I reached the pit and stood warming my hands, grateful for the heat. The crackling fire seemed almost homey to me; a picture of Andrew and Mirdath's hearth drifted through my mind, and I sighed in a mixture of longing and contentment. After a moment, I turned my eyes to my surroundings. On the rock wall, my shadow danced with the rising and falling of the flames, fluctuating from the shape of a giant to the squat body of a dwarf. When I glanced at the floor, I noticed that the ground on the far side of the hollow was covered in an unusual, yellow-tinged sand rather than bare stone. The fire’s glare kept me from seeing it clearly, so I circled the pit to examine it more carefully, having no fear or thought of any sort of danger.
When I reached the other side I discovered a curious, shiny substance spread across the sand. I came closer. As I stooped to examine it, it moved.
I leapt away, diskos raised. Hearing the sand stirring at my back, I glanced quickly behind me. The sand writhed, rising and falling; serpentine forms shivered and curled beneath its surface.
As I hesitated, uncertain which way to go, the ground beneath me heaved, buckling upward, nearly knocking me from my feet. The whole surface of the fire-pit was in motion; I suddenly realized I was surrounded. Animal instinct took over, and I sprinted across the shifting sand to the edge of the hollow. The sides at that point were too steep to climb, so I turned, my back to the wall, diskos ready, not knowing what new terror I was about to face.
Slowly, ponderously, a Yellow Beast, like a living hill, lifted itself off the ground, sending sand sifting downward. It had a segmented body made up of three sections, the back two rounded like those of an ant, the front elongated, giving the impression of a broad, blockish chest. Its face was like that of a horse, but with wide jaws and the heavy tusks of a boar. As it rose, it unfurled dozens of clawed tentacles. It gathered its multiple arms to itself, and stretched three of its members toward me.
I swung the diskos with all my might, severing two of the tentacles. The third instinctively withdrew, but I stepped forward and lopped it off, leaving the stump wriggling on the sand. The creature gave an eerie, high-pitched shriek, a cross between the buzzing of an insect and the scream of a child. This was not the end, however, for it charged at me with ferocious speed belying its great size, using its tentacles like the legs of a spider.
I leapt back and retreated along the edge of the fire-pit, trying to avoid the claws. Four times I dodged it, but the monster was far faster than I. It caught my heel, causing me to stumble. I grasped the rock side with one hand, barely keeping my balance, but by then several claws had seized me. The creature was unbelievably powerful; I could not break its hold. One of its members held my diskos arm, keeping me from using my weapon.
In desperation, I reversed my course and charged straight at the beast. It had bent all its efforts toward pulling me toward it and was unprepared for my change of course. Its claws slipped from me. As I drew close, it tried to reach me with its gaping, yellow mouth. I ducked; its gnashing jaws closed a fraction of an inch from my head, and then I was under its heavy body and arching legs.
Its whole form was covered with huge, spiny hairs so sharp they would have cut me to pieces if not for my metal plating. Poison oozed from the spines in huge, shiny drops, venom so lethal its stench burned my nose and throat. It fell dripping and hissing onto my armor. The creature heaved itself to the side, trying to bring its legs around to grasp me, but I thrust upward with my diskos. The blade spun, roaring in its thirst for death, sending out a wheel of golden fire beneath the yellow body of the beast. It cut through the creature's abdomen, spilling pus and entrails on the ground.
The monster screamed and leapt back, knocking me away. I was half-blinded by blood and muck, and before I could see again, it darted in and seized me with two of its claws, pinning my weapon hand to my side and bending me over as if to break my back. I felt my armor straining; I nearly fainted from the pain. With a desperate effort I reached across my body, seized my diskos with my left hand and struck at the tentacles. It was a weak blow, but the weapon did most of the work.
The Yellow Beast threw me across the hollow. I landed at the edge of the fire and tottered precariously, the bubbling, roaring pit gaping before me, the heat of its flames singeing my brow. With a savage wrench, I pulled myself back from destruction.
