Chapter 7: The Blue Shimmering Giant

The Annals of Ghalensa: The Power to Remake

Chapter 7: The Blue Shimmering Giant

         The fire bludgeon lay silent and lifeless against the condemned slave’s skull. Zin Corvi felt his face tighten in horror, even before Vax Drizzol realized the failure of the execution. His perfect plan to win Drizzol’s esteem and favor dissolved before his eyes. The condemned slave still writhed in his bonds very much alive. He had to do something quick.

         Drizzol howled in disgust, flung the fire bludgeon into the air over the gathered throng, and wheeled on Corvi who braced himself to face Drizzol’s snarling rage. Mayhem hit the front ranks of wörlics, scrambling in a morass of panic to avoid the spinning fire bludgeon as it fell into their midst.

         “Dis be rare,” he said backing away from Drizzol. “Not happen much.” He motioned to one of his guards, “Get fire bludgeon now.” His quick, decisive action might appease the Vax.

         He slammed into the rock wall. The jarring impact sucked the life out of him. He fell prone to the platform and strained to raise his head to assess the damage. He could not move. The scene swam before his eyes. The first several ranks of wörlics had been cut down like weeds before a sickle. Drizzol lay unconscious or dead a few paces away, with his sage, and two of his guard mangled next to him. The fire bludgeon must have exploded.

         He reeled wildly. A horrendous, screaming wail rang in his ears. Blood dripped from his nose and from somewhere else he couldn’t tell, maybe an eye. He felt the “thump, thump” of feet landing just beyond him on the wooden platform. Someone had jumped from the rock outcrop overhead. The figure was a blur, a blue blur. The whole desert spun madly. He pushed his eyes back open, forced them to focus, forced himself to stay conscious and understand what unfolded before him.

         The figure clarified into a blue, shimmering giant, racing toward the condemned slave. One of the shimmers. A female, he noted, by the shape of her head. He reached for his dirk, or thought he reached, but his limbs refused to answer. He felt no part of his body save pain in his right shoulder, neck, and head.

         The shimmer made the execution post in two long strides. With a swift, skillful motion, she cut the bonds from the wrists of the condemned slave. The explosion had not touched him. How had she shielded him? With her zoid?

         She yelled something into his face, grabbed his arm, and shoved him toward the rock wall, pointing upward to the top of the abutment. Aud Izar missed no step in exploiting his change of fortune. He leapt upon the wall and deftly climbed away. The shimmer turned to follow.

         The desert air was cut by another loud wail which pierced its way through his screaming ears. He grinned, consoled. It was the magnificent battle wail of a wörlic throng rising together to fight its foe. The dawning would still be theirs. The better part of an entire throng of wörlics, along with the Vax’s special guard and his own guards, would give chase to the assailant and slave.

         Up the shimmer went after Izar, the advantage of her surprise now gone. Several dozen warriors rushed the platform. They pursued her up the rock wall. She wouldn’t get far.

         Another explosion rocked the throng. A warm mist, thousands of tiny droplets of blood, caressed Corvi’s face. The scene faded as he slid toward unconsciousness. His screaming head, the battle wail, and the sounds of pursuit all merged into one voluminous roar as the darkness beckoned him. Blackness closed in despite the fact that his eyes were still open. A strange comfort washed over him as he drifted off. Even the sounds melted away. He smiled, or thought he did, content, somehow, that he would find a caged shimmer and wörlic slave before him when he awoke.

*      *      *

         Aud Izar cared nothing for his rescuer, only that he should get away. But still, why did it rescue him? It didn’t matter. He was not dead. Far from it, now. He felt more alive than he ever remembered. An incredible surge of energy coursed through his veins as his heart pounded within. He fled across the jagged plateau toward an outcropping. There must be somewhere to hide in the jumble of jutting rock. He ventured a glance back.

         The shimmering thing was behind him and gaining. The warriors were farther back. How had it survived the rushing throng and made it up the rock? What was this thing and what did it want with him? He had to get away, away from the crazy Gozi wörlics and away from this creature chasing him.

         The giant pulled up next to him, making pace, and called out, saying, “Dis way.” It pointed over toward a crevice and darted off toward it. He followed for a few steps, decided against it, and shot back off toward his original destination. More than a dozen Gozi pursued as others continued to pour over the top of the abutment. The ground in front of the lead group burst up into their faces, throwing several of them aside. The blue creature pointed at them. Five bright flashes shot from its hand and two more Gozi crumpled into heaps on the ground.

         Others continued to gain. One of them threw a knife that dropped short of his heel. Too accurate for his comfort. He was better off with the giant. It seemed to be his only choice for escape from the Gozi. More of them poured over the crest of the rock to join the chase. He swerved back toward the crevice.

         His chest heaved in pain as he sucked for air. The surge of energy eluded him. His legs were now like heavy sacks of grain. Each step burned hotter. He would never make it. The warriors were more conditioned.

