Part II:
The dark chamber glowed in a cascade of colours as the minerals in the water provided illumination to the otherwise gloomy scene. When Sky and Petrie followed the rest of the gang into the hole the river flowed fast but shallow, and the two flyers kept their heads above the water without too much difficulty. At the end of the chute, the two of them shot out of the tunnel and splashed down into a deep pool.
“Hey it not deep at all… me standing on the bottom!” exclaimed Petrie as he rose to his feet. Suddenly he came right up out of the water, and it became apparent that he was actually standing on Sky’s head.
“Umm… sort of,” corrected Petrie as Sky smiled slightly and rolled his eyes.
Around the two of them Ali and Spike were pulling themselves together, while Littlefoot was already climbing out onto the shore. Ducky seemed to be enjoying herself in the water.
“This is warm, it is!” the swimmer exclaimed happily as she splashed Spike, who still looked pale from their quick descent down the river tunnel. He didn’t like water that was too deep for him to stand in, especially if it was fast water. Ever since he nearly drowned during the first cold time he left the swimming to his little sister – the water was for drinking and nothing else.
“Hey it is warm… shouldn’t it be cold if it’s down this far?” asked Ali.
“This water system appears to be the product of underground heat… from where though I cannot tell,” explained Sky, “I suspect the rocks here have more to tell us.”
The wingtail waded onto shore and shook his wings to dislodge the moisture. They were wet and heavy, and until they dried for all intents and purposes he wouldn’t be able to fly. Looking around the cavern it was clear that he probably didn’t need to – the ceiling was so low a flyer of his size would have trouble manoeuvring in here.
“But rocks don’t talk…” began Ali, before realizing how foolish she sounded. Sky was just speaking figuratively.
“Oh of course they do Ali, you just have to know where to look.”
Sky picked up a shabby black looking stone and looked at it briefly, before tossing it aside and moving onto another. Littlefoot followed curiously, watching what he was doing. Spike climbed onto shore, and shook himself off. Ali followed and repeated the shake, unfortunately getting Spike wet again.
“Sorry,” apologized Ali as Spike grunted in displeasure.
“Sky,” asked Littlefoot, “who was that flyer that attacked us… and what did he want?”
“That was a self-obsessed wingtail known as Glide - we go back a long way,” answered Sky, “He was obviously after the Occular, speaking of which…”
The blue wingtail withdrew the eyeglass from inside his wing, and checked it for damage. It was certainly well-built as it hadn’t even suffered a scratch. Benzon must have really known what he was doing when he created it – either that or he was very lucky and got it perfect on the first try. Taking advantage of its bi-ocular nature Sky flipped it around so it would magnify the image for him, and looked closely at a very shiny rock he picked up.
“Hmm… visually pleasing,” commented Sky, “But, very impractical.” And he tossed the diamond into the water.
“But why does he want it so bad, it’s only a rock,” asserted Littlefoot, “And there’s plenty of rocks around if he really wants one.”
“It’s not that simple Littlefoot, not that simple at all,” Sky answered hesitantly.
“What is it Sky, what else is there?” Littlefoot pushed. Sky sighed.
“Very well, I suspect that Glide is not the only one who is after the Occular. Take those sharpteeth for instance… I fear that Tyron may also be onto us as well,” Sky explained, but Ali was confused.
“… Tyron? Who’s he?” Ali questioned.
“Tyron is the tyrant king of sharpteeth… the Occular used to belong to him but we wingtails took it back over a generation ago, for it was rightfully ours,” lectured Sky, “if those two who chased us answer to Tyron, then we may have another far more deadly foe on our tails then the one who attacked me up there.”
“But we’re safe down here right?” asked Littlefoot.
“Yes, yes, yes, the sharpteeth cannot swim, so they will never think to come down to where we are,” added Ducky.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” put out Sky as he listened to the pouring of the water out of the chute of which they all came out of.
A string of growls and snarls came echoing down the tunnel, causing the rest of the gang present to look up in alarm. The sharpteeth hadn’t found them yet, but there was a good chance they would come down looking for them. They had to be gone before that happened.
“Sharpteeth,” whispered Ali to Littlefoot.
“This way,” called out Sky, “we have to continue into the tunnels. I believe I know where we are, and with any luck we can find our way out before we are sensed.”
Obeying the wingtail’s prompt, the gang moved to follow him into the depths of the caves.
