Into the dark
Runt was forced to run to keep pace with the gorgons as they returned to the tunnel. The teacher guessed correctly. The harpies, hidden in the trunk of the fey-tree, were on their way to meet the big boss. The gorgons cheered the same phrase over and over as the fey-tree fell. Runt realised they were yelling “Last one! Last one!” Soon after, the gorgons began dismantling the tree and carrying it back between them.
Runt barely kept up with the horde as he followed behind. Tracking them was easy enough. The scrub was blasted, bashed, and flattened in a trail several yards wide. The problem was, there was no way past the entrance if he got there too late and found it sealed shut. So he ran and ran until his ears sang and his vision blurred. Ahead, he saw the scrub open up into the quarry, and the tunnel entrance beyond. As he jogged across the wasteland he heard more crashes behind him. Runt didn’t need to look around to know another group of gorgons were emerging from the scrub. The entrance would stay open, then.
The gorgons slowed as they reached the mouth of the tunnel. Runt closed the gap to them and began matching their pace. Then, they were in. The rock surrounded them and the dark of night turned a shade darker. The noises of grunting and swearing from behind grew louder and Runt realised, with more than a little dread, that he was now the meat in a gorgon sandwich. They jogged on for what felt an eternity. The only light came from the sickly yellow glow of the gorgons’ eyes. This feeble glimmer gave enough light to stop Runt running into the back of the closest gorgons, and no more.
Further behind came the noise of scraping rock. It was the unmistakeable sound of the tunnel entrance closing. He was trapped. There really was no going back, now.
Runt’s breath came in short gasps and his heart felt close to bursting. He looked desperately for a side alley or an alcove to duck down and rest but the tunnel walls were smooth and only just wide enough for the gorgons. He was forced to push on. Then, as they rounded the corner, Runt gasped again, this time out of shock. He skidded to a stop and turned to run back but was immediately blocked by the next group of gorgons appearing. They barrelled forwards and Runt, after stepping back reluctantly, turned and ran out of the tunnel and into the enormous chamber beyond.
Runt immediately felt the coolness evaporate as he entered the chamber. He was exposed. The invisibility only worked in the dark of night and he was suddenly, and astonishingly, thrust into bright light. The entire chamber glowed with the oranges and reds of sunset. No sun shone here, though, in this deep cavern of stone. Instead, the light emanated from down below.
Runt continued to jog along between the gorgons knowing he would inevitably be spotted. The horde ran along a ledge only a few yards wide. Peering over the edge Runt saw the source of light. A giant lake of brightly glowing lava filled the base of this bowl-shaped chamber. Ledges and tracks wound up around the lake. He only had a few seconds to take in the image. Like an ant’s nest, there were gorgons far below, tiny from this distance, moving in lines up the tracks and across ledges all around the vast cavern.
Runt briefly considered hiding. He could jump down the ledge and cling to the side until these gorgons passed. Once it was safe he could dash back into the darkness and the safety of his invisibility. Up ahead the gorgons swore. One of them stumbled causing the tree trunk to crash into the wall. They paused for a second to regain their grips before moving on.
“Patch is in there,” Runt thought grimly, “and the teacher, and plenty of other harpies, too. I’ve got to go on.”
A small branch covered in leaves lay on the ground where the tree struck the wall. Runt grabbed it as he ran after the others. As far as plans went, it was not even half made, and not any good at all. But it was better than nothing. He held the branch over his head as a makeshift disguise and kept running.
The ledge widened into a large platform up ahead. The gorgons were stacking the logs into a crude pile. Runt gulped. There were gorgons everywhere, heaving logs, cutting branches, swearing, growling, and pushing. The log containing the harpies was roughly thrown up onto the pile. Runt saw a decent puddle of shadow on the far side of the stack, and he raced over to it. He collapsed on the ground, covered in sweat, gasping for breath, and allowed the coolness to wash over him once again. For the moment, he was safe from being spotted.
