“Well, that’s settled,” said Sandy awkwardly. “But how are we going to get him in?”
“We might be able to just tell the truth?” suggested Felicity.
“Naw,” said Dirk. “No way would they let a Fairy in. Not in a million years, except maybe to imprison it… and us.”
“I can do it,” said Damian. “It’s easy.”
A sudden cry came from behind them all. They spun around. Brixton was yelling, terrified, straining to get out of his bonds, as something enormous erupted behind him into the clearing. It was a large pink mound of wobbly flesh, with an enormous child-like head on top. The Giant was carrying a thick branch of hard-looking wood and had dark, furious-looking eyes.
With a massive sweep of its wobbly arm, it swept the thick branch at the tree right next to Brixton's head. There was an almighty crack and the tree splintered and bent. Brixton shouted more loudly than ever, but his screams were drowned out as the Giant gave an enormous roar and lunged at Pil and his friends.
It moved as if in slow motion, each gigantic thud of a thick leg produced a wave of wobbling fat that seemed to ripple upwards towards its beady head. Pil was captivated by the scene for only a moment before leaping into action. His sword was lying next to him on a nearby trunk, he drew it and turned to see three arrows whizzing through the air at the Giant. The Giant lifted a thick arm but the arrows merely bounced off his rolls of fat, leaving only tiny cuts in their place. The Giant threw its head back, roared again, and charged forward at Sandy.
Pil heard a yelp behind him and saw Sandy tripping frantically over his feet as he attempted to retreat backward and string another arrow. Damian steadied him with a firm arm and without a warning leapt lightly into the air, hauling a terrified-looking Sandy alongside. They glided on the wind backward, away from the oncoming Giant.
Pil jumped out of the way as the Giant thudded at the spot Sandy had been, swinging his club wildly around, knocking several tree stumps out of the way.
Pil had to do something. Felicity was unarmed behind them, and if the Giant turned and went for Brixton… He could not let that happen. Brixton was a terrible person, but he deserved the chance to fight for his life. Pil darted towards the three boys, all of whom were frantically straining against their bindings.
Brixton looked up to see Pil, blade in hand, charging their way and let out a screech of terror. Pil could have laughed, but the Giant had heard the shout and wobbly turned around to face them. Pil swore and swung his sword at Brixton, severing the rope around his chest. Brixton stopped mid-scream and looked up, baffled.
“Go — get out of it before I change my mind!” Pil yelled, turning to face the Giant. He heard a scrambling of feet as the three boys got up and ran headlong into the forest.
The Giant was now charging towards him, face set, club ready. Pil stood where he was. If the Giant was focused on him, his companions would be free to get away.
Pil stared it down, looking for any sign of an opening. But the thing was just far too large; he could see no way out of being mowed over by the enormous blob of pink fat.
Suddenly the Giant gave a massive yell as something flew out of the sky and attached itself to his back. Furious, the Giant swung his shoulder and Pil saw Damian clinging to the large rolls of skin with a knife that he had dug into its back.
The Giant shook him hard, its beady face scrunched in an irritated snarl, but Damian proved difficult to unseat. Whether because of his Fairy disposition, or the magical ability to become weightless, Pil did not know; but it could not last forever. Quickly as he could, Pil rushed in while the Giant was distracted and swiped furiously at its meaty leg.
Another roar rent through the air around them. Pil’s ears went deaf but he managed to dodge the thick arm that came crashing down at him in retaliation. Leaping lightly back from the rampaging mass, Pil saw the thick wound he had left on the Giants’ thigh. The cut was pouring out what looked like dark green blood, and the small round face of the Giant was now red with fury as it glared down at Pil.
It charged forward, mouth open in a furious roar; Damian bobbing along its back like a rag doll, momentarily forgotten. Pil was frozen in shock, there wasn’t time to do anything — he would surely be bulled over. But then, just as the jiggling giant raised its club to strike, mouth agape with rage, a flurry of small objects smashed into its face erupting in a purple mess.
