Bron slowly opened his eyes. His vision was too foggy to make any sense of what he saw. He shut his eyes again, and tried instead to feel his surroundings. He was lying on something cool, wet, and springy. His entire body ached terribly. He had no idea where he was or what had happened, nor did he much care. All he really wanted was to lie there until he felt better.
"Hey…are you awake?" came a gentle voice in Bron's ear. He felt a pair of cool hands on his side. Opening his eyes again, Bron turned over and tried with all his might to focus on the face swimming above him.
After a few seconds, the blurry, dancing shapes before him solidified. He was looking up into the face of a pretty fourthling girl with long, brown hair tied into five plaits, and light blue eyes that were thick with concern. Seeing that Bron was conscious, a smile plucked at the corners of her mouth.
"What's going on?" mumbled Bron groggily, wincing as he sat up. "Where—where am I? Who are you?"
"My name is Celestia Drave," answered the girl, grasping Bron's hand and pulling him to his feet. "Durix and I have been worried about you, Bron. You were unconscious for a lot longer than we were."
Suddenly, the memories came flooding back to Bron. The battle with the Vilnix Pompolnius. The glisterbeam. Mord's fall. Leaping with Durix onto the deck of the Squallskipper. Plunging the cooling rod into the flight-rock. The girl—Celestia Drave—tumbling from her collapsing gantry and landing in a heap on the sky ship. Then…nothing.
"What happened after the battle?" Bron demanded with a surge of energy, looking around him. They were standing in a misty clearing surrounded by gnarled, blackened trees.
"After you were knocked out, the tide of the battle began to turn," came a voice from behind Bron. He wheeled around to see Raziel Tollinix sitting with Durix on a rotten log in front of a roaring fire, her short black hair caked with mud, her hard face composed into a bitter smile. "As always, the Vilnix Pompolnius was no match for the defenses of Twilight's Edge. Once their glisterbeam ran out of energy, the other Pirates Academic and I moved in for a fresh assault. Did quite a bit of damage too. But, alas, I wasn't so lucky. Party of hammerheads boarded the Squallskipper, chopped down the mast, and killed the rest of my crew."
"I got hit with the falling mast," said Durix, grimacing and pulling up his uniform to reveal a heavily bandaged chest. "I broke a rib, and shortly lost consciousness just like you and Celestia. Captain Tollinix was the only one left standing."
"Then the Squallskipper began to list badly," said Raziel. "The three of you were protected by the balustrades, but the hammerheads and I tumbled over the side of the ship. Fortunately, I managed to grab onto the hull rigging, climb back aboard with a broken tolley-rope, and readjust the weights to right the sky ship.
"Of course, without the mast gone and my crew dead, I had no hope of controlling the Squallskipper. I could only keep her balanced as she drifted about aimlessly over the Phraxfields. But things soon got a lot worse. The Squallskipper got caught up in a gale, and it was all I could do to stop her from being shaken to pieces. I only half succeeded, really; once I had made it out of the gale, I knew that the Squallskipper wouldn't last much longer than a few more hours in the air. I had to land her, or we'd all perish.
"If that storm had blown us out over the Edge, or to some other part of the Phraxfields, we would have been doomed right then and there. Fortunately, I saw that we had been taken out into the Deadwoods. But a bank of turbulent-fog was approaching from the northwest, so I had to land immediately. And so I did…with one more casualty." She smiled ruefully, and pointed to her right. "The Squallskipper."
Bron looked where Raziel was pointing, and felt a painful lump rise in his throat. Around fifteen strides away, just visible through the skeletons of the trees, were the smashed ruins of Raziel's sky ship. The hull was split into five pieces, the few ropes and sails that remained hung in tatters, and the flight-rock cage was reduced to a pile of splinters. The flight-rock itself was nowhere to be seen, and Bron knew that it must have floated off into open sky.
Bron felt like crying. The Squallskipper, faithful companion of Raziel Tollinix, completely obliterated. What were they going to do now?
"You know, Bron…" said Raziel slowly, "you saved all of our lives. Without you, Durix would have fallen off the platform, and the Squallskipper would have plummeted into the path of the glisterbeam. Celestia probably would have been killed too, if the Squallskipper wasn't where she was. I'm surprised you aren't a Pirate Academic…you have the quick mind and reflexes necessary for the job. Your talents are wasted as a Twilight Officer-In-Training."