The gorgons continued to stream in with their wooden cargo. Once or twice Runt was forced to leap out the way of a log crashing down or dodge a gorgon’s hairy leg stomping through the shadows. The harpy’s fey-tree was stacked near the top of the pile but, with every log heaved on, he worried they would be buried underneath.
Runt’s head swam as he struggled to regain his breath. The air was thick with the stench of the volcanic lake and a dank haze filled the chamber like an orange fog. The smell was a mixture of burning matches and rotten eggs. It stung his eyes till they watered and scorched his throat till his breath wheezed. The gorgons were not immune to the foul-smelling smoke, it seemed. They coughed, and spat, and their eyes watered, but they continued working just the same.
Stifling his coughs as best he could, Runt looked around the chamber in awe. The opposite side of the cavern was so distant that the gorgons there were no more than specks of fluff. Much like the cave of remembering, there were stalactites studded across the ceiling of this chamber. Other parts of the ceiling, though, were bare and roughly cut. It was clear that the gorgons had hollowed the original chamber out to make it much larger. The tracks and ledges around the rim of the lake branched into side tunnels and alcoves but they were too far off for Runt to see where they led, or for what purpose.
There were none of the glowing yellow fungi like in the other cave. The only light came from the lava, or from braziers filled with burning coal. The entire chamber echoed with the gravel-on-tin rasps of the gorgons yelling, swearing, and sometimes even singing. Rocks crashed, feet stomped, and timber groaned. Through all this din Runt heard a gorgon nearby shout out to the others.
“This suck!” The gorgon spat, and threw down the log it was dragging across the platform. The gorgons nearby paused, and turned to look.
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“Work in day. Work in night. No booze. For what? Why do this?”
Several more gorgons stopped working and gathered around the speaker. The disgruntled gorgon was larger than the others standing nearby, more muscular, and nearly half a head taller.
“Bruiser! Big boss got plan. We do plan. No argue!” This came from a gorgon nearby. The larger gorgon, Bruiser, turned and yelled into the second speaker’s face.
“Gutso! I got plan, too! My plan, no more work! Booze time! Who agree?”
Several gorgons muttered and nodded. The second speaker, Gutso, shook their head.
“Big boss not like. Big boss bring pain. We do plan. Big boss – “
Gutso’s speech was cut off by a punch to the head. The other gorgons formed a circle around the two and the fight began. They were unevenly matched. Bruiser lived up to its name and, soon enough, Gutso was laid out on the floor, groaning. The gorgons in the circle laughed, cheered, and clapped.
A new group of gorgons marched around the corner and the crowd immediately fell silent. Each of these gorgons were larger again. The whole pack of them loomed over the crowd. The gorgons who, only moments before, were cheering and clapping, began shuffling back and behind each other, or slunk off to the wood pile trying to look busy.
One of the gorgons near the front of this new group yelled out. “Bruiser! Not fight time! Work time! You explain now!”
“This suck!” Bruiser yelled back. “Work in day! Work in night! No fun! Big boss plan suck!”
“Tell to big boss, then!” The gorgon retorted, and the group split apart. In the middle, slowly walking forward, Runt saw an absolute giant of a gorgon. It must have stood two heads taller than any he’d seen. Or, at least, it would have, but this gorgon walked slowly, bent over with a hunched spine, and used a thick branch as a walking stick. Unlike the greys, oranges, browns, and blacks of the other gorgons, this one’s fur was completely white.
Bruiser’s eyes widened in fear, but Runt saw the gorgon clench its jaw, puff out its chest, and point its finger towards the big boss.
“This suck! No fun! When booze time?”
The boss spoke. It’s voice was deep and resonant. “Gorgon work now. Booze later.”
“No! This suck! Big boss plan suck! Who agree?” Bruiser turned to the onlookers. A few gorgons muttered in sheepish support.
“Tyrant make plan. Plan good.” The boss replied. “Tyrant say, gorgon work hard now. Later, no more work. Never work hard again!”
