Penult Page 26

  “This man happened, that’s what. This is the one maybe you hear about.”

  “Ahah! The James.” The woman turned and called back to some other curious residents who were gathering on the adjacent mats. She spoke the tongue of the Deeps, a language that sounded unlike any I had ever heard on Earth.

  “Sorry,” I said, softly and somewhat passively aggressive.

  “Sorry for what?” said Urszula. “For giving me life?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, if it brings you trouble. I recall you weren’t so thrilled about it when it happened.”

  “Shut up. I was stupid. You bring me gift. I should have appreciate.

  “Really? Do you really feel that way? I mean … you’re here all the time it seems. You never fade. Things can’t be so great back—”

  “Things are fine! And I do go back sometime. When I do, I treasure my time there … at home. Unlike some. Unlike … your woman.”

  I sighed with some annoyance. “Listen, Karla had a hard life. I can’t blame her for wanting—”

  “You think my life is not difficult? I have no house, no family. Yet, it is a treasure what you give me. I have no regret. None. So shut up!”

  Her eyes demanded mine. Tears bulged but refused to drip. She leaned over and gave me a quick kiss.

  “Where is Viktor?” Urszula asked the woman and the onlookers who continued to gather.

  “He comes,” said a man.

  Across the bog, another man was bounding from mat to mat making his way around one of the few open areas of water to reach us. He wore a wide-brimmed hat of ragged straw that he had to clasp to his head with one hand as he ran.

  When he reached out pad he pulled up in front of Urszula and beamed, all eager and excited. His grey complexion could not disguise his youth. He gave Urszula an awkward but gentle hug.

  “Viktor, this one needs a mount,” said Urszula.

  “I have two nymphs ready to molt. One male and one female.”

  “Give him the boy,” she said. “Easier to handle.”

  He threw off his hat, peeled off a shirt and dove into the water disappearing beneath the mats. He bobbed back up a minute later with a thick rope, slimy with algae, in his teeth. He tossed the line to me. I caught it reflexively.

  “What’s this for?”

  “Give it a tug,” said Urszula.

  I yanked the rope and whatever was at the other end of it yanked it back out of my hands.

  Urszula lurched after it but Viktor held up both palms as the loose end slithered back into the bog.

  “It is okay. The nymph will come. It is ready. It has been waiting.”

  The water began to churn. Two dripping sickle-sized claws emerged, latching onto the edge of the giant lily pad. Urszula clapped and Lalibela flew off, leaving behind the bloody thigh bone of a Cherub.

  The creature that emerged had a face like a frog’s but with a hard shell and bulging, compound, wide-set eyes. A pair of sharp and stubby antennae projected forward like Triceratops horns. Multiple jointed appendages adorned its mouthparts. I backed away as it clambered onto the pad, sending tremors through the thick leaf.

  It stood there, abdomen pulsing, hissing from holes in its side. Viktor went up to it and stroked its back, murmuring something softly.

  He back turned to us. “This one we have been holding back. The change will go fast. Be ready to fly with him as soon as he is able. Penult has been raiding us. They try to kill them all before they can molt.

  “Fly?” I said, staring at the stubby, flattened fins on the creature’s back where the wings should be. “How is this thing gonna fly?”

  “Prepare to be surprised,” said Urszula, sitting down cross-legged on the lily pad.

  The creature latched onto a reed stalk and began to climb. There was a ripping sound as the shell of the nymph burst apart. A second head appeared behind the original. Something hideous pushed out of the shell, arching backwards, pulsing. It just hung there, with its shriveled, deformed wings dangling and I thought for sure something had gone wrong. This creature had none of the elegance of Lalibela.

  After a time, it reached out its claws and grasped its own shell, extracting the rest of itself from the nymphal abdomen. It clambered off beside its former exoskeleton. Now the wing buds began to pulse and expand slowly.

  Someone shouted and pointed into the sky. A Seraph had appeared over the bog. On the horizon several dark objects were winging over the hills. A flight of falcons were bearing down on us.

