The Way of the Black Beast

by Stuart Jaffe

  "You want to keep the anarchy going strong."

  "Please, don't fight me like Tumus. Sweet little Malja, let me do something good."

  Malja drew her head back. "I don't know why you think I could force you to go."

  Cole chuckled. "Thank you."

  They listened to the chirping night creatures and distant, random explosions. Malja sharpened Viper. Cole relaxed.

  Many people had come in and out of Malja's life and she never minded much. Drifting through the world brought that about. As long as she thought she had a good sense of the person, she felt secure. The closer she came to Jarik and Callib, however, the more confusing the people around her had become.

  Adding to her thoughts, Malja heard Tumus approach. "Can't sleep?"

  Tumus huffed as she sat next to Cole. "That man's snoring is worse than listening to Barris Mont speak."

  The others laughed loud enough to interrupt Skvalan's snoring, which only caused more laughter. The brief mirth didn't fool Malja, though. Tumus did not sit with them for companionship. As their laughter subsided, Malja pressed for an answer.

  Tumus said, "I'm concerned about tomorrow."

  "We all are," Cole said.

  "I'm worried we're being led into a trap."

  Cole's smile dropped. "You have the gall to accuse me —"

  "Not you. Them." Tumus indicated the city. "Jarik and Callib had outrun us. They should have been to the city already and done whatever they wanted. Instead, they use exhaustive magic to send an abomination upon us. Why?"

  Malja set her sharpening stone aside. "You think they wanted us to catch up?"

  "It's a possibility."

  "Yet you know I'm going in there anyway."

  "For Tommy."

  Malja inspected her blade. "Yes. For Tommy."

  "Well," Tumus said as she stood, "I simply wanted to make sure we all understood. Good night."

  After she left, Malja turned to Cole. "Still want to come along?"

  Cole's face darkened as she peered into the distance. Malja lifted Viper and stood in a ready stance. She sniffed the air and listened for snapping twigs or crushed leaves. Cole looked at the ground like a defeated child. "The fighting stopped."

  "Jarik and Callib?"

  "They're in the City of Ashes now. They're home."

  Chapter 22

  The batteries gave out a few hours into the morning drive. Malja's anticipation fueled her legs, and she suspected the same could be said of the others. Nobody complained. They moved like ants scaling a tree to get to some leaves — steady and strong with a goal firmly in place.

  When the sun reached its highest point, they took a break, each member of the team settling under a tree or an overhang for shade. All except Cole. She stood at the path's edge, gazing across the wide vista.

  Malja approached and offered a swig of water from a dented canteen. Cole's cheeks were damp — more than just sweat. "You okay?"

  Dabbing at her eyes, Cole said, "It's silly, but I just started thinking about Faw-Faw. I was remembering how back then the two of us lived so free of any concerns. Our days were spent following our whims and our nights were, well, passionate. Now it's all just this."

  "Sounds like it was a dream, and dreams don't last forever."

  "I know. See, but then I think about chubby Suzu or Rev with his big voice and charming laugh and ... I'm sorry they're all gone."

  Malja threw a rock into the open air and watched it plummet. "Let's get hiking. It's going to be hard. That'll keep your mind off the dead."

  As they trudged through several hours, Malja found her own dead to be kept at bay by the hike. She focused on each breath, each step, each rock. As night approached, they came upon the city streets. No gates, no arch, no bridge — nothing to signify the start of the city but a few scattered buildings.

  These first structures stood tall with little apparent damage beyond broken windows and the wear of ages. Some were brick. Others smooth metal. A rare few were made of the once-white material Malja saw in Barris Mont's memory. Now, the white barely showed. A fine dust coated every surface — a mixture of dirty ash and mountain snow.

  Malja saw no signs of people. Not even a furtive peek from a window corner. Nothing. She listened for a slipped foot or dropped object or a hushed voice. Nothing. The place was a cemetery.