“But what about Cera, Chomper, and Ruby? We can just leave them up there!” Littlefoot said to Sky. The wingtail turned to him with a look of sincere sorrow.
“I’m sorry Littlefoot, but we don’t have much choice. Your friends will have to fend for themselves.”
Littlefoot took one last glance at the water chute they had entered the cavern with, before turning away. The three of them were on their own now, for better or worse. He only hoped they could keep together and look out for each other like he did. Maybe, someday, they would meet again.
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Despite the initial danger, the journey through the caves went very smoothly. The ground was a former riverbed and was flat and hard, making it easy to walk on. Easy for everyone but Sky that is; the wingtail’s legs were aching like they never had before. He was so used to flying everywhere that his legs were badly out of shape, and he was finding it difficult to continue. It was a good thing there was a slight layer of water covering the floor, as it was nice and warm compared to the rest of the cavern.
“Is it just me, or this water getting higher and higher as we go?” Littlefoot stated suddenly, as he glanced nervously at the thin film of water.
“It must be you Littlefoot, it hasn’t changed at all since we started,” Ali countered.
“I don’t know,” said Littlefoot insecurely, “What do you think Sky?”
The wingtail didn’t answer. Instead he did a very simple test. He focused on a small stationary object, a rock just above the waterline. After a few moments, it became clear that the water was rising. That could not be good.
“I think we should continue, and hope it does not rise any further,” the wingtail answered.
Experience told them that when Sky said something like that, something bad was about to happen. Perhaps the collapse of Saurus Rock had cast bad luck down on all of them, but it was impossible to tell. After all bad luck was relative, as they were all lucky to still be alive after being chased by sharpteeth and Sky being beaten into submission.
“What the matter, it only water,” said Petrie and he shrugged as he proposed the question to the others. Sky opened his mouth to answer, but Littlefoot did instead.
“If the water rises too much, we won’t be able to breathe so we’ll drown.” The young longneck said, and Petrie began to shiver in terror. Why did he bother to ask? He knew it would only make him scared.
“Ah… you certainly are learning Littlefoot,” said Sky, and he gave Littlefoot a proud smile.
There was no better satisfaction for a teacher then to see his students learning on their own, and to Sky’s pleasure Littlefoot was far more gifted then he had realized. The longneck had the knowledge and intellect to understand the things he told him, but rarely he also had a depth of wisdom and experience that was very uncommon amongst other longnecks his age. In addition to this his friends were seasoned adventurers, and never complained about hunger, fatigue or boredom. There was more to these younglings then initially met the eye.
The rising water proved to be non-threatening… the levels went down as the day went on and they ventured deeper into the caves. Sky suspected that the rocks “breathed” as in got bigger during the onset of night, so the water would be trapped inside. It was interesting how living the dead ground beneath them could actually be, and Sky made a note to come back here to study it sometime in the future.
…
After nearly four hours of walking through the damp dark Icy Caves the gang finally emerged into the outside, and they were exhausted. Apart from some water greens Ducky pulled up from the pool none of them had eaten anything, and they were starving. The green food was sparse at the exit of the cave, but it was better then nothing. As Littlefoot, Ali, Petrie, Ducky and Spike spread out to feast themselves, Sky went to do a little bit of hunting on his own.
Wingtails were omnivores, but their vastly preferred food was fish. Having grown up next to a large lake, there was always tons of fish to go around of many different colours, species, and more importantly tastes. Every year when the cold time ended and the fish awoke from their long slumber, the wingtails took to the skies and took advantage of the stupefied fish to make record catches. One of Sky’s fondest memories was from when he was barely a hatchling, and the Fish Day was going on. The Fish Day was when rather then eating their catches, the wingtails would trade them with each other to try and get the tastiest fish of them all. Because everyone had a different preference when it came to food, for the most part everyone benefitted. The Fish Trade was similar to a yearly festival, and he remembered it as a glorious time of storytelling, singing, and performing. It was there were he learned one year to palm objects, making it appear like he had conjured them up from thin air. This helped him in his teaching immeasurably, as children were the most interested in things they could see and feel, yet did not understand.
As Sky came to rest on a branch overlooking the next leg of their journey, he sighed at the memories. As great as it was, that time was gone now and would never return. He was on the run, and hunted by those of his own homeland. It pained him that they would never understand, that they never know why he ran and didn’t come back. It was a secret he would likely take till the time the skin had decayed off his bones.
