by Marc Secchia
“So the wards kill the bad creatures?”
Shioni felt the boy-Fiuri nodding behind her. “Yes, even those creatures as large as Cave-Crawlers.”
“Can a Fiuri pass through wards unharmed?”
“Of course!” Char began, and then he coughed uncomfortably.
“What?” The White Fiuri turned in her seat to regard Char, who squirmed in his seat like a Fiuri child caught stealing nectar. “Char?”
Pulling his antennae in embarrassment, Char muttered, “Wards are keyed to recognise Fiuri magic, Shionelle.”
“What … oh. Oh! I couldn’t–”
“I wouldn’t recommend trying.” He smiled weakly. “At least, not until we find your magic again. By the first pupa, you’re a mystery, Shionelle! Now, to answer the rest of your question, during the old Colour Wars there were wards developed to distinguish between the different Fiuri Colours, right down to the specific Clans. It is believed that the Azure Fiuri guard access to their highest knowledge and magic in this way.”
Shioni puzzled over this, tugging her sharp little chin as she had seen Viridelle do. “Do wards know which creatures are good and which are bad? Or do they kill everything?”
“Everything not Fiuri,” said Char, turning a fine shade of rose at her expression. “They can’t tell good from evil, Shionelle! And the complexity, to program them to recognise different creatures, would simply be impossible to manage.”
“Yet, wards can recognise the Fiuri Clans.”
For the first time, Shioni saw Chardal moved to anger. He swallowed hard, his hands trembling on the nectar gourd he had been holding. Could she not have posed that question more gently? Char was not a killer. Perhaps he had never thought about what his work involved–after all, he helped to shield many Fiuri from grave harm or death, just as he had shielded their group from the Silverfish.
“Sorry, Char.” Still, a further thought struck her. She asked, “Do you think a ward could be placed inside a Fiuri’s brain? Blocking them from … remembering?”
His long tongue flopped onto his chest.
Chapter 12: Crystals to Cracks
BY Late Afternoon, the buzzing Vermilion Dragonflies had carried them far from the gloomy tunnels of fungi and medicinal mushrooms, to the sparkling wonderland of Cave Fourteen. Shioni decided that rolling up her tongue was not worth it. What a wing-prickling, antennae-tickling delight for the eyes!
Even Ashkuriel seemed to be on the verge of smiling. Almost.
Crystals. Everywhere, crystals, so thickly encrusted that there appeared to be no stone left uncovered in the entire length of Cave Fourteen’s endlessly straight tunnel. Branching crystal forests in a deep emerald hue. Dazzling crystal florets in delicate pinks, vibrant oranges and deep, mysterious shades of blue. Here and there, Shioni saw oases of hammock flowers or other plants being cultivated by frilly-winged, delicate Yellow Fiuri, quite unlike the solid, unsmiling bruisers Ashkuriel had chosen for their escort. Curious Fiuri children riding long, torpedo-shaped crystal dolphins, came swarming from all around to chatter and point at the visitors as they whizzed by. Shioni waved back, laughing happily.
Filled with the tinkling song of working Fiuri and radiant rainbow hues of light, Cave Fourteen seemed to be a place where unhappiness was unknown.
“Scholars theorise that Fourteen was formed differently to the other caverns,” Char lectured anyone who cared to listen. “The cavern walls resemble the interior of a vast geode, or a volcanic pipe encrusted with gemstones.” Shioni nodded. She remembered a volcanic pipe filled with red garnets. Perhaps she was a Red Fiuri, one of the scientist clans? “These crystals, however, are living organisms. Their growth and multiplication can be measured. There’s a vast array of creatures unique to these crystal caverns, which exist nowhere else on Fiuriel, as best we know.”
“Are those Silverfish?” cried Shioni, pointing ahead.
“Crystal butterflies,” Viri smirked. “They’ll flutter you to death.”
“Stop shaking your antennae at my little petal,” scowled Iridelle, folding her brawny arms in a manner that evidently alarmed the Yellow soldier seated behind her.
When Ashkuriel finally called for a rest, they halted in one of the oases for the night. A small delegation of Yellow Fiuri appeared. Viri and Tellira bargained for food, but the bargaining seemed very odd to Shioni. First, Viri offered all the nectar they had. The Yellow Fiuri praised their generosity and promptly refused the gift. Viri twisted their wings, so to speak, until the Yellows accepted several gourds of valuable nectar, whereupon they plied the travellers with gifts of their own–crystal jewellery and singing flowers and other trinkets.
