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Daniel followed Ian out the front door and along the suspended path toward a gathering of men and teenage boys on a central platform. They were both wearing sturdy harnesses sporting several brass clips on the shoulders and back, and carrying heavy shotgun-sized harpoons.
After introductions to more people than he'd ever remember meeting, they began a twenty minute trek along a side path between two tribal path lines. It was explained to him along the way that the worms responsible for hollowing out their massive tree homes abandoned the wood when they reached adulthood, then burrowed into the earth and lived out their days feeding on rotting plant matter, forest creatures, and every now and again a hunter or traveler who hadn't paid close attention to their footing.
The latter was followed by a ripple of laughter throughout the group and Daniel played along. He'd been taken on plenty of hunts as a kid, with his father's friends all vying for the chance to frighten the young, inexperienced boy.
The worms, as it turned out, were very good eating and the source of the red meat Sara had served them for dinner the night before. One good sized creature could feed an entire tribe for a month, with each family head taking a turn at the honorable front position. That was when he realized Ian and he were the only armed members of the entire hunting party.
He'd been about to ask why the others were along, if not to aid in the killing, when they reached another wide platform with several branches and multiple levels of smaller, two-man sized stations. Hanging from the huge branches above was an intricate network of ropes and lines, each one terminating on another platform. Four large rope ends dangling just above their heads, each ending in a heavy brass lanyard.
"These," Ian explained. "Are the ropes."
Daniel stared down at the ground, a good four hundred feet below. "You've got to be kidding me."
Laughter rippled through the crowd as the men disbursed, taking up positions on the various platforms in pairs. Someone was clipping the brass lanyards to the metal loops on his harness, while someone else had opened up the thin railing keeping travelers on the suspended path.
"It's easier than it looks," Ian was explaining. "We go down, worm comes up, these guys pull us out of harm's way while we harpoon dinner. Then they haul it up here and we all get busy carving it up."
Before he could stop it, someone pushed him off the platform. Daniel gasped as he found himself hanging from the lines, swinging slightly back and forth.
"Ready?" Ian asked through his wide grin.
"Oh, hell no!"
Daniel didn't mind the men laughing. He didn't care that he was now playing the role of green newbie to the hilt, since it was clearly giving the rest of the hunting party a good laugh. They were lowering him several hundred feet down to a forest floor where monstrous, presumably man-eating worms with teeth swam through dirt, and all that stood between him and a swift ending was a toothpick-firing rifle and an idiot.
"You are fucking kidding me!"
Funny how he could no longer hear the laughter, now a hundred feet above.
"Relax. No one dies hunting these things, not with those guys on the lines," Ian assured.
"You're lying, aren't you?"
He shrugged as best as he could inside the safety harness. "Okay, no one's died doing this while I'm around."
"And you've been on how many of these hunts, exactly?"
"This is my third."
Daniel wondered if it would really count, being eaten by a worm in a land that didn't really exist. "Okay, okay, so tell me exactly what to do. This is no time to leave out important details, like don't look it in the eyes or something."
The ground was close enough now to see detail, and approaching rather rapidly. Ian hefted his harpoon, and Daniel noticed a line had been attached to the end. He glanced at his and found a similar one.
"We're going to stand down there and wait. We'll hear the worm coming, and they're watching us from above with a telescope."
Daniel looked up. He hadn't seen anyone carrying a telescope, but at this stage he couldn't exactly argue the point.
"When the worm is about to breach, they'll heave us up. All we have to do is fire these into its open mouth."
"Into its open mouth?" This was a joke, had to be. Probably just like the fog.
"The tips are explosive, they'll kill the worm almost instantly. Then we just haul it up before another one comes along to eat what we just killed."
"Oh this just gets better and better," Daniel muttered.
The time for arguing was gone, as was the window of opportunity to politely back out of this entire hunting fiasco, as his feet touched the dry earth and the lines let out some slack. He gripped the harpoon tightly, glancing around the quiet forest floor. It was beautiful, he had to admit, but the sheer girth of the tree trunks obscured the view in many directions. They'd ended up in a sort of clearing, with space between trees forming several narrow alleyways. Daniel had no idea if the worms could travel beneath the tree roots, or if they'd be safe enough concentrating only on the open spaces, but he wasn't about to open his mouth to ask.
"You don't have to be so quiet," Ian said. He'd started moving around a bit, taking a few steps to the left, then the right. "This isn't the black fog. The worms can hear your heart beating."
"They what?" Well that wasn't going to be a problem now, as Daniel was convinced his had just stopped. "You said we could hear them coming?"
