Secrets of the Elders Kindle Version

by David Matthew Almond

  “We should stop for a short rest while we can.” He said. Logan nodded, spying an area ahead where a large fallen stalagmite blocked their way. Without any hesitation and still running at full speed, they jumped up, climbing quickly over the obstacle.

  “This is as good a place as any.” Corbin said as they came down the other side, already getting ready to pull a pack of flint from his satchel.

  “We will not need a fire tonight, little brother. Don’t want to attract any undue attention, eh? Plus we won’t even be here long enough to warrant the work.” Logan said, stopping him from gathering dried wood at the edge of the forest.

  A man-sized gastropod stirred, hearing the thumping men enter its territory. The mammals sounded nice and heavy, good eating, enough even for it to share with its brothers and sisters in the area. Normally it would attack right away but these creatures were moving quickly on their feet. The oversized snail settled itself to wait for the right opportunity.

  Logan plopped down, leaning against a cropping of large stones that formed a perfect little cozy nook. Ahead of them, the path continued through a dense copse of trees that would stretch on for about an hour, according to the map Gunter had given them. It was a slightly more unpredictable trek then they had been traveling, so the decision to stop and rest for a bit was wise. They would need all their wits about them to keep from falling into a predator’s trap in those woods, he reasoned. This area was bad enough, with the Crystal at full brilliance, exposing them to any hungry beast around. But, even worse right now would be the dark forest, as the last waning waves of light emitted from the Crystal. Soon enough it would be out completely and the time of Culhada would begin.

  Logan laid his small food pack on top of the nearest rock, which came up to just under his head. It was always a good idea to keep food off the ground where something might scurry away with it while they rested. He leaned back against the rock face, which was strangely warm and comforting, crossing his arms over his chest, to consider his brother for a moment, while Corbin unpacked his things, laying them neatly in preparation for prayer. Before they left, Corbin had spent a few minutes talking with Elise alone. He did not hear their conversation, but understood enough to know she was telling his little brother not to worry about her and to hurry back.

  “Why do you waste your time with that nonsense?” he asked Corbin, not for the first time, referring to his devotion to the god, Baetylus.

  Corbin scowled at his brother. “You should show respect to our All-Father, Logan. Even you are not above his radiance, no matter how much you laugh at the world he has provided us.” His words rolled off Logan like water over stone. He could care less about worshipping idols, and wasting time with rituals. Where was this Baetylus when his mother was killed? Where was the All-Father earlier when the village was torn asunder?

  “Whatever you say little guy, just don’t expect me to come over there bowing to the Crystal in the dirt with you.” He replied, rolling his eyes before sinking into his own thoughts, thinking of their destination. Long had he dreamed of visiting the capitol city, he wanted badly to see the intrigue of civilized society. The great palaces filled with lords and ladies in Fal kept him awake many a night in wonder when he was a child. Thinking something funny, he was about to tease his prostrate brother again when a sharp prick stabbed the back of his left hand.

  The rock behind him rumbled, rearing up to reveal the head of a giant land snail, or rather the rock itself was actually the gastropod’s protective shell. Logan cursed himself for a fool, digging his heels into the dirt to try and stop the snail from reeling him in. It roared at him as it contracted the long tongue-like radula that had its teeth gripped around the flesh of his hand two feet away from a slavering maw. With his free hand already gripping his knife he stabbed at the extended fleshy radula to no avail. The teeth covering the tongue-like appendage were oozing in thick saliva that acted as a rock hard coating to stop its prey from breaking free.

  The giant snail had encountered prey like this before and knew just how to handle them. It flexed the radula as it roared, swinging the human to the side against the real boulders. As Logan bounced off the hard surface, his body went limp, knife flying out of reach, while he fought to regain his senses. The hungry snail took that opportunity to reel him in closer.

