David Farland - Lords of the Seventh Swarm

Yet as Gallen studied the map, he did not think the area looked promising. The bluffs weren’t large enough to support a city like the one he imagined.

“Why do you think the Qualeewoohs built here?” Gallen asked Felph, not because he needed an answer, but because he wanted the old man to confirm his own ideas.

“A rookery,” Felph said. “Aside from holy places which are more historic sites than anything else, I don’t see that the Qualeewoohs ever built anything except as a rookery.”

Gallen considered what little he knew of Qualeewoohs’ habits. At Felph’s palace the Qualeewoohs had built rookeries into the face of the cliffs-and this whole valley was ringed with such cliff faces.

“The Qualeewoohs like to set their rookeries high,” Gallen said.

“And far from water, to avoid predators,” Felph agreed.

Gallen imagined himself winging through the cliffs that ringed the valley. As he did, he whispered, “They want shelter from wind. It keeps their clooes warmer, and it makes it easier for the chicks to learn to fly-fewer drafts and crosscurrents.”

Gallen traced his finger along the cliffs. Felph began pacing beside him.

“They need some running water.” Gallen considered. “It’s too heavy to carry easily.” He reached the very mouth of the canyon at the far north. Two arms of the mesa jutted out, each running a northeast, northwest angle. At the very lip where the mountains met, lay a deep defile. A river would be there.

“Between the arms of these mountains,” Gallen whispered. “This is where I would look for Teeawah.” Gallen felt almost certain he was right.

“Congratulations,” Felph said. “Your very first try, and you have found it. Do you know how many hundreds of men have lost their lives in expeditions to this region? In all the Great Tangle, there is not a more treacherous pit than the one you pointed out. The place is crawling with sfuz who have tunneled their warrens around there for kilometers. I’ve tried to make the bottom of those cliffs many times.”

“What are sfuz?” Gallen asked.

“Hunters, like giant … monkeys,” Athena answered. “Or maybe more like spiders. They hunt in so many ways.”

Gallen could see that to describe them would be pointless. What was the winged creature he had just seen? A dragon? That name perhaps best described the beast, yet it seemed woefully inadequate. What name would describe a florafeem? A giant flying half a clam?

No words sufficed.

“The sfuz set snares for unwary animals.” Felph tried to be more helpful. “And they’re just as likely to track you down while you’re sleeping. But they can be far more canny: they train other animals to do their bidding. The word sfuz is a Qualeewooh word. Though we often translate it as hunter, it also means relentless.

“How do they kill?” Gallen asked.

“Nothing elaborate,” Felph said. “With tooth and claw, which may be painted with poisons extracted from other animals. But the sfuz are very strong. They’re adapted to an environment where they must climb up and down as easily as we move across the earth. And like other animals on Ruin, they’re fast-much faster than most. In the tangle, quick reflexes seem to be the preferred adaptation. The sfuz walk more quickly than we run. In close quarters, in short bursts, they run almost faster than the eye can see.

“If I am right, the ancient ruins are home to the largest single nest of sfuz on Ruin.”

Gallen said, “You mentioned that they train other animals, use snares-are these creatures sentient?”

Felph seemed to consider. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “The sfuz never talk to you, never seem to reason, but they know a hundred ways to kill you. Are such creatures sentient?”

“He is not telling you everything,” Athena said. »The sfuz here in the tangle of Teeawah are fearsome. I have fought sfuz in other areas-but none like this! They regenerate. They can’t be killed!”

Felph laughed. “Don’t get the man excited. That can’t be proved. They may regenerate, but we don’t know that they’re immortal.”

“It’s true,” Athena said. “I killed one near my campsite. A few hours later, it roused and slew me!”

“There was a Glitch in the transmission your Guide sent,” Felph argued. “I’ve explained it before: when that version of you died, the Guide it wore sent the downloaded memories. The Guide must have been damaged in the attack. That’s all. A simple transmission error.”

Gallen felt skeptical. Immortal predators? Felph had said that no one had ever reached Teeawah, that the predators here were unusually nasty. Yet this seemed too much to believe. Still, he knew it would be dangerous. A question lodged at the back of Gallen’s mind, something he feared to ask. “Is there a reason why so many sfuz nest here? Does this jungle provide more prey?”

Felph shook his head. “We are talking about a region deep within the tangle, without light, where few animals can survive. I don’t think the tangle here could provide enough food for the population. The sfuz must be transporting food for hundreds of kilometers.”

“That would take a great deal of effort,” Gallen said. “Such effort doesn’t make sense for predators.”

“Agreed,” Felph said.

“So what if these aren’t just warrens under there?”

“What do you mean by that?” Felph asked.

Gallen stared at the topographic map. Everything suddenly seemed to make sense. “Imagine man has made a great discovery, the Waters of Strength, something that-I don’t know-transforms him into something more than human. It lets him conquer self, nature, time, space. So he drinks the Waters, and all the men on earth leave.

“But then baboons come, and they too drink of the Waters. Only the Waters weren’t made for them. Maybe they’re not bright enough to understand what they’re for. When they drink the Waters, they find themselves able to regenerate. How important would those Waters become? Would you want your enemies, or your prey, to find them? Would you simply nest in that region, or would you fortify it?”

Lord Felph’s eyes grew wide at the implications.

“A fortress’?” Athena asked. You think they’ve built a fortress?”

Felph in contemplation. “Interesting.” He said. “I must admit I’ve never considered that possibility. Obviously you have a military mind. A fortress, to protect something of value …”

Gallen stared down at the map, pointed to an abutment on the side of the mountain. “This is where we’ll go in.”

Maggie spent much of the day in her room, lost in thought. She could see why Zeus would be terrified after Lord Felph’s maniacal display this morning. The murder of Zeus’s clones, the sight of his brains spattering against the floor, had shocked Maggie to the core. Certainly it must have dismayed Zeus even more.

If Maggie were Zeus, she’d leave, too. Indeed, this whole morning, Maggie had been thinking: whatever her promise to Lord Felph the night before, she saw now he was mad. She’d come to Ruin searching for a place to bear her child in peace. She’d hoped Felph’s palace might afford security.

Now she had to wonder. Felph frightened her; but what had he really done?

Destroyed clones-lumps of unaware flesh. Violence against clones, however terrifying was not the same as violence against a person.

Still, Felph seemed threatening.

Or was he simply trying to teach a lesson? Felph claimed he wanted to teach his children responsibility. They’d never had to learn the consequences of their actions.

Silently, Maggie damned Felph for what he’d done to his own children. Never mind that he claimed to love them. He was as manipulative as anyone she’d ever met.