by Demi Harper
I was struck by a sudden image of the two creatures as a god-born hybrid. A tarantula with the head of an owl… Even I shuddered in horror at the thought. It would be unnatural. Maybe if I put eight eyes on the owl part instead of just two…
I shook off the fantasy. I could spiderize as many animals as I wanted just as soon as I had my mana back. Enough daydreaming. We’ve got work to do.
Forty-Nine
Bear Necessities
Corey
After three days of searching, I was starting to feel overwhelmed by a sort of manic urgency.
My instructions had been simple: look for cave entrances, sinkholes, animal burrows—anything that might indicate a likely cave system.
Less than two days remained on the Exodus timer, and I was forced to seriously consider the possibility we’d have to establish our new base right here by the river. To be fair, it wasn’t a terrible location; we had a plentiful supply of fresh water and fish, and the gnomes’ advanced huts kept them sheltered from the nippy autumn nights. But it was hardly what you’d call defensible.
How were we going to find what we were looking for in time?
Though it was a short rest in the grand scheme of things, I almost regretted giving them time to recuperate; the shenanigans by the river had allowed them to recover their stamina and raised their morale, sure, but I should have kept pushing them. Maybe we would have found the place by now.
Our task was made more difficult by the fact that we had no idea what we were actually looking for. The Grotto had been found by outsiders only when they’d literally stumbled upon it, but I had to assume the gnomes’ ancestral home would be better hidden—probably much deeper underground.
Coll thought we should look for simple crevices and caves; that a natural, unassuming entrance was the ancient gnomes’ most likely form of defense. Contrarily, Benin suggested we ought to look for subtle signs that might indicate hidden doors, much like those the dwarves were rumored to dwell behind, while Bekkit argued that we should instead seek evidence of rockslides.
“’Tis more likely after all this time the entrance may have been covered by nature rather than design,” he insisted.
Ket seemed unusually quiet, thoughtful. I often caught her gazing up at the mountain peaks with a sad, wistful sort of frown on her face. When I questioned her about it, she seemed confused, as though I’d snapped her out of a daze. All she said was, “This whole place seems familiar, somehow. As though I’ve been here before…”
“I’ve actually been meaning to ask—what were you before you became a Core?” asked Benin curiously.
The question seemed to startle her. “I… don’t recall,” she said. Then she quickly flitted away.
The mage narrowed his eyes but said nothing. Then his face lit up when the emberfox took a piece of jerky from his hand. After a moment’s consideration, he tossed a piece in Binky’s direction too. Ordinarily I would have been thrilled that Binky had made a new friend. But it was difficult to take satisfaction in anything with the weight of our task pressing down on me so heavily.
We were so close I could almost taste my mana again; could almost see the tendrils of green Faith flowing from my denizens and into my gem.
I longed for things I’d taken for granted and even complained about in the past. I missed using Growth on shroomtree mycelia and witnessing my denizens’ awe at seeing them sprout instantly like magic. I longed to Create new god-born, to use Evolution on Ris’kin and Binky, and to order a greater number of gnomes to go scout so that I could unlock the profession for more of them.
But all of that cost mana, and so among my denizens our seekers were limited to Longshank and the remaining four scouts (Toc, Strider, Artemis, and Hindmarch) as well as Swift and Cheer, since their Scavenge ability allowed me to send them out beyond my Sphere without expending mana.
Benin and Coll were doing the best they could to help, as was Ris’kin, but it was clear we needed to spread our net even wider.
“Coll, Benin—keep searching around the base of the mountain. Take Bekkit with you—you can travel further and send him back with word if you find anything.” They both nodded and started packing away the remains of their breakfast. Bekkit activated Terrestrial Body, his sparks disappearing as he became a mundane sprite. I’d no longer be able to communicate with him in this state, but it allowed him to travel outside my Sphere of Influence for a limited time.
“The scouts will comb the trails again. Maybe this time they’ll find more than just shallow caves and animal burrows.”
“What about you?” asked Coll.
“I’ll go with Ris’kin.” Down below, my avatar faced the shadowed side of the nearest mountain. “We’ll climb the far side, see if there’s anything further up. If we don’t find an entrance, maybe we’ll at least find a cave big enough to shelter us all.”
I knew that sounded less than ideal, and the skeptical looks worn by the humans confirmed it, but they nodded anyway. The scouts shouldered their stonebows and followed Longshank, hitching a ride across the river on the badgers’ backs.
Ris’kin looked up at me. Her ear twitched. Ready? she seemed to ask.
I activated Double Sight, and an instant later was looking out of her one eye. My nose stung pleasantly with the crisp clean smell of the mountain and the cold water of the stream.
Let’s go find our new home.
The cave was perfect. Sort of.
It had taken us around four hours to reach it. We’d inspected every likely-looking crack and crevice on the way up here, had followed a few inside the mountain, but all of them had petered out into dead ends or become too narrow for even a skelemander to pass, let alone the gnomes and their wagons.
An overhang protected the cave’s entrance from the elements, providing a sort of sheltered porch. Nice and defensible. I like it.
