Where Serpents Strike (Children of the Falls Vol. 1) (37 page)

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Authors: CW Thomas

Tags: #horror, #adventure, #fantasy, #dragons, #epic fantasy, #fantasy horror, #medieval fantasy, #adventure action fantasy angels dragons demons, #children of the falls, #cw thomas

BOOK: Where Serpents Strike (Children of the Falls Vol. 1)
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“Taighfinn Torinfinn Deelyous,” Nash
repeated.

“And if you are being a true Efferousian you
say the
ah
at the end: Deelyous–
ah
.”

Nash pointed to the crude wooden slingshot
sticking out of Ty’s back pocket. “I think that clue is for me.
Stoneman helped me make a slingshot like that from a piece of
driftwood we found in the ravine.”

“So you need to go to the ravine then?”
Preston asked, running a hand through his long sweat-drenched
locks.

Nash shrugged. “Apparently.”

Brayden hurried into the glade, a horse’s
leather bridal swinging about in his hands.

“This is what I found,” he said, skidding to
a stop next to the others. “I have no idea what it means.”

“You’re not supposed to,” Broderick said.
“Remember what Khalous told us? Only the first clue was for us. The
next clue is for someone else.”

Brayden examined the bridle once again. “I
think this is the bridle for that gray speckled mare, Shini.”

“I just helped Brother Cassius shoe her two
days ago,” Preston said.

Brayden passed the brown leather bridal over
to him. “This must be for you then. I just hope you’re right. We’ll
get penalized if you’re not.”

In Preston’s hands was a necklace that
belonged to Ariella. She had lost it two moons ago and Brayden had
been the one to find it.

“She probably has your last clue,” Preston
said, handing the necklace to Brayden.

Nash had found a whetstone, which no one
knew what to do with until Clint stumbled into the glade, limping
and out of breath.

“I sharpened kitchen knives on that thing
all afternoon with Lorne, remember?” Clint said, taking the
whetstone. “Bloody nightmare, that was.”

“Clint, your clue must be for me,” Broderick
said.

“How do you know?”

“Everyone else has theirs. You’re the only
one left.”

Clint shrugged. “I, uh, I didn’t really find
anything. Well, just a, uh, a note. Yeah, a note.”

“A note?”

“Yeah, it said, ‘The Whispering Cave.’”

Broderick swallowed nervously and hoped none
of the boys noticed his hesitancy. “Where is it?”

“How am I supposed to know? I’ve never heard
of a whispering cave.”

“No. The note, dumbass.”

“Oh. Uh, it blew away with the wind.
Sorry.”

Nash spun toward Broderick. “I know! That
cave north of the road. Remember when we explored it and the wind
sounded like hissing or whispering inside.” He looked at Clint.
“You were with us, weren’t you?”

“Oh, right. Forgot.”

Broderick knew what cave they were talking
about all right. He just hoped they were mistaken. Perhaps the clue
was really intended for someone else.

“That could be a clue for any of us,” he
said.

“It has to be for you,” said Nash. “The
slingshot is definitely mine, and the whetstone isn’t for anyone
except Clint.”

Broderick felt a chill run down his
back.

“We better hurry,” Brayden said. “Khalous
wanted us all back before the noon bell.”

Broderick turned south. He sprinted through
the trees, bounding over rocks and logs and plowing his way through
underbrush, ignoring the brambles that raked across his skin and
tugged at his clothes. He turned west toward the trail that
connected Halus Gis to the Border Road.

He followed the ridge along the road until
it sloped down into a wide gully that ended at the rocky opening of
a hidden cave.

Broderick slowed to rest and regarded the
entrance for several moments. He hoped he wouldn’t have to venture
too far inside.

“This is stupid,” he muttered. “Figures that
Khalous would give this task to me.”

He moved down the slope toward the cave’s
opening. After a brief search around the entrance that yielded no
obvious clues, he stooped down and took a few steps into the
darkness. The air was damp and cold, and carried the faint whiff of
cucumbers. He paused to let his eyes adjust to the light.

He wondered if perhaps he could decipher the
clue without having to find it. Why had Khalous left a note that
directed him to come to the Whispering Cave? What was the
significance of this location? The others had known instantly what
their clues had meant, but no matter how hard he thought about it
he couldn’t figure out why Khalous had sent him here.

