by Allan Cole
There was a scatter of motion in the trees, like errant winds bursting forth in every direction and he saw enormous apes swinging away from his entry point, jabbering simian curses.
A huge snake fell in his path, rising up on threatening coils, spitting poison at his eyes.
But all his alarm bells were already ringing and he brought his shield up just in time for the poison to splatter against it.
Jooli shouted something he couldn't make out, but he instinctively leaped to the side and an arrow from her bow pinned the snake to the ground.
Leiria rushed in, severing the snake's head with her sword. It fell on the black leafy ground, hissing and spitting its poisonous hate.
Safar heard shouts of dismay from the soldiers and whirled around to see thorny vines and branches shooting forth to bar the entrance into the jungle.
Somewhere not far off an ape hooted in triumphant glee.
Safar raced to the closing gap, hacking at the vines with his sword. Leiria and Jooli crowded in to help. But as fast as they cut, the vines grew back at double the speed and thickness.
Then he heard an explosive pop! and two large insect eyes appeared out of nowhere, only inches from his face.
Crying a warning to the others he stumbled back, only to find himself caught in the sticky tendrils of a frighteningly strong web.
He fought his way out, then slashed at the thick strands entangling Leiria and Jooli.
Freed, they dashed out of the gap, which healed itself with such blinding speed that soon there was no sign of the path by which they'd entered.
Instead, Safar found himself confronted by an enormous black spider—big as a royal banquet platter. Poison oozed from large fangs set in a mouth large enough to grip a child's head.
Several strands of web shot out of tubes along its bloated body. The thick threads wrapped around branches on either side of Safar and the spider rushed along them to attack.
Jooli's arrow hissed past Safar's ear, knocking the spider to the ground and killing it. But then other spiders—just as big and fierce—popped out of nothingness and scuttled toward them.
Safar ordered a hasty but orderly retreat along the narrow path. The squad of soldiers led the way, wary of new dangers. Jooli acted as rearguard, firing arrow after arrow into the spiders, while Leiria and Safar used their swords on those that got through.
Gradually, the number of spiders diminished and then they seemed to vanish altogether. Safar called a halt to reconnoiter but, as far as he or any of the others could tell, there were no other paths except the one they'd taken.
The trees were so tall and dense it seemed like twilight under their canopy instead of the middle of the day. The forest was strangely silent. There were no bird or insect sounds. Even the apes were quiet. It was hot and humid and the air smelled of rotting things.
The Kyranians moved on, treading lightly and keeping their voices to a whisper.
Then Sergeant Hamyr, who was a bit older than the other soldiers and a skilled tracker, found Palimak's footprints in the carpet of decaying leaves.
"At least we know we're on the right trail,” Leiria observed.
"The question, of course,” Jooli said, “is whether it'll eventually take us out of this place. After we find Palimak, that is."
Safar shrugged. “If we can't find a way to walk out,” he said, “all we have to do is start climbing.” He gestured at the towering trees. “Biner is ready to pick us up with the airship anytime we're ready."
There were murmurs of relief from Sergeant Hamyr and the others. Rattled by the events of the past hour, they'd forgotten the fall-back plan.
"We can also rely on Biner to send us reinforcements if we need them,” Safar added—further comforting his soldiers.
He patted a hefty pouch on his belt. “I have plenty of signal powder. So I only have to find an open space, or get high enough into the trees, to let Biner know what's happening."
Everyone felt much better after that, talking in normal voices and enjoying a quick meal of parched corn and dried goat flesh which they washed down with good Kyranian wine mixed with honey and water.
Refreshed and with their spirits restored, the expedition continued—following the narrow path that wound through the gloom like an uncoiling snake.
However, Safar was not as unconcerned about their situation as he'd made out. Dead magic permeated the forest. Rather than coming from a single source, the magic seemed to radiate from all sides as if the very trees were inhabited by unfriendly spirit folk.
