Hungry Heart - Book #2 - Ch. 9 (Patreon)
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Chapter Nine – The Key to Immortality
Duril held the pot, his arm heavy and stiff.
“Weren’t you hungry?” Winglog taunted him. “Eating the Grand Chief’s leftovers is an honor.”
“I need to move it to a plate. I only have one hand,” Duril argued.
All this time, Sog continued to complain that he was entitled to all the leftovers from the Grand Chief’s table since he was the cook and always had been. Winglog spared little effort to send him sprawling on his back each time the smaller orc tried to get near the pot, drool pouring down his chin, and his eyes seeing nothing else but the object of his undying affection. Food.
“Don’t you want me to give you a fork and a silk napkin while you’re at it?” Winglog continued to taunt Duril.
Sog neighed like a horse, finding the orc warrior’s words amusing by the looks of it. But Duril could feel the mop of hair on his head getting damp with sweat. He put the pot down and scooped the remains on the bottom with his fingers. Winglog was watching him intently, and Sog was jumping up and down with excitement, asking for the pot to lick it clean.
Maybe he would be lucky and live another day. Just as he brought the hand to his mouth, a rumble shook the earth under their feet. They all turned toward Yarag who suddenly rose up from his deathbed and growled, an inhuman sound that made Duril’s hair stand on end. The orc chief stood tall inside the tent, frothing at the mouth, his eyes bulging out of their sockets.
“Grand Chief?” Winglog asked tentatively. And then his mean eyes turned toward Duril and narrowed. “What did you give him?”
“A cure,” Duril said bravely and wiped the dirty fingers on his pants.
Yarag growled another time and began walking out of the tent, each step he took making the earth shake. He seemed no longer to be the master of his senses, and his eyes were like glass, while his limbs were stiff.
“You’ll die for this,” Winglog said and drew his curved blade.
Duril took one step back, then another. Then, quickly, he grabbed the pot from the ground and threw it at the orc warrior who, taken by surprise by his attack, barely had time to sidestep and dodge. But Sog, in his silliness, threw himself over the pot, his tongue hanging out, eager to devour the last remnants of food, oblivious to what was happening around him.
“Sog, no!” Duril shouted and jumped to kick the pot out of the orc’s way.
That, however, put him right in the path of Winglog’s sharp blade, and Duril ducked at the last minute, apparently more agile than he remembered himself to be. Nonetheless, that forced him to slide and land on his back, and the following moment, Winglog towered above him, his blade raised.
Duril wished he was capable of closing his eyes, but something inside him, an overpowering feeling, ordered him to watch. His fascinated gaze slid off the sharp edge.
“Now you die,” Winglog growled, but just as he was about to drive his blade right through Duril’s chest, he was picked up like a toy and tossed away.
Duril looked up and met Yarag’s glassy eyes. The next thing he knew, the Grand Chief grabbed him and carried him outside, holding him by a leg as if he were a little girl’s doll.
The world swung around, and Duril was thankful for not having eaten for many hours, or else the contents of his stomach would have surely demanded to be released by now. The orc camp appeared to his eyes like a twisted merry-go-round, and a feeling of helplessness overcame him.
It all lasted but a blink of an eye, as he was suddenly lifted and it took him moments to realize that Yarag had perched him on his shoulder, as if he were a parrot resting on a pirate captain’s shoulder.
Yarag continued to growl, and around them, the orc camp was falling quiet, all heads turning toward the Grand Chief. Duril had had little to do in his life with victims of snake poisoning, thus he had little basis to compare with what was happening to the supreme leader of the orcs. From where he stood, it all appeared jumbled and madness, but he had never before treated an orc, so he had no idea what to expect.
All of a sudden, Yarag was on the move again. The orcs around scampered out of his path, afraid of being caught under the Grand Chief’s large feet, and sounds of fear rose from everywhere. Duril held himself steady with the only hand he had clutched on the coarse fabric of Yarag’s shirt, but as the orc moved, he was bounced to and fro, more than once coming close to falling and managing to remain glued to the other through force of miracle alone.
