“I get to go back today.”
Thoughts flooded in of Rhiona and Kioko welcoming him home, asking him to help them with their homework. He would gladly help them as they swooned over his mighty math skills. Then Mr. Fastardly would call up Ethan and tell him the instructor had made a huge mistake, Ethan deserved a license because it wasn’t fair all his friends had one except him. To make up for the loss, Mr. Fastardly would buy Ethan a Mercedes Benz and buy him a huge list of songs from iTunes including all of Ethan’s favorite bands. That was the life he was missing at home. He had to go.
“I have to go, don’t I?” she asked, fearing the truth.
“It’s the path of light. The sooner you tell him, the better it will be.”
“But it’s just so painful. He will be stuck in the swamp of his despair.”
“Caitilin, you must remember that Earthians are attached to their parents. They cannot live without them until they are older. He needs to know.”
“I can’t break his heart.”
“You can’t betray it either.”
She swallowed the hard lump in her throat. Her master was absolutely right. “Pray for me,” she said, and then she ran out of the house.
Letting out both wings, she took flight into the forest. The wind picked up and carried her beneath butterfly flaps. Even though she was flying, she still felt so low for what she had to do.
“He couldn’t have gotten that far.”
It was the farthest he had ever walked alone and he was impressed by his freedom. Ethan’s attention was brought to a leaf drifting on a wind current. It swirled in independence, carelessly weaving between the trees. Ethan thought, soon I will be as free as that leaf. He watched it for a while, admiring its tenacity to stay in the air. When it landed, a foot came out and trampled it.
It was too late to run; the boy was traumatized to see five men staring hungrily at his body. The small, stocky man-like creatures were covered in brown fur, except where pure muscles bulged from their chest. Each one had a forked tail that swung violently, and claws were extending from the hands of each. Their faces were comprised of fur, sharp eyes, thick bone, and razor teeth.
The leader, Malegrom, licked his forearms while twiddling with a pointed dagger. He was the happiest one to be in this forest. He spoke his very grunge-ridden language. “This is the eye?”
The four trolls behind him nodded. “He’s an Earthian if I ever saw one.”
“Can we eat him?”
“Sell him as a slave.”
“Give him two curses.”
They were all wearing silver armor with interlocking rings and helmets with skull eyes carved into them. It was not the kind of folk an outsider needed to mess with.
Ethan found some courage and started running. His legs kicked up dirt while his heart pumped mercilessly. He had to get to Gibbs’ house. He wasn’t sure why, but he knew the Phaenix would have something to protect him. The trees swished past him, the bushes caught his breeze. Perhaps the ape men wanted to congratulate him on the loss of his recent curse. They probably wanted to share in his wonderful news. Who was he kidding? Everything in this vile forest wanted to kill him. The only reason Caitilin was kind, was because she had some kind of brain damage that forced her to be decent to others. In this world, if you are a squid, have fur or wings then you were a trained killer. These guys were trained killers by that definition.
Ethan felt a sharp pain in his calf and it sent him to the ground reeling. The pain shot up into his thigh. He gritted his teeth and rolled up into a fetal position. In the distance, he heard laughing.
Malegrom’s dagger was embedded into his calf about an inch. A stream of blood trickled out onto his jeans. Ethan was in too much pain to contemplate their next move. He clutched his leg and tried to crawl.
“Help!”
Caitilin broke her train of thought and instantly recognized the voice. Her Earthian was in trouble. That scream he gave was of pure desperation, the kind hoping for immediate assistance.
She curved her wings to catch the wind faster and flapped them more rapidly. Swooping near the sound of the scream, she couldn’t see anything but trees. The wind around her deafened the sounds below.
“Scream again,” she thought frantically.
Ethan was more than happy to oblige. Another cry for help bellowed from the ground and she pursued it. Shooting toward the ground to land fast, she wondered what Ethan had found. Was it another Red hog or an Octaflaught? She wasn’t prepared.
She rushed in to see Ethan crawling for dear life. On his trail were five Kalhari trolls, laughing at the boy’s pain. They weren’t going to finish this fast; they were going to take their time. He would be tortured, burned alive, and skinned if they got the chance with him.