He looked down, noticing the ground was
smooth as though something large had been dragged through the
area.

The cave widened and dipped downward,
plunging into an oblivion of darkness.

Broderick stopped and exhaled in defeat.
Whatever Khalous expected him to find it wouldn’t happen without
torchlight.

“Damn the stones,” he muttered. He knew he
didn’t have the time to go find a torch. He would have to return
empty handed. Consequently, the boys would fail their test.

Broderick turned to leave. Then he paused.
He despised the thought of losing.

He glanced over his shoulder, wondering what
lay deeper in the dark.

Frustrated over his own indecision, he
growled, turned in a huff, and started further into the cave. With
careful footing he worked his way down the slope. The ground was
steeper than he realized. He moved slow at first, but soon found
the loose gravel sliding out from under him. He leaned back to
catch himself with his hands, but his feet slipped forward. He lost
his balance and tumbled down the incline. Darkness surrounded him.
Rocks cut into his knees and elbows as his body twisted and
rolled.

He landed on his chest, his face bouncing
off something warm and leathery.

Then the object moved.

Startled, Broderick yelped and scurried
backward.

Something hissed, a hoarse wheezing sound
that filled the rocky chamber. In the blackness he saw nothing
except a few glimmers of the distant light shining off an animal
unfurling in the dark.

Broderick scampered up the slope, hands
clawing at the dirt, toes churning on the gravel in a mad dash to
reach the top. He heard the creature behind him shifting its weight
on the ground. He could only imagine its size, which sounded
immense.

Halfway up the slope he heard the creature
inhale an aggressive rasp as though it had finally caught sight of
him. He figured his surprise entrance into its lair had startled
the beast, but now, having overcome its initial shock, it was
preparing to strike.

Panic filled him as he continued his
frenzied escape.

He heard the creature crawling out of the
cave behind him—the drag of its belly along the ground, and the
metallic scrape of its back on the stony ceiling. It’s sheer size
filled the rock tube. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed a
pair of large serpentine eyes glinting in the dim light.

A surge of adrenaline pushed Broderick up
the slope. He crested the rise and raced toward the mouth of the
cave.

The creature roared again, husky and
angry.

Broderick exploded from the darkness into
the hazy white light of the forest. He dashed through the
underbrush, taking several sharp lashes to the face by leafless
brambles. He ignored their sting, ignored the pain from the cuts on
his knees and elbows, and surged through the woods.

When the creature roared again its sound was
distant, but no less angry.

He risked another glance over his shoulder.
To his relief, he saw nothing but trees and brush.

Still, he refused to stop. His fear wouldn’t
let him.

He sprinted until he was heaving
uncontrollable breaths that made his lungs burn. A pulled muscle in
his stomach forced him to slow his pace. He ran north toward Halus
Gis until exhaustion began to creep over him. He became aware of a
pain in his left ankle that made him limp. By the time he passed
through the southeastern gate of the monastery he was moving at a
slow jog.

Khalous was waiting in front of the barn
with Brayden, Nash, Preston, Clint, and Ty. They were laughing and
talking, showing off the items they had claimed. When Khalous
noticed Broderick his expression filled with concern and he hurried
toward him.

“What happened?” he yelled.

Broderick dropped to his knees, gasping for
air.

“Are you all right?” Khalous asked. He took
a knee next to Broderick, his barrel-like torso leaning in close to
him. “Where were you?”

“The cave,” Broderick breathed, “I was in
the cave. Something.” He shook his head, not knowing how to explain
what had come after him. “Something big. Basilisk. I don’t know. I
didn’t want to look at it.”

“Basilisk,” Ty said, his voice filled with
awe. “To even look at a basilisk is to die.”

“That’s pig’s slop,” Clint said.

“What cave?” Khalous said. “Why were you in
a cave?”

 

Broderick pointed to Clint. “The note. He
said the note said to go to the Whispering Cave.”

Khalous looked at Clint. “What note? You
should have given him the broken hinge to the dormitory door that
he helped me repair.”

Clint shrugged. “It was just a joke
man.”

A new surge of adrenaline swept over
Broderick, one of rage and vengeance. “What?”

