The Ryle of Zentule

by Michael Green

  “This will never work!” Boqreq complained as his knees gave way, and he had to be held up by his ychorons.

  “Be quiet, you old fool,” the red ryle grumbled loudly.

  “Give it a chance,” Kal yelled through the wind, “either way, the onus is on Ziesqe; we’re merely his witnesses. We cannot be punished.”

  The droplet burst, and a red-skinned monster strapped with fleshy muscle and purple veins clung underneath the promontory.

  It released the stone, and its leathery wings snapped open and caught the air. It glided over the arena, banked upward, stalled, and fell with practiced precision.

  It’s colossal.

  The monster crashed onto a high perch overlooking the arena. The ground shook and chunks of masonry exploded outward under its bulk. It took a heavy breath, and Andy saw a great pallid beak flash from underneath its thick growth of tentacles.

  Its black eyes glistened and focused on Ziesqe, who had grasped the podium.

  It makes Ziesqe look like a toy. It must be thirty feet tall.

  “Lord Xyth, high Custodian, we, your servants, have come to confirm that this prisoner speaks with the Voice of the Dead God. He will soon be taken by the Usurper. We ask leave of ascension to maintain a prison that will keep him contained for many decades to come!”

  Xyth’s wings fluttered and tensed as he listened. The wind died down, and he stared in silence at Ziesqe.

  “You grasp too long at this penultimate life,” Xyth’s voice rumbled through the air.

  Ziesqe was silent. He glanced down in shame.

  “This child Seer wears the Casque.” Xyth raised its bulbous head and claws to the audience. “Is he foolish enough to allow a child into his hold to steal an artifact? Am I to believe this?”

  The audience exploded with angry yelling.

  “Believe what you will, but the law of ownership means that this artifact cannot be separated from me,” Ziesqe said, rising to his full height.

  Xyth rumbled with guttural laughter. “We shall remove the child’s head before testing him then.”

  “No!” Ziesqe called out defiantly. “This is the Voice of the Dead God! This is Caspian’s next host! If I keep him enchained it will guarantee peace for our people for the extent of his natural life! If, like proud idiots, we kill him, the Usurper will find another host! What would the Maelstrom say when they discover this?”

  “How would they learn, after I grind your corpse into slush?”

  “Ah—I thought we might hit upon this impasse,” Ziesqe said. “And for that reason, I have supplied five of the most powerful ryle in Pansubprimus and Euboia to serve as my witnesses. I should have mentioned them sooner and saved you the posturing.”

  Xyth flexed his corded muscles. Andy heard them stretching from all the way across the arena.

  Ziesqe introduced the famous ryle in his company. The audience grumbled.

  “He’s done it,” Kal whispered. “Ziesqe has snared him.”

  “Test the child,” Xyth finally said.

  “Steel?” Ziesqe said, questioningly.

  “Argument,” Xyth answered.

  A cheer erupted from Ziesqe’s company, and even the audience had to applaud the anticipated combat.

  “The test will bring Caspian!” Ziesqe cried. “Empowered and unchained, you would unleash him?”

  “You had better hope he kills me. Let us hear our old enemy; I will find proof of the Usurper and chain him for you!”

  Ziesqe rushed back up the stairs, grumbling furiously. The cage was unlocked, and Andy was pulled out by a dozen grasping hands. Ziesqe was there, staring at him.

  “Listen to me now, Lysander. If you try to kill me, or any of my compatriots here, I will tear your body into pieces.” Ziesqe grabbed Andy’s wrist and tapped on the obsidian bracelet. “These will make you a stain on the walls, don’t forget that.”

  Andy was confused. “How could I even try? And why did you put this stupid helmet on me?”

  “You’ll see in a moment. But do not forget, we are off limits. Do you understand?” Ziesqe asked seriously.

  “I’m not stupid,” Andy complained. “What do I have to fight this time?”

  Ziesqe took Andy by the arm and led him down into the arena. “Don’t worry about that either.”

  Andy looked up and saw the crowd cheering and booing in a frenzy. Xyth held out a massive clawed hand. Crackling black light swirled around his body and, with a flash, there appeared a huge piece of the Counter-Argument.

