LIADAN III

  Her feet ached and the sharp stones underfoot threatened to split her worn boots. Liadan was amazed that her companions could trod barefoot across such rough terrain, but supposed that a lifetime of such activity could prepare one’s soles for such abuse. They marched on and on, following a twisted path along a ridge. On occasion, a far more welcoming path came into view: a generously wide and curved tube through the rock. A manicured road ran down the center of it, busy with the traffic of Tengu industry.

  “Why do we creep about in the blasted shadows, when we could take the road most traveled?” Eógan asked, after hitting his head on an outcrop for the countless time.

  “I am uncertain of your reception,” Esker answered in her typical direct manner. “As I faced mistreatment and generated fear upon the surface world, Liadan and you might elicit similar prejudice amongst my people.”

  “Do you know where this path leads?” Liadan asked.

  “So long as it follows this lava tube,” Esker said as she gestured down to the curved throughway, “we will reach civilization.” They hiked onward, the only illumination was from pockets of bioluminescent fungus. Esker had forbid her from utilizing the light of her faith out of fear it would attract undue attention; Liadan was not sure that she would even be able to summon it. Despair roiled deep within her stomach, along with pangs of hunger.

  A particularly loud gurgle drew the attention of her companions. “Is there anything to eat? We have been tirelessly traveling for… I have no idea how long,” Liadan said as she looked up at the roof of the cavern. Her circadian rhythm had become greatly disrupted.

  Esker stopped and readjusted Guillaume’s body in her arm, then took a look at the surroundings. “We must find a lifestream: there is scarce sustenance available elsewhere, short of the insect life we have encountered.” Both Liadan and Eógan made a face. “I encourage you both to try it, but will admit that I was not eager to eat your cuisine either.” She gently lifted Guillaume and his satchel swung free. “Perhaps there is still some of that surface food in his bag that can bolster the two of you for a bit,” Esker suggested.

  Eógan eagerly obliged, rummaging through the Jotling’s belongings with little care. “Stop that!” Liadan chided with unexpected emotion. Eógan cocked an eyebrow at her. “Please be gentle with Guillaume’s paperwork. He will not appreciate discovering that his notes or illustrations were damaged,” Liadan amended. A strong sense of violation flowed like a wave through her: was it wrong to root through Guillaume’s satchel without his permission?

  The look shared between Esker and Eógan was not subtle. “Lia…” Eógan began.

  She did not let him finish, “You think me foolish for clinging to hope.” Tears filled her eyes as the guilt of her friend’s sacrifice eroded her from within. “I do not accept what happened. He cannot die, he will not die.” Liadan sagged to her knees, wishing there was something she could do, someone who would hear her prayers. Even amongst her friends she had never felt so alone and untethered.

  “He is dead, you know that,” Eógan said callously. Esker glowered at him, but the Pecht was undeterred, “You need to accept that he is gone.”

  “I do not and I will not abandon him!” Liadan insisted. Deep down she knew her friend had passed, she had known it since she witnessed his final ragged breath. It was not fair, she should have been able to help him, to save him. Why had her powers failed her in a time of greatest need? Her thoughts turned towards the horrid dungeon that they had barely survived and dark temptation filled her mind: if her God would not help her, perhaps others would.

  “Eógan phrased his thoughts without compassion.” Esker gave him another long look. “Though his words are painful, they are true. Now is the time to cherish Guillaume and honor his memory, our hopes to bring him back from the brink of death must be abandoned.”

  Liadan stared incredulously at them, her mouth trembling, unable to express what was within her heart. They had given up, had accepted the finality of the situation and there would be no convincing of them of an alternative. She took a deep breath to calm her frayed nerves. “You are right,” she lied, “we… I will not let my feelings cloud my judgement.” Fury simmered within, kindling her heart with a different, darker energy. Her face and voice betrayed none of these changes. “We will lay Guillaume to rest, but not here, somewhere he would be happy to have visited.” Her mask cracked at the end of that request, betraying emotion. It ended up being a boon, convincing the others that she had acceded to their plans.

