neetha Napew - Son Of Spellsinger

Buncan turned to look over his shoulder. The sun was lightening the eastern sky, but it wasn’t the sun that rooted Chi-churog’s followers in place. It was something that had appeared between the village and the sun.

Two towering buttes looked down into the box canyon. Both were shuddering violently, enormous boulders and slabs of sandstone sloughing from their sides. Buncan remembered how as they’d progressed through the Tamas he and his friends had made a game of finding shapes and outlines and faces in the cold rock.

It was apparent now that they hadn’t imagined those creations.

As more and more stone slid from its shoulders, the outline of a gigantic armored ape became visible. Spikes and blades projected from its burnished armor and a fringed helmet adorned the low-browed skull. Slowly, ponderously, it uncoiled from the crouching position in which it had been trapped for untold eons. An ax the size of a small town dangled from one immense hand.

The second butte collapsed to reveal a great cat of unidentifiable lineage. Its armor differed dramatically from that of the ape but was no less awe-inspiring. As one huge paw thrust a short sword skyward to pierce a low-hanging cloud, the liberated giant let out a roar that reverberated like thunder across the canyon.

Not only was the sight sufficient to send Chi-churog and the rest of the Xi-Murogg fleeing in panic, it was plenty impressive enough to intimidate Buncan as well. Not having enough sense to be afraid, the otters sang on.

Buncan removed his fingers from the duar and waved at them. “Hey, guys, I think maybe that’s enough.” The otters ignored him, utterly focused on their rap. Beyond the sheer sandstone walls, monstrous ape and gargantuan cat were turning curious, unnatural eyes toward the fault sounds emanating from the bottom of the box canyon.

Buncan slung his duar across his back and grabbed each otter by the neck, using force instead of reason to choke off their singing. “I said that’s enough.” He indicated the two titanic figures. “Let’s go.”

Clutching its ax, the ape was leaning over the canyon wall for a better look. As the edge crumbled beneath immense hands boulders crashed into the fields below, smashing fruit trees and threatening to bounce into the village itself. Wailing Xi-Murogg dashed in all directions, not knowing what to do. The riders who moments earlier had been intent on spitting Buncan and his friends were now desperately trying to control their spooked mounts.

“Whoa,” said Squill as Buncan dragged him and his sister toward the waiting Snaugenhutt, “I told you those rocks looked like a monkey.”

“You did not,” Neena objected vociferously.

“Not now.” Buncan shoved them halfway up the rhino’s capacious back. As soon as he followed them and before he was even settled in his seat, Viz chirped into the hairy ear he was holding.

“Now, Snaug! Let’s move!”

With a nod and a snort the rhino turned and rumbled out of the village, heading at an inspired gallop for the cleft in the canyon walls. No one tried to stop him. Once he got up to speed, nothing short of a natural disaster could.

Only a terrified and completely frustrated Chi-churog took a swipe at them with his sword as they hurtled past. The blade shattered on Snaugenhutt’s armor. Their last view of the First Rider saw him hopping up and down amidst the confusion of his panicked village, hurling imprecations in their wake.

A few rocks fell from the rim of the chasm as Snaugenhutt barreled through, but they missed the riders on his back. Of the armed Xi-Murogg who normally guarded the way out there was no sign.

As they emerged into open desert Buncan allowed himself a sigh of relief. “That’s it. We did it, we made it.”

Snaugenhutt was slowing. “Don’t count your retirement money yet, human.”

Off to their left the armored ape stood tapping his massive ax against an open palm the size of a small plateau. The rising sun glinting off his red armor made him look as if he was on fire. Nearby, the sword-wielding giant cat stood surveying the landscape, its pointed ears scraping the clouds. Moreover, they were no longer alone. Snaugenhutt came to a halt. As far as they could see, perhaps a third of the buttes and mesas of the Tamas were coming to life, each one revealing and releasing a different soldier from some long-forgotten war of the titans. One by one they sloughed off their ancient shackles the way a sleeping human might shed a cosmetic mudpack, rising to their feet and stretching mightily in the warming sun. The noise of ton upon ton of cracking, crumbling, falling rock was deafcrumbling, falling rock was deafd from side to side, searching. “Which way?”

Gragelouth cupped his hands to his mouth to make himself heard. “Northwest, Snaugenhutt! Ever to the northwest!”

Viz pivoted on his perch atop the rhino’s head. “Why?” The sloth shrugged. “That is where we must go, and under the circumstances it seems as good a way as any.”

Viz nodded, relaying the instructions to Snaugenhutt. The rhino resumed his heavy-footed lope, heading down a slope in the indicated direction.

As he jogged along, rock spilled from the butte on their immediate right. Something with three heads emerged, unlike anything Buncan had ever seen or heard described. Four legs supported the squat body, and a barbed tail the size of an oceangoing ship whipped reflexively back and forth. Each hand held a club the size of Clothahump’s tree. Espying them, the monstrosity let out a bellow and reached down with a third hand that blotted out the sun as it descended. Even though Snaugenhutt accelerated to his maximum speed, Buncan saw there was no possibility of avoiding those immense fingers. They would smash them flat or pluck them from the ground as easily as he would a flower. Gragelouth was mumbling something under his breath, the otters held each other, Viz bravely elected to perish with his old friend, and Buncan simply shut his eyes.

He felt something massive but controlled patting bun gently on the head. Opening his eyes, he saw that the hand was similarly caressing his companions.

It withdrew, and the apparition straightened. Its subsequent bellowing could, with difficulty, be comprehended.

“FREE! FREE FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE BEFORE TIME!” The barbed tail lashed a gully in the ground as the entity’s three heads inclined to stare down at them. “I WHO HAVE KNOWN NOTHING BUT TIME NOW SAY THERE IS NOT ENOUGH TIME WITH WHICH TO THANK YOU FOR YOUR SONG.”

Squill grinned nonchalantly. “Well, you know ‘ow it is, guv. We just like to sing.”

“Yeah, ‘e’s a real altruist, me bro’ is.” Buncan threw Neena a warning look. Naturally she ignored him.

All around them, as far as they could see, the liberated giants were embracing. Some were crying pond-sized tears. Others clapped long-petrified acquaintances on the back, sending booming shock waves rolling across the plain.

“I wonder how many have come this way before and remarked on the outlines in the rocks,” Gragelouth murmured, “never dreaming it was not then’ imaginations at work but their perception.”

Since it was apparent they were not about to be crushed into paste, Snaugenhutt saw no harm in slowing to a walk. Shielding his gaze against the rising sun, Buncan spoke to the specter.

“What will you do now that you’re free?”

The three heads replied in chorus. “WHY, RETURN TO WHERE WE CAME FROM, OF COURSE. IF IT STILL EXISTS.”

An utterly unexpected voice bellowed behind them. “I’ll loll you all. I am not afraid of anything, be it god or mortal!”

Squill turned in his seat. “Well, I’ll be double-buggered. Look who’s comin’.”

Waving his sword defiantly above his head, Chi-churog, First Rider of the Xi-Murogg, was galloping in pursuit, urging his nervous blindered mount onward while screaming defiance.