The Land of Broken Roads

After waiting a sufficient time for the humans to think themselves safe, Socks followed silently after them. They were just far enough that Dirt had a hard time seeing any of their thoughts, but Socks still could, and he would get closer once they relaxed.

-Share your taste and eat that human food,­- said Socks.

“I’m not that hungry right now,” said Dirt.

-No, you’re afraid of being disappointed that you don’t like it.-

Dirt scowled at the back of his friend’s furry head. Socks was right, of course, and Dirt hadn’t even realized he felt that way until the pup said it. He had enough of Prisca’s memories to picture low tables covered in delicacies of every variety, with sliced and arranged fruit, tender meats with rich sauces, fragrant wine. But that had been an eternity ago. That was the food of the Sunset Empire, which was all ruins.

No, the more he thought about it, he was getting nervous about humanity in general. What if they all just lived in holes in the ground now instead of grand buildings? What if they were all wary and dangerous? Dirt had deliberately avoided most of Prisca’s memories of people, but he still knew how they were supposed to act. Dignified. Graceful. Speaking in warm tones, telling stories or poems or discussing matters of state. What if all that was gone? Everything, not just the buildings? What if humans were little more than clever goblins now?

Dirt pulled out the ancient knife, blade still undulled and free of any blemish. He admired its perfect shine, the smooth curve of its blade, the delicate handle. Humans had made this. If this level of artistry, if painting and music and architecture and everything was gone now, he wasn’t sure he could bear to live among them.

-They still have cities. The woman is thinking about one, from when she was little. I think they’re looking for it. Now eat the bread. I want to taste human food and so do you,- said Socks.

Dirt braced himself internally and shared his sense of taste, then his sense of smell as well so Socks could get the full human experience. The bread was about the size of his fist, maybe a little bigger, but flat. It was thick as two fingers and rectangle-shaped, probably so the humans could stack and carry them easily. He sniffed it, but it hardly had any aroma at all. Something faint—a soft, warm smell, but hard to place.

He took a bite, or tried to. It felt like he should be able to bite right into this, that it should be soft or maybe chewy; he wasn’t sure. But it was hard as a plank of wood, and he had to grind off a corner with his teeth and get it wet with saliva to eat it at all. Once he did, the flavor was fine but not memorable. It was salty, which he’d never tasted before, and that helped bring out some of the grain and other mild flavors. But mostly it just tasted crumbly and dry and old, and he only had the patience to eat half of it. “Do you want the rest of this?” he asked Socks.

-No, there’s not enough there to bother. Why do you think they eat food like that? They had to make it and carry it all this way. Why not catch a rabbit and eat that?- asked Socks. The big pup felt disappointed, but more for Dirt than himself.

“I don’t know. Maybe they can’t catch any rabbits. Maybe they’re too slow and dumb,” said Dirt, his mood souring.

­-They were smart enough to make one of these,- said Socks, swinging his sword through a tuft of little round leaves on a bush, sending them flying.

“That’s a good point,” Dirt admitted.

After that they crept along for a while, following the humans. Socks said they were still being wary, so he kept a bit too far back for Dirt to get a clear image of their minds, making it hard for him to learn anything.

But since he was watching already, Dirt’s mind-sight found a small flock of little birds resting in the high branches of a tree nearby, happily chirping to each other and keeping an eye out for danger. The humans were slow, which meant Socks was creeping so quietly that the birds didn’t notice until he and Dirt were right underneath.

“Wait!”

Socks stopped and lowered slightly. -What is it? Oh, birds again?-

“Yes, but this time I have an idea. I’m going to watch how they decide where to land.” Dirt prepared himself, focusing on the little bird-minds as clearly as he could, then clapped to startle them. It had the desired effect and put them to flight.

Socks silently followed them to the next tree, where they landed again after deciding that the boy and wolf down below weren’t much of a threat.

“One more time. Can you bark? Not loud enough the humans will hear.”

The wolf pup gave one short bark, which was probably too loud, but it was fine. The birds flew from that tree to the next, which were two smaller ones with dead branches on top for them to grab with their little feet.

-Did you see what you wanted?-

“I think so! There’s just one bird in front who picks where to land, and they all watch him. So I just have to make him think… Okay. Next time, follow under them, okay?”

-Okay.-

“Okay, one more bark.”

Socks barked again, amusement growing in his heart. The humans in the distance were interesting, but only for so long. This was starting to seem fun. Dirt patted him in agreement.

