Authors: R.V. Johnson
PONDEROUS MOUNTAIN
The heat on Jade’s cheek and the light leaking in under her eyelids informed her the auto tint adjust for the window had drifted out of calibration again. Crystalyn would be mad at her for not checking the solar sensor battery before going to sleep.
Filled with trepidation, Jade opened her eyes. The blazing light of midday stabbed her vision. Bright spots danced before her eyes. She blinked and rolled on her side. Harsh, brown shrubs sprang into focus, growing reluctantly through sickly, gray-colored sand. Two legs and feet the color and look of tree branches, stepped into view, halting beside her head. For a moment, she was frightened until she recalled whose they were. Jade sat up. Burl’s yellow-orange eyes gazed at her dispassionately. Going with an impulse, Jade clasped the raggedy man’s wrist, and pulled herself upright, feeling the bark-like texture of his skin. Burl never budged from her unexpected added weight.
How strong was he?
Camoe stepped from behind some enormous dark-gray rocks surrounding them. “Good. You’re finally awake. You had me concerned.”
Jade glanced around. A boulder big enough to flatten her dad’s hover cycle lay at the base of the cliff face, marking their exit route. Well, perhaps ‘cliff’ and ‘face’ weren’t the exact words she wanted. Tilting her head back, she gazed upward until falling over was a real danger. Dark, ponderous mountain was apt. It was a wonder such a thing had allowed them to escape. The mountain brooded overhead with a palpable sense of malice exuding a presence so strong, she was afraid it was going to somehow reach out and pull her back inside. The sight of it should be enough to turn away most, with its ominous, foreboding of danger.
Lest its brooding swallow her, Jade turned her back on the forbidding stone, suppressing a shudder. She never wanted to look at it again. “I feel much stronger, thanks to you both.”
“You will feel stronger once you have eaten,” Camoe assured her. He handed her a bowl of soup, two slices of bread, and a water flask.
A pleasant aroma wafted from the soup. Parched, she took a long pull from the damp flask first, pleasantly surprised at the chilled temperature. Her benefactor must have discovered fresh water from somewhere nearby. A glance at the soup revealed unknown sprouts mixed with carrots and potatoes. Tentatively, she dipped a small portion of her bread into the tin bowl and tried it. The sprouts gave it a satisfying, robust flavor, bringing to mind a delicious protein cube. Before she knew it, her spoon was scraping the bottom. “Oh, that was very good! What are those sprouts you used?”
“They are called meat sprouts, since they have a similar flavor. But I did not make it.” He glanced sidelong in Burl’s direction.
Her mute friend was busy packing her and Camoe’s bag, utilizing a waist-high rock, flat on top. Not only was Burl a huge help, but he seemed able to perform tasks with relative intelligence. “Do you know where we are?” she asked the druid.
Camoe shook his head, his blue eyes wide. “I think we have somehow crawled out of the southern end of the Dark Citadel. Until now, I would not have thought there was anything but this ugly gray rock on this side. No one, in my order knew of way in or out of the Citadel here, not even the most traveled. There have been many who sacrificed a lifetime studying the citadel’s defenses, searching for some small chink in its dark stone. They have never looked behind this boulder field, it seems. Of course, if they did happen to trudge by, the opening is small enough it would not have garnered a second glance.”
Jade slung the water flask over her shoulder along with her bag. “Why bother searching? A place this size must have a large front door somewhere. Surely, someone could muster enough troops to take it by force. Why not storm the main entrance?”
Camoe’s icy blue eyes stared at her, stretching the moment into two. “Do not think there has not been an attempt. This age—along with some that passed before—has seen many attempts to cull the dark threat. Permit me a brief description of the most recent. The Dark Users swarmed from the Dark Citadel pushing their slaves before them and whipping their Dark Creation creatures frenzy high. The allied armies of the White Lands withstood the hordes of darkness this time, even pushing them back to their stronghold, back to the Dark Gate. There, they fled inside and the great gate closed behind them. The allied armies could only hurl their magic at the great gate to which it stood, dark, powerful, and scarcely marked. Terrible, flying Creations disgorged from the cliffs above then. While battling those evil things, burning oil, catapulted boulders, and barbed cross bolts as thick as poles flew from the cliff face. A multitude of dark flame balls, funnel cones, and acidic rain conjured by the Dark Users to name a few, harrowed the armies from above them. The allied armies folded, unable to maintain a siege for long with those conditions. The cost was too high. Eventually the commanders realized the futility of it and broke off to return home in defeat, but at least Astura had peace for a time.
