Title: Seed of Darkness
Rating: T
Summary: A new threat descends upon Cloister and Jack must use the Crown of Erik to call on some unlikely allies. Fallon/Isabelle, Fumm/OC
Disclaimer: I make no money whatsoever off this story or any of the characters.
Chapter 11: A New Home
The catacombs sprawled beneath Cloister, a labyrinth of twisty stone tunnels that were old and dusty and full of secrets. No one remembered who the original architect had been, for he was of an era so far removed nothing survived but bones. And there were plenty of those in the catacombs, the bones of kings and queens, princes and princesses, and more lords and ladies than could ever be counted. Like a great devouring snake the labyrinth wound a sinuous path beneath the city, biding its time, waiting for its next meal. All of Cloister's rulers were swallowed up by the catacombs in the end, their bones swaddled in gray cloth and laid in ornate sarcophagi within its bowels. There they rested, probably at peace, with their memories and treasures resting with them. No one dared disturb them; no one but graverobbers, monks, or people wanting to have adventures.
That was the goal of the little princess as she scampered over loose stones and splashed through puddles of brackish water. Other children might speak of the catacombs in fearful whispers, calling them haunted, but to the princess the twisting maze was another world full of mystery and history. The palace she called home was beautiful, comfortable - and often boring. In the catacombs she could go anywhere as long as she remembered how to get out again. She was an explorer. She was free.
Her kingly father would die if he saw her now. She'd traded her pretty dress for a pair of well-worn trousers and a coarse woolen shirt. The shirt felt twice as big as she was, the hem fell down past her knees while the sleeves flapped around her elbows. Anyone seeing her would've taken her for a common street urchin as she raced down an old, unused tunnel beneath the palace. The little princess stumbled, leaned against a wall to catch her breath, and reached into one of her grubby pockets. Her hand came out clutching a piece of chalk. The princess examined the wall carefully before scrawling an approximation of a cat's face over the ancient stone. Satisfied, she put the chalk back into her pocket and wiped her hand against a pant leg. She liked to pick a different animal for each tunnel. The drawings were her guides when it was time to leave again.
Beneath her feet, the floor slanted ever downward. Through the walls, she could hear the gurgle of an underground river. The dampness in the air made the stone cold and slick to the touch. Most of the passages were well-lit, with metal grates wrought into the ceilings to collect rainwater. There was an old joke about how the catacombs were a bathhouse as well as a bonehouse, with the city's water supply being channeled through the newer tunnels. But it was to the old places the princess ran, where her ancestors were sleeping.
I know he's down here somewhere! I know it! the princess thought as she darted around a corner. The downward slope was growing steeper now and the light of the upper world was fading, but the princess was unafraid. An ancestor was calling her, leading her. An old king wanted to be remembered.
Another twist and turn, around a bend and through an archway, then she saw them. A circular chamber, filled with rows of stone coffins covered in dust and grime. Torches burned in high wall sconces, casting a ring of flickering light that gently brushed each coffin lid, outlining their carved faces in yellow and red. Noble kings and beautiful queens stared sightlessly at the princess as she passed each coffin, but she ignored them all, for none of them was her king.
She found him at last, in the center of the circle. The solemn face of King Eric gazed up from his stony bed. "You're real," the princess whispered, awestruck. Chiseled eyes seemed to watch her coldly. The princess swallowed hard, suddenly nervous. "Did you really fight the giants?" The carved face looked like it was frowning at her and the princess took a step back, feeling more and more like an intruder. She turned to go, and that was when it came for her.
A great pounding against the coffin lid startled the princess so badly she fell to her knees. Rolling onto her back, the little princess's eyes grew round with fear as more sounds of tearing and rending came from within the sarcophagus. Then a tiny crack appeared in the stone box, and a thin, green tendril uncurled and gently touched the ground by the princess's foot. In seconds, leaves were budding and growing big as paper fans. The princess had time to think King Erik's magic beanstalk, it has to be! Then the coffin shuddered as several more vines burst free of their stone prison, until King Erik's carved face disappeared beneath a roiling mass of green. One vine snaked around the princess's boot, then slithered up her leg, holding her fast. Soon her arms were pinned as well, and the princess cried for her father as the wrathful plant began to squeeze.
"Wake up, princess."
Struggling, the princess cried when she felt leaves brush against her throat just as all the torches sputtered and went out.
"Wake up NOW!"
The jab hit her in the small of her back, driving needles of pain through her arms and legs. Isabelle woke with a gasp. She put a hand to her neck, half expecting to feel delicate green tendrils threading their way around her windpipe, but found nothing there but bare skin. She sat up, blinking sleepily. Habit had made her wary of moving around in the dark cave, since a single misstep would send her tumbling headlong off her sleeping ledge. It was hard to miss the armored giant standing over her, though
"What?" she asked, rubbing at her back. She didn't doubt she'd have a bruise there after getting poked by a giant's finger.
"Quiet!" Fallon snapped, and Isabelle grew instantly wary. The giant was standing close to her ledge, looking down on her with two different expressions. His main head looked fierce with its usual toothy snarl, while the smaller head frowned and whimpered as though it had been struck. This can't be good, Isabelle thought, and was proved right when Fallon muttered," We have a visitor."
