Root (23 page)

A burning grew in my chest. I roared with
frustration. I wanted those pesky roots to turn to jelly. To my
surprise, jelly they became, plopping me down on the floor of the
tunnel in a sticky pile of goo.

Lille sent flaming arrows flying into the
beast as quickly as she could string them. They accumulated in its
hide until it looked like some hideous birthday cake.

“
Get up! Get up!” said Bern, batting
away another hurtling whisker.

When I tried to rise, I flopped back down. My
muscles were useless.

“
Crawl if you must,” said Lille.
“Just get away. Don’t worry about us. You’re the one it
wants.”

As I crept along the tunnel floor, Berne and
Lille kept the creature at bay. The beast altered its shape,
becoming blunter and stockier, filling the breadth of the tunnel. A
hard, brown cuticle accreted on the tender pink tips of the
tentacles. Its hide thickened and expelled Lille’s
arrows.

I managed to stand and stumble towards the
junction. Bern and Lille retreated up the tunnel with me. We backed
away, cautiously. Bern steadied me with his free hand. The tunnel
floor was still, but it felt like I was crossing the deck of a
heaving boat.

I swooped down and plucked a root from the
floor thinking I would make myself a battle axe. I envisioned the
nastiest double-edged weapon I could imagine as I passed my hands
over the root, but it remained pretty much a root. One end
stiffened to create a handle, but the other end stayed limp, like a
stubby whip.

The creature gathered its tentacles and
groaned. Bumps like goose pimples projected from its hide and
swelled into thick, horny plates that darkened and thickened into
an exoskeleton. The whiskers swelled at their tips to form blades
and bludgeons. It bellowed and lunged. My nostrils filled with its
stench.

“
Run!” said Lille, her arrows
deflecting off the beast’s new armor.

As we reached the ledge, the tunnel wall
ripped open just beyond the leftward junction. Karla burst out,
wielding a long, slender sword. A wiry Asian fellow followed her,
bearing a long pole, hooked and spiked at both ends. A blond woman
with a thick ponytail brought up the rear. She wheeled a sling over
her head and flung a stone that whistled between us and slapped
into the body of the Reaper, exploding like a grenade, causing it
to recoil back down the tunnel.

“
Heh, heh!” said Bern. “Astrid’s
always had a way with munitions.”

Karla and the Asian leaped off the ledge,
sword and staff adding to our defenses. She looked askance at the
partially modified root in my hand.

“
Fighting Reapers with such a sad,
little whip? Are you stupid?”

The beast surged forward, swinging bladed
whiskers at our heads. “Duck!” Karla’s sword flashed high and
severed the tips. The pieces slapped against the ledge and crawled
away.

I looked at her, stunned. She had just saved
me from a scalping, or worse—a beheading.

“
Go! Run!” she said. “Why are you
waiting?”

“
My legs … don’t work
right.”

“
Oh, Madonna. Do we have to carry
you?”

Another flight of bladed whiskers came winging
in. Bern and the Asian batted them away, but a recoil nicked Bern
in the leg. Slashes in his trousers exposed pale skin smeared with
blood that seeped and glistened on the dark fabric. Lille knelt to
attend to his wounds, even as he fought.

“
For goodness sakes, Lille, can’t
you wait until we’re out of here?”

“
It is okay,” said Karla, stepping
forward with her sword, brandishing it at the Reaper. “The monster,
it is staying back. It knows we are strong.”

I staggered to the ledge. Bits of severed
whisker, still alive, grew attentive as I approached and came
creeping after me.

“
What the hell?”

“
No worries.” Lille came to my side,
pointed at one and set it aflame. “They can’t hurt you. They’re
just pests.” She stomped on another as if it were a
roach.

Bern limped over to the ledge and grimaced as
he attempted to climb. The blonde woman took his hand and helped
him up. I went next, feeling clumsy, like my legs had fallen asleep
and not completely woken up. Lille gave me a boost.

