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Chapter the Ninth : In Which We Arrive in Kathmandu

We reached Kathmandu after nightfall, but we are still accustomed to traveling by night. When we arrived, we went to the inn mentioned by Sang, and dropped off the baskets and cutlery. We spent the few hours remaining of the night, and most of the morning sleeping. After breakfast, the innkeeper's assistant, Katherine, gave us tunnel directions to the town hall, and reiterated the request that we stay below ground.

We visited town hall, and took a number. We waited for over an hour before our number was called, and we visited a clerk, representative of the local government. We explained how we had arrived in Kathmandu, and our desire to learn where we were with respect to the outside world. The clerk looked us over, and asked if we were the party who was having trouble with that never to be sufficiently damned weather god. We stalled a moment, and then agreed that that was us. The clerk made a notation on a piece of paper. Looking over another bound journal, the clerk asked if anyone in the party was the woman who had assisted Calliope. Everyone else said no, and I stepped forward and said that was me. For once, I was not instantly questioned on the details of that portion of my travels. The clerk made another note, and asked if I still had my VIP pass. I said I did. The clerk asked why were we paying for room and board when we had a VIP pass. I said no one else in the group knew about it, and I didn't realize it was good at hostelries in the valley. The clerk rolled her eyes, and opened a till. She pulled out a stack of coins, and gave them to me. The amount was exactly what we had spent so far. The clerk briefly berated me for paying when I should have been using the pass, and that reimbursement was a hassle, and if I did it again, I could just be out the money and no tears would be shed on her part. I reassured her that I would make sure I used the pass from now on. Jack reassured the clerk also.

The clerk then asked why we were so interested in a map of the valley with respect to the outside world. Leroy said we wanted to make sure we could go home. The clerk said we hardly needed a map for that. Tunnel maps would be supplied whenever we needed one; we just had to ask. We hemmed and hawed, and finally Marion blurted out the question we were all dying to ask: where in the heck are we anyway?

The clerk looked at us skeptically, and said, you really don't know, do you. We vigorously agreed, and she made a clucking sound and shook her head. She pulled on a tassel. We heard a distant bell ring, and a moment later, another clerk entered the room. The two clerks consulted in whispers, and the second clerk led us to another room. We were served tea and cookies, and the clerks left. We had snacks, which was nice, but we had no answers. About an hour went by, and the second clerk returned, with a basket containing letters and a small package. After sorting through it for a moment, she handed the basket to me, except for one letter, which she opened, and read out loud to us.

The letter was addressed to Jack, Leroy and Astrea. I will not include the complete contents of the letter, which was long, but I will summarize. The first third of the letter consisted of a fulsome description of the three and a number of accomplishments or adventures which were attributed to them. The second third of the letter requested their assistance in a graduation exercise in Kathmandu. To accomplish the purpose of this particular exercise, they were directed to locate me (my real name was listed, an accurate description, right down to the serpent no one knew about, and the town of Laurel mentioned as my probable location). Then they were to attract a target, and proceed at a leisurely pace to Kathmandu. They were to arrive at a specified date, which was still one week in the future. The last section of the letter listed a number of inducements to comply with the request, and further compliments and praise of their astounding abilities. The letter closed.

We all looked around at each other. I started laughing, and missed what Astrea said to Jack and Leroy. She would not repeat it for my benefit later. Jack and Leroy were bemused, and eventually Jack started chuckling also. The clerk who had read the letter out to us looked us all over. Everyone else was looking at each other trying to figure out if anyone else had got the joke. I stopped laughing long enough to say I knew there had to be a purpose to picking me up and dragging me all over creation. Jack threw his arms up in the air in denial, shaking his head, unable to stop chuckling.