A visitor? Her heartbeat stuttered, then broke into a full gallop. Fallon's nostrils were flared wide, a sure sign that he either smelled something or wanted to kill something. Or both. Isabelle smelled nothing but rotten moss and burnt wood from the fire they'd shared, but that meant next to nothing. A giant's nose was a thousand times sharper than any human's.
Isabelle held her breath, waiting...and heard the faintest sound of scales rasping against stone. Claws clicking as they scraped the ground.
Oh no. On the ledge, Isabelle gathered herself into a tense ball, while Fallon sank into a crouch and growled a low, dangerous declaration of imminent violence.
The impact felt like an earthquake. Fist-sized chunks of granite clattered like hail around Isabelle as she screamed and covered her head. Fallon roared with two throats just as a second blow hit the cave from outside, rolling the boulder-door so that a sliver of pre-dawn sky could be seen amidst a storm of falling debris. A reptilian eye suddenly filled up the empty space, glowing yellow with the pupil a dark slash in the center.
Another impact rattled the cave. The monster was trying to force a way in. Isabelle felt herself pitch forward as the stone ledge underneath her buckled. She flung out her arms as she slid, a killing drop raced toward her, barely managing to catch hold of the edge at the last instant. "FALLON!" she cried as her legs swung out over nothingness.
Either the giant heard her shout or saw her dangling by one hand. Soon Isabelle felt his hand close around her, and she was snatched away just as the ledge broke away from the wall, crumbling into pieces before it had even hit the ground. The cave swung around Isabelle in a grayish blur, then she found herself back on the giant's shoulder. She threw her arms around the neck of his second head, not understanding a word of what the creature was jabbering at her, just grateful to be alive. Though I'm not sure how much longer that will last.
Rocks rained down around them, bouncing harmlessly off Fallon's armor. None of them were big enough to hurt the giant, but Isabelle knew that would quickly change when the entire ceiling came down. The dragon was still throwing its weight against the boulder blocking the cave entrance, snarling and spitting tiny jets of flame that teased at the gaps around the rock, making a halo of dragonfire. Fallon was growling curses as he strode angrily toward the boulder-door, despite the scaled menace thrashing beyond. Clinging to his shoulder, Isabelle found herself praying silently. Please, Father, don't let him get us all killed.
"Hold on to us," Fallon roared practically in her ear. Then Isabelle watched, wide-eyed, as the giant picked up the boulder, chest heaving, and hurled the massive rock with both hands. There followed a sickening wet crunch when the boulder landed. Isabelle winced.
"A lesson for you, lizard. Never wake a giant from his sleep." Fallon stepped carefully around the spot where the boulder now rested. Isabelle could see a puddle of purplish blood oozing from underneath, and spot a leg of the squashed dragon jutting out like the feeler of a dead insect.
"What...what now?" Isabelle asked. She was trying to get control of her heart, and failing.
Fallon turned, and his cool gray eyes studied her intently. "We find another lair," he said, with his second head gurgling in eager agreement. "It's no longer safe here."
{O}
"Is that what I think it is?"
From his perch on Fee's shoulder Elmont found himself seeing Albion as birds in flight must see it. He could look down on the tops of trees and cross flowing rivers in a single step. Wind would come slapping at his face and force the knight to raise a hand to shield his eyes, but that left him clinging with a desperate one-handed grip to Fee's beefy neck. The giant ambled along at a leisurely pace, but even a slow walk made his big body sway like an abandoned watchtower ready to collapse, with Elmont holding to the slanted roof trying not to get tossed off. Nausea and dizziness were becoming his constant companions. Climbing the beanstalk hadn't even unnerved him like this. At least the bloody thing had possessed the decency to stay still.
Yes, Albion looks the way birds must see it, he thought to himself. Terrified, spinning out of control birds
The search had dragged on for days now. As much as he disliked riding Fee's shoulder, it was easier than trying to keep up with two giants scouring the hills for any sign of their leader or the princess. Several times Foe thought he had the scent when it ended up leading them around in circles, and once to the shore of a deserted lake where Foe insisted Fallon had been recently. "The fool went into the water," Foe had grumbled when they'd stopped to look around. "Is he trying to lose us?" Most likely, he'd been trying to lose the dragons-lots of dragons, judging from the clawprints they'd found pressed into hardened mud near a copse of trees. They'd stayed close to the lake that night, hoping for a glimpse of Fallon-or in Elmont's case, of Isabelle-but neither the two-headed monstrosity or the fair princess were anywhere to be found. Not a single scrap of them.
Until now. The view from Fee's shoulder was impressive, but Elmont could've easily spotted the massive iron ball and coiled chain from the ground. It was hard to miss, seeing how it was made for a giant's hand.
"That's Fallon's favorite toy," Fee growled. Before Elmont could stop him, the giant was racing over to pick it up, with the oaf's bounding gait forcing Elmont to take a deathgrip around his neck. Fye joined them, grumbling, and together they all stared down at the flail. The chain had gotten tangled up amongst the husks of some splintered trees. An impressive crater marked where the iron ball had come down. Elmont could barely see the wooden grip among clumps of dirt and rotted wood. "What's that thing doing here?" he asked. "Surely Fallon wouldn't leave it. He carries it everywhere." A fact he'd learned the hard way, during several occasions where he'd had to chastise the giant for pulverizing some unfortunate merchant's townhouse with the weapon's business end.
