The Ryle of Zentule

by Michael Green

  A team of ychorons rushed out into the pit, grabbed Andy, and tore off the ruined robes. The bloody chain beneath gleamed in the flashing light from above.

  “Look! How could any of you say that a human child, of the debased surface, would even be able to stand, and only stand, before my mantis. Look at his corpse, now ruined, and by what? Any child, any one of billions, would have cried and pleaded in the moments before death.”

  There was no reply.

  He’s saying that I’m not myself. Andy paused, and considered that for a moment. Haven’t I been saying that the whole time?

  Ziesqe waved at the ychorons, and they directed him out of the pit. Andy stumbled as he went, and when they reached the armory, he fell to the ground, his hands clutching at bloody wounds.

  The ychorons carried him to a medical room. They removed his destroyed armor and applied minoe to his wounds. Finally, one offered him a drink of the quicksilver fluid, and Andy felt better, though this time it was many minutes before he could stand.

  “Probably a few broken ribs,” one ychoron said to another.

  “How could he endure? The pale mantis is our deadliest.”

  “The master may have a point,” the other responded.

  “Our master is most erudite, but this is heresy,” the first ychoron looked at Andy as he spoke.

  “His wounds, how severe were they? Should he have been able to fight and win, let alone survive?”

  “I can’t say. How often do we treat Seers?”

  There was a silence as they worked.

  “Llanyly will probably be executed.”

  The other laughed. “Why did he call out like that?”

  “Perhaps the shock of such a claim moved him to insubordination,” the ychoron said, shrugging.

  Finally, Andy had to speak, “What exactly was that claim? What did your Master mean when he spoke about me?”

  They were both silent.

  “Oh come on, I’m just a kid, remember?”

  That earned him suspicious glances.

  “What’s going to happen to me?” he asked, nursing the now healed wounds on his torso, and looking as helpless as he could.

  One of the ychorons rolled its eyes, though the other looked sympathetic.

  “You’ve been assigned chambers and a guard. You should also keep armor on, whenever in the halls. The spawn may try and kill you if they get the chance.” The sympathetic ychoron spoke curtly.

  “Spawn?”

  The ychorons both huffed a quick laugh.

  “Certainly, you’ve seen them. The damnable flapping heads that are waging petty wars all over Zentule.”

  The other laughed. “I’d like to see them campaign off the palace grounds for once.”

  “Indeed, a nice excursion in the Nightmare would set them right.”

  “And Zentule?” Andy asked, digging further.

  The ychorons shared a condescending look.

  “The Voice of the Dead God?” One scoffed.

  The other broke out in laughter.

  “Guys, please. I have no idea what’s going on here.”

  “Zentule is the name of this palace and its grounds,” the sympathetic one said.

  “Raised by our master out of the murky Nightmare itself, and now a living testament to ryle ingenuity.”

  “So, you do respect Ziesqe. Because a moment ago you didn’t sound like it,” Andy said.

  They were taken aback.

  “Our master allows his ychorons and brutox more freedom of thought than any ryle I’ve seen, and I’ve worked for a few in my time.”

  “That’s right, you were with Juukvel not long ago.”

  The sympathetic one nodded. “We might take it for granted, Llanyly certainly did. We’ll wait and learn where we stand, but I hope Llanyly is executed. I would hate for the palace to fall to the rot of such a base insurrection.”

  Andy had never heard such a sentiment in his life.

  Executed for speaking out. And they think it’s a good idea. Just when they were starting to make sense…

  The door opened. A brutox of beetle type stepped in and stared at Andy.

  “They are going to take you to your chambers. Remember to stay armored, and do not try to lose your escort. They are there to protect you.”

  The medical ychorons gave Andy one last condescending look before turning back to their organizing.

  The brutox bore a battle axe. He let it rest against his shoulder. Andy followed him to a hall that was narrower and darker than the one he had been through before.

