The Python of Caspia

by Michael Green

  Sooner or later I'll wake up, and I'll forget all about this, but until then—crazy impossible liquid wall, make way. I'm coming in.

  Andy took a deep breath, as if before a dive, and stepped through.

  On the other side, he was stunned by the immediate impression that he had grown into a giant.

  The hall that had been there a moment ago was replaced by fortified mountainsides, and the ceiling above was ribbed like the roof of a cathedral. Turrets and crenellations looked carved from the mountain walls. Ballistae and catapults pointed squarely at him. But everything was miniature. The weapons and walkways and stairs were all made for people about half a foot tall. To his sides stood other doorways, though only the one he had just come through looked fluid. The others were blank.

  It's a miniature fortress, but it's still huge. Did the mice do this? Everything is their size. They must guard these doors.

  He leaned in to examine the weaponry and noticed the Infiniteye and several other symbols carved into the archways and facades of the fortifications. He heard scurrying, but saw nothing. He wondered if they had noticed him yet, and if they would try to kill him for intruding.

  A glow came from up ahead, and he heard the faint echoes of conversation. The mountain fortress surrounded a nicely paved valley floor wide enough for Andy to pass through.

  The floor was slick beneath his feet; he looked down and noticed that it was made of miniature cobblestones. A canal ran down the center, barely a few inches deep.

  He moved forward, his hands outstretched for balance, and brushed against the carved fortress and delicate weapons running up the valley. He heard their conversation more clearly. It sounded like someone giving a speech.

  “And this is why we must not take a new Seer into our protection!”

  “No!” Yelled an adamant voice. “Times may be difficult, the Vychy may have won many to their side, but what would be better proof of our worth than arming a new Seer?”

  He heard voices cheering in assent, others booing disagreement.

  “Arm him? To what end? You want to see the Usurper lead another child to his death!”

  The conversation was baffling.

  Andy continued, but the mountain pass ended in a right turn. As he approached the curve, he saw the cavern roof reaching higher. There were arcing vines, reminiscent of ivy, racing upwards with the curve of the ceiling. Pulses of light glowed in waves up one strand of vines, then the next. The vines shimmered with many colors, but silver was predominant.

  It's like the holidays, if people put lights on the sky.

  Turning the corner, he saw chains stretching across the way at odd angles, blocking his progress. He felt the chains were intended to impede large things, like him, from penetrating any further. He reached out and grasped the first set of chains.

  Maybe I can fit—

  He lifted a leg and got half of himself through before he heard a shrill cry. It sounded like a tiny horn.

  Did they spot me?

  He finished pulling himself through and saw an absolute swarm of mice mount the battlements all around. They formed up in ranks on the ground before him, halberds arrayed like the spines of a hedgehog. They wore small suits of plate armor over simple robes.

  Yeah—they spotted me.

  “I'm not an enemy!” Andy insisted, as teams of mice readied the ballistae.

  He felt the urge to do a little smashing if they became violent, but after a few seconds he realized how surrounded he was. There were thousands, and they would have him riddled in seconds.

  Andy put up his hands.

  The white mouse with the red face called out for order in the crowd. “This is our boy! Our new Seer! He's found us already! It is proof that the blood is strong! Lower your weapons this instant!”

  The burgundy mouse disagreed. “No! No! He has invaded our colony! Fire! You on the parapets, fire!”

  The mouse with the red face drew a heavy broadsword. The burgundy drew his own, and the crowd was on the verge of violence.

  “Peace! Peace in the halls!” A powerful, if mouse sized, voice echoed through the pass and stilled the heated crowd.

  They all lowered their weapons and gazed upward. Standing on a balcony at the tallest level was a venerable silver mouse. He raised his paw in a call for order.

  “The praetor!” Andy heard them mutter back and forth.

  The silver mouse continued, “We will treat the boy with the rights due his kind. If he is found capable, he will be shown the path, no more. Put up your arms and uphold your vows! Break the chains and part the towers! We have company!”

