Eye of the Moonrat (The Bowl of Souls: Book One)

by Cooley, Trevor H.

  His heart was racing. Justan took a deep breath and tried to take control of his fear. He drew his swords for comfort and walked around trying to see if he could retrace his steps and find his way back to the caravan. Unfortunately, Justan had not paid enough attention in the tracking classes at the Training School and this was not one of his strengths.

  He tried to think about it logically. He needed to get back to the road. Now he was sure that he hadn’t crossed over the road in the night. He had entered the forest to the east of the road, so he knew that the road had to be to the west. But which way was west?

  Justan remembered his father telling him that moss was only supposed to grow on the north side of the trees because it did not like the sunlight. He checked the trees and soon found that this rule evidently didn’t apply everywhere because moss seemed to cover every inch of the tree trunks in this forest. He looked up at the bright blob that was the sun rising above the mist. He knew that the sun always rose in the east. If he kept the sun at his back, he would travel to the west until he reached the road.

  So with a lighter step, he plowed along through the forest using the sun as his guide. As noon came, he realized that it was not so easy to follow the sun when it was right overhead. He was exhausted and knew that it was going to be easy for him to get lost again if he didn’t know the direction he was traveling.

  He stopped and took a deep drink from his waterskin. His stomach rumbled. In his haste, Justan hadn’t packed away much to eat. He had a few dried strips of meat and a hard roll, which he devoured quickly. He sat while he ate and his eyes grew heavy. Justan decided to take a short nap and continue on when the sun was further on its way across the sky. He sat with his back to a tree and closed his eyes.

  Justan awoke abruptly as something slithered across his neck. With a yelp, he jumped to his feet. He looked around with his hand to his neck, but could not see what it was that had wakened him. He shivered as he stared at the ground. The leaves could hold any number of surprises.

  He looked up to see that the sun was way past its zenith. Justan knew that it must be late afternoon. He had slept far longer than planned. Fortunately the mist was gone, evaporated in the noonday sun. But in a way, now that he could see farther ahead it was even worse. The tall leafless trees seemed to stretch forever. There was no road in sight.

  Justan plowed with haste toward the sun on its western path, deciding that he could not be too far from the road. Surely he couldn’t have traveled that far during the night. He moved along, and the trees became taller and the leaves got deeper as he progressed until at times they were knee deep.

  He trudged through these places ignoring the thought of what could be hiding in those depths, but the struggle sapped his energy. He also noticed that the further he traveled, the quieter it got. There were less bird chirps, less insect buzzing, until finally when the sun descended below the horizon, it was dead silent. Justan tried to whistle to clear some of the silence, but his whistling sounded uncomfortably loud in his ears and he feared that he might attract the attention of something he did not want to meet.

  In the dusk, he picked up his pace and scrambled faster through the leaves. He really wanted to reach the road before it got dark again. As he hurried along, the trees grew closer together and dead brown plants appeared to clog the space between the trees. In places it was thick enough that Justan had to use his swords to chop his way through. The ground was also softer here and it seemed to suck at his feet through the dead leaves at his every step.

  Justan started to panic. The road couldn’t be this far to the west. Maybe he had crossed it at some point without knowing.

  Justan was at an impasse again. Should he retrace his steps and circle through the less forbidding part of the forest, or should he continue along this clotted path? He didn’t have time to wait around and think about it. Justan decided that his earlier logic had to be correct. He just needed to calm down and continue on the path that he had chosen. He would come onto the road sooner or later.

  Night fell.

  It became so dark that Justan couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. There was no moon that night and the trees had grown so thick together at this point that even the sparse starlight couldn’t penetrate the blackness. After hitting his head on a low branch, he decided that he couldn’t travel any farther in these conditions. He would likely hurt himself or get even more lost than he already was. So he reached in front of him and grabbed a tree. He knelt at its base.

  He couldn’t think of anything better to do but cover himself in leaves and try to get some rest. He dug down and his hand touched something slimy. He remembered the thing that had slithered across his neck earlier. The story that Vannya had told about the mage who had been bitten by the poisonous snake made his skin crawl. Justan knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

  He stood with his back to the tree and drew his swords, waiting for the smallest sound. He wouldn’t lie down and didn’t dare to try climbing the tree. Strange creatures could live in a tree, too.

  His mind could not keep up this panicked state for long. His fear began to dissipate. After a while he fell into a half-awake trancelike state. The hours slowly marched by. He started to see imaginary swirlings in the blackness, glowing faces and ghoulish apparitions. He shook his head and then he heard a sound that made his blood run cold. It was far off, but he heard it as distinctly as if it was beside him. A chittering moan.

  Moonrats.

  Justan clenched his fists around his sword hilts and waited with his blood pounding in his ears. He had never felt so helpless or been so terrified in his life. The moan was joined by another, and yet another until the night that had seemed so silent before was now like a cacophonous madhouse of chatter.