Once we quieted down, we explained the obvious: we had not received the letter. Astrea said they'd been split up while north of Linkton; the letter would have been difficult to deliver. Presumably it was still chasing Jack, Leroy and Astrea in Logwood or Phak, while we were traveling south to Lytton. We scratched our heads over why it hadn't caught up with us in Lytton, and concluded that it may have gotten bogged down in or around Riding Cross, and missed us in Axton since we hadn't stayed in town. The clerk said if it had still been chasing us when we crossed the mountains, it would have fallen further behind there, because the mountains were a boundary between two postal organizations and the mail tended to sit for a week or more between pickup. Jack remembered that a mail carrier had been killed near Crossville and Artana. If the mail had almost caught up with us, it might well have missed us with that kind of disruption. If it had been on that carrier, that alone might explain why it hadn't caught up with us south of Artana.

The clerk was skeptical, and wanted to know how Jack, Leroy and Astrea had known to meet me in Laurel, if they had never seen the letter. They explained again about the diviners they had contacted, and the consistent recommendation to pick up a person of indeterminate gender in Laurel. The clerk rolled her eyes and relented. We were early, and our target was too powerful for a solo graduation exercise. However, the older dragons did periodically practice, or retrain against a sizable target. She thought they might be willing to do so a decade earlier than usual, in conjunction with a graduation exercise. If there was difficulty in convincing the older dragons, she thought they would respond to an argument that the hardest lesson to train was the importance of calling in additional help. This target would surely hammer that point home for the entire class, which was unusually large at twenty two dragons.

We were dismissed, and told firmly to use the VIP pass, not cash, for payment. We could amuse ourselves however we liked, as long as we stayed underground or within stone buildings. The consensus among the older dragons was that as long as we had at least three inches of rock or earth between us and the outside, Squiddie couldn't spot us. We requested and received tunnel maps. When the clerk handed them over, she told us that if we left, we had to be back within ten days for the graduation exercise. Jack questioned the date, and it was confirmed. The exercise was to be delayed by three days to allow time for all the necessary older dragons to be recalled to Kathmandu.

I was appalled at the prospect of ten days underground, even with Sang's cooking to amuse us. Most of the group thought it would be nice to get a break from all the traveling. They were happy with their quarters, and even more so with the unlimited supply of good food, well-maintained latrines, and all the warm baths they could stand. Ivan and Mauser had already found a bathing facility that was not only large enough for two, but had several controllable jets and a constantly recirculating fountain. Rushi, Mervish and Dervish had found an underground room in the town library, and the librarian was currently supplying them with obscure volumes of information about even more obscure gods. They, at least, were attempting to find out more about Squiddie. Leroy had told everyone that the graduation exercise would be a battle with Squiddie, hopefully to the death, but at minimum to cut Squiddie down to a low enough level that it would take most of our lifetimes for him to become a threat again. That reassurance, plus present safety and creature comforts had caused more than just the dwarves to withdraw. Irvish was sound asleep. Marion and Joe were engaged in a variety of activities that were easier with opposable thumbs than otherwise. Joe was preparing spell components. Marion was reading. The only people interested in hearing me whine were Leroy, Jack and Astrea.

They, however, were not concerned about being bored, and told me I shouldn't be worried either. While the dragons might be satisfied with wearing Squiddie down, we, collectively, were not. That was why Rushi, Mervish and Dervish were off doing research. In the meantime, Astrea explained, we were going to play with Squiddie. I asked how. She said, by playing hide-and-go-seek. She pulled out a map to a separate valley, on the other side of one of the mountains. It would take about a day to get there. Once there, we would expose ourselves briefly, and then duck back into the tunnels. We would do this, using different exits, until we had a rough idea of how long it took Squiddie to locate us.

I asked what good that information would do us. Astrea shrugged. Data was data. Leroy said that we might learn other things also. I said that sounded ominous. Jack said that was a reasonable response. I asked what might we learn. They all shrugged. We didn't know, and that's why we'd be going there to find out. I asked why we couldn't do this here, in Kathmandu. Too dangerous; we weren't to risk the young dragons. I wasn't going to make any headway here. I went off to sleep.

