The Winter Letter (19 page)

“We are nearly at the foot of the Peaks,” he said. He wasn’t even out of breath. “We can walk from here. I sense no one near. Radah?”

“There is something approaching, but it is distant,” Radah replied, out loud for the first time.

 Tselem looked over at Will, whose face showed he felt like his backside had been turned into a pin cushion. “Do you need a rest from the ride?”

“Yes,” Will, Gatnom, and Wohie said at the same time.

“Okay. You can walk for a while.”

Will nearly fell from Radah’s back. He wanted to kiss the ground, and from the way Gatnom and Wohie were walking it seemed they felt the same way. Radah led them just off the path to a spring of cold water, and the three lions drank one at a time, while the other two kept watch. A visible refreshment came over the three massive beings, and when they had each drank their fill they looked as if they were ready for another full day’s run, but to Will’s delight, they continued to walk uphill for another hour or so. 

It was then that the ground suddenly jolted. “Was that an earthquake?” Will asked. 

“An earth
what
?” asked Wohie. “That’s the Sudden Peaks. My brother told me about them. It shakes when they’re about to move.”

“Move?” Will asked. “What do you mean, move?” 

“You’ll see. We’re almost there.”

They kept walking up until they topped a hill and broke the tree line. Directly ahead, down the other side, was a massive desert, except the ground looked wet. The only variations were dunce-hat shaped rocks, no taller than Will, that were spread randomly about. Beyond the desert sat a chain of mountains hosting the sunset, causing the escaped orange to skip across the wet sand.

“I thought we were almost there!”

“We are here. Welcome to the Sudden Peaks,” said Gatnom.

Will squinted. “But, we still have to cross this desert!” He was suddenly looking forward to riding on the back of Radah again.

“No,” Wohie, Gatnom, and Jabber said together. 

“No one
ever
tries to cross the peaks while they are down. It would be certain death if you were caught in the middle,” said Gatnom.

“Down? What do you mean, while they are down?”

“These are the Sudden Peaks, Will. This sand is no desert.”

Will looked. Barren wasteland, sand with no ocean, and heavy sun beating down; it sure looked like a desert.

“These mountains amaze me,” said Wohie. “I’ve always wanted to see them rise.”

“Where are the mountains?” Will asked.

“The Sudden Peaks are quite a wonder to behold young magi,” said Tselem.

“Yeah... But where are the, um, Sudden Peaks?”

“Watch.”

Will watched, for what he did not know, but he watched anyway. The wet ground sat there. The dunce rocks sat still. The ground shook again. 

Suddenly one of the sharp rocks grew ten feet taller, then as Will stumbled back and his head shot straight up, the hats became the tips of mountain peaks in a matter of minutes. Once fully raised the summits were out of the range of sight and a giant wall of rock blocked their path.

“
That’s
why they are called the Sudden Peaks,” Gatnom said with a smirk. Will’s mouth was still gaping open. He already understood.

“Master Tselem,” said Radah from behind. Will, Wohie, and Gatnom all turned and looked towards the raspy voice of Radah. The Lion’s eyes were intensely scanning the rock wall from left to right. “I sense Amokians. They were beneath. That is why they seemed distant before. It seems they have become extremely hard to track.”

“The Amokians? You mean the bewitched men from the first war?” Gatnom asked. “The ones who hunted down your kind?”

“Yes,” Tselem answered. “We must be near one of the entrances to the caves of Amok.” 

“But sir, it is too dangerous to camp so close, and it is much too late to begin the journey across.”

Parah looked over at Tselem. He was once again talking without words. Tselem seemed to be listening.

“I understand wise Parah, but the only crossable pass other than this one is a hundred miles north.”

“What’s going on Gat?” Will asked quietly. 

Gatnom leaned over. “There is only one pass across the Eastern Sudden Peaks.” Gatnom pointed to two small paths about fifty yards south, near the massive black opening of a cave. The paths went on opposite sides making the dark hole look like an evil cyclops eyes in the middle of a stone head. “That is an opening to the Caves of Amok. Remember I told you about the witch? Those who live there are mad from the remnants of her magic. It drives them to constant rage.”

Jabber fluttered up and down on Will’s shoulder. “The Caves of Amok?! My father flew there one time. He told me not even butterbugs can go undetected inside of that place.”

