Shadows Beneath: The Writing Excuses Anthology

by Brandon Sanderson, Mary Robinette Kowal, Dan Wells, Howard Tayler

  ​ ​ ​ ​The screeches grew closer.

  ​ ​ ​ ​He ran. He ran as he had never expected to do on Patji, wild and reckless. Leaping over troughs, around fallen logs coated in moss. Through the dark underbrush, scarring away meekers and startling Aviar slumbering in the branches above. It was foolish. It was crazy.

  ​ ​ ​ ​He But did not fear death to insect bites or falling vines.it matter? Somehow, he knew those other things would not claim him. The kings of Patji hunted him; lesser dangers would not dare steal from their betters.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Vathi followed with difficulty. Those skirts were trouble, but she caught up to him each time DuskSixth had to occasionally stop and cut their way through underbrush. Urgent, frantic, he did so. He expected her to keep up, and she did. A piece of him—buried deep beneath the terror—was impressed. This woman would have made a fantastic trackpper.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Instead she would probably destroy themall trappers.

  ​ ​ ​ ​He froze as screeches sounded behind, so close. Vathi gasped, and SixthDusk turned back to his work. They were closeNot far to go. He hacked through a dense patch of undergrowth and ran on, sweat streaming down the sides of his face. Jostling light came from theVathi’s lantern behind, clutched by Vathi, and; the scene before him as he ran was one of horrific shadows dancing on the jungle’s bowughs, leaves, ferns, and rocks.

  ​ ​ ​ ​This is your fault, Patji, he thought with an unexpected fury. Why must you try to kill us, those who protect you?

  ​ ​ ​ ​The screeches seemed almost on top of him. Was that breaking brush he could hear behind? We are your priests, and yet you hate us! You hate all.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Sixth’s uncle had explained that Patji needed to be deadly to keep away the unwelcome, the unworthy. And yet, Vathi was nearly as good as any trapper, though she had not set foot on Patji until recently. Did that make her worthy? Did that make her welcome?

  ​ ​ ​ ​SixthDusk broke from the jungle and out onto the banks of the river. Small, by mainland standards—he had once seen a river there so wide, no man could have jumped it. Still, but ithis would do. He led Vathi right into it, splashing into the cold waters.

  ​ ​ ​ ​He turned upstream. What else could he do? Downstream was towould lead closer to those sounds, the calls of death.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Of the Dusk, he thought. Of the Dusk.

  ​ ​ ​ ​He led Vathi upriver. The waters came only to their calves, bitter cold. The coldest water on the island, though he did not know why. They slipped and scrambled as they ran, best they could, upriver. Thisey passed them through some narrows, with lichen-covered rock walls on either side twice as tall as a man.,

  ​ ​ ​ ​Ttheny burst out into the basin, halfway up the heights.

  ​ ​ ​ ​ A place men did not go. A place he had visited only once. A cool, emerald lake rested here, sequestered.

  ​ ​ ​ ​SixthDusk towed Vathi to the side, out of the river, toward some brush. Perhaps she would not see. He huddled down with her, raising a finger to his lips, then turninged down the light of the lantern she still held. Nightmaws could not see well, but perhaps the dim light would help. In more ways than one.

  ​ ​ ​ ​They waited there, on the shore of the small lake, hoping that the water had washed away their scent—hoping the Nnightmaws would grow confused and be unable to track themor distracted. For one thing about this place was that the basin had steep walls, hidden as it was in Patji’s depths. and Tthere was no way out other than the river, and. iIf the Nnightmaws came up it, SixthDusk and Vathi would be trapped.

  ​ ​ ​ ​The sScreeches sounded behind. The creatures had reached the river. SixthDusk waited in almost near darkness, and so squeezed his eyes shut. He prayed to Patji, whom he loved, whom he hated.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Vathi gasped softly. “What . . . ?”

  ​ ​ ​ ​So she had seen. Of course she had. She was a seeker, a learner. A questioner.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Why must men ask so many questions?