  “Shit!” said Urszula, hopping to her feet. She popped a device into her mouth that had been dangling from a cord around her neck. I had thought it was just some strange decorative pendant, but it made a loud clicking sound as she blew.

  Lalibela came zooming over the reed forest, dropping down to the water’s surface, stopping abruptly but delicately on the rim of the pad.

  Urszula yanked a sword—my sword?—from a sheath in her saddle and tossed to me. I mishandled it and the point went down into the leaf, piercing it and springing a leak.

  “You protect him! He needs more time. And he cannot go back into water.”

  She hopped on Lalibela’s saddle and buzzed off, joining a flight of three other dragonfly riders who were soaring off to intercept the falcons.

  Chapter 38: Dive Bombed

  I stood on that giant lily pad like a jack-lighted deer, gawking as the falcons peeled to engage the dragonfly riders coming at them from both sides. But behind the falcons came three condors, heavily laden and skimming the hilltops.

  My wits returned and I sidled over to the newborn dragonfly with my sword. Its wings were still crumped, but I could see fluid pumping through the translucent veins. It hissed and backed away as I approached, lashing out with its razor-clawed forelegs. Protect it? Who was going to protect me from it?

  I got as close as I could risk and stood facing the condors, still uncomfortable at the prospect of having my back turned to that hungry and quite possibly hungry beast. I couldn’t shed the image of Lalibela munching on that Cherub.

  Viktor had hopped off the pat onto an island of dead and matted vegetation where he had disappeared into a cluster of huts. I thought he had wisely run off to get under cover, but he soon re-emerged with a bulky length of sun-bleached driftwood almost as long as he was tall—his scepter. I could only hope that his prowess at conjuring blasts of plasma matched the size of his implement.

  He found a spot on the other side of the molted nymph that was turning less and less nymph-like with every passing minute. It wings steadily lengthened and smoothed as it transformed itself into a full-fledged dragonfly.

  Overhead, Urszula and the other dragonfly riders had intercepted and were busy jousting with the falcons, taking advantage of the stop-on-a-dime maneuvering ability and speed of the dragonflies. The falcons were not as quick but they were nimble and potent with their ballistae.

  So far only one of six had tumbled into the bog, while one of the dragonflies had suffered some damage to a wing and had to retire from the battle, fluttering down into the reed forest for refuge.

  Urszula was still at it, dogfighting aggressively, unleashing countless varieties of plasma against her foes—some as transparent and unsubstantial as blasts of wind, others alternately fiery or gooey.

  Meanwhile the three lumbering condors came gliding down unopposed, the weight of their burdens stretching their talons earthward. They struggled to remain aloft.

  Dusters on several of the floating islands began to abandon their huts, taking to the open water in craft fashioned from giant leaves and split reed, sun-cured and folded into sleek, little boats with sharp keels.

  A cry rang out among those who fled. I turned to see one pointing into the sky. Another dragonfly had been hit and was tumbling out of the sky, two of its wingtips sheared completely off.

  “Is that … Urszula?” I said, to Viktor. He could only shrug at me and look away.

  The condors got themselves lined up in a neat little queue and came diving in on
us one by one. The first dropped its boulder on a set of docks crowding a clearing at the edge of the reed forest. Dusters scattered and screamed as the bomb struck and exploded with a quiet plop. No fire or smoke. But thousands of whirling, screeching whips that flew like self-propelled bolos, slashing and whipping and strangling all they encountered.

  Relieved of its burden, the condor veered and soared away, heading back towards the hills.

  “Jesus Christ!” I said, ducking as a few stray bolos came whistling over our heads.

  The second condor dropped its payload on one of the floating villages, tearing a bunch of huts to shreds, ripping a gaping whole into the island itself, into which the wreckage tumbled. This one stayed low, spraying ballista bolts in every direction as it raked its now empty talons into every lily pad it passed over, slicing them in two, flooding and capsizing them. It too, soared away when it reached the edge of the bog.