"Looks like he dropped it." Fee stooped-an act that made Elmont's stomach try to crawl up his nose-and began untangling the chain. His big hands tugged and pulled at the links, working them free, until he rose with the flail clutched in his right fist, Peering down, Elmont could see the ugly gargoyle face carved into the iron ball snarling back at him as it swung in a lazy circle. A nasty piece of work, Elmont thought. Just like the giant who owns it.
Fee flicked his wrist, making the ball dance like a maddened metal imp. "I always wanted to give this a twirl, but Fallon never let me." And for good reason, Elmont was certain of that by the wary look Fye was giving his fellow giant. With his stony brow furrowed, Fye's grim features looked grimmer than usual as Fee wound up, then let the fiend-faced ball of destruction fly. Shards of granite flew where the metal monster struck a cliffside, knocking a house-sized hole in the rock.. Fee yelped in delight...only to flinch away half a heartbeat later when the ball ricocheted, speeding by his right ear with millimeters to spare.
Breathing heavily, Elmont tried to make his fingers relax their white-knuckled grip on Fee's shoulder. He'd been able to do little more than stare in fascinated horror throughout the whole incident. If he closed his eyes, he could still see the pale gleam off its iron surface as the giant's flail barely missed squashing him like a bug. Bits of stone still crumbled from the cliff Fee had dented, clattering to the ground with a sound like bones breaking.
Elmont searched until he found Fye standing off to one side, well out of range of Fee and his new toy. Giant gray eyes met the knight's pale blues, and they shared a look.
We should take it away from him, the look said, and for once man and giant were in complete agreement.
After a further search of the area turned up nothing, Fye decided they should head deeper into the mountains, claiming that he'd caught another whiff of Fallon's scent. They hadn't managed to get Fee to part with the flail, but they'd succeeded in getting him to keep it looped at his belt. The chain clinked noisily, adding an ominous counterpoint to his thumping footsteps. Elmont could do nothing but get rocked from side to side as he struggled to hang onto Fee's shoulder and hope desperately that the dimwitted monster would soon forget about the bloody thing. The big, blundering dolt could bring down entire castles with that flail, without even meaning to.
As they trekked up steep mountainsides, grass was replaced by scrawny weeds sprouting up through chinks in rough gray stone. Sparse stands of pine and ash formed a green canopy that sheltered small creatures, though many of the trunks only came up as high as the giant's waists. Fee and Fye tore through them without a thought, shoving aside the trees they could reach while simply stepping on any they couldn't. Elmont tried to keep track of landmarks-a strangely shaped boulder, old deer paths, anything that could help him retrace his steps if he had to make a quick escape from his two companions, but soon gave up. If I have to run, all I'll need do is follow the trail of destruction these two leave in their wake.
Though Fee was gentle enough, and Fye hadn't done anything other than give him threatening looks. It may just be the way his face is made. The burly, barrel-chested giant said little, speaking mostly in grunts or clipped sentences. Fee was often the complete opposite, chattering aimlessly about his sheep, his treasure hoard back home and, sometimes, humans.
"Who was the man I found hiding behind the tree?" Fee asked. He squinted as though he were trying to peer behind every tree in his path. "Crawl? Crawler?"
"Crawe." Elmont winced. Just saying his old friend's name hurt, the poor, stubborn fool.
"Oh, yeah." Fee wrinkled his nose. "Fallon ate him."
"Yes." Elmont ground his teeth, then took a deep breath to make himself stop.
"Not fair, that," Fee continued glumly. The giant began to sniffle. He reached a hand up to his nose and plunged a finger into one nostril, causing his next words to come out muffled. "Old Two-Face should've let me have a bite. I found him."
Elmont turned his attention back to the ground, back to Fee's enormous feet plodding over stone and scrub. It was an easier sight to take than watching the giant pick his nose, and distracted him from painful memories of Crawe's last tried not to resent Fee for wanting to have gobbled down a bite of Crawe; the dunderhead was at least putting in an effort at being friendly. Fumm raised much the same objection concerning Isabelle, Elmont mused, recalling the argument between the two alpha giants after he, Crawe, and Isabelle wound up a trio of sorry prisoners in Fallon's castle. And he was beaten for it. The knight was beginning to get a glimmer into the ways a giant's mind worked, and wasn't sure he liked it. Territorial. They don't like to share.
He risked a glance over his shoulder...just in time to see Fee's finger emerge from his nose with a slimy, greenish bogey stuck to its end. The giant flicked the wheelbarrow-sized blob away carelessly. Elmont didn't see where it landed, and hoped to hell he never would. He wondered how hard it would be to convince Fee to wash his hands later."What'll we do with the princess if we find her?" Fee asked. He turned to Elmont, all smiles,"Can I keep her?"
"No." God, no, Elmont added silently.
"Oh." Crestfallen, Fee's lips pressed together in a sad pout. "I always wanted a princess."
"To eat?" Elmont said, perhaps a bit too harshly.
"I don't know." Up ahead, Fye was pushing his way through a narrow gap between two cliffsides. Rocks tumbled down as the giant grunted, squeezing his bulky frame through. Fee made it with less difficulty, though Elmont nearly swallowed his tongue when Fee banged his shoulder hard against a granite outcropping. Elmont had to scramble up Fee's neck almost to the height of his floppy earlobe to keep from being crushed, using fistfuls of the giant's lanky hair for purchase. Fee continued on, oblivious to the panicky human tangled up in his hair. "Princesses make you do funny things." Cupping one hand to his mouth, he shouted to Fye. "You remember Father's princess?
