Hyperion's Shield

by Nathan Schivley

  The waif jumped at the sound of Xander's voice. He looked down from his raised platform and was startled to see four Gartune hailing him. As fast as he could, he began cranking the wheel that controlled the height of the platform and lowered himself to ground level.

  "Permission to come aboard!" cried Xander with a mock salute. He was really enjoying himself. His companions... not so much. The waif could see the uncertainty on their faces as they climbed into the hut. With their added weight, the smaller torman labored greatly to crank the platform back up to departure height. None of the Gartune offered any assistance and he didn't dare to ask them for help.

  "What's your name there, master cranker?" asked Xander.

  "Cy... Cyrus," gasped the waif as he threw his entire body weight into the crank to get it to revolve. Sweat poured from his brow and he had little breath to spare for speaking. So, naturally, Xander decided to start a conversation with him.

  "You probably don't see too many of our type around here, do ya, Cy?" asked Xander.

  "No, sir," panted Cyrus as he cranked.

  "What about your fellow crankers? You all must talk to each other – share trade secrets and such – any of them seen a Tormada around here lately?"

  "No sir... not... in... many... years," replied Cyrus. Each word was exhausting.

  "Well then this must be your lucky day!" said Xander as he clapped Cyrus on the back.

  "So these things have never transported a Tormada?" asked Damina. There was an obvious touch of fear in her voice. Belkore glared at her. Even Damnar, who shared her worry, gave her a dirty look. Gartune did not show fear, especially in front of a lowly waif.

  "She'll hold... 'fer certain... she'll hold," panted Cyrus as the platform finally reached its departure height. In front of the platform, dangling from the zip line overhead, was the rusted-out cable car. The twins entered first, testing each step cautiously as they went. Belkore, eager to show he was not nervous like his companions, shoved the twins inside the car and followed behind them. The cage dipped heavily from the weight of the three Gartune. It now hung a good two feet below the platform. The zip line above creaked with disapproval, but it held.

  "Thanks for the lift, Cy. I'll tip ya once we get to the other side," said Xander as he jumped into the cage. The cage dipped another foot. Snapping noises sprung from the tethered line above them but it did not break. Xander grinned at Damnar.

  "See, isn't this fun?"

  "Wonderful," Damnar responded as he grasped one of the cage's rails and frowned through the bars at the river below.

  Cyrus reached up and released the cable car's brake. Immediately, the car began to zoom down the line and over the thrashing water below. The waif was correct, the cage was fully capable of carrying the Gartune's extra weight. However, the height of the zip line had been calibrated to transport normal-sized tormans, not Tormada.

  The cage dipped lower and lower as it approached the middle of the river. Waves began splashing over the sides of the compartment. The zipline dipped further until the bottom of the cage was quickly submerged. Water rose from the Gartune’s ankles to their knees. The cage slowed, eventually coming to a complete stop in the middle of the river. White water crashed over the sides and sprayed the Gartune in the face. Damina swallowed a big gulp of water and began to cough. Her brother closed his eyes and spit out some of the river that he had just nearly ingested. The spray hit Belkore right in the face as he stood, arms crossed and dripping from head to toe. Damnar looked terrified. Xander was having a blast. He watched his friends struggle with the rushing water while he, himself, stood calmly with one arm wrapped around the corner of the cage, letting the river's spray wash over him like a soft summer breeze.

  Upon seeing that the cable car had gotten stuck in the river, Cyrus frantically began cranking his wheel again. For thirty agonizing seconds, the platform began to rise – and the zipline with it – until finally, the cage was pulled out of the river.

  Cyrus collapsed onto the platform, exhausted. The Gartune were now the problem of the waif on the other side of the line. From down below, Xander yelled something like "this is coming out of your tip!" as the cage continued flying down the line.

  The cage and its passengers arrived dripping-wet at the platform on Woodhaven's side of the riverbank. The attending waif rushed to open the cage door and help them onto dry ground. Belkore shoved the twins out of the way so that he could exit first, proceeding to shove the waif into the ground as well. Damnar and Damina exited next but paid no attention to the waif. Xander exited last and helped the waif off of the ground.

