Cloudfyre Falling - A dark fairy tale

by A. L. Brooks

  And it were here that Hawkmoth frowned as a monstrous shape could be glimpsed some distance ahead in the gloom.

  The others saw it too now. And the party halted.

  ‘Be that the one of whom you speak?’ Gargaron asked Cahssi.

  ‘Aye, Slüv the Vanisher. Your passage to the Grass Sea.’

  4

  A monstrous demon toad, or a stunted, warted salamander. Gargaron could tell not. It were difficult to discern in the dark. But puffy it were, that much were clear, with fat bulbous limbs, a flabby neck, and its vast lumpy spine nudged the underside of the high canopy. Its enormous, gaping mouth hung ajar, with eyes half open. And there were a cloying stink to it like a million things rotting.

  Gargaron were not alone in wondering how this thing might possibly carry them to a point thousands of leagues away.

  Hawkmoth did not speak aloud his impressions. But Gargaron detected his words like whispers on a breeze: ‘A foul demon if ever I saw one!’

  ‘Take me to her,’ Cahssi asked of Gargaron.

  Gargaron tread forward slowly, this immense creature seeming to grow ever larger the closer he drew to it. How long it had sat here slumped in this stinking swamp, Gargaron could not guess, but it were evident the monster could move no longer, such were its crippling weight and bulk. Still, if Gargaron had not felt some sense of safety being in the company of Cahssi, he would have feared its tongue. The toads he’d known (though nowhere near as big) were adept at attacking with such sticky wet appendages, could suffocate, even strangle with them, could draw prey into their gaping mouths at the speed of a lightning strike.

  Still, Gargaron pressed forward, until Cahssi asked to be put on her feet. He did as requested, as if handling a frail doll, lightly, gingerly, carefully. She stood, swaying; he held her upright for a few moments so that she might gain her strength and balance.

  For a while she simply watched Gargaron. She held out her hand to him. He took it out of courtesy. And as he did he heard her voice in his thoughts once again. We are all children of Vhuda. My time on this world is up. But I give what remains of my life to Slüv, for a life force she must consume before she will send folk across distances. So hear me. I would not have helped you and your friends had you not been the earthchild.

  Gargaron blinked at her, confused.

  Aye, she said, as if he had protested, You be the earthchild. Soon the days will begin to run backwards. And from you, a new world will come. But you have work here first.

  Her words shook him. But before he could ask what she meant she turned to face the mountainous toad. She spoke a harsh hissing, gulping language at it. As she did she snatched a blade from what looked to be a sheath at her hip fashioned from hair, a blade that looked much like a beetle wing carved into the form of a short scimitar with an ebony-black hilt. She jabbed it at the top of her leg, puncturing her skin; bubbling, yellow blood, spat from her, and dripped into the marsh where the muddy water steamed and fizzed.

  The toad, Slüv the Vanisher, She Who Eats All, opened its vast mouth and burped out a hideous croak that seemed to shake the woodland around it. Its tongue shot forth, tasting Cahssi’s foul blood.

  ‘It is begun,’ Cahssi said, falling to her knees. ‘She will take me now, and she will deliver you to Rith Gartha, the shores of the Grass Sea.’

  Gargaron and his companions frowned.

  ‘Take down this blight if you can,’ Cahssi said to them.

  And an instant later Slüv’s tongue flicked out once more… and took the witch into its throat.

  Melai gasped, thinking something had gone wrong, that she and her friends would be swallowed now into this repulsive creature.

  A cord of white light waved over Slüv, like strings of molten silver. More followed. So bright they were that Gargaron could see nothing now beyond them. He called out to his companions. Though he could not hear his own voice. He felt something wrap itself around him. Wet and hot and sticky. The toad’s tongue, he feared. He could see nothing, so bright were the light. He were being lifted from his feet and felt himself being drawn into the creature’s mouth…

  RITH GARTHA

  1

  GARGARON were not certain, but he felt he had been asleep. Or at least had experienced a period of time where he’d possessed no conscious thought. Then he sensed light, and felt air so fresh and clean, and next he knew he were being vomited and burped from the mouth of some immense creature.

