ourselves, are the one enemy we cannot
overcome.”
She frowned,
concerned.
“Will it ever
happen again?” she asked. “Is there anything else in this place like that?” she
asked, fear in her voice as she studied the horizon.
Thor studied it
too, wondering the very same thing himself—when all too soon, to his dread, the
answer came rushing out at them.
There came a
tremendous splash, like the sound of a whale surfacing, and Thor was amazed to
see the most hideous creature he’d ever seen emerging before him. It looked
like a monster squid, fifty feet high, bright red, the color of blood, and it
loomed over the ship as it shot up out of the waters, its endless tentacles
thirty feet long, dozens of them spreading out in every direction. Its beady
yellow eyes scowled down at them, filled with fury, as its huge mouth, lined
with sharp yellow fangs, opened up with a sickening sound. The creature blotted
out whatever light the gloomy skies had allowed, and it shrieked an unearthly
sound as it began to descend right for them, its tentacles spread out, ready to
consume the entire ship.
Thor watched it
with dread, caught up in its shadow with all the others, and he knew they had
gone from one certain death to the next.
CHAPTER TWO
The Empire
commander lashed his zerta again and again as he galloped through the Great
Waste, following the trail, as he had been for days, across the desert floor.
Behind him, his men rode on, gasping, on the verge of collapsing, as he had not
given them a moment to rest the entire time they had been riding—even
throughout the night. He knew how to drive zertas into the ground—and he knew
how to drive men, too.
He had no mercy
on himself, and he certainly had none for his men. He wanted them to be
impervious to exhaustion and heat and cold—especially when they were on a
mission as sacred as this. After all, if this trail actually led to where he hoped
it might—to the legendary Ridge itself—it could change the entire fate of the
Empire.
The commander
dug his heels into the zerta’s back until it shrieked, forcing it ever faster,
until it was nearly tripping over itself. He squinted into the sun, scrutinizing
the trail as they went. He had followed many trails in his life, and had killed
many people at the end of them—yet he had never followed a trail as enthralling
as this one. He could feel how close he was to the greatest discovery in the
history of the Empire. His name would be memorialized, sung of for generations.
They ascended a
ridge in the desert, and he began to hear a faint noise growing, like a storm
brewing in the desert; he looked out as they crested it, expecting to see a
sandstorm coming their way, and he was shocked, instead, to spot a stationary
wall of sand a hundred yards away, rising straight up from the ground into the
sky, swirling and churning, like a tornado in place.
He stopped, his
men beside him, and watched, curious, as it did not seem to move. He could not
understand it. It was a wall of raging sand, but it did not come any closer. He
wondered what lay on the other side. Somehow, he sensed, it was the Ridge.
“Your trail
ends,” one of his soldiers said derisively.
“We cannot pass
through that wall,” said another.
“You have led us
to nothing but more sand,” said another.
The commander
slowly shook his head, scowling back with conviction.
“And what if
there lies a land on the other side of that sand?” he retorted.
“The other side?”
a soldier asked. “You are mad. It is nothing but a cloud of sand, an endless
waste, like the rest of this desert.”
“Admit your
failure,” said another soldier. “Turn back now—or if not, we shall turn back
without you.”
The commander
turned and faced his soldiers, shocked at their insolence—and saw contempt and
rebellion in their eyes. He knew he had to act quickly if he were to quash it.
In a fit of
sudden rage, the commander reached down, grabbed a dagger from his
overcome.”
She frowned,
concerned.
“Will it ever
happen again?” she asked. “Is there anything else in this place like that?” she
asked, fear in her voice as she studied the horizon.
Thor studied it
too, wondering the very same thing himself—when all too soon, to his dread, the
answer came rushing out at them.
There came a
tremendous splash, like the sound of a whale surfacing, and Thor was amazed to
see the most hideous creature he’d ever seen emerging before him. It looked
like a monster squid, fifty feet high, bright red, the color of blood, and it
loomed over the ship as it shot up out of the waters, its endless tentacles
thirty feet long, dozens of them spreading out in every direction. Its beady
yellow eyes scowled down at them, filled with fury, as its huge mouth, lined
with sharp yellow fangs, opened up with a sickening sound. The creature blotted
out whatever light the gloomy skies had allowed, and it shrieked an unearthly
sound as it began to descend right for them, its tentacles spread out, ready to
consume the entire ship.
Thor watched it
with dread, caught up in its shadow with all the others, and he knew they had
gone from one certain death to the next.
CHAPTER TWO
The Empire
commander lashed his zerta again and again as he galloped through the Great
Waste, following the trail, as he had been for days, across the desert floor.
Behind him, his men rode on, gasping, on the verge of collapsing, as he had not
given them a moment to rest the entire time they had been riding—even
throughout the night. He knew how to drive zertas into the ground—and he knew
how to drive men, too.
He had no mercy
on himself, and he certainly had none for his men. He wanted them to be
impervious to exhaustion and heat and cold—especially when they were on a
mission as sacred as this. After all, if this trail actually led to where he hoped
it might—to the legendary Ridge itself—it could change the entire fate of the
Empire.
The commander
dug his heels into the zerta’s back until it shrieked, forcing it ever faster,
until it was nearly tripping over itself. He squinted into the sun, scrutinizing
the trail as they went. He had followed many trails in his life, and had killed
many people at the end of them—yet he had never followed a trail as enthralling
as this one. He could feel how close he was to the greatest discovery in the
history of the Empire. His name would be memorialized, sung of for generations.
They ascended a
ridge in the desert, and he began to hear a faint noise growing, like a storm
brewing in the desert; he looked out as they crested it, expecting to see a
sandstorm coming their way, and he was shocked, instead, to spot a stationary
wall of sand a hundred yards away, rising straight up from the ground into the
sky, swirling and churning, like a tornado in place.
He stopped, his
men beside him, and watched, curious, as it did not seem to move. He could not
understand it. It was a wall of raging sand, but it did not come any closer. He
wondered what lay on the other side. Somehow, he sensed, it was the Ridge.
“Your trail
ends,” one of his soldiers said derisively.
“We cannot pass
through that wall,” said another.
“You have led us
to nothing but more sand,” said another.
The commander
slowly shook his head, scowling back with conviction.
“And what if
there lies a land on the other side of that sand?” he retorted.
“The other side?”
a soldier asked. “You are mad. It is nothing but a cloud of sand, an endless
waste, like the rest of this desert.”
“Admit your
failure,” said another soldier. “Turn back now—or if not, we shall turn back
without you.”
The commander
turned and faced his soldiers, shocked at their insolence—and saw contempt and
rebellion in their eyes. He knew he had to act quickly if he were to quash it.
In a fit of
sudden rage, the commander reached down, grabbed a dagger from his