by Lou Anders
The tunnel went mostly northward, descending as it did so. Despite having to lead the blind surface dweller, Desstra found that she was breathing easily and a smile had come to her face. It felt wonderful to be under the earth again. She had grown up in the caverns of the Svartálfaheim Mountains of Norrøngard and, apart from the fact that her own kind probably wanted her dead, she was enjoying this taste of home. Not so much the girl beside her.
“Not having fun?” she asked.
“I miss the woods,” Daphne replied. “The great forests are all in the west and north. They don’t have anything like them here. The trees don’t grow very tall in the south, and they cut down most of them anyway.”
“I bet that goes over well with your kind,” said Desstra. “Why do the tree folk put up with it?”
“Thican fire,” said Daphne. “What choice do you have when you’re made of wood?”
“I can see your point,” said Desstra.
“I wish I could see anything,” said the girl. Despite herself, the elf laughed at this, and the dryad laughed as well.
“Come on, tree girl, let’s get you out of here. Then we can see what trouble Thianna’s gotten herself into now.”
“What are they?” marveled Karn.
The creatures were the strangest things he had ever seen. They had the front half of a horse, including the forelegs, but it was attached to a rooster’s wings, tail, and legs. They had yellow plumage, but their horse’s coats and manes varied in color.
“They’re called hippalektryons,” said Asterius. “And they’re fast!” he added enthusiastically.
Karn heard shouts from outside the stable walls.
“Good,” he said. “We’re going to need fast.”
He turned to the hippalektryon in front of him. Its hair was a lustrous black with a gorgeous yellow mane that blended smoothly into its feathers.
“Okay, nice horse-rooster,” he said. “Don’t bite me. Or peck me. Or whatever you do.”
He opened the stall and guided the animal forward. Although its front looked like a horse, it cocked its head at him in a birdlike gesture. Taking this as his cue, Karn scooped some of the chicken feed off the floor and held it for the animal. It nibbled from his palm appreciatively. He let it eat for just a few moments.
“Sorry, no time for a long meal,” Karn said. “We need to be on our way.”
He steadied himself on a wing, then hopped up onto the creature’s back. It trotted toward the doorway.
“Don’t just stand there!” Karn yelled to Asterius, who was still gaping at the creatures in admiration. “Come on!” Then he patted the hippalektryon. “At least you seem to know what you’re doing.”
—
Karn and Asterius galloped out of the stable just as two soldiers were approaching the door. The women fell back, surprised. The bull boy whooped enthusiastically. Karn didn’t think he’d be satisfied until he’d alerted the whole city to their location.
Instinctively, they steered toward the south gate to the land bridge. In their wake, the soldiers shouted ineffectually at them to stop. The ride was surprisingly smooth given the creature’s mismatched legs. Karn couldn’t suppress a grin. Growing up, most of his riding had been in ox-drawn carts. This was something else entirely!
As they neared the southernmost exit from Caldera, Karn’s expression soured. Five soldiers stood blocking their path, and the portcullis was lowered for the evening.
“We’re cut off!” he hollered to his companions.
“Keep going!” shouted Asterius.
“The gate is down!” Karn yelled. “What are you going to do, ram it?”
He pictured the minotaur battering at the steel bars with his thick skull. No matter how stubborn Asterius was, the results wouldn’t be pretty.
“Trust me,” Asterius shouted, “I know what I’m doing!” Then the minotaur dug his heels into his hippalektryon’s flank. The mount responded with a burst of speed. Karn did the same, and his own hippalektryon quickened its pace.
The soldiers spotted them and raised weapons and shields. Karn was close enough now to see the anxiety on their faces. He shared it. The hippalektryons weren’t slowing down or turning aside.
Karn looked at the array of sharpened swords. They might barrel the guards over, but they would be skewered in the process, then smash against the gate. And still the hippalektryons ran. Karn forced himself not to close his eyes.
Suddenly the hippalektryons sprang on their rooster legs. They rose into the air, beating their wings in an ungainly manner. Karn and Asterius sailed over the wall.