Fye grunted, then dipped his head in an almost imperceptible nod.
Fee continued chattering while Elmont slid back down the giant's neck. Upon landing, he took a fresh grip on the edge of Fee's shoulder guard and hung on for all he was worth. "Our Father caught a princess once. We all assumed he'd eat her-she looked so sweet and tasty and we'd already eaten all the little men in the funny brown robes- but instead his heart went all mushy and soft, and he fell in love with her."
I am bloody well not in the mood for children's fables. "Things like that only happen in stories," Elmont growled. It was hard enough sometimes dealing with Jack's nonsense, let alone some gangly giant with oatmeal for brains.
"But it happened! He loved her. Wouldn't let any of us come near her, not even me." Fye huffed out a breath scented with the mutton he'd had for lunch. Elmont waved a hand in front of his nose, scowling. A moment passed in silence while Fee stepped over boulders strewn about like enormous gray beads. He could hear Fye up ahead sniffing, intent upon some scent that might have just been Fee's breath. Elmont hoped it was something that smelled of Isabelle. The list of horrible things that could've happened to her out here was endless. Please let her be all right.
"Do you love the princess?"
"What?" Elmont's head whipped around so fast he got a faceful of the giant's stringy black hair. Fee's question blindsided him, for a few seconds rendering him incapable of doing anything but gaping like a page caught filching sweets from his lord's table.
"Somebody must want her back, else why would we be out here? You were the one who told us to go looking for her." Fee scrunched up his forehead, dredging details from the leaky milk pail of his memory. "Well, actually that was Fumm. But you were the one who made him make us go after her. So you must love her, then."
Elmont considered the question. How can I explain these things to a giant? He thought back to that day in Gantua when he'd helped Jack put bees in the helmet of a sleeping giant. Their fool plan had actually worked, sending the giant toppling off the edge of the world and clearing the way to the beanstalk. He remembered how Isabelle had laughed and flung her arms around Jack, and how he'd had to look away. I'd served her family for years, he thought. I knew there could never be anything between us...but I'd always hoped. A fool's hope.
"Of course I love her," Elmont said, staring down at his hands and counting the scars. Each scar earned defending his king and princess. "Ever since she was a child."
"Then why don't you keep her?"
Elmont almost smiled at the honest puzzlement in Fee's voice. "She's not mine to keep."
"Who's is she, then?'
He was about to say Jack's when the path in front of them opened onto a scene of utter destruction. A mountain of rubble was all that remained of what had been a cave. A ripe smell was in the air that stung Elmont's eyes and made Fee cover his nose. A growl from Fye sent a dark swarm of crows off screeching, revealing a limp green leg sticking out from beneath the biggest boulder Elmont had ever seen. A lake of purple blood flowed like discolored wine through cracks in the fractured stone, some of it dried into black stains but a great deal more looked alarmingly fresh and wet.
"What the bloody hell happened here?" Elmont shouted.
"Fallon was here." Fye dropped into a crouch, examining the dead dragon with his eyes and nose. "There was a fight."
That looks bloody obvious. Elmont tugged on a handful of Fee's hair, and the giant set him down. He picked his way through the debris, taking care not to sprain an ankle on the uneven footing. Clouds of dust still swirled in the air, mingling gray and white, and Elmont felt an icy raindrop hit his shoulder just as another landed in his hair. The daylight was getting colder as well as darker.
"Fallon's scent is all over this place." Fye said. He picked up a slate-colored rock and sniffed it.
"What about Isabelle?" Elmont felt a bubble of panic rise in his chest from staring at the ruined mountainside. If she'd been caught under all that...
Fye sucked in so much air Elmont thought he was about to have a titanic sneeze. A shudder passed through him, then the giant growled. "She was here, too. I can barely smell her." Both giants began to dig through the heap of fallen rock, taking stone out by the handfuls.
The wait seemed to last for days. Elmont could do nothing but count heartbeats and listen to the clatter of stones being moved. The giants would scoop up handfuls of rubble, then pause and sniff, pause and sniff, until at last Fye sat back and laid his grimy hands on his knees. "No dead humans here. Or giants princess might still live." A pause, then he added. "Unless she's been eaten. Then not even her bones would be left."
Elmont shuddered. Bloody giants.
Fee sprawled lazily atop a pile of stone. letting one hand drift down to finger at the flail's chain looped at his belt. "Fallon won't come back to a place after an enemy's found it. He knows better." He paused, thinking, then lurched to his feet, ignoring the dust and pebbles that fell from his lap like gray hail. In a few strides he'd bounded over to the massive boulder - stepping over a shaken Elmont on the way - and squatted down to poke a finger at the dead dragon's leg, feeling a bit of muscle."Hmm...nice and lean, this one was."
Rain was now falling in big cold drops. Fye's bald head shimmered beneath a layer of water. Being ill-tempered at the best of times, the weather didn't help much. A growl tore from his throat, eventually forming into words."This search is hopeless. Fallon and this human girl could be anywhere. We should go back to Cloister and eat the..." He caught himself, and had the wisdom to look sheepish. "...help the humans there."