  Xyth sighed and grasped it; his body lost its outline as a deep purple blur filled the surrounding air.

  “He’s not as stupid as I thought,” Ziesqe muttered as they moved to the center of the arena. “Avoid attacking him as well.”

  “Attack him? Why would I ever do that?” Andy screamed.

  He felt his knees shaking. Red and yellow plated brutox were entering the arena. They were shaped like wasps. Andy shuddered at the sight.

  His breath quickened as his eyes darted. Dozens of wasps. They’re making me fight so many.

  “A weapon!” Andy cried as Ziesqe walked away.

  He reached into his robes and pulled out the spiked container. He held it out by its chain for Andy to see.

  The wasps were circling and leveling their spears, while others held shields, providing coverage for their fellows wielding crossbows.

  Ziesqe stopped, turned, and took hold of the canister. He twisted the top apart and out came a large piece of the Argument.

  Andy felt his eyes flex. His muscles seemed to tense on their own and a strange sensation of excited anticipation made him feel almost giddy.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  The audience gasped, and a number rushed back from the front rows, as if afraid. The brutox saw the Argument and were unsure of what to do.

  Andy wasted no time in charging straight for the glowing orb. One of the smarter wasps pushed past its shield bearer and rushed at Andy, trying to cut him off from the Argument. It fired a bolt from its crossbow.

  The bolt whistled past Andy’s head. Andy leaned back and slid, hoping to pass under the wasp, but it dropped its weapon and grabbed him.

  Andy reached into the wasp’s quiver, grabbed a bolt, and stabbed the creature in its eye.

  Its grip released, Andy rolled to his feet, just in time to see a second wasp leaping through the air, its clawed hand outstretched for the Argument.

  No!

  The wasp didn’t even touch the Argument before there was a loud crack. The wasp was vaporized into a thin cloud.

  Andy rolled and grasped the Argument, more bolts flying by; one bounced off the Casque.

  The piece of Argument was so large that Andy couldn’t get his hand around it.

  How do I grasp it then? If I can’t grasp it, I can’t form the blade!

  Andy stood in shock for a moment, but the wasps were still fazed by the incineration of one of their own.

  I’ve got it!

  Andy held the Argument up to his eye.

  Chapter 8

  Mouse Country

  “What are you doing here?” Letty yelled at Dean and Emma.

  “We saw you leaving—and those strange kids—” Emma stammered.

  Letty stomped up to them, and plowed right over their explanations, “No—I don’t care; go back! Just turn around and walk out, right now!” Letty insisted, pushing them.

  “Letty—please,” Emma begged.

  Letty felt hands around her shoulders. Quill and Staza held her back.

  “Letty, you need to calm down,” Staza said. “I’ve never seen you act like this.”

  “No! It’s too dangerous for them.”

  “Look,” Dean interrupted, he was forceful at first, but successively quieter as Letty glowered him down. “I’m Andy’s friend too, and I bet this has something to do with him. We just want…”

  “How the hell could you two ever work together, anyway? I feel like I’m going insane here!” Letty moaned.

  �
�It wasn’t easy,” Emma answered. “But I’m your friend too. Whatever this is,” she cast her glance up at the chaotic ceiling, “we need to stay together—is this like a theme park?”

  Letty sighed, and pulled free from Quill and Staza. She turned around and shook her head. “So stupid.”

  “Greetings, and welcome to Pansubprimus,” Quill said diplomatically. “This is Staza, and my name is Quill.”

  “I’m Emma.”

  “And I’m Dean.”

  “I take it you two know Andy?” Quill asked.

  Dean nodded, but Emma spoke, “I know Andy, but I’m here for Letty.”

  “I’m not going back, Em!” Letty snapped. “I’m going to find Andy.”

  “Why? This place is weird—” she glanced at Quill and Staza, “no offense.”

  “You don’t know the half of it, but he saved my life. I can’t live with myself if I don’t find him.”

  Letty’s earnestness silenced the others.