“They can fly?” asked Karn, laughing through his amazement.
“Only short distances,” replied Asterius.
Flapping, clucking, and neighing, the hippalektryons soared for a few hundred yards, then came down heavily in the dust of the land bridge.
“Kikiriki!” his mount crowed in triumph.
Karn patted its neck.
“I know just how you feel,” he said. He had never ridden any animal that could move so fast. Not the wyverns. Not even the dragon Orma. He looked at the rocky ground racing under his feet and felt a wave of dizziness.
“Hippalektryon Riding: lesson one,” he said. “Don’t look down.”
“Nervous?” shouted Asterius beside him.
“Yes!” Karn called back.
“Don’t fall off, then.”
“Lesson two,” said Karn. Then he worried about the probable lesson three—fighting on a horse-rooster. He didn’t doubt they’d experience that lesson soon enough. And so, despite holding on for dear life to the neck of the hippalektryon, he risked a glance back at the city. He wasn’t surprised to see a cloud of dust rising into the air, and under it four mounted soldiers in pursuit.
“We’ve got company,” he said.
“And they’re gaining,” replied the minotaur.
“They know how to ride these things,” said Karn. “We’re just learning.”
The Norrønur looked at the terrain ahead, searching for any features he could use to their advantage. Asterius was leading them southwest. The foothills of the enormous central mountain range were to their right, open grasslands to their left, and straight ahead only lowlying hills.
“They’ll overtake us on flat ground,” he said. “We’re outnumbered and out-armed.” He pointed to the foothills of the mountains on their right. “We head there. It’ll even the odds and maybe give us a chance to hide.”
“Who put you in charge?” said Asterius, but the minotaur was already steering his mount in the direction Karn suggested.
At the speed the hippalektryons were moving, the companions reached the foothills just as the first burst from a Thican fire lance blasted a boulder beside them. Karn’s mount squawked and veered sharply, nearly slinging him off. Karn clung tightly to the animal’s neck.
“Don’t stop!” he yelled. Karn hoped that the speed and the uneven ground would combine to make aiming the long lances difficult. “Faster!” he cried. The hippalektryon must have understood, because it let out another cry of “Kikiriki” and tore forward.
At these speeds, the terrain was changing almost faster than Karn could blink. They entered a valley strewn with boulders. The moon and her satellite above cast strange patterns of light and shadow. The northern boy set his mouth in a grim smile. The game board had just become more interesting.
“Weave and dodge!” he shouted as another burst of flame arced over his head. Feathers singed at the tips of the hippalektryon’s wings. Karn steered as close to the rocks as he dared, whipping around the stones with only a tight margin of error.
A Calderan soldier appeared on his left. She smiled evilly at him as she brought her fire lance to bear. Karn drew Whitestorm and the woman laughed. He wasn’t close enough for a sword to be any good. Or so she thought. Karn hurled his father’s blade at the soldier’s face. Surprised, she batted at it and the sword fell away. Her expression said she didn’t understand why he would throw his weapon away so ne
edlessly. He smiled in return and pointed. The woman looked up just in time to see the boulder. She struck it at speed, feathers flying everywhere.
“Whitestorm!” Karn shouted over his shoulder, and was rewarded when the sword returned to his grasp. Then he had to duck quickly as his mount ran under a large slab of rock that lay at an angle across a pile of boulders. Behind him, he heard a squawk that suggested another soldier hadn’t been so lucky. Sometimes being the fugitive had its advantages. It was easier to run than to aim, chase, and steer all at the same time.
The terrain changed again. They were riding through what looked like an abandoned city nestled in a broad valley. Karn noticed several buildings that looked like dilapidated sports arenas. Then his attention was diverted by Asterius’s bellowing.
A soldier was chopping at the minotaur with her sword, but the boy was fending her off with deft slashes of his horns. Then, as Karn watched, Asterius launched himself off of his hippalektryon onto his opponent’s. He and the soldier wrestled atop the squawking, braying mount. Then both combatants tumbled to the ground.