"I've always wanted to be a Pirate Academic," said Bron, a glow of pride burgeoning in his chest at the praise from his idol. "I used to spend entire days reading barkscrolls about your adventures with Philbus Venvax, back before he became the Pirate General. My grandmother, Leris Quarter, was a Pirate Academic too…she told me a story about the pair of you battling Xelius Pulnix…how you saved her life."
"I did what I knew had to be done," said Raziel Tollinix. "I just wish I'd sliced off that scoundrel's head," she added, scowling darkly. "And Bron, I think that the Omniphrax Senate made a terrible mistake in shipping you off to Twilight's Edge; you belong in the skies. If we get back to Omniphrax, I will personally put in a word for you…see if I can't get you transferred."
Bron nodded. He was beginning to feel dizzy. He staggered sideways and collapsed. After a few seconds, he realized that his dizziness was due to a vicious hunger gnawing at his insides.
"Bron!" exclaimed Celestia, alarmed, dashing over to him. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, but…but I'm starving," he muttered, pulling himself upright again. "Have we got any food?"
"We both had ample supplies of emergency rations in our bags," said Durix, gesturing at two packages lying on the ground a few strides away from the fire. "Tilder jerky, semmelseed cakes, that sort of thing. Celestia had some too, but her bag tore when she fell from the gantry. As for Captain Tollinix, we've got entire barrels of pickled tripweed in the aft store of the Squallskipper. Half of them burst when the ship crashed, but we've still got enough to keep us well fed for months. The trouble is, I can't see how we're going to lug those barrels across the Deadwoods with us."
"Shame," said Bron, concealing with difficulty his relieved smile.
"But we'll still be able to load up quite a bit of it in our bags," interjected Raziel.
"Oh," said Bron glumly. He walked over to one of the bags, pulled out a strip of tilder jerky, and tore off a piece with his teeth. "So…what are we going to do?"
"We've been discussing it while you were unconscious," said Raziel. "We're in a very tricky situation here. All of the options facing us are appallingly dangerous. But we've decided that our best course of action is to head for Great Glade."
Bron nearly choked on his piece of tildermeat. "What!" he exclaimed incredulously.
"We obviously can't trek all the way through the Phraxfields on foot, and the twilight mists have been just as strong in the bordering sections of the Edgelands ever since the Twilight Woods died off. Our only real hope is to make it to the nearest large settlement, which is Great Glade."
"But, Captain Tollinix, we'd be walking straight into the lion's den!" protested Bron. "The Phraxguardians would immediately recognize us as Omniphrax academics!"
"Not if we discard our uniforms," said Raziel. "The Squallskipper had several changes of clothes on board for just this sort of thing, and the crates containing them were undamaged in the landing. Plus, if we can make it to the Ledges district, we can hijack a glistership and travel back to Omniphrax."
"Can you fly a glistership?" said Bron skeptically.
"I had to fly one several years ago during a raid," said Raziel. "Allowed me to catch the Phraxguardians by surprise. I'm sure I can do it again; in many ways, it's easier than sailing a traditional sky galleon. Harder to manage is that sick feeling you get when you're flying one; they're absolutely evil devices, glisterships…the way they imprison the noble seeds of life, and drain them of their energy…piloting one makes you feel like some kind of monster, if you have any decency. It's like being forced to strangle a defenseless prowlgrin pup. But, as we have no choice…"
"But even if we do all that and make it back to Omniphrax, we'll get shot down at Twilight's Edge," said Bron hopelessly.
"No we won't," said Raziel. "Not if we use a skyflare."
"A what?"
"It's a special, rarely-used signaling device which is intended for that very circumstance. It alerts the higher officers in Twilight's Edge that an enemy vessel is actually under the control of Omniphrax academics. I had one aboard the Squallskipper, and I've packed it with our other supplies."
"I didn't learn about skyflares in my training," said Bron, interested.
"No, you wouldn't have. Only the Pirates Academic and the most senior in the Twilight Marines know about it," said Raziel. "The fewer who are in on the secret, the lower the likelihood that the Phraxguardians will learn about it. But if such a flare is launched, the Twilight Marines are immediately ordered to hold their fire and let the approaching vessel pass through the sky-gates."
Bron said nothing. He still hated the idea of going to Great Glade. However, it seemed as though Raziel had thought of everything.
And so the four of them set off. The going was slow at first because of Durix's broken rib, but as he began to heal, they covered more and more ground each day. Celestia remained cautiously optimistic, trying to cheer up Bron and Durix whenever she could, but the two of them were in low spirits.
