The Land of Broken Roads

Ancient Things - Chapter 8



Socks raced with the same effortless speed as before, but there was no mirth in it this time. The wolf’s demeanor was subdued and anxious, and Dirt could feel it even though Socks wasn’t talking. Dirt’s own heart was mostly full of concerned sympathy—he had never seen Socks like this and he didn’t know what to do about it, other than try and smother him in affection. And that wasn’t possible right now, not running at a speed that would shatter every bone in Dirt’s body if he fell.

As they ran farther and farther, Dirt watched as the unending, impossibly tall trees slowly changed. It was subtle at first—they grew shorter, and periodically a spot of blue became visible for only an instant. Dirt wished he could sit up and look around properly, but he didn’t dare try. Not without asking first and trying it while going slower, and this didn’t seem like a good time.

The edge of the great forest came into view. Dirt nearly did sit up to get a look then, and if not for the rushing air, he might have. From the corner of his vision, he saw the approaching line in the sky where it went from unbroken green to unbroken blue. There were no trees past it; at least, none big enough to see.

He’d had no idea there was an ‘outside’ to the forest. But everything got so much brighter ahead that he found himself suddenly wanting to stop, to not cross that threshold. It wasn’t safe out there without a real sky.

But they didn’t stop. Socks never slowed.

The sun burst out from behind the eternal trees and fell on him in all its fury, too painful to even look at. Every inch of his dirty skin, from the soles of his feet to the tips of his ears, warmed in the light’s heat. He had to squint to see anything and his good eye hurt anyway, way deep in the back. But he couldn’t just shut it. There was too much to see.

There were little trees everywhere, of every shape and color, but they were all tiny. Too small to be called trees. Socks had to pick the ones he went under, and most of them he had to go around. Some grew thick, with leaves like thousands of needles. Others grew tall and thin, or in every direction at once. Flat and thin, curved and straight, wide and narrow—simply too much to keep track of.

Shadows, too. Lines of light and dark all over everything. He’d never seen a shadow before, but every single thing had one and he had no time to get used them. No ferns, either. None at all. Instead, grass and bushes and big patches of bare earth and rocks. Leaves of bright green, dark green, muted blue, or even purple made up the confused landscape. Everything raced by too fast for Dirt to get a good look, and soon he started feeling dizzy. It was all too much. The empty sky, the bright sun that was impossible to get away from, plants in unending variety.

But he couldn’t look away. He couldn’t look away for an instant. The uneven ground became hills, and the scenery started changing so fast he couldn’t remember the last thing he’d just seen.

No wonder Socks lived out here somewhere. This was a place where anything could appear, unending variety in every direction. The forest was sacred and solemn and empty, and everything there but the trees and the ferns was just visiting. Out here, though, who knew what to expect?

Dirt stopped being able to tell things apart. His mind was simply too overwhelmed to keep up and it was all turning into a blur. He felt a little nauseous and hoped his grip on Socks was strong enough. Finally, he closed his good eye, hoping that not looking for a moment would help him recover.

Socks stopped abruptly, so quickly that Dirt almost slid forward and fell off. -I think you need a drink of water. You should be healthy when you meet Mother, but you are dizzy and confused.-

“Thanks. There’s just too much to see. I’m just… it’s too much.” Dirt slid off and landed on his feet, but not gracefully. It was a bit of a drop, after all. The ground was hard and poky here, with lots of sharp little rocks and bits of wood, and he danced around and hissed in pain.

-You are soft,- said Socks.

“I bet you were just as soft when you were four days old,” replied Dirt. “What is that sound? Oh…!”

Just ahead was more water than Dirt had imagined could exist at once. It rushed along in a great stream, too wide to jump across. A river. This was a river! Dirt got on his hands and knees and crept up to the edge of the water, nervous about how fast it was moving. The sunlight made it sparkle and flash, and shadowed spots let him see all the way to the sand in the bottom.

