“No way are you seven,” I state. “How old are you really? Is this your true form? If I touch you, will you flicker?”
Philip turns to me and gives me the poutiest seven-year-old face he can muster. “This isn’t Star Wars,” he yaps. “Get real. Come on and use that brain I just shoved back in your head. I can control the force that gives life, along with these puny bodies of ours that hold our organs together. I can manipulate body data. I can be anyone I want to be.”
“Does your foster mom know about all this?”
His laugh holds years of experience. “Karen? I’ve seen more foster homes than you can imagine, Kailey. I’ve probably been adopted forty times in the past century. I’m a nomad. I’ve deceived people my whole life. She doesn’t know what I am, so best we leave it that way, for her sake.” He sighs. “I thought I could lead a normal life, hiding away in her little family, but guess not, huh? Gunthreon here made sure of that. And he’s trying to ruin your life, too.”
I look at Gunthreon and it seems as though his glare at Philip might pierce right through his body. “I had nothing to do with finding you, ‘Philip,’” spits Gunthreon. “Stop being so damn dramatic!”
The testosterone level in the room is smothering me—and the tiny seven-year-old seems to be the biggest contributor. “Can we stop this petty bickering please?” I say. “Gunthreon, why is Philip—Ladimer—whoever—so angry with you? I turn to Philip with a finger to my lips, pointing to him with my other hand.
“Well, if Ladimer will let me explain,” barks Gunthreon. “I can clue you in.”
He waits until Philip gives him the floor with a hand gesture and Philip whispers, “Can’t wait to hear this.”
“Long ago,” begins Gunthreon in his best fairytale fashion, “there was a disastrous battle, sparked by Velopa over a particular region of Renhala that it was claiming was its own. The fight involved hundreds of creatures and humans, and we two were in the middle of a particularly ugly fight—”
Philip interjects by adding, “—where I was falling at least twice the amount of enemies as my partner.”
Gunthreon glares at him as Philip zippers his mouth shut. Gunthreon, satisfied, continues, “My purse was cut in battle, and as I selfishly scrambled to collect all my fallen gold—I had a lot—I was speared through the gut by a meeple. Ladimer came to my rescue. He laid his hands on me, mending my insides.
“I fell unconscious, and in my unconsciousness,” says Gunthreon, “my power came alive twofold. Disoriented as I awoke, the last thing I remembered was the meeple standing over me, shoving its talon into my belly so I persuaded the one bending over me to tear out his own eye. The pain I felt soon afterward was even worse than that talon, for I had hurt my best friend.”
He turns to Philip. “I am truly sorry for what I did. You have to know this, Ladimer. I tried following your whereabouts for decades, hoping to tell you of my regrets, but since you can change your appearance, it has proved too difficult to find you.”
“Oh,” I say, not knowing what else to say. Gunthreon and Philip stare at each other, exchanging no words. I breathe in deeply, and with my mind open, feel the energy emanating from them both. I attempt to caress the hurt they both feel.
“Kailey!” I am suddenly interrupted by Bu and jump in my seat. I look to Gunthreon and Philip who are both staring at me with their mouths open, aware of what I was attempting. Gunthreon then smiles at me.
“I am sorry, Kailey. Bu was bad. Bu was late.” Awake now, Bu comes to me quickly and wraps his giant arms around me. I feel I must remember to discuss with him the importance of hygiene, because man, he stinks. He’s crying, lighting up the room—a daily occurrence, it seems.
“Don’t feel bad, Bu. You can’t protect me all the time,” I say. “But Bu, you have to be honest with me. Have you been outside my door?” He nods his head. I then query, “Did you know this greble was going to attack me?”
His gaze turns to Kioto and she licks his hand, coaxing him to tell me something. Philip nods sternly toward him, and the look of submission on Bu’s face tells me he indeed knows something of importance.
“Bu heard talking at home,” replies Bu. “Big grebles were talking to the ugly bunny. Bu heard your name. So Bu come and watch your door.” He gets up and walks away from us, his anger and remorse fueling his temper. He turns to me and says, “Bu go get them. They hurt you!” And with this, he disappears.
