Chapter Fourteen
The sunlight broke through the darkness, blinding him. Corey, Otis and Poe dropped him onto the path. “What the...?”
She looked at him. “Are you okay? We couldn't find you for a while.”
“But,” Muddy replied, confused, “you didn't play the song. How'd you get through?” Then he looked around them. The landfill was gone. The tide had carried them to the other side.
Otis patted him on the shoulder. “Man, you're a lot stronger than we thought. You surfed that River and told it who was boss.” But even he knew the truth. Both of them nearly died in there.
“How’d we get here?”
“Your song's more powerful than you know. I guess you really wanted to save him.”
Panic struck him from all sides. Where was he? “We have to pull him out! He's too weak to do it himself.”
Corey wrapped an arm around him. “Muddy, he ain't down there. Maybe this was his plan all along. Look around. The River isn’t something we can get to now. We have live people to save. Zack, remember?”
“But we have to do something.” Muddy looked down and sighed.
They stared at the river flowing between the crossroads. It had been fading, draining from a deep, dark current to what it remained now; a slow trickle that dried up right before their eyes.
Otis clawed the dirt. “Where'd he go?”
Muddy stood up and grabbed his guitar. “He'll be with us every step of the way.”
When he opened his right hand, a silver pick lay in his palm.
* * * *
They looked down the trail that lead to the town and then at the unknown path. “We need Lyra. We need a guide to get us to the mountain.” Muddy slipped the pick into his pocket, right next to the one he’d retrieved from the creature. Silver Eye’s and Zack’s. He prayed it would give him the confidence he knew he would need.
“What mountain?” Poe squinted, her eyes adjusting to full sight once again.
“Where the Tritons have my brother. Where the Dark Muse is waiting for us.”
“Okay, but let's do it without getting killed.”
“Do you guys always make such an entrance?” Lyra stood behind one of the non-living trees.
“What?”
“Whenever someone's stupid enough to go into the River, it pretty much feels like an earthquake here. Now you might understand why the elders here fear your group so much.”
Otis looked at her and winked. “So, hot stuff, what does that mean?”
She swatted his head. “We'll go first thing in the morning. Now you need to rest. Some of us might not see another sunset.”
Poe nodded at a male version of Lyra. “Sure, but first, who’s he?”
“Hi, I’m Luke,” the boy said. He looked about their age, which meant almost nothing in this world. “My sister told me you need some navigational help.”
“I saved you,” Lyra said. “My people trust no one anymore. I’m sorry. Ever since they built that thing and the music died in our villages, nobody’s trusted outsiders.”
“How do we know you’re not baiting us?” Corey hadn’t trusted many people lately, other than his band and family. “We could wake up chained to something, or fed to one of those things out there.” He waved his monstrous arms in an arc. The band understood that much more existed in this world than they knew.
“You don’t,” she said, sighing. “Most of the younger ones fight the change. The eye in the center of town, watching us, is listening for those like you.”
The pyramid? Could he trust them?
“The last few who crossed over didn’t fare so well,” she continued.
“They were killed?” Poe bore into her. “Musicians? Like us?”
The other girl stared off into the direction of her town. “Some, but some were once welcomed here with open arms. They wrote songs that could appease even those that threatened their lives. Legends,” she said. “I’m sure they were in your world, too.”
“Are they dead?
Her brother finally spoke up. “Nobody’s sure. Those idiots in town captured some and let the Tritons take them away. Others simply went the way you’re headed now.” He bowed his head. “They might still be there. Or they’re dead, if they’re lucky.”
“What do you mean lucky?” Otis yelled. “Dead isn’t lucky.
The twins locked gazes. “You’re sure you want to go there?”
Muddy felt himself getting angry. “Isn’t that where your people took my brother?”
The boy threw his hands in the air. “Hold on. First, I don’t know who your brother is. Second, many walked right into the lion’s den.”
“Describe him to me,” Lyra said.