A group of three mysterious dinosaurs slipped out of the brush and were bathed in the light of the impending dusk a fair distance away. Sky would have paid them no mind, were it not for the way they moved. Sharpteeth crouched low and spread out when they were hunting, while leaf-eaters tended to walk with their heads held high, so they could see their food. This group however, lay somewhere in between. Sky squinted as he watched their movements, then one of them glanced to the side in his direction.
Even from this distance Sky could make out the fiery red pupils and evil hunger in them, and the glint of sharp white teeth. It was unnerving, but not entirely foreign to him. Sharpteeth who acted this way were not out for a meal, they were patrolling on someone else’s orders. These were Tyron’s scouts. One of them looked him dead in the eye, but after a while snorted and looked away. From a distance they couldn’t tell who he was, so thankfully he was passed off as a local.
After the sharpteeth left Sky bolted into the air… he had to warn the gang.
…
As Sky took off another fast-biter had his eyes on him, but unlike the scouts this one had a mission, a purpose, and a master’s orders to follow.
Redgar watched the wingtail disappear over the ridge, and wheeled on his feet to tell Prince Tyrus what he had seen. When the group of them had reached the entrance to the Icy Caves they found inside one of their own that was broken and bruised, but fortunately still alive. Before he was mercifully executed and eaten, he told them about the wingtail with the Occular and the children with him. Redgar would have to say in all his years serving Tyron he had never seen anything like it, a wingtail seeking sanctuary within the deepest and darkest of places. From what he knew of them they were a snobby race that believed they were first among the flyers, and constantly violated his master’s domains.
Tyron had often ranted about destroying the insolent creatures, but they were far away, numerous, and very clever. They roosted in the high trees far out of the reach of the sharptooth hunters, and they had also been long suspected as the keepers of the Occular, the object that his princely escortee desired so much.
As he ran back to his new master, Redgar reminded himself that Tyrus was certainly not a weakling compared to his father. Perhaps his title was misleading, but Tyron would have his son called no less. In the fast-biter’s experience it was best to not argue and serve loyally to the best of your ability, and you would be rewarded with a good meal and another day of life. The thought of it made dealing with a mad dog like Tyrus slightly easier to bear.
“What did you find?” growled Prince Tyrus threateningly as Redgar approached him.
“There is indeed a wingtail, although there was no sign of the supposed “friends” he had with him.”
“They are insignificant,” snarled Tyrus, “All we need is the wingtail… alive if possible.”
“Why do you want us to spare is his life?” asked Redgar in confusion.
“I plan to kill him myself,” responded Tyrus gloweringly, and he bared his teeth in glee.
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When Sky reached the gang the darkness had already closed in, and they had already drifted off into dreamland. It wasn’t safe for them here, with Tyron’s scouts sneaking around. If they were caught, he might get away but the children would be dead meat. They had to make it across the Cratered Glen, and they had to do it tonight.
“Littlefoot, wake up we need to go,” Sky said as he landed next to the longneck, and shook him awake.
“Oh… just a few more minutes grandma,” Littlefoot moaned.
“Wake up!” Sky shouted.
“Ahhh!” Littlefoot cried in shock, and he blinked as he came back to the realm of the awake. With a yawn he replied angrily to Sky,
“What was that for? We’ve been walking all day,”
“Sharpteeth… they are here and they are searching for us. If you want to live, we have to go and go right now,” Sky asserted.
Littlefoot grumbled in displeasure and proceeded to help Sky wake up the rest of the gang. They were interrupted by a shrill roar that echoed through the trees and the forest.
“Tyrus,” Sky whispered to himself.
“Get up Spike, get up!” Ducky begged Spike, but he heard it too and didn’t need to be pushed any farther. The sounds of thunderous stomping became louder and louder as death approached from the dark woods. A sharptooth couldn’t see them, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t smell or hear them.
With Sky in the lead the gang tore through the edge of the woods and into the rugged terrain of the Cratered Glen, their primal instincts of survival overriding their exhaustion and fatigue.