“But that’s what I mean. Why let them regroup and destroy your world? Take their base and they won’t be able to come at you again, infiltrate it first if you must.”
“I was able to infiltrate the Dark Citadel by the pretense of paying homage to their
Great Lord
, but it wouldn’t work for a large group. Someone would surely give them away. As it was, I have spent years convincing them theirs is the greater power, training their elite with advanced sword and warfare tactics while discreetly dispatching some of their promising young magic users. I have shown the enemy a greater service than I care to admit, I have sworn service to their Great Lord, I am bound to serve as long as he lives, but it was necessary to convince them of my loyalty. Many have thought as you throughout the ages. Some have even tried a frontal assault or infiltration. All have failed. Come, I shall let you see for yourself. I know a place where you can view the grand west entrance into that blasted dark hole in the rock.” Slipping around a rock shaped like a giant stairway, Camoe vanished into a thicket of stunted trees.
Stunted yes, but trees all the same,
living
trees. Jade hesitated, gazing in reverence. It didn’t matter if they served no purpose other than fuel wood, or shade, or supplied precious oxygen. The trees were so majestic to her, at any size. She recalled the time dad showed her and Crystalyn the first fruit trees and vegetable gardens preserved under the dome of the Farm, back when she’d barely been old enough to speak.
The fruit trees had been the beginning research for the citrus and nutrients. If it weren’t for the trees and plants, the Farm wouldn’t have been able to synthetically manufacture them and stave off the palsy. The King’s Administration now provided the daily requirements in a capsule if one had the credits to buy it. Diminutive fields sown for certain vegetables too stubborn to synthesize on Mid Realm and above yes, but there was no place for trees, only those that had been grown to give up their secrets. Gazing at the living wall made her realize just how great a loss it was.
A moment of searching revealed the obscure animal trail Camoe used. Ducking under a branch, she caught sight of a boot heel. He must have waited for her. She hurried to catch up, her feet crunching on the dryer twigs. The boot halted. Camoe waited in silence until she clomped up beside him.
“We are still striving for silence, Jade. Your created friend does not do too badly and it cannot bend at the knee,” Camoe said as soon as she drew near. “Your legs work like they should, yet birds are taking flight for leagues.”
“I don’t know how to be quieter.”
Camoe sighed. “I thought you would say that. You were louder than I liked underground, but there was no help for it. I suppose I should begin your training. First lesson—watch where I step from now on; second, put your foot down from toe to heel, like this. Let your toes take the weight as you roll your foot to the heel so that most of your foot never touches the ground at the same time. Do it with both feet with each step.” Exaggerating each foot placement, he stepped forward several paces. “You can also go from heel to toe, depending on the terrain and situation, but not that often. Now you try it.”
Jade did so. It was much harder than the druid made it appear.
“Not like that! I told you, toe to heel. Visualize it. Imagine you’re walking on hot rocks. Try to keep as much of your flesh away from the heat as you can, for the barest amount of time. Try again.” Not waiting for her second attempt, he stalked silently off into the forest.
Jade sucked in her lower lip, but then spit it out. Left alone, it would heal, but it was hard with Camoe’s impatience to deal with. She
was
trying her best. This time though, she imagined she could feel the heat through her boots. Stepping gingerly, she concentrated on keeping imaginary red-hot coals from burning into her soles, toe to heel. Traveling mostly on an incline, it was hard, but she kept at it. After a time, her leg muscles loosened, making the hike less hard. The quietness of the forest around her with the bright patches of sunlight here and there, the wonderful pungent smells of fresh pine needles with the underlying hint of moss, it all felt so much better than tromping around in the dark. Vibrancy grew all around, instilling in her a keen sense of renewal, making her feel alive. It was good to be outdoors.