  Cole led them down one street, and Malja tried to memorize the turn. Lampposts lined this new street along with plenty of evidence attesting to the horrid nature of the city's inhabitants. From each lamppost hung a body. On each body, the skin covering the head had been removed, the head had been hollowed out, and a candle had been mounted in the skull. The dim light provided unsettling shadows across the ash-covered street. Tumus murmured a prayer.

  A few blocks further in, they came upon a humble building surrounded by waist-high grass. The buildings around this one structure had been razed to the ground. An altar poked out from the grass. A statue of Moonlo lay in several pieces.

  "The Kryssta Temple," Cole said. They turned north. Cole pointed into the dark and said, "Straight that way, several miles, we'll come upon the Skyway Bridge."

  On the next block, Malja noticed footprints in the dust. Just a few at first. But eventually enough that the others noticed, too.

  "Are we being watched?" Tumus asked.

  "Probably," Malja said.

  They came upon a massive, circular fountain with the far end dipping back, tilting the whole thing toward the buildings. The street bent around the structure which Malja thought looked more like a lake than a fountain. The stagnant water reeked. A statue in the middle rose several stories — or, it once did. Now it was a pair of legs surrounded by piles of rubble.

  As they walked on, bullet holes marked walls and doors. Burnt-out grounders and smashed storefronts lined the streets. A flyer teetered part way in a lone wall, as if unsure whether or not to crash to the ground. Craters pocked the sidewalks. Smoldering fires scented all the evidence of the previous night's fighting.

  The deeper in they traveled, the worse the city looked. Graffiti marred the cracked and ruined walls — violent and pornographic images painted in mud, charcoal, and blood. Like old advertisements, the words CALLIB IS KING and JARIK RULES weaved around the pictures. Bodies with fresh wounds decorated walkways. Worse — body parts littered the streets.

  The last of dusk's sunlight disappeared. Malja ordered they set camp for the night with two of them guarding in shifts. They picked the sturdiest-looking building and settled in on the third floor. Malja denied Cole's request for a campfire. "It'll attract too much attention." So, they huddled up and attempted to sleep in the cold mountain night.

  Only Skvalan could sleep. The others shivered and paced and kept watch. They listened to the skirmishes ignite and fade out, but none of the fighting reached the scale they had witnessed during their approach to the city. Apparently Cole had been right — Jarik and Callib's presence helped tame things.

  During one of the lulls, Tumus came up to Malja with a stern face. "I think you truly believe Tommy is alive, and that being so, I must tell you something you don't want to hear."

  The first thought to pierce Malja's mind — Tommy's dead and Tumus has known all along. She came close to striking Tumus. Even repositioned her feet to provide a strong leap. But she recalled that Tumus also believed Tommy was alive.

  Oblivious to Malja's reaction, Tumus went on. "I know you hate me and blame me for all this, but that blame is false. I did not seek to disobey your commands. Tommy did." Tumus stepped back from the wild glower in Malja's eyes. "Tommy asked me to take him back to Dead Lake, to Barris Mont. He said if I refused, he'd do it on his own."

  "It's amazing he said all that," Malja said. She leaped to her feet and gripped Tumus by the throat. "Especially considering the boy hasn't spoken a word since I've met him."

  Tumus did not squirm. She spoke calmly, though straining for air, and she bore her gaze into Malja with religious conviction. "He did not speak with words. He drew pi
ctures on the walls."

  Malja thought of the huge circle, the little circles, the arrows and dots she had discovered. She let go of Tumus and turned away. "He told you he wanted to go back? Maybe you misunderstood."

  "No. We spent hours going over his pictures until I knew quite clearly his desires. He can feel the changes going on inside him. He knows he has potential, and permit me to say that he has astounding potential, but he's being kept back and he wants to learn how to control his powers. Barris Mont could help him, and Tommy wanted that."

  "You think you know him better than me?"

  "In some ways, yes. I'm not afraid of what he is, and I don't shun him for it, either."

  "I do not—"

  "It doesn't matter what you say to me. I'm telling you this, because if we find him, when we find him, you should be prepared that he's not the boy you're trying to make him."