  A dozen other brutox were standing nearby. All were the stout and hardy beetle type, save one. The odd one out was another pale mantis. The mantis towered over the other brutox, and the plates of its body were outlined in sharp pink. It was bulkier, compared to the one he had fought, and showed signs of old damage on its plates. Heavy cuts had left their mark.

  Andy stared at the mantis and saw something akin to emotion on its alien face. There was a trace of pain and anger in its eyes, but only for a moment.

  “I didn’t want to do it,” Andy said plainly. “Ziesqe will kill my family if I don’t cooperate.”

  At hearing this, the beetles glanced at the mantis, who was still. The mantis turned and led the way.

  The brutox led him through the hall to a set of circular stairs. They came out to a wider hall, though this one was busier than the last. After a few minutes of walking they turned back onto the main hall with the pool.

  Andy scowled at the motionless water, knowing something hid beneath.

  There was commotion up ahead, and the beetles readied their axes.

  Is that another human?

  Andy thought he was seeing a giant man in shackles screaming his lungs out.

  It is, and he looks familiar.

  The man was tugging on the chains and tripping his captors.

  The man leaped over a wall of stumbling brutox and rushed away, pulling about two dozen chains, each connected between his limbs and a brutox captor. The scene nearly had Andy falling over with laughter, especially when the captors slid across the floor, their carapaces throwing up sparks.

  The beetles looked to the mantis, who watched in silence.

  The man lunged at one of the flapping heads. He grabbed it and swung the beast by its tentacles.

  Alarmed, a brutox jumped onto his back and tried to weigh him down. More brutox clambered onto the first, and after a long moment the warrior finally fell to his knees.

  What a monster, that guy! Andy grinned.

  The beetles tapped the blades of their weapons against their plated chests in something akin to applause.

  Finally, the mantis began moving again. Andy and the brutox followed, though, as they passed Andy slowed to get a closer look at the warrior.

  I remember, in Caspia they called him Thrag.

  “Thrag?” Andy asked the writhing mass of bodies.

  A mere, half-second later the pile of brutox erupted outwards. They all flew the distance their chains allowed before smacking into the ground.

  Andy ducked as one arced past his head and landed in the pool.

  Eyes wide, Andy got a closer look at Thrag. The man was craggy beyond belief. He looked like he’d been carved from a chunk of marble. His threadbare clothes and furs were torn to pieces and barely hung together over his rippling bundles of muscle.

  He stared at Andy, his manic eyes swimming and his mouth slowly moving, as if he were speaking phantom words.

  He’s insane.

  Andy felt his face twist with pity.

  The brutox readied their weapons, but they didn’t pull Andy away.

  “Thrag?” Andy asked again.

  Something came loose in Thrag’s mind and he seemed to focus.

  “Caspian! We need—” Thrag lunged towards Andy and grabbed him.

  A beetle plunged his axe into Thrag’s shoulder, but the man didn’t blink.

  “What! What did they do to you?” Thrag grabbed Andy by the jaw and pulled him fo
rward, his own brazen face contorted in frenzied sympathy.

  “I’m fine, Thrag!” Andy complained, trying to free himself from the crushing grip.

  “Can you speak! Where is your sight?” Thrag looked around. “They have us, Caspian!”

  A score of brutox weapons tore into him. He released Andy and began to rip his chains asunder, oblivious to the wounds.

  The beetles surrounded Andy and pulled him away. The sounds of violence echoed down the hall. Andy struggled fruitlessly against his guards to see.

  Finally, he slipped free and looked back. Thrag was motionless on the floor. Andy stood and stared for a long moment, almost unbelieving.

  Andy felt his body wrack in agony. But he knew something was wrong.

  How has he not been killed up till now? I saw him fight a mantis barehanded. He was a wild man, and he knew Caspian, who’s been dead for—well, longer than I’ve been alive at least. How has he stayed alive this whole time?

  Andy considered an alternative.

  Maybe he wasn’t always so suicidally crazy. Either way, he kept calling me Caspian. Pythia did too. I saw a likeness of Caspian once—the mosaic Musi and Arke were working on. I look nothing like him.