  "Hell of a ride you've got there," he said to the waif, an impish smile still on his face. The waif nodded but did not say a word. Once the Gartune had exited the car, the waif immediately went to cranking his platform's wheel, rising up into the sky and out of reach.

  Xander caught up with his companions who were already trudging towards the city. He swung his arms over the twins' shoulders and fell into step with them. "I don't know that I've ever witnessed such bravery," said Xander. "It was truly inspiring. Promise me this – when you are back in Gartol telling the story of how you were almost swallowed whole by the river, don't leave out the part about Belkore getting spit in the face."

  "So glad to be of entertainment, my prince," sneered Belkore.

  "Not as glad as I!" replied Xander cheerfully. "Now what do you brave warriors think about finding something to eat?"

  "As long as it has a fire," grumbled Damnar as he unclipped his cloak and began wringing the water out of it.

  Chapter Sixteen: The Tavern

  Regan was awoken by a particularly loud snore from Tinko in the bunk above her. She was alarmed to discover a new, unpleasant sensation in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't hunger, although she was hungry. It was an emptiness; a cold and painful feeling that she had never experienced before. The feeling troubled her, and she knew that she would not be able to fall back asleep because of it.

  "Tink," she whispered. "Are you awake?" Tinko let out another loud snore and rolled over onto his side.

  "Tinko!" Regan repeated, this time louder. "Are you still sleeping?" There was no response from above other than the sound of Tinko's heavy breathing. This time Regan kicked the bottom of Tinko's bunk with her foot before she yelled, "Tinko! Wake up!"

  Tinko jumped up and hit his head on the bunk above him. "What is it?! What – what's wrong?"

  "I can't sleep," replied Regan.

  "You can't sleep?"

  "No."

  Tinko flopped back down onto his bed and rubbed his eyes. "Well, I guess if you're not sleeping then nobody is sleeping. That includes you too, Loras!" He kicked the bed on top of him. No sound. Tinko kicked it again, harder this time. Still nothing. "You up there?" he called. When he got no reply, Tinko pulled himself up and peered over the top of Loras' bed. It was empty.

  "Looks like you're not the only one who can't sleep," said Tinko. "He's gone."

  "Why am I not surprised?" asked Regan with a sigh.

  "I don't know what's wrong with you two," said Tinko. "We've been trudging through the woods for days and we finally get a warm bed to sleep in and now you can't sleep? Do you prefer sleeping on the wet ground or in some prickly tree?"

  "Actually, right now I think I would prefer that, yes," answered Regan. "Just anywhere outside sounds better than being in this cave. It's so... cold in here."

  "If by 'cold' you mean pleasantly warm, then, yes, it's very cold in here," said Tinko sleepily as he laid back down onto his bed and slipped underneath the covers. "But if you need out, then why don't you just go ask someone to let you outside. I'll stay here."

  "What if they don't let me outside?"

  "Why wouldn't they? We're not prisoners here," replied Tinko.

  "Are you sure about that?" said Regan.

  "I'm pretty sure," said Tinko.

  "Well, I still feel like we're trapped. Maybe not prisoners, but we're definitely being guarded."

  "Is that such
a bad thing?" replied Tinko. "I'm sure Xander has some Gartune out searching for us right now and I, for one, could use a little guarding. And I would prefer it be by three hundred Reytana."

  "Fine," replied Regan curtly. "You stay here in bed. I need to get some fresh air. Maybe I can find Loras. I'm sure he wants out too; if he isn't already." Regan got out of bed and walked away. Tinko watched as she strode down the long row of bunk beds. He tried to close his eyes and go back to sleep but to no avail. The warm cloak of sleep had lifted from him.

  "Hold on!" yelled Tinko as he hopped clumsily out of his bed. "If you're going then I'm going too.”

  Loras followed the Reytana through the woods for a good thirty minutes. He made sure to keep his distance so that he wouldn't be detected. It was slow going. The Reytana made a point to stop and listen every five minutes or so. Loras hoped that this was a trained behavior and not an indication that the Reytana thought he was being followed.