  ​ ​ ​ ​“SixthDusk! There are Aviar here, in these branches! Hundreds of them.” She spoke in a hushed, frightened tone. Even as they awaited death itself, however, she saw and could not help speaking. “Have you seen them? What is this place?” She hesitated. “So many juveniles. Barely able to fly . . .”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“They come here,” he whispered. “Every bird from every island. “In their youth, they must come here.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​He opened his eyes, looking up at the rim of the basin. He had turned down the lantern, but it was still bright enough to see them roosting there. Some stirred at the light and the sound. They stirred more as the nightmaws screeched below. They had not left the banks of the river. They were searching.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Sak chirped on his shoulder, terrified. Kokerlii, for once, had nothing to say.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“Every bird from every island . . .” Vathi said, putting it together. “They all come here, to this place. Are you certain?”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“Yes.” It was a thing that trappers knew. You could not capture a bird before it had visited Patji.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Otherwise it would be able to bestow no talent.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“They come here,” she said. “We knew they migrated between islands. . . . Why do they come here? What is the point.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​Was there any point in holding back now? She would figure it out. Huddled here in the night though they were, she would figure it out.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Still, he did not speak. Let her do so.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“They gain their talents here, don’t they?” she asked, looking to him. “How? Is it where they are trained? Is this how you made a bird who was not an Aviar into one? You brought a hatchling here, and then . . .” She frowned, raising her lantern. “I recognize those trees. They are the ones you called Patji’s fFingers.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​A dozen of them grew here, the largest concentration on the island. And beneath them, their fruit littered the ground. Much of it eaten, some of it only halfway so, bites taken out by birds of all stripes.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Vathi saw him looking, and frowned.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“The fruit?” she asked.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“Worms,” he whispered in reply.

  ​ ​ ​ ​A light seemed to go on in her eyes. “It’s not the birds. It never has been . . . it’s a parasite. They carry a parasite that bestows talents! That’s why those raised off ofaway from the islands cannot gain the abilities, and why a mainland bird you brought here could.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“Yes.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“This changes everything, SixthDusk. Everything.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“Yes.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​Of the Dusk. Born during that dusk, or bringer of it? What had he done?

  ​ ​ ​ ​Downriver, the nightmaws screechesd. Then, those yells drew closer. They had decided to search upriver. They were clever, more clever than men off of the islands thought them to be. Vathi gasped, turning toward the small river canyon.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“Isn’t this dangerous?” she whispered. “The trees are blooming. The nightmaws will come! But no. So many Aviar. They can hide those blossoms, like they do a man’s mind?”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“No,” he said. “All minds in this place are invisible, always, regardless of Aviar.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“But . . . how? Why? The worms?”

  ​ ​ ​ ​Dusk didn’t know, and for now didn’t care. I am trying to protect you, Patji! SixthDusk thought in anger, lookinged toward Patji’s fFingers. I need to stop the men and their device. I know it! Why? Why do you hunt me?

  ​ ​ ​ ​ButPerhaps it was because he knew so much. Too much. More than any man had known. For he had asked questions.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Men. And their questions.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“They’re coming for usup the river, aren’t they?” she asked.

  ​ ​ ​ ​The answer seemed obvious. He did not answerreply.<
br />
  ​ ​ ​ ​“No,” she said, standing. “I won’t die with this knowledge, SixthDusk. I won’t. There must be a way.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“There is,” he said, standing beside her. He took a deep breath. So I finally pay for it. He took Sak carefully in his hand, and placed her on Vathi’s shoulder. He pried Kokierlii free too.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“What are you doing?” Vathi asked.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“I will go as far as I can,” SixthDusk said, handing Kokerlii toward her. The bird bit with annoyance at his hands, although never strong enough to draw blood. “You will need to hold him. He will try to follow me.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“No, wait. We can hide in the lake, they—”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“They will find us!” SixthDusk said. “It isn’t deep enough by far to hide us.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“But you can’t—-”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“They are nearly here, woman!” he said, forcing Kokerlii into her hands. “The men of the company will not listen to me if I tell them to turn off the device. You are smart, you can make them stop. You can reach them. With Kokerlii you can reach them. Be ready to go.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​She looked at him, stunned, but she seemed to realize that there was no other way. She stood, holding Kolkerlii in two hands as he pulled out the journal of First of the Sky, then his own book that listed where his Aviar were, and tucked them into her pack. Finally, he stepped back into the river. He could hear a rushing sound downstream. He would have to go quickly to reach the end of the canyon before they arrived. If he could draw them out into the jungle even a short ways to the south, Vathi could slip outaway.

