THE MOMENT Thomas stepped into the black forest, Teeleh took to the trees with a mighty swoosh. Thomas gripped the red sword with renewed intensity. No fruit, no green, nothing but black. Like walking through a burned-out forest at night.
He stopped. “Which way?”
Teeleh looked down from a tree just ahead. The bat looked too large for the spindly branch he clung to. His beady eyes stared at Thomas, a cross between wonder and disbelief. Or was Thomas simply projecting his own disbelief that he was actually heading in willfully?
Teeleh swept into the air and flew on without responding. He wanted Thomas to follow.
Thomas followed. His heart hammered steadily. He knew he didn’t belong here, but still he kept pushing one foot in front of the other.
Clicking and fluttering all around him. No voices. Only the sound of endless wings beating the air and countless claws grabbing at branches as the bats moved from tree to tree.
The air was cool. It was dark down here on the forest floor. Without leaves to block the sun, he would’ve thought . . .
Thomas looked up. The trees did have a canopy—a hundred thousand black bats directly above, peering down with red eyes. Wordless. Flapping, clicking. They formed a giant black umbrella that followed him deeper and deeper into the forest.
Light from a clearing dawned ahead, and Thomas picked up his pace, drawn by the prospect of getting out from under the living canopy.
Coming into the forest was a mistake. He knew that now. He didn’t care if there was a spaceship ahead; the shroud of evil hovering above him would never allow him to escape alive. He would catch his breath in this clearing and return to the Crossing. Maybe he could negotiate with—
Thomas stopped. Sunlight reflected off a shiny metal surface across the bare meadow. A ship?
His heart bolted.
A spaceship.
Thomas stumbled forward three steps.
He knew it! He was a pilot from Earth. He had gone through a wormhole or something and crash-landed on this distant planet trapped in time. Here there was good and there was evil, and the two hadn’t mixed. But he was different because he was from Earth.
Thomas sprinted toward the spaceship. A dark flock of Shataiki flew in circles above the meadow, whooping and sneering in shrill pitches. The craft sat on its belly, majestic. He remembered this. It was a space shuttle with broad wings. The white shell looked shiny and new. There was a flag on its tail, Stars and Stripes. United States. Big blue letters on the side read Discovery III.
Thomas reached the ship just as the drove of Shataiki settled on trees above the craft. He glanced their way and, seeing no change in their behavior, ran his hand along the smooth metal of the fuselage. No tears, no patches. Restored.
Thomas rounded the craft and pulled the release latch. With a hiss that startled him, the door swung slowly up. The hydraulics still worked. He shoved the sword through the opening and clambered in after it.
The sword glowed in the darkness, giving off just enough light for Thomas to see his old cockpit. He couldn’t remember any of it, but apparently it, too, had been completely repaired. He stood and walked to the main control panel, using the sword to light his way. The master power switch rested in the off position. Surely there could be no power after such a long time. Then again, whoever repaired this craft surely knew mechanics as well as they knew upholstery.
Thomas held his breath, reached down, and flipped the red toggle. Immediately the air filled with a hum. Lights blinked on all around him. He wiped at the sweat gathered above his eyes and gazed at the lighted instruments before him. He stroked the leather captain’s chair and smiled in the cabin’s artificial light. But the smile immediately faded. He had no clue what to do with this magnificent craft.
Bill. He needed Bill. Please let Bill be alive.
Thomas flipped the switch back off, returned to the door, and lowered himself through the hatch.
If the Shataiki had killed Bill . . .
He shoved the sword into the ground and turned to close the hatch. He grabbed the door with both hands and pulled down against the hydraulic pressure.
Wings fluttered behind him. He released the door and whirled around just in time to see Teeleh descending on the sword still stuck in the earth. His heart leaped into his throat. How could the bat touch the sword? It was like poison, Tanis had said!
But even as he thought it, he realized that the sword had changed. It no longer glowed with the red luster it had just seconds ago. The Shataiki ripped the useless stick out of the ground with a snarl.
“Now you are mine, you fool! Seize him.”
Every last nerve in Thomas’s body froze at the words. A dozen shrieking Shataiki streaked out of the trees and descended on him before he could convince his muscles to move.
The ship! He could get into the ship!
Thomas spun around. There was no ship.
THERE WAS NO SHIP!
Michal’s words strung through his mind. He is the deceiver.
