by Brian Simons
I looked back at the cave. Timothy was shaking his head. A few of the other children turned to go inside, losing interest in round two of our battle against the airborne monster.
“Now do we flee?” Drew asked. The bird spun in the air and started diving at us again.
I coughed and shook my head. The lite smoke burnt the back of my throat, and was a little disorienting. It was nothing like the high I got from chewing the leaf. I wasn’t hallucinating, just a little dizzy and lightheaded. I wondered how strong the effects would be if we had passed through the thick of it like the garuda did.
Drew seemed exhausted by my refusal to give up, but he knew all he had to do was yell “Flee!” and I would honor my word. We’d hightail it out of there and leave these kids behind. I didn’t think he wanted to be responsible for that decision though.
The bird dove at us through the lite smoke, but missed. It crashed beak-first into the face of the mesa not far from us and the bamboo poles.
It had taken two passes through the burning lite to affect the giant, but the drug had done its job. I just wished the bird landed where we intended. Those bamboo spikes could have done quite a bit of damage.
Instead, Drew and I charged at the fallen bird. It lay on the rock, barely able to lift its head. Drew shot arrows at it while I jabbed my sword into its wing. My first goal was to prevent it from flying away again.
My improved sword took HP off with each hit, a remarkable improvement over its previous performance. My base Power was still only at 3, so the sword brought me up to a respectable 13. I wouldn’t deliver a massive deathblow like a well-trained fighter might, but with enough time we could whittle this monster down.
I climbed on top of its wing, which was now a bloody mess. Feathers drifted away in the wind as I continued to thrust down with my sword. I fell backwards when the bird finally flinched its wing. It was starting to recover from its drug-induced stupor.
I ran up its wing toward its body as the bird flopped like a fish out of water. I easily lost my balance, but picked myself back up and kept charging, until I finally reached its back. I sank my sword into its flesh.
The bird let out a piercing shriek and bucked back, jumping to its feet. The shock of a deep puncture must have brought it back to its senses. I dug my fingers into the bird’s feathers and held on tight, hoping the plumage wouldn’t come loose in my hand. I used my sword like an icepick, sinking it into the bird as I climbed its downy body.
Wings flapped madly to either side. One was a muscled limb that pumped through the air like a well-practiced machine, the other was a limp and blood-soaked mess that flopped against the ground with no order, no rhythm. The bird hopped a few times, but couldn’t take flight.
Feathers were everywhere. I couldn’t see Drew, or the cave entrance, through the flurry of white and red. I continued to climb, shaving HP off the bird’s meter with each jab of my hardened katana. Finally I reached its head.
The bird’s beak was as wide across as my shoulders were broad, and as long as my entire body. It could easily swallow me whole. The feathers here were shorter and more difficult to grasp.
When the garuda opened its beak to squawk again, I made a desperate gambit. I slashed my sword across its gaping mouth.
The bird clamped its beak shut, but didn’t snap through my weapon. I held it there like a bit held in a horse’s mouth, except this bit was a sharp wooden blade. I held it by the handle in one hand, and the back of the blade in the other.
I pulled with all my strength, first to avoid being thrown from twenty feet in the air as the bird thrashed its head from side to side, and second to do whatever damage I could now that I had gotten myself into this position. I worried I didn’t have the strength to hold on anymore.
Then a searing heat whizzed past me. Smoke rose from the ground along with the smell of roasting bird meat. Pellets of ice fell from the heavens and crashed into the bird’s face, and me. The children had come out of the cave and joined the fight.
The bird’s HP was falling. I yanked as hard as I could on my weapon, pressing the thin backside of the blade into my hand. I lost a few HP as the sword forced its way painfully into my fingers, but I finally accomplished something.
I snapped the bird’s jaw off, sending the bottom half of its beak crashing to the ground.
The garuda lashed out, whipping its head side to side in an effort to fling me off of it. My sword had crashed to the ground with the bird’s lower jaw. Holding on for my life was all I could do.
I squinted my eyes hard as I rode that bucking bird. Then I felt myself careening forward, still mounted on the bird’s neck. Its limp form splayed out on the mesa in front of me. Its dense neck and downy feathers had cushioned my fall.
Behind me, with one red boot planted on the bird’s side, stood Timothy. His spear was halfway inside the bird’s back. He had delivered the finishing blow, ending the bird that had tormented his clan for so long.
The children cheered. Drew and I cheered. The bird lay bleeding and lifeless.
Timothy reached out a hand to help me off the bird’s corpse. “I never thought we’d do it,” he said, grinning.
I grinned back. “I never thought you’d help.”
The bird’s body faded away, likely to respawn on a nearby mountaintop nest. It didn’t matter. We had proven that it wasn’t invincible.
“I wouldn’t have done it without this weapon,” I said, lifting my newly-improved katana. “My magic doesn’t cause direct damage as well as yours. Let me Grow something for you.”