  “If that’s how you feel, I’m going to come along,” Emma said.

  “So am I,” Dean concurred.

  “Look, you two are less than useless, you are literally dead weight.” Letty sighed and put her face in her palms before continuing, “What are you going to do, Em? What are you going to do when something tries to kill us? Are you going to curl up into a ball and cry? Of course you are! And you, Dean! I’d rather have a dozen Emmas over one of you! You’ll lose your glasses and cry about how bad the food is! You’ll try to argue with the first giant bug we meet.”

  Emma and Dean wilted under her tirade.

  “Do you see them?” Letty pointed at Quill and Staza. “They are from here; they were trained to fight from a young age. They are fearless killers; what are you—”

  Staza interrupted her, “Enough, you’re being cruel.”

  Emma looked like she was about to cry, while Dean’s face turned a new shade of red.

  “She’s right, you know. The Netherscape is dangerous all over, and Pansubprimus, or the part we’re currently standing in, is no different. If you come with us, you will see bloodshed,” Quill spoke stoically.

  Dean swallowed, and Emma’s face twisted with anxiety.

  “You said giant bugs?” Emma asked, “Like how giant?”

  “Wait till we see a ravager,” Staza said, sounding morbid.

  “A ravager?” Dean asked with a stammer.

  “Turn around, and go back,” Letty said softly.

  They both looked like they wanted to, but, somehow, neither did.

  Letty felt Staza’s hand on her shoulder. She relented and said, “Fine, do this to yourselves, but don’t slow us down.”

  Quill approached the newcomers. “Good news,” he said with a smile as he handed Dean one of his packs, “share the load, friends.”

  Staza handed a pack to Emma. “We’ll need to forage for extra provisions now, but more hands will be helpful. What weapons do you two carry?”

  Emma and Dean shared another fretful look.

  “Weapons?” Emma asked.

  “Are you a hand to hand fighter? There might be a use for that, especially since you look so helpless,” Staza mused.

  “Not really,” Emma said looking at her hands.

  Staza grabbed Emma’s hand and stared at it in disgust. “Soft and painted,” she said, before tossing it aside. She looked Dean up and down and shook her head.

  “Well, Andy didn’t look like much either,” Quill replied.

  “Let’s move,” Letty insisted, tired of wasting time. She headed toward the gates leading out of Sentinel’s Watch. Their disagreement ended, everyone followed along, though nothing had been settled.

  “Yes, Andy did surprise us,” Staza agreed with Quill, “but he was a Seer, and these two don’t have a touch of the violet.”

  “What does that mean?” Dean asked. “Does it have to do with Andy? I noticed that he had violet eyes the other day.”

  “So does Letty,” Quill said.

  “Really?” Emma said, pushing ahead and trying to get a look at Letty’s eyes.

  Annoyed, Letty pushed her away. “Yeah, they changed color. It’s what started everything,” she said.

  “We have them too,” Staza said. “Everyone in Caspia is a rescued Seer.”

  “What’s Caspia?”

  Letty groaned and picked up the pace.

  Hopefully I’ll tire them out so they stop with the questions.

  Quill and Staza answered as well as they could. Quill continually responded by saying, “We haven’t sent out an expedition in a while,” and Letty realized that their knowledge of the Netherscape was almost as limited as her own.

  Quill stopped them on a path surrounded by soft, rolling hills covered with blueish grass. He looked over his shoulder back at the mountains of Sentinel’s Watch.

  “So, we’ve been going Pacward. Now that we’ve cleared the mountains, we need to veer sur…” Quill scratched his chin and looked off towards the horizon. “Shame the ceiling is disordered. We won’t be able to navigate by it for weeks or more.”

  “What is he talking about?” Dean asked.

  Staza gave Dean a slight shove. “Quiet, he’s thinking.”

  “That way!” Quill said, pointing towards a stone tower. “I believe that guards what was the border between the Vychy and the O.O.”

  “Who?” Dean asked.

  “They are mice.”

  Emma made a scornful face. “Not the mice again, Letty.”

  “They’re real, dammit! Quill and Staza have seen them too.”