A scream wrenched itself from his chest, the kind of full-throated scream that shreds vocal cords. Talons bit into his flesh. He gasped, swallowing the scream.
The small stick at his back! He had to reach it.
Thomas grasped at his back, but the world tipped and he landed on the ground, hard. He tried to strike out. Furry bodies suffocated him. He had to get the colored wood from his waist, but the bats were in his face, digging at his flesh. He instinctively brought his knees up in a fetal position and buried his face in his arms.
“Bring him to the forest!”
A single talon swiped at his back and cut to his spine. Thomas arched his back and groaned. They lashed twine around his neck and feet, and he was powerless to fight against it. Then they began to pull, dragging him a few inches at a time along the ground, wheezing and groaning against his weight.
“Use this, you imbeciles,” he heard a Shataiki screech. Bitter, high-pitched arguing. “This way . . .”
“No, you fool . . .”
“Hurry . . .”
“Let go, or I’ll cut your hand off!”
“Out of my way . . .”
He was being dragged slowly along the forest floor. They’d tied a towrope to his bindings, and no fewer than a hundred black bats were successfully pulling him along the ground.
Sharp objects cut into his back. He moaned and felt the world spin around him. The last thing he saw was the clearing beyond his feet.
The one without a spaceship.
Thomas awoke to the violent, stinging drag of a taloned claw across his face.
“Wake up!” a distant voice screamed at him. “Wake up! You think you can just sleep through this? Wake up!”
He pried his eyes open and saw a fire dancing at his feet. Where was he? He struggled to raise his head. A clawed fist beat down on his cheek, snapping his head to one side. He began to slip away.
Another loud slap on his right cheek brought him back. “Wake, you useless slab of meat!” Teeleh’s voice.
Thomas opened his eyes and saw that he’d been strapped to an upright device by his wrists and his ankles. Scores of the hairy creatures danced about a huge fire roughly thirty feet away. Thousands of beady eyes dotted the dark forest.
He lifted his eyes slowly. Maybe hundreds of thousands. Teeleh stood on a platform to his right.
A Shataiki swooped in from his perch, screeching with delight. “He’s awake! He’s awake! Can I—”
With a throaty snarl, a huge black beast whirled and swatted the smaller Shataiki from the air. The bat fell to the ground with a thud. Others quickly pounced on him and dragged his twitching body into the shadows.
A hush fell over the gathering. Fire crackled. Shataiki wheezed. A sea of red eyes hovered over him. But it was the image of the large bat, drilling him with glowing red eyes, that struck terror in Thomas’s heart.
This was Teeleh.
He’d changed. His skin was pitch-black and cracked, oozing a clear fluid. His wings were flaking, shedding long swaths of fur. Lips peeled back to reveal crusted, yellow fangs. A fly slowly crawled over one of his eyes— red now—but the beast didn’t appear to notice.
Thomas rolled his head from left to right. The device on which they had hung him creaked with his movement. He was bound to a crude wooden beam planted upright with a similar beam fixed perpendicular. A cross. They had bound him to the cross with twine. Streaks of blood ran from a dozen gashes on his chest.
He slowly turned farther to his right. The beast’s red eyes bulged larger than he remembered. If his hands had been free, he could have reached out and clawed the morbid balls from the fiend’s face. As it was, he could only stare into Teeleh’s torrid eyes and fight his own terror.
“Welcome to the land of the living,” Teeleh said. His once musical voice sounded low and guttural, as if he was speaking past a throat full of phlegm. “Or should I say, the land of the dead. We make no real distinction here, you know.” The assembled Shataiki hissed with a laughter that sent chills down Thomas’s spine.
“Silence!” the leader thundered.
The laughter ceased. The large beast’s vocal range was incredible. He could switch from a high-pitched squeal to a deep-throated growl effortlessly.
The huge Shataiki turned back to Thomas, leaned forward, and opened his mouth. His breath was moist and smelled like a septic tank. Thomas tried to recoil. He managed a flinch.
Teeleh extended a claw to his face. “You have no idea how delighted I am that you came back to us, Thomas.” He began to delicately stroke Thomas’s face with the tip of his talon.
“It would have been such a disappointment if you had stayed away.” He spoke in a soft, purring voice now. A sick smile pulled his lips back to reveal yellow fangs. Bits of fruit flesh were lodged between his teeth.
“I have always loved you hairless animals, you know. Such beautiful creatures.” He ran the back of his furred claw down Thomas’s cheek. “Such soft skin, such tender lips. Such . . .”
