The Other of One: Book Two

by Brian G. Burke

  With a smirk fostered from hateful irony, she added, deeply upsetting herself, “Have mercy on God, you say? How can Drevol Briggun hold such a truce when he is, in his own right, Lucifer himself. I mean, look at this magical kingdom around us, Khrum. Oppressed by his evil, whilst being kept in all its bounty for us to covet. Giving us lost hope. Never can we celebrate it, with him denying its ultimate salvation. What else would you dub this villain?”

  Khrum withdrew from adding anything further. Wren knew she wasn’t all that far from the truth, so did the others.

  “You know, Wren,” William offered, “you could always wait outside with Crosco until we find a way into the city. I mean, it’s safe to say we won’t be staying here tonight, after seeing all this. We won’t be long, if you want to wait.”

  She wiped her eye with a snuffle, and replied, “No, I’ll be grand. Just gives me all the more incentive to find that pig and tear his miserable head off!”

  In a droller note, she amended, “Or else I could…um….just rip the heads off his followers instead, while you go and rip Drevol’s head off for all of us, William.”

  “Or I could try rippin’ his nose off ‘n’—” Khrum was about to contribute, when William barged in, “Maybe we’ll just leave all body parts intact for the time being, how does that sound?” he smirked, disinclined to regard such trying acts unless he absolutely needed to.

  Wren grinned at him and said, “Everything all right there, Williameen? You know, you could always wait outside with Crosco until we find a way into that city. We won’t be long.”

  Glaring back at her in a shifty way, he muttered in a jest, “Shuddup,” before going back about his business, and this made her chuckle.

  Then, on a more serious note, she asked, “What do you make of all this, William? Do you suppose God knows of it? Is He offended by it? Could He forgive those responsible? Am I being too rash?” to which he extended no reply. It wasn’t a subject he cared for much.

  He then shone his torch up to the ceiling and saw an opening. There was another level, but no stairs.

  Icrick came wandering around the corner with even more grubs and spiders in his arms and he was, as you might expect, chewing away on something ghastly.

  “Stell?” he beckoned, just then spotting the others in the next room. “Oh, didn’t see you lot there. Have you seen Stell anywhere?”

  Shrugging, and flicking a caterpillar off her sleeve, Wren replied, “Nope. Thought he was with you.”

  Suddenly, with a groaning wail, the Elf hobbled around the corner after being out the back, and he looked as sick as a man after an eight-hour whisky binge.

  Holding his stomach, he moaned, “I’m here, I’m here…what is the matter?”

  “There you are!” the Grogoch said with an unwary grin. “I was looking all over for you!”

  Shoving a spindly cricket into Stell’s face, he then said, “Here you go! If you bite into the head, you get a real zesty taste.”

  His pallor delving into an even pastier tone, the Elf belched and said, “Excuse me for a moment, won’t you?”

  His cheeks ballooned and he tottered back out the way he came. Seconds later they heard a stifled upsurge of spluttering and spitting.

  “Oh, dear. What’s the matter with him?” asked the Grogoch.

  “I don’t think the insects are agreeing with him just now, Icrick,” Wren said. “Best leave him be, eh?”

  “Well, why didn’t he just say that?” Icrick tutted, shaking his head. “Oh, where are my manners? Would you like this cricket, Wren? It’s the last one I could find, and they really are tremendously scrummy.”

  “NO!” she found herself barking, giving the Grogoch a frightful start. “Sorry, Icrick, I didn’t mean to shout. But, no…thanks. I’ll do without, if it’s all the same to you. It’s your last cricket and all. I’d only feel bad taking it. But…um…maybe William might be so bold?”

  Detaining an artful chuckle from the girl, William turned to Icrick and said, “Oh, t-t-thanks, Icrick! I’ll…er…save it for later. Yeah. I’ll definitely eat it later on, when we’re resting. I’ll enjoy it better then, when we’re not on the move and that.”

  William stowed it carefully away in his sporran…for ‘safe keeping,’ naturally. But not before throwing a prickly glance at the girl.

