The Hundred: Fall of the Wents

by Prescott, Jennifer

  At this rate, stumbling and cursing, they would never make the crossing before nightfall. And even then, they had no idea where to go once on the other side of the River Hollis. They had a name: Pomplemys—but neither a direction nor a map. After some time they realized that they would have to abandon the quest for now and make shelter.

  At Aarvord’s lead, they turned away from the riverside and toward the dark brow of a small evergreen forest. The snow was falling more lightly and, in the light of the heat-candles, the flakes were fat and sluggish. The blossoms on Elutia’s head were like little cups that held the snow. Tully’s face was covered with icy crystals that looked like stars on his scales, and his antennae were puffy with snow. He shimmered in the candlelight. He patted his vest once, looking for the familiar shape of Copernicus, before remembering with a jagged lurch that the snake was not there. Copernicus was lost.

  They reached the forest before the light faded completely and managed to find a few sticks to build a proper fire—easily lit by one of the heat-candles. Under the protection of the evergreen trees, the snow stopped completely. Although they had nothing to eat, the little fire was comforting. Aarvord had gently laid Elutia down by the fireside, and suddenly she stirred and rose up, touching the blossoms that framed her face.

  “I had a terrible dream,” she began, and then looked around to see where she was.

  “Don’t worry,” Tully spoke up. “You’re safe now. That Shrike is gone.”

  Elutia shook her head. “He did what they all do,” she said. “But he was the kindest of all of them. It was much worse the last time it happened.”

  “They did that to you…often?” said Tully, outraged. He had suffered the same, although he had not known what it was. But she should have never suffered.

  “Hush!” roared Aarvord. “You are tiring the poor child. Do you think she wants to dwell on these things?”

  Tully sank back, ashamed.

  “I am fine now,” said Elutia, bravely. “I told you I chose it willingly.” She looked around. “Where are the rest of us? Where is the little snake?”

  Tully lowered his head and said nothing and it was then that he felt Elutia enter his mind, just for an instant. That was all she needed to learn the truth; she exited as quickly as she had arrived.

  “Oh,” she said. “I am so very sorry.”

  “The bee is gone too,” said Aarvord gruffly. “We thought that he might find a way across the river, which was a foolish notion. Coper….”—and Aarvord found himself suddenly unable to say the snake’s name. It was as if a stone had lodged in his throat. He turned his great head away from the firelight and gazed into the darkness of the forest. If only, he thought, there had been more time to reconcile their friendship before Copernicus vanished forever. Well, he had Tully still, and he would never betray him or abandon him again. Not even for a moment.

  “Are you hungry?” asked Aarvord. “I’m sorry that we don’t have anything for you.”

  Elutia shook her head. “No,” she said. “I know this sounds strange, but the Shrikes’ treatment of me makes me less reliant on ordinary food. I can draw nourishment from the soil.”

  As she said this, she seemed slightly ill at ease and Tully noticed that, as she sat by the fire, she had worked her feet through the thin layer of snow into the dirt around the flames, so that the ragged tendrils they had torn from the pot in the Shrikes’ stronghold were hidden.

  “No matter!” said Aarvord with false joviality. “You are better off than we are, then, eh Tully?”

  Tully was not hungry, so the conversation did not interest him much. He could never eat again. He could starve. None of it mattered. A small logical part of him did know that they had to eat, though. They had to, or Elutia would not be able to go on. She was still not strong enough to walk on her own.

  Aarvord had clearly taken a protective attitude toward Elutia. It made sense, as he was the only one large and strong enough to carry her. Tully felt a small surge of jealousy as he watched Aarvord offer Elutia a palmful of melted snow in his huge hand—made effortlessly cup-like by the machinations of his body. Slightly self-consciously, she bent to drink it, and then said: “It’s very kind of you. But I can get that from the soil as well.”

  “Ah, of course,” huffed Aarvord.

  “Elutia, where are you from?” asked Tully. “How did you—how were you captured by the Shrikes?”

  “I could tell you,” she said carefully. “But that would take time. And I don’t even know how to tell it properly. Would you like me to show you?”