  He poured out over its fat puffy lips onto weed and gravel. Along with mucous and spit, Melai flowed out behind him, followed by Locke; Hawkmoth and the serpent were out last together.

  They groaned and moaned and Locke laughed and the serpent hissed, backing up from the toad, rearing up and lashing out at it. Locke lying there, wiping toad phlegm from his face ordered the serpent to stand down, lest it become toad food. Zebra obeyed, slithering off angrily.

  Slowly the others found their feet, slipping, sliding about in the muck, scraping toad spit from their persons, ringing it from their clothes. They edged back from Slüv’s gaping maw and it watched them dumbly with its puffy, idiot eyes. Bands of light began to circle and snap about it. Everyone backed up. Moments later the toad were engulfed in burning white light… and then it suddenly ceased to be there. What remained in its wake were balls of swirling light and a trillion tiny stars floating like water vapour.

  2

  For a while there were naught but stunned silence. Gargaron and Melai, Hawkmoth and Locke, stood there beneath a cloud blotched sky, dripping smelly toad spit, blinking it from their eyes, raking it out of their hair.

  ‘By Ehl Nori Goddess of the Sea,’ Locke said almost breathlessly, shaking thick gobbets of toad spit from his horns. ‘What marvel just befell us all?’

  ‘Have we been transported?’ Melai said, looking about.

  ‘Aye, we have,’ Hawkmoth answered her. ‘It be arcane transference. I, my Order, and all sorcerers have long speculated on how the witches possess the ability to suddenly appear then vanish without trace.’ He grinned. ‘Now I know.’

  They turned to take in their surroundings and their eyes caught sight of the Grass Sea. At a glance it looked like any other ocean. Except it were green in colour and there were something alien about the movement of its waves. Even Melai thought this, she who had never seen the natural ocean in her life. There were no white breakers. No sea spray. No large swells. These things had been common too on the lagoons of Thoonsk. They seemed not to exist out there. Though one thing this sea did have in common with other seas: it were vast and unending and stretched out to horizon and beyond.

  None, as far as Hawkmoth knew, had ever crossed it to the mysterious islands that lay within. And none could swim upon it. The Grass Sea were not like water, buoyant objects did not float here. Everything sunk to its depths that some claimed were a hundred leagues down in parts. Those who fell in, fell and fell and stayed there, joining the dead who it were said walked its darkened seafloor and you could hear their howls on the high winds and if you were not careful they would reach up and drag you down. None could fly over it either, for some inexplicable force drew all flying contraptions and all birds down to it eventually, claiming all.

  Some said the fabled city of Xanaathii lay out there somewhere, swallowed—some said a hundred leagues down, others said deeper. No fish swam this ocean. No whale. But monsters lurked at the bottom nonetheless, mindless things, who it was said would reach up and prong your feet with razored talons and drag you down.

  Of their group, only Hawkmoth had ever lain eyes on this particular ocean. Of their group, none but he had ever been this far across the continent. Not even Gargaron who were well travelled.

  ‘How far have we come?’ Melai asked.

  With one last look to see that the toad had indeed truly gone, Hawkmoth began to wander toward the shoreline. ‘Were I to walk home from here,’ he said, ‘I estimate I’d be gone more than four months.’ Near the shoreline he stopped, his robes fluttering on a gentle wind. ‘Wow, I have q
uite forgotten how immense it is.’

  ‘You have been here before then?’ Melai asked.

  ‘Aye, many years gone now. One of our initiation rites took place here. We would be tethered to a rope, a rope that were in turn tied to a tree or some other rigid shore based structure. We would then have to venture out into the grass waves. Walk the alien floor. Submerged. It were meant to conquer your fears but it sent many a young sorcerer insane. Have none of you been this far?’

  Melai shook her head. Locke simply grinned. ‘Good sorcerer,’ he said, ‘if I’m to visit an ocean then I prefer it to be filled with water.’

  Gargaron were still contemplating the spot where Slüv the monstrous toad had sat, still hearing the strange words of Cahssi echoing faintly through his mind. Though he were not even certain what she had said. Except for one thing: You have work here first.

  ‘What say you, giant?’ Locke called back to him. ‘I dare say you’d prefer water over grass!’

