The Ryle of Zentule

by Michael Green

  “What? It’s a weapon from your world. You need a way to fight, if you lose the Argument. Remember what happened to Andy? Ziesqe disarmed him, and he had nothing to turn to,” Quill reasoned, and Staza nodded.

  Letty stared blankly.

  He’s right.

  “This pistol is like a tiny crossbow, but loud and it can shoot six times before reloading. It can kill with a single shot,” Letty said gravely.

  “Efficient,” Staza said, eying the revolver.

  Letty unloaded it and put the cartridges and pistol in her pocket. She felt her heart pumping—the sensation of culture shock had never been stronger.

  I thought that deep down they must remember something from living on the surface, but this proves that they don’t.

  “Do you want to lead the way?” Staza asked Letty.

  Letty readied the Argument and summoned the blade. “Sure.”

  She stepped through. Staza and Quill followed.

  Once on the other side, they all stood in silence.

  “Are we huge, or is that tiny?” Letty asked.

  “The mice,” Quill said, approaching and examining what appeared to be the work of a miniature civilization.

  Tiny beings had carved a huge and complex fortress into the walls of the cavern. A cobblestone path led forward. They moved slowly, each fascinated by the skilled work on everything in sight, from the ballistae, to the arches and battlements.

  “The Infiniteye,” Letty said, spotting the symbol amid decorative carving.

  “I see it over here too,” Staza added.

  Eventually they ran into a chain that blocked the path, and further ahead there were more blocking the way.

  “Do you smell that?” Quill asked, carefully stepping over the first chain.

  “Something’s burning,” Letty answered.

  They negotiated the chains and left the cavern, stopping before a smoldering wreck.

  “What happened here?” Staza asked.

  Stone buildings had crumbled and were smoke stained.

  “This is the mouse city,” Letty said. “The siege Titus was returning to. This was it.”

  “It looks like the mice lost,” Staza said.

  Quill searched one of the discrete piles of rubble. “Letty’s right. This is one of their floating blocks. Hundreds or thousands of mice lived in each of these.”

  They looked around and counted a dozen such wrecked structures.

  “That can’t have been all of them though, this space is too big for only these few,” Staza said, gesturing across the expanse behind the strange city walls.

  “Yes, and where are the bodies? There aren’t any corpses in the wreckage,” Quill remarked.

  “Did you say that these floated?” Letty asked.

  Quill nodded.

  “Maybe they escaped,” Staza added.

  Letty sighed, hoping that they all got away.

  “I don’t know why, but I feel like this was my fault,” she said, trying to link the chain of events in her mind.

  Staza grasped her hand. “Don’t start thinking like that. This is a place of war. The mice have had enemies for centuries.”

  Quill nodded.

  Letty knew they were right, but standing in the ruins, it was hard to stop moping.

  They walked through the wreckage and closer to the city gates.

  “Is that a wall?” Staza asked.

  “A city wall made of statuary.” Quill laughed. “This is Sentinel’s Watch. The last bastion of the Occidentus Obscurus.”

  “Not anymore,” Staza said.

  Quill arched his neck. “Look up; the cavern lights should have been our first clue. We’re back in Pansubprimus.”

  Letty looked up and remembered the colorful sky. He called it a cavern. That means there’s a roof up there. There were several colors pulsing back and forth chaotically.

  “But it’s not right; the cavern is in flux,” Quill noted.

  “Have you ever seen that before?” Staza asked.

  “It’s a sign of change. It’s reacting to the defeat of this city,” Quill said.

  Letty spotted a thin strand of amber color among the others; it stretched into the distance.

  “How far are we from Caspia?” Staza asked, also spotting the amber.

  “A day, I think. I don’t know the roads. We could follow the Amber,” Quill said.

  “We aren’t going to Caspia,” Letty snapped.

  Neither answered.

  Staza looked to the ground. “Maybe we could pass by and look. Just to see how they’re doing. Maybe if our Mistress is back, she’ll make a portal for Letty…” Staza trailed off, realizing how unlikely that was.