  As Eógan began to speak, Esker stilled him with a glance. “I am deep in sorrow as well,” she comforted. “Guillaume was a kind soul and I am grateful to have met him. We will find a suitable place to honor his memory.”

  “We will,” Liadan lied again. “Thank you for understanding.”

  “I found some jerky,” Eógan said jovially. “Have some Lia.” He offered a strip to her. Liadan found that she had lost her appetite.

  ———

  It was a relief to reach the fast running underground stream, the oasis of life it supported was in stark contrast to bare rock path they had trudged along. Esker encouraged them to drink the mineral heavy water and wasted no time in stripping off her tattered rags to bathe within the cool current. Eógan, also not fond of modesty, quickly followed suit, unwrapping the acid eaten plaid from his waist and carefully folding it before plunging in.

  Liadan was eager to rinse the dust and blood from her body and clothes, yet she could not shake her reservations. In compromise, she rolled back the sleeves of her tunic and dunked her head. It was delightfully refreshing as she quenched her thirst and worked her fingers through some of the tangles in her hair. Her last chance to bathe was before that horrid audience with High King Murtaugh. Liadan drew back her sopping hair, letting the water drain into the stream as she leaned over it. She laughed as Eógan and Esker splashed about, for a moment the weight of all they had been through was lifted.

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  As she stirred the frigid water with her hand, goosebumps ran up her arm. Peering down into the clear stream she saw pale flowerlike growths clinging to crags beneath the surface, they waved petal like tendrils lazily in the current. “Esker,” she called out, “are these plants safe to touch?”

  The Tengu waded over to her to take a closer look. “Ah, those are a critical part of what gives lifestreams their names. They are called rock urchins, they filter smaller life to survive and are edible for other species.” She caressed the cylindrical body and brought her fingers towards the ring of dancing tendrils. “They catch their prey with stinging tentacles and draw it towards their mouth.” Esker demonstrated by gently inserting her finger, the mouth puckered shut slowly and the tendrils wrapped around it. “The stinging toxins of the smaller ones do not affect Tengu. I would be surprised if they were even an irritant for your soft surface skin,” she added with a coy smile.

  “Let me try!” Eógan thrashed through the water, his small stature forced him to contend much more with the current. He poked and prodded several of these rock urchins before Liadan could urge caution, giggling when they closed around his fingers. “It tickles, you should try it, Lia,” he encouraged. Eógan gently removed his hands and brought them up before his face, “See, no harm done.” He showed her the fronts and backs of his hands.

  Liadan reluctantly obliged, too curious to refuse the opportunity. The loose tentacles reminded her of the aquatic plants found along the banks of rivers near where she had grown up. There was something sweet about their gentle grasp as they closed around her hand, it was a delicate but firm embrace. They seemed more like animals than true plants, or something else in-between.

  “If the diameter of the rock urchin’s mouth is larger than your hand, I encourage you to avoid it,” Esker warned. “The grip strength increases proportionately and so does the potency of their venom.” That made Liadan even less keen to fully submerge herself. “I shall gather some aquatic mushrooms,” Esker continued. “We would need to cook and soak these rock urchins in vinegar before they would be edible. Eógan, you are welcome to fish or hunt some of the smaller insects that look appealing.”

  Eógan and Liadan both took a long look at the oversized creatures crawling along the walls and lurking behind rocky outcrops with quivering antennae. “I will fish,” Eógan answered for both of them and she was grateful.

  Before long, Esker returned with an arm full of long pale mushrooms, glistening with moisture. After several attempts, Eógan managed to spear a strikingly albino fish. What it lacked in appetizing appearance, it made up for in size. “Ack, it has no eyes!” Eógan exclaimed as he slid it off of the spear and gutted it with the knife he kept tied around his waste.

  “It has no need for eyes where it lives,” Esker replied. She seemed to enjoy sharing details about her underground world. They had gathered up some of the bioluminescent fungus to make it easier to see, which aided Eógan but was necessary for Liadan. She struggled mightily in the dark, fumbling clumsily about. She was still unable to tap into her powers, now she could not even summon intermittent light.