“You’ve won too many of these games,” Clint
said. “I wanted to throw you—”

Clint went down the moment Broderick’s
knuckles connected with his face. He dropped down on top of him and
tried to hit him again, but Clint’s arms were up over his head.

“Get off me you motherless sow,” Clint said.
“It was just a joke!”

Clint managed to shove Broderick away and
kick him in the shoulder.

“All right,” Khalous said. “That’s
enough.”

Clint’s fist caught Broderick in the eye,
sending fireflies through his brain. A moment later Clint jumped on
him and delivered a hail of blows that cut Broderick’s lip, made
his nose explode with a thousand needles, and his head lash back
against the dirt.

“Stop it!” Khalous shouted, reaching for
Clint. He yanked him to his feet. Clint twisted out of his grasp,
lost his balance and fell on his side.

Broderick took advantage of Clint’s prone
position and slammed both feet into the right side of his head,
tearing off the bottom of his earlobe with the heal of his boot.
Clint wailed.

“What is going on here?” shouted an
all-too-familiar voice

Pale hands pushed between Brayden and Nash,
revealing Prior Gravis in his brown robe. He took one look at
Clint’s bloodied ear and his eyes went wide with horror. He knelt
to calm the screaming Clint.

“Khalous, I’ll have none of this violence
within these walls!” Gravis yelled.

Broderick jumped to his feet and thrust a
finger at Clint. “Serves you right, you idiot! I almost got killed
because of you!”

Gravis helped Clint to his feet. He pointed
the young man in the direction of the chapel and told him to go see
Ariella. Then he turned to face the captain, disdain etched upon
his pale face. “Khalous, I tolerate your violent training so near
to our monastery, but I will not allow this kind of enraged
bloodshed on these holy grounds. Now I must insist—”

Khalous lifted his hand toward the prior.
“If you’re going to reprimand me I ask that you not do it in front
of the boys.”

Gravis looked peeved, but collected himself,
and said, “May I speak with you privately then?”

“No.” Khalous pointed to Broderick. “You.
Follow me.” He turned and stomped toward the barn, his shoulders
hunched like some miserly creature.

Broderick followed him, limping on his
twisted ankle and clutching the sore muscles in his stomach.

In the barn, Khalous patted a squat milking
stool and told Broderick to sit. He obeyed without protest,
relieved to finally be able to rest his aching legs.

The large three-story barn had been their
home since arriving at the abbey. With the dormitories full of
women and children, the duktori had allowed them to take refuge in
the barn’s loft.

“You’ll get extra chores for that,” Khalous
said.

“What? What did I do?”

Khalous went to a leather satchel and
removed a small glass bottle of ointment and a rag.

“You’re brash and foolish and too much like
your sister Lia.”

Lia. Broderick hadn’t even heard her name in
months. The memory of her pinched his heart.

“She thinks with her emotions, too.” Khalous
pulled up a second stool and seated himself next to Broderick. He
uncorked the small bottle, which contained a rancid smelling
liquid. He poured some of it onto the rag. “Emotions aren’t a bad
thing. But when we don’t keep them in check, they sting.”

The rag felt like fire when Khalous touched
it to the cuts on his arm. Broderick tried to pull away, but the
captain held him in place. The burn only lasted a moment.

Khalous continued treating his cuts.

“I have a hard enough time convincing the
leaders of this place to let me train you here. I don’t need you
flying off the saddle every time someone makes you angry.”

“Clint sent me into the cave on purpose,”
Broderick said. “He tried to get me killed.”

“Your cousin is a moron, not a murderer.
He’ll be reprimanded strongly, don’t you worry about that. I’m
trying to get you boys to work together as a team, to trust one
another, but you just keep acting like a bunch of buffoons.”

He handed Broderick the bottle and told him
to finish covering all his cuts with the antibiotic.

“I need to go have a chat with your cousin,
and then that insufferable Gravis.” He walked from the barn in an
irritated huff.

Both Broderick and Clint were banished from
the dining hall that night, a punishment neither of them cared
about anyway. Eating with the solemn priests and strict nuns was
becoming a chore all in itself. For those like Broderick who much
preferred the freedom to fidget and talk and make rude bodily
noises, the barn was a much more fitting place to eat.

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