The Verdant Passage

by Denning, Troy

  “We’re in the mountains, not the desert,” Rikus insisted, not quite sure whether the noble had meant his comment as an observation or as an insult. “Besides, I don’t care how much time you spent in the desert. You’re still too soft.”

  “You’re too simple,” Agis countered hotly. “You mistake bullying for leading, and the only way you know to solve a problem is to kill it.”

  Rikus stared at Agis without speaking. There was probably some truth to what the noble said, for he had never been trained to do anything but fight. This realization did little to decrease his desire to grab Agis and pitch him over the cliff.

  “Neither of you should be the leader,” Neeva said, stepping around Sadira.

  “What are you saying? We should follow you?” Rikus asked.

  “Maybe,” Neeva answered. “At least my mind is on Nok and the spear.”

  “When did you get so interested in the spear?” Rikus demanded. “Don’t tell me you’re joining this crazy plot to assassinate Kalak?”

  Neeva met his gaze steadily. “What do you think I’m doing here?”

  Rikus frowned, unable to answer. He had assumed that Neeva was making the journey just because he was. It had not occurred to him that she might have another reason.

  “If you’re not here because you want to kill Kalak, why did you insist on coming along?” Agis asked pointedly.

  The mul motioned to the half-elf. “To protect Sadira,” he said. “She saved my life so I owe her a debt of honor. I must defend her life until that debt is paid.”

  The senator smiled. “In that case, there’s no need for you to continue. I’m perfectly capable of defending the young—”

  “Forget it,” Rikus snapped, glaring at Agis. He had not explained the real reason he was here: he simply wanted to be with Sadira.

  “Why don’t you both turn back?” Neeva asked. “We’ll travel a lot faster if we don’t have to stop and wait while you two fight over Sadira every few miles.”

  “They’re arguing, not fighting,” Sadira noted. “Besides, there’s nothing to fight over. A woman can have feelings for more than one man.”

  Neeva rolled her eyes.

  “Just like Rikus loves both you and me,” Sadira went on. “No one sees us arguing.”

  “We’re not exactly friends,” Neeva replied coldly. “And I wouldn’t say what Rikus feels for me is love.” With that, she looked toward the end of the terrace. “There’s Anezka. If we’re going to reach Nok, we’d better keep up with her. Soon, she’ll grow tired of waiting for us.”

  Rikus gave Neeva an angry glance, but did not say anything. As usual, his fighting partner had cut to the heart of the matter with a few biting comments.

  When he looked forward, he saw Anezka standing at the end of the terrace watching him and the others with a disgusted expression. She turned toward the peak on the right, then stepped over the edge of the terrace and was gone from sight.

  The mul followed and saw that she had stepped onto a small shelf of rock. This ledge was so narrow that, at first glance, it appeared to be nothing more than a dark line crossing the shadowy side of the peak. It ran along the granite face until it disappeared around the far side of the mountain.

  Rikus took a moment to secure his twin-axe to his satchel, then stepped onto the ledge. It was barely wider than his feet and was covered with a layer of loose dirt. Nevertheless, Anezka moved along it as casually as if she were walking down the corridor leading into Tyr’s great stadium. Rikus followed, half expecting the shelf to collapse under his weight.

  To his surprise, he discovered that the ledge itself seemed quite sturdy, but the thick layer of dirt covering it posed a constant threat. Twice in the first few steps, the slick soles of his sandals slipped on the loose ground and nearly plunged him into the dark abyss below. He looked back to warn the person behind him about the treacherous ground, but held his tongue when he saw it was Agis. Even if Rikus had felt like protecting him, he doubted the noble would have taken the advice in a friendly manner.

  Rikus faced the mountain so that he could use both hands to brace himself. Slowly he shuffled across the ledge, kicking the dirt away before he took each step. He had always heard that one shouldn’t look down from a high place, so he tried to keep his eyes turned toward the summit of the peak.

