Wizard of Jatte, Rowan Erlking [latest novels to read .TXT] 📗

both shut to keep out the morning light. However, climbing completely out the hole and swinging his bag onto his brown and slimy covered shoulder, Theissen knew that going down only meant he’d fall right back into the laps of those demon diggers. He headed up.

Making holes for his feet and hands up the rock face, also using the vines to lift him higher to where he could find a ledge to stand on, Theissen climbed and climbed. Already he could hear shouts, but from where he could not tell. He didn’t dare look down at the drop. He was already too high. Once or twice, Theissen made a ledge to sit on and rest. But eventually he had to go on. The cliff top would be the only place he could really stop to assess his options.

Climbing and scraping, he heard more of those demons shout after him. Some sounded close. Reaching up with the help of the vines to steady him, Theissen pulled his chest over the edge first, and then the rest of himself, tossing over a leg and then his knee. Rising to his feet, he turned with a look around at the forest.

Down below, like a sea of green fluttering waves, the forest went for miles. He could see the peaks of the Dondit Mountains to the south, but the sea was now entirely gone from view. Above, the summer breeze blew with a refreshing odor of life. It was so good to be out.

“There you are!”

Theissen whipped around, staggering as he stared at the beady-eyed thing in front of him. More human looking than a gole in the clear light now, it really did look like a giant mole, bristly and snouted thing dressed in moss and tree bark, though this particular one was wearing one of his stolen shirts. It drew out a bent up looking spear.

Automatically retreating from it, Theissen felt the sudden sensation of tipping. There was no floor underneath his foot.

He reached out for a vine, calling to the wind, for anything actually to catch him.

A hand did.

Staring up. Theissen saw a face smiling back at him, the wind he had stirred ruffling its feathers.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: He Seems Like the Determined Type

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Theissen’s first reaction was to let go.

“Hold on! You were about to fall!” The man called out to him, swinging Theissen upward with the wind as well as a gigantic flap of his wings. The curses of a demonic mole thing followed after them for only a few feet before being lost on the air.

“Where are you taking me?” Theissen shouted up, smelling the strangely stale odor with the wind that had lifted them. He could see several knots in this unusually dressed, winged man.

The demon birdman laughed. “I noticed you doing magic! I’m taking you home! The folks would love to meet you!”

“Oh, no, no, no, no! Just set me down on the ground!” Theissen called up, not ready to meet more demons.

But the birdman laughed more as if Theissen’s request was not to be considered.

“You’re a wizard, right?”

Blown it. Theissen wondered if he was ever to lose that reputation. He looked up with some pain. “Would you believe me if I told you I was a carpenter?”

“Are you?” the birdman asked, laughing more.

Theissen almost laughed. He didn’t quite. The wind took too much out of him, and looking down from their enormous height he didn’t want do be dropped in case he actually insulted the thing while doing so.

“My name is Theobold,” the birdman said. “What’s yours?”

Blinking up at him, starting to feel the strain on his arm sockets, Theissen tilted his head and answered, “Theissen Darol Mukumar Carpenterson…of Lumen Village.”

The birdman laughed as if delighted. “Ah! Named after the three holies! I’m impressed! You definitely have to be a wizard now!”

He knew that? Theissen was now the one to be impressed. This demon was not only polite; it was educated, besides saving him from a nasty fall. Despite his distaste for the stale odor this demon gave off, Theissen was beginning to like this birdman. He only hoped this creature wasn’t also a man-eater like that gole, speaking sweet words before lunch.

“Where are you taking me?” Theissen asked again, looking up at the broad white wingspan this man had.

“I already told you! We’re going back to the nest! You have got to meet the folks!”

“But why have I got to—”

They suddenly landed on what felt like wood, the birdman releasing Theissen with a somewhat uncomfortable plop. Theissen staggered, still lightheaded. Someone propped him up while the birdman flapped over to him, grinning with pride.

“Excuse me, but who is this?”

This one had a deep sonorous voice. Theissen looked up. Standing in front of him a few inches taller than he was a man with penetrating eyes dressed in flowing robes that parted where a pair of brown flecked wings came out. His face had a solemn, yet friendly look to it. When he turned his head it looked as if he had been an owl inspecting something curious.

“Oh! Mensin, this is a man I just picked up. A wizard,” Theobold said as he crossed over to the edge of what looked like a reed boat lined with feathers. “A moleman just about pushed him off a cliff, and I caught him.”

“A moleman?” the large brown birdman eyed Theissen again. “Is that why he is so dirty?”

Theobold laughed, gesturing to Theissen with his hand as he shook off the edges to his own marvelously white and blue robe. Underneath, the birdman wore pants and a loose shirt, but even Theissen could see that the shirt had no back, giving ample room for the demon’s pure white wings. “Yes. Friend Theissen. You really ought to take all that muck off. Go on! Use your magic.”

