Where Gods Fear to Go

by Angus Watson

  “You intend to take the coffin to The Meadows?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you any idea what’s happening west of here?”

  “Some.”

  “You won’t get halfway to The Meadows.”

  “We will try.”

  Chief Tarker looked at Sofi. Sofi looked back. She liked this woman.

  “All right,” said the chief eventually. “The box you seek is here. It was brought here by a man a decade ago, when another people had this land.”

  “The Popeye.”

  “Indeed.”

  “We met some. They are dead now,” said Sofi.

  “I’m not surprised, they were a weedy lot. So, the man who brought the box died. Collapsed on arrival and never woke, apparently. The Popeyes decided he’d been killed by dark magic coming from the box itself–(“Great!” said Paloma behind Sofi)–so they kept it somewhere where nobody would stumble on it by mistake.”

  “Where?” Sofi asked.

  “It’s lashed to the middle of an arch of rock called the Great Worm. You can have it if you can take it.”

  “What’s the difficulty?”

  “Gaven?” called Chief Tarker.

  An elderly man stepped forward. He was bald, with a skull so flat that Sofi guessed he’d had a board strapped to it throughout childhood.

  “Tell Sofi the problem with the Great Worm.”

  “The presence of the coffin has soured the land around like a corpse rotting in a grain store.” His sing-song voice did not tally well with his grim news. “I told people to never go there. Four people didn’t listen to me. They died.”

  “How?” asked Sofi.

  “I don’t know. I found them. There were torn apart and their limbs strewn around the base of the Great Worm. I don’t know what beast or beasts killed them. Theirs were the only remains I found.”

  “Were there tracks?” asked Sofi.

  “I’m afraid I fled before I thought to look, and nobody’s been there since.”

  “Sounds like our kind of place!” chimed in Wulf. “Let’s go!”

  Chief Tarker shrugged, then nodded. “You’ll be doing us a favour taking the thing away. Follow me.”

  She turned and walked northwards.

  Sofi gestured to the others to follow, then caught up with Tarker.

  “Tell me,” the chief asked as Sofi fell into step, “did your woman have fun with the squatch she rescued from us?”

  Wormsland tribespeople headed off to the east, leaving Chief Tarker striding ahead with Sofi, and their warlock Gaven, who was talking to Yoki Choppa.

  Sassa Lipchewer was surprised and slightly miffed to discover Yoki Choppa was capable of conversation. And she actually heard Sofi laugh. Did the two most reticent of the Calnians get along only with their own kind? Were the Wootah really so different? She was grateful to Sofi for telling her about her baby’s heartbeat, and she’d risked herself to rescue Erik, but Sofi’s orders from Empress Ayanna had been to kill all the Wootah. They’d all assumed that this order was redundant now that they were all friends and Ayanna was dead and the Calnian empire she’d ruled over was no more. But Sofi had never mentioned the order, or, more importantly, never said that she planned to ignore it.

  Did Sofi keep her distance, wondered Sassa, because she still intended to kill all the Wootah when the quest was done? Sassa could pretend that Wulf, Keef and Erik would protect them, but she’d seen Sofi fight the wasp men. The Wootah wouldn’t last a heartbeat. She pictured them placing a small coffin at the base of The Pyramid, and Sofi turning, axe in one hand, knife in the other –

  Giggles from Freydis and Ottar wrenched her from morbid fantasising. Ottar had found a tortoise. The tortoises were much larger here than they’d been back at Hardwork. Sassa touched Wulf’s arm and they stopped to watch. The children marvelled at the armoured creature. Freydis told Ottar not to touch it. The boy dodged her restraining arm and stroked its back while the reptile blinked uncomplainingly and Freydis tutted.

  It was such a joy to see those two together again. Sure, it was great that Keef had been freed from his false obligation to Bodil and got it on with Sitsi, but the greatest happiness of the reunion by far was Ottar and Freydis’s innocent delight.

  One day, Sassa hoped, she and Wulf would watch their own children play and bicker and discover. She could not wait. She knew there were terrible dangers ahead, but they’d survived so many that she was beginning to believe that they might get through it. She didn’t want to jinx it, but she really did feel that both her and Wulf’s days of death were a long way off.