-Just drink. Don’t jump in or it will carry you away.-

“I’m not really thirsty anymore,” said Dirt. “I had plenty before.”

-Drink a little bit, then. It’s only water. You are hungry, aren’t you? I am too big to catch bugs for you, but I smell some eggs. Do you want some eggs to eat?-

“I don’t know what eggs are. Are they good?”

-I don’t know. They are food for small things like you. Wait here.- Socks turned and padded silently away.

A hundred quiet sounds rushed in once the pup was gone. Birdsong, gentle wind rusting in the leaves, taps and creaks and buzzing insects. It smelled different, too, like water and dust and pollen. It was far less humid, and the air lacked that heavy blanket-like quality it had back in the forest.

He decided he could use a bit of water after all, so he very carefully dipped his head down and slurped up a few gulps. He was so nervous about falling in that he didn’t even taste it, and once he’d swallowed enough he scooted three or four steps away from the edge, just in case.

It wasn’t too unpleasant out here. There was a gentleness to all the variety, like it was all supposed to go together somehow, following some pattern he hadn’t detected. That didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous, though. The forest was calmer than here by far, and look what had happened to him there.

Little bugs flew by, too tiny to tell their shape. They were like motes of sunlight, almost, flitting around with nervous speed. The sun on his legs felt nice, too. Warm. A little animal, no bigger than his hand, darted from one tree to another, too fast for Dirt to get a good look at it.

Socks politely rustled a bush when he got back so Dirt wouldn’t be startled again.

-Here, little human. Eat these.-

The pup opened his mouth and unrolled his tongue to reveal four round, white balls. Dirt took them, rubbing their hard, smooth surface with his thumbs. They didn’t seem like food.

“How do I eat them?”

-They are full of juice inside. The goblins knock a hole in the top with a tooth, then another hole in the bottom, and suck it out. They do not eat the shell.-

Dirt took one and tilted his head back. He knocked the shell against one of his sharper teeth. It didn’t work.

-Harder, silly little human. But not too hard or it will come apart.-

Dirt knocked it harder, then harder, and harder again, and finally he punched a little hole in the bottom. He flipped it around and tap, tap, crack. He put his lips around the hole and sucked, and the liquid inside oozed slowly into his mouth and down his throat. It had a mild flavor, and it was pleasantly warm—either from being in Socks’ mouth or from having sunlight on it before that.

He ate the second one in the same way and decided two were enough. “I feel a lot better. I think you were right. I just needed something to eat, and a moment with my feet under me. Two is enough for now, though. Is it okay if I hold on to the other ones?”

-No, you will break them on my fur, and it will be somewhere hard to lick off. Just eat them or throw them away.-

“Can I break it open?”

-We should not make Mother wait. We do not want her to be annoyed with us.-

“Oh. Right. I’ll hurry.” Dirt quickly cracked one open with his fingers and was surprised to find it had two parts inside—a yellow part and a clear part. The yellow part made a little ball of its own in there, so he slurped it up and dropped the rest. The final egg cracked open and ran into the ground, making a little spot of mud. He licked his fingers clean and climbed back up on Socks, and they were off again.

Now that Dirt had some energy back, the scenery was far more interesting than before. He decided he liked the sunlight, but only so much or it would get tiring. Colors in endless variety flew past, and the rushing wind kept away all the other sounds. He sent bursts of enjoyment to Socks, and the pup seemed to lighten up a little as they went.

Another pup appeared with the same fur Socks had, gray and brown and white. It ran alongside, giving a curious eye to Dirt and sniffing his direction. Dirt thought “Hello!” for it, but the other pup didn’t respond. Instead, Dirt caught tiny snippets and whispers of a conversation between the two that went far too fast for him to follow.

