by Perrin Briar
It wasn’t six hours later they learned the king was already dead. They’d had to act fast to seize the crown and navy before the nobles got their filthy little paws on either. They’d been on the back foot ever since, maintaining their hold.
No one had seen through his disguise, preferring to keep their distance from the admiral’s boisterous nature. Only this foreign woman had guessed the truth.
Admiral turned to First Mate.
“Step outside,” he said.
First Mate glanced at the woman, then nodded, saluted, and left.
Admiral turned back to the woman. He let his gaze drift down to the metal of her arm. He was mesmerized by the way it caught the light and made it dance.
“Where did you get that?” he said.
“The same place you’ll get yours if you don’t tell me what I want to know,” the woman said.
“You’re restrained,” Admiral said.
“Whatever gave you that idea?” the woman said.
She raised her hands, showing the restraints. The metal was twisted beyond recognition.
“Oh, you mean these?” she said. “Advice for the next time you take captive a prisoner with a robotic arm: don’t.”
She stood up and tossed the restraints on the table. Admiral goggled back and forth between her and the crushed metal. He turned pale, before letting himself smile sheepishly.
“What’s your name?” he said.
“Rosetta,” the woman said. “My name’s Rosetta.”
1.
THE CONCERNS of a Humungo bird are not altogether dissimilar to the concerns of any other creature taking care of its young, it just had more powerful weapons to carry out those desires than most.
It had the wingspan of a light aircraft, and though those could not be considered weapons in and of themselves, they were exceptionally useful in escaping danger, or to swoop down on its prey from a great height. Its powerful jaws were long and thick, and though they were not made for snapping or tearing, they could grip its target tight, and then use its superior weight and strength to crush its victims.
Doubters of dinosaurs having turned into birds over many millennia need only glance at this impressive specimen to realize their error.
In the air it was the supreme commander of the skies. On land it suffered from the same awkward gawkiness of its feathered cousin the albatross, and bore the ugly elongated snout of its distant cousin the pterodon. It was the perfect crossing point of evolution.
Once upon a time this whole world had been cast in darkness with the wingspans of Humungo birds, wingtips almost touching as they scouted for food. But those days were well and truly gone, and this bird and its nest were the only family remaining, which was why it was so important for the Humungo to ensure its chicks got all the food they needed. They were the last family, the final survivors. They needed to succeed.
The Humungo stood on an outcrop of rock overlooking what were known as the Blasted Lands. It had once been green and gorgeous with vegetation, and though the Humungo would never be able to put its feelings into words, it wished with a deep longing that it could have given its chicks a better start in life, something more for them to cling to than arid rock.
The Blasted Lands were growing, a fungus on once fertile land. There would only be more of this, the Humungo knew. Its chicks would need to be ready to face it.
Creatures felt the deep resonance beneath the fabric of life more acutely than man. It feared for their future, for this whole world. It had a churning sensation in its belly that had little to do with the rocks it swallowed to mash up its food. It sensed something bad was coming, and soon.
The Humungo had managed to survive this long because it was stronger and cleverer than most, but that was not always enough. The Humungo looked down at its malformed stunted leg, ending in a thin wedge of mutated flesh. It had been too slow reacting to a sabre-toothed rabbit that had seized it in its jaws when he had made a desperate dive for the tasty morsel. The Humungo had almost ended up on the menu itself.
There was a scream, muffled by distance, followed by another, and then another, each at varying pitches. The Humungo’s sense of hearing was not good, but it was enough for it to pick up on the screaming creatures down in the crevasse, getting spat out of the geyser. The bird ruffled its dirty haggard feathers and turned its head.
These creatures were small, with little fur. They lacked the large canines of the sabre-rabbit and claws of the sloth-bear. They would not put up much resistance, the bird was sure.
The Humungo croaked and hopped excitedly from one foot to the other. It leapt off its perch and onto the upward jetstream, the dust and heat from the magma brushing against its wings, patting them dry. It threw its weight down, forcing itself in the direction of the family below.
For once, dinner had come to the Humungo.
2.
THE EARTH was black and carved from flowing charcoal, with flickering veins of artery embers. Curled hollowed trees clutched their chests in a pained embrace, and the wind blew across the vast expanse howling without hope. The family had died and gone to hell.
Was this a foreboding premonition of how the surface was going to die? Was this how the universe would end? With the all-consuming torrent of a raging blistering tempest? A spark would catch, ignite, and there would be nothing left of the world once it had completed its work.
“What do you think this is?” Zoe said. “One of Dante’s seven circles?”
“Too literary for me,” Bryan said. “I prefer the term ‘hell’.”
Thick grey-black clouds swirled above their heads and obscured the sky, making it shimmer like a thick curtain. One thing was for sure: they were still not on the surface.
“At least there’s no water here,” Cassie said.
“Is that meant to be a comfort?” Aaron said.
“No water, no plants, no life,” Bryan said. “It’s a wasteland.”
Cassie shrugged. She failed to see the problem.
“It means we can get through this world faster than any of the others,” she said.
“It’d be a lot easier if we had someone to tell us where the Passage was,” Zoe said. “Otherwise we’re going to end up spending forever looking for where it might be.”