  Chapter 7

  Runaway Cygnus

  Andy balked before the small, encircling army, as a team of mice crawled out onto the chains and unlocked them. The chain mice turned keys in locks and swung with the chains as they fell away from the path. The hedgehog of spikes gently poked him forward.

  So much trouble just to open the door. They probably don’t get too many guests down here. The burgundy mouse was leering his way. Especially if that one has any say. It looks like he and my friend with the red face give orders, but they are both junior to the silver mouse.

  As they led him deeper, Andy gawked at miniature mountains, turned upside down and floating above the floor. They were different sizes, but most looked to be ten feet tall. Each mountain was carved through with arches, stairs, and halls. He could see right through the galleries of one, out onto the face of the next. These mountains hung in the air, a couple feet from the ground, and each was tied in place with half a dozen chains of its own. He saw one rigged with a series of propellers and rudders casting a hook down to a large ring on the ground. It was coming in to land.

  Mice pedaled the propellers into reverse and slowed the mountain’s descent.

  Still more were being fitted with their own propellers, while one, in a docking area, was having its removed.

  Chains stretched between cleats recessed in the cobbled floor, while others linked the mountains in a network. Andy watched the mice work to move these aside. There were so many parked that they hemmed him in.

  The mice unhitched their mountains from the floor in large teams of dozens to a chain. As they moved their mountain cities, a path slowly opened for him. He counted over twenty such mountain blocks moved for his sake.

  He wanted to ask questions and thank them for being polite, though he couldn’t help feeling like he was in some trouble. When the silver mouse called out orders and names he didn't recognize, mice rushed from the mob to obey.

  The burgundy mouse gestured with hostility, while speaking to his cadre. Andy couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he noticed a distinct group forming around the burgundy mouse. None of these looked pleased about his presence. Many bright colors speckled the mice, but teal clothing prevailed on or around the faces that looked at him coldly.

  “I said, Gula cohort! Detach Cygnus!” The silver mouse commanded for the second time. Andy sensed a collective nervous twitch. The Gulas had missed an order from the silver mouse.

  “Aye praetor!” Called the burgundy mouse, evidently their leader. “Gulas! Double quick, to the Cygnus!”

  With that, his mice spilled out of the mob, their teal robes fluttering, and raced to a mountain block, quickly unchaining it. Their weapons and armor clanked as they moved. They had stacked their halberds into standing pyramids, interlocking their heads so they remained upright. A few mice guarded the weapons, while others, more agile than most, climbed the chains. The rest, led by the biggest and strongest, arrayed themselves on the released chains to pull the floating mountain.

  It looks like the pressure on those chains is pulling skyward. Those mountains want to float away.

  Andy was charmed by the sight, but it was all beyond reason. He wondered what else didn’t make sense down here.

  He wanted to ask about the floating mountains, or why the burgundy mouse considered him such a threat. More than that, he wanted to ask what would happen to him, but he wouldn�
��t risk upsetting them. The field of points following at his heels underscored that doubt. Not helping matters was the torrent of shrill cries and the general ruckus produced by thousands of industrious mice.

  The silver mouse appeared from the fortifications with his armored bodyguards. Both praetor and his guard were clad in gleaming plated armor, and where the praetor wore a purple cape, the guard wore purple sashes and plumes in their helms.

  Andy noticed that Cygnus, the nearest mountain block, didn't move out of his way at the same speed the others had. He had to slow and stop as he was now face to face with the floating mountain.

  A child mouse in a window wailed at seeing Andy, a giant, peeking into his window.

  “Gulas! Report!” A mouse in purple fringe called out.

  There were cries of alarm and a sudden rush as the mountain slammed into Andy. He stumbled backwards and saw the field of halberds ready to catch him if he fell.

  “Nope!” Andy declared. He reached out and grabbed Cygnus.

  His fingers ripped through walls and furniture before grasping tight.

  “Sorry! I'm sorry!” He said to the chorus of screams that echoed through the mountain block.

