The Python of Caspia

by Michael Green

  Titus grimaced at this.

  “What is it?” Andy asked.

  Taptalles shook his head. “Sentinel’s Watch is under siege,” he said plainly, “that’s how Titus came to be here. He was on his way back home when he learned of the attack. There is no way into the city through the besieging army.”

  “What?” Andy asked, shocked.

  Taptalles tugged at the whiskers on the right side of his face. “It isn’t unprecedented,” he said, careful of his friend, “they’ve withstood worse, but it could be ages before the attackers give up and leave.”

  Titus raised his teary face to the group. “The ryle and brutox would have no way of closing the portals. The one we want must be down there, behind a barrier.”

  “We need a plan,” Quill said deferentially to the mouse.

  Andy realized how few of them would be going home.

  Titus nodded. “Letty is a fine shot with that crossbow. She’ll take out the guards, allowing us to sneak down into the circle. Once there, we learn how to uncover the portals. If we meet an enemy, we must dispatch them quickly and quietly, or they will bring reinforcements. Remember that a large force is nearby, and it’s only a matter of time before they realize we are here.”

  They all agreed, but Andy felt hesitation.

  He grasped the Argument, but was careful not to activate it. Letty crawled forward through the undergrowth for a better shot.

  “How is she supposed to hit both of them? One will still be standing after the first shot, and he’ll raise the alarm,” Andy whispered to the group in general.

  “You haven’t seen her shoot,” Taptalles muttered.

  Looking at her crossbow Andy realized that it was more compact than the one he had used before, and there was no winch.

  How does she pull back the cord?

  She fired her first shot and a Brutox fell from the tower.

  “Good shot!” Titus whispered excitedly.

  In a flash, Letty grabbed a lever on the crossbow and pulled, arcing the cord to its nock. She lay a second bolt in place and aimed.

  The second Brutox turned to look, but was confused when it saw nothing. Andy heard the soft twang, and the remaining Brutox slumped over the guard rail.

  “Wow,” Andy whispered.

  “It’s not all me,” Letty said, brushing off the praise, “it’s mostly the bolts.” She held one up.

  Andy saw the tip sparkle with a slight trace of silver.

  “A little etherium goes a long way,” Titus said. “We might have borrowed some from the city’s stores.”

  They advanced beyond the shrub line, still moving softly and listening for any sign of more brutox. They hopped over the verge of the circle.

  “I’ll keep an eye out,” Andy said, looking down the road. He remembered it from his time with Quill. Andy felt a strange sense of dysphoria as memories of all that had happened since flashed through his mind.

  It’s like a different person walked down that road, what was it, just a few days ago?

  “Look, they’ve painted planks and leaned them up against the portals,” Staza said, removing one of the planks.

  Andy saw a small string that was recessed in the earth pull away. It was tied to the plank.

  “Wait!” He clenched his fist and swiped at the string with his blade, but it was too late.

  A loud shriek pierced the silence, the noise was reminiscent of a tinny fire engine.

  “The planks were rigged!” Titus yelled.

  The noise was almost deafening, and the shock of it froze them all with fright.

  “What now?” Quill cried, readying his trident.

  “Quick, pull them all down and find the right portal!” Letty yelled, reaching for one and tearing it down.

  They ran to the planks and pulled them away. As they did so, the siren blared.

  Andy rushed to the source of the sound. A strange looking speaker was secreted in a barrel near the base of the rebuilt tower. He summoned the blade and sliced the barrel in two, silencing the noise, and revealing the mechanisms and canisters within.

  “Good! There are only a few more,” Taptalles said, grasping tightly to Letty’s shoulder.

  A sudden glow of torches sprung up from the grass.

  Brutox marched towards the circle. Andy saw one that was quite tall and pale.

  “I’ll hold them off, keep searching!” Andy turned to the encroaching mass.

  The brutox were wary of his blade, but, after a brave few hunched and made to attack, the rest readied themselves for the fight. Andy wasn’t sure which would attack first when a beetle charged.

  He struck it down, and then raced to cleave a second that had followed. They collapsed into heaps of purple sand. The brutox clicked in frustration and pulled back. The pale brutox watched passively.

  I must keep them out of the circle.

  Andy heard a whistle past his ear and a third brutox fell.

  The light from the now exposed portals glinted off the many glossy surfaces. Carapace and weapon alike shimmered as the mass of warriors spread out, each looking for an opening.

