by Sam Ryder
Belle’s sacrifice, I reminded myself. She’d been injured too, her leg slashed open by her own sword so we could escape the web pod. Her injury wasn’t minor. It would take weeks to heal naturally. Maybe longer. And that was if it didn’t get infected.
“Thank you, Belle,” I said, feeling suddenly alone. She’d gone from a woman I was afraid was too fragile for this place to the strong, independent person that had been locked inside her for too long. I missed her.
It was something I’d never admit to Beat or I’d never hear the end of it.
That’s when I noticed the sun was well past its peak, the shadows descending across the wasteland. Great, I thought. Time for another monster party. I scanned the area around me. Ursula’s Forest had ended a while back, giving way to more dry, rocky flatlands. I was an island in a sea of nothingness.
Yes, I was miles away from Annakor and the many monsters that called the mountains home, but as I’d learned in the forest, this world was a big place with dangers of all types. When the Black came, I would be a sitting duck.
I squinted, spotting something. I blinked and it disappeared, but the image remained in my mind. It had looked like water.
~~~
I understood the concept of mirages, which were common in the desert. I’d driven down desert highways before, straight and flat. I’d seen what appeared to be lakes on the blacktop in the distance, only to get closer and watch them disappear. A trick of the eye.
That’s what this was. Probably.
However, with the Black descending like a scythe, I made for the mirage at full speed, watching it come and go, flitting in and out of existence before my very eyes. It was the oddest thing. Sometimes I would see it and then it would vanish and I could see past it to the harsh terrain beyond. Which made no sense unless it was a mirage. If it was real, I would never be able to see through it. Right?
The fact that I even needed to ask the question meant I was finally growing accustomed to the utter strangeness of the planet of Tor.
The water reappeared again, and this time it stayed. With each heavy step I expected it to disappear once more, but it didn’t. I gauged the distance. A mile at the most now. I could make it before the Black. I didn’t know what I would do when I got there, but it was better than being out in the open.
That’s when the weirdest thing happened. I know what you’re thinking: Weirder than giant spiders? Weirder than a tribal orgy involving alien women and a twenty-foot tall giant named Buttplug? Weirder than…well, you get the picture. But yeah, this was the weirdest of all.
The silver sun stopped descending toward the horizon. I’m not joking. Not only did it stop, it reversed course, creeping slowly back up toward its apex. It was like how some places in Alaska get 24 hours of sunlight on certain days in the summer.
It was a miracle.
And yet all I felt was a strange sense of foreboding. I’d gotten used to the long days and the short but violent nights. It was one of the rules of this place. And now the rules were being broken and it had something to do with the mirage that was looking less and less like a mirage and more like a real lake in the middle of the desert.
Now that the sun’s path had reversed, the Silver time extended, I slowed my gait, approaching the body of water cautiously.
The water, which had looked as dark as spilled ink from afar, turned turquoise up close, as crystal clear as a Mexican cenote. It was like the waters off the coast of an island paradise, only without the island or the paradise.
Breathtaking.
That’s when I saw the boat.
Water lapped against its wooden sides as it rocked back and forth, the bottom grating against the smooth stones that made up the rocky shoreline.
Not creepy at all.
I half expected some craggy old man to appear, beckoning me with a single gnarled finger. Pay the price and I will carry you across. What’s the price? I would ask innocently. Just your soul. Mwa ha ha!
Thankfully, the man didn’t appear. But the boat was still there. It felt like an invitation. Or a challenge. And by challenge I mean trap.
Then again, what’s a Protector supposed to do? I’d come all this way for a reason, was I really going to wuss out now?
That, of course, didn’t mean I had to proceed recklessly. I inspected the boat, checking for leaks. Remarkably, it seemed intact, which didn’t make sense considering how long it might’ve been bobbing against the shoreline.
I was pretty sure it wasn’t a normal boat.
I had other options. I scanned the shoreline, which angled outward in either direction, broadening. The lake, which had appeared to be nothing more than a smallish pond from a distance, was so huge I couldn’t see the opposite side. Almost like an ocean.
Given what I’d learned thus far, I knew that was impossible. Persepheus had lost her saltwater kingdom years ago, the oceans of this planet drying up. So it was just a big ass lake. The biggest ass lake I’d ever seen, but still.
Walking around it would take forever.
I tossed a stone into the water, listening for the telltale hiss of acid. I smelled the surface—it was odorless. I dabbed a finger in. No burning sensation. No flesh-eating sea lice. Nothing. I tasted it. It tasted like water.
That didn’t mean a massive lake monster more formidable than the Nessie of Scottish lore wouldn’t launch itself from the water and swallow boat and man with a single bite. I risked it. I clambered into the boat, resting my hammer on an angle on one of the seats so I could grip the sides with both hands, careful not to take a tumble overboard as the boat rocked under my weight.
There were two oars in the oarlocks. I hadn’t seen them appear, but I was certain they hadn’t been there before.
I knew I should get the hell out and head back to camp.
I didn’t.
Because of the damaged ward shields. If I failed this mission, there might not be a camp in a few Blacks, regardless of how many new recruits Eve brought back.
