Everflame (27 page)

Why did you kill that man?
came the voice in his head.

“What? That man was a bandit,” he said aloud in confusion. “He was evil.”

Did I ask you to kill that man?
asked the voice.

He shook his head. “No, but was that man not evil?”

Who are you to decide what is good and what is evil? Who are you to judge fate?

His mistake became clear to him. “I am sorry, my Holy. Never again will I assume to know your will. Please forgive me, my Holy.” He dropped to his knees and bowed his head.

Let this be a lesson to you. I will not be so forgiving in the future. Never forget that it is I who has shaped, and will forever shape this world and all that walk upon it. I choose to work through you.

“Yes, my Holy.”

He stood and continued to walk south, knowing without being told that he would never be entering the village of Hendrick. He saw images in his head of the entrance to a cave and his feet knew how to take him there.

The Floyds,
he thought.
I must kill the Floyds.

Chapter 24:
Taken

“I didn’t think that a place like this could be real,” said Riverpaw.

He and Evercloud stood
, shin-deep, besieged in bog water. A chill climbed Evercloud’s back. He looked off into the distance, which wasn’t far given all of the fog, and what he could see wasn’t encouraging. The fog that hung in the air all around them was an ill color of green and smelled like old vegetables. Dead trees intermittently dotted the landscape, their jet-black bark matching the muddy water that the travelers stood in. Neon-green moss grew upon the trees like a disease and protruded randomly throughout the surface of the bog water. This world felt hollow.

“Should it be this cold?” asked Everclou
d as he fought phantom shivers.

“This place is evil,” answered Riverpaw. “It’s sucking the warmth away from us.”

A vulture screeched high above them from its gnarly, wooden perch. Evercloud looked up at the vulture, bobbing its head in the tree, thinking that it looked like it was laughing at them.

“Did you say something?” asked Riverpaw.

“No. That was the vulture.”

“Not the vulture. I heard whispers.” Riverpaw watched the fog in suspense. “Listen.”

Evercloud focused his hearing out into the surrounding bog. He couldn’t hear anything. But just as he was about to tell Riverpaw that he couldn’t hear anything, the noises began to reach his ear. Quiet at first, like the breeze moving through the leaves in the trees. But there was no breeze and the trees bore no leaves.

“What is it?” asked Evercloud.

“Shhh,” warned Riverpaw.

The sounds were growing, swelling and rolling like b
arely-breaking waves; the beginnings of what could be voices. Small whispers, coming at them from all directions. They swore they could make out the words.
Come this way
, whispered the voices.
Look out behind you
, they teased.
She’ll make soup out of your bones.

“Who’s there?” called Riverpaw.

“Shut up,” whispered Evercloud. “I don’t think we should announce our presence.”

“But the voices,” said Riverpaw.

“Probably don’t want to help us. I don’t have a reason for it, but I don’t think that we should listen to them.”

“Well
, I suppose we should start moving.”

Evercloud looked around with his arms extended. “Take your pick.”

“The way we’re facing?” shrugged Riverpaw.

“Looks as good as any other direction.”

And with that, they began to move through Oldham’s Bog.

Plodding on, one soggy step at a time, the travelers scanned their surroundings for some sort of clue, but the bog didn’t change. The sickly fog hung thick in the air and the dead
, black trees, with their skeleton branches, reached for the sky like the hands of drowning men. At one point, Evercloud slipped on a patch of moss and tumbled into the water. He came back up, soaking and gasping for air, his body revolting against the freezing liquid. Riverpaw helped him to his feet and picked some moss off of his shoulder.

“It’s freezing,” breathed Evercloud.

Riverpaw looked at him empathetically. He didn’t really know what to say. “Walking might warm you up.”

Evercloud shivered as he nodded and they continued on their search. As they walked, the whispers continued.
Don’t come any closer. Please, stay away. She will set your flesh on fire.
Another vulture screeched far behind them. Evercloud continued to shiver.

