|
Daniel woke suddenly as his bed seemed to lurch to one side, rather violently jolting him out of a pleasant dream.
"What the --"
Another lurch was jerked short, and followed by a muffled curse somewhere above deck. He flung off the blanket and grabbed his clothes, but had to hang on to the side of the small desk to keep on his feet. That was when he noticed the sound of wind rushing passed the porthole and the creak of protesting wood.
Daniel was on deck in a matter of minutes, and found Ian gripping the wheel tightly. The zeppelin above was pulling to the port side, while the paddles in the stern urged the great ship in the opposite direction, against the gusting wind.
"Hang on to something, this is gonna get worse before it gets better!" Ian grabbed the gear handle and pushed it forward, sending a thick gust of steam up from the paddles.
Daniel ducked into the storm and worked his way aft. "Wouldn't it be safer to keep the anchors down and wait it out?" He had no idea how the man had reeled in the four anchors, but they were clearly up. The ship was moving pretty fast, fighting the wind like a strong current.
Ian shook his head. "Gusts like this can rip them right out. Better to keep moving, allows for some give in the lines."
He had to concede, having no more than a day's worth of experience in this type of sailing. "Anything I can do to help?"
"Yeah, hang on and don't fall overboard."
"I can do that," Daniel replied, mostly to himself. Luckily he knew he wasn't prone to getting seasick, or airsick as the case may be. For the next two hours, they endured buffeting and jostling as the wind swept down from the mountains to their left, slamming into the massive balloon above and the large wooden ship below, while flying through the space in between with little resistance.
One trip below to use the head proved tricky when a strong gust sent Daniel uncomfortably close to the railing, affording him a view of the rocky ground far below. Falling overboard the Myst wasn't something a quick toss of a floatation device would remedy, and he wondered why safety ropes weren't readily available.
On the way back to offer little if any assistance to the ship's captain, Daniel noticed something large and black swoop in, landing mid ship with a loud squawk. He grabbed the nearest rope to steady himself and saw three more creatures come in for a landing. They were iguanas, large and frilled, but sporting thick wings.
"What the hell are those things?"
Ian glanced at the deck, then shook his head dismissively. "They're harmless, don't worry. They don't like the wind, and sometimes hitch a ride until a storm passes."
Daniel stared at one, trying to come to terms with the odd looking beast. "But what is it, exactly?"
"They're lizards," Ian shrugged.
"Lizards don't fly, not where I come from."
"We've already established this isn't where you come from." Ian chastised. "Besides, you didn't mind them so much last night."
"Chicken of the trees," Daniel muttered, thinking of last night's meal.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Ian fought against another gust, pulling hard on the wheel. "So in your world, lizards don't fly?"
"Well neither do sailing ships."
"I think it's easing up. Just in time, too."
Daniel glanced around instinctively, even though there were no tree branches or leaves soaring on the wind that could offer any indication. But they hadn't been tossed by a gust in over ten minutes, and the familiar rushing sound had definitely diminished.
Just then their hitch hiking lizards took flight off the starboard side.
"In time for what, by the way?"
"That," Ian replied, pointing ahead.
Daniel looked out over the rocky ground, then saw what looked like a dark fog several miles ahead. It was a solid line, stretching as far as the eye could see in either direction and rising up from the ground to form a black wall.
"What exactly is that."
"That is potentially my worst nightmare," Ian replied, pulling the gear bar back completely. "Hopefully not a quick end to this whole trip."
He started below quickly, and Daniel followed.
"You any good with a weapon?"
"What are we flying in to?" Daniel demanded as Ian led him to the weapons cabin.
"The Valley of Fog. Thanks to that little wind storm, we're hitting it sooner than I expected." Ian started pulling odd looking guns from their racks, all sporting sharp arrows like the pistol-sized crossbow he wore at his hip. "If we're lucky, we'll get over it with no trouble." He handed Daniel a larger crossbow with the barrel of a rifle and three pre-loaded arrows. "If not, this could get ugly."
