Chapter 5 - I Think We’re In Kansas, Toto

Utter darkness. No light, no sound...nothing. Then falling as he blacked out.

Gabriel awoke face down, his head resting on his right arm. He didn’t open his eyes; just lay there (wherever ‘there’ was) and listened. There was a light breeze in the air. There was the sound of insects, but they sounded far off in the distance... and very odd at that. He could smell the familiar aroma of grass and earth. Hearing no sounds of anyone near him, he opened his eyes: utter blackness.

He had fallen at terminal velocity several times, and although he would be stiff the next few hours, he’d be fine.

‘Grass,’ he thought to himself as he ran his left hand over the thick mat, ‘I’m not in the maze anymore! In fact, I’m’

“Awake,” he said aloud, just to hear himself. He was pleased to hear no echo.

“I’m awake!” he yelled. And while the sounds of the insects fell silent, he heard nothing else...no echo at all.

He stood up, and flexed his massive wings. He ran his hand along his forearm where the gash of the man’s belt had scorched him. There was no scar. He hadn’t felt this good in months.

“I’m awake, damn it!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs, and collapsed to his knees.

The drain of the dimensional teleport had left him weak, and the adrenalin rush of the nightmare relief was not enough to overcome it. He knelt on his hands and knees and chuckled.

“Gabe,” he said to himself, “You’re gunna be okay.”

Rolling over, Gabriel sat down; crossing his wings in an ‘X’ pattern across his back. It would be at least six hours before he could consider teleporting back home. He simply sat there quietly, enjoying the breeze on his face, the sounds of the insects as they resumed their calls, and relishing the tranquility of the darkness.

Kek felt an almost imperceptible rumble run up through his feet. ‘A tunneler. At least I’ll have some entertainment tonight.’

Looking out across the vast expanse of fields outside the wall, he saw no movement. It would be morning soon, and most of the torches that kept the field illuminated were dieing out. He descended the nearest ladder and took a position directly under the walkway he had been standing on. A moment later, he felt the rumble again.

‘Already inside the city, are you?’ he thought to himself, ‘Hoping for an early meal?’

Kek first took a few steps to the right, then faced left and waited. After a small pause, he felt his target move.

‘A young one. Almost not worth the trouble.’

Grabbing his pike, he walked about twenty-five spears along the city wall, then waited.

The rumble was strong this time, coming only a spears-length to his left.

Unscrewing the massive blade off the end of his pike, Kek moved about two spears ahead of his target and thrust the point of his pike into the ground. Twisting it in a circular fashion, he soon drilled a hole in the earth almost a spear down. Standing over the hole, he urinated in it, knowing the scent would attract the beast.

He didn’t have to wait long. As his prey tunneled under the hole, it caught the scent, and furiously worked it way upwards. Kek sighed, ‘This is just too easy. I should wake the children and let them play with it.’

The rumbling increased exponentially. Kek took a step back in shock. ‘There must be more than one of them! Excellent.’ He reached down and reattached the blade to his pike.

The first one broke the surface, and suddenly Kek realized his mistake. There weren’t two of them, there was one big one! It was easily a spear’s-width in diameter. Kek could feel it’s breathing as it tried to orient on his scent.

Kek spat a wad of musk into the creature open maw. “I’m right here.” he said.

The creature lurched forward, it’s mouth opening to cover as much space as possible. Kek kicked forward and to the left, rolling himself into a tuck and passing by the creature. Untucking after three rolls, he stood up and spun the massive blade of his pike around to imbed itself into the fleshy back of the creature. The creature reared it’s massive maw skywards, and Kek took the opportunity to ram the pike completely though his trophy. ‘Now you’re stuck.’ he thought. Indeed, the creature tried to move back down the hole it had created, but the ends of the pike sticking out either side of the giant worm made it impossible to back into its hole.

Kek sprinted back to the wall and grabbed another pike. Three other guards had heard the commotion and were cheering him on from the walkway on top of the wall. As the worm flailed around, trying to find its attacker, Kek circled around its massive head until he spotted the large, rough oval just behind the lips. His second pike found its mark, and the worm instantly fell dead.