  Wulf nudged her arm. He gestured back with his head. Nether Barr had dropped twenty paces behind, and was dragging her net along the ground, with her head down. Given her usual sprightly, lizard-chasing ways, it seemed something was wrong.

  Sassa touched Wulf’s arm, nodding for him to go on, then stopped to wait for the old lady.

  “Hello!” she said.

  Nether Barr looked up, then looked down again.

  “What’s up?” asked Sassa.

  “Nothing.”

  “Go on,” said Sassa, “a problem shared—”

  “Is a problem burdened on other people,” interrupted Nether Barr, before carrying on anyway. “It’s seeing those lovely children having such a wonderful time,” she said, “and you with one on the way. Makes me wish I’d had my own.”

  “I’m sure life’s a lot easier without them,” Sassa suggested.

  “I could have had them,” Nether Barr continued. “I should have done, but I had to adventure, didn’t I? I could have settled down with Croxton or Roccker, I was a beauty and I could have had any of them, but no, I wanted to see the world. I was the great traveller. By the time I realised I wanted children it was too late.”

  “Where did you go?” They were walking past a large arch of rock, the biggest they’d seen yet.

  “Where didn’t I go?” Nether Barr quickened her pace as she spoke excitedly. “I went all over the Desert You Don’t Walk Out Of. North, south, east, west, you name it, I went there.”

  “And beyond the desert?” Sassa asked.

  Nether Barr eyed her suspiciously. “No. Why would I want to leave the desert?”

  “Why indeed?” Sassa replied, trying not to be smug about the fact that she’d seen more of the world than the great traveller without even trying. “Have you been to The Meadows?”

  “I have seen The Meadows, which is as much as anyone’s done for a few hundred years, other than the man who stole the coffin, of course.”

  “What was it like?”

  “The most beautiful place I have ever seen. Green and lovely. Parrots everywhere. Apparently there are more amazing animals, but I never saw them.”

  “Do you think the Warlock Queen is behind all these monsters and disasters?”

  “Oh, yes. If you saw the paradise she’d made in the middle of the dry desert, you’d believe she could do anything.”

  They chatted on, Nether Barr telling Sassa about all the places she’s seen in the Desert You Don’t Walk Out Of, and Sassa realising that maybe Nether Barr had seen more of the world than her. The Desert You Don’t Walk Out Of, it seemed, was seriously big.

  “I don’t mean to be rude,” said Sassa when Nether Barr paused, “but you’ve hardly been chatty on this journey. Why not?”

  “Nobody’s spoken to me.”

  “Surely they have.”

  “No. Only Ottar has shown me any attention.”

  It was true. But then again Nether Barr had always been off ahead…

  “You’re a clique, you see,” the old lady continued. “People in a clique don’t need to talk to outsiders.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Sassa.

  “Oh, don’t be. I know it isn’t malicious. It’s nice to be part of a clique. I was in one once. It was north-west of here, near the Salt Lake. There were seven of us—”

  Nether Barr carried on, hardly drawing a breath, as if making up for all the time she hadn’t s
poken. Sassa didn’t mind. It was interesting stuff and it was a shame when they arrived at the mouth of the shadowed canyon that led to the Great Worm and Sofi asked her to be quiet.

  Who knew what Sofi and Yoki Choppa had talked to the Wormslanders about, but they seemed to have made good impressions, because both their warlock Gaven and Chief Tarker announced that they’d come with the Wootah and Calnians into the dangerous place.

  The narrow canyon opened into a wider, red desert valley. Ahead was a forest of rock towers. Green bushes and cactuses were bright against the red rocks, which lay in crazily shaped clumps and mounds all around. It was another rabbit paradise. The appealing little animals hopped everywhere, leaving trails in the red sand. Friendly looking crows watched from red ridges. Butterflies busied themselves between flowers.

  It didn’t look or feel evil. Sassa heard stifled giggles from Wulf and Finn. Many of the rock columns had bulbous ends.

  Sofi was standing on a rock to the right of the path, a hand on one hip, the other holding her axe. The others gathered around and waited for Sassa and Nether Barr.

  “Right,” said Sofi (which Sassa translated as you should have walked here more quickly, Sassa Lipchewer and Nether Barr). “The Great Worm is half a mile ahead. Do you mind if I give orders to the Wootah, Wulf?”

  “Go for it.”