  Corbin watched in horror as the sneaky creature quickly attacked his brother. Flipping his spear over his shoulder, he was already running into the fray. With a flick of his wrist, he burst forth lunging with the tip of the spear, dancing up the rock face beside the creature to leap through the air. The monster snail let out a high-pitched roar as Corbin came down, slicing his weapon through the thick meaty middle of its grasping tongue. White juices oozed forth in a stream sizzling in the dirt, as it retracted the appendage with a high-pitched wail of pain.

  Logan himself let out a whelp as the beast’s tongue loosened on his wrist, the teeth popping free to reveal a swollen hand riddled with cuts. Flipping over onto his back, he lay propped on one elbow holding his right wrist and trying to regain his senses. Corbin stood as a barrier between him and the giant snail, protectively holding his spear at length to keep the beast at bay. The hungry gastropod backed ever so slightly away; never taking its eyestalks off his swaying movements. Another snail roared in the distance, close by up the rocky slope, calling out to the creature in response to its cry of anguish.

  “Corbin, we better get out of here before the bastard’s friends come for dinner.” Logan warned, pulling himself to his feet despite the pain in his hand. If there were two in the area there were sure to be many more. While Corbin kept the beast hard pressed, stinging its soft flesh with his spear and dodging a lunge, Logan quickly gathered up his knife from the dirt.

  “We must be away from here before more of the monsters come!” Logan insisted hoarsely, flinching and fighting the racking pain in his knuckles to pull Corbin by the shoulder toward the edge of forest.

  “Perhaps I should finish this one first?” Corbin asked, threatening the creature as he stalked in to stab again, where it mewled wounded. Logan tried to shout a warning, already reflexively leaping toward his brother. The land snails had a sneaky defense if anyone came close enough, shooting highly toxic saliva from their mouth that, if it made contact, would melt their prey’s flesh into the edible liquid they preferred feasting upon. It was a defense Logan had seen once before and never wished to see again. His body hit Corbin with enough force to send them both flying out of the way just in time, while simultaneously flicking his wrist toward the land snail. Now the mewling noise turned to a death screech, as his knife burrowed itself deeply into the snail’s head, just between its eyestalks.

  The brothers lay there for a moment thinking on what just happened, or nearly could have happened, watching the giant land snail shudder in its death throes while meekly retreating inside its shell. Again, the roar came from up the rocky slope, but this time a much closer answer rang out behind them, just down the side of the cliff into the valley.

  “I believe that was our last warning!” Logan scrambled to his feet, as Corbin quickly gathered their packs, and they fled into the forest.

  Elise dropped the bloody cloth into a bucket of cold water again, swirling it around to get as much of the filth off as possible, before pulling it out and wringing the water over the pal. Her aching hands carefully worked back and forth, cleaning the long cuts running down farmer Benn’s spine. His shirt had been shredded when the skex attacked him from behind, and they stripped the bloody rags off, laying the unconscious man face down on one of the wooden tables in the town hall to tend his wounds.

  The long log cabin was filled to overflowing with the groans and moaning of the wounded victims from the skex attack. As soon as she finished tending one patient, another appeared, it almost seemed to be an infinite stream of her friends and family that did not make it out of the raid without being hurt in some way. Though they all would equally share the psychological damage for years
to come. She had been working non-stop since the Walker brothers left the village to warn the capitol and it was starting to catch up on her body.

  Elise’s arms were sore, her fingers barely able to move anymore from hours of cleaning cuts and stitching wounds. She had no tears left, her blue eyes stung dry, red, and swollen and her curly blonde hair was frayed, hanging wildly from a bun she had tied behind her head.

  “Ahem, Madame Elise…” Rygor cleared his throat, startling her.

  Elise turned around red-faced, “Oh…I did not hear you come up,” she said, realizing she must have been nodding off while taking care of farmer Benn, “what is it Rygor, do you have a final count?”

  The man solemnly nodded his head. “Yes Madame Elise…we are up to thirty-four wounded, seven of them were minor injuries but the other twenty eight...”

  The number loomed before her; thirty-four of her fellow villagers had been hurt in the attack! “And how many are still missing?” she asked, scared to hear the answer.