  But Gargaron, feeling spooked, did not hear him.

  3

  Southways, beyond low hills, there were deserts that stretched for thousands of leagues in any direction. Parched wastelands of sand and rock as hot as fire. As far as Hawkmoth knew, this Grass Sea were surrounded by these deserts. Yet, there were folk who lived here, Hawkmoth knew. Or at least had. A number of villages were situated along the shoreline; all inhabited by reptilian-skinned folk, folk with lizard eyes and forked tongues, and claws where most folk had fingers. They had found ways to traverse this peculiar ocean. A species of giant turtle inhabited this realm. And their shells, dug out and hollowed, were all that floated upon these grass waves.

  Hawkmoth explained as much to his companions as they stood there gazing out across the vast expanse. There were a desolate sense to their surroundings. As if they had reached the ends of their world. It concerned Melai that this vast “sea” were their next barrier. ‘What lies out there?’ she asked, trying to conceal her trepidation.

  ‘I’m not certain anyone really knows,’ Hawkmoth said. ‘Mysterious islands. Unmapped lands. But somewhere out there beyond the horizon lies our destination.’

  Melai had grown accustomed somewhat to the realms beyond Thoonsk, their open spaces. But mostly what they had in common with her woodland home were trees, vegetation, pockets of water such as rivers or ponds. Out there she saw no trees, nothing beneath which she might retreat and shut her eyes and listen to the wind through leaves and pretend she were safe beneath her willow tree.

  It were obvious that there were no such turtle shelled vessels to be seen on this section of shoreline. So Hawkmoth took up his spyglass and fixed it firstly westways, where he saw naught but barren coastline and a pod of dead turtles floating about jagged rocks. When he turned his spyglass eastways his eyes narrowed. ‘A settlement I see.’

  He studied it for a while. Hoping he might spot some sign of life, habitation. But sadly there were none.

  ‘Be it Rith Gartha of which Cahssi spoke?’ Gargaron asked.

  Hawkmoth put his spyglass away. ‘We shall not know till we take ourselves to it. Come, let us set off.’

  4

  The settlement were abandoned. No inhabitants, no rotting carcasses, no bones of any kind. Nothing remained but wind blasted huts made of grass-mud bricks. There were close to two dozen such dwellings spread out along the shore line. At rear of village there were something of a boat yard where enormous turtle shells lay piled about, some left in varying states of being scissored up, used to fashion boat hulls. Here a dirt road lead away to the hills and perhaps it crossed the deserts beyond to take cured turtle meat to distant markets. A number of masts poked from the flat roofs of some village huts, hung with tattered sails that flapped and whipped in the wind. There were even something of a lighthouse, a tall mud brick construction perhaps to lead ships home on a dark and stormy night.

  The shoreline on the village’s “waterfront” rose up from the surface of the Grass Sea in stunted cliffs several feet high; stunted trees grew from them, leaning out over the grass waves, roots twisted and exposed. A jetty that looked to be built from turtle shell jutted from the shore line and moored to it were a number of turtle-shelled vessels of varying size. Some were small coracles. But there were a couple of larger vessels. A clipper, damaged, half of it sunk, its nose poking toward the sky. And a carrack.

  ‘I think we may have found our transport,’ Hawkmoth announced, gazing out at it.

  Melai studied the ship. It were a large craft, with spacious decks and a tall central mast, its sails currently unfurled. There were the figurehead of a fearsome frilled lizard poking out from the long prow. Yet, although she were from a watery realm, Melai knew nothing of seafaring vessels. The idea of being out there at the whim of this Grass Sea brought her more consternation. ‘What about the Boom shakes?’ she asked. ‘I don’t much like the idea of being stuck out there having to ride out a Boom shake in that vessel?’

  Hawkmoth sighed. ‘We must be resigned to the fact that we have no other choice, dear wood nymph. We must trust in our endeavour to sail this ship through whatever the crossing throws at us.’

  Melai eyed him. ‘And who, of us, knows how to sail such a thing?’

  There were a pause. And eyes turned to the crabman.

  ‘Not sure why you lot search me,’ Locke said with a humoured smile.

