by Trevor Pryce
When Darel first saw that, his nostrils had slitted in satisfaction. The tales were true. Those tough scorpion carapaces had one major vulnerability.
Plus, he’d seen proof of what Old Jir had told him. Scorps always obeyed the strongest scorpion. If a squad leader lost a fight, the squad members milled around in confusion for a while, then wandered away. They didn’t know how to think for themselves.
And they simply weren’t curious. Darel had spent four days in the camp without raising suspicions. Scorpions just didn’t have the imagination to wonder about him.
The morning of the fifth day, though, something changed.
Darel jumped through the sprawling encampment toward Gee’s cage. He hopped into the clearing, then paused at the table where sleepy scorpions crunched on crickets every morning.
Except this morning they stood in an alert line, and a new scorpion squad had claimed the table.
The new scorpions weren’t bigger than the others, but something about them made Darel nervous.
They wore wide red bands around their tails and moved with a quiet, predatory confidence. And when he jumped into the clearing, all six of them shifted toward him, their legs scuttling.
“You,” one of them rasped. “Frog.”
“Yeah?” he said, using his best mercenary voice.
“Come closer …”
He hopped toward them, his throat puffing nervously. “You want something?”
The scorpion narrowed her main eyes. “We want to know why your webbed feet are befouling Lord Marmoo’s encampment.”
“I’m with Captain Killara’s mercenary company.”
“You’re no lizard.” The red-banded scorpion’s mouthparts ground together. “You smell like the other frog.”
“What other frog?”
The scorpion gave a rough laugh. “The one in the cage. You smell like him. Not of desert. Of eucalyptus trees and moist places.”
“You want to know why?” Darel asked, hoping they couldn’t hear the terrified beating of his heart. “Because I’m not a scorpion. I bathe.”
The red-banded scorpion twitched, and her stinger sliced through the air and stopped inches from Darel’s face. Quivering and dripping with poison. “Watch your tongue,” she said. “Or I’ll cut your throat.”
Darel gulped, and his inner eyelids blinked rapidly. These red-banded scorpions were even deadlier than Nogo, who’d knocked him out without trying.
“Perhaps we should kill you anyway,” the scorpion continued. “And give the spider queen two gifts.”
“W-w-what do you mean?”
“The other frog.” The scorpion’s side eyes glanced toward Gee’s cage. “He’s a present for Queen Jarrah. She’s getting the first taste of Amphibilands frog.”
“But not the last!” another scorpion said.
“She’s coming to wrap that fat frog in her silk,” the first red-banded scorpion continued. “She’ll suck his blood for a midnight snack, then tear down the Veil, and we’ll march.”
“Oh,” Darel said, weakly. “Good.”
“Looking forward to the battle, are you?”
“Yeah. Tear down the Veil and”—he felt a little dizzy—“and invade. When, um … when’s she coming?”
“Why? You want to watch her eat frog flesh?” The scorpion laughed. “She’ll get here tonight. She’ll have her snack, and tomorrow the Amphibilands will fall.”
“In that case, I should … um, polish my shield.”
“You do that, little pollywog. And take care. Because tomorrow night, you’ll be among the last of your kind.”
As the scorpions chuckled, Darel hopped across the clearing, a little unsteadily.
The lizard guarding the cages saw him and muttered, “Don’t mess with those scorps. They’re elite troopers. Tougher than crocodile hide.”
“Yeah,” Darel said. “I noticed.”
He started back toward the barracks, lost in thought. The spider queen was coming, to eat Gee tonight and destroy the Veil tomorrow. He needed to do something—but what?
At the mercenary camp again, Darel leaned against the railing that surrounded the sparring pit, a twenty-foot-deep hole in the sandy ground. Bits of dented armor were stacked against the railing beside him, and he absently fingered a heavy copper shield.
A few of the other mercenaries shouted insults at him, but he ignored them. He didn’t need to practice fighting. He needed to think of a plan.
ROG!” CAPTAIN KILLARA BELLOWED from inside his tent. “Get your skinny green butt in here!”