"I'm trained in weapons, but I'd like to know what the hell I'm going up against before I agree to start shooting at it."
"You gonna believe any of it?"
Daniel's jaw clenched slightly. "Do I have a choice?"
Ian nodded. "Okay, come with me."
Back on deck, the bank of dark fog was closer, and black as night. From here, Daniel could see it would reach up nearly to the deck plating of the Myst.
"No one knows what's down there," Ian explained as he checked his weapons. "We're going to fly over it with the engines off, let our momentum carry us to the other side, no matter how long it takes."
"And?" Daniel could see clearly that wasn't the punch line of this adventure.
"And, while we're over the fog, if we let out so much as a sneeze, we're done for." Ian nodded at the approaching darkness. "Something lives down there, in the fog. Whoever or whatever they are, they never come out, and no one who's gone down in it ever comes back."
"Goes down in it?" Daniel looked over the rail at the leading edge of the thick mist. "Is this fog dangerous?"
"Not the fog, just what ever is down there. They hunt by sound. The steam engine, voices, even rigging pulling in the wind. You give away your position up here, and you can expect a rain of arrows like you've never seen." Ian shook his head. "I've seen them take down ships larger than this one. Whole crews, lost in the fog. They can rip open your hull, take out your sail, or set fire to your rigging."
"How is it no one knows who's down there?" Daniel asked, quickly noting how close the darkness was to their bow.
"No one ever came out to tell," Ian replied in hushed tones. "Just keep quiet, pray for a tailwind, and we'll be on the other side in an hour." He touched a finger to his lip and moved forward, leaning over the rail, weapon at the ready.
Daniel shook his head, and would have sighed out loud had the voice inside his head not suggested otherwise. With careful steps, he moved to the rail and looked over the side in time to see the ground vanish in a thick, black smoke.
As the ship glided over the fog, all light seemed to vanish. Above them was a clear sky, but the sunlight fell into the blackness below as easily as dust sucking into a vacuum cleaner. Daniel had expected to see into the mist, or catch glimpses further down here and there, but it was as dark and black as ink, as if the sunlight above simply couldn't touch it.
He looked up, stopping himself just short of asking a question. As if sensing his near faux pas, Ian glared at him, again touching a finger to his lips in urgent command.
Daniel turned his attention back to the fog. Glancing ahead, he could see no opposite shore, and a look along the port bow showed him a solid line of blackness, presumably leading right up against the mountain range in the far distance. He looked down again, straining to hear something, anything that might indicate who, or what, occupied the strange depths.
The ship had gone completely silent, with the steam engine off and the fan's paddles still. Even the rigging seemed to be holding its breath, praying for safe passage. Daniel tilted his head and closed his eyes, trying to focus his concentration downward.
For twenty minutes, the silence was deafening. He tried one ear, then the other, hoping to hear passed the rushing static of white noise filling his mind, taking place of the utter quiet.
Twice he had to stop himself from asking questions, as his own curiosity threatened to burst out of his chest. How anyone could live with such a mystery, and not find some way to learn what was in that fog, was beyond him.
Who lived down there? Why did they fire upon anyone above? Why did no one go in, or come out? How could the people of Ether have such a mysterious and strange spot in their world, without dying to know? Or was that what Ian had meant by people going in and never coming out? Perhaps there were folk who couldn’t stand not to know, who ventured in. But what happened to them?
He was just stopping himself from asking out loud for the fourth time when he heard it, in the distance, somewhere below and to the right. Drums. Not just drums, but chanting, he was sure of it.
Ian must have heard it to. Daniel saw him raise his weapon and look in the direction of the drumming, but he held fire.
Drums meant humans, as did the chanting. So there were people down there, living in the fog. As the ship continued gliding on its forward momentum, the drums and chanting grew louder, but not loud enough for Daniel to make out any words being spoken. He strained to see through the black mist, but no light from camp fires or lamps penetrated the dark.
