The Chronicles of Trellah, Book One: The Perpetual Rain

by T. S. Graham

  “I wanted you to see it before we left,” Mrs. Tanner told her.

  Jantu beckoned Tahra to his shoulder and they all followed the Keeper into the precipitous corridor. As they wound their way downward, Sophina noticed that Talfore had a compact bow slung across his back. Tied to the bow was an arrow balanced at the back end with three rows of bristling hairs. The arrow’s tip was nothing more than blunt wood with a notch cut through the center of it. She wanted to ask him what purpose such a weapon might serve, but could tell this was no time for questions. Even Tahra sat silent and still upon Jantu’s shoulder.

  Soon they were in a section of the Great Cathedral’s main hall that she hadn’t yet seen, striding past doorways to rooms where Protectors-in-training twirled their ivory staffs through the air and jabbed them into stuffed likenesses of vrahkoles.

  The Keeper opened a door at the back of the hall and they stepped through it onto the head of a lofty stairway overlooking a sprawling indoor courtyard. The grounds were filled with gigantic statues of exotic creatures, none of which resembled any animal Sophina had ever seen, in either world.

  “Beyond the statues is a doorway,” said the Keeper. “Go—your boatman awaits. And whisper if you must speak, for no one outside these walls knows of your world.”

  Sophina heard the door close behind them, and she knew that the Keeper was gone. Perhaps it was rude not to say goodbye, but it wasn’t every day that she got to soak in a scene like this. The inanimate beasts in the courtyard were peculiar, to say the least—so much so that she doubted they represented anything real. One monster stood on six arms that bowed out from its back, while another’s mouth was gaped open sideways, baring teeth that would make a great white shark swim away in fear. Others were stranger still, with misshapen appendages and misplaced eyes that couldn’t possibly serve a purpose.

  Sophina trailed behind the others down into the courtyard, where they walked beneath the titanic idols until they came to a small door tucked away in the back wall. Talfore opened it, revealing a glimpse of Mount Vahkar through two rows of giant wooden spikes. The spikes jutted from the ground at random outward angles, forming a corridor that led down to the bank of a murky river.

  She pulled the cloak hood over her head as they stepped outside into the shadow of the perimeter wall. The boatman, who wore a ragged gray cloak, waited for them on a raft that was constructed of thick wood planks. More spikes projected out along the raft’s entire perimeter, clearly meant to be a form of protection for those who stepped aboard. The question was: What did they need to be protected from?

  A heavy splash drew Sophina’s attention downriver, where a series of white-capped waves surged away from the far bank. Something had just dived into the water—and that something was big.

  She looked to Mrs. Tanner for reassurance, but got none. Her former teacher paid no notice to the waves. What on earth could have displaced so much water? She wanted to ask, but they were now too close to the attentive boatman.

  “Zahkah grole,” he greeted as they stepped between two spikes and onto the raft.

  “Zahkah grole,” answered Talfore.

  Sophina followed Mrs. Tanner to the center of the raft. She scanned the cloudy water for signs of movement as Talfore and Jantu moved to opposite sides of the vessel, their staffs held tight with both hands.

  The boatman pushed the raft away from the bank with a long wooden pole. He then leveraged the pole against the riverbed, moving them with surprising speed toward the far shore, where a second corridor of spikes led away from the river.

  Sophina stiffened as a series of whirlpools materialized on the surface, each one forming closer to the raft. Now she wished that she had asked what lurked in these waters. Then, just as quickly, the whirlpools disappeared. The only sound was that of the water lapping at the edges of the raft as they continued to glide forward.

  Sophina heard the delicate pings of dripping water behind her, and she turned a wary eye toward the noise. What she saw froze the breath in her chest. Two colossal red eyes stared at her through the spikes, framed by emerald scales that glistened in the early morning sun. Below the eyes a sinister mouth stretched open, revealing hundreds of hooked fangs that lay flat against pink gums.

  The fangs snapped erect like switchblades as an earsplitting roar ripped from the beast’s cavernous throat. Flecks of hot saliva spattered across Sophina’s face as she stumbled backwards, straight into Mrs. Tanner’s arms.

