Alexa Drey- the Gates of Striker Bay

by Ember Lane

  I reached in, grabbing Charlotte’s feet and pulling her. Her cursing lifted a level or two. Mezzerain shoved me out of the way and yanked her the rest of the way out. Charlotte immediately began attacking Billy.

  Pog’s head poked out of one of the wormholes. “Psst! Alexa! Over here!”

  He had that look in his eye.

  I ambled over to him, aware of Billy’s suspicious eyes piercing my back. Pog was half in and half out of it. He had mischief written all over him.

  “Follow me.” He scrambled back around.

  It was the last thing I wanted to do. I followed anyway. The hole was around three feet in diameter and angled into the valley’s side gently. It soon began curling down in a spiral reminiscent of the gilden lode, but much tighter, a little like a pig’s tail or corkscrew. We scrambled on all fours, making good time.

  “Where does it go?” I hissed.

  “To the worm’s lair. Trust me it’s safe, just as long as another one doesn’t come along, I suppose.”

  “You suppose?”

  He grinned.

  Down and down we went, the tube so uniform it looked like dwarves had formed it and centuries of use had worn it down. The air became dank and still, stifling, and my head swooned, like my blood wasn’t getting its fill of oxygen. Then Pog vanished around a final twist and following, I found him sitting on a pile of stones. I finally conjured a glowsphere to inspect his trove properly and gasped in amazement as a million colors all competed to form a kaleidoscope of rich beauty that swirled around the nest.

  “Seems the worms did all our work for us. A little bit for Billy, the rest pays for our army.”

  My heart leaped, and not because of the gems. “Our army?”

  “I’ve decided you’re right. Our army. We’ve just got to persuade Mezzerain now.”

  “And Lincoln,” I pointed out.

  Pog shook his head at first then smiled at me like our roles were reversed and I was the child. His head tilted slightly, like he was trying to phrase his next words correctly. It was the kind of expression that told me he was much, much wiser than I gave him credit for. “Oh, Alexa, have you still got no clue? Lincoln would do anything for you.”

  “Lincoln would do anything Joan told him to do, you mean.”

  Pog scoffed as he began to collect all the jewels. “And who do you think chose you?”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The Maroo Margins

  We elected to stay in the gully to rest and recuperate. While it wasn’t ideal, at least we knew the dangers the worms posed. Faulk carved meaty steaks from their peristaltic muscles, adding the last of the passion mushroom and a sprinkling of spider meat, and it turned out to be a welcome, hearty meal. I definitely preferred worm to scorpion. Who knew? Unfortunately, it ended our fungi supplies, but the riverbank below promised to refill them soon.

  Pog told Billy that he’d amassed all the gems that we’d owe him, and while that instantly pleased the pirate, Billy slipped into brooding soon after. He knew Pog had gotten one over on him, just not how.

  The wormhole was at its shallowest nearest the exit. Billy and Charlotte took guard duty, as they were the only ones who really didn’t need sleep. Even so, Billy only agreed reluctantly and on Charlotte’s insistence. She wanted some time together. I didn’t think he was quite as keen. The end result, however, was that the rest of us got to sleep, and for once, I woke reasonably refreshed.

  Whether I was ready to seize the day and wring it by its neck was another matter.

  We broke camp soon after, choosing to climb out of the gully and traverse the last two steppes. The worm carcasses were already turning rancid, and we had attracted a good presence of Pog’s ecosystem in the valley: flies, ants, some form of grub, and other unmentionables that had burrowed into the carcasses. It was a good enough reason to leave them to it.

  It took us around three hours to arrive at the edge of the final steppe. The Marroo Margin flowed thirty feet below us. Its multicolored border stretched like a dabbed and blotted water color, spreading on both sides to the hemming steppes.

  Where I’d thought there would be mushrooms similar to those we’d encountered in the Nexus Fault, they were, in fact, more like trees. A fungal forest awaited us, and all that it concealed. I looked around the bleak steppes, letting the wind tear through me, and I decided I’d take the uncertainty below over the barrenness above.