Carefully, he made his way forward, closer to Ian, but the man again held a finger to his lips, forbidding so much as a whisper.
Daniel bit his lip. If they could barely make out drums, and some distant chanting, how in the hell could those below hear them exchange a whisper? Unless the depth of the fog was deceptive?
It took an hour, and every ounce of willpower the Air Force had trained into Daniel, before the ship reached the trailing edge of blackness.
Ian let out a heavy sigh and leaned against the railing, lowering his weapon for the first time since the strange crossing had begun.
"That was lucky."
"Lucky?" Daniel asked. "There were people down there."
"I didn't hear people. I heard drums and chanting, that's all."
Daniel laughed shortly. "Does Ether have any sort of intelligent primates? Any other animals around here who can chant and make or use drums, or shoot arrows?"
"Nope." Ian pushed off the rail and started below. "Just people."
"So what in the hell do you think we were hearing?"
"Drums and chanting," he replied matter-of-factly.
"So what do you think lives down there, if not humans?"
"I dunno," he shrugged, flipping the boiler back on. "I've never been down there. Like I said, no one goes in there and comes back out to tell what they found."
Daniel blinked.
Ian went back above deck and pushed the gear shift forward, sending the Myst back on their journey under half power.
Baffled, Daniel went to the stern and looked back at the line of black fog. "I don't understand how you, all of you, can live with such a mystery and not care to find out what's in there. Who's in there."
"So you're telling me every spot in Otherworld has been explored? Every nook, every land mass?"
"Yes, it has."
It was Ian's turn to look baffled for a moment.
Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Okay, there are certain sections of rainforest that probably haven't been recorded, except by a few native tribes. And it's not a stretch to imagine the occasional section of remote mountain range in some of the mid-east nations go pretty much untouched. But I can assure you there's no wide swath of black mist that everyone just tiptoes around without exploring."
Ian huffed and turned his attention back to the wheel. "Every inch, huh?"
A quick mental overview filled Daniels mind, mainly a mental image of three quarters of the planet covered in oceans filled to bursting with the unknown. No need to mention that little aspect to someone who didn't know.
"So I suppose you're thinking I made that all up, about the fog, just to see if you'd fall for it?"
Daniel shrugged, refusing to admit he'd been seconds away from that very accusation.
"It's why the hull is plated," Ian replied. "Hell, I didn't even know the place existed until ten years ago, when I traveled over it for the first time."
"Really?" Daniel leaned back against the stern's rail and crossed his arms. "How is it you managed to go that long without knowing something like that existed?"
Ian shrugged. "I lived in the castle, never had reason to travel outside all that much."
"And ten years ago . . ."
He sighed. "Ten years ago, Prince Stefan murdered his father. I accused him to the royal court, had no way to prove it, and had to get the hell out of there before they could lock me up for treason."
"There's gotta be more to the story of Ian Foster than that," Daniel replied. "You were the king's personal guard?"
Ian nodded.
"Okay, so why didn't the royal court believe you?"
"I told you, no proof."
"Did you witness this murder yourself?" Daniel asked.
"No."
"So, what, you saw the prince walk into the king's room, then he came out and the king was dead? You overheard a threat, saw something suspicious?"
Ian huffed. "Yeah, you could say that. I saw something suspicious. So did everyone else who examined the king, they still didn't believe me."
Daniel straightened. "Okay, you saw something. What, exactly?"
Ian glanced at him, shook his head and looked away for a moment, then pointed to his own arm, indicating the inside of his elbow. "There was a mark, right here. Just a tiny point, but it wasn't anything the healers could explain."
"You mean like a needle prick?" Daniel asked, stepping a little closer. "He was injected with something?"
"First, why would anyone prick someone with a needle? What could that possibly do?"
"You know, an injection. Didn't the healers check for poisons or injections?"
Ian blinked. "Why would they? No one injects a human being?"