There was a round of clicks from the other guards as Kek looked up for the proper tribute. He knew they would cheer him properly; not because he outranked them, but simply for the entertainment of the night. An elder, who’s dwelling had been closest to the incident, came up to Kek and clicked her admiration.

“Wake my mate,” he said to the elder, finding her tribute worthless, “Tell her I want this kill stripped and ready for feast before sunrise.”

Kek walked back to the ladder and climbed up to resume his post. Though his kill was only a mere seconds worth of entertainment, the carcass would provide a proper meal for tonight’s wedding. And once the king’s first daughter was mated, Kek was in proper succession to marry the king’s second. Of course, he would have to kill his current mate, but that was merely a triviance. The great fate was gazing down on him for sure.

Gabriel awoke with a start. He hadn’t planned to fall asleep, just rest until he had enough strength to go home. He became cheerfully aware that he had slept soundly; having dozed off in a sitting position.

‘No nightmares.’

It was morning. He had landed in a field of grass that stretched from horizon to horizon across rolling hills. The sky was heavily overcast, and he could see the clouds moving at a brisk pace.

Something tickled his left wing. Lifting it up, he found a large beetle clinging to his feathers. Its entire body was a greenish tan which matched the color of the grass exactly. It had six legs and two scorpion-like claws on two massive forearms. The beetle hesitated when Gabriel moved his wings, but resumed its movements when he sat still. Taking a single feather between a claw, it stroked it repeatedly as it moved towards the tip. When it reached the end, it wiped it claw across its head, nibbling off anything it found. Then it moved to the next feather and repeated the process.

“I must look pretty rough to have the local bugs groom me.”

Picking the beetle up off his wing, he set it on a stalk of grass, where after a moments pause, resumed its grooming duties on the grass itself. When it was about half way up a thick blade of grass, it neatly sliced the blade in two with its claw, and paused to consume the droplet of sap that formed.

‘Grassbuggious-BigassClawus,’ thought Gabriel as he watched the insect, ‘wouldn’t the folks back home like to get a look at you.’

Checking to make sure there weren’t any other critters on his person, he spread his wings and took to the skies.

“Kek did what?” demanded first princess Hunn.

“Brought your father a tunneler, freshly stripped and enough to feed the entire city!” beamed the chambermaid.

But first princess Hunn did not seem to be pleased with the news. In fact, it infuriated her. “I will not have tunneler served at my mating ceremony like some commoner!” she fumed, “If I’m going to be my fathers tribute to that disgusting dignitary Wikki, then the least I deserve is a proper feast!”

The chambermaid hunched over, nearly tucking herself completely. She, like everyone else in the city, knew that this marriage was simply an arrangement to settle a dispute between Hunn’s father and king Derit. Derit’s third son, prince Wikki, had been chosen by lottery to mate. Hunn, being the eldest daughter of the king, could only agree.

“What would m’lady deem as a worthy feast of the occasion?”

Hunn had already thought out the answer several days earlier, but went to the window and peered out at the courtyard for several moments; as if lost in thought.

“You know of the two slaves that are in my dowry?” she asked the chambermaid.

“Yes m’lady.”

“Have them brought to the courtyard. I have need of them.”

“Yes m’lady,” replied the chambermaid, as she skittered off across the floor on her belly.

Gabriel leveled off at what he guessed to be roughly ten thousand feet, just below the cloud cover. The winds at this level picked up considerably; better than one hundred miles an hour. The land below offered few references; an occasional clump of trees or a small lake was all that he could see. He flew in no particular pattern, or direction, or speed; just simply killing time until he was revived enough to make the jump back to his home dimension. But did he want to go home?

‘She said her name was ‘Tracy’, and she was with Fire and Ice. Do they know a telepath? Is she part of their team? Was she even real? And what about her father showing up in there?’

The more he thought about it, the more it confused him. ‘If she was with Fire and Ice, that would explain their ability to eliminate the west-coast drug cartels so easily.’

