Page 20 of Tiger's Tale
“You didn’t need to hit me,” Nik replied, scowling as he climbed to his feet. “A verbal reminder is sufficient.”
“We are in their territory,” Larix said. “Resent my censure if you will. My only aim is to preserve your life.”
After climbing to his feet, Nik took a long look at the tree spirit, who seemed to have shrunk in size and appeared even more wrinkled than usual. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
The creature hesitated momentarily but then let out a deep sigh of resignation and admitted, “The same blight that kills the forest affects me as well. The monster who lives here uses his power to drain the life from the trees and the animals to give false life to dead things. The longer I stay, the more likely I will die—that is, unless you are successful in evicting him or convincing him to follow you.”
“I see.” Nik placed a hand on the bark of a nearby tree, and it sloughed off, collapsing into a pile of dusty pink powder at the base. “We’d better hurry, then.”
“Yes. We should.”
They pressed forward until they finally arrived at the swamp of the kikimory. Uncertain, Larix hung back at the edge, his still-large feet sinking into the mud, the murky waters enfolding them like lover’s hands beckoning him into a dark, eternal embrace.
“What is it?” Nik asked, standing higher on solid ground, searching for monstrous spider creatures lurking beneath the exposed roots and moss-covered branches.
“I was larger before. I planned to carry you across my shoulders and wade through, but I’m shrinking quickly. The bog is vast. I do not think we can span the distance safely while my legs are still long enough to do such a thing. A raft might be possible, but in my weakened condition...”
His words dropped off, and different possibilities of how Nik could perish lapped thickly in his mind just like the heavy water rolled over Larix’s wooden ankles. Whatever they decided, time was running out, and the longer they hesitated, the worse off they’d be. A decision needed to be made, and quickly.
“Carry me for now and construct a raft when that no longer works. We won’t worry about the kikimory,” Nik said. “If we run into them, it’s likely they’re being drained just as you are.”
“Very well. Come.”
Larix offered Nik one of his very long arms, and Nik climbed up and up until he settled on the tree spirit’s shoulders. Branches grew around his body to give him a place to rest, and then the creature set out across the bog, his legs and feet sinking deep into the water, stirring bugs and iridescent green globules to the surface.
For the span of a few hours, they met little resistance other than frogs, snakes, and tree roots. Snakes moved quickly out of the way, unless they were large. Bigger ones hissed angrily and occasionally attacked, but their bites did nothing to Larix, and they just assumed he was a large floating tree, so they moved on. Only once did a large snake cause trouble, wrapping itself around the tree spirit and impeding their progress.
It was angry and hungry, and it sensed Nik up in the “tree’s” branches even with the magic of the tunic and his boots. Nik had to climb down Larix’s arm and hang by his legs, upside down, then use his soldier’s sword to cut off the head of the large reptile. After that, it still took the better part of an hour to untwist the heavy, muscled body from its death grip on the tree spirit’s body. Fortunately, Larix shrunk during that time, making the job easier; unfortunately, he found he could no longer support the weight of himself and his passenger as well. It was time to build a raft.
Larix channeled more of his power into shaping branches into a raft complete with a long pushing pole. By the time he was done, he’d shrunk even more. He was now just the size of a large human man and no longer had the ability to expand his form. Together the tree spirit and Nik climbed aboard the newly constructed raft and continued their journey. They’d traversed nearly three-quarters of the swamp. Only a bit more to go. They hadn’t encountered a single kikimora yet, either, and wondered if perhaps they were all dead.
In fact, they were just congratulating each other on the success of their journey when they spotted a ripple in the water. They quieted, watching as it diverted toward them, accelerating at a steady pace. Then an arced shape broke the water, and suddenly a huge arachnid body burst upward and landed on the surface, stretching out its eight hairy legs so each one made a puckered dimple atop the dark bog, allowing it to float.
It considered them for a moment, blinking its many eyes. Then it opened its black mouth, and Nik could see the sharp, glistening fangs. “Have you come seeking your exculpation for the death of my sister, Larix? Do you think this gift of blood, organs, and adipose is enough to shrink my fangs? I promise you—it is not. When she left our swamp hidden in your beard, you swore she would be safe. Now I will not rest until your beard is trampled beneath my eight legs and lies at the bottom of my swamp, where I will use it as a nest.”
Nik was surprised that the monstrous tree spirit beside him began to cry.
“I didn’t know,” he proclaimed bitterly to the angry kikimora.
“Your ignorance is no excuse. Come and let me kill you. Then I can die in peace at last after having built our final resting place. A nest in which to lay all my dead children. And all the eggs that will never hatch. I will use your bones to build a memorial to all the kikimory who have died, and then I will lay down next to it and pass from this world to a greater.”
With that, she pressed her legs into the water and rose up, then did it again and again, coming toward them faster and faster, running atop the water on eight spider legs at a gallop that was at once monstrous and beautiful. Nik didn’t know if he should describe it as flying, natation, or silk spinning, but whatever it was, however she moved, it was a type of magic all its own.
Before he could prepare himself for her attack—not that there was any way he could have prepared—the kikimora was on them, and she wrapped all her spidery limbs around Larix and upset the raft, dragging the tree spirit beneath the dark water. Nik went overboard as well but quickly scrambled back on top and managed to grab hold of the push pole. He waited for a moment, but he couldn’t hear any struggle between the two large beings. Figuring Larix had given in to fate, and knowing there wasn’t much he could do to help other than wishing the tree spirit luck with his sister-in-law, Nik pushed ahead.
As luck would have it, he met with no other opposition and finally found the end of the swamp a few hours later. He’d just located a cavity formed by some large rocks and was ready to sink into a deep, much-needed sleep when something hit him hard on the back of the head. The last thought he had as he slumped to the ground was that he must have been more tired than he’d thought.
Later, when he opened his eyes, he tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry to let him do much more than just press his tacky lips together. The light was far too bright to see anything clearly, and his head hurt badly. There was a sticky, metallic taste in his mouth, and he couldn’t move his hands or his head for some reason. That’s when he heard the laugh. The one he recognized. The light moved, and he blinked. If he was an optimist, he’d say that the good news was that he’d ended up where he’d meant to be. He just didn’t have the upper hand. At least not yet. Nik tried to say something, and it came out a jumbled mess.
“What? What was that?” the man said. “Speak up. Get him some water.”
A cup of water was lifted to his mouth. Nik swished it around and spat. Then he took one deep swallow and another. “Thank you. I... I’ve come to make you an offer,” he said.
“An offer?” The man laughed. “What would a soldier have that I couldn’t just take for myself?” he asked.
Nik became alert enough to recognize that his hands were tied behind his back. Wincing, he shifted to his knees and then awkwardly stood. “The offer doesn’t come from me but from the royal tsarevna.”
“The tsarevna?” the man asked, sitting forward, the interest clear on his face.