Daniel held up a hand. "Okay, so how do your healers operate? I mean, when they treat someone, they don't use needles? Syringes? How do you get medication into your system around here?"
"The crystals," Ian replied with a nod of his head toward the hold. "I showed you fire and ice, healers use all sorts of those. They're absorbed into your skin." He shuddered. "I can't imagine someone using a needle to get anything into you. How would that work?"
"There's a hollow -- never mind," Daniel surrendered. "Okay, so they found this small mark and knew it was out of the ordinary. Why didn't that suggest to them there had been foul play?"
"Some of them thought it was an insect bite. Others assumed it was simply nothing, that the king had brushed up against a thorn." He shook his head. "I knew better. That little shit was of age, he'd just turned eighteen and wanted to rule, but his father was healthy and vibrant." He made a course adjustment and glanced off to the starboard side. "I just knew."
"It's not a stretch to figure a son will kill his father for power," Daniel offered. "I'm surprised no one considered you could be right. Did they at least have a way to test for insect toxins?"
"They did," Ian replied with a nod. "They just didn't find anything they could identify. And the thought of the prince killing the king was too farfetched for anyone to buy into."
"Really?"
Ian looked at Daniel, eyebrows furrowed. "Would you?"
"Sure. It happens all the time. History is full of sons killing their fathers to take the throne. People commit murder for all kinds of stupid reasons. Money, power, women, men."
"Things must be pretty different in Otherworld, then. Around here, if you didn't witness a murder, or can't offer up solid proof of a murder, then there was no murder."
Daniel laughed shortly. "Okay, that's ridiculous. That's a tree falling in the forest mentality." Ian gave him an odd look, so he explained. "If a tree falls in the forest and no one's there to hear it, does it make a sound? Which is beside the point here. You can't say that without a witness, a murder didn't take place. Someone gets stabbed to death in a dark alley, just because no one knows who killed the man, he was still murdered."
"Death by intent," Ian corrected. "Murder requires an eyewitness, or someone to offer up a complaint."
"That's semantics. And just plain stupid."
Ian shrugged. "I didn't write the law. But that's how they manage to tell the people of Ether that murders are so rare, and everyone's perfectly safe in the city after dark." He huffed. "Death by intent isn't a statistic they keep, or report."
"Sounds like politics in motion," Daniel concluded. "So how did you get to be a personal guard of the king?"
"It was a fluke more than anything," Ian replied. "I was on guard duty in the courtyard when his daughter, Princess Marabeth, came through. She was five years old, and for some reason took a shine to me and pestered her father. Personal guard wasn't much more than a ceremonial thing, then three years later, the king was dead, his son took the throne, and I don't know what happened to Marabeth. Word was she locked herself up in the church out of mourning."
"So, the king, when he died--"
"It was my day off," Ian replied. "I wasn't in the castle."
Daniel nodded, glad he hadn't had to actually come out and ask.
"Maybe you could explain to me how a healer is able to handle weapons so easily?"
"I was in the Air Force," Daniel explained.
Ian's eyebrow raised.
"The military," he clarified. "Also my father took me hunting quite a lot when I was young." He looked over his shoulder at the blackness they'd crossed. It was nothing more than a line now, marking the distance like a pen mark across a map. "Can I expect more of that type of thing before we reach this castle of yours?"
"What type of thing?"
Daniel gestured aft. "Mysterious black fog. Creatures no one has ever seen before. What else is in store on this little adventure?"
Ian huffed. "Nothing like that, I promise you. We'll be at the forest soon, that's where we'll have to dock the ship and take the rest on foot. Through the forest we just cross a swamp, then through a labyrinth of caves because climbing over them is too dangerous and really impractical. Then we'll be at the royal city. I can get us in through the market entrance, since I do still have a few friends there. After that, we'll have to play it by ear. I really have no idea if, or where, we can find this illusive key to Otherworld."
Daniel nodded, feeling somewhat relieved.
