Best Fantasy Stories

Chapter 21 THE FLYING MONSTER

Chapter 21

THE FLYING MONSTERI retired to bed, but could not sleep. The offer of escape

filled me with excited thoughts. These made sleep impossible, and

as I lay awake I thought that perhaps it would be well to know what

might be Layelah's plan of escape, for I might then make use of it

to save Almah. I determined to find out all about it on the

following jom—to question her as to the lands of the Gojin, to

learn all her purpose. It might be that I could make use of that

very plan to save Almah; but if not, why then I was resolved to

remain and meet my fate with her. If Layelah could be induced to

take both of us, I was of course resolved to go, trusting to chance

as to the claims of Layelah upon me, and determined at all hazards

to be faithful to Almah; but if she should positively refuse to

save Almah, then I thought it possible that I might be able to find

in Layelah's plan of escape something of which I might avail

myself. I could not imagine what it was, but it seemed to me that

it might be something quite feasible, especially for a desperate

man. The only thought I had was of escape by means of some boat

over the seas. In a boat I would be at home. I could make use of a

sail so as to elude pursuit, and could guide myself by the stars.

The only thing that I wanted to know was the situation of the lands

of the Gojin.

On the following jom the Kohen Gadol and Layelah came quite

early and spent much time. I was surprised to see the Kohen Gadol

devoting himself in an absurd fashion to Almah. It at once occurred

to me that Layelah had obtained her father's co-operation in her

scheme, and that the old villain actually imagined that he could

win the hand of Almah. To Almah herself I had said nothing whatever

about the proposal of Layelah, so that she was quite ignorant of

the intentions of her companion; but it was excessively annoying to

me to see such proceedings going on under my own eyes. At the same

time I felt that it would be both unwise and uncivil to interfere;

and I was also quite sure that Almah's affections were not to be

diverted from me by anyone, much less by such an elderly party as

the Kohen Gadol. It was very trying, however, and, in spite of my

confidence in Almah, my jealousy was excited, and I began to think

that the party of philosophical Radicals were not so agreeable as

the orthodox cannibals whom I first met. As for Layelah, she seemed

quite unconscious of any disturbance in my mind. She was as

amiable, as sprightly, as inquisitive, and as affectionate as ever.

She even outdid herself, and devoted herself to me with an abandon

that was quite irresistible.

After Almah had left me, Layelah came again, and this time she

was alone.

"I have come," said she, "to show you the way in which we can

escape, whenever you decide to do so."

It was the thing above all others which I wished to know, and

therefore I questioned her eagerly about it; but to all of my

questions she only replied that she would show me, and I might

judge for myself.

Layelah led the way, and I followed her. We traversed long

galleries and vast halls, all of which were quite empty. It was the

sleeping-time, and only those were visible who had some duties

which kept them up later than usual. Faint, twinkling lights but

feebly illuminated the general gloom. At length we came to an

immense cavern, which was darker than ever, and without any lamps

at all. Through a vast portal, which was closed with a barred

gateway, the beams of the brilliant aurora penetrated and disclosed

something of the interior.

Here Layelah stopped and peered through the gloom while I stood

waiting by her side, wondering what means of escape could be found

in this cavern. As I stood I heard through the still air the sound

as of living things. For a time I saw nothing, but at length I

descried a vast, shadowy form moving forward toward the portal,

where the darkness was less. It was a form of portentous size and

fearful shape, and I could not make out at first the nature of it.

