Spies Among Us

by L. L. Bower

  The frost giant must be whacking down bats that hover over us, judging from the sickening squeals, the whooshes of air, and the thuds as bat bodies tumble to the hard stone floor. An unconscious bat falls on top of me, which knocks me to the ground. I push him off me and notice he smells like fungus and burnt oranges. Yuck!

  I get up to run. The floor is now strewn with bat carcasses, so I trip and fall again. I feel a giant-size hand seize my elbow and hoist me up. Geryen then tosses me over his shoulder and ducks down again. We hurry away from the demonic mass as the bones of other fallen bats crunch under his feet.

  I feel sharps pain in my back, like needles being injected, and feel blasts of airflow against my neck, as I hang from Geryen’s back.

  “One’s got me, Geryen. Put me down.”

  He stops, pulls me from his back with my bat attacker still attached, and sets me on the ground. Then he walks forward to continue battling the chiropters, freezing the ones in front.

  I reach around behind and latch onto what I think is a bat wing. Twisting around, I pull on the wing, but the creature has too strong a hold on me. I can’t loosen its grip.

  Drawing Noblesse, I stretch its wing out with one hand and slash at it with the blade, careful of my hand. A severed piece of wing comes loose. The bat squeaks frantically and lets go. The pain subsides.

  Judging from the shadows over our heads and the volume of clicks, squeaks and wing-scraping, most of the bats are still right on top of Geryen and me. Their numbers are so great that his efforts have only slowed their surge slightly. He speeds up his chilly exhales but has to bend over as the frozen mass of bats accumulates overhead.

  From the sounds around me and their shadows, the bats avoid the clogged ceiling and now scurry down both sides of the tunnel walls instead.

  I shout to the others over the bat din, although I’m not sure they hear me. “Run on ahead! I’ll keep them busy.”

  Geryen asserts, “You need my help.”

  “Thanks, Geryen, but I need to able to swing my sword freely. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “Don’t worry, giant skin is tough.” He grunts as he knocks down another bat from the wall and blows on others. He’s right. I do need his help. I feel more air currents around me and hear more thumps and squawks.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watch the faint shadows of my fellow escapees speed away from us toward a more lighted section of cave. At least we’ve had some success. The others are able to get away.

  I swing wildly with Noblesse, but she doesn’t seem to connect with any bats.

  Above me, Geryen cries out in pain, I hope from a bat and not from a brush with my sword. From the dim shadows on the tunnel wall, I watch him peel a bat off his back and punch it in the face with lethal force.

  Letting Geryen know I’m moving in front of him so I don’t get cold-blasted, I hurry down the tunnel toward the crowd of bats. Using both hands, I swing Noblesse, right and left, right and left. She cuts through the bats’ tough hides like pudding, and warm iron-scented bat blood splatters my face. I punt the carcasses to the sides of the cave.

  How will Geryen and I get these creatures to retreat? I could stop to initiate sunlight, hopefully blinding them. I close my eyes and imagine sunlight infiltrating this dark cave. When I open them, still swinging my sword, nothing’s happened. I don’t know why my powers aren’t working.

  After a few minutes of fighting, the clicking, brushing and squeaking sounds diminish. I continue to sword swipe madly at the air over my head, but Noblesse is no longer connecting with our enemies. Her vibrations slow and then stop. Mission accomplished. The bats have retreated.

  I wipe both sides of my sword against the stack of fallen bat bodies in front of me and stow her in my belt.

  Geryen picks me up with one arm and stuffs me in his armpit like a football.

  Surprised, I say, “I can walk, you know.”

  “It’s faster this way,” he mumbles.

  He carries me over the battle area that must be littered with bat bodies because I feel his weight shift from one leg to the other as he kicks out in both directions, clearing our path. I also hear the noisy cracks of more bones breaking as he steps on corpses still in our way.

  I feel disoriented as I bounce along under Geryen’s arm in this duskiness, the only sounds my labored breathing and the giant’s grunts, and I close my eyes. I’m reminded of a dark amusement park ride when, as a kid, my body wasn’t able to adjust to the side-to-side jerking. My mouth fills with saliva, and I swallow hard.