The path continued much the same way for a good portion of the day until she rounded a small ridge top to find Camoe waiting in front of a thicket. He flashed a partial smile. “Well, that was much better. Keep it up and we may live through this.” Turning his back to her, he slipped into a withered patch of tangled scrub oak without a sound.
Jade stared at the living wall for a long moment. How was she supposed to watch where he stepped, or where she was
stepping
through that dying mess? Sucking in her lip, she went after him.
Once she fought past the first few dry brambles, the scrub oak thinned, revealing sagebrush mixed with tall meadow grass. Jade drew in a lungful of the sage. The Farm had specialized in it; she’d never gotten tired of the scent. The sage made it markedly easier to move through since it grew in small, short clumps, but Camoe made for the thickets.
Forging ahead, he slipped into a thick stand of unfamiliar, evergreen-like trees, far bushier and taller than any trees she’d seen on the Farm or viewed in holos. Not even the great sequoia or redwoods compared. The thick, fern-leaves, and massive gray-brown trunks, lorded over their surroundings from great heights, farther than she could see. Jade was awed. Dwarfing everything around them, they stood as stoic testaments to a land lush and vibrant.
As she advanced on the stand, she noticed the lodge pole pines trying to grow under the great branches were in danger of perishing, if they hadn’t already. Caught in the behemoth’s shade, lack of direct sunlight had turned their needles brown, while the bark had faded to a repulsive rust color. Dense carpets of moss, ferns and sprawling crabgrass, grew up the great trunks, adding to the mess she’d have to work her way past. The whole forest appeared to be dying, even the great trees.
A thought occurred to her. Burl didn’t have knees. Something his dark creator had deigned unnecessary, or lacked the skill to finish. In the Dark Citadel, the only time they’d had to crawl was the last vent shaft, but it was too dark for her to see how he accomplished it. Well, that and she’d fell asleep. But outdoors, away from the citadel, it looked like crawling was going to be required often. How did he do it? She stopped and looked back.
A moment later, her curiosity was sated. Falling deftly to the ground as if commanded to perform Dad’s morning ritual of pushups before her mom’s disappearance, Burl crawled forward on his hands and toes like a bug going under tree limbs and deadfall. When the debris became lower still, he simply went down to his elbows with apparent ease. Thankfully, he did have elbows. Burl made a bit louder noise than she cared for, but at least he seemed to be able to keep up.
Jade put her concerns aside for the time being: slipping through the brambles quietly took all her concentration. Perspiration beaded her brow. With any luck, she was getting better at it: Their lives depended on it. If only she could make Burl understand the need for stealth. She paused. Why couldn’t she? Burl had already proven he was capable of understanding her to a degree, even if he couldn’t speak.
Crawling near her, Burl paused, too, looking up like an obedient pet waiting for a signal from his master. Jade immediately felt guilty for the comparison. She wasn’t his master. Only the rich kept pets, with most of them connected to the King’s Administration in some way. Besides, a pet would have emotion visible in the eyes, such as devotion. Burl’s yellow-orange eyes were devoid of
any
emotion, as impassioned as a wind-up doll. Yet, his eyes did glint with an inner fire. So how was she going to convey to her mute friend the need for silence?
Wow, now there’s a paradox,
Jade thought. Then she shoved the thought from her mind. Camoe was widening the distance between them every second that passed.
An idea occurred to her to hold a finger to her lips. Except Burl didn’t have lips, or a mouth, for that matter. Putting her hands over her ears wouldn’t do any good either. Burl had no ears, not even charcoal drawn ones. He did respond to her commands well enough, either through intuitive sight reasoning, or signal recognition—likely some form of both. She was at a loss what to do.
Wait!
Eager, Jade motioned Burl to keep his eyes on her, then using exaggerated motions, performed her best imitation of a feline stalking prey. Three times, she went through the routine, making sure Burl kept his gaze locked on her. Satisfied the raggedy man had at least wondered if she was losing her mind—if he knew what one was—she continued after Camoe, concentrating on stalking like a feline, but only on two feet. Either Burl got the message or he didn’t. Before she’d gone very far, she found that stalking worked well with the toe-to-heel walking, making it easier to be quiet, particularly when navigating thicker areas for some reason.