The birds flew again, and this time Socks quickly stepped out underneath them. The little flock flew over an open area and Dirt found the mind of the lead bird quicker than he’d hoped. It saw them below and had the thought, ‘danger,’ but Dirt told it ‘safe’ instead. ‘Safe, safe, safe,’ he repeated. The bird’s mind was too simple to realize the thought wasn’t its own, so it gave the faintest gesture mid-flight and the whole flock descended.

All at once, twenty birds no larger than Dirt’s hand landed everywhere, on his hair and shoulders, all over Socks’ fur. Dirt squealed in laughter at their tiny feet tickling his skin. Socks looked up at him and wagged his tail. ­­-They’re tickling my fur, too, and it makes me want to shake them off. But I won’t.­-

“Good, don’t! Not yet, anyway.”

They hopped all over, bouncing with both feet instead of walking. Some of them found crumbs from the bread and ate those with eager haste, and Dirt suddenly wished he’d kept the rest instead of tossing it. He needed a bag, he decided. He was starting to have things to carry.

Dirt held out a finger to mimic a tree branch and immediately one jumped up and landed on it, letting him finally get a close look. The handsome little thing was surprisingly colorful, with a black chest and beak and a line of red on its head that went down its back. Its cheeks were stark white, as were its tailfeathers, and its wings had streaks of red, brown, and black in them. It regarded Dirt with one eye, and a moment later, the whole flock took flight again and disappeared into trees farther away, across a patch of rocky grass.

-Do you want to keep chasing them?- asked Socks, wagging his tail.

“I think I have a better idea. Haven’t you wondered what all those little critters are that hide in the grass and run away whenever we get close? Let’s see if we can look at some of them.”

Socks sniffed the wind, then licked his nose to better feel which way it was moving. He snuck silently into the wind, so nothing could smell him coming. He moved slower than usual, being what he himself considered quiet, with his exceptional hearing.

He hardly had to go far for Dirt to find some good candidates, and only a little coaxing got the owners of the tiny minds to come out into the open where he and Socks could see them. Dirt jumped down to get a better look, making way too much noise and scaring half of them away. But not all. Dirt caught them with thoughts of safety just in time, and they resumed doing whatever it was they were up to before.

A mouse was the first, a furry, curious thing smaller than Dirt’s finger if he didn’t count its thin tail. When Dirt lowered his hand to maybe pick it up, it jumped on him and ran up one arm, across his shoulders, and into his hair, which got another squeal of laughter. The thing was digging around in there looking for food, and before it could find any, Dirt plucked it out and held it in his hand. It peeked at him and sniffed his scent, always moving, tiny heart racing. Then it jumped off into the grass and moved on, eager to be out of open visibility.

Another mouse, and another, and soon Dirt could pick their minds out from the rest. The next was a rat, much larger than a mouse but shaped basically the same. It moved slower and its tiny fur coat didn’t look as glossy, but its mind was bigger, making it easier to understand. Once it decided Dirt and Socks weren’t threats, it became relaxed, even playful and affectionate. Dirt considered keeping it as a pet but chose against it for now. There might be something better, and he had nothing to keep it in.

Plenty more mice and rats, all creeping through the grasses. Overhead, larger birds circled and looked for them, and once Dirt picked up a mouse only to have a hawk snatch it right off his palm and carry it away to eat. It happened so fast he didn’t have time to react before it was gone.

They found a little snake, a weasel, and some hidden kittens whose mother feline was off hiding somewhere, before Socks finally got bored and said, ­-Let’s go find something bigger. I want to eat meat.-

“What about the humans?”

-You weren’t paying attention to them right now anyway and they will be easy to find,-

“Are you sure you’ll be able to come right back here?”

-Of course. I can smell our trail. And even if I couldn’t, I can feel where we are.-

Dirt paused and looked up, meeting Socks’ eyes. The pup licked his face once, quickly, to tease.

“What do you mean you can feel where we are?”

-Look closely, and I’ll try to feel it clear enough for you to see,- said Socks. The pup turned his mental gaze to a sense that was so subtle and natural that Dirt had never noticed it before. There was a slight tug, or perhaps just a corrective influence, that guided him in one particular direction. Socks knew somehow how far right or left he was, how far forward and back, in relation to it. The sense was pervasive, constant, but so quiet that Socks never consciously thought about it. Until now, apparently.

