Masters of the Veil (9 page)

“It is never good to kill for greed.” Bariv started pacing around the cave, his feet glowing red after every step. “In Atlas Crown, our food is given to us by the Veil. We are never hungry, as food is always available, and many in our community specialize in perfecting and transforming new recipes.” He halted. “You must try the frapelcarnes made by Grun of the Sunder clan at some point. He sends me mounds of them every now and again, but I digress.” His pacing resumed, as if he could think better in motion. “Creatures She sends often bear gifts to us that do not involve slaughter. Because of this, we almost never eat meat in our community, and creatures’ lives are never ended—by
our
hands. Population control is taken care of by Her, because if too many of a certain creature are given, they can also be taken away.”

“But you had to kill this skull-wolf thing?”

“Ahh,” Bariv started moving faster, “Not every gift is meant for the initial recipient. The skull-wolf was an unfortunate poison that needed to be eliminated. Since we do not waste the Veil’s bounty—as I’m sure you will see—I made the skin of the skull-wolf into something useful with my own hands.”

Sam’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “So, do you have, like, any leftover skin?”

“No, because you still would not have the necessary link if it was not taken by your own hand.”

Sam raised his voice. “You don’t make any sense. If I can’t kill anything and I can’t use something that is already dead, then I can’t do power magic.”

Bariv pointed at the candle from which he’d scooped the fire, which instantly flared to life. “Unless you know a loophole.”

“Do you?”

“More of a snake-hole.”

Sam furrowed his brow. “You lost me.”

“It has been a long time since someone was invited into the power arts; however, you are not the first. I know of a creature that will fill the required need.”

“So why snake-ho—” Sam stopped mid-sentence. “Ohhhhh.”

“I am not Her eyes for nothing.” Bariv gave him a somewhat smug smile. “There is actually a lot of wisdom brewing in this child-sized cauldron.”

“Cauldron, huh?” Sam asked, returning the look. “Cliché much?”

“Figuratively speaking, of course.”

“So this snake,” Sam cracked his knuckles, “I assume I have to find the skin that it shed?”

“That
he
shed… and no.”

“He? He who?”

“He who is dangerous, cunning, and extremely elusive. You know that lone quest that you were talking about earlier?”

“Uh-huh.”

Bariv flashed a wicked grin. “You guessed right.”

CHAPTER 11

S
amuel Lock’s fingertips pierced the caked mud up to his second knuckle.

“Well.” Sam’s face scrunched in disgust. “This is pleasant.” His nose was now just inches away from the putrid material encased in the small sack Bariv had given him. Sam was in this predicament after tripping over who-knows-what in the near pitch black.

He gave a sharp exhale and pulled himself to his feet.

“Sam.” He did his best to imitate Bariv’s voice. “Why don’t you just go right into the forest and look for an extremely elusive snake-thing? Am I going to tell you anything about it? No… I don’t think that’s necessary. Only one who needs to hear the truth seeks the blah blah blah. I’m going to let you figure it out on your own. Oh, and here, take this stuff. Oh, and don’t be alarmed that it smells like a fart trapped in a gym sock. Why? Oh, you’ll see… have fun.”

He wiped off what dirt he could feel, and his hand brushed across the pocket on his thigh that held the diamond. He was back out in the woods that had captivated him so much during the day. At night, it was a different ballgame. That feeling that someone was watching him had returned. He hoped it was Bariv, as he was alone in a strange place with nothing to protect himself with—other than the moldy tang coming from the pouch he held at arms’ length, which he guessed no creature would want to come near, anyway. He squinted and scanned the darkness for any signs of life, but all he could see was the glow of the green, heat-less fire from a couple of vines off in the distance.

He had no clue where he was.

About an hour ago, Bariv had taken Sam to the back of the platform in the cave and created a door in the rock that had opened into the forest. He’d conjured up the foul-smelling sack—along with Sam’s cleats—out of thin air, handed them both to Sam, then shoved him through the threshold, closing the rock behind him and sealing Sam out in the woods.

Sam had trudged through the multi-colored vegetation in no particular direction, holding the disgusting stuff as far from his nose as possible and hoping that something, anything, would happen. After the nasty fall over what might’ve been a protruding root, Sam found himself wishing that all the trees were zigzag trees.

He slowed his pace and continued in a random direction. The one thing Bariv had cautioned him about was not to go near the protective borders. Bariv had warned him that as he got close, he would hear a low buzz that would get louder the closer he got. He’d said that Sam wouldn’t be able to get past the border—as it was strong enough to keep a grotlon away from jelly-bees—and warned Sam not to try.

“Great way to treat guests,” Sam mumbled.

Soft hoots came from the treetops. Sam stared into the moonlit sky, looking for whatever little creature was making the noise, until he realized it was the leaves themselves.