‘And why was everyone attacking me in the med-lab? Was that real? Is this real? How can I prove it? Am I still unconscious in the med-lab? Am I still unconscious in France? Am I even unconscious?? Damn it! I hate telepaths!!’

Gabriel activated his tracking signal. Actually, he tried to activate his tracking signal, but found that his watch was missing.

“Lovely,” he said aloud, “I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.”

Vividly envisioning the airspace above The Complex, he concentrated; and in a flash of light, he teleported.

First princess Hunn waited impatiently for her chambermaid to return with the two slaves. ‘I believe they’re mates,’ her father had said, ‘I have seen the larger one shield the other from a whip on more than one occasion. And though we’ve never had slaves breed, I think that once these two are segregated from the others, they will have no choice.’

“Oh, they won’t have a choice, father,” Hunn muttered, disgusted by the thought of the slaves breeding.

The chambermaid (which was all she was known by; her social status not allowing her to have a name) brought the two slaves into the courtyard. They were huge beasts; the smaller slave easily being five times Hunns size, and the larger maybe eight to ten. She signaled, and they both knelt onto the cobblestones.

‘Stupid vermin,’ Hunn thought to herself, ‘They can’t even be taught to fight. There’s simply no sport in them.’

In one fluid motion, Hunn unsheathed her sword and decapitated the smaller slave. It didn’t even have time to know what hit it. The larger slave bellowed in protest, and tried to rise to its hooves. The chambermaid rushed the beast, grabbing its massive foreleg before it could settle any weight on it. It jumped onto its hind legs and spun around, trying to free its leg from the grip the chambermaid had on it. Hunn, seeing that the beast was going to spin around in a circle, stepped forward and held her sword at the ready; the beast would simply walk into her path.

As the beast wobbled on three legs, the chambermaid tried to force it back onto the ground by wrapping her legs around the one remaining front leg it was using for support. However, the beast was flailing wildly, trying to remain upright. There was a sharp crack as the massive hoof came down on one of the chambermaid’s legs, snapping it off.

The chambermaid hissed in agony, and lost her grip on the one leg of the beast. Realizing what it had done, the beast jumped back in shock. This time, there was another crunching sound, only louder. Spinning about, the beast turned to find the princess Hunn; her underbelly crushed by the full weight of the beast. Thick yellow fluid oozed from the fatal wound, and her arms and legs twitched in death spasms. Before there was even time to react, the courtyard was flooded by palace guards.

‘Huh??’

The view was exactly the same.

‘I didn’t jump! I’m still here.’

Just to make sure, he landed in a field below. Looking around the grass he quickly found another one of the beetles he had seen before.

‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this.’ he thought to himself. He had never missed a jump directly home.

Again, he took to the sky, hoping to figure out what when wrong while he waited for another opportunity to go home.

“The first princess is what!?” roared prince Wikki.

“Dead, your highness,” replied his valet, who was tucked completely into his shell.

“Oh stand up,” said the prince, exasperated, “You can at least act like you have a name for once.”

The valet uncurled his body and stood on his hind legs. He still remained respectfully hunched over, something the prince was mindful of. Although this valet had served him exceeding well, he didn’t want him to think he could be socially equal. “How was she killed?”

“One of the slaved crushed her, your highness. Rumor had it that the first princess sacrificed its mate, and it crushed her in revenge.”

“How tragic,” said the prince in mock pity, “Now I will have to marry the second princess Quee. Tell the king that I fully expect the wedding to commence at sunset. He can grieve his daughter's death tomorrow.”

“Yes, m’lord.” And the valet skittered out of the room on his belly.

The king sat unmoving on his mat. His concubines were putting the final touches on his carapace; the plates on his back shining like they were forged from solid iron. The loss of his first daughter was tragic indeed. Not that he would greave for her; she had been an ungrateful whiny bitch in this life. It was his second daughter Quee he didn’t want to lose. Her deviousness and cunning almost exceeded his own.... almost. She deserved much better than that boring waste of entrails: Wikki.