  With a gasp, Andy realized that Cygnus was pulling him off the ground.

  “I'm going up!” he said, his toes scraping the floor.

  “Dextra! To the boy!” The mouse with the red face led his brigade in a lightning-fast climb up Andy's legs and arms, into Cygnus.

  The mouse with the red face was on his shoulder in a flash and desperate for his attention. “Lysander!”

  “What do we do?” Andy cried.

  “Hold! We're moving the civilians to the upper levels, so you can get a better grip.”

  “Okay, then what?”

  “One step at a time! Just don’t slip off!” The mouse left his shoulder to direct the others.

  Teams were coming with heavier chains. They climbed up his legs. Andy felt like he had the strength to pull Cygnus down, but he couldn't get purchase with his feet. Worse still, his feet kicked off against another mountain in their flailing, and he suddenly felt Cygnus moving faster.

  “The bottom is clear!” The lead mouse called out to him from inside.

  Andy moved his hands to a better position, and let his body hang against the floating mountain. His feet were now a few inches off the ground. Though teams of mice were pulling at the new chains, it didn't slow Cygnus.

  Andy looked in every direction he could. “Can I get a grip on one of the other mountains?” he called out to anyone who would listen.

  “It would be too much pressure on their chains! We're moving too fast.” Andy looked into Cygnus and saw the mouse with the red face staring squarely at him. “Now isn't the best time, but I'm Titus, and I know who you are. We can't use the other blocks as ballast, and we can't allow ourselves to fly up into the cavern. If we do, Cygnus will be blasted by the storms, and we'll fall to our deaths.”

  Andy stared at Titus. “What do you want me to do?”

  “The wall! The wall!” A cry went up, and the mice were pointing off to the distance.

  Andy and Titus saw marble statues ringing the city. They were coming closer.

  “The shield wall!” Titus called out, “Use your legs to get hold!”

  Andy tried to comply but slammed into a statue. He felt his grip on Cygnus slip, but he tightened his left leg over the statue's shoulder and tried to wrap the other around the statue's neck. He had the sudden impression it was bright out, though he was staring at the gray mountainside of Cygnus. The marble of the statuary was glowing.

  “What are all these statues doing here?” Andy asked, still struggling.

  “They are our city wall,” Titus replied.

  One of Andy’s fingers lost its grip.

  “I'm slipping!”

  A team of mice wrapped a chain around a marble arm.

  “Grab hold!” Titus yelled.

  Andy reached and got a firm grip with both of his hands but his legs slipped free of the statue. The chain snapped and a stream of dust and marble chips rained down. Frightened, Andy reached with his legs, but only kicked them further away from the city.

  They were headed toward rocky and rooted ground.

  “Titus? Will those roots hold?” Andy asked.

  “They might—” Titus cupped his hands to his mouth and called out, “Chain teams, lead us to the badlands! We will tie down to the roots!”

  Two more teams had tied their chains around the thick columns of Cygnus, and jumped out to the ground, pulling in the right direction.

  After a moment they drifted closer to the roots. Andy felt his arms getting sore. He knew they wouldn’t be able to hold for much longer.

  I can't let go yet.

  “A little bit more, Andy, there are hundreds of us in here! We need you to hold!”

  Andy held.

  The chain teams howled out in victory as they hopped over the jutting roots, wrapping their chains around as they went. Andy felt some of the lateral movement in Cygnus slow as the chains tightened. His feet scraped a root.

  “No! Watch out!” A voice cried as a chain ripped free.

  Another snapped and tore chunks of the mountain away. The chain whipped out through the air and struck Andy across the side.

  He grunted with the sudden sting.

  “Cygnus is so brittle from being carved through; its structure can barely stand the pressure!” Titus yelled.

  The mice flew off the chains as they ripped away, landing in piles on the badlands.

  I've got to do something—maybe if I—

  Andy tried to get his foot under one of the jutting roots, but it slipped. He felt himself rise again.