  Andy scowled and watched as ychorons rushed to clean up the mess and take the wounded to the medics. Strangely, the brutox holding the chains continued their watch over Thrag’s body, as if no one had given them permission to stop.

  Finally, the mantis stepped up beside Andy and gave him a blank look.

  I’m being rude to my captors.

  Andy sighed, and followed his guards.

  Chapter 4

  Following Footsteps

  Letty walked into her first class of the day: history. A few glances held on her longer than she liked. She refused to meet their eyes, wondering how much they knew.

  She had only missed two days of class while she was in the Netherscape. Emma waved, while Becky, Brook, and Quinn gave her six raised eyebrows.

  Hurray.

  Letty took her seat, and she tried to keep from sneering.

  “Where have you been?” Becky and Brook asked in the same instant.

  “That boy people saw you with, the Lice boy—some people think—well, people are talking, Letty,” Quinn said, displeased. “This looks bad, and we couldn’t even reach you.”

  “I told you, she was grounded after the museum field trip. She has strict parents; obviously they took her phone,” Emma retorted, before Letty had a chance.

  “Right—” Letty said, ready to let it go, but she continued dryly, “I donated my collection of last winter’s clothes and they found out.”

  “What’s wrong with that? I do—”

  “I do that too! Oh, we’re so alike, you know,” Becky preened, interrupting Brook.

  Quinn wasn’t convinced.

  “I’m basically off limits for the rest of the week,” Letty said.

  “Yeah, okay, so you’re grounded for the week, but where were you for two days?” Quinn asked.

  “My parents know how much I love you guys. Going to school wasn’t enough of a punishment,” Letty said, hiding her face in her backpack. She found her cell and saw a dozen missed calls and ten times as many text messages. Letty rolled her eyes and dropped the phone back into her pack before retrieving her binder.

  “That’s not fair!” Brook complained.

  “We need to talk; everything went crazy when you were gone,” Becky rambled.

  Finally, Ms. Aldridge walked in.

  “Ah, Lysette is back. I’d like your report on—what was it? Valley Forge, I believe. Now please, you already had extra time.”

  Oh God. I didn’t do it.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Aldridge. Due to private circumstances, I didn’t actually have a chance to—”

  “See me after class,” she interrupted calmly, before writing the day’s lesson on the white board.

  Letty’s face flushed red, and she clenched her fists.

  Damn! I was on a roll in this class! This will sink my grade. Hell, everyone is staring again.

  Dean walked into class quietly and tried to dodge the teacher’s line of sight. He made it to the desks before nudging one, attracting Ms. Aldridge’s attention.

  “Lunch detention,” she said.

  Wow, she must have a hearing aid or something—that was ridiculous.

  Dean stopped as he saw Letty. He looked to Andy’s empty desk and then back to her.

  “Take your seat, Mr. Loggia!” Ms. Aldridge was beginning to fray.

  Dean rushed to his seat, but Letty felt him staring her way for the rest of the hour.

  The bell rang, and she rushed to leave, but Ms. Aldridge stopped her cold with a glance. She stood by her teacher’s desk as everyone left. Dean, Emma, and Quinn all tarried on their way out, clearly trying to listen in. A glare from Ms. Aldridge sent them running.

  “So, where were you, and why didn’t you do that report?” Ms. Aldridge asked.

  “Call my parents, please. I don’t want to talk about it,” Letty said, looking at the ground.

  Ms. Aldridge leaned back in her chair. “Well, I will call your parents. I hope nothing happened. I can always refer you to the school psychiatrist if you want to talk to someone more privately.”

  She isn’t mad at me.

  The woman was concerned.

  I wish she was mad at me. I feel even worse for lying.

  Letty turned down the offer and thanked her before trying to leave.

  “We just found out that Lysander—Andy, is missing. His parents have been calling. He’s been gone since Sunday. You don’t know anything about that, do you?”

  “No, ma’am,” Letty said, biting her cheeks.