  “We are still tallying it up Madame... but it’s not good I can tell you that.” Rygor wrung his bony hands with a faraway expression creeping across his face.

  Elder Morgana had been teaching her the ways of leadership since she was a mere babe, seeing some potential in her for greatness, and preparing Elise for this moment all her life. Surely, the village Elder had not anticipated a skex attack would be the catalyst to put her in the role of village leader, but everyone seemed to be falling right in step with it.

  A stream of villagers had already come to Elise asking her what to do next or how to solve a medical predicament. When she was young, all she wanted to do was spend time with the Walker brothers, not knowing then that she would fall madly in love with one of them, but Elder Morgana, the boy’s surrogate mother, had always told her she needed to focus on her studies so she could one day become a wise leader for Riverbell. At the time, she had scoffed at the notion, but after the disastrous events that had engulfed their small peaceful farming village, she finally came to fully appreciate just what knowledge she possessed.

  Firming up, Elise rubbed the weariness out of her eyes, willing herself to put on a show of strength for Rygor’s benefit. “Now is not the time to dwell in sorrow Rygor. Now is the time to help those that need us to keep our heads clear.” She advised, trying to sound confident and wise through parched lips and the lump in her throat.

  A light flickered in the man’s eyes and he shook his head. “Oh I know…I know, don’t you doubt it,” he said, looking at her with wide eyes that held puffy red bags under them, “it’s just I keep thinking about those monsters and it’s got my blood freezing.”

  A flash of the horrible creatures feasting on her friend Garrison, a man her own age, that they used to play hide-n-seek with when they were all children, ran across her mind’s eye. The image of him screaming and clawing the ground while tentacles pulled the skin off his back in strips haunted her. “We mustn’t think such things.” She groaned.

  “You’re right Madame… Of course, I’ll tell you one thing though, I certainly don’t envy those poor wretches in Fal, they’ve no idea what hell is about to rain down on them, do they?” he asked.

  Elise dropped the cloth to her feet, Garrison replaced by images of Corbin thrashing underneath the slavering insects in her imagination.

  “Would you get out of here and go do something?!” Bertha snapped, moving away from the table next to them and clapping the side of Rygor’s head with the flat of her hand. “You’ve gone up and worried the poor lass.”

  Rygor rubbed the back of his earlobe, ashamed that he had forgotten about Corbin racing to warn the capitol, surely if and when the swarm arrived he would be there to face them…if he even made it there in one piece. Rygor stumbled over an apology and quickly retreated down to the other side of the long log cabin, to tend what wounded he could help.

  “Never you mind him sweet girl…he don’t mean nothing by it, just being a stupid man that’s all.” Bertha comforted her, soothingly patting Elise’s shoulder.

  “Oh I know he wasn’t thinking before he spoke.” Elise agreed, holding back the panic in her voice as she bent over to pick up the washcloth and place it back in the bucket. “Besides, even if he hadn’t mentioned it, I still can’t help but think about poor Corbin out there all alone.” As she finished the thought, tears she could not believe were still in her, began to pour out of her eyes uncontrollably.

  Bertha pulled her in, cradling Elise’s head against her heavy bosom and stroking the young woman’s hair. “Now now my dear, you know as well as anyone how capable your fiancée is. If there was ever a man that could take care of himself, surely it’s Corbin Walker. And he ain’t alone, why Logan is out there with him too.”

  Elise nodded her head, her sobs muffled under the large woman’s embrace. Corbin was not only the finest hunter in Riverbell, but also one of its most skilled warriors. In fact, he was only paralleled in prowess by one other person, his older brother Logan. Except where Corbin spent years honing his skills under the disciplined tutelage of sensei Rimball, Logan seemed to be a natural talent, who possessed lightning fast reflexes and brute strength to match even the finest fighters. Many in the village even claimed, if he had not turned his back on Rimball’s teachings early in life, Logan would have been even more adept at the techniques than his younger brother became. She knew the real problem facing them was not their ability to defend themselves, but their ability to get along for more than ten minutes at a time. It seemed the older they grew, the more bitter and grouchy Logan was becoming, appearing to irrationally resent his younger brother.

