Temblod reached for Digger, but unhurriedly, as if the Daitengu wasn’t ready to put all its effort into an attack. Like predator and prey, they circled the stage, the giant waiting for the right instant to strike and send Digger hurtling through the air.
Digger finally worked up the courage to say it, and did say it, at first in a whisper. “The tree spirits are not by your side.”
The Daitengu didn’t react at all to the words. Nothing, Digger worried. Or did Temblod not hear me?
He tried again, but louder. “The tree spirits are Not by your side.” This time the words felt strong and meaningful as they left his mouth. This time, Temblod heard them.
The beast at once slowed its lumbering gait. It lowered an ear, as if to catch those words again. It also appeared puzzled—a human boy had just spoken Tenguish. Or had the words upset Temblod, as Digger was hoping they would?
Digger cried out so that everyone could hear. “The tree spirits are NOT by your side!” Gasps filled the air, and the Daitengu paused again, its face scrunched up with bewilderment and outrage.
Digger watched as Temblod’s rage built up. The beast looked like it was going to explode. Digger stopped circling, too, and faced the giant. Fearlessly he shouted again, “The tree spirits are NOT by your side!”
He was taking a gamble, he knew. But he was certain the monster’s belch could only have meant one of two things: either Temblod did not believe in tree spirits, or he loathed those spirits tremendously. Why else would the beast belch so boldly and then grin so spitefully?
Maybe Temblod hated those spirits for its misery. Or maybe those spirits despised this beast for its evil ways? Whatever the reason, Digger’s words were having a powerful effect on the Daitengu.
Temblod lunged for Digger. And Digger zipped past Temblod’s leg, and yelled again, “The tree spirits are NOT by your side.”
The stage was bobbing, and the beast had gone from calm to crazed.
“The tree spirits are NOT by your side.”
Digger dived to the middle to avoid a fist. Then he rolled to the rim so he wouldn’t get stomped. He called out the words again. And the Tengus cheered as Temblod leapt at Digger from across the stage, coming dangerously close to the sword.
Digger scooted past Temblod as the giant made another attempt to wallop him. The stage was now slanted, and through all the cheers and screams, he heard the branch beneath the disc cracking.
From all the shaking, the sword had also tilted. Its tip now pointed at King Sōjōbō, who was leaning forward in his chair for a slightly closer view, of not just the stage but also the groaning tree underneath.
“The TREE SPIRITS are NOT by your side!” Digger hollered, and Temblod slammed its fists at the teetering floor. This made the stage lurch sideways, bouncing with such force that Digger was tossed into the air.
He fell back onto the now steeply slanted floor and tumbled downward, coming within an inch of the sword. He couldn’t stop himself, and the Tengus screeched hysterically, sensing that the bout was at its end. But Digger didn’t fall to the forest floor. He gripped the disc’s rim with both hands as he went over. The King, however, must have thought Digger was gone, and he lifted his cane, about to announce the match was over.
But Temblod could smell Digger down there, dangling from the rim. A sinister grin formed over the Daitengu’s crooked dagger-sharp teeth.
Digger thought about his father, and about how worried his mother must have felt. As his legs dangled helplessly, he saw the long drop below. He looked up and saw the horrified faces of Pam and Yukiko. Then, as loud as he could, he shouted one last time. “THE TREE SPIRITS ARE NOT BY YOUR SIDE!”
What came next was totally unexpected. Temblod again pounded the floor, and, like a seesaw, the side Digger held onto rose with a sudden jolt, yanking him into the air.
He landed hard on the stage, and pain shot through his ribs. The disc pitched and wobbled so much so that it was impossible for him or the giant to get up. He lay flat against the floor, listening to the branch below groaning, creaking, and cracking.
Digger’s side of the stage tilted higher. I’m going to slide off, he thought. Temblod, on the other, lower side, was struggling to get up onto its knees. The stage then tilted even more. And the sword fell to the floor with a smack. The yellow cushion somersaulted down and over the rim. Sliding, feet first, Temblod searched around frantically for a branch to leap at. None were near. And Digger, still lying as flat as he could, watched as the sword slipped downward.