Bron was constantly hungry. The emergency rations had long since ran out, and now their sole sustenance was the pickled tripweed. No matter how many meals he had, Bron couldn't help but shudder as the bitter, pungent tripweed hit his tongue. He never ate more than a few mouthfuls, and as a result, his growling stomach and hunger pangs followed him everywhere.
The dreary, miserable, unchanging surroundings did nothing to improve Bron's mood. At one time, these regions must have been beautiful, with lush foliage, mighty trees, and a million different things to see no matter where one looked. Now, however, the once majestic trees were no more than blackened, gnarled corpses, damp in the frigid mists. The four of them kept going, occasionally stopping when the mist cleared to determine the correct direction from the shadows of the tree skeletons, marching onwards through the Deadwoods. It had gotten so bad that Bron was even beginning to hear voices in his head. On numerous occasions, he could have sworn that he heard distant, yodeling cries. Though he had never heard a banderbear's call before, he suspected that it was much like the ones he was hearing…but it was impossible. There were no banderbears in the Deadwoods.
One day, the group was settling down to rest after a hurried supper of tripweed. Bron was so hungry that he managed to choke down almost as much as the others. "We're getting very close," said Raziel to the others. "Smell the air…notice the acrid, smoky scent…it comes from the foundries and factories of Great Glade."
"Earth and Sky be praised," yawned Celestia, lying on the wet ground and stretching. "I'm desperate to see a bit of civilization…even if it means entering that horrible place."
Bron said nothing. He, unlike Celestia, was dreading this part of the journey far more than what they were leaving behind.
"So…" said Raziel, "we need to discuss the plan once again, to make sure we're all familiar with it. Once we arrive in Northern Outer City, we try to find someone trustworthy to help us. We'll search for the poorest, most downtrodden-looking resident we can find, and offer him money to get us safely to the Ledges. We'll use our emergency supply of gladers to purchase his services. Once we're at the Ledges, we sneak aboard a small glistership that doesn't have a lot of security personnel, hijack it when it's at a safe distance from Great Glade, and pilot it back home."
Bron nodded gloomily. He knew the plan by heart, but it still filled him with dread. So many things could go wrong…
No! He thought with a sudden, burning intensity. I can't think like that. The plan won't succeed if my heart's not in it…I'd be letting everyone down, proceeding with this kind of attitude…
He suddenly stiffened up, startled, slowly turning his head. Sensing this change in Bron, Durix, Celestia, and Raziel broke off from their own conversation, looking alarmed. "Bron, what…" began Durix, but Bron cut him off with a vigorous shake of his head.
Bron had heard something. There was a faint, scratching, snorting noise coming from somewhere close by. Raziel seemed to have heard it too; she was listening intently. "A gnarlwraith," she muttered. "We've got to get out of here immediately. But don't make any sudden moves."
It was as though an icy hand was gripping Bron's chest. He knew about gnarlwraiths from his studies in Omniphrax…the way they could change their color to become invisible, lying in wait…their nine trailing tentacles, and the fearsome mouthparts on the front appendage, which could expand to swallow a fully grown hammelhorn…how they drifted through the Deadwoods aimlessly for years without food, and never stopped pursuing their prey until it was in their clutches…
Trembling, the four of them slowly rose to their feet, edging away from the clearing. "This one sounds mighty hungry," whispered Raziel. "We won't be able to escape. Our only option is to fight."
As if in response to her words, the gnarlwraith suddenly appeared as though from thin air, its perfectly camouflaged sales turning bright red, its tentacles flailing and thrashing furiously, hovering in the air before them, gurgling and snorting as it advanced.
"The sky-crystals!" shouted Raziel "Try to set it on fire!" She plunged her hands into her bag, as Bron and Durix did the same. As one, they brought the pair of crystals together. Three tiny flashes burst in the air, creating a shower of sparks. One of the gnarlwraith's tentacles burst into flames.
The beast howled with pain and rage, and slammed the burning tentacle against the ground, extinguishing the flames. Bron, Durix, and Raziel rubbed the sky-crystals together once more, and two more of the gnarlwraith's tentacles caught fire.
Bron's hope that they were winning the fight soon vanished. Every time a tentacle ignited, the gnarlwraith simply smothered the flames against the ground. Their best efforts were only enraging the monster.
