"Easy der, big fella'," said the waif to Tinko. "It'll be done soon enough and den you can share wit da rest of us." Tinko rubbed his blistered hand as the teens waited patiently for their breakfast to finish cooking. Once it had cooled down, they ravenously tore into the greasy meat. Lem watched them in amusement as they gnawed every last bit off of the bones. A pipken did not yield a large meal as it was only slightly larger than a rat, but its meat was lean and tasty. So tasty, in fact, that pipken were one of the most hunted prey amongst forest animals and woodsmen alike.
"You'd best learn ta catch these on yer own if ya plan on being out here in da woods for any 'mount of time," said Lem. A thought dawned on the teens for the first time. What if they were going to have to be in the woods for a long time? What if they were going to have to hide here forever? They had been so focused on getting to Woodhaven and finding Declin that they hadn't thought of what would happen next. They had just assumed they’d be returning to their homes in Reysa. But what if this was now their home? Suddenly, they weren't so hungry.
"So how long before we reach Woodhaven?" asked Loras.
"Shouldn't be no later dan dis afternoon, assumin' we don't have no trouble. Best dat we stay off da path from here on out. You two are gettin' a might tall."
He was right. Loras and Regan had grown at least two inches each night. They now stood nearly six and a half feet tall. It would not be long before their size would reveal their true nature to the world.
The group finished breakfast and started out through the forest at a faster pace than the day before. Even with his gimp foot, the waif seemed to travel more swiftly over the uneven ground of the forest than he did on the flat path by the river. He used his walking stick as though it were a third leg, and the teens, even Loras and Regan, often found themselves struggling to keep up.
They traveled on without a word for the entire morning, pushing right through to the afternoon. Tinko, realizing that he was facing the prospect of a third consecutive day without lunch, began to grumble to himself. When nobody paid attention to his muffled complaints, he began to grumble louder and louder about how hungry he was. Finally, he sat down and refused to move.
"Get up and stop acting like a child," said Loras.
"I can't. I'm too hungry," whined Tinko.
"We're all hungry," said Regan. "But we can't slow down now. We don't know who might be behind us."
"I'm sorry, but I've never walked this much in my life. I need to refuel, or I won't be able to go any further. Can't we just eat something real quick?"
Loras stomped angrily toward Tinko. "Get off your ass right now or I'll—"
"Enough!" said Lem. "I can catch somethin' quick enough for us to have a snack, if dat's what it'll take to get 'em movin. Yous all stay here."
"I can help," said Loras. "Let me come with you."
"No, you stay here wit da other two."
"You said yourself that we needed to learn how to provide for ourselves. Why don't you teach me?"
"No time. You'd only slow me down. You stay."
"But—"
"I said stay!" It was the first time the waif had raised his voice since they had met him. While his tone made it clear that the conversation was over, he still turned and disappeared into the woods before Loras could argue any further. He hadn't been gone for more than two minutes before Loras announced that he was going hunting.
"He said to stay here," said Regan. "What if someone comes while you're gone?"
"We haven't seen anyone all day," answered Loras. "Besides, you have Tink here to protect you."
"Funny," said Tinko.
"Seriously," pleaded Regan, "he'll be back soon and then we'll need to get moving again. What if something happens to you?"
"Nothing is going to happen to me," said Loras. His mind was already made up. "If it makes you feel better, I'll just go down to the river, so you'll know where I am. If I'm not back in fifteen minutes, you can send Tink to come get me. Deal?" Arguing was useless once Loras had his mind made up, so Regan let him go.
"Fifteen minutes," she said. "Then I'm sending Tinko. And you better hope that nobody comes down that path in the meantime."
"You'll be fine," said Loras with a grin and he bounded through the brush in the direction of the river. On the way, he surveyed the forest, looking for something that he could use as a spear. He spotted a tree branch that looked promising as it had already been stripped of any off-shoot limbs.
When he arrived at the river, he found a broken rock whose edge had not yet been worn down by the river's current. Loras stepped cautiously into the water and used the rock to sharpen the end of his tree branch into a jagged point.