The pups didn’t need words at all; instead, they sent complex ideas together in bundles. The small bits that Dirt could make sense of were strange, but not as alien as the tree dream. Scents, mostly—scents that felt like colors he had never seen and never would. A mix of scents, a collection of wordless ideas, and maybe a flash of shape or color. Dirt suspected that even if they slowed down and let him hear everything, he wouldn’t get anything more out of the conversation than he did now.

A third pup joined them, running on the other side. This one was a bit more reddish than the first two, and it only stayed for a short time after giving Dirt a good sniff.

Then a fourth, and a fifth, and before Dirt knew it, there were dozens. They trailed Socks, who seemed proud at the moment.

They passed a pile of cracked bones of countless shapes and sizes. Some were fresher than others and the whole pile stank like rot. Dirt got enough of a look to know he could never guess what they belonged to, and some were big enough he would have thought they were little-tree trunks if they weren’t heaped on a bunch of other bones.

Socks slowed to a trot and led the pack up a hill toward a flat rock as wide as a tree trunk, which rested above a smaller cave opening. That must be it. That was where Mother was, and where Socks lived with his brothers and sisters. Out front, pups played and chased and fought in the dirt. The area was so busy that the whole hillside was just sandy dirt. They’d torn up all the plants.

-You have not been rude before, but do not be rude to Mother,- thought Socks.

“I wouldn’t dare,” thought Dirt, and he meant it.

As soon as Socks carried him into the cave opening, the smell told him it was not a human place. The den stank of predator; like Socks but stronger, and mixed with other things. A hint of urine, perhaps, and something spicy. The air was motionless, heady, and warm. His body filled with nervousness that came from a deeper place than his thoughts. This was a place of wolves. There was peril here.

It was dark inside. The only light came in through the entrance behind them, and it took Dirt’s eyes a moment to slowly adjust. The den was a cavern, big enough to hold every wolf outside and more, all at once.

And it needed to be. Mother was so large that Dirt wasn’t even aware he was looking at her until he found the yellow eyes. She was too large to make sense of. He couldn’t look at all of her all at once unless he got farther away.

Black as shadow, she lay on her side to nurse ten giant pups Socks’ size, who seemed tiny in comparison. Several more lay around her, patiently waiting their turns. Her head alone was bigger than Socks’ whole body, and her eyes were fixed on them in a way that made him glad he was riding, not walking.

COME CLOSER.

Mother’s voice in his head was so loud it replaced every other thought, every emotion. But it was only that loud, and no more—not loud enough to hurt. And Dirt was certain she could hurt him if she wanted. Just a little louder, and the contents of his skull would shoot out his ears.

Socks approached gingerly, unsure. He stopped right in front of her nose, and she leaned forward to sniff his face.

The sheer size of her, and the speed and grace with which she moved, unnerved him. It made him unsteady just looking at her.

LET HIM DOWN.

Socks squatted and Dirt slid off, landing feet-first on the soft dirt floor. No ferns, no leaves, nothing. He wondered why.

COME CLOSER, DIRT. STAND BEFORE ME.

The fear finally caught up with him. Her nose was so big she could snort him into her lungs with a sniff. He could hollow out one of her teeth and sleep inside it. He dare not approach. He knew he had to, but he couldn’t move. His feet wouldn’t obey him.

He clenched his fists and grit his teeth and tried to calm down, but to no avail. The terror inside him was so strong it was worse than pain. It was pain. He’d rather get punched a hundred times than face Mother.

Bursts of amusement filled his mind as all the other little pups started paying attention to what was happening. His head swelled with a dozen different images at once—some of him being eaten, sent to scare him; others of him being licked, sent to comfort him.

BE QUIET, ALL OF YOU. YOU WILL HURT HIM. DO YOU NOT SEE HOW FRAGILE HE IS?

She gazed around the room and the voices in his head quieted. Socks sent him a subtle puff of encouragement, and it helped. A little.

DIRT, IF YOU WISH TO REMAIN WITH MY CHILD, YOU MUST MASTER YOUR FEAR. I WILL NOT HAVE YOU TEACH HIM WEAKNESS.

