by Kris Kramer
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Iago woke up just before sunrise with a start. He sat up and looked around, seeing the others still asleep and the fire almost dead, and he wondered with no small amount of aggravation what roused him from one of the more restful nights he’d had in a while. He rubbed his eyes and considered grabbing a few more precious moments of sleep, but the purple hue of the nighttime sky told him that he would have to get back up soon, anyway. He stretched for a moment, resting on the floor before finally deciding that now was as good a time as any to gather more wood for the fireplace.
He threw his cloak around his shoulders and stepped out of the room, closing the door quietly. He’d intended to head for the building at the east end of the settlement, where the wood was normally stored, but before he even took a step, the watchtower beckoned him. It was still dark out so he wouldn’t be able to see much, but he decided to climb up anyway and take a look. He felt like a kid every time he saw the tower, and with no one else awake yet, he wanted to go up and take advantage of the view. Being high off the ground made him feel almost normal sometimes, like he had no cares at all, and that sense of freedom was a major reason why he loved being part of the Wind Riders. No feeling in the world could compare to soaring through the sky on a Karawan and seeing the mountains below you. Standing at the top of this Happaran watchtower wouldn’t be quite the same experience, but it would still be fun.
Iago reached the base of the stone tower and opened the short wooden door. He crouched through the opening and grasped the ladder inside. It led all the way up to a hatch, which opened to the railed platform at the top. As he took his first step up, though, he froze, hearing a crooning noise in the distance that made the hairs on his neck stand up. It was a low, deep moaning, coming from the south, in the direction they’d come from last night. It could be a trick of the wind, but he didn’t believe that for a second. Some creature made that noise, human or animal. He also realized he was hearing the same thing that had woken him up.
The noise stopped abruptly. Iago stepped off the ladder and crouched down, looking out the doorway for signs of any movement nearby. He saw nothing, so he went back inside and hurried to the top, though the base of the tower was not very large around, and the inside walls threatened to brush against Iago’s shoulders as he reached the ceiling. He opened the hatch and climbed through to the open wooden platform and he scanned the area, searching for any sign of nearby life. Again, he found nothing unordinary. The mountain behind him blocked his view of everything except the ledge they had taken to get here. Still, he searched left and right, looking for movement, but nothing stirred in the darkness.
The noise came again, closer this time, and Iago’s skin crawled from the unease of not knowing what he faced. Then he heard a second moan, on top of the first, closer still. He turned east again and watched the sloping ridges of the mountainside. That’s where it came from, both of them.
Movement below startled him and he reached for his belt, grasping for a sword he didn’t have. It was only Galen, fortunately, peeking through the door of the building. The Pilot looked left and right, a very concerned look on his face. Iago, not wanting to draw more attention than he needed to, rapped the wooden railing and waved his arms until the Pilot saw him. He put a finger to his mouth, signaling him to stay quiet, then motioned him back inside. Galen nodded and retreated through the doorway while Iago climbed back through the hatch and down the ladder.
When he reached the ground he noted the silence that filled the air. Whatever made that noise must be on the move. He sprinted back to the building and closed the door behind him, finding Galen already getting dressed while the others slowly sat up and rubbed their eyes.
“Hurry!” Galen shouted in a whisper.
Jorin reached for his weapon. “What is it?”
Iago grabbed his pack, along with his belt and sword. “Something’s out there. Creatures of some sort. I don’t recognize the sound, but I think it best if we move before they get here.”
“They’re Garns,” said Galen.
Iago stopped in mid-buckle, so surprised by Galen’s words that he didn’t know what to say. Garns were fearsome tribal creatures of the western Lore Mountains. He’d never seen one, but he heard they looked like large men, standing two heads higher than a human and as strong as three. They were savage raiders, known for eating any meat they could find, even human. But no one had ever seen one out here.
“I thought Garns were only in the West,” Saalis said, echoing Iago’s own confused thoughts.
Galen threw on his cloak and grabbed his pack. “I don’t know. Maybe they’ve moved east. But that noise you heard was a Garn scouting the area.”
Iago finished fastening his belt. “I heard two of them. Close”
“They travel in packs of three or four usually.” Galen pulled his robe over his head, his crystal necklace already around his neck. “They moan like that when they think they’ve found something. If they’re not hunting some goats or boars in the area, then we’re in very serious trouble.”
Iago stuffed his blanket into his pack. “Get everything ready to go. There’s a small ledge just west of the outpost that leads down. It will take us back towards the river. We need to get there, now.”
A crash outside startled them. Iago jumped back against the side wall, grabbing the hilt of his sword, as did Saalis. Galen backed up into the left corner by the staircase and Margis did the same on the right while Hal crouched down on the floor. Jonir moved to the front, trying to peer out a window without being seen. Iago made eye contact with him, but Jonir just shook his head and continued searching for whatever caused the crash.
Iago turned to Saalis and pointed to the hatch at the top of the stairwell. Saalis nodded, grabbed his pack and climbed a few steps until his back was crouched over, pressed against the hatch. He reached out to open it, and Iago grimaced, worried that the hinges would be so rusty that they would creak loud enough to be heard in the Outerlands. To his surprise, and Saalis’, whose expression showed that he’d expected the same thing, the hinges made no noise as he opened it and peered around the second floor. He looked back at Iago, nodded, then climbed up top. Iago pointed to Margis, whose face was pasty white now, to go up next, then Galen.
