Wayward venture wayworld.., p.1
Wayward Venture (Wayworld Book 2), page 1
Wayward Venture
Wayworld, Book 2
by
T. Daniel Sheppeard
©2018 T. Daniel Sheppeard
All Right Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, and events are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, or events, is purely coincidental. Any resemblance to other imaginary persons, places, or events, by other artists, is likewise coincidental, and frankly, a little freaky.
Cover design ©2018 T. Daniel Sheppeard
Telegrafico font by ficod: ficod.deviantart.com/
www.tdaniel.com
to:
Everyone who enjoyed Diggory’s World
and demanded a sequel.
My family, who give me a reason to live
and therefore write.
Happy Birthday, Q
Preface
This book is the second in the Wayworld Series. While the story stands on its own (at least, I’d like to think it does), everything will make more sense if you’ve read its predecessor, Diggory’s World.
Diggs isn’t any kind of surrogate for myself. Indeed, the two of us have little in common. And yet, after I finished Diggory’s World, I realized I empathized with his plight. Though he and I are very different people, our journeys have been very much alike: a search for a sense of belonging and meaning in a world we were never really a part of. Maybe you feel that way, too. Or maybe I’m an oddball?
Still, this book is meant to be entertainment, plain and simple. We all need a little relief, a little escape, as we make our journeys. I hope this book can be that for you. If so, that’s all I can really ask.
— T. Daniel Sheppeard
1:Clicksville
He almost stabbed me with the spear.
I danced out of the way at the last moment. The tall man with the sleek and powerful build grinned slyly through his sandy-colored beard, undaunted. I stepped past his thrust, placing myself too close for him to easily bring his spear back for another attack. Before I could congratulate myself, he swept his weapon down and around to catch my legs, forcing me to block with my own spear rather than counter-attacking.
My opponent spun about, bringing the butt of the spear around and jabbing me in the ribs. My air rushed out. He brought the spear down like a club, forcing me to block again.
He paused. I waited for his attack. He stepped once and lunged.
I backpedaled, blocking thrust after thrust, struggling to keep up with his attacks. Each one came a little quicker, and I knew he’d soon slip past my defenses.
His face showed little emotion beyond glimpses of amusement. He was playing with me—he could finish me easily, and knew it. I had no hope of winning—unless perhaps I did something desperate…
I reversed direction and rushed forward as he made another thrust. Neatly, I deflected his spear with my own and sprang, stabbing at his chest.
The man turned and let my spear slide by. Now I was off-balance, having placed all my weight forward. At the same moment, he released his spear with one hand and extended that arm out, catching me across the shoulders.
My shoulders stopped; my feet kept going. I fell hard on my back, pushing out what was left of my breath.
My opponent followed my fall with his weapon, bringing the tip mere inches from my neck. He looked at me impassively.
“You should have died a long time ago,” he said.
I squinted up at him, gasping for breath. No escape. One little poke, just an inch deep, would end me. He had played with me long enough. Now, I was at his mercy.
Levi Bentley looked at me a few moments before planting his spear, smiling, and reaching down to clasp my hand.
“Seriously, Diggs, how did you survive out here on your own?” I accepted his help up.
A few years ago, I had arrived on Wayworld, drawn and trapped by unknown forces (like every other sapient being I’d met here). I spent a lot of time alone in the wilderness before finding a human colony.1
“I keep telling you: it was mostly dumb luck and climbing trees.”
Levi laughed. Over the last half-year, he and his wife Cordelia had become two of my best friends.
“Your footwork’s improving, but you still parry too wide. You don’t need to push my attack so far away. If I miss by an inch, that’s as good as missing by six.”
Levi’s entire family had been trained to fight by his father, Morgan—a survival expert, martial artist, and former Navy seaman. Morgan and Levi had undertaken teaching me better fighting and hunting skills. I was proving a poor student.
“What’s worse,” he continued, “you’re too passive. You keep waiting for me to make a move. You spent almost the whole time responding. Take initiative! Stop fighting my fight. Make it your fight!”
“Yeah, I tried that. Ended up on my butt.”
“No, you ended up on your back.” He chuckled. “That’s worse.”
“You mock, but I killed three telak all by myself.”
“Through dumb luck and climbing trees?”
“Entirely.”
Levi already knew the stories. The fearsome, saber-toothed monsters still haunted my dreams. According to those who knew them, the telak were among Wayworld’s deadliest predators. I wore a necklace with the eight-inch fangs I’d pulled from their jaws. They got me a lot more respect than I deserved.
“Seriously, Diggs. It didn’t work out this time, but your taking the initiative was the only time in the match you ever had a chance. Playing it safe is never as safe as it feels.”
Playing it safe. I smirked. Most of my life I’d specialized in playing it safe—taking the easy road. I took one huge, whopping chance, in a vain attempt to save a woman I thought I loved, and wound up here, untold light-years from Earth.
We brushed ourselves off and returned to the team, who were waving us over to lunch around the campfire. I sat next to Grant, who handed me a roasted leg of something and a cup of porridge made from boiled, mashed roots.
