A Song in the Rain

by Lydia Deyes

  Glancing to the side as we continued on, I noticed Amery and Al were no longer conversing. I wondered what they were thinking. Perhaps they wondered the same of me. I hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the community of starving animals behind. Desperate to think of something — anything — else, I scanned our surroundings again. Ever since that community, we hadn’t passed any more signs of life. It was nearing winter. The air was cold, and no more fruit would grow on the branches this season. Every bush was barren; every tree was devoid of fruit. There wasn’t even anything remotely resembling food rotting on the forest floor. The only sustenance we could find to eat was the occasional spider or insect. Were there other settlements of animals out here, grouping together for mere survival?

  I paused in thought for a moment, then quickened my pace again to catch up with Al and Amery. I suddenly thought of the headaches I’d been getting from Nivek. Why wasn’t I being bothered by one now? What changed since the previous night? Was he holding back, waiting to strike? Though baffled and concerned, a new thought sprouted.

  Why am I worrying so much about something that ends my suffering? I’m not in pain, so it isn’t a problem.

  Perhaps I was free, somehow, from Nivek’s hold on my head!

  A tiny voice in my head warned me not to dismiss my concern, but I pushed it away. What good does worrying do? Then another thought crossed my mind. If I’m free of the headaches, what about my wings?

  I tentatively stretched them; my shoulders ached from carrying my wings so stiffly against my body, but besides that, there was nothing. None of the excruciating pain I’d come to expect. Elated, I immediately lifted up in flight and twirled happily in the air, ignoring the soreness in my wings. It was a good kind of sore — painful, but mine. I was free, finally free!

  Amery and Al stopped walking and looked up at me with astonishment and joy. I’d never felt so happy in my entire life. I did a few more twirls in the air, then landed on a branch, full of glee. I was free to do my own thing now, not cumbered down by Nivek’s unrelenting grasp. I closed my eyes with blissful happiness, then opened them with a start. I sensed something. Something wrong. Almost as if…

  No, I thought immediately. How could someone be watching us? We’re in the middle of the woods, just trekking through. There’s no way someone would be tracking us. What interest would we be to them?

  I shook the wariness from my mind. Amery had noticed the flicker of concern, though, and it was now reflected in her own eyes.

  I have to stand up for us, I decided, to be the strong one.

  I puffed out my chest with confidence. I would’ve looked away, but something in her eyes captivated me; it held me for a moment before I could break free.

  As the rush of freedom settled, it reminded me of the longing I’d had for power. I missed the strength I’d had back on the thirteenth floor, and before I’d fought the wolf. I wondered if Nivek really would let me join him, even though he wanted me to surrender.

  No, I thought suddenly. He didn’t want me to surrender. He always wanted me to join him, even from the beginning.

  But though I was intrigued by the feeling of power, did I really want to join him? He’d caused so many animals’ deaths, their sorrow, their hunger. I twitched, recalling how my dream version of Amery had accused me of doing the same thing.

  Am I really so different from him?

  Besides, he’d done so much to hurt me. For the past few weeks, he’d tortured my mind and rid me of the ability to use my wings. No… that’s wrong. He never did torture me; that was all a dream, just like the dream of Amery being mad at me. I was confused for a moment. Had I really forgotten it had all been a dream? How could I have been so wrong? And why would he want me to join him?

  He’s powerful, my thoughts resounded, as if responding to my own question. He wants me to join him. That would make me, by default, almost as powerful as he is. He could help me regain the powers I’ve lost. He could enhance the ones I still have. I could utilize my abilities again — to speak in multiple tongues, and, if he returned my more famous capability, I’d be able to manipulate the world around me again. To control it, with nothing but my thoughts.

  The wave of desire blossomed, filling me with strength and urging me onward. “Come on!” I called to Amery and Al, who were still watching me from the ground. “Let’s keep going! We’ve got places to be!”