Sam hooted back and the sounds stopped.

“Fine, then,” Sam huffed.

He kept his back toward the stone pillars and slowed to a languorous pace. The one nice thing about being out here was how clear the night sky appeared. The stars popped like firecrackers. Even on a clear night back home, when he would sit on the empty Carver field after a victorious game, the stars never seemed so bright.

In the sky above Atlas Crown, they flickered like tiny fires, set to show the world where to turn, but Sam didn’t know which ones to follow.

A sudden
snap
came from behind him.

Immediately pivoting—like he’d been trained to do on the field—he held out the rancid heap.

Behind him was just more forest… endless, endless forest. As his racing heart slowed,

something peculiar caught his eye. Hovering above a small bush—one with orange, tentacled branches—was a little black swirl, the same size and shape as the ones he had seen around his car and in his dream.

The swirl inched away. Sam traced the path it followed and saw more little swirls, just like the first. They looked like the ones on Bariv’s cheeks, but larger.

He should have put two and two together earlier.

“Hey,” Sam shouted. “C’mon out, Bariv. I know it’s you!”

No answer.

“It’s really okay. It makes sense that you would follow me. I’m just too clever for you.”

Sam barreled his way between two of the mutant orange bushes to follow the black swirls.

“You don’t have to play this game anymore. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that I found you out!”

Sam had to quicken his pace to keep up with Bariv’s swirls, which were quite spry.

“C’mon, I can see you up ahead!” Sam lied.

Sam revved up to a full sprint.
He’s pretty quick for a guy with such short legs
. Hopping over mounds of blue earth and tiny creeks, Sam muscled his way onward through the underbrush.

Then the black swirls vanished.

Sam stopped short, barely huffing and puffing even after running at full speed over half a football field’s worth of jungle floor.

“Man…”

The jungle around him was silent. Sam noticed, however, that it was not so much jungle anymore. All around him was a smooth, colorless, quartz-like material. The ground beneath his feet was almost like a glass floor, but with nothing underneath. Resting on his thigh, on his brand new football pants—though by now they needed to be changed, anyway—was the disgusting sack of gunk that Bariv had given him. He pulled the bag away from the formerly white material, but some of the slime, safely inside of the pouch a few moments ago, now seeped out. He almost threw up the food Bariv had given him as a training reward.

“Aww,” Sam moaned. “C’mon.”

Attempting to take his mind off the renewed stink, Sam bent down to examine what he was standing on. With his pinky, he flaked off a long, thin layer and held it up to the moonlight to get a better look. Something small and colorful twinkled inside.

Bringing it closer revealed a reflection of his eye… only it wasn’t his eye. It was red.

Am I seeing things? Is this some weird effect of the moonlight?
He stared at the red eye, which seemed to be unattached to a face.

“Bariv!” Sam shouted into the vast expanse. “I know you’re there.”

An eerie silence crept over the landscape. Adrenaline careened through his veins, so he took a slow, deep breath, knowing that a frantic heart would only generate frantic behavior.

There’s nothing to be afraid of
.
Man up
.

Then something soft and warm, like a kiss from fevered lips, pressed against his thigh. There, feeling the putrid material, was a long forked tongue. The ends—which were the color of raw meat—flicked about his leg, pressing into the white fabric. The viscous saliva made his skin crawl.

Too shocked to run, Sam’s gaze followed the tongue to a tremendous mouth, outfitted with tremendous fangs. His body finally let him react, and he jumped, sprinting to anywhere but there.

Bariv said “snake,” not “monster!”

The tongue and mouth—hopefully far behind him—belonged to what had to be by far the world’s largest snake. Its body was like an oil pipeline, and its fangs could probably pierce a bank vault. It looked like a leftover dinosaur… something the other dinosaurs would run away from.

Sam’s cleats clacked against the glassy surface as he took cover against the curve of what could have served as a crystal amphitheater. The quartz here was less opaque, and it looked to be a few feet thick under his feet. Underneath it, all he could see was black. His heart seemed less intent on breaking through his ribcage as he forced his breathing to slow.

Around him the crystal walls glittered in the reflected light of the too-bright stars. Intricate cracks made long shelves and designs, traveling all the way up to the natural bridges overhead. For the moment, Sam felt safe.

Then the smell caught up with him again. Running had left his nostrils free of the gag-inducing mulch that Bariv had given him; however, at a standstill, it returned with a vengeance. He still clutched the bag in his fist. Why hadn’t he dropped it in his panic?

He gasped and froze as the touch against his leg returned.