  ‘You be from the sea,’ Melai said.

  ‘Aye, that I am but how many fish have you ever seen traveling by boat?’ he put to them. And received naught but blank stares. He sighed. ‘For those of us who are just at home beneath water as on land, well, I barely see the point of waterborne craft. Although, this Grass Sea may prove the exception, of course.’

  ‘I have had some experience,’ Gargaron spoke up.

  All eyes turned to the giant.

  ‘My father and I sailed the Greenbanks off and on when I were younger,’ he told them. ‘Perhaps those skills might come back to me once we set sail.’

  ‘Right then,’ Locke said clapping his hands together and rubbing them back and forth vigorously, ‘here be our captain.’

  ‘I stress though that I do not bring to it a wealth of experience.’

  ‘Well, I have some rudimentary knowledge of sailing from text books,’ Hawkmoth said. ‘So perhaps we might simply combine our knowledge.’

  ‘That settles it then,’ Locke said. ‘Now, before we set out, what say we gather some provisions?’ And with belly rumbling the crabman wandered off.

  5

  They found a small building that had a sign reading Oswetqa’s Cured Meats. Inside they found racks of jerky. And not just turtle meat Locke were happy to point out, but cured lizard, giraffe, dog and harpy.

  ‘Pack what we can,’ Hawkmoth said. ‘Impossible to know how long our crossing will take. But we needn’t starve.’

  ‘Not a green in sight,’ Melai observed.

  ‘Ah, but who needs greens when we have salted harpy?’ Locke said cheerfully as if salted harpy were the be all and end all.

  Melai would happily settle for the growing plants inside her pack, their fruits and fungus, their flowers and their sap.

  They found sealed flagons of ale and some strange juice derived from sea grass. As much of it as they could they carried down the mud-brick stairs cut into the shallow cliffs and out across the jetty.

  It were an unsettling thing being now so near the ocean’s edge, with its strange haunting whispers close on either side. Gargaron could not help thinking of Hawkmoth’s strange tales: the dead who roamed the bottom of this sea who would rise up and grab the unsuspecting and haul them in. His arms were full of provisions so he would have had a task reaching for his sword at a moment’s notice.

  But to his relief, while there were whispers from the grass, naught surfaced to bother them.

  The gangplank to the carrack were lost it appeared, perhaps fallen and sunk, or if it were hewn from turtle hide, perhaps it had dislodged and floated away. Gargaron placed his wares on the jetty, took ho
ld of the mooring rope and hauled the ship into dock. He held it firm while Hawkmoth climbed aboard. Here Hawkmoth scanned the decks, making sure the ship bore the signs that it were indeed abandoned, at least above decks, before taking on the wares as Locke threw them up to him.

  Melai flew high but landed heavily on deck.

  Hawkmoth were quick to help her back to her feet. ‘Be mindful, child, flying things and this peculiar ocean do not mix well.’ The look on her face as she accepted the sorcerer’s hand were one of rude shock, even fear. That even she would sink here in this sea if she were not careful.

  Locke heeled his serpent and Zebra hissed and slithered aboard. Finally Gargaron called out, ‘Be we set to sail?’

  ‘Aye,’ came Hawkmoth’s reply.

  Gargaron unhitched the mooring rope and scrambled up the side of the boat as it listed away from the jetty. He had no need to remind himself that this were the Grass Sea, if you fell in, then that were it, if no-one threw you a line, if you could not grab one that was thrown to you, then you sank. It were a constant fear in his thoughts.

  There were a nervous moment when his hand slipped and he were but suspended there from gunwale with naught but his fingers preventing his fall. And with it a most disconcerting feeling as his legs dangled freely into the surface of the grass, and an unsettling sensation, whether he were simply imagining it or not, of the grass curling up about his boots, beckoning him, tugging him downwards. Hawkmoth grabbed his loose arm, Locke too, and together they managed to get the giant aboard.

  Gargaron had broken out in quite a sweat by the time he stood there on deck, gazing overboard, down at the waving, hissing grass. Sighing, he straightened and looked around at the others. It had been a close call. None wanted to admit it. Except Melai regarded Gargaron with a look that said, ‘You have to be more careful than that.’