Once Loras had waded to a knee-high depth, he saw several brightly-colored fish swimming around his legs. This is going to be easy, he thought. Loras picked out a large, orange-banded fish that was swimming in a small bed of rocks. Time for lunch. Loras lifted his makeshift spear above his head. As he did so, the current intensified behind him and pushed him slightly off balance. He flung the spear in the direction of the fish. It missed by three feet.
"Rey Damnit!" said Loras aloud. He swam over to retrieve the stick before it was swept downstream. The current was running faster, making it a bit more difficult to see the fish under the water. After about a minute of searching, Loras spotted the same orange-striped fish swimming among a group of seaweed, totally oblivious to the fact that it was being hunted.
"This time, you won't be so lucky, my friend," said Loras. He once again raised the spear above his head, his eyes squinting with concentration. Once again, a rush of water surged behind him the moment he released his spear, throwing it well off the mark.
"Seriously!?" Loras looked around to see if anyone was watching him, but there was nobody there. As he retrieved his spear for a second time, he looked down and spotted the same fish swimming slowly around his right leg. This time Loras didn't raise the spear above his head. Instead, he quickly jabbed the stick under the water and planted it into the riverbed, inches from his foot. This time, the spear found its mark. Wriggling on the end of it was the orange-striped fish.
Loras was too transfixed with his catch to notice the wave forming at his back. Within seconds, a wall of water several feet tall was rapidly bearing down on him. When it was only a few feet away, he finally noticed the wave. As he turned to face it, his right foot caught fast between two rocks, trapping him. He held his breath as the wave came crashing down upon him, knocking him flat onto his back and pressing him against the river bottom. His foot remained jammed between the rocks. He struggled to lift himself off of the floor, but the current pressed him down. Three times he tried to push himself out of the water and three times he was knocked back down. On the fourth try, Loras managed to shove his face above the surface. He gulped for air, but, instead, ended up sucking down more of the river. He coughed violently and yanked on his foot as hard as he could, but it remained stuck between the rocks. Upstream, another, larger wave was building towards him.
How are there waves like this in a river? Loras thought to himself. This doesn't make any sense! He yanked frantically on his leg. He could feel the rocks' grasp begin to loosen, but he wasn’t able to pull his foot free fast enough. With the wave now only a few feet off, Loras closed his eyes and braced himself. When it hit him, he knew that this time he wasn't coming back up.
The force of the water crushed him back down into the riverbed. The water churned over him, simultaneously lifting his body off of the ground and slamming it back down like he was a rag doll. Loras didn't even have a chance to sit up on his elbows, such was the force of the angry water above him. He figured he had about ten, maybe fifteen more seconds of oxygen left before everything would go black. He had enough time and strength left for just one more push. Loras mustered all of his remaining strength and pushed off of the river bottom. His lungs burnt inside his chest as he strained for the open air. This time, his head didn't even come close to surfacing. The river level had somehow ris
en two feet in the past minute. It was as if the river was trying to kill him.
Just before he lost consciousness, a set of strong hands grabbed Loras under his arms and lifted him up with incredible strength. Loras' head surfaced. All of his senses were instantly overwhelmed. The sound of the rushing water was deafening. The glare of the blazing sun was blinding. His body was void of strength, and he fell limply below the waves once again. But the hands did not let go. One more violent yank and Loras' foot was free of its trap. Loras felt himself being pulled toward his rescuer’s chest, registering in the back of his mind that they were moving toward the shore. Once on dry ground, he was dropped with a thud.
Loras spent the next minute lying limp on the riverbank and sucking in as much air as his body would permit. His head was spinning. His eyes refused to focus on anything, so he squeezed them shut. He could hear the river's current gradually slow to its normal pace. A new sound took its place – a continuous stream of garbled curse words and intermittent coughing coming from the man beside him.