-I just realized humans don’t have that. How do you get around?-

“Wait, this whole time, you could feel exactly where you were? Is that how you always know where you’re going?”

-Yes. How else?-

“I guess I just go toward things I recognize. And I thought Mother told you the way, or Father, maybe. I had no idea!”

-I never thought about it with you, since we are always going the same places. But those three humans have no idea where they are. The woman is trying to recognize things and remember, but they are lost. Once I realized that, it made me wonder how that was possible.-

Dirt looked around at the wilderness surrounding them, the lumpy hills with snaggly trees and thick brush, the bare, rocky mountains beyond. In truth, he had no idea where they were in relation to the dryad forest or anything else from longer than a day or two ago. “We used to put up signs with writing, and they’d say, ‘The water is that way, the town is this way,’” he said, remembering. “And there were maps, pictures drawn that would tell you where to go.”

-Perhaps humans build houses because they do not often have to travel. Wolves have to look everywhere for prey but apparently humans don’t. At least not as much.-

“The grain to make bread is grown in the ground so I bet you’re right. How about I follow the humans closer for a while so I can see their minds, and you go hunt? I’ll stay a little closer to them, but just enough to see clearly, and far enough not to get caught. I know you think it’s boring and I haven’t had a good look in hours.”

Socks looked back at him, somewhat surprised. -You don’t want to come?-

“No, I do, but I want to do this more. Maybe if I learn to talk with them, we can figure out where the city is they’re trying to find.”

-Fine, but if something comes, make your skin hard like we practiced and hit it with the staff.-

“I will. And if it’s something too dangerous I’ll run away.” Dirt stood and stepped up toward the pup’s ears, which he scratched vigorously before jumping down.

Socks leaned down and sniffed him, then said, ­-They are that way.-

“I know. I can see their footprints. Remember not to eat too many bones.”

-I’ll remember.-

Socks left at a run and Dirt watched him disappear toward the mountains. Up close, Socks was cuddly and friendly, and far away, he looked normal size. But there was a middle distance, where Dirt could watch him in comparison to little trees and things as he ran by, that Dirt could really feel just how big the pup was. He must be twelve feet at the shoulder now and his fuzzy gray puppy fur was slowly being replaced by sleeker, darker fur like the older ones had, and he ran with such eager grace that he seemed more shadow than animal. With such a busy landscape, he was soon out of sight.

It had been several weeks since they’d been more than a dozen paces apart and now it felt strange to be alone. Dirt carried the staff over both shoulders and followed the footprints. He noticed the humans tended to walk around hills instead of over them, and around thick brush instead of through it. Socks didn’t much care about either of those things and Dirt hadn’t really thought about it.

Dirt inhaled a little mana and started catching up. Between jumping over obstacles they’d gone around and running at a light, easy pace, it only took him a few minutes to get close enough to see their minds clearly, perhaps a couple hundred paces from them. He avoided going anywhere he could see for sure, since they’d be able to spot him if they did.

Now that he was close enough, he kept his eyes and ears open as much as his mind, listening for their sounds and avoiding stepping on anything that might make too much noise. He figured they only heard as well as he did, so if he didn’t hear them, they probably didn’t hear him.

Which was good, because this particular spot had a bunch of larger trees that shed bark and dead branches, which littered the ground here.

The woman, Marina, was taking the lead. Like Socks had said, she seemed to be trying to find a place from a long time ago. She remembered leaving that place, a city, in a hurry, and watching the mountains and landscape as they travelled. She had been scared then, and perhaps a child. The memories were faint and disconnected and it seemed to Dirt she’d filled in too much with imagination and was probably doing that right now as she strained to remember more.

The men were cross with her, too. They feared how far they’d come and resented her and each other. Their imaginations were filled with bands of naked savages swooping down out of trees to feast on their flesh. Tribe—tribu. Wild tribes, that’s what they meant, what they thought Dirt was.

He learned other words at a rapid pace, since the two men were having loud arguments in their minds with no one, and the woman was looking all over and thinking about the things she saw. Many words were similar enough to his language to reassure him they were indeed related—words like ‘muntanya’ for mountain or ‘riu’ for river. Some weren’t the same word but related to a similar one. Their word for grass was ‘herba’ and their word for clothing was ‘roba’. Dirt pieced out others, such as the words for he and she, but it was tiring and he started losing interest.