  “Still alive?” A voice whispered, just inches away from Andy’s ears.

  Andy swung wide at the voice, but there was nothing there.

  “I’m here.”

  Andy swung again.

  Nothing.

  Then Andy saw. The crowd of brutox parted. His lithe frame was sheathed in glowing armor and floating above his open palm was a purple orb, far denser than Andy’s Argument.

  Ziesqe.

  Andy glanced over his shoulder and saw there were only a few panels left standing. He hoped Titus remembered which one to take.

  Wait. Ziesqe is here—he can follow us through!

  “I have never experienced a Seer in the wild before,” Ziesqe said in a curious tone.

  A sudden certainty creeped upon Andy. I’m not going home.

  He resigned himself to delaying the enemy to allow his friends time for escape.

  Taking a breath, Andy finally spoke, “Do you always hide behind your slaves?”

  The brutox jutted forward at his question, but a quick hiss from Ziesqe pulled them back.

  “When you rule as much as I do, you begin to see many things as mere extensions of oneself.” He flexed his clawed fingers and gestured widely to his brutox. “They, through force, make even my speech a hundred-fold more potent than you.”

  “Andy!” Letty yelled, “We’ve got it!”

  He saw them gathered around a portal. Titus and Taptalles waved for him to pull back and rout with them.

  Almost involuntarily, Andy stepped back at the call.

  The brutox, sensing his retreat, lunged.

  Andy struck one’s axe from its hands before slicing it in two. A second leaped, its sword high and slicing downward. Andy raised his blade a moment too late. The blade grazed across his unarmored shoulder. Pain shot through his body.

  “Andy, run!” The voices yelled. He felt like they were still a mile away.

  Ziesqe snapped his claws, and again his warriors pulled back. He pointed to the giant pale brutox who happily leveled its double sword.

  Seeing the weapon held aloft, Andy remembered its height, taller than himself.

  I can’t fight that.

  He turned to run.

  “I will come for your family,” Ziesqe said, his voice almost sad.

  Andy stopped, recalling Pythia’s words.

  He turned his back to the outraged screams of his friends.

  “Kill my champion now, and I will leave them be.”

  The pale brutox rushed. Andy rolled to dodge the blow.

  “How can I trust you?” Andy yelled, barely parrying a strike.

  The colossal weapon deflected his blade. It was nightsteel.

  As he backed away, Andy heard a low rumbling. At first, he wasn’t sure what it was.

  The brutox pressed against Andy’s guard, knocking him backwards. As Andy stumbled, the brutox lunged, elbowing him sharply acr
oss the face.

  Andy hit the ground. The brutox grabbed him by the throat and lifted him high into the air. The silver blade fluttered out.

  Andy clutched at the armored fist, but it held fast. The rumble sharpened and increased in intensity.

  He’s laughing.

  Andy saw the other brutox had surrounded him and were fighting Quill and Staza at the portal.

  A sharp whistle cracked and thudded into the brutox’s shoulder. An etherium-tipped bolt jutted out.

  The pale brutox growled in pain. Its grip loosened enough for Andy to pull his head free. He fell to the ground, somehow standing, and within the brutox’s guard. He tightened his fist against his foe’s chest.

  The blade exploded through its armored flesh. It collapsed into a pile of powder, its massive sword clattering to the ground.

  Andy saw through the crowd of warriors. Ziesqe stood a dozen feet away.

  I have to kill him. It’s my only chance.

  “Tell me! How can I trust you?” Andy yelled.

  “Trust? Demanding trust is proof of your worth.”

  Andy spotted an opening in the mob and rushed towards Ziesqe.

  A tiger-striped Brutox responded with lightning speed. It lunged to stop Andy, who impaled it and ducked beneath the blow of another. Ziesqe was within reach.

  Mid-stride, Andy raised his blade to strike. The pain in his wounded shoulder jolted, tearing through his limbs. He almost stumbled.

  Ziesqe had grasped the Counter-Argument and, with his blade, tapped Andy’s unhoned blade away.

  The crackling explosion pushed him backwards. Andy felt the immediate absence of the Argument. Sudden pain and fatigue overwhelmed him. He had felt it all along, but the Argument had held it at bay. Now, he was helpless. The slice in his shoulder seared through his mind. The wound burned and everything lost focus.