Darel narrowed his nostrils wearily and pushed into the captain’s tent. He found the one-eyed lizard sitting at a desk poring over maps, with huge Nogo standing beside him.
“Yes, sir?” he asked.
“We’re marching tomorrow, frog. Lord Marmoo’s putting our company in front.”
“Shock troops,” Nogo muttered, scratching his scaly neck with one claw.
“What does that mean?” Darel asked.
“Means we go in first and get hit hardest,” Killara told him. “That’s why they pay us.”
“Oh.”
“Of course, the scorps only paid us to breach the hills.” The captain’s tongue flicked in disgust. “Only paid us to start the fight, not finish it.”
Nogo hissed. “Cheap eight-legs.”
“Yeah, they’ll expect us to burn the forests and villages, even though they haven’t paid for anything past the first battle.” Killara rubbed his eye. “They always want more than they pay for.”
“So we’re the shock troops?” Darel said.
“Not you.” Captain Killara fixed Darel with a slitted gaze. “You’ll go in first and scout the area.”
“Yes, sir.”
The captain turned to the big rock lizard. “Time to get to the prison cages, Nogo. You’re on guard duty.”
“Again?” Nogo grumbled. “I ought to have the day off if I’m leading the fight tomorrow.”
Killara snorted. “The only way you get a break is if someone whips you in the sparring pit. Then he can guard the cells while you’re healing.”
“Guess I’m stuck guarding, then.” Nogo’s scaly mouth lifted in a grin. “Ain’t a lizard in this company who can lay a paw on me.”
The captain dismissed them, and Darel followed Nogo from the tent, his mind a whirl of possibility. All of a sudden, he knew what he needed to do. He needed to beat Nogo and take over his guard duty. But five days ago, the rock lizard had knocked him out without even trying.
How could he possibly win a rematch?
Only one way to find out.
So he said, “You’re right that no lizard in the company can whip you.”
Nogo grunted and started lumbering away.
“But I,” Darel continued, his eyes bulging slightly, “can beat you like an egg.”
A hush fell over the area.
The big lizard turned and glared down at Darel. “You, little frog?”
“That’s right,” Darel said, swallowing his uncertainty. “You’re strong, but you’re slow.”
Nogo glowered. “Fast enough to crush you.”
“And you smell like a swamp rat. I’ll pluck your scales and use ’em for fly traps. And look at your stubby little bunny-rabbit tail. Can’t you grow it back—”
Nogo didn’t even wait to enter the sparring pit. He just bellowed and charged, his fangs bared and the razor points of his claws glinting.
Darel sprang upward, his feet inches above the slicing claws. He slapped one palm on the big lizard’s head and cartwheeled in the air, landing on his feet behind Nogo.
He punched Nogo’s back as hard as he could, but the lizard’s scales deflected his blow.
Nogo’s tail slammed the ground with a thunderous thud, and he pivoted, his huge claw flashing toward Darel.
Darel sidestepped, then hopped backward. “See? You’re slow as a lazy snail.”
Despite his mockery, he knew he couldn’t last long against Nogo. The lizard barely noticed hi
s punches, and any one of Nogo’s swipes would knock him into next week.
So he faked a yawn, trying to make Nogo angry and reckless, and crouched again, ready to spring.
Nogo stampeded closer, bellowing—then swung, surprisingly fast for a lizard his size.
Darel moved faster. Instead of leaping over Nogo, he sprang to the side, just ahead of the sharp claws. His toe pads helped him stick to the outside railing of the sparring pit, and the big lizard spun in a half circle, dragged by the weight of his swing.
“Ha!” Darel crowed. “Are we dancing or fighting?”
Nogo roared. “I’m gonna tear you in two!”
“Gotta catch me first,” Darel said, with a bold grin.
The grin died when he tried to step away from the railing and discovered that his foot was lodged between two slats.
He tugged, but he couldn’t move his leg.
He was stuck.
Nogo’s tongue flicked triumphantly. “I’ll snap that off for you, greenie.”
“You couldn’t snap a daisy without—”
Nogo charged. His feet slammed the ground, and his tail dug a furrow behind him.