Quietly, he cast some warding spells and hoped for the best. Moments after he'd finished, Jooli slipped up to his side.
"You can feel it, too?” she whispered so the others wouldn't hear.
Safar nodded. “But I've taken some precautions,” he said.
"As have I,” Jooli said. “Except I don't think any of our spells are strong enough."
"That's because we don't know who or what we're guarding against,” Safar said. “We're both working blind."
He gestured ahead, where the path curved around a vine-choked tree, saying, “Unless I'm well off my mark, I think we'll find out soon enough. There's something waiting for us just past that point."
Jooli's eyes narrowed as she concentrated. Then she nodded. “You're right,” she said. “But I can't make out what it is. Everything seems ... I don't know, scattered."
That was exactly how Safar would have described the strange waves of magic he sensed. It was as if they were made up of many sorcerous particles with no particular center or purpose, but had only been brought together by coincidence.
"We'd better investigate before we walk right into some sort of trap,” Safar said.
"Why don't I go ahead,” Jooli asked, “while you watch my back?"
Safar agreed and called another halt. He told the group there were some unexplained disturbances he and Jooli needed to investigate, playing down the danger and making it seem like a routine precaution.
Leiria knew what he was up to. They'd fought together so many times that even the subtle system of signals they'd worked out over the years was unnecessary. She sensed what was happening before he had a chance to tug his earlobe or straighten his sword belt.
Instantly, she took appropriate action. “If Jooli's going to play witch when she takes point,” she said, “we'll need plenty of hard steel behind her, not just more magic."
Leiria spread the men out along the trail, spears and swords at ready. When Jooli signaled to begin, they all moved forward—Safar lagging back, alert to magical attack from both the front and the rear.
When she reached the tree that marked the bend in the trail Safar saw Jooli hesitate, then lean forward to concentrate. He'd become familiar with her sorcerous spoor and caught the tingle of her magic as she probed the area beyond.
Safar added his own powers to her work and found nothing to be alarmed about.
The he saw her shrug and step forward.
Immediately, the air around her began to glow. Although he caught no scent of magic—threatening or otherwise—Safar opened his mouth to call a warning.
Then the glow became a cloud of colorful butterflies that circled her for a moment, then swept along the path just above the soldiers’ heads. Except for quick glances, no one paid them the slightest attention—not even pausing to admire this swirling rainbow of flying insects.
Leiria and the soldiers were so tensed for possible danger that the butterflies’ beauty escaped them.
Jooli turned her head and called back, “Everything's fine. I'm going on.” Then she disappeared around the bend.
Leiria was the next to cross and once again a cloud of butterflies appeared, circling her briefly before flying down the trail. She too signaled that all was well and that she was proceeding.
Sergeant Hamyr followed, leading the soldiers around the bend, absently brushing at a third swarm of the marvelous butterflies.
Safar paused at the tree. He studied the ground, then examined the mass
ive roots that rose twenty feet or more before they joined the trunk.
He saw a large snake, thick as a man's body, moving slowly up one of the roots. But its attention was fixed on a monkey, sitting silently and peacefully on a limb, grooming itself.
Other than the snake, he could see nothing that might endanger him. Nor could he see where the butterflies had come from.
He heard Leiria call to him, her voice calm and reassuring. So he stepped forward, alert for the slightest disturbance.
And nothing happened. No odd shimmer of the atmosphere. Not even a single butterfly rising up, much less a colorful swarm.
He went around the bend and some distance away saw Leiria and the others squatting on the trail, peacefully munching on rations and slaking their thirst.
Leiria waved to him. “It's all right, Safar,” she cried. “Come and have something to eat and drink."
Then Jooli called out. “We found more of Palimak's footprints."
Safar hurried forward, anxious to see.
Without warning, the ground shifted under him. He fell heavily, hands shooting out to catch himself.
But when he landed, instead of the leafy jungle trail he found himself gripping hot, bare ground.
And all around him he heard hundreds of voices roar: “Kill, kill, kill! Death to Safar Timura!"