  “Okay. I wish you could tell me what happened, because, as it stands, you’ll have lunch detention today for not handing in your report. I’ll give you more time, but don’t let this—whatever it is—sink your grades, young lady. It isn’t as important as your future.”

  Letty nodded and walked out.

  She felt herself start to tear up.

  In homeroom, Mr. Holt made an announcement about Andy’s disappearance. He asked if anyone knew anything. He gave Letty a plaintive look which drew more attention her way. When he asked to talk to her after homeroom, she ran out, sick of the scrutiny.

  Her next few classes went by with no issue, and she even felt herself calming down.

  Finally, lunch came, and she went to the cafeteria to grab a tray. Her friends followed.

  “Can’t you skip detention? Like, do it tomorrow—we need to talk,” Brook said. Letty thought Brook might explode with questions and pointless insinuation.

  “I don’t think it works that way,” Becky said.

  Letty gave them a sad look before heading back to the hallway.

  At least I get to eat lunch in peace—provided Mr. Holt leaves me alone.

  Dean bumped into her, and she scrambled to keep from dropping her tray. “Watch out!” she snapped at him.

  “I’m so sorry, Lysette—I wasn’t paying attention,” he stammered, picking up his milk carton and brown-bagged lunch.

  Damn, he has lunch detention too. I was hoping for peace.

  Letty rolled her eyes and rushed down the hall with Dean a few steps behind.

  In Mr. Holt’s classroom, she suffered a stern glare for walking out earlier.

  Mr. Holt closed the door, but as he did so Emma appeared out of nowhere with a tray of food and slammed into him. He was doused in milk and rectangular strips of pizza.

  “Emma, why?” Mr. Holt exclaimed.

  “Sorry! Oh my god! I’m so sorry,” She said. Letty spied the slightest smirk at the corner of her mouth.

  Mr. Holt looked at Letty as if she was responsible.

  “You want lunch detention that badly, fine, you can have it for the rest of the week. And I’m sending a note home to your parents,” Mr. Holt said as he headed towards the washroom, dripping with milk.

  “Fine—thanks, Mr. Holt,” Emma said, walking
into the classroom.

  She gave Dean a cruel look before sitting down next to Letty.

  “Where were you?” Emma’s tone was almost desperate. “I went to your place and your parents—they were crazy—it was like they didn’t even know me or remember you! What’s going on? I thought you were dead, and they were in denial!” Emma rambled, her face going flush.

  “You don’t want to know, and you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  Emma wasn’t satisfied and stared with entreaty.

  “Look, I’m grateful that you cared enough to check on me, but you don’t want to get involved.”

  “The weird thing is, Andy’s parents still remember me. And now you show up, and he’s still gone,” Dean said, butting into their conversation.

  “Don’t talk to us!” Emma retorted.

  “Wait, you said Andy’s parents still remember him?” Letty asked.

  “Yes, they do, and I’m sure your parents remembered you too. Not to call you a liar, Emma,” Dean said rationally.

  “No,” Letty said, shaking her head, “the people Emma saw at my apartment weren’t my parents.”

  Dean grimaced.

  “There’s no point in even talking about it; you won’t believe me,” she said softly.

  Silence.

  “Dean, look, I need you to tell me what Andy was up to before he went missing,” she said firmly.

  I need to find out how he got into the Netherscape.

  “Why? Are you looking for him?” Dean asked.

  “Yes. I’m going to find him.”

  Dean shook his head. “I barely know the guy. I almost wish I didn’t. The last thing we did together was go to the Masters Gallery with his dad.”

  The Masters? I should check it out.

  “We talked about him getting glasses at the museum. He was shaken up about it. You don’t think he ran off because he didn’t want to get glasses, do you?”

  Letty shook her head. “I saw him at the optometrist’s. That’s all I remember, until...”

  The images of Caspia and Andy being captured flashed before her.

  “I managed to escape, but he didn’t make it,” Letty said, looking down at her uneaten food.

  Emma and Dean shared a concerned look. That made Letty angry.

  I don’t need them; I’ve got Quill and Staza. They’re fearless and they know the truth, unlike these two.