Aeryn took a few steps. The floating trees moved with her. No matter how many steps she took, or which direction, her view never changed. “So, Ryder, this is what you meant. I’ll always be protected.”
The breeze rustled the trees ever so slightly and whistled through the underbrush. “Yeeeeessssssssssssssss,” it sounded. She smiled. For the first time in her life Aeryn realized that she was not alone, and it felt good. She would never be alone again.
“Ryder, is that you?” Life around her was calm and peaceful. “Is this—my new friend?”
“Yeeeeessssssssssssssss,” the wind answered.
“Which way should we go?” Aeryn looked left. She saw nothing, and felt nothing. To her right, through a dark valley, sat the volcano, and beyond that, glistening clear water and open sky. She took one step to get a better look at some odd movement that direction. “Is this—?”
“Yeeeeessssssssssssssss.”
A dark feeling of foreboding came over her. When she looked at the valley before her, she felt death. The shadows moved by themselves, and the trees were all dead. There was no foliage and no covering. It was a valley of pure darkness. A shadow of death. “Are you sure?”
“Yeeeeessssssssssssssss.”
The trees turned with her. The wind rustled her long brown hair. She took a step. The trees fluttered and floated forward. “So I guess this is the way. Let’s go then.” Aeryn squared her shoulders and marched on, floating trees and slight breeze surrounding her every move.
Chapter 38: Reunite
re·u·nite [ree-yoo-nahyt] verb (used with object), verb (used without object), re·u·nit·ed, re·u·nit·ing; to unite again, as after separation
The forest refused to move any more. Aeryn stood on the precipice, looking down at the dark valley below. Black rocks skittered across the valley floor by themselves.
Spatz. She shook her head. Not again.
Further beyond the rocks, leafless dead trees uprooted and walked. As if they could see her, a number of them turned toward her and replanted their roots. They were glaring at her. Menacing knot holes in the dead wood glowed red, daring her to set foot into their forbidden realm. The creek at their base flowed thick black sludge.
Aeryn shuddered. The wind gently rustled the trees behind her. She knew her friend was there. She still trusted that she would never be alone, but it did not mean that her senses weren’t sharp, her nerves raw, and her mind alert. Still, her feet refused to move. As if they had a mind of her own, Aeryn willed them to take the first step, but they did not, choosing instead to remain fully planted at the top of the cliff overlooking the living death below her.
Behind her, a piercing shriek cut through the air. Black vultures, giants for their kind, launched from the deadened tree limbs and dove toward her. She dove for cover.
“Aaaaawwwwwww!!!!!”
The scream wasn’t hers. Aeryn hit the ground, hiding beneath the branches of her guardian tree friends behind her. Her eyes darted for the source of the scream.
“Stop, ya mangy creature! STOPPPP!”
Scanning the forests, both living and dead, Aeryn’s eyes settled on a wave of water rushing toward her. Hoof beats shook the ground, as if a herd of wild horses were upon her. Aeryn hung low, watching the waves, and a red-headed young man riding them.
“Ian!”
“Aeryn! Stay back! It’s not safe.”
The waves rushed forward, sloshing to a stop at the edge of a cliff. Aeryn watched as the water churned inside the crystal clear shape of a horse.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s a water horse. Stay back! It’s dangerous.”
“Get off then!” The answer seemed so simple to her. The giant head turned toward her, waves raging inside its skull, menacing red glowing eyes staring her down. Nostrils flaring, the thing huffed, spewing heated breath, fighting for air against the darkening skyline.
“I can’t. I had to dive off before the thing smelled any water. Now it’s too late. I’m its prisoner forever.” The horse turned back toward the dark valley ahead, reared up, neighing into the darkness, and landed back on all fours. Furious waves crashed against its insides.
“Run, Aeryn! Run for your life!” Ian fought against the raging tide holding him captive on the water horse. Unable to move his legs, hands glued to the thing’s wet mane, he pulled and fought against the rising tide of panic.
“Ian,” she called, “maybe I can —”
“No, Aeryn! Run!” Sheer panic erupted in his voice. “You can’t touch it, or you’ll be its prisoner, too. Save yourself! Get to your dad before it’s too late.”
