CHAPTER 26

“We need some ground rules,” Kopius stated. His forearm had fully healed after about five minutes, having spent that time watching Cici rummage through the skinwalkers’ ashy remains.

“What did you have in mind?” Cici replied, wiping the soot from his hands.

“I don’t know,” Kopius shrugged. ”You take the left; I’ll take the right. I’ll take the front; you take the back. Stuff like that.”

“Well, I will need to be in the front. I know the way.” Cici answered plainly.

“No–I mean, of course you’d lead the way,” Kopius stammered, unsure if the big man was toying with him or not. “Next time we have to fight is what I am asking.”

“I will… take the right,” he finally finished. From Kopious’s perspective, it was as though Cici had flipped an imaginary coin in the air and it had landed on ‘right’. For the first time, Kopius wondered if Cici even knew how to fight. Though the man was large and imposing, he was also charming, witty, and handsome. Maybe he has never really had to fight, Kopius wondered.

Taking a second to think back on their past interactions, Kopius just couldn’t figure it out. He had let me go on a pretty wild story, watched me get manhandled without doing anything, and now he’s climbing trees quicker than a hanging curveball leaves the park…

“You, ah,” Kopius said hesitantly, ”you do know how to fight… right?”

“Of course,” Cici replied with the same confidence as every other word that came out his mouth. Kopius had expected a “yes” answer but was hoping to hear some indignation or hesitation on Cici’s part to give him a clue. The big man had simply, plainly, as confident as ever, said yes. Not even partially convinced, Kopius let the matter drop… for now.

“Ok, I will take the left,” Kopius finally said. He gestured at the large pile of ash. ”Did you find what you were looking for?”

“I did not,” Cici replied, ”and what that tells me is that this one was fairly young… as far as skinwalkers go.” Cici took the cue from the look on Kopius to explain further. “When skinwalkers aren’t feasting on lost adventures, they will seek nourishment elsewhere. They can detect a rare mineral deep in the ground which they dig up and eat. This mineral keeps them alive—well, as alive as they can be. When these skinwalkers consume enough, they begin to harden. So when you kill one of these hardened skinwalkers, you will find small, pebble-sized ore in the ashes.” Cici held up his hand and created a small circle, the size of a dime, with his pointer finger and thumb.

“That doesn’t seem like much of anything,” Kopius interjected.

“True,” Cici said with a grin, ”by itself, it produces little; worth nothing. But, if you were to gather enough and have a competent blacksmith smelt it down, it makes for one of the most dynamic metals in all of Metem.”

“Dynamic how?”

“I don’t know all the details, but it can be easily sewn into materials to make them stronger and more durable, known to withstand heat, for the most part. Mages like to use it for their wands or staffs, dwarfs for protection when working the forge. There are other aspects, but those two I mentioned are well known.”

“Sewn… like a metal thread?” Kopius guessed.

“Yes, exactly that.”

“Why not a full piece of metal, for a helmet or a weapon or… something?”

“You would have to be a special kind of crazy to hunt down that many skinwalkers.”

“Are you like… collecting them, saving up for something?” Kopius asked with curiosity.

“Me?” Cici replied with a laugh. “Noooo, I will sell or trade what I find in Cawbachu.”

“But why not save them and make your own… thing?”

“My hammer is made from astralsilicate,” Cici said in a reverent tone. He pulled the weapon off his back and coddled the anvil-sized, iridescent weapon with both hands ”Nothing tougher than this, I promise you,” he declared graciously. “This old girl doesn’t sing like a sword, nor does she bargain like a knife.” Cici then pulled the head of the hammer close to his chest in a way that caused Kopius to raise an eyebrow. Speaking directly to his weapon, Cici continued, “No, my sweet, you bring the weight of a thousand stars down upon our foes. Nobody shines brighter than you.”

The big man, in a move Kopius never would have expected, booped his weapon. He booped it as one might boop an infant on the nose. It was as though the giant hammer was a small puppy and the big brute couldn’t help but gush.