The giant blinked around in confusion, its small eyes staring through a thick purple slime for the source of the attack. Disbelievingly, Pil looked around to see Brixton, Pheonix, and Raven standing at the edge of the clearing, several strange purple fruits in hand.
Pil turned in shock back to the giant, whose blind fury appeared to have been overcome with a fierce controlled rage. It raised an enormously thick hand and wiped the slime from its face, giving Damian the opportunity to pull his knife from its back and flip back into the air away from the quivering mass. The Giant seemed not to notice as the blade was removed and glared furiously down at Brixton, ready to pounce.
Surprisingly Brixton remained where he stood, staring haughtily up at the monster, even as his two identical friends shot him fearful glances. It was a tense moment which only broke as the Giant charged once again.
But this time something was wrong, after a short charge it faltered and then stumbled, weaving its way randomly around the field. It seemed highly confused with no clear idea of what it was doing, sometimes spinning around in circles and cautiously looking towards the sky as though it were going to fall. And then with sudden ferocity, it looked frantically at the sky, raising its arms protectively over its head and began to wail. The cry was long and drawn out, and the giant began hopping on the spot, the great thuds of its feet shaking the forest.
“What’s going on?” asked Felicity nervously as she ran up to Pil.
“I don’t know,” said Pil, confused, as he watched the Giant screaming and stomping around by itself. “It seems to have gone crazy.”
“It’s Holly Berry!” came a cry from Sandy as he and Damian landed next to them. Sandy was pale and sick-looking but his eyes were steady. “Brixton threw Holly Berry into its mouth — the purple things he threw — that was definitely Holly Berry.”
The giant was now spinning in very wobbly circles, emitting strange gurgling noises.
“Pil, what do we do?” asked Dirk from behind Felicity.
“Run while it’s distracted! Who knows how long the Berry will affect him!”
As the giant spun away from them they made their move. Pil led the way swiftly across the glade towards the spot where Brixton had disappeared back into the wood.
They ran, carefully picking their way, but when they were only halfway from the wall of trees the Giant’s head snapped around to them. It still looked confused, but now it looked angry too and — without warning — it charged full tilt at them, gargling strange sounds and weaving dangerously. Sandy gave a shout of terror and sped up until he was close behind Pil. They had just swept past the first trees when Pil heard a scream and a thud from behind him. He spun on the spot and saw the Giant looming over an immobile Felicity.
It looked as though he had swept her aside with a massive fist and was now raising his club to crush her. Pil was too far. Even Dirk, who had been behind Felicity, was too far to do anything. Pil reached for his sword, yelling indistinctly, but the club fell with a powerful force. It was inches away from crushing Felicity — when something strange happened.
A bright light erupted from Felicity’s chest. Flying from her heart, it zoomed up to meet the club even as it fell. There was a loud crack and a blinding light and the Giant was thrown back — his club having rebounded back and smacked him hard in the face. He staggered, dazed from the hit. A little bit of the light had hovered hazily in the air above Felicity, then it sunk slowly back down to her. As it reached her, it stopped and collected around her wrist, tightening like a string of light. Even as they watched, the light died down, and the object now wound around her wrist solidified into somethi
ng black.
At that moment, the Giant gave an enormous bellow, looking terrified around him — and quicker than his size suggested — he pelted off, dashing away from them back into the forest.
19
Found
“Fel!” Pil shouted when the giant had disappeared into the wood. He ran swiftly over to where she still lay, seemingly unconscious. Her breathing was shallow, and her face was swelling with a deep red bruise.
“Dirk help me!”
Dirk rushed over and together they carried her farther back into the protection of the forest, laying her back down on a bed of large leaves.
“Damian, go find Brixton — Dirk, take Sandy and grab our supplies,” said Pil, feeling Felicity’s pulse. “Be quick. We don’t know if it’ll come back.”
The other two were back in seconds, huffing under the strain of the bags. Dirk immediately began digging through his and pulled out several Merry Berries, a wooden bowl, and a droplet of water. Pil was grateful he didn’t have to tell him what to get. It seemed he had at least paid attention in medical reflection lessons.