"In fact, why don't you take the helm while I go below and get some things packed for the trek." He stepped aside and waved Daniel to the wheel. "Just keep the same heading. We'll reach the forest in about an hour."
"And we can't just fly over this forest?"
Ian laughed, and continued to laugh as he went below.
"Okay then," Daniel huffed. What the hell good was a flying ship, if you couldn't fly over a forest? Bad enough there was a fog no one had explored properly, though he had to admit, as a kid he'd been pretty upset to learn just how much of Earth's oceans had gone unexplored. No one really knew what was down there, or had made any real attempts to find out other than a handful of the curious. Science was too obsessed with space, what they weren't finding out there, rather than the unknown right at their own front door.
He was still pondering that when he noticed it getting darker. Assuming the sun was passing over the massive zeppelin above, Daniel shook himself from his thoughts and looked ahead.
What he saw put the black fog straight out of his mind.
"Foster, you might wanna get up here."
The forest Ian had spoken of was drawing closer, looming above the ship like a massive wall, blocking out the sun and dwarfing the Myst as if it were the toy on Uncle Frank's bookshelf once again.
"Foster!"
Daniel understood now why they wouldn’t be flying over the forest, as they had all the other trees so far. While the Myst floated a good four or five hundred feet above the ground, he judged the leading edge of the forest to be at least twice that in height. Trees who's girth clearly rivaled that of the average house were blocking the path as far to either side as he could see.
Instinct put Daniel's hand on the gear shaft, pulling it back to cut all forward motion as the massive trunks filled his view.
Just then, Ian came back up from below.
"See that dock on the port side?" He asked, pointing to their left. "Just ease us up beside that."
"Don't you think --"
"You're doing fine." Ian ran forward, grabbing a thick line before jumping up to the rail. "Just a little more."
Daniel wasn't really doing more than hanging on as the dock got closer. The Myst was drifting, easing toward the planking as if by instinct. There were bumpers already set out, ready to cushion the ship as it nestled in against the heavily supported beams.
Ian jumped, landing easily on the dock, then quickly wrapped his line around a large brass clamp. "Good job," he called, waving for Daniel to toss him the aft rope. After wrapping that line around another clamp, he jumped back on board. "I've set some guns and a holster on the bunk in your cabin, you'll want those. Everything else, I've got covered."
"Guns? I though you said that fog was the worst thing we were going to encounter?"
Ian shrugged. "Define worse."
"Define worse?" Daniel blinked. "Listen, I--"
"I'm joking," Ian laughed shortly. "The weapons are just a smart idea, you know? We don't know what trouble we might run into at the castle, and we're leaving the ship behind at this point."
He glared back for a moment, then relented and went to his cabin to collect his things. Ian Foster held all the cards, and he knew it. How well Murphy knew this man was moot, since Daniel had known the sheriff only a day. It made sense if the intent was to kill him, or leave him stranded somewhere, they'd recently flown over the perfect place to do it.
In his cabin, Daniel found two of the handheld crossbow pistols Ian carried, and a holster with room for one of the weapons and a healthy collection of metal-tipped arrows. He retrieved the pack Murphy had loaned him and stuffed one of the guns inside, then strapped the holster around his waist and tied the anchor thread around his right thigh. The gun road low, but perfect for a speedy draw should the need arise.
He checked the pack, then donned the brown leather coat the sheriff gave him and headed back out to the deck, reassured with the knowledge that Foster wouldn't have given him weapons if he intended harm.
Back on deck he found Ian strapping on a pack over his long black coat.
"So how do we . . ." Daniel let his thought trail off as he glanced at the dock, seeing for the first time a trail that led away from the Myst and into the massive forest.
"Follow the path, it's as easy as that," Ian replied as he stepped over the railing and onto the dock. "I know a family in there. We can bunk down with them for the night and trade for some supplies."