“How are we supposed to find anything in this place?” asked Riverpaw. “The only things out here are those creepy voices. Maybe we should try talking to them.”

“I don’t think so,” disagreed Evercloud. “There’s got to be something we’re missing. Maybe we should start inspecting the trees.”

So as they walked on, they began to inspect the trees they came across. A couple of times
, Evercloud stood upon Riverpaw’s back to get a closer look at the branches, and a few times, Riverpaw tore a good deal of bark off of the trunk. Still they found no clues. They had been walking for what seemed like hours, but there was no change in either the temperature of the air or of the lightness of the fog-filled sky. They came close to the next tree in their path and it left their jaws hung wide. Bark had been torn from the trunk and Riverpaw recognized, very distinctly, his own claw marks.

“We’re walking in circles,” he shook his head. “I can’t believe we’re walking in circles.”

Evercloud sat down upon a mound of green moss and put his head down between his knees. “We need to sleep, Riverpaw. We need fresh minds and bodies to figure out this puzzle.”

“Where? In the cold water?”

“Well we can’t hope to continue like this,” said Evercloud, raising his voice.

Riverpaw huffed in frustration and leaned his weary body against the tree trunk. It shook from the impact of his weight and the mossy lump that Evercloud sat upon rose slightly into the air. Evercloud turned, wide-eyed, to Riverpaw whose face reflected the same sentiment.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” asked Evercloud.

Riverpaw didn’t even answer the question. He turned his head and galloped about twenty feet away from the tree. Evercloud knew what was coming and quickly got himself out of the way. Riverpaw dug his legs down
, deep into the muddy water, and without warning, began to charge the tree. He barreled into the tree, hitting it with as much force as he could. Bark flew from the tree trunk and dead branches fell to the ground. He continued to put pressure on the tree and Evercloud watched as it slowly came splashing to the bog below.

“There,” said Riverpaw. “It’s not much, but it’ll have to do.”

“It’s more than I could hope for.” Evercloud smiled for the first time since they had entered Oldham’s Bog. The two weary travelers sprawled out on the tree, more than ready to hide inside the refuge of slumber.
She’ll kill you in your sleep
, said the whispers in the fog.

“Let her try,” muttered Riverpaw.

Evercloud yawned. “Yeah, let her try.” And with that shared fortitude, they fell into a deep sleep.

• • •

Riverpaw and Evercloud woke after a lengthy rest to find everything exactly as they had left it. Evercloud stretched and looked around, shaking his head.

“Well?” asked Riverpaw.

“Well, I don’t think that we should just continue walking around randomly. That got us, literally, nowhere. We need a plan.”

They sat down on the dead tree and trie
d to think of a plan of action.

“You know,” said Riverpaw. “I was having a pretty good dream. It was a shame to have to wake up to all of this.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I was dreaming that we were back in the Kingdom. We were heroes. We had returned after finding the Ancients and defeating the Great Tyrant. We were in the arena being presented with a feast. You should have seen it.” Riverpaw licked his lips. “Fresh breads and puddings, cakes and plates of fruit. Watermelon, Evercloud. Do you know how long it’s bee
n since I’ve eaten watermelon?”

“You do like your watermelon.”

“Aww. I must have had three big ones to myself. And the fish.” Riverpaw shook his head. “I can’t even begin to describe it.”

“Yeah,” agreed Evercloud. “This is a pretty sore sight to wake up to, after a good dream.”

“How about you?” asked Riverpaw. “Good dreams?”

“Yeah,” nodded Evercloud.

“Well, out with it.”

“I’d rather not.”

Riverpaw furrowed his brow. “Here we are, out in…well we don’t even know where we are, risking our lives together and you’re gonna bottle up. Are you joking?”

“Fine, fine. But I don’t want to hear any goofy remarks out of you. Got it?” Riverpaw shrugged in agreement. “I was dreaming about…Iolana.”

“Ahhh,” said Riverpaw. “That’s why you didn’t want to tell me.”

