Immortality's Touchstone

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Immortality's Touchstone Page 19

by Mark Tufo


  “Brilliant,” I said as I waved my hands around in front of me, trying to shield my damaged corneas as I tried to look back at the bird; he was completely blotted out and I was sure was even now coming at my face to make my temporary handicap a permanent one. When the blindness passed, I saw he still stood on the rock. Though this time, his head was cocked to the side, like he could not believe he’d wasted three days of his time leading this dumbass around.

  “I don’t have any bird biscuits, if that’s what you’re looking for.” The black eye regarded me and when it saw, or did not, what it wanted to, he turned to the piercing stare of that white one.

  Vertigo threatened to put me on my ass. I felt like my head was free floating and someone had spun it. The world was spinning by so fast...then as quickly as it had come it had gone. The teacup ride just stopped. Yet the feelings of unease would not abate quite so easily. At some point, I had sat, though I knew not when, because I’d never felt the sensation of touching down.

  “Thanks for that,” I told him as I unsteadily regained my feet. He turned so I could see his back; he stretched that incredibly long span of wings. Within two pumps he was airborne, within ten, he was out of sight.

  “Guess this is where we part company. I’d like to say I’m sad to see you go, but that would be a lie and I’m really trying to turn over a new leaf.” I could hear sounds not too far away: growling and grumbling—sounded like a fight, and not a human one. It appeared I’d found what I had been looking for, but I certainly wasn’t happy about it. “Can’t make up your own fucking mind today, can you, Talbot?”

  “If you don’t shut the fuck up, I am going to punch you right in the mouth.” Then I began to dwell on the dynamics of that. Could I actually get enough power behind that kind of hit to do myself any sort of damage that would make the threat viable? I knew I was stalling. Wouldn’t you? I was heading toward Lycan; no sane, rational, human in the history of mankind willingly heads toward them. “You should be fine then,” I said aloud. Sometimes I’m such a jerk.

  As I approached, the smell got worse. The best I could describe it was like an old city dump with a healthy layer of spoiled milk on top just to add that nice, sour, nose-wrinkling nuance. When I came out of the woods onto a dirt patch not much bigger than a baseball field, I thought I had the wrong animals. These Lycan were mangy—thin enough to be considered emaciated. They were stooped over; more than a few fighting for the discarded leftovers of what looked like a couple of chipmunks or something equally as delicate. These once proud monsters were a shell of their former selves. Everything came to a screeching halt when I was discovered. I had to think that at first they were counting their blessings at the boon that had been laid at their feet and then they caught the more subtle under-scent I carried with me.

  They were quaking with the desire to either run at me and take a chance or run away and save themselves. It was a coin-flip either way. Whatever direction any one of them took, the rest would follow. For obvious reasons, I didn’t want them to attack, but I didn’t want them to run, either. I’d never get them to listen with me chasing after them.

  “Hold on a second.” I put my hands up. Somehow they got more wary. They seemed cornered, and cornered animals are notoriously unpredictable.

  One of the Lycan that seemed a little grubbier than the rest spoke first. “What do you want, Old One?” He coughed out those last words in the form of a growl as if he’d choked on them.

  “What happened to the bold and mighty Lycan? You are living in squalor eating animals usually reserved for snakes.”

  I wasn’t too sure this was a great tact. I was agitating them.

  “Lunos said you were dead,” he said. As he came a step closer, I realized he wasn’t that dirty, he just had very dark fur. Nearly black—like the damned bird. Was this another sign? I’d never seen this color before on a Lycan, and had not a clue if it boded well for me or not.

  “Lunos tends to lie.”

  The Lycan bristled. They prided themselves on their straightforwardness of their race. They had no need to deceive. They just used brute force to take what they wanted, but even they could not deny Lunos’ duplicity.

  “You are yet one more example of this,” the dark one conceded. “Answer my question, Old One. I grow weary of your presence.”

  “What is your name? We have a great many things to talk about; we may need to get to know each other...or not,” I added when I saw drool dripping from more than a dozen muzzles.

  The beast hesitated answering, as if I were a witch and I could gain power by knowing its name.

  “Mikota,” it finally said.

  “Are you the leader here?”

  He let out three loud barks and snapped at me twice. “We have no more use for leaders. Xavier saw to that. He has done his best to destroy us.”

  “Yet it is you above these others that I am talking to.”

  “There is some hierarchy...a sense of structure, but no leader. Never again can we go down that dark path. Our kind have been suffering ever since—lost, purposeless. The once united clans fought deadly battles amongst themselves for resources after you slayed him. Some tried to continue on in Xavier’s place, but were immediately toppled. Even Lunos, the great coward, tried. I almost killed him myself when I chased him away. If not for the four of his tainted ones he uses for protection, I would have sliced him open like a bloated carcass.”

  “You would have done us all a great service if you had, Mikota.” I used his name to try and bridge the gulf between us. If the snarl was any indication, it hadn’t worked so well. Diplomacy has never been a strong suit for me.