“It’s true,” Gatnom said. “They are the most violent creatures in all of the world.” 

“
That
makes me feel better,” mumbled Will.

“Captain Gatnom...” Gatnom turned to listen to Tselem. “We have only two choices. Either we attempt a crossing now in the dangers of night, or we pull back and camp.”

“Where can we camp so close to the caves entrance? Surely the beast will be coming into the forest to hunt having been in the Under-Land for the past few days.”

“Yes, but they never stray far from the remnants of the spirit of the witch in the caves. The farther they are from the caves the more pain they feel from their twisted bodies. If we pull back far enough, only build a small fire, and if things are as they always were, we should have no problems.”

Gatnom looked at Will and Wohie. Their blank stares helped his decision none. “Okay, let’s pull back far into the tree line and camp there for the night. We need rest before we attempt to cross the peaks. A night crossing is too dangerous. If we sleep in shifts we should still be rested for tomorrow.” Gatnom paused, turning to look directly into Will’s and Wohie’s eyes. “Stay close. This is dangerous territory.”

Nineteen
The Sudden Peaks

The night was long. Every insect crackle and leaf bustle woke Will with a start. When it came his turn to keep watch he was so sleepy he dozed off. He would not have had he known what was watching him. 

Sitting motionless in the brush surrounding the campfire was a group of scoundrels, but not just any scoundrels, these were two hundred year old citizens of the caves of Amok. Time and possession and constant motiveless brawling had done its work on their faces and personalities, but their bodies remained solid, despite their frail appearance. The normal eye would see them as deformed old men covered in old beards—skinny, hungry and frail, but that was not the case. Their look was a ploy. They knew the best way to win a fight was to have the opponent lower his shield in pride. Muscle and wit hid behind the disguise of stupidity. This small band of Amokians had been quietly observing and silently plotting to each other with their fingers as to what type of trickery would give them the funniest stories to tell later. Once decided, the ring tightened around the sleepers until they sat cross legged, shoulder to shoulder, only feet away, staring blankly at the fire with mangled smiles. Will awoke to Jabber pulling at his ear. He started like one who is not suppose to be asleep does when he discovers he is indeed sleeping. 

“Jabber, what’s wr—” 

Will froze. The first thing he noticed was the color of their skin in the firelight, pale white with just enough green to make it appear olive; the second thing he noticed were the smiles, black teeth and all; and the third was the blank look in their eyes and how their pupils moved like ink. Will reached down and shook Gatnom’s leg. The men watched, their smiles unchanging.

“What is it?” Gatnom asked. There was no need of an answer because as Gatnom sat up he saw the band of twisted faces. “What business have you with us, Fallen of Amok?” Gatnom asked. 

“Business? Business you ask? We have no business to offer, no business,” one of those seated said. All the rest held their smiles and stares on Gatnom and Will. 

Wohie woke, rubbing her eyes, not sure of what was happening yet. 

“We are but poor, weak, stupid men who live in the dark all the time,” said another of the men as if continuing the first’s thought. “Our eyes are weak and we are twisted and mangled from our work.” 

“We are old,” continued yet another, “as old as old can be. It has been ages since we have seen youth. Seeing you, well it’s as if our souls have been refreshed.”

“Would you like to come into our home? Our wives would be so happy to see you,” finished the first.

At this moment the three Lions stepped out from the shadows. “Fallen of Amok,” said Tselem sternly, “do not think us stupid. Lies billow from your lips like smoke rolls from fire.”

“Oh such harsh words to such an old man. Come now sir, I mean no harm.” The first was doing all the talking now. He turned and looked at Will. The rest of the men stopped smiling all at once and started glancing from Will to Gatnom to Wohie, never once looking at the Lions. “It is just that we lost our children hundreds of years ago,” said the lead Amokian. “We long to have the company of the young. They died so tragic in the old war. Surely
you
understand, young man.” Will’s eyes widened when he realized this was being aimed at him, but for some reason he felt this old man could understand what he was going through. He had lost family too.

“We miss them so much. Every night we dream of their screams.” A black tear slid from the distorted pupil of the Amokian leader, as if he was leaking oil. “The King took our children. We fought, but there was no hope. We had no chance against such power.”