When I turned, I found that my blow to the monster’s body had finally taken its toll. It had collapsed, its legs crumpled beneath it, its body churning up the sand in its death throes. This was fortunate, for my own strength was gone, and I could not have withstood another attack. I fell to my knees, helpless, my breath coming in gasps.
Eventually, I recovered enough to examine myself. I was bruised all over, but otherwise unwounded. A sharp, hairy claw gripped my right ankle, but my armor had protected me from its sting. I kicked it into the fire with my other foot.
Though the Yellow Beast no longer moved, I still dared not approach it, so I retreated to the far side of the hollow. After regaining my composure, I decided I would never be able to rest until I washed the monster's taint from me.
My whole body aching, I climbed out of the hollow, back into the night, to search for one of the hot springs I had passed. I soon found another hollow containing three small fires with a steaming puddle bubbling beyond the third.
Before entering the hollow I walked all along its topmost edge, looking for danger. Seeing none, I made a spiraling descent, examining the ground from every angle to avoid encountering another spider-beast. Just as I was about to strip off my armor so I could wash, a small serpent struck at my foot. I jumped back, startled. My nerves already frayed, I darted back in with my diskos, killing the snake in a blind fury. For some reason, the thought of dying at its fangs after surviving the spider-beast infuriated me. I checked my foot, but my armor had protected me once more. Still, I no longer dared remove my clothes.
Finally, I tested the water temperature, and finding it bearable, laid my scrip, pouch, cloak, and diskos at the edge of the pool.
Feeling I had taken every precaution, I stepped daintily into the puddle and immediately plunged several feet into what proved to be a deep well. The hot, sulphurous water covered my head, burning my eyes and stinging my nose. Choking, I thrashed my way back to the surface, half in panic, half afraid of being seized by an inhabitant of the pool.
I clambered onto firm ground, and scooted back from the water in case I had awakened a lurking beast. For a few moments I watched, diskos ready, my wet body trembling in the chill air.
When nothing appeared, I began to laugh—softly, so as not to arouse danger—but deeply, nonetheless. After so many precautions I had overlooked such a simple thing. I could have drowned! If any ever read this account, they will probably think me foolish. So be it! I wonder if they could have done as well in such darkness and danger? But I laughed until my bruised sides ached. Better that than weeping.
Eventually I noticed the sulphur had washed the muck from my armor, to say nothing of my face and hands. Neither had the chemicals burned me. I returned to the pool and scrubbed first my diskos, then my cloak, scrip, and pouch.
By the time I finished, my teeth were chattering from the cold. Knowing I had to get warm immediately or risk becoming ill, I approached the nearest of the three fire-holes, only to find it guarded by a score of small serpents. When the other flames proved the same, I took my belongings and returned to the hollow of the Yellow Beast. With its guardian destroyed, I doubted that anything remained to harm me. I sat before the fire on the side opposite the carcass, watching the steam rise from my armor and cloak as the heat dried them.
Afterward, knowing I would find nowhere as safe as that hollow, I resolved to put my disgust in my pocket, as the saying goes, and sleep there. I ate and drank, and after examining the monster carefully to insure it was dead, made a comfortable bed in the sand with my cloak wrapped around me and my diskos cradled to my chest.
Before I fell asleep, I glanced around, and for the first time perceived that
the depth of the hollow and the distance from the Great Pyramid blocked my home from sight. This affected me more deeply than I would have suspected, making the night seem abysmally forlorn. I laid my head back on the pouch that served as my pillow and turned my thoughts toward Naani, but that only made me anxious for her safety. I tried thinking about horses again, but visions of the Yellow Beast kept lumbering through my mind.
Finally, I fell asleep pondering the Insoluble Conundrum, an equation for which there was said to be no solution. In my student days in the pyramid I used to spend hours brooding on it. Numbers rose and fell in my mind, and as my thoughts grew more hazy it seemed if I could but solve the Conundrum, it would show me the way to Naani.