         “Dis way,” the voice came out of nowhere. He cocked his head. The giant was again right beside him. How had it gotten there? A long spindly hand goaded him toward the crevice. He didn’t need the coercion, though. He had made up his mind. He was already on his way. He would take his chances with the giant rather than with the angry throng.

         He pressed on. He had an ally. An unknown ally, but one nonetheless. His ally produced a tablet-like slab of stone from its side and began to tap the tablet with its fingers. There was urgency in the precise motions. Another ground burst erupted in front of the lead Gozi warriors, again slowing their chase. The gap between them and their pursuers had widened. He gave a last surge of strength as they topped the edge of the crevice. A gaping hole lay before them at the base of a jutting rock.

         “Slide,” the giant pointed into the throat of the hole, a mouth in the desert waiting to swallow its prey. He flung himself feet first into it, sliding quickly down on loose rock and sand. The mouth funneled into a narrow, slanting chute that disappeared into the darkness below.

         The giant followed, pushing more loose rock and sand all over Izar’s head and neck. After twenty to thirty paces of sliding, they came to a stop on a flatter surface in the dark belly of the hole. Sucking cooler air, he looked up the chute toward the mouth. Billows of dust obscured the sky. The giant shimmered brighter down here in the dark. He could see its long, multi-jointed fingers dancing away at the face of its tablet. Some small, colored orbs along the edge of the tablet began to glow. The giant then brought forth a glowing yellow orb. The thing had six long, curved fingers cupped around the sphere which it now held out toward the opening of the tunnel. A stream of yellow light flowed up the chute and disappeared.

         A number of Gozi warriors threw themselves at the mouth of the hole but were deflected. They toiled there, swinging madly at some invisible shield that now covered it. Izar understood. It was something of the power of the Tree. The Ancients had brought the Tree from their realm, and with it, the power it gave them.

         Blue giant be Ancient with Tree power. He thought. What does Ancient want with me?

         He plopped his head back to the ground in relief. The Gozi weren’t coming down for him anytime soon and his ally was an Ancient. His gasping slowed as he took time to catch his breath. He wanted to close his eyes and rest.

         “Follow me,” the Ancient said.

         It sounded female, or at least what he thought should be female. Beside that, the back of its head was rounded. He once learned in a tale that male Ancients had spiked ridges on the back of their heads.

         Ancient be girl. Girl Ancient be in land. Why did Ancient save Izar? Dis be very strange.

         The orb vanished back into her cloak and the tablet into a leather sack at her side. She held a bluish, oblong stick before them to light the way. It was not very bright, but it did the job. She crouched low as she moved through the small passageway. Izar followed. He could almost walk upright in the tunnel.

         The Ancient led by six or more feet. She adeptly moved through the tunnel, even being cramped. He was glad for the help. She had saved his life. But he wanted more answers. She hadn’t explained anything yet and he was blindly following her through some caverns forty feet or more below the Gozim desert. What was this all about? It was rude, if not deceitful, for her to lead on without an explanation.

         The light disappeared as she slipped sideways between some shadows. He stopped. The darkness pressed on him. There wasn’t a sound. Where had she gone? He clenched his fist. What kind of game was this?

         Out of the black silence, light flooded his eyes, inches from his nose. The light stick seemed brighter this close.

         “Skeenah fith houth zarshelkun th’ss thoshuna.”

         He jerked back from her hissing face. The reddish circles of her eyes stared blankly. There was no pupil. There were no eye lashes or eyebrows. Her nose was only discernable by the two narrow slits where it should be, and the tight, beaked mouth had no lips. She spoke common wörlic before, but why the foreign tongue now?

         “What mean dis?” He shook his fist in her face. “I go no more if no answers.”

         “Why dey want to kill you?” she demanded.

         Her slender forked tongue slipped in and out of her mouth. His eyes widened, but he forced them back to normal. He knew she was an Ancient now. The tales told of their forked tongues which had always fascinated him. Whoever thought that he’d be talking to one, let alone looking at one. They were all just tales before.

         The Ancients were many things. They were the task masters of his ancestors, sires of the hated jennah, bringers of the dreadful Tree of power, ruiners of the land of Aralon, and powerful overlords to be feared. The last known Ancients in the land were from a different age, back before the Seasons of Desolation. No one from the Otherworld had visited Vikzyrn until the recent arrival of the shimmers, who he heard were related to the Ancients. Maybe this had something to do with them.

         He pointed his three fingers up into her face, “Tell me what mean dis first.”

         “I saved you,” she said. “You be dead by now. Tell me first, you owe me return.”

         She knew of the return. She had him. No wörlic could ignore the honored bond. She saved his life. Only a proper return would release him from his debt. Until then, he was obligated to serve her requests.