There was a scratch at the door.

“Enter.” the king commanded, already sure of whom it was and why he was coming.

Price Wikki’s valet entered on his belly and approached within the allowed distance. “My lord wishes to inform you that the wedding will continue with his taking of second princess Quee at sunset.” As an added precaution, the valet tucked his arms and legs under his carapace.

“Yes,” said the king slowly, “I suspected he would.”

The king rose to his feet; his concubines scurrying away to avoid being crushed by his massive body. He only took two steps to reach the valet, who had now snapped himself into a tight ball. It was a useless gesture; the king could crush the valet between two plates of his bony armor and think nothing of it. However, it was not his intention to do so. This valet was going to be his witness for this evening’s execution.

“Tell the prince,” started the king, his breath laden with musk, “that the wedding will proceed as planned. However, the dowry of the second princess will be without the two slaves. We shall feast of the one tonight, and use the other as entertainment. That is all.” And with a flick of his wrist, he sent the valet rolling out of the royal chamber. Turning towards one of his concubines, he said, “Bring our second daughter before me.”

“Yes, my king.”

‘Finally, something besides grass.’

Gabriel had traveled nearly seven hundred miles in the last hour. He had climbed through the hurricane force winds in the blanket of clouds and found that it was late afternoon (guessing by the position of the sun). Now, he was flying over patches of forest that were growing larger as he moved farther in the direction he was flying. During the flight, he mulled his situation over, and had come up with a new theory. Maybe, just maybe, he had tried to teleport into a solid object; and his teleportation ability simply wouldn’t let him. Since he had been well under ten thousand feet when he tried, it was entirely possible that he had attempted to teleport into the Colorado Rocky Mountains. The thought, although a bit far fetched, did seem the only plausible reason he hadn’t made it home.

“You summoned me, my king?” Quee said.

“Leave us.” the king commanded to the others in the room. His guards, valets, and concubines quickly and orderly left the chamber. Once they were alone, the king motioned for his daughter for step forth. She complied instantly.

Pulling a dagger from under his carapace, he clutched it between his mandibles and pointed it directly at his daughter. Rising up, she took the pointed tip into her own. The king had only to slightly vibrate the dagger, and his daughter would hear.

<I want you to look happy at the wedding this evening.> he transmitted through the dagger.

<As you command, my king,> she replied, <But I am far from pleased by the days events.>

<As am I. But the day is still long, and much can be accomplished before the morning arrives.>

<You have a requirement of me?>

<Only that you take of the days events like it was the happiest day of your life. By the time morning comes, I’m sure that joy will be well founded. No go. Prepare yourself. I have many chores before the feast can commence.>

“By your leave.” she said aloud, dropping the point of the dagger. Quee quickly left the room.

“Merek.” the king said quietly, letting the dagger slip from his mandibles and catching it with his foreclaw.

“Yes, my king?” said the concubine, entering the room.

The king shoved the dagger back under his carapace, making a sharp ‘click’ as it struck something else metal. The glance he gave her was enough for her to know that she had been too close to the conversation he had had with their daughter. “Merek, you of all my breeders have favored me with the best young. And for that, I will always think of you first in my blessings. But understand this: There is much to do before this day is over, and I don’t want you altering this evenings plans in any way. Is that understood?”

“Yes, my king.” she said, thankful to still be alive.

“Very good. Our daughter will be wed to prince Wikki, as promised to his father... as promised to me.”

“Yes, my king.”

“Now go. Take your sisters and make our daughter ready for this occasion.”

“By your leave.”

The king turned his attention to the front doors. “Guards.”

The doors bolted open and three guards saluted.

“Fetch me Kek.” he commanded.

“Yes, my king.” they replied in unison.