“Still,” Cassie said. “It’s got to be better than the world we were last in, don’t you think?”
But Bryan and Zoe’s expressions and ensuing silence made their opinions quite clear on the subject. They were not relieved. The expanse of the land seemed to roll on into an eternity of hellish landscape.
“Well,” Cassie said. “Do you want to choose our direction, or should I? Woah!”
Cassie’s legs shook. She felt unsteady on her feet.
“Do you feel that?” she said.
The ground and walls vibrated, raining dust down on their heads. Rocks fell through the smoke and clattered at the family’s feet, shattering like they were made of glass. The family rocked and almost fell off their feet.
“Lean against the wall!” Bryan said.
The wall was rough and had holes in it like Swiss cheese. They pressed themselves against it, hooking their fingers in the gaps like handholds. Aaron hit the deck, landing on his ass. His eyes widened, looking up at something falling toward him. He reacted fast, pulling his legs apart as a rock smashed into the hard stone, inches from his crotch.
The shaking subsided and the world returned to its usual blistering calm. Bryan helped Aaron to his feet.
“That was a close call, huh?” he said.
There was a tearing sound as Aaron got to his feet. The bottom half of one pants leg had been torn off at the knee, trapped under the miniature boulder that had almost pulverized him.
“Closer than I thought,” Aaron said.
“What was that?” Cassie said.
“An earthquake,” Zoe said. “Not a very big one, judging by the fallout. Which is just as well. I’m not sure this world could take much more than something on the lower end of the Richter
scale. This earth we’re standing on is rigid. It’d crack right open if the earthquake was any larger.”
“Look,” Bryan said.
He gestured to a finger of molten lava that dribbled down one wall, pooled, and then ran along the ground, apparently following it downhill. It joined a spiderweb of other fiery tracks, forming an assault course of fire.
“We’re going to need to get across,” Bryan said.
The course was crisscrossed by dozens of such fiery tracks, a hopscotch patchwork quilt. The family ran and jumped across each in turn, the searing heat stabbing at the underside of their arms and legs. The ground they landed on was hard and solid.
Bryan leapt and landed on another square of the hard black rock. But this time it lifted up, bucking like a baying horse.
“Woah!” Bryan said.
He leaned forward, his weight just enough to carry him forward. He hit the deck. The rock floated in place. Bryan stood in the middle, knees bent, keeping his balance.
“Now what do we do?” Aaron said.
Bryan got up, careful to place his feet so he wouldn’t rock too much. He looked back. What he saw made his eyes widen.
“We hurry, that’s what we do,” he said.
The others turned to look at what had spooked Bryan. Behind them, a dozen yards out but catching up quick, was a torrent of red, orange and yellow. A liquid magma river.
“Why are things never easy?” Zoe said.
She turned and coiled her legs to jump.
“Wait!” Bryan said. “Let me get into position so I can counteract your landing. The last thing we need is for this rock to tilt over.”
The sweat dripped from their brows, turning the black dust to mud.
“So much for heading back the way we came,” Cassie grumbled.
“Ready?” Zoe said.
“Go for it,” Bryan said.
Zoe leapt, and at the same moment that she landed, Bryan stepped back. The rock leaned to one side, but Bryan was quick to counter it.
“Now, you two!” Bryan said to the kids.
They coiled their legs, ran, and jumped. They hit the deck of the rock just as Zoe stepped toward the middle, balancing it out.
“Now what do we do?” Cassie said.
“Now we need to run,” Bryan said.
“Run?” Aaron said. “Are you crazy? One slip and we’re goners!”
“The magma is catching up fast,” Bryan said. “We’ll need to move fast if we’re to keep ahead of it.”
Aaron shook his head. He wasn’t the sportiest kid in the world, but even he knew what the human body was capable of if its existence was threatened.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s do this.”
“On the count of one,” Bryan said.
A rock behind them hissed as it was pulled under by the surging magma nipping at their heels.
“One!” Bryan said.
Bryan jumped first, hitting the next floating rock. It leaned up. Bryan was quick to use his momentum to throw himself forward. The rock moved with him, but before it had sunk too low, Zoe was jumping. She hit the back of the rock, and it immediately straightened.
Bryan leapt for the next rock while Zoe dashed forward. Cassie jumped. They ran like this, one rock after another, each member timing their jumps carefully, or else risk upsetting the delicate balancing act they were performing.
Bryan puffed and counted his steps. One, two, jump. One, two, jump. He could spy the end of the trail ahead. If they could just get there…
Another two jumps, and Bryan hit the hard rocky surface. Salvation! It was a relief when it didn’t tilt up, when it didn’t rock beneath his feet. It caught him by surprise. He tripped on his toes and skidded across the ground. He wasn’t the only victim, as Zoe hit the deck beside him. She was followed by Aaron and Zoe.
They were puffing and panting, out of breath. They rolled onto their backs to peer at the magma as it oozed toward them, and then lapped at the edge of the unmoving rock they were perched on.
Aaron pulled his legs back to avoid the lava from burning his boots and vulnerable legs. After a few minutes they each got to their feet.