"Yeah, usually." Ian was looking to the right, so he didn't noticed the glare Daniel sent his way. "I mean, the really big ones, you can. If they're smaller, you might not get too much warning. Especially if they're traveling a tunnel, and not just burrowing straight at us through hard pack."
Daniel nodded, but it was more a nervous response than any sort of understanding. "So, we kill the worm, then what? They pull it up to that landing up there?"
"That's the idea," Ian replied. "When a worm slams the ground, like you saw yesterday, it's generally a challenge to any other worms in the area. They'll all come runnin' to see what's up, and we don't want to be down here when they do."
"But I didn't see anything up there big enough to put one of those things on."
Ian shook his head. "Can't get it up, not all the way. When we kill it, the boys will string it up, get it about halfway, just out of reach if a really big fella comes along, then we'll do our carving while it's hanging. Once the meat is harvested, the rest is dropped for the other worms to feast on. No sense wasting anything."
Something rustled a few yards ahead, and Daniel's heart caught in his throat as a bird took wing with a loud screech. "Jesus," he breathed.
"No," Ian corrected. "Worm."
It sounded like a train. A distant rumbling that was more feeling than sound, and approaching quickly. He heard the roar before his feet registered the tremor. The rest was a blur of shouting, adrenaline, something huge and pink and ugly, and the sensation of being on a runaway elevator defying gravity.
Daniel saw movement, just before his harness was pulled sharply upward, and he distinctly heard Ian tell him to aim down but hold his fire, but everything stopped moving when he saw the massive pink maw open up just inches below his feet. The worm had come straight up from underneath them, like a shark doing an end-run on a surf board. As he was whooshed back upward by the lines attached to his harness, the worm's mouth opened up below him, exposing row after row of sharp, black teeth.
He was practically standing on the worm's lower jaw when Ian shouted.
"Fire!"
Instinct brought his harpoon around, and he fired into the gaping mouth just as Ian had. Seconds later there was a muffled explosion, and the worm arched its back, then fell backwards, landing on the forest floor with a reverberating thud.
"Holy crap."
Ian was heading back down, and ropes were falling from the sky all around him. Daniel looked up to see several members of the hunting party shimmying down the lines with large brass hooks dangling from their belts.
He was on the ground again, standing unsteadily beside a wall of pinkish flesh and disturbed ground. Ian gave him a slap on the shoulder.
"See, you were a natural hunter."
"If you consider survival instincts being a natural hunter," Daniel replied. He had to lean forward to catch his breath and try to slow his heart rate back down to something more life-sustaining. "That was all too fast for my tastes."
The hunting party were swarming the massive beast, securing it with their brass hooks and wrapping lines around the smaller, more narrow tail section. Within minutes they had the worm secured and heading up into the air.
"Our part is over," Ian said as he glanced up at the men above. "That's the honor of being the leads on each hunt. They'll do the carving."
Daniel felt his harness tug again, then both he and Ian began a gentle ascent, traveling back up just yards ahead of the worm. While they were hauled all the way up to their starting platform, the worm was stopped about a hundred feet short. Daniel watched with no small sense of fascination as the hunters lowered themselves on ropes and lines, and began the sweaty work of carving up the meat and packaging it into cloth packs which were passed around the group and handed to the younger men to carry back to each home.
"Here, a souvenir to remember your first worm hunt." Ian handed Daniel a large, black tooth.
Daniel stared at it in wonder. The thing was a least six inches long, and almost that in width, with a bit of fleshy pulp still attached to the root. If it hadn't come from the massive worm now hanging from the ropes in ghoulish pieces, he would have sworn it had come from some kind of prehistoric shark.
He nodded, slipping it into his pocket. "Thanks."
"You're a good sport, I'll give you that," Ian replied. "Isn't he, Mike?"
One of the members of the hunting party who'd been introduced as Tom's older brother, gave out a hearty laugh and slapped Daniel on the back with a massive hand. "That's for damn sure!" He hefted a bag-full of fresh meat over one shoulder. "I thank you for taking Tom's place on such short notice."
"You're welcome." Daniel would have added that, had he been given any real idea what this hunt was all about, he would have refused, but they were preparing to drop the carcass now amid plenty of hoots and shouted commands.
They all turned to watch as lines were moved, ropes were adjusted, then an order was given and the hunters released their grips simultaneously. Daniel watched with morbid fascination as the fleshy remains plummeted to the ground. Almost the instant it hit the dirt, worms pressed through the surface, surrounding and devouring what was left of the massive creature.