  Tully nodded. Aarvord said: “I would like that.”

  “Very well,” said Elutia. “I can share this with both of you at once, if you like.”

  Tully and Aarvord exchanged a glance and both nodded together.

  Chapter Twelve: The Veldstack Herd

  Elutia closed her eyes and tucked her head down toward the fire. In the next instant Tully felt what seemed to be a great wave of memory and sensation. There was a scene before him and he was not an observer, but a participant. They were in a garden at a Dream-Day party. It was the very end of summer, and the heat was intense and stifling. The garden contained a small kidney-shaped pond in its center, near which grew a Meal-Apple tree.

  Aarvord stood off to the side, his back against a tree. Elutia was younger than she was now and dressed in the simple white sheath that all Wents wore in warmer climates. She was dancing around a table laden with fruits, pitchers of water, and a Went-cake studded with white flowers. Elutia was the liveliest little Went that Tully had ever seen, and she had a mischievous cast to her eye. She was quite young, he realized, probably no more than ten. It was pleasant to see her so happy and energetic.

  An Ell flew in and alighted on Elutia’s shoulder. It was blue-winged and small, like all Ells, and its wings hummed constantly.

  “Ghrifea!” she sighed. “What have you brought me?” This last was said with a trace of petulance, and Tully realized that Elutia had been spoiled and coddled in her youth.

  “Naughty thing!” said Ghrifea. “Always asking for something.” The Ell brushed against her cheek lightly and then was off, buzzing over to a more mature Went and a grizzled and grey-scaled Eft, who were both standing by the food table. There was another Went there as well, who stood off to the side, as if she were watching the scene along with Aarvord and Tully.

  This other Went turned and Tully saw with a shock that it was Hindrance. She looked much younger and with more joy in her eyes. Tully made a move to go toward her but realized that her eyes looked right through him. She could not see him in this memory.

  The older Eft held out his arms for the young Went and she ran to him. “Polifero!” she cried, with delight. “Everyone is here.” The Eft held her tightly, although she was already a head taller than he was.

  “Happy dream day,” said Polifero. “Do you like your party?”

  “Very much,” said Elutia. “Brackenspur planned it all and it’s lovely.”

  “Although planning surprises—with this one—never works very well,” said Brackenspur, the older Went who stood with Polifero, with a trace of admonishment. “She keeps prying into my head.”

  “Didn’t mean to,” pouted Elutia. “Couldn’t help it.”

  “Maybe you will learn to control that gift, little one,” said Polifero.

  “I’ve made you something,” said Brackenspur gently, and she handed Elutia a small wooden box. Tully felt a shock of recognition. Someone had made gifts for Elutia just as Hindrance had for him! The young Went smiled and her whole face seemed to glow, the tiny blossoms rimming her face a vivid white in the sunshine. She took the box and tossed it into the air and it made a merry chiming sound that was remarkably similar to that of the box in which Copernicus—and Nizz—had been lost.

  “I’ll figure this one out quickly!” said Elutia.

  Brackenspur laughed. “You will find it harder than last year’s puzzle!” she said. “I worked on it while you slept, so that you couldn�
�t peek into its secrets. And I promise,” she added, touching the tip of Elutia’s nose, “that I won’t think a bit about it until you’ve solved it all on your own!”

  Elutia gave her small mischievous grin and Brackenspur laughed again, clearly delighted with the little Went. Hindrance watched all of this, the delights of the others mirrored on her face.

  It is almost as if Elutia is hers, thought Tully. Hindrance’s own child. But this could not be so. Brackenspur, Ghrifea, and Polifero together appeared to be Elutia’s own parents. He was watching something that he had never personally experienced: A Triling family, with all three parents complete.

  As quickly as it had taken for Tully to think of this, and as Elutia tossed the puzzle box high in the air again, the first of the bombs exploded. It was only then, with a chill that belied the intense heat of the day, that he understood where he was and when he was. He was in the city of his birth. It was the day of his birth. And the Small War had begun.