  After a time, he realized this was a terrible mistake. The endless sky overhead filled his mind with images of a bottomless abyss beneath his feet. When he had gone about a quarter of the way across, a picture of his body tumbling into the chasm below flashed through his mind. Every now and then, he saw himself bounce off the craggy wall, his musclebound figure growing smaller every second and the echoes of his terrified scream more distant. Finally his body shrank to a speck and simply disappeared into the dark abyss.

  Rikus ignored the vision as best he could and continued to shuffle along the ledge. Halfway across, the mul pictured not his own brawny form falling into the chasm, but Neeva’s. He saw her bounce offt the cliff once, twice, then silently plunge head-first into the abyss. He shook his head to clear it, then continued forward. To his surprise, he found that the muscles in his knees were quivering.

  When he was most of the way across, Rikus’s lead foot slipped as he placed his weight on it. He let out a short yell, then his fingers caught hold of the rocky handholds and prevented his fall. Rikus’s legs began to tremble. He found himself breathing hard and fast, and his vision was filled with white spots. The mul closed his eyes and held onto his handholds so tightly that his forearms ached.

  Agis crept up beside Rikus. “What’s wrong?” the noble asked. “Do you need help?”

  “No!” he hissed, keeping his eyes closed. “I’m fine. How are Neeva and Sadira?”

  “Better than us, I think,” Agis replied. “They’ve tied themselves together.”

  “What? that’s stupid,” Rikus said, opening his eyes. “If one of them falls, she’ll pull the other off.”

  Agis’s grim face was perspiring with the bitter sweat of fear. Like Rikus, he gripped the rocks so tightly that the veins on his forearms bulged. The noble’s knees were also shaking, though not nearly as badly as the mul’s.

  Although it made him perilously dizzy, Rikus tilted his head back so he could see the two women. They had roped themselves together and were working their way across the ledge in a much calmer fashion than the men. First Neeva moved ahead the length of the rope. Sadira waited behind, watching the other woman intently, prepared to cast a spell that would save them both from falling. When Neeva neared the end of the rope, she found a suitable place to brace herself. As Sadira came along behind, the gladiator took up the rope and remained ready to catch the smaller woman the instant she misstepped.

  “Not a bad idea,” Rikus said approvingly.

  “I wonder if we should try something similar,” Agis replied.

  Rikus glanced over his shoulder at his satchel, then looked between his feet at the darkening depths of the abyss. “You feel like digging your rope out of your bag?”

  Agis also looked down. “I don’t think so.”

  “Me neither,” Rikus replied. “We’ll just have to do the best we can alone.”

  The mul returned to shuffling across the ledge. Soon, Rikus smelled a strange fragrance, an earthy odor he had never known before. It seemed sweet and sour at the same time, with undertones of both perfume and decay. Rikus looked westward. Anezka waited a short distance ahead, where the ledge crossed the corner of the mountan.

  Behind her, a fuzzy silhouette ran the entire length of the ridge. It looked like a roiling, greenish cloud hanging close upon the ground. At certain times, the shapes protruding from it reminded Rikus vaguely of the rare tree he had seen in the Tyr Valley, but he had never seen one writhe and twist as these seemed to be doing.

  As he came closer, Rikus heard the wild cackles and squeals of strange creatures. The wind now carried something the gladiator had never before felt on his skin: a cold mist. The air was heavy with the scent of a
recent rain, and the mul could see now that the strange silhouette running along the top of the ridge was, in fact, the crown of a forest—a forest that seemed to be dancing, but a forest nonetheless.

  The mul could not count the number of times they had crested similar ridges or saddles in the last week. Each time they expected to see the great halfling woodland spread out before them, but discovered only the rocky slopes of an even higher mountain hidden behind the one they had just crossed. Filled with joy and excitement now, Rikus looked back and gave Agis a broad smile. “Were there!” he said, pointing toward the ridge.

  The mul’s foot slipped, unexpectedly shifting half of his weight onto the hand still clinging to the rock face. His fingers peeled away from the handhold. Painfully they scraped along a series of tiny sharp ridges on the rocky face, vainly clutching at each minuscule rib as they passed.

  Rikus toppled backward.

  The cliff fell out of reach as the mul found himself looking straight up into the azure sky. The peak’s distant summit flashed before his eyes. Agis called his name.

