The Shards

by Gary Alan Wassner

  By the beginning of the third week, they had not seen anyone for days. Traveling became more difficult as they entered the hills. Shelter was harder and harder to come by, and the territory they covered was less forgiving. By the end of the third week, the hills gave way to rocky, dry mountains that were irregularly shaped and rose incredibly high into the cloudless blue skies. Though they were red in color, they were not made of clay but rather of layers of rock that seemed to have been placed one atop another like a stack of griddle cakes. These stacks dotted the sky in all directions and they had to maneuver their way around and between them in order to continue on. In some cases, they needed to climb these slippery sided peaks for it was impossible to find a pass, and the climbing was onerous and painstaking upon both the horses and the women.

  Tamara nurtured the fire that Angeline had just started, and gazed upward at the top of one of the larger of the pinnacles that towered overhead. The afternoon sun was partially hidden behind it, and the shadow that the peak cast stretched nearly across the plateau upon which they sat. The sisters allowed their ponies to graze freely, knowing that they would find whatever they could to munch upon and never wander off too far, while they planned their course for the days ahead.

  “If we continue on this way, it will take us much longer than we expected to reach the swamps,” Tamara said.

  “At least it is dry here,” Angeline said, shuddering at the thought of what lay ahead. “Is there no other route we can take but through those wretched bogs?” she asked.

  “You don’t know that they are so awful, sister. More often than not, the tales that grow around places such as these are exaggerated and do not resemble the truth of the matter in the slightest,” Tamara responded, seeking to soothe her companion’s concerns, though her own were no less troublesome. “First though, we must pass through the Valley of Desolation. Right at this moment, that thought concerns me more than the bogs,” she said. “Why must people name these places so? Are they not bad enough in and of themselves? If it were called the Valley of the Sun or the Valley of Heroes or some such more positive name I really think I could bear the idea of it better.”

  “It is just a name sister,” Angeline reminded her, though she too found the title disconcerting. “As long as we have enough water and supplies, the idea of crossing through a barren valley no matter what it is called is much more appealing to me than wading through the swamps beyond it. I would rather be able to see what my feet encounter than have to imagine what it is that is brushing against my legs!” Angeline replied, and chilled at the thought.

  They sat upon a precipice overlooking what appeared to be a chasm perhaps one hundred feet in depth at the least. Tamara dangled her feet over the edge, while Angeline remained safely back a few paces from the precipitous rim. She found it very uncomfortable to gaze over the brink and it even caused her to cringe at Tamara’s boldness and lack of fear.

  The hole in the ground before them was somewhat regular in shape and about fifty feet in diameter. The massive rocks that lined it were broken in geometrical patterns, and it was obvious that the edges were continuing to break away and fall into the depths as the years passed. Much like the surface of an egg that is cracked inward in one spot and still stuck fast to the rest of the shell, the huge slabs of red rock hung suspended from the edge in straight edged blocks, while still others had detached themselves from the surface and had fallen down, forming gargantuan piles of stacked rocks upon the floor of the hole. Some of the boulders lining the rim had substantial cracks in them too, and it was almost possible to imagine which one would be the next to break off and careen into the pit. Over time, trees and shrubbery had sprouted in the morass below, and at least two of these unusual, scraggly ones had reached high enough to break the surface with their topmost branches and leaves, twisting and bending maze-like as they headed for the top.

  “What could have caused this area to cave in so?” Tamara asked, leaning over the edge precariously, casually unbothered by the sheer drop.

  “I certainly do not know, and if I were you I would not venture so close. You may slip and then where would our quest be?” she asked nervously. Angeline was unsure of whether it bothered her more for Tamara to be leaning into the chasm than if she were doing it herself. “Please, sister, back away a bit if only to ease my mind.”

  “Does it disturb you that much?” she replied.

  “Yes, you cannot imagine. For those who have no fear of heights, it is impossible for them to understand the feelings that one who does experiences. I practically swoon when you do that.”