I feel like this has been an ongoing conversation, Kopius thought to himself as he watched Cici return the weapon to his back.

“Fair enough,” Kopius half-quipped, half-coughed. “What's our next move here?”

“We still have a short walk until we are at the actual Pass.”

“We’re not in the Pass now?”

“We are close. Close enough to come across a skinwalker, but no, we have not reached it yet. So, let us get to moving.”

Roughly an hour of walking later and the trail opened up to a deep and wide expanse. To the right were steep hills, covered in tall, thick bushes. To the left, an even steeper and taller set of jagged peaks hogged the skyline. Between those two lay Escher Pass, maybe a mile wide if not more and stretching as far as the naked eye could see.

Occupying the floor of the Pass were countless massive rock columns, hoodoos, most covered in varying types of foliage and plant life. It looked as though an ancient river had dried long ago, leaving behind a severely cracked bed of dried mud. Except the dry grooves in this case were hundreds of feet deep and varying distances apart, creating a natural maze of sorts. The trail they were following broke into three paths, the middle leading down a steep incline directly to the floor of the giant rock column forest.

“You know how to get through there?” Kopius asked with the unease of someone who had just recently struggled out of two valleys. What’s the difference between a pass and a valley anyways?, Kopius wondered absently. Size? Width?

“It's not always the same path, but I know it well enough,” Cici answered.

“I don’t follow,” Kopius replied.

“You will want to follow, lad, or else you’ll get yourself lost.”

“No–I mean I don’t understand. Why not always the same path?”

Cici took a drink from his waterskin and then glanced up at the sky. He shielded his eyes from the sun, returned the waterskin to his belt and started down the steep incline. Kopius, not one to be ignored, repeated his question with some more force, ”Yo, Cici, what’s up with the path?”

Cici stopped and half-turned to look at Kopius. For the first time, Kopius swore the briefest moment of annoyance passed across the big man's face.

“Must you know everything?” Cici finally asked. He rubbed at his temple as if trying to massage away an oncoming headache.

“Did you see what happened with the skinwalker?” Kopius replied, gesturing to his now healed arm. “Not even the first time it's happened since I’ve been here.”

The way it came out of his mouth gave Cici pause before the big brute started to chuckle, breaking him of his funk.

“I’m sorry, my boy, a lot on my mind,” Cici answered, his normal smile returning. “We need to get down there before nightfall, and I can explain the rest on the way.” Kopius was unmoved by the words. “You’ll have to trust me, lad, or should I say,” Cici bowed deep, making a sweeping gesture with his hand, ”your Royal Highness.”

“Fuck off,” Kopius blurted, unable to surpress his own laughter, and the two men started down the long steep hill.

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“Last time it was ‘fuck you,’” Cici stated, but his face showed that it was also a question.

“Yeah,” Kopius answered with a shrug as he recalled his time in Cici’s cave, yelling at the pieces of wood for not setting on fire.

“Does it go with other words?”

“Oh yeah,” Kopius chuckled. “It goes with all kinds of words. You explain this moving path thing, and I’ll break down the F word for you.

“F word?”

“Yeah—fuck. The F word… it starts with the letter F.”

“Ah, I see. Context seems a factor here,” Cici said more to himself than as a reply to Kopius. As the two men walked down into Escher Pass, the giant rock columns took over the skyline, leaving only scattered bits of sunlight to guide their way.

It didn’t take the two long before they crossed paths with another skinwalker. The small dog-sized beast had come sprinting around one of the giant stone pillars and made a beeline directly for Kopius. With little time to think, Kopius threw out a kick and screamed “SPARTA!” like he was committing bloody murder. The beast whooshed into millions of dust particles that sprayed onto his face and chest. He felt a small rock hit him in the forehead as tiny bits of debris bounced off his clenched eyes. Kopius reeled back, waving his hands about as if to ward off the dust storm, coughing all the while.

“Impressive!” Cici yelled in the background. “Such passion! The shouting is unnecessary, but I respect your method.” Kopius managed to kung fu his way out of the dusty remains and was in the process of verifying his eyes still worked when he felt Cici at his shoulder.

