by Travis Bughi
“I don’t know,” Takeo admitted, his mind and heart working hard to remain calm. “You can’t fight these things. We’ve always just run.”
“The cliff,” Nicholas said. “Can we push it over the cliff?”
“How?” Takeo asked. “It’s bigger than all of us.”
“Too late!” Gavin shouted.
The rock pinning the gashadokuro cracked and shattered, sending forth a cloud of dust and pebbles to scatter in the wind. The giant itself shrieked in triumph as it broke free, bursting onto the small platform and sending the humans and ogre scrambling away. They fled in all directions, drawing weapons and backing up to the ledge behind them.
“Split up!” Takeo yelled over the thrashing gashadokuro. “Nicholas, it’s coming for you!”
The giant didn’t even bother scrambling to its feet before reaching out for the viking, thrusting wide its mouth, intending to slide the boy in between its teeth and mash him into bloody bits. This was a mistake, as Nicholas was wielding a hammer.
Nicholas swung hard and fast, drawing his weapon up over his head and down onto the creature’s boney fingers like he was chopping wood. Metal collided with bone, and the gashadokuro screamed as the tips of its fingers shattered into dust.
“Take that, you pile of—” Nicholas started.
The gashadokuro, unable to feel pain, swept in with its other hand and latched onto Nicholas with a strength that would crush rocks. Nicholas went silent as the bones wrapped around him, squeezed the air from his lungs, and drew him towards the creature’s mouth.
Takeo, Gavin, and Krunk rushed in.
The samurai went for Nicholas, sheathing his katana because his sword would not cut bones the size of tree limbs. Takeo grabbed ahold of the larger man and dug his heals into the ground, trying desperately to slow Nicholas’ descent into death. When that didn’t work, he tried to pull Nicholas free, shouting at the viking to wiggle and flex. Miraculously, he slipped an inch from the boney grip.
Gavin went in with shield raised, roaring and giving the metal three quick bangs with his sword before barreling into the gashadokuro’s head. The shield struck thick skull, making the gashadokuro pause in dragging Nicholas in. The giant screeched at Gavin and then lunged at him with mouth wide open, which must have been Gavin’s plan as he leapt back and slammed his shield into the thing’s jaw, knocking loose a tooth, which fell to the ground.
Krunk, in an unbelievable display of bravery and strength, drew the massive hunk of metal he called a sword and went straight for the gashadokuro’s ribcage. The ogre swung hard, howling like an oni as every muscle in his body flexed and pulsed, veins popping out like thick cords all across his body. The sword slammed into the bones, cracking two of them and shearing off one completely. Krunk hardly paused to savor his victory, leaping onto the giant’s spine and raising his sword for another blow.
The gashadokuro screeched and dropped Nicholas before rolling onto its back and reaching out two massive hands to tear Krunk to pieces. For a moment, Takeo thought the ogre doomed, but then Krunk leapt into the hole he’d created and used the gashadokuro’s own ribcage for protection. The giant’s boney fingers slammed against itself and tried to poke through the openings as Krunk ducked and dodged within his macabre prison. Unable to swing his massive sword, the ogre let it drop to the ground in favor of using both his hands to keep from being impaled. Had he been alone, it would have only been a matter of time.
“Hey!” Nicholas raged as he gasped for air. “I’m not finished with you yet!”
The viking drew up his maul and charged the gashadokuro, yelling and swinging as if he were an ogre as well. He aimed for the thing’s skull and connected solidly. The head cracked.
The gashadokuro opened its jaws and let loose a scream so piercing that all of them dropped to their knees.
“I think I hurt it!” Nicholas moaned.
The gashadokuro stopped trying to attack and scrambled to its feet, and Krunk dropped into the bowl created by its pelvic bone.
“Look out!” Takeo yelled, drawing his useless sword instinctively.
The gashadokuro bent low and swept a claw in a half circle around it, attempting to strike them all down.
