by HP Mallory
“Aye,” he answered in a smaller voice, his eyes suddenly appearing as dark blue pools of ancient pain. “Boot nae matter how much pain I bear at mah own hands, it cannae wipe away the pain of mah betrayal.”
Feeling like my mind would collapse on itself, I tried to organize my myriad thoughts. “So do you have some sort of agreement with AfterLife Enterprises whereby if you retrieve enough souls, you will have paid penance?” That was the only reason I could see for why he wanted credit for saving the soul of our first mission.
He was quiet for a second or two as he appeared to contemplate my question. Then he simply nodded.
“How many souls do you have to retrieve?” I continued.
He shook his head and sighed. “Ah doona know.”
“You don’t know?” I tripped on the words. “Then how will you know when you’ve been forgiven?”
He chuckled, but it was a hollow, weak sound. “Yer guess is as good as mine, lass.” Then he took a deep breath and brought his eyes to mine from where he’d been focusing on the crop circles he was drawing in the dirt. “Mah hope is to someday nae wake up. For then Ah will know that the spirit has been washed from me an’ Ah have been forgiven.” He stood up and stretched his arms above his head, sighing as he did so. Then he turned his haunted expression on me. “For mah part, Ah will never forgive mahself.”
I just exhaled, suddenly feeling very sorry for him. Two thousand years was a long time to suffer immense self-loathing and guilt. Whereas before, I envied his immortality, knowing it meant his safety in the Underground City, now I recognized it as the true curse it really was.
“Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.”
– Dante’s Inferno
TWELVE
I didn’t know what time it was, or whether it was day or night, as everything in this horrible place amounted to nothing but endless dark. And even though it was my turn to sleep, after Tallis took it upon himself to play the role of watchman, I did nothing but toss and turn. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, all centering on the story Tallis told me about being possessed by the ghost of some Celtic warrior and how he’d sold out to the Romans. It almost sounded like the setup to a bad joke …
But, unfortunately, there would be no punch line.
Coming to the realization that my mind was too busy to sleep, I rolled onto my back, opened my eyes and focused on the stars as they blinked in the black sky. The sound of Bill’s loud snoring further pushed me toward the decision that I was definitely awake. I rolled onto my side and looked over at Tallis, who was leaning against a tree, his attention centered on me.
He held a small piece of wood in one hand, a blade in the other. Wood shavings on the ground around him as well as in his lap told me he was whittling a spear or something of that nature.
“I can’t sleep,” I grumbled as I cleared my throat and sat up. I could feel the effect of sleep deprivation on my body—lethargy, a feeling of being drained, and almost sick. But, there was no way I could rest in this dreadful place, having already tried and failed.
“Ye need yer sleep. ’Tis important.” Tallis’s voice was a monotone, his attention riveted on the spear he whittled.
“Yeah, well, unless some of your Druid magic can make me sleep, there’s no hope.”
“Ah cannae force ye ta sleep,” he answered, frowning at me before refocusing his attention on the spear.
I nodded and took a deep breath, my stomach grumbling loudly as I felt the heat of embarrassment flooding my cheeks. Despite eating the shish kabob earlier, it obviously hadn’t been enough.
“Are ye still hungry, Besom?” Tallis asked. He motioned to the two uncooked skewers that lay on a strip of muslin beside him, one of them reserved for Bill. Laying my eyes on the one unaccounted for, I immediately felt my stomach growling even more loudly. But moments later, I shook my head. Tallis was more than twice my size, so if anyone deserved seconds, he did.
“You should eat it,” I answered with an encouraging smile. “I’m fine, really.”
“Ah have learned ta survive on minimal edibles. If ye are hungry, ye should have it.”
Unwilling to argue, I accepted the kabob when he handed it to me and faced the warmth of the fire while holding it over the flames. “You should sleep now; I can take over watch duty,” I said, although the thought did leave me slightly concerned. I couldn’t help wondering what lurked out there that required me to be on watch duty in the first place.