The horse turned toward the valley below. Rearing up one final time, it neighed at the darkness. The giant vultures answered back, welcoming them to the darkness. The horse came down, stomped its front feet, testing the cliff side, and took its first step down.
A loud whistle shook the floating leaves from behind. The rock shot from the tree cover like a bullet, striking the horse on the butt. The horse’s crystal casing cracked, circling like a spider’s web from the point of impact, but did not release its fluid insides. It backed up from the cliff side, turned to face the attack head on, snorting and neighing again. This time, it was not a typical horse sound. This was a battle cry. The eyes raged red with hatred. Nostrils flaring, the war horse stomped and prepared itself for battle. Facing the trees head-on, the horse lowered, Ian still holding on for dear life, and charged the forest.
One single rock struck squarely between the eyes, and the creature fell. Its crystal exterior exploded releasing his rider in a rushing wave of seawater. Ian flopped around like a stranded fish. Finding his hands and feet, he scampered toward Aeryn, covering her, protecting her as best he could.
“Relax guys. It’s just me.” Hunter stepped into the open, and smiled at his sister and friend.
Each step was chosen with precision and strategy. There was nothing random about the placement of their feet.
“Why are the rocks moving?”
“They’re not rocks,” Aeryn said.
“What are they?” Ian asked, “and why can’t we touch them?”
“Long story,” she whispered. “Just keep putting your feet exactly where mine are so we can get through this. Touch ONLY the real rocks, nothing else, or we all die.”
Ian followed her, eyes darting ahead at the moving shadows. He turned back to Hunter, bringing up the rear of the group. “Why are the trees moving?”
“They’re not trees.” His hand balled in a fist, he clenched a rock. Eyes following the movement of the shadows, he carefully trailed his sister and friend, stone doubling as a weapon at the ready. His strike would be instant and deadly. “Hey,” he looked at Ian, “what was that thing you were riding anyway.”
“A water horse.”
“Where’d you find it?”
“Long story. Where’d you learn to hunt like that, man? That was awesome.”
“Long story,” Hunter whispered back, eyes still darting every direction. “Very long story.”
“So,” Ian’s flat, dry voice asked, “What now?”
The three stood on the outer edge of the dead forest. They had descended the cliff, and crossed the blackened creek. Now, all that awaited them was the black forest. Hunter’s eyes never stopped moving.
Aeryn scanned the blackened forest. “One wrong move and we’re toast, just like those trees,” she whispered.
“Too late.” The first rock struck with deadly accuracy, taking down the enemy. Hunter’s hand found another, and another, lobbing them toward the towering trees.
“Those aren’t branches,” Ian said, voice trembling slightly. “They look like - - “
“Antlers,” Hunter said, eyeing his next target. “The one thing I used to fear most.”
“Used to?” Ian swallowed hard. “That’s good. I guess.”
Deep, glowing red eyes blinked through the darkness. “What now?”
“Strike the leader and the rest will scatter.”
“Okay,
so which one is the leader?”
“He’ll be a giant,”
Ian’s voice quaked again. “B-b-b-big-g-g-ger than them?” A single trembling finger reached forward.
“This feels like death.” Aeryn’s gaze never moved. Her eyes remained locked on the black mountain in the background, until it, too, started to move. “Hunter.”
“I see it.”
The ground shook as the mountain took its first step.
“Hunter.”
Rising to full height, eyes glistening red, fangs bared and dripping, enormous antlers scratched the sky as the mammoth head swung back and forth against the dark horizon. The tips of the antlers crackled and buzzed, a blue arc of electricity shooting back and forth between them.
“Don’t panic.” Hunter’s hand was steady and his gaze locked.
Saliva dripped from its mouth as giant silver fangs emerged.
“Hunter!”
“Trust me, Aeryn.”
She froze. Ian took her hand gently, pulling her back out of firing range.
“When I say ‘run’, head straight through the middle of those trees.”
“The trees that aren’t trees? Is that what you mean? The tree-monsters?”
