Wolf Moon Part 29
"There it is." Trowa announced with a tilt of his head.
On a wide expanse of water-polished pebbles, the Cleric, the Manipulator, the Duel Spirit, the Beast and the Demon Tracker stood shoulder to shoulder beside a crude wooden boat and surveyed their last barrier before reaching Deep World.
The River of Souls slithered like a glistening snake sandwiched between sheer granite cliffs that cast cold shadows over the Warriors of the Rose. Keeping true to its serpentine configuration, the river twisted left then right then disappeared around a rocky bend.
Along the river's swallow banks black water lapped smoothly but the deeper, boulder-strewn center channel was deceptively swift. Strong undercurrents churned up frothy white foam, created sucking whirlpools and put the quinque on notice that navigating the hazardous waterway would require all their skill and a generous portion of luck.
Canvas bags, waterproofed with pine pitch to keep personal belongings and various weapons dry, were secured on board. Wufei and Quatre grabbed a rope attached to the boat's bow, tugged until the water buoyed the simple craft then jumped in to sit in front of Heero.
Duo planted one boot on the bank, braced his hands on the stern section, pushed and slid his leg over the side.
As the boat rocked in a side to side motion, Duo settled beside Heero. He gazed up the vertical rock walls then mentally measured the gap that appeared too narrow to pass through.
"I guess Trowa knows what he's doin'." he stated lowly so the Twilight Priest wouldn't hear.
Heero followed his comrade's line of sight, shrugged in a non-committed manner and offered no opinion on the Trowa's waterman qualifications.
Muscles bulged as Trowa angled the rudder to turn the boat downstream then his arms relaxed when the current took over. "Ready?" Receiving positive nods he ordered, "Steady the oars. Stay to the right and watch for slipstreams."
The boat picked up speed. Trowa steeled his nerve and silently recited a prayer of protection he'd learned as a boy.
*********
Odin stopped at the top of nineteen stone steps leading to Eagle Eyre's parapets. He raised a hand; first to mop his damp forehead then to shield his eyes when the sun slipped free from billowing clouds that looked like dandelion tufts.
The steep climb had cramped Odin's crippled leg and left him wheezing but it was hesitation that kept him in place just inside the moss encrusted portico. Directly ahead, framed by a fusion of light and shadows, Treize Khushrenada rested his forearms on the castle's crumbling breastworks.
Earlier that morning Treize had emerged from his bedchamber in a sullen mood. The exiled General had aimed acidic glares, shrieked foul oaths and used physical intimidation to display his displeasure with the world.
With a brooding posture, he slumped over a breakfast of oat porridge washed down with wine and alternated between grumbling under his breath and fondling the handsome man-child who was the newest whore to curry his master's favor.
Now still as a statue, with his cloak rippling across his shoulders, it wasn't clear if the Dark Lord's gaze was focused on the downy clouds or on three black vultures soaring in lazy circles. It was just a likely he was held spellbound by delusional visions spawned from his deranged grasp of reality.
Sensing his rooftop sanctuary had been invaded, Treize growled. "Who is it?"
"Odin, sire."
Not a muscle twitched. "What do you want?"
Odin swallowed to dislodge the lump in his throat and tested his voice before answering. "The Shadow Spy has returned."
Treize straightened slightly but didn't turn around. "Does he have news of the quinque?"
"Yes, sire.
"Tell him to wait in the Great Hall."
Hopeful that his descending trek would be easier on his leg and his lungs, Odin started off with hobbled strides to deliver the Dark Lord's orders.
Buffeted by the wind howling across the ramparts, Treize's cloak flared out like black wings as he pivoted in place. "Do you believe in fate?"
Odin took a moment to consider the peculiar question. "I'm certain external powers influence our lives but whether fate is the deciding factor...well...I'm not that wise."
*********
Drenched and exhausted, Trowa struggled to steer in the erratic currents. Muscles burning and hearts hammering, Quatre and Duo rowed while Heero and Wufei back paddled then the oarsmen's roles were reversed to prevent a collision with the cliff's craggy sides.
The river hissed lending credence that the warriors were indeed riding along a fluid serpent's spine. Boulders blurred into gray masses. Without warning the bow thrust into the turbulent torrents.
Wufei braced against the deluge that threatened to swamp the boat but he was no match for the powerful surge. The oar twisted in his hand, his body followed suit.
Suddenly his was tumbling towards the swirling water with nothing to grab onto but empty air.
Heero's oar struck the hull with a thud. Just as Wufei pitched forward, Heero's fingers managed to snag Wufei's shirt but the momentum continued to drag both the Beast and the Demon Hunter overboard.
"Dammit!" Duo yelled as his comrades plunged headfirst towards the raging rapids.
All Duo had time to do was wrap one arm around Heero's waist and tackle the Tracker. Duo gritted his teeth and tugged. Inch by inch, with the boat bucking and the blood-rush humming in his ears, he hauled Heero back from the brink of disaster. In turn, Wufei was also spared being bashed on the rocks and spending eternity in a watery grave.
The salvaged survivors and their champion sprawled at Quatre's feet in a tangled heap of arms and legs. While Heero was offered an enticing view of Duo's trim buttocks; the Duel Spirit's braid peeked out from under Wufei's chin.