  Mikota clearly wanted to kill me, but he was also smart enough to be curious about my last words. I could not wait for him to ask questions, though. The other Lycan were cautiously closing the gap between us. Without a true leader, they were free to do as they wanted, when they wanted. And, of course, we’re talking about Lycan here; it’s not like they are rational. Who the fuck knows what they’re going to do at any particular moment? I know I’ve said it before, but it’s worth noting again, just how fucking large these beasts are. Gorillas and Lycan are roughly the same size and gorillas are terrifying. The key difference is that gorillas, for the most part, want nothing to do with people, whereas Lycan want everything to do with them, at least, the edible parts. If an adult gorilla had a mind to wage hand to hand combat, I don’t think twenty men, hale of health, would stand a chance. With the Lycan, the odds were worse. Every part of them, including their intelligence, had evolved to hunt Man. Danger did not even begin to describe this adversary.

  “Lunos is hunting humans into extinction,” I blurted out when the two animals on my right got dangerously close to striking distance. “Have you noticed how difficult it is to obtain food? Of course, you have.” I was looking around. “Or else you wouldn’t be eating gophers or whatever the fuck you’ve got there.”

  Mikota looked hard at the two near me. Could just as easily have been the “green light” to attack, instead, they eased off.

  “Your kind are fighting for scraps while Lunos and his army of tainted ones gorge.”

  The Lycan pretty much simultaneously growled when I said “tainted ones”. I now had my hot-point keyword. Hopefully, I could play it all the way to the election. Trust me, I had a moment where I thought maybe I could just say “tainted ones” over and over and the Lycan would follow me like I was the pied piper or some shit. Yes, my mind can even wander when I am face to face with somewhere in the neighborhood of a city bus's weight worth of enemy ready to destroy me.

  “Lunos has somehow made an alliance with the werewolves; they willingly do his bidding. He is also in league with a man of magic. He’s destroyed Robert’s Land, and Denarth is next. Soon he will be powerful enough to take down Talboton, and when that is done, there will be nothing left to stop him.” I pressed on. “Listen. I can see why you might not want to fight with man, basically, we are your food source. Personally, I would think it kind of
funny to fight alongside cows to combat a bear army. But if someone told me I could never have another cheeseburger unless I helped, I definitely would.” What the fuck are you doing Talbot? This dialog going on in the background; it took all I had to keep from distracting myself. Are you truly asking a mortal enemy to aid us? An enemy, mind you, that once this war is over and we somehow became victorious will ultimately turn around and go back to hunting us. In this case, I decided, the devil you know is still an asshole.

  I could see Mikota thinking this through; that perhaps vegetarianism was a long overdue trait for his people. The death of mankind could only help his people; make things better for all Lycan. Tough to sell this opinion to the rest, though. People had been a main staple of theirs since there were Lycan. Might as well tell Eskimos they could not have any more fish or Vietnamese they could no longer have rice or even worse, tell the Russians that vodka was now off the table. There’d be rioting in the streets.

  “Hold on to this little thought, too, Mikota. When Lunos is done with man, where do you think he’s going to turn his attention next? He will consider any Lycan not at his side a major threat to his hold on power, and he will have you completely weakened by taking away your main food source. He will destroy Lycan as he destroys man.”

  This successfully enraged Mikota. He let rip a howl that had to have shredded the lining of his throat. I was surprised when I did not see thin strips of bloody meat spew forth from his mouth. Add to that, I wasn’t sure if Mikota was pissed off that I had implied the downfall of Lycan or that Lunos would do such a traitorous thing. The ground beneath my stance seemed very unsettled and willing to crack wide open at the slightest provocation. “Don’t know why I continually build skyscrapers on faulty earth,” I mumbled.

  Mikota looked up to the tops of the trees.

  “I said that shit out loud, didn’t I.” It had a questioning phrase to it but it was most certainly a statement. “Weird. You do know what a skyscraper is, though, right?”

  “I have been to the New city of York.”

  “Are you kidding me? To catch an opera? Wait, I bet a baseball game. Should have known you’d be a Yankees fan. Or were you there to see the Cats musical?”

  Mikota growled; maybe he thought I was mocking him, or it was just that I’d thrown out a bunch of words he might not have a complete grasp on. That would piss off just about anybody, and we all know how good at that shit I am.

  “How long?” grumbled from his chest.

  “Need a little more information, Mikota. If you’re talking about his destruction of Mankind, it could be as quickly as a month. I know of no other strongholds than those I mentioned. I know that the Landians range across far expanses of land, but they do not have a central stronghold. Not sure if Lunos would feel compelled to hunt them down first, or come straight for you. At the very most you have six weeks to two months before he comes your way.”

  “We could run,” one of the Lycan hanging back said. He looked like he already had one foot heading in that direction.

  “Yeah, you could,” I addressed him. “Could probably outpace him fairly easily, as well. It’s hell moving an army with a prolonged speed. With only a modicum of luck, you could probably dodge him for the rest of your unnaturally long life. Then what? Food is scarce, you’re always looking over your shoulder, you’ll have to move from place to place...is that the legacy you want to hand down to your young?”

  That wasn’t exactly going to pull heartstrings among the Lycan. For all the similarities they had with wolves, they lacked much of the socializing aspect.