Pil crushed the Berries in the bowl until it was a bright red pulp and pricked a hole in the droplet of water to add to the mix. He swirled the contents into a paste and gently applied it to Felicity’s face.
Merry Berry could heal almost any wound —it had to be ingested for internal ones — for external ones it had to be applied. Back in Westleton they would have added other minerals to the paste to help it work more efficiently, but in a bind, a mix of water and Berry would do the trick.
“Wow, that works quickly,” said Pil, awed, as the swelling in Felicity’s face died down immediately. Pil poured the rest of the water drop in her mouth and her breathing eased a bit.
“Will she be all right?” Sandy asked nervously, his face pale.
“Should be,” said Pil grimly. “A blow to the head should be dealt with a proper Merry mix, but it looks like it’s working all the same.”
“What was that thing, Pil?” Dirk asked.
Pil knew what he was referring to. “I don’t know,” he said, thinking of the bright-blue light and examining the metal black band around Felicity’s wrist. It was woven intricately and had a strange pure quality to it, a kind of craftsmanship that was unnatural.
“If I had to guess, I’d say it was magic of some kind.”
“Like Enlightenment?” asked Sandy fervently.
Pil shrugged. “I don’t know what Enlightenment looks like… But that would be a good bet. She is Prestige, after all.”
“Pil!” shouted Damian as he came up to meet them; he was being followed closely by Brixton’s group. “Is the girl alive?” he asked, examining Felicity’s lifeless body.
Pil flinched at his callous tone. “She will be fine —”
“Thanks to me,” cut in Brixton haughtily. “I didn’t hear a ‘thanks,’ Persins.”
“Why did you come back?” asked Pil coolly.
“You’ve got the supplies,” said Brixton a little too honestly. “And these two wouldn’t have been any help at all out here.”
Pheonix shot Brixton a short glare while Raven rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because you did a whole lot against those Fairy girls,” he said. Brixton ignored him.
“Do you really plan on trying to sneak this filthy floater in, Persins?” asked Brixton, glaring at Damian. “They’ll kill him if they find out — and you, too, if we are lucky.”
Pil ignored him. “We should get a move on,” said Pil, getting to his feet. “We’ve made enough noise to wake the whole forest.”
They went around and gathered the supplies. Pil was careful to keep an ear out for any other beasts. Felicity still hadn’t woken up, so Dirk put her on his back and gave his pack and hammer to Sandy. Sandy nearly fell over from the weight of it.
“Char, Dirk!” he cried, hefting it over to lean against a tree. “How can you carry that? It weighs a ton!”
Dirk looked at him, confused and walked over to it. “What are you talking about?” he said, raising the hammer up and over his head. “It’s the lightest hammer I’ve ever held.”
Sandy made a disbelieving noise and carried the last bag of supplies.
“How are you going to get home without Falon?” said Brixton suddenly, his arms crossed in dissatisfaction.
“I’ve no idea,” said Pil honestly, addressing Dirk and Sandy. “I think we should just strike out in the direction we were headed.
“It’s fine, Pil,” said Sandy shortly. “It’s the best we have. Hopefully, we will just need to get close to Westleton by nightfall; the search parties should be out.”
“What makes you think there will be search parties, Shackles?” Brixton scoffed.
“Felicity is a Prestige, Bells,” said Pil exasperated. “Even if no one will come for you — they will for her.”
Brixton looked outraged, but for once he said nothing.
“Let’s go,” said Pil, leading the way.
They followed obediently after him, traveling in silence for a short while. Pil felt exhausted; he had no idea what time of day it was, or how close to the night days they were. He needed a week’s worth of sleep, but for once Pil was not worried.
Perhaps it was because his group was now so large he felt more secure, or perhaps he had simply stopped caring what would happen. He thought maybe it was a bit of both. Whatever the case, he was able to enjoy the shade of the trees, to marvel again at the greenery and the life that existed in the outside world. So many different shades, so many sizes, all of them beautiful. It was a world of color like he had never seen before. All too soon this illusion was broken by Brixton Bells.