Gabriel had landed in a patch of woods that bordered a large expanse of plains. He had noticed it because of a large chunk of flat granite only a few yards away from the edge of the forest. Finding firewood plentiful, he stacked large logs atop each other log-cabin style. Inside the structure he dumped branches, twigs, chunks of wood... anything that would burn. This fire was going to have to burn only a short time. He was planning to do some flying in the inky blackness of night, and needed a good reference point that he could see for miles. As he wondered around the woods, he came across several trees bearing what looked to be pods of fruit. He picked one and took it back to the granite along with the last load of kindling.

Managing to get the fire started in a relatively short amount of time, Gabriel turned his attention to the fruit. It looked like an oversized avocado. He snapped the neck off the fruit and smelled it. It smelled like wood. He gently pressed his tongue to the white interior. It tasted like wood. He chucked it into the fire.

‘I better get home soon. The food here is awful.’

The slave master sat and listened to the festivities going on near the palace. “Some wedding.” he said aloud to nobody within earshot who could understand him, “I just hope the mate remembers to bring me home some scraps.”

He lumbered past the empty stall where the slave who was being served at the wedding once bedded. “You know,” he said to the slave in the next stall, “It never crossed my mind to eat one of you. I guess after a while those ugly faces of yours grow on a person.”

The slaves just huddled closer to the far walls of their stalls, their shackles clanking against the old wooden boards. As he made his way around to the other side of the slave quarters, he passed by the only other empty stall. “Now he... um... I think it was a he... will be missed. He was a strong one. A hard worker.”

As he made his way to the last stall, he could see that the dead one was not on its legs, but was lying down in its stall. Very unusual for a slave. “Now what’s wrong with you, dead one?”

The ‘dead one’ was an enigma to the slave master. It looked like it had been partially slaughtered and then left out in the sun to dry for several days. However, he had found out several days after it had been captured that the wounds were some kind of trickery... that the hide of the slave was whole if you ran your claw along it’s back. The decomposition had never changed, even after all these years. The slave master found it amusing that the dead one still kept trying to look dead.

The sounds coming from the dead one were odd, like it was having trouble breathing. It’s body shook slightly as it tried to exhale, then took a long gasp of air and did it again.

“Guess they should have eaten you then,” said the salve master, “At least the other slave was healthy.”

The fire roared with life. The gaps between the large logs allowing plenty of air in to feed rest of the wood. He had built it to last only a short while... its mission was to produce light, not to last all night. In fact, he was hoping to be long gone before the fire died out. Taking to the air, he rose straight up, the fire becoming a candle, then a point of light as he rose. As the upper winds buffeted him, he knew he was near the cloud layer.

‘Angels 10, and I can see it perfectly.’

He began to fly in a circular pattern, making the loop wider and wider as he went. In a short time, the fire was nothing more than a spec of light on the horizon. He had no real clue as to how far away he was from the fire. Fifteen miles? Thirty miles?

He noticed, almost beyond the horizon, a dim glow in the clouds. Could it be another fire? If so, it would have to have been huge to produce such a glow against the cloud cover. If he investigated, he would lose his reference to the fire, and if it turned out to be nothing, he would be flying in total darkness. He took the chance, and headed towards the dim glow.

Kek seethed with anger as he watched Wikki take public liberties with Quee. And Quee seemed to be enjoying it. The king obviously sensed Kek’s anger, and a tertiary glace was enough to keep him in check. Still, the moment had finally arrived... and none to soon for him.

“People!” hissed the king. The joyous crowd respectfully fell silent.

“Today we celebrate the joyous union of my second daughter Quee to prince Wikki; third eldest son of king Derit.”

The crowd clicked in tribute, and the prince, the princess, and king all showed their approval.

“This union,” said the king after the tribute had quieted “fulfills the promise between our city-state and that of king Derit; that neither shall inflict war upon the other.”

Again there was tribute, and again the king waited for it to die down.

“Tonight, we have arranged a unique entertainment like none that has been seen in many years. A hunting!”

The crowd gasped in surprise, then roared with their tribute.

“A hunt?” asked Wikki to his new mate, “I didn’t think there was anything left in your kingdom worth hunting.”

“You’re in for a big surprise.” she said, getting up and leading him from the wedding-mat.