“Yes. If we get separated, meet me at the mouth of the volcano.”
“You want us to run there?” Again, Ian squeaked a little.
“Yes. Right through the middle.”
“What are they, Hunter?” Aeryn whispered.
“My worst nightmare, Aeryn. That’s the monster my fear has created, and now I must defeat it.” Hunter clenched the rock harder. “If I can do this, I can do anything.”
Ian squeezed Aeryn’s hand harder. Her feathers ruffled, fear creeping over them.
“Don’t be afraid,” Hunter warned. “Keep your wits about you. Be ready.”
The earth shook in waves with each step. Hunter could feel the snorting breath now, rancid stench, warm and revolting. He wanted to wretch, but dared not take his eyes from his prey. Closer and closer the fear monger came, growing in size with each thundering step.
“Hunter.”
“Wait.”
“Hunter.”
“Wait.”
“Hunter!”
The rock shot like a bullet from his hand. “Now!” he screamed.
All three took off like a shot, never looking back.
The tree line tore open, each manifestation of evil turning toward their fallen leader, clearing a narrow path for escape. The ground rumbled beneath them. No longer watching their steps, they ran over Spatz after Spatz, causing a black cloud of frenzied flight over their heads.
Aeryn ran in the lead, Ian following, with Hunter bringing up the rear. Single file, they darted through the trees, antlers, or whatever these things were. Something very similar to branches slapped and grabbed at them, but the split second lead they had was enough to escape the enemy’s grasp. Bursting through the other side, all three slammed face-first into the base of the volcano.
Aeryn was the first back up on her feet. Getting her bearings again, she scanned the volcano for danger, and froze. Shock set in. Tears filled her eyes as her legs gave way beneath her. Hunter and Ian kept her from collapsing.
“What’s wrong?” Hunter tried to sit her up again. “What is it, Aeryn?”
A small shaking finger pointed. “Dad.”
Puppet pup·pet: Spelled [puhp-it] noun
an artificial figure representing a human being or an animal, manipulated by the hand,
rods, wires, etc., as on a miniature stage
Chapter 39: Castle
cas·tle [kas-uhl, kah-suhl] noun, verb, cas·tled,
a strongly fortified, permanently garrisoned stronghold
The crack of a whip sliced through the air like a knife. The snap so jarring, all three flinched.
“Shhhh.” Ian stepped forward, in between Aeryn and the scene unfolding in front of them.
“Dad,” she called again. “Is that you?”
Ian’s hand clamped down over her mouth. “Shhh. Not now.”
The whip cracked again, followed by an eerie laugh. At the rear of the crowd loomed a serpent. Not just any serpent. It was the razor-toothed monster that had taken their father what seemed so long ago. It hovered over the crowd below, dripping saliva from its enormous jaws, tongue whipping out and snapping at the prisoners below.
Chained beneath were rows of sheep. Not ordinary sheep, though. Each had a human head. Sheeple. They blindly followed, one after the other, wherever the smaller serpents at the front of the line led them. One of the smaller serpents seemed to take extra pleasure leading the group astray. It zig-zagged this way and that, as the sheeple blindly followed its lead. When the followers ran into one dead end after another, a tree or a cliff, the monster would exude a deep belly laugh, then turn the group another useless direction. All the while, the other serpent guards applauded and watched, snickers plastered across their hideous faces.
When the group turned toward the children, the sheep with Morgan’s head swung their direction and saw them. “Ruu-uu-uu-uun,” he managed to bleat out.
“Daddy!” Aeryn screamed out, but little sound barely cut through Ian’s tightly clamped hand.
“Get baa-aa-aa-ck. It’s daa-aa-aan-gerous.”
“Pleaa-aa-aa-aase,” one of the other sheeple begged a guard. “It’s ho-o-o-ot. Can we haa-aa-aa-ve some waa-aa-aa-aa-ter?”