“Master, we have him,” another Shataiki suddenly blurted, staggering from the trees.
The leader’s eyes flashed at being interrupted. But then his expression changed to one of amusement and he spoke without turning to face the new Shataiki.
“Bring him in,” he commanded. And then to Thomas, “I have prepared a special treat for you, Thomas. I think you will like it.”
The throng looked on as a dozen Shataiki dragged another cross into the clearing. A creature had been fixed to the beams. They managed to erect the cross and drop it into a fresh hole not ten feet from Thomas.
A man.
The man’s naked body sagged, battered almost beyond recognition. Wide swaths of flesh had been stripped from his torso.
Thomas groaned at the sight.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” the beast sneered. He giggled in delight. “You do remember this one, don’t you?”
Bill.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Teeleh said. “You’re thinking that the spaceship isn’t real and so Bill isn’t real. But you’re wrong on both counts.”
Bill’s bloodstained body moved ever so slowly on the cross. The poor soul’s hands had been nailed to the horizontal member of the wooden cross, not tied as Thomas’s had been. A large spike also jutted from a deep wound in his feet. His eyes had swollen shut, leaving only thin lines. His upper lip had been split open. A tangled mat of red hair fell to the man’s shoulder. Thomas closed his eyes and trembled with horror.
The man managed to part one eye to a slit. Tears leaked from his eyes when he saw Thomas. He spoke in a soft, gravelly voice.
“I’m his lover. I . . . I have to die for my lover. I have failed him!” This last he blurted, and then he wept quietly, eyes shut, face twisted in agony.
Teeleh laughed. “You like it? He’s alive, waiting for you to rescue him.” At that the throng roared with laughter. Thomas kept his eyes closed. A fresh wave of nausea washed through his stomach.
Teeleh let the laughter continue for a few short moments. “Enough!”
Once again to Thomas, with a mocking tone: “Now, here is your means of escape, Thomas. You really do have to escape, because unless you do, you’ll never be able to bring me Tanisssss.”
Tanis?
Without removing his eyes from Thomas, Teeleh motioned to the darkness. A lone Shataiki hopped toward the platform, dragging Thomas’s sword. He lifted it up to the leader and promptly disappeared into the trees. Teeleh took the dark sword and twirled it in the air.
“And to think that you thought you could defeat me with one measly sword. You see, it’s useless. Nothing can withstand my power.”
A snicker ran through the audience of Shataiki. Teeleh took a step closer to Thomas, eyes glaring. “I told you, this is my kingdom, not his. Here, if you don’t take up the sword, you lose its power. You’re a fool to think you can defeat me on my own land.”
The Shataiki suddenly swung the sword broadside at Thomas’s midsection. With a thump, the hard wood struck his bare flesh. He heaved in pain. The night grew fuzzy for a moment and he thought he might pass out.
“Now we will see how bright you are.” Teeleh shoved the sword out toward Bill. “Take this sword and kill this slab of flesh. Kill him, and I will release you. Otherwise, I will let you both hang here for a very long time.”
The night turned deathly silent.
Kill Bill?
Bill wasn’t real, Michal said.
But Bill was real.
Or was he just a figment?
Or was it a test? If he killed Bill, he would be obeying Teeleh by killing another man who in fact could be real. He would be following the wish of Teeleh, regardless of whether Bill was real.
On the other hand, if he refused to kill Bill because he believed Bill to be alive, then he was also following the word of Teeleh, who, contrary to Michal, claimed that Bill was real.
No matter what he did, Teeleh would claim a victory.
On the other hand, who cared what Teeleh claimed? Thomas had to survive.
He lowered his head and struggled for a decent breath. He could seem to get enough air into his lungs only when he pushed up and gave his chest muscles room to function.
“What are you waiting for, you fool? You think this miserable soul deserves to live? Look at him!”
Thomas wasn’t sure he had the strength to raise his head again. Another blow to his midsection changed his mind.
“Look at him!” the Shataiki snarled.
Thomas raised his head. Even if Bill were real, he wouldn’t feel the sword in his current condition. Death would put him out of his misery. How had they managed to keep the poor soul alive this long? He shuddered.
“I told him I would crucify him if he failed to help you drink, “ Teeleh said. “Now you can be the one to thrust the sword into his side. Be merciful and kill this pig.”