  Elise pulled herself back a step, gripping Bertha’s arms and slowly nodding her head. The woman was right, and even if she was not, Elise had to have faith that the Walker brothers would make it to Fal in time to warn them before anymore senseless death occurred.

  “Thank you Bertha…sorry I lost my head for a moment there.” She apologized, trying to assure the woman she was okay once more.

  Bertha scrunched her pudgy nose, “Oh darling it’s nothing to apologize over. To think this is the way you would inherit the mantle of leadership…it’s all almost too much to take.”

  Agreeing with the insanity of it all, Elise set the older woman to fetch clean water while she returned to tending farmer Benn’s wounds, wrapping them with strips of cloth she had torn from a pile of old dresses they had stacked in the corner. Looking down the length of the cabin, she saw the next person in need of her assistance and wondered how many more people they had crammed into the nearby community room. The image of Corbin being mauled by a skex seared unbidden across her mind again. Clenching her eyes shut, Elise shook her head hard to ward off the visage “No more time for silly fears.” She thought, ordering herself to focus on the task at-hand.

  Looking back at the rows of victims, she knew her attention was sorely needed here and now. Yet, as Elise moved to help one of the men lift a wounded woman, so that they could stitch her ribs, she could not help but wonder where her fiancée was at that very moment and whether he was still alive.

  Chapter 5

  Another hour passed with the Walker brothers not slowing their pace, running as if the creatures were hot on their heels. The fact that they had not heard any calls from the giant land snails in half that time did not curb their caution in the least. Based on what he knew of their insatiable appetites Logan assumed the beasts were most likely feasting on their slain kindred. Corbin had applied some ointment to Logan’s knuckles, which quickly stopped the flow of bleeding from his swollen hand. Trying to flex the muscles in it gave little reaction, aching from the wrist down.

  If they did not get to the city soon, not only would they be too late to warn of the swarm, but also he would not be in time to be healed either. Corbin wrapped Logan’s wounds with some granch leaves, saying that they would help keep it sterile, but unfortunately, that would not be enough unless they hurried. Corbin outpaced him now by a good five
strides and he was losing more ground as they ran. Logan needed to stay focused on running and clear his mind of all else. The forest was getting sparser, letting in more light from the waning Crystal. “It will be good to be out of this damnable place,” he thought.

  “The town is just ahead, Logan!” Corbin called back to keep him moving.

  “Corbin…we cannot stop for too long. I have to get to a healer…” he moaned feverishly, waves of nausea had been washing over him for a while now. His younger brother stopped and took his hand in his own, examining it with concern, then wrapped the bandage tighter where it had loosened. Logan winced silently, refusing to let his brother see any sign of weakness.

  “We will be there soon, keep strong as long as you can and I can carry you the rest of the way if need be.” Corbin tried to soothe him, earning a scowl from Logan who slapped his brother’s hand off his shoulder, shocking him.

  “I can run on my own, Peck.” He scowled. Corbin hated that nickname, they had read it in an old fantasy tale, and it always irked him to hear it. When they were children, Logan would call him that when he was being annoying and following him around everywhere. It was uncalled for; did he really need to be stubbornly proud at a moment like this? His little brother was only trying to help him after all.

  “Fine then, rest for five and then we are on our way. There is not a moment to spare...of course you are correct.” Corbin replied curtly, clearly offended by Logan’s flippant attitude.

  Logan ignored him, continuing along the path toward the cliff, where a rope bridge extended across the gaping valley below. It appeared to not have been used in many years, yet seemed to be sturdy enough to hold his weight. Corbin shook his head at his brother’s stubbornness; dropping down to pull a kala root and catching up to give it as a peace offering. He did not want to get into a petty argument when so much was at stake. Eating the root immediately invigorated Logan’s body; clearing his mind from the cloud of pain he had been mired under. It would not heal his hand, but sure did the trick to give him the pick-me-up needed and would help get them to their destination three times faster than without.