Advent of the Roar (The Land Old, Untouched Book 1)

by Benjamin M. Piety

  By duskmeal, the four bodies are jarent, laughing and talking decibels too loud. Ethan’s heart suddenly feels . . . free. At one point, he leaves for the main cabin and screams out into the night and the half-moon twinkling off the sea’s waters. He returns to the other three in silence, and they watch him for a minor. Feeling sheepish and flam, he slinks back into his seat before Sanet bursts into a laugh, followed quickly by the others. Ethan realizes he’s safe here. Without judgment. These bodies are kind and happy, to a point, and he is wanted. Like with Amil. Ethan realizes he just misses the goodness in bodies.

  With this sudden outburst of kindness, he reaches out to kiss Sanet, whose eyes widen in a smile.

  “Ethan, you’re so friendly when you’re tipst,” she says, and Ethan laughs.

  “No singles for me?” Bernard calls out.

  “Oh, Lincoln, why not.” Ethan leans in and kisses Bernard, whose scruffy beard is an odd and new sensation for him.

  Bernard reaches around and holds Ethan’s head for a major before they stop. Johan and Sanet clap and cheer. Johan then goes in for a kiss with Sanet, who stops him, finger to his lips.

  “Oh, so I’m the one who’s left cold?” Johan whines.

  Ethan speaks up. “Prosh it, bring it in.” He stands, leaning across the table hands outstretched.

  “No desires. I’ll stick to the lady in kind over here.”

  “Frigid, Sur. Make a man feel real unispar.” Ethan sits back down in a bloated huff.

  At that, Johan stands up to retrieve the meal and serves Ethan first, then Bernard, then himself. He starts to move away when Sanet rolls her eyes.

  “You’re a child, aren’t you?”

  “Apory, sur, I didn’t see you there behind that cold, frigid heart.”

  He serves her the smallest of portions. Bernard and Ethan giggle.

  “Serve me well now, Captain Johan, and perhaps you’ll get more than a kiss.” Before she finishes the sentence, Johan plops the rest of the hash onto her round, splashing it on everyone, which only brings on more laughter.

  The meal is delicious, though Sanet comments that the day’s worth of sea ale was the best ingredient. Johan doesn’t protest. Afterward, Ethan gathers the rounds and prongs to wash while Sanet mentions how full she is and starts to waddle out of the cabin. Johan follows her, reminding her of the cross she’s made. She hits him playfully as their conversation leaves the room. Bernard helps Ethan finish, and they stand foot to foot while they clean dishes.

  The kleep seems to be rocking a bit more, and suddenly, Ethan’s stomach starts to turn. “I think the sea ale’s coming back.”

  Bernard catches him as he stumbles to the floor, laying him on his back. He reaches over for a pillow off the bench and places it under Ethan’s head.

  “Perhaps you should rest for the night,” Bernard suggests.

  Ethan smiles. “Approsh, Undess.” With closed, concentrated eyes, he pats Bernard on his beard. “Oh, Undess, you need a razor.”

  ❖❖❖

  Ethan staggers out of the main cabin the next morn, and he has to shield his eyes from the bright sunshine. They adjust, and he sees a shirtless Bernard diving off the port rail and into the waters below. Still waking up, he stumbles forward in shock only to find Sanet and Johan are already swimming with a school of earniks. Sanet screams as one passes between her legs. She hoots and dips under the water as the earniks pop in and out in fits of laughing babel.

  Bernard waves. “Come in, Ethan.”

  The sea looks dangerous. “How deep is it?” Ethan asks.

  Johan looks down. “Thousand measures? Can’t you swim?”

  “I can swim.” I can, can’t I? He doesn’t remember exactly when he was last in the water—especially water that runs deep enough to swallow a mountain.

  “Then jump in. You’ll never get a time like this again.”

  He watches the three, all eyes on him. At this point, there is no way he can back down.

  “Fine. Fine.”

