am Beru,” the man said, still looking at me strangely, as if he knew me from somewhere, though I had never seen him before in my life. “This is Aria.” He gestured to the woman, offering no clue as to their relationship.

  She raised a hand in greeting. “We were on a journey but were waylaid by . . .” She looked down, then back up at us. “Whatever that was. Can you help us get to safety?”

  I shrugged. “It will come at a cost. To reach safety, you’ll have to climb. And fight.” I didn’t know if they would make it, but I certainly didn’t want to send them back down to Barepost.

  “More of the same, then,” the man—Beru—grumbled.

  “We can do it.” Aria looked sideways at her companion. “We’ve come this far.”

  “A fool’s errand.”

  I rolled my eyes, turning away from them, not interested in adding their problems to my own. The rain had already stopped, leaving the ledge slick but passable. “Let’s go.” We’d wasted enough time. Probably too much time.

  There was a small, barely-there path that wound up from the ledge and around the side of the cliff, and we followed it with small, shuffling steps, me in the lead. I knew we had to be getting close, and sure enough, after a few minutes, I heard voices.

  The miners came into view not long after. The hole Arun and I had found was, from the outside, barely visible. I would have missed it if not for the men gathered on a large, flat outcropping of rock. I spotted Owin and Bertol, and several others whose names I hadn’t learned in the last few days. But no Arun.

  I hailed the men, who looked startled at my sudden appearance. One even held his pickax up as if to throw it at me, but Bertol stilled his hand.

  “Where is Arun?” I asked. We’d reached a gap in our path, so I had to yell across, unable to get any closer.

  Bertol pointed to the hole. “Helping.”

  That was when Xalph emerged from the hole, pulling himself through with his scrawny arms. He blinked once, twice, and then tumbled out into Owin’s waiting arms. Even though the man was missing a hand, he gathered Xalph up tightly and helped him to his feet. I should have been moving, climbing across, helping Beru and Aria, but I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of Xalph. He toed the very edge of the rock on which he stood and gazed out after the vast landscape. I tried to imagine it as he saw it—the size of the world, the brightness of it all, after being trapped beneath the ground for his entire life.

  “Frida,” Erik said from behind me, “we have to keep going.”

  He was right. Using my hand-picks, I made my way across the gap in the path, then reached back for Aria and then Beru in turn. The man begrudgingly accepted my help, then ushered Aria toward the miners, obviously glad to have other company. Erik and Estrid crossed with no issue, but Erik still accepted my hand when I held it out to him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, voice low enough that only I could hear, “that you felt like you had to do this for us.”

  “It’s not just for us.” I motioned to the group, to Xalph.

  Erik nodded and patted me on the shoulder, then approached Bertol to introduce himself. I didn’t know if he understood how much that small bit of approval meant to me.

  Then Arun appeared, tumbling through the opening and rolling to his feet. He was dirty as ever, his hair loose from its strap, tumbling around his shoulders. There was a bloody gash on one arm, but he didn’t pay it any attention.

  “That’s it,” he said to no one in particular. “There’s no one else.” Then he saw me and went still, his face cautious and guarded.

  He didn’t know, I realized, whether I was there to help him or to hunt him for Luthair. “You made it.”

  He shrugged, as if it were no small feat. “So did you.”

  I looked back at the hole, expecting to see a platoon of guards scrambling through, but it was quiet. “What did you do?”

  “A cave in.”

  That explained the alarm.

  “We trapped ourselves inside the tunnel. On purpose.”

  “So while they’re on the inside trying to free you . . .”

  “We’re out here, freeing ourselves.”

  I nodded, slightly impressed in spite of myself. “I was with Luthair today. He suspects your plan to get to your airship. He says he has a surprise waiting for you.”

  Arun exhaled, his eyes scanning the miners on the ledge. “That should be exciting. Let’s get there first, and then we’ll worry about whatever he has planned.”

  The miners were armed with only their pickaxes, brute strength, and stubborn determination, but it seemed to be enough. We were a strange parade as we hauled ourselves up the mountain, me and my siblings bringing up the rear. Owin and Xalph were between Arun and some of the other stronger men, helped along one painful step at a time. Aria and Beru were holding their own in spite of being ill-equipped for the climb.

  Arun pointed to a ledge a few yards overhead, gesturing that we should head for it.

  Another break, another chance for Luthair to catch us. But we had to do what was best for the group.

  We shifted our trajectory for the outcropping, and then, as the first man reached it, I heard the scream. It was a sound that usually sent the people of Barepost running for cover, a sound that drew archers to their posts. The sound echoed off the rocks and bounced around in my head.

  It took everything I had to remember not to let go and cover my ears. I looked up, knowing exactly what I would see.

  The dreadwing had a face that made a mockery of the human visage, the nose morphed into a sharp beak, the lips pulle
d back to bare rows of sharp teeth. Its legs were long and muscled, ending in finger-like talons. The neck was ruffled and thick, and the back was hunched between two huge feathered wings that it had in place of arms. It was one of the only flying monsters we had encountered in Bruhier, and one of the worst, despite it being one of the smallest. They didn’t attack frequently, but when they did, it almost always ended in death.

  Erik looked at me, his face grim. There was nothing we could do except keep going. Men scrambled onto the ledge, pulling up their friends and preparing to fight off the beast if needed. But it just hovered, drawing long, lazy circles with its shadow. Waiting, I thought, for the perfect moment.

  It drew nearer to us, and I took a warning swing at it with one of my hand-axes. It snarled at me and skittered away. That was when I realized we weren’t moving.

  A few yards away and overhead, Xalph was frozen. Owin urged him forward, but there was only so much he could do with one hand. Xalph trembled, pressing himself against the rock and shaking his head.

  “Xalph!” I hissed. “Go!”

  The dreadwing smelled weakness and saw its chance. It dove for Xalph. The men on the ledge shouted. Owin tried to figure out how to reach for him.

  Estrid moved quickly, sidestepping and climbing at the same time.

  But I was frozen. None of us would make it on time. The beast was on Xalph, its talons digging into a skinny shoulder.

  Xalph cried out and released the wall to beat at the bird, too late realizing his mistake. I saw from my place below him the moment he knew he would fall, the fear and shock on his face.

  Then Owin reached for the boy.

  Arun had a hold of his other arm, fingers wrapped around the crook of his elbow like a handle. Arun grunted as he took all of the man’s weight.

  The dreadwing tore at Xalph, trying to tug him away from Owin’s iron grip, but the man would not let go, his face red with effort.

  “Owin!” Arun cried, and I knew the monster had won.