  Geryen stumbles over the uneven floor, causing my heart to skip a beat. I know he can’t go any faster without risking serious injury, and I don’t want him to. I hope the bats don’t catch up.

  But they do. Their clicks and squeaks are coming closer again. I’m desperate and revisit the idea of conjuring sunlight, seeing no other alternative.

  I should be able to initiate a bright hot sun in these caves with the Creator’s help, even if I can’t solicit weather. I close my eyes and again think of the sun flowing through me and invading the caves, whispering, “By the power of the Creator.”

  All of a sudden, the cave is as bright as a summer’s day and as warm as a fireplace. After the enveloping dimness, I’m blinded at first. Geryen stops and shields his eyes. It takes a few moments for us to see clearly.

  The giant then sets me down. As I look back, the bats recoil like they’ve encountered something venomous. They skitter away like frightened bugs, their spooky shadows on the walls a lengthened parody of their retreat.

  “Did you do that?” Geryen asks.

  “With the Creator’s help.”

  Geryen pats me on the head. “That’s some trick.”

  “I tried to conjure sunlight earlier, but it didn’t work because I forgot my powers come from the Creator.”

  Because it’s so bright now in the cave, we’re able to run full tilt. I struggle to keep up with the giant, whose stride is much longer but who’s slowed by having to duck as he runs. We overtake Claymont, who trails behind the others and looks spent.

  While I huff and puff, Geryen isn’t even out of breath. He says to Claymont, “Let me carry Simean for a while.”

  “Thanks, I’m not as strong as I used to be.”

  With his two enormous hands, Geryen lifts a sleeping Simean, still wrapped in his ratty blanket, off Claymont and hoists him onto his shoulder. Simean is dwarfed by Geryen’s massive body, like a beetle riding a cat.

  Claymont stares at me. “You’re a mess.”

  “Really?” I look down at my soiled and shredded clothing, now blood splattered. “I’ve been in prison, you know.” I grin.

  “Yes, but now you’re covered in blood. Here, let me help.” Claymont rips a piece out of his shirttail and hands it to me. “You should wipe the blood off your face at least, although it does make you look intimidating.”

  “Thanks.”

  When I’ve finished rubbing my face, Claymont adds, “Now you won’t frighten the others.”

  We hurry on ahead, our shadows cavorting alongside, and I’m so glad we have light. Between the unevenness of the floor and the hairpin turns, we’d have fallen or slammed into the walls without illumination. I wonder how the others managed this section without light.

  We soon catch up to everyone else, and Baru answers my wondering. “I had to use my blue light back there, so we didn’t fall.”

  Because we no longer need the unnatural light I’ve initiated, it fades behind us as the light ahead of us gets brighter. The sound of dripping water seems louder, and I’m sure we’re getting close to the exit.

  I look back. No sign of bats, and my shadow on the cave wall is indistinct again.

  “Keep your eyes open. No doubt more guards are ahead.” I wonder again why we don’t already have an army of guards trying to stop us.

  The tunnel opens into a large chamber where Geryen doesn’t have to duck. Light streams in from overhead, and I realize this is not an exit, but rather a good-
sized opening in the roof to ground level, I’d guess from a cave-in. Rock rubble still litters the floor here, as well as a myriad of leaves and branches that have blown in from above.

  Our feet make crunching sounds as we walk over the debris, and water drips through the roof’s opening. The sounds of birds and the subtle odor of pine and Douglas fir also waft in from the opening and lift my spirits. Stalactites hang from the ceiling.

  Geryen readjusts Simean’s weight and hefts him higher up on his shoulder. “I can lift you all up and through that opening,” he says, “one at a time.”

  “But how will you get out?” I ask.

  “I’ll find another way.”

  “No,” Claymont pipes up, “we’re all in this together.”

  The others nod.

  I rub my beard. “And anyway, dragons may wait at the surface to attack the minute we emerge.”

  Even though Loudon reassured me that at least some of the dragons are on our side, I’m not convinced. And, even if they are on our side, they still have to guard the prison, so Galdo doesn’t get suspicious.