  Ethan steps back as the others cheer and begin calling out his curam. What flamboy am I to jump into the sea? If Undess could see me now. He removes his shirt. Shame, once again, ignored. Mercet would have already been in there. With a deep breath, he starts to run, and at the last minor, he jumps in the air but slips, knocking his knee into the side of the kleep. He tumbles toward the water, hearing the “oh!” and “ah!” from the others.

  He splashes in headfirst, disoriented, bubbles and shapes zipping past him. After a major something pulls him above water, and he takes his first breath.

  Bernard holds him up. “That was incredible to see, Sur Mershner. Just unbelievable.”

  Johan claims, “You could be a champion with that dive.”

  “The sincerest of approsh, Captain.”

  Bernard looks to him. “You wisnok, friend?”

  “Just hit my knee. I’ll be fine.”

  At this, Bernard lets go and swims a stride away.

  “I’m in the sea. Here I am. Swimming”—an earnik floats past him, rubbing its smooth skin against his—“holy shnite, what was that?”

  The earnik peeks above water and laughs. Ethan splashes at it, and it pops back underwater. He then dips his own head under and swims down. The sea is clear and aqua green. A beam of sunshine angles down into the darkest reaches of the water. Swimming in and through it are dozens of laughing earniks, whisking by in all directions. They’re laughing a muffled echo underwater. It is a sight both wholly frightening and entirely beautiful.

  Returning to the main deck, Johan adjusts course, setting the sails. “We should be reaching Trimod by dusk,” he informs them.

  Ethan takes pause at the reminder. The whole purpose of the trip—and the dangers that await them—had left him. As had the war brimming in Carvinga. Ranpart Cadwellion. The brass orb. The crimson men. He looks ahead, and in an outlying distance, he sees a darkened cloud. As the day goes along, the clouds blacken, and the waters begin to ruffle with a return of whitecaps.

  “Gents, be ready for a bit of a rough sea,” Johan informs the gang, pointing ahead. Looking forward, he notes a strange blue-and-red glow come into view. Over the side, the school of earniks has long since disappeared.

  Though the sun still has an hour before setting, it’s blocked completely by storm clouds. Lightning flashes and rain begins to pour. The kleep bobs up and down, Johan using the whole of his strength at the wheel to keep on course. Squalls of wind send waves crashing onto the main deck. And then, in random views, minuscule archipelago islands, no more than two hundred strides in length, poke out of the waters like tiny fingers, causing Johan to swerve and weave around them, timing it with the waves.

  Though Johan is a crass body, his sailing skills are on full display. He bellows out commands. “You’ll need to push off this coming rock, Stone Fingers,” he yells to Bernard.

  Bernard leans over the side, held by Sanet and Ethan, as a giant rock comes at them full speed, and with an ease coupled with a struggled grunt, he pushes off it.

  “Good show, old man.”

  Thunder booms around them through the red-and-blue glow. The kleep creaks. Above them, the mast swings and sails luff wildly in the wind and rain. The deck floors are slick with water, forcing the three to hold on to various rails and cleats.

  “There, up ahead!” Sanet yells to Johan.

  Ethan sees the enormous island, its size hidden in the mists, the murky storm, and black clouds. As lightning strikes, a giant mountain can be seen, perhaps once a volcak.

  Johan steers the kleep through a few more small island rocks before the sea clears up. Lightning and thunder boom out again, increasing with every passing minor. The wind is constant at this point. Ethan and the others are soaked from head to toe from a steady barrage of waves crashing tens of feet above them.

  And then, as if they’ve passed an invisible wall, the storm lets up. The winds ceases instantaneously, and the waves, though still white-capped, begin to calm. The mist remains in thin tufted line
s. Behind them, the storm continues, but in front, the island sits in wait.

  The odd glow, in and around the island, has no origin. It floats in the air like ribbons of mist. Johan guides the kleep to shore, setting anchor just as the beach comes into view. “Won’t be able to get any closer.”

  “Looks shallow enough here,” Sanet suggests, looking overboard.

  She jumps over the side, climbs down a rope ladder, and hops into the water, which at this point is about chest deep. Bernard exits next after tossing the single rucksack they packed for their trip into Trimod to Sanet. She holds it above her head while Bernard hops in. Ethan and Johan follow.

