The Hunter (30 page)

It was decided that they would circle along the left-hand side of the lake for that was the side closest to the outer world.
It could do them no good, nor did there appear to be any cracks in the walls such as they had seen in the deep tunnel, but
still the thought that only a thickness of rock separated them from the world they knew, a world of sunshine and free-flowing
wind, comforted them in this black of stifling darkness.

Once more Beast took the lead, prancing along on his leather-shod paws as though it were merely some pleasurable afternoon
jaunt. The trail was wide enough for two people to travel side by side and was flat, smooth, and free of broken rock. Braldt
could only wonder at the fact that none of the others seemed to notice that it had not been created by a flow of molten rock
as had the tunnels, but had been chiseled and worked by clever hands. Surely Batta Flor would notice, but no, the Madrelli
appeared to be
unaware of the difference even though he had dropped to all fours and was loping along at a comfortable pace, something he
rarely did in the sight of the Duroni as though he feared that traveling in such a manner might somehow make him more animallike
in their eyes.

Braldt studied the powerful build of the Madrelli and marveled at the strength contained in that body. Had it not been for
the Madrelli, they would all be dead now.

Allowing Beast and Batta Flor to take the lead, Braldt allowed his thoughts to wander, wondering what they would do when and
if they were able to reach the chamber. Could it be true, all that Batta Flor had told them? Braldt had never been much of
a believer and while he had bent his knee to the Moon Mother a part of him had always remained apart. But now, to learn that
all of it was a hoax perpetrated by beings from another world… it was hard, even for him.

Braldt began to wonder what else might not be true, what else they had always taken for granted that might not be as it had
seemed. It was a disconcerting thought. Why did Batta Flor stare at him so when he thought that Braldt was not looking? He
would have had to have been blind not to have noticed the way that many of the Madrelli reacted to him, staring at him as
though they had seen some nightmare appear in the waking world. And then, after they had gotten over the first shock, they
seemed to study him, to watch him as though expecting him to do or say something, he knew not what. And yet he knew without
asking that they would have denied it had he confronted them.

Occupied with his own thoughts, Braldt did not at first notice that the others had come to a halt and were crouched at the
edge of the trail, peering into the dark water.

“What’s the matter, is there a problem?”

Keri turned worried eyes upon him. “Batta Flor thinks that he saw something move in the water, something alive.”

“Couldn’t be,” Braldt replied. “That water’s too hot for anything to live. It’s just imagination.”

“Perhaps,” replied Batta Flor, his tone troubled as he stared down at the silent lake. “But I would have sworn that
I saw something move. Look here, Braldt, this is no sign of an overactive imagination!”

Moving to his side, Braldt stared at the ledge where Batta Flor’s shaking finger pointed. There, from the very edge trailing
down into the water was a silvery slick much like that which a land snail leaves behind to mark its progress.

“Look, look over here!” called Carn, his voice pitched high with excitement. He was on his hands and knees leaning out over
the water at a place where the ledge had crumbled or broken away, leaving a small inlet. Carn turned toward them, holding
something out on the palm of his hand. They rose to go to him and then, out of the dark gloom, a long, slender object rose
up behind Carn and wavered for a moment as though hesitant. The three of them stood in shocked amazement, unable to speak
or move. Then, even as the thing descended with lightning-fast speed, they began to scream and run toward Carn, drawing their
swords and daggers. But it was already too late.

Even as Carn cocked his head to one side and peered at them in bewilderment, the thing was upon him. It was a coil, a living
fleshy coil, although to what or whom it belonged was impossible to know. It wrapped itself around Carn, pinning his arms
to his body, and then before he could react, or they could reach him, he was jerked off the ledge and dragged beneath the
surface of the dark lake. Huge bubbles erupted and foamed on the surface as the waters heaved and lapped over the rocky trail.
And then, slowly, the turbulence subsided and though the waters still rocked and a tiny trail of bubbles burst upward, there
was nothing more to be seen.

Keri’s screams echoed off the stony walls as she clutched her head and called out her brother’s name again and again. Batta
Flor and Braldt brandished their swords and strode back and forth on the narrow ledge searching the dark waters for a sign,
a hint of the attacker. But there was nothing to be seen; the beast, whatever it was, had come and gone and taken Carn with
it.

Scarcely had they left the beach behind when the dark
water exploded in a flurry of white froth and rising high above the surface was a writhing welter of tentacles that darted
down toward them with the speed of a striking snake. Keri cried out as the tip of a tentacle struck her a painful blow on
the shoulder. She wrenched free even as the flexible tip coiled around her arm, tightening perceptibly in the instant it had
her in its grip. Multitudes of fingerlike protrusions wriggled and reached toward her all along the grey-black length and
she pressed herself against the wall, shrinking back from its reach.

Braldt and Batta Flor responded instantly, striking out with their swords, hacking at the thrashing coils that flailed the
air on all sides. The flesh was hard and resisted the bite of the blades, causing them to rebound with an impact that shivered
up through the muscles of their arms. Luck and desperation taught them swiftly that glancing blows were deflected, and that
only direct, blade-on blows were able to penetrate the tough flesh. Again and again they struck at the creature, cursing when
it grabbed hold of arms or legs or bits of their bodies and defending each other and Keri as well. Keri recovered quickly
and, seizing the opportunity to avenge her brother’s death, attacked with a fury that even Braldt did not know that she possessed.