"We know we're closer to them than we were yesterday," Elmont said. He put as much iron-clad authority into his words as possible. Neither of the giants seemed to much care what happens to Isabelle so long as they found their two-headed brother, alive or dead. And even concern for their fellow giant seemed to be waning by the hour, judging from Fye's sullen looks and Fee's intermittent bouts of complaining. I have to be the leader, Elmont thought. The prospect was tiring, but he couldn't let them give up. Not now. Fee and Fye weren't quite his friends, but they were all he had. "We'll keep looking."
Fye gave him a murderous look. One of his big hands opened, ready to snatch, and Elmont hastily added, "Three more days. If we haven't found anything by then, we'll go back."
"Can I eat the dragon?" Fee called. Elmont and Fye turned as one to see that Fee had rolled the boulder aside, revealing a mess of crushed spines, broken wings, and raw meat, all covered in purplish ichor like an obscene sauce. One bite of beet-colored flesh was halfway to his mouth, but he sat waiting for their answer, a hopeful gleam in his big gray eyes.
"I suppose," Elmont said, ignoring the way his stomach flipped. Fee's like a child, and Fye is like the practice yard bully. "What's left of it, anyway." He shrugged. Fye grinned happily, and bit into the dragon leg like a chicken drumstick.
Fye gave the knight a lingering look, then shrugged as well. Elmont let himself breathe again. He's not happy, but he's with me. For three more days, at least.
More rain came spattering down. Nearby Elmont could hear the slobbery sounds of Fee chewing, licking his fingers after every bite. "Let's find some shelter," Fye rumbled finally, rising up to his full, impressive height. Elmont was a veteran of a hundred battles, but even he felt a twinge of unease when the giant's misshapen shadow fell over him. "It's getting nasty out here."
{O}
The rain started coming down in earnest, just as the princess realized that she and her giant were hopelessly, irretrievably lost.
Big fat drops pelted both of Fallon's bald heads as he walked, hitting with little clangs against his armor. Isabelle's arms were tired and achy from all the time spent clinging to his second head while the wind and rain turned her skin to ice. From time to time, she stole worried glances at the second head. Its eyes were closed, its face slack, and it drooped forward so badly she wondered if it was sleeping or sick. Her fears were laid to rest when a fresh sheet of rain pounded hard onto its helmet, waking it into letting out a startled, "Aaahhhh!" Poor thing. Isabelle patted its cheek. Her hand made a squelching sound rubbing against the creature's damp skin.
If the second head was uncomfortable, Fallon's own head was miserable. Isabelle could hear him growling under his breath every time he stepped into a patch of muck or had to lift a hand to flick water from his eyes. His hooked nose was dripping like a rainspout, and more water was sliding down his chestplate so that the steel shimmered as if immersed in a river. "The dragons won't hunt us in this weather," he mumbled. Isabelle wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or to her. Either way, it seemed a woefully weak attempt at cheer.
"Where are we going?" she asked. Her voice sounded muffled by the rain.
Fallon shot her a weary look. "Someplace dry, we hope." His smaller head pursed its lips and made a half-strangled croaking noise like a frog swallowing too many flies. If Fallon understood his twin he didn't show it, but kept plodding doggedly forward. The land around them was growing steeper and stonier; they passed rain-slicked boulders and once or twice Isabelle thought she spied the white shine off snow-dusted rocks, though they were gone before she could be certain. It's cold enough for snow, she thought. I never thought I'd miss the cave. The place was dark and frightening, but at least it was dry.
"I don't think-" Whatever she'd meant to say was cut off when Fallon stumbled. His shoulder dipped so suddenly Isabelle's wet fingers slipped from his little twin's neck. Panicked, she scrabbled for purchase only to grab handfuls of empty air as her whole body pitched forward, then freezing wind was rushing through her hair and clothes and she was falling...
...and landed with a moist smack in Fallon's open hand. Dazed, she lay across his palm blinking water out of her eyes, trying to form coherent thoughts around the roaring in her ears. Fallon was a dark blur above her, his expression unreadable. Isabelle lifted a hand to him in a feeble wave. "Good catch."
A low growl was her only answer. But the giant didn't put her back on his shoulder. His other hand came up, cupping her gently, and Isabelle found herself pressed closer to his chest, with her cheek laying against the cold steel of his armor. The princess threw him a questioning look, but if the giant noticed he ignored her. The sky draped a heavy gray cloak around them as the giant trudged forward, heading even deeper into a world of rough stone and white mountain mist.
"S-should we even be h-here?" Isabelle's teeth were chattering. Mostly from the cold, she told herself. "I m-mean, so far into the mountains? It's d-dangerous." For as long as the princess could remember, the mountains had carried a sinister reputation. As a girl, she'd heard tales of cannibal witches who lived up in high mountain passes: cunning, smiling old women who built houses from gingerbread. Any innocent little children she lured inside her house of sweets were never seen again. And there were worse things...
Fallon snorted at the mention of danger. "My kind owned these mountains back in King Erik's day, princess." His second head burbled a single identifiable word: Mountains. Fallon sniffed loudly. "I smell traces of them here still."