There was no way out. If Thomas didn’t kill this poor soul, they would both die. He closed his eyes, took another pull of air, and groaned.
“What was that, a yes?”
“Yes.”
The hushed mob of Shataiki erupted in a frenzy of excited whispers and hisses.
“A wise choice,” Teeleh said softly. “Pull him down! Let the human show us what he’s made of.”
A dozen black bats immediately flew to the cross and began to pick at the twine that held Thomas. His right hand came free first and he slumped forward at an odd angle that almost pulled his left shoulder out of joint. His feet fell free next, and for an unbearable moment he hung only by his left arm. The rope tore loose and he crashed to the ground.
The Shataiki began singing in odd, twisted voices that pierced eerily into the night—grossly absent of melody, yet heavy with meaning.
“Kill . . . kill . . . kill . . .”
The leader leaped off the platform and stood to one side. The fire seemed to burn brighter as the throng pressed in closer.
Thomas pushed himself up to a kneeling position. He faced the cross on which Bill hung.
Teeleh spread his wings to their full breadth. The volume of the Shataiki’s song slowly grew, drumming deep into Thomas’s mind.
“Now, my son. Show me your submission by taking the sword with which you came to kill me, and kill this man instead.” With that, the Shataiki shoved the sword deep into the earth at Thomas’s knees.
The freakish pounding of voices behind the leader continued, and in that moment Thomas doubted very much they would set him free without horrific consequences. Coming into the forest had been a terrible—
Thomas suddenly flinched.
“What?” Teeleh demanded.
The stick at his back. The dagger! Had they taken it? No, they hadn’t even seen it. It was under his tunic. It had been in contact with his flesh the whole time.
“Take the sword!” Teeleh thundered.
Thomas felt a surge of energy spread through his bones. He gripped the blackened sword with his hands and used it as a crutch to drag himself to his feet.
The chanting grew louder. Its pitch rose higher.
Thomas’s head swam, and without the sword to steady himself he might have collapsed. He leaned on the black stick and waited for his legs to steady. Teeleh stood still, no more than three paces to his right, wings now wrapped around his shoulders in stately fashion. Thomas gripped the sword with both hands and pulled it free from the ground.
He looked up at the body that hung on the cross, close enough to touch. He slowly raised the sword in his right fist.
The chanting rose to a roar, and the leader grinned wickedly.
Still shaking on his feet, Thomas slipped his left hand behind his back and under his tunic.
There. It was still there! He gripped the dagger with his fingers and jerked it into the open.
The effect was immediate. A hundred thousand Shataiki fell mute, as if somewhere in the back, behind the stage, some little idiot bat had tripped over a cord and pulled the plug.
Thomas stared at the glowing red dagger in disbelief. He swung to Teeleh, holding the knife out before him.
The large black Shataiki’s face was frozen in the firelight. Teeleh took a step back from the blade. Thomas waved the knife a few inches and watched in amazement as the beast leaped back in fear. He felt the corners of his mouth edge up. Adrenaline poured new strength into his muscles.
He staggered to the edge of the clearing. Bats scattered, screeching.
Bill. He couldn’t leave Bill.
Thomas spun around. But there was no Bill. Of course there was no Bill. Just as there was no spaceship.
Thomas looked at Teeleh. “You see what Elyon can do with only one human?” he asked quietly. “One human and one small blade of wood, and you’re nothing but a sack of leather.”
The leader’s face twisted in rage. He thrust a wing forward. “Attack him!” he screamed. A single Shataiki with inordinate courage streaked from a low branch toward Thomas. A dozen others followed.
Maybe he had spoken too early. He shifted the dagger toward the first onrushing bat and stiffened for the impact.
But the shrieking bat’s extended talons, followed by the rest of its body, fell limp the instant the glow from the extended dagger touched its skin. Its momentum carried the bat hurtling into the ground, where it crumpled in a heap of dead fur.
Two other bats made the same journey before the rest broke off the attack, shrieking in defeat. Thomas shifted his shaking limbs. He looked back toward Teeleh, who stood trembling.
“Never!” he shouted. “Not now, not ever. You will never win.”
With that, Thomas turned from the throng and staggered into the forest, dagger held high.
The bats kept their distance, but it sounded like every last one of them was following. Flapping, clicking, and now shrieking.
He still had to find the Crossing. How far had they carried him after attacking him at the clearing? It had been roughly midday, and then night when he came to on the cross. Now it was moving toward morning.