Karn steered his animal into a tight turn, and went back to help. He screeched to a halt and dismounted. Asterius had the soldier pinned down.
Karn removed the woman’s weapons.
“Let her up,” he instructed.
“But…,” objected Asterius.
“She’s the last of them. And she’s disarmed.” Karn looked at the struggling soldier. “You’re outnumbered. Give me your word you’ll head back to Caldera and I’ll let you go.” He looked around. “Or we could tie you to a rock here and you can hope one of your friends finds you in a couple of days.”
The soldier looked around at the ruins, made ghostly in the moonslight. The prospect of being left there obviously didn’t appeal to her.
“I swear by Sestia, goddess of war,” she said. “I will return to Caldera.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Karn. He motioned for Asterius to let the soldier rise to her feet. She glared at the bull, then turned and mounted her hippalektryon.
“We’ll be back,” she said.
“We won’t be here,” said Karn.
The woman kicked her heels into her mount’s sides and streaked away. In seconds, she had vanished.
“Well, that was fun,” said Karn. He looked around at their surroundings, studying the ruins. It was easy to imagine creatures lurking amid the crumbling stones, watching them from the shadows. Karn shivered. “Let’s get out of here,” he said.
Regrettably, the hippalektryons seemed to have other ideas.
Digging his heels into its flanks didn’t produce any result. The mount stood steadfast and refused to move.
“Why’d they stop?” he asked.
“Because they’re stupid,” Asterius replied unhelpfully.
Then Karn noticed his mount’s hind legs. The oversize rooster feet were clawing at the dirt. He had grown up caring for chickens at Korlundr’s Farm. He recognized this gesture immediately.
“They’re hungry,” he said. “Moving as fast as they do surely burns a lot of energy. That’s the price of their speed. You get a quick burst, then you have to fill them back up.”
Unfortunately, they had left Caldera in too great a hurry to grab saddles and bridles, let alone hay or chicken feed. Karn was unhopeful as he looked at the rocky soil.
“Not much for them here,” he said. Karn struggled again to get his mount to move, but the hippalektryon wouldn’t budge. “It looks like we’re stuck until we find some feed.” He looked around at the ruins. “Any idea what this place is, anyway?”
“I know,” a sultry voice purred.
Karn closed his eyes briefly before he looked up. He’d met a dragon the last time he’d taken refuge in a ruined city. Who knows what this was going to be? He turned to face the speaker.
“Welcome to the Sanctuary of Empyria. Or what remains of it, anyway.”
Sitting on a nearby rooftop basking in moonsbeams was a bizarre creature. It had the haunches of a lion but the face of a woman. Her long black hair fell down to shoulders that appeared human but became a lion’s forelegs before ending in paws.
“Pardon me for asking,” said Karn, “but are you by any chance a manticore?”
“Filthy beasts,” said the creature, hissing in disgust. She swished a very lionlike tail, perhaps to show that she lacked a manticore’s scorpionlike stinger.
“She’s a sphinx,” said Asterius. “And we’re in serious trouble.”
“This is me getting impatient,” said Thianna to Jasius.
“Just a little farther now,” said the beardless young dactyl. “We’re almost there, and believe me, everybody wants to meet you.”
Thianna grumbled and tried to get comfortable, but it was difficult. She was riding on a litter being carried by a small band of dwarves. And it was hardly a smooth ride. They jostled her up and down while a chorus of curses and complaints issued from beneath her chair.
When Thianna had first tumbled through the hidden door into the cavern, Jasius had been waiting with a torch to greet her. Then he had whistled and more dactyls had come scurrying out of the dark, bearing the litter along with gifts of food. Jasius had promised her answers if only she’d come with them.
Beneath her, one of the dactyls stumbled on a stone in their path.
“I can walk, you know,” she said.
“It’s no trouble,” said the dwarf. Then he grunted. “Actually, it’s a little trouble.”