  We trudge across the chamber and out the other side, with Geryen and Simean trailing. The cave tunnel narrows again. But this time, we have ambient light from small holes in the roof above us. Here the walls are rough, like the surface of a pan of brownies. Boy, wouldn’t a brownie taste good right now.

  My brief reverie is interrupted by what sounds like a gong being struck multiple times. The sounds reverberate throughout the tunnel.

  “They’ve discovered our escape.” Baru states the obvious.

  “I’m surprised our exit wasn’t discovered long ago.”

  We run as fast as we dare over the uneven cave floor as the light from overhead fades. Before long, we’re in near darkness again, but sunlight trickles in from a jagged opening a short distance ahead. As we get closer, the opening appears to be covered by brush. We hear what sounds like thunder outside the opening, and I briefly wonder if a storm is brewing.

  “Wait.” I slow then stop, my breathing heavy. “We don’t know what’s beyond.... Since I’m the only one who can’t be killed,... I’ll go out first.”

  I work my way past the others to slash at the brush with my sword. I could part the branches and peer out, but I’m not willing to expose my head for a dragon to acidify. I may not be able to be killed by the acid, but I don’t want to find out how much it hurts.

  After a few hacks, the opening reveals a broad clearing and a dense forest beyond. I’m surprised. I’d have guessed we were in a sparser area of trees. I cut away more of the brush until a wide area is revealed in front of me.

  I press my face against the opening and turn my head from side to side. A black dragon dozes on a rock to my left. The dragon’s snoring is what I mistook for thunder, and deadly black drool trickles out of the side of its mouth. Its eyelids flutter like it’s dreaming.

  Behind us at a distance are the echoing sounds of running feet and batches of shouting. I decide I’d rather take my chances with the dragon than a bunch of minotaurs or ogres.

  “A black dragon stands in our way,” I whisper to the others. “I’ll keep him occupied, and you all run into the woods.”

  I crawl out of the cave through the crack and prepare to face the dragon. I assume the others are making their way out too. Though we’re being quiet, the dragon stirs and lifts its head to look at us. When it stands, I yell, “Run!”

  I pull out my sword, and my fellow escapees take off for the forest.

  But then the dragon does a strange thing.

  It appears to smile, showing its razor-sharp teeth. Or is it grimacing and thinking, “Ah, my next meal?”

  What the dragon does next, however, shocks me to my core.

  Imperceptibly, it bows its head.

  I dip my head in return.

  Then it speaks, its voice barely above a whisper. “Nice to meet Sir Calen.” The dragon puts a claw on its chest and adds, “Maldina, daughter of Reardon. Jade tell I, you good champion.”

  I’m shocked that Maldina speaks English, albeit broken English. I thought most dragons were dark and, therefore, had no interest in learning my language. And did she say, “Jade?”

  Maldina towers over me and then lowers her head. She whispers, “I fake attack. Ready sword.”

  “Fake?”

  “Trust,” she murmurs. Then she roars, causing the ground to vibrate. I try unsuccessfully not to tremble.

  I raise Noblesse to fight.

  The dragon drops her head. “I spit, you act hurt. Sword under wing, but no hurt.”

  I whisper back, “But there won’t be any blood. Won’t Galdo’s troops know it’s phony?”

  “Will be blood. Pretense I wound you.”

  I think she means “pretend,” but I’m smart enough not to correct a dragon’s grammar. With her head still down, Maldina spits black goo to one side of me.

  I jump back, like a cat on hot bricks. “Yow!” I yell and brush at my shoulder, pretending to get the black stuff off.

  I thrust my sword at Maldina, slipping the weapon alongside her ribs and under her wing, as if I’ve thrust Noblesse deep into her torso. To foster the illusion, Maldina lets out an anguished cry and cranes her neck like she’s going to bite me. I hop further back.

  Instead of taking a chunk out of me, she buries her head under her wing, like she’s checking out the fake wound, and instead nips her own ribs with her great jaws.

  A wound erupts, not big enough to kill her but big enough to look like an actual sword gash. Maldina groans and yells “Ayyyyyyyy!!!