  “Where can I cook this?” Eógan flopped the cleaned fish about, working its mouth like a puppet.

  “Tengu savor the flavor of raw fresh fish, I have heard it pairs well with this aquatic fungus,” Esker answered, ignoring his antics.

  Liadan’s stomach roiled at the thought of consuming raw flesh, or possibly out of hunger. “Are you going to have some?” she asked.

  Esker sat in silence for a moment. “As a child I relished raw fish.” Her stomach growled, betraying her appetite.

  “I cannot imagine why you gave it up,” Eógan muttered. He shrugged and carved off a piece from the fatty filet. He popped it in his mouth and slowly chewed. “Hah, it is not bad!” he exclaimed. “Let me try it with some mushroom.” Esker handed him one of the long stalks with a small conical cap. He alternated bites, growing in enthusiasm. “You were right, these are delicious together,” he announced through a mouthful. “Try some Lia.” He sliced her a generous portion of fish.

  Liadan could not help but smile. She took a tentative bite and was pleasantly surprised. The freshness and texture were unique. When she combined it with a slightly firm bite of mushroom, the two ingredients complimented each other. “Thank you for sharing, both of you,” she said gratefully.

  Esker looked embarrassed, as if she was reluctant to speak. “I have not been entirely honest with the two of you,” she began. She shrunk further into herself once she had their attention. “I intentionally mislead both of you into thinking that I did not eat the flesh of living creatures, when the truth was that I found much of what you eat upon the surface to be… different than what I would find appetizing,” she put delicately. She bowed her head low. “I apologize for the deception and hope that you will forgive me.”

  “Esk, think nothing of it,” Liadan answered with warmth. “You were in an impossible situation, one that is now reversed. I fully understand how you felt.” She eyed the remaining piece of raw fish in her hand.

  The Tengu’s eyes twinkled with delight. “I would very much like to partake in this meal.” Her stomach protested once more, leading to hearty laughter from all.

  “I accept your apology,” Eógan said mischievously, “but next time I catch a rabbit, you must try some!”

  “I agree to your terms,” Esker responded and accepted the portion of fish he offered.

  “Oh hello, friend,” Eógan said, turning towards an insect with a glistening carapace that had scuttled near him and his bounty of fish. It was slightly bigger than a dog and would have been cute if it had fewer legs and lacked large pincers.

  Esker did not seem alarmed. “That is a pseudoscorpion, they are scavengers. I do not recommend testing its claws, yet they are generally skittish.”

  “This one seems bold, I like it!” Eógan gathered the mound of fish entrails and plopped them closer to the curious arachnid. It shied away from his movement, tested the air with waving hairs on its legs and claws, then scurried to claim its bounty. Liadan was not nearly as enamored by the hideous creature as Eógan was. He started cooing over it while tossing bigger and bigger chunks of the fish. Esker laughed when it caught a piece of fish in its pincer and brought it to its monstrous mouthparts.

  Liadan ignored the others and felt the tug of unbearable weariness. She got as comfortable as one could on the smoother rocks near the lifestream and was soon fast asleep. Tattered wings flapped, even in her dream she could smell the stench of pestilence. The perspective was jarring, like that of an eagle. Dales, glens, and bogs passed far below, there was little sign of civilization. The creature banked, bringing a flock of geese into view, they were insignificantly small in comparison and dispersed at its approach. The land rushed closer as this winged behemoth dove. Small dots became simple huts, ants became people, Pechtish people. There was a familiarity to the aura of evil that Liadan sensed within this monster. “Ah, the little one who was once so full of assurance. Are you afraid to lose your friend?” a mocking voice danced in her head, like a death rattle. “I will bring the boy back to you, for a price.” The monster plummeted closer and closer to its prey. With a furious exhale, it spewed rotting winds. Pechts withered within its wake, the land decayed, Liadan screamed.

  “You are safe,” Esker comforted as Liadan thrashed under her firm grip. They were not alone. A wizened Tengu, wrapped in ancient robes stared at them from across the life stream.