“Here you go, my friend, your first bit of grafeen.” Cici said. Kopius looked to see the big man displaying a shiny, smooth pebble between his thumb and pointer fingers. He took it into his own fingers, closed the blank pop up window that appeared, and held it up in the remaining sunlight. It was no larger than the marbles he’d played with as a kid and just as smooth. The gray, metallic color glimmered in the setting sun, and Kopius found himself impressed with the small stone.

“How many of these do I need to make a sword?” Kopius asked.

Cici snorted, like a laugh-cough or somewhere between a sneeze and a hiccup. “Thousands–tens of thousands.”

This information broke Kopius from whatever thousand yard stare he was stuck in.

“Thousands? For one sword?”

“Tens of thousands, and yes.”

“I thought you said mages and blacksmiths use this stuff.”

“They do! A skilled blacksmith will create strings from these rocks and then those strings get interwoven into—whatever. I don’t know much past that, but the lady we are going to see in Cawbachu will.”

“Is she a skilled blacksmith?” Kopius asked, his mind wondering if this grafeen was some kind of magical Kevlar type of material.

“She was—she is a skilled Weaver,” Cici said with a shred of hesitation. “She is the closest thing you will get to a blacksmith, that’s for sure.”

“Are blacksmiths rare or something?”

“No, no, no. Blacksmiths will get deep into your coin is all, if you catch my meaning. ‘Weavers are a poor man’s blacksmith’ is what most will tell you. But don’t repeat that to a Weaver, lest you want your jangles shoved up your arse.” Cici said that last part in all seriousness. He even adjusted his manhood in a way that suggested he had firsthand knowledge. “Let’s keep on the move. We will follow the beaten path for now.”

The “beaten path” was a bit of a misnomer, mostly because it looked more barely traveled than beaten. There was a two-carts-wide path that weaved in and around the giant, plant-life-infused hoodoos. Yet, every few hundred yards, another similar “beaten path” would fork off into the stone column forest and be lost to sight within a turn or two. In other instances, a not-so well beaten path would merge back with the trail that the two were walking on.

Cici, on the way down to the valley floor, had explained that there was originally one path through but after time, the more intelligent creatures had started to set up ambushes along the way. This forced the less armored parties to find a way around the danger, thus creating multiple paths.

“For as long as history could be told, Escher Pass was the only way through to the southern lands,” Cici had said. “Steep hills to the south, mountains to the east, swamp and dense forest to the west and northwest. The raging waters of the Dinoson could get you there quick enough, but that's even more of a danger than the Pass itself.”

Kopuis got the long version of the story, but his takeaways were short and simple enough. At some point in time another route was carved out and around the hills and mountains to the south and east. After that, Escher Pass became a choice. The beaten path was less tread upon and the way through became less clear. Many of the tangent paths led to corpses and/or skeletons—travelers who were either ill-equipped for the danger or under-rationed for the journey.

Two of the more notable items: There were no trees in Escher Pass. They would have to bring their own wood for fire. Secondly, the place was without any viable or usable sources of water. They would come across ponds and a river, but the water would be undrinkable, “poisonous,” Cici had spat. They would need to keep an eye on their rations even with just a four-day trip.

“To the left!” Cici shouted for the fourth time in the last hour. Kopius, still nursing a wound from his previous skinwalker encounter, turned and located the oncoming threat. Facing the monster, he raised an outstretched hand holding a lit torch. He mustered the strength of every school crossing guard who had ever volunteered and stood bravely against the oncoming storm of teenage drivers. The storm in this case was a medium-sized skinwalker bear combo. The monster did not waver or slow at the sight of the flame, much to Kopius’s audible dismay.

“I thought you said they don’t like fire,” Kopius yelled nervously. The beast glided over rocks and through bushes, two hollow eyes locked on Kopius.

“Nah, I said they are fast but lack agility,” Cici replied as though they were out bird watching.

“You know,” Kopius shouted, ”just because they keep coming from the left doesn’t mean you can’t join in!”