  “Turn around—slowly,” Mrs. Tanner whispered into her ear.

  Sophina did, only to find a second set of eyes peering at her through the spikes. She could see the outline of hollow cavities in the leviathan’s teeth, hinting that each fang was equipped to inject poison into whatever wretched prey they sank into.

  “It wanted you to stumble back,” Mrs. Tanner murmured, “so that you’d fall through the spikes into the mouth of the other.”

  Sophina turned again to find that the original monstrosity was still there. The cunning carnivore nudged a spike with its snout, causing the raft to pitch beneath their feet. The beast moved to do it again, but Talfore lunged forward and jabbed the tip of his weapon into its left eye, sending it recoiling in agony.

  The roar that followed didn’t just come from the monster they were facing; it also bellowed out from behind. Sophina spun around to discover that the second behemoth’s mouth was also unhinged in anguish.

  The cries went silent as both heads knifed below the surface. Talfore and Jantu skirted the perimeter of the raft, primed to strike again as Sophina stood like a stone figurine beside Mrs. Tanner.

  “Is it over?” she croaked.

  Mrs. Tanner pointed to a line of whirlpools moving toward the shore. Seconds later, a two-headed animal exploded onto the embankment with dueling snarls. It lumbered up to level ground and buried its injured head beneath a triangular flipper. Sophina couldn’t wrap her mind around what she had just seen. What seemed like two creatures had been one, with two necks long enough to separate its heads by forty feet or more!

  “I’m sorry that I didn’t warn you,” Mrs. Tanner whispered, “but I felt you needed a reminder to never let your guard down. Harsh, I know, but you’ll thank me when you get home alive.”

  Sophina was furious that Mrs. Tanner had allowed the scenario to play out the way it did, but she had little time to dwell on it.

  “It appears the creature called for help,” said Mrs. Tanner, her eyes fixed on two more sets of prehistoric heads now slicing toward them from the mouth of the river.

  The raft jolted beneath their feet, sending shockwaves of panic through Sophina. She looked in every direction, expecting to find more nightmarish eyes glaring at her through the barbs—but all she saw was the pebbled slope of the embankment. The bump had been the raft docking at the entrance of the second corridor.

  The boatman bowed his head as one by one, they stepped off onto solid ground. He then pushed the raft back out into open water, his only form of protection being the spikes that no longer looked so imposing.

  Still numb with fear from the encounter, Sophina followed the others through the corridor and up onto a knoll that overlooked the river. She looked back at the forlorn beast as it bellowed simultaneous roars of frustration over a meal lost. Then, it flopped back into the water with a mighty splash.

  7 THE FOREST OF THE DEAD

  The slope that led away from the river was carpeted with wriggling plantimals, but Sophina hardly noticed them. She was still recovering from nearly becoming fodder for something that she wished she’d never seen.

  As the terrain leveled off, she saw something that brought her mind back into focus: a swarm of the same flying creatures that had buzzed her face yesterday on the forest road. Their heads pivoted on flexible necks as they glided like giant albino dragonflies in and out of a hole in the twisted skeleton of a dead tree. One saw them approaching and released a shrill squeak.

  Suddenly hundreds of crimson eyes were fixed upon them, prompting Talfore to temper his
pace. From this distance, Sophina could just make out the human features of the insectoids’ twin pairs of dangling arms. Each arm bent at an elbow, and had a muscular forearm that tapered down to a five-fingered hand. But that’s where their likeness to humans ended. The rest of their features were pure insect, from their triple-segmented bodies to the feathery antennae atop their heads that probed the air for chemical information.

  “They’re determining if we’re a threat to their nest,” explained Mrs. Tanner. “Their sting is fatal, and I’m not sure if our strength will provide any protection. We should keep our distance.”

  Sophina looked away from the bustling horde, hoping not to provoke them. “How can they sting us?” she asked. “Doesn’t the drahtuah make our skin too tough?”

  “The toughness of our skin is irrelevant,” Mrs. Tanner replied. “Think of it this way: If you hit a balloon with a bat, chances are it will bounce off. But if you tap the same balloon with a needle, it will burst every time.”

  “I get it. Their stingers are so small they can penetrate our skin no matter what.”