  “Ziesqe’s forces will still be all over the surrounding scape,” Quill said, shaking his head, “and Pythia, helping Letty—” he scoffed.

  “Yeah, she hates me now,” Letty said.

  Letty saw they wanted to hear more, but she didn’t want to offend them with her opinion of Pythia.

  I’m pretty sure I called her a cow and told Andy to kill her.

  “So, where?” Staza asked.

  “There are portals for hire in Degoskirke; maybe we could find Ziesqe’s estates that way. We have to pass through Vychy land to get to the city, and they aren’t friendly to Seers,” Quill said.

  Staza laughed. “I’m not afraid of the mice.”

  Quill looked at her sternly. “I’ve read that they move in warbands of many thousands. They’ll be wearing tiny armor, and wielding small pole-arms and crossbows, but imagine a thousand needles shot at you,” Quill said.

  Letty cringed at the thought. “Can we go around their land?”

  Quill shrugged, and said, “We haven’t sent people out here since I became a pupil, so we don’t know what the borders are today. With this city coming down, there will be a land grab for the defeated territories.”

  “Well, at least we know which way to go,” Letty said, moving towards the destroyed gates.

  “Oh, my, God!” A familiar voice echoed from behind.

  Oh no.

  Quill and Staza spun in a flash, weapons raised, but Letty turned far more slowly.

  No, please no.

  She saw Emma and Dean standing there, with their mouths ajar and eyes wide.

  Chapter 7

  Hyadoth

  Andy heard the door open. “I’m getting up. Just give me a minute,” he mumbled.

  “There is no time for this!”

  He opened his eyes, and, instead of his mother, he saw a green fox face.

  Andy screamed and rolled sharply out of bed.

  The ychorons laughed up a storm.

  Andy peeked out from under his blankets. One of them was jolting with laughter. Her feathers shifted color slightly.

  He felt hands around his arms, pulling him up.

  “You’ve got a big day ahead,” Inxa said, before turning to the others and overseeing his preparations.

  “I can dress myself, damn it!” He pulled away to another chorus of laughter.

  “Just surrender,” Inxa insisted.

  Andy did, and endured another thorough scrubbing.

  “So, am I fighting the ravager today?” He asked as they finished layering his robes.

  Inxa rolled her eyes. “Today we mount the ravager. This way.” She opened the door as a fight outside was dying down.

  Andy stepped out and saw armies of slithers engaging each other on the walls and ceiling. The flapping heads were leading charges and squealing up a storm. Andy spotted one getting mobbed by a dozen slithers. They piled onto it and held on anywhere they could. The extra weight meant the flapping head couldn’t stay aloft, and it spiraled pathetically down into the black pool.

  It’s always a bad day for someone.

  A giant beak emerged from the water. It silently swallowed the head before sinking back into the depths.

  Andy tapped Inxa. “What the hell was that?”

  “A wife, I expect, though who can say?”

  “A wife?�
� Andy thought he hadn’t heard that correctly.

  She nodded.

  Andy stopped walking and looked back at the water.

  “Ziesqe’s wife?” He asked incredulously.

  Inxa looked at him like he was acting strangely. “Yes. One of many.”

  Andy sputtered, and then burst out laughing.

  That poor bastard! It explains everything!

  Other ychorons and brutox stopped what they were doing to stare, but there was no end to his laughter.

  Inxa gestured to the beetles, and they hoisted Andy, carrying him along.

  “Do they—hahahaha, do they swim upstream to spawn? Hahahahah!” Andy was crying, his ribs ached and his cheeks burned, but finally the laughter sputtered out.

  “Insane, these humans,” Inxa said as they came into an expansive foyer.

  Creatures were rushing through the halls with cargo, food, weapons, bundles of pegs, and sheets. He saw through the fortress gates. Several large tents swayed awkwardly.

  “That’s odd,” Andy said, wiping tears from his cheeks.

  They navigated the bustling foyer. Andy gawked at a giant pile of casks, and then at a rack of dozens of lanterns. “Field trip?” he speculated.