Dirt sat down to rest, even though it was just his mind that was tired. “Can I have some sap now, Home?” he asked the staff. As always, she couldn’t reply, but the sap started to appear on its side anyway. He could make sap with wood-shaping, but he preferred to wait until after dark for that when she was asleep. During the day, it was nice to know she was listening.

An earsplitting cry filled the air from above, making Dirt drop the staff and plug his ears. It sounded like one of the large birds that liked to circle overhead, especially near water, but the sound it made was lower in pitch and much louder. It punched right into Dirt’s most basic instincts, regardless of what he thought about it. Like when hearing Socks growl or seeing the undead move, his whole body screamed DANGER.

But he knew that sound. He looked up, seeking out the gryphon overhead. It didn’t take long to find—it circled above the humans, a couple hundred paces ahead through the brush. It flew with all four legs tucked in, which made it look like a regular bird, just enormous. This gryphon was reddish-brown in color with tips of gold on its wings and tail.

The humans’ mind filled with one word, standing out against white-hot panic: grifó. Well, that was another one Dirt knew, now. Gryphon was grifó.

Hèctor had one other word in his mind, though: espasa. The poor man felt helpless and naked without his sword and had no idea how he was going to defend himself. He started scanning the ground for weapons and picked up a rock.

That was the wrong thing to do. Dirt knew that from experience. Don’t pick up a weapon in front of a gryphon. He ran forward at top speed, burning mana to leap over trees and crash through brush like wet parchment hanging to dry. It took him only an instant to land in the middle of the surprised and terrified humans, but that was almost too late.

Dirt whapped the rock out of Hèctor’s hands just as the gryphon began its dive. Dirt hadn’t seen enough of the beast’s thoughts to get their flavor, so he improvised ‘friend! safe!’, as emotions, and fired that into its mind.

The gryphon reared back in midair, then landed a few paces away, confused. Dirt said, “Bon ocell!” which he hoped meant ‘good bird’ in the humans’ language. He wasn’t sure if it was the right kind of good, but the gryphon didn’t know either, so it didn’t matter. He corrected himself, “Bon grifó!”

Dirt stepped in front of Ignasi and Marina, waving his arm for them to stay back. He put down the Home-staff and stepped forward again, sending the gryphon feelings of warmth and happiness.

The beast was too big to be stupid, nearly as big as Socks was when they first met. It was smarter than goblins were, almost smart enough to understand that the thoughts weren’t its own. But not quite. Not quite. It finally accepted them and stepped forward to rub little Dirt with the top of its head.

Dirt happily patted and scratched it, which made it poof out its feathers in contentment. It kept a wary eye on the other humans, though, and Dirt finally saw enough of its thoughts to understand what made it so mad. They’d gotten too close to its nest, which was just a short distance to the side, uphill amongst an exposed slough of boulders.

Dirt turned back to the shocked humans to explain. Ignasi held two long knives and Marina a bow, but both were letting them droop toward the ground. Hèctor held the empty sheath of his sword up like he was going to fight with it.

“No allà,” said Dirt, pointing toward the nest. “No allà.” No there.

Then he pointed the other direction, away from it, downhill. “Si allà. Si. Anem.” Yes there. Yes. You go. Or at least he hoped that’s what he was saying.

He went back to scratching under the gryphon’s feathers. “Bon ocell, bon grifó.” As much as it enjoyed having its chest scratched, once it saw the three adults heading away, it gave Dirt a little bark and took off, returning to its nest to make sure everything was still fine there. It expected its mate soon, and the young were hungry. From how the gryphon thought of them, they must be the most adorable things in the world and Dirt badly wanted to go get a peek.

Unfortunately, that would be profoundly foolish, so he didn’t. He could probably defend himself against one, strengthening his skin against its talons and beak, but he’d rather not find out the hard way he was wrong.

The three adults had only gone a few paces before the gryphon took off, and once it was gone, they turned again to stare at him, almost too bewildered to think in words.

Dirt picked up the staff and found that Home had made him a big lump of sap despite all the commotion, and he picked some of the grass out of it and took a bite. Then he waved and left, grinning widely as he chewed, enjoying how it stuck to his teeth. Socks would probably be back soon anyway, and there was no reason to scare them all again. Yet.

One thing was sure—they’d be nicer to him the next time they saw him. Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after that, giving him enough time to learn more of their words. Silly humans, he thought. They seemed more helpless than he was, which was a new feeling. He grinned with pride and took another bite.