That scared him in a very different way. It was one thing to be torn apart and die, but abandonment was beyond imagining. He couldn’t let that happen, no matter what.

Dirt focused inward, trying to force himself not to be afraid. The fear twisted in his stomach, gripped his joints with fiery fronds and held him still, breathed death into his mind. But he pushed it all away. He pushed again.

He looked up at Mother and stood up straight. The fear had not left him, but he was stronger. He had to be. A dribble of urine leaked out and his knees wouldn’t stop trembling. But he stood. He did not look away. He took a step forward, then another, and stopped.

BETTER. NOW, LET US SEE WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU.

Mother’s enormous yellow eyes fixed on him properly and her attention hit him like a full-body slap. Her sight penetrated his skin, his mind, and parts of his being he could not name. She turned him inside out.

Dirt felt his feet leave the ground as Mother’s gaze lifted him up into the air. It held him so tightly that he felt encased in wood. He couldn’t so much as twitch a finger. She twisted and pulled on invisible parts of him; parts of him that he could feel, real parts, but unseen ones. Much that she touched felt raw and painful, like the cut on his leg had.

She turned him over in the air, slowly rotating him this way and that to examine him from every angle. Now he knew what a grub felt like when he played with it. He would have whimpered if he still had control of his own voice.

After a few rotations, he had trouble staying conscious. Mother’s examination squeezed the energy right out of him. Or, perhaps, she stretched him and it leaked out on its own. Either way, what leaked out of him was hard to understand. His ability to focus, his inner control, and more.

She gazed into his memory and every moment he had lived flashed by in an instant. After seeing when he first woke covered in clear slime, it failed to go back any further.

Mother’s eyes flashed with orange light, and Dirt shuddered in mid-air. She examined him for a moment longer, but it was with senses that he could not perceive in any way.

When she finally lowered him to the ground and let him go, he collapsed so hard that his face was in the dirt before he realized he’d lost his balance.

She gave him no time to recover.

DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO YOU?

He tried to reply, but he lacked the mental strength to get the thought into the right place.

Mother saw it anyway.

YOU DO NOT. HOW INTERESTING. SUCH AN ARROGANT THING YOU ONCE WERE, AND NOW YOU ARE THIS.

-What was he before, Mother?- thought Socks. He had thought it with words, for Dirt’s sake.

HE IS A BIT OF ANCIENT DUST BLOWN BY THE WIND AND LANDING HERE ONLY BY ACCIDENT. I HAVE AN IDEA WHAT HE WAS ATTEMPTING, BUT IN DOING SO, HE LOST EVERYTHING. HIS MEMORY, HIS PLACE AND PEOPLE. EVEN HIS TIME.

Mother’s voice was accompanied by images that explained her thoughts in greater detail. Dirt saw an outline of an adult man, indistinct but all grown up, and knew that it was himself. He felt the sensation of being among many people, living in a place for humans. Saw himself undertake a great effort, something grand and momentous and dangerous and foolish, and fail. He saw himself sucked out of the world like the juice from an egg, floating in the incomprehensible void between all things while his essence, his very self, slowly evaporated. Bit by bit, there was less and less of him, until it was almost too late.

Finally, Dirt saw what remained catch on the flow of reality with a gentle snag. He fell back into time and place, appearing half-buried in the dirt and covered in the decay of his own self. That clear goo, the slime that he’d been covered with when he first awoke and completely forgot about, was the remains of what he had been. All the memory, the learning, the flesh, even the days and years—all had became nothing.

YOU WERE RIGHT, CUB. HE IS BROKEN. I AM SURPRISED HE IS ALIVE AT ALL.

Mother’s subtext was an egg with a dozen holes, slowly leaking its juices.

HUMAN, YOU HAVE ONE THING LEFT, AND THAT IS YOUR CORE. IT HAS GROWN AND IT CANNOT UNGROW.