“I can’t seem to get her out of my mind.”

“Now, don’t jump down my throat,” warned Riverpaw, “but I think maybe you were going to feel this way about the first woman you saw, no matter what.”

“She’s not the first woman I saw.”

“First one you talked to?” asked Riverpaw.

“Maybe,” said Evercloud
, lowering his gaze to his feet. “But it’s more than that. There’s something there. I feel some sort of deep connection with her. I can’t explain it.”

“Am I the only one you’ve told this to?”

“Yes, but I think that Ben knows. He made some comment about there being plenty of
other
women.”

“Well, you can only expect as much. She is his sister. Do you remember when I told Shiningsun that I found his sister attractive? He hasn’t talked to me since.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” said Evercloud, and then changing the subject. “So anyway, there’s still the issue of this bog.”

“You had to bring that back up, didn’t you?”

“It’s not going anywhere.”

“And you still don’t want to talk to the whispers?”

“I don’t know, maybe we should give it a try.”

“No, don’t talk to them,” came a small voice. “They’ve got nothing good to say; very negative.”

Evercloud and Riverpaw spun their heads to see a small, white mouse, sitting upon a root of the fallen tree.

“Are you?” began Evercloud.

“Yes, I am,” said the mouse. “And no, you are not.” Evercloud and Riverpaw looked at each other in confusion. The mouse scurried from the tree root and came to a stop on Evercloud’s lap. The mouse sighed in frustration. “I am,” he continued, “the same mouse that you met in the woods. And no, you are not doing a very good job of getting what needs to be gotten.”

“Can you help us?” asked Riverpaw.

“And what do you think that I am doing right now?”

“So you’ll show us the way then, to find the apple and the hammer?” asked Evercloud.

The mouse left Evercloud’s lap and ran up Riverpaw’s arm, finally stopping on the top of his head. “Where are your brains?” asked the mouse, rapping his tiny mouse fist against Riverpaw’s skull. “Hello, anybody in there?”

Riverpaw frowned. “Are you going to help us or insult us?”

“I believe,” said the mouse with an air of superiority, “that I am currently doing both.”

Evercloud stood up from the tree and looked at the mouse. “All right
, mouse, where is the Tree of Death and the Witch’s Throne?”

“How should I know?” said the mouse indignantly. “I don’t live in this filthy place.”

“No one lives in this filthy place,” muttered Evercloud.

“That,” said the mouse, “is not true.”

A vulture screeched in the distance and the mouse perked his ears. “Well, it’s time that I be off or it’s time that I be dinner. Glad to see that you’re not dead yet, and good luck, you’re going to need it.” And with that, the mouse scurried into a hole in the dead tree and disappeared.

“You know,” said Riverpaw, turning to Evercloud, “I don’t really like that mouse.”

But Evercloud was not paying attention to him. He was deep in thought. Then, suddenly, his eyes brightened. “That’s it. I can’t believe we didn’t think of this.”

“What?” said Riverpaw.

“I’m a human and you’re a bear and we talk to each other, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And that mouse can talk to us, right?”

“Yeah,” said Riverpaw, squinting his eyes, not really knowing where Evercloud was going with
his point.

“So, we should be able to talk to any other creature with the brains to do so.”

“Yes, yes,” hurried Riverpaw. “But what’s your point?”

“The vulture,” said Evercloud.

Comprehension broke across Riverpaw’s face. “The vulture.”

Without another word, they began walking in the direction of the last heard screech, hoping they had figured out the puzzle of Oldham’s Bog.

• • •

“Hey,” called Riverpaw. “You there. Vulture.” The vulture stuck his wrinkly neck out and peered down at Riverpaw and Evercloud. He looked from one of them to the other and ruffled his feathers, retracting his neck and deciding to ignore them. “I said, hey, you,” continued Riverpaw. “We want to talk to you.”

The vulture turned his gaze to Riverpaw, and again made no reply. He then looked at Evercloud with a raised brow and called out, “Human, your bear is talking. Why is your bear talking?”