I dipped the oars in the water and began to row. The motion felt good, especially since half of it was from the left side, where I hadn’t had an arm not so long ago. Sweat beaded on my forehead and trickled down my back and chest. The sun was hot, but I felt a welcome cool rising off the water. It was tempting to splash myself, but I didn’t want to disturb the surface more than I had to.
I focused on my breathing, settling into a rhythm: Pull, two three, four…lift and reverse direction. Repeat. I exhaled each time I pulled and breathed in as I reset to starting position.
All the while, the shoreline crept further away.
I was tempted to steer to one side or the other, hugging the shoreline like a bass master trolling for an award-winning fish. I fought off the urge, however, as an instinct was driving me toward the center of the massive body of water. Somehow, I knew it was there that I would find what I was looking for.
Two hours later the shoreline was gone, obliterated by a heavy mist that had descended from the sky to the water, clinging to the lake’s surface like a gray blanket.
Soon I couldn’t see more than a few feet in any direction. The water was no longer the tropical turquoise, transforming to the inky black I’d seen during my approach.
I felt more alone than ever. No, it was more than that. I felt an icy dread fill me, as if someone had poked cold fingers through my skin and was now probing around inside of me, freezing my blood.
I felt…lost. No. That was an understatement. I felt…I felt devastated. Images cycled through my mind, conjurations of my imagination but so real they felt like memories. I was standing on a field during the Black, the land around me empty of all but the dying embers of demonfires. Fires that technically weren’t supposed to die. But they did, until I couldn’t see anything but darkness. And then—
A light. A bronze glow on the horizon. My heart leapt. It was the feeling I’d experienced numerous times but which never got old. The end of the Black! A new day!
The light moved over the shadows, chasing
them away, illuminating the vast plains.
My heart stuck in my throat, along with my breath.
I was surrounded by bodies. Corpses. They were mangled and ravaged, but not to the point where I couldn’t make out their identities.
Belle, her red hair spilled around her like pooling blood.
Floot, her horn broken off.
Guz, his white fur matted down with blood and ichor.
Jak, his strong arms bent the wrong way.
Lace, facedown, her tail curled protectively around her body.
Millania, as quiet in death as she was in life.
And Beat, so peaceful-looking she might’ve been merely sleeping.
My eyes flooding with tears, I turned around slowly, the carnage eating at my soul as I took it all in. I spotted the hill leading to the gully, only it was obscured by the massive cracks running down the sides of the ward shield. Worse was the gaping breach large enough for a troll or dragon to pass through.
That’s when I heard the screams.
“No!” I said, back on the lake, jamming my hands against my ears to block out the noise. Of course, the screams were in my own head, so it didn’t help.
Instead, I slapped myself in the face, relishing the sting. I hit myself again. And again, the images fading with each blow. Next I bit the skin on my arm and the screams faded. I drew blood but didn’t care. Anything was better than what I’d seen, that possible future that might still come to pass. That might have already come to pass.
A drop of blood trembled along the edge of my wrist and then fell. Shit.
I tried to catch it but was too slow by half, the crimson drop splashing into the water. It should’ve pretty much disappeared instantaneously, mixing with the dark lake water and diluting.
It didn’t.
Instead, the drop of red went Biblical on me, spreading like a plague of blood on the Nile, turning the water scarlet as it went.
As I stared on, something bobbed to the surface, emerging from the bloody water.
At first just an eyeball, but then another, the entire face surfacing a moment later.
It was Beat, her face half-eaten, decomposing in the depths. As I watched, a slimy slug-like worm crawled from between her blue lips.
A gurgling cry slipped out of the back of my throat as I backpedaled to the opposite side of the boat, muttering, “It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real,” under my breath.
Something grabbed me from behind, a skinny hand with gray-green mottled flesh. I tried to wrench the hand from off my shoulder, but it was strong as hell, trying to drag me from the boat.
I twisted the opposite way, and for a moment I broke the hold, just long enough to turn and face my attacker.
It was Eve.
Her lips, which I’d wanted to kiss for so long, were a clown’s smile now, ripped at each end, tearing long red lines onto her cheeks. Her sly almond eyes were bulging, the area just beneath them dark with bruises. Her silky dark hair was a tangled mess, broken in parts.
I wanted to scream, but my breath eluded me.
Not real! I thought, acting on instinct alone, reaching out and grabbing the creature, which seemed to have the uncanny ability to reach into my memories and take everything and everyone precious to me and twist them like a knife to the gut.
The creature grabbed my shoulders and we strained against each other, grappling for the advantage. I was thrice her size, but it was a stalemate. If anything, she was winning, slowly bending me backwards into the boat.
Her deranged lips pressed in as if to plant the most horrific kiss of my life on my mouth (and that includes Stacy Chester in eighth grade, who’d kissed my ear and then whispered, ‘I want to have your babies.’).
I didn’t want to have Stacy Chester’s babies back then, and I most certainly didn’t want to have this freakish creature’s anything.
I reached within myself and shoved back as hard as I could.