“Damn!” yells Gunthreon, with enough power to slightly shake the room. Philip and I exchange glances, not expecting that out of Gunthreon’s mouth. I’m not sure why the room shook. “They will kill him, or even worse, not kill him, but torture him. No, this is not going to happen. I need to go to him, now!”
I can see how special Bu is to Gunthreon. “Gunthreon, I want to help,” I say. “Don’t go alone, please. This is all because of me.”
Philip sighs. “Me, too,” he adds. “I will help however you can use me. I will travel to Renhala if you will it. I’m bored here anyway.” On his feet, he lifts his head from the bow he has given Gunthreon, his mannerisms not fitting his small frame. Adulthood peeks through the cracks, and I see someone other than Philip—instead, a man doing his best to eat his pride. This is the closest to an apology I think Gunthreon will get from him.
“You have no idea what you are getting yourself into,” warns Gunthreon. “Kailey, you’re so new, and Ladimer, you’ve been gone for so long. Bu’s Gernwood is the worst it’s ever been, its evil multiplying exponentially by the day.”
“I’m scared shitless, and may faint at any particular moment,” I pause, “but I am drawn to the idea of helping you, Gunthreon. I’m willing to jump in. If I don’t, I may only barricade myself in my apartment. And, ain’t it best that the insane keep the insane for company?” I pause as both of them stare at me. “I just need to know what Bu meant by ‘the ugly bunny.’ That kind of scares me.”
“It’s a meeple, Kailey—a cute little fuzzy meeple.”
I recall the image flashing across Spirit Cave’s television above the bar—the one of the taloned rabbit. Then I imagine images of Gunthreon getting speared through the gut in battle. “You mean to tell me these deadly things are cute, little, fuzzy bunnies with talons?”
Gunthreon nods his head.
“They’re here, in my realm!”
He nods again and says, “They’ve captured several, but it seems they all oddly disappear.”
Philip stands before us. “If you want to save Bu, we have to leave now. No time for dawdling.” He’s frank, that’s for sure. “The meeples have not kept their distance from me, Gunthreon. They know where I am. I’ve seen them at night, at my balcony door. They’ve begun travelling here in throngs. Something big’s going down.”
“The scratches?” I ask. “That’s what those scratches are from?” Creepy. My pocket suddenly feels heavy and I reach in, forgetting I had put my pendulum there. I pull it out.
Gunthreon sees it and says, “Did you happen to have that in your pocket when the greble attacked you?”
“Yes.”
“Great. We will use it to find Bu. Good job, Kailey.”
“Cool.” I guess I do cool things now, and don’t even realize it.
Gunthreon grabs my hand and says, “Let’s go.”
Chapter 15
Repulsive
The travel to Renhala is like sneezing, or even blinking an eye. One moment, I’m standing in my room, and the next, I’m standing on a mulched path in the middle of a forest of black trees. It’s less foggy than what I previously experienced, but the air feels sticky and mucky. There are puddles of the pus-filled goo scattered here and there. “Why has the fog lifted?” I ask.
Gunthreon turns to me. “With each travel, you get more acquainted, if you will, with Renhala,” he says as he swats off a bug—half spider, half dragonfly—which has landed on his arm. “At the start, your mind has problems grasping the concept, hence the fog. You sort of teeter in-between until you get the hang of it. When you kn
ow where you want to be, you just arrive, with no fuzziness. Clear as crystal.” Sure, that’s what he says.
I pull out the pendulum and hold it before me. It just hangs, lifeless.
Kioto is beside me, right up against my leg, with every step I take. During our first attempt at leaving, we tried putting her in my front room and closed the bedroom door behind us, but somehow, she ended up with us in Renhala. I don’t even know how to travel yet, but my damn dog evidently does.
Gunthreon said animals have the natural ability to travel and she must have really wanted to be at my side. Now I think I have a clue how the cats and dogs in news stories really journey thousands of miles to find their owners. Kioto’s a stubborn one, I’ll give her that, but I’d never trade her in a million years.