“No! No work now! Want booze! Want rest! Want fun! Maybe fight some gorgon.”
“Fight? You want fight?” The boss said. It cast aside the walking stick and straightened up. Now, standing as tall as a man, the boss loomed over every other gorgon around it. Another circle formed, this time around Bruiser and the boss. Bruiser screamed and charged forwards, swinging wildly. The boss simply stood there and allowed the blows to rain down. It sounded just like meat slapping against stone. Once, twice, three times Bruiser slammed its fists into the boss and, on the third blow, the attacking gorgon cried out in pain. The boss never even flinched. Then, in a blur, the boss twisted and raised its arm in an uppercut that sent Bruiser soaring out of the circle. The crowd of gorgons winced at the sound of the blow.
The fight was over. No one clapped. No one cheered. They simply got back to work. Several gorgons went to Bruiser’s aid, lifting the gorgon to a sitting position and propped them against the wall. Then, they also went back to work.
“What? No more?” The big boss yelled. “Fighting done? Who else? Who want more?”
“We will fight you, if you don’t end this madness.” A voice called out from above. Runt looked up and saw the teacher with the other harpies standing along the wood pile. Several of the gorgons growled and formed up behind the boss.
“Harpies, here? Why? This gorgon home. You leave, now!”
The teacher made a small gesture with its hand. Several of the harpies launched themselves at the group, swooping down at them before spreading their wings and soaring up over the gorgons’ heads. They circled back to land by the teacher. Several of the shaggy beasts flinched or threw their hands up before realising they hadn’t been harmed. Meanwhile, one by one, they began to sneeze and rub their eyes.
Runt saw the twinkle of pollen cloud the air around the group of gorgons. It was a splash of vibrant colour in amongst the dull orange smog. He saw the same colours glittering on the hands of those harpies landing on the trunk. When the teacher spoke again, its voice boomed in a tone of command.
“Gorgons! This madness has gone on too long. The Wild lands are hurting. The harpies are hurting. The trees you once called your home are hurting. Please.” The teacher spread out its arms, revealing the large tear in its wing. “Leave this place of darkness and despair. Return to the ancient ways. Return to your nests. Return to the mother trees where we raise our young. Return to us and fulfill the age-old bargain.”
“Yes, there have been times of disagreement before. But harpies and gorgons need each other to co-exist! If one suffers, so does the other. When a harpy cries, a gorgon bleeds. When a gorgon goes hungry, a harpy starves. By herding us towards extinction you, yourselves, are doomed. We come here, now, to beg of you to end the war. To leave this prison and return with us to the Wilds. We will do anything it takes to make peace and restore the ancient balance.”
The boss stood, mouth agape, as the teacher spoke these words. Runt realised, as he watched for their reaction, something about these gorgons inside the pollen cloud was different. The yellow glow had faded from their eyes. The longer they stood there in silence, the more hopeful he became. The teacher’s crazy plan might not have been so crazy after all.
His hopes were dashed in the next moment as, roaring, another group of gorgons scrambled up the wood pile from behind. Runt was knocked aside and winded. Wheezing, he looked up in horror to see the harpies, one by one, grabbed and unceremoniously shoved into brown sacks. It was over in an instant. The gorgons on the pile of wood cheered, slapped each other on the shoulders, and held their wriggling sacks up like trophies.
Runt looked across to the boss. Shaking its head side to side like a dog flicking off water, the giant gorgon seemed to snap out of a trance. Leaning down, it grabbed the walking stick and motioned for the others to follow. When they passed the wriggling sacks the boss paused, pointed down to the belly of the chamber, and grunted “Take harpies to lake. To Fighting place. Tie hands. Tie feet. That way, no magic.”
Runt, winded, shocked, and dismayed by the turn of events, didn’t realise he lay outside the shadows. One of the gorgons knocked him there when it bumped into him. The first clue came when a hairy hand grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and lifted him up.