"Yer da dumbest floater I'd ever... *cough*... can't do a damn... *cough*... stubborn sonnuva...*cough cough*"
Loras turned over on his side to see the wet and disheveled figure of Lem sitting next to him. He didn't think he'd ever seen anyone look angrier.
"You stupid... *cough*... good-fer-nothin... *cough*... shoulda just let ya drown...*cough*"
Loras finally felt strong enough to speak. "What the hell was that? Rivers aren't supposed to do that, are they? It was like... it was trying to kill me!"
"She was tryin to kill ya, ya stupid floatin' sonnuva—"
"Loras!" Regan and Tinko came running out of the forest and flopped right down next to their wet companions. "What happened to you??"
"The river... it... it tried to kill me!" panted Loras.
"It what?!" exclaimed Regan. She turned her gaze from her brother to the waif and back again.
"It weren't da river," said the waif. "It were Lyse."
"Who is Lyse?" asked Regan. She and her brother looked confused.
"I know who Lyse is!" exclaimed Tinko. Of course he did, thought Loras. "She's the mythical goddess of the seas! She rules over all of the oceans, rivers and streams. I read about her in a book once."
"First off, she ain't mythical – she's real," said the waif. He was beginning to become annoyed with Tinko. "And second, she ain't no goddess. She's an elemental, and a vengeful one at 'dat. All da fish an' critters of da sea is her children, an' she don't take kindly to tormans, or Tormada," he looked hard at Loras, "poachin' her family. That's why ya don't never see no woodsman spear fishin' in da river. Like I said, she's vengeful, she is."
"But wait," said Loras. "Tink caught some fish yesterday and he wasn't nearly drowned for it."
"How did he catch 'em?" said Lem.
"With a net I fashioned out of some long grass," said Tinko proudly. "It was actually quite clever what I did, you see I tied some knots—" Lem raised his hand to cut him off.
"Der's a way to do 'tings and a way not to," said Lem. "Animals get caught and eaten. Dat’s da way of nature. But he did it da civilized way." Lem spit on the ground in front of him. "You did not."
"How is it that we've never heard of this Lyse," asked Regan, addressing her question to Tinko as much as the waif.
"Because all yous Reysene and Gartolians care about is your own damn gods. Every'ting is “Rey” dis and “Gar'on” dat. Yous never paid no matter to what happens outside those fortresses yous call cities. But let me tell yous some'ting," and he leaned close to the teens, "der is more to da world dan you learn from yer fancy professors and books... a lot more," he was looking directly at Loras now. "Yous best learn dat quick if yous gonna survive out here."
There was silence for a few moments as the teens digested the waif's words. Tinko squirmed in his seat the way he did when he had a question, but professor Lucan refused to call on him. Finally, he couldn't hold it in any longer.
"So you can't hunt the fish but you can hunt the pipkens and nimbers? Won't the god... er elemental of the forest get pissed that you're eating his children?"
"Ain't no elemental of da forest, dummy. Who ever told ya dat?" Tinko's mouth hung open in bewilderment. Loras let out a grunt of laughter. Someone had finally stunned Tinko into silence.
Lem had not had a chance to catch anything before he rushed off to save Loras from drowning, so the four of them continued on without lunch, after all. Nobody complained. Even Tinko held his tongue.
As they continued on along the river path, they could hear the river surging upstream. The current got much stronger the further they went, and the river itself seemed to have doubled in size from shoreline to shoreline. The louder the river roared, the more uncomfortable Loras became. The memory of being crushed into the riverbed sent a shiver down his spine.
The group trudged on for two more hours until the midday sun was directly overhead. The sound of the river's rushing water was so deafening that it was difficult to hear anything else. Through the trees ahead, they could spot the place where the river forked. Loras and Regan felt a peculiar sense of nostalgia. This was the place where eighteen years ago the river had borne them to the left, towards Reysa. They did not want to think about what their lives would have been like if the river had carried them right.