The wedding party adjourned to private quarters, where their chambermaids or valets outfitted them with traditional armor, weapons, shield, and totems. Wikki was genuinely surprised. He hadn’t expected this kind of fun.

The party regrouped at the main gates of the city, which were always closed at night.

“Several guards scattered the blood and entrails of the slave we killed today around the front fields,” explained Kek to the hunting party, “Since we also know where their brood is, we left a trail for them to follow. They should be here very soon.”

“How many do you expect?” asked Wikki confidently.

“Several hundred,” replied Kek, “We know their numbers have swelled in the past few years, and we’re expecting several tunnelers.”

“Several hundred?” Wikki repeated as he walked into the field.

“Yes,” said Quee, adjusting her armor and finding the center of balance to her spear, “They will be after that.”

She pointed to an area to the group's right. There, strapped between two large poles, was the slave that had killed first princess Hunn. It had been whipped severely, and doused with the last remains of the other slave.

Several other workers rushed onto the field, planting racks of spears and pikes in several areas to allow the hunting party easy access. It was not unusual to break a spear or two while hunting, and this was going to be a hunt to be engraved in stone!

Along the walkway of the wall facing the fields, several hundred guests had gathered to watch the new mates and their assistants indulge in a hunt they could only dream about. All the while attendants ran to all areas of the field, stoking and lighting torches to keep the entire area lit.

“I didn’t think they would come out with this much light.” said Wikki.

“They only come out at night.” said Kek, making sure the blade on his pike was secure, “I don’t think they can even see. I’ve never found eyes on them.”

Kek and Quee chuckled, but Wikki was unamused. It wasn’t that he was afraid of the worms. In fact, the thought of the hunt was overwhelming his senses. He would be ready. His thoughts were on his new mate Quee. Would a princess know how to handle so many beasts?

“They’re coming.” said Kek, feeling the vibrations in his legs. The others felt it too.

“Spread out,” said Quee to the other two, “I need room to fight.”

“What about behind us?” asked Wikki, looking back in the direction of the slave.

“They always come from this direction.” Quee indicated with her spear, “That’s why we’re between them and the bait.”

“Then what, by the great fate, is that?” Wikki yelled as he pointed to the slave.

As Gabriel flew closer, the orange glow brightened. Not simply because of his getting nearer; the source of the light was getting brighter. He began to see tiny dots of light on the ground.

‘People? A village?’

He didn’t worry about being spotted at this height. In fact, he descended to a much lower altitude to get a better look. Soon he could make out a large wooden fortress. Outside the fortress was a large field with torches illuminating several acres. He could barely make out six or eight figures standing in the field, and there seemed to be a large population of people standing at the top of the fortress wall. A large horse was hitched to two posts near the doors of the fortress. However, the shadows were obscuring good details. Was there a rider on the horse or...

It was a centaur. A real, live(?) honest-to-goodness, right-out-of-Greek-mythology centaur.

Local customs be damned. He had to see this.

Descending to about five hundred feet, he circled the field. It was impossible to guess the size of the centaur, but from this angle, it looked huge. Suddenly, a loud surge of clicking sounds came from the people on the wall. Gabriel couldn’t make out any details of the crowd... their backs were covered with oddly shaped coverings; like the entire group was wearing huge shields.

The few on the field were all facing away from the centaur with some wicked looking weapons drawn. There was also a cache of weapons on racks in several locations around the field. The centaur, standing between two large polls, didn’t move. It looked to Gabriel that he was holding the polls up with his hands. Obviously the people with the weapons didn’t consider him a threat.

‘What are they looking at?’

Gabriel regretted asking the question the moment it formed in his mind.

Dune worms. And this time, there were thousands of them.

“Son of a bitch!” he yelled aloud. ‘I’m still in the nightmare. No wonder I can’t teleport!’

But now he was confused. He wasn’t stuck in some seven-foot-tall maze, and could stay aloft for hours, even days if he had to. He was also in top health and not tired at all (just a bit hungry). And if nothing else, he could close the doors to the fort and probably be safe in there. So what was the point of the nightmare?