Isabelle grew quiet, and let Fallon follow his nose while her back soaked up the warmth from his palms. His fingertips curled into a fleshy cage around her and she could, if she wished, snuggle against his wet armored chest. Being held so close to his body meant she was shielded somewhat from the worst of the wind and rain; however, the princess went rigid with fear every time a loose stone shifted beneath the giant's feet and threw him off balance. If he falls, I'll end up squashed flatter than the dragon he killed this morning. Moving slowly, she hooked an arm around one of his thick fingers, holding on until she felt a little calmer. A memory surfaced of the scattered moments after the dragon had carried her off. She'd been hiding in a tree while Fallon growled and snarled until the wounded lizard finally took the hint and fled, Once the dragon turned tail, the giant had come for her...and she'd fallen out of the tree from fright. But I didn't fall, she thought. He caught me that time, too. And this morning, when I almost fell off the ledge. The knowledge gave her some comfort; if the giant wouldn't let her fall, he probably wouldn't let her get squished either.
No more words passed between them for a while, though for once the silence wasn't threatening. The rain had finally tapered off to a cold drizzle that hung in the air like a thin wet blanket. Isabelle ran a hand through her tangled wet hair, trying to work out a knot that was wound so tightly a single tug threatened to take out half her hair. After a moment of futile pulling, she gave it up for hopeless and lay listening to the soft thunder of giant footsteps. That dreaded sound had terrified her before Fallon had come back and her world turned upside down. Now she was as used to it as if she'd been born on Gantua. I never thought I'd live this long around a giant. The Fallon I met on Gantua would've killed me without a second thought, not saved me from hungry dragons, or fed me roast boar, or bothered to catch me if I fell off his shoulder. Why should he care anything about what happens to me now? Much of what her unlikely protector did was a mystery to her, but that was one riddle she hoped to learn the answer to before she died.
Fallon was sniffing deeply, his huge head turning madly to catch any stray breeze. Watching him, the princess wondered if she dared asking him straight out what he ultimately planned to do with her when his whole body went tense, the ropy muscles in his arms and neck going taut as harpstrings beneath his skin. Her position close to his chest allowed Isabelle to actually feel the agitation coursing through him, a deep thrum like a bowstring about to loose an arrow. "What's wrong," she asked cautiously. Peering up at him, she mainly had an excellent view of the underside of his chin, but when his head dipped to look down at her she saw that his mouth was set in a tight line while his nostrils were flared wide. Beside him, his second head sniffled, then broke into a fit of coughing so intense Isabelle feared it might choke.
Fallon's eyes were chips of hard, cold flint."What do you mean, 'What's wrong?' We thought even your pitiful human nose could smell that, princess."
His harshness actually stung. "I don't smell anything," she shot back. She squirmed against his chest until she was almost sitting upright, with one of her small hands pressed flat against his armor. Coughs and splutters still came from the second head. The little misfit was complaining loud about something in words that might've been Gantish or badly mangled English; it was impossible to tell which. "What is it?'
"Death."
A chill crept up her spine with cold, mincing feet. Isabelle knew better than to question him further. Instead she closed her eyes and just let Fallon carry her. feeling curiously weightless, like a ghost, like the little girl she became in dreams. Sounds washed over her: the giant's heavy breathing mixed with his muttered curses, the drip of water on stone, the moan of freezing wind rushing through deep gullies and narrow trenches. The mountains were a strange, fierce territory, cold and hard as giant hearts. Fallon knows where he's going...I hope.
Fallon stopped so abruptly it was like he'd hit a wall. Though all was still and silent, the air around him seemed charged and smoky with tension. Isabelle took a breath to steel herself before opening her eyes.
The first thing she saw was the skull. It had to be a skull, because no natural rock would have such large, pitted holes where eyes should be, or such a huge mouth full of the stubs of broken teeth. Except this skull is bigger than a house, Isabelle thought, overcome by a mixture of awe and dread. The flesh had long since rotted away, leaving the deaths head grin belonging to all human skulls; however, no one with any wits could mistake the skull as human. Isabelle realized Fallon's keen sense of smell had led them straight to a giant's graveyard.
Above her, Fallon's little twin gave a small, sad moan, then broke into another coughing fit. The smell of death is strongest here, Isabelle thought, shuddering. Even she could smell it now, the musty, rotted stink of bodies left out in the sun to decay. She wasn't sure she wanted to know how Fallon himself was faring. Knowing him, not very well. He still carried her like a toy, not grasping tight enough to hurt, but if he got angry enough... "Fallon," she called out, very gently. A brusque growl was the only reply she got.
They found more bones further on: rib cages the size of elephant tusks, fingerbones longer than a human forearm, femurs taller than trees. Isabelle stared at half of a skeleton so old most of it had long since fused with the rocks, so it was almost impossible to tell where bones ended and mountains began. Scattered among the bones of giants were smaller bones, yet they were so similarly shaped they could be nothing other than human. One huge skull still clutched a tiny leg bone between its cracked front teeth. Isabelle turned away from the sight, swallowing bile while pressing her face against the cold steel covering Fallon's chest.
