Magenta Salvation Page 6

  “No, I have nothing against the ancestors of your race. I have no clue what happened back then, and I’m not going to make judgments now. But you speak as if the world is out to get you. The world barely knows you exist!” Benny knew angering the elders wasn’t wise, but he couldn’t believe how hypocritical and ignorant Voot philosophy was.

  “Be that as it may.” The jovial, inviting grin of the white elder was gone, replaced by a stern, emotionless expression. “We can’t risk the utter destruction of our race by letting intruders, malevolent or no, go free.”

  “I am one human, and barely out of diapers at that.” Benny stood up. “And I am being honest when I say I don’t remember how I arrived in your land, but I do remember my destination before being separated from my companions. I know I must leave here and get to the Northern Mountains…to Alfen Gulfadex! Your backwards, militaristic, exclusionist society depends on it! The world depends on it! I have to leave here!”

  “You speak as if our very existence depends on a whelp of a man like you!” The elders laughed hysterically.

  “I don’t have time to explain it to you ignorant hicks! If I don’t get to Alfen Gulfadex and stop the Kudgel army from summoning the Sky Titans, the entire world will be destroyed. All of Pakk! In the name of the Protector, please let me go!” Benny was frantic.

  The White Voot had a look of anger and confusion. “I do not know of these Kudgels, or of Alfen Gulfadex, or the Sky Titans, but I have heard of the deity known to many as the Protector, and all of the ignorant, pathetic beliefs surrounding him. You come here in an attempt to force religion and false doctrine on us…to manipulate us and trick us into conforming to your society. Tell me, did you come up with this story yourself, human? Or did the Emperor have his royal advisers think this little story up for you? Judging from your appearance, I’d argue the latter!”

  “I'm not trying to convert you,” Benny protested. “Only to make you see the truth.”

  “Guards, take this hairless worm back into the dungeons!” the elder on the right screamed.

  Benny was grabbed under the armpit by the same guard as earlier, and before he was out of earshot heard the voice of the white elder making his final statement. “When your god’s dead and forgotten, will he mourn for you?”

  

  Benny’s clothes were stripped off him and he was thrown back into the muddy crypt the guard had pulled him from earlier. In the darkness, he heard a gruff voice chuckling, and figured it was the prisoner he’d talked to earlier.

  “Go that well, huh?” he said.

  “Just about,” Benny said. “Join or die.”

  “Throw that crap at you, too, eh? Die we will, but not by execution…we’ll spend the rest of our miserable days in this hellhole. They want to forget about us, not kill us.”

  Benny looked in the direction of the door. “Is there any way of escaping? How strong is the door? Can it be broken down if enough of us work it over?”

  “No way, it’s reinforced with steel and it’s enchanted. Even if you could break through, though, there’s a guard just outside. And if you get past him, you have the rest of the dungeon maze to work your way through and countless other soldiers. No, you’re pretty much screwed. Make yourself comfortable, kid.”

  Benny didn’t respond, leaning back against the cold stone wall, his bare behind sitting on sparse amounts of hay and some wet substance; he tried not to guess what it was. So he sat in darkness, drifting in and out of sleep; it seemed pointless to try and find a way to escape. If Dale were here it’d be different, Benny thought. He’d use a mage cry and blast his way out…or if Virtue were here she might’ve given me a strength bite or something. But “what ifs” didn’t mean much when locked in a dungeon. Minutes turned into hours, and hours seemed to turn into days. For all Benny knew, it might have been only a matter of seconds before the door finally opened, but in the darkness it was an eternity. As the door opened, torchlight illuminated the room as a Voot soldier rapidly crossed the threshold and grabbed Benny by the arm. Half asleep, Benny jerked away from him and prepared to fight for his life, thinking his execution near. “Knock it off, you fool, I’m saving your ass!”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’ll explain later.” He shoved Benny into the dim corridor, pulling him in the opposite direction the other soldier had taken him earlier. “It’s night out and most of the guards are off duty. They don’t know I’m doing this, so we gotta act quickly.”