Temblod’s morbid grin had vanished. The Daitengu tried squirming upward but was much too heavy. Digger thought they were both done for—the stage felt ready to collapse or come apart. The giant flailed its limbs, aimlessly reaching out to grip anything to stop itself from falling. But Temblod did go over, and all Digger could see of the beast was its hairy-knuckled fingers clutching the splintering rim.
The stage tipped until it was almost vertical. As the beast raised its head over the rim with an expression of rage, the sword thrust downward. The blade swiftly sliced off the tip of Temblod’s nose. The fingers let go. The stage was still, and the village deathly quiet.
Chapter 30—One, Two, Three
The lake’s stench stung the back of Corliss’s throat and made his eyes burn. Sitting on the beach, he took out the mirror and saw the blood-red veins in his eyes. I’d toss this treasure into the lake for a sip of clean water. Water, water, water—for as far as his bloodshot eyes could see—and not a drop of it drinkable.
It was hard to tell if the sky was clear or overcast through the drifting smog. Corliss heard thunder. Or was it something else? He heard it again. This time the rumble was more intense, and ended with a crack. Weird—like everything in this place. Then, when the beach itself trembled, he was sure a tree had fallen. In a heartbeat he stood and looked back at the forest.
In the woods he could see better. Though he didn’t find any fallen trees, he heard what sounded like shouts, and pounding, way up in the sky. There was another rumble, and he watched as dozens of leaves spiraled or zigzagged down between colossal trees.
He couldn’t make out what was up there; there were too many branches and too much smog. I can’t be imagining those sounds, he thought, unless the air is poisoned too, and messing with my ears. Inari-san did say they were up in the trees. But how high up could they possibly be?
What happened next came out of the blue—or the green, as it were. There was a tremendous creak, and a crack, and Corliss saw a giant plummeting through snapping branches, with a sword in pursuit.
He immediately got out of the way to avoid being crushed or sliced.
Then came a heavy thud, and he stared in shock at the bleeding Daitengu which had slammed into the ground—a bit of its nose now lying by Corliss’s foot.
Temblod sniveled, lifted itself off the forest floor, and held onto what was left of its nose. The sword was sticking straight out of the earth. For a moment the Daitengu glanced at it fearfully, and then, as quickly as it could, the beast limped off into the shadows of the woods.
Corliss had hidden himself behind the leaves of a freshly fallen branch. When he caught the sounds of something else coming down from the treetops, he dropped completely out of view.
From beneath the leaves, Corliss could see a square platform of some sort being lowered. It was almost directly above him, and coming down steadily. He couldn’t tell if anyone was on it. Maybe they’re coming for the ugly giant that just ran off, or the sword.
The platform was gently set down on the ground, and Corliss heard what sounded like mumbo-jumbo coming from Digger’s mouth. Only a few sentences—if that’s what they were—had been spoken, so Corliss stuck his head out to check if the speaker was actually his cousin.
Digger and Yukiko were in the middle of the platform. Corliss also saw two giants—Kenja and Kenza—holding ropes and standing beside the lift. Digger said something which Corliss couldn’t understand, and one of the giants nodded a response. “We’re free t
o go now, Yukiko,” Digger said, and together they stepped off the platform. Then, with every muscle in his body, Digger pulled the sword out of the earth.
Yukiko noticed Corliss hiding under the fallen branch, and put a finger up to her lips to warn him not to speak. After all, if the Tengus saw him, they might take him back up with them.
Where’s my sister? Corliss wondered. He didn’t see any other platforms dropping out of the sky. Could she still be up there?
He watched as both Tengus, after a couple of rope tugs, were lifted into the air. Amid the grinding screeches of the pulleys, the voices of the Tengus faded the further up they went.
When the Tengus disappeared into the foliage, Corliss got up and brushed the leaves from his shirt and pants. Yukiko was already stomping over to him in a huff. “Where were you?” Twice she jabbed his shoulder with a finger.
“Me? Where was I? Where were you two? More importantly, where’s my sister?”