“I told you she was big,” said Jasius. “It’s your fault you didn’t bring more dactyls.” To Thianna he said, “Go on, try a grape.”
Feeling somewhat awkward, the frost giant bit into the little purple fruit. Sweet juice squirted into her mouth. She gobbled several more.
“Good, yes?” said Jasius, smiling. “Bet you don’t get those where you’re from.”
“We don’t,” said Thianna. “Not much grows in Ymiria, though we do trade with the humans for fruit.” She ate another grape. “Strawberries, bilberries, lingonberries, cloudberries.”
“How did you get so big on berries?” asked one of her litter bearers. “What else do you eat?”
“I hope it’s not dwarves,” said another.
“I have had apples,” said the giantess. “Cheese. Occasional fish. Also goat, but, um, don’t tell any satyrs I said that.”
There was a general muttering of agreement at the wisdom of this. Then Jasius turned and made an exaggerated bow.
“Lady Frostborn,” he said, “welcome to Caldera Under Caldera.”
Thianna was snickering at the title of Lady when the litter passed through an elaborately carved archway.
“Dead Ymir’s head,” she swore.
They stopped on a balcony before an enormous cavern. What must have once been stalactites and stalagmites had been expertly carved into angular columns and buttresses supporting the dome of the roof. Enormous stone faces adorned their surfaces or gazed sternly out from the walls. A river of lava flowed slowly in the depths below, twisting amid buildings that rose past the height of where they stood on the balcony. The lava bathed everything in a red glow. Bridges ran between the various structures at multiple points with staircases leading up and down everywhere Thianna looked. She saw dwarves going about their lives throughout.
“This is a whole city! Right here! Under the ground!” The giantess was in awe that such a place existed. Smiling with pride, her escort allowed her to briefly take in the view, then the litter moved forward, bearing her out onto a narrow walkway that wound toward a large stone palace at the far end of the cavern.
Thianna gripped the sides of her chair tightly. The dactyls were showing signs of exhaustion, and she didn’t want to be tipped into the lava flow beneath. She could take heat better than a full frost giant, but she drew the line at magma.
They reached the palace and finally the litter stopped. The dactyls lowered it so that Thianna could step off.
“Jasius,” she asked, “where are we?”
<
br /> The young dwarf puffed up his chest.
“We are in the True City, and this is the realm of King Herakles Hammerfist.”
—
“Shh, stop complaining,” said Desstra sharply. Daphne had been whining about the lack of sunlight for the past five minutes.
“I can’t help it,” said the dryad, stifling a yawn. “My foliage is diurnal.” She patted down her leaves. They seemed to be trying to curl up around her, making it difficult for her to walk. They also gave off a rustling noise, a constant irritation to Desstra’s sensitive ears. “They think it’s nighttime.”
“It is nighttime,” said the dark elf. “Anyway, try to hold on. I see a light up ahead.”
In fact, there was a warm reddish glow coming from farther down the tunnel.
“Lava flow,” said the elf. Then she lifted her long ears. “But I hear voices too. Lots of them. Oh, Thianna, what have you gotten yourself into now?”
“I’m starting to see a little,” said Daphne, letting go of Desstra’s hand. The dark elf shook her fingers to restore blood flow. The panicky dryad had a strong grip.
“Do you think whoever it is will be friendly?” the tree girl asked.
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” replied Desstra. “At least, that hasn’t been my experience with people who live underground.”
“Maybe we should turn back?” said the dryad, looking longingly the way they had come.
“Not without Thianna. Anyway, there’s no way up in that direction.”
“I hate this,” said Daphne. “I’m not brave. Not like you. I’ve been timid and fearful ever since I was a seedling.”
Desstra was surprised to hear the dryad’s praise. She found herself softening to the helpless tree girl.
“Being brave doesn’t mean you’re not afraid,” the elf said. “It just means you don’t let the fear stop you from doing what you have to do.” She took the girl’s hand again. “I’ll get you out of here, I promise. But you have to do what I tell you. And for Malos Underfoot’s sake, try to keep your leaves from rustling.”