One, two, and then four and more of the limbs were severed from the body and fell into the water, still wriggling as though
they had a separate life of their own until they sank beneath the turbulent water. The creature began to shriek then, a piercing,
mind-numbing wail that all but drove them to their knees. Unable to bear the terrible sound,
they pressed their hands against their ears, swords clattering to the ledge or drooping from nerveless fingers.

Fortunately, the beast was suffering torments of its own and could not take advantage of their helpless state. Two heads were
clearly visible, snakelike with fleshy protuberances like those of land snails bobbing from the front of a formless, bloblike
head. Both mouths were stretched wide, emitting the terrible noise as the heads to which they belonged hurled themselves back
and forth and side to side, keening with pain. Suddenly one of the heads uttered a terrible cry of rage and lunged forward,
mouth agape, straight for Keri. The jaws closed around her body, engulfing her from shoulder to knee, and then jerked her
roughly from the ledge.

Keri screamed and twisted within the creature’s grip, attempting to free herself. Still holding her short sword, she began
stabbing at the beast’s mouth, penetrating the upper palate with her blade. The beast bellowed with pain and outrage, never
for a moment releasing its grip on her body, but shifting her about in its mouth as though trying to find a hold that would
not hurt quite so much.

Braldt seized the opportunity, the only one he would have, and jumped onto the creature’s head, wrapping his legs around its
neck and holding on to one of the fleshy antennae. Surprisingly, the beast was covered in a layer of slime that made it all
the more difficult for Braldt to keep his hold. The creature did not seem to notice that Braldt had climbed upon its body,
perhaps distracted by its pain and the difficulty of holding on to its prickly prey.

Viewed from such close proximity, Braldt was able to see that the thing was covered with lumpy, warty flesh, greyish black
in color. Tiny openings located atop each lump secreted a constant ooze of mucus that Braldt suspected protected it in some
way from the heat of the water. There were two eyes, tiny and insignificant, buried deep in the warty flesh. Clamping the
slippery antenna tightly between arm and forearm he leaned forward and slashed at the creature’s eyes, and was immediately
rewarded by an agonized bellow of pain. The mouth opened wide, streaming
blood, and Keri plunged into the water only to be seized by Batta Flor and dragged back onto the narrow ledge of rock.

Beast leaped up and down in a perfect frenzy of gnashing teeth and rolling eyes, threatening at any moment to fall into the
water himself as he attempted to bite the monster. A tip of a tentacle thwacked the ledge next to him and he was on it in
an instant, seizing it in his sharp teeth and ravaging it from side to side. Although not a serious threat, perhaps it served
as a momentary distraction, which was good, for Braldt was hanging from the monster’s head, dangling from the slimy antenna,
more than twenty feet above the water.

It seemed as though the two heads were independent of each other, for even though the first head was streaming with rivulets
of blood, the second head did not seem to notice but appeared to be far more interested in locating the source of its pain.
Even now it was snaking down on Beast, mouth opened wide, ready to snatch him from the ledge when Batta Flor, choosing his
moment carefully, stepped forward and brought his blade down across both pairs of the tiny eyes, blinding it as thoroughly
as Braldt had maimed the first head.

The thing screeched aloud in double agony and flung itself backward into the water. Braldt was shaken loose from his precarious
hold and hurtled into the watery maelstrom, still gripping his sword.

The water churned violently as the beast rolled about in agony, its many limbs crashing about, flailing both air and water.
The water was whipped into whitened froth and heaved about like storm-tossed waves, and those clustered on the narrow ledge
were unable to catch any glimpse of Braldt who had disappeared from sight. Just as they were growing desperate, Braldt’s head
broke the surface of the water and a hand groped for the edge of the rock.

Batta Flor and Keri reached for him with glad cries and dragged him out onto the rocky walk where they all drew back and watched
as the last of the creature slid beneath the water leaving behind a swirl of mucus and blood.

They remained on the ledge for some time, too shaken
by their near demise to either continue or retreat. Nor were either of their options comforting. If they retreated, there
was really nowhere to go, other than back the way they had come. But to advance was to advance into the unknown. It was quite
possible that they would encounter other monsters of the same sort and that the next time they would not be so lucky. Or it
was possible that they would find even worse things waiting for them.

In the end, they went on for they could not go back, too much was depending upon them. Despite the shrinking number of wax
cubes left in their pouches, all three torches were lit to hold back the oppressive darkness, and they plunged ahead resolutely,
walking at a swift pace, forcing themselves on along the narrow ledge, deeper and deeper into the heart of the mountain, farther
and farther away from the light of day.

Eventually, the ledge grew wider and more irregular and it soon became apparent that it was now a natural formation and the
ledge that had brought them so far had been carved out of the rock, enhancing the natural passage, although they did not know
to whom or what it allowed access. Was it a well-traveled path, and if so, whose feet had trod it last? Was it possible that
the hard ones had made it or were there still others whose presence could only be guessed at?

It was an unsettling thought and one that for the time would remain unanswered. Then, just as they were growing too weary
to continue on, the wall opened wide before them, revealing a huge hollow bulge on the mountain’s flank. The stone ledge gave
way to mounds of the fine black sand that cushioned their weary limbs as they collapsed as far from the dark water as it was
posssible to get.

It was soon discovered that Carn had carried a goodly portion of their foodstuffs as well as the torch cubes and now both
supplies were running dangerously low. They made a rough Camp and ate their brief meal in silence, too exhausted and dispirited
to speak. They posted a guard and took turns sleeping, although whether it was night or day
they could not have said, nor did it matter, for locked inside the eternal darkness of the mountain, time had become an all-but-meaningless
measure.