Chapter 2

The Mouse and the Monster

 

 

It was early, still several hours before dawn. A single lamp above her door filled the narrow brick and stone passage with an unnatural white light. The air was cool, and still, and quiet. The only sounds came from Musuka’s pounding heart and the heavy breathing of the giant standing behind him.

Everything had gone as Musuka had planned. He had used the magic to blind the watchers, allowing him and Akandu to enter the tower unnoticed and climb the great stair. Then, with the watchers still blind, they had passed through the halls and found where she slept. All that remained was for Musuka to use magic to unbolt the door to her chambers and Akandu would slay her. But fear had taken hold of Musuka, and he was no longer sure he could go through with it. He closed his eyes and fought to control his urge to flee.

As if sensing his thoughts, Akandu placed one of his enormous gray hands on Musuka’s head and squeezed, just a little at first, but enough.

“What is the problem, mouse?” The giant’s low, rumbling voice shook Musuka like thunder.

Musuka tried to wiggle free of Akandu’s hold, but the giant’s grip tightened. It felt as if the powerful gray fingers were about to crush his skull. Musuka shut his eyes against the agonizing pressure that threatened to pop them from their sockets.

“P-p-please s-s-stop,” Musuka begged, losing all control over his stutter.

“It hurts?” Akandu rasped. The skin on the back of Musuka’s neck tingled from the giant’s hot breath.

“Y-y-yes. I-I ka-ka can’t take the pa-pa-pain. Please stop.”

“Speak like a man or keep your pathetic mouth shut,” Akandu growled.

“W-w-why m-m-must we k-k-kill her?” It was just the kind of question a miserable mouse would ask, and Musuka hated himself for asking it. He knew why. The witch sleeping inside the chamber knew his magic, knew how he passed unseen and opened doors that should not open. Killing in the dream world was no longer enough. If he was to become what he had to become, he would have to use the magic to kill in this world, and that meant she had to die. Sh-sh-she had to.

“Open the door, mouse, or I will put an end to our alliance.” The giant’s fingers tightened, emphasizing the manner of termination.

“We m-m-must be ka-ka-careful, or they will ka-ka-catch me.”

Akandu laughed a pitiless, menacing laugh. “Why do I care what happens to a mouse?”

The pressure in Musuka’s head was unbearable. He would lose consciousness soon. Akandu had done it to him before. Musuka took a deep breath and, summoning all his courage, he said in a clear, stutter-free voice, “Because without me, you’re nothing here.”

Akandu’s grip loosened, as if he was surprised by Musuka’s declaration and perhaps the boldness of its delivery. “Is that so?” he said with a rumbling chuckle. Then the fingers squeezed even tighter than before, causing Musuka to cry out. The world went dark, and just as Musuka was certain Akandu intended to kill him, the pressure stopped. The giant had let him go.

Musuka turned and looked up into Akandu’s black, empty eyes. He sensed the balance of power had shifted, if only for a moment, and he considered sending the giant away. He hated Akandu almost as much as he hated the queen, but like the giant had said, they had an alliance based on mutual need. Musuka needed Akandu’s strength and fearlessness, and Akandu needed Musuka’s magic to bring him into this world.

“Suit yourself, mouse,” Akandu growled. “I will go back to where I belong.” The giant spun and headed back toward the stairway.

Musuka called after him, “P-p-please d-d-don’t go.”

Akandu stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Open the door and stop wasting my time.”

Musuka bent over the chamber’s lock and waved the magic box. The locking mechanism clicked, and the door opened.

The giant pushed Musuka aside and ducked through the doorway, drawing his great sword as he went. Musuka sighed, then followed him in and closed the door.