  Tamara put her hands beside her and began to push herself backward, at least enough to relieve the tension in her friend’s expression. As she did so, she looked behind her to make sure that she was not going to slide her ample bottom onto anything sharp, and she noticed what looked to be a swarm of insects heading in their direction from the east. There was a dark cloud, irregular in shape, that was moving steadily toward them as she watched.

  “Sister? Do you see what is approaching?” she asked Angeline calmly.

  Angeline straightened her back and looked in the direction that Tamara indicated with her outstretched hand.

  “I do, sister. It is too dark to be a storm could. It is pitch as night!” she observed, scrutinizing it as closely as she could.

  “And it changes shape as it moves,” Tamara commented, watching it closely herself. “Only a moment ago it was much more elongated. Now, it seems to be fattening up a bit.”

  “It is most certainly alive, sister! Or at least it is composed of things that are alive. No wind is causing it to assemble so,” she replied, touching her index finger to her tongue to moisten it and then holding it up to the air.

  “Yes, Angeline, I agree. And we appear to be directly in its path,” Tamara replied as she looked around her for some shelter. “There does not seem to be anywhere we can go to conceal ourselves.”

  “We don’t know that it is dangerous in any way. Maybe it will dissipate and not come this way at all,” Angeline replied optimistically.

  “Wishful thinking, my friend. I fear that we may be its sole purpose for being here to begin with,” Tamara rejoined ominously.

  “Why? Do you believe it to be more intelligent than the sum of its parts? It looks to be a swarm of bees or flies or the like.”

  “Here? An innocent swarm of flies so thick that we can see it from this distance? I think we had best assume otherwise, sister. What we carry with us will surely be desirous to others as well. We cannot sit here and wait to find out!” Tamara said, and she rose from her sitting position as if she was a lightweight young maiden.

  Angeline did not need another warning to follow. She too stood up on her long, muscular legs, shouldered her bow and arrows and began to scan the horizon for an alternative to where they now stood unprotected. But alas, her sharp eyes could spot nothing either that would afford them a means of protection.

  “We appear to have wandered to a place that is the least conducive to hiding, sister,” she said calmly, although her body was poised for action.

  “Yes, sister. It seems that we have indeed,” Tamara replied calmly, though her insides were churning.

  They both watched with growing interest as the cloud approached them, hoping upon hope that it would pass them by, and quite unsure as to how to defend themselves against it if they should actually be its target.

  “We can conceal ourselves by stirring up the dirt and debris around us,” Tamara said. “But the ground is so barren and rocky, I am afraid that there is not enough of anything loose upon it to hide even one of us successfully,” she observed with a slightly more desperate tone in her voice.

  Angeline had moved even further away from the edge of the pit that bothered her so, while Tamara had done just the opposite. She realized that the hole in the earth was perhaps the only place they could hide, and she was walking slowly toward it to see if there was even one edge that they could step down over without careening into th
e chasm.

  “I cannot, sister!” Angeline shouted as if she had guessed what her friend was contemplating. “You would have to blindfold me and knock me out before I could get even as close to the edge of that as you are now!”

  “What choice have we, sister?” she asked as she paced the perimeter carefully. “I would rather take my chances down below than up here. Whatever that is…” she said, pointing to the approaching darkness, “…it is surely coming our way. And I have a very bad feeling about it!”

  “Sister, I am petrified! I cannot do this,” Angeline replied. “Is there no other option?”

  “None that I can see,” Tamara responded, searching all the while for the best place to begin their descent.

  “You must help me then,” Angeline said, struggling to reconcile herself to the idea. “I am embarrassed that I am behaving this way sister, but truly I would not be if I could help it. Heights are my greatest weakness,” she confessed abjectly and solemn.

  “No one of us is perfect, sister. I have so many weaknesses that I could not even claim one to be my greatest,” Tamara replied humbly. “Now come to me and do not look down. I think that I have found a place where we can safely step,” she said reaching out her hand in support.