The downside was that the cave was already inhabited.
We’d seen no signs of life yet, but the air inside the cave was thick with musk. Ris’kin’s nose and mouth were full of it, and her natural instincts had her hackles rising further with each step we took inside. Everything about the scent warned, “Danger: predator.”
Our growing unease was compounded as we passed mounds of bones. The broken skulls of small animals stared blankly at us as we passed, and Ris’kin bared her teeth at the sight of one that looked remarkably fox-like.
The cave itself was definitely large enough for our needs, and the sound of trickling water somewhere at the back was reassuring. It would require some… tidying up, of course, but the necessities were all here. I can work with this.
It wasn’t perfect, but it would serve just fine as our new home.
Except for the bear.
I only glimpsed it because of Ris’kin’s darkvision. It wasn’t until it ambled out of the shadows that I fully appreciated just how menacing it was.
Mountain Bear
Mammal
Dwells in the mountain ranges of Kelaria and Rilanon. The mountain bear is best known for two things: its ability to climb sheer surfaces, and its incredible sense of smell. With almost double the number of scent receptors as the average dog, the mountain bear’s olfactory capabilities allow it to detect food even through several meters of ice or water, and they have even been known to target prey up to 20 leagues distant.
The mountain bear typically spends 3-4 months of every year in hibernation. The rest of its time is spent hunting, mating, rearing cubs, and dismembering anything foolish enough to wander into its territory.
It towered over my avatar. Sir Fura squeaked in terror, and Ris’kin and I both barely swallowed a similar noise ourselves. The bear was as tall at the shoulder as Coll, and must have weighed more than thirty dire badgers put together.
The bear’s warning growl reverberated around the cave. I felt it as well as heard it, a deep vibration in Ris’kin’s very bones that triggered the most primal of instincts in both of us.
Run, you idiots! they screamed.
Th
e mountain bear’s roar seemed to shake the very ground as we fled the cave. The bear thundered in pursuit.
We had a moment’s indecision when we emerged back out onto the mountainside, but it was obvious the only way was up. The bear would easily chase us down if we descended; our only hope of surviving this chase was to outrun it, and our only hope of outrunning it was to out-nimble it.
We leapt for a nearby outcropping, hauling ourselves up and pausing just long enough to get our balance before reaching for the next. The bear skidded to a stop on the ‘porch’ and sniffed the air, then turned its head toward us and roared again. Pebbles pattered down from above, stinging Ris’kin’s face and making Sir Fura squeak and clutch her shoulder tighter.
Angry we out-climbed you? I thought with some satisfaction. Don’t worry, Mr. Bear, there’s always next time—
The bear launched itself at the rocks below us. Its plate-sized paws and knife-like claws didn’t need to find holds for purchase; they made their own, puncturing the steep rock face as easily as an awl into leather. It began to climb.
Oh. Oh, no.
Ris’kin needed no urging. She kept moving up the mountainside with all the agility she could muster. Her muscles began to burn but still she kept putting hand in front of hand, climbing up by the trickiest paths in the hope that they would slow the bear down, or perhaps make it give up the chase altogether. It didn’t.
Worst of all, it was gaining on us. Every path we took, no matter how difficult or how much dexterousness it required, the bear simply thundered up with brute force. I’d never seen anything like it. Its claws not only penetrated the very rock, they also held the bear’s incredible weight as it climbed the ever more precarious terrain, marching up near-vertical surfaces with no more difficulty than a spider might.
How are we going to lose it?
There was no way we’d survive if it caught up to us. I could almost feel its hot breath on the back of our heels. Panic and adrenaline surged through Ris’kin she gave in to her flight instincts and continued her panicked climb nimbly yet mindlessly.
A bit of rock gave way and we were forced to leap to the side and catch another one. The bear continued the same path—blindly following rather than seeking its own path. That was probably the only reason it hadn’t caught us sooner.
Mindlessly…
Something clicked into place. My racing mind slowed enough to formulate the barest bones of a plan.
Up there, I told Ris’kin. A few meters above us was an outcropping that jutted out from the mountain to form a ledge for those above it, and a near insurmountable obstacle for those below.
My avatar stared up at the outcropping doubtfully. Then the bear roared again. This time I could definitely feel its hot breath right below our feet.
Ris’kin surged into action, drawing on reserves of strength cultivated and enhanced by weeks of forced marching. Sir Fura chattered encouragement into her ear, the squirrel’s tiny claws prickling her shoulder as he clung on for dear life. When she reached the outcropping, brave Ris’kin did not hesitate. She reached first for one handhold, then another. I’d half expected her to let go with her toes, legs dangling above the drop below as she monkey-barred her way along. Instead, she simply sought footholds in the rock and continued to climb as she had been.
I knew if she were to glance over her shoulder, we’d see the dizzying drop below as we clung to the outcropping’s underside like a strange rust-colored spider. Thankfully she remained focused on where we were going, rather than where we might end up. Carefully, she moved her hands and feet as though climbing a regular wall, though her entire body trembled and her fingertips burned with the weight of keeping us anchored. I couldn’t help but remember the last time we’d been in such a situation—the mole-rat fight, so long ago now. How far we’d come since then.