  Loras didn't mind the stopping and starting. He was happy just to be outside breathing the fresh air. There was still a coldness inside of him, but the claustrophobia from the cave had subsided, and that was a relief.

  Curiosity was now at the top of his mind. Where was this Reytana going in the middle of the night? Surely, he wouldn't venture into Woodhaven by himself, and yet, Loras felt that was the direction they were heading.

  Something touched Loras' arm and, instinctively, he jumped. The Reytana in front of him stopped and turned his head. Loras knelt down just as the Reytana turned towards him. He tried to peer through the tall grass to see if he had been spotted. Thirty seconds passed. Then a minute. The Reytana did not move. A small, pulsing light reflected off the grass in front of him. Loras looked down at his arm. He had been so transfixed on the Reytana that he had not noticed that the thing that had touched his arm was still there. Sitting on his forearm was something that Loras has never seen before. A large, translucent moth, sat calmly on his arm, flapping its wings slowly. Each time its wings flapped a small pulse of light emanated from its body. Loras turned his arm slightly so that he could get a better view of the creature. A long, thin snout delicately prodded his arm as if searching for something. Then, Loras felt a small prick as the snout punctured his skin. A small trickle of light flowed up the moth's snout and into its body. The next time that its wings flapped, the glow in its abdomen was brighter.

  I know what this is... it's a wapa, thought Loras, surprised he had remembered such a small detail from one of professor Lucan's lectures. Greedily, the wapa pricked Loras' arm again and sucked up another stream of light. His stomach began to glow more. But there was something else. All around him, things began to glow. Slowly, he looked up and saw a swarm of wapas hovering above him amongst the trees. They began to circle his location as they slowly descended. Suddenly, Loras realized why he had remembered Lucan talking about the wapas – why he had found them so interesting. They eat light.

  Frantically, he shook his arm in an attempt to throw the wapa off of it, but the moth's grip was strong. Three tiny claws dug into his arm and his snout went in for a third plunge, this time digging well past the surface of his skin. Loras looked up. The swarm of wapas was only a few feet overhead. Panicked, he began to stand up to run but then instantly remembered why he had crouched in the first place. The Reytana. He hadn't moved. Suddenly, the Reytana spoke.

  "Hail," said the Reytana. Loras' eyes widened. Maybe he's just testing to see if anyone will answer. Forced to choose between revealing himself or being sucked dry by a swarm of moths, Loras decided to remain silent. It was the right decision, because moments later he heard another voice off in the distance.

  "Hail yerself," said a familiar voice. Loras straightened slightly out of his knelt position and saw his old waif companion emerge from the woods in front of him. What's he doing here? Loras stood up a bit more. As he did so, he heard a tiny smuuck sound from his arm. The wapa had detached itself and began to fly in the direction of the other Reytana. Above him, the swarm of glowing moths followed their friend towards what they perceived to be a larger meal.

  Declin spoke with the Reytana for a few moments. All the while, the Tormada swatted, annoyed, at the circle of glowing moths that surrounded him. Loras strained to hear what they were talking about, but he only caught a stray word here and there. The conversation was brief, and after it ended, Declin disappeared back into the forest. The Reytana then turned and began walking straight back towards Loras' position. He strode quickly, trying to outrun the pack of wapas behind him. It did not take long before he had outdistanced the swarm. Loras pressed himself flat on the ground and then crawled as quickly as he could behind a nearby clump of bushes. He peered through the leaves and listened to the rapidly approaching footsteps. Loras' heart began to race as he flashed back to a similar situation when he had tried to hide in a bush from a Tormada. This time, his concealment was a success. For the second time that evening, the Reytana passed within a few feet of Loras without notice.

  Loras waited until he could no longer hear the Reytana's footsteps before slowly rising from his hiding spot. He was careful not to make a sound. After all, Declin could still be in the area, and that waif was sneaky. He could be watching right now and Loras would never know it. Loras slowly scanned the forest. Beams of moonlight shooting through the canopy above created random white shapes on the forest floor. Other sections were in complete darkness. If Declin was out there, he was undoubtedly in one the dark areas.