All too soon, Shioni was rolled up in a hammock flower. A Yellow Fiuri stood guard nearby. Apparently, dangerous allergies were not allowed when one was being hauled off to Lord Tazaka. She thought she would be too excited to sleep, but that was the last Shioni remembered until Iri woke her in the morning, to a chirping chorus of Fiuri children who had gathered to stare at the visitors.
Ashkuriel scattered the children with one of his trademark snarls.
At breakfast–more nectar, of course–Viridelle briefed the group. Only Ashkuriel, two of his Yellow soldiers, and the Hunter Tellira had travelled through the Cracks to the inner Fiuri caverns. “You must stick closer than my wings,” Viri said. “Char can focus our wards and shields better if we’re close. Fiuri travel through the Cracks all the time, but it is hazardous. Shionelle–no tangling with the plant or animal life. Assume that anything we meet, wants to eat you.”
Shioni turned pink and stared at her toes.
Viri added, “Expect change, landslides and mist. Drivers, obey my commands or you’ll end up in the belly of a Purple Chomper, and I don’t want to be the one to have to cut you out. It’s vile. We have three days in the Cracks. Let’s focus on safety.”
Soon, the inhabited parts of Cave Fourteen lay far to the rear. The Vermilion Dragonflies droned on and on. Despite Ashkuriel’s insistence on an early start, it was near lunchtime of their uninterrupted flight before the landscape suddenly changed. Dramatic, depthless ravines sawed into the tunnel’s sides, while the vegetation grew wild and tangled, sprouting and trailing from every possible surface and crevice. Huge, slow-moving insects crawled along the cavern walls, great beasts with shining, armoured carapaces and serrated mandibles comfortably large enough to snap up a Vermilion Dragonfly for a snack, let alone a Fiuri.
The drone of the Vermilion Dragonflies’ wings deepened as Viridelle directed them through a region of spiders with bodies as large as Fiuri houses, whose vast, glistening webs seemed intent on binding together great floating islands of rock and vegetation. Floating islands? Shioni flicked her wings in excitement, drawing an angry exclamation from the hindmost soldier on their dragonfly.
“No flying off!” he rapped.
“I’m not … don’t you see? Those islands are floating in the air!”
“Islands?” inquired Char, whipping out his notebook. “Another new word …”
Shioni threw over her shoulder, “How does rock float?”
“The plants produce gas, which–”
Char’s reply was cut off by Viridelle yelling, “Change direction! Follow me!”
Somehow, Shioni expected from the booming sound for an avalanche to fall from overhead. Instead, wind blasted her white hair sideways. The Vermilion Dragonflies turned on their tails and shot upward, jinking and dodging through a hail of rocks and dust. How could they even see to fly? Shioni held on white-knuckled as their mount rolled and jerked–had something struck its tail? Abruptly, they burst free of the avalanche. Huge boulders, dislodged by the blast, tumbled between the larger floating islands.
Chardal said wryly, “The plants produce gas, which under the wrong conditions can explode, Shionelle.”
“Everyone alright?” called Viridelle.
“Just a small cut,” said the Fiuri driver of Ashkuriel’s dragonfly.
Shioni eyed the golden blood dripping
from his elbow. If she was so certain that golden blood was strange, what colour ought it to be? Once more, her mind remained as stubbornly blank as the unused pages of Char’s notebook, which were rapidly being filled up by the weird sayings of a four-winged freak of a White Fiuri.
“Move on,” said Ashkuriel.
“He should bind the cut before the blood attracts predators,” Viridelle countered.
Iri pointed. “Too late, sister. That thing looks hungry.”
“And its friends,” said Shioni, pointing to her left. Several long, streamlined shadows sliced through the dust and rubble in their wake with ominous intent. Grey and pointed at the front, their rear ends terminated in a thicket of red-tipped quills which looked as deadly and poisonous as they most likely were. Six pairs of grey fins along their flanks propelled the creatures through the air with a lazy yet powerful swimming motion.
“Trust us Hunters,” said Viri, rather sharply, but Shioni saw that her face had become pinched. “I didn’t know Saqubids grew that large, Tellira?”
“Evasive manoeuvers!” he snapped.