  Justan stood as still as possible, not daring to make a sound. He didn’t see how they would be able to hear him over the noises that they were making, but he didn’t know anything about the beasts. How sensitive was their hearing? Would they be able to smell him? Would he know that they were coming or would he just be rushed quickly from behind?

  The forest started to brighten. Justan realized that morning must be coming. He started to be able to make out more details of his surroundings. Then suddenly Justan saw pairs of glowing lights in the distance. The chittering sounds grew louder as the moonrats approached.

  Justan knew he would not be able to flee. Where would he flee to? He took the only advantage he had. He climbed the tree. In the dim light, he could just make out a limb overhead. He was barely able to reach the lowest limb by jumping with all of his strength. From there he climbed up until he was sure that they would not be able to reach him.

  Justan watched the glowing eyes come closer, bobbing up and down with the creatures steps. His horror was mounting. Even with the brightening of the forest, Justan could not see the creatures yet, just their pupil-less eyes. Several sets of those glowing orbs gathered under his tree and Justan could not tell whether they were looking up at him or not. Then the moaning abruptly stopped.

  They just sat still, eyes glowing in the dim light. He quietly slid the Jharro bow off of his back and notched one of his new steel arrows to it. The moonrats kept their patient vigil for a few moments longer. Justan pulled the string back and waited for any reason to shoot. He was nearly petrified with fear and the only thing that kept him sane was the warmth of the bow in his hand and the throbbing power in the string as it was humming by his ear.

  He began to be able to make out their forms in the weak light and it didn’t make things any better. They were frightening beyond all belief with their extra sets of hands wiggling about and their glowing orbs staring silently. One of them came up to the tree and put its front paws up on the trunk. It stood there sniffing up at him and gave a sharp yelp. Justan was so startled that he almost fired his arrow right into the dirt.

  He heard a chitter behind him. He turned to see another moonrat in the tree next to his, hanging from a branch by the arms that grew out of its back. Its
luminous eyes seemed to stare straight through him and it snarled.

  With a cry, Justan shot the arrow right between those glowing orbs. The power of the shot sent them shooting out of the monster’s head in opposite directions. The dead creature fell to the ground and the beasts that milled around beneath him went mad. Three of them fell over the remains of the one he had slain, gnawing and gorging. The rest swarmed around his tree and started climbing it. Justan pulled another arrow as fast as he could and fired down with such force that his missile burst through two of the beasts before burying itself in the ground. More frenzied creatures started to devour these dying moonrats, but the awful calls were answered in the distance with a swarming fury.

  He looked around him and he saw more of the creatures using their extra arms and the appendage on their tail to swing through the branches toward him. He fired as quickly as he could with his new steel arrows and blew the beasts apart. He knew that he would run out of ammunition soon but he didn’t have time to think.

  He shot another monstrosity swinging towards him and pinned it to a tree, its back broken. More moonrats leapt from the branches above it to feed. He was lucky that they were happy to eat each other because that distraction was the only thing keeping him alive.

  Soon, Justan must have killed over a dozen of them. He only had five arrows left in his quiver, when he felt wet drool land on his head. He looked up just in time to see a moonrat hanging from a branch right above him by its tail, its four front arms were open and grasping while its mouth was open about to snap at him.

  Justan couldn’t get his bow up in time and the beast fell upon him, knocking him off of the branch. They fell several feet to hit the ground with a thud. Justan landed on his back with the creature on top of him. He tried to push it off of him while gasping for air. He knew that the others would be on him right away.

  Suddenly a deafening roar ripped from the darkness. A huge maw full of sharp teeth closed about the head of the rat on top of him and flung the beast away. Justan caught a glimpse of a reptilian head and brown fur. Then it was standing over him.

  Whatever the giant creature was, it stood above him on four long, partially scaled legs. It roared in defiance at the smaller creatures. The moonrats hissed in reply and the giant creature leapt at them, biting with sharp teeth and rending with its front claws.

  Justan grabbed up his bow and ran. He did not know what it was that had just saved his life, but he wasn’t going to wait and find out. He ran until he realized that he wasn’t being pursued and then stopped. He could hear the battle raging on behind him.

  Justan knew that he should keep running, but there was something about that beast that had rescued him that made him pause. Why had it saved him? Most likely it just wanted a less hairy dinner, but something in his heart said otherwise. He had not felt any malevolence from the creature.

  Despite his logic screaming at him to run away, Justan notched an arrow and found himself heading back towards the fight.

  The forest had lightened enough at this point that he could make out the struggle. The large beast that had saved him looked like a slapped together patchwork mix between a reptile and a horse, with the head of a lizard, yet the ears and mane of a horse reaching down a long neck to a broadly muscled back that was covered in an equine pelt. It had a long sloping lizard-like tail that it was using to bat the moonrats away, and its legs and abdomen were covered in scales. It was using the sharp claws on the end of all four legs to slash away at any beast that got close to it. Despite the awkwardness of the mix, the monster didn’t move like a lizard or a horse, but more like a cat.

