16. things not to think about
“Best not to think about who might be following you, though; they’re clearly adept at not being found, which means they’ll only be seen when they *want* to be seen.”
Right. Well you won’t think about that then, no way. Things are far too close to being bearable right now to spoil them with paranoia.
“Paranoia is *healthy!*”
You respectfully disagree with the voice in your head. You have had more than your recommended allowance of paranoia already today. Enough is enough. You’re going to wander along by this river and twirl your shiny new sword and-
“Don’t swing that sword about like that unless you have to, you’ll make it dull!”
You sigh deeply, and sheathe your sword. Fine then. You’ll just walk along quietly, not thinking about who might be watching you. Not thinking about that at all… you look around you, trying to admire the scenery and not at all keeping an eye out for any shadowy figures in the undergrowth. Butterflies flail through the air with wings like madly patterned paper napkins. On a nearby tree a millipede the colour of copper coils its way up the trunk, its body as thick as your arm. A ratlike creature with long webbed fingers hops off a rock into the stream, chasing fish through the reeds. As the noon chorus of screaming insects starts to fade to a dull hiss, you’re gratified to find that your shadow is roughly ahead of you. You grudgingly thank the voice that guessed it would be, though the realisation that it’s now definitively the afternoon prompts the thought of night falling before too long. A night alone in this creeping, crawling forest… or not alone…
You are certainly not looking about for figures lurking in the trees. You agreed you wouldn’t think about that. Nope, not a thought spared for the unknown set of eyes that watched you while you slept…
“So how did that song go again? The one Nanoc the Dragon’bone’chewer used to sing in Volumes 34-37 of the Swordventure in Swordland series, before he died of mosquito bite? Ah, yes:
Down in the vale where the dragons snore,
The manticores yawn and the spyders roar
(Poisonous spyders who don’t like yer face!),
The demons do squeal, and flee in wild chase.
For behold! Our hero with rattling sabre
Cuts them all into little pieces like so many parsley leaves,
such is his glorious labour!
Surely that’ll warn anyone and anything that is considering whether to attack you and put you back in a prison cell and bite your head off that you’re not one to be messed with, no sir.”
You try to warble a few lines of the half-remembered song. A bee flies past your ear, startling you, and you stumble forward a few steps, stubbing your toe on a tree root. By the time you’ve regained a semblance of composure, you’ve entirely forgotten the tune, which was always a rather tenuous contrivance on that particular song. You hum falteringly as you walk along, trying to regain it, and picking up your pace in the hope it’ll quicken your mind. Certainly not because you’re scared. Certainly not because you glimpsed something moving across the river just as you stumbled. You refuse to look at it. Perhaps nobody was ever following you. Perhaps it was some trick of the charm. People with undiscovered magic talents always end up activating them while they sleep, just as Nanoc did, accidentally turning the countess of Buxomia into a dragon while he slept, remember, in book thirty-five? Yeah. This bird’s foot charm must have some sort of power of understanding. You sleep-walked through finding the maps and working out the compass-watch thing, then climbed back into your tree, and woke up. Without leaving any footprints. Yeah….
“From what Vengre said about your charm (and I don’t mean your charisma, though according to him you were lacking in that area too,) we can assume it has power over movement and the lack thereof. I’m guessing this is why you find walking barefoot so comfortable right now. If you pay attention to the ground I bet you’ll notice all the grass, flowers, insects and mice are keeping out of the way like commoners making way for their king.”
