Felsafell wasted no time in tearing off the bandage. Gewey gasped at what he saw; every bit of tissue surrounding the bite had turned black, with tiny white pustules forming all along the injury itself.
Nehrutu winced several times while Felsafell attempted to clean the wound. “It looks as if this is as far as I am going, my friends.” His voice was straining through the pain, and large beads of sweat were beginning to form on his cheeks and brow.
Gewey tried again to touch the flow, but it was still useless. “Hang on,” he said. “You can make it through this.”
But the look on Felsafell’s face told him a different story.
All at once, Nehrutu’s eyes widened and his hand shot out to point at something directly behind Gewey and Felsafell.
Only then did they begin taking notice of their surroundings. The rocky clearing they were standing in was roughly circular - about one-hundred feet in diameter. One side of it was flanked by the mountain, the other by a sheer cliff more than two-hundred feet high. Directly opposite the passage from which they had fled, another path could be seen leading further north.
But it was not the landscape that had startled Nehrutu. Standing about fifty feet away from them was a massive creature, its entire body covered in thick black fur. With shoulders as broad as a bear, it stood a full head taller than Felsafell. A pig-like snout decorated the center of its dark skinned face. As if stunned, it stared at them through red eyes that were set unnaturally close together.
“Morzhash,” croaked Nehrutu. “Don’t let it escape.”
Gewey vaguely recalled Aaliyah telling him about the Morzhash when they were in the desert together. But what were they doing here?
The beast had still not made any kind of move. Gewey gripped his sword and glanced at Felsafell.
“Hurry,” pressed Nehrutu. “If it gets away, it might bring others back here.”
“It seems afraid,” whispered Felsafell.
“We can’t take a chance,” said Gewey.
Without further discussion, he raced off in the direction of the northern path. With speed astonishing for something so large, the creature did the same. But Gewey was able to block its way. Raising his blade, he prepared to strike. Aaliyah had mentioned that the Morzhash were extremely powerful and quick, so he knew that such a large beast would likely be formidable. But with Felsafell at his side, he was confident they could slay it.
The ground shook with the pounding of its paw-like feet. Felsafell was moving in behind it, though he had not yet drawn his weapon. Just when the creature was coming within reach of Gewey’s blade, it slid to a halt and spun around. At the sight of the first born, it let out a loud roar. But it was not a roar of rage or hatred. If anything, it was more akin to the sound of terror.
Felsafell halted and locked eyes with the Morzhash. It opened its mouth, but this time, instead if a roar, a defeated moan came forth. Its shoulders slumped and it dropped to its knees.
“Kill me quickly,” it said in a low, guttural voice. It bowed its head, awaiting its fate.
Gewey was dumbstruck. He lowered his weapon and looked to Felsafell, who was also clearly astonished.
“You speak,” Felsafell said.
“Of course I speak, first born,” it replied. “Now do what you must.”
Gewey was unsure what their next move should be. He could not reconcile the stories he'd been told with this submissive creature now kneeling before him.
“If you mean us no harm,” he eventually said. “Then we mean you none either.”
The Morzhash huffed a scornful laugh. “It is not I who would have captured you. Nor do I travel with an elf.” The word 'elf' came out sounding like a curse.
“You bear elves ill will?” asked Felsafell.
“They are savages. Heartless brutes who destroy anything they do not understand.”
“The elf who travels with us is not your enemy,” Felsafell told it. “He is our friend, and he is poisoned by the bite of the giant lizards which dwell within the mountain.”
A grin crept over its face, revealing small pointed front teeth and two-inch long canines. “Then when he dies, the world will be just a little bit more tolerable.”
A desperate thought suddenly flashed through Gewey's mind. This creature was obviously familiar with the lizard's deadliness.
“Do you know how to help him?” he abruptly asked.
“Perhaps. But why would I wish to do that?”
Anger rose up in Gewey at this display of stubbornness. But before he could say anything further, Felsafell stepped in.