  They stepped through the gates, and Andy got a closer look at the tents. They were moving, if slightly.

  “Wait a second.”

  The slate path that exited the gate terminated, and stairwells to the left and right led down. Straight ahead, past the point where the slate ended, there was something else. Curved, ribbed, and reddish brown. Andy looked to the left, and then to the right.

  “That’s the ravager?”

  “Of course.”

  No way I’m getting on a giant bug.

  Andy slowed, but his guards picked him up again. He considered resisting.

  They’d just drag me on, anyway.

  Andy settled with complaining. “Really?” he moaned at Inxa. “Is this really the best way to travel?”

  Inxa ignored him, and waited for a load of casks to be brought aboard before stepping on. She waved the beetles forward, and they carried Andy up the gangway. Andy looked down the gap between the ravager’s plated back and the ground so far below.

  This is the dock. It almost makes sense now.

  The beetles put Andy down once they were aboard.

  “Okay, great, giant centipede. But why not just use portals? I know they exist,” Andy whined.

  “For such a force, portals are prohibitively expensive. At least the manual ones are. There are a few permanent ones, but they have fixed destinations,” Inxa said plainly. “And besides, there is something you have failed to grasp about the ryle: They love attention and status. And almost nothing is more expensive and impressive than an armed retinue mounted on a fleet of personal ravagers.”

  Andy felt that his eyes might roll right out of their sockets. I understand buying a sports car, but this is a whole new dimension of overboard.

  “What are you doing, Inxa?” an irritated voice called out from the dock.

  Andy saw Zava coming up the gangway.

  “What is it now?” Inxa complained.

  “We need to get him in his cage—now! Before the guests arrive!” Zava grabbed Andy by the arm and pulled him towards one end of the ravager.

  “Who’s coming?” Inxa asked, following along.

  “Did I hear that right? I’m going to be put in a cage?” Andy interjected.

  They ignored him, and Andy felt his stomach sink.

  But I can’t be that surprised.

  “I know The Farsighted and the Bloody-Eyed will be here for certain.”

  “I spotted a blue ravager out past the walls,” Inxa said.

  “That’ll be the Marshall as well,” Zava said absentmindedly.

  They approached a platform. A large metal cage was being assembled atop. A chair sat inside, as well as several chains and shackles.

  Andy felt sick.

  “Go on then, and be quick about it.” Zava smacked him on the back of the head.

  “Leave him be, Zava. He’s just a child,” Inxa said haughtily.

  “Oh, and you’ve taken a liking to our enemy? Is that in fashion now?”

  Inxa laughed. “As much as bullying the defenseless has always been popular—with the mediocre.”

  Zava’s expression soured.

  Andy sighed and mounted the platform. A beetle held the cage door open for him, and he sat in the chair.

  The beetle was about to attach the shackles, but Andy raised a hand and did it himself. He needed assistance with the last one, which went around the neck. The beetle helped and the ychorons watched, the looks on their faces indiscernible.

  “Straighten out his robes; he has to look presentable,” Zava complained to the beetle before growling and jumping onto the platform to do it herself.

  Inxa followed, and the two arranged Andy’s chains and robes for a regal effect.

  “Don’t move if you can help it. Behave, and I’ll get you anything you want for lunch,” Inxa said.

  Andy felt a tear roll down his cheek. He saw it fall on his hand, not far from the obsidian bracelet, and the silver shackle. He was surprised to see the tear.

  I guess that makes sense. This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.

  With the cage door finally closed and locked, the ychorons shared satisfied glances.

  “He will be pleased. Now, let’s get back; the guests could arrive at any moment,” Zava said, turning to leave.

  Inxa gave Andy one last look before following.

  Andy took a long breath and tried to keep himself from crying.

  Hey, if I’m a good boy they might feed me my favorite snack!

  Andy sniffled and let his head rest on the bars.

  Maybe we can go for a walk too.

  The sarcasm only made him feel worse. Andy tipped his head back and felt the tears come.

