The Destroyer (10 page)

“We need to leave as soon as possible,” Nadea said through ragged breaths. Kaiyer went over to his horse and began to unpack it. He glanced at me and smiled with excitement.

“There are two hundred guards at the entrance to the canyon now. Come morning they are going to be combing the jungle. We don’t have a choice. We need to leave the horses and climb up the side of the cliff.” Nadea turned to Greykin, ready for him to argue. He got up, nodded, and went over to begin rearranging his packs off his horse.

“How am I going to climb up that cliff face?” Jessmei asked. She didn’t bother preparing her bags. Greykin would do it for her.

“I will carry,” Kaiyer said as he pulled a pack on to his shoulders. He patted the muzzle of his horse and began to chant soft words to him.

“How are you going to carry her and your gear?” Greykin shot over his shoulder.

“I climb up. Make rope. Climb down. Carry Jessmei,” he said with confidence.

“You can’t. The rope was cut at the top. There is someone waiting for us,” Nadea said. She had already transitioned her gear from her horse to her shoulders.

“Wait. Wait. I don’t understand. What rope was cut from the top?” Iarin asked over his shoulder while he frantically rummaged through his belongings. The horses had been carrying a lot of our gear. It would be tough to decide what to leave and what to carry. I had my bag of books, along with another bag that contained small pots, my tent, and a few sets of clothes. The vision of dragging it all up the side of the cliff made me shiver in a cold sweat.

“We tied a rope to a tree at the top. Halfway down someone severed it cleanly. Whoever cut it did it from the top with a knife or sword,” Nadea said.

“And this person still might be up there waiting for us?” Jessmei voiced what we had all feared.

"This sounds like a great idea," Iarin said sarcastically. "How about I go up last?"

“No. I’ll go up. Kill someone. Tie rope. Come down, get Jessmei, and climb up,” Kaiyer spoke as he helped me put on my bag. It must have weighed half as much as I did.

“I’ll carry the girl. It’s my duty. My axe weighs more than her,” Greykin said as he tugged on the straps to his pack. “Is everyone ready?” Kaiyer shrugged.

I looked around the camp. The horses were untied and unsaddled. Part of the soup I had prepared for dinner was still simmering, waiting for Nadea and Kaiyer to come back and claim it. Packs filled with horse feed, extra tents, and cookware lay discarded around the campfire like abandoned trash. Kaiyer disappeared into the jungle before I replied that I was ready. The rest of us looked at each other for a few precious seconds before following him.

We had been through a lot already. I thought bringing the O'Baarni back to life was going to be the toughest part of this adventure. I didn’t consider that our problems would get worse after we woke him.

We should have expected the trip home would be more challenging than the journey down to Vanlourn. Actually, I hadn’t even known what to expect. None of us did. I had pictured him sitting up, offering his help, and then leading us against the Ancients, just like the legends told us he had done so many lifetimes ago.

I imagined he would be different, more powerful, less confused, like a God with all the answers. Did Nadea’s father think the same? How about the king? I doubted it. I was just a stupid boy. The only reason Nadea invited me was because I could speak the language, and it turned out that I was poor at even that task.

Now it looked like we would all die, either falling from the face of the massive cliff, our screams filling this hot, sticky night with life, or captured by the soldiers of Vanlourn. At least they wouldn’t rape or hurt the women. Jessmei was the princess and Nadea the duke’s daughter. If Vanlourn captured them alive, they would be significant political clout against Nia. But we would be tortured and murdered.

I thought of my home next to the lighthouse on the bluffs overlooking the sea, gulls flapping in the wind and cawing their horrible song. The picture was beautiful in my memory. I should have never come here.

I taught the little ones every morning for a few hours before they went back to their homes in the nearby village of Desai. Grandpa would tell me what I had done well during the lectures. Later in the evening adults from the village would come, eager to learn how to read, write, and do math. Grandfather taught them, but I listened and learned as well.