Safar came up, bewildered—but automatically reaching for his sword. He found himself standing in a large arena made of hard-packed red earth.
And instead of the jungle and his waiting friends he saw hundreds upon hundreds of shouting, painted savages—all pounding the ground with the butts of their spears. Horns blared, drums thundered and somewhere a big cat screamed in fury.
From behind he heard the heavy slap of feet racing toward him and he whirled, sword coming up. But then he froze, gaping.
For charging toward him was a half-naked youth. Brandishing a long spear aimed straight at Safar's heart.
It was Palimak!
And the crowd roared: “Kill, kill, kill! Death to Safar Timura!"
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
THE FOREST OF FORGETFULNESS
Even over the whistling wind and hard-driven rain, Palimak could hear the waves boom against the reef. Dimly he made out their jagged line—the boiling surf dyed pink by the grinning Demon Moon.
He tried to back-paddle, but the tidal current was too strong, sucking him inexorably toward the reef.
"To your right, Little Master!” Gundara cried.
Palimak obediently turned his head and saw a thick black object lifting up in the curl of a wave.
"Swim for it!” shouted Gundaree.
Palimak struck out for the object. One stroke. Two. Three. And then he was drawing close and could see it was a gnarled, twisted log, with a dozen or more limp branches trailing behind.
Palimak reached for it, then caught a glimpse of a horribly familiar set of teeth grinning out of the trunk.
Fear lanced his heart and he snatched his hand back, nearly drowning as he went under in a desperate effort to kick away from the tree-beast.
He came up, choking and sputtering, pawing at the water to stay afloat.
"Don't worry, Little Master,” Gundara cried. “It's dead!"
"Well, it's almost dead, anyway,” Gundaree quibbled.
"Never mind that!” Gundara said. “Get up on it before you drown, Little Master."
It took all of Palimak's faith in the Favorites to comply. Gingerly, he caught hold of the tree creature. He felt a faint flutter of life and heard the weak clicking of teeth.
Doing his best to still his quaking nerves, he flung himself across the trunk. He dangled there for a moment, skin instinctively shrinking where it touched the creature's rough surface.
"Sit up on it,” Gundaree ordered.
Shuddering, Palimak did as he was told—throwing a leg on either side until he was straddling the dying beast. Then he saw one of the fang-rimmed mouths snap open near his crotch and almost flung himself off into the sea again.
But Gundara hopped down onto the trunk, pulling a kerchief from his tunic pocket. He stuffed it into the gaping mouth.
"Eat that, you stupid thing,” he said. The Favorite turned back to Palimak. “See, we told you it would be all right,” he said.
"Sort of all right,” Gundaree cautioned.
"Well, I guess we still have to get him over that reef,” Gundara admitted.
Palimak shivered. “You mean, we're not done yet?” he asked.
"Oh, no,” Gundaree said. “That was just the first part of the idea."
"The easiest part,” Gundara added.
If crawling up onto one of these awful monsters was the twins’ idea of easy, Palimak didn't even want to think about what was coming next.
Then he flinched as one of the tree creature's trailing limbs thrashed back to life. It rose from the water, hung there for a moment, then started to curl toward him—several small mouths opening to expose chattering fangs.
"Oh, pooh!” Gundaree said. “Honestly, some things don't know when they're dead."
"Cut it off with your knife, Little Master,” Gundara advised. “It's hard to concentrate with all that chewing noise."
"The stupid thing's making me hungry,” Gundaree complained.
Numb, Palimak pulled out his knife and lopped the branch off. It fell into the sea and sank out of sight.
"Let's get on with it, please,” Palimak said, returning his knife to its sheath. He nodded at the reef. “We're getting awfully close."
"I don't know,” Gundara said doubtfully. “Are you sure you can stand up that long?"
"Maybe it'd be better to wait until the last minute,” Gundaree put in.
