by Garry Ocean
Using his back bag as a pillow, Nick was lazily watching Gunn-Terr’s figure. The Alvar was strolling toward the cart. “He must have decided to follow Sith’s instructions and feed the sloths and to check on his ward. He always kept his watchful eye on her. And the girl is really beautiful and strong-willed,” Nick thought. “I need to find a moment to talk with her but with no Alvar around. When he is there, I am lost for words. He’s a tough guy. But how can I arrange that, with him noticing everything? He is indeed a good bodyguard.”
Nick played with the word in his mind: bodyguard, guard of a body, body and guard. In all the Earth’s languages and Interling, the word had exactly the same meaning and was composed of the same two parts. Perhaps, that was the best way to render the meaning. Nick remembered the girl’s light walk, her long beautiful legs and a tightly fitting leather vest that was emphasizing her well-built figure. “Stop it, Nick!” he said to himself, “Let’s think about something else.”
He searched for Gunn-Terr with his eyes, but the latter was already out of sight. “He must be walking around the hill,” Nick decided. And then he suddenly thought that the Alvar was as uncomfortable there as Nick was. Nick noticed during their day’s journey that the warrior was looking around with squeamish curiosity, as if he was trying to get used to the unpleasant and unwelcoming surroundings.
Nick remembered that one time the Alvar, despite Whisperers warnings, did take a turn to one of the blots. He must have decided to look at it closer. He picked up a piece of gummy dirty-green goo with his sword, looked at it for a long time and then shook it off to the ground, disgusted. Whisperer shouted to him not to touch anything with his hands but the warrior must have realized that himself. Unfazed, he took something like a kerchief out of his back bag and carefully wiped off the sword blade with it. Then he threw the kerchief away without a second thought.
Nick felt someone jump on him without making any noise. He looked down and saw Gray. Recently, he decided Nick’s chest was his favorite resting place. In the Dominia’s light, the animal’s fur had the emerald hue to it. Nick rubbed the animal behind his ears tenderly. In response, Gray looked in Nick’s eyes with his huge emerald eyes, as if studying him. Then he stomped on his chest a little, curled up, and in a minute started to snuffle peacefully in his sleep.
“Here you go,” Nick thought, a little jealous, “Everyone is resting, and I can’t fall asleep. I’d love to turn to the side now, but can’t. Don’t want to disturb the little fellow, let him sleep.”
Nick sighed carefully, closed his eyes and drifted into sleep momentarily.
*****
Someone touched his nose. Nick half-opened one eye. Gray was clinging to him with is small but very sharp claws, trying not to scratch him. Nick woke up, set up, and looked around.
“What, Nick, can’t sleep?” Sith whispered right away. “Good that you woke up. Look down!”
Nick followed Sith’s hand. Everything seemed just as usual. Down there, above the blots, the greenish fog was still dense. Somewhere faraway something was making boiling and slurping sounds. Whisperer croaked loudly in his sleep.
“What is it, Sith?” Nick did not notice anything unusual.
“I can’t quite put my finger on it,” the boy was listening to something carefully. “Seems like everything is all right but I am restless. Perhaps, we should wake up Whisperer?” He looked at the sleeping old man indecisively. “But if it turns out we woke him up for nothing, he will be grumpy for the whole day afterwards.”
“Then let’s go together, see what’s happening,” Nick got up, putting Gray on his spot on the ground. The animal stretched and then curled up again. “I won’t be able to go back to sleep anyway.”
Carefully watching their step not to make noise, they walked on the rocky ground and passed the cart with Cleo sleeping in it. Nick wanted to come up closer to check on her, but then suddenly felt uncomfortable and shy. Gunn-Terr was sleeping, leaning against a rear wheel. Next to his right arm, the bare sword was on the ground, ready to be picked up when necessary.
“Sith, where are the sloths?” Nick asked looking around.
The boy started to turn around, looking worried.
“I don’t know, Nick. I just checked on them awhile ago,” Sith was about to start crying. “I swear they were here!”
