Chapter 7: Tree, Cave, Spy
The sun was high in the sky when Michael woke. The trees blocked the sunlight in spots, causing pools of light to pour down between the leaves.
Hours passed, and Michael did not move. He was still troubled by the events of the previous day.
A small spider ran up his arm and he squished it. Then he realized that he was sitting in the middle of a large earth-spider web. Michael always hated spiders, and earth-spiders were among the worst. Fully grown, they were the size of a grown man’s face, not counting the legs. Also, there was only one gender.
He remembered reading about it in the palace library. A single bite would cause the skin to slowly turn gray and crack as the muscles locked. By the time the victim died, it would appear to be made of stone, and would remain as such indefinitely. The bite of a full grown earth-spider contains eggs, which hatch and grow inside the carcass until they are ready to hunt their own prey. The mandibles each have two tubes—one for poison, and the other to carry the eggs from the organs where they are produced to the bite wound…
Michael looked around for the spider and saw it curled into a tight ball, asleep. He had hoped it was small, but he knew better. This one was fully grown; its brown and gray exoskeleton would be as hard as slate. The only weak point would be its mouth, which would only be accessible when it was about to bite.
Michael would not be able to move without waking the creature, but he did not want to wait for it to wake up on its own.
He suddenly got an idea. He would have to think very quickly for it to work. Michael thought his plan over carefully, and then willed it.
The webs around the resting spider snapped up suddenly around the creature and closed, holding it in a squirming ball. It could not get its legs free to cut the webs, since they were curled under its huge body.
While it was still trapped, Michael broke away from the thick webbing, cutting some with his hunting knife. He got as far away as quickly as he could.
Before noon, his hunger was almost unbearable. He needed nourishment, but where could he find it in a place like this? A sound in the tree caught his attention. He looked up to see a large squirrel hopping around from branch to branch.
He drew his bow and fired and arrow. The projectile flew through the air at amazing speed and plunged into the animal. The squirrel tumbled down to the forest floor. Now all he needed to do was cook it.
Michael moved deeper into the forest so his fire would not be spotted from the city. The forest was huge, and the further in he went, the larger the animals got.
He found a clearing and started to gather wood. When he piled the sticks neatly and prepared the squirrel to cook he sat down and thought. He needed something to spark a flame with. He pointed his index finger at the pile and concentrated on the thought of fire.
Michael felt stupid for trying, and was about to give up when the tip of his finger began to glow red until a thread of orange light shot out. The logs began to smoke, but they didn’t light. A sharp pain struck his heart and his body went stiff. He clutched his chest and uttered a silent scream. More than a minute passed before he was able to move again.
Then he grabbed a stick and sat on a stump to think. Everything he had done so far was either instinct, or… I used what was already in existence…
Michael held the stick then thought of all the warmth of the air pooling to the other end of the stick. He felt cool as the heat left the air near his body; soon after, the stick popped and flared into a flame. Michael felt tired, but it soon passed.
He tied the squirrel to a stick and roasted it. After the squirrel was cooked he stamped out the fire. Michael quietly ate while sitting on the hard stump.
After his short meal he sat at the base of a tree to rest. As he leaned his head back against the tree, he heard a hollow metal clank. He turned around and tapped the tree with his knuckle.
This tree is metal!
Michael held his breath, admiring the oddity. He ran his fingers up the rough metal bark. Suddenly the pattern changed. It looked normal, but he could feel the form of an arrow shape.
Michael turned his head in the direction that the arrow head faced. All he could see was a large boulder covered in vines and moss. He felt drawn to the mountainous stone. Following his curiosity, he walked over to the rock and started pulling off the vines.
Soon there was a visible hole between the vines. He kept pulling the plants out of the way, and within moments the hole was large enough for him to reach his arm and head in.
When he finally removed the last vines, he saw a gaping cave mouth. The stalactites and stalagmites stuck out like teeth on a bear. The path was steep and slippery, and small subterranean creatures scuttled about in the dark.
Michael hesitated, but the temptation for an adventure overpowered him, and he faded into the mouth of the cave.
Inside were various types of quartz, and there were even sections of the wall with diamonds embedded in them, indicating that this was once a fire hill. Soon the cave was at a vertical drop and he had to adjust his sword and carefully climb down in order to keep from falling several feet, breaking a leg or worse.
He grabbed a loose spot, and a rock fell, echoing as it hit the walls on the way down. He swallowed nervously.
When he reached the bottom, he found himself in a familiar cavern. All the roots, stalactites and stalagmites were reflected in a green glow. In the center of the room there were four green torches and an empty bed. Michael realized that this was the cave of Jallana.
Sounds were coming from the hole behind him. “Wow!” a strange voice echoed down the hole.
The prince walked over to the hole where the voice came from. Just as he peered up the hole, two feet smashed into his face. Michael’s lip split and blood dripped down his chin.
Assuming it was a guard, Michael jumped to his feet, sword drawn.
“No! Please don’t kill me! I didn’t mean to kick you, honest!” the boy said.
“I demand to know who you are, where you came from, and why you have followed me; if you refuse to tell the truth, I will be forced to execute you on the spot!” Michael said. I just sounded exactly like my father. Michael swallowed dryly, remembering Malumous’ words.
“My name is Ryan! I live in these woods alone, and I only came because I saw you hunt and light the wood on fire!” The boy crouched awkwardly with his head between his legs, covering his black hair almost as if debris was falling from the ceiling.
“You can stand up, I won’t hurt you,” Michael said as he sheathed his sword.
“You mean that you’re not mad that I was spying on you?” Ryan rose to his feet, staring down at Michael at full height.
Ryan stood over six feet tall and appeared to weigh just over one hundred pounds. He had dark brown eyes and was incredibly thin. Michael assumed he was flexible as well, given the tight ball he was previously curled in. His jaw was narrower than Michael’s and his chin was rounder; spots of acne dotted his oval face. His strangest feature, though, was the huge scar centered on the back of his head.
“No, I’m not angry, but next time mind your own business!”
“You mean, you’re just going to walk away and forget that we ever met!?”
“That would be ideal,” Michael said and walked toward the wall, intending to climb up.
There was suddenly a low rumble, and huge boulders rained down into the tunnel they had climbed down.
Michael’s heart collapsed as if it were under the wreckage. They were trapped.
Sea of the Dead Page 7