  Before I stepped over its edge, I noticed the rider again. This time he wasn’t alone. There were two of them, both mounted, both sitting proud. One wolf banner flapped in the wind. Once more as if my attention was enough, they wheeled away and vanished.

  Pog grabbed my hand, squeezing it to reassure. “Don’t worry, what is, is. You can’t do anything about it.”

  My gaze lingered on the vacated steppe. “Maybe, but I like to think I can.”

  Billy threaded his way down a narrow path. Pog lingered then set off after him. As usual, our way was no more than a rain spill, but it was better than getting the ropes and spikes out. We descended for twenty minutes until we came to the tree line, though these were like no trees I’d ever encountered before.

  In many ways they resembled large mushrooms, except each trunk branched out like a tree, its dozen or so twisting branches each holding a cap aloft. Under them, again like a normal mushroom, gills radiated from its central point. Yet I could see no evidence of spores and the like, and was a little relieved at that. At least we weren’t about to be poisoned with one stray fungus puff.

  Pog has guessed that the function of these mutated fungi was to collect the energy from the shadowmana itself and begin the fragile ecology of this place. My guess was that he was partially right. As soon as we entered the forest, Ruse’s glassy, gray air cleared, and I mean crystal clear, like the strange flora had sucked up every single particle of the surrounding mana. Then I worked out the arrangement of the caps. They were all on split levels rather than hogging a sole light source as a normal forest would. They’d evolved to allow the mana-laden air to pass over them, the aerofoil shape of caps designed to draw it under and through the gills where it clearly absorbed the mana.

  By a simple process of deduction, if I suddenly needed a refill, a bite on a fungal tree should do it. I called Sutech to hold the party a second. He looked back questioningly but held them without asking. I grabbed a nearby branch, swung onto it and then walked along its length. It was sturdy, holding my weight with ease.

  “What is it, Alexa?” Sutech finally asked.

  “Simple,” I replied. “These trees are safe. If we get stuck down there, we could climb up here and hide.”

  He nodded but said nothing, turning and following the others down. He had a habit of taking a while to process stuff. I remembered I hadn’t told him about Pog’s choice and skipped off the branch, scrambling to catch up with him.

  We made the forest floor without incident. Though rocky underfoot, it was coated with a lime-green moss or fungus—it was hard to tell which—but its color settled us with its familiarity. The way it folded into the clear water of the Marroo Margin also lent it the beauty we were accustomed to. It was almost peaceful. Almost. Something about Ruse sat on your shoulders and pressed them down, laden with impending doom.

  It had taken us a good number of hours to make it down those final two steppes and into the forest. Sutech called a halt, and no one argued, not even Billy. We found a small meander in the river, a little head we could defend if needed, and we set up camp. Faulk spied some black fish in the river and broke out his rods. I took first guard duty, letting the others rest, though in truth, the sum of my task was merely facing away from everyone and staring at a still, fungal forest. I took the opportunity to cycle my manas and charge my Nexus Rod.

  Nexus Rod

  Charging in progress

  Shadowmana 31.2% charged

  Light mana 14.4% charged

  Rod Harmony – Level 4

  Magnification equates to 4 times current charge.

 
With a beginning point, I just had to work out a way to time my charge, like Pog had instructed. Sutech shouted that he’d relieve me in an hour. It would be rough as neither of us had a watch or timepiece or even the sun to go by. I shrugged. It would be measured by one-hour-Sutech’s-guestimate time. Or as they say, as good as it gets.

  That hour gave me a charge of just under 5 percent. It was a measure. I had another thirteen hours to go to get full charge and see what this baby could really do. I doubted I would be afforded the luxury of that time.

  While I’d been on lookout, Faulk and Pog had caught some of the black fish, gutted them, and were busy cooking them up. They’d harvested some of the lower growing mushrooms and had our usual stew bubbling away. Ruse had almost taken a turn for the pleasant, if a little strange in design. I told Sutech that Pog had chosen, though we both agreed it meant little unless we accomplished our mission here and then escaped this place. Slaughtower loomed, and we had no idea what to expect.