Tallis said nothing, but simply nodded. He dusted the wood splinters from his kilt as he laid the spear on the dirt, with the blade beside it. Then he made sure his sword was propped next to him, against the tree. Convinced everything was present and accounted for, he wrapped his arms against his broad chest and closed his eyes. I forcibly moved my gaze to the fire and watched it flickering as it spat flames and roiled this way and that. At the sound of sputtering, I looked at Bill. His mouth was half-open, with a clear stream of drool traveling down his cheek and dripping into a small puddle in the dirt. Catching his breath, he began to snore more evenly, and looked as comfortable as if he were lying on a bed of down.
Unable to suppress a smile, I shook my head and returned my attention to the hard planes of Tallis’s face. I couldn’t help staring as I studied him in his repose, grateful to be able to gaze at him without worrying about him realizing what I was doing. ’Course, all he had to do was open his eyes and I’d be caught. I figured it was a chance I was willing to take since I couldn’t unfasten my eyes from his face. It was strong, masculine and handsome, despite the long scar that bisected his cheek. Actually, the more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that the scar wasn’t so much a flaw, but rather an embellishment to Tallis’s face. The scar emphasized his masculinity with more rawness, and more edginess. His long, black eyelashes settled against his high cheekbones, and his eyebrows and mouth free of their usual glower, gave him a peaceful, even happy appearance.
But I knew better. Happiness was not in Tallis’s repertoire. I sighed, remembering the details of our conversation and, more pointedly, the details of his past. Tallis was damaged, that much was clear. And I wasn’t sure why, but somehow knowing he was broken drew me closer to him, almost as if I wanted to fix him. Knowing his story, I no longer dismissed him as the hostile, intimidating and argumentative bladesmith. Nope, the situation wasn’t black and white anymore, or cut and dried. Now, I knew why he was the way he was. He needed to bury his past, and let it go. And a part of me wanted to help him cease his self-loathing, and prove to him that he could overcome his past and be proud of himself, not ashamed.
Another part of me wanted to avoid any involvement and protect myself. I sensed the more I got to know Tallis, the more invested in him I would become. And that thought scared me because getting close to Tallis was like befriending a wild lion. Not to mention, I didn’t think Tallis wanted much to do with me.
Just stop thinking about him, will you? I yelled at myself. Tallis isn’t your problem to fix! I mean, hello! You’ve already got more than your fair share of issues facing you!
But, try as I might, I couldn’t forget the angst in Tallis’s eyes as he recalled his past. Furthermore, I was shocked to hear him admit as much as he had to me. Sometimes, he seemed so guarded and withdrawn, while at others, it seemed as if he wanted or needed someone to talk to. There were moments when it almost seemed like he trusted me, or maybe even considered me his friend.
He was a dichotomy, for sure. Not only that, but he was in obvious pain. It was pretty clear that he couldn’t forgive himself. One piece of the Tallis puzzle that I couldn’t quite put my finger on was why he had ever agreed to side with the Romans in the first place. I mean, yes, he said it was either that or death, but Tallis didn’t strike me as someone who feared death, or anything else, for that matter. But, who knew? Maybe in his long lifetime, he’d changed. Maybe the Tallis of two thousand years ago was very different to the Tallis I only recently met.
“Hey, nerdlet, please tell me you’re cooki
n’ that shiznit for me?” Bill grumbled in a sleep-heavy voice as he sat up and stretched, with a gaping yawn. Cupping his palm in front of his lips, he blew and cringed when his breath wafted back at him. “Shit, I got nap mouth,” he muttered. He crinkled his nose and swallowed three times, trying to rid his mouth of the offensive smell. Then he looked around himself, belched, and tipped his chin in Tallis’s direction. “He dead or just sleepin’?”
I shook my head and offered Bill a smile, pleased to have his company because it meant the end of my mental debate about Tallis. “He’s asleep and, yes, you can have this,” I said, indicating the skewer. “It’s almost done now.”
Bill nodded in thanks before yawning again. He rubbed his eyes, which made them look even puffier. With his cowlick causing his hair to stick up in the middle, he reminded me of Alfalfa from The Little Rascals.