“Corliss, keep your voice down,” Digger warned. “There’s a whole village up there.”
Corliss again stared up through the smog, shaking his head. “Where is she, Dig?”
“Pam’s going to be all right, but there’s something we have to do first—so we can get her back. Here, the Tengus gave us this waterskin. There’s not much, but it’s clean.”
Corliss took a swig of water and poured a little into his burning eyes. Digger wiped the sword against a mossy rock to clean off the dirt and blood.
“Was that you talking?” Corliss asked. “How’d you know what to say?”
“I don’t know how I can do it—the words just come out.”
“Could your dad do that too?”
“I don’t know. He never told me, and I never heard him speak more than a few words in other languages.”
“What did the Tengus tell you?” asked Yukiko.
“They said they’ll free Pam and Slithis as soon as we make things right in the forest.”
“Make things right?” Corliss looked to Digger and Yukiko for answers. “Who’s Slithis?”
Digger had started walking. “C’mon, Corliss, I’ll explain on the way.”
Following the shoreline of Lake Usori, Digger told Corliss and Yukiko about the Kappa, and what Slithis had said about Amaterasu and the Three Sacred Treasures. He also told them the Tengu King had set up the contest to leave his fate up to their tree spirits.
“They figured you’d lose, didn’t they?” Corliss peered out at the vapor over the lake.
“You would’ve been surprised,” Yukiko said. “Your cousin is quite brave.”
Corliss squinted at Digger and grinned. “Who are you?”
Digger took the question seriously. “I really don’t know.”
“And Pam, what did you tell her?”
“I promised her we’d be back soon,” Yukiko said.
“And how about those giants?” Corliss asked. “What did you promise them?”
“That we’d bring the Sun Goddess her treasures—or at least the two we have—the sword . . .” Digger lifted the weapon. “. . . and the jewel Yukiko has in her pocket. Slithis believes that if Amaterasu gets them back, everything in the woods will return to normal.”
“And what if it doesn’t?” Corliss looked back in the direction they’d come. He felt as though he was abandoning his sister. They all stopped.
“Corliss, if you want to go back, I get it. I don’t even know for sure if the Kappa was right about these treasures. But since we might be here because of me, I’ve got to try to fix things.”
Corliss looked at Digger, then at Yukiko. Next he reached into his bag and lifted out the mirror. At first Digger and Yukiko couldn’t believe it.
“Did you really beat that giant up in the trees?” Corliss was having trouble imagining it. He slipped the mirror back under his belt.
“Corliss, are you in?” Digger asked.
“Yeah, I’m in. You speak their languages. You read invisible words about them. So it’s not difficult to believe there’s a god around here someplace.”
“Good.” Yukiko passed straight between them. “We’d better get going, then.”
“Right,” Digger agreed, “and let’s keep an eye out for Grudgings.”
“Nah, they won’t be bothering us,” Corliss said. “I saw them heading the other way. They’re leaving—with the fox-man.”
“Fox-man?” Now it was Digger who looked perplexed.
“I found Inari-san, or he found me. Your Kappa friend feels the same way as Inari-san—about Ama-whatever-her-name-is. But the Grudgings got him, it, whatever Inari-san is.”
Digger was still confused. “Fox-man?” he asked again.
“C’mon, Dig. Let’s catch up with Yukiko, and I’ll tell you about our fox friend.”
Digger nodded, and they both walked a few steps before Corliss stopped again.
“Wait, Digger. Do you know where we’re going?”
“Not exactly, but I have a pretty good idea.”
“Oh, yeah? And where’s that?”
Digger gazed up at the peak of Mount Osore. “That’s where. The very top.”
Chapter 31—Solitude of Fear
Greys, yellows, crevices, and sulfur vents . . . Steamy, sticky heat, and stones on gravelly slopes, scurrying away from each footstep . . . Craggy volcanic rocks, like burnt statues, of every form and size, strewn across the mountainside . . . Mount Osore—the mountain of fear—could not have been given any other name.
