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It was a full day before the Chosen Ones reached the old Batu village. The Mist was present among the mud huts, but it was neither thick nor threatening. The huts were similar to those that the Batu had constructed on the far side of the lake, but they were more elaborate and there were more of them. Curiously, the village appeared frozen in time, as if it was still occupied. Everything was in its place; the rooms of the huts were swept clean. Even the garden appeared carefully tended and free of weeds.
“This is weirding me out,” Mack said. “Do you think someone’s still living here?”
Sam looked about. The air was still. There was no sound, not even the song of a bird or the chirping of a cricket. He cautiously entered one of the huts. “No,” Sam answered. “The place looks deserted.”
“Yeah. I have to agree with that assessment,” Lucas said. “Maybe someone was here and just left. It just doesn’t make sense, but let’s make a thorough search of this place and make sure no one’s here.”
“Be careful you guys,” Sam said. “This could be a trap.”
The three spent the rest of the day searching the village hut by hut. They searched the woods on the outskirts of the encampment and the hills beyond. They looked for tracks and footprints, for bits of food or discarded rubbish, any signs of habitation but found none. Finally, as darkness fell and they were convinced that the children’s souls were not there, they built a fire and prepared a meal. It was only a short while before Lucas fell asleep.
Sam and Mack were sitting by the fire. It was late. There was a chill in the air. The moon was barely visible, but a few splashes of moonlight managed to break through. The day spent searching for the Mant’s stronghold had been tiring, but sleep eluded them.
"Well, we've done a thorough search of the old village and the hills. I'm pretty sure they're not anywhere near here," Sam said.
"Yeah, I agree. So weird though. You know, it looks like the Batu never left,” Mack said. "So tomorrow, I guess we head out to meet Shun and the others."
"Yeah. Guess we should try to get some sleep. It’s a bit of a trek to the Mogao caves,” Sam replied.
"I haven't gotten much sleep lately, Sam. I kind of think I'm losing it a little."
"How so?" Sam asked.
"I've been thinking about my Mom, but I can’t remember how she looked or sounded the day we left."
If the truth be known, Mack's memories were hiding deep in her subconscious. Like dust caught in an old drape, she had to shake them loose, then grab them before they drifted away.
Forgetting about that shrew isn’t such a bad thing, Sam thought to himself.
But Sam didn’t know all there was to know about Mack’s mom. It’s difficult to say when or why Mack’s mother changed. But there are those precious years before life gets in the way when a child smiles every time she sees her mother’s face, when her mother is the center of her world, when nothing means more to her than her mother’s touch. Those were the memories that Mack clung to.
"What I remembered most clearly," Mack said,” were the early morning trips to the park when I was five. I remembered the cheerful laughter in her large eyes, the glow in her cheeks and the way her bare feet scattered the early morning dew on the sun-drenched lawns. I remember her reaching down picking me up by my arms and twirling me in the air like a pinwheel. I remember the way I giggled when she covered my face in kisses.”
“You knew my mom Sam. She was like that, right?” Mack asked.
At first, Sam thought Mack was indeed losing it, that The Mist had somehow sunk into her skull and was eating her brain, but then he looked at the loving expression on her face and thought better of it. You see, the thing about memories are they can be both a blessing and a curse, and the memories of her mother that lingered were warm and comforting and sweet, and there was no way in hell that Sam was going to tamper with them.
"Sure, that's exactly the way I remember her too," he said. "She was both beautiful and kind."
"Yeah, I can't wait to see her again," Mack said.
It was also troubling to Sam how easily his memories had surrendered his past. Like Mack, many of Sam's most recent memories of home deserted him first. He had all but forgotten that his father had died and had no sense of disappointing him. What he remembered most was walking hand in hand, as a seven-year-old, with his dad, down a country road in the backwoods of Pennsylvania, stopping by a quiet pond and his father teaching him to skim stones across the water. He remembered his dad putting his huge arm across his small shoulders and saying, “You don't have to work in a mill like me. Not that that's a bad thing. It’s good honest work, but you can be anything you want. You’re a great kid Sam. Always remember that."
But all had become jumbled in his mind, and he couldn't tell if his memories were real or imagined. He knew though that he hadn't the time to think about them, that he had to muster all his resources to continue the quest."
"Well, we can't dwell on the past right now. We’ve got to get some rest. Big day ahead of us,” Sam said.
"You're right," Mack said. “But I'm glad you’re here with me. The last thing I would want to forget is you. I'm not trying to get sappy, but you've been my best friend since forever, and it would kill me if somehow I forgot you.”
It was like a movie you watched once, and you thought you’d seen it all, but then you watch it a second time or maybe a third, and a part jumps out at you and hits you right between the eyes, and you say, that’s amazing. How could I have missed that? Well, that's what happened to Sam in the misty moonlight. He’d seen her thousands of times before, but never the way she appeared that night. There was something in her look that was inviting, not the look of an old friend. A look that was saying, why can’t you find the courage to kiss me you fool? And for once in his life, he found the courage, leaned in and kissed her soft, full lips, and they held each other until the last ember died.
__________
Lucas rose first the next morning and immediately began brewing a batch of green tea, which had a rejuvenating quality. He finally broke into their provisions and made a hearty breakfast of goose eggs and rice, for he knew they would need their energy. They had not found the Mant’s stronghold and now would have to travel to the Nangling Mountains to meet up with Shun and his warriors. Before long, Mack arose, then the delicious aroma of the tea and eggs tickled Sam’s nose, and his eyes popped open. After breakfast, the three got their gear together and began the journey, unsure of what was in store for them.
They walked for the better part of the day through The Mist, which was again oddly comfortable and non-threatening. Anxious and on guard the entire time, they passed through a thick wood and then strode many miles over rolling hills, which turned into a grassy plain.