Gavin was first in line and so had the least time to react. He couldn’t get out of the way in time, but he did get his shield up, which saved his life as the bone struck metal and lifted the knight completely off his feet to spiral into the air. He slammed to the ground and skidded across the rock, coming to a blessed stop just before the edge.
Takeo fared better, diving forward and dodging the claws altogether.
Nicholas swung his hammer and struck the hand as it came roaring towards him. The claw burst into dust, sending splinters and chunks of white cascading into the air.
“I got you now, monster,” Nicholas howled, grinning with battle lust. “Come and get me!”
The gashadokuro clattered and shook its broken hand, seeming stunned and somehow terrified, though Takeo had thought the things immune to emotion. It focused its hollow eye sockets on Nicholas and hunkered down to charge.
“Krunk.” Takeo clasped his hands to either side of his mouth. “Krunk! Get out!”
The ogre was struggling to get a foothold in the gashadokuro’s bones. He got stuck with one leg dangling out the bottom, and he jerked free to try and roll out, but the gashadokuro chose that moment to charge Nicholas. The force of its movement slammed the ogre back into the creature’s spine.
“Nicholas, no!” Gavin yelled.
But it was too late. With the gashadokuro’s speed, Nicholas could do nothing to help the ogre. The viking swung his hammer, crushing the giant’s boney shin and sending the shrieking gashadokuro summersaulting towards the edge, and Krunk finally fell free of its bones at the wrong time. The ogre disappeared over the side of the cliff along with the gashadokuro.
Takeo listened with seized breath as the terrible shriek faded into the distance, until finally the horrid crunch of bones shattering against rock silenced the screams forever.
“No,” Gavin yelled, leaping to his feet. “No! Krunk! KRUNK!”
“Krunk here!” came a throaty shout from below.
Takeo, Gavin, and Nicholas exchanged glances and then bolted to the ledge to peer over. Several body lengths below, Krunk hung by a single hand on an outstretched chunk of rock. The ogre jerked to grab the ledge with his other hand but failed, and his grip slipped an inch. One purple finger came loose.
“Krunk, don’t move!” Gavin yelled frantically. “Just hold on. Hold on!”
Nicholas was already uncoiling the rope around him, tossing loose one end and grabbing onto the other with a death grip, sinking in his heels. Gavin grabbed for the other end, but Takeo snatched it up first.
“I’m lighter,” Takeo argued. “Help Nicholas.”
There wasn’t time to argue, though the look in Gavin’s eyes said he wanted to. The knight dug in his heels and grabbed the rope alongside Nicholas. Takeo tied the rope loosely about himself and went over the edge.
“I’m coming, Krunk,” he shouted as he began a rapid descent.
“Krunk has to pee!” the ogre whimpered as another purple finger came loose.
“Hold on,” Takeo begged, scrambling down the rocks, not caring when his feet slipped, and falling when it suited him. “I’m almost there.”
Takeo landed on the rock and caught Krunk’s hand just as one of the last two fingers started to slip. The samurai threw out his other hand, and Krunk took it. The ogre’s great weight almost tore Takeo off the rocks, but Krunk only held on for the moment it took to get his hands back on the ledge, this time both of them.
“Give me some rope!” Takeo shouted.
The rope slackened, and Takeo untied it from his waist and dangled it down to Krunk.
“You first,” he commanded. “Go, Krunk.”
The ogre obeyed, taking the rope and scrambling up the cliff side. Takeo went next, pausing only to look down. Several hundred paces below, the bed of roc
ks was now painted white with shattered bones and dust. Still breathing hard, Takeo blinked in wonderment. He couldn’t believe the four of them had done that.
“Maybe we can do this,” he whispered.
Chapter 22
Needless to say, they were a lot more careful after that day, climbing slower, checking around corners, and testing the wind to see which way their scent blew. Their progress slowed because of this, but the hardest part was suffering through each night without the warmth of a fire.
This was especially grueling as they reached into the second week and the snow began to fall. The thin air, streaking through tunnels and across ledges, was brutal enough on its own. It sapped heat from their bodies, snatched the air from their lungs, and brought flakes of ice and snow to cover everything in sight.