A sinewy green vine smacked me in the face, stinging my eyes with the wet, verdant chlorophyll scent and bringing me back to the task of throwing myself off of the cliff or getting captured by an enemy nation’s army. I wiped the tears from my eyes and hoped that no one else noticed them. Among these warriors I was already the weakling, I didn’t need them seeing another testament to my vulnerability. Grandfather told me that crying never solved anything. But I knew that he cried sometimes when he didn’t realize I was able to hear him. He missed my mother and grandmother. So did I, though sometimes I felt I only missed the idea of them, a warm, yet strong protective feminine presence. My real memories of them were dreamlike and difficult to grasp.

I tripped and Iarin grabbed my arm with an iron hold. I hadn’t realized he was behind me.

“It will be okay Paug. The Spirits of the Forest protect us.” I looked at him through the dusk light. It was the time of the evening where the orange light filtered down from the sky and made it difficult to notice details of close objects. The features of his strong, angular face were obscured and softened, his eyes looked kind, not pitying or condescending. I realized that despite his reassuring words, he too had doubts and fears about our mission, and I actually felt better about my own trepidation knowing even this confident warrior felt fear. I wondered how dark it would get tonight, and if we would be able to move through the jungle with the moons out.

“The Spirits of the Forest? I didn't know the forest had spirits.”

“Ha! I’ll tell you all about them when we get to the top.” He stopped and I realized we had reached the rock wall. I almost couldn't see Kaiyer; he was already beginning to scale the face. The man moved up the jagged facade like a spider, smooth and graceful, not even stopping to look for holds, pulling himself up with ease. I was clumsier climbing the ladder up the lighthouse.

“There is also a rope here.” Nadea pointed off to the side, where she had hammered the spikes into the wall and ran the rope through them. “We’ll each go up the main rope that Kaiyer ties to the top. We’ll use a smaller piece of rope,” she showed one with a weird looking loop tied to the end, “to anchor into this line over here, it almost goes to the top. You’ll have to unlatch it like this.” She demonstrated that one side of the loop was made like a door and could be opened if you pushed on it. “And take it off the line that is under each piton and attach it to the line that is above it. Understand?” We all nodded.

"That was fast," she said when the thick rope that Kaiyer pulled up leapt next to us. Nadea grabbed it and tugged a few times.

“Paug, you first, Iarin behind him, help Paug with his line.” Nadea handed us each ropes with the metal circles on them. “Those are the only two I have, so send them down when you get to the top.”

The lump in my stomach gave birth to one in my throat. My hands grew cold and my body seized. Iarin touched my shoulder and walked, no, practically dragged me over to the rope. He tied the safety hook on my belt and clamped it into the line on the wall.

“This is going to be easy. Use your legs like you are walking. I’ll care for your safety line. Take as long as you need. There are outcrops you can rest on top of,” he whispered to me. I nodded as my hands wrapped around the rough, fibrous rope. Even my hands were soft and weak, I thought bitterly, wishing I had been more physically active to train and prepare myself for this mission.

The first fifty feet were as awkward as I feared. I kept losing my balance and sliding against the wall on my right side, sending showers of pebbles and dust down to signal my ineptitude. Each mishap stretched my body and mind to their breaking point, as I forced myself to keep from crying out in fear. After each blunder, I stayed still for a few moments until the night wind blew cool against my back, calming yet terrifying as it reminded me that I still needed to ascend farther. I was glad that twilight had descended and I couldn’t see the ground beneath me. When I tried to look down I just saw a dusk-lit Iarin and then endless darkness.

I couldn’t stop shaking, my hands were wet with sweat and blood, and my forearms burned, my muscles were so unused to this much activity. The pack on my back weighed so much that I wondered if Iarin was hanging on it and trying to drag me down in jest. I wished he would have carried it, but his pack looked three times the size of mine and I knew that I wasn’t really carrying my fair share.

My slick hands slipped and I gasped in horror. Iarin grunted and his hand pushed up on my pack. I took a deep breath and continued on. It felt like we had been doing this forever.

“Break,” Iarin said. I moved a few more feet up and found a small ledge to rest upon.

“I don’t know if I can make it.” My breath came out in ragged gasps.

“Why not?” Kaiyer said from above me. I looked up in surprise and saw him leaning over the edge of the cliff a dozen feet above me. His body was a thin cut of black ink against the starry night.