VIII
NIGHT HOUNDS
I awoke seven hours later, my muscles so sore and uncomfortable from my battle that I could scarcely rise. Despair had overtaken me while I slept, for I had dreamt of the sunlit lands, and the dreams only served to remind me that I slept in darkness, woke to darkness, that darkness covered the whole world. I began to feel the strain of my isolation; I wondered how it would affect my mind.
I drew a ragged breath and stood, which made me wince in pain. I forced myself to exercise until I grew more limber, then ate breakfast and shuffled into the dark.
I encountered nothing dangerous until the second third of the day's journey, when two shining men, seemingly made of pale mist, appeared far to my right. Though their bodies scarcely seemed to move, they advanced rapidly across the countryside, figures easily forty feet tall, but without thickness, like paintings passing through the night.
I hid in the bushes and watched them go by about two hundred yards from my position, quiet as vapor and no more substantial. They came out of the north and soon vanished into the darkness of the south. If they saw me they showed no sign. I did not know whether they were good or evil, but I recognized them as the Mist Men mentioned in the ancient Records. During my time in the Tower of Observation, I had sometimes glimpsed such vaporous beings, though always too far away to be clearly seen. Now, as I watched them passing, it occurred to me that perhaps these were the visible shapes of some of the Forces abroad in the land. But this was only idle speculation.
A wave of melancholy passed through me; if I was witnessing phenomenon my people considered fables, I must be far from home, indeed.
That day, I passed seven large fire-pits and two small ones. I always approached them carefully, for living things often dwelled around them, such as the enormous man sitting before the flames of the sixth fire-hole, his knees drawn up to his chin. He had a long nose, bent downward as in the illustrations of goblins. His huge eyes darted back and forth, reflecting the firelight, the whites appearing and vanishing. Despite his human features, he was not really a man, and his bestial odor filled the hollow. I slipped quietly away, looking always over my shoulder.
At the eighteenth hour, I began searching for a safe place to sleep. Since many of the fire-holes were inhabited, I decided to avoid them, so I lay down among the moss bushes, but slept only fitfully in the bitter cold. I woke several hours later, stiff and shivering, and had to beat my hands together and stride back and forth to restore circulation to my limbs.
I soon reached the northwest border of the Plain Of Blue Fire. The Plain, which I kept to my right, was not a proper flame, but a cold, blue glow, eerie and dreadful, floating just above the ground. In its dismal illumination, the nearby moss bushes looked black and twisted. Despite its seeming transparency, it blocked everything behind it, including the Great Pyramid. My people could no longer see me. A loneliness, worse than before, fell on my soul.
From the time I drew abreast of the Plain Of Blue Fire, I crawled on my hands and knees. My journey took me quite close to it, and though I could see nothing within its blue folds, I heard peculiar voices calling to one another across its breadth, as if spirits wandered blindly within it, vainly seeking one another throughout eternity.
For three days I crept beside it, keeping as much distance as possible—usually about two miles—for I felt it must be linked either to Evil Forces or unknown monsters. Though I had to crawl, I kept a good, steady pace, sometimes feeling like a machine plodding through the darkness, sometimes like a beast of burden placing one foot in front of the other. At the eighteenth hour of each journey I slept, the first time beneath a thick bush, the second upon a high ledge of a lone rock protruding among the vegetation. No harm came to me, except from the cold, but the blind shining of the Plain prevented me from catching even a glimpse of the Last Redoubt.
During this time I realized how remiss I had been in not keeping a record of the details of my journey, so at the end of each trek I started sketching maps and writing a few short lines in the back of Ayleos' Mathematics.
I passed thirteen fire-holes and ten fire-pits, but saw no living thing in any except one inhabited by creatures similar to scorpions, only more squat and thick. They were as large as my head—miserable bed mates for any man.