  “You know a way out?” Benny asked.

  “You think I’d be doing this if I didn’t?”

  They made sharp turns, traversed staircases, and at one point even crawled through a narrow tunnel. The Voot explained on the way that the dungeons Benny had been in were actually the ruins of an older Voot city, which had been built over and converted over the centuries. Only about a tenth of this old city was used for the dungeon, and most of it had been forgotten. “I’ve been exploring this place most of my life. I know it like the back of my hand, so stay close to me. Once you get lost down here, you’ll never get back out.” They followed an ancient sewer system, and soon Benny was led to the small entrance, where they traversed a narrow stairway until they reached the outdoors. They came out onto a rocky outcropping on a hill on the edge of the wood, overlooking a small, dirt path.

  “Take that path. There’s a small human settlement a few hours walk from here. And here, you’ll need this…” From a pack on his back, the Voot handed Benny his clothing, weapons, and magic staff. It had to be an enchanted bag, because there was no way all that stuff could have fit inside it, especially the staff and sword.

  Benny turned towards the Voot. “Why did you help me?”

  “I overheard your conversation with the Elders, and I agreed with a lot of what you were saying. They’re stubborn old hypocrites. They’ve shut us off from the world, and limited our people to the minute confines of our hiding hole. Our civilization was once the center of trade in Upper Sultry…maybe all of Pakk. Now, we are a merely a shard of our former glory: a handful of paranoid fools cowering within our walls. While I’m skeptical of this ‘protector’ you spoke of, I do know of the Kudgels and the threat they pose, and if you reaching the Northern Mountains will help put an end to their rampage, I want no part in hindering you. I could tell from the tone of your voice you were sincere.”

  “You’re not like the others…seems like you’ve experienced a lot of this world,” Benny stated.

  The Voot chuckled. “I have. I discovered at a young age that, while by race I was Voot, my heart was not. I discovered this secret passageway, and ventured many times from our lands. I even managed to compete in the tournament in the Imperial city not long ago.”

  “I thought you looked familiar. I think you fought my friend Helena, the Amazon. But why are you still here if you dislike it so much? Even now, you could flee this place and never look back.”

  The Voot shook his head. “Because despite what I feel, they are my people…this is my home. And it is my duty to protect and guide them. Perhaps if I can one day become an elder, I can guide our people away from the crude, selfish ideologies they now follow. I wish you farewell, and I hope you are reunited with your companions.”

  They shook hands, and the Voot walked back towards the entrance to the sewers. Benny didn’t ask the tiger-man his name, nor did he try to change his mind about the Protector. He’d saved Benny’s life, and Benny owed him respect. The Voot’s path was his own. Nobody, neither Benny nor the Protector, could walk it for him. He had to find the Protector for himself, in his own way, as Benny had. So, with a silent prayer, he descended the sloping hill towards the dirt trail.

  Chapter 5

  Helena

  “D addy, let her go!” Noletta screamed.

  The cruel grip on Helena's throat paused. “What's it to you, child?” Nolan demanded.

  “She's a good woman. Decent company. She treats me like a person. She didn't do nothing to you. She just doesn't know what sets you off. She was
just answering your question. Let her be.”

  “Out of the mouths of children…” Nolan murmured as his grip eased and Helena was able to breathe again.

  “’Pologize,” Noletta demanded.

  Now, the man chuckled under his breath. “As if there were doubt who governs this household.” He took a breath. “Helena, I apologize for treating you roughly. You didn't know.”

  “I didn't know,” Helena agreed. But she was learning.

  “A while back I had a fling with a pretty girl. Men do, you know. In the morning she went her way and I thought nothing of it. I never even knew her name, just that she was willing and had nice legs.” He smiled reminiscently. “Very nice legs. Years later, Dale—yes, you may say his name, now that I've reorganized my priorities—sought me, knowing I was his father. That was when I learned he existed. It was a surprise, nay, a shock, and I reacted badly. I was obsessed with my fame as an adventurer and feared that his presence would prejudice my reputation. I was supposed to be a warrior, not a casual lover! So I shunned him, and he departed.”