  Before Malja could say more, Tumus left her alone. Malja leaned against a windowsill and watched the empty street below. The half-moon cast its pale light on the debris, creating grotesque shadows and illusions of depth. Good light for hiding. She poured her energy into searching those shadows for enemies — better than thinking about what Tumus had said.

  An hour later, as her head lolled to the side, somebody tripped and cursed while scurrying down the street. The noise startled Malja awake. She spotted the person in seconds. Not a person, really. A griffle. And not just any griffle. This one was small — a runt — and had several white tufts on its head.

  Malja checked if anyone else had awoken. Both Tumus and Cole had finally fallen asleep. Skvalan, however, stared at her with sharp eyes.

  She waved him over and whispered, "Keep watch. I have to check something out."

  Skvalan crossed his arms and looked around. Malja couldn't tell if he was questioning her or foggy from just waking up. Finally, he nodded and slipped in next to the window. "Don't take long time," he said.

  Malja hurried outside and down the street. Following the griffle was easy. The little creature made such a racket, a blind man could catch him.

  They traveled several blocks west and turned south for a few blocks more. The night air chilled Malja's nose, but her assault suit kept her body warm. She moved fast and kept her eyes searching for attacks. As much as the griffle's noise made him easy to follow, it also could attract unwanted attention.

  Around a towering rubble pile, Malja saw the dancing orange light of a fire. She pulled out Viper and readied for what she might find — a horde of griffles, perhaps, or even some bizarre religious rite. She wasn't sure what she hoped to gain, but as Gregor would say, "Coincidence is just an excuse not to delve into the Why of something." That griffle could not be in this city by accident, not at the same time she sought Jarik and Callib, and she wanted to know why it was here.

  As she rounded the rubble pile, she discovered her answer, and while she had no expectations, she never expected anything like this. Fawbry.

  "Here, here, I've got food," the griffle said, jumping around while Fawbry lay with his back against a lamppost. He looked tired and bruised — his left cheek puffed and dark. His lovely coat, now blotted with dirt, lacked its usual sheen. "Eat, eat. Then read, Mayor, please read."

  Fawbry patted the white tufts and nibbled on something dark and round. Before he could swallow, the griffle tugged at Fawbry's coat pocket. Fawbry grinned through gritted teeth and pulled out his little Book of Kryssta.

  "Okay," he said. "Calm down. I'll read one more, but then we've got to get some sleep." He thumbed the pages until he settled on one. "Listen, now.

  Though Time is infinite —

  Ours is a flicker of candlelight —

  It is ours to burn away"

  "Whee!" the griffle shouted and rolled on the ground. "That's my new favorite."

  "Shhh," Fawbry said. "We have to stay quiet."

  Malja surveyed the area one more time but still found no threats. She stepped into view and nodded at Fawbry. "Hi there," she said.

  Fawbry and the griffle jumped to their feet. Fawbry fought against wincing, but his hand went up to his side and rubbed a sore spot. When he saw who had spoken, his posture dropped, and Malja caught a disappointed scowl flash across his face. But he broke out a smile.

  "Malja. I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I'm happy to see you."

  "What are you doing here?" she asked, not bothering to pretend smiling.

  Fawbry glanced around. "Are you alone?"

  "Are you?"

  Opening his arms, he said, "It's just us two. Really."

  Malja stomped toward Fawbry and raised Viper, poised to strike. "You better explain what you're doing here. How is it that you didn't know where Jarik and Callib were, yet here you are? That doesn't happen by accident."

  Fawbry shrunk back. "I see nothing's changed for you. Calm down. No need for that. It's all easy to explain."

  "Explain fast."

  "Well, the short side of it is that after I left you, I headed west."

  "Why west?"

  "South is the Freelands, North is my family, and East ends at the ocean. None of those were good options. I couldn't go to Barris Mont without you. I wouldn't dare. So, I just wandered west for some time. A few days ago, I ran into two trogets. You ever seen them? Big brutes with horns running down their spines. They wanted to eat me. I tried to read them some of the Book of Kryssta because it worked with the griffles. Turns out it only kind of worked this time. They decided not to kill me, because they thought they might get a bigger reward if they brought somebody with brains to their masters."