  As the bomb exploded, somewhere very close by but out of sight, the merry scene in the garden collapsed in disorder and fear. Someone screamed from beyond the walls—a high-pitched and terrible sound. Brackenspur drew Elutia to her chest and ducked down fearfully, while Ghrifea buzzed and hummed over Elutia’s head, helpless to do anything but comfort her. Polifero, who had fought in previous wars, was not with them: He was climbing the wall to get a better sight on the destruction. A hardened soldier, Polifero would be massing troops within the hour to wage war against the Dualing armies.

  Hindrance looked up at the sky. Her eyes sought out Elutia in the crowd, but she did not move.

  Tully ran across the garden to Aarvord. The big Grout reached out a paw and Tully took it.

  “Hold tight,” said Aarvord. “It is just a memory, no more than a dream.”

  And Tully felt himself safe again. He could not die in this memory.

  Another bomb exploded and something rained down into the garden, destroying the carefully assembled table of sweets and other food. A black craft hummed overhead, no doubt manned by Dualing soldiers. This was why he had always hated the Dualings, thought Tully. They destroyed everything that was good! But then he looked up at his friend Aarvord’s sad face, and understood that none of this senselessness mattered. In 27 days the war would be over. He knew that, but none of these once-happy creatures did.

  A host of Boring Bees roared up from behind the garden wall and formed a flying machine much like the one that had carried Tully and his friends to the north. This machine was made to carry Dualing soldiers, however. Sounds of more explosions and shrieks resounded throughout the city, and Tully could see a tall spire in the distance in flames. He recognized it as the old meeting hall not far at all from his own home. It was a wonder he had survived his own birth with this violence erupting.

  Their attention turned once again to Elutia but in the chaos of running bodies and whirring wings, it was hard to see her. Finally Tully caught sight of her small, white shift as she attempted to clamber up the garden wall by the aid of vines. (The way out was blocked by fallen rubble, and Hindrance was nowhere to be seen.)

  “Elutia!” cried Tully. “Wait!”

  Aarvord again shook his massive head to remind Tully that there was nothing they could do to change this memory. In fact, in reality, across the city, Tully was but a newborn Eftling in the arms of Kellen.

  To get a better view of what was happening, Tully and Aarvord moved across the lawn, in time to see Elutia make her way to the very top of the garden wall. She hesitated there a moment and then jumped, her white shift fluttering as she disappeared from sight.

  As she vanished from sight everything grew still, and the participants at the party, who noticed her departure, froze in a tableau of horror, fear, and chaos.

  Elutia’s voice spoke inside his mind: “It’s almost as if it’s real, isn’t it? I felt as if I were really there, and knew and loved all of them. I am sure that I must have been.”

  Before Tully could respond to her puzzling suggestion they were quite suddenly back by the fireside in the dark woods of the north. Tully looked up and saw Elutia’s face very still and composed. She was not looking at him.

  “Where did you go?” asked Tully, “What happened?”

  Elutia said: “Sssh.”

  They followed her gaze across the fire and saw in the light of the flames a pair of strong legs, russet-colored and sleek with muscle. The legs were impossibly long and at the top of them was the chest and head of a magnificently large horselike creature. A Veldstack. Its body was covered with thick, shaggy fur, no doubt to protect it against the harsh and ever-present winter.

  Leaves rustled and a second Veldstack joined the first. It dipped its head toward the fire and they could see huge, black eyes rimmed with dark lashes.

  The two Veldstacks stared at the trio. The trio stared back. The Veldstacks seemed wild, thought Tully, like creatures without the gift of speech. He had never met a Veldstack. He had seen drawings of them only, for they were quite rare. Veldstacks certainly did not exist in the city where he had spent his childhood.

  To their relief the first and larger of the two Veldstacks spoke. “Are you friends of the Shrikes?” it asked imperiously. Its voice was deep and velvety. This must be the male of the pair, thought Tully, for Veldstacks were Dualing beasts.

  Tully jumped to his feet to answer—the words “No, we hate them!” almost passed his lips—but Aarvord cautioned him with a huge paw.

  “I might ask you the same!” Aarvord said, just as imperiously.