“Right, every Fiuri, let’s show these pests a clean pair of wings,” Viri ordered. “Saqubids are pack hunters. Watch out for an ambush ahead.”
At once, the Dragonflies shot away between the floating Islands, skimming close to the leafy surfaces, but not too close. Plants adorned with tentacles and jaws and razor-edged leaves waved toward them as they whizzed by. Viridelle changed direction with dizzying frequency. Chardal wove spells that knocked several of the pursuing animals out of action. But each time Shioni looked over her shoulder, the grey shadows had moved closer.
A wild race ensued. Nipping around corners. Ducking into vine-tangled ravines. Screaming through ever-narrowing gaps between the floating islands. The Vermilion Dragonflies, goaded on by their drivers, drove forward with a high-pitched whine of their wings. The wind whipped Shioni’s hair around her face and pummelled her wings, hurting the muscles of her back, until Chardal kindly showed her how to tuck her wings down, out of harm’s way.
Shioni bit her lip. Surely any Fiuri worth her wings should know that?
Onward they raced, bolting for the safety of the mists, still several hours’ flying ahead.
Viridelle led the group of five Vermilion Dragonflies confidently through a honeycomb maze of tunnels before they ducked down a long, narrow ravine filled with spiky plants that released clouds of noxious yellow gases into the air, but only after the speeding Dragonflies had passed by.
“And a sharp right at the end!” shouted the Hunter.
Taking the turn at a speed that threatened to tear Shioni’s head off her neck, she heard a scream! A wet splat! Grey-and-red quills rained down on the travellers. Their driver yanked the reins hard, narrowly escaping the spring-loaded jaws of a plant with tooth-edged leaves filled with gluey, jelly-like cushions clearly designed to trap flying creatures. Iridelle’s Dragonfly was stuck! The Fiuri yelled and waved their weapons, desperately trying to cut themselves free of the plant as its leaf began to curl shut over their heads.
“Saqubid! Dead ahead!” shouted Chardal.
Quills sprayed thickly at their faces. The driver ducked, screaming as a sharp quill pinned him in the shoulder. Shioni, to her enormous surprise, beat two flying quills out of the air with the help of the crystalline cast on her arm. Leaping hyenas, was she that fast? A third grazed her cheek on the way past and pegged into Chardal’s backpack, held out in self-defence.
“By all the nectar I’ve never drunk,” he moaned, pulling the spear-sized spine out of his backpack.
Her body knew what to do. As the grey monsters moved in, some threatening with their spines while others flipped about to snap at the Fiuri with their narrow, toothy beaks, Shioni lifted the Saqubid quill out of Char’s hand, saying, “I’ll need that.”
One Saqubid swallowed a Yellow soldier’s sword up to his elbow, while another aimed a bite at Iridelle’s head.
“Iri!” Shioni shouted. “Watch out!”
She hacked desperately at the ropes pinning her to the saddle. Free! Shioni dived sideways off the Vermilion Dragonfly’s back before she remembered she had wings. Fluttering, spinning, venting a wordless scream of rage, she rode the quill like a lance and slammed it perfectly into the Saqubid’s black eye. The creature shuddered, releasing its bite on Iridelle’s arm. Shioni somersaulted in the air. Control the wings, silly! She buzzed down to Iridelle.
“Here, Iri, I’ll cut you free.”
“Don’t touch the glue,” she warned. “Thanks, little petal.”
Shioni sliced rapidly around Iri’s right wing and shoulder, freeing her from the sticky cushion which had trapped her sword-arm. With just a little sawing, Iridelle managed to free her sword and hacked angrily at the plant. Three Saqubids gnawed and snapped at Iri’s Dragonfly, but Shioni managed to pull her friend free, and then helped her free two trapped Yellow Fiuri.
“Shoot the eyes!” called Viridelle, doing exactly that.
Two Saqubids slumped, their wings falling still. Iri shoved them away with a muscular heave. “Let’s get this Dragonfly out,” she called to the soldiers.
As they worked, Shioni saw Ashkuriel’s Vermilion Dragonfly nipping beneath them to attack the remaining Saqubids. Most had already lost interest in the travellers–they seemed more eager to feast on their dead or injured fellow-creatures. Shortly, the soldiers freed the trapped Dragonfly and the group slowly pulled themselves back into the saddle. But Shioni saw they were two less in number, while a number of the Fiuri had bites or injuries from the Saqubids’ quills.