In the morning, I was faced with an entire day of nothing in particular to do and therefore more receptive to ideas like taunting a god. After all, I'd been chased and attacked by this god over the course of more than a month and I wasn't dead yet. There was no reason to believe that was going to change this week. We set out, laden with two meals worth of Sang's cooking.

We reached our destination, but decided to sleep before exposing ourselves. The general idea was that whatever was going to happen would be best met on plenty of food and sleep. I saw no reason to argue. The next day, after having spent the day ducking in and out of one tunnel, it occurred to me that this too was very dull work, involving a lot of waiting. We started with hour waits in the tunnel, followed by five minute exposures, working by degrees to five minutes in the tunnel, and an hour outdoors, before getting Squiddie's attention. I was ready to scream with boredom. The nudge of a bolt, cut off as we ducked into the tunnel, was almost a relief.

We switched tunnels, and conferred over food. We decided to return to the tunnel Squiddie had found us near after dinner. None of us were tired, and we wanted to find out what else Squiddie might try. We didn't even get all the way back before we saw one of Squiddie's tentacles, separated from the god, slithering in the tunnel, all toothy and loathsome, searching for us. Jack and Astrea hacked into it. The pieces were still mobile, until it was chopped into more than eight. Then they all quieted, so much gory flesh. Leroy booted them out of the corridor, and we hunkered down to see what would happen next.

Nothing did happen for two hours. We looked around for more of the tentacled creatures. We found nothing, so we retreated to a bathing facility and took turns cleaning up. Then we established a watch, and slept.

The next two days were more interesting, but still monotonous. Squiddie sent a few more tentacular individuals into the tunnels, and we found and killed them. After the fourth, we found no more. We went outdoors for almost an hour, and then ducked back in. While we were not attacked, Squiddie had relocated us, and sent several more tentacled creatures. This time, they came in pairs, continuing until we had killed sixteen. We ate, we bathed, we watched, we slept. We woke to kill again.

Leroy, however, was reluctant to attract Squiddie's attention, and Astrea felt the same way. They thought the trend looked bad. We might be able to handle four at a time, which would likely be next, but they doubted we'd be able to handle eight. Better to think of another solution now. We spent an hour looking at each other, without any ideas. At the end of that hour, Irvish and Mervish arrived.

Mervish, Dervish and Rushi had had an Idea. They had found the journal of weather mage for Divara Sitol, now dead, but who had taught Michaen. They'd recognized the name, and concluded that anyone who taught Michaen might know a thing or two that Michaen had forgotten, or at least forgotten to tell me.

This weather mage had spent a lot of time theorizing about Squiddie's abilities, and had taken a particular interest in Squiddie's ability to separate into different creatures, and travel independently. He was the source of the equation Michaen had given me for the number of creatures, total distance away from the main body of the god, and the number of living, worshiping followers of the god. The weather mage, however, had considered what might happen to the main body of the god, and possibly the main body of worshippers, when something happened to one of the subordinate creatures. For example, the tentacular creatures could be killed. The weather mage described a number of ways they had been killed. They had been trampled by mobs. They had been hacked to pieces. He noted that they had to be hacked up quite a lot before the pieces died, and supplied an equation that related the number of pieces to the number of followers, distance to the god and some unknown variable that sounded like how far it was to the nearest large body of water, or maybe it was just how damp the air was. He didn't know, and I didn't care. The tentacular creatures could be burned, but they usually had to be immobilized first, and, being damp, didn't burn well. Greek fire was recommended.

Despite the fact that we didn't have any Greek fire, the section describing burning the tentacular creatures caught Leroy's and Astrea's attention. They talked about it briefly, and came to a conclusion almost immediately. Burning the creatures caused pain for the followers, and when the creature did not die quickly, the pain continued. When the creature died, the followers recovered. Based on what happened in the square, Leroy and Astrea thought that capturing the creatures, and tormenting them without killing them, was our best chance at weakening Squiddie.

