Chapter 11: The Knaar

A magical creature fantasy adventure story

It only gets hotter as the day goes on. It’s well past midday when the rocky barrier to our west finally gives away and we are able to head southwest toward the Zora Cover. I can see the trees on the horizon, a blotch of shadow distorted by the heatwaves coming off the sand.

I keep it in my sight. I need a goal as I bake in the sun. The trees draw closer, but not fast enough. My clothes are damp and cling uncomfortably. Mieklo pants near my ear. My canteen of water is empty, and my mouth feels like it’s full of the sand I shuffle beneath my feet.

The dark green looks cool and inviting. I long to be there.

The rest of our day’s walk is quiet.

Jilli talks to no one, only a few simple commands to Gnuf. Rent is still pale and slow. He and I support each other. Hax looks unaffected. He juggles some snowballs, and I assume they’re helping keep him cool.

Eventually, my head becomes too heavy to watch the tree line, and I’m left staring down at my feet. They drag through the yellow sand. When my boots scuff hard ground, I realize the sand is giving way to scrubby brown grass.

I look up.

We’re out of the desert, and a soft, cool meadow of wildflowers greets us.

Mieklo leaps from my shoulder to frolic in the tall grass.

Rent gives a weak chuckle as he watches the xichu. “Just a bit farther,” he says when I try to coax him to sit down.

The road is more visible now that it’s not buried beneath the blowing sand, easy to follow when Jilli and Gnuf get swallowed up by the tall grass. Rent and I follow, Hax close behind us. He’s put away his snowballs, and I turn to ask what he said when he speaks in a low voice, but he’s talking to Blaize.

“She hasn’t said a word to anyone except that furry pack mule,” he tells her with a shrug.

Blaize frowns. “I’ve never seen her so upset before.” She’s changed into clean clothes, ones with no tears or blood.

“She’ll be better once we make camp,” Hax says. He squeezes Blaize’s shoulder.

I’m surprised by the soft understanding in Hax’s voice and the gentle gesture. It’s a side of him I’ve yet to see, but I’m glad I did.

“Keep moving!” Jilli shouts from within the grass. “We’ll rest when we get to the edge of the forest.”

I try to get my feet moving faster, but they drag. I hope there’s a creek or pond nearby. I rattle the last drops of water around in my canteen.

“Here.” Rent hands me his. It’s low but not empty.

“No, that’s yours,” I argue. “I finally have my own. I just didn’t portion it out well enough.”

He presses it into my hand. “The desert is hard on your body. Drink. We’ll find more soon, now that we’re out of it.”

I take a small swig and hold it in my mouth.

“Hey! We made it out of the desert!” Hax says as he comes up behind me, slapping me on the back.

I spit a spray of water. “Gods, Hax!”

The elementalist laughs at that until he doubles over. It makes my face burn, embarrassed by spitting as much as for my unintentional exclamation. His laughter doesn’t help.

The meadow overgrowing the road opens back up, and we’re in a clearing within throwing distance of the edge of trees.

“Here,” Jilli says and stops Gnuf. He drops his head to the ground to graze. She starts pulling the packs off him and dropping them on the ground.

This is usually the time when Jilli assigns tasks to get camp setup, but she seems to be done with us. I tidy up an old fire pit, raking out the ashes and straightening the rocks. Hax comes back with an armful of sticks, and with his flint I’m able to spark them to life.

There are still a few hours of light, but no one complains about ending our day early. There’s an aura of exhaustion that settles around the fire. Dinner is a quiet affair. Jilli and Blaize won’t meet eyes, and none of the rest of us dare to break the silence.

I know anything I could say right now would be the wrong thing.

When dinner is cleaned up, Blaize disappears into the growing darkness around us. We’re left with the song of crickets and toads.

“Lo, you should have a weapon,” Jilli says.

It’s the first words she’s spoken since we set up camp. So I have no idea how to reply.

She digs through a bag and pulls out a sword wrapped in cloth in its hilt. It’s wide and about the length of my forearm. “This blade was given to me when I was old enough to be a warrior, on my sixth birthday. I’ve kept it all this time, but I want you to have it.”

“No, no, I couldn’t,” I stammer. “It sounds really important.”

“It’s barely a dagger to me now.” Jilli chuckles, deep, and it surprises me. “I don’t use it. A good blade deserves a purpose, and a strong girl deserves a good blade.” She removes the cloth, revealing an intricate leather scabbard detailed in steel, and offers it to me.

“But I wouldn’t know how to use it,” I say. It’s heavy in my hands.

“Dinner is done. We still have some light remaining. No time like now.”