She dove between the Kalhari and the boy, not sure where her courage or adrenaline was coming from. With the eyes of an angry mother, she glared at Malegrom.
“Away, now! Banish,” she said in their language. She produced a small flame in her fingertips; though she had never led an offensive against anyone with it.
She brought the flame closer to Malegrom’s face. “Away, now!” she yelled.
The five trolls did not find a deaconess very threatening. Malegrom was quick; he spit in Caitilin’s eyes, making her blind, and drove his armored knee into her midsection. She screamed out her air supply. Using his fists, he drove her wings into the dirt and pounced on her head. He took thorough pleasure in hurting her.
“More, more,” the trolls yelled. “Rip her apart. Take her wings!”
Caitilin was on the ground. She felt the wind, the very wind she used to fly, knocked out of her. Her back was hot with pain and her head hurt on the hard ground. Looking over at Ethan, she saw that he was having his own painful battle. She saw the dagger in his leg and felt sorry for him. She should have been there for him. She could have watched over him better. They were both at the hands of torturous trolls and there was nothing they could do about it.
She then realized that she would never get to tell Ethan what she had to tell him. Maybe if she had told him, he wouldn’t have left to this doom. It was too much to think about now. A boot came down and kicked the side of her cranium. The pain scorched like a poisonous lightning bolt through her tiny frame.
Malegrom and his cohorts surrounded her, snorting in delight. “This is a Phaenix deaconess,” Malegrom said. “I hear they scream out the name of their god when you stab them.”
He grabbed a chunk of her golden hair and ripped it out, despite her clumsy attempts to stop them. She screamed out in a ghastly way, but all it did was invite them to do more. Holding her golden hair in his claw, he sniffed it and spit in disgust.
Ethan saw how she protected him and felt his heart turn cold. Wasn’t the curse gone? Why do bad things always happen to me? She was going to die, all because he had gone out by himself. He needed to do something. He stopped worrying about his pain, bit his lip, and realized the dagger in his leg could be used against one of them.
With a face full of agonizing tears, he pulled out the silver dagger and held it in his hands. He was careful not to cry out so he wouldn’t alert the trolls, who were focused on Caitilin. The dagger was light and the tip was still sharp. His blood on the tip of the blade reassured him that it could do some damage. The only thing he could do was throw it. He saw a troll within his range: Malegrom. The troll’s back was exposed, revealing his neck as a perfect target. If he tossed it hard, the tip might just pierce the neck. If it didn’t, he would still have the attention of the trolls. Either way, he did not plan past this one action.
A troll pounded his metal boot on Caitilin’s back and she felt pain writhe through her body. They were trying to break her in half. She called out to the Daysun in deep pitiful cries, each cry being answered with a stomp from the trolls.
It was time.
Ethan cocked one eye closed. He aimed carefully. He was ready to try it now. He squinted his left eye, while holding the dagger closer to his open
eye. He needed the right angle. Malegrom’s neck was in clear view.
The dagger flew from his hand and twirled perfectly in the air. Its trajectory was a clean, straight line, blending the right air speed with the arc. The dagger flawlessly sailed past Malegrom’s head and gracefully flew into a tree. Instantly, Malegrom knew the boy had just tried to hurt him.
The other Kalhari trolls were astounded. The Earthian had just fronted an attack. They had never known Earthians for fighting their kind. The species was known for singing and eating, but tended to cower in fear when provoked by things they didn't understand. They suddenly found an interest in the lame boy.
Using his unwounded leg to move, Ethan inched away. Like a slug, he left a blood trail for them to follow. He had a deeper appreciation for beached squids moving so slowly.
Malegrom showed his forked tongue. He was like a cat mesmerized by a fish. They stood over him, wearing the same ravenous smile they had sported for Caitilin. Ethan had seen how merciless and destructive they were to Caitilin. There was no chance they would be easier on him.
They looked at the boy. “Earthians are very pitiful.”
“We should eat his soul.”