While the two Pilots shuffled up the stairs, Iago moved to the front wall, stopping next to the window on the right side of the door. From where he stood the only angle he had through the window was the area just outside the door and beyond that to the west. The crash had come from the other direction, though. Jonir had by now found enough courage to stand right next to the left window, scanning the opposite angle. He looked out, then turned his head to his right and leaned out ever so slightly. He immediately jumped back, causing Iago to flinch and grab his sword again. Jonir pointed to the right and held up two fingers. Iago mouthed the word “Garns?” and Jonir shrugged.
Hal, who had moved to the wall behind Iago, looked terrified. “What are we gonna do, Cap’n?” he whispered. Iago put his finger to his mouth and shook his head, then pointed upstairs. Hal grabbed his pack and followed the Pilots to the second floor.
Another crash, closer this time. Iago tensed, and he saw Jonir do the same. The noise sounded like doors in the other buildings being flung open. Or pounded open. He figured the Garns were scavenging for food, thinking this was a regularly occupied settlement. There were seven buildings total, three to the left and three to the right. If they were going door to door, then they were only two doors away. Iago motioned for Jonir to go upstairs. They each grabbed their packs and hurried up the staircase, Jonir, then Iago, who closed the hatch behind him.
The others crouched against the back wall, the Landers with stern, hard faces and the Pilots with wild, scared eyes. Iago and Jonir took spots on either side of the hatch and waited. Iago looked for a lock or some kind of mechanism to keep the hatch shut, but there was no way to secure it. If the Garns came in here and decided to check upstairs, they would just have to fight t
hem. He slowly pulled his sword out, getting it comfortable in his hand. Then he waited quietly, unmoving. The silence was unnatural. It made everyone uncomfortable and all of them were visibly sweating in the cool morning air, but no one said a word or made a sound for fear of breaking the stillness.
After an interminable wait, another crash came, closer. They were next door, and Iago heard faint scuffling coming through the walls, but not much else. All the Landers had their swords out now. Iago turned to Galen to see the Pilot’s eyes squeezed shut. The sounds stopped and everyone readied themselves, knowing as Iago did that this building was next. Saalis, in a crouching position on the floor, began bouncing slightly, as if ready to pounce.
The next sound they heard was another of those low moans. Only this one came from above the building. Iago saw Galen’s eyes pop open and look to the ceiling, and realizing that a third had joined them, likely waiting on the ledge behind the structures. It was soon accompanied by a second, then a third, coming from below, just outside. Iago began thinking, frantically. The third one would have to work its way here by coming down the side like the other two did. Fortunately, the buildings were made entirely of stone, so the door downstairs was the only way in. Unfortunately, it was also the only way out.
The moans stopped. Another crash. The door below slammed open.
Everyone froze, listening to the sound of Garns on the other side of the hatch. Loud sniffing and scuffling noises filled the air, then the sound of the grating to the fireplace being opened, followed by grunting. Iago crouched low, ready to stab at anything that came through the hatch, and hoping that the Garns decided not to come near the stairs. He waited for a seemingly endless moment.
Then he heard a sickening sound behind him. Iago and the others turned to see Margis crouched over in the corner of the room, vomiting. Iago felt his stomach drop as Margis caught his breath and retched again, loudly. Hal grimaced and turned away while Saalis shook his head, worry obvious on his face. There was no chance the Garns hadn’t heard that.
The scuffling sounds stopped. They turned into sniffing noises. Iago waited, sword in hand, ready to strike. He could smell the foul stench coming from the corner but he barely thought about it. He watched the hatch intensely, staring at the planks of wood separating them from possible death.
The hatch popped open, and before Iago could even think, Jonir lunged forward with an awkward thrust that struck flesh. A thunderous roar of pain filled the room and in the split second of Iago’s hesitation, he finally saw what a Garn looked like. Every grotesque feature of this beast seemed double the size of a normal man. Its huge, bulbous eyes hung over a wide mouth and a large nose, all shadowed by a forehead that jutted out grossly. This one had long, wispy dark hair that hung from the sides of a nearly bald head. The Garn’s shoulders were wide and thick, its arms almost as big around as Iago’s waist. The creature wore nothing save a ragged loincloth, and it held a large mace, two handed for normal men, in its left hand.
Jonir’s blade found its target, digging deep into the Garn’s right shoulder. The creature twisted away, pulling its back against the wall, with the hatch in between, but as it turned, Jonir’s blade came free from his hand. Now weaponless, Jonir lost his balance and toppled to the floor, before righting himself and scurrying away on his backside. Iago took advantage of the confusion and drove his own blade into the Garn’s chest. The creature cried out again, and grabbed Iago’s wrist before he could pull the sword out. Iago grimaced at the monster’s incredible strength, and he thought his hand might pop off from the pressure of its grip. Iago tried to wrest himself free, but he couldn’t budge. Jonir, still the closest, lunged past Iago and grabbed the hilt of his sword, still sticking out from the beast’s shoulder. It came free but not before the Garn slipped back down the stairs, dragging Iago down with him.