It surpassed all that I had ever seen. Its head was large and its

jaws long, armed with rows of terrible teeth like those of a

crocodile. Its body was of great size. It walked on its hind-legs,

so as to maintain itself in an upright attitude, and in that

position its height was over twelve feet. But the most amazing

thing about this monster has yet to be told. As it walked its

forearms waved and fluttered, and I saw descending from them what

seemed like vast folded leathern wings, which shook and swayed in

the air at every step. Its pace was about as fast as that of a man,

and it moved with ease and lightness. It seemed like some enormous

bat, or rather like a winged crocodile, or yet again like one of

those monstrous dragons of which I had read, but in whose actual

existence I had never believed. Yet here I saw one living and

moving before me—an actual dragon, with the exception of a tail;

for that appendage, which plays so great a part in all the pictures

of dragons, had no place here. This beast had but a short caudal

appendage, and all its terrors lay in its jaws and in its

wings.

For a moment I stood almost lifeless with terror and surprise.

Then I shrank back, but Layelah laid her hand on my arm.

"Don't be afraid," said she; "it's only an athaleb."

"But won't it—won't it bite?" I asked, with a shudder.

"Oh no," said Layelah; "it swallows its victuals whole."

At this I shrank away still farther.

"Don't be afraid," said Layelah again. "Its jaws are muzzled,

and, besides, it's a tame athaleb. Its jaws are unmuzzled only at

feeding-time. But this one is very tame. There are three or four

others in here, and all as tame as I am. They all know me. Come up

nearer; don't be afraid. These athalebs are easily tamed."

"How can such tremendous monsters be tamed?" I asked, in an

incredulous tone.

"Oh, man can tame anything. The athalebs are very docile when

they are taken young. They are very long lived. This one has been

in service here for a hundred seasons and more."

At this I began to regain my confidence, and as Layelah moved

nearer to the athaleb I accompanied her. A nearer view, however,

was by no means reassuring. The dragon look of the athaleb was

stronger than ever, for I could see that all its body was covered

with scales. On its neck and back was a long ridge of coarse hair,

and the sweep of its vast arms was enormous. It was with a quaking

heart that I stood near; but the coolness of Layelah reassured me,

for she went close up, as a boy would go up to a tame elephant, and

she stroked his enormous back, and the monster bent down his

terrible head and seemed pleased.

"This," said Layelah, "is the way we have of escaping."

"This!" I exclaimed, doubtfully.

"Yes," said she. "He is trained to the service. We can mount on

his back, and he will fly with us wherever I choose to guide

him."

"What!" I exclaimed, as I shrank back—"fly! Do you mean to say

that you will mount this hideous monster, and trust yourself to

him?"

"Certainly," said Layelah, quietly. "He is very docile. There is

harness here with which we can guide him. Should you like to see

him harnessed?"

"Very much indeed," said I.

Upon this Layelah walked up to the monster and stroked his

breast. The huge athaleb at once lay down upon his belly. Then she

brought two long straps like reins, and fastened each to the tip of

a projecting tip of each wing. Then she fastened a collar around

his neck, to which there was attached a grappling-iron.

"We seat ourselves on his back," said Layelah. "I guide with

these reins. When we land anywhere I fasten him with the grapple.

He looks dull now, but if I were to open the gate and remove his

muzzle he would be off like the wind."

"But can he carry both of us?" I asked.

"Easily," said Layelah. "He can carry three persons without

fatigue."

"Could you mount on his back now, and show me how you sit?"

Layelah readily assented, and mounted with the greatest ease,

seating herself on the broadest part of the back between the

wings.

"Here," said she, "is room for you. Will you not come?"

For an instant I hesitated; but then the sight of her, seated

there as coolly as though she were on a chair reassured me, and I

climbed up also, though not without a shudder. The touch of the

fearful monster was abhorrent but I conquered my disgust and seated

myself close behind Layelah. Here she sat, holding the reins in her

hands, with the grapple just in front of her; and, seated in this

position, she went on to explain the whole process by which the

mighty monster was guided through the air.

No sooner had I found myself actually on the back of the athaleb

than all fear left me. I perceived fully how completely tame he

was, and how docile. The reins attached to his wings could be

pulled with the greatest ease, Just as one would pull the

tiller-ropes of a boat. "Familiarity breeds contempt;" and now,

since the first terror had passed away, I felt perfect confidence,

and under the encouragement of Layelah I had become like some

rustic in a menagerie, who at first is terrified by the sight of

the elephant, but soon gains courage enough to mount upon his back.