  Even with its deadly defenses, the creature was surrounded from all sides and above by the chittering moonrats. Justan knew that there was no way that it could win the fight. This creature would die if he didn’t do something. He had to help. Justan crept forward until he was positioned behind a tree where he wouldn’t be seen. The rats rushed the beast.

  Just as he put an arrow on the string, Justan heard a loud cry for help enter his mind. Sharp pain ripped through his brain. His vision blurred and it was as if he was seeing the battle in two perspectives. He saw the fight with his own eyes from behind the tree, but he also seemed to see the battle from the beast’s point of view.

  No, not a beast. A name came into his mind. Gwyrtha. Her name was Gwyrtha. A flood of images and scents assaulted him that were alien to his mind. He seemed to be sensing this creature’s thoughts and it, no . . . she thought in different terms than him.

  Justan didn’t have time to think, just react. He muted these new thoughts down in his mind and focused in. A moonrat had dropped from the tree and was biting Gwyrtha on the back of the neck. Justan’s arrow sent it sailing several yards before it landed into a pile of other moonrats who were feasting on their other dead brethren. Just four arrows left. He used them to clear a path for the creature, blowing the moonrats to pieces.

  “Run!” He shouted at her with both voice and mind and she did. Straight for him.

  As she barreled toward him, Justan’s instincts were to run screaming, but in his heart, he knew that her intentions were benevolent. Somehow, through the jumble of images in his mind, Justan knew that she wanted him to climb on her back. She paused beside him. He grabbed her thick mane and swung his leg over her back. She took off.

  She ran with the leaping bounds of a jungle cat. Justan had to hold on with all his might just to keep from being thrown off. The moonrats were howling and moaning in frustration behind them and Justan knew that they were still being pursued. However at this point, he was more afraid of being thrown off than being caught by the evil things.

  The trees streaked by. As they entered a small clearing, he discovered that the moonrats hadn’t just been chasing them. They were also calling ahead. They were surrounded by moonrats on the ground and hanging in the trees, all moaning and chittering at them madly.

  Gwyrtha wasn’t frightened by this development. She was ready for another fight. Justan had no choice but to draw his swords and slide off of her back. They would have to battle their way out together.

  It didn’t look likely that they would survive. But Justan found that, even though he had been sorely afraid of these creatures just moments before, the fear was gone. With his new ally there as support, Justan decided to go down in a way that Jhonate would be proud of. He would kill as many moonrats as he could before he fell.

  Justan and Gwyrtha prepared mentally for the coming attack. Their minds remained linked, and though Justan could not completely understand all the thoughts she was sending to him, he did understand the goodness of this strange creature. They had only known each other for mere minutes and yet there was already a strong bond between them. Justan felt a strength flow into him from that bond and his tired muscles filled with energy. He felt like he could fight forever. And we might have to, he thought, for the horde of moonrats attacked.

  Justan and Gwyrtha worked together in concert. That is to say that they didn’t get in each other’s way. Their fighting styles were different enough that it was hard for them to mesh as a coherent unit, but through the mental bond between them, they could both tell what to do to best help the other.

  Justan spun from left to right, attacking with both swords independently. With one sword, he pierced the glowing eye of a creature while his second weapon slashed open another beast’s throat. He began to feel like he had not felt since that day in the arena when all of his reflexes were working together in harmony. The strength that he had received from Gwyrtha not only gave him stamina, but a newfound agility that he put to good use.

  Gwyrtha bit one of the filthy things nearly in half and spat it aside. Oh how she hated the taste of these creatures. She spun and knocked a moonrat across the clearing with her tail. She also felt different since gaining this connection with the young human. Things seemed a little sharper and her mind was able to focus more. His thoughts were hard for her to follow, but she did understand his determination and it steadied her.
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  The glowing eyes of the beasts were easy targets because of the way they stood out. Justan worked his swords with a frenzy, putting out one light after another.

  They fought valiantly. Soon the clearing was filled with thrashing moonrats feasting on the bodies of their dead. But the moonrats that had been following them from the earlier battle arrived from the rear. The two companions began to tire. They were both covered in scratches and bites from the dirty beasts and the odds were overwhelming.

  Suddenly above the chittering din of the moonrats, Justan heard a rhythmic pounding. A jolt of pure fear struck him through the bond. Something new was approaching. Something that scared Gwyrtha much more than the horde of moonrats.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  The jolt of fear coming from Gwyrtha hit Justan’s mind with paralyzing force. A moonrat got through his defenses and bit deeply into his calf. Justan howled in pain. He lopped the top of the moonrat’s head off with a mighty swipe, then spun and kicked another in the snout, knocking it away. The pain in his leg was searing. He had been bitten earlier in the night, but never this deep.