The Cratered Glen was known for being pockmarked with craters of unknown origin. Some legends say that when the longnecks stopped the Great Circle from falling out of the sky, pieces of it fell to the earth and landed here, while other legends say that a swarm of flying rocks hit here on their own in times past. Whichever story was true, an apparent feature of this place was how exothermically active it was. The Black Mountain’s volcanic systems ran deep through the land and although it had been quiet through all living memory, its heat still spawned numerous phenomena like the Cordial Springs, the Mudflow, and even the occasional geyser eruptions that occurred here in the Cratered Glen.
“This way children, if we hurry we can escape in the geyser field.” Sky said urgently.
“Sorry, but what’s a geyser?” asked Ali while they ran at a quickened pace.
“You’ll see,” was the only answer Sky would give.
In the open the entire gang was clearly visible, so that even in the dark Tyrus could see their movements and hear their footsteps. In an instant, he burst out of the forest and was on their tails. Ducky screamed.
“He getting closer!” hollered Petrie in anguish.
“Do something Sky, we can’t keep running like this!” Ali begged.
Sky wheeled around and headed straight back towards the impending doom right behind them. It was time for a test, a test to see what motivated this Sharptooth. He dove at the sharptooth’s eyes, and it snapped at him. The villainous jaws came within inches of the wingtail, and he screeched at the top of his lungs. Tyrus withdrew from the horrible sound, and in the moments distraction Sky shouted to Littlefoot.
“Keep going Littlefoot! Don’t stop until you reach the other side!”
“But what about you?” the longneck cried back.
“I’ll handle this.” Sky replied reassuringly.
Following behind Littlefoot the rest of the children went on, and soon it was just Sky and Tyrus. Sky circled around just out of reach, and withdrew the Occular from within his wing. He flashed it the moonlight.
“Looking for this?” Sky taunted, and the sharptooth snarled in rage at him.
Yep, this sharptooth was definitely after the same thing that Glide was, but unlike that bully there was no way he could take the massive Tyrus on by himself. He would have to play a little game with him.
“You want it? Come and get it.”
The blue wingtail swooped through the air and soared towards the geyser fields, keeping low to the ground so the sharptooth would chase him. A smarter thing to do would be to simply fly away and out of Tyrus’ reach, but if he did that the fiend might go after the children, and with them in their current state they would most certainly be slaughtered.
After a minute or two Sky had made it to the geyser fields, and landed right next to an open hole into the earth. He had to end this chase now, and he knew just the way. Tyrus stalked up to him slowly, thinking he had the wingtail cornered. The sharptooth had a look of murderous hunger on his face, but it was not for food. He wanted revenge.
“I can go no farther, take it and leave me be.”
In a surprising gesture, Sky took the Occular out of his wing and flicked it through the air. It sailed through the cool night air, and landed at the sharptooth’s feet. Tyrus may not have understood what the thief had said, but there was no misinterpreting his actions. He was giving it back.
Tyrus would have none of this – he wanted blood to avenge the deed and the dishonour, and he would have it. He extended a foot and mashed the dirt with his claws, brushing the Occular along with the surrounding soil aside into unimportance. There was no misinterpreting that gesture either, as the Sharptooth Prince revealed his rows of teeth and closed in for the kill. Sky just sighed.
“Sharpteeth… so predictable,” he chided.
Just as the wingtail said it a plume of water burst from the ground in front of him, just as he felt it would when he landed, and jetted into Tyrus’ face. The boiling water seared his eyes and nose, and filled his opened mouth. With a horrible shriek the sharptooth recoiled, and began to roll on the ground in agony. That would certainly leave a mark.
Calmly, and almost casually Sky re-acquired the Occular from the dirt on his way back into the air, and left his sharptooth nemesis reeling in pain in a pool of high temperature underground water. Thank the heavens for geysers.
…
Sky landed next to his young charges, which were absolutely spent and sprawled out under a lush tree they had somehow found. In the distance, dawn was just beginning to break the horizon and drown out the beautiful display of stars. Most of the gang didn’t notice, and had fallen asleep almost immediately upon reaching the other side of the Glen. Only Littlefoot was still awake, but barely.
“Did you get away, is it gone?” the longneck asked.
“Yes… I don’t think he will be bothering us anymore, at least for a while.”
“Great… now can we finally go to sleep?” Littlefoot moaned.
“Yes Littlefoot, you have earned your rest,” Sky replied.
Within a few minutes, Sky too was deep into the realm of sleep with the rest of his travel companions. Who knows what awaited them tomorrow, in the untravelled and unknown woods of the Forbidden Forest?
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