Raven Rise

JOURNAL#35
(CONTINUED)
DENDURON

Allaround us the vicious bears that had been hibernating under the snow were coming to life. We were nowhere near the gate to the flume. There was nothing around us for protection. We were in the middle of a pack of quigs, who weren’t happy about having been rudely awakened from their slumber.

As the first quig rose up out of the snow, our horse panicked and reared.

“Whoa, whoa!” I shouted, as if that would do any good. The poor horse was terrified. I didn’t blame him. All around us, quigs erupted from below. It was all I could do to stay on the horse and control it. Control? Not exactly. It was more like desperately holding on to the reins to keep from falling off. Alder had nothing to hold on to but me. The horse brought its front legs back down and turned to run, only to be faced by another quig that had appeared behind us. I pulled with every bit of strength I had, just to keep the horse from bolting.

“Take the reins!” I shouted to Alder.

He reached around me and grabbed on to the leather straps.

“I have it,” he shouted.

I ducked under Alder’s outstretched arms and dove off the animal.

“Pendragon?” Alder yelled with surprise.

“Keep it still,” I ordered.

I knew we had only one chance. If the horse took off, we’d have no chance. Alder wrestled with the animal, who was spinning and bucking like a wild mustang. Its eyes flared. It must have seen what I saw: The closest quig had zeroed in on us. If it’s possible for an animal to look angry, this beastie was there.

“Get up here!” Alder commanded.

I ignored him. There was no way we could outrun a charging quig on that horse. We had to make a stand.

“Keep it still!” I shouted again.

Alder struggled to keep the horse in place. The horse was winning. That didn’t stop Alder from trying. He tugged on the reins, forcing the horse’s head down. He would only be able to keep it still for a little while longer. I hoped it would be enough.

The quig huffed and stalked toward us. Stalking was good. Better than charging. If the quig ran to attack, we’d have been done, because I wasn’t ready yet. The other quigs circled behind it. I guess there’s some kind of honor among quigs. Closest to the prize gets the first nibble. Unlike the quig I had fought in the flume cave, this guy was big. Bigger than any quig I’d ever seen. It was like the T. rex of quigs. Maybe that was why the others let it have first dibs on the prey.

“Pendragon?” Alder called again, his voice cracking, which for him was the same as a totally panicked breakdown.

“It’s okay. Let him come,” I said.

“I do not believe I have a choice.”

“We need him closer.”

“Any closer and I will feel its breath.”

The horse bucked, hit my shoulder, and knocked me back. I stumbled, but didn’t fall. There was no time for that. I quickly leaped back at the horse, grabbing for the leather bag that was attached to the saddle. The bag with the tak brick. The horse was between me and the advancing quig.

“I’m only going to get one shot, maybe two,” I said. “When I say so, rear up.”

“If I can.”

“You have to,” I said firmly.

I pulled out the small brick of tak and tore it in two. Putting one half under my arm, I formed the other half like a snowball. I quickly shifted hands and formed the other tak ball.

The quig roared and stood up on its hind legs. It was getting ready for the kill.

“Pendragon?” Alder called again nervously. “Not yet,” I cautioned.

The quig’s eyes flashed yellow. Hunger was all that mattered to him. As soon as its front paws landed back on the snow, it charged. It had decided that we posed no threat. He was wrong.

“Now!” I shouted.

Alder pulled back on the reins with a grunt. The horse whinnied and reared up, lifting its front hooves into the sky, giving me a clear shot. The quig was maybe fifteen yards away and closing fast. I heaved the tak ball sidearm, for fear I might hit the horse. The ball flew square at the quig’s head…and exploded on contact.

I was blown off my feet. It was like being hit with a wall of hot bricks. I landed hard on the snow. The horse landed right next to me. The only thought I had was to protect the second tak ball. If that was slammed too hard, there would be a second explosion. Closer than the first. Too close. I cradled it next to my stomach as if it were a precious egg. Or a high explosive. I didn’t know where Alder was. I couldn’t hear anything except the ringing in my ears from the explosion. It started to rain, only the rain was traveling sideways. And it was too cold to rain. I soon realized the truth. I was being pelted by wet bits of quig. Chunks of flesh and fur and blood flew everywhere. A hunk of bone flew past. A tooth skidded across the snow. If I hadn’t been so dazed, I probably would have retched. Through the smoke and snow and flying gore, I saw Alder lying a few yards from me. I scrambled over quickly and rolled him onto his back.

His eyes were open, but unfocused.

“Hey!” I shouted, shaking his head.

Alder blinked, coughed, and met my gaze.