Yarag stopped as suddenly as he had started walking, in front of a large tent. The orcs fell silent again, and the much-needed break allowed Duril time to examine the place where they stopped. It appeared to be the place where one of the most powerful clans resided, or at least its leaders, if he were to judge by the intricate skull arrangement that adorned both sides by the entrance.
Another growl, and this time Duril realized that he understood what was happening. Yarag didn’t look like himself, as prey to madness as he appeared to be, but his intentions were obvious. He was challenging his challengers, and that could only mean one thing. The poison was leaving his body, and Yarag must have felt the power growing inside him once more.
Since he had stepped foot inside the orc camp, Duril had only known the Grand Chief as someone almost overcome by poison and illness, but now he was getting a front row seat to witness the greatness that Yarag had to be. To say that he was in a state of stunned awe was too little to describe what he was feeling.
And all this time, he noticed, he didn’t feel one smidge of fear. The only overwhelming feeling he experienced was exultation. The growls leaving Yarag’s throat intermittently and with meaning now made his own blood boil.
Yarag demanded retribution. Yarag demanded blood. And Duril wanted the same, so even in his much more subdued voice, he began to ask for them, as well. Behind them, the tribes still loyal to the Grand Chief started to chant.
***
“Well, what is this thing you believe I’ve never eaten?” Demophios hissed and circled around him, undulating his giant body.
“Yourself,” Toru said and crossed his arms, setting his chin high.
Demophios stopped for a moment and then started laughing. “Why would I do that? Do you believe I would fall for such a cheap trick?”
“You say you’ve lived forever,” Toru said, a bit miffed that the giant snake didn’t easily fall prey to the cleverness of his plan. “So it’s the plain truth that you need to eat yourself to become immortal.”
If he could only make Demophios take a huge chunk out of himself, the snake would be out of commission long enough so that Varg and Claw would escape his deadly embrace. That was the plan, but Toru cursed his lack of a sweet tongue that could have helped him convince his enemy to do that.
His claws and fangs couldn’t cut through those tough scales. But Demophios had to be strong and his fangs sharp enough. At least that was what he was counting on.
“You think yourself clever,” Demophios hissed. “You believe that I would hurt myself for your sake so that you can save your friends without giving me what’s rightfully mine.”
How long was this snake anyway? Toru’s eyes traveled along the scaly body, but it was hard to say where the end was. “Hurt yourself? If you took a little bite out of this huge body of yours, I bet you wouldn’t even feel it,” he said stubbornly.
Demophios let out another hiss. He no longer appeared amused as earlier. “I don’t plan on falling prey to such silly tricks, young tiger.”
“All right,” Toru said with a sigh. Another idea was struggling to reach the surface. “A snake as wise as you wouldn’t, indeed.”
“The answer is inside your mind, Toru,” Demophios hissed lazily. “I know it for sure, but it is up to you to find it. So, think, young tiger, think.”
Toru frowned and pretended to be lost in thought. Somehow, he needed to use Demophios’s own outstanding power to beat him since he couldn’t through his strength alone. “You are so long,” he said with admiration he only half-faked. “I can’t even see your tail.”
“My tail? Do you want to see my tail?”
“Yes,” Toru said with determination. The giant snake had to circle him all the time in that manner maybe because his body was so heavy and he couldn’t move it all with ease. That was what gave him another idea, and this time, he hoped it would work.
Demophios uncoiled slowly, and Toru’s eyes searched in vain for his comrades. “Where are Claw and Varg?” he asked.
“You won’t be able to see them until I allow it.”
So, it had to be a trick or a magic of sorts like the one that could make the oasis appear although it wasn’t there, only that this time, it worked backwards, and it hid from view what should be there.
He prepared his entire body, muscle and sinew and bone, as Demophios spread his body until Toru began to see the end of it. “Ha! It’s such a puny tail,” he said. “Nothing like mine.”
“Do you wish that I indulge you in such games? I do have time, young tiger, as I told you. It is you and your friends that do not have the same luxury I enjoy. Behold my powerful tail.”