You look down at your feet, as instructed. Grasshoppers leap from under them, but grasshoppers always do that. You step into some longer grass, to see what happens… and stagger back, as it parts away from you like green curtains. Shakily, you take another step forward, and watch minute prickles and dried leaves roll away from you. You wobble, one foot raised into the air, too stunned to bring it down to earth. You’re not sure how long you stand there. Minutes, maybe…
Something rustles on the other side of the river. A loud, protrusive sound amid the lazy murmurings of insects. Your foot thuds back to earth and you look round, in time to see a rabbit reach the edge of the river, pivot desperately on one foot (hoof?) and race back into the undergrowth. Somewhere not too distant some insect is barking out shrill notes. If a bird was making them you’d say it was an alarm call, but you’ve no idea if insects get alarmed. Maybe it saw a frightening flower. Yeah. Nothing to worry about. You hurry onwards, resolutely not looking at your feet. But this only means you’re more aware of what’s going on around you. The river is properly a river now, wide enough that you couldn’t jump over it, deep enough that you’d have to wade, maybe even swim in places. More rabbits race past, and some of them do try to jump the river, crashing into the water feet away from you and scrambling up the bank, unheeding of your presence. Alarm calls erupt constantly behind and to your left. Out of honey, you tell yourself. That’s all it is. Bugs aren’t frightened by normal things. And rabbits are just mad anyway. And then something new appears on the other side of the river. It does so without fuss or noise, so that by the time you notice it, it could have been there for several minutes, walking calmly along the opposite riverbank, watching you.
If insects and rabbits are alarmed by that, you can understand why.
Once it is sure you’ve seen it, the creature steps into the river, and begins to wade across, keeping its gaze fixed on you.
Whatever this creature is, it does not mean you harm. Not immediately anyways. If it wanted an easy meal it would have simply crossed instead of waiting for you to see it, perhaps you should try introducing yourself and asking its name since it was so nice about not immediately devouring you. Its only common courtesy right?
It looks unhappy about something though. Maybe you did something to offend or perhaps it is completely unrelated to you but to be on the safe side perhaps you should apologize for any territory’s you blundered into without realizing it. It does look like a rather territorial creature, don’t you think?
If things do go badly, you shouldn’t have any problems with anything obstructing your path if you have to run anymore thanks to that charm on your belly. You should still be mindful of roots and the larger tree limbs though as they are a bit less malleable than grass and flowers.
February 3, 2013 at 5:52 pm
Just remember the age-old line: “Ray, when someone asks you if you’re a god…. You say YES!”
Looks sort of like a sphinx, doesn’t it? Courtesy will go a long way, so whether this creature wants to eat you or be friends with you, a conversation will at least buy you some time. Running too soon will likely trigger a chase instinct, and while you’re fast from the charm now, that creature looks awfully fast, too, and has a better knowledge of the terrain than you do.
If the time comes to make a run for it, maybe you could try holding your cape behind you to catch some air and perhaps even fly? Even a good, long jump across the river could buy you time if the beast attempts to jump after you and falls in.
For now, introduce yourself (ignore any condescending retorts), and maybe even compliment its mane. Above all though, remember that creatures with faces are the most dangerous in this land. (I guess that’s true for everywhere, really.)
February 3, 2013 at 6:34 pm
Dear David,
I must extend to you my apologies for not offering a word or two of calming so that you wouldn’t gain a seed of fear into your mind. I had been called away to deal with a problem, which has now been taken care of. So, seeing as all you have to do is travel, I’ll keep this brief. You are most likely traveling in the wrong direction. Thanks to whoever is following you, you know know that your clock works like a compass, consistently pointing you towards Midnight. Which makes it fair to assume Midnight as being north, so if you align the Elsewhere map to what you remember of your own world map, you’d realize that would mean Dawn is East, Teatime is South and Gloaming is West. If you are supposed to be heading towards Gloaming, west, then your shadow would be following you as the day went on. But here you have been following your shadow. So for all intents and purposes you are currently headed towards the Inbetween, which may turn out to be a mistake. I’d suggest turning around and heading back the way you came, perhaps using your watch as a the navigational tool that it has become. In any case, don’t worry yourself over whatever may be following you, at the moment it’s presented you no harm, just mild worry and paranoia. Let this, whatever it is, follow you as much as it wants, but don’t forget that there is in fact something following you. We’ll deal with it when the time comes. Two more things before I send you on your way, the first is going back to a point I made a while ago, yet still very well believe. Do no grow to rely upon that charm of yours, it’s as much of a curse as the Elsewhere people perceive it to be a blessing. Be wary. As a final point, feel free to use your sword. You’ll need to get accustomed to using it so that when a time comes that you must fight, you’ll be ready. Preventing it from rusting and blunting is really rather simplistic. Don’t swing your sword against rocks, and wipe the blade clean before sheathing it. That should just about do it, you’ve got a lot of traveling to do so I’ll let you get to it. Be sure to watch the wild life as you go, they’ll react to the dangers of this land with post haste, use them as a reference point to know when to run an or hide. Also, before the day fully turns to night, you may want to kill one of the rabbits so you’ll have something to eat.