Nothing ever plays there, although it is customary for visitors to leave dolls behind. Almost everywhere you look, a dirty doll is looking back at you. With their round, staring eyes and smudged, reaching arms, these dolls are as abandoned and as hopeless as the spirits that wander the mountain.
Osore offers no comfort. It doesn’t welcome life. Not a monkey, snake, moth, or ant would venture there. And not only does the mountain appear dreadful. Fear is also in the air around it. It tastes like an old coin, and coats the nostrils with its ash-like odor. It seeps into the lungs, the blood, the thoughts—fear that moves unseen, but creeps inward, and fills the belly with the sensation of wriggling worms.
The beach was now far below. Digger had tied the sword to his belt, and its tip, dragging behind him, made a curving line in the ground.
Corliss tried to spit but his mouth was dry again. And Yukiko’s march up the mountain had slowed. Halfway up, they rested on hot stones by a boulder, which provided no shade. They looked down at the lake and the milky white spires rising from it. The forest appeared endless, spreading out in all directions and over distant mountains. If their fathers were lost out there, it could take forever to find them.
“The world is sick,” Digger said as he gazed out at the pale colors.
“Sick?” asked Corliss.
“Sick—the trees, the lake, even the air—see? It’s summertime, but everything is dying.”
“Or dead already,” Yukiko said glumly, tying up her hair in a scarlet bandana.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be here.” Corliss’s voice sounded shaky. “Maybe we’re next to . . . die.”
Digger had never heard his cousin so scared.
“You’re feeling the mountain’s power over you,” Yukiko explained. “My father told me old stories about this place. Lots of ghosts, he said. And people in the villages say fear floats on the breeze. It gets inside you.”
Digger shuddered, then reluctantly said, “We have to . . . keep . . . going.”
A tattered doll with frayed orange hair was blankly staring up at him. Corliss and Yukiko had seen it too.
“Why would a god want to be on this ugly pile of rocks anyway?” Corliss wondered out loud, and thrust his heel into the stones by his feet. “The STINK. Don’t gods have noses?”
“Gods smell what and when they want to, I suppose,” Yukiko said as she finished up with her hair.
“Are you serious?” asked Digger. If Yukiko knew more about gods, now was the time to share that information.
“Yes, but .
. . I never believed that gods could be seen.”
“Finally,” Corliss said. “Something you don’t believe in.”
“I’m open-minded. Unlike some people.”
Digger couldn’t see the peak from where he was sitting. “Think about it—what better place to keep people away? All these stones and rocks in the sun. And the smell.”
“You’re absolutely right.” Yukiko was nodding at him. “And with all the fear floating around—it’s the perfect god spot. You know, for hiding out. Or getting god-work done, without anyone interrupting.”
“God spot?” Corliss chuckled. “So you two are now experts on gods too, eh?”
“Well, I’ve never come across one myself,” Yukiko said with a straight face. “As far as I know, my dad hasn’t either.”
“My dad never mentioned gods,” Digger added.
“So we might be out of our league here, then,” Yukiko pointed out.
“League?” Corliss scoffed. “And what league is that?”
“Oh, you know what I mean, Corliss. Seeking out gods isn’t what cryptozoologists do. And Digger can somehow talk to Kappas and Tengus. But gods? I don’t think so.”
They probably know everything already—wouldn’t they? Digger asked himself.
“Okay, stop. That’s enough. My sister’s jailed in a tree with a lizard and Pinocchio-nosed goblins. You both better hope we can talk to whatever’s up there.”
Digger got up and leaned against the boulder. “We have Amaterasu’s treasures. We’re taking them back to her.” He turned to Corliss and Yukiko. “But I have a feeling—just a feeling—that my dad has something to do with her losing them.”
Corliss and Yukiko tried to make sense of what Digger had said.
“The man with the dog,” Digger said, “he had all three treasures. He can read blank pages too. And speak to those creatures. When I was little, my dad sometimes used words . . . Bezelthwip and grydelnatt. Pashwossol and vootquo. My mom thought he made them up. I understood them, though. And Slithis told me I talk like him—that stranger who took the mirror to the Kappas.”
Digger Doyle's Real Book of Monsters Page 19