  “You don’t have to come with us onto the island, Johan,” Ethan states.

  “Oh, I’ll be seeing what’s so unispar about your little trip.”

  Ethan exchanges looks with Sanet, but the debate is settled. And with that, they trek through the waters and toward the mysterious island state.

  Chapter 27

  IN THE JUNGLE OF TRIMOD

  The gang decides to camp on the beach for the night to dry out and be wholly rested before the trek into Trimod. The storm circling Trimod is unusual, clear as night, then as rough and tempestuous as a tormisand. Ethan tries to rest and close his eyes, but panic sets in. What lies in wait in there?

  The next morn, they pack up camp and head inward. Ahead of them lies a thick, damp jungle, the leaves glistening in humid air. A constant airstream tickles the trees and wiggles their branches and leaves. With no visible trail, they take a path least covered by branch and trunk.

  The inside of the jungle calls out in a cacophony of hoots and hollers, both distant and straight above them. They hear the songs of exotic jarjers and the reverberating howling of keymos, furry eight-armed freks that swing and hang on branches. They use webbing from their limbs to stick to and climb the trees and occasionally to catch smaller prey. Light cuts through the jungle and countless trees and branches, still colored by the ever-present wisps of red and blue.

  “Where should we even look?” Bernard asks.

  “Because this is a smaller state, luckily it’s only about a two-day hike across. That said, I assume we start in on one of the larger villages near that mountain,” Ethan responds.

  “Are we sure that everyone here was sent left?”

  “Other bodies have explored this state, but they only found the remains of buildings and . . .” Ethan trails off.

  They continue, occasionally hacking through a bushel of leaves or a small trunk in the way. It’s then that a bright-yellow light illuminates the entire jungle all around them as if someone has shone a giant neonlight from above. They look upward to witness a long and slithering frek floating by in the canopy. Its stomach, facing the Land, bursts with bright yellow.

  Ethan falls backward in fright. “Wha . . . what is that?”

  The frek continues to worm along, its yellow light fading as it floats away. Shadows move in an upward motion before they return to the usual darkness of the jungle.

  Bernard steps forward and gives Ethan a hand as he stands up. “I’ve never seen such a thing. I don’t even know how something like that works.”

  Ethan brushes himself off. “Getting to be a habit of yours, always picking me up.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Bernard says, waving his hand. “So, friends, I think we should follow that thing.”

  “Follow it?” Ethan asks fearfully.

  “It’s bound to be near something. I can’t imagine it roams an empty jungle. What does it eat?” Bernard answers.

  “I’m not interested in learning that,” Johan states.

  They continue forth, chopping leaves and stomping through mud. Occasionally, they find themselves in a clearing and eventually come across a brightly lit circle of flowers and color. They cross it and make their way back into the jungle. After an hour’s trek, they spot a settlement. Or what’s left of one. The buildings have long since been abandoned, overgrown with creepers, most without roofs. Brute takes off toward the sight. The jungle opens here to a central road that divides the buildings. The four bodies walk along to the main square spotted with simple carved rectangular columns, which at one point might have held up a larger second floor.

  “Looks like this might have been a bargaining square?” Sanet says, walking through. Johan follows her after swiping away remnant drops of rain falling from an broken roof.

  “Over here,” Bernard shouts. They gather to the north end of the square and look to where Bernard points. “There.”

  On a small hill on the farthest stretch of the settlement is a small, plainly made stonetin with four towers.

  “That looks like the one that was in the Tunnels,” Sanet says.

  “Could be the right place.” Bernard smiles.

  With eager energy and a destination, the gang picks up their pace just before the flying yellow frek again lights their path. They look upward as the worm-like frek, massive in size, ten feet wide and hundreds of strides long, wiggles along in the air above. The shadows beneath them and across the buildings move back and forth as it glides through the air.

  “Let’s keep out of sight of that thing,” Ethan suggests.

  The others agree and move against the buildings and down some smaller alleyways. The frek floats along and turns, going back toward the square behind them. Bernard waves them forward.