In the sixteenth hour of the third day's journey I passed beyond the Plain Of Blue Fire and spied the Great Pyramid again, looking quite small far behind me and to my right. Only my caution kept me from cheering at the sight of it. I did, in that moment of weakness, break my promise not to signal to my people, and in a bare place between the weeds I held up my diskos in salute. Shortly thereafter, I felt a disturbance of the ether and knew someone in the Tower of Observation had glimpsed me and sent word through the Hour Slips to the inhabitants.
I pictured the millions rushing to the embrasures, flushing with disappointment when they could not see me; only the Great Spyglass could focus so far. But how sweet it was to sense their prayers and good will surrounding me, wrapping me in love and concern. I wondered if Cartesius had been the one to first see me.
Even though I relished their regard, it was foolish to have signaled to them, for their combined attention might attract the notice of an Evil Force, of which I most feared the House of Silence now looming in the distance. Realizing my error, I turned and hurried away. The stirring soon ceased.
Close to the eighteenth hour, hearing the sound of falling water, I discovered a hot fountain boiling out of the rocks in a column thick as my body. A stream flowed from it, plainly visible by the flickering light of the numerous surrounding fire-holes. A trail of steam hung above it, colored crimson by the firelight, a rather pretty sight amid the bleakness. I followed its winding way through the moss bushes, testing the water temperature as I went until I reached a point where it had cooled enough to touch without burning my hand. Sitting on a small boulder, I took off my boots and bathed my aching feet in the warmth. Such comforts were hard to find in that harsh land, and I sighed in gratitude. Then, with the air of one contemplating a stay in the best room of the One Thousandth City, I considered how nice it would be to find a place among the moss bushes to retire for dinner and slumber.
No sooner did I think this, when I heard the distant baying of a Night Hound, rising northwest of the Plain Of Blue Fire. Though I still sat beside the smoking river, I no longer felt its warmth. An icy fear spread over me.
"Is it me it's after?" I whispered, my voice hoarse from disuse.
Still I remained, unmoving, listening, my feet yet in the stream. Out of the night the howling came again, from what seemed less than a mile off. And with a dead certainty, I knew the brute was tracking me.
It is difficult to describe my sense of helplessness, for where, in all that country, could I hide from an animal large as a horse, with the jaws and nose of a hound?
I scrambled to get my boots back on, and though I fumbled in my fear, was soon up, diskos in hand, my gear upon me. Though I tried to think, no plan would come, and I turned in a rapid circle, muttering, unable to decide anything. Then I forced the panic down, forced myself to concentrate.
An idea came to me, and I immediately ran down the middle of the stream, which was about ankle-deep. Before I had gone far I heard the hound baying again, even closer.
I thrashed furiously through the water for more than a minute, until the moment when I thought the beast must have reached the place where I had entered the stream. I slowed to a quick walk, going as silently as possible to keep it from hearing me.
As I glanced from side to side, I imagined seeing a Night Hound in every shadow, but at last I heard it again, baying a short distance away. I sank down into the knee-deep water and turned on my stomach, letting the stream cover me. With only the top of my head and my eyes exposed, I watched until I saw the hound approach. The steam made its shape hazy, but I could still see it, a black, monstrous form, powerful as a stallion.
I did not watch as it streaked past me at a lumbering gallop, for I ducked my head below the surface and held it there until my lungs were fit to burst. And when I raised up again, I struggled to breath as softly as possible. I could not see the Night Hound, but I heard it whining among the moss bushes, tearing them under its paws as it darted back and forth.
A silence soon fell, but I dared not move. If the water had been cold, I would have frozen to death. The moments passed; I listened to my heart pounding against my armor. The steam rose upward, vanishing into the black sky.
Just when I thought the hound had gone, when I was about to stand up, I heard it running toward me again. It passed so swiftly I had no time to duck, but instinctively froze where I lay. It tore the ground and bushes in its passing—clods of earth and stone splashed into the stream.
Then it was gone, and I heard it baying farther and farther away, its cries growing ever more dim.
I rose, determined to put some distance between myself and the beast. I kept to the stream. Whenever I stopped to listen, I could hear it baying, far away.
The Night Land, a Story Retold Page 12