Gunthreon and Philip walk away from me, chit chatting amongst themselves, not knowing I’m purposefully giving them some privacy. I’m glad they’re at least on talking terms, because the animosity could have suffocated me. And I couldn’t imagine anything pulling me and Amber apart like that. I’d miss her too much, even if she is the biggest pain in the ass.
Growing more nervous with each growl from Kioto at some unseen creatures of the forest, I start fiddling around with my pendulum, kind of recklessly. “Come on, already,” I mutter. “What are those two talking about?” I mutter to myself, and then see Gunthreon look over his shoulder toward me. I shoo him forward and mouth, “I’m okay,” and continue following them at a brief distance, despite having my fear barometer ready to burst. I keep a hand in my pocket, caressing my braided silver ring, grounding myself.
A sudden howling noise from the forest makes me jump two feet straight up in the air, causing me to fumble my pendulum and drop it. It falls hard and cracks against a rock, breaking the pendulum in half, vertically. I cry to myself as I stand, staring at it. Why am I doing this? Maybe I’m in purgatory. I must have died. I’m paying for my sins, surely.
A small gnat-type bug then lands on my hand and bites me as I squish it. I bend over and pick up my broken pendulum. Shit. Great, what am I going to do now? Gunthreon may kill me, or Philip—Ladimer. After all, that’s his thing, right? But I pull myself together. What I need is glue—something sticky.
A quick spin reveals one of the gross puddles of gook. I ponder whether it might be sticky enough to keep the halves together. Deciding to take the risk, I stick the smallest part of my finger in the goo. Kioto watches me closely, sniffing the goo and sticking her tail between her legs. The goo doesn’t melt me or kill me, and it is sticky, so what the heck? I dip half the stone in the slop, only to find that I need to force my finger out before it and my whole body are pulled into the puddle.
I then attach the other side, just as Ladimer and Gunthreon walk back over to me.
“Kailey, take out your pendulum and ask it what direction we should head.” Gunthreon doesn’t seem so happy, and Philip is frowning. “And get away from that stuff. You don’t want to fall into that.”
I turn so that they can’t really see the pendulum fully, then start asking out loud if Bu is located in each direction. Once I get the circle motion, I say, “It says that way.” I point.
“Just what we thought, but we needed some confirmation,” says Gunthreon. “Thank you.” They continue on with their own conversation, which seems to have heated up a bit.
Phew. I shove the pendulum in my pocket and feel it fall apart as the sharp point cuts my fingertip.
Another howl has me and Kioto running to stand near Philip and Gunthreon. I scan the area for hidden grebles. “Gunthreon,” I say, “that greble that attacked me told me he brought me to Renhala. Is that possible?” He nods. “How? Why?” I say.
Gunthreon and Philip exchange a brief glance, and Gunthreon talks first. “Not sure exactly why, and actually how is also questionable. Travelers can take people with them back and forth, but the one ‘bringing’ had to have already been to where they’re going, at least once in their life. Understand?” I nod, then freeze as I realize what Gunthreon is telling me—that the greble somehow knew where I lived. “Kailey,” Gunthreon says, “you have to know what you are up against, and how unpredictably vicious these creatures can be, whatever their motives. While we’re here, with my powers, I can block some things for you as we walk on to find Bu, but I cannot make it all entirely pleasant.”
“So why is Bu not like them? You talk of these creatures like they’re demon spawn. What if Bu’s putting up a good front?” I say, petting Kioto’s head as we continue to walk through the dark forest, trying to ignore the scurrying sounds of little feet on the forest floor. I see one of those raccoon things peek out from behind a tree stump as we walk by and Kioto growls.
Gunthreon shakes his head as his face softens. “He’s not. Bu’s an exception, as was his mother. You see, she was abandoned by her clan at birth because of her small size and was found by a weary traveler. This traveler took pity on the creature, despite knowing what it was and where it came from, so it took this creature with it on its many journeys. Bu’s mother was raised outside the greble world and treated like the traveler’s own child for many a year. She learned sympathy and kindness, and what it was to provide love and warmth to another creature.