By the time Kopius had finished complaining, the beast had closed the distance and lunged. Throwing courage out the window, Kopius ducked, rolled to the side, singed his shirt with the lit torch, and got to his feet. As he turned, the beast plowed into the stone pillar only a few feet behind him. In the few moments the monster needed to find its bearing, Kopius was on top of it. He stomped and then stabbed at the skinwalker with the torch, yelling “Sparta!”

Whoosh.

The skinwalker went up in a large plume of dust. Kopius backed away from the cloud of debris and gathered his breath. For the first time in a while, an empty, translucent window with a glittering border popped into his field of vision.

Too exhausted to be startled, he mentally closed the window. Another identical window popped up, which gave him a slight pause. He closed the window again, and a third empty window popped into view.

“What the hell,” Kopius murmured under his breath. Upon closing the third window, his ears heard a sound he wished to hear more often: Ding-dang, followed by a flashing indicator in his peripheral vision. He opened his profile page and smirked at the number 4 next to his name.

“I leveled up.”

Five times he had stomped out a skinwalker, and each came with its own rush of adrenaline. He felt jittery, like he had drank a gallon of gas station coffee. He also felt exhausted, drained of resources, and in need of a rest. The two emotions called to him, one convincing him he could sprint a mile while the other wanted to lure him into a nap.

“Nicely done,” Cici said as he came into view and inspected the leftover pile of skinwalker dust. “And you didn’t get it all over you this time!”

Kopius looked over himself and was grateful for the small win. The last four he had faced had left him inside the plume of dust, causing him to nearly cough to death. Three had gone like the first one had: the beast lunged, Kopius caught it in mid-flight, the dust particle followed the laws of physics and consumed him in its path.

The previous one had not lunged in a high, arcing fashion like the first three had. It, a skinwalker that looked like an oversized iguana had a baby with a koala, had sprung forward in more of a straight line, latching itself to the top part of his left leg and boot. Though the leather—or whatever material the boot consisted of—blunted much of the attack, several sharp fangs had broken through.

“Goddamnsumbitch!” Kopius had yelled before dropping to the ground. He had pulled at the creature, smashed it on the head using his sword, nearby rocks, and just about anything he could get his hands on. Meanwhile the monster pierced further into his leg and whipped about as though it was a large crocodile trying to death roll him. Finally, he kicked at the creature with his other foot.

“Sparta, Sparta, Sparta!” Kopius yelled in quick succession, each accompanied by a kick to the monster. The two rolled on the ground, Kopius blurting out inaudible words and the skinwalker firmly entwining itself with his lower leg. Somehow Kopius got to his feet and continued to kick the monster with his heel.

“Sparta, you little bastard!” Kopius screamed, managing to complete a sentence for the first time in the battle. He looked like a man trying his best to click his heels in mid-air but failing miserably. He jumped, screamed, and kicked in varying degrees of order and intensity until falling back to the ground. With his legs up in the air, he gave the creature one more kick, and it whooshed. The debris fell directly onto Kopius, leaving him covered in skinwalker death dust.

Afterwards, Kopius had opted to take some healing herbs from Cici rather than induce the ring or another healing potion. The herbs did a good job; they just worked slower than the other two. The bites were a small annoyance by the time this fifth skinwalker had shown up.

Kopius came back to the present when Cici showed him the five pieces of grafeen he had pulled from the dusty remains.

“Now you have six,” Cici said with a big smile.

“How many do you normally get going through here?”

“I’d say anywhere between ten and twenty pieces, depending on my luck.”

“So, we’ve been unlucky thus far?”

Cici made a noncommittal shrug that Kopius took as a “yes.”

“What will six pieces get me?”

“A bed or a hot meal for a night. Get your weapons sharpened or lightly repaired. Things like that.”

“Sounds good. Where are we stopping for the night?” Kopius asked, hopeful that the answer was either “now” or “soon”. Cici looked through the pillars and up at the fading light of the sun.

“Shortly, it shouldn’t be too far now.”