He hadn’t dreamed while unconscious. Or if he had, he couldn’t remember what he’d dreamed. Strange. What was happening in Bangkok? Maybe nothing. Maybe there was no Bangkok, just as there was no spaceship and no Bill. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t dreaming anymore.
It was the rising sun that saved him. A very soft glow in the east. Thomas pulled up in a clearing. If that was east, then the river was directly ahead, north.
A black canopy moved against the dim sky.
“Get away!” Thomas shouted, waving the dagger.
Shrieks echoed and the canopy lifted from the trees. Then settled again. Somewhere out there Teeleh watched.
Watched and waited.
He hit the river an hour later. No Crossing. The question was: Right or left? His back and chest burned with deep cuts. If he couldn’t find the Crossing soon, he would just jump into the river and swim across. Could he do that?
Thomas turned east and jogged along the river. The bats followed in the trees. On the other side of the river, the colored forest glowed like a rainbow.
He was seriously considering a dive into the river when he caught the glint of white directly ahead.
He pulled up, panting. There, arching lazily over the bubbling green waters, a white bridge stretched from the dark, harsh ground on which he stood to a lush landscape, bursting with color and life.
The Crossing.
He swallowed at the sight and surged forward on wobbly legs. He had made it.
He had actually made it! Twice now he’d talked to Teeleh and survived. The big, ugly bat wasn’t all that powerful after all. It was simply a matter of knowing how to defeat him. Knowledge was the key. You know what to do, and you—
Thomas stopped midstride.
There, near the bridge on the opposite shore, silhouetted by the lucent forest, stood the unmistakable figure of a human.
Tanis!
The man stared at Thomas, frozen like a statue. In his hands he held a red sword like Thomas’s. A sword?
A rush filled the air. Teeleh settled to the ground, directly opposite Tanis. He was no longer the black creature, but the beautiful bat, glowing blue and gold. A chill swept down Thomas’s spine.
The Shataiki folded his wings and opened his mouth wide. At first nothing happened. And then he began to make a noise.
The sound that issued past Teeleh’s trembling pink tongue was unlike any Thomas had ever heard. It was not speech. It was song. A song with long, low, terrifying notes that seemed to crackle in heavy vibration, slamming into Thomas’s chest.
It was as though the beast had harbored the song for a thousand years, perfecting each tone, each word. Saving it for this day.
Words came with the song now.
“Firstborn,” the leader sang out, spreading his wings. In his right wing he carried a fruit. “My friend, come in peace.”
The song reverberated through the air. A lovely song. A song of peace and love and joy and fruit so delicious that no person could possibly resist.
And Thomas knew that he must, at all costs.
Tanis watched Teeleh with bulging eyes.
Thomas found his voice. He began to yell, to scream at Tanis. But Teeleh only sang louder, drowning him out.
There were two melodies, spun as one, twisted and entwined into a single song. On one strand, beauty. Breathtaking life. On the other, terror. Endless death.
He looked at Tanis. The expression of delight plastered on the man’s face told Thomas that Tanis could not hear the other notes. The twisted ones. He heard only the lovely song. The pure tones of song that rivaled those spun by Johan, or those sung by—
And then he recognized one of the melodies. It was from the lake! A song from Elyon!
Thomas struggled to his feet as the song’s meaning became clear. He forced air through his lungs. “Run, Tanis!” Thomas screamed across the river. “Run!”
Tanis stood transfixed by the large Shataiki.
“Tanis, run!” Thomas bellowed.
He reached the Crossing and staggered up its arch. His vision swam from exhaustion and pain, but he forced his feet on. Behind him, Teeleh’s song continued to fill the air.
“Get out of here!” Thomas gasped. He crashed into Tanis. Knocked him from his feet. The sword spun into the river.
“Have you lost your mind?”
The man stammered something and scrambled to his feet.
“Run! Just run!” Thomas propelled Tanis into the forest.
Behind them Teeleh’s voice rang out a new chorus. “I have powers beyond your imagination, Tanisssss!”
And then the sounds from the Crossing fell away.
They reached the clearing in which Thomas had first been healed, fifty paces from the river, and Thomas knew that he could not manage another step. His world tipped crazily, and he collapsed on the grass. For a moment he was vaguely aware of Tanis kneeling over him with a fruit in his hands.
Then he was aware of nothing but the distant beating of his heart.