As he flew down to the centaur, he realized that its arms and forelegs were bound to the posts. And this centaur was huge; easily half a foot taller than Gabriel. He was blindfolded, covered in blood, and looked like he had been starved to death. Gabriel knew there was some kind of symbolism to all this. In dreams, there was always lots of symbolism. But whos? His? To make matters worse, the centaur actually looked familiar. Gabriel had met only a handful of centaurs in all his travels to other dimensions, and none of them were this large. It was like the body of a Clydesdale draft horse had been attached to a giant.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have you out of here in a few seconds.” he said.

The centaur’s expression turned to bewilderment. “Whan thew?” he said.

Gabriel lifted the blindfold off the centaur. Two large brown eyes looked down at him in stark amazement.

The feeling of familiarity grew ten fold. ‘How the hell do I know this guy?’ Gabriel asked himself. The centaur looked Gabriel up and down with a look of utter incomprehension.

“Yeah yeah,” said Gabriel, grabbing the ropes that bound the centaurs left leg and snapping them free, “You’re a giant centaur, and I’m an archangel. Ain’t we a pair.”

The centaurs jaw dropped when he saw Gabriel rip the thick ropes like straw.

“Tak!” yelled the centaur so loud it made Gabriel jump, “Tak! Tak!!”

Gabriel looked in the direction the centaur was nodding his head towards in time to see the spear coming right for him. It seemed that several members of the hunting party had lost interest in the dune worms and was coming after him. Gabriel simply caught the spear in mid-air, then dropped it to the ground.

The knot holding the centaur’s right leg had to be untied. It had been intertwined around his leg so much that pulling on it would have broken his leg.

“Tak!” yelled the centaur again.

It didn’t take long for Gabriel to figure out that ‘Tak!’ meant ‘Incoming!’

One of the hunting party was advancing on him, while the remainder of the group was heading back into the fort. The one advancing threw another spear with deadly accuracy; to which Gabriel simply sidestepped. The lone hunter looked around for another spear, and seeing that he had been deserted, began running for the gates.

Gabriel finally got the other leg untied, and pulled on the ropes that bound the centaur’s hands. The hissing sound of the dune worms was getting closer. Both he and the centaur exchanged knowing glances; this was going to be close.

Not having time to untie his hands, Gabriel grabbed the rope holding his left arm and pulled. The rope stretched, creaked, and then snapped. The centaur frantically tried to untie his remaining restraint, but Gabriel simply repeated his process with the other rope. The centaur was now free.

They both looked towards the fort doors only to see them closed; the remaining hunter frantically banging on them. Most of the dune worms ignored him and kept their squirming pace directly towards Gabriel and the centaur. They all seemed to be coming from the same direction, so Gabriel pointed the other way into the darkness.

“Run!” yelled Gabriel as he interposed himself between the worms and the centaur, “Run!!”

The lone hunter had taken out two dune worms by himself, and was bolting towards the nearest cache of weapons.

Looking back to see if the centaur had made it into the darkness, Gabriel discovered that the huge man hadn’t moved. He simply stood there... seemingly frozen in time. Gabriel didn’t have time to press the issue; he simply leapt at the lead worm and sliced it in half with his wing. The two halves of the worm lay limp on the ground. They didn’t re-join... they didn’t grow into two new worms... they just stayed dead. Gabriel was almost thrilled by this revelation.

“Come on, you little bastards.” he growled at the oncoming swarm, “It’s payback time.”

He sliced them in two, and they died. He grabbed spears and impaled two or three on the same spear, and they died. He back-fisted, punched, kicked, round-housed, ripped, snapped, and crushed them... and they died. It was a bloodbath. It was no contest. The centaur simply stood there trembling, while Gabriel cut loose with all the frustration he had pent up from the non-stop nightmare. He screamed... he yelled... he impaled the smaller worms to the walls of the fort with spears. He crushed them in his hands and watched the blood run between his fingers. The rage that had overtaken became insatiable; it was like he was killing a little piece of the telepath with every worm he struck down. He didn’t just want them to die, he wanted to feel them die.