“I believe the correct word is…’wow,’” he said with wide eyes.

I had to laugh. Nothing bothered this guy.

We weren’t out of danger. There were other quigs lurking around. I looked back to where I had hit the lead quig and saw exactly what I’d hoped to see. There was nothing left of the quig but a huge chunk of blood and bone. I made out a couple of furry masses that were probably paws. The rest was scattered across the snow. The red snow. More important, the other quigs took the bait. Or the lunch. They didn’t care about us anymore. There were good eats to be had. They climbed over one another to get a piece of their exploded pal. One would grab on to a piece of flesh and pull away, only to have another quig bite the same piece and wrestle for the prize. Yeah, disgusting. I hate quigs.

The horse was long gone. The trail of hoof prints in the snow showed that he had decided not to make the rest of the trip with us and had run for home. Iguess he’d had his fill of being a Traveler.

“We have to go the rest of the way on foot,” I said. “Can you walk?”

Alder’s answer was to stagger to his feet. The guy stood up tall over me. He had to be at least six-four. He was a heck of a sight, standing there in his blood-spattered leathers.

“I am looking forward to being somewhere else.”

The two of us staggered away from the carnage, headed for the top of the mountain and the flume. It took another half hour of trudging through the snow until we saw the rocky cave. I’m happy to say that there were no quig spines poking out from the snow. They were off having a bite to eat. We were nearly at the cave when Alder put his hand out to stop me.

“Look,” he said.

Bright light flared from inside the cave. We both knew that meant only one thing. We sprinted the last few yards and ran inside in time to see the light disappearing into the depths of the flume, along with the musical notes. Between us and the tunnel was the white skeleton of a quig. Two of the dado weapons I had used to kill it were still jutting out from the bones, right where I’d left them. The quig looked as if he had been picked clean by his pals. Gross. But the quig skeleton isn’t what held our attention. Alder and I stood staring at something beyond. Something in the flume.

On the rocky bottom, just inside the mouth, was a body. We stood stock still, waiting for the guy to move. He didn’t.

“He may be dead,” Alder said.

The body groaned. He wasn’t dead. But he looked hurt. We ran for him. I got there first and rolled the guy over.

“Patrick!” I shouted.

“Who?”

“The Traveler from Third Earth.”

My hand was under his back. I felt something I didn’t like and quickly pulled my hand back to see it was covered with blood. Fresh blood. Patrick’s blood. Alder and I exchanged looks. We knew what to do. We both put our hands on the Traveler. I slid my bloody hand under his back, to where I thought the wound was, and held my other hand over his heart. Alder rested both his hands on Patrick’s chest. I didn’t know the exact procedure, other than to concentrate on willing Patrick to heal. Alder’s eyes were closed. I closed mine as well. I thought of Patrick the way he was on Third Earth. Smart, quick, and maybe a little neurotic. I pictured his face and the way he moved. I tried to imagine his voice.

My hands felt warm. Both of them. It wasn’t painful or anything. It was a strange feeling, but also kind of comforting. We were Travelers. All three of us. We were brothers. We were part of something bigger that we had yet to uncover. Of all the things that were still unknown, still a mystery, still maddeningly elusive, there was one thing that I had total confidence in.

We could save one another.

The warm feeling became a tingle that spread up my arms and through my body. I opened my eyes and stole a look at Alder to see a small smile on his face. He was feeling the same thing. The event lasted only a few seconds. I looked down at our Traveler friend.

“Patrick?” I said softly. “You there?”

Patrick’s eyelids fluttered. He gasped, as if refilling his lungs with air. Slowly his eyes opened. He glanced around in confusion until he focused on me.

“Pendragon?” he croaked.

“Do you know where you are?” I asked.

“Denduron?”

I nodded. “Why did you come here, Patrick? What happened?”

“I… I was shot,” he gasped. He hadn’t fully focused. He was still trying to get his bearings.

“By who? Who shot you?”

“People who worked for the Traveler,” was his strange answer.

I looked to Alder. Alder scowled.

“What Traveler?” I asked quickly.

Patrick grasped my hand and whispered, “The new Traveler from Second Earth.”

I was rocked back on my heels. Nothing could have prepared me for that. In three seconds my mind raced to a million possibilities and a million dead ends.

“Pendragon?” Alder said calmly.

I looked to him, hoping he had an answer. He did. He may not have known what was happening, or what the news from Patrick meant, but he knew exactly what had to be done.

“I believe we are no longer going to Third Earth,” he declared.

“No, we’re not,” I said, getting my wits back. “I’m going home.”

END OF JOURNAL#35