Jack pointed out that if these things could communicate, Squiddie might just send more. Leroy and Astrea rifled through the rest of the notes, and asked Mervish some questions. They was no absolute statement in the weather mage's writings, but nothing contradicted the theory that Squiddie only had so many tentacles. When one died, Squiddie could grow another. But until it died, Squiddie was stuck. If we captured them all, the dragons ought to be able to tackle Squiddie without the assistance of the tentacled creatures. And it was just possible that, if we could transmit enough pain to Squiddie's followers, the dragons could finish off the main body of the god entirely. Kill the creatures if they were still alive, and no more Squiddie.

That, at least, was the theory. Rushi had also sent along some data about the number of worshippers of Squiddie, and several paragraphs discussing what the average worshipper was like, and what that implied for the number of creatures Squiddie could generate, according to Michaen and his teacher. We went over her math, but none of us had any opinion one way or the other. I found it oddly comforting that Squiddie was likely to max out at sixty-four tentacles. If the number had been a thousand or more, I might have just gone back to Kathmandu and taken a long nap and maybe a few hot baths and learned enough meditation to be comfortable with living underground for the rest of my life.

I'm not even going to describe the next two days. First, they were profoundly gory. Second, they were dull. Oh, there were exciting moments. There was the point where Squiddie sent eight creatures, instead of the usual four. There was the point where all four of the newly arrived creatures, and all three still living, decided to attack Astrea at the same time. We helped, but it was touch-and-go for a moment. We pulled them off her, and killed them as quickly as possible. By the time we found her under three dead we hadn't killed, she was coated with a slick layer of blood, mucus and something rank that we never identified, but came off the skin of the creatures when they were chopped up but not yet dead. She was hissing with anger. We retreated into the tunnels, to catch our breath, and clean off the worst of the muck. Astrea was non-verbal with rage for half an hour. Jack finally got her to settle down, and the first words she said were, "Those things taste foul!" And every time I think about that, I want to vomit.

Those were the ones we killed. For the most part, we hacked them up, and put them in traps in the tunnels. We'd been taught how to trigger, disarm, and reload the various kinds, and had maps of the stockpiles of poison, arrows, spikes and so forth. We had the assistance of Kentee, a distant cousin of Calliope. She mostly made sure that any of the creatures that healed up too much got smited or hacked at or stomped on enough to keep them distracted. We noticed that after the third dozen, they all started healing more slowly. After the fourth dozen, I don't think they were healing at all. We viewed that as a good sign, but we were looking forward to seeing the last of the monsters.

All told, not counting the ones that we killed, since we figure those came back again, we got fifty-six. We kept a close watch, doubling up with the assistance of Irvish, Mervish and Kentee. When the watch got bored, they pounded our captives a bit more, but towards morning, we had to stop that, too, because too many were close to death. We lost one during the night. In the morning, we got four more, but after that, no more.

Mervish and Irvish returned to Kathmandu. They returned the following day with a contingent of human instructors and a handful of young dragons. These were all too young to participate in the graduation exercise, but were old enough to keep an eye on wounded monsters, and make sure they stayed that way. They were small enough to fit in the tunnels, but required adult human supervision. From talking to the supervisors, I concluded the primary dangers to the young dragons were young dragons, including themselves. We hung around for a few minutes, curious to see what toddler dragons could accomplish against the tentacular creatures.

The supervisors had trouble managing their charges. The dragons had been told to play with the creatures. Their dominant impulse was to jump aboard, grab on with front claws, raking with back claws. We lost two more creatures before the handlers got the dragons to slow down. Once the toddlers mellowed, they adopted one of two postures. The first was to crouch in front of the creature, waiting for a twitch, a motion, or any other sign of life. As soon as something moved, the young dragon swatted it.

The other approach was to crawl or leap aboard, and hunker down. The dragonets hummed, and moved their front paws up and down in a kneading motion. The handlers watched with some trepidation, but nothing else died while we were there. It was enthralling, for a while, but when we tired of watching dragonets knead and crouch and swat, we left.