  "Let me guess — Jarik and Callib."

  "They had me held near the edge of the city. Tufts and several other griffles ended up here after you broke up my little gang. He's always been loyal. So when he saw me, he helped me escape."

  The griffle puffed his chest. "I did that."

  "You looking for protection now?" Malja asked. "Is that why you're speaking nice to me?"

  "I'm talking to you at all, because you've got that curved blade ready to eviscerate me." Fawbry put his arm around the griffle. "But we are on the run. So, we would appreciate your protection, of course, but I'm not trying to lie to you. I'm not trying to be falsely nice or anything like that." He raised his arm to reveal the stump where his hand should have been. "When I left, I was angry. I'm still angry. But I've never been outright stupid, either. I don't want to be here." He leaned close to Malja and whispered, "Frankly, I pretty much figured we were dead. I was just comforting the little guy and stalling. So if you can help me, if you're willing, then I'll gladly take your help."

  Malja sheathed Viper. "You don't want to be here with me. I'll just make a bigger mess for you. Besides, I'm not leaving here. Not yet. I'm going after Jarik and Callib, and I'm going to rescue Tommy."

  "Tommy? What happened to him?"

  The genuine concern in Fawbry's voice, the worry bordering on fear, touched Malja. Hesitantly, she went on, "I think Jarik and Callib have him."

  Fawbry exchanged looks with the griffle. "No, no, no. This can't be. We were just sitting here reading from the Book about life and why we're here at all. I was trying to tell Tufts how I appreciated the risks he took for me, and how life is about doing for others, and that if you do that, if you help others, then good things come your way."

  "Kryssta says that?"

  Fawbry shrugged. "Everything I've ever done was for myself. Even helping you was just a way to stay safe enough to get to Barris Mont. And in the end, all it got me was the loss of my hand and almost being eaten by a couple of trogets. But this little guy here snuck in while those beasts slept, untied me, got me out, got me food, all because he believes in the Book and in me."

  "Careful, you're starting to sound like Tumus."

  "Look, I don't know what I'm thinking, exactly, but something's different. You suddenly show up right when we're talking about all this. Maybe Kryssta's trying to tell me that if instead of getting you to help me, that if I help you save Tommy, maybe t
hings'll get better for me. No, that's crazy. I've been through a lot. My brain's not working right. But still, that's how I read it."

  "Me read it, too," Tufts said. "We help. We get good things. We help. We help."

  Malja didn't want to take him along, but she felt wrong leaving him here. "Cole's with us," she warned.

  Looking around with awe, Fawbry shrugged. "Doesn't matter. This isn't about me."

  With a frown, Malja said, "Okay. Follow me. And keep that griffle quiet on our way back. I'm tired, and I don't want to fight tonight."

  They returned in silence. Malja tried to equate this Fawbry with the one who had left her back in the Freelands. Something had changed, and she thought it had to be more than just coming close to dying. That could change a person, but life in this world was full of chances to die. It could be a scary, altering experience, at first, but after awhile, even danger becomes routine.

  When they got back to the others, they settled in for the remaining few hours of night. Malja surprised herself — she fell asleep within minutes.

  * * * *

  The following morning arrived to the shocked gasps of Cole and Tumus. Before they could ask a coherent question, Malja said, "I found them last night, and they're coming with us. This is about Jarik and Callib and Tommy. All your problems with each other get buried for now. Understood?"

  Tumus glowered. Cole let out a sigh. But both women nodded.

  "Good," Malja said. "Then let's get going."

  The day passed in an arduous, silent hike. Miles of rubble piled against shells of once-towering buildings. The stench of rotting corpses flowed in and out, blending with the ever-present rich aroma of burnt wood.

  Tufts had the energy of a child. At times, he would race ahead like a scout, or he'd circle members of the group — studying faces and embracing scents. Fawbry brought up the rear, keeping his distance from the others but staying close enough for protection.