  “While you’re here you can survive a fall from hundreds of feet—or get jabbed with a Protector’s javelin and sustain little injury,” Mrs. Tanner explained. “But a sting from one of those creatures—or one bite from a tey-tey fly—could kill you in a snap. That’s why the darts I gave Talfore and Jantu are made with hypodermic needles. I left nothing to chance.”

  Sophina focused her eyes on the surrounding environment, hoping to erase the image of darts piercing skin that had formed in her mind. Thankfully there were countless oddities—both plant and animal—to distract her.

  The trees were no bigger here than back home, but their growth patterns were wildly different. Their trunks coiled upward as their leafless branches split again and again into ever-shrinking clusters of twigs. The resulting thickets cast stark shadows on the ground, despite a complete absence of foliage.

  Dozens of cloven-hoofed animals grazed upon the plantimals that wiggled in the sunny patches between the trees. They were the size of small deer, with hourglass-shaped heads and single horns that sprouted up between their scissor-shaped ears.

  Sophina bent down and plucked a green shoot from the soil, then watched, transfixed, as it squirmed in her fingers.

  “Is it a plant or an animal?” she asked Mrs. Tanner, embarrassed that she couldn’t tell by looking.

  “They produce their own food from sunlight.”

  “You mean photosynthesis. So it’s a plant.”

  “Yes, in part.”

  “In part . . . ? You mean it’s both?”

  “They have a rudimentary nervous system, but no brain,” Mrs. Tanner explained, “at least, not one that’s recognizable to me. If only I had more time to study them, I’d know for sure.”

  Sophina winced as another clump of plantimals got mashed by the teeth of a cloven-hoofed animal. “Do you think they feel pain?” she asked.

  “It’s doubtful,” answered Mrs. Tanner. “Their response to stimuli is more like that of a Venus flytrap than a lower-order animal, though no plant I’m aware of comes close to its level of sophistication.”

  Mrs. Tanner’s answer made Sophina feel a touch better about having watched hundreds of these things-that-couldn’t-be-classified get reduced to a stringy paste by creatures they seemed to have no defense against. She was about to place the plantimal back onto the dirt when Jantu plucked it from her fingers. He tossed the twisting organism into his mouth and bit down hard, squirting a thread of green gunk onto his chin as his lips formed a playful smile.

  “Tastes like shicken,” he said with glee as Sophina’s jaw dropped. He saw the horrified look on her face and was puzzled by it.

  “I said a joke, no?” he asked as the innards dangled from his chin like chunky guacamole.

  Sophina forced a smile. “Yes, you said a joke . . . It was very funny.”

  Mrs. Tanner chuckled as Sophina quickened her stride. She had no interest in being a trailblazer, but she also didn’t want Jantu to see her face, which she knew had gone as red as her eyes. She stepped past Talfore to find that he too was grinning. It was the first time she had seen him smile, but the laugh lines that framed his eyes suggested that it wasn’t as rare an occurrence as she might have thought.

  Tahra landed upon Sophina’s shoulder with a soft thud. His whiskers brushed her ear, triggering the smile that she wished had formed when Jantu had dropped his unexpected joke. It’s not that she was disturbed by seeing another plantimal become a nutritious meal; she knew how food chains worked—something had to be at the bottom. Getting mashed to oblivion was their lot in life. Their strength was in their numbers. But couldn’t he have at least chewed with his mouth closed?

  And it was about to get worse. As her mind drifted, Jantu caught up with her and extended his gut-slimed fingers to Tahra, who slurped up the goo with such gusto that flecks of it were flung onto her cheek. Talfore saw her pained expression and belly-laughed. It was the second chink in his emotional armor that she had seen in the last minute, and it helped to put her mind at ease despite what was happening on her shoulder.

  Until now, Talfore’s persona had been difficult to gauge. While she was grateful for his role in convincing the Elders to allow her to stay, she couldn’t help but wonder what his motives were. Did he really think she could help them? Or were his actions based on his belief that “fate” had brought her here—and that her being sent home would have thrown the entire universe out of balance? She supposed it didn’t matter now. She could only hope that these recent flashes were a sign of more good humor to come.