  Angeline moved carefully toward her and clasped her friend’s outstretched fingers firmly. Together they approached the precipice.

  “Look! Over here, as I suspected. The surface is soft where the vegetation grows and I can dig my boot into it. We can also use the branches to hold on to. They seem securely anchored in the earth,” Tamara said as she tugged upon the protruding twigs with her free hand. “I will go first, but you must not resist when I call you. Wait though until I am certain that the ground will hold me. If it can sustain my weight, you have nothing to fear,” she said smiling, despite the circumstances.

  Angeline took a deep breath and then reluctantly released Tamara’s hand. The sky had darkened considerably in the last few minutes, and both women were sure that they could hear a buzzing sound in the air though it did not sound exactly like any insects they recognized. The noise chilled them both to the bone, and that made it easier for Angeline to gather the courage to confront her fear. There was something so menacing in the air that she could practically reach out and touch it. By now, she had no doubt that this horror was coming for them, and the chasm before her suddenly loomed quite clearly as the better of the two alternatives.

  “There seem to be many crevices down here into which we can step. It is far better than I hoped!” Tamara shouted from just below the surface. “Come now. Use the same places that I used. They are no longer slippery and your feet are smaller than mine. You should have no problem,” she encouraged.

  Angeline slowly but surely inched her way toward the edge. She crouched down and used both her hands to stabilize herself as she backed one leg over the side. Tamara’s strong hands grabbed her foot and placed it securely onto the first footing, wedging it deep into the soft but solid soil.

  “The next one is just below to the left a bit. You can do it, Angeline! It really is not as difficult as it seems. Just don’t look down,” she said.

  “I am alright, sister,” Angeline replied. “If you could see what I see now, I think you would understand that down here is where I would rather be!” she said, as a heavy and unnatural darkness quickly enveloped the entire area, shutting what was left of the sunlight off almost completely. “We must hurry now, sister. The noise up here is almost unbearable!”

  Tamara needed no further prodding in order to increase her pace. Quickly, she reached with her leg for the next crevice and stepped firmly upon it, and Angeline followed as deftly as a mountain goat, surprising herself and her friend as well. The two maidens disappeared into the depths of the hole, obscured by both the safety of the darkness reaching out to them from below as well as by the blackness that menacingly descended upon them from above.

  “Step lively Tamara,” Angeline urged as the more sprightly maiden scurried down the sheer wall of the pit almost on to the head of her friend.

  “You seem to have regained your nerve, sister,” Tamara replied, while at the same moment she searched the wall for another place to insert her toe.

  “The darkness is both a boon as well as a fearful enemy, sister. The dread of it propels me downward while it conceals the precipice that initiated my concern.”

  “Do not be too thankful, Angeline. The noise grows louder. Even in this gloom we may not be able to evade what hunts us down,” she said balefully.

  In fact, the buzzing sound was increasing in volume although it was impossible to see or feel anything other than the cool air wafting upon them from below. There was no question that the noise was descending faster than they were, and at their current pace whatever was causing it would soon be upon them.

  Tamara continued to step as quickly as she could without even thinking about where this drop might ultimately lead them. It was their only option and she chose it willingly. Now though, it occurred to her that the darkness that cloaked them coupled with their enemy’s pursuit might be more than they had bargained for. She could see nothing whatsoever either above her or below her, and the only sound she could decipher in the gloom was the incessant droning of the enemy.

  A shudder coursed through her body unbidden, and Tamara suddenly grew terribly worried.

  “Are you with me still, sister?” she called up to Angeline. Her call was greeted by silence. “Angeline? Can you hear me?” she asked again, hesitating in mid stride this time, but only the sound of buzzing reached her ears in response.

  Tamara frantically began to claw her way back up in search of her companion.

  “Where are you? You must be here or I would have felt you pass me by. What is it that prevents you from answering me?” she cried.