Exposed, watching also the patient believing looks of Mensin, Theissen sighed then felt his clothes. It took only a few seconds to pull off the slime and dirt. He balled it up in his hands and grimaced at it.

“Just throw it over there,” Theobold offered, pointing to a well-crafted pail made of birch bark.

Theissen dropped it in.

“So, a wizard. We haven’t seen one of those in generations,” Mensin said flapping as if truly pleased.

“You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” Theissen asked, taking a step towards the edge to with a look down in case he had to escape again.

Mensin laughed, shaking his head. Their laughter was less mirthful than the molemen’s were but there was a serene quality that Theissen liked, and yet also made him uncomfortable though he didn’t know why. “Of course not. One of our forefathers was a wizard once.”

Theissen sighed with relief. He walked back towards them. “Yes, I…well, the molemen, as you call them, told me that.”

Theobold broke into another laugh. “Did they also tell you it was our fault they are ugly little mole people?”

There was no point in denying it. Theissen stalled for a moment and then nodded. “They did.”

“And what did they want with you?” Mensin asked stepping down from one platform to another. There were stairs. Obviously they liked walking just as much as they liked flying. Perhaps walking made them feel human. “I thought they hated wizards.”

With another shrug, Theissen said, “They wanted me to kill your trees, actually.”

Both birdmen stared at him.

“They are trying that?”

Theissen nodded then looked around the high up platform that practically seemed to be on the top of the forest with trees all around in lumpy green leaves as if they were merely shrubbery. “With fervor, apparently.”

“And you denied them, right?” Theobold slapped Theissen on the back with another laugh of comradery, more comfortable with the heights than the journeyman carpenter was.

“And they locked me up.” Theissen crossed over the landing to stare at the view more roundabout. Other trees, many other trees, were full of these landings at the tops and inside. Bird people flew from one to another visiting it like a village. He looked down over the edge and could not even see the forest floor, the leaves themselves blocking his view.

“Oh.” His voice took on a high pitch. “We are up awfully high.”

Both birdmen laughed. It was not malicious or anything, but they were amused. Falling was not an issue with them. Unfortunately, leaving at-will would be an issue for him.

“Come here,” Theobold urged Theissen with a friendly arm sweep. “I’m sure the elders would love to meet you.”

Theissen glanced back at the ground again.

“Good idea,” Mensin said following them.

“Don’t worry. We won’t let you fall.” Theobold took hold of Theissen’s wrists again, heaving him off the platform.

They flapped only twice, swooping down to a larger platform deeper inside the trees. Theissen felt his stomach drop out as they went down, now surrounded entirely by the birdmen village of trees, flapping children with wings, and many strange looking nest-like formations with homelike planking attached. When they landed in the middle of what first looked like an overlarge collection of pigeons, Theissen still had a hard time feeling that the floor would hold under him. Every step created a creak unsteadier than the wood on the docks at Shoredge Town. At least there at the coast if he broke through he would end up in water. Underneath them was nothing but more branches and distant forest floor.

The crowd parted, old faces peering back at him and the two birdmen with a look of only mild surprise. Their eyes grew wider as they fixed their stares on Theissen.

“And what have we here?” one of the hunched birdmen elders said, his gray and white wings fluttering a bit as he walked. Theissen half expected him to hop over on bird feet.

Mensin rested a hand on Theissen’s shoulder. “A wizard.”

“Theissen Darol Mukumar Carpenterson of a village,” Theobold added with a bow to the old birdmen.

“Of Lumen Village,” Theissen said, bowing himself. Then he extended his hand per custom. The birdmen eyed his hand for a moment before one chuckled and took it in a shake.

“We haven’t stood on ceremony in a while,” that elderly birdman said with a genial smile. He was an awful lot like the villages elders in Lumen. They all were. Their wings and odd graying hair colors were the only differences, really.

Released from the shake, Theissen drew in a breath, glancing over at the edge of the platform again with unease.

One of the elders drew him in with a smile. “Uncomfortable with heights, I gather?”

Theissen managed a weak smile.

“Not to worry. These flets are sturdy. You won’t fall unless you lean over.” He guided Theissen toward the center where they had what looked like a table and several pillows to sit on. On the table were elegant looking scrolls, all held together with heavy rods and fine ribbons. Two or three were rolled out. And as Theissen could see, the writing was in familiar Jatten, though somewhat dated.

“So, what brings you to our forest?” one of the bird elders asked.

Theissen glanced at Theobold once. The birdman had taken a roost on a seat that was part of the floor. In fact, all the furniture was part of the floor, woven or inset in some way that any piece could be mistaken for an irregular depression or lump in what