The snake was again trying to lick his flesh. Its tongue curved around the corner and slithered up his leg. It made its way across Sam’s chest all the way to his outstretched hand, gently prodding the bag. How the snake had managed to sneak up on him, Sam could not fathom, but nevertheless there it was.
How did it catch me?
He had no idea what to do or how to get away. He felt a mighty panic washing over him.
This is it
,
I am

going to be eaten by a giant snake in the middle of nowhere
. He clenched his eyes shut, and prepared for the first bite.

“I believe that is meant for me.”

Sam heard the voice in the center of his head, like music through headphones. He couldn’t see where it was coming from, as he was too terrified to open his eyes.

“
There
,” the voice resonated in his brain again, “
in your hand. That is for me, I presume.
”

Sam felt the tongue recede from his body.

“What the—”

“
That is from Bariv, correct?
”

Sam carefully opened one eye and peeked at the bag. “Um…”

“
Is it for me or isn’t it? I can’t imagine you would have any interest in it yourself.
”

Sam stopped breathing as he realized where the voice in his head was coming from.

“There is no way a snake is talking to me.” Sam clenched his eyes tight, shaking his head.

“
Believe what you want. But I still would like to have my present, if you please.
”

Bracing himself for the worst, Sam stretched out his quivering hand—still not daring to look.

In one quick swipe, the bag was pulled from his grasp and the smell diminished. The creature’s retreat made no sound, yet Sam knew the danger was fading; he could
feel
the presence receding.

The farther away that thing gets, the better.

Very carefully, Sam peeked around the corner.

The giant snake glided along the smooth surface, as silent as a shadow. Sam had never seen a snake—or anything, for that matter—like that one. Its scales were deep black and looked as if they were reflecting the stars, yet when it moved, the pinpricks of light remained firmly in their places. The stars were
part
of the snake. The tail gave a small flick as it rounded a bend and disappeared.

Sam took a deep, thankful breath. He transferred the remaining gunk on his palm to the wall with a long swipe. That had been a close call.

Then he remembered why he’d come in the first place—Bariv’s loophole.

“Seriously?” He shuddered. “
That’s
the snake? He’s got to be joking.”

Sam bit his lip. On the one hand, he could end up as an appetizer for that monster, and on the other, he could get some of the skin and make a faster return back to Stanton. It seemed like a no-brainer—count his blessings and go back empty-handed—but then he remembered Bariv’s black swirls.

Letting out a small groan, he followed the serpent. If it would get him home quicker, he might as well try.

Besides
,
Bariv must still be following me, and he wouldn’t let that thing eat me.

Sam cupped his hands around his mouth. “Wait up!”

He started moving faster, resisting the nagging thought that the closer he got to the snake, the closer he got to becoming a meal. For the first time in his life, Sam wished he were smaller, so then maybe his meaty arms wouldn’t appear so appetizing.

“Hold on a second!”

He rounded the bend where the snake had disappeared.

Am I really trying to talk to a snake?

Against all better judgment, he kept going. Normally, millions of years of instinctual evolution would tell him to run
away
from the giant man-eating predator, but then again, he normally wouldn’t be in the middle of Magictown, trying to learn sorcery from someone not tall enough to ride most roller coasters.

The snake was gone.

The empty crystalline structures loomed over him like reflective bleachers.

He tried to stop short, but his cleats skidded across the crystal for a few feet. Once he came to a halt, he heard only silence.

He’d blown his chance.

The cool flood of relief cut short as his coach’s voice resonated in his mind, more forceful than the snake’s vocal projection.
You gonna mess this up, too? You gonna cower there and let the world scare you into submission? You want your dolly, little girl? Gimme twenty!

Sam grinned at the thought, and dropped to the ground. It was slippery under his sweaty palms, but he managed to execute twenty full-extension pushups.

The activity—so tied to his life back home—brought memories to the surface: the look on his father’s face as Sam had been escorted out of his own house; the booing of his ex-fans at the game; his sunken dreams of a scholarship and a multi-million-dollar contract to the pros.

He had this one chance to make it all right.

Knowing one thing for sure—he was sick of failing—a strong desire took root. He had to follow that snake.

But how? Which way do I go?

Then the smell hit again, stronger than ever. Maybe it was because he had just gotten re-acclimated to a world that didn’t smell like sumo wrestler, but it made him dry-heave. He hated the smell, despised Bariv for introducing him to it, and then realized it was the solution to his problem.

He would follow the stench.

He inhaled deeply, scrunched his face, and started walking. It seemed to be working. The smell drew him to the left in an almost supernatural way.
It couldn’t have smelled like of one of Mom’s apple pies, or a well-cooked steak on the grill, or even one of those rinsefish flowers, noooo.

Step by step he crossed the crystal surface, hoping that he wouldn’t fall through a crack into never-never land, or perhaps into the jaws of something that would look at that snake and salivate.