“Damn it!” he blurted as he rubbed his stomach and curled his lip into a pout.
“What?” I asked, worried. It looked like he was in some kind of pain.
With a quick glance over both of his shoulders, he made sure we were really alone, then frowned at me, still grasping his stomach like he thought it would drop. “I gotta go number two, but this place is givin’ me pooformance anxiety.”
I laughed out loud. For all Bill’s off-color and idiotic jokes, some of them were actually pretty funny. “Well, just make sure you don’t venture too far.”
“Easy for you to say when you don’t gotta go.”
“When you don’t have to go,” I corrected him, shaking my head. “If you want me to learn your bizarre lingo, then you have to speak mine correctly!”
“Blah,” he spat back at me and stood up. He hopped from toe to toe as he looked right and then left. Finally, with a shrug, he walked behind the tree he’d been sleeping beside. A tree that was maybe five feet from me.
“Oh my God, Bill, go farther away than that!” I yelled at him, absolutely not wanting our friendship to degrade into watching him defecate. Hopping over to a burnt-out trunk, beside the other tree, he began to squat. “Not there, Bill! I can still see you!”
He grumbled something unintelligible as he gripped his waistline with one hand and his bottom with the other. Then he waddled over to a tree maybe three feet away from the other one. Hiding behind it, he poked his face around the charred trunk and scowled at me, shaking his head. “I gotta go now, yo. I got major poo pains!”
Still able to sort of see him, I immediately turned my attention to the skewer in my hand. I rotated it carefully to make sure I didn’t burn this one. Then realizing that Bill and I weren’t exactly quiet in our last exchange, I chanced a glance at Tallis, and was relieved to find his eyes still closed. It looked like he was sleeping, or at least trying to. I scolded myself for being so loud—as much as I needed my sleep, Tallis needed his more.
Before I could think another thought, Bill bellowed from behind the tree and rent the still of the air. I felt my stomach knot and I instantly released my hand, dropping the skewer into the fire. I jumped up and turned to face Tallis, who was already on his feet, his sword ready. Hearing unsteady but hurried footsteps, I watched in shock as Bill ran at us full bore, while holding up his pants. His eyes were as big as two saucers and his mouth was even larger and screaming.
“What is it?” I shrieked at him.
“Uglyasfuckasaur spider!” he wailed in terror. He caught up to me and stood still, trying to catch his breath.
“Really, Bill?” I glared at him, throwing my hands on my hips to show my annoyance and disbelief. “All of that over a spider?”
“This ain’t no ordinary spider!” he squealed, shaking his head just as he remembered he hadn’t zipped or buttoned his pants. “This thing is the size of a fucking hippo!” he roared out as his fleshy, fin-like fingers wrestled with his zipper and button.
“Yer sword!” Tallis railed at me, motioning to the sword that lay beside me. I lurched for it, my heart in my throat as I wondered what was out there, and what Bill had seen. I had to admit I’d been skeptical about the danger of the spider, that is, until Tallis ordered me to pick up my sword. Now I was just scared. I held the blade up in front of me, completely forgetting all of Tallis’s lessons.
Bill, now beside and slightly behind me, addressed Tallis. “Go kill it, Conan!”
My breath caught in my throat as the spider in question suddenly appeared from behind a tree. Although not quite the size of a hippo, it was abnormally large—standing as tall as my knees. Its tubular body was maybe two feet in diameter, and its legs had to be four feet long when extended. Its body was covered in a pelt of white hairs that looked like fur. Its legs, also covered in the strange hair-fur, were mottled white and grey. Long, black hairs extended from the top of its legs, matching the glassy black of its six eyes. But it was the two large eyes on top of the other four that were repugnantly terrifying. All eyes watched Tallis as he approached it. The thing reared back and held its four front legs out, obviously adopting an attack pose. In this new vantage point, I could see what looked like two large, yellow, furry fangs that were just below its numerous eyes.
“Be cannie,” Tallis called out. “It jumps!”