  “The Old One said we could live if we leave this place.” This one was certainly not the altruistic one of the bunch.

  “Quiet your tongue, Cain,” Mikota told him.

  Cain? Figures. This I made abundantly sure to not say aloud.

  “You were the first to stand by Xavier’s side as long as it was the werewolves doing the fighting. Now that the very army we helped build is being turned against us, you would run and hide as if you played no part?” Mikota had turned and squared off with Cain, either to show his dominance or to make sure he wasn’t sucker slashed.

  There was a spark of resentment, or rebellion, in Cain’s eyes, though he did not act upon it. Cowards hardly ever do, unless they are assured of victory. Once Mikota was certain Cain had backed down, he turned back to me.

  “We will come with you.”

  “I hate to look a gift Lycan square in that fang-laced maw of yours, but are you talking about the dozen here?”

  “I am.”

  “That’s not enough, Mikota. He has thousands.”

  “I cannot go to the clans and ask for aid for something I have not seen myself.”

  “I know from dealing with Xavier and his bastard brother that you guys are super-intelligent, but for some reason, you don’t seem to be getting it. He is wiping out vast swaths of humanity. By the time you get to Denarth, check out the truth in my words, run back to the clans, let them know what’s going on, then get them organized and back to the city it will all be over. Your kind got us all into this mess, it’s up to your kind to fix it!” I’d moved a step to get closer to his face. A part of me noted he had not backed up; Cain did, but big deal. A mouse with a chip on his shoulder could probably have accomplished that.

  “I know no other way,” Mikota said.

  “That would be all well and fine if we had a helicopter. Just lie! Just fucking lie to the clans and tell them that you already saw it for yourself.”

  I held my breath as my words sank into his thick, hairy skull. There were the Lycan equivalents of gasps, which were more like a snarling, rabid dog reaction. Mikota did something more unusual; he laughed.

  “Perhaps it is you that is in need of a lesson, Old One. Lycan do not lie.”

  “Oh...I’ve heard that shit before. Every third word out of Lunos’ mouth is a falsehood.”

  “LUNOS IS NOT ONE OF US!” I felt the force of those words upon my face. Got covered in a fair amount of spittle as well. That’s what I get for wanting to get all up close and personal.

  I wiped my face with my sleeve. “Maybe he isn’t. We both know he should have died at the gleaning, and definitely Xavier should have taken care of the problem when he resurfaced later. He didn’t. So we’re stuck with the mess.”

  “Old One, it is you that is not understanding what is happening here. Your kind are the masters of deception; you have so perfected the ways of falsehood that even the person speaking the lie believes it.” I had to yield him that point. “The only reason I am of the belief that I need to see first what is happening at all is because you sought us out to tell us this news. If we had stumbled upon you, I would have thought it merely a ploy to keep us from killing you.”

  “Why would I lie now, Mikota? A trap? Are you thinking this is some elaborate way to get all the Lycan together to start another war? Do humans seem in any way capable of dealing with another conflict?”

  “Yet your kind do it all the time.”

  “Point taken. This is like having a debate with an obstinate child.”

  “You equate me to a child?” Mikota was offended.

  “Only in that you are unyielding of your position. What if you take me to the clans? Would they listen?”

  “They will listen.”

  “Way too literal. Will they act upon my words?”

  “I am under the belief that they will either send Lycan out to verify the authenticity of your statement or just kill you and turn their backs. It is difficult to say in which direction they would go.”

  “This is insane. Do you know how long it will take to get to Denarth from here?” I asked.

  “Do you wish to know how long it would take you? Or us?” he asked back.

  “Both.”

  “Four days for my group here; seven for you. Although, now that I look upon you, I say twelve.”

  He had not meant it as a barb or a way to anger me; it was his honest opinion. He cared little for any emotion i
t might elicit.

  “Let’s assume I can hang with your initial estimate and make it in under a week. How long from Denarth to the clans?”

  “Seven days.”

  “Okay—let me do the math on this. We leave now, we get to Denarth in seven days.” I looked over to him, he snorted in derision. “My friends’ lives depend on me getting there as fast as I can. When we arrive, you get convinced that I speak the truth, spend an hour or two apologizing for your lack of faith in me, then you head back. That’s another week. You convince the clans to come, it’s another week back. You’re close to three weeks before you can engage our enemy.”

  “There are many factors you have not taken into account, Old One. We will need to rest a day once we get to your Denarthian city. When we get back to a clan, they will need to send word out to other clans. That could be an additional fourteen to twenty-one days.”

  “Did you not hear a fucking word I said? It will be too late by then!”

  “I will leave this place now, Old One, and never look back. Is that a better outcome?”

  I did a couple of small circles like a dog figuring the best place to lay a deuce. “Wait, wait, wait,” I said, stopping in front of him. “Is there anyone here you trust?”

  “They are my brothers and sisters, I trust them all.”

  “Fine, anyone but Cain, that name has traditionally been discredited in my world. Can you send one or two of them back? Maybe they can get the clans together before you bring news back.”

 

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