"Stand up?” Palimak croaked. “What do you mean, stand up?"
"Well, how else are you going to jump over the reef?” Gundara asked.
"Maybe he knows how to jump sitting down,” Gundaree said to his twin.
"Well, maybe he can,” Gundara said doubtfully, pulling on his chin. “Although I've never seen him do it. Even in the circus."
Palimak was aghast. “Have you two lost your tiny wits?” he demanded. “I thought you were going to use magic. Not have me do something that's not only impossible but ridiculous to even think about."
"Of course, we're going to use magic,” Gundaree said.
"That's what we do, remember?” Gundara put in.
"Except you have to help a little bit,” Gundaree said.
"By standing up on the tree-creature...” Gundara began.
"...And jumping when we say so,” Gundaree finished.
"Trust us,” Gundara said. “It'll work."
"And even if it doesn't,” Gundaree added, “you were going to die anyway. So what's the harm in trying?"
"We'll be all right either way,” Gundara said. “Since we're so close to the beach we won't be stuck at the bottom of the sea like we would've been before."
"That makes me feel a whole lot better,” Palimak said sarcastically.
"Such a kind Little Master,” Gundaree replied. “Always thinking of us!"
Palimak was a hair's breadth from saying to the hells with it and revolting. But then he thought, what else can I do but trust them? He also remembered their trick with the four sea carnivores. If they could pull that off, why not this?
"All right,” Palimak said grudgingly. “I'll do it."
"Isn't he brave?” Gundaree said to his twin.
"He sure is,” Gundara said. “Bravest master we've ever had."
"Except Sakyah, the demon,” Gundaree said. “He was awfully brave."
"That's true,” Gundara said. “He just couldn't jump very well."
Alarmed, Palimak asked, “You mean you've tried this trick before?"
"Sure we did,” Gundaree said. “And it almost worked, too."
"Poor Sakyah,” Gundara said. “He wasn't such a bad master."
"Better than that witch who got us next, at any rate,” Gundaree said. He sighed. “If only Sakyah could have jumpe
d a little better. It would've saved us so much trouble!"
"Never mind Sakyah,” Palimak snapped. “In case you haven't noticed, it's my tender skin you need to start worrying about."
Both Favorites took note of the reefs, now no more than fifty feet away. Huge waves crashed over them, then withdrew to reveal a vast expanse of sharp coral.
"Maybe you should try standing up now, Little Master,” Gundara said.
"That way you'll have a few seconds to get used to the balancing part,” Gundaree added helpfully.
Heart pounding, Palimak gingerly climbed to his feet. The tree-beast swayed in the water, but he managed to steady it, thanking the gods for Arlain's lessons in acrobatics.
"That's very, very good, Little Master,” Gundara said.
"Now, get the turtle out of your pocket,” Gundaree said.
"What am I going to do with that?” Palimak asked, bewildered by this new instruction.
"Well, just as you jump,” Gundara said, “you have to throw it."
"We'll be inside, so don't worry about losing us,” Gundaree added.
Burying his suspicions about this last instruction, Palimak dutifully got the stone turtle out of his pocket. Immediately, the two Favorites disappeared inside the talisman.
The reef loomed up, the storm-driven sea thundering against it. Then hissing like an enormous nest of disturbed snakes as the water retreated, revealing a massive, dripping cliff face studded with spears of coral.
Palimak fought for balance as he was drawn up, up and up. And then a huge wave flung him forward.
He plummeted down the side of the wave, heading directly for the coral reef! Feet skittering on the slippery surface of the tree-beast, outstretched arms wavering, the stone turtle clutched tightly in his right hand.
Then he was rising, surf boiling up to his waist, the reef top coming first to eye level, then higher until he could see a small bay on the other side—edged by a broad, rain-battered beach.
For a brief moment he thought he was going to make it. That the dead tree-beast, with him upon it, would be flung to safety on the other side.
But then he saw jagged rock rushing forward and knew he was going to be slammed against it.