  The stonetin ahead is perhaps a third of the size of Cadwellion’s and has writings carved into it in one of the old languages. As they step closer, Ethan recognizes some of the words from the studies he has done for the ranpart. Pulling out a bit of pad and stick, he translates.

  “You can read that?” Sanet asks.

  “I think so.” Ethan concentrates. He finishes and reads it to the others. “‘Trimod Stonetin, built 402338 for Mane George VI to house the safety and security of the Land.’”

  “Three thirty-eight? That’s over two hundred years. Didn’t you once say the royal family ended three hundred ago?” Sanet asks.

  “They did. That’s part of what Cadwellion had me researching. He believed that after Niance rebelled against the Lion, the family disbanded and went into hiding in various states. No one has heard from any of them. But, yes, that was in two fifty-two. Mane George was maybe fifteen at the time, so it would be unlikely that he would have lived to see this built after a hundred years.”

  “Maybe they started to build it after his sending or something?” Bernard suggests.

  “Perhaps.” Ethan looks closer at the walls. “The other stonetin, with the brass, did it have writings, like this one?”

  “I believe so, yes, but I can’t say it was the same.”

  “The Niance rebellion started after the Lion was persuaded by a ranpart who encouraged them to debit the underbodies to finance the ranpart’s various researches. Of course, the bodies of Niance did not take kindly to the idea, feeling oppressed by the Lion, so they rebelled against them and sent many of the royal family left. It’s unclear who escaped in all of it. And who survived. What that ranpart was studying was what Cadwellion wanted to figure out.”

  “Seems flam to hire a bunch of coinhires to recover what’s clearly something very valuable,” Bernard states, his vehemence for Cadwellion continuing to grow since the reading of the tap back in Yikshir.

  “True. We don’t really know his motives,” Ethan doubles again. “I think his concern is getting these fragments no matter what. If you throw enough bodies at the problem, it’s sure to be accomplished.”

  “You think this royal family back then was looking for the orb?” Bernard asks.

  “I think they already had the brass orb, and they decided after the rebellion that it would be best kept out of any underbodies’ hands. I can’t imagine they weren’t the ones who broke the orb into its seven pieces and had these stonetins built to house them.”

  “Well,” Johan speaks up, “if they’ve kept whatever this thing you’re looking for locked away across sea and state, why in Dustian are you digging it
up?”

  “I think our hand is being forced, no? It’s either Cadwellion or us,” Sanet says.

  “I’d rather us. Let’s get inside. I’m afraid our floating friend over there will be back soon.”

  Bernard steps up to the door. Johan and Sanet follow. Bernard tries the door, but it doesn’t budge.

  “Help me out here.” He motions for Johan.

  Together they push with their shoulders but manage no movement of the door. Sanet and Ethan join in, and the four of them each drive on the count of three. Nothing. They look up and around. No other doors and no windows.

  Ethan moves his hand along the door, which is covered in slick algae. There are small divots about halfway down.

  “Looks like there’s a mechanism here. Not a key per se, but something similar.”

  Sanet confirms what he’s found. “Looks like you can press something into there to turn it.”

  They each dig around the door and find the divots make six concentric circles. “Must be some sort of gear.”

  “Where are we going to find that?” Johan says, defeated.

  Ethan looks around the stonetin walls again. “There’re little reliefs carved into the walls here. Maybe they have a map or direction?”

  He examines them, pushing aside moss and uncovering illustrations of the settlement with a huge and looming frek battling another frek that’s emerging from the water brandishing dozens of tentacles. Another relief shows the orb glowing in the first frek’s eye. A third shows the settlement putting the orb pieces together. The last of the series shows a body using a big gear. The large man turning the gear is wearing what looks to be an apron.

  “Looks like a smith built this mechanism. So if we can find where his shop is, there might be something to help us there.” Ethan stands and looks back toward the settlement.

  “Last smith we visited didn’t go so well,” Bernard recalls.

  “I can’t imagine we have to worry about meeting anyone still alive on this island.”