I bent down, reaching into the trickle of water that had fed my bamboo shoots. From a crack in the rocks, I sprouted a sapling that soon rose into a mighty tree covered in sticky resin. It took all of my MP, but it was worth it. This tree was magnificent.
I handed Timothy the knife from my inventory bag. “Now you can make your own hardened æmberwood weapons.
“Thank you, Cale,” Timothy said. It was the first time he called me by name. We all headed into the cave to share stories until we fell asleep one by one.
19
When I woke up, Drew and Timothy were outside the cave, talking in the morning light. The bamboo shoots from the night before were charred from the lite fire and sat at awkward angles where the garuda had slammed into them.
“Morning’ boys,” I said.
“Leaving for the rainforest?” Timothy asked.
“That’s the plan,” I said.
“Cale,” Drew said. “I’ve decided to stay here.”
That threw me for a loop. “What about setting sail?” I asked.
“I wanted to set sail with Roger, but he’s dead now.”
I opened my mouth to remind him that the harbingers couldn’t be trusted, but he held a hand to silence me. “I already knew he was dead by time you found me in the desert,” he said. “It was just hearing it from that wicked obelisk that got to me. Whatever dark magic was at work, it tore at my soul.”
I nodded. I knew that feeling too well.
“Sailing the ocean alone is a fool’s errand. Without a crew, or at least a shipmate, there’s no way to make it very far. These kids could use a hand with the garuda, and with sprucing things up a bit. Furniture for one. After spending a lifetime alone buried in a career, I think this is where I belong. Pitching in, part of a community.”
“I think that’s a great plan,” I said. Part of me was jealous. Here was a cave — really, a cave — full of children with no parents in palpable need of a little guidance and support. Drew made a noble choice, and got to play father figure to boot. I’d never have that chance.
I couldn’t give up my quest though. Nadine and I may never be parents, but we could still live out our Ripcord days happily together. I just had to find her first.
“Good luck to you all,” I said. “And Timothy, don’t give up hope. Your mother’s out there somewhere.”
“Thanks, Cale. You too.”
I took one last look back at the cave of lost boys and girls, a
nd headed west to the edge of the mesa. This side had less of a steep face, and I half climbed, half walked until I reached the ground.
The air was balmy here, a stark departure from the desert on the other side of the mountain range. Nonetheless, my face wasn’t sweating from the heat. I had chills. My body was reminding me that I had skipped my morning lite.
I kept one leaf, just in case, but I didn’t want to use it. Ever again. I would find Nadine and see the real her, not a trippy memory of a time long ago. I wanted to look forward, not back. I pressed ahead on shaky legs through the rainforest.
Every plant here was new to me. I grazed my fingers past everything as I went.
Ceiba. Orchid. Banyan. Palm. Heliconia.
I hiked under the canopy of ancient trees, listening to the sounds of monkeys chittering, small birds chirping, and lizards scurrying in the underbrush. So far, these looked like garden variety animals, not overpowered monsters. The scariest thing I had seen was a spider the size of my hand.
The flowers here were something else. Nadine would have loved this place, I thought, but I had to stop myself. Why did I slip into the past tense? She was here somewhere. I’ll bet Nadine loves this place, I thought forcefully inside my own mind.
I wandered the rainforest all morning and into the afternoon. My skin was cold and damp, and I could barely walk from how shaky and weak my legs felt. One little nibble of lite would cure that. I could even Grow a fresh crop of lite plants here, harvest them, and restart my medicinal supply. I flashed back to my days on Alonso’s drug farm and quickly kiboshed that idea.
The trees cast an early shadow over the rainforest as afternoon turned to evening. I kept pushing through short palms and leafy ferns in search of some clue about where Nadine was.
The sound of rushing water drew me toward a river in the waning light. There were other plants along the riverbank.
Lily pad. Valerian. Elderberry.
Valerian might come in handy. Sleeping during withdrawal was next to impossible, but valerian root was an old folk remedy for sleep problems. If that property made its way into the game, it might help me kick my lite habit for good. I bent down to pull a few plants from the mud and stow them in my bag.
Something whacked me in the seat of my pants and sent me face first into the river. I pushed myself up, my hands sinking into the mud at the river’s edge. When I looked up, I saw two things seven feet tall and covered with cracked brown skin like tree bark. Two massive arms branched out from each side, ending in short dense twigs where fingers would be. It was like the rainforest had come to life and kicked me in the ass.
One of the creatures thrashed an arm at me and I ran, my green boots clomping in the mud with each step. The tree monsters followed me, creaking as their bark-covered bodies pushed past the branches of inanimate trees and plants. What I wouldn’t give to be a fire mage right about now.
I turned and cast Pollen for a few seconds, but of course these plant fiends were impervious to it. I sprinted again and turned, holding my wooden sword forward with both hands. Would a wooden sword do any damage to a wooden beast? I really didn’t want to find out. The withdrawal had turned my insides to mush and I could barely hold my hands still.
The monsters approached and I turned again to keep running. The one place they didn’t seem to tread was into the water. I decided to make a swim for it. I ran into the river and kicked up my feet where it got deep.
I had used up some stamina running, and watched the gage diminish again now that I was swimming. I looked forward to catching my breath on the river’s opposite edge.
Something clamped onto my ankle and pulled me under. I opened my eyes and saw a tangle of long gray hair floating in the water, connected to a head below, and a body almost invisible against the river’s blueness. A woman was dragging me toward the bottom of the river. I tried to kick and swim back toward the top, but it was no use. I was sinking.
I slashed toward her arm with my katana and watched her wince in pain, but her grip only tightened. She was going to drown me unless I did something.
I didn’t need dirt to Grow plants anymore. I didn’t even need to have my hands on them. All I needed was water, and I was surrounded by it. I conjured a silverthorn sprig in each hand, the long sturdy stems covered in sharp thorns.
After spinning my body toward hers underwater, I thrashed the plants toward her hoping to slice into her skin and force her grip to loosen. To my surprise, the thorns ejected from the plant when I bent my wrist, sending sharp projectiles through the water and into her arm and torso. A large water bubble escaped her mouth along with a muffled yell as she let go of my leg.
I got to the surface before I ran out of air and swam toward the embankment. I didn’t get far before a jet of water shot out of the river and carried the woman upward. She sat on that water like a queen on her throne.
“What are you doing in my rainforest?” she asked.
“Looking for—” something whacked me in the head. It was one of those tree monsters. I had gotten turned around underwater and swam right back into their clutches. I fell to the ground and the monster pounced on top of me.
I pushed it off of me, Osmosing a bit to see what the hell this thing was.
Treant.
I rolled to the side to avoid being body slammed by the treant and got to my feet. I was sopping wet, so I sprang another set of silverthorns in my hands and shot needles into the treants’ torsos, but to no effect. I started to sink into the ground underfoot when I noticed that the blue mage from the river was opening a tidal pool beneath my feet.
The treants were having a hard time doing anything other than sinking. I reached down and Grew a long coil of spring ivy, guiding its growth with my mind so that its tip aimed for a nearby tree branch and coiled around it. I grabbed hold and chopped at its base with my katana, sending me flying toward the tree branch as the ivy sprang shut. I slammed into the tree and hit my head, but at least I landed on dry ground.
The treants had stopped moving. The mage had succeeded in drowning something today, just not me.
“Leave!” she yelled.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” I said.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said.
“I’m only here—” I dove to the side to avoid an ice javelin. The woman was walking on the river now, conjuring up icy weapons to hurl at me. She threw another one but I raised my sword and blocked it.
I held my hand out and a yellow cloud condensed where she stood on the muddy riverbank. Pollen had a lousy track record lately, but this time it worked. The woman was blinded. She sprayed herself with water but the debuff didn’t vanish.
“When I find you,” she yelled. She stopped and cocked her head to the side. I did the same. There was a rumbling sound coming from the east. The mountain was that way. I had a sudden pang of guilt for leaving Drew and the kids up there.
The sound didn’t come from above though. It came from upriver. Along the river bank came a swirling cloud of evil blackness. A cacophony of high and low voices tumbled toward us, shrill sobs competing against low moans for lead singer in a choir of the damned.
If I left the blue mage behind, the Stricken would sweep her up and either kill her or get stronger by conscripting her into its lachrymal brigade. I grabbed her by the arm and ran, pulling her behind me through the trees. I found a large banyan tree, a system of branches and vines with a hollow shell in the center. We squeezed inside the tree and I used my remaining MP to add to it until we were concealed almost entirely.
It was the best camouflage I could muster.
The Stricken rushed through the rainforest, trampling plants in its wake. The sound of desperate cries got louder as the dark retinue surrounded our tree. I peered out between a small gap in the banyan’s woody tendrils.
My heart broke for the faces that rushed past. The Stricken seemed to circle our hiding spot, gray lifeless faces pressing up against the tree to stare at us momentarily before they sped by. Their faces were
wet with tears, their mouths half open in perpetual lamentation.
One face breezing past stood out from the rest. It was a man, whose eyes were like two polished pieces of jet set into human eye sockets. His mouth was closed tight. His face was gaunt and alabaster white. He was a ghost of a man, and he was at the center of the Stricken, controlling the other aggrieved players that he had mesmerized with his mournful magic.
The blue mage couldn’t see it, but she trembled with fear. Neither of us spoke, nor did the Stricken as it swirled around our tree. The players whacked at the banyan trying to demolish our hiding spot, but I kept my hand on the tree from the inside, pumping restorative magic into it and Growing back the pieces the Stricken stripped away.