“In time, as she grew bigger and bigger, the lands outside of the greble boundaries wanted nothing to do with her, so for her own safety, the traveler brought Bu’s mother back to the greble lands. She also thought she could make a difference in the greble community—maybe instill some values. She did her best to fit in, sneaking kind acts here and there, and eventually became pregnant with Bu. As he grew, she instilled her own values in him, nurturing him and forming him into the lovely soul we know today. Before Bu’s mother’s untimely death by the hands of a jealous female, babe and mother traveled often to see the traveler, and the day before she died, she made the traveler promise one thing: to watch over the child when she was no longer around to do so.
“Bu was kept by his father’s clan, but he snuck out every chance he could to meet the traveler, and they grew to love each other very much.”
Philip then decides to add to the conversation. “Yeah, yeah. Guess who the traveler is, blah, blah. Well, hopefully we can do this quickly. My ideal plan is we find Bu, convince him how stupid he is, and bring him home. Done,” he says.
“He’s only trying to protect something he cares about,” says Gunthreon.
“I know how that plays out, all too well, don’t I, Gunthreon? How stupid a mistake it can be.”
“Come on!” My nerves can no longer take the bickering. “If you don’t stop this, I will refuse doing anything you ask and just run and ask the nearest helpful greble if he’s seen Bu. How would you like that?” The horror on their faces confirms I’ve made them realize they need to stop.
Gunthreon starts leading us west, I think. There are small noises and whispers on the wind, and it stinks like mildew. Occasionally, I see more of the raccoon creatures scurrying about, foraging—or so it seems. I almost feel like they’re following us. Maybe they are, because they know we’ll die and can eat our carcasses. Maybe my eyes taste good.
We pass several ruined buildings, all built very roughly, and I swear one owns a set of giant yellow eyes. The eyes watch us walk by, and I get a strong whiff of putrid egg.
Gunthreon spots the pair of eyes, too. “You must know that the grebles are very selfish creatures and will do whatever they can for themselves,” he says. “Most likely, that one we passed will not let anyone know, but rather follow us to see if we have anything it wants.”
We continue, but not for long. We abruptly stop, and I almost faint from the hideous scene hanging before me. There, looming ahead, is a giant, grizzly tree of redwood proportion with hundreds of silhouettes hanging from it like warped Christmas ornaments. Upon closer examination, some are human and some are not. The unfortunate commonality among them is they are all hanged by what appears to be their intestines.
“Oh God!” I cover my mouth quickly and Kioto walks ar
ound in circles, scoping the area, and perhaps feeling the residual evil of the acts performed. I find myself tempted to cover Philip’s eyes, but he seems unfazed by the obscenity.
Instead, he stares at the display. “This is a sacrificial tree,” he mutters. “The grebles will make sacrifices—rarely, but they do it—to one known as Devoten, one of Velopa’s top men. He prefers the whole hanging, intestinal-noose thing. He is demon spawn, as you call it.”
“Let’s keep walking,” Gunthreon suggests as he leads us. We continue walking in quiet, for fear of awakening anything hungry. I see Gunthreon and Philip exchange glances every now and then, most likely agreeing to cover something up from me, as Gunthreon whispers me suggestions, like “Don’t be afraid.” And “Kailey, imagine you’re watching your favorite movie.”
I know one thing—they both seem to have missed the woman lying behind a broken-down wagon with only stumps as appendages. Her face was also missing a nose.
Kioto keeps turning and checking behind us, growling as we continue on. She doesn’t like those raccoons any more than I do. They only follow, though, apparently not wanting to do anything else. I even see one attack a small, gray, mouse-ish creature that lunges at my foot.
Gunthreon stops before a tall, creepy tower that seems to hold some authority. It makes my skin tingle and leaves me feeling strongly nauseated as we stand before it. I bend over, holding my stomach, feeling the retching about to be unleashed. Gunthreon sees my reaction and says, “Kailey, due to your sensitivity, you must do your best to repel the energy inside.” I toss him a quick glance to tell him to eat his words, but then find myself feeling instantly better as I look to Kioto, who is staring into my face. She licks the tear which falls quickly from my eye and I stand up straight.
“This is it,” Gunthreon says. “Don’t be frightened of the ceetchans that have been following us. They’re attracted to Ladimer, well at least his abilities.”
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