  Her cry sounds like a booming waterfall, and black blood drips from her side. She puts a wing over the wound, lifts her head, slumps down, collapses on the ground, shudders and then gives me a slight wink. She trembles one more time before she lies still. Amused by her overly dramatic fake death, I tighten my jaw to keep from smiling. Who knows, maybe all dragons are cheesy actors.

  I hold my shoulder as if it’s been hit with black goo and turn toward the caves we just escaped, expecting to see guards emerge from the crack in the rock at any moment. Noblesse is poised for a fight.

  Instead of guards, Geryen lies stuck in our exit, while everyone else has vanished into the forest. Someone else must be carrying Simean because there’s no sign of him. Too intent on fighting the dragon, I didn’t notice the giant hadn’t escaped with the others. His head and shoulders poke out of the ground, but his belly is wedged.

  “A little help, please,” he calls. “If you’re not too badly injured.”

  I walk close, stow Noblesse in my waistband and whisper, “I’m not injured at all. It was all an act.”

  He grins. “Well, you had me fooled.”

  “We’ve got to hurry. Suck in your gut. I’ll pull and you push.”

  Geryen takes a deep breath, draws up his chest, places his hands on the ground and pushes forward, grunting like a pig. I pull on his upper arms, but he doesn’t budge, not even an inch.

  I let go of him and look around. What can I use to free him?

  Under some bushes, I notice pitcher plants that I recognize from a college botany class. But such plants grow only in tropical areas in my world, not in the forest. These Fairyland versions, visible only to those with “fairy” sight, are thriving, much larger than the photos I saw, big enough to catch rodents and lizards.

  “Wait here!” I order foolishly, as if Geryen is going anywhere. “I have an idea.”

  Pitcher plants are carnivorous. In the human world, they use slippery nectar to cause their prey to fall down the sides of their “pitchers” and drown in the bowl formed by their leaves. This liquid also contains enzymes that help digest their prey. I’m hoping the Fairyland variety uses the same strategies.

  I scurry around and find a large water bowl next to the dragon, who still plays dead. I dump out the water and dip the bowl into the center of one of these plants. After making repeated trips from the plants to the giant to hurriedly pour bowlfuls of nectar on Geryen’s bac
k and sides, I pull on him again.

  With the tugging on my part and the pushing on his part, I feel his body move. After some more sweaty work, he slips out of the exit, and we take off running.

  Geryen strides ahead of me as we race to catch up to our fellow escapees. I’m surprised we don’t see more dragons or guards. Could we have emerged from a little-known back exit that isn’t well-guarded?

  Before we enter the thick grove of trees, the rush of dragon wings overhead makes me look up. A green dragon glares at us. Ah, finally, here comes another guard.

  “You go on, Geryen.” Even though my heart pounds, I wave him on ahead and draw Noblesse. “I can take care of this.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’ll be fine, by the power of the Creator.”

  Geryen runs off.

  The dragon lands in the clearing next to me. I brandish Noblesse. Then with the blade in front, I lunge at the dragon.

  The dragon lowers its neck and bites down on Noblesse. Then it wrests my sword from my hand and throws it to the ground.

  I’m defenseless.

  In my head, the dragon asks, “Don’t you recognize me, Father?”

  Many weeks ago, Crisa made it possible for me to hear this particular dragon’s thoughts.

  “It’s good to see you, Jade. I didn’t recognize you because you’ve gotten so big.”

  Jade drops her head low, and even though guards might overtake us at any moment, I wrap my arms around her neck. She rests her head gently on my shoulder.

  I rub her ears, like I did when she was a baby, although they’re not velvety anymore. “I’ve missed you, my little one. But you’re no longer my little one. You’ve grown into a beautiful dragon.” I sigh. “I wish I’d been there to see it.” I let her go and hang my head.

  “That couldn’t be helped, and Grog’s been a fine teacher.” She lifts her head. “Is that dried blood on your shirt?”

  I brush at the stains. “We, the other escapees and I, encountered huge bats while we were escaping, but a frost giant, Noblesse, and I made short work of them.”