“If you can heal him,” he said, “then I promise to release you. You will be free to go on your own way unharmed.”
“And if I refuse, you will kill me?” it asked contemptuously.
“No,” Felsafell replied. “But neither shall we let you go.”
The creature was silent for more than a minute. Then, after making a grumbling sound, it rose to its feet. “Very well.”
With huge strides and the others following, the Morzhash strode off toward the base of the cliff face where a small leather satchel lay. From this it withdrew a tiny flask.
“Do you have a name?” asked Felsafell.
“I am Cloya,” it replied. “Daughter of Menru.”
Gewey only just managed to suppress a burst of laughter. A female? What in the name of all creation must the males look like?
“Pour some of this on his wound and have him drink the rest,” Cloya continued. “He will be returned to health within a day. Until then, do not move him.”
The moment Felsafell took the flask from her hand, Cloya set off in the direction of the path.
“Wait!” Gewey demanded, barring her way. His sword was still in his hand.
Cloya halted and gave a grunt. “You break your oath?”
“I break nothing,” Gewey countered. “But Nehrutu is not yet healed. All we have is your word that what you have given to us will help him.”
Her back straightened, giving her already considerable height even more definition. “I am a yetulu, not an elf. I do not lie. Do as I say and he will live.”
“And what is to prevent you from returning with more of your kind to slaughter us?” asked Felsafell.
Cloya gave an ominous grin. “Nothing at all. But that was not the bargain, was it?”
“True,” admitted Felsafell. “Therefore, you are free to go. We will trust that you are being honest with us.” He bowed. “And we thank you.”
Gewey stared at the Morzhash for a moment longer before reluctantly sheathing his sword and stepping aside. She paused when level with him and looked down, her red eyes scrutinizing every inch of his body. Gewey met her gaze, but quickly found it difficult to maintain contact.
“I would know your name,” she said.
“Darshan,” he replied. His god name passed his lips before he realized he'd spoken it.
She chuckled. “Darshan? So you have come at last. I must admit, I expected…more. Of course, you may be lying.” She cocked her head. “We will know soon enough.”
After a final glance at Felsafell, she continued on her way to the path. Her long strides quickly had her out of sight.
Gewey and Felsafell hurried back to where Nehrutu lay. The elf’s eyes were now shut and his lips had turned a horrible grey color. Only the slight movements of his chest told that he was still alive.
The liquid inside the flask was a deep blue that reminded Gewey of the Waters of Shajir. Perhaps the mountains were the source, he speculated. It seemed likely. He continued watching while Felsafell followed Cloya's instructions and then covered Nehrutu with a blanket. This done, he headed down the path to find some firewood.
He returned a short time later. “The road continues for some distance,” he told Gewey.
After a time, they both settled down to keep watch – one of them on the tunnel, the other on the path. The daylight appeared to still be keeping the lizards at bay. But soon it would be nightfall. And Cloya was sure to aler
t others of her kind to their presence.
“Do you think he’ll live?” asked Gewey.
“I think Cloya was being truthful,” Felsafell replied.
“Have you ever seen anything like her?”
He shook his head. “But it seems that she knows of my kind…and of you.”
Gewey sighed. The first born's words hung in the air, suggesting the possibility of still more mysteries and new dangers ahead. Was there never going to be an end to them all? His mind then turned to Kaylia and Jayden. Right now, had he been able to, he would have reached out to Kaylia for comfort and to hell with the consequences. But whatever was stopping the flow in this place was also making contact impossible.
He made a promise to himself. If he ever made it out of here, the very first thing he would do is join with her spirit at least once.
Once more…then he would be ready to face his destiny.
Chapter Twelve
Gewey gave a sigh of relief when the long night finally ended. Several times during the hours of darkness he had heard the hissing and scraping of the great lizards, but thankfully they remained unwilling to leave their tunnels. The thought then occurred that, in order to return to the desert, they would need to pass through the mountain again. He prayed that, before such a risk became necessary, they might discover another way back.