Iarin chuckled beneath me. I found myself laughing and climbed up the last few feet with renewed strength. When I slumped onto the top of the cliff, I rolled out of my pack, not even bothering to lift it off the ground. I took a deep breath and it tasted like sweet victory. Kaiyer helped Iarin off of the edge and clapped him on the back.

“We have to drop the ropes,” I said while I untied the short line from my waist and passed it to Iarin. He attached the loops to the main rope and let it go. Then he shook the rope for a few minutes until it went taut below us.

It was Jessmei and Greykin's turn to climb. I had enough pride left to hope it would take them a bit longer than Iarin and I. I wondered if he would actually carry the small blonde princess, or if he would do something similar to what Iarin and I had done. Greykin would probably tie her to his back along with all his gear, then grunt, curse, and sweat his way to the top. I looked at how the climb had ravaged my hands and I couldn’t imagine the sheltered white skin of the princess’s hands would be tough enough to endure the journey if she was forced to hoist herself up.

“Did you see anyone up here? Anyone who cut the rope?” I asked Kaiyer. He shook his head.

“No tracks around the tree where we had secured it. But this is a pretty rocky area. I didn't smell anyone either. It is a mystery.” He smiled easily and then looked into the sky. “Why are there no stars over there?” He said, pointing to the distant area to the west, where the bright splattering of pinprick stars that spanned the rest of the sky was blocked by a matte black spot, like ink spilled on the pages of a book.

“Oh, it’s the moons, Alta and Yaha. They are new for the first week of every month. Well, somewhat new. A sliver of Yaha can normally be seen on the sixth day. Why? Did you remember something?”

“No. It comes in pieces. I have remembered a few more things, but they aren’t clear. Parts of conversation, things people have said to me that don’t really relate at all to my past.” He looked from the dark spots in the sky back to me. “I don’t know if I am this person you wish. I do remember people that I called Elvens. Perhaps they were the same people you call Ancients.”

“That’s great!” I stood up in surprise, my fatigue forgotten. Iarin looked over to me and made a shushing noise. “What do you remember?” I whispered. A few seconds passed and I started to worry he had not heard me.

“I remember a woman that used to visit the stables that I tended. She was beautiful but vicious and powerful. Even her own kind feared her.” He walked over to me and sat down on the rocks. “Tell me again what your Ancients look like?”

“They are supposed to be tall, slender, and attractive, with sharp features, curved eyes and pointed ears. Some legends say they have long, flowing hair and everything they created was beautiful. Apparently they used to rule the human race, because we could not take care of ourselves and needed their stewardship. They gave us protection, guidance, and taught us everything. We helped them in their great works.” I paused to gauge his reaction, but it was too dark to see his face clearly. “I don’t believe those stories though.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“It doesn’t make sense. If they were really our protectors then where are their creations, their art, and their teachings? We don’t know much about them. I think that they are more sinister than the legends make them out to be. They are also invading the Northlands and battling our armies. Those same legends I spoke of earlier say that the O’Baarni was a scourge. That he destroyed the Ancients out of hatred and cast the humans into a Dark Age that lasted a thousand years. Some tales even say that he was an Ancient and destroyed his kin out of jealousy. They say that he destroyed all the Ancients’ art, their technology, and their future.” I paused for a breath. I had given this speech a few times in my life. It was the summary of Grandfather’s and my work.

“So what is the real story?” He lay back on the rocks next to me and I imagined him putting his arms behind his head like a pillow. I was a little disappointed. I had wanted him to be enthralled. This was about him after all. This was his story. It was his legacy. He should be more attentive.

“There are other legends. The one I think is closest to what I believe is that you killed the Ancients to free humans from an epoch of slavery. You saved the human race and should have been a hero. Maybe you slept voluntarily in case Ancients returned one day. You knew that we would need you again. The legends are rife with hypocrisies, statements that don’t make sense. The only logical explanation is that someone planted false evidence to make us think that the Ancients were our benefactors. That way, when they came back we would accept them with open arms. You are here now, alive and able to help us against them, we need you now.” The lump in my throat was back. I didn’t think I would ever be able to meet the O’Baarni. Yet here I was talking to him. Explaining how he needed to save us. I would never forget this.