“
It’s changing again,” said
Bern.

“
What now?” said Lille.

A long, disgusting snout-like thing evaginated
from its gullet.

“
What is that?” said the blonde
woman.

“
Oh dear Lord!” said Bern.
“Something to fire projectiles with, maybe?”

“
We need to go,” said Karla
scrambling up the ledge and taking the lead in the retreat. “It is
not going away. I think it has anger now. We must leave before it
decides to be brave.”

We hurried into the lighted portion of the
tunnel. Karla parted the seam with her sword. “Everybody out! Out
of the tunnel!” she said, holding the seam open for us to pass.
Bern went first—he was limping severely—followed by
Lille.

The Reaper flung itself up against the ledge.
A long thing like a lizard’s tongue spewed out from the center of
the snout and came careening at our heads.

“
Watch out!”

I tackled Karla. The weighty end of the tongue
smashed into the wall, sending bits of root flying everywhere.
Barbs ripped into the tunnel as it retracted, ripping roots
free.

The Asian guy hustled over and helped us back
up.

Karla shoved me hard into the seam with her
free hand, keeping her sword extended down tunnel at the lurching
beast. “Go!” she said.

Chapter 21:
Victoria

We clambered into the chamber and Karla
slammed the hatch behind us. I had regained some mastery of my
legs, but they still felt numb and quivery.

The Reaper bashed and bleated about the
tunnel, sharing its frustration in a noisy but futile tantrum. It
made no effort to follow us through the wall.

The sound and image of Sheila getting sucked
down its gullet refused to fade. I couldn’t think straight with
that vision haunting my brain. I wished I could have done something
to help her.

“
Never heard a beasty so angry,”
said Bern, whose pants were tattered and bloody. ”It must have
really wanted you.”

“
I tell you, Bern,” said Lille.
“This boy is special. Even the Reapers know it.”

“
Funny, I don’t feel so special.” I
said, collapsing onto Karla’s rug.

Astrid rapped her knuckles on the wall. “Are
we safe here? Are we not better off in the ‘Burg?”

“
I guarantee the Reaper cannot come
into my house,” said Karla. She handed over the kilt and shirt I
had worn my last time here, both neatly folded.

“
No worries, Astrid. As I recall,
Luther created this bubble,” said Bern. “Should be plenty sturdy to
keep the buggers out.”

“
Hah!” Karla stuck her hands on her
hips. “You imply I cannot myself build a sturdy villa?”

“
Not at all,” said Bern. “I’m just
saying … you know Luther … everything is overkill. The things he
builds … they’re like tanks. Inviolable.”

“
This place is just a bare shell
when I find it,” said Karla. “I make everything you see here.” She
swept her hand across the interior of the dome. “And I help make it
strong.”

Karla sent a glance my way and her gaze stuck.
Creases formed in her brow. She sidled over and whispered. “What is
wrong? Why so quiet?”

“
This girl. Sheila.”

“
Who?” She scrunched her eyes. “Your
… girlfriend?”

“
No. She was this girl … here in
Root. She had the pod next to mine. That … thing … got
her.”

Karla shrugged. “Happens. Too bad, so sad. It
is a dirty business, this Reaping, but some souls, this is what
they want, why they come here.”

“
Yeah, but does it have to be so
gruesome?”

“
Someone likes it done this way,
apparently,” said Bern. “Someone with a dark sense of
humor.”

“
Humor?” said Lille, attending to
his wounds. “Maybe just a dark sense.”

“
Someone like Luther,” said
Karla.

“
Pull down your trousers, Bern,”
said Lille.

Bern raised an eyebrow and gave her a naughty
smirk. “Here, my love?”

“
Unless you want your slacks knitted
to your flesh, I suggest you pull down your slacks.”

Bern looked at me. “Cheeky little thing, ain’t
she?” He pulled down his pants, revealing the deep slash in his
thigh. Clots had slowed the bleeding, but bloody trickles still ran
down his leg.