By morning, Nehrutu had regained much of his color and his breathing was normal. His wound no longer showed any signs of infection and was already beginning to close. Whatever the blue liquid was, it had certainly performed just as Cloya promised it would.
The shadow of the mountains cooled the air and dimmed the morning light long after the sun was high. To Gewey's eyes, there was something odd about their formation. It was as if they had been deliberately arranged to keep out intruders. Each peak was butted right up against the next one, forming a great wall that stretched for hundreds of miles east to west. Only to the north, where the range ended, did the ground start to flatten.
By the time Nehrutu opened his eyes it was almost midday. At first, he lay motionless on his back, a confused look his face. Then, with a tired groan, he sat up.
“How am I alive?” he asked, touching his arm. There was pain, but it was tolerable.
Gewey told him of their encounter with Cloya.
“If not for her, you would have surely died,” explained Felsafell.
It took a moment or two for Nehrutu to absorb what he'd been told. “And you say it spoke?” he finally asked.
“Yes,” replied Felsafell. “She did. And I might add that they do not hold your race in high regard. I suspect we have not seen the last of them.”
“The Morzhash of my land are mindless animals,” said Nehrutu. “We have never encountered any that display signs of intelligence or civilization. They raid our villages and kill without cause or remorse. If these beings are in some way related, they have no reason to hate my kind.”
“Perhaps,” said Felsafell. “But Cloya was certainly not mindless. Nor do I believe her to be a killer. Aaliyah has told me about the Morzhash of your land, but that is a name only you have chosen for them. It seems those living here refer to themselves as yetulu. And from what Cloya said, I believe there is more to the yetulu than you realize. I only hope that whatever it is they hold against your race, it can be made right....or at least, overlooked.”
“We have not wronged them, I tell you,” Nehrutu protested.
“Be that as it may,” Felsafell countered. “Cloya is not the only one of her kind who dwells here. And that means we are in their domain. It also means it is they who will decide who has been wronged, and who has not.”
The elf sighed. “There is no need to worry. If confronted, I will mind what I say. But you should know – if they are anything like the creatures of my homeland, they are immensely strong. And, in spite of their great size, very agile and quick. Should we be forced into a fight, it will not be an easy one.”
“Then let us pray it does not come to that,” said Felsafell.
Nehrutu struggled to his feet, at first holding onto Gewey’s shoulder for support. After a minute or two he stretched and groaned. Then, with a sharp nod, indicated that he was ready to depart.
The path north was well worn, and once the entrance to the mountain was out of sight, it widened considerably, allowing them to walk alongside each other. In spite of the potential danger, Felsafell thought it best to sheath their weapons.
“We do not want to appear aggressive,” he said. The others agreed.
The rocky terrain on either side of them stretched for miles before disappearing into a grey mist. Ahead, the path sloped down and curved slightly to the east. After a time, the air became warmer and humid. A few slender pine trees were even scattered about. Soon, beads of sweat were forming on Gewey’s brow.
By mid-afternoon, the landscape began to change dramatically. The trees and undergrowth had thickened to a point where it could now genuinely be considered a jungle. In terms of sheer density, Gewey was reminded a little of the Black Oasis, but without any of its ugliness or threatening atmosphere. He could sense no malice or danger here, though without the flow, he had to admit that he was basing these feelings on instinct alone.
Strange colorful birds with long curved beaks and even longer plumes called out from their high perches. Flowers of blue, pink, red and violet were everywhere, their fragrances so intense and unique that with each gust of wind, they combined to create a multitude of new and delightful scents.
He noticed that the corners of Felsafell’s mouth had turned up into a faint smile. “What’s making you so happy?” he asked.
Felsafell's smile widened. “Are you not in awe that such a place exists unknown to the rest of the world? To think that, aside from the yetulu, we are probably the first to see it in many thousands of years…if not ever. I only wish Basanti could be here to share it with me.”