  The trees grew denser as they approached Mount Vahkar, providing shelter for a multitude of animals. Sophina took in the peculiarities of each species as they trudged on: tiny reptilians with wart-covered bodies hopping on two legs like miniature kangaroos; yellow star-shaped slugs that crept over the bark, leaving glistening slime trails in their wake; and round-bodied mammalians with hairless arms that leapt from the shadows to swipe at the innumerable insects fluttering by in the sun.

  Sophina was so engrossed that she didn’t notice Talfore and Jantu had stopped. Only Mrs. Tanner’s firm hand kept her from walking into them. Both men stared at a wall of deformed trees that rose up behind the edge of a deadwood bog. A narrow pathway led through the swamp and disappeared into the shadow of the thicket.

  “Please, tell me we aren’t going in there,” Sophina asked whoever was listening.

  “The sun will soon shine on the path,” said Talfore. “We must be ready.”

  Sophina recalled the road to Trellah, and how the sun had shined upon it as they walked. But that road was wide, while the path she was looking at now was as narrow as a sidewalk. It wouldn’t be fully lit for long.

  “Do you know where we’d be if we were in Thomasville?” Mrs. Tanner asked. “Remember, the two mountains exist in the same space—they’re just different sizes.”

  Sophina looked up at Mount Vahkar, trying to gauge their distance from it. It wasn’t easy given that its cliff dwarfed the one on Jagged Mountain. The roar of the waterfall was also far more thunderous here. Still, she thought she had a good guess.

  “We’d be near Hillside Cemetery.”

  “That’s right.”

  Sophina recalled what the Keeper had said about the sun forcing the necrahs back into the mires, and what Mrs. Tanner had told her about the dead never straying far from their resting place, and realized why the mood had turned so serious.

  “Sophina, look at me.”

  Sophina did, only to find that the gravity in Mrs. Tanner’s voice paled next to that expressed by her eyes.

  “When the sun lights that path, you’ll be walking beside things that can harm you in ways you can’t imagine. If your watcher is among them, he’ll know things about you—things he’ll use to lure you into the shadows. So listen to nothing that he or the others say, because their sole purpose is to end your life as you know it. Do you understand?”

&nb
sp; “No, I don’t understand,” answered Sophina through pursed lips. “How can they hurt me if they’re ghosts? Their flesh isn’t real.”

  “But it is real,” said Mrs. Tanner, “just in a different way than ours. They are metaphysical, yes, but they can still manipulate the physical world. If given the chance, they’ll reach inside your chest and stop your heart from beating. It’s said that death at the hands of a necrah is the most agonizing one can suffer.”

  “Then let’s use a Sorian glider to fly over the swamp,” suggested Sophina with grim determination. “Why walk if we don’t have to?”

  “The vrahkoles and the Umbyans would see a glider,” Mrs. Tanner explained. “Our only chance to remain invisible is to make the entire journey on foot.”

  “It is time,” Talfore informed them in his deep voice. He and Jantu then strode toward the bog where the shadows of the path had begun to retreat. As Sophina gathered the courage to follow, Tahra leapt off her shoulder and bounded after his master.

  Sophina’s first steps were timid, but her confidence grew as she and Mrs. Tanner neared the trail, which was now half-illuminated. Black bird-like creatures with indigo wings that puffed out from their sides like parachutes floated down from the canopy in the sunlight. They alighted on the mesh of roots that lined the path and dipped their straw-shaped beaks into the black water that pooled in the gaps. She followed the lazy descent of one avian beauty until something in the bleak backdrop caught her eye.

  A ghastly face stared at her through the deformed branches; it was a woman, dressed in the remnants of a gray, pinstriped dress. Little of her facial features remained, for they had been misshapen by time and decay. Her clouded eyes bulged in lidless sockets; her lips sagged in front of yellow teeth that were exposed to the roots; and wisps of white hair curled out around the grungy brim of her old-fashioned, red velvet bonnet.

  Sophina’s blood surged in her veins as another face appeared out of the gloom. Then another face materialized, and another, until the woman was all but lost within a patchwork of unblinking eyes and contorted expressions.