“
Little,” muttered Lille. “I’ll give
you little. And don’t call me a thing, I’m your better half and you
know it.” Her fingertips hovered over the wound, working in and
out, meshing the edges of the wound together a millimeter at a
time. Bits of dried blood flaked off and turned to lint before they
hit the ground.

The intricacy and delicacy of Lille’s finger
motions fascinated me. I couldn’t pull my eyes away. “It’s like …
magic,” I said.

“
Pish. No magic here. It’s more like
mending clothes,” said Lille. “We are all string on this side of
life.”

“
Nice to know we’re so patchable,” I
said.

“
Speaking of which,” said Bern
tugging at the blood-stained fabric heaped at his bony ankles.
“When you’re done with my mole scratches can you have a go at the
trousers?”

A single, nearly subsonic bell tolled,
followed by more bells, a mad cacophony of them, in many pitches
and tones.

“
Ah! Not now!” said Lille,
exasperated.

“
What is it?” I said.

“
Another general assembly,” said
Karla. “Luther is calling us.”

“
I ain’t going out there,” I said.
“Not with that … thing … rampaging about.”

“
It is not a problem,” said Karla.
“We can go. The Reaper will not come so deep. It has fear of
us.”

“
For good reason,” said Bern. “It
know I’ll give it a what fer with this.” He patted his cane, which
was once more a cane.

“
There,” said Lille, releasing the
folds of Bern’s trousers. “Now pull up your pants. Let’s go see
what this ruckus is about.”

“
I bet it’s Luther aiming to scold
us,” said Bern, frowning. “Leaving the playground without daddy’s
permission.”

***

We pushed through the shaggy corridor
connecting Karla’s chamber to the ‘Burg. Bits of root hung in
sheets and shreds like Spanish moss.

“
James, I think you meet Astrid,
no?” said Karla, indicating the blond woman with the ponytail who
nodded and smiled, her sling tucked over her shoulder like a
purse.

“
And this is Xiao Ke,” she said,
dragging the Asian fellow over to me by his hand. The man averted
his eyes, too nervous to even smile. “He does not speak English, or
anything we understand. He is shy, but he is also very loyal and
brave.”

“
Thank you,” I said. “I mean it.
Thanks a lot. All of you.”

“
Not a problem, dear. But I still
can’t believe that Harvald,” said Lille. “The way he mocked
you.”

“
That’s just who he is,” said Bern.
“He’s the sort of chap that finds road kill amusing.”

“
He is stronzo,” said Karla. “A
goon! The kind of man who kicks the puppies.”

“
Then again, if he hadn’t been such
a mocking fool, we never would have known the boy was in trouble,”
said Bern.

The corridor smoothed out into a paneled hall
and we entered the sitting room looking over the square. We passed
through a door, entering a little rose garden on the edge of the
square. People were gathered at the center, a larger crowd than
last time.

“
Brace yourselves,” said Bern. “I’m
sure Harvald’s spilled the beans about our intervention. We might
be in for a public flogging, so to speak.”

Lille touched my arm. “Don’t be alarmed, but
things could get a little strange, here. You know Luther and his
theatrics.”

“
But James is one of us now,” said
Karla. “Why should we not help him?”

“
Yes, but you know Luther,” said
Bern. “Every tub on its own bottom.”

“
That is why our community stay so
small,” said Karla. “We are never allow to help anyone.”

“
I fear James’ little feat the other
day might have inspired some jealousy,” said Lille. “Not even
Luther could weave such things when he first came here.”

“
He’s got nothing to worry about,” I
said. “I couldn’t even turn a root into a stick just
now.”

“
You backslid, child,” said Lille.
“It’s not that unusual. Especially when one doesn’t have full
command of this place.”

We took our time, strolling across the
cobbles. None of us were in any hurry to face the wrath of
Luther.

Karla touched my arm. I looked over to find
her leaning close. I could feel her breath on my cheek. “You had a
death wish. A strong one. No?”