         “Me Izar. Six seasons ago Gozi stole me in raid. I was Slor Izar Wen-Salic of Oleczi clan. Gozi made Izar slave. I became Aud Izar of Wen-Zydan of Hixzol. Always did duty. Served by law. Some Hixzol sneaked in. Jealous of Izar’s master, Slor Fregrin. Dey slew him and blamed me. I ran. Want to kill me for slaying and running. Did no wrong. Me be good wörlic with honor.” He thumped his fist into his chest in salute.

         “Me Deth-Maru,” she bowed. “Left Ghalensa two seasons ago. Not go back. On my own. Roam your land, look for answers. Hide in caves. Camp here for two dawns. I see what going on by sea. Find you ready to die. Thought you were Tender. Did not know why Tender here. Save you to find out.”

         He laughed. His insides lurched, even hurt, he laughed so hard. He couldn’t hold back. Relief flooded him. She had no specific reason for rescuing him, no ulterior motive. He’d imagined all kinds of reasons. He thought maybe a group of Ancients waited for his capture so that he could be made into a Tender, or something like that. Here she was roaming alone, looking for her own answers, and had no good reason to rescue him other than mistaken identity and her own whim. That was hilarious. Especially after all he’d been through. He laughed gut deep and it felt good. Deth-Maru rasped her hissing laughter too. He figured she was as relieved to be alive as he.

         Maru hushed him with a wave of her hand, “Must keep moving. Talk as we go.”

         “Must go back to my people.” He stated. “Oleczi need me.”

         “Must get away from Gozi.” She reminded him. “Follow me until make return.”

         “Return is for wörlic peoples, not Ancients. Will follow if I want to. No big trust for Ancients, bad to my peoples. Not sure wit you. We Get away from Gozi, then I leave. Go back to Oleczi. Must go. Oleczi need me.”

         He needed to get back to the Oleczi clan. There were some things he’d learned about the pact with the shimmers and this Rezkelion that he had to get back to his people. But was it worth sacrificing his honor by slipping away from Maru and avoiding the return? What was honor to him now? He ran away from being a slave. That was already a dishonor. Even though he was not guilty of slaying Fregrin, he broke the bond of a slave. How could he ever overcome that disgrace? Would the Oleczi even receive him? He had to tell them what he knew.

         “What be strong need to go to Oleczi?” Maru asked.

         He thought for a moment that maybe he shouldn’t tell what he knew, but then thought that it wouldn’t hurt to let her know. Maybe she would release him of his return.

         “Me know Drizzol’s plan to deny Parziaks new land in War of Revenge. Parziaks no trust pact wit shimmer, Deth-Rez–”

         His heart jumped into his throat. He knew the name. Deth-Rezkelion, Deth-Maru. Nothing came to mind. He stood frozen.

         “No worry,” Maru’s empty hands shot up before him, palms out, to show she was not a threat. “No harm. Not with Deth-Rezkelion.”

         Shock turned to anger. “Name. What mean your name?”

         “Deth-Rezkelion hate Deth-Maru, runt sister of clutch. He rebel from Ghalensa. Wish to rule over all. Use wörlics to beat jennah, den get rid of wörlics.”

         “Izar knew Keethon Pact no good. Deth-Rezkelion liar. Must tell Oleczi. Oleczi will stop Vax Drizzol, will stop Deth-Rezkelion.”

         “Why will Oleczi stop them?”

         “Izar thought Deth-Maru Ancient, but Deth-Maru shimmer. Why Deth-Maru run from her people?”

         “No Izar, Ancients, Providers, shimmers all the same thing. Different names for my people. Deth-Maru not called Ancient. Maru a Provider. Shimmers break away from Providers because Providers dishonor “Deth” name. Providers hide secrets from past. Maru come to Vikzyrn to seek past, to find answers, and to find what shimmers do.”

         He nodded. “Brother calls peoples of Keethon Siah shimmers from Otherworld. Why change name of peoples? Izar confused.”

         “Rezkelion hates past of Ancients and Providers. Wants to make his own way.”

         “Understand. Wörlics hate past of urlani. We made own way. Why Maru leave Providers?”

         “Maru seeks answers. Now you tell Maru why Oleczi stop Rezkelion.”

         “Yes me,” he said, “other wörlic peoples, Orvyn, Furaji, Gozi, no like Parziaks. Say we be Tender-kin, slaves of Ancients, we look like urlani. They be always against us, fight us most. Parziaks agreed to pact wit other wörlics for clan honor only. I tell dem truth, Parziak sages will see lies, will fight against pact.”

         “Why will they believe you? What proof?”

         He smiled at her broadly as he stared up into her big eyes. Pointing his three thick fingers at her, with his thumb straight up, a wörlic gesture of conclusion, whether she knew it or not, he said, “You be proof.”

 Next  "Chapter 8: The Dagger"