  “No! I won’t defeat you like this!” Ziesqe snapped. “Pick up your weapon!”

  Andy bit down and groaned through the pain as he crawled to the Argument. He grasped it and felt the pain subside.

  “Don’t just clamp down on the Argument. Articulate your grip and focus on the blade. Watch my hand.” Ziesqe released his grasp, and then bent his fingers carefully around the purple orb. He twisted his wrist as he tightened it and his blade appeared.

  Andy waited for Ziesqe to present an unhoned blade, but the chance never came.

  “If you fight with an unhoned blade, you will find it shooting out of your hand the first time you come upon the Counter.”

  It’s already happened twice now.

  “Do it,” Ziesqe ordered.

  Andy focused and tried to imitate the motion. The blade appeared, more solidly than it had before, but still not like Ziesqe’s.

  If I had only practiced.

  Andy twisted his wrist and focused. The fluttering blade sharpened.

  “Not perfect, but enough,” Ziesqe said, approaching with his own blade. “You have a quick mind.”

  Ziesqe feinted and swiped at Andy, who parried then lunged. His blade bounced off Ziesqe’s armor. Ziesqe used the opening to strike Andy across the face with his free hand.

  Andy crumpled to his hands and knees before suffering another strike, this one to his brow. He heaved and fell to his hands and knees, the blade flickering out. One swift kick to the chin knocked him backward, and he felt the Argument fly from his grasp.

  Ziesqe clicked.

  In an instant, the mob of brutox rushed forward and piled onto him. Though a dozen hard plated hands held each of his limbs still, he knew that even one hand could have held him down. A brutox retrieved Andy’s laurel, which must have fallen away in the struggle. Ziesqe accepted the laurel and inspected it.

  Andy bent against the clutching hands for a sight of his friends. He heard their voices. “Go!” He yelled, hoping they could still hear him.

  The mass of grasping limbs carried him away, but through it, he saw Letty wielding the blade, his blade, and trying to cut a way through to him.

  “You have to go! Letty, just leave!” his voice was hoarse and feeble.

  Ziesqe snapped his claws and the brutox held him aloft for his friends to see. He heard another clipped command and suddenly the claws wrenched and dug into his flesh, forcing him to cry out in agony.

  He kept his eyes open for long enough to see Quill and Staza pull Letty, struggling and screaming, through the portal.

  She was gone, safe on the other side.

  It wasn’t the end he’d hoped for, but as Letty slipped beyond his sight, something within Andy gave way. His heart fluttered, and he gasped. The sound, a soft declaration, gave the brutox pause. Several turned their glances to Ziesqe, wose red eyes narrowed in a moment of hesitation.

  Blood dripped from Andy’s torn flesh and fell on the dry earth, like warm rain twisting down his arms and hands. The heavy breath of the creatures might have been the rumble of engines on the street, on his way to the bus during a breathy, misty morning. His head rolled back, and he saw the riotous vinlight. There, in the swirls, dancing colors and shapes coalesced to bear wonders. As his eyes dimmed, pain lost its hold, and there shone sparkling, blue eyes. Hair, cresting like waves, black as the night sky, glittered with diamonds. Soft lips and cheeks, the color of rose and ancient marble smiled, and he knew she smiled for him.

  To the reader:

  Thank you for sticking with Andy on his hazardous journey through the Netherscape. He may be in dire straits, but Letty, the Caspians, and the mice won’t abandon him to Ziesqe. I hope you’ll return for the next installment, and join Letty as she begins her quest: to rescue the boy who rescued her. He may be Ziesqe’s prisoner, but Andy might be more trouble than he’s worth.

  If you were moved by Andy’s adventure and want to share the experience with your peers, I invite you to leave a written review and tell your friends. There are countless likely readers ready for adventure; please help them on their way.

  I would like to recognize my editors and those who read the first drafts. Some insisted that I leave the mice in, others wanted more goblins, and a few tore out whole pages in their hunt for rogue misspellings and comma splices. It’s been a few years in arriving, but the work is far stronger than it would have been without their efforts. In no particular order, thanks go to: Noa Zilberman, Oliver Pinchot, Jon Addley, Thomas and Rie Kreuzberger, Owen Croak, Jon Lin, Oxana Antonova, Chereese Graves, and especially Alexey Rudikov, for his exceeding talent and endless patience—his handiwork graces this book’s cover.