  “Just a jiffy,” the Grogoch said then, finding yet another cricket. “Well, would you look at that. Another two. How strange! This particular breed only ever travel by the dozen, in any one place at any one time. I must’ve miscounted. Oh, well, that’s definitely the last of them now.”

  The furry fellow gulped one of them down, and then he got to thinking. He was fairly stuffed after all.

  So, handing Wren the cricket, he spoke gently, “Couldn’t eat another bite, dear Wren. Please, take this one. I insist. They really are delightful.”

  He genuinely believed he was doing something nice, and how could she refuse such a candid token?

  “Yes, Wren, why don’t you give it a try?” William said, smugly.

  Sneering at him with a stare that could render steel, she gritted her teeth and muttered, “Oh, I’ll get you back for this, you scummy toad!”

  Little Icrick wasn’t sure what she meant by that, so he started fidgeting a bit. God knows what the insect was thinking.

  William denied all fault, and said, “What did I do? I thought you wanted a nice, big, juicy insect to chew on!”

  “Y-Y-You mean, y-y-you don’t really want my present after all, Wren?” Icrick asked with puppyish eyes.

  “Oh, hand it over so!” she grumbled, snatching the insect out of his paw.

  Icrick was beside himself. And William was beside her with a silly grin on his face.

  She stood glowering at the cricket. But before she could re-evaluate, she twisted its head off and munched it down detestably. Hapless this was for Ifcus, who’d just stuck his head back inside the doorway long enough to see it. He did a hasty turnabout and hobbled straight back outside with his ears rearwards and his neck sagging lower than before.

  “Mmm…tasty?” William jested, as she struggled to keep it down.

  “Not as tasty as the steaming horse apple I’m going to cram down your gob tonight when you’re asleep!” she whispered, leaving him stuck for words.

  She discarded the remains, while Icrick wasn’t looking, and ordered, “Right, let’s just find our way into that city, and we’ll be out the other side of it all the sooner. There must be something ‘round here that shows us the way in…a map, maybe? A tunnel? Or a conveyance of some sort, perhaps? Icrick, you search the other rooms, and ye two can look around in here. Me, I’m going to go out and check on Stell for a minute. I could use some fresh air myself.”

  She took William’s little prank in surprisingly good cheer, all things considered. There was no question she wanted to be out of the accursed windmill so fast that she was willing to let his shrewd little wind-up slide, for the time being.

  William had quite the little snigger to himself about this and then went back to searching for a way into the city. But he was not smiling for long. For he was by himself now, and the insects were getting braver. They crawled along his legs and were clinging to his hair from above. He was able to brush them off easily enough, but that’s not to say he wasn’t worried. His searching grew faster; to the point where he was tossing furniture about and booting things out of the way.

  Safe as can be on William’s shoulder, Khrum asked, “So…what ya at here, laddy?”

  “Looking,” William answered, trying to focus.

  “Lookin’? For what?”

  “Looking for a way over that wall, Khrum…don’t you ever pay any attention?”

  “What exactly are ya lookin’ for that’ll do that?” the leprechaun interrogated.

  “I don’t know. A door! Maybe a mechanism or something? Or a map! A clue.” William sighed, fed up of Khrum’s questions.

  “A mechanism?! What sorta mechanism?” scowled the leprechaun.

/>   “Not sure yet!” the boy stated, and with his nerves worn thin, he added, “Khrum, shouldn’t you be eating, like Icrick? I mean, rummaging about here would be a lot easier for me knowing that ye two are well fed.”

  “No, no, I’m grand,” answered Khrum, genuinely unawares that he was actually acting the nuisance. “Gave up insects for my resolution last New Year’s! Been livin’ off root juice down in the Grollo ever since! There does be eatin’ ‘n’ drinkin’ in aul’ root juice, so there does. Puts hairs on your chesht. But it has ta be age-old roots…below the ground like. Gives it that extra Whu-psssh!”

  About to insist that he either help out or pipe down, both William and his little green passenger got startled by something shifting on the opposite corner of the room; something other than insects.

  It was as though something had suddenly swelled up from the ground, like a wave, before collapsing into obscurity again.