Muddy did, as the image from the night his brother disappeared would be forever tattooed in his memory. He noted the teen’s hair, eyes, height, clothing and of course, his guitar.
The teens stared at each other again.
Muddy felt his stomach slowly snake into a knot. “What? You’ve seen him?”
Lyra didn’t speak. Luke turned to him. “If it was him, he arrived and bypassed the village completely, as if he knew something the others didn’t.”
“Where’d he go?” The knot constricted.
The boy pointed at the peak in the middle of the distant mountain range. “Right into the lion’s den, without saying a word.”
* * * *
Luke led the band to an outcropping on the eastern edge of the town, outside of the influence of the pyramid. “No one will know we're here,” he said. “Even that thing won’t sense us. Trust me.”
“Why are you so sure?” Muddy felt no trust on this side. The sensation of being drugged, locked up and chased down were all too fresh in his memory.
Lyra laughed. “Well, for one, your little stunt has them scared out of their gourds. They’re convinced you’re working with the Dark Muse and the Tritons.”
“What stunt?”
“Crossing over like you just did. Most choose the quiet way.”
Muddy fell into a soft bedroll within the tent the twins pitched for them. “I just hope everyone else is fooled as easily.”
Moments later, he passed out, dead to the world and unable to tell the others what he’d learned the night he spent in the River.
As the morning began the next day, the sun blasted through the opening in the tent Lyra had brought them and shut out the nightmares of the River from the previous day. Silver Eye, their mentor, spoke to Muddy through the darkness, from deep within wherever he was now. Luckily, the message arrived right before his air ran out.
A scream pierced Muddy’s lips but a hand doused it quickly. When his eyes shot open, he saw Poe bending over him. “Shh,” her voice purred. “You'll bring them running.”
“Who?” His pulse already thumped through his skin.
She leaned in as she furrowed her eyes. “Everyone. And everything.”
After the swim in the River, both real and in his nightmares, those creatures he met didn't seem so horrible anymore. “Something tells me this is going to be one long trip.”
Later, as he stood outside the tent, Muddy watched as a quiet comedy of musical errors played.
Lyra stood in the middle of the group while Otis and Corey danced with the grass across from the safe zone where they camped. The same pasta grass which nearly had Leo for lunch a day earlier now swayed like soccer moms with cell phones at a Bon Jovi concert. Their long fronds moved with some current that gave them the appearance of dancing.
Corey blew a soft stream of blues-tinged notes, aimed at the green ground that surrounded the camping area. The bell of his sax-shaped horn sung to the murderous blades that waved to and fro. Some even washed over his sneakers.
Was he nuts?
The tiny drummer sat cross-legged on the ground before them, silently beating a rhythm into the earth. That must have propelled whatever it was, tide or wind, to make the grass wave. Otis must have sensed Muddy behind him because he turned and gave the guitar player a sly grin that only he could give. He nodded, his John Lennon sunglasses blocking out the world.
Where was Poe? He almost yelled her name when Lyra grabbed his hand and squeezed hard. Her gaze pointed to the most obvious place, the middle of the grass.
There she stood, the queen of the ball, all of her suitors dancing around her. The blades cleared a spot for her and she held her palms to them, as if conducting them. She hummed a melody in sync with Otis and Corey, all of them holding court.
Wow. She’s beautiful. I could fall into those eyes and forget about my life.
He didn’t care if she saw him staring this time. He hated the other guys in school ogling her with her long hair and womanly body, especially because he knew he would lose out to them every time. She could, and should, be a model with those eyes and that beautiful smile, but with her father, it would never happen.
Muddy wanted to run into the mass of green and pull her away. Just yesterday the green mixed with crimson as it nearly killed Leo. He might still wind up dead from their poison; another casualty of the bass player curse. However, Lyra held him firmly in place.
“Just watch.” So he did, but his anxiety reared up big-time and he fought hard to keep it at bay. He needed to be strong for Silver Eye and Zack. He couldn’t afford to screw it up now. The band counted on him. Even Lyra did.