  “Tarker, may I include you and Gaven in the plan?”

  “Sure,” replied Tarker, looking amused.

  “Sassa, Tarker and Keef,” Sofi continued, “you’re in front with your bows. Sitsi and Freydis, take the rear.”

  The serious look on Freydis’s face as she headed to the rear, bow in hand, was adorable and heartbreaking. Sassa was also, she realised, piqued that Keef had learned to use a bow. Sassa was the Wootah’s archer. She chided herself for her childishness. Keef wouldn’t be as good as her after half a moon’s practice, anyway.

  “The rest of you protect the archers and Ottar. Paloma, range nearby. If we’re attacked, run around and kill as many as you can.”

  Paloma ran ahead, killing stick in hand.

  Weapons ready, they marched across the rabbit-busy land. The rocks narrowed. A thousand monsters could have been hiding behind the fins and towers of rock. Sassa felt like she had spiders crawling all over her skin. Terror, she realised.

  It was a long half-mile. Then they saw the Great Worm.

  “Fuck a woodchuck,” said Sassa. Arching across the sky, seventy paces above the ground and a hundred paces long, was a slender arch of red rock. What mad god could have made such a thing? How did it stay up? It looked like a good gust of wind would do for it.

  She saw the coffin, lashed to the centre of the rock bridge. A wave of foreboding made her feel sick and faint. Was it some evil magic flowing from the dead boy in the box? Or was it being pregnant and walking a long way in the heat? Either way, she had to take Wulf’s arm.

  “Everyone, wait here,” said Sofi.

  “No,” said Wulf. “I’ll get the kid.”

  Sassa turned to him. “You will not.”

  “I’ll go,” said Paloma. “The Great Worm doesn’t look too strong. If it breaks, I’ll be fine. Whereas you, Wulf, will be killed.”

  “The Worm has stood for thousands of years,” said Sofi. “Wulf can go.”

  Sassa got it, she really did. Sofi had been on the vision quest. Paloma had rescued Freydis. Sofi had saved Erik’s life on the bridge. Finn had saved Sassa from the wasp man. Sofi was doing Wulf a favour. It was time for him to do something dangerous to help them all.

  But not this. Paloma would have the box down in a trice. If anything attacked Sofi or Paloma up on the arch they’d be able kill it without a bother, or leap down to escape. They were enhanced warriors. Wulf was not. If Wulf fell from the arch, he would die.

  “My love,” she said, “this is one for the Owsla.”

  “Sorry, Sassa. It’s Wootah time,” he grinned.

  “Paloma and Sofi live for this sort of thing. You saw Sofi rescue Erik. You’re a great warrior, Wulf, but your skills lie elsewhere. If the box on the arch were soup, Paloma is a spoon and you’re a fork.”

  “You can eat soup with a fork.”

  “If you had a bowl of soup, and a fork and a spoon on a table in front of you, would you use the fork?”

  “For the larger lumps, yes. Can I borrow your knife, please, Erik?”

  Erik handed Wulf his obsidian blade and before Sassa could argue any more, Wulf ran towards the southern end of the arch.

  They watched as he clambered up the steep slope and ran–ran, the idiot–across the narrow span. Sassa looked at Sofi. She was watching calmly. So she couldn’t hear any trouble coming. Sassa unclenched her fists, toes and buttocks and tried to calm her breathing.

  Wulf dropped to his knees by the box. His elbow rose and fell as he sawed away. The rope sprang apart and tumbled down to the desert–a long way below. Wulf picked up the box and held it above his head.

  “WOOOOOOOOT—”

  The ground shook.

  The Great Worm shook.

  Wulf dropped to his knees, clutching the box.

  Sassa spread her hands for balance, looking up at the arch. Surely such a spindly bridge couldn’t survive such a violent quake?

  Then the ground all around erupted. Bushes, trees, rocks, even rabbits, launched into the air with a crunching whoosh and stayed aloft, swirling and howling in mini tornados.

  Sassa could only just make out the people around her, let alone her husband.

  “Somebody help Wulf!” she shouted, but she couldn’t hear her own cry. She stumbled in the direction of the arch. All around her, swirling rocks, plants and animals were smashing together and coalescing into new, weird forms. They were becoming animals. Monsters.

  Sassa strung an arrow.