  Viktor and I had hit both the deck. Distracted by the tumult I had lost track of the third condor. But now I saw it. It was coming straight for us.

  Chapter 39: Plasma

  The young dragonfly, no longer a nymph, had spread its wing buds far beyond the blunt nubbins they had been when it first molted, but it was still in no condition to fly. Viktor and I stood with staff and sword between it and the oncoming condor, though I was seconds away from bailing on this defense and diving into the bog.

  I didn’t see what we could do about that weird fibrous and snake-like shrapnel if that bomb dropped on our pad. Yet, I remained frozen to the spot, befuddled more than brave. The vulnerability and innocence of that newly molted bug touched me. It would be a horrible shame to have its life snuffed before it could use its wings for the first time.

  And what pretty wings they were, striped like a tiger with broad, coppery bands alternating with membrane as clear and twinkly as diamonds.

  The condor loomed, blocking the sun, engulfing us in its shadow. Time slowed. I could see the bombardier in his cage, peering through some kind of sight, adjusting the angle of the talons to find the perfect release point.

  It was pretty clear he was aiming for the cluster of huts right beside us, close enough for us to be taken out by that shrapnel. If this one was as skilled as the others, we could expect perfect precision. The other bombs couldn’t have hit the docks and village any more perfectly.

  I loosened my will as best I could, again searching for that ball of energy swirling in my gut that would tell whether I had the mojo to summon a potent spell. As usual, all I felt in my stomach was a bit of queasiness. I was pretty sure I was about to shoot a blank.

  Without warning and a mite too soon, Viktor let loose a volley of sizzling plasma from his staff. The power of his burst surprised me, but it went zipping harmlessly over the condor’s gunnery cage.

  I only had a second to react. But the mojo, it was there! It was now or never.

  Two dragonflies came hurtling. I had to hold my fire. But could I? This was way more painful than holding back a sneeze. The force trying to rip free of me was far more powerful than a mere puff of air from my lungs.

  The dragonflies converged and slashed into the side of the condor shredding its right wing. It swerved and tumbled into the bog with a huge splash, retaining its payload. The bomb disintegrated on contact with the water, its strands unraveling like a nest of angry snakes, tearing into the condor and its crew before the water rendered them inert, drifting like so many drowned snakes.

  I could see Viktor staring at me while I stood there with my sword outstretched, shaking and convulsing like someone transfixed by a lightning bolt. I had no choice but to let loose my blast. Dismayed, I watched a massive bolus of angry plasma go firing into the sky, narrowly missing one of the dragonflies as it scrambled out of the way.

  The burst corkscrewed into the sky, leaving a vapor trail behind it. It found a set of wings—a Seraph observing the fray—and tracked him. The Seraph tried to flee but my plasma homed in like a guided missile and scored a direct hit, pulverizing his wings. The Seraph struck the bog like a meteor, piercing a lily pad, disappearing beneath the surface with a kerplunk!

  Urszula landed Lalibela hard beside us, rippling the floor of the lily pad like a bouncy house.

  “You idiots! You almost hit me.”

  “Sorry. I … uh … I was aiming for the condor.”

  “Both of you … you are terrible. You really need to practice.”

  Viktor was too stunned to speak. I followed his gaze. He was staring out towards the hills at the three falcons and two condors that survived this encounter.

  I had another bowling ball of energy winding up deep in my core. I extended my sword, lining it up against the rounded summits of the low mountains that hemmed the bog lands. I matched the point with the lead condor in the formation and let it rip.

  The shock wave that erupted sent Viktor stumbling to his knees and caused Urszula to stumble.

  I had never conjured anything close to this. A blue ball of cold fire spun into the sky, accelerating like a supersonic fighter. It caught the lead condor just as it was about to disappear over a ridge and engulfed it, shattering its frame to splinters. There was nothing left to fall but a heap of limp membrane with lumps of embedded Hashmallim. It collapsed like a limp kite, draping some tall conifers on the hilltop.

  “Wow,” said Urszula. “I stand corrected. Like riding a bicycle. Yes?”