Good Luck, and watch for the c-
Is that a manticore? Yes, I see it there, the face of a man, the blood red body of a lion and the spiked tail. How is it that you keep blundering into difficult situations? Well this most certainly in validates most of my previous advice, priorities and all. Don’t listen to the Elsewhere people on this one, Manticores have a particularly strong preference for human flesh, and I highly doubt this one wants to have a conversation with it’s dinner. If it can even speak your tongue. Draw your blade boy, and begin to move along the river. Do not run, not just yet, allow the best to hinder itself against the river flow. You won’t be able to out run it on level ground. Thankfully it doesn’t have wings, you’d be in a stickier situation if it did. Not that it matters as it would be after you regardless. Anyway, this leads to a choice. You could lure it into the river, where it’ll struggle to cross, allowing you time to flee. Or you can wait, blade drawn, for it to get near enough to you so you can plunge your blade into it’s face and claim it’s coat for yourself. The hide of a manticore could be rather useful, but your life is far more valuable in the long run. Ask yourself if you’re able, from what I’ve seen of you, the confrontation can go either way. If you decide to fight, beware of it’s tail. Legends of the manticore make mention of it being able to shoot those spikes from itself. I doubt that would be a pleasant experience. However, and while I really would rather not suggest it, while you are deciding upon whether to fight or flee, while moving along the bank of the river to hinder the beast, you may as well call to it. Seeing as the Elsewhere people want you to do so. Maybe it’ll call back and you’ll be able to make a new friend, but then maybe the Red Guard really weren’t about to kill you under suspicion of being a god. I dislike maybes, so lets avoid chances we really don’t need to take.
Stay alive,
The Earl of Levant
February 3, 2013 at 9:51 pm
HOLYCRAPIT”SALION!!!!! Uh…ahem…sorry, I meant, oh my, a lion … thing…well, ok then. Since it could have eaten you a while ago, and it’s obviously dangerous, judging from the fleeing critters, it is best to approach this creature with caution and politeness. I mean politeness never hurts, right? Perhaps it is sentient, and in that case, you don’t want to insult it by acting as though it should not be. Just be as calm as you can be when facing a frickin’ lion…thing and speak to it, in a cool, clear voice. It’s also a good thing that you have a sword, just in case the lion…thing gets ideas that you’d be a tasty meal. I hope it’s not hungry. If it is, maybe it’s up for rabbit instead of human? Either way, be glad for the sword. Let it give you a semblance of courage and hope that the lion…thing…with the spiky tail and sombre face will not try to eat your face! *Gulp* Uh, I mean, go you!! You can do it!!!!
February 7, 2013 at 12:26 am
The Earl of Levant is right. It’s a manticore. The monster hasn’t yawned yet – but that may not be sufficient to prevent anxious speculation that it was summoned by your singing that blasted song of Nanoc’s. It may be advisable to desist from moving to the second verse, wherein that bloodthirsty thirteen-headed … No, we better not even think about it.
The frustrated scientist in you may want to check whether manticores really have three rows of teeth, as Pliny the Elder reported. Observational data on manticore dentition – that would really be something to write home about!
The manticore may not appreciate having its maw examined, of course. But surely no monster, however plentiful its teeth, would object to a polite question motivated by genuine thirst for knowledge?
February 7, 2013 at 10:36 pm