Grant Bader was a geologist. He’d wanted to see the area I’d dubbed the Shattered Plain, and had asked to come on our trip. He was slight-built and wiry, his head grey where it wasn’t bald.
“What do you think so far?” I asked him. He glanced over his shoulder at the spider-web of cracks and crevices that laced the field.
“Interesting. Never seen anything like it. Not here, not on Earth. Those fissures aren’t patterned how I’d expect from an earthquake. And being this deep I’d expect them to stretch further, but it’s entirely localized. I’m looking forward to climbing down there and getting a better look.”
“Well, all the plants and animals are different here, why not earthquakes?”
“Because of physics.”
Grant’s brother-in-law Louis grabbed his meal and sat across from us.
“How far’s this village you’re visiting?” he asked around a mouthful.
While Grant and Louis played science, the rest of us would head north to the town where I had first found evidence that led me toward Perdita.2 (That evidence was a chicken, by the way, but that’s a story for another time.3)
“Three or four days, tops, based on our last trip.” I had traveled from the village to Shattered Plain once before.
Louis gave me thumbs-up. “That’ll give us lots of time here.”
We finished lunch and prepared for our journey to Clicksville (I coined the name in response to the several click sounds found in its actual name). Clicksville had a supply of metal, and a wide variety of domesticated livestock, both of which were scarce for Perdita. We’d hoped to establish trade, so I had samples of our village’s wares loaded onto my pack animal, Debbie. I was joined at her side by the grey-green form of Ankosh.
Ankosh was the strangest creature I’d ever met: some sort of colony organism, Ankosh could rearrange his cells to assume many shapes. Now, he held the vaguely man-shaped form he typically wore around humans.
“Did Diggory learn much with Levi?” he asked.
“Hmm. Maybe. Suffice to say, I’m glad Levi is my friend, and not my enemy.”
“Ankosh is also glad Levi is a friend. But why would Levi be an enemy to Diggory?”
“He wouldn’t, Ankosh. I’m just saying he’s a better fighter than I am.”
“Ankosh is a better fighter than Diggory, correct?”
“Much better. I’m glad you’re not my enemy, too.” As alien as Ankosh was, he was my best friend. We’d traveled together, and fought alongside each other, and he’d saved my life more than once.
The three of us bid farewell to the two scientists, who were already setting up climbing rigs to descend into one of the fissures on Shattered Plain. Levi, Ankosh, and I headed north, leading Debbie and loaded down ourselves.
It was cool for a summer afternoon. Furry lizards (called hodo) scampered among the teal leaves of “feather-ferns4” and the various flying creatures of Wayworld (none of them true birds) flitted about overhead. A scent like maple emanated from nearby flowers.
Between Ankosh and myself, we had little trouble retracing the path we had taken earlier that spring. My amorphous friend and I had stayed at Clicksville for a few weeks, earning money to buy supplies.
The surrounding land grew hilly, and more densely packed with trees. We sto pped and set up camp as the sun kissed the horizon. Too late to hunt or forage, we ate from our supplies and bedded down for the night.
The next day, we skirted the edge of a small river. “You suppose this feeds into the same river south of Shattered Plain?” Levi asked.
“No idea. You’re our orienteer-er… orienteer-ist… our orienteering guy—what do you call someone who does orienteering?”
“Exceptional.” Levi grinned. “If it does, boating might make trading with Clicksville easier. If Louis is right, trading with that Black Banks place could be an option.”
Louis had been a hydrologist on Earth. He and our resident geologist had both speculated the river Levi mentioned might be the Ovitan—the “big river” which ran through the middle of the lands I’d traveled when I’d first arrived. Black Banks was a market town there.
“Not with it flowing right through kralsnar territory.”
The kralsnar were bloody-minded savages who performed terrifying raids, killing, stealing, and destroying. I had fought them a few times, nearly dying at least once. I had numerous scars to remind me of the battles. The people of Perdita had moved several times after arriving on Wayworld before they found hospitable lands free of the monsters. Strangely though, I owed a debt to the vicious brutes: I might never have found Perdita had I not rescued a human girl from the kralsnar.
A day and a half later, we came to familiar territory. I had hunted in the woods surrounding Clicksville, and recognized a trail which led right to the village. We followed the trail, picking up our pace, our goal nearly in sight.
We came to a ridge overlooking the valley. As we crested it, I flung out my arms and said, “Levi, welcome to Clicksville!”
Except Clicksville wasn’t there.
I looked down on the burnt and demolished remains of the city. The once-rich farms were trampled and scorched. Only then did I notice the silence: gone were the calls of livestock and the murmur of the market.
Levi spoke quietly. “Diggs, are you sure this is the place? Ankosh, how about you?”
“Yes,” we both said.
“Let’s check it out,” said Levi. “Be careful.” By which he meant ‘be armed’. I pulled out my alien gun. Levi readied a flintlock pistol.
Yes, I said flintlock pistol. I was on a distant planet full of blue plants and exotic aliens, and my companion had a flintlock pistol. There’s a good explanation, but I’ll come back to that later.