  Dusters in sharp-keeled boats swarmed the area where the condor had gone down, extracting what was left of the crew of the condor from the wreckage in the bog. None of them had survived the effects of their bomb, and neither had the lone Seraph that I had brought down. I wondered where souls like them ended up now. I could only hope it was no place good.

  Chapter 40: Tigger

  While the bog people recovered from the aftermath of the battle, we flew back to New Axum, me again in front of Urszula on her saddle. The young dragonfly trailed behind Lalibela for the most part, darting off to investigate various bugs he spotted on the way.

  He was meant to be my mount, but Urszula wouldn’t let me fly him just yet.

  “You don’t just jump on a new insect,” she told me. “They need learn to fly with a rider. They turn too fast, shake you off, break your leg, if they fly like they want, like natural. They need learn to fly gentle, with rider. They must be tamed. Broken. Like horse. And besides … we have no saddle.”

  Honestly, I just think Urszula wanted an excuse to have me near her. I swear, sometimes she fondled when I was in front of her on that saddle. She would never admit it, but I was pretty sure she had a big crush on me.

  I never thought I would be her type of man. Physically, there’s no way I could impress her. I’m not anywhere near rugged. I have a thin skin. I take things personal.

  And yet, she liked me. I guess we had been through a lot together. She had an odd respect for me. Or maybe she admired my skills.

  I couldn’t imagine having a relationship with someone like her. She was just too weird, so different from anyone I knew. She had died really young, and had never really gotten a chance to mature normally. She was basically a twelve year old who had a hundred years’ experience in the after lands, most of it spent in the Deeps. That alone had to warp one’s personality in a major way.

  She took her time descending into New Axum, making a wide circle around the upper terrace. I was relieved to see no fighting going on near the cliffs. All was quiet for the time being.

  We landed on one of the larger plazas that had been cleared of overgrowth and rubble. We were just outside the warren.

  “So, do you need me to take you home or can you find your own way??

  “Nah, I’m good,” I said. “Thanks … for the ride.”

  The young dragonfly hovered down beside Lalibela and proceeded to groom its antennae.

  Urszula flicked her head. “Your beast. Touch him.”

  “Touch him?”

  “He is your beast. If he is to bond with you, you must touch him.”


  “Touch him where?”

  “Between the eyes is best. Move slow and keep your palm flat.”

  I went around Lalibela, keeping well out of range of her claws. I always walked around the business ends of these big dragonflies like they were jets, only it wasn’t engines I was worried about getting sucked into.

  “Now approach him slowly. Palms up and flat.”

  I did as she said and the dragonfly ceased grooming and watched me. A hundred images of me reflected off its many and mirrored eye facets. I placed my palm on the hinged plate, fringed with bristles, between its eyes and below its antennae. It looked kind of like a big-eyed manatee up close. The plate was waxy and firm, and much warmer than I expected.

  The dragonfly rose up and engulfed my forearm in its dangly mouthparts. I gave a shout and tried to pull away, but it had me gripped. Images of that dismembered Cherub came to me.

  “Relax,” said Urszula, laughing.

  I winced and gritted my teeth. “Relax? The damned thing … is … it’s … eating me.”

  “This is not eating. Believe me, you would know if he is eating. He is only tasting you. Remembering you. It is how we bond.”

  “Jesus Christ!” I stood there, hyperventilating, as all those dangly appendages fondled my arm. I could there its sharp and powerful mandibles close just enough to make contact with my skin. But the creature was gentle, and gradually my fear dissipated.

  When the fondling stopped, I kept my arm in place.

  “Is he done?”

  “Yes. He is finish. You may have your arm.”

  “Sheesh.” I yanked it out and rubbed it. It was tingling slightly but no worse for the wear and completely dry.

  “I will tether your beast in this meadow overnight and tomorrow we will go foraging for prey on the lower terrace. Come here at midday tomorrow and I will give you some flying lessons. You will need to bring a saddle from the armory.”

  “Armory? You mean the grotto?”