Within ten minutes, there was nothing more to see but a few lingering, circling pink bodies.
"Do the worms stay in the forest? They don't venture out over the valley or the farmlands or anywhere?" Daniel asked as they all began the trek back to their individual homes.
"No one's ever seen a worm outside the forest, as far as I'm aware," Ian replied with a shrug. "Of course, no one knows what's in the fog, but to get there they'd have to burrow through the valley and it's pretty rocky ground."
"I wonder if there's something about the quality of the dirt?"
"Huh?"
"I'm just thinking out loud," Daniel replied. "This place raises so many questions. Everywhere I look, there's something else that I've never experienced before. Guess it's the scientist in me, always curious."
Ian huffed. "You know what they say about curiosity."
"I'm not a cat."
"What?"
"Curiosity killed the cat," Daniel said. "But I'm not a cat."
Ian turned to look at him as they walked. "They say curiosity is the curse of the restless mind." He shook his head. "I don't know why they'd say that about cats." They made a turn onto another path while the majority of the hunting party took other routes back to their homes. "If Otherworld really is where you came from, then it must be a pretty freaky place."
"Compared to here?" Daniel laughed shortly, then thought about it for a moment and shrugged. "Okay, to an outsider, maybe parts of it."
"Uh-huh."
"I mean, it's all based on what you're familiar with, isn't it?"
"What is?"
"Life," Daniel replied. It was an odd conversation to have, but he found he'd been doing a lot of this kind of thinking over the course of the last few strange days.
Before he could elaborate or even ponder the issue further, they'd reached Tom's home with their packs of worm meat and tale of victory. Ian spent the evening meal elaborating on the details Daniel didn't even remember from his shocked mental state. All he could recall was a sense of foreboding, his legs shaking violently, a huge gaping mouth filled with all manner of nasty, sharp teeth, and the walk back.
Tom laughed heartily as he sat in front of the fire with a glass of heated amber alcohol. "That sounds so much like my first hunt. I was thirteen, and even though I'd been on the ropes since the age of ten, and I knew what to expect, it's just not the same until you're down there, on the ground, with that harpoon in your hands." He sipped his drink, smiling with a remembered experience. "In fact, just between us, I don't mind saying I very nearly soiled myself when that worm broke ground right beneath my feet."
Ian chucked. "Not this guy. I think he would have held his ground had those ropes not pulled him out of harm's way."
Daniel shook his head, one hand raised in denial. "Don't mistake bravery for being frozen in my tracks with fear."
The two laughed, but from the kitchen, Sara waved a carving knife at them all.
"Never underestimate the power of fear, you three," she scolded. "You men get all high and puffy talkin' about things past. But when your feet are in the fire, it's fear of burning that keeps you alive."
"You're absolutely right, Sara," Daniel replied, raising his glass toward her. "Instinct and fear are often mistaken, one for the other. But I don't mind saying I was scared to death down there. Those worms are huge."
"That one was pretty decent sized. Show him the tooth."
Daniel pulled the sharp, black incisor from his pocked and passed it to Tom, who whistled appreciatively.
"That's an adult, for sure. You did me proud, son. I'm grateful for your help." Tom held the tooth up for his wife to see from the kitchen.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, let me boil that clean for you." She came around the bar counter and fetched the tooth, tsking at the sight of the meaty pulp hanging from the root. "I'll get this clean so you can show it to some nice lady without turning her stomach." There was already a pot of water still hot on the cook surface, so she plopped it in and turned the flame back on. "Do you have someone back home in Otherworld, Daniel?"
"No, actually, I don't," he admitted with a shrug. "There were a few women over the years while I was serving in the military, but nothing serious."
"Well, I wouldn't worry if I were you," Sara assured. "You're still young, you have an admirable profession, and you're quite a looker."
"Now, now," Tom protested.
"Oh just calm yourself, old man," she teased. "Everyone here knows I'm smitten."
Ian laughed lightly and raised his glass in a toast. "To the great worm hunter!"
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The next morning Sara and Tom saw them off after a hearty breakfast and more thanks. Sara stuffed as much smoked worm meat as she could fit into Ian's pack, and gave Daniel the souvenir tooth she'd not only boiled clean, but added a leather strap to. He wasn't convinced it was safe wearing such a large, sharp object around his neck, but obliged out of courtesy.
It rested over his shirt, just below the hollow of his throat, and shimmered in the filtered sunlight of the forest as they started down the path. Their trek took them through the heart of the village, so nearly every tree they rounded was occupied by someone who'd sent a family member on yesterday's hunt.