  Rikus watched his feet tumble over his head, then the maroon depths of the chasm were rushing up to meet him. Distantly he heard Neeva and Sadira screaming, and even thought he heard a soprano trill from Anezka’s direction. Rikus somersaulted again and glimpsed Agis glowering with intense concentration, pointing one long finger at him.

  It seemed to Rikus that his heart stopped beating. A sick, giddy feeling of terror gorged his stomach, and the sound of his own screaming filled his ears. He wished for the only thing that a man could wish for under such circumstances, to die of fright before his body erupted into a red spray on the boulders far below.

  As the mul tumbled over again, a circle of blackness opened beneath him. He plunged into it. An icy blast knocked the air from his lungs. Passing through the dark tunnel, Rikus had enough time to wonder where the circle had come from. An instant later his body smashed into the ground.

  His breath shot from his lungs, and his body erupted into agony. The mul curled into a fetal position. To his surprise, the pain continued. He felt himself sliding down a steep slope. When he opened his eyes, he saw green ferns and black, rich soil beneath his cheeks.

  A pair of tiny strong hands gripped his shoulders and stopped his descent. Rikus looked up. The soft, familiar features of a small, wild-eyed face greeted him.

  “Anezka?” he gasped, finding to his amazement that he could still breath.

  The halfling scowled, then nodded. Bracing her feet on either side of Rikus’s shoulders, she pulled him into a more or less seated position. The mul gasped at the sight before his eyes.

  The mountains on this side of the range were even steeper than those facing Tyr. Instead of barren yellow-orange rocks, the slopes were covered by a dense forest of indigo-needled conifers. These towering trees looked as though they were performing some primitive, gyrating dance. Their red trunks were segmented by pivoting joints that creaked and groaned as the powerful wind contorted them into an endless succession of shapes.

  There were also smaller trees—at least Rikus assumed them to be trees—with large, white-barked trunks shaped like balls. From the tops of these globes rose sprays of huge fronds covered with heart-shaped leaves.

  Long strings of moss dangled off the boughs of both kinds of trees. From these damson strands sprouted an astounding array of colorful mushrooms, most shaped like bells and as big around as Rikus’s fist. On the ground flourished a puffy, billowing mass of yellow undergrowth.

  In the distance, more than a dozen steep ridges covered with the same profuse vegetation reared up, presenting themselves to Rikus.

  A great cloud covered the base of the mountains like an immense blanket of cotton, glowing rosy pink with the light of the setting sun. This cloud sent tendrils of thick mist creeping into every one of the deep valleys lying between the ridges ahead.

  Rikus barely noticed when Agis stepped up behind him. “Sorry for the rough landing.”

  The mul paid no attention to the apology. “It’s a good thing Anezka came with us,” he said, pointing at the vast forest below. “Without her, we’d never be able to find Nok in all those trees.”

  FOURTEEN

  SINGER

  AGIS WOKE TO A PECULIAR SERENADE OF DULCET chirping, underscored by the gentle patter of a soft rain. Without opening his eyes, the noble rolled over on his bed of groundcloud—the name they had given to the forest’s undergrowth of puffy fungus—and yawned. Languidly he reached out to embrace Sadira. Instead of her soft skin, he touched something plump and warm, covered with coarse bristles. The chirping grew softer and more melodious.

  “Who’s there?” Agis asked. As his grogginess cleared, he remembered that in order to reduce the jealous tension in the group, they had all agreed to sleep alone.

  The noble opened his eyes and, in the pale dawn light, found himself staring at a row of six sapphire eyes. Below the gemlike orbs, a pair of flexible fangs grasped a wad of groundcloud and stuffed it into a hairy mouth. As the creature ate, it rubbed two pairs of shiny forelegs together producing the serenade that had awakened the noble. Four more legs supported the drum-shaped body upon which his hand rested, and a great lemon-colored abdomen hung suspended from its rear quarters.

  Gasping in alarm, Agis jerked his hand away and reached for his sword. The huge spider reacted by scurrying up a silk cord running from it abdomen to a white web overhead. There it remained, dangling upside down and rubbing it forelegs to produce gentle, soothing-tones.