Toru smirked as Demophios brought his tail near to show it to him. All of a sudden, he struck, grabbing a hold of the humongous tail and straddling it.
“What are you doing?” Demophios shouted. “I am not some seahorse for you to ride.”
Toru held the tip of the tail and examined it furtively. The scales there, as he suspected, were tough and sharp, hardened by the many times Demophios must have molted with the passing of millennia. He held it as a weapon. “If you don’t want me to ride your tail, just make me stop.”
“Stubborn child,” Demophios roared and tried to bump Toru off with a frontal attack.
Laughing, Toru slid around with ease and came up on top again. This snake would have to do better if he wanted to escape. If only he could guide the sharp tip of the tail and drive it through Demophios’s scaly body. He doubted it would be enough to put the giant snake out of commission for long, but it was his best bet right now. Varg and Claw needed him, and wasting time was not an option.
“Come and eat me,” Toru taunted his enemy and waved the giant tail. Just as he suspected, it took Demophios a great deal of effort to use that part of his body to shake off the unwanted rider, and that was what he counted on.
“Don’t challenge me, young tiger,” Demophios hissed.
He was quick as he thrashed, trying to knock Toru off. Too bad for him, Demophios had no idea who he was dealing with. Toru was not some weakling, and he had traveled high and low, fighting and earning his living with fangs and claws, but, as he realized at that moment, through wits, as well. As impetuous as the young blood coursing through his veins was, his mind was clearer now than ever before. He grabbed Demophios’s tail with all his might and began to use it as a spear, launching it toward the giant snake’s head again and again.
“Stop this silly game right now,” Demophios warned, but Toru just laughed and pointed the sharp tail toward the sky.
“Do you want to live forever, you ugly snake? Not if you’re going to choke on your own tail.” He had bided his time long enough, and now he suddenly tipped the tail lower, taking Demophios by surprise and pushing his improvised weapon forward.
Annoyed by his actions, Demophios had just made the mistake of trying to dash against him once more from the flank, but he only found himself where Toru wanted him to be. The sharp tip went straight through his open mouth, and Toru, first yanked forward by the force of the thrust and the impulse that must have coursed through Demophios’s body, barely recovered and forced more of it down the giant snake’s throat.
A gurgling sound emerged from Demophios’s gorge.
What are you doing to me?
The snake could no longer talk, but he was speaking directly to Toru’s mind and there was no escape from his voice.
“I’m just saving my friends,” Toru shouted in reply. “Your fault for getting in the way and trying to hurt them. No one hurts my friends!”
Demophios’s eyes glittered dangerously, but the more he tried to close his mouth, the more he appeared to choke. And when he tried to open it more, Toru was right there, pushing more of his tail in, until the cold eyes began dimming. The enormous slithering body shook and convulsed, and it took Toru all his power to hold on and continue his work mercilessly, until Demophios no longer moved and his head fell to the ground, heavy like lead. Toru jumped to the ground at the last moment, as in a last ditch effort Demophios attempted to crush him under his weight.
“Ha! That’s what you get for going against me,” Toru shouted victoriously.
The giant snake shook and trembled a few more times and then went stiff. Toru wasted no more time and began running around the collapsed body, in search of Varg and Claw. Fear began rearing its ugly head, as his eyes caught nothing else but endless scales wherever he looked. Could it be that Demophios had eaten them anyway? That they were now trapped inside that giant body, slowly suffocating?
***
Varg woke up with a jolt. There was a rumbling sound, all around him, and, for a few moments, he struggled to get his bearings. “Claw?” he called in a gravelly voice, as if he had been asleep or on his sickbed for too long.
“Right here, puppy,” the bearshifter’s voice came from somewhere near, but just as if woken from a deep slumber like his.
“What’s happening?” Varg opened his eyes wide but saw nothing but darkness.
“If only I knew,” Claw replied.
Just then, as if their waking up was the key to trigger something else, Varg felt his body tumbling from a height, although he couldn’t tell where up and down were, not as his entire being appeared to be thrown out of balance and beyond his power to control it.