The third member produced a small groan. His response was supposed to be a very nasty, “I want to chew on his skin,” but instead he spewed some painful gurgles. He coughed out blood and hit the ground face first, landing on Ethan’s body, knocking Ethan’s head on the ground.
There was an arrow in the troll’s back, bright green with a Phaenix insignia carved into the stem. Someone else was nearby.
The other four trolls defensively turned around, but another arrow seized the neck of one of them. This particular troll desired to scream some new obscenities he learned from a friend, but instead bellowed in pain. The arrow struck and the troll struggled for life.
Malegrom nervously looked around, dropping his intimidation act. The woods were empty. Not a single Phaenix. Who was shooting these arrows?
“Who dares?” the three remaining trolls shrieked. They looked around, but no one could see the archer.
Another arrow came out of trees and struck the troll beside Malegrom. It was a perfect shot, instantly sending him to his knees.
Malegrom raised his spare dagger. “You’re not getting me!” He ran over to a patch of the woods to block any shots with thick forest growth and a mess of trees. He was wrong. Malegrom walked right into the path of an arrow. It was over.
The final troll panicked and started to run. He scurried past a row of sycamore trees, blindly looking for an escape. Instead he found a blunt object rammed across his face. He was hit coldly, knocking him down onto his back.
The hooded Phaenix holding the club, a strong and tall man, made sure not to knock him out. The man wanted to see the look of pure fear on the troll’s face as he stood over it. Sure enough, the troll whimpered like a baby pig. Where was its confidence now?
The Phaenix pulled out his small wooden dagger and took the troll’s life. It was a fast death, more than the troll deserved, but the Phaenix had other things on his mind. He kicked over the dead troll.
The world went whisper quiet, even the birds were watching in awe. The hooded savior put down his green quiver and bow to see what the trolls had wanted.
Dear Daysun, he thought when he saw what the trolls had been after.
From the look of her robe, he knew that she was a deaconess. Placing his two fingers under her neck, he felt her vital signs—slow and out of rhythm. He retracted her wings into her back and rolled her over to face upward. Caitilin, Gibbs’ most treasured deaconess. But what was she doing here? Looking over to the huddled up piece of meat next to her, he also wondered what that was.
The Phaenix kicked over the dead trolls near Ethan. Checking the boy’s vital signs, he realized the male was passed out. There was a small goose egg on his head where the troll had fallen on him and bruises on his face. He had never seen a boy like this before. He was too skinny to be an Elfin and not furry enough to be a Wolfian. His clothes were also strange, they weren’t connected into one tunic. Instead, they were separated into a top and a bottom. The bottom apparel was a scraggly, blue leather with metal buttons on it. The top had a symbol on it that must be his tribe insignia. The Phaenix took a second look at the boy’s face, seeing his too-thin nose and spread out cheekbones. This was an Earthian. What was he doing here? Was he with these trolls?
“Hinson!” an urgent voice called within earshot.
Gibbs glided down from the sky, his wings closing silently. He nervously scanned the dead bodies. Sickness rose inside him to see his beloved Caitilin on the ground. “What happened, Hinson?”
“Trolls! There were five of them, and by the looks of their light armor they are Kalhari fastmen. It only takes a few days for them to run a great distance. I can’t tell what they wanted. It’s Caitilin, master.”
Gibbs ran over to Caitilin, kneeling down and stroking her hair. “My Caity, my deaconess, is she all right?”
He checked over her body, seeing how much pain she was in. It was never a deaconess’s will to be part of battle. They were needed for healing, but now she needed to be healed.
Hinson rubbed his temples. “She has a nasty concussion. But who is the human one? Is he consorting with the trolls?”
Gibbs walked over to Ethan. “No, this young lad is an Earthian. He had a curse and I removed it from him.”
Hinson nodded. He could take shocking news with a degree of calmness. He also had an uncanny ability to solve puzzles. Part of his training at the Readying House was scouting out a situation and analyzing what had happened. One troll lay on the ground near Caitilin. It must have been the leader, because he wore the most decorated armor. Hinson pulled a pointed dagger from a nearby tree and sniffed it. It had an Earthian scent on it, and Earthian blood, but it was troll-made. Looking over at Ethan, he saw three of the dead trolls in a cluster a few steps away. The human had a hole in his jeans and blood leaking down his leg. The situation crystallized for Hinson.