  L

  We were finally able to pick up the pace now that I was flying again. As I hopped from branch to branch, Amery beside me and Al below, I tried to ignore my gnawing hunger. We’d traveled for twenty days now — almost a full moon’s cycle — since leaving Samuel’s family behind. Winter had set in, and so had the cold. I couldn’t remember the last time it had rained, but if anything, it would be more likely to snow now. The riverbed we were following was nothing but an imprint in the dry, cracked earth.

  The dark western cliffs were looming taller above us now, but they still seemed ages away. The stillness gave me more time to think. I kept flipping back between thirst for justice and thirst for power; the resistant voice inside me had all but faded away. I still wasn’t sure whether I wanted to kill Nivek for taking so much away from me, or join him to refill my life with strength and pleasure. Either way, my mind was steeled on our destination. Every step we took gave me more determination and bitter resolve to finish this journey and achieve whichever goal was at the forefront of my mind at the time.

  On top of this, a strange feeling that we were being followed persisted in the outer reaches of my thoughts. It always went away as quickly as it came, but it was starting to bother me.

  It doesn’t make any sense, of course, that someone would be following us.

  But still. Though the feeling was fleeting, it was ominous. I looked at the sky, trying to make sense of everything, and noticed Nivek’s shroud had thickened. The sun was obscured by black clouds now; still, there was no scent of coming rain, no moisture in the air at all. Heaven knew the forest could use it.

  Perhaps the clouds weren’t Nivek himself, but rather a symbol of his power. It was just like in my vision of the spreading darkness, which overtook the minds of helpless animals. Regardless of the extent to which the clouds resembled the mass of dark spirits we were traveling to meet, or confront, it was clear his power was spreading. I was overwhelmed by his power, the fear of fighting it, and the lust of sharing it. It made sense that his power had spread fires throughout the forest; it made sense that animals were coming together for mere survival because of what he’d done. I never thought it would come to this, to physically affecting the world, the clouds, and the weather itself. It was incredible.

  Even though part of me wanted to revel in this power, to have some of it as my own, I was afraid. When would the destruction end?

  Perhaps if I join him, he’ll stop the destruction and be content, I thought.

  Yet something deep inside me knew this was wrong. It was somehow extremely difficult for me to muster the thought, but I knew he would never stop. Not until he’d taken over all the animal kingdom; not until he ruled every species on the Earth. I shuddered to think what would happen if he managed to completely swallow the race of humans into the darkness. They may not be strong or mighty, but their reach, intelligence, weapons, and dominance would leave him unstoppable. With their power in his grasp, we would all perish.

  Except for me, I thought. If I joined him, I’d reign the world beside him.

  Suddenly, though the sky was dark, an even darker shadow flitted across the ground. I looked up and saw nothing. I stopped and called Amery and Al to me.

  “Did you see that? Did you hear anything?”

  Al nodded slowly, saying he’d seen a shadow, but Amery said nothing. Instead, she stared off into the distance, cocking her head, listening. Could she hear it, whatever it was?

  She then quickly turned her head, and Al turned, too, having heard a sound. Again, a shadow passed over us. This time I saw something, though I wasn’t sure exactly what it w
as. It resembled a large bird, but not a physical one. Rather, it seemed to be a sort of living shadow capable of flight.

  My heart stopped. I stared at Amery and Al, and we all shared looks of terror. I’d seen it in my dream; they’d heard of it from myths. Malvador.

  I knew Malvador was serving Nivek — whether by choice or by force, I had no way to tell. I wish I did. If Nivek could control this creature, that was even scarier than if it were just working alongside him by choice. But how could the shadow vulture make the mistake of being seen if it was a spy for Nivek? Unless… unless it was no mistake. Unless Nivek wanted us to know he was watching us. I shuddered with fear.

  “What do we do?” I whispered. Amery just looked at me, her eyes wide with horror. But when I turned to Al, his eyes held a glint of hope.