Nicholas had the worst of it. As the best climber, he was the only person capable of scaling the treacherous cliff faces under the combined snow, ice, and wind, but even for him, the climbs were brutal. Sometimes Nicholas would finish a climb, but they’d all have to wait for the warmth and feeling to return to his fingers before he could tie the rope off and let them ascend.
Takeo, Gavin, and Krunk felt bad, but they all agreed that at this height, it was better safe than sorry. If a less experienced climber attempted these cliffs, they’d likely fall, break a bone, and then they’d be in real trouble. There was no help to be had up here at this height. Any injury beyond slight would be a cause for death.
“You know, I’m not suggesting we sleep together because you’re cute, right?” Nicholas said to Gavin one particularly chilly night after they’d failed to find shelter.
“Even if you did, I wouldn’t care,” Gavin said through chattering teeth. “It hasn’t stopped snowing all day, and I haven’t been able to feel any of my extremities for just as long.”
That was the long and short of the conversation they had before piling on top of each other for warmth. Besides the constant shifting from one person to the next, they all agreed that it was worth it. They slept like that whenever they could.
They were all miserable, even more so than they’d been in Khaz Mal, but they were too proud to say it. Daily and nightly small talk slowly lessened until, finally, it stopped altogether, and the lack of sustenance from rationing their food and water was starting to take its toll. Takeo’s clothes felt looser and his sword heavier, and his eyes wanted to freeze shut with every blink. Even Nicholas, champion complainer, refused to let the mountain know that it was beating him, but through Nicholas’ thick clothes, Takeo noticed the viking was thinning.
Perhaps to break up the monotony, or perhaps out of curiosity, Nicholas struck up a discussion while they camped just beneath the cloud line near the summit.
“Tell me, Takeo,” he said. “How is it something like that giant skeleton can exist? And here of all places? It must be magic. It has to be.”
“No one knows for certain.” Takeo shrugged as well as he could while covered in several layers of clothes and blankets. “But there is a theory.”
“Let’s have it,” Gavin said, a puff of white steam flowing from his chapped lips.
“Juatwa has been at war with itself for longer than anyone here has been alive,” Takeo explained, “so much so that the position of soldier—or samurai—is neither considered a rank nor a profession. It’s something in your blood, a lifestyle, who you are as a person and who you will always be. Think about it. Juatwa's samurai are technically a lesser noble class whose only goals in life are to be the best at killing and to die an honorable death in battle.”
“Not unlike vikings,” Nicholas noted.
“True, but samurai take it one step further,” Takeo continued. “Unlike vikings, samurai do not pillage, do not plant crops, and do not harvest. We do not craft or sew. Unlike vikings, we are not warriors sometimes and farmers at others. We are warriors to the core, honored and raised above the rest. I’m getting away from the question, though, so let me return.
“Juatwa means war. The sunsets are red because the clouds reflect the blood soaked land. The ground is fertile because it is enriched with the dead. Farmers carry special notebooks that describe how best to use a corpse-ridden countryside to grow crops, and any sort of digging yields a variety of bones just beneath the topsoil.
“The theory of the gashadokuro is that we samurai have created the giants ourselves. A gashadokuro is formed from every battlefield. The dead draw their bones together to make a giant skeleton. In death, there is no good nor bad, no pledge of allegiance that separates one samurai from another. In death, we become one body. Like banshees born of loneliness, gashadokuro are born of war.”
A silence fell over the group, made wretched by the falling flakes of snow. They stared at the empty space between them, the place where a fire would go, until they couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Well, I’ve had my fill of horror stories,” Gavin said. “Sleep, anyone?”
The next day brought them into the clouds, and the white, damp air all around blocked all visibility beyond the reach of one’s own hand. The wind ceased, thankfully, but the going was more treacherous than it had ever been before. They couldn’t tell which path was best to take. They’d try one way, reach a ledge or a boulder, and be unable to see if there was anything around or past it. They had to tie a rope to each other just so they wouldn’t get lost, stumbling around in the thick, icy fog.