  Loras had two choices. He could turn back and try to follow the Reytana back into The Hole, or he could go in Declin's direction and see if he could find his way to Woodhaven.

  The city had captivated Loras from the moment he laid eyes on it. It was like no place he had ever seen. Granted, that wasn't saying much since the only place he had ever known was Reysa. He longed to explore, and more than that, he dreaded the thought of returning to the cold cave with its oppressive walls.

  Loras' curiosity, compounded by the fact that he was ravenously hungry, made his decision an easy one. Only halfway through his growth spurt, he could still pass as a tall torman if he slouched… and if nobody looked him in the eye. He would have to be careful.

  Loras quietly picked his way through the forest in the direction Declin had gone. He made sure to give a wide berth to the swarm of wapas circling lazily nearby. For a while, he stopped every five minutes to listen behind him like the Reytana had done, but the chorus of forest animals squawking their nighttime songs made it difficult to hear anything out of the ordinary. Eventually, Loras gave up trying to listen for followers and continued on without stopping.

  For over an hour, Loras made his way through the forest, using only the sound of the distant river for navigation. The Aeil was his compass. Once he found the river, he could find Woodhaven. Eventually, the sound of rushing water became louder and more distinct. Loras could make out a faint orange glow up ahead between the trees. He had found Woodhaven.

  Loras stopped when he had reached the tree line that marked the city’s edge. A dilapidated fence surrounded Woodhaven, full of gaping holes and sections where it had fallen down altogether. Entering the city would not be a problem. Entering the city as a torman would require some skill.

  Loras pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and headed towards one of the holes in the fence. He stepped through and made his way toward the closest alleyway he could find. In Woodhaven, there was not much of a difference in size between the main streets and the side alleys. Both were extremely tight – no more than nine or ten feet across at their widest points – and very dimly lit. Reysene light tubes ran across the walls of most of the buildings, but only about one in five gave off any illumination. Torches provided the majority of the light during the evening. Fortunately for Loras, only a few of each were lit in the alley he had chosen.

  From under his hood, Loras peered through the grimy windows that flanked the alley. Each one told a similar story. Drunken waifs yelled loudly at each other and threw goblets against the w
alls while scantily-clad ladies (in the loosest definition of the word) tried to garner their attention. Waif musicians pounded away on a variety of crude instruments. A group of young men gleefully danced in front of them, hoisting their mugs in the air as they circled arm-in-arm. There was laughter. There were fights. It was loud and it smelled. Loras loved it.

  He passed several waifs as he made his way down the alley. None of them paid him any attention. This gave Loras enough courage to enter one of the buildings. He found one that appeared to serve food and he decided to investigate further. As soon as he walked in, his senses were overloaded. Instead of an individual piano or lute player, this particular establishment fielded an entire band of musicians. The song they were playing must have been a crowd favorite, because the majority of the patrons were singing along and sloshing their mugs together during the chorus. The smell of roasting meat met Loras' nose and he could hear his stomach growl over the music.

  Not long after he had entered, a woman with huge breasts and a lazy eye grabbed Loras' arm from behind and swung him around to face her. "Hey 'der, shoog," she said as she raised her hand to lift the hood off of Loras' face. Loras smacked her hand away before she could touch him. Frightened, he looked around to see if anyone had seen him strike the woman. Nobody had noticed. Or if they had, no one had cared.

  "Fine, ya bastard! Have it yer way!" said the woman, feigning offense. "Was just tryin' to be friendly. Now yous don't get any of Miss Molly." She formed her lips into a pout, then turned and stuck her rump out at Loras as she waddled away.

  Loras looked around. Luckily, his little interaction with Miss Molly did not seem to have garnered any extra attention. That was close, he thought. He quickly found an empty table in the corner of the tavern and sat down. Slouching over the table, he pulled his hood further over his head – far enough to conceal his face in shadow but leaving space to see anyone who might approach. He hoped someone would approach him; someone offering food, not... whatever Miss Molly was offering.