  “May I—” Helena hesitated. “May I express an opinion?” It wasn't that she was afraid of him, for she was taking his measure and knew that she could defend herself against him hereafter if necessary. She was, after all, a warrior, and the same stunts would not catch her again. It was that she was utterly fascinated with what he was saying, filling in key background on Dale, and she didn't want to cause him to stop.

  “Sure, we're talking, and you've got a right.”

  “She's got a right,” Noletta agreed.

  “It's that he's changed. Virtue Vampire bit him, and he turned from evil to good. He's a different man now, and he's trying to make up for all the damage he did in his bad years. I think you need to know that.”

  “I do,” Nolan agreed. “But that came later. When Dale was older, I regretted turning my back on him. He was, after all, my son. I sought him out and tried to make peace with him. But he was vindictive and refused to accept my apology. I fear that I was part of the reason he became the monster he was. Had I accepted him and taught him the right way to be…” He shook his head. “But it was far too late to undo the way I had hurt him. So I let him be, hoping that he would straighten out on his own, in time.”

  “He had become radicalized,” Helena said. “That's usually a one-way route.”

  “A dire way,” Nolan agreed. “Later, I found out the truth about the Alsbury massacre. That was too much! So, I tracked Dale down and confronted him, telling him that this had to end. But he drew his sword on me. On me, his father! That showed how far he had drifted. I had to put him down. But he had become an excellent swordsman, and it was no easy chore. Yet even in combat, I misjudged him, not actually wanting to hurt him, hoping he would back off. Instead, he grievously smote my arm. It became evident that he had no scruples about trying to kill me. So I disarmed him—that is, by knocking away his sword—and clubbed him on the head, knocking him out. But I still hesitated to kill him, so I left him, knowing he would survive. He would have to know I could readily have killed him, and maybe that would make him think, and realize how wrong he had gone.”

  “It didn't,” Helena said.

  Nolan nodded. “I was foolish to think it would. I just didn't want to believe that my bloodline could veer into evil. Yet I knew I had allowed it, by my prior rejection; there was significant fault in me. The loss of my arm was my penalty for that error. So I removed myself from society, determined to do no further ill. I built my home in the forest and lived alone, a hermit. Until a dryad happened by.” Now he smiled reminiscently.

  “Dryads can be fetching,” Helena said. They were bare nymphs with greenish hair, usually shy around people. If a man were somehow able to catch one, he could do with her what he wished, which was usually only one thing. She noticed that Noletta was paying close, silent attention; this was evidently a subject that interested her.

  “They can, indeed. Ordinarily, I would not have been tempted by such a nymph, but Desdemona was different. Her name meant Girl of Sadness, and she was that. She had been rejected by her sister nymphs because she was allergic to oak trees, and of course dryads are creatures of oak. So she took up residence in a white ash tree not far from where I lived. Because she was lonely and she sensed that I was too, she came to me for such limited comfort I could provide. Of course, all I saw at first was her lovely, bare body. I thought she would spook and flee if ever I tried to touch her because my loss of an arm made me ugly. Instead, she wordlessly took my hand in hers. Dryads can talk, but seldom do, at least to mortals. She led me to her tree, and I was surprised that it was not an oak, but it was straight and tall, towering above other trees. She seemed to think that this would make me reject her, but I had no preference for one type of tree over another. ‘The ash is a fine tree, with very good hard straight wood,’ I said. ‘I am glad to have you with it; I know the tree will prosper.’ Then she smiled, and kissed me, and led me back to my home, and soon we were lovers.”

  Helena nodded. “Your arm made you ugly to your kind, and her tree made her ugly to her kind. You had ugliness in common, in the eyes of some others.”

  “But not to each other,” he agreed. “What a delight to me she was, and I think I meant something to her too. Our nights were no longer lonely. I thought I would never love again, but I loved her. She learned to do some housework, and I made sure that nothing molested her tree. I called her my piece of ash, trusting that she did not know my language well enough to pick up on the naughty humor. And in due course she got with child; it turned out that dryads have enough human stock to be inter-fertile with us, if they choose. Perhaps that was her intention, to have a family, since her own kind balked her. I took care of her during her pregnancy, by watering and fertilizing her tree, and finally she birthed Noletta.”

