IRON GOD | 1: Peripeteia

[12] Haode: Nack in the Fog

            Despite her initial misgivings, Pileated Woodpecker was not impossible to convince. She told Haode she would spread the word, as her contacts were numerous, despite Felltree being a small community. "Anyone and everyone who's lost someone to Styzia," she had assured him. "We outnumber them. We will have our justice."

Then she had given them three horses and sent them on their way. The mares they now rode had once belonged to the village's defenders, all of whom had been killed by the sabretooth-masked monster. Like Peck and her children, they were named after birds. Haode tried to keep himself calm in the saddle. Letting Gyrfalcon pick up on his fear would only spell trouble.

He looked between the pale mare's tufted ears and saw a log in the path. She jumped over it with ease. Behind him, Ido's mount refused the jump. Ido shouted. Sparrowhawk pranced and tossed her head.

Haode looked over his shoulder. "Stop pulling so hard on the reins. That's how you tell a horse to stop, not go."

Ido's mount lunged awkwardly over the log. Dakko followed on Blue Heron. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"The Wash," said Haode. "Remember? The village below Styzia."
"That seems like the last place we'd want to be," said Dakko. "Well, except Styzia itself."

"The Wash probably provides Styzia's resources, due to its location," said Haode. "Which makes it an ideal ground to sow unrest."

Ido interrupted. "What if those people sympathize with them?"

Haode kicked his horse and snapped his head around to glare at Ido. "Anyone who sympathizes with those demons is brainwashed. We'll expose the truth."

"And how?" Ido asked.

"The truth," said Haode, "is that those monsters committed unspeakable atrocities in order to kidnap a girl, just like they kidnapped all of their so-called warriors." He looked up. "She, like all of their captives, will become the Masters' weapon. Qila and Xigon will set her like an attack dog on any who defy what they claim to be the Iron God's vision. And the cycle of oppression will continue." He clenched his hands around the reins. "That's how it will be."

"Sounds good," said Ido. "Surely they'll listen."

Haode couldn't tell whether or not Ido was being sarcastic. He decided not to press the matter. When he heard a trickle of water, he turned Gyrfalcon and rode toward it. The boys followed. They let their horses drink from the creek, then Haode led them downstream along the bank. "This must drain to somewhere," he told them. "And it could be a bluehole."

They rode along the half-frozen creek for quite some time. Haode ducked beneath the snow-weighted spruce and fir branches. Prickly green needles tugged at his hood every now and then. Below, Gyrfalcon's hooves punched holes in muddy slush. Occasionally she would slip and Haode would grab her white mane, startled and then relieved as she regained her footing.

The stream led them into a mist-shrouded bog. The trees grew shorter and scrawnier before vanishing altogether. The ground went from slush to damp moss and pungent black peat. Their horses' hooves squelched in the muck. Haode looked up. The mire stretched on as far as he could see. He took a deep breath. The air was earthy and noticeably warmer than the woods.

Something rustled in the shrubs. Haode jolted and yanked the reins. Gyrfalcon threw her head up. When Haode saw that it was only a muskrat, his panic subsided. Then he heard a chuckle behind him.

Ido rode up beside him. "Boss, that was only a muskrat."

Haode reached over and smacked him.