  The Caspians both nodded.

  “Either way, all you need to know is that the good mice were friendly with us, but now their city is destroyed—”

  “Most of them probably escaped,” Quill cut in.

  “Thank God,” Letty continued. “And the Vychy are bad mice, who will not be happy to see us.”

  “Why won’t they be happy to see us?” Dean asked.

  “It’s religious,” Letty said, not wanting to get into it.

  “And who cares? They’re just mice. What can they even do?” Emma joked.

  “They’re pretty resourceful,” Letty said.

  “As much as they are despised in Caspia, it must be said that they are warlike,” Quill muttered, his eyes still scanning the horizon.

  “Why do you despise them? And what is Caspia anyway?” Dean asked, nervously aware of how annoying his questions were becoming.

  “Our Mistress—she isn’t exactly fond of the mice,” Staza said.

  Dean’s questioning expression deepened, and he stared at Letty for an explanation.

  “Ugh. Caspia is like a school, only it has one of those annoying teachers who pretends to be like one of the students, but she’s really just a prissy dictator. I guess she dislikes the mice too,” Letty rushed through her explanation, and kept an eye on the tower they were approaching.

  Quill and Staza both stared wide-eyed at Letty.

  “What? It’s true.”

  “Shouldn’t we hide from the tower?” Emma asked.

  “The mice are capable of bursts of speed, but we’re much faster, given time. We should be able to cross their lands before they can get an army together to stop us. We’ll have to hide when it’s time to sleep, though. They could catch up with us as we rest,” Quill said.

  “It doesn’t sound like you’ve thought this through,” Letty said.

  “I’m sorry. I’m doing my best. We’ve never been out here before,” Quill said.

  “What do we do if they catch up with us?” Letty asked.

  “You have the Argument,” Staza replied.

  “I don’t want to kill any mice, even if they aren’t the friendly kind.”

  “Ow!” Dean cried out.

  Letty looked and saw a tiny needle stuck in his arm.

  “Cover your faces!” Quill yelled, taking off his pack and holding it up as a shield. “They’re shooting at us from the tower.”

  Letty did so, but felt a few pinpricks before she
finally raised her pack to shield her face.

  They rushed past the tower.

  “It’ll only be a moment,” Quill said, stifling another cry.

  “Humans are not welcome on these lands!” A shrill rallying call went up from the tower.

  A loud crack sounded out and Quill stumbled to the ground.

  Letty and Staza turned to help him back to his feet. A bolt stuck out of his thigh. It was about the size of pencil.

  “Damn ballista! It got me!”

  Quill stumbled along, wincing as he went. Emma and Dean were shocked and yammering, “What are we going to do?” and, “He’s wounded! We need to go back!”

  “We have minoe in one of these packs, it will heal this up in a flash,” Quill said, between jolts of pain. “The wound isn’t all that bad.”

  A loud pop, like a firecracker going off made Letty look back over her shoulder at the tower.

  “They fired a flare,” Staza said.

  “What does that mean?” Letty asked.

  “They might have reinforcements able to intercept us up ahead. We should get off the path, and hunker down to heal my leg. I’ll only slow us down until we do.”

  Quill was in too much pain to travel far. “Good idea,” Letty said. “Wait until the tower is so far behind that they can’t spot us leave the road.”

  Emma and Dean looked like they were regretting their decision.

  But they know it’s too late to go back now. Idiots.

  Letty and Staza held Quill upright so they could move faster.

  They kept up the pace until everyone was sweating.

  “The tower is out of sight,” Dean said, looking over his shoulder.

  “Over there, in the trees,” Quill sputtered, pointing to a growth far off one side of the road. On the other side, the landscape gave way to long, stretching fields and farms, though the tall orange wheat, or tuber filled vines, were often taller than the mouse-sized farmhouses that kept them.

  “We can’t see them, but the mice who run these farms can see us,” Staza said.

  “Or at least hear us. They’ve got sharp ears,” Letty said, thinking back to when she was with Titus and Taptalles.

  “That’s why—hiding in the trees—ugh,” Quill muttered between groans of pain.