Before the river forked, it became a single massive stretch of whitewater and foam. Off in the distance, rising up from the river itself, was the faint outline of Pinecrest Mountain. Loras gazed at the famous peak. Professor Lucan had described the mountain in class before. Loras had pictured what it looked like in his mind, but Lucan's description did not do it justice. Back in class it had just been the Tormada's mountain – something he couldn't relate to. Now he had a new appreciation for it, as it was the place where he had been created.
Pinecrest Mountain's sides were impossibly steep and too treacherous for any torman or even Tormada to scale. A few had tried, but none had succeeded. Staring up at the mountain, Regan whispered to her brother. "I can't believe anyone would even consider climbing that thing. I don't care what is on the top of it."
"I'll bet an Omega could make it to the top," said Loras.
"You mean like Drohnus?" added Tinko. It was rumored that Drohnus had died trying to scale the mountain, but his body was never found. However, a large pile of boulders at the base of the mountain marked the location where he presumably met his end. For, on the day he had planned to start his ascent, there was a massive landslide – the only one ever recorded on the mountain. It was as if the gods had spotted the intruder and threw him back.
"Maybe he did," answered Loras. "Maybe he's up there staring at us right now."
Standing on the forest floor, one could not tell that the peak of the mountain was flat, but everyone knew that was the case. The top of Pinecrest Mountain was the most famous place in all of the world, for it was there that stood the Scales of Torma – the legendary regulator of Tormada life.
Water that was collected all along the Crescent Mountains funneled into an arched aqueduct that connected the Crescent Mountains to Pinecrest's solitary peak. Amazingly, the water flowed up to the peak as if it were summoned by The Scales. From there, the water crossed Pinecrest's flat plateau and came tumbling down the eastern side of the mountain in a massive, foaming waterfall. The pool at the bottom of the falls fed the Aeil River.
The fork of the Aeil was a magical place. The water, the trees, even the air was different than in the city. Everything was alive. The teens felt a sudden surge of exhilaration within them. Maybe this is what Drohnus felt like before he tried to scale that thing, thought Loras. He could start to understand how someone might consider the climb.
The intoxicating energy that filled Loras and Regan was quickly dashed when the group approached the bank of the river. Laying between them and their destination were three hundred feet of swirling, gushing whitewater. Even with a boat, there was no way that they could cross the river. But, cross they must, for on the oth
er side was the city of Woodhaven.
Woodhaven was actually two cities bisected by the mouth of the Aeil River. The buildings were a hodge-podge of straw huts, log cabins, metal lean-to's and multi-level tree houses. Most of the structures looked like a strong breeze could blow them down. They were impossibly lopsided and ill-constructed. Several buildings leaned on adjacent structures, each propping the other up. It was a crude, makeshift city, but charming in its own way. The laws of physics in Torma would tell you that there was no way Woodhaven should be standing, but there it was, flanking the banks of the gushing river in stubborn defiance.
For centuries, Woodhaven had served as a way station for travelers from both Reysa and Gartol. This was due, in part, to its location midway between the two great cities. The teens could see elements of both cultures in Woodhaven’s architecture and technology. There were several light tubes running along what appeared to be the main streets of the city. Little bits of solar light flickered inside of them – just enough to periodically illuminate the bottoms of the nearby buildings. It created an eerie effect. A rusty conveyor belt ran through the second-story level of the city. Traveling back and forth along the belt were several rudimentary machines, each one designed to perform a single function. The teens watched as one of the machines stopped and collected an overflowing trash bin that was hanging out of a window. Another was pouring some glowing liquid into a light tube that had gone out. A third robot attempted to fix a crooked window by wildly swinging a hammer at it. Eventually, the window fell off its frame and crashed into the street below. The robot, seeming satisfied, retracted its hammer and zoomed down the conveyer belt in search of something else to "fix."
Tinko pointed out two Gartolian scooters (he had seen them in a book once) and Loras thought he could see the remains of a broken-down hovercraft. All of these things may have been gifted, borrowed, or stolen over many years. But more than likely, they were rewards for waif spies. Loras wondered what valuable bits of information had won those prizes.
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