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Authors: Linell Jeppsen

BOOK: Onio
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Onio
nodded and said, “Mel, stay very close now. If we have to run, I’ll pick you
up. I can’t take the time to look for you if you stray.”

I’m
not going anywhere
,
she thought with a shudder of revulsion, and heard Onio chuckle in response.
Nevertheless, he kept a tight grip on her hand as the sasquatches made their
way down the river’s shore. They hadn’t gone a dozen steps when the column
stopped. The sasq stood still and stiff-legged, wide noses querying the
stagnant air. Then, with barely controlled panic, they formed into a circle,
staves, spears and pikes thrust outward in defense. Mel couldn’t see anything
past their wide backs and she couldn’t hear what threatened. She held her
breath and prayed.

Suddenly,
she saw strange shadows on the walls. Long pointy noses, humped backs and
thrashing, prehensile tails jerked and slithered toward them! Then, she could
hear them, as well. Shrill whistles pierced the sasq warrior’s ears, and Mel
almost peed in fear as the sound telepathically warbled through Onio’s senses. It
was rats…rats as large as ponies tumbling toward them in a writhing, seething
mass. They chittered in excitement and their beady little eyes glowed as red as
blood in the dimness. Mel screamed in mortal terror.

Chapter 17

 

The
rats stampeded toward them like berserkers, hissing and snapping, their large
square teeth glistening with saliva. Two or three of them instantly impaled
themselves on the poised spears, but one of the beasts muscled through the
defensive perimeter, squealing and gnawing on the warrior’s furs, weapons and
flesh.

Screams
of pain and rage filled Mel’s senses. She searched frantically for some sort of
weapon, but there was nothing, only a few hefty rocks with sharp edges. She
gathered as many as she could without getting trampled by the sasq warriors, or
having her fingers bitten off by the random rat that made its way through to
the human women inside the protective shield.

There
was an open space, momentarily, and Mel flung a stone as hard as she could at a
rat that was preparing to charge. She crowed with triumph when the rock hit the
rat squarely on the nose. The rat rose up on its hind feet, pawing at the
injury and squealing in painful surprise.

Mel
felt something jab her from behind and whirled in alarm. It was Tanah; with one
hand, she thrust a spear with deadly accuracy at any rat that came within range
and with the other, handed a dagger to Mel. “Take it girl, and defend yourself!”
the queen gasped, turning back to her grizzly task.

There
was some sort of commotion overhead. Suddenly, one of the sasq guards was down,
leaving a hole in the shield. Mel watched, horror-struck, as three of the giant
rats fell upon the sasquatch, attacking his neck, arms and face. There was a
red shower of blood and the sasq warrior lay dead, allowing the rats to feed in
peace. Shaking with fear, Mel flung another missile and one of the rats fled,
hissing.

Within
seconds, the sasquatches lost the advantage of superior size and strength; the
rats were too large and too many. Mel screamed as another guard fell. Suddenly
the rats were everywhere, attacking with impunity. The line broke as the
warriors spread out, slashing, pummeling and stabbing at their frenzied
attackers. One rat charged Mel and she slashed at its eyes with the knife. She
missed, but Wolf’s war-club knocked it flying into the black river. She felt
something at her back and saw Onio, long spear whirling, teeth grinding in
concentrated effort.

Mel
saw Tanah and the guard, Black Pony, fighting back-to-back as well. Mel wanted
to wail in terror as yet another of the sasq warriors fell under an avalanche
of rat bodies. She had no time to watch the sasquatch die however, as a
silver-furred rat lunged at her, foam speckling its bloody muzzle. She raised
her knife defensively and was shocked to see the blade sink into the rat’s
throat and out the back of its head. It hung there for a moment, skewered like
a shish kabob, and then slithered to the floor at her feet. She turned as a
howl of pain filled the air. It was Onio, fighting three rats at once and
losing the battle. One rat seized Onio’s arm in its mouth and was worrying its
way through the furs he wore to the vulnerable tendons and muscles of his arm.