Daniel stepped over the rail and into the deck, trying hard not to glance down or up, a motion that would have cemented in his mind just how far up he was and what he was standing on. The ship had felt secure, giving him a false sense of being on the high seas even though he'd known otherwise. But standing on a platform only four feet wide, halfway up a tree that reduced the sailing ship to practically nothing, was dizzying at best.
One quick glance behind them showed the black fog was no longer visible on the horizon.
"How do you see something like this and keep it to yourself?" Daniel wondered quietly.
"No one's keeping this to themselves," Ian replied. He started toward the trunk of the tree holding the dock, following the planked path as it wound around the massive wood.
"I meant my uncle," Daniel replied, hurrying to follow. "He must have seen this. He told stories of huge trees and deep, dark forests. I just couldn't have imagined this."
"Then he didn't keep it to himself."
"I'm not going to spend the rest of my adult life regretting having been a kid," Daniel retorted. "He knew we thought he was making it all up. We were too young to know any better."
Ian shrugged. "You're right, he should have told you. Or brought you here on one of his trips."
The path they were following circled the tree, then stretched out across an open expanse of space, held up by a complex series of ropes hanging from huge branches above. Ian started across, and Daniel paused, taking it all in. The forest was dark, but enough light reached down through the branches to light their way and give a good look at the dirt floor below. He took a deep breath, then stepped forward, onto the bridge. There was no sway or give from the solid wood planks beneath his feet, but the ropes did creak eerily with each footstep.
The bridge stretched a few hundred feet until the next tree, where the planks dutifully wrapped around the thick trunk, braced from below until the next space had to be traversed. Daniel stole glances around whenever they were on the relative safety of a tree's girth, and noted the even, openness of the forest floor beneath.
"Why don't we travel down there? Looks clear, there's no underbrush to cut through."
Ahead, Ian shook his head but continued walking. "It's dangerous down there, too many bugs. Up here there's nothing to worry about other than falling down there."
"You didn't need to add that," Daniel muttered under his breath. "So who built all this?"
"The tribes, they live in the forest, have for generations." Ian pointed to the left. "You can see another network of trails just through that cluster there, and there's another beyond that, and another beyond that. Each tribe holds a separate path."
"And they live up here, among the trees?" He hadn't seen any huts below, and had yet to see signs of habitation in the branches.
"They each have a dock for ships, I just picked this one because I know some of them. Most of the tribes are friendly enough, but it helps to have a few friends here and there, when you happen to have a price on your head from the king."
They'd reached another tree and Ian paused, pulling a canteen from his pack and offering it to Daniel.
"Not that it's a big deal in here. These people don't care for the king or anything else that goes on in the royal court. But you never know who might be passing through."
Daniel took a drink, then handed the water back with a nod. He was just about to ask another question when movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was down on the forest floor, something in the dirt had shifted to the side. Staring down, he tried to find the motion again in the shadows.
"Did you see something?"
"I'm not sure," he replied with a shrug. "So where do these tribes people live?"
"In the trees. The worms hollow them out, just enough to get into the soft pulp in the center, then the people do the rest. You'll be impressed, I think."
"Worms?"
Ian nodded, placing the canteen back in his pack. "Eggs are laid in the trees, then the worms grow by eating the soft innards, until they're adults, then they burrow into the forest ground. The trees survive just fine, though I don't know how."
Movement again caught Daniel's attention. He stared down, pinpointing a section of freshly unearthed dirt. As he watched, a section of earth shifted and raised, growing in length until it looked as if a snake the size of a cruise ship was moving just under the surface.
"What in the hell is that?"
Ian glanced over the edge just as a massive, pink head burst through the ground. It raised up, opening its maw to display row after row of gleaming white teeth. As the head drew higher, Daniel suddenly feared the creature could reach up to their platform, then as suddenly as it had burst through the dirt, the massive body arched and the long, pink creature slammed back into the ground, vanishing under the earth as easily as a whale diving back down to the murky depths.
"Oh, that," Ian shrugged and flipped his pack back over one shoulder. "A worm."
|