He bumped into something, and it took him moments to realize that it was actually Claw who was tumbling down by his side, both unable to stop whatever was happening to them. Any questions he could have at this point, he needed to forget them, as the only answer that mattered came right away.
Soon, his body met hard ground, and a grunt was forced out of him as Claw landed on top of him. Disoriented, he accepted the offered hand once the bearshifter got to his feet, and then stared around. Demophios’s scaly body lay stiff around them, high as a citadel’s walls.
“Toru!” Varg called out, and soon Claw joined him.
Could it be that kitty had managed to defeat the giant snake? It wasn’t impossible to believe, but Varg bet that Toru now had quite a story to tell. By his side, Claw walked toward the snake’s stiff body and slammed his fist against it.
“You two don’t have to yell that much,” Toru replied from above, perched on the apparently dead snake and looking down at them. “I have two good ears,” he added and grinned.
“Why don’t you help us up and I’ll count them for you,” Varg said and let a huge grin split his face. Toru would always put a smile on his face, but right now, he was the happiest he had ever been when seeing the young tigershifter.
“How did you defeat Demophios?” Claw asked as Toru lay on his belly and extended his arm so that he could help them out of there.
“With his own tail,” Toru declared and puffed out his chest. “But you’ll have to see it to believe it.”
As soon as he got up, Varg embraced Toru hard and kissed him on the lips, making him blush. No matter how naughty and daring Toru was when they were alone and could play with one another, the fact that Claw was there and could see them was enough to uncover a shy part of him.
And Varg loved all parts of him, shy or daring, and especially because of his unwavering courage that must have been at the root of this rescue mission. Just to tease Toru a little bit more, he nuzzled his neck and kissed him again. The tigershifter didn’t push him away, although his cheeks just got redder and hotter.
“Thank you for saving us, kitty,” he whispered.
They descended on the other side and walked along the long and sinewy body until they reached the head. Claw approached the monster carefully and stared into the stony eyes that had used to glint with ill intent before. His large mouth was open wide, and his long body disappeared inside. Just as the bearshifter, Varg walked around it, observing it from all angles.
“I’ll be damned, kitty, you’ve done it,” Claw expressed his satisfaction. “You truly beat this old monster with his own tail.”
“Didn’t I say so?” Toru bristled a little but then he came by Varg’s side and brushed his head against his shoulder. “So glad to see you two alive.”
Claw nodded as he stood by the giant snake head, his thoughtful eyes peering down.
“We should get going,” Varg suggested out loud. “Now that Toru moved another obstacle out of our way, we should continue without delay. What do you say, Claw?”
“Demophios is an ancient creature,” the bearshifter said, suddenly pulled from his reverie. “I don’t doubt that he’s dead, but --”
His words were cut short by a sudden gust of wind that brought with it hot pinching speckles of sand that began to pelt their faces. Varg raised one arm to shield his face while using the other to pull Toru close. Claw came to embrace them and they stood together, waiting for the wind to die down.
“This wind is not natural,” Claw said.
Their foreheads were almost touching, but they had done a good job at keeping the sand away by positioning themselves like that.
Toru moaned in displeasure. “It’s like this desert wants to keep us away from Duril. When it’s not giant snakes, it’s nasty winds. When are we going to see him again?”
Just as he said the words, the wind died down, as quickly as it had come about, but they remained in their tight embrace for a bit longer, waiting for some other thing to strike. Toru was right. The desert was against them, an unfriendly place teeming with mysteries, but they were stronger, as the tigershifter had just proven.
Claw was the first to move, and they followed right away.
“Where is the dead snake?” Toru asked.
Varg and Claw stared dumbfounded at the empty space where Demophios’s body had been only moments earlier. The snake was nowhere to be seen.
“That’s not a nice thing to say, young tiger,” a faint voice intervened.
They looked at each other, apparently all alarmed that they might be hearing voices that weren’t supposed to be heard.
“I am far from dead,” the voice continued.
