Goron grimaced at the mention of Blodwen’s name.
“All living things were Blodwen’s lovers. She had many children, mothra, slaug, human, boggart, and toadok among them. The two gods quarrelled. Murdus disliked many of Blodwen’s children. They were unkind to the trees, and he tried to kill them, but Blodwen fled with her offspring deep into the forest. Perhaps if you talk to her, she may be persuaded to return if Murdus promises not to harm her children.”
“There’s a bit of a problem there,” Goron said rubbing the back of his neck and staring at his feet. “I ah…I sort of chopped...um.. killed her by accident.”
Morwen didn’t think Senuna’s eyes could get any bigger, but they did.
“You killed the mother?” Senuna said.
“It was an accident. I needed wood to make a fire for this deer I killed, so I chopped down this big, old willow tree which her lifeforce was somehow linked to.”
“You…you felled the lifetree?” Senuna was shaking uncontrollably. Her voice wasn’t bewitching anymore and sounded like the buzzing of hundreds of flies.
A mournful wail came from the mothras in the trees, and they fluttered into the air.
“How was I to know?” Goron was bright red and droplets of perspiration formed on his forehead.
“Murdus was right about you humans. “You’re better off dead,” Senuna spread her wings sending forth a dust storm of scales. She snatched up Morwen and soared into the air.
She’s going to fly as high as she can and drop me. Morwen snapped out of her trance-like state and shouted down to Goron, “Thanks! You murderous, horny oaf.”
“Sorry,” he yelled as he thudded to the ground after flinging himself into the air to try to grab Senuna’s wing.
They were above the trees when a tentacle grasped Senuna. The mothra queen beat her wings and scratched helplessly.
The tentacle squeezed. There was a strangled cry, that sounded anything but bewitching, and a squelch. Morwen was squirted with insect guts, then she fell. Branches tore at her robe and skin and bashed her bones. The merciless ground rose to meet her.
Morwen shut her eyes and waited for the impact. She felt her waist gripped firmly, and she hovered in mid-air. Visions of being squeezed out of her skin like a paste swirled beneath her eyelids, but she was being caressed and lowered gently to the ground. She opened her eyes. It was Zooktuk. His tentacles whirred above her as he swatted and squashed the swarm of mothras. The last few fragments floated to the ground, and Morwen looked around her. A giant bowl of mothra soup had been dropped from the sky into the clearing.
“No hurt Morwen,” Zooktuk said beaming down at her.
“Thank you, Zooktuk, I guess.” Morwen surveyed the carnage and sighed. None had survived, another creature to add to her growing list of extinct species. Twinges of remorse pricked her. She began to feel guilty. Murdering the sick and dying was one thing, but genocide was so much more sinister.
“Delicious,” Szat said scooping up a warm, yellow glob of mothra goo and plopping it into his mouth. His colour was back to normal and so too was his appetite.
“We need to find Murdus and kill him. Though, I don’t like our chances of fighting a god without our weapons.” Morwen raised an enquiring brow and shot a sideways glance at the charybdis.
“Zooktuk no kill gods.” Zooktuk thrust a tentacle holding an axe and a staff at Morwen and Goron. “Zooktuk found.”
Morwen didn’t know if she should feel creeped out at being stalked by a one-hundred-ton monster.
She decided to be grateful instead. “You’re a good friend, Zooktuk,” Morwen said accepting the staff. “The ruins will be as good a place as any to start.” She began to walk along the river. Szat and Goron followed.
“No, Zooktuk carry friends, much quicker,” Zooktuk said extending a tentacle.
The lazy motion of their transport lulled the travellers into silence. Morwen gazed through half closed eyes as dusk gently painted the sky with the colours of ash and blood. Goron sat upright, his mouth pressed into a tight line and his eyes lifting from his axe only to scan the shadowy tree line. Szat dozed lightly, occasionally smacking his lips.
Zooktuk safely transported the trio to the ruins of Victain. He would wait for them on the river’s bank, resting in the slivers of remaining sunlight until their business with Murdus was concluded, and then ferry them to Wichsault.
If there was any doubt about Senuna’s story, it was dispelled. Yellow, bilious clouds spewed out of the tower where they had slept only the night before and drifted across the still air in the direction of Wichsault.
“Right,” said Goron and stalked ahead. The warrior was sullen on his journey down the river, spending his time sharpening and polishing his axe. The blade reflected the ominous sky, bleeding with red light. Goron’s fingers opened and flexed around the handle. Morwen knew how deadly Goron was with the axe—Murdus didn’t know what was coming for him.
Goron was no doubt angry with her for yelling at him when he confessed to the destruction of the lifetree and the death of the goddess, Blodwen. Seriously though, what sort of moron cuts down a lifetree to make firewood? They’re as rare as fist-sized diamonds. To each one was tethered the soul of a god or goddess. Morwen stopped and rapped her knuckles on her head.
“Oi,” Szat said, falling from her shoulder and swinging on her hair as if it were a jungle vine.
How could she have been so stupid? Murdus was a forest god just like Blodwen. The only way to kill him was to cut down his lifetree. To challenge him in the flesh would be certain death. “Goron, come back,” she shouted. The warrior ignored her. Instead, he glared up at the tower, wreathed in yellow smoke, for one last time, and then ducked