As long as the light will allow, Jilli and I spar. Jilli with a large branch and me with the broadsword cushioned with cloth wrapped around the blade. It’s heavy, awkward. I’m not used to the weight.

“It’s no quill, kid,” Hax comments.

That only fuels my determination.

Jilli only defends, explaining ways to attack her. I’m panting but invigorated when Jilli lowers her makeshift weapon. “Good job, Lo. We’ll practice each night until you become more comfortable with it.”

I’m beaming and nod emphatically. Though I’m tired from the desert and the sparring, I’m surprised at how much I enjoyed myself. Maybe I am more than just a scribe.

“We’ll get an early start. We’ll take minimal breaks,” Jilli explains. “I want to be in and out of the Zora Cover before dark. Roads or not, it’s a dangerous place. Stay alert and stay close. Now, let’s get some sleep. I’ll take the first watch.”

I lay the broadsword beside my head, eager to chase this initial high.

The next morning, my arms and shoulders are sore, but I don’t let it slow me. I swing the sword, practicing the few simple moves Jilli’s taught me so far. Left, right, stab, feint.

“Whoa there, kid,” Hax says, sidling away as I get close. “That thing’s pretty sharp.”

I wasn’t that close.

There’s only so much room on the road, just enough for two wagons to squeeze past each other. So I walk along the side of the road, farther ahead of the others, attacking ferns and vines. I’m confident with my strokes, because I know they can’t attack back.

I hack a thick vine in two, and it sprays me with warm green liquid. None of the other vines did that. My blade lowers as I investigate. The upper half of the severed vine quivers then retracts up into the canopy. A second one snakes down from above me. I start to raise my sword, but the vine is faster. It slithers around me, pinning my sword arm. Then, as if I weigh nothing, it yanks me up into the leafy boughs above the road.

Leaves snap me in the face, getting in my mouth, and branches scratch my arms. They pull at the sword in my hand, but I grip it tighter.

The vines pull me into a pocket where the branches thin. I grab onto one with my empty hand. The vine jolts my shoulder as it tug, tug, tugs. Each one is agony, but I don’t let go. I know there’s nothing good at the other end of the vine.

A growl turns my head, and over my shoulder, I see a mossy mass. A maw opens, full of teeth that are green but sharp. It doesn’t have any eyes, but doesn’t need them to pull me toward its mouth.

I twist the sword hilt in my hand, trying to point it at the mossy creature. The leather grip slips. I almost drop it, but somehow I hold on. My grip is more precarious now, the weight is awkward. I don’t dare move my fingers too much.

A flurry of ice shards pierce the canopy. Some cut through the air between us, and some shatter against the mossy creature, drawing green blood. The monster roars, and I can see several rows of teeth going back in its mouth. Two of its viney tentacles drop into the space below us.

“Hax! Which one of us are you trying to hit?” I shout.

It continues to pull at me, and my shoulder burns with each tug.

“Lo! Are you okay?” It’s Jilli’s voice.

“Only for the moment.”

“Keep talking, so I know where you are.”

“Hurry, this thing is going to pull my arm out of its socket!”

I see the tip of Jilli’s sword stab up into the space we occupy. She misses me, but she misses it as well.

“A little farther.”

The mossy creature gurgles a growl.

Then it shrieks. Its viney tentacle releases me.

I try to hold onto the branch, but the shift in my weight yanks it from my hand. I’m falling. The hard road rushes up to meet me.

Jilli sprints toward me and catches me only a few feet off the ground. She sets me down and turns to retrieve her sword. It’s fallen from the monster and is covered in green blood. “Move, move,” she hisses in a low voice. “When the knaar doesn’t have blood to feed on, it acts as a parasite to the trees it attaches to. It’s rooted in place. If we can get out of range of its tentacles, we’ll be alright.”

Rent and Hax are already a ways up the road. I stumble to join them, gripping my sword tight.

Jilli follows, but a green, leafy tentacle drops down and shoots toward her. It grabs her ankle and yanks her back. Before she can attempt to bring her sword around, a knife flies through the air and severs the tentacle. The cut piece releases Jilli and flops on the road, spraying green blood.

Blaize runs up the road, collects her knife, and doesn’t slow as she reaches us. She keeps running. The rest of us follow, putting as much space between us and the knaar as we can.

The fight with the knaar takes longer than I thought. The forest has fallen into twilight, making everything grayish and diluted and hard on the eyes.

Jilli calls a halt and says, “It’s going to be full dark soon. We have to make a fire, and quickly.” Her eyes aren’t on us, but on our surroundings.

I glance around at the shadowy trees, wondering what could be out there that the barbarian woman fears.

~ * ~

If you’d like to continue this journey, enter your email below to receive future posts directly to your inbox.

If you enjoyed this post, please share it.