Claw was the first to notice the small silver pendant on the ground. He grabbed it and held it high, the hot sun making it shine.
“Demophios?” Varg asked and moved closer.
The object Claw held had a circular shape, and at a closer look, it appeared to be a snake… eating his own tail.
“How can he be? I defeated him,” Toru said stubbornly.
Small laughter was the answer. “I knew you were the key. Now I’m immortal.”
Toru scrunched up his nose. “You’re a brooch or something. Is that really you, ugly snake?”
“Mind your manners, young tiger. Yes, it is I. And now I belong to you for the remainder of your road.”
“Ewww, I don’t want to carry a dead snake with me,” Toru argued.
The pendant sighed, although there was no sign of movement in the inanimate object. Inanimate was a way of saying, since the voice came clearly from there, without the slightest doubt.
“I am an endless fountain of knowledge,” Demophios replied. “You gave me what I wanted, so in turn, I’ll help you in your quest.”
“We have enough people who are friends, not like you. You’re annoying,” Toru declared.
“Wait a little, kitty,” Claw intervened. “Given the importance of your quest, nothing that happens to you can be discarded as unimportant. I’d say you should give the snake a chance to convince you.”
“I’ll take you to where your healer is. After all, your strength, young tiger, is in these bonds you keep on forging,” Demophios said promptly. “Including the one with me.”
Toru didn’t seem all too convinced. “Weren’t you saying that I should be alone?”
“Did you believe me?” Demophios said suavely.
“Not for one moment,” Toru said back.
“So. You learned something important about your strength, and I received the gift I’ve kept on seeking for so long. Now it’s my turn to return the favor. Unless you want to wander through the desert and end up without your healer once he starts moving with the horde.”
Toru sighed. “All right. But if you dare to trick us, I’ll find a blacksmith and have him turn you into coffin nails,” he threatened.
“That is definitely not a fate I’m willing to choose,” Demophios said. “Worms are hardly great companions for all eternity. Or skeletons.”
Claw threw the pendant at Toru who caught it deftly. The tigershifter examined it for a bit and then discovering that a pin was attached to it, he stabbed the fabric of his shirt and hung it there.
“Wise choice, young tiger, wise choice,” Demophios said. “And it was a marvelous idea that, in order to become immortal, all I needed to do was to devour myself.”
Toru growled, much to Varg’s amusement. “When I told you, you didn’t believe me.”
Demophios laughed. “Admit it. You only wanted to get rid of me.”
“No,” Toru denied and set his chin high in defiance. “I was very wise.”
Even Claw had to laugh at that. Varg had no choice but to follow. Wise or not, Toru was amazing, and it had been only through his choices and quick wits that he and Claw were still breathing now, without a doubt. He had his fair share of questions he wanted to ask Demophios, but he decided to keep them to himself for now. As Claw had explained to him about the giant snake, such forces were at work that could help them but only if used wisely. If Toru caught a little whiff of the possibility that Demophios had planned on devouring him and Claw – something he guessed by himself – he could choose to leave the snake behind, and his knowledge would be lost to them, as a matter of consequence.
“A symbol of infinity,” Claw remarked as he examined for a few moments the decorative ornament Demophios had turned into. “All lives end, but all life is eternal.”
Demophios offered a small laugh. “That is what I call wise. Silly stubborn tigers trying to fool me into devouring myself aren’t that.”
Toru bristled at that right away. “Say whatever you want, snake. This silly stubborn tiger just turned you immortal. Unless I turn you into coffin nails after all.”
“Ha! I’d still be immortal even then,” Demophios replied. “I would just be useless to anyone until I was discovered again. Mind you, it’s all the same to me, but it’s your choice whether you want to use me or not.”
“You dare to talk only because I chose to take you with me,” Toru shot back, determined, as he seemed, to have the last word.
“True,” Demophios acquiesced. “I’ve been stuck around this desert for too long, so I won’t mind a new adventure. Nothing is more enthralling than being part of saving the world.”
“Stop talking so much, you’re making my head hurt,” Toru complained. “Now tell us quickly where Duril is.”