“He can do that,” answered Evercloud.

“He can?” returned the bird.

“Yes, I can,” answered Riverpaw.

“Wow,” said the bird. “That’s a new one.”

“I can also rip your stupid head off,” Riverpaw muttered under his breath.

Evercloud called back up to the bird. “We would like to ask you a few questions.”

“Go ahead, I’m not going anywhere.”

“We wanted to know if you could tell us how to find the Tree of Death?”

The large black bird flew down from its perch, high in the dead tree and landed on a bran
ch, just above Riverpaw’s head.

“I knew it. I knew it,” said the vulture
, shaking its head. “The moment I saw you, I knew you looked like one of those fools, searching for the Tree of Death. I was laughing to myself and thinking that. You know why they call it the Tree of Death, don’t you?”

“Because its fruit is poisonous,” said Evercloud.

“Yeeesss,” replied the bird. “So why in the world would you want to find it?”

“That’s not your business,” shot Riverpaw. “Now can you tell us how to get there or not?”

“Look here, bear,” said the vulture. “Up until a few minutes ago, you didn’t even know how to talk. So don’t get chippy with me.”

Riverpaw growled at the bird.

“Please,” began Evercloud, trying to keep the conversation on track. “It’s very important that we find it. Will you help us?”

“I don’t see why not,” said the bird. “But what’s in it for me?”

Evercloud turned to Riverpaw at a loss. They didn’t have much of anything to offer the bird. They only carried with them the bare essentials for their survival. Evercloud took his pack off and began to rummage through it, but just as he expected, there was nothing that they could afford to give up. Evercloud turned back to the bird empty handed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “We have nothing to give.”

“Everyone’s got
something
to give,” said the bird. “How about a story. It gets pretty lonely out here, you know. I’d enjoy a good story if you’ve got one.”

So Evercloud began to tell the only story that he knew, his own. He told the vulture of the Kingdom
, and the Ancients and the Great Tyrant, and then he began with the quest. He told the vulture of buffalo hunting and his trip into the village of Hendrick. At that point, Riverpaw added in an account of the standoff with the village officers. Evercloud told of the Floyd family, with no short description of the beautiful Iolana. He told of the battle with the giant, blue crab and of Padre Esteban and the test, and then of the dark passageway and the metal statue. Once he had worked his way up to the present, he began to make up the rest of the story. He told of the noble vulture, who had helped Evercloud and Riverpaw find the items that they needed, and how they retuned to the White Mountains to free Tenturo. He told of how they had killed the evil guardians with the apple from the Tree of Death and everyone lived happily ever after. And of course, in the end, Evercloud got the girl.

“What a story,” said the vulture, once Evercloud had finished. “However, it seems to me that the noble vulture was the real hero. He should have got the girl in the end.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Evercloud. “I’ll be sure to change that part in future telling.”

“Well then,” smiled the vulture. “I suppose I owe you my help. I’ll show you to the Tree of Death. I’ll fly up in the sky and you just follow me on the ground. We’ll be there in no time.”

“Thank you,” said Evercloud.

The vulture turned around on his branch and spread his wings, preparing to take flight. “Oh and by the way,” he said, “you may also want to consider changing that Riverpaw character. He came off like a real dolt.” With that, the bird leapt into the air.

Riverpaw turned to Evercloud. “Let me kill him, Evercloud. Please, let me kill him.”

“We need him.”

“Fine,” grumbled Riverpaw, and the two travelers began to follow the vulture as he soared above their heads.

They walked for no more than fifteen minutes before they started noticing changes in the bog. The fog began to clear and they were soon able to see further than they had since entering Oldham’s Bog. In fact, it cleared so much that they were able to see the night sky and all the stars that filled it. Not only were they able to see the clear sky, but also the bog itself seemed to benefit, and they began to see trees that were alive. No longer was their bark black, but
instead a light-tan color. The neon-green moss still clung to everything, but it was no longer the only green to be seen. The living trees had leaves, just as vivid, and they rustled lightly in the breeze.