  ◆◆◆

  Al motioned for us to follow him. He led us quickly through the woods, looking left and right and sniffing around many different roots. He was moving faster than ever before, and I struggled to keep up with him. The faint smell of burnt pine stung my nostrils and grew in intensity as I followed the muskrat.

  Soon we arrived at a thick grove of trees, around which wound a dense thicket of vines bearing large, deadly thorns. We squeezed carefully through. On the other side was nothing, but the scent of burnt pine was overwhelming. It was dark inside the thicket; the trees, though they bore no leaves, were so closely packed together, hardly any sunlight made it through both the dense clouds and interlocking branches.

  Al began to dig. Before Amery or I could make a move, he’d opened up a hole, dragged both of us underground into a tunnel, and closed off the hole again with stones. We were left adjusting our eyes to the darkness.

  I couldn’t see a thing, so I had no idea what Al was saying, but it was short. Then he led us deeper into the ground. Amery seemed to be having an even harder time seeing in the dark than I was, but at least she could follow the sound of Al’s voice. Both of us stumbled in the dark, uneven tunnel.

  We continued on, crawling deeper and deeper into the Earth as we went down the path. Small passageways opened to the right and left, but Al led us straight onward.

  After a while, the slope of the tunnel leveled off, and the number of side tunnels decreased. The road forward became straight and long. Somewhere far ahead, something was glowing. It wasn’t very bright, but in contrast to the darkness I’d already grown accustomed to, it nearly blinded me. Squinting as our eyes tried to adjust to the increasing brightness, we moved slowly forward.

  Finally, the tunnel widened into a bulbous hollow. The rocky walls glowed in various shades of blue, green, and pink. Al stopped and grinned. “It’s a kind of luminescent rock called Fluorite,” he explained; Amery scratched the new words in the well-packed dirt so I could understand.

  “What is this place?” Amery asked.

  Al had a mysterious glimmer in his eyes when he responded. “Welcome, my friends, to the Rúnda, or more colloquially, the Hidden Tunnel.” He paused while Amery wrote down the name for me, then continued. “It’s a passageway that connects multiple thorny groves to the Caves of Mist, which reside in the dark western cliffs. It’ll be much safer to travel this way than through the woods. Malvador can’t follow us here.”

  I stared in wonder. “How did you know this existed?”

  “Many myths and legends have arisen from the woods in these parts, and from the outskirts of the dark cliffs,” he explained. “The tunnels and caves underground were formed by ancient residents as a form of travel and protection in times of war. They were rarely used for centuries until recently, when hard times came upon us once more. Now, it seems many refugees from Nivek’s reign have retreated here for safety.” He gestured behind us, and I turned to see the reflections of dozens of eyes watching us curiously. I guessed the side tunnels led to their homes. I felt sorry for the animals who had no choice but to seek refuge underground. I was hungry, but as some of the other animals came into the light to greet us, I felt a greater pity for them than for myself. They were even skinnier than the animals we’d seen in the forest. Still, the sting of hunger reminded me of the long journey ahead, of the sustenance we’d require to make it to the cliffs.

  They’re just staying here, I thought. I deserve food more than they do. Who cares if they die? I should be fed.

  I shook my head, forcing the thoughts from my mind. How could I think such things?

  I turned back to Al as he continued. “There are several thorny groves that mark the entrances to the cave system. They all have a peculiar smell of burnt pine. When I caught a whiff, I immediately remembered this place and decided to take you here. I’ve always wanted to come see the Rúnda,” he admitted, “but I never had a reason to make the insane trip to the dark cliffs until now.”

  We rested there that night, in the home of a gracious ferret family. Their hollow was bare, but it was moderately dry and warm. Al nibbled on some roots around the tunnel, and the ferrets helped me and Amery find a couple insects to line our aching stomachs. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. More water was here, at least… I wondered how many animals had relocated for the groundwater alone. They’d built formal watering holes close to each cave of fluorite and posted guards to carefully control how much each animal drank from the limited supply.