We all trooped back to Kathmandu, to rest, and then watch the graduation exercise. I wasn't sure if we'd be participating or not. I asked, but no one else was sure, either.

Upon our return to Kathmandu, we were fed and allowed to sleep for several hours. When we had broken our fast, we were escorted to a large room under the town office, still underground. A large table was covered with a scale map of the valley and the surrounding mountains, including the smaller valley we had recently returned from. The map was in layers, made of a transparent, flexible material. The upper levels had positions marked on them. We were told these were watch locations for the dragons who patrolled the air above the region controlled by Kathmandu. The surface of the earth was in the middle. The lower levels were levels of tunnels. The second clerk we had talked to was shuffling markers along the maps, based on instructions from a woman.

The woman was striking. She was dressed in a formal gown, all black. It was closely fitted around her torso, with a full, sweeping skirt. She also wore a black cloak, lined with scarlet and fringed with purple. It was closed above her breasts, and had a high collar which exaggerated her long, slender neck. Only the skin on her face was visible. She wore long, fitted black satin gloves, each fastened with a row of tiny buttons. Her rings fitted over the material of the glove. She wore a hat. It looked like a headdress, fitting close to the head, shaped into two stylized horns. Her skin had the pallor of one unaccustomed to sunlight. I glanced over at Astrea, who was attempting to hide behind Jack. I strolled over and asked if they knew the woman in charge of tactics. Astrea nodded and whispered that it was her great-grandmother Malifica, and said something about still having a tan. Astrea was obviously very worried. I recommended pulling the veil on her hat down, and patted her on the shoulder by way of reassurance.

Malifica was joined by Jack, Leroy, Irvish, Marion, three other humans I didn't recognize, and me. She explained the markers that had been added: additional watch positions for the newly arrived dragons. The plan was to have them evenly spaced over several hills, mountains and valleys, to converge at a preset time. My group was to ensure Squiddie's arrival on the scene at the same time, by being physically exposed slightly in advance of the announced them. I said Squiddie had never manifested in person before, and asked why we believed he would now. Mervish, Dervish and Rushi all started talking at once.

After hushing them all, Malifica designated Dervish as spokesperson. Dervish explained that Squiddie wouldn't risk a mental or psychic attack as that had never worked on us and had once backfired badly. Squiddie might have a few envoys left and might send them, but we could easily handle them and Squiddie could not afford to lose any more power. Such an attack would only affect timing. Thus, Squiddie must manifest corporeally.

I asked why not an avatar. Dervish said that was possible, but the tentacular creatures were effectively avatars. Another avatar could likely be similarly trapped and used against the god. I asked why they believed Squiddie had no other tricks up its collective sleeve or squid equivalent. Dervish had no ready answer. I reminded them of the dreams, and Joe's attempts to ward. Malifica said we'd simply have to move back underground and reconvene if something new occurred. No one else had objections. Discussions of exact timing ensued.

A major squadron of dragons had not yet arrived, and was overdue by about an hour. Malifica asked us to prepare. Jack, Leroy, Irvish and Astrea conferred briefly, and decided our usual weapons would be adequate. During their conversation, a boy came running in, almost slamming into Malifica in his haste. She put out a hand to steady him, and he blurted out the arrival of the squadron between gasps for breath. Malifica thanked him and directed the clerk to collect the messengers. All were told the time of the attack, two hours from now, and dispatched. We received detailed tunnel directions and a marked map to the exit we would use to attract Squiddie's attention.

We hastened on our way. We rested briefly upon reaching the tunnel end. We drank water, caught our breath and stepped out to call down upon ourselves the full attention and wrath of Squiddie.

What must he have been thinking? We'd been teasing him for days, killing, then crippling his envoys. He must have been furious, frustrated, ready to annihilate anything which smelled at all like us. When we appeared, a candle, a beacon in the otherwise empty valley of Kathmandu, Squiddie must have sped to us. Did he look around at all? Did he sense a trap? It is impossible to know the thoughts of a god at such a moment.

He did not spot the layers of patrolling dragons. Or, if he did, he did not concern himself with their unusual numbers. He did not notice their convergence on the valley we had abruptly appeared in. He took no notice of the adolescent dragons, ranged on hilltops above and around us.

Squiddie dived. Behind, above, below and all around him, dragons of all physically mature ages closed on Squiddie. Other than a small thrill at watching a mammoth Squid descend from the clouds at a good rate in our direction, we were excluded entirely from the battle. I must state for the record here that I was overjoyed to be uninvolved, except as a spectator.

Watching this battle was grisly in the extreme. Squiddie may have been reduced by our earlier efforts, but he was by no means ready to go out without a fight. The adolescent dragons flew from the clouds to the large body of the god. They arrived first, and I realized that what toddlers could do on foot, adolescent dragons could do on the wing. Some landed on Squiddie's gargantuan head, gripping with front legs and raking with back claws. Others made a swooping pass alongside the god, by preference the face, but anywhere when the crowd as too large. They used both legs on the side nearest Squiddie, slashing out as they passed. We ducked back under cover as gore and nastier fluids rained down from the sky.

Squiddie still had a few tentacles left. He grabbed one dragon around the body, and might have killed it, but for the assistance of its classmates, whose attacks entirely removed the tentacle from Squiddie's body. The wounded dragon dropped, tentacle still wrapped around it, but other dragons guided it in, gnawing at the tentacle. The crash was spectacular, but I think everyone survived, except the tentacle.

I saw the tentacle regrow, after it died on the ground. The adolescent dragons stuck to the top of Squiddie's head after that, avoiding the tentacles. Older, more mature dragons focused on the rest of the god. They did not approach to use their claws. Instead, they exhaled onto the god. Whenever they did so, Squiddie visibly weakened. He had stopped descending to us, then had started ascending, in an effort to avoid the adolescent dragons. With each attack, his ascent slowed, then reversed and the god slowly, inexorably fell to the ground.

Part of the time, the dragon breath was flame, scorching the body of the god, healing as we watched, although more slowly as the battle progressed. The rest of the time, the dragon breath could not be seen, but those times, Squiddie dropped the fastest, and his skin took on an even less pleasant tone. I believe poisonous gases must issue from the dragons mouths, possibly the gases that result from the flames that are emitted the rest of the time.

Squiddie crashed, not far from us. We briefly debated joining the battle on the ground, but decided that we weren't needed for that. I pointed out that we stood a good chance of dying as a result of friendly fire, so to speak, and that convinced the rest that sitting this one out was the better part of valor. The dragons kept at Squiddie, who continued to struggle. We saw more adolescents leave the scene with assistance. After the third one, the older dragons ordered the younger away. The adolescents did not leave willingly, but they did leave.

The valley below us was awash in blood, dragon and squid. Pieces of ripped flesh, limbs, gore and a disgusting black fluid that came from Squiddie speckled the overwhelmingly red pools below us. The smell was awful, and it got worse as the afternoon progressed. Malifica dispatched a messenger to check on us, and deliver first aid if needed, and food. We hadn't had a chance to be hurt, and the thought of food made me retch, literally. Some of the others ate, but I could barely sip a mug of the hot tea.

Squiddie, like the tentacular bits we had dealt with earlier, died only after he had been turned into a lot of very small pieces. By then, I had returned to the conference room below the town offices. Within hours of the last sighted twitch from the main body of the god, a runner came from the small valley in which we had fought the tentacular creatures, and left them wounded, attended by toddler dragons. The runner said all the tentacular creatures had died abruptly and gave a time close to the end of the battle against Squiddie. I believe we have succeeded.

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Copyright Rebecca Allen, 1999.

Created: July 8, 2012
Updated: July 8, 2012