Shrieking
incoherently, Mel whirled around and, not knowing what else to do, hit the rat
as hard as she could on the nose with the hilt of the knife. She saw its eyes
go wide in pain. Then it dropped to the floor and scurried away into the
shadows. A warm, bloody hand seized her arm and Onio shouted, “Mel, Wolf is in
trouble!”

Wolf
was down on the ground, kicking and screaming, locked in a mortal embrace with
one of the biggest of the rats. He held the rats teeth away from his throat but
the animal’s back legs were shredding through Wolf’s furs to the tender skin of
his belly. Other rats were nipping at the sasq’s thighs, legs and feet as the
biggest rat went for the kill. Blood was spreading in a pool around their
fallen comrade.

Onio
grabbed Mel’s hand and ran to his old friend’s side. He seized the fur on the
rat’s neck with both hands but it was like grabbing a giant sack of wriggling
snakes. The rat squirmed and bit, lunging at Onio’s face in fury. Mel let out a
scream and plunged her blade into the animal’s back. The beast flew to the
ground and ran in circles, whining and snapping ineffectually at the weapon. Wolf,
although wounded and bleeding, rose to his feet and set to with his club,
knocking the rats this way and that like bowling pins.

Tanah,
Falling Waters and Black Pony were backing away from a line of advancing rats,
some of which were bleeding and bruised but nevertheless determined to kill
their quarry. Even as they watched, one of the rats gathered itself and sprang
at the old sasq, Falling Waters. He shouted and held his long staff up in the
air, but then a bright green, luminescent beam of light hit the rat mid-body,
dicing it into two parts. The air turned red as the rats body fell to the
ground with a squelching splat.

The
after-image painted the inside of Mel’s eyes green and she heard Onio shout in
alarm, even as another beam of light hit a group of rats threatening two sasq warriors
who were pinned against the far wall. Suddenly, the rats dispersed, their rage
and disappointment echoing back at the astonished sasquatches with chilling
clarity. Still blinking against the brilliant spots of green super-imposed upon
her ocular lenses, Mel saw an old bag of bones approaching. She almost
screamed, thinking that an animated skeleton was coming now to haunt the waking
nightmare her life had become.

“Star
Brothers…you have come!” the old man muttered, waving a long pistol in the air
and cackling.

The
sasq exchanged glances and studied the specimen dubiously. It was an old Indian
man dressed in traditional leather breechcloth, beads and nothing else. The
braids on both sides of his head dragged on the floor, and were liberally
sprinkled with clots of mud, twigs, feathers, spider webbing, and pieces of
colorful but dingy cloth.

His
toothless grin and bugged-out eyes made him appear a lunatic, and his whole
body trembled spasmodically, as if he were in the throes of some eerie,
ecstatic vision. He stared at them in amusement and then burst into a fit of
giggles when Wolf stepped up, snatching the gleaming weapon out of his palsied
hand.

“Who
are you?” Wolf grunted. Mel watched the little old man stare up into the sasquatch’s
face in confusion. She understood, suddenly, that the guard did not really
speak at all. She heard his words telepathically, through the soul song, but
the actual words were not vocalized except through a series of grunts, garbled
vowels and high-pitched whistles. The sasquatches did not have functioning
vocal chords!

She
turned and stared at Onio, who gazed back at her with a half-smile on his face.
“You did not know, Melody?” he asked.

Mel
watched his lips move and shook her head. “No…all this time I thought the sasq were
talking out loud. Do you….” she trailed off in embarrassment.

Onio
smiled and nodded. “I can use speech; it’s the small human in my blood, I
think. Stronger muscles here….” He touched the bruised fingermarks on his
throat and winced. “Normally,” he added.

Feeling
relieved and strangely happy about her discovery, Mel turned to watch the old
man. He was sitting cross-legged on the rocky beach, and asked if the sasq had
any victuals to share. Wolf rolled his eyes and, digging in his rucksack,
produced some jerked venison. The old man grinned, gumming the meat vigorously
and smacking his lips with delight.

Tanah
was staring at the Indian with fear and hope sketched on the lines of her face.
She moved toward him slowly, and when the old one saw her, he winked. “Little
girl,” he said softly, “I see you prosper.”