  A sharp-beaked thing twice the height of a man emerged from the maelstrom and towered over her. It raised a serrated claw, lowered its face, opened its beak and screamed. Sassa shot into its open mouth and jumped clear as it fell.

  A horrific sound, like the bark of a tortured dog, rang out behind her. She turned. A beast the size of a buffalo with multiple short legs and a huge round head was charging her. She tried to string an arrow and fumbled. The monster leapt, gaping mouth full of black teeth.

  Sassa screamed and raised her arms.

  Chogolisa steamed in, ramming the beast with a shoulder. Sassa stared open-mouthed as the huge woman jumped onto the animal, gripped it with her great thighs and punched it into bloody stillness.

  The air cleared for a moment and she saw Wulf. He was still standing! But he was far from safe. Sliming towards him from the arch’s northern end was a giant slug with a multitude of arms waggling from its fat body. Rushing at him for the other end was what looked like a mob of badgers.

  “Sitsi!” she shouted as she shot an arrow into the slug thing, “Help Wulf!” Sitsi spun and shot arrow after arrow. Badger creatures flew off the arch, six of them in three heartbeats. But there were plenty more.

  Then Sassa had her own problems again. More creatures were forming out of the debris storm. There were misshapen beasts with long legs, short legs, bulbous bodies, great mouths, no mouths, crab claws, scorpion stings, serrated pincer jaws and all manner of mutations.

  A crowd of them came at her. Too many to shoot. She loosed an arrow at the nearest, jumped down into a sandy floored gully and ran towards the arch. She had to get to Wulf!

  Something that looked like a bald, eight-legged fox with a baby’s head burst from the sand and screamed at her. She hesitated for a heartbeat, then kicked its baby face as hard as she could.

  She bounded up a slope. A dome of rock blocked her view of the Great Worm and Wulf. She looked around.

  Erik, with Freydis on his shoulders, was whacking his club at a cluster of giant beetles with one hand and holding Ottar’s hand with the other. Ottar, brave little boy, was stamping on huge spiders. Freydis shot a shiny winged flying horror which shrieked and tumbled.

  Keef ha
d a massive, multi-limbed monstrosity speared on the end of Arse Splitter while Finn dodged the creature’s flailing arms and chopped at it with Foe Slicer. Thyri slashed the legs out from a man-shaped thing with what looked like a bag full of bees for a face. Nether Barr threw a writhing, two-headed snake at a hairy, long-armed animal that was bouncing on two legs and howling at her. Yoki Choppa was dashing about blowing darts into creatures.

  If the others were doing well, the Owsla were amazing.

  Sofi was dancing her dance of death, axe in one hand, dagger-tooth knife in the other, dispatching a foe every heartbeat. Paloma was haring about in a blur of limbs, slaughtering even more. She brained the beast that was threatening Nether Barr without stopping and had killed two more before Nether Barr had realised that her attacker was dead. Chogolisa was holding a great boulder two-handed and pummelling the brains out of a colossal lizard. Sitsi was pumping arrow after arrow into the ranks of attackers.

  But she couldn’t see Wulf. She ran to get a clear line of sight. She saw for a moment that he was still up on the arch, swinging at some lumpen thing–possibly the slug beast that she’d shot–with his hammer, then something whumped into her and knocked her flat.

  Sassa rolled onto her back. A monster was looming over her. It looked like it was made of water. Its head and hands were featureless, shimmering lumps. It toppled. She rolled, but too slowly. It landed on her with its full weight like a bucket of fish. She gasped and sucked in horrible goo. She choked and clawed the stuff out of her mouth. She sat. She was covered greasy sludge. The monster had gone.

  She clawed the ooze out of her eyes and spat. The slime tasted of cactus and clay.

  She looked about again for someone to come with her to help Wulf.

  Sofi, Paloma and Chogolisa were battling a flabby thing the size of a small hill. She could see Chief Tarker and the warlock Gaven now, whacking away with clubs at a host of yapping animals with huge teeth.

  She ran, and was finally able to see Wulf.

  He was still standing! He saw her and waved. Sassa sighed with relief. Then she saw the snake. The giant reptile, thicker than Chogolisa’s torso, was slithering up and along the arch, winding around it like some climbing weed. It was very long, it was very black and its head was larger that a buffalo’s.