The creature stumbled, the backs of its gray knees colliding with the side of the boat. She—it?—lost balance and tumbled overboard with a splash. I had the presence of mind to reach over the seat and grab my hammer, holding it steady with two hands as I waited for her to clamber, dripping bloody water, back onto the boat.
She didn’t.
I turned slowly in a full circle, watching the water for any signs of disturbance. Who knew how fast she could swim? Also, there could be dozens of the creatures for all I knew. Were these the Syrene? If so, they were why I was here, to get enough of the ward-repairing elixir Airiel had told me about.
The truth of my noble cause didn’t stop me from wanting to get the hell off the lake as fast as possible.
I stayed, breathing deeply, watching the water.
I stood like that for what felt like forever, until my fingers ached from gripping the heavy hammer.
Slowly, I sat on the bench, which groaned under my weight. I placed the hammer within arm’s reach. And then, once more, I began to row in the direction I thought was the center of the lake.
~~~
Somewhere along the way, the bloody water became just water again. That was good. That made me feel like no more of my friends’ corpses would pop up to scare me or attack me. After the altercation with the Eve-not-Eve creature-thing-monster, I knew I might never get a good night’s sleep again, but I couldn’t help that. All I could control was what I did next. I’d come all this way, fought giant scorpion-spiders, met a giant named Buttplug and his harem, and lost one of my Warriors. I needed to make it count for something.
If I returned emptyhanded I might as well not return at all.
Fuck that.
When the blood cleared from the water, the mist lifted too, leaving me bobbing on a lake that suddenly felt too cheerful. There was something else strange:
Both suns were out. The effect of the dueling silver and bronze rays was beautiful and surreal, almost like what you might expect the sky to look like before, during and after the apocalypse. Too bright and unnatural.
My exposed skin, which was already tanned from days spent under the watch of each of this planet’s suns, felt like it was burning.
Unfortunately, I was all out of sunscreen. I needed to find some shade or I’d end up burnt to a crisp. Inwardly, I wondered if the goddess spittle doubled as aloe vera.
I peered ahead across the water, squinting against the brightness. It really felt like I was in the middle of the ocean, surrounded by nothing but water and my own thoughts.
But then—
There! It was only an outline at first, like an artist’s first few lines, hinting at the masterpiece that was yet to come.
An island.
~~~
I’d watched movies where the characters ended up on an island after thinking they were going to die in the open water. They were always really excited, frolicking in the saltwater spray and hugging and stabbing coconuts to drink the sweet liquid. At first. Until the cannibalistic monkey-worshipping locals come to rip out their hearts while they’re still alive and sacrifice their still-bleeding internal organs to one of their statues.
So I kept my excitement in check, my senses on high alert as I approached the shoreline, scanning the thin copse of trees encroaching on the white sandy beach. Looking for movement. Seeing nothing.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t being watched by some hidden predator.
I steered the boat right up onto the beach because I didn’t want to step a single foot into the water. Here, the water was clear and I could see all the way to the sandy bottom, but that didn’t mean I was safe.
Wary, I collected my hammer and stepped onto the sand. It was warm and soft under my bare feet. I was never really a beach person, mostly because you generally wore swim trunks and little else while there, and I’d never really had the body for it. I had the body for it now, that was for damn sure, but that didn’t mean I wanted to build sandcastles and bury my feet in the sand.
Why, you might ask? Because sand sucks. There are all these adu
lt fantasies about having sex on the beach. Hell, there’s even a drink named after such a ridiculous notion. Me? I’d rather have sex on a bed of nails. Sand gets everywhere. It finds every nook and cranny, even ones you might not know you have. It’s gritty and causes chafing too. Yes, chafing. Think about that the next time you go to the beach.
Anyway, because of my unusual loathing of all things sand-related, I quickly made my way up the narrow stretch of beach, my eyes not leaving the trees. A gentle breeze blew, moving the branches from side to side and rustling the leaves. Everything about the scene was pleasant, which was so un-Tor-like I refused to trust it.
It gets better.
I found a delightful path through the woods. The cutest squirrel I’d ever laid eyes on scampered across in front of me, its bushy tail flicking from side to side. Somewhere in the trees above, birds chirped out a friendly melody. I passed pines and spruce, oaks and elms. Rosebushes, their buds just beginning to open to reveal lovely red, pink and white flowers.
It was like I’d just stepped through the looking glass, and we all know how things went for Alice and her so-called Wonderland.
This place, more so than even the freaky dead things impersonating my friends, made me want to run, row and/or swim for camp as fast as I could.
Which meant I was probably in the right place.
Just ahead, I saw the end of both the path and the forest, bright, unfiltered light reflecting off a rock that seemed to jut out into open air. I slowed my pace, eyes flicking from side to side and occasionally back to ensure I couldn’t be snuck up on. Nothing attacked.
I stepped onto the rock, shielding my eyes from the glare with a cupped hand.
Oh. My. Goddesses.
I’d just become the musclebound guy with zero acting ability in the bad porn flick where he gets lost in the woods only to stumble upon a sparkling pond inhabited by half a dozen gorgeous, scantily clad women.