“The perfect early morning exercise regime,” Aaron said, hands on his skinny hips.
But Aaron was no longer looking at the lake of lava that had just been created behind them, and instead had his attention on something else in the opposite direction. He squinted to see the shape more clearly.
It was grey-black on the top and white on its underside. It was bent over, as if split in the middle, forming an M shape. Its arms bent up and down, flapping toward the family. Its movements were broad and graceful.
“It’s a bird,” Cassie said. “It’s beautiful. It can’t be so bad here if there are birds, right?”
The bird drew closer. Its size became more apparent.
“It’s huge,” Zoe said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It dwarfs what we have on the surface.”
Bryan’s own look of awe began to fade. He took a step back.
“Is it just me,” he said. “Or is it getting pretty close?”
The others began to edge to the side, stepping away. The bird hardly altered its loping rhythm. It was already pressing down to greet them.
“I’m sorry guys,” Bryan said. “But it looks like we’re going to have to run again. Pick up your feet! Let’s go!”
3.
THE BIRD swung down, nipping at the family’s heels, stretching with the clawed toes, aiming for their exposed arms.
It screeched, something at home in the prehistoric era, and reared its oblong head back, darting forward. It seized Aaron in its beak, snapping around his ankle like the teeth of a trap.
Aaron hit the dirt and rolled onto his back. The bird pulled at him, dragging him along the ground with its huge muscles. Bryan beat on the bird’s thick beak with his fist. The bird knocked him aside with a casual wave of its wing, and continued to drag Aaron along the ground.
“No!” Aaron cried.
He spun onto his front and cast about for something to grab, to grip hold of, to keep himself in place. But there was no way he was going to hold out against the bird that held him so firmly in his beak. Every time Aaron managed to dig his fingers in the earth, the bird was there to pull him away. It was too strong.
Zoe snapped off a twisted tree limb and brought her weight around, smacking the bird across the head. It made a dull thud noise on its giant hollow beak. The bird backed away, shaking its head. It lurched forward to strike back. There was a yell as Bryan swooped in.
He swung his length of wood, burying it in the bird’s head with a solid Thunk! The bird dropped Aaron. He shook his head in surprise. Bryan could tell by the ease with which the beast had taken the blow that his attacks would have a negligible effect.
Zoe ran at the giant beast, screaming and bellowing. The bird squawked and backed away, losing its grip on Aaron. Its tiny black eyes locked on the morsel that had just been snatched from its grasp.
Cassie bent down to help Aaron to his feet. The bird squared off against the family, wings outstretched to either side. It was an intimidating sight, one it no doubt used to scare off much larger foes than the family.
It had a thick yellow crest between its eyes that ran all the way to the back of its neck. The glossy black feathers around its eyes made it look like it was peering out from a long dark tunnel.
There was no way they could stand against such a beast.
They pulled away, turning to escape. The bird tore after them in its long legged awkward gait. The family’s aches and pains played on them as they attempted to pull away and outrun their pursuer.
Bryan glanced over his shoulder. The bird was insurmountable, huge, taking up his whole vision. There was no way they were going to outrun it.
Unless…
“This way!” Bryan said.
He turned sharp, at a ninety degree angle, leading the family alongside a thick vein of fire that spilled over a crevasse, forming a fiery waterfall.
It roared and hissed as it spat red hot molten lumps over the side.
Bryan skidded to a stop. On either side of the firefall were a series of steep steps, as if cut into the incline for a giant. They would need to be careful if they were to descend.
“Down, down, down!” Bryan said.
Zoe and Cassie slid like they were attempting to make it to home base. They went over the side and gripped the edge with their fingertips. Aaron, less nimble, stopped at the edge and eased himself over. Bryan went over last, staring the giant bird down, but it wasn’t to be so easily cowed, and leapt forward, clamping its beak shut. Bryan stepped back and let himself fall, catching the edge of the precipice.
As soon as his arms caught, Bryan released his grip and let himself fall the remaining distance. The others were already on the next step. Looking up, Bryan made out the giant bird.
It stood back, taking in the sight, piecing together what was happening. It turned its head left to right, exposing its weak depth of field. It needed to figure out how deep and distant the family members were. It leaned over the side, bringing its beak together, snapping for Bryan.
Bryan ducked, avoiding the jaws by inches. Now he lay on the ground. Lava spewed over the side, its burning surface glowing with white hot heat.
“You might not be afraid of me,” Bryan said. “Or my stick. But how do you feel about…”
He dunked the end of the stick into the fiery river and withdrew it.
“Fire!” he said.
The flames burned brightly… for about half a second, before winking out like a damp candle wick. A sliver of smoke wisped from the stick, wafting into the sky. Bryan looked from it to the bird, a look of embarrassment flitting across his features.
“Right,” Bryan said with a sheepish grin.
The bird lurched forward with its hornbill, long neck extending, feathers and wings stretching out to either side as it hissed in agitation.
Bryan pulled the stick back and threw it. It struck the bird on its forehead, but it was far too enraged and consumed with its target to take much notice. It barrelled down on Bryan, pressed its weight onto its stump of a leg, lost its balance and slid down onto the step below.