Thirty minutes later and the last of the dune worms lay dead at his feet. The centaur hadn’t moved an inch the entire time. Gabriel was both angered and relieved that the centaur hadn’t run. Since the dune worms initially had wanted him, it was easy to stay in relatively one place and take them out.

The single hunter had survived as well. He had collected two or three spears and began heading towards the centaur. He uttered a series of clicks and squeals up to the people who had been watching the massacre, and a roar of clicking noises reverberated from the walls. Lifting a spear over his head, he threw it with unerring accuracy directly at the centaur.

“No!” shouted Gabriel, deflecting the spear with a wing.

The hunter dropped his second spear, and held the last one at the ready. Slowly he advanced on Gabriel.

As the two opponents neared each other, Gabriel finally saw the face of his adversary... well... whatever you call the part where the eyes connected to the rest of the body.

It looked almost like a large bipedal insect. Actually, it had six legs, but it was using only two for locomotion. Two of the “arms” (which looked exactly like the legs) were gripping the spear, while a third held a shield and the last carried a dagger. Its eyes were on two thick jointed stalks set on opposite sides of its very small head. The head had two wicked-looking mandibles about the size of Gabriel’s hand facing straight down.

“Damn, you’re an ugly mother.”

The creature lunged with its spear. Gabriel grabbed the end with his right hand and kicked the two legs out from under it. There was a sharp ‘snap!’ as the end of the spear broke off and the huge insect fell onto its side. Then creature rolled into a ball, neatly tucking its head under the curved end of its other end. The oval shield was pressed next to its body in the center. With the rough segments now protruding outwards, making two rows of crude spikes, the thing now looked like a monster-truck tire; complete with hubcap.

Gabriel simply couldn’t resist the comparison. He grabbed the bug and sent it rolling across the field; its deep tread creating a swath in the blood soaked grass.

Turning his attention to the spectators on the wall, he saw that they had become eerily silent. He looked up at them, and their bizarre unblinking eyestalks stared back in silence. None of them moved. He walked back over to the statuesque centaur.

The look on the centaur was blank and unfocused. Gabriel waved his hand in front of the mans face, but his large brown eyes didn’t even blink in reflex. The overwhelming feeling of déjà vu returned with renewed force.

‘Why do you look so... familiar? What part of this nightmare do you fit into?’

Gabriel looked down where the giant’s human torso joined the Clydesdale body of the horse. There was a distinct line... a kind of meridian, where the human skin ended and the coat of the horse began, but the muscles and shape underneath were continuous. Looking down even further, the centaur’s feathers were soaked in blood, clinging to his legs and hooves. And those hooves were huge! Easily a foot in width... probably more.

“Come on. Lets get out of here,” he said, taking the centaur gently by the arm.

The centaur didn’t budge. He tried harder. Still nothing. Grabbing him by the wrist, Gabriel pulled his arm with a force that would have moved a car. But still the centaur stood firm.

A slight movement in his peripheral vision took Gabriel by surprise. There was a sickening hollow thud as a spear impaled the centaurs equine chest. For his part, the centaur barely seemed to notice. He simply wavered for a second, then fell to his side. A roar of clicking and the pounding of hundreds of spears against the walkway came from the top of the wall.

“You bastards.”

Gabriel was stunned. This nightmare was so unlike the others. He had beaten the dune-worms. He had beaten the insect warrior. He had saved the centaur. He had won.

“You unholy bastards.”

The next second, the centaur was dead, and the crowds thought it was great. The significance of the whole dream seemed stupid. He didn’t have a scratch on him. He had never felt more alive when the last dune-worm had been killed.

“I’m going to kill you.”

Why was the death of the centaur so... infuriating?

‘Because that’s what they wanted.’ he answered himself, ‘They... no... he wanted to see me fail.’

Well if that telepath was going to drive him insane, Gabriel was going to take him down with him.

“I’m going to kill you all.”