  His eyes zipping about the chamber, William beckoned, “Wren! Was that you?!”

  Popping her head around the corner, she asked, “Was that me what…?”

  “…Who made that noise just now.”

  William noted an extremely bleak expression on her otherwise silent face. She wasn’t looking at him at all, but over his shoulder. Slowly, he looked back.

  A giant swarm of insects were moulding themselves into a corporal stature right behind him. Teetering and droning in creeping clumps, as of a horror scene from some vivid hallucination, they proceeded to assemble themselves until, standing before his awe-stricken face, was the shape of a hooded monk, fashioned from head to toe by those most gruesome arachnids.

  “I don’t think any of us were expectin’ that ta happen!” Khrum gulped.

  “Just walk away, William…slowly!” Wren whispered carefully.

  Lunging into a new wave, this arthropodal abbot suddenly rippled its way across the floor, where it reformed itself in front of her. Wilting its head with folded arms it simply stood there, silent as can be, as if curious about the girl and her words. William stayed cemented to the floor, so fearful of making any false move that even his trembling breaths were striving to act. Wren was the same.

  Events then took another strange turn when Stell returned and was caught completely off guard by this odd, insect-wrought being.

  In an attempt of chivalry, he blurted out, “Oh, hello there,” yet anxiousness played in his voice as he said it.

  Rolling into another swell, the entity surged forth until it emerged just inches before his eyes, yet this time it mimicked Stell’s appearance, right down to his exact movements. It was a perfect likeness…aside from the obvious distinctions.

  Stell swayed his palm in front of the being’s face. The creature reacted accordingly, with a responding wave on his side.

  Smiling to himself, he mumbled, “It duplicates who it sees. Extraordinary!”

  It really was incredible, to see it communicating like this, particularly when they assumed all eastern life to be completely vulgar and so very nasty. But that was not the case here. Charming were the qualities of these once-supposed ‘horrendous’ insects. Pure too.

  Wren then took the duty of asking, “Um…excuse me. W-We are looking to get into the Barren City. Can you please help us?”

  The mass of insects delved back towards her and emulated her appearance, too. The only difference was, they were smiling. This spoke of a hidden innocence and the desire to conform.

  Wren found herself feeling for this creature, in a way she would never have deemed likely. For it may have appeared gruesome, at first glance, but she soon came to the conclusion that it wasn’t the least bit menacing. To test this, she put her hand out to touch its face, but it recoiled, and flowed back towards William. He was frightened, but he stood his ground.

  Like before, the insects were sculpting themselves into an image. The others observed, but were rather shocked to see the impression of a man standing over him. It didn’t portray William at all, but a stranger, unlike anyone they knew. The face, however, kept shifting and thus could not be identified. Otherwise its presence was strong; strong in bearing as it peered down over William with its head cocked to one side.

  Taken aback by what she was seeing, Wren gasped, “Is that…?”

  Stell’s eyes grinned and concurred.

  A spark flamed within William’s heart when he spied this hero standing before him. It was like a strange dynamism was guiding these insects in an attempt to reach the boy, urging him to hold on and keep his faith. It was clear as day as to who this man actually was, and strange to say, had William only been older, his frame and motions would have been more or less the same.

  It didn’t do much at first. But then it reached out to the boy, about to touch something on William’s own person. Following its hand with impenetrable focus, the lad was spellbound by that which it so wished to show him, as perhaps it may grant him further clues as to how he was to become one with this sorcery of his. But, wouldn’t you know, Icrick came stomping around the corner like an elephant at that crucial moment.

  He shrieked so loudly that he startled the creature back into hiding.

  “W-W-What in the name of Patrick’s crook is that?” he trembled, hiding behind the Elf.

  “Icrick! Whisht, will ya!” Khrum exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “It’s friendly! No need ta go bawlin’ into its face like that!”

  Such as the way a kindred spirit would coax a shy kitten out of hiding, Wren crouched down, and spoke softly into the shadows, “It’s fine…you can come out now. That’s just Icrick, our friend. He means you no harm. Believe me.”