He gave a mighty swipe, aiming at the center of Darel’s head.
Nogo’s claw was slashing toward him, and Darel didn’t have time to jump away. Instead, he fell backward into the sparring pit, dropping halfway down before the slats snaring his ankle caught him.
He dangled upside down, his pulse racing, clamping his mouth shut so he couldn’t croak “I surrender!”
And Nogo—unable to stop his furious blow—smashed through the railing and crashed to the bottom of the fighting pit.
With the railing broken, Darel managed to free himself and hop to the ground, bruised and breathless.
Nogo was in worse shape, moaning in a heap in the pit—but still conscious. Still able to report to guard duty.
So Darel grabbed the heavy copper shield and leaped into the air, as high as he could. For a moment, he found himself above the scorpion encampment. He saw the tents spreading in every direction, and then he swung the shield below him and fell, fast and straight as an arrow.
He landed shield-first on the back of Nogo’s head.
The clang echoed in the fighting pit, like a heavy club hitting a gong. The impact jarred Darel so hard, he flopped to his side, the wind knocked out of him.
But at last, Nogo stopped moving.
Darel struggled to his feet. He puffed his throat a few times, then climbed from the sparring pit.
The lizard mercenaries eyed him warily, and the three-toed skink muttered, “Beginner’s luck.”
Instead of replying, Darel flopped to the ground to catch his breath.
A minute later, Captain Killara emerged from his tent. “Where’s that little croaker?” He stomped over to Darel. “You beat Nogo?”
“He’s clumsy.” Darel showed the captain a cheeky grin. “He beat himself.”
“Well, congratulations. You just assigned yourself guard duty.”
“What? No—I’m not on duty. I’m going to take a nap.”
“That’s what you think. You whipped Nogo, so you get his job.”
Darel sighed. “Aw, captain …”
“Don’t whine, frog. Report to the cages immediately.”
“Yes, sir,” he said. He grabbed a spear and hopped slowly away, hiding his smile.
AREL STOOD SENTRY OUTSIDE the cages. After days in the scorpion camp, he hardly noticed the stench or the squads of scorpions scuttling past—though he was relieved that those red-banded scorps weren’t at the nearby table.
He sidled up to Gee’s cage. Without moving his mouth, he said, “Ssst!”
No answer from the darkness beyond the iron bars.
He tried again. “Sssst!”
A scorpion across the clearing glanced at him with her side eyes, and Darel hopped away from the cage.
He rattled the next door, pretending to check that it was locked but actually eyeing the chain. Sentries weren’t given keys, so he’d grabbed a heavy spear to help him snap the chain. Except that would make too much noise. He needed to break Gee free without the scorps noticing, and get away before the spider queen arrived for her “gift.”
Darel hopped along the row of cages for a minute, then stopped again outside Gee’s door. “Hey!” he hissed into the darkness. “Frog!”
A scratching sounded from inside, then a cough.
Gee’s cough!
Darel almost peeped for joy but managed to keep scowling. “Don’t say a word,” he snarled. “You web-toed, mud-colored, snail-eating, wattleflower-sniffing croaker. You wart-faced son-of-a-builder! You—”
“What?” Gee’s voice croaked from the darkness. “Is that you?”
“What do you think, web-toes?” Darel growled, then murmured: “They’re watching, so keep quiet.”
“Darel,” Gee whispered. “What are you doing here?”
Darel leaned against the bars. “What do you think I’m doing?” he said without moving his lips. “I’m saving you.”
“Well, stop! Run away quick, before they see you.”
“They know I’m here,” Darel muttered. “I joined the mercenaries.”
“You what? You joined the what? You’re crazy, you’re nuts. You’ve lost your marbles, you’ve gone round the bend, you’re—”
A squad of scorps skittered into the clearing, and Darel’s inner eyelids blinked. “Shhh!” he hissed. “Back in a second.”
He ambled past the other cages, acting like just another mercenary on guard duty. He scratched his forehead with a finger pad. Kicked the dirt. Puffed his throat to keep himself calm.
Then, after the squad disappeared, he returned to Gee’s cage.