And it will all be for nothing if we fall here.
The thought of our task pushed us both on, and soon enough we were hauling ourselves shakily up over the outcropping’s edge. We rolled onto the ledge, allowing a few seconds to catch our breath.
The bear intended to allow no such thing.
Heavy growling and snorting announced its presence just below. It had somehow followed us even here. But we were ready for it. Though Ris’kin’s limbs were still trembling, she pushed herself up onto all fours, raising her tail expectantly and baring her teeth in what I knew to be a wicked grin.
One of the bear’s massive paws thudded into view, claws scraping against the rock and then digging in with a crunch.
Wait for it…
A second paw appeared.
Wait for it…
The instant the bear’s face loomed into view, Ris’kin unleashed the most powerful weapon in her… arsenal.
Defensive Spray
Expel strong-smelling musk from the anal glands in order to disorient and deter predators.
The beast got a faceful of the pungent liquid. Its snout spasmed, the creature’s sensitive olfactory organs no doubt burning in agony as they attempted to process the foul fox musk it had just inhaled. It shook its head violently, snorting and huffing, and its claws slipped a little on the rock. But it still didn’t fall.
A stone smacked off the bear’s brow ridge. A second later, another stone clipped one of its incisors, chipping the tooth and making the bear roar even more furiously.
Sir Fura jumped up and down, then spun in a circle as he launched his third stone. This one smacked the bear straight in the middle of its nose. Its head jerked back, and one of its massive paws lost its grip on the ledge, but it still hung on with the other.
Inspired by her squirrel partner’s bravery, Ris’kin crawled closer to the edge. The bear roared in her face, saliva flying, eyes still squinted shut from the musk. She snarled right back at it, curled her fingers into a fist, and punched it square on the nose.
With one final roar, the bear fell, clawing deep gouges into the stone before its weight pulled it down. We leaned over to watch it fall—to make sure it wasn’t still somehow clinging underneath the ledge—and were satisfied to hear its roar as it hit the mountain far below and continued to roll down the sheer surface until it was out of sight. It would take several hours for it to climb back up here, assuming it was uninjured enough to do so, and we’d be long gone by then.
Ris’kin lay back to recover her strength, and for a few moments we stared up at the cobalt-blue sky, reveling in the sensation of having just punched a bear in the face. The air was colder up here, especially so on the shadowy side of the mountain; the sun was reaching its zenith, but had yet to crest the peaks and begin its crawl down the other side. My avatar’s breath steamed, as did her fur, her body rapidly cooling after the strenuous chase.
“Ow!”
She sat up abruptly, rubbing her leg. Beside Ris’kin, Sir Fura hopped from foot to foot, then raised his gray-furred arm to throw another stone at us.
“We’re getting up! We’re getting up.”
It couldn’t hear me, obviously, but it seemed satisfied, and tucked the stone into its stomach pouch instead. I frowned at it. How much could it fit in there anyway?
The squirrel bounded along the ledge in front of us. We appeared to have stumbled upon a trail of some sort, which was unexpected given that we were nearly at the mountain’s summit. I squinted up the path.
We’re almost at the top. May as well keep going. Perhaps from that new vantage we’d finally spy what we were looking for among the valley below.
I’d expected a peak. What we found was a caldera.
The shallow crater stretched out before us like the promised land. It was easily wide enough for the Grotto to fit inside it a hundred times over.
My gaze was immediately drawn to the area directly beneath us, where a lake of deep blue sparkled in the sunlight. Small ripples here and there confirmed the presence of fish, and its position at the very top of the mountain meant it was guaranteed to be freshwater.
And not a single bear in sight.
Fresh water, fish, a natural barrier against the outside world—just like the cave below, it had all the bare necessities for our survival.
No, I realized as my gaze traveled further. It’s much more than that.
Beyond the lake, what I’d initially dismissed as rock formations were in fact ruined buildings. Among the broken rocks were weathered bricks, dessicated wood foundations, even glints of glass and metal. Poking up here and there were walls that had remained intact, and even one or two entire buildings that had somehow survived whatever cataclysm had befallen this place.
It was tricky to determine scale from where we stood, but it was clear from the remaining doorways that these structures were once home to a civilization of folk who were much, much smaller in size than elves or humans.
What looked like catapults of some kind were spaced out all around the edges of the crater, and at the far side were unbuilt expanses of what I hoped was tillable earth. Beyond those were a range of raised mounds, as though a miniature mountain range had begun to push up through the ground. Even Ris’kin’s eyes could only pick out rock and rubble.
Part of me wanted to investigate more thoroughly. But the blinking timer in my vision reminded me there was no time to lose.
Time remaining for Exodus: 2 days, 7 hours, 32 minutes
When we’d looked up at the mountain from below, there was no indication that its summit contained such a treasure, no hint of this hidden valley from any angle. But there was no question that this was the place we’d been searching for.