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the creature launched itself at Tallis, flying over his head as he swung his sword and missed. Bill and I both screamed, in exactly the same pitch, and ducked in the same direction and at the same time, squarely ramming our heads together as the thing sailed past us. It caught its foot on the trunk of the tree where Tallis had been sleeping and thrust itself forward again. This time, Tallis came up behind it and speared it right through the abdomen.
“We must move on,” Tallis said as he pulled his sword free of the spider. He glanced down at it briefly, just to make sure it was dead. “They hunt in packs an’ it wilna be alone.”
After cleaning the blade of his sword with a piece of muslin from his backpack, he sheathed it. Then he motioned for my sword, which he stashed beside his own, in the scabbard across his chest. Pushing his arms into his backpack, he did the same with his shield.
“What about the fire?” I asked, as I watched Bill’s attempts to avoid the flames as he tried to save the skewer I accidentally dropped.
“’Twill burn itself out. We leave now,” Tallis finished. He started forward without waiting for either of us to ask any more questions.
Bill inspected the completely charred shish kabob, now with small sticks and other debris stuck to it. After studying it for another moment, he took a hesitant bite, before finally shrugging and starting in on the rest of it. Figuring he might be hungry later (I’d since lost my appetite after being attacked by the enormous spider), I wrapped the other skewer in the muslin and decided to bring it with us.
We walked at a breakneck pace for maybe thirty minutes before Tallis finally slowed down and I could actually take a deep breath. My legs were aching, as were the soles of my feet. I was sweaty, headachy and under the circumstances, pretty grumpy. “So what was that thing?” I asked, waiting to discuss the spider until we were far enough away from it to be able to. Obviously, I knew it was a spider but I wasn’t sure if maybe it was more than that.
Tallis looked over at me and arched a brow, a slight smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “It was yer supper.”
I felt my stomach drop at the thought of the disgusting creature which now lay in my stomach. Then I caught Tallis’s grin and a wave of relief washed over me. As soon as the wave crested, though, I wondered what we’d really eaten for dinner. “It’s comforting to know you’re joking about the spider being our mystery meat, but that begs the question of what our dinner really was?”
Tallis cocked his head to the side and offered me another quick grin. “’Tis better nae ta ask, lass.”
***
We traveled through the charcoal forest for another night and two days, although the days and nights mingled together into one dark blur. The landscape was unchanging, and the burnt out hulls looked just the same as they di
d the day or night before. How Tallis could navigate was beyond me. I guessed he used the stars though, because he constantly checked the sky every hour or so. Or maybe he was just looking out for flying monsters.
I wasn’t sure how, but Bill never lost his cool. He didn’t seem the least bit put out that we were living an absolute nightmare. I felt like I could lose my mind at any given moment, but Bill continued to rattle off politically incorrect, and often graphic and disgusting, jokes, although he was the only one who laughed at them. At least he kept himself amused. Tallis, too, seemed unruffled by his surroundings, and remained recalcitrant and mostly withdrawn. Apparently, I was the only one who didn’t take everything in stride …
When I finally hit my breaking point, and felt like the never ending dark sky combined with the skeletal forest would certainly be the undoing of my sanity, the landscape changed. Bill and I stopped dead in our tracks at the new scenery before us. We faced an uneven, muddy dirt road with weeds and overgrown grass on either side of it. There were no trees at all, skeletal or otherwise. The road started where the tree line ended. Ominous black clouds eclipsed what appeared to be the moon. The pale, yellow-grey glow of the moon’s reflection against the clouds lit up the center of the road, and became so bright, I had to shield my eyes against it.
“We have reached our destination,” Tallis announced.
I was surprised and returned my attention to the dirt road, which disappeared into the cloud cover. “This is it?” I asked, expecting to see a city, not a dirt road to nowhere.
“Aye,” he answered robotically before continuing forward, as though to discourage any more questions. Bill and I watched him walk onto the dirt road and proceed toward the shadows of the clouds. Then he simply disappeared on the horizon, at the same spot where the road vanished into the clouds.