  Pog served up the stew while Mezzerain took watch. He sat with us.

  “Can you sense the stone?” I asked him, attempting to focus on why we were here in the first place.

  “Compassion? I purposely haven’t released Stalker. He tends to attract attention, and Ruse isn’t agreeing with him.”

  I thought back to all the river monsters, the mantis, scorpions, spiders, worms, and the ever-watching horsemen. “I’ve got news for you. We’ve woken quite a bit on our travels here. We might not have announced ourselves at that port Billy talked about, but we’re hardly traveling through anonymously. What’s wrong with it?”

  “It’s just not itself, like it hasn’t got any energy. I worry what would happen if I expose it to more. What do you think?”

  It was rare to see Pog so indecisive.

  Sutech delivered his pronouncement. “Release your stone; let’s see what ails it. I’d hate to find out the next stone wasn’t in Slaughtower. Whatever we have to battle, I have the feeling that the ultimate encounter has to happen, that Ruse’s destiny will demand it, and we need the stone fit and healthy for that encounter.”

  Sutech trailed off, like he couldn’t quite understand what he’d just said.

  “It hasn’t been its usual self,” Pog admitted and held for a moment almost like he couldn’t place his stone in any danger. Whatever force prevented him relented, and he fished in his cloak and brought it out. The stone hovered above his palm, its usual bluster nowhere to be seen. It was hiding close to Pog’s shadow, acting like it was sniffing the air, seeing what it could and couldn’t trust. Then it flew over to me, circling around my head, and I felt its draw as it leached a portion of light mana from me.

  It grew brighter, immediately returning to its usual self. It darted around but never straying too far from Pog. It appeared to have its energy back but not its cocky confidence. I had to use one of my last small mana vials to balance out its thirst so as not to interfere with my charging of the Nexus Rod.

  “It needed mana,” I said. “This place must have leached it of some.” I took a final sip to return my light mana level to exactly 50 percent. I only had two thirds of a ninety-five thousand vial and some dregs left, but heck, that was better than nothing.

  Stalker was back, though, now buzzing around inquisitively.

  “Compassion is getting close. Compassion is weak! We must get there!” It darted along the Marroo Margin before darting back, settling on orbiting Pog, who beamed at his stone. His happiness was easy to read. He made to grab it, but Stalker shied away. “Compassion will have to be housed right away, else it won’t survive! This place is evil.” It settled on Pog’s outstretched palm, and he snatched it away.

  “So we can assume the stones survive on light mana,” I surmised. “But how are we going to house it right away? Everyone’s in Mandrake or Valkyrie.”

  Billy coughed.

  “Everyone alive,” I qualified.

  Pog nodded in Faulk’s direction. “Not everyone.”

  “He’s not let us down,” Sutech added.

  It was true, but the trapmaster wasn’t quite what I had in mind when I thought of a hero, and for some reason when I thought of housing the stones, I thought of heroes. Maybe Faulk was one, like Glenwyth. Maybe I was being unfair. Were understated heroes braver than claymore-wielding giants? Did they have the subtle mettle to see it through to the end?

  Maybe I didn’t have a choice…

  We milled around for a while. It was hard to tell whether we should make camp so we could all sleep or press on. I doubted I’d ever take the sun for granted again. I yearned for its constancy, for its unerring ability to let me know exactly where I was. Strip it away and confusion reigns. It was easy to see why light was always regarded as order, and its absence was chaos.

  In the end, it was Sutech’s choice. “We press on. We can’t afford to bleed mana into the stone for much longer. We must get this done and get out of this land.”

  Setting out, we formed up. I sent my awareness forward. Charlotte stayed with us. She held my fiberstone staff primed across her chest, ready to start whacking. There was little point in her ranging ahead. She was fairly useless at it, and more than liable to get lost in the fungal forest.