  The Veldstack jerked its head angrily. The second Veldstack, smaller but still a giant next to Tully and his friends, spoke in a voice that was sweet and tremulous, and redolent of summer gardens and good things. Tully immediately liked her and wished to hear her speak for hours just so he could hear that delicate voice. It sent a small shiver of pleasure along his scales and into the tips of his antennae, as if an instrument had been strummed.

  “We do not support the Shrikes,” she said. “If you do, then we are enemies. The Shrikes have taken what remains of our people and turned them into work creatures. They have become nothing more than slaves.”

  “The Shrikes have destroyed our homes,” added the big male Veldstack. “They have even taken the young.”

  “We have just escaped the Shrike stronghold,” said Tully. “We are no friends of theirs.”

  The Veldstacks nodded together.

  “It is difficult to elude them,” said the female Veldstack. “How have you gotten this far?”

  “We had help,” said Aarvord.

  “And I don’t believe they’re after us,” said Tully, but the big male Veldstack shook its sleek and noble head.

  “Don’t be so sure,” he said. “They could be close, even now. It’s best that you douse this fire and keep on the move.”

  At this Elutia looked up and gave the Veldstacks a wan smile.

  “It’s because of me that we’ve stopped,” she said. “The Shrikes have…hurt me. I haven’t recovered. But I agree with you that it isn’t safe, still so close to the stronghold. I’ve seen what they can do.”

  “As have we,” said the female Veldstack. She paused. “Please, we’ve been rude. My name is Hollingworth and my partner, Burgess. We are among the last of the Veldstacks.”

  “I have never met a Veldstack before,” said Tully, somewhat awed. “But I am honored to meet you. I didn’t know that Veldstacks still existed. I am Tully, an Eft. These are Elutia and Aarvord, my friends. We had other friends with us as well but they have been lost.”

  “I am sorry,” said Hollingworth in her lovely, musical voice.

  “How many of you exist?” barged in Aarvord, unwilling to dwell too long in memories of Copernicus.

  “Very few, including those who have been taken as slaves. We were once called Great Veldstacks. Beyond the whales—and none know if even they still exist—we may be the largest beasts left on the planet.”

  It was true that most creatures wer
e small and nimble. Even a Fantastic Grout as large as Hen-Hen could not hope to measure up in size to these Veldstacks. Tully had always been told that the Great Cataclysm had killed more creatures than just the humans. It had killed the elephants, the giraffes, the hippos, and the rhinos—great beasts that had not lived long enough to give rise to further evolutionary adaptations. Things that were small and could hide in holes had a better chance. It was mostly from the smaller beasts that the world’s current population had evolved.

  “If you wish to move onward, we can help you,” said Hollingworth in her lilting voice.

  “We are actually looking to cross the river, to find someone named Pomplemys,” said Tully. “Is there a river crossing nearby that you can take us to?”

  “Pomplemys!” harrumphed Burgess. “That old, mad Eft.” He stopped, realizing that Tully was also one of the Eftish people. “Well, that is to say…he is a strange thing, Pomplemys. Holed up in his domed home for months at a time, working on this or that experiment. What could you want with him?”

  “We were told he might be able to help us,” said Tully.

  “Help you with what?” asked Hollingworth kindly.

  “We are trying to find a group of missing Wents,” explained Aarvord. “They were stolen from our city and brought here. There is some vile purpose at work.”

  “And something about the Hundred,” piped in Tully. “The Hundred are gathering.”

  At that name the Veldstacks shuddered.

  “We will help take you across the river,” said Burgess. “But we want no part in anything to do with the Hundred. Their very name is surrounded with evil.”

  “I suggest we move now,” said Hollingworth. “It is too late to cross the river tonight, but we can take you to a safer place. There will be food,” she added, seeing Tully’s pale and hungry face.

  “Come,” said Burgess. “Climb up. First her.” He nodded his head at Elutia, and Aarvord gently lifted the Went and placed her atop Hollingworth’s broad back. She clung to the shaggy pelt and mane. Next, Aarvord hoisted Tully up so that he could sit behind Elutia and steady her. The two of them together were no more weight than little children on the enormous Veldstack.