“We need to keep the path to the north. It is only there that the orcs find the water pits so that they can cook and satisfy their thirst.”
“Do they eat and drink water like everyone else?” Toru asked, curious just like Varg, about learning new things of the strange creatures calling the desert their home.
“Not quite like everyone else,” Demophios explained. “They are among the hardiest creatures to populate our world. They can march for days and nights without drinking a drop of water. But when they stop, like right now, they do so by the water pits that we’ll find by walking north of here.”
Varg clicked his tongue. “Too bad we’re not as hardy as them, and that we still need water and food, at least every several days.” He wasn’t saying that for his sake, but mostly for Claw who seemed to be suffering the most ever since they had set foot in the desert.
“Then it’s a good thing I’m with you. Check your water pouch, master wolf,” Demophios recommended.
Varg pulled the water pouch from the bag and shook it, not believing his eyes. “Is it real? Not one of your mirages?”
Demophios let out a snort. “I can bend reality, it’s true, but I assure you that I can do more than just make mirages appear as real in front of your eyes. Slake your thirst, saviors of the world. This immortal snake can do much more for you.”
“You’re so full of yourself,” Toru commented. “If that water isn’t real, I’m going to turn you into nails myself.”
“Just go ahead and try it,” Demophios said. “As long as it quenches your thirst, it must be real, right?”
Varg took a small gulp. It was water, fresh and sweet, as if it had just been drawn from a well, and he had no qualms about it, even if it were a mirage of sorts, after all. Then he passed the pouch over to Claw who took it with trembling hands.
“Drink and gain back your strength,” Demophios encouraged them. “And in that big bag, you’ll find some fruit, as well.”
Varg opened the bag and looked inside. A few ripe peaches were there, and the sight of them made his belly growl. It had been a while since they had left the oasis behind, and they had determined to be mindful about their supplies until they reached more abundant places.
Claw wiped his mouth with the back of the hand, and the look of relief on his face told Varg what the bearshifter hadn’t dared to say. For some time, Claw must have been exhausted, but he had said nothing of it, just continuing to help them in their quest of finding Duril. That was enough reason to be thankful for meeting the giant snake.
“Do you know how to make meat?” Toru asked.
“No. I can make oases appear out of thin air and pull the morning dew to make water, or snatch some peaches for you to keep your strength up, but that’s all,” Demophios said.
“What kind of immortal snake are you?” Toru taunted him. “You can’t even make meat.”
Demophios laughed. “I leave the hunting to the hunters. And I’m here not to keep your belly full, but to help you on the path that will get you where you need to be.”
“What do you know of Zukh Kalegh?” Varg asked. The snake could set them on the right path to reach Duril, but that didn’t make things any easier once they would be there and forced to confront an entire horde of bloodthirsty orcs.
“Old tribes,” Demophios replied. “The orcs are made from mud and sand. They mixed with blood and came into being. But I can only guess that you’re not interested in the learning of old history.”
“Maybe another time,” Varg suggested. “What can you tell us that will help us to get our friend back?”
“Ah, the answer is easy, yet difficult at the same time,” Demophios said. “Your friend went to join his brothers of his own accord. As we speak, he’s not forced into slavery or anything of the sort. All of his actions are nothing but the direct result of his choices. And it will be his choice to come back to you.”
“Doesn’t he want to get back to us right now?” Toru asked. “He must be thinking of us.”
Varg tensed a bit, expecting Demophios’s answer to be blunt and unforgiving. “His mind now belongs to his tribe,” the snake began. “He needs to pledge his loyalty and earn his place with them. That doesn’t mean that he no longer belongs with you.”
“So, it’s like he just needs to visit his family, right?” Toru said, his voice filled with hope.
“It is a way of saying that,” Demophios admitted, much to Varg’s relief.
The snake’s words were giving Varg hope, as well. Demophios had no reason to lie, and he appeared to be no stranger to saying things the diplomatic way. All in all, they would have their chance to convince Duril to come back to them.
TBC