“Do you have any plans about anything at all, Pil?” he asked snidely a few minutes after they had lost themselves in the trees.
“About what in particular?” said Pil, managing to keep the irritation out of his voice. Brixton had saved their lives, but that was far away from repayment after all he had done.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe getting back to Westleton? Or what to do if we meet a Bahbeq? Or maybe even how to sneak your black-eyed floater back into Westleton?”
“And what sort of plans do you have, Bells?” Dirk growled, annoyed.
“I’ve been in captivity if you've forgotten," Brixton shot at him. “Had I been free, I would have been back days ago…”
“Maybe we should set you free, then?” said Sandy harshly.
Brixton scoffed. “I doubt it; you need my help as much as anyone’s, as I’ve already proved.”
Pil actually laughed at that. “How you manage to think so highly of yourself, I’ll never know.” He paused. “Be real with me for once, Bells, won’t you?”
Brixton laughed coolly. “I’m always real, Persins. Unlike you, I don’t pretend I’m something I’m not.”
Pil rolled his eyes. “Do you really think your father is not involved in all this?” There was a short pause. “No, I don’t.”
His tone was honest and annoyed.
“My father,” Brixton continued, “is a charred bonger — but he’s loyal.”
Pil was surprised to hear this. He had thought surely Brixton revered his father.
“Then it might have been Tiberius,” Pil admitted bitterly. He thought he had seen Tiberius die, seen the life drain from him. But then, Pil hardly knew what to believe anymore.
“It might’ve been,” said Brixton, unconcerned. “We’ll know soon enough, anyway.”
“Why’s that?” asked Sandy.
“Because, Shackles,” Brixton drawled dumbly, “whoever betrayed the squad wasn’t likely to go running off into the forest, were they? They did it for a reason — a promotion, or whatever — but the truth is, no Elfin alive wants to be stuck out here in the light.”
“It’s not so bad, really,” said Pil, looking around absently.
Dirk made a noise of disbelief. “Where have you been, Pil?”
Sandy laughed. “It’s a never-ending nightmare in here, that’s for sure.”
“He’s talking about the Bahbeq,” said Damian quietly. “They hunt your kind; you’d be dead by now if they were around.”
“I thought it seemed odd,” said Brixton, “how you bongers managed to survive so long on your own. The Bahbeq are gone, aren’t they?”
“Seems like it,” Pil admitted. “Only one we’ve seen is the dead one in the camp.”
“Maybe it’s because no Elfin have been out in the light in hundreds of years,” said Sandy hopefully. “Maybe they’ve left, or died.”
“Honestly, Shackles,” complained Brixton loudly. “How you got into the Exidite is a mystery to me. The Bahbeq don’t only eat Elfin, they just prefer us.”
“What else do they eat?” asked Dirk, confused.
“Anything of Fae,” said Damian shortly.
There was a long pause after this.
“Anything of what?” asked Pil when it finally seemed clear Damian had no intention to elaborate.
“Fae,” said Damian. “They don’t like Venor much.”
“What on Haven is that supposed to mean?” sneered Brixton.
“What on what?” asked Damian in return.
“Haven. Oh, come on, you do know where you live, don’t you?” said Brixton haughtily.
Damian looked confused and opened his mouth to reply when Pil cut him off.
“Shut up!” said Pil frantically, stopping suddenly. “Do you hear that?”
They all came to a halt and listened. There was a rustling. It was faint and off to their right, but it was there.
“You think it’s a monster?” whispered Sandy, frightened.
“No,” Pil whispered back. “Listen. It’s the sound of footfalls.” His eyes widened as he said it. There were people in Lungala, maybe even Elfin people. For the first time since they had come into the light, Pil felt hope, real hope, that they might survive.
“It sounds like footsteps,” said Dirk, dogging Pil’s thoughts.
“They came,” said Brixton, his mouth falling open in awe. “It’s the Exidite — they came!” He began to stumble off in the direction of the noise.
After the Dark Page 19