A tentacle shot out and snatched Celestia, lifting her off the ground. She shrieked, kicking and thrashing in a desperate attempt to free herself. Four more tentacles grabbed her arms and legs, and another—the tentacle that contained the gnarlwraith's mouthparts—expanded, opened to reveal a vast hole, and closed around her head. Celestia's screams became muffled.
"Celestia!" yelled Bron. "Hold on! We'll get you free!"
But even as he shouted these words, Bron knew it was no good. There were simply too many tentacles, and any attempt to damage them might hurt Celestia. And now, more tentacles were reaching towards the rest of them…
"WAAAH!"
A colossal, lumbering figure came crashing into the clearing. Its legs were as thick as tree trunks, and it had tusks as long as Bron's arm. Its tiny ears fluttered wildly, and its eyes flashed.
"A banderbear!" gasped Bron in amazement. "I didn't imagine it!"
The creature brought its massive paw down. With a single swipe, the banderbear severed the tentacle engulfing Celestia's head. Instantly, the other tentacles slackened their grip as the gnarlwraith thrashed in agony, blood spurting from the stump of the severed appendage. Celestia pulled her head free of the tentacle and lay on the ground, gasping for breath.
The monster began wrapping itself around the banderbear's torso, but with another ground-shaking roar, the banderbear cut through several more tentacles as though they were nothing more than strands of woodspidersilk. The dying gnarlwraith made another desperate lunge for its would-be prey, but shortly collapsed, twitching, its scales now pure white.
Bron stepped forwards and pulled a trembling Celestia to her feet before approaching the banderbear. The creature seemed formidable indeed, at least twice as tall as Bron, tusks glinting, her silky brown fur matted with blood. However, Bron knew from his studies that the banderbear was one of the noblest and most intelligent creatures in the Edgeworld.
"Wuh-wuh." Bron murmured, staring right into the banderbear's eyes. You have saved us from the tentacled one. We owe you our lives.
"Wuh," replied the banderbear. Gesturing at her shaggy, blood-soaked chest, she muttered, "Worremol."
"Bron," Bron replied, pointing to himself.
"I don't believe it!" exclaimed Durix, as he and Raziel entered the clearing. "You know the ancient language of banderbears, Bron?"
"Murtus taught me years ago, back when he was hoping I would become a Librarian," explained Bron. "But I never thought I would have to use it."
"Murtus? Murtus Lodd?" said Raziel in amazement. "You're on first-name terms with the Most High Librarian? Earth and Sky, Bron Rackis, you are a character."
"Woora-wurr wah," said Worremol glumly. When the white-robed ones discovered our sanctuary, my brethren and I fled. We forged solitary paths to keep hidden, but I have lost my way."
You certainly have lost your way, Bron yodeled back. You have reached the edge of the white-robed ones' city. The eastern haven of the scholars lies in that direction. He pointed back towards the way they had come.
Then Worremol must take flight! growled Worremol in alarm. Your kindness has touched me, little one. May our paths cross again. With that, she turned and lumbered away through the blackened trees, the sounds of her massive footfalls echoing long after she had disappeared.
"What was that about?" asked Durix in puzzlement.
"She said that the Phraxguardians discovered the City of Yodels," explained Bron. "The banderbears have all fled Great Glade, and are currently trekking through the Deadwoods in an attempt to reach Omniphrax. But she got lost and ended up here."
"So, the last of the banderbears are on the move?" said Raziel, looking deeply worried. "I guess it's all or nothing for them. But I don't think much of their chances…even if they make it through the Deadwoods, they'll still have to cross the Phraxfields."
"But it would be wonderful if they made it!" said Celestia eagerly, her eyes shining. "Just think…banderbears in Omniphrax! Banderbears in a place where they will be revered and their way of life protected, rather than in a place where they are slaughtered just because they're there!"
"Yes, I couldn't agree more," said Raziel, doubtfully. "But all the same…well, my heart goes out to those noble creatures."
"Wait a minute…" said Bron suddenly, staring intently at a spot some ten strides away. "Look…look over there…it's a path!"
Durix, Celestia, and Raziel spun round. Sure enough, there was a trail snaking between a cluster of dead redoaks.
"We're much closer than I thought," said Raziel. She jogged off towards the trail, the other three hurrying along in her wake. Stepping onto the path, the group turned…to see, framed between the blackened trunks, a vast expanse of ramshackle slums beneath a red, smoggy sky.
"We've reached Northern Outer City," announced Raziel. "We have officially arrived in the city of Great Glade."