“The boy was the first one to meet up with these trolls. He tried to run away—that explains the distance between them. They put this dagger in his calf to stop him. Caitilin came in to protect him, but she was knocked out. The trolls were beating her, and the Earthian must have tried to use the dagger against this one. Judging from the angle of the throw, it was the boy who tried to save her. The trolls were after the boy.”
Gibbs sighed deeply and hunched his back. “It’s all becoming too clear. The sky of truth is revealing a horrible horizon. We need to bring both of them back.”
Reality was feeling more and more like a nightmare in Gibbs’ mind.
Ethan had tried to save Caitilin. It was a sloppy gesture, but it meant so much in light of what the Daysun had been trying to tell him. He sighed again, realizing the boy needed to get back.
“What’s becoming too clear?” Hinson wondered.
Gibbs held the news like a bad taste in his mouth. “I’ll explain later.”
*****
The trolls were marching again. They had been walking to the general’s voice for two days, burning as much forest as they could.
Fragile had a chance to look over his soldiers. They were numerous and mighty. No army could overcome his sheer numbers and ferocity.
In the front of the foot soldiers were the archer troops. Their bodies were covered in light chain-link armor for mobility. Their black bows were made of a sleek black hollow wood. They had the task of showering the opposing troops with arrows and creating confusion for the sword trolls to invade. A Kalhari archer was only skilled in one facet of battle: landing an arrow where the enemy would feel it the most.
The sword trolls were the largest of their species. They donned the heaviest cast iron armor and carried thick broadswords made of steel. Their achievements were measured in how many Phaenix wings, Wolfian furs, and Elfin ears they could collect. This force was often referred to as the unmovable wall.
The artist trolls carrie
d the fire. They had no armor; it obstructed the concentration of artistry. Instead they wore black hooded robes with the skulls of enemies. In the place of armor, they were given metal shields with holes in the middle of them. This allowed them to fire a projectile through the hole and still block an opponent.
Near the rear of the line, Fragile saw the vilest of his troops. These were the riders of the sokratist bears. Every Kalhari knew the sokratist bear was the most vicious bear in all of Bangor. They had agile limbs with strong torsos and snouts made for hunting. Given the right motivation, a sokratist bear could rip apart a whole unit with its large claws and fast moving body. Taming one of these monsters was a near impossible task, but Fragile had a whole regiment of them. Their riders were tough men who wore no armor and did not need it because of the beast they had control of.
Finally, if the whole trained army wasn’t enough, the Kalhari force was generously supplied with lesser trolls to carry caravans with supplies to last up to two cycles. They wouldn’t need to farm off the Phaenix lands.
Fragile walked up to his brother Kashun and smiled at him coyly. “My leadership has created this wonderful army. I am the reason we are completely invincible.”
Kashun felt nauseated in his stomach, which could only mean his brother was boasting again. He smiled back. “Brother, do not break your sword hand from patting yourself on the back too excessively.”
They had passed many Phaenix villages and scouted for more Phaenix to hunt down. The trolls found no opposition to challenge them as they burned the root houses and tree houses. When they stumbled upon the great building, the one building that bore the Daysun’s name, the soldiers became excited. They noted how elevated and mighty it stood in the East forest. It had gold-shingled roofs and walls lined with precious gems. The temple was elevated off the ground by four stilts and the path leading up to it was also lined with gemstones. A unit of artists begged Fragile to burn it down. He looked at them with compassion. “How can I say no?”
The dark artists lit fires at the base of the walls, melting the gem stones and destroying the artifacts within. Inside the temple lay golden bowls for holding incense and golden swords representing victory over an opposing army. The trolls destroyed every last inch of it. While the flames shot toward the sky, the dark artists cursed the Daysun, laughing and mocking as every flame flared higher.
The Boy and His Curse Page 11