“—loopier than a dizzy dragonfly!” Gee was saying. “Nuttier than squirrel soup. You joined the mercenaries?”
“That was the only way.”
Gee hopped closer to the bars, and his face looked dirty and desperate. “You’ve got to get out of here, Darel.”
“Just as soon as I break you free.”
“There’s no way. Save yourself. I—I can’t believe you snuck into a scorpion camp for me!” For a moment, a grin rose on Gee’s face. “But you’ve got to leave before they catch you.”
“If we don’t escape, the spider queen is going to eat you,” Darel said. “Tonight.”
“Eat me?” Gee grabbed the cage bars. “Then stop messing around and get me outta here! What’s the plan?”
“We’ll wait until nobody’s looking, and then I’ll snap the chain with my spear.”
“That’s your plan?”
“Um, yeah.”
“It’ll take you an hour to snap this chain.” Gee tapped his finger pads against the bars. “How about this? Slip me your dagger, and I’ll weaken the chain on this side. Then you can snap it in a second.”
“Huh,” Darel said. “You know, that actually makes sense.”
“Hey, I didn’t listen to my parents talk about construction every day of my life without learning a few things.”
Darel almost laughed. He waited until more scorpions crossed the clearing to a food cart, then slipped his dagger into the cage.
“I’d better start acting like a sentry,” he whispered. “So nobody gets suspicious.”
“I’ll start working on the chain. And, Darel?”
“Yeah?”
“You know how everyone in the village yells at you for stirring up trouble?”
Darel paused. “Yeah?”
“What they don’t realize,” Gee said, a quaver in his voice, “is that you’d do anything to help your friends. I can’t believe you hopped into the middle of the scorpion army. Thanks, Darel. Just … thanks.”
Darel blinked back tears. “Well, I couldn’t let the spider queen eat you.”
“Would you stop saying that?” Gee said with a shudder. Then he went back to working on the chain.
Darel paced in front of the cages, pausing occasionally to kick at a door to cover the
sound of Gee weakening the links. He traded insults with a one-armed monitor lizard, then watched the blacksmith’s cart trundle past.
Twenty minutes later, he bought some emu jerky from a vendor and slipped it to Gee along with his canteen.
All around him, the scorpion camp bustled with urgency. Everyone knew that Lord Marmoo was returning with the spider queen—and that she’d destroy the Veil. Tomorrow, they murmured. Tomorrow we’ll feast.
Soldiers marched double time across the clearing, officers reviewed their orders, cooks threw rats and crickets into bubbling cauldrons. And finally, for one brief moment, Darel was alone.
In a flash, he hopped to Gee’s cage and jammed his spear between the chain and the cage bars. “Get ready,” he said.
He gripped the spear tightly and heaved with his legs against the bars. For a second, nothing happened. He strained and shoved—then, with a sudden crack, the chain snapped.
Darel staggered backward, and the cell door flew open.
Gee stumbled from the darkness. He looked terrible, with a black eye and dirty skin—and he was skinny.
Well, almost skinny.
Well, skinnier.
As Darel grabbed the spear, Gee closed the cage door and looped the broken chain through the bars, to hide the signs of his escape. He handed Darel his dagger back.
“This way,” Darel said, and they hopped into a cramped passageway between two tents. “I hid some armor around the corner.”
“What am I going to do with armor?” Gee asked.
“Pretend to be a mercenary. C’mon, hurry!”
“I’m … hurrying,” Gee said, panting.
Darel glanced at Gee and saw that he was stooped over from days in the cage. “I’m sorry, Gee, I should slow down. You’re hurt.”
“I’m okay.” Gee blinked his inner eyelids. “I just … What’s your plan?”
“Walk out of the camp wearing armor and run for the Amphibilands.”
“We can’t.”
“Sure, we can!” Darel insisted. “I can bluff my way past these scorps, no problem.”
“It’s not that.” Gee put his hands on his knees and puffed his throat a few times, catching his breath. “Someone needs to warn the turtle king. I heard the scorpions talking. The spider queen’s going to tear down the Veil. We need to warn King Sergu.”