“We’ll fly on to the mists and rest there,” Viri ordered. “I’ll need to find the scent-markers for the trail ahead, and we can tend our wounded. Wrap any bleeding with cloth, lest we attract any more predators.”
“Any of the five pupillion possible creatures which would like to eat Shionelle, right?” said Char, earning himself glares from both Shioni and Ashkuriel.
“A ‘pupillion’?” said Iri, her green eyes flying wide. “That has to be the most enormous number … bigger than all of Fiuriel!”
“It’s not a number, pollen-brain,” sighed Viri.
“Char’s just yanking your antennae,” said Shioni.
“The expression is, ‘Tugging your wings’,” Char corrected her, swatting Shioni on the shoulder with his notebook.
Iridelle pouted at Chardal. “Mind I don’t use that notebook to scrape the mush out of your brain, scholar-boy.”
As the battered dazzle of Vermilion Dragonflies set off through the Cracks once more, Viri teased Chardal about relying on the ‘mighty Hunter Shionelle’ to protect him. Poor Char seemed in danger of exploding from embarrassment.
Then, they became aware of distant thunder.
Chapter 13: Saving the Enemy
AN EARTHQUAKE-orchestra accompanied the travellers into the mists of the central Cracks. They flew for a day through a world of wildly-tumbling rocks and islands, which crashed into and ground against each other as though the clinging mist were a soup being stirred ever so slowly by an unseen ladle the size of a tunnel. Deep groans resounded in the dim murk, together with the occasional deafening ‘CRAAACK!’ of rock splitting under some unimaginable strain. A faraway roaring came to their ears, as if a thousand waterfalls had chosen to thunder at once.
The unseen disturbance agitated the mists, rousting many animals and insects out of their hiding places. Viri had to backtrack numerous times. They fled from deadly swarms of Sword-Bats and dodged the lunge of an eel-like monster from a ravine, a creature so enormous it could have swallowed half of Sherfiuri Ball in one gulp.
Shioni heard Tellira mutter that he had never seen the Cracks so stirred up. But when he advised Ashkuriel to turn back, the Yellow Fiuri only grew enraged. He hissed, “Lord Tazaka awaits the pleasure of Shionelle’s company.”
Listening to the faraway thundering, Shioni responded, “It sounds like Cave-Crawlers fighting on the surface.”
Ashkuriel almost
tore her antennae off for that comment.
As the Yellow Fiuri turned himself an impressive shade of puce yelling at her, Shioni realised, with an unexpected pang, that he was scared. Spilling his nectar gourd, quaking in his pointy-toed soldier boots, scared. Ugh–now she was feeling sympathy for Ashkuriel? Somebody slap her with a Glue-Slap plant!
Viri and Tellira conferred in low tones. The younger Hunter said, “I don’t like this, Tellira. The trail is too old.”
Tellira pulled his antennae worriedly. “Ashkuriel won’t wait. It’s our only option, but it takes us into the Sunward sponge tunnels.”
Thunder boomed, shaking the air around them. Shioni distinctly felt the concussion punch her body, and the Vermilion Dragonflies screeched unhappily.
“Won’t the tunnels collapse with all this shaking?” Viri muttered.
The senior Hunter nodded. “We can only try.”
He looked harried. Shioni glanced at Viridelle. A sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead.
They did not stop for sleep time, for the two Hunters judged it too dangerous. For a time the Vermilion Dragonflies flew on through an endless void, before they ducked into a deep, jagged ravine filled with barrel-sized plants on either wall which flung their sticky purple fronds against Char’s shield as they flew by. Shioni realised that they were close to ‘that place’–the surface–when she observed a number of the Yellow soldiers and drivers making hand-signs meant to ward off evil.
The mists swirled about them, dense and rank-smelling. Viri led them by smell–a Hunter secret, which Char quietly explained involved laying a scent-trail only members of the Hunters Guild knew how to follow. Shioni nodded pensively, wiping her damp nose. Everything was moist. Her hair stuck to her cheeks and wings, and her clothes clung clammily to her body. For the first time since waking with no memory of her past, she felt chilled.
“Chiribui?” offered Viri, tossing a gourd to the White Fiuri. “It’ll crisp the petals of your heart.”