Takeo thought his vision was growing worse by the second until he realized ice was forming on his eyebrows and dripping into his vision. He scraped a cold gloved hand across his face to wipe the icicles away.
“Any further and we’ll reach Valhalla,” Nicholas said through the cloth wrapped around his mouth.
“At this point, I’d beg for it,” Gavin replied.
They climbed over a shallow ledge and found blessedly flat rock beneath their feet. Nicholas led the way, stepping carefully to make sure he didn’t tumble over a cliff.
“We must be nearing the end of the clouds,” he said.
It was true. They could see several paces in front of them now.
Better yet, they knew the mountaintop was close because the ground was level and they were no longer surrounded by sheer stone walls. They pressed on through the fog, stepping carefully and keeping one hand on the rope that connected them.
“How are we going to find the sennin in this mess?” Nicholas asked. “Should I call out for it?”
“And summon another gashadokuro?” Gavin replied. “I’m not so miserable I want to die.”
“None of you were listening when I told you about this creature,” Takeo said. “The sennin embodies knowledge. It knows the past, present, and future of itself and the world. Not even the angels, as amazing as they are, can rival the wisdom of this being. It knew we were coming before we started. If it’s here, we will find it because it wants to be found. Keep looking.”
They made their way through the fog, stumbling over rocks, into waist-sized boulders, and across the occasional snow-covered tree. They found a cave, but it turned out to be shallow and empty save for the boney remains of some poor creature. They exited quickly and decided to climb to the top of the cave in the hope that they might rise above the mist. A good choice, as the heavy fog ended just at its crest.
The fog churned about their ankles and swept out in all directions like a thick blanket. The skies above them were clear save for a few light, puffy clouds. Takeo and the others pulled down their mouth coverings and stared up into the bright sunlight, letting its warmth caress their cheeks and kiss them softly. The air was still too thin to hold much warmth, but they felt blessed to see such radiance anyway, and Takeo’s chapped lips protested and cracked as he pulled them into a faint smile.
“Yet another place I’d never thought I’d see,” Gavin said. “This is where clouds come to rest.”
“Krunk could rest here, too.”
“Were we in Savara, I’d call this place a roc’s nest,” Takeo mused, “but a cloud’s bed seems equal
ly fitting.”
“When I retell this part of my story,” Nicholas said, stretching his arms to expand his chest, “I’ll say I met Kollskegg Ludinson the Sturdy here as an einherjar, and he told me of the great warrior I’d become.”
“A lie such as that would make a satyr shed a tear in pride,” Gavin said.
“Never let the truth get in the way of a good story,” Nicholas said with a smirk.
“Where did you hear that?” Gavin narrowed an eye and pointed an accusing finger. “There’s no way you made that up. That’s too good.”
“Hey,” Takeo said. “Look.”
The three followed his line of sight and spied in the distance a tiny island of land amongst the sea of clouds. On top of this island stood a lone tree, and beneath its shadow hunched a human figure.
“Is that it?” Gavin asked. “It’s not moving.”
“Sennin don’t fidget like humans,” Takeo replied. “They rival stone with their stillness.”
“Well?” Nicholas gestured at them. “What are we waiting for?”
They scampered back down into the fog and picked their way across the landscape, scaling what they could and dodging what they couldn’t. They did their best to head in the right direction, hoping that if they got close enough, they’d be able to spot the tree or hill that would take them to the sennin. After an hour of stumbling about, they realized something had gone wrong.
“We should have found it by now,” Gavin said. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I think we should untie the rope and split up. Shout if you find the place, or if you find trouble.”
“Specify which, because if it’s trouble, then I’ll be running in the opposite direction,” Nicholas said.
Takeo looked sidelong at the viking, whose smile showed just how clever he thought his joke was.
“Dangerous though it may be, we don’t have a choice,” Takeo conceded. “We can’t stay up here long. We’ll still need enough food and water to get back down.”