They both ran toward the end of the hill. The sloths were slowly moving their feet along the gentle slope, almost reaching the foothill. They were dragging the ropes that used to tie them to the ground, clanking with the foot-long metal stakes attached at the end of the rope.
“But how? How is this possible?” Sith started to whine. “I just checked on them. They were there! I gave them some grass. And nailed the stakes into the ground again, all the way in. I will show them right now!” the boy ran skipping down the slope, not even containing his righteous anger.
Suddenly, Nick caught the whiff of some slight movement down there, underneath the green layer of evaporation, and yelled on top of his lungs, “Sith! Stop!”
But the boy, it seemed, already noticed something himself. He tried to stop short on the rocks, and then fell on his behind. The inertia dragged him for about thirty feet before he stopped completely.
From behind the green fog, as if unwillingly, something dark and big rolled out. It reminded him of a giant bubble or, more likely, a mostly deflated ball. But it was huge, about a two-story house in size. This something froze at first, as if listening to the surroundings, and then started to slowly roll toward the approaching sloths. The silly animals finally stopped. The first sloth started to back up awkwardly. But it was too late. A crevice formed in the bubble. In a second it stretched and turned into a gigantic pulsating membrane. In the next second, the bubble quickly wobbled forward and, as if losing balance, fell right on the awe-struck sloths. Loud slurping, and the poor animals were completely lost under the dark dome that covered them. For some time, nothing happened, and then the dome’s surface started to sway and shake violently. The sloths were fighting for their life. The dome’s walls were stretching out, as if someone was trying to break through from inside, but weaker and weaker with every attempt. Then the swaying and shaking stopped. The bubble stood there frozen for some time and then just as unwillingly rolled back into the fog.
“A roll-over!” Sith’s shouting jolted Nick back to reality. The boy was literally crawling up the slope to the top. Then he got up, straightened and ran to Nick.
By this time, everyone heard the noise and had awakened. The first one to approach them was Gunn-Terr. He didn’t ask anything, just started to look down the slope intensely.
“Are you sure, Sith?” Whisperer didn’t wait for the boy to catch his breath.
“Surer than sure, Whisperer! And it was huge!” the boy drew a huge circle with his arms to be more convincing. “And Nick will confirm. Right, Nick?”
Just at that moment, as if to prove Sith right, a bubble emerged from the fog. Perhaps, the same one or another one. Nick couldn’t be sure. Two more followed the first one. They were moving in short rolling dashes along the fog edge. Sometimes the fog would hide them, and then they reappeared again.
“Now, Sith,” Whisperer frowned, “Run to the other side, check it out Gunn-Terr,” this was probably the first time he addressed the warrior by name, “check the left side of the hill, and you, Nick, – the right one. Cleo, you are staying here with me,” he concluded without waiting for the girl to say anything.
Whisperer’s fears were being confirmed: Altogether they have counted at least a dozen of creatures. No one could say for sure. The bubbles were suddenly rolling out of the fog, and then disappeared just as suddenly as well.
“Will they be able to come up here?” the girls asked in a shaky voice.
“I don’t think so. Unless they are very, very hungry,” Whisperer must have realized that he failed to reassure Cleo. Mad at himself, he mumbled, “We need to leave. Immediately.”
“What should we watch out for?” Gunn-Terr asked a m
ore practical question.
“The roll-overs are quite slow. But when they attack, they can move pretty fast. You’d better not let them get too close to you.”
“Perhaps, we should wait for the dawn?” Nick asked quietly. “It will be much lighter then, and the fog will clear up.”
“I am afraid we are already too late,” Whisperer became visibly more nervous. “We should not have camped here. I should have known better!” he gestured with his hand disappointedly.
“Is this the swamp, Whisperer?” Sith asked anxiously. “The rotten swamp?”
“I am afraid so. Do you see how it’s enveloping us?”