  She heard a scraping sound just above her head and she stretched out to touch it believing that it must be her friend’s foot, but her hand came in to contact with something thoroughly repulsive, something totally unexpected, and she withdrew it in fear and disgust. Her hand felt as if it was on fire. As she retracted her arm, an abominable odor reached her nostrils causing her to wretch momentarily in response, and she could feel her fingers sticking together, coated by a slimy substance that would not yield to her pressure when she attempted to separate them. Panic began to grip her and she forced herself to breathe deeply and relax, though her heart was beating twice as fast as normal. She held on to the wall precariously with her free hand and she dug her feet deeper into the crevices in the wall.

  Tamara knew how important the scroll that she carried was, and for a fleeting moment she hesitated before reaching out again. She could suddenly feel the parchment against her body, and it struck her instantly that her awareness of it was generated by the object itself as if it had a mind and spirit of its own. But in her heart, nothing was more important than life after all, and she could not sacrifice her friend even for this. Tamara fought the impulse to protect the map, and she refused even to reach her hand inside her tunic to touch it, though it seemed to beckon so saliently. She climbed up another notch and held fast to the wall with her clean hand. She then turned her concentration inward. Using the same power that she used to conjure a glowing orb out of the surrounding air, she caused a great heat to rise in her fingers, though it neither hurt nor burned her skin. Within seconds the slime that had adhered to her fingers began to sizzle and fall away in liquid-like droplets. The instant her fingers were clean, she turned this energy into light rather than heat, and her hand glowed as if it was illuminated from within, and it cast a cleansing radiance upon the entire area. She was unconcerned at this point if she revealed her own position. Angeline’s welfare was at stake!

  She squinted in the semi-darkness, hoping to avoid the temporary blindness that she feared would accompany this blaze of light, and what she saw through her half opened eyes horrified her. Angeline was coated from head to toe by a seedling cloak of muck that oozed and churned all over her. It gliste
ned as her light reflected off of its iridescent surface, and it seemed to withdraw from the touch of the light as if it was being attacked by it. The surface area closest to her glowing hand thinned considerably as she watched aghast, though Angeline’s skin remained coated nonetheless.

  Tamara could see that her friend was breathing beneath this repulsive cocoon, and she was grateful for that at least, though it provided her with only a moment of comfort. Frantically, she considered what she could possibly do, and the frustration that she encountered as she realized just how limited her experience was in this regard almost paralyzed her completely. When Angeline’s eyes locked upon her own and she saw the fear and the plea for help in them, all of her thoughts receded and her instinct took over.

  With the fury of a Moulant protecting its own, Tamara allowed the light to fade abruptly. She no longer needed it in order to see what was before her. Suddenly she became conspicuously aware of the soil that she clung to with her other hand, as if the life within it was calling out to her. She manipulated the organic matter in ways she did not even understand, and it coalesced at her mind’s touch. Changing shape and structure at her command, the particles realigned themselves and formed a sheathe of a coarse though giving substance that draped the sheer wall directly in front of her. This fabric-like matter beckoned to her senses, and she responded as if she had done this a thousand times before, instantly recognizing an affinity that now seemed to have been there all along.

  Tamara kneaded it with the fingers of her free hand, not knowing entirely why, and it began to elongate and thin out like the dough of a bread. She could barely see anything in the darkness, but within her head she was certain that the image she focused upon was as accurate as any visual impression could possibly have been. Having only the use of one hand, since the other held her fast to the wall and prevented her from plummeting into the depths below, she was growing impatient and anxious, not to mention fatigued. Fortunately, the material that was coagulating before her was surprisingly receptive to her touch and incredibly buoyant. She spun it around as if it was a child’s toy top, using her fingers to bat at it and thus increase its velocity. It began to spin and spin, faster and faster. Within seconds, it started to fan out in a funnel shape, narrower at the bottom while it grew wider at the top, and swiftly it rose upward, first covering Angeline’s slime encased feet and then inching its way deliberately toward her head.