Iago fell forward, his arm, shoulders and head falling through the hatch and into the bottom room, with only his legs bracing his body up top. The Garn still had a death grip on his forearm, but it was dying, and slumping farther down the short staircase. Iago turned and saw the second Garn, looking very similar to the first, standing near the door. Iago blanched as it stared back at him, upside down from his current point of view, almost as if considering how to eat him. Iago panicked and pulled harder, reaching up with his free hand to grab the edge of the hatch.
Strong hands grabbed his legs and waist, trying to keep him from being dragged completely through, where a quick death would await. But no matter how much they pulled and he struggled, he was stuck as long as the Garn held his arm. The second Garn howled at him and approached, stooped over uncomfortably by the low ceiling, holding an axe that looked like a trinket in its oversized fist. Just as he thought it was all over, the first Garn relaxed his grip enough for Iago to slip his hand free. The three Landers fell back as they yanked him up through the hole and as far back from it as they could get in this small room. The hatch door fell shut, leaving the room in shocked silence.
Iago tried to catch his breath, panting more than actually breathing. That second Garn would be up here any moment, and his sword was still lodged in the chest of the first one. Hal and Saalis sat on either side of him, their weapons ready. Jonir crouched off to the left some, waiting to pounce once again.
A harried moment passed, and finally the hatch flew open. Jonir struck, this time with a wide slash, but the second Garn was more prepared for them. It whirled its axe in a backhand motion that caused the two weapons to crash into each other, sending Jonir’s sword flying into the wall behind the Garn. Jonir rolled out of the way as the Garn swung wildly again, trying to hit anything nearby.
The Garn took another step up the stairs, trying to crawl into the room when it stopped and let out a roar. The roar turned into a choking sound, however, and then it cut off completely. Iago watched in confusion as the Garn dropped its weapon and began clawing at its own throat. All of a sudden the Garn slammed itself into the wall behind it and stayed there, its eyes bulging even more than normal. Out of the corner of his eye, Iago noticed Saalis looking off to the right. Iago followed his gaze and saw Galen, his right hand held out towards the Garn, eyes intently focused on the creature, silently mouthing the same few words over and over. He turned back to the Garn, watching as its hands slowly slid down to its sides, the life draining away. Everyone continued to stare, completely captivated as the Garn eventually stopped moving completely. Iago turned back to Galen to see him still chanting.
“Galen.” Everyone flinched when Margis broke the silence, except for Galen, who continued, almost in a trance. “Galen!” Margis said. This time he was heard and Galen’s mouth stopped moving. He took a deep breath and let his arm drop, at which point the Garn fell down through the hatch, the door again falling shut.
“What was that?” asked Hal, his eyes wide.
Galen exhaled and brought his hands up to rub his extremely pale face. He waited a moment before finally answering, “Air Magic.”
“I thought Air Magic just flew the ships and made shields.” Hal almost seemed afraid of the Pilot now.
“He hardened the air in its chest, choking the beast to death,” Margis said, somewhat in amazement.
“It’s not a trick we’re taught to use very often. But I thought now might be the time.” Galen sniffed and ran a quivering hand through his hair.
Saalis readied his sword. “There’s still another one out there.”
“Aye.” Iago had just now managed to get his mind working again after his encounter with the first Garn. “We should make a run for it.”
Jonir grabbed his sword and his pack, then lifted the hatch while everyone else gathered their belongings. He peered down, then moved around to get a better view of the entrance below. After a quick check, he pulled the door completely open and hurried down the stairs. The rest followed, Galen and Margis coming down last. Iago saw the Garn with his sword leaning against the wall at the bottom of the steps. Its eyes were closed but it was still bre
athing, albeit very slowly. Blood covered the Garn’s chest and shoulder, and a puddle had formed on the floor, while the second one lay on its back in the middle of the room, completely still. The other Landers crowded around the doorway, trying to see out the door and the windows.
“I don’t see it,” said Saalis.
“Maybe it’s hiding, waiting for us,” Hal said.
“Garns don’t hide,” Galen replied, as he reached the bottom of the steps.
Iago continued to stare at the first Garn, consumed with getting his sword back. Would the Garn wake up if he pulled it out, or was it already too far gone? He had to decide quickly if he wanted his weapon back. “Move outside if you can’t see it. Make a run for the ledge to the left of us. It leads back down to the river.”
Jonir stepped through the doorway cautiously, his eyes looking everywhere. He finally went completely through and shook his head. “I don’t see anything.”
“Go! Quickly! I’ll be right behind you,” Iago said. The others moved through the doorway and followed Jonir as he ran west, away from the outpost. Iago glanced one last time out the windows, and then he grabbed the hilt. He hesitated for a second, and tried to stand as far away from the beast as he could. Finally, he yanked his sword out. The Garn leaned forward slightly from the force, then fell sideways onto the floor. Iago frowned, wondering if he should put the Garn out of its misery, then deciding better of it. He didn’t want to be in this room anymore, so he ran out the door.