Everyone looked around anxiously. Only then Nick realized why Whisperer was so uneasy. The hill was being enveloping by the fog of dirty-green evaporation. The stench became stronger, as if the entire area was covered with thousands of rotten eggs. The fog, just like a live organism, was crawling up the hill, getting closer and closer to them. Suddenly, all companions’ faces had the same expression suggesting that they were all struck by the same idea.
Without talking to each other, they dashed toward their lonely cart.
“Take only the necessities!” Whisperer ordered. “We’ll have to walk fast.”
Nick took two back bags: his own and Whisperer’s. Gunn-Terr extended his arm to take Cleo’s bag, but the girl puffed proudly and started to put it on. Gunn-Terr could do nothing but adjust the straps on her back to make it tighter.
“The roll-overs are attracted to the sound. Try to walk quietly,” Whisperer said, looking at the cart. He thought of something and said, “We need to distract them.”
Nick and Gunn-Terr exchanged quick looks and, without a single word, took the cart’s stuns. They ran the cart and pushed it down the eastern slope. The cart added even more speed jumping and rolling on the rocks, and then cut into the fog and disappeared out of sight. The journey companions started to briskly walk down on the other side of the hill. On the western side the fog was not as dense and in certain places had large gaps.
“Look under your feet,” Whisperer said quietly, “And try to step only on dry ground.”
The troop moved in a single file. Whisperer and Sith walked first. Cleo followed them, with Gunn-Terr walking closely behind her. Nick was the last. He turned around and gave one last look to where they just left. The fog was already covering the hill completely, but through the haze he could see something large and jelly-like slowly crawling up the hill. Nick’s body shook involuntarily and he rushed to catch up with his companions.
The old man was leading them in zigzags, on the path that only he alone knew. The ground under their feet was making disgusting slurping sounds. Sometimes the gusts of wind brought the dense fog of evaporation and covered them completely. In those cases, they had to move blindly, putting their arms on the front person’s shoulders. Whisperer stopped several times and everyone froze then too, listening intently and holding their breath not to make any sound. They were all very tense. Behind that thick haze of fog, something definitely was happening. Sometimes they could hear really loud slurping. As if something large was stomping through the swamp, moving its colossal feet with great difficulty. Another time, a roll-over moved right in front of them, rustling through the rocks in short, slow and heavy bursts and dashes.
Nick lost the feeling of time and direction when the troop finally got out of the sticky fog. It immediately became easier to breathe, but no one even thought of stopping. They only added speed to their pace. Only when they were far enough from the fog did Whisperer signaled to stop.
“We made it out,” breathing heavily with a hand on his chest, Whisperer wheezed. It was obvious that their escape sprinting was taking a toll on him.
“Here, Whisperer, take a sip!” Sith looked very concerned.
“Wait a second, I need to catch my breath!” but the old man still took the wineskin. “We can consider ourselves lucky this time.”
Everyone looked back. The hill was no longer seen. The entire space behind them was covered in a greenish haze. Cleo quickly wiped the cold sweat off her forehead, afraid the men would notice. The girl’s face was pale, but she was still keeping herself together. Nick was thinking about saying something encouraging, but nothing good came to his mind at that time. He himself was not feeling his best.
Gunn-Terr gazed at the yellow Orphius disk climbing up from the horizon line and then looked at Whisperer.
“We will march all day,” Whisperer answered his unasked question. “But we can’t use the shortcut. Do you see how everything is covered up now?”
Everywhere ahead of them, as far as they could see through the pre-dawn fog, there were islands of green blots, with small clouds of evaporations above each. From a distance, they seemed safe and even beautiful in a way. But now everyone understood how deceiving their appearance was.
“If the Departed do not create obstacles for us, by night we’ll get to the Bony Ridge. There was an old hiding place there,” Whisperer looked at everyone, as if checking if they were all listening attentively. “That’s where we’ll spend the night. And then we will walk along the ridge that will give us a shortcut to the Valley.”