“This is almost pleasant,” observed Riverpaw.

It was now difficult to see the vulture against the stars, but every once in a while he would give a screech so they knew where he was. Evercloud even noticed that the trees they were passing were starting to bare fruit.

“It’s a good thing we have a guide,” he said. “We’d never know which one of these apple trees was the right one.”

“Actually,” said Riverpaw, and gestured for Evercloud to look ahead. “I don’t think there would have been any doubt.”

Evercloud scanned the horizon and saw the most beautiful apple tree he had ever seen in his life. It radiated ahead of them as if it were made of light. As they got closer to it, they noticed that its leaves seemed to tinkle brightly in the wind as if they were made of glass or metal. The tree was so bright
that they couldn’t believe it was real. Evercloud walked up and plucked an apple from the branches. It was warm to the touch as if it were alive in his hand. Evercloud felt more as if he were holding a heart than a piece of fruit.

“I never would have thought that a tree of death would look more like a tree of life,” said Riverpaw.

“That’s what it wants you to think,” said the vulture, landing on the ground next to the two travelers. “But believe me when I say that one bite out of that apple and you’ll be dead before it falls to the ground.”

Evercloud opened his pack and stuffed the apple deep inside
.

“Well, I suppose that you’ll be leaving now, eh,” the vulture said sullenly.

“Actually,” said Evercloud. “We would like to ask another favor of you.” The vulture’s eyes lit up, happy to be able to retain his company for a while longer. “We need to be taken to the Witch’s Throne.”

The vulture’s beak dropped and he began to shake his head violently. “No, no, no, no, no. I won’t do that. Don’t ask for
that
. What is wrong with the two of you? Taken to the Witch’s Throne.” The vulture spat on the ground in disgust.

“Please,” begged Evercloud. “You must. We’ll do whatever you ask of us.”

“All I want is to not do that.”

“Please. We have to. It’s our mission.”

“I can’t. I can’t.” Now the vulture was begging Evercloud. “You don’t know what you’re asking. You
can’t
know what you’re asking.”

Evercloud bent down to look at the creature. “Do you remember that story I told you, with the noble vulture?” The vulture nodded his head. “Sometimes we have to
do things that are frightening, but we have to be brave, or else there will never be a happy ending. We must be taken to the Witch’s Throne. It is the only way. Can you be brave, vulture? Can you do this for us?”

The vulture bowed his head to the ground. “All right,” he said. “If that’s really what you want.”

“It is.”

The vulture turned around and spread his wings. “And I was just beginning to like the two of you.” The vulture flew into the air and Riverpaw and Evercloud watched him, ready to follow once again. But suddenly, the vulture stopped at about twenty feet in the air and began screaming.

“INTRUDERS!” he screamed into the air. “THE BEAR! THE HUMAN! INTRUDERS! GET THEM!”

The ground began to quake and Evercloud and Riverpaw almost lost their balance. Evercloud looked at Riverpaw with panic in his eyes. “What have we done?”

“Quickly, get on my back,” said Riverpaw.

As Evercloud climbed aboard, long
, fibrous tendrils began to reach out of the bog. Thick and vinelike, they wove along the surface of the water toward them.

“RUN!” screamed Evercloud.

Riverpaw splashed through the bog as fast as his legs could carry them. As if commanded by some forgotten evil, the vines came closer to them, green with moss and bloated with bog water. They lashed out, narrowly missing Riverpaw’s heels as he flew by in panic.

“I told you!” cried the vulture. “I told you I didn’t want to do it! You stupid creatures! I told you!”

More and more giant vines rose from the wet blackness. Riverpaw ran with every ounce of energy he had, but it was of no use. The vines closed around them, wrapping around their extremities, and closing around their throats. They struggled with madness to free themselves, but the vines held tight, dragging them down until they disappeared underneath the freezing waters of Oldham’s Bog.