Tanah
blushed and whispered, “Flying Crow, is that you?” The Indian grinned, stood
up, danced a little jig and cried, “Yes, Tonya, it is me…your old friend!”

Tanah
bent down and gave the old man a gentle hug. The sasq warriors stared at the
two of them in confusion. Tanah straightened and declared, “This man is not to
be harmed. He is a friend to the sasquatch and a life-long friend to me.”

Wolf
and two other sasq guards turned the old man’s weapon over in their hands. One
of the sasquatches tried to poke a button on the handle when Flying Crow
squawked, “Unless you want to blow yourself up, I would not touch that
instrument any more than necessary!”

Wolf’s
eyes got big and he handed the weapon over to the Indian, who calmly placed it
in the tie-string of his breechcloth.

Wolf
turned to Tanah and said, “Mighty queen, would you ask the old man what that
weapon is and how he came to possess it?”

Tanah
nodded and turned to Flying Crow. “Grandfather, Wolf wants to know how you came
to own this strange weapon.” She paused and added, “And I want to know how you
come to be here in the underworld, and how it is that you are still alive after
all these years!” To Mel’s surprise, she saw tears running unchecked down the
queen’s cheeks. Her eyes were huge and for just a moment, she looked like the
small girl she once was.

Flying
Crow grinned and said, “Well, this weapon was loaned to me by the star people…
it is called a sting-ray and it is very powerful. I hope that you will return
it for me?”

Tanah
nodded, wordlessly, as he handed her the weapon. The old man resumed. “As for
my being here, I was invited!” he laughed uproariously. “After so many years
searching the heavens above for answers, I only needed to look at the ground
beneath my feet!” He wiped tears of joy from his eyes.

“Tonya,
the star people are here! They guide us and keep us safe! I have lived among
them for many years. For a long time I stayed young and healthy. Now though, my
soul grows weary. I came up to see Father Sun one more time before I die.”

“Die?”
Tanah exclaimed. “Grandfather, no offence meant, but you were an old, old man
when I first met you as a child! How old are you now?”

Flying
Crow cackled, “I be…I forget, but I must be about one hundred seventy five
years old now…tee-hee!” He walked up to the queen and took her strong hands in
his frail ones. “Tonya, I am glad to see you well. I am also very proud of you.”
He turned to look at her companions. “Stalwart and loyal soldiers since time
immemorial.” Then, with great dignity, he bowed to the sasquatches, the
significance of the gesture only slightly marred by the old man’s palsy. The sasquatches
did not understand the Indian’s words and they stared at him in consternation,
but Tanah, Onio and Mel bowed to him in return.

“Now,”
Flying Crow clapped his hands together once, “I must be on my way. It’s a long
climb, eh?” he chortled, and looking the queen in the eye, continued. “Follow
the river to its root. Once there, you will find a boat. Climb into the boat
and it will take you to where you need to go. Go left and you will find the
star people…go right and you will find your way out of the underworld and close
to the king’s conclave.”

Flying
Crow looked tired now…unutterably weary; still he mustered a smile for all of
them. “Be wary, guards. There are strange things that abide along these dark
waters…giants, freaks of nature, humanity’s castaways. Some of the forsaken
that haunt these hallowed shores will not or cannot see the light, or the humor
of the situation. They will try and kill you if they can!”

 With
those words, Flying Crow stood on trembling legs and began to hobble away the way
they had come. He called out, “Goodbye, Star Brothers! Keep the little humans
safe in your charge!”

Tanah
shouted, “Thank you, Flying Crow. I…I love you!” As an afterthought, she asked,
“Old man, what is the name of this river?”

Mel
heard the old man chuckle from the shadows. “Why, this is the river Styx! Everyone
knows that!”

Chapter 18

 

They
got underway quickly, performing a hasty burial with more guards facing
outward, spears poised, than inward to help sing the death song. They sprinkled
the guard’s bodies with magic water, placed stones over the corpses and walked
swiftly down the pebbled beach. Mel felt like a hundred beady little eyes bored
holes through the back of her neck.

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