  ​ ​ ​ ​As he entered the stream, his visions of death finally vanished. No more corpses bobbing in the water, laying on the banks. Sak had realized what was happening.

  ​ ​ ​ ​She gave a final chirp.

  ​ ​ ​ ​He started to run.

  ​ ​ ​ ​One of Patji’s Fingers, growing right next to the mouth of the canyon, was blooming.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“Wait!”

  ​ ​ ​ ​He should not have stopped as Vathi yelled at him. He should have continued on, for time was so slim. However, the sight of that flower—along with her yell—made him hesitate.

  ​ ​ ​ ​The Fflower . . .

  ​ ​ ​ ​It struck him as it must have struck Vathi. An idea. Vathi ran upfor her pack, letting go of Kokerlii, who immediately flew to his shoulder and started chirping at him in annoyed chastisement. Vathi pulledDusk didn’t listen. He yanked the flower off—it was as large as a man’s head, with a large bulging part at the center.

  ​ ​ ​ ​It was invisible in this basin, like they all were.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“A flower that can think,” Vathi said, breathing quickly, fishing in her pack. “A flower that can draw the attention of predators.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​Both of their heads turned toward the tube, her weapon, which lay sticking from her pack on the bank of the river. SixthDusk pulled out his rope as she ran forbrought out her weapon and prepared it, then he ripped. He lashed the flower from its branch.

  ​ ​ ​ ​He tried the rope to it as Vathi ran up with her weapon, the end of the spear sticking out slightly from the tubeend. Sixth tied the other end of his rope to it as the

  ​ ​ ​ ​Nightmaw yellscreeches echoed up the cavernyon. He could see their shadows, hear them splashing.

  ​ ​ ​ ​He stumbled back from Vathi as she crouched down, setting the weapon’s butt against the ground, and pulled a lever at the base.

  ​ ​ ​ ​The explosion, once again, nearly deafened him.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Aviar all around the rim of the basin screeched and called in fright, many taking wing. A storm of feathers and flapping ensued, and through the middle of it, Vathi’s spear shot into the air towing the rope and with it the, flower on the end. ThaIt arced out over the canyon into the night.

  ​ ​ ​ ​SixthDusk grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back along the river, into the lake itself. They slipped into the shallow water, Kokerlii on his shoulder, Sak on hers. They left the lantern burning, giving a quiet light to the suddenly -empty basin.

  ​ ​ ​ ​The lake was not deep. Two or three feet. Even crouching, it didn’t cover them completely.

  ​ ​ ​ ​The Nnightmaws stopped in the canyon. His lanternlight showed a couple of them in the shadows, large as huts, turning and watching the sky. They were smart, but like the meekers, not as smart as men.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Patji . . ., SixthDusk thought. Patji, please. She is right. . . .

  ​ ​ ​ ​The secrets cannot remain secret forever. Not with the way the world changes. They will get out.

  ​ ​ ​ ​I will carry them, and do what I can with them.

  ​ ​ ​ ​The Nnightmaws turned back down the canyon, following the mental signature broadcast by the flowering plant. And, as Dusk watched, his corpse bobbing in the water nearby grew increasingly translucent.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Then faded away entirely.

  ​ ​ ​ ​SixthDusk counted to a hundred, then slipped from the waters. Vathi, sodden in her skirts, did not speak as she grabbed the lantern. They left the weapon, its shots expended.

  ​ ​ ​ ​The calls from the Nnightmaws grew fuarther and fuarther away as SixthDusk led the way out of the canyon, then directly north, slightly downslope. He kept expecting yellthe screeches to turn and follow.

  ​ ​ ​ ​They did not.