For a moment the treacherous trip and the likelihood of physical harm was forgotten. The trio's attention was temporarily occupied with regulating labored breathing, reducing the panicked heartbeats pounding against their ribs and staving off the sturdy shivers created by the being soaked to the bone.
However, Quatre wasn't free to indulge in a gradual regaining of his physical fitness. With a declaration liberally saturated with swearing, he reminded his counterparts that he was the only person keeping their sorry asses afloat.
Additional incentive for a speedy recovery was encouraged when Trowa announced loudly. "THE RIVER IS REVERSING!"
Duo raised up. A shallow breath hitched in his chest. "Merciful saints."
Wufei unraveled himself from his fellow warriors and scrambled to his knees. Heero sat up and was equally stunned at the sight before him.
The River of Souls was racing, with gut-wrenching speed, at a barrier of stone so high it vanished into the mist-shrouded sky. Even more frightening, the river appeared to run out of space as it slammed into the wall with such force the backwash produced a powerful undertow.
A deep rumble like a thousand thunderclaps reverberated off the walls. The boat slipped sideways then rotated so the rudder butted against the current which effectively negated its control.
In the back of Duo's mind he knew that Trowa and Quatre had made several journeys to Deep World and he knew, from their presences, they had somehow outsmarted the River of Souls.
But as the boat wanted to spin and the rudder was useless, he had to wonder what quirk of fate had intervened on previous trips. Perhaps Quatre had bartered with nature or Trowa had bargained with the devil. Or maybe this entire adventure was a dream and he would wake up unscathed but somehow Duo doubted that was true.
Heero and Wufei must have been experiencing similar skepticism concerning their chances of survival. They stared ahead, gawked wide-eyed with an indescribable expression fixed on their faces. Neither man made a move to take up the oars nor did they act as though their brains were in any way communicating with their bodies.
What Trowa did next was utterly stupefying. He made his way to Quatre who was crouched between the seats then he and Quatre laid down and curled up in each other's arms.
"Join us!"
The words were not an invitation but an order issued with the utmost importance. Then contrary to the urgent inflection in Trowa's voice, the Twilight Priest and his lover closed their eyes as if they were settling down to sleep.
Duo, Heero and Wufei exchanged curious glances. Finally Duo figured he and his comrades were running out of time and he reckoned he'd take the chance that Trowa wasn't daft or if he was, he was crazy like a fox.
Five bodies lay down. Five souls united in trust, and in that mutual conviction, the quinque shared an instinctive connection that everything would be all right.
Heero intertwined his fingers with Duo's fingers and whispered. "We'll face this together."
"I'll never leave you." Duo pledged then copied his friends and closed his eyes.
*********
The Shadow Spy hovered above the floor in a vaporous configuration designed to mimic human contours.
Odin sat by the fire, lame leg stretched out in hopes that the heat would ease its aching. He wasn't at all comfortable with the phantasmic representation that didn't cast a reflection or leave footprints nor did he trust Septum who was pacing by the soot-clouded window.
Hinges groaned. Heavy wooden doors opened into the Great Hall. The Dark Lord of Aragon cut his eyes at Odin then centered the icy blue orbs on his wispy agent.
"Report."
A mouth mismatched to the words announced. "The quinque has reached the River of Souls."
Treize rubbed his chin, his fingertips scratching over a two-day growth of stubble. "Will they reached Deep World or be dashed against the cliffs?" he asked, not that the Spy's opinion mattered.
"The Priest and the Manipulator have made the journey before and they have always tamed the river."
Treize redirected his attention to where Septum leaned his shoulder against the wall, arms folded across his chest. "It will take too long to secure enough boats," Treize declared as he mentally calculated the troop numbers, "The western passage is the only reasonable route."
Septum couldn't argue with the logistical problems of moving an army from Point A to Point B., especially when the Soulless Slaves had to be herded like cattle.
"The western passage will take longer but I suppose we have no other alternative."
The Dark Lord flopped down in a chair upholstered in faded red satin. "The Priest and his impotent companions won't be inclined to leave Deep World." Sadness flickered over Treize's eyes. "After all they adore Zechs."
*********
Duo let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Eyes still shut tight, he tried to make sense of his circumstances.
Violent shudders had given way to a gentle bobbing sensation. A soft sloshing sound had replaced the roar of angry water and the shrill creaking of overstressed wood.
Cautiously opening his eyes, Duo gazed into a sea of cobalt blue. "What in the hell happened?"
"I'm not sure." Heero answered honestly.
Behind the puzzled pair, Wufei moaned then, with calculated movements, sat up to surveyed his surroundings.
The boat was drifting towards a natural archway Wufei estimated to be fifty feet tall at its apex. Cursing in Chinese, he craned his neck at the yawning breach that was not only consuming the water but the sunlight as well.
Trowa and Quatre unlaced their embrace and eased up to confirm that they exactly where they should be.
"We've arrived." Trowa announced with a smile that bordered on being cocky.
Crossing the cavernous threshold of Deep World the boat bearing the Warriors of the Rose was enveloped by murky gloom that left no trace their passing.
TBC...
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