The rest of the journey passed in a confused blur. Judging by all the sniffing, Fallon had picked up another scent, while Isabelle simply lay in his arms and let him wander where he would. Though Fallon was the one walking, she felt exhausted. All around her was evidence of past carnage. The First War. No wonder the mountains have such a bad reputation, if giants once lived here. Several times Fallon took her past boulders that had been carved to resemble the stone heads of gargoyles, though their features were so worn only a bare outline remained of toothy snarls and bulging eyes. It was as though Gantua had been brought down to Albion. The giants tried to make a new home here, Isabelle thought, feeling small, frightened, and more than a little awestruck at seeing the old legends brought to life. Too overwhelmed to take it all in, Isabelle closed her eyes and would've happily kept them shut if Fallon hadn't started barking orders at her.
"Open your eyes, princess!" he snapped. "Now!"
Reluctantly, she did as she was told...and received a shock that raised another layer of goosebumps under her half-frozen skin. An impossibly huge staircase unfolded before them like a grayish-white ribbon, each step chiseled out of a looming mountainside. There were no handholds Isabelle could see, and on either side was a sheer drop onto spiky rocks.
Isabelle's mind felt as numb as her feet. She had to struggle to find words. "What is this place?"
"Years upon years ago, it was one of our greatest strongholds." Fallon seemed as surprised as she was by the old ruins, the surviving legacy of his former conquest. His second head gave an appreciative whistle. "We built several places of power before your Erik the Great used his Crown to tame us. We doubted any still remained." The giant practically spat the name of Isabelle's childhood hero, loading it with contempt. Erik was our savior, and his worst enemy, she mused, before her thoughts returned to a bleak, stony landscape littered with the ancient bones of giants and men. What happened back there? It looked like a slaughter, but by who?
The last thing Isabelle wanted was to return to Fallon's shoulder where she'd have to endure the headsplitting view, yet that was where the giant put her. He needed his hands free to climb the steps, or what remained of them. As soon as his fingers released her, she grabbed onto his second head with a vengeance, flinging her arms around its neck and burying her face in its tender skin. The climb was steep, and Isabelle sucked in her breath every time a loose stone clattered free, sending up distant echoes as it bounced down the mountain. These stairs were made for giants. No sane human would ever want to climb this. Soft crooning sounds came from the second head; the little creature was trying to calm her. The ascent didn't worry her half as much as what they would find at the mountain's peak. A huge castle full of angry giants, with every one of them wanting to rip me apart...
"You stink of fear, girl. What is it now?" Fallon's grumpy voice cut like cold iron through her rising panic, so that hearing his complaint was almost a relief. Shakily, she pulled away from his second head, but didn't open her eyes.
"W-what's up there?" she asked.
"Ruins. Death. There's no one here, princess. Look around you."
She did. They were at the top of the staircase, Fallon having climbed in minutes where a human would've taken hours or days. The gray belly of the sky pressed uncomfortably close, close enough to touch, so that Isabelle had to wait for her head to stop spinning before she could focus on the castle before her...or what was left of the castle.
Like the castles she'd seen on Gantua, this one sported a collection of cylindrical towers carved from solid stone. She counted four, but only two were still standing, the rest having crumbled into sad piles of broken slate and granite. A square keep squatted like an enormous stone toad among remnants of old statues; here a grasping hand broken off at the wrist, there a headless warrior raising a rusted sword. This place must've been terrifying in its day, she thought. Even ruined, the place still felt like a steel trap about to snap shut. In her mind, she saw baskets of screaming human prisoners being brought up the mountainside by troops of hungry giants wanting a feast. As Fallon approached the gate, Isabelle saw the stone around the portcullis was stained red and sculpted to resemble a giant mouth about to swallow them, with iron spikes for teeth.
"I don't want to go in there!" The words were shouted out before she could stop herself. Dimly, she heard Fallon's second head squawk something at her, but her full attention was on the portcullis and the inky blackness waiting beyond it. Years of rust had chewed away at the iron until most of the bars were like dried straw, brittle and weak. They gave easily when Fallon started prying them apart.
"You'd rather stay out here in the rain, with only bones for company?" Fallon grunted while his bare hands tore into the rusted portcullis, ripping out huge chunks of rusted iron and tossing them aside like chaff. Soon his knuckles were streaked red by rust flakes. The sight made Isabelle think of Crawe's blood, which subsequently made her feel like crying.
"No one's going to eat you, little princess," Fallon mumbled the words without looking at her, yet Isabelle could faintly hear something in them that sounded almost, almost like kindness. His second head flashed her one of its mischievous grins that showed a lot of teeth while still managing to appear elfin and harmless. Isabelle was clinging so tightly to its neck she was taken completely by surprise when the little beast stuck its tongue out at her, flicking the tip lightly over her face. Warm spit dribbled into her eyes, but rubbing them meant she'd have to let go and risk falling. I could strangle him and claim it was an accident. Fallon would know it was a lie, though.The whole situation suddenly struck her as so ludicrous Isabelle couldn't help but give a weak, tremulous laugh. The little imp beamed down at her, happy at having made her happy. Not exactly happy, but prepared. If anything tries to eat me, it won't be the first time. When Fallon wrenched the last bar from the gate, Isabelle took a deep breath and held her head high as he stepped into the mouth of darkness.