  #

  ​ ​ ​ ​The company fortress was a horridly impressive sight. A work of logs and cannons right at the edge of the water, guarded by an enormous iron-hulled ship. Smoke rose from it, the burning of morning cook fires.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Sixth sat on a rock aA short distance fromaway, what appeared to bemust have been a dead shadow rotted in the sun, its mountainous corpsecarcass draped half in the water, half out. He did not enter the fortress. Better to stay out here, near the dead shadow, even though his skin prickled as he looked at it.

  ​ ​ ​ ​He didn’t see his own corpse lay in the shallows beside itanywhere, though on the final leg of their trip to the fortress he had seen it several times. Always in a place of immediate danger. Sak rested on his shoulder, dozing, and Kokerlii trilled from a branch closer to the forest. He seemed in good spirits’s visions had returned to normal.

  ​ ​ ​ ​As Sixth waited, his corpse slowly vanished from the shadows, fading like a shadow blending with darkness at the fall of night.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Vathi finally left the fortress. Alone, thankfully, though two more men joined the guards at the gate. All bore weapons similar to the one she had used to kill the nightmaw.

  ​ ​ ​ ​She had not changed. Her muddied skirts were stuck with twigs, her hair a mess. Her eyes were alight. She stepped up to him.

  ​ ​ ​ ​The surf washed against Patji’s rocks. He could not decide if he found it a violent sound or a peaceful one.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“It is done,” she said.

  ​ ​ ​ ​But he already knew that it was. The vision had ended. The danger had passed.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“Eusto was not pleased at my survival,” Vathi noted, “though he could not say so. He was reluctant to stop the device, but my authority supersedes his own.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​Sixth nodded. His eyes fell again on the dead shadow.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“Come into our fortress,” Vathi said, glancing at it. “Get some rest, some food.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“I must return and check on my Aviar.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“They will survive another day without you. They live on this island for weeks at a time without your presence.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​He did not reply.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“Sixth . . . we could use your knowledge. Your wisdom.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“I know,” he said. “You could.” He turned back toward Patji. He could not interpret events of the night. Had the nightmaws been Patji, seeking to cover his secrets? Or had the flower been r
edemption, sent by his father? Which was Sixth? Condemned or rescued? Neither? Both?

  ​ ​ ​ ​“What happened to the One Above,” Sixth said. “The one who died while eating, the one to whom these devices of yours belonged?”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“His body was reclaimed by the others,” Vathi said, frowning. “Why do you ask?”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“I do not think he is really dead,” Sixth said. “They have tricked you.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​Vathi raised an eyebrow at him.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“The machine is a trap,” Sixth said. “They expected you to use it, and they knew the damage it would cause.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​“That’s an interesting theory,” Vathi said, studying him in the morning light. She looked exhausted. The things she had been through . . . It had been less than a day since his arrival back on Patji, and yet, so much had happened.

  ​ ​ ​ ​“It is true,” Sixth said. “You were to use it, and in so doing endanger the Aviar.”

  ​ ​ ​ ​Dusk turned back to the fortress, which he did not enter. He preferred to remain on the rocky, familiar shore—perhaps twenty feet from the entrance—his wounded arm aching as the company people rushed out through the gate to meet Vathi. Their scouts on the upper walls kept careful watch on Dusk. A trapper was not to be trusted.

  ​ ​ ​ ​Even standing here, some twenty feet from the wide wooden gates into the fort, he could smell how wrong the place was. It was stuffed with the scents of men—sweaty bodies, the smell of oil, and other, newer scents that he recognized from his recent trips to the homeisles. Scents that made him feel like an outsider among his own people.

  ​ ​ ​ ​The company men wore sturdy clothing, trousers like Dusk’s but far better tailored, shirts and rugged jackets. Jackets? In Patji’s heat? These people bowed to Vathi, showing her more deference than Dusk would have expected. They drew hands from shoulder to shoulder as they started speaking—a symbol of respect. Foolishness. Anyone could make a gesture like that; it didn’t mean anything. True respect included far more than a hand waved in the air.