During their long day journey, there were no unexpected events or obstacles. Whisperer immediately set the quick pace for the entire troop. Everyone walked in silence, trying to keep the steady pace and breath. Only if they noticed something unusual, they would exchange rare alerting remarks. Two times they had to break short camp to get some rest. The Orphius was right above their heads. It was hot. They did not want to eat, so they just drank a lot.
After the second break Cleo tried to put her back bag on, but she did not manage to do it on second or even third try. Gunn-Terr pretended to try and help her in that. When the girl extended the bag to him, he simply took it on his shoulder without saying a word and started to walk behind Whisperer.
In the second half of the day, a mountain chain appeared at the horizon. Everyone’s mood improved. It was much easier to walk toward a visible goal. The heat subsided. From behind the Bony Ridge, the Dominia disk was slowly rising. The valley was changing in a subtle way. The evaporations floating above the bald spots were taking on their sinister green hue and the blots themselves started to emit intense glow. Sometimes there, in the dense fog, they could see dark blurred figures and quickly moving shadows.
The adventurers, who had been moving in a single file during the crossing, now huddled together, trying to keep close to each other. Even Cleo, still fuming at Gunn-Terr and therefore keeping a distance from them, caught up with the group and now was walking next to Nick. The rocky ground now acquired a greenish hue. At first Nick thought that it was the Dominia’s light, but when he looked closer, he realized that it was the ground itself glowing.
“Whisperer!” Sith squatted down and started to study the ground with curiosity. The boy was also interested in this strange phenomenon. “These are not fireflies, are they? Are they, Whisperer? They lighten up like fireflies. But they are too tiny for the fireflies.”
Obviously happy to take a break, the old man stopped and leaned against a spear that served him as a walking stick. Nick kept his eye on the old man the whole way. Such a journey was too strenuous even for a young man. But Whisperer, who set the pace at the very beginning, was trying to still keep up at the same speed.
“These are spores, Sith,” Whisperer allowed himself to take a few sips of water. “The Forest is going to be here now.”
“So far?” the boy whistled in surprise.
“Looks like it, Sith.”
Nick also squatted down, stroked the ground with his hand and started to look with interest at his palm. The pollen immediately that got on his palm, was dimly glowing with tiny green lights.
“You listen to me, Nick, you’d better shake this trash off. To hell with it,” Whisperer shook his head, “Lest it takes root.”
Nick quickly got up, involuntarily wiping his hand off on his pants.
Gunn-Terr stomped his
leg on the ground several times forcefully. Streams of greenish weighted mix started to swarm around him. The glowing cloud floated for some time in the air without moving and then started to descend on the ground, as if against its will.
“We need to move!” Whisperer waved his hand, calling upon everyone to follow him. “Just a little bit more.”
The group started to walk again. At first everyone tried to step on the ground very carefully, but no matter how hard they tried, clouds of spores would rise from the ground with their every step. Very soon, the companions stopped paying attention to them. Their eyes were set on the Bony Ridge, growing larger as they approached it. Now they could clearly see the elaborate relief of the mountain chain that certainly deserved its name.
When Nick looked at it, it reminded him of a pre-historic monster, or even more, a whole graveyard of gigantic reptiles that was stretching far west. More and more often they were now encountering boulders randomly thrown around the flat ground. The group had to walk around particularly large boulders, and the Whisperer led them in wide detours, trying to stay away from the boulders as far as possible.
Finally, with the last Orphius rays, the adventurers reached the foot of the mountain ridge. It was perfect timing: All the way, as if chasing them, the greenish haze was following them. It was particularly noticeable in the evening, when the Dominia colored it in a greenish hue.
Whisperer stopped, breathing heavily. He looked around for some time, carefully studying the surroundings.
“I think it’s that rock,” Whisperer finally said, using his spear as a pointer. “So many years passed, and nothing happened to it, it’s still there.”
Nick thought that Whisperer’s voice was carrying the notes of nostalgia for the times long passed when the old man continued, “But what could happen to it anyway, such a steady rock?”