“You want water?” The whip cracked again from the giant serpent’s tongue. Here’s your water.” Gills on the side of its head flared out, making the thing look like a giant cobra. Small appendages raised outward and the thing howled, head thrown back toward the darkened sky, flames bursting out of its snout. The darkness tore open with red jagged lightning and the rain poured down, soaking the sheeples’ thick woolen coats. They trudged on aimlessly, bumping into one obstacle after another, now weighed down heavily. Again, the giant serpent laughed. A winter chill swept over the group, and the sheeple began to shiver, frost from their breath filling the air. “Noo-oo-oo-oo,” they all begged.
Aeryn started to cry.
“So what— Now you want the rain to stop?” The serpent shook his giant head in disbelief.
“Plee-ee-ee-ee-ase,” they begged again.
“I gave you what you asked for, you lousy ungrateful, stupid creatures. Fine!” it growled. “You want heat, here it comes!”
Again howling at the sky, gills spread, the creature snarled, and set fire to the rain. “Careful what you ask for. Now move!” Every ounce of moisture burst into flame.
Aeryn’s tears stung her eyes and burned her face.
Hunter reached out and extinguished the flames from his sister’s cheeks. He clenched a rock. “I can take the big one,” he told Ian. “Move so I can get a clean shot.”
“No,” Ian blocked the way. “Not now.”
“I can take him,” Hunter ground out between clenched teeth.
“And then what?” Ian fought to keep his voice a whisper. “What about the others? You can’t take them all.” Ian refused to move. “Wait till the time is right. Then we strike.”
“I need to get my dad. I can save him.”
“No. You can’t. Not like this. You can’t save them all now. Wait,” he cautioned Hunter again, “till the time is right. Don’t let your anger drive you.”
“Welcome to your new home,” the smaller serpent at the front snarled.
“Moat!” he snapped toward the sky.
The earth shook and the sky flashed. Again, the fiery rain poured down, spewing flames from the top of the volcano, heavier this time. It rumbled and roared, glowing brightly in the sky. The mountain groaned and split the earth in front of them, tearing a ring around itself. The ground beneath them gave way. All three slid down the side of the crater circling the spewing mountain. The thick black liquid that had run through the black valley behind them, now flaming, diverted its path and turned to fill the moat. All three were trapped in the trench.
“We gotta
get out.” Ian’s panic was evident. “Now!” He scrambled up the side ahead of the other two. Bracing himself against the top, he grabbed a branch from the ground and extended it back down to the other two. Aeryn grabbed it, and pulled herself up alongside Ian. The branch went back down. The thick black sludge continued to fill the ditch, black mounds and rocks spilling over the edge with the flaming rain. Hunter scrambled to keep his feet from becoming submerged.
“Don’t let it touch you!” Ian called.
“Drawbridge,” they heard the serpents command. Obeying the order, three dead trees fell from one side of the moat, laying perfectly in line with one another over the expanse of the flaming moat, forming a footbridge for the sheeple to cross.
“Hunter!” Ian’s voice was near frantic. “Grab it!”
Hunter turned back from the bridge to the extended tree limb. He took hold and pulled himself up, just as the jaws of a giant croc pierced the flaming black sludge and snapped down where his ankle had been.
Ian hoisted him to safety and the three sat, backs to the volcano, watching the lost, helpless souls cross over the bridge.
“Castle!” Earth moved and sky flared. The volcano transformed before their eyes into a beautifully lit palace. The entrance was wide and accommodating. “See,” the serpent leader smiled, fangs glistening in the radiating glow. “I promised you a large home, filled with many others just like yourself. I am the prince of this dark world, and all princes live in castles. You will live here forever now, too. All you had to do was follow me.” When he laughed, the world shook.
Hunter, Aeryn, and Ian all watched as Morgan was led, chained to the others, into the castle. The snarling giant was the last to cross the bridge. Reaching the other side, he turned to the three children, huddled on the side of the moat and winked. A cruel smile spread across his horrid jowls, sliding across jagged glistening fangs.
“Close” he commanded, disappearing into the castle.
The dead trees rose back up again, re-rooting themselves on the other side of the moat. The entrance to the castle dimmed and closed. Again the earth shook, the sky rained fire, and the castle disappeared in a flash. The three were huddled against the side of the cold, dark volcano.
The PriZin of Zin Page 20