The Tower of Il Serrohe (22 page)

Don was relieved that part of the story was over with Nersite and Netheraire now out in the open. But before Nersite could go on, they heard excitement at the far northeastern edge of the Place of Homes. Among the diminutive Nohmin was a tall slender figure.

Don initially thought he was going to see his first Soreye, but as they came nearer, he saw the figure had short, light brown hair and smooth, tanned skin, not the scaly sheen Nersite had described. Also, the Nohmin clustered about the figure were laughing and talking excitedly.

Definitely not a Soreye.

Nersite laughed and looked at Don expectantly. “This is great! Here comes Raquela of the Pirallts.”

forty one

Raquela’s large almond-shaped eyes looked over Don. She stood at his height but smaller boned. Her ears were long, coming to a slightly rounded point at the top. If Don had really believed in this experience, he might have concluded she was an elf. But her quiet beauty reminded him of someone he knew, though he couldn’t recall who. There was definitely something familiar about her, but fanciful thoughts of elves didn’t enter his mind.

She extended a long fingered, delicately boned hand. He shook it gently noting her firm grip and cool skin.

“
I’m Raquela of Piralltah Steeples,” she said. “I’m told you are our first visitor from the Rio Grande Valley in a couple of generations. Welcome.”

She appeared to evaluate his demeanor, evidently figuring he was damned well confused and didn’t need more information right now.

Don struggled for something to say. “So… well, thank you. I take it you
know
about my valley and how…”

“
Yes, my great-great-grandmother was Pia. I trust you know of her?”

“
Yeah, my new little friend here, Nersite, told me a story about Pia and sister Pita—and Teresa from my own valley.  And the bat—”

“
Good, then we can talk. But first, I’m hungry after that long walk from Piralltah Steeples. I left before dawn.” She gave Nersite a look that indicated she was ready for some piping hot Nohmin stew.

As if waking from a deep nap, Nersite smiled. “Of course, I can rustle up something.”

Don didn’t want to take his eyes off Raquela. He tried to back away a couple of steps, but she still held his hand. “Why don’t all of you go on down?” he suggested. “I’ll get some fresh air and see you later.”

Raquela looked offended, but shrugged. Releasing Don’s hand, she slipped away into the roomier portion of Nersite’s root home.

This may be another side effect of my delirium, but who cares; she’s damned good looking though a little too tall and cool in her response to me. We’ll see…

A few other Nohmin followed Nersite and Raquela into his root home while the rest milled around glancing sideways at Don, who pretended not to notice. “Any of you know where I could get a cold beer?”

The Nohmin lost interest and drifted away. Don looked down Nersite’s hole and wondered if he could handle going back down there. But by the time he decided to try, Raquela emerged appearing calm and more approachable.

She looked at Don for a long moment. “I am told you were brought here by Nightwing, our reluctant ally from Lookgosee.”

“
Yeah, well that mouse with wings wasn’t reluctant to lure me here with some bull… some story about how you need help and I was the one to do it. Look, no offense, but I’m not looking to be some kind of hero, especially in middle of delirium tremens.”

“
I don’t know what that is, but we’re not asking you to be a hero. We just need someone who can deal with the Soreyes. We don’t understand what they’re capable of and Teresa was pretty smart.”

“
So what? I’m not Teresa. Don’t want to be.” He noted the strong disappointment in her eyes though her face and posture revealed nothing of her mood. He tried to be patient because he realized this very exotic,
tall
woman
didn’t deserve his attitude. After the disaster with Bess, he wasn’t really in the mood for a relationship although a fling wouldn’t be a bad idea. Maybe.

“
Look, I’m just not what any of you are looking for. Besides, you don’t have beer. Your way of life is strange and this is all a big hallucination. I’m talking to figments of my tortured imagination. Too much hurt, shock, and not a little alcohol has sent me screaming and whimpering into this delusion to protect me from going flat-out insane. Save your breath and don’t tax my alcohol-induced imagination. Leave me alone to destroy enough brain cells that I won’t hurt anymore.”

Raquela’s disappointment turned to a combination of sympathy and sorrow. “I’m sorry. This seems to be a bad time for you. We thought with your heritage, you could possibly be of assistance—”

“
What the hell’s my heritage got to do with it? The real influence in my life was my worthless shit—sorry—father. To escape him and his fate, I got a good education so I could make a living working with my mind, spout off in front of students who couldn’t question much, and get extended time off. I didn’t want to work my ass off doing highway construction like my dad. Though he did appreciate a good strong bottle of wine or beer and could carry on a pretty damned good discussion on the pointlessness of the universe.”

Raquela stared into Don’s eyes. “We’re not impressed by your attitude. There is a purpose here for you. We don’t expect miracles, just someone who can understand better how the Soreyes think. We of the clans of the Valle don’t plan well; we know you can. If you want to leave, go ahead.”

“
Seeing how there aren’t any bars or beer here, I think I will. This is an interesting story, but fantasy bullshit—sorry—isn’t my preference. I’m hoping my next delirium will be more erotic and less detailed and… weird.”

Don turned to go, but then realized he didn’t know where to go.
How does one escape a hallucination and return to reality or, at least, change delusional narratives?

He was pointed more or less north. Scanning the horizon he saw the Soreyes’ Tower off to his immediate right and what looked like the Himalayan-sized Manzano Mountains to the far right. He had a feeling these were not
his
Manzano Mountains.

Somewhere down in the valley, he recalled, was the Portal. If this nightmare was going to be consistent, he needed to go back there to pass back into the real Rio Grande Valley.