  When our thirst was quenched and we were well-rested — underground, we couldn’t tell whether it was night or day — we continued on our way down the straight, narrow tunnel. As the light from the fluorite dimmed, I could faintly see the light from another similar cave farther down. We marched on, towards the one searching for us; the one who’d sent Malvador after us as a spy, the one who wanted me to join him or die. I still hadn’t made up my mind why I was making this journey, but I recalled the dream I’d had so long ago, where the wind had whispered to me that peace, in some form or another, waited in the dark western cliffs.

  As we walked, animals came to the entrances of their hollows to watch us. I felt the ground rumble gently with chanting that must have echoed through the halls: “Silent Warrior. Silent Warrior. Silent Warrior.” I couldn’t tell them I wasn’t sure I would even fight Nivek. Their hope was too great. I didn’t know what to say.

  For several more long, uneventful days — or what I supposed were days, based on the times we slept and ate — we continued on through the underground tunnel. Families of those forced to live in the dark hollows watched us and chanted my name. We ate what we could find and spoke little. Each day was just like the last, and nothing ever seemed to change. I almost forgot what sunlight looked like, we were down in the dark for so long. The glowing fluorite was our only source of light. The patches were close enough together that you could faintly see the next one as soon as you exited the first, but the stretches of tunnel in-between were still incredibly dark. The straight path never seemed to end. I’d long lost count of the number of days we’d been traversing these secret passageways.

  Then, one day, the earth trembled like never before.

  The chanting of the animals from their hollows cut short. The ground shook, nearly throwing me from my feet. Rocks and clods of dirt fell all around us; dirt sifted down like rain. I felt the vibrations and knew this was no ordinary earthquake. This particular type of shaking could only be caused by one thing: the pounding of many feet, paws, and hooves on the surface. We stayed quietly where we were, clinging to each other for protection from the raining stones.

  LI

  When the vibrations died down and it seemed we were no longer in danger of being crushed, we brushed ourselves off and took a moment to breathe. The animals in their side tunnels watched me expectantly, too terrified to continue chanting my name.

  “Al,” I finally said, “would you dig up to the surface? We should investigate what just happened.”

  He nodded, then got to work. He started between two side tunnels, then dug with a steep upward slope. A pair of moles joined beside him to help him move faster. Before long, he broke through to the surface, and a b
eam of moonlight shone through the hole.

  The first thing that struck me was the blinding full moon’s light filling the frosty air. Once my eyes adjusted, I noticed two things: first, that the moon didn’t shine as brightly as it should. Though it seemed intense compared to our time underground, it was shrouded by dark clouds so thick, it seemed Nivek himself filled the sky.

  Second, I marked that I could see the shadows of hundreds of animals, traveling in the very direction we were headed: to the dark cliffs. The cliffs themselves were much larger now than they were when we were last above ground. I squinted to identify the hoard, then felt my eyes grow wide with terror and my heart fill with fear. There were humans and gigantic reptilian Beasts among them. The ancient monsters Spike had resurrected walked alongside the race that had previously held firm control over most of the world. Both were now walking directly into Nivek’s grasp. Had he somehow recruited these powerful beings? As if to answer my question, the shadows themselves seemed to shift among the marching crowd, and I realized they were no normal shadows. It was the shroud, thick and heavy around their feet, curling up around their legs, and crawling into their mouths. None of them reacted… they’d already become one with the darkness. We were too late to save the race of humans.

  As we watched the odd procession from the cover of the brush, an even greater darkness passed over us. It was the shadow vulture, Malvador. I’d never be able to forget the sight, so much more real than in my vision. It was an immense shadow with no body; its wingspan was longer than an oak was tall. It had blazing red eyes, and it brought with it a terrible feeling of cold, loss, hopelessness, and fear. Feelings far stronger than they should have been without some sort of magic. No wonder the creatures in the forest feared it over any other living thing — if it could even be considered alive. It certainly seemed Malvador was answering to Nivek.