The mere mention of the first born's love reminded Gewey of Kaylia, quickly diminishing the beauty around him. He felt her absence more and more keenly with each step. Only the thought that she and Jayden were safe in Theopolou’s manor kept his mind from flying apart and abandoning his quest.
“Do you fear nothing?” asked Nehrutu. His eyes had been darting back and forth ever since setting out on the path. The tension he felt was clearly displayed on his face.
Felsafell looked sideways at the elf and shrugged. “Fear? Yes, there are things I fear. I may be immortal, but I am not invulnerable. I felt fear when I confronted Melek. I felt fear when I looked upon Basanti after killing her brother. I fear what will happen to the world should we fail. I am no different from you in this way. I have simply had more time to learn how to control my emotions. Right now, I wager that your fear is deepened by being cut off from the flow. Though I have never been faced with this particular difficulty, I have felt vulnerable in other ways.”
“How did you conquer it?” Nehrutu asked.
“I did not conquer it. I used it to hone my senses and steel my resolve. Remember, fear is much like love. It can consume you if you are not cautious. But if you use it, rather than allowing it to use you, it can give you strength when you need it the most.”
The elf forced a laugh. “The same wise words I would tell a child. Yet I cannot tell them to myself. I have not been this powerless since I was young. Even facing death, the flow was always with me. To imagine that humans feel this way all the time…”
“You don’t miss what you’ve never had,” Gewey chipped in. “Before I discovered what I am, I had never felt the flow. Humans do not feel powerless. And neither do the desert elves.”
“I have occasionally questioned the wisdom of the Creator for allowing mortal creatures to wield such power,” Felsafell mused.
“Maybe she intends for everyone to wield it,” offered Gewey. “Or maybe none at all. Dina is half elf and half human, and as far as I know, she does not possess such ability. Who can say? In a few thousand years there might be only one race, with no one ho
lding power over another.”
Felsafell smiled. “I think that would definitely make for a more peaceful world.”
Nehrutu was still a bit on edge, but as the day wore on, he began to appear less nervous. With dusk approaching, they tried to find a clearing to rest up. But the undergrowth had become even denser, and Gewey thought it unwise to venture into an alien forest at night. Particularly without the flow to aid them. Nehrutu readily agreed. So without any other options, they made camp in the middle of the trail.
Undeterred by the potential dangers, Felsafell set off to explore the surrounding jungle. He returned an hour later with some fruits and a small cord of wood.
They had just started a fire when Gewey spotted a dark figure on the trail slightly north of their position. Though shrouded in the increasing darkness, its massive silhouette told him at once that it was a yetulu.
“I see it too,” whispered Felsafell, before Gewey could say a word. “Do nothing. We should allow them to come to us.”
Nehrutu laughed softly. “I doubt we have a choice. My people have tried to pursue them in our own jungles and forests. As fast and strong as you are, I think even you would have difficulty in catching them.”
Felsafell watched from the corner of his eyes as the yetulu slowly backed out of sight. “Then we shall wait and see what they intend. Until then, the two of you should try to sleep if you can.”
Gewey knew that this would be an impossibility. The uneven ground and many days of hard travel – not to mention the wounds inflicted by the giant lizard – had taken their toll. While lying on his back, the pain and stiffness in his muscles would not let him be. He hadn’t felt like this since he was a boy on his father's farm after a hard day’s work.
It occurred to him that, even when crossing the deep sands of the desert, he had felt stronger than he did right now. He had not used the flow then, but at the same time, he'd always been aware of its presence. Here, he was not. It must be a part of me, even when I am not a part of it, he mused. He thought again of his earlier discussion with Felsafell. Would life be better if all people were cut off from such power? The more he considered this, the more he thought they probably would be. Neither human nor elf had shown great wisdom when given power. Elves had abused their superior capability, and humans had felt threatened by it. Perhaps the world simply could not abide two entirely separate races of people. Perhaps a joining of the two was the only way to ensure enduring peace and happiness.
The Reborn King (Book Six) Page 15