“Silence, fallen one! There is no truth in you!” Tselem yelled.

“Master Tselem, please be calm,” said Gatnom. “I think they are telling us the truth. They understand what it’s like to lose someone, like we lost our parents.” Will glanced over at Wohie. They were all feeling the same thing. These were old men out watching the cave entrance who understood the pain they felt.

“Young Magi, trust my words,” said Tselem. “You think you can relate to them, but they only deceive. Slavery is their game, slavery and torture.”

“Look at the old men. They are weak, slow, how could they enslave and control. They can do us no harm,” Gatnom replied.

“Your heart is pure,” said Tselem, “your passion strong, but your wisdom is too simple. Their words are the slyest of magic. Like music and stories they do not need your permission to enter your soul. As they speak, no matter the feeling, they enslave. If we do not stop this conversation now, you would soon fight me to serve them.”

“Don’t listen to the foolish lion,” said the old man. He started speaking in melody, just at the line where speech becomes song. “He is simply overprotective. He is valiant for sure, but mistaken. We need you to help us live. We perhaps have known the same people, maybe I know your parents.”

Wohie stood up and spoke to Tselem. “I want to go with them,” she said. “They may have known our parents. They need us to help take care of them.”

“It isn’t right to deny such a request Sir Tselem. I’m not sure you understand what it is to lose someone so close,” said Gatnom.

Will said nothing. He simply stood up, took his bag in his hand, and turned towards Gatnom. He was ready to go.

“This way young ones. I’ll show you to our cave. Once there, everyone will understand you.”

The three young magi began to follow. “Stop!” Tselem growled. His voice echoed although there was nothing for it to echo off of. “You have crossed the line Amokian. Your lies will be tolerated no more. I know of your kind and I will
not
allow you to be here for another moment. Go.”

“Stop Tselem, he doesn’t mean any har—” 

“Quiet young one! You are bewitched! I sensed it the moment he spoke.”

“Bewitched?! How could we bewitch such a strong magi? This Lion is troubled. There is something he is not telling you. Come with us and we will tell you the truth. We will—”

“SILENCE!” Tselem roared. Parah, and Radah stepped forward in perfect timing. The group of men stood to their feet quickly. For a moment, while they stood eye to eye with the Lions, a hint of fear flashed in their liquid eyes.

“Master Tselem. You are welcome into our home as well. Don’t be so angry. It is good to be calm. There is never reason to fight sir. You are a mighty Lion, maybe the strongest Baru has ever seen. Together you could do great things in the world of Amok. Come with us and be—”

“Do not think your witchcraft strong enough to enchant an Unfallen Master. You are mistaken as to who we really are.”

The man seemed taken back for a moment. “Who do you think you are, Lion? You are just an animal. Why do you resist my kindness?” The Amokian’s tone was different, more deep and scratchy, but still he spoke in melody, lyrics with no music.

Tselem pawed the ground. “You are fallen, and you draw on my master’s mercy by the day. That is the only reason you are still standing. Do not think us unable to deal with you. Stand down, leave, and you will live.”

“What is a small Lion to do to me?” the Amokian jeered. The entire besieging circle exploded in laughter. “You are nothing, and now you should be afraid. I remember your kind well. I remember their passivity. You are all talk, little cat.” 

At this all of the filthy men backed into the edge of the shadows. Then, in unison from the dark surrounding, came a chin tightening screech. Will clutched his ears and looked away. As the screech scratched the air the men’s boney faces distorted, snapping and cracking as they mutated. Their swimming pupils spread like ink in water until their eyes were solid marble black. Boney arms popped and snapped and doubled in size, and their slumped over backs straightened, bubbling into muscles. The hunched over old men were now feet taller than Gatnom. Will, realizing what was happening, backed into the solid chest of Parah.

“It is a shame you had to mess this up little lion; we could have had so much fun. Now what should we do?” All the beast looked at their leader with the same dead smile under their dead black eyes. The leader smirked in his mangled way, then nodded. Instantly, the monsters lunged forward. Will slammed his eyes shut. Wohie screamed. Jabber took flight. Gatnom lifted his hand. But all knew it was too late; any second now they would be torn to pieces.