  From within the darkness, that same hooded abbot peeped out, still apprehensive of this unusual Grogoch creature.

  The monk, easing its way from the shadows, found its way back out into the open again; watching Icrick warily as it advanced.

  “Pardon my rudeness,” said the Grogoch, now feeling secretly conscious about the insects that he’d recently ingested, lest he angered this entity. “Didn’t mean to frighten you. My name is Icrick Tum, and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, dear…er…insect…m-m-man!”

  Because the being didn’t possess the necessary vocabulary to converse, it responded to Icrick’s greeting the only way it could, however it wasn’t very pleasant for the Grogoch, I can tell you.

  The monk rolled right up in front of the Grogoch’s face in a mighty breaker, where it adopted his very appearance, and screeched out just as piercingly as Icrick himself had done not a moment ago. The Grogoch shuddered with an involuntary, quaking wail, then scampered in behind Stell, where he peeked out with dilated eyes. But the entity didn’t mean him any harm. He was simply welcoming Icrick to his home, however the Grogoch didn’t know any better. Instead he was all huddled up, shivering behind Stell’s cloak as his mirrored-self stood staring in at him.

  “Don’t be afraid, Icrick,” Wren said. “It’s probably just as frightened of you as you are of it! But it’s friendly…trust me. Just look at it, it’s harmless.”

  Just as Icrick was about to come ‘round, Wren heard the clopping of hooves behind her, and she clenched her eyes at the sure-to-be racket that was about to be kicked off by the Dullahan at the expense of this poor creature.

  “STONE THE CROWS!” cried The Head, as Ifcus scrabbled into retreat. “WHAT A HIDEOUSLY, UGLY, ROTTEN, OL’ SIGHT!”

  The abbot crashed into a spatter of scattering bugs, and sought cover once again. But then, a frightening roared echoed amongst the walls of the nearby metropolis. They thought a great grisly was at large, yet this bested even the mightiest of bears in both volume and ferocity.

  “Valstarius?!” gasped Icrick, but William had come to conclusions of this own.

  “No, it’s something else,” he whispered.

  All too wary of it himself, the monk re-formed and listened closely, heeding neither sound nor gesture of the others around him.

  “What is it, my friend?” asked the girl. “Is it something bad?”

 
; “I’ll say!” sulked The Head, still disgusted by that bizarre being in his company.

  The insects sprawled themselves back onto the floor, where they constructed an organic stairwell up to the very next floor. It would seem that they were keen on aiding our heroes to evade he who’d since bellowed.

  Khrum, who was eager to get going, spurred William’s shoulder, and said, “Lookit, now we have a way o’ gettin’ upshtairs! Chop-chop there, William, like a good lad.”

  “You want to walk, Khrum?!” the boy sneered, and toying with his fingers, Khrum replied, “Um, n-n-not really…no.”

  “Well then! Quit kicking me like some stinking aul’ donkey!” hissed William, and turning to Ifcus, he put in, “No offence,” and Ifcus accepted his apology sportingly.

  The boy was annoyed. For the entity was about to show him something, and now it was too late; trouble was near, and the insects were growing restless.

  That pulsating stairway rocked unsteadily from side to side.

  Crosco looked at it with total distaste, and said, “I shall just wait down here…if it is all the same to you. Let me know what it’s like when you get up there, eh? Jolly good!”

  “Right, Crosco…you first!” Wren ordered, shoving Ifcus onto the first step from behind.

  “Halt!” exclaimed The Head. “Shove not my trusty steed, wench!”

  Wren bit back, “Grand! Well! While we’re describing the view from upstairs, you can shout up from below and explain to us what that monster looks like when it gets here. That way we’ll all be well informed, won’t we?”

  Crosco wasn’t long commanding, “Clear the way!” and, stride after squelching stride, he made his way up that soft stair, with Ifcus staggering thereafter.

  A chill ran down each of their spines when that same growl vented again and, one behind the other, they traipsed their way upstairs, while remaining ever so vigilant not to damage too many of those kindly insects, which came as quite a challenge, as I’m sure you can imagine.