Dirt saw himself peeling away in layers. His flesh, the child he was, split apart to reveal a boy of energy, all patchy and covered with holes. It split away to reveal a boy made of something even more subtle and just as damaged, and then split again, layer after layer until an image of himself appeared that was faint as a whisper and mostly transparent, damaged as the rest. That was his spirit, he knew. That was the part that remained when a person died.

But there was one more part inside that. His spirit split open to reveal a pinpoint of light, something subtle and eternal, something that never changed and never ceased changing. It was the deepest truth of himself, his bare consciousness. With none of the other layers, it thought without ideas, understood without knowledge or reference. But it was whole, indivisible, eternal, and it had grown.

YOUR SCANT HUMAN YEARS GAVE YOU SOME SMALL WISDOM, AND THAT ALONE IS NOT LOST. ALL ELSE IS BROKEN: YOUR MAGIC VESSEL, YOUR DREAM SELF, ALL OF IT. YOU RETAIN NOTHING BUT A FEW OF YOUR YEARS. BUT FOR THOSE, YOU WOULD NOT EVEN HAVE FLESH.

He lay in the warm dirt and tried to gather enough strength to push himself back up, but his joints felt watery and disconnected.

TAKE HIM FROM HERE BEFORE FATHER RETURNS WITH MY DINNER. PUT HIM BACK WHERE YOU FOUND HIM.

Mother’s great maw closed over him, and Dirt was too enervated to feel anything but a tinge of regret that this was how he would die. But instead of swallowing him, she lifted him gently between her front teeth and put him back on Socks’ back.

Socks quickly carried Dirt up and out of the musky den, back into the startling sunlight. The cub ran back down the hill, past all his curious brothers and sisters, past the pile of bones, then a good distance into the little-tree forest before Dirt recovered enough strength in his fingers to start holding on.

They ran for a good distance before either of them spoke. Dirt was too drained to pay attention to the scenery, which seemed like a shame. But every time he tried to focus, his mind wandered and his eyes saw nothing. His thoughts were full of wolves, full of Mother’s size, her gaze. But there was nothing sensible to process, not really. He felt like he did when he was falling asleep or waking up.

Socks, however, was tireless. Dirt wasn’t sure how he did it, but he’d been running for a good portion of the day without showing any sign of weariness. Carrying Dirt around didn’t even seem to slow him down.

The warm sunlight on his back helped Dirt re-energize, because by the time they reached the edge of the real forest and its canopy taller than the blue in the sky, Dirt had finally recovered.

The first real thought he had after all that, was that Mother had said to put him back where Socks had found him, and that meant he was being abandoned. Grief poured into him, brutal and irresistible.

But then it occurred to him that Mother had no reason to care about him. Something like Dirt was nothing to a being as great as Mother. If she didn’t want Socks to ever see him again, Dirt would already be dead.

He hugged Socks a little more tightly. Then he thought, “Mother is… more impressive than I imagined. Very powerful. And wise. You must be proud of her,” thought Dirt.

-She is very old and very strong. So is Father, but you should be glad you didn’t meet him. He has little tolerance for intruders and he probably would have killed you just for being noticed. I will be like them soon, when I grow up.-

“How come you never mentioned that you have a Father, too?”

Socks didn’t reply right away, and Dirt started feeling anxious that he’d asked something he shouldn’t have. When the pup finally answered, he seemed hesitant. -My brothers and sisters are all very young, so right now, Mother is in charge of us. She tells us the rules, and then she picks one or two every night and eats them while we’re sleeping. Someday when only a few are left, Father will take us and train us. He will pick one or two to grow up and eat the rest. That is why I was nervous about Mother today. But I obeyed her, so I can live for now.-

Dirt’s horror must have leaked out, because the pup stopped running.