The Mist, for his part, wasn’t particularly concerned about the intruders. In fact, he had decided upon a use for them. You see, The Mist knew that all creatures come into being, live on the death, and then die and become food themselves. He had decided to feed the bodies of the Chosen Ones to Bashe, one of his fondest creations. Bashe was a two-headed serpent who lived in the bowels of the earth and had a particular fondness for human innards. You might expect such a creature to be ugly, but on the contrary, she was a thing of beauty. Her blue and green speckled body sparkled like an iridescent jewel. She was twenty feet long and could rise to a height of eight feet. Her venom was lethal, and she could unhinge her massive jaws and swallow an oxen whole. Atop her magnificent body sat two giant, beautiful heads, one ivory white and the other ruby red—each with one enormous eye, as black as obsidian. For the most part, these heads enjoyed each other's company. They could be heard talking and laughing late into the night. Still, they were known, on occasion, to bicker, mainly when a tender human was available for the taking.
Bashe slinked out of the dank hole where she slept and serpentined slowly through the high grass, her tongue flicking the air. She could smell fear from miles away, and now she smelled the coming of The Chosen Ones.
"Ah do you smell that Bashe?" the redhead asked.
"Yes, Bashe my dear," answered the white head. "And it smells human. I smell three, I think. One much more fearful than the rest. I love it when they're afraid. Don't you love it when they're afraid?".
"Oh yes, my sweet," the redhead responded. “I do so love it when their bodies are drenched in fear. The stomach juices churn and squish and soften their tender innards. That's the best part you know, the innards."
"Yes dear. I quite agree, but I hear them rustling through the grass. Be still, or they will discover us," said the white head.
"Yes, Bashe, of course,” the redhead responded.
The three Chosen Ones now walked, unsuspecting, their vision obscured both by The Mist and the tall grass, but Lucas could see the faint outline of the Nangling mountains far on the horizon and knew they were headed in the right direction.
"You see those mountains. That's where we’re supposed to meet Shun and his warriors. They may be already there waiting for us."
"How far off do you figure they are?" Sam asked.
"Well, the goings kind of slow right now, but I'd say we’ll make it there by sunset tomorrow," Lucas answered.
Mack was ahead of Sam and Lucas, hacking her way through the high grass with her machete when she stopped in her tracks.
"You hear that?” she asked.
"Hear what?" Sam said. "I didn't hear anything."
"They're up ahead,” she said. “I swear I heard something in the grass. Stop walking. There it is again."
"Yeah. I heard it too that time," Lucas said. "And it sounds big."
Just at that instant, Bashe raised her magnificent heads and lifted her long, powerful body into the air. The two heads turned towards each other and started talking with grins on their faces, darting their forked tongues rapidly in and out. Of course, they were speaking in Parseltongue and couldn’t be understood by The Chosen Ones. Then Lucas remembered what Bohai had told him about the conch shell that allowed him to hear the voices of his enemies. He reached into his pocket, took out the shell, and held it to his ear.
"Look at those tasty morsels," he heard the white head say to the red one.
"Yes, my dear," said the redhead. "And the tall one, smell his fear? His innards will be so tender and moist."
"Yes. Now how shall we take them?" the white head asked.
"We mustn't be too hasty my dear,” answered the redhead. “They have weapons. You go for the tall one. I'll go for the skinny one. We’ll leave the fat one for dessert. Now on the count of three, strike."
Only Lucas was privy to their words. He knew he would have to act fast.
"One," said the white head.
"Two," said the redhead.
Before the count of three, Lucas pulled the blowgun off his back, loaded a poison dart from his belt and blew the dart right into the throat of the beast. The poison pulsed through the monster's veins. It twisted and convulsed and fell in a heap to the ground.
"Is it dead?" "Mack asked.
"I don't know," Lucas said. "But let's get the hell out of here."
The three turned and ran into the cover of the grass.
As they did, the beast recovered and slowly raised its heads.
"Are you all right?” asked the white head.
"Yes, Bashe. I think I am. But that dart sticking in us is poisoned.” the redhead answered.
"So it is. Now, what shall we do?".
"We shall shake the cobwebs from our brains, find these animals and tear them apart."
"Yes, my sweet. That indeed is what we shall do," said her sister, and the giant snake rose and rushed into the grass.
The three were but a few yards ahead, and the monster was quickly upon them.
"I know now what was on that devil dart. It was the venom of our cousin, the black-lipped viper. We are immune to such poison. It can only stun us, not kill us,” said the white head. “Now, let’s feast.”
Bashe caught up with the three. She seized Mack, twisted her long tail around Mack’s waist and lifted her to within a foot of her redhead. Her terrible tongue darted out and licked Mack’s face.
"Now, my brazen little one. Now I will taste your flesh,” the redhead said.
Mack reached back into her quill, drew an arrow, nocked it into her bow, and launched it right through the beast's huge black eye, driving it into her brain.
"Oh my Bashe," the redhead said. "Oh my. This is not good my sweet. Not good. I fear she has killed me.” The beast’s redhead gushed bright yellow blood and fell limp to the side.
The monster's white head unleashed a horrible ear-shattering wail.
"No! Not my dearest! This cannot be. Bashe, my love. You can't be dead." The white head cried and brought Mack directly before her. "I will devour you, you fiend,” she yelled.
Lucas loaded another dart and let it fly into the beast's remaining eye.
"Oh my. Oh my. Bashe feels quite woozy. I fear Bashe might faint.” the giant viper said as she dropped Mack and collapsed to the earth. Sam ran to Mack and lifted her to her feet.
"Are you okay?" Sam asked.
"Yes," Mack answered.
"We’ve got to get the hell out of here. That things not dead. It's just stunned. Let's go," Lucas said, and the three-headed off in the direction of the Nangling mountains.