  The noble sat up, carefully watching the singing spider. He was astonished to see that, as he had slept, the creature had woven a solid, tentlike web high overhead, anchoring it to the jointed trunks of four dancing conifers. Although the web rolled and undulated as the wind twisted the trees into different shapes, Agis could not complain about the shelter offered by the spider’s handiwork. Outside his tent fell a steady drizzle, but he remained as dry as if he’d been sleeping beneath the roof of his own mansion.

  There were a dozen similar canopies in the area. Below each, a chirping spider fed on the groundcloud. Sadira, Neeva, and Rikus were each covered by web. Only Anezka lay exposed to the rain, curled into a wet ball and shivering in the cold. Apparently the halfling had fallen asleep during her watch, for she rested on the ground some distance from her bed.

  The spider above Agis chirped tentatively, then reached for the ground with two legs. Chuckling at his instinctive revulsion to the creature, the noble put his sword away. To his surprise, the spider descended on a thick strand of silk and landed at his side. It resumed feeding, chirping in a contented tone that made Agis appreciate just how peaceful the forest morning was. In contrast to the ruddy sunrises of the Tyr Valley, the dawn light here was soft and lush and green, the cruel sun hidden behind a thick morning fog.

  Growing reflective, the noble looked at his dozing companions. Their bodies were tense and restless, as if even in their sleep they were cringing against the lash—or, more likely, dreaming of the day they would kill those who had held them in bondage.

  “What am I doing here, Singer?” Agis asked, assigning a name to the arachnid. He suddenly felt acutely aware of the vast differences that separated him from his fellows. “My ancestors would think me crazy to risk the Asticles estate and name for the sake of slaves.”

  The spider chirped a few playful notes, then moved closer to Agis and rubbed its bristled body against his leg. The noble guessed that the thing wanted him to rub its back, but he could not bring himself to touch it again. He felt slightly chagrined for letting the spider’s appearance put him off, but no matter how friendly the beast was, it remained repugnant.

  Instead he said, “Still, we know what’s right, don’t we? If my ancestors had acted on principle instead of fear, perhaps we wouldn’t need to worry about what Kalak is planning for his games.”

  As Agis spoke, a curtain of moss parted on the other side of camp. A pair of halflings slipped into view and silently crept toward a nea
rby spider tent, their footsteps muffled by the patter of morning rain. They resembled Anezka in size and appearance, save that they were both male and clothed only in shaggy breechcloths. The rain washed the filth from their bodies in long streaks of black mud. In their hands they gripped flint-tipped spears, and on their belts hung short daggers of sharpened bone.

  The noble was about to wake his friends when the two halflings gently laid their spears aside and rushed the spider they had been sneaking toward. They did not snap a branch or create any sound that Agis could hear, and even their target seemed unaware of their presence.

  Grabbing his sword, the noble crawled toward the exit of his tent. Singer scuttled around to face the direction he was going. It chirped what seemed an inquisitive tone and followed, but neither it not any of its kin paid any attention to the halflings’ presence. Agis paused, wondering why the spider at his side did not seem alarmed. Either it could not see that far, or its kind was some sort of halfling pet or herd animal.

  An instant later, he had his answer. The halflings’ target whirled around to meet its attackers. The spider’s chirping changed to a single screech of alarm, then it fell silent and frantically tried to climb into its web. Simultaneously, Singer and all the other spiders scrambled into their webs, continuing to chirp in agitation.

  The halflings’ prey was not fast enough to reach its web before the two hunters tackled it. As the little men wrestled their prey to the ground, Agis stepped into the cold rain and called, “What are you doing?”

  The halflings, who had both drawn their bone daggers, looked toward Agis. The noble motioned toward his shoulder satchel. “If you’re hungry, we have food enough to share.”

  Though Agis spoke in a congenial tone, the halflings obviously took the stranger’s words as a threat and rushed out the back side of their quarry’s tent. They disappeared into the forest as silently and as quickly as they had come, leaving their spears behind.

  Behind Agis, Rikus cursed, then Neeva cried, “Get away, you hairy brute!”