  He looked up through the bars at the streaks of light across the sky. They burned afterimages over his vision.

  He tried to focus on them, but the welling tears blurred the flashes together. He blinked and pushed the tears away, but nothing would focus.

  “AAARGH!” A throaty voice bellowed.

  Andy saw Thrag slamming his fists against the bars of another cage and pulling against his chains. A team of lumbering, ape-like brutons, surrounded by dozens of armed brutox, were carrying him up the gangway.

  He’s not dead! They did stand ready by his corpse. They must have known… Is he immortal? He took so many wounds, and he looks fine, well, minus the cage and chains.

  Thrag burst into a tirade as he reached fruitlessly through the bars of his cage. “You there, insect, bring me your tender skull! YOU’RE DELICIOUS! And I’ll have that one with the claws for seconds! I bet you taste like lobster! You there! Monkey bird abomination in the whore’s chains, wouldn’t you like me to take care of this insect problem of yours? I’ll kill them all for free, just open my cage, and I’ll let you and your slave race live. What! Can’t you hear me? I don’t eat your kind; your bones give me splinters in unmentionable places!”

  A dead silence filled the air as every eye turned to the madman. Andy saw Ziesqe in golden and white finery watching the debacle from nearby. Thrag spotted him too, and his bellowing took a different tone.

  “I sailed the darkest sea on a raft sewn of severed tentacles, ripped from the faces of your lords. I traveled to your homeland and tore down your towers, like they were paper. I plucked your monkey birds and made feather gowns for women long dead. I ground your bug shells into pulp to dye my rags,” Thrag spoke between heavy breaths, his fists and legs working against the chains and the cage.

  Finally, Thrag unbalanced the team carrying him and tipped the cage. His hand reached out and snapped the neck of the closest brutox. He went for another, but then screamed as his body wracked with spasms.

  “Settle down or I’ll do it again!” an ychoron with an electrified pole yelled at Thrag.

  Thrag fl
ung imaginative obscenities at the ychoron.

  He endured another shock before they finally got his cage up and moving again.

  Andy couldn’t help but smile. He will never give in.

  Andy looked down at his own chains and felt pathetic. There was only a single guard keeping an eye on him. Thrag had more than he could count. Well, he probably doesn’t have family to worry about.

  They carried Thrag to the other side of the ravager. Of course they’re keeping him away from me. They don’t want a repeat of the other day. I wish I could talk to him. He’s crazy, but what does he know? More than me at least.

  Thrag’s bellowing died away in the distance.

  That was the high point of my day.

  But Andy pushed himself to pay attention. If Thrag can cause trouble while in a cage, maybe I can too. I need to keep myself from breaking down.

  Andy watched as pieces of ballistae were carried aboard and teams of brutox assembled platform mounts for the weapons. Ordered ranks of brutox appeared. They carried long barbed poles which sputtered flames from their tips.

  Tents and pavilions were erected here and there, and a low fortified wall encircled the perimeter of the flat space on the ravager’s wide back. The larger pavilions featured empty flagpoles, while one bore Ziesqe’s banner. Andy recalled the banner from his first meeting with Quill.

  They work so quickly.

  A trumpet blasted, and Andy strained to see the gangway.

  Giant ants, colored neon orange and dark brown, formed up on the dock. They carried halberds and bore banners featuring a clawed hand outstretched over a chessboard.

  I’ve never seen ant brutox before. They look nimble.

  Another ryle appeared in the crowd. As tall as Ziesqe, but maybe four times the width. His bulky frame was encased in orange and gold-plated armor. Andy realized that his face differed greatly from Ziesqe’s as they clasped forearms in greeting.

  This new one’s face is covered in white stripes. Is that scarring? It looks too regular.

  The guests came aboard, but Ziesqe waited at the gangway.

  A new squad of armed Ychorons appeared. They formed two columns on the path to the gangway, one side colored white, the other black.

  I haven’t seen ychorons go armed yet, but these ones are huge.