He took some deep breaths, forcing himself to take in the scene and marvel at its craziness and beauty. Everything around him seemed alive. The ground below him vibrated, lulling him into a peace almost like he’d experienced in the River. His senses heightened as if he grew into the environment. Then his nose took in the strongest sensation.
“What’s that smell?”
“Wasn’t me,” chimed Otis, still tapping away.
Corey and Poe smirked, but kept up their antics.
“It smells like green,” she sang. And it did with the typical bitter fruitiness of cut grass, but this had an added ingredient.
“Shrek?” Corey asked between notes.
“Kermit the frog?” Otis rolled as he drummed.
Muddy smiled at Lyra, who explained, “When the plants are charmed, like a snake they emit something like pheromones.”
“So those bozos are putting that killer linguini in the mood?”
Lyra elbowed him, smiling. “Something like that. It helps them pollinate and communicate with other plants. Would you rather they get angry?”
He remembered the blood and his screaming friend. “I’ll live with this.”
“Guys,” he said in rhythm with the band, “we need to go. Remember what we came here for.”
Poe sauntered out of the grass, the fronds parting like the Red Sea for her. Within a minute, the song concluded and the blades lay still.
Before Muddy informed the group of their next step, Corey stepped up to him.
“You know, he believed in all of us. He gave every one of us something that we can use to save Zack. You’re not the savior here; we all are.”
The words hurt. They also rang true. Muddy had figured all along that since it was his brother, he would be in charge. But just like in the band, no one was more important than another. They risked their lives to complete this mission as much as he did.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just afraid we won’t get there in time. Silver Eye talked to me in a dream last night.”
Corey put his big hand on Muddy’s shoulder. “He came to me, too. Otis and Poe. All of us. That’s how we figured out how to calm the grass like that. Did you think we just suddenly went bonkers?”
“No, I know you’re not that psycho,” he replied with a smile, a little more at ease. He looked at Lyra, waiting for her to save him. She simply shrugged. He was on his own again. His dad would remind him that he needed to own up to his actions and words. “I think we do need to go, though, like now.”
“We know,” Poe said. “To the ocean, right?”
How did she know? Then he remembered. Silver Eye had trained them all.
“Which way?”
Lyra pointed due east. “Luke will meet us there. He needed to run back to the village for something.”
Muddy felt his anxiety rise again. “Why is he coming? He doesn’t need to risk his life for us. Neither do you.”
She winked at him with those light eyes. “You need a guide. Our people can’t live without music forever.”
“But I thought your town outlawed it.”
She shook her head, eyes shut as if remembering something awful. “No, they did, the same monsters who took your brother, the Tritons. It’s about time someone put an end to our pain. Who could live without music all their lives?”
“How long?” Muddy’s confusion only grew. In a world where music seemed to inhabit every living thing, how could someone outlaw people from enjoying it, performing it?
Again, she hung her head. “It’s a long story. Maybe I’ll tell you one day.” She shuddered. “Let’s get to the ocean and find out how bad your dreams really were.”
“Are we going the way the others did?” Muddy pointed toward a slew of high peaks in the distance as they cleared the edge of the forest.
She didn’t turn. “Only if you want to wind up like the others. There’s always another way.”
The group gathered up their instruments. The packs of food that Lyra had prepared for them slung in a knapsack across her shoulders. The southeastern path headed to an ocean, one which would likely amaze and frighten them as much as the forest.
Otis walked behind Lyra, checking her out, being obvious as usual. Muddy guided Poe and Corey brought up the rear.
“So, beautiful,” the drummer said. “Your brother? He has a talent, too? Can’t wait to see what his is.”
Their guide stared ahead and smiled. “He’s amazing. He’ll fit right in with you guys.” She gave Otis a look that said she knew his motive.
“Oh, yeah?” He probably thought he would wind up with another date. “What does he do?”
“Before the Tritons outlawed music, he once played a mean bass.”
No one spoke for the next hour.