Raquela stepped beside him and pointed between the Tower and the distant mountains. “Down that way is the path you came up. You should recognize the Portal as you head down to the valley floor. I will send Nightwing to meet you there, so he can assist you to pass through the Portal.”

“
Thanks,” he said, somewhat subdued. She
was
nice and patient with him—as she should be since she was a figment of his twisted imagination.

Her clothing was formfitting like a dancer’s body suit (reminding him of the young women in dance classes at the college), but it appeared to be more like a thick tawny fur than a textile with its shifting highlights of black on the surface. Her skin was almost the same tone as the body suit giving her an almost nude look though the details were hidden. He briefly wondered how she would look naked.

No, forget it. Just get out of here. You can have horny wet dreams later—devoid of this complicated situation.

“
Maybe I’ll see you in another dream,” Don said with a sly grin.

“
Sorry, this is the only ‘dream’ I live in,” she said, ignoring his suggestion. As she turned away he noticed a curious white pattern covering her nicely shaped butt.

Dismissing that, he headed in the direction she had pointed.

forty two

Near the edge of a ridge overlooking the Valle Abajo, Don came to a cleft through which he figured the narrow path wound to drop steeply to the valley floor. As he started to pass through it, two tall figures appeared on either side above his position.

“
Well, well. What is this?” said a gravelly voice.

Don looked up at what looked like a couple of cartoon basketball superstars. They were very tall, slender, yet muscular, while one had light skin and the other was dark. Yet both had a slimy green iridescence to their complexion. Their faces had the hollow look of vampires minus the fangs.

Soreyes!

“
Sorry, if I’m trespassing. I don’t want any trouble. I’m leaving here, so tell me how to get down to the valley and you’ll never see me again,” Don said as nonchalantly as he could muster.

The gravelly-voiced one looked over at his companion. “You’d think he was trying to be unsociable, wouldn’t you? Now why would we want him to leave when he’s just arriving?”

He looked back down at Don like a wolf getting ready to settle onto to a tasty rabbit sandwich. Both figures started down the steep sides of the cleft.

These guys didn’t seem like persuasion was going to be effective. Don dashed toward the cleft to run down the trail.

He never had a chance. With inseams of over forty-five inches and plenty of conditioning climbing the path to and from the Soreye village, they quickly overtook his pathetic attempt at escape.

Accompanied by a cacophony of jangling bells, they grabbed him by his arms and hoisted him into the air like a worn-out scarecrow. His twisting and yanking were to no avail.

“
What a funny little guy. Looks like a short So-Rye, but not very friendly. I think he needs some good hard slaving to bring him around. What do you think, little guy? Want to do our bidding or would you prefer to get your butt whipped?”

“
Do I have a choice?” Don spat back.

“
No, but we’re trying to give you a break since you are more like us than the rest of the vermin in this shithole valley.”

“
Oh good, someone who enjoys colorful profanity. You’ll know what I mean when I say, ‘kiss my ass, butthead!’”

At that, the gravelly-voiced Soreye slung Don to the ground face first.

Don didn’t return from the black hole of unconsciousness until he found himself thrown headlong into a dirt pit.

Every bone and muscle screamed in pain as he groveled in the soggy mud, trying to get his feet under him so he could stand. He was packed in with an assortment of others. Most were odd-looking individuals except one who looked enough like Nersite Don realized he must be a Nohmin.

Everyone was muddy, sweaty, and smelly. Don wasn’t repulsed because he realized he was as much a mess as the rest of them.

This must be a holding pen for slaves.

“
Dammit! Let me the hell out of here! I don’t have a quarrel with the Soreyes. Let me go! I’m not from around here!” he cried to a handful of Soreyes looking down on the captives.

The gravelly-voiced Soreye laughed, took a slug of water from a pottery vase, and spewed it all over Don and several others. “We don’t give a shit where you’re from; you look like a good piece of slave meat. We’ll get you a bath later so get some rest. Nighty, night.”

With that, a huge solid wood door was dropped over the opening of the pit, leaving the whole stinking lot of slaves in sweltering darkness. Screaming exploded from everyone, including Don.
Not in a hole with all these sweating bodies packed like trash in a compacter!

The whole group thrashed about, hitting and stepping on each other in their desperation to escape. As claustrophobia overwhelmed Don, he realized his excursion into Nersite’s root home had been a gentle admonition in comparison to this.

He jumped, grabbing at the barely visible overhead door in the darkness. Before falling back, he felt rough-cut cross planks that held it together. He jumped again, grasping ahold of one with a death grip. He hung just above the clamoring mob. Some of them started climbing, using him like a human rope ladder.

“
Get the hell off, you fuckers!” he yelled flinging them away. “This is my deal, my attempt at escape. Find your own way!”

He kicked with both legs and punched with his left hand, but his muddy right couldn’t hold his weight and he crashed down on the smaller ones who had latched onto him.

He fought them off and jumped again getting a better grip. “Stay the hell away from me!” he yelled.

Suddenly, the big door swung up taking Don with it. He hung on for dear life, only releasing his grip as the door was flipped over on its top. Then, he was standing on the door, the glaring light of day stabbing through his eyes like daggers. He fought to clear his vision, still seeking to escape, but no such luck.

Behind him came the pungent odor of burning wood, he figured from a fire the Soreyes had for warmth against the chill of the fall day. The entire universe slammed across the back of his head and he sank into a black pool of silence thicker and slimier than the muddy floor of the pit.

When he again pushed himself into consciousness, he was aware of a screaming headache. Opening his eyes, he slowly realized it was a cool moonlit night out on the plains.