  “Again! Wrap another chain around a root!” Andy called out to the mice.

  There was only one chain team left, but they obeyed. Andy felt Cygnus lower right before the last chain burst free. His foot grazed a root.

  There!

  He kicked and jammed his shoe beneath the root.

  “I've got it!” Andy called out.

  Andy felt Cygnus pull against his body. The root slowly lifted away from the ground. He felt his muscles and limbs stretching past their limits. He pulled and felt the root slip.

  No!

  Andy let go of Cygnus with his left hand and reached down to another root. He grabbed a hold and, with one hand grasping a root, and the other on Cygnus, he pulled with all his strength, forcing them as close together as he could.

  Cygnus cracked and shuddered. Hundreds of mice screamed, the sound echoing through Cygnus as a fracture ran up the side of the mountain.

  Andy found a foothold for his other foot, jammed it in place, and grabbed the mountain with both hands before pulling with every limb.

  “Stay with it!” Titus yelled into his ear. The mouse was hanging from his shirt collar and lending his own weight to the effort.

  Finally, Andy felt the momentum die. The mountain stopped trying to tear him in two.

  He twisted his body around and put both arms over his head to hold onto Cygnus. He pulled forward until the mountain finally rested on his shoulders.

  That's as close as it gets.

  Cygnus was at rest.

  A cheer went up from the mice.

  “Well done, Lysander!” Titus said for everyone to hear.

  “Andy, please.”

  Not daring to move, he held his position as more chains were brought and attached to Cygnus. He listened as the mice discussed what had happened. No one knew why the mountain had lunged so strongly.

  Andy felt Titus grab his collar and lean into his ear. “The Gulas, Lysander. It was blatant; I am certain that they are responsible.”

  “How do you know?” Andy asked as quietly as he could, but scores of suspicious glances came his way.

  Titus’s voice quavered as he spoke out of the side of his mouth, “Don't bother whispering, Lysander; anyone with ears can hear you.”

  Andy smiled awkwardly to the crowd as more chains
arrived to relieve him.

  The praetor came and oversaw the work. “That was a breath away from disaster, newcomer. This will work in your favor during the tests to come.”

  “Thank him!” Titus whispered in Andy’s ear.

  “Thank you, sir—”

  “Don't call him 'sir,' call him praetor!” Titus interrupted.

  “Uhm—thank you, praetor—I didn't even know what I was doing until it was over.”

  The praetor's face bent with a slight smile. “Of course. Virtue is spontaneous—particularly in the young.”

  Andy didn't know what to say.

  After a moment they asked him to let go. He slowly loosened his grip on Cygnus. Chunks of the mountain slid away as he freed his hands from its mass. Andy cringed as he dusted his hands and eyed the deep fissures running up the mountain. The chain mice had a strong grip, and they towed it back into the city.

  “What caused Cygnus to jar so strongly?” The praetor asked.

  Nobody had an answer.

  “What are we going to do about the damage? That split runs all the way to the core,” others were complaining.

  “The masons will see to the repairs, and they will investigate the source of the catastrophe.” The praetor answered the crowd as Cygnus finally stood in its place, securely chained to the ground.

  Andy stretched his arms. A dull ache filled his limbs as he finally let himself recognize the pain. He stretched and let out a slight groan, but Titus called up to him.

  “Lysander! Don't lose focus.”

  “Andy, please,” he said to Titus, who was busy calling for water and food.

  Andy sat down, taking up an indecent amount of space in a mouse plaza, and tried to ignore the aching.

  “We should have a moment to feed you before the test begins.” Titus said looking over his shoulder.

  “No prompting the invad—newcomer,” said the burgundy mouse, approaching them.

  “Be gone, Coriolus! I expect you have evidence to hide.” Titus put his paw to his sword and motioned for his brigade to form a wall between them and the Gulas.

  The soldiers faced off, but they were all wary of the mice wearing purple, who approached and scoffed. Shamed, both sides broke off.