  “Oh,” Helena said, surprised. “Of course.” Somehow she had not made that connection before.

  “I'm half dryad,” Noletta said proudly. “I can't touch oak, but I can do anything with ash. So I'm a chip of ash.”

  Helena kept a straight face, hoping the child did not know the humor. “And where is Desdemona now? I haven't seen her here.”

  Both father and daughter suddenly sobered. “Her tall ash tree was struck by lightning in a storm, and it burned to a husk. Mona couldn't exist without it; she faded away. The ash was an ash.” He was not smiling. “I salvaged enough of the remaining heartwood to build onto the cabin. Where Noletta and I can sit to feel close to her, and I shaped and polished small pieces for us both.” The two of them held up finely grained, egg-shaped slivers, pendants on thin chains around their necks. “It makes us feel closer to her.”

  Helena was almost sorry she had asked. “I regret bringing up the subject. I did not mean to stir painful memories.”

  “There's never any pain with Mommy Mona,” Noletta said. “We like remembering her. Her spirit is always with us.”

  “In the pendants!” Helena said.

  “Yes,” Nolan agreed. “She was always imbued in the tree, and she animates these last pieces of it.”

  “We kiss her, and she kisses us back,” Noletta said.

  Surely they were imagining that. “That's nice,” Helena said noncommittally.

  But the child picked up on her doubt. “We can prove it! Here, kiss the pendant. If she likes you, she'll kiss you.”

  Nolan nodded. It seemed he shared the fantasy. Both of them really missed the dryad.

  “Uh, Amazons have not had much to do with dryads. She probably wouldn't—”

  Noletta held the pendant toward her. “Kiss her! You'll see.”

  What could she do? Helena kissed the pendant.

  And it kissed her back. “Oh, my,” she said, quietly stunned.

  “See! She likes you! She knows you're here to help us.”

  “Dryads are magical beings,” Nolan said. “Her spirit infused the wood of the living tree, and now infuses the remnants. It's small magic, but meaningful for us.”

&nbs
p; “I see that,” Helena agreed. “She did kiss me. I'm sorry I didn't know her.”

  Nolan looked at his daughter questioningly. Slowly, she nodded. What was in their minds?

  Nolan crossed to the white ash panel, where the cabin had been added to. He reached into a small chest there and brought out a third pendant, mounted on a slender chain. He handed it to Noletta.

  The child brought it to Helena. “Wear this,” she said.

  “But I have no connection to Desdemona,” she protested. “I was not her friend or relative.”

  “You are the courier,” Nolan said. “It is for Dale. Give it to him. If it accepts him, the mending will begin.”

  “Oh.” Helena bent her head down, and Noletta put the chain over her head so that it became a necklace with the pendant in front. She felt its gentle animation as it touched her skin. “Yes.”

  “If it kisses him,” Noletta explained.

  There was a silence. To abate the awkwardness, Helena changed the subject. She looked at a hanging tapestry on a wall. It depicted a tanned youth under a golden sun taking a dragon by the horns. “I have heard of taking a bull by the horns, but a dragon? That's an expedient way to get scorched and killed.”

  Nolan shrugged. “It was a gift from one of my earliest adventures. Until I killed the dragon earlier this night, I had never actually done it before. Only wrestling them.”

  “You were a virgin in that respect?” Helena asked, smiling. She felt she had come to know him well enough now to tease him a bit.

  “Just because I never killed a dragon before doesn't mean I didn't know how. The villagers who hired me to kill what they thought was a dragon were mistaken. It was actually a red harpy that had been terrorizing their livestock.” He went to the tapestry and drew it back. Behind it was a winter scene, set at night, with a scrawny, scraggly haired youth in buckskins being hauled into the air by the talons of a harpy. But he was in the process of sticking it in the breast with a dagger.