Stopping to accept praise from the other hunters and awe from the younger children who wanted to touch his worm tooth delayed their journey several hours, but by late afternoon they'd ventured beyond what Ian called the last of the occupied lands and made good time following the suspended planks toward the promise of open land.
"I assume there's no ship waiting for us on the other side?" Daniel asked after Ian informed him they'd be clear of the forest in less than an hour now.
"No, no ships," he replied. "There are pleasure craft used on that side, but they stay closer to the castle, and never venture out over the swamp."
After what Daniel could now term his successful and exciting worm hunt -- so labeled thanks to the fact that it was in his past, and he'd retained all of his limbs and important bits -- he could admit to a growing fascination with this mythical land he was trekking through.
He almost hoped it turned out not to be a dream after all.
"Okay, I'll ask," he ventured as they rounded another tree trunk. "What's this swamp like?"
"You don't have swamps in Otherworld?"
"Sure, we have swamps," Daniel replied. "We have swamps so big entire cultures form around them. But something tells me swamps here in Ether are going to prove a whole lot different."
Ian paused, glancing at Daniel over his shoulder on the narrow path. "I wouldn't know anything about different." They rounded another tree, this one much smaller in circumference than the others, then he came to a stop and waited for Daniel to catch up. "Are they anything like this?"
Daniel stepped around a knot in the tree trunk and came up beside Ian, following his gaze. Just beyond some branches, he could see the landscape opening up, shimmering with the early evening light. He was looking at a vast area, dotted with what appeared to be dry land, forming small islands amid vivid blue water. There was some type of plant growth poking up through the pools, that thickened the further he looked, obviously creating the swampiness of the land they were about to cross over.
From their height, he could see for miles, and noticed trees of a much more standard height, thick grasses, pools of water here and there and the glimmer of moist ground. A slight mist still lingered over the area, and probably thickened with the falling temperature.
Daniel nodded. "Yeah, sure, a lot like this. Some of them, anyway."
"Good. Then you'll know what to expect."
Ian started forward, and Daniel realized their path had come to an end at the top of a spiral staircase. The steps had been carved out of the trunk of the smaller tree he'd just walked around, circling it until they reached the ground several hundred feet below. Daniel's vision swayed just a bit at the thought. He gripped the outside railing, thankful someone had thought to include it in the carving of the stairwell, though he did notice Ian ignoring it completely.
"So tell me about the swamps in Otherworld," Ian said as he wound around the tree.
"Well," Daniel found he had to hurry a bit to keep up, but he never let go of the railing. "There are several types, I think. I mean, first you have your average little swampy area, or wetland as the environmentalist call them. Those are just watery areas, sometimes in a forest or open field. More like small ponds, really."
"Then they're not swamps," Ian concluded.
"Okay, maybe not technically," Daniel admitted. "There's also a large section of Florida, called the Everglades, but if you're getting technical you'd probably call that an estuary, not a swamp."
"What's a Florida?"
"A state." Daniel had to take a few steps two at a time to close the gap to one more conversation-friendly. "The country I'm from is divided into states." He waved a dismissive hand Ian couldn't see. "I can explain all that later."
"But you do have swamps?"
"Okay, sure." He knew full well Ian wasn't going to know the difference, or be in any position to call him on inaccurate details, but Daniel found himself wondering if he really knew his world as well as he'd assumed. "In the south, there are swamps. Deep and dark because of all the trees and overgrowth. Not many people live around those areas, but those who do can be very wary of strangers." He realized then the most he knew about swamps were from photos and the many images he'd formed in his mind, from art and literature. He could picture a low, white mist over ground so damp as to suck booted feet down greedily, with tall grasses and creepy, dark trees who's branches arched down like skeletal fingers.
But he'd never actually seen one.
Ian reached the bottom of their long climb and slid the pack from his back. "So basically you're familiar with swamps then?"
"Well, yeah," Daniel shrugged, feeling somewhat safe in that assumption. Swamps were wet, probably a bit steamy, and he assumed he'd come out covered in muck.
"Good." Ian dropped his pack and glanced around. "It's too dark to start in there now, so we'll camp here."
Daniel paused at the bottom step. "Here?" He looked back into the now-dark forest.
"There's no worms, not at the border," Ian supplied. "Just hang out here and I'll get some drift for a fire."
Daniel nodded and forced himself off the last step. "Hang out here." He carefully removed his pack and set it on the dirt, hoping not to make too much noise. "I can do that."
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