With my new-found courage and presence of mind I listened most

attentively to all of Layelah's explanations, and watched most

closely the construction and fastening of the harness; for the

thought had occurred to me that this athaleb might be of avail in

another way—that if I did not fly with Layelah, I might fly with

Almah. This thought was only of a vague and shadowy character—a dim

suggestion, the carrying out of which I scarce dared to think

possible; still, it was in my mind, and had sufficient power over

me to make me very curious as to the plans of Layelah. I determined

to find out where she proposed to go, and how far; to ask her about

the dangers of the way and the means of sustenance. It seemed, I

confess, rather unfair to Layelah to find out her plans and use

them for another purpose; but then that other purpose was Almah,

and to me at that time every device which was for her safety seemed

fair and honorable.

"Here," said Layelah—"here, Atam-or, you see the way of escape.

The athaleb can carry us both far away to a land where you need

never fear that they will put you to death—a land where the people

love light and life. Whenever you are ready to go, tell me; if you

are ready to go now, say so, and at once I will open the door, and

we shall soon be far away."

She laid her hand on mine and looked at me earnestly; but I was

not to be beguiled into any hasty committal of myself, and so I

turned her proposal away with a question:

"How far is it," I asked, "to that land?"

"It is too far for one flight," said Layelah. "We go first over

the sea till we come to a great island, which is called Magones,

where there are mountains of fire; there we must rest, and feed the

athaleb on fish, which are to be found on the shore. The athaleb

knows his way there well, for he goes there once every season for a

certain sacred ceremony. He has done this for fifty or sixty

seasons, and knows his way there and back perfectly well. The

difficulty will be, when we leave Magones, in reaching the land of

the Orin."

"The Orin?" I repeated. "Who are they?"

"They are a people among the Gojin who love life and light. It

is their land that I wish to reach, if possible."

"Where is it?" I asked, eagerly.

"I cannot explain," said Layelah. "I can only trust to my own

skill, and hope to find the place. We may have to pass over

different lands of the Gojin, and if so we may be in danger."

"What is the reason why the athaleb goes to Magones every

season?" I asked.

"To take there the chief pauper of the season, who has won the

prize of death by starvation. It is one of the greatest honors

among the Kosekin."

"Is Magones barren?"

"It is an island of fire, without anything on it but craggy

mountains and wild rocks and flowing rivers of fire. It stands

almost in the middle of the sea."

"How can we get away from here?" I asked, after some

silence.

"From here?—why, I open the gates, and the athaleb flies away;

that is all."

"But shall we not be prevented?"

"Oh no. No one here ever prevents anyone from doing anything.

Everyone is eager to help his neighbor."

"But if they saw me deliberately mounting the athaleb and

preparing for flight, would they not stop me?"

"No."

I was amazed at this.

"But," said I, "am I not a victim—preserved for the great

sacrifice?"

"You are; but you are free to go where you like, and do what you

like. Your character of victim makes you most distinguished. It is

the highest honor and dignity. All believe that you rejoice in your

high dignity, and no one dreams that you are anxious to

escape."

"But if I did escape, would they not pursue me?"

"Certainly not."

"What would they do for a victim?"

"They would wonder at your unaccountable flight, and then choose

some distinguished pauper."

"But if I were to stay here, would they not save me from death

at my entreaty?"

"Oh, certainly not; they would never understand such an

entreaty. That's a question of death, the supreme blessing. No one

is capable of such a base act as saving his fellow-man from death.

All are eager to help each other to such a fate."

"But if I were to fly they would not prevent me, and they would

not pursue me?"

"Oh no."

"Are there any in the land who are exempt from the

sacrifice?"

"Oh yes; the Athons, Meleks, and Kohