"Within the walls of Emer Alda," the wizard explained, "you'll find da Emer Alda Velka Mislay, the Great Mind of Emer Alda. Knowing all, seeing all—but sadly, revealing little."
"So what good is it?"
"Cris, my friend, in a vision I saw you and three others standing before the Velka Mislay. My visions are never wrong. You will be there as I saw it. The question is: will it be by your choice, or by the demands of others? I feel strongly you should be there as the result of your own will."
"But why? What were we doing there?"
"You were all shivering with fear."
"Is that where I can find this Caval Mal guy?"
"Oh, no, he is not often on Nazer, when he is, he resides in his fortress, Kurat Vara. Your destination is Emer Alda. Come." Again, the old man set a remarkable pace as he bounded down the cobblestoned street toward the other side of town.
As they neared the edge of the village, Cris noticed the barn to his right, and ahead, four little people stood at the edge of a lichen-covered field. He recognized Mouse, Lava, Gabby, and the woman, Bell.
On their arrival, the wizard nudged Cris and said, "A royal send off."
"Royal?"
"The fellow you call Gabby is the mayor—you call them on Earth—of this hamlet. Look closely and you can see he is wearing his official badge of office, the gold band on his upper right arm."
"By the way," Cris asked, "what do I call you besides Thermo—Trama at gone—"
"Thau-mat-er-gon, and it's the Thaumatergon."
"That's a title. How about a name? Otherwise, I'll insist you call me Captain all the time."
The wizard laughed. "All right then—my name is Mag'Osnik."
"That sounds oddly familiar."
"I believe in Eastern Europe you can buy tires by that name."
"You seem to know an awful lot about Earth."
"My boy, to your understanding, I am ancient beyond telling. In all these years—I've gotten around some."
Cris and Mag'Osnik came up even with the mayor and his entourage. Lava greeted them with, "Cris, Cris, I hear you're headed off on a journey—"
"One that will lead you back to the stars," Mouse finished the sentence.
"Back to the stars?" Cris looked at Mag'Osnik. "What about that? I told you I wanted to go home, but I don't want anyone to die just because I showed up. Hell, there's two dead already."
"Captain Salazar, you have arrived among us just before a time of great bloodletting; this event will happen with or without you. All that is in doubt is its conclusion. Much has been foretold, but not all. I knew you were coming, and I know that my part in your adventure must remain limited."
Gabby stepped forward, indicating his desire to speak. Cris wanted to pursue the conversation with Mag'Osnik, but Gabby was insistent and impatient. Cris had to start the dialogue, so, as he had been shown, he clasped his hands together and touched his fingers to his chin. "So long, Gabby."
"What is ‘long’?" Gabby asked, obviously confused.
"Sorry, translation problem, my end this time."
"Cris," Gabby said, "I've never met a Solar before, only heard the ancient stories. You are a good man, and I believe you will help beyond telling. When the day comes that I am allowed to write my people's history, your name will live on as our liberator."
"Liberator? Me?" Cris uttered in amazement, then under his breath, he spoke to Mag'Osnik. "No pressure there."
Now, Bell walked up. She again took his hand. "Thank you, Cris, and may the lucks be good on you."
"Thanks, Bell."
"Please, take this." From a satchel she wore over her shoulder, she removed an object wrapped in a clean, white cloth. Cris opened it. It was a loaf of bread.
"Well—thank you, Bell."
"It is beteko og, forever bread. Eat only small bites, it will fill your belly and nourish your body."
"And let me give you this," said Mag'Osnik, who removed and presented Cris with his water bladder. "You may have need of it. Now, look hard—there, do you see that depression in the ground?"
"Yes."
"It is the start of a path through the forest. Follow it until dawn tomorrow and do not stray from it. Upon the rising of the sun, you'll know where to go. Be careful, you are a wanted man, never forget that. Above all, produce no illumination come the night, do you understand?"
"Stay on the trail, and no light, got it. But, aren't you coming with me?"
"No Cris, I told you my role must be limited."
"Then, what —these guys are coming?"
The four Parenmerians began to chatter among themselves animatedly. "We'll go!" said Lava.
"Gabby must stay," said Bell, "but I am pleased to accompany Cris."
"No, no my friends," Mag'Osnik said, stepping between them and Cris, "Cris must go alone."
"You said in your vision you saw me and three others standing before this great mind."
"I did, and so it shall be. But, from here, you walk alone."
"Okay, Mag. I suppose I'll see you again, right?"
"One never knows."
"That sounds funny, coming from you."
Cris extended his hand and they shook.
"Be ever mindful, and fare thee well."
Cris turned to the four Parenmerians and extended his hand toward Gabby. "Your Honor, I learned the hand-on-the-chin thing from you, this is what we do on my world, we shake hands."
Gabby raised an eyebrow then took Cris's hand.
"A firm grip like this is the way it's done."
Gabby smiled and shook Cris's hand vigorously. Cris then shook hands with Mouse and Lava.
He saved Bell for last. Getting down on one knee he said, "Goodbye, Bell."
"Goodbye, Cris." She extended her hand.
"It's customary on my world for friends of the opposite gender to hug."
"Hug?"
"Like this." He put his arms around her and gave her a gentle hug.
"I like hug," she said.
"Hugging."
She responded with a confused look. "Bell, it's called a hug, we just hugged, the practice is called hugging."
"You have a very complicated language, Cris."
Cris smiled, rose, and started walking along the depression in the ground. He turned to wave one last time before he entered the wood line. When he did, Mag'Osnik was gone. Cris waved at the others, turned, and strode into the dark, dense forest.
Chapter 7
A Noise in the Wood
Cris glanced at his watch. It was still set to lunar time, which showed late morning. Here, though, it must be late in the afternoon. He laughed to himself. What made him think this planet had a twenty-four hour cycle? He would figure that out later.
As things stood, he had just embarked on a journey by foot without a map and he didn't even know where north was, or where his goal was.
Mag'Osnik had told him to follow the path until dawn tomorrow. He said not to stray from it, which sounded like a warning, and that when the sun came up, he would know where to go. Cryptic instructions, yet simple.
Cris berated himself for not getting more detailed instructions from the old man, who seemed to relish being as confusing as possible.
The woods grew even denser—as difficult as that was to believe. The trees seemed to close in all around him the farther he walked. Most of the trees were huge; present were both coniferous and deciduous trees and several that defied Earthly classification.
Some trees and plants had root systems that seemed to sit on the top of the ground, running in all directions, climbing up other trees and over the tops of competing roots. Others had limbs that hung low to the ground and swayed gently, despite the complete absence of a breeze.
One particularly odd and massive tree seemed to be standing on its many roots and looked as if, with little effort, it could move about of its own accord.
He saw vines with thorns like bayonets. Oddly, none of the roots or vines in the eerie forest crossed, or even came close to the path.
Th
e path itself, upon entering the forest, lost its thin cover of lichen, and now looked to be a path made of golden sand which greatly contrasted with the dark vegetation-choked soil in the forest.
Cris noticed that the forest was quiet, deathly quiet. Back home, this would have indicated the onset of bad weather or the presence of an intruder. Of course, he was the intruder. He wondered if the forest knew he was an alien.
Cris had the distinct feeling of being watched. He looked around, expecting to see the prying eyes of agents of Caval Du Mal, or perhaps bounty hunters. If they were out there, they were well hidden.
First, he spotted the leaves. Green on the top, purple on the bottom, the same trees into which his Eagle had fallen. Along the trunks every few meters, without any discernible pattern, there were those same large, glassy, round domes as he'd seen on the trees he landed among. Dark and deep like the eyes of some enormous predator, they all seemed to be looking right at him.
Oh, good grief. He shuddered at the idea that the trees were spying on him. He tried to block the idea out of his mind. He was helped in this regard, as the path began a steep uphill ascent, demanding all his concentration.
Several hours had passed, and Cris found he had grown hungry. He stopped and sat down to take inventory of his gear, and eat a little something.
In his possession, he had the satchel that the first aid kit came with. Inside were his survival rations and extra ammunition for his 9 mm pistol, and the bread Bell had given him. Over his shoulder on its leather strap hung the bladder Mag'Osnik had given him. On one side, the bladder was decorated with colored beads, very Native American-like, except the pattern was more Greek-looking than Native American.
Involuntarily, Cris reached for an emergency ration, and then stopped to consider Bell's bread, what had she called it? Beteko og, forever bread. Cris unfolded the cloth and with his pocketknife cut a mouthful-sized piece. It was delicious. He was tempted to cut another piece when he realized he was no longer hungry. He then opened the wizard's leather bladder and took a drink. With one swallow, he was restored—refreshed, alert, and ready to walk on all night long, which indeed, he had been told to do.
○O○
Very little sunlight entered the forest even at mid-day, so when night fell, it fell quickly. The darkness in the woods was palpable. Cris thought he could feel it breathing.
He had to stop, as he could no longer see the path. He'd been told to follow it all night, but he could not see it; add to that the warning not to turn on a light or get off the path and Cris's frustration rose. He felt the path with his feet, a distinctly sandy surface. Using his foot to guide him, he felt his way to the right side of the path where he could feel the edge of the sunken trail.
Okay, just stay along this edge and as long as the path doesn't fork I can keep moving. His progress was greatly slowed, but he was still moving.
About an hour later, Cris heard the first noise since he entered the forest. It was distant but sounded like a tree trunk being broken in half. The sound lasted about four seconds, and then silence returned. The noise came from directly in front of him, how far away, he could not tell. His path had been making a wide, gradual turn to his left. Perhaps he would miss the source of this noise altogether.
With all his senses on high alert, trying to compensate for his lack of sight, Cris cautiously continued along the edge of the path. Only a few minutes had passed when he heard the noise again, louder and closer this time. He stopped and listened. He heard another noise now, like an animal grunting and blowing out through its nose at the same time. Then, the air was split with a sound both guttural and high pitched: it was the roar of some large beast, one perhaps big enough to snap tree trunks. Cris retrieved his pistol. It would most likely be of little use against whatever was out there, but the feel of it in his hand gave him some comfort. At least he'd be able to sting it before it ate him.
From in front of him, he heard the sound of a bi-pedal creature running his way down the path. He jerked his weapon in that direction and took the posture he had been trained to take: the weapon out in front of his face so he could see to aim, pointed in the direction of the running feet.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" a decidedly female voice shouted.
"Who's there?" Cris demanded.
"Just follow me, hurry!" The person started to run away.
"Hey! Stop! Where are you?"
"Here, come on, run!"
"I can't see you."
"Are you blind?"
"Yes."
He heard the footfalls run up to him.
"Put the rama down and give me your hand, quickly!"
She was on his left, so he turned loose of the gun with that hand and extended it. He felt a small, strong, five-fingered hand grab his own and pull him back down the path in the direction from which he had come.
"I'm going the other way," he shouted as she pulled him, stumbling along.
"Not tonight you're not!"
"What's the matter?”
“A morka, you might know it as a comila, now run faster!"
"Wait, wait! You're leaving the path, I was told not to leave the path!"
"Did you not hear me gimba, there's a morka coming!"
He had trusted the wizard this far, should he not trust him still? He jerked his hand from his unseen guide.
"I'm staying on the path."
"Nice to have met you!" She said, and ran very quickly away. Cris found his way back to the path and, keeping his left foot in contact with the edge of the trail, cautiously continued along his way.
After about three meters, he felt the earth shake, then again, and again. Ahead, he thought he saw something. He eyes strained against the darkness. There, some distance away he perceived a dim, yellowish glow against which Cris could see the silhouette of nice, even rows of T-Rex-looking teeth set in an illuminated jaw. The creature had opened its mouth to let out another of those ear-splitting roars. As it did, Cris could see, growing brighter the longer the thing roared, an orange light glowing in the back of its throat. The effect was like looking into a blast furnace.
"Okay," Cris said aloud, and then turned back toward the last place he imagined he had heard the voice of the woman. "Hey! Wait for me!" Cris shouted as he ran with all his might. His movement, the vibration his running made to the ground, or perhaps his shouting into the woods had alerted the morka, and it began to bound toward him.
Cris was literally running blind. He knew he had entered the woods when he started running into branches and vines. Behind him, the morka had reached the spot where he had been standing on the path. He could hear it sniffing for his scent. Suddenly, he felt a great pain across his face: he'd run into a low branch and he was knocked onto his back. He was nearly rendered unconsciousness. He felt the ground shake. The creature was coming for him. He rose and tried to shake off the effects of his concussion. He could feel he was leaning against a tree. He ran his hands up the trunk and found a thick limb. He started to climb.
He was five or six meters up the tree and still climbing when a roar that could have shattered stone came up at him from below, the burning light from the creature's throat illuminated the scene. Looking down, he could not believe the evidence of his own eyes. There was a creature that resembled a hairless panther with the blunt head of a salamander. It had short, thick legs, and in its glowing mouth were those rows of dagger-like teeth. The beast was about four meters tall at the shoulders, six meters at the center of its back and nine to ten meters long. Its eyes were up front to provide it with parallax vision and they were enormous—the biggest eyeballs he had ever seen. There could be no doubt this creature was a night hunter.
Cris scrambled higher up the tree. The morka rose up on its hind legs and smashed its front claws into the tree. Cris looked down to see all those teeth silhouetted against the creature’s glowing throat. The mouth opened not three meters from his feet. The light started to glow in the throat as the monster let out another roar.
Ah, hell, it's pro
bably a fire breathing dragon! In the light, he could again see those huge eyes. He raised his pistol and fired four rounds into the creature's left eye. Instantly, it let out a horrendous scream and slashed out with its claws, catching Cris just above the ankle on the back of his left calf before the monster dropped to the ground. With the light gone, Cris could see nothing, but he heard the creature thrashing violently about.
The morka again struck Cris's tree violently, and slowly the tree began to fall. Cris clambered around to the upright side and as the trunk slowly became horizontal, he ran up it until he felt himself near the top branches just as the tree impacted the forest floor.
The morka was now to Cris's left on the other side of the tree's trunk, he turned to face it. Still, he could see nothing, but he heard it clearly enough. He fired another four rounds in the direction of the beast, which stopped its thrashing and turned toward Cris. It opened its mouth and hissed loudly at Cris as if to say, "I see you." Then, it charged. Cris guessed at the location of morka's right eye from its gaping, glowing jaws then fired his remaining six rounds.
Again, the great beast screamed and thrashed. Cris used its pain and confusion to run toward a cliff face he had seen just behind the monster every time it opened its mouth to scream, its throat illuminating their surroundings.
Cris took shelter as the morka now thrashed about, searching for him among the branches of the felled tree. Cris saw it roar again; but now it was farther away. In the light of its roar, Cris watched as a tree it had damaged fell and struck it on the head. It roared now out of blind anger and frustration. The light extinguished and Cris heard the thing run away at a full gallop. It crossed the path and ran out of sight and sound.
Cris leaned against the rock, slumped down onto the ground, then exhaled deeply, feeling now the pain on the back of his left calf.
"Not bad for a blind man." It was the female voice again. Instantly, Cris thrust the muzzle of his now-empty pistol into the direction of the voice.
"Whoa! You're very quick with your rama.”
Cris put the pistol in the thigh pocket of his flight suit. "You should know better than to sneak up on a man who just fought off a monster."
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