Socks bristled and paced, and when he sent Dirt his thoughts, his voice was indignant and proud. -You are just a human, so I don’t expect you to understand. If some of you are weak or stupid, it doesn’t matter. Would anyone even notice? It doesn’t change the world. But we are wolves. You saw Mother. Father is just as great. Can you imagine a weak wolf? An inferior wolf running with them, hunting with them, calling himself a worthy wolf? I could never tolerate an inferior wolf. I’d be happy to die, if it meant that one wouldn’t exist. I think I’ll win, but maybe I won’t, and I won’t even feel bad about it.-

Dirt felt properly chastened. He couldn’t understand it, not without a lot more thought, but he could feel how strongly Socks believed it and that was enough. He nuzzled the good side of his face into the pup’s fur, trying to apologize. “I have a lot to learn about wolves. I have a lot to learn about everything. I’m glad you’re smart.”

Socks began running again, and it seemed the pup had forgiven him, or at least moved on. -Mother said I should keep visiting you since you give good advice. But she also said that if you try to tame me, she’ll kill you. I am a wolf and she will not let you make me into something else.-

“When did she say that?”

-When she was looking at you. She talked to me during that. She can talk to all of us at the same time if she wants.-

“Well, I don’t know what taming means, so I wasn’t going to try.”

After being out in the sunlight, the real forest seemed darker than he remembered, but that calm, eternal atmosphere was the same. The humid air that hung heavy and pressed down on him, the silent ferns and trees so tall that the sun had to go around them. Dirt was relieved not to have open sky above him anymore—now he could get rid of the nagging feeling that he might just fall up into the sky if he turned the wrong way.

Soon enough, they’d be back at Home, and Socks would leave, and Dirt would spend the night huddled alone in his little hole. He suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about all the wolf pups cuddled up with Mother to sleep, all warm and snug and happy. It was very different from what Dirt got.

“Socks, are there other humans in the world? Do you know?”

-Mother said they were pests, so there must be some somewhere. But I don’t know where. Why? Do you want to go live with them?-

Dirt panicked, unsure how he felt. But he thought, “Maybe someday, but not now. Maybe when we’re both grown up, I’ll go be a human, and you’ll be a wolf. Right now, you’re a puppy and I’m a child. And I don’t…”

He paused, almost embarrassed to say what he was thinking, but it needed to be said. “I don’t want you to die. I don’t want Mother to eat you. It makes me sick just thinking about it. You’re my first and best and only friend, so I’ll stay as long as you want me to. Besides, carrying me around will make you stronger, right?”

Socks sent him a hint of amusement. -You aren’t very heavy.-

“Well, then maybe I’ll just have to get as strong as a wolf so we can train together.”

-Not likely.-

Dirt giggled. “Can you even imagine?”

The rest of the run to Home was full of mirth and rapid conversation. The two of them were swept up in the most wild imaginings. They hardly even used words; they sent direct images of ridiculous things like Dirt jumping higher than Socks could, or Socks drinking a whole river and peeing it out somewhere else. By the time Socks knelt to let Dirt slide off, the day was already starting to dim and Dirt felt warm inside and out. The day had been just as terrifying as all the others, but Socks licked him on the face and made him laugh, and that was all his heart needed to recover.

But before Socks left, the pup perked his ears up and stood alert. After a moment, he said, -Mother says to take you somewhere tomorrow. She says it will be good practice for me to try to keep you alive.-

“Where?”

-You’ll see tomorrow.-

“Should I be scared?”

-Probably.-

“Well, I’m not. I’ll see you tomorrow. I hope we can stay together for a really long time. And please tell Mother thank you for what she told me. I was too tired to say it before. I think it was an honor for someone like her to even notice me, let alone tell me things I wanted to know. So please tell her thank you. Good night, Socks. See you tomorrow.”

-Sleep well, little human. Little Dirt.-

Dirt crawled into his den and collapsed, falling asleep before he even quit moving.


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