Barbara Siegel - Tanis the shadow years

"Now!" screamed the crone, rearing back and throwing a rock right at Tanis; it splashed next to his head. The boy threw his rock at Brandella. It struck her a glancing blow in the arm; she winced in pain.

"More!" cried the old woman. "Aim for their heads!"

Now it was clear why the ghouls had waited so long to act. The two would stun them, then pull them from the water when they were near the top.

"Dive!" Tanis ordered.

Brandella took as deep a breath as she could manage and dove beneath the surface. A rock hit her in the back as she went head-first into the murky depths.

Tanis followed right behind, a stone grazing his ear just as his face hit the water. He knew one thing: He planned to be as far away as possible from the old woman and the boy when he came up for air.

Swimming a foot below the surface, he blindly stroked his way to the far side of the pit. When he felt the muddy wall, he shot straight up, hoping his momentum would help him reach the edge so he could climb out. Instead, he found himself right underneath the two who wanted his heart. They'd anticipated his move and run to the far side of the pit. Both heaved rocks the size of their fists from a distance of a mere few feet. One struck Tanis in the shoulder. The other narrowly missed his temple; he deflected it with an outstretched arm.

Falling back into the water, Tanis barely had the time to take another breath before diving under again. He swam in no particular direction, and that turned out to be a wise decision. When he came up for air, the hag and her grandson were more than fifteen feet away and the rocks they threw at him sailed wide of their mark.

Tanis didn't see Brandella. He hoped she'd since come up for air and gone down below again. Waiting for her to surface, however, was out of the question. He took three quick breaths, then one deep lungful of air, and dove, even as more rocks came hurtling in his direction.

Once again, Tanis chose a random direction. Swimming deep enough under water to hide his movement, he made his way to another side of the pit. With his lungs afire, he kicked down hard and fought his way to the top, reaching for the dry ground. The two ghouls were not there.

This was his chance. With palms flat on the outside of the pit, he began pulling himself up out of the water. A rock splashed next to his hip. Another rock bounced past his hand. With a grunt, he swung one leg up out of the pit, and then the other. He rolled away from the edge and came up on his feet. The old woman and the boy were dashing toward him, the boy hurling a rock that flew over Tanis's head. The old woman waved her trowel as if it were a dagger. It was sharp enough to be one.

Even now, Tanis would not draw his sword against them. But he had no qualms about defending himself. The boy stopped short of attacking him, but the old woman came at the half-elf with hate in her eyes. "I need your heart I" she wailed.

Tanis grabbed her by the wrist and wrestled the razor- edged trowel out of her hands. The boy lunged for it, but Tanis was faster. He kicked it into the pit; it immediately sank out of sight.

While Tanis restrained the old woman by pinning her arms against her body with a bear hug, Brandella scrambled out of the pit and hurried to his side. She grabbed the boy from behind, swinging his legs off the ground. He flailed and kicked, but she held him tight, her arms strong from years of archery practice.

"What are we going to do with them?" she asked, keeping one arm locked across the boy's chest. His eyes flashed flame at Tanis. "We need time to get away."

Tanis looked at Brandella, and she looked at him, and the same idea struck them simultaneously. With gigantic muddy splashes, the two ghouls landed in the water of the pit.

"I can't swim!" the crone gurgled. The little boy flung both arms around her neck. She struggled in vain to loosen his hold.

"You can't die, either," Tanis called back.

'Tve never been so filthy in my life," Brandella said after they'd walked about a mile.

"Is this what they mean when they say, 'Here's mud in your eye'?" Tanis said, a crooked grin creasing his worn face. She gazed at him, eyebrows raised. She'd tried to wipe away the vestiges of their stint in the tunnel but had succeeded only in spreading the mud more evenly around her face. Some of it had dried to a thin film. "Scowarr would be proud of you, Half-Elven. You've almost developed a funny bone." He snorted. "You're certainly amusing-looking, too," she taunted, "with those streaks of mud in your hair." Tanis countered, "You've changed a bit, as well, since I first saw you that evening in Reehsha's shack." She giggled. "Reehsha's cabin. Wasn't that a palace?" He joined her laughter. "It looked like it hadn't been scrubbed since the Cataclysm." "Well, so do we," she rejoined. They laughed again. Then they sobered as both realized that their companions back at Ankatavaka had vanished with Kishpa's death. They trudged on for some time through the unvarying glare of the sun. The landscape was flat, dry, and dull. Only a few weeds broke through the crust of the ground. After a while, they didn't bother to look up, merely plodding along in silence, heads down. "Maybe we'll find a pond or stream we can wash up in," Tanis finally said. She nodded, scuffing her wet shoes, which she'd fished from the pit with a stick as Tanis warded off the two ghouls with a board from the old woman's wagon. "I wouldn't mind drinking some nice clean water for a change, either. I still have the taste of mud in my mouth." "At least it was something to eat," joked Tanis, his stomach grumbling. The woman met his quip with a smile. Then she looked up and stood stock-still. Tanis took a few extra steps and looked back at her, eyes questioning. "Tanis…" she whispered, indicating the route ahead. He looked up. The mountain of Fistandantilus loomed ahead of them. Suddenly, it was as if the sunshine gave no warmth. He shivered despite the glare. "What's that at the base?" Brandella asked, her voice still quiet. He looked. It was a village.

"I wonder who lives there," Tanis marveled, looking down upon a small village nestled in a shaft of light below Fistandantilus's towering, dark mountain.

"Let's hope they're friendly," ventured Brandella.

They trudged, hungry and thirsty, down the path to the outskirts of a brightly colored, bustling little town. Tanis took note of the humans, dwarves, elves, and gnomes, all of whom were dashing into and out of warm and inviting-looking buildings that lined the main road through the village. He smiled suddenly and laughed.

Brandella gave him a questioning look. A flake of dried mud dropped from her chin to the soiled shirt that used to be green. She said, "You seem to be in surprisingly good spirits, considering where we are."

He had to admit he was. "I always thought of dying as some sort of eternal sleep. But here the sun is always at high noon. It's never dark-except around the bleak, evil mountains-it doesn't rain, the wind doesn't blow… it's like a perfect summer day, every day."

Brandella made a wry face. "Monotonous, isn't it?"

"I hope that we're here just long enough that it doesn't become so," he said.

"Stop!" The new voice came from behind a fence. They stopped and watched in amazement as the owner of the voice, quivering with fear, slid out in front of them. "Stop!"

"We've stopped," Tanis explained patiently.

The creature, which barely came up to Tanis's waist, cringed. "Not hurt me!" It fairly imploded with fear.

"A gully dwarf!" Brandella exclaimed. "What do you suppose it wants?"

In reply, the pudgy little creature pulled a leather pouch from over its shoulder and thrust its hand into the bag. It drew out a squashed piece of fried dough. "Magic!" the gully dwarf squeaked. "Stop!"