The inside of the castle looked as broken as the outside. An entry hall spread out before them, vast stone floors covered in thick dust that swirled up at the slightest breeze. Braziers lined the walls holding torches long since guttered out and were now just sticks of rotted wood, if that. Part of the roof had collapsed, forcing Fallon to move carefully through the debris. Cold, cloudy gray light streamed in where the roof should have been, silvering the hooked noses and pointed teeth of a row of gargoyle faces chiseled into the walls
A dreary place, Isabelle thought. She wondered if the same dark thought was in Fallon's twin minds as he stepped under an arched doorway, the wooden door having long since rotted through. Water dripped down as they passed beneath the stone lintel, splashing Isabelle's hair and landing with a wet plink on Fallon's head,, but if the giant felt it he gave no sign. Even his second head was quiet. Isabelle noticed its dented helmet had fallen to one side like an oversized hat, covering its left eye like some dimwitted pirate. Any other time the sight might've made her giggle behind her hand, but in this ruined wreck of a castle any hint of laughter felt singularly unwelcome.
Whether Fallon knew the way by touch, smell, or from following paths graven in memory, Isabelle couldn't say. She just knew the giant seemed to have some innate sense of where he was going. They passed through a long chamber wide enough to have served as a banquet hall. Stone pillars reached up to a ceiling that to the small human girl seemed thousands of feet high. Past that they entered a maze of dark, twisty passages that eerily reminded Isabelle of the catacombs beneath Cloister. This place is big enough to swallow my palace whole and still have room inside for more, she thought, more than a little unsettled. What little light there was seeped through chinks in gray stone walls, and soon there was no light at all. Even then Fallon didn't stop, but sniffed long and deep, following a scent. Isabelle turned to his second head with raised eyebrows, questioning, but little Fallon stared straight ahead, intense and focused as his brother.
Soon they halted at a pair of tall wrought iron doors. Two ornamented doorknockers carved into the likeness of giants with lolling tapered tongues, bulging eyes, and cruelly pointed teeth snarled at them in challenge. Iron clappers wrought in the shape of bull rings dangled from each bulbous nose, but Fallon didn't bother knocking. He shoved against the doors until their rusted iron hinges squealed. until Isabelle's ears ached from the colossal sound of so much tortured metal. Once the doors were opened, Fallon made his way down a set of wide stone steps that spiraled down into an underground vault.
Isabelle tensed, wondering if they were headed to a part of the castle she'd rather not visit. "Is...Is this the dungeon?" She'd been a guest in one of Fallon's dungeon before, and hadn't enjoyed her stay.
"No, princess. Something even better," Fallon said. The rock walls caught the giant's deep voice and threw back the echoes, which tumbled over each other before fading. The air down here was so cold Isabelle was certain her breath would be visible if there'd been enough light to see it. Shivering, she held onto the smaller head's neck as Fallon reached the bottom of the steps, turned a corner and...
Her breath caught. She stared, dumbfounded.
As a child, she'd heard plenty of stories about the treasure hoards giants kept. Many a bold adventurer sought their fortune in these very mountains, seeking the legendary treasures the vanquished race had left behind. Whether they found the famed gold can't be said, for none had ever returned. Her sweet Jack was the only man in living memory to have laid eyes on a giant's treasure and lived to tell the tale. But words now proved a wholly inadequate way to convey the wonder, splendor, and sheer decadence of what the princess saw before her.
Gold was heaped in shining yellow piles stretching from one end of the chamber to the other. Golden cups, plates, swords, scepters, and gold coins beyond count or price, all glowing as if they were freshly minted. Each treasure pile towered as high as a miniature mountain to Isabelle, forming a magical sparkling landscape. Gemstones crusted the floor: emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and a glowing purplish stone the princess had never seen before. Beside her, Fallon let out his breath in a triumphant hiss, his second head gave a happy little chirrup and grinned, and even Isabelle forgot for a moment how hungry, cold, and tired she was, amazed by the magical sight.
"It's good to be back." Indeed, with a broad smile that stretched from ear to ear Fallon looked the happiest she'd ever seen him. Crouching down, the giant took up handfuls of gold coins and let them run through his fingers, sighing at the sounds they made clinking together. Reaching up, the giant plucked the princess from his shoulder and set her down near his feet, where she sank up to her waist in a sea of gold.
She picked up a rope of twisted gold inlaid with rubies, their depths flashing with bloody red light. "Is all this yours?"
"Some of it." Fallon had sat himself down in the midst of the treasure hoard, sorting through the various trinkets, picking out the ones that pleased him. "This fortress was meant for more than just battle. My brothers and I needed places like this to hide the plunder we couldn't carry home with us."
Plunder. That word. Isabelle dropped the golden rope she'd been examining back into the pile. "You stole it," she said, without much surprise.
Fallon scowled. "Who's to say it wasn't stolen from us first, and we were only stealing it back? It makes no difference now. The kings of old are long dead. The treasure belongs to whoever claims it." Fallon scooped up a handful of gems and peered at them through half-lidded eyes, soon entranced by their multicolored glitter.
Giants. The more time she spent with Fallon, the more accustomed she was growing to feeling amused, sad, and angry all at once. A taste for acquiring things, indeed.
Something strange caught Isabelle's eye. At first, she took it for a lump of gold, but when she turned her head just so the lump looked more and more like a ball of...feathers? Curiosity overcame her, and she waded through waist-high drifts of glitter and gold until she reached the object of her attention. The back of her neck tingled from the weight of Fallon's watchful eyes on her, but for once she didn't care. The thing she had found was more than just a ball of feathers; it was a bird.
A goose, she amended. A golden goose.