  We traipsed through, all glad of the accompanying multicolored, iridescent light. It took the edge off Ruse and its barren night. Hugging the river, its merry chatter nulled the howl of the overhead wind. We had to fight to remain aware of the danger we were in. Perhaps that was the forest’s goal—to relax us, to set us up for a fall. We made good time, but after a couple of hours, it became clear we were being watched.

  Pog held back. “Both of us go look?” he asked.

  Sutech immediately butted in. “If Alexa uses her magic to go invisible, does it cost mana?”

  I admitted it did.

  “Then just you, Pog.”

  Pog vanished, unfazed by being on his own. He reappeared ten minutes later.

  “It’s quite complicated,” he told us.

  “How complicated?” Sutech asked.

  Pog’s lofted eyebrow told him. “We’re being tracked by a number of large lizards. You can hardly see them because they change color as they pass through the forest, so numbers? Ten, possibly more.”

  “How’s that complicated?” I asked.

  “Ah, well, it’s like this. The lizards are being hunted by a pack of tigerlike cats.”

  Sutech thought about it. “So we kill the lizards and get attacked by the cats…”

  “Except that’s not the end of it. There’s a large bird that looks like a flying skeleton, and it appears to be hunting the cats.”

  “Welcome to the bottom of the food chain,” I muttered. “So what are they waiting for?”

  Pog shrugged. “I guess they know we’ll have to stop soon. Much easier to hunt a stationary target.”

  “Then let’s give them what they want. We’ll stop as soon as we can and get organized,” Sutech decided.

  He chose another meander. This one sank back into the steppe across the river some thirty feet, but its edge was nearly pinched together and formed a small path onto it around ten feet in width. Sutech sent Pog out, who soon came back and told us that the lizards were perched up in the trees, a little way out and appeared to be waiting. The cats were doing the same, and the bony bird was just circling overhead.

  So much for my idea of climbing to safety.

  Sutech pointed to the dozen or so trees on our meander. “Alexa, can you strip all them of their lower branches, just drop them to the ground. Make sure you keep the canopy in place, so the bird can’t get to us.”

  He didn’t explain further, so I stashed my Nexus Rod, equipped my scarletite axes, and shimmied up the first tree. Each had around four or five lower branches, but they were fairly soft, not like wood but exactly like you’d expect a fungal trunk to be. Chopping them and letting them fall, Pog stripped them of their crowns, and then Mezzerain dragged the branches away. Sutech helped him thread them through a couple of trunks that l
ined the edge of the meander, and slowly, they formed a simple defensive wall.

  I redoubled my efforts, now understanding what they were up to. By the fourth tree, the wall was around six feet tall. I highly doubted it would keep any lizards out, but at least it would give us a line to defend. Faulk began stacking the tops along the shoreline, shifting rocks and boulders to give them the look of a line of shields. By the time I’d cut all the branches I could, we had a fairly substantial fortlike base.

  Faulk set up the stove. I conjured a glowsphere for him, but he immediately handed me the job of cooking, asked Pog for his tool bag. He started setting some traps up.

  First, he set a load of trip wires with bells attached to alert us of their coming, just in case we couldn’t see the lizards. Next, he rigged up the more fun ones—a bank of darts, angled spears that popped up, and garrotes that caught the ankles. Whatever he had on hand, he used. Both Pog and I emptied our inventories of shields and spears and swords. Sutech scattered them around against all the walls ready to be grabbed and used. It was like we were preparing for war, and maybe we were.

  “That’s about it,” Faulk told us. “Best I can do. We’ll see how sneaky they are.”

  I served up my slop. It wasn’t as good as his. Sutech told Billy and Charlotte they were on sentry duty, and the rest of us settled down around the fire. Though I was exhausted, I found sleep evaded me. The knowledge that danger was lurking stripped me of the ability to rest. I chose my meditations instead. Though it wasn’t sleep, it refreshed me anyway. My light mana was slow, sluggish to start and then cycling with reluctance. It was a theme that was gathering pace the closer we came to Slaughtower.