We picked our way down the ridge and crept carefully among the ruins. The destruction was thorough. Levi crouched to inspect prints in the ashes, but I already knew what we would find. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
Kralsnar.
Clicksville had been the home of three allied species. Among them were an enormous people called twug. I would have thought even the kralsnar would have trouble defeating them.
“Sorry. Looks like our trip was wasted. We should clear out; head home.”
“Let’s look around first,” Levi said. “Maybe there’s something left.”
It may sound callous, sifting through the houses of the dead, but this was survival. We couldn’t pass up the possibility there might be resources we could use. There weren’t many buildings left to search. We poked through the ruins, finding only a few tools and some stored vegetables.
“Levi, isn’t it odd there are no survivors, yet no bodies?” I asked. “Do you think they all escaped?”
“Seems unlikely, but I can’t dismiss the possibility.”
We searched a while till we came to a mostly intact cottage on the far end of the village. I peeked in.
It was full of bones.
Some were nearly-intact skeletons. Others were odds and ends: skulls, ribs, spines. Some were undoubtedly twug. Some looked almost human: they must have been narvim. I wasn’t sure if the third species inhabiting the town had bones at all.
I called out to my comrades, who came to inspect.
“They’ve all been burnt,” Levi remarked, “but they weren’t burnt in here—there’s no sign of fire or smoke.”
“Have you ever heard of kralsnar doing anything like this?” Both Levi and Ankosh shook their heads. “Maybe this wasn’t kralsnar.”
“Maybe not, but they were definitely here.”
“Chizan!” came a cry from one side. We turned, weapons poised.
“Chizan!” shouted the figure before us. It was a slender, hairless being with bright red skin: a narvim. The narvim were humanoid, one of the few species I’d met on Wayworld that could ever pass for human, if only at a distance.
“Chizan fazi kela!,” she called.
“The narvim says to stop,” explained Ankosh. He had learned their language—Dwabi—some time before I’d met him. I had only picked up a little in my time living there. I slung my weapon over my shoulder and gestured for Levi to holster his.
“Ankosh, ask her if we can help.” Ankosh spoke to the narvim, who looked closely at us both, pointed to me, and stepped closer, with a pronounced limp.
“Hu-man? Uvi ma [click] zizimasi? Ba Ankosh chich kas Stergad?”
“The narvim remembers Diggory and Ankosh working for Stergad.”
“What’s her name?”
“Imos u[click] basif?”
“Chantona,” she said.
I pulled on my small command of Dwabi.
“Chantona, we are friends.”
* * *
Over a hastily prepared meal, the narvim woman recounted her ordeal. As we’d surmised, kralsnar attacked her village, about a ganulan5 ago. Though they often engaged in hit-and-run raids with small parties, this was a full-fledged assault. Chantona hurt her leg in the attack, and a falling cottage trapped her. By the time she’d dug her way out of the debris, the attack was over and the village empty—its inhabitants slain or driven away.
She was unsure how many, if any, survived, or if any were taken by the marauders. None had returned. She had eked out a survival scavenging the remains for food.
The bone house was her work. To honor the dead, she had burned the bodies and gathered their bones together. Normally, all three species buried their dead, but she wasn’t up to digging graves. When she’d first seen us, she’d thought we were disturbing the remains, hence her crying out.
“Should we offer to bury the bones for her?” I asked Levi.
“I don’t think we should stay here,” he replied, “especially if there are that many kralsnar in the area. Getting home quickly would be a good idea.”
“We’ll take her with us, right?”
“If she wants to come, sure.” He asked Ankosh to translate. “Chantona, our people live about a twelve-day journey south of here. We need to return home. You are welcome to come with us. We will make sure you have food and shelter.”
“Can you help me look for my people?”
“Maybe someday. I can’t make you any promises. But you will be safer living among our people than here on your own.”
“Yes, of course.” She paused a moment. “I can leave whenever you’re ready. I have nothing left here.”
Within half an hour, we left the ashes of Clicksville and headed south once more. Chantona couldn’t walk without pain, but consented to be carried piggy-back. Debbie, for all her docility, refused to be ridden. Ankosh did most of the carrying, as he could reshape himself to bear the load well. Levi, ever the impressive picture of masculinity, could carry her for a lot longer than I could.
Naturally, carrying a ninety pound person slowed our journey. Except for Ankosh, we couldn’t walk as fast with the added weight, and we had to rest often. Each night, we posted a watch to guard against marauders. Kralsnar were totally blind, navigating by smell and sound, so night was no impediment to them.
Aside from her limp, Chantona was also weak, having had little to eat since the attack. We gladly gave up some of our own rations to her. We did no hunting, not wanting to take any longer to get home than necessary.
Several days later we returned to Shattered Plain. Finding our fellows was easy, mainly because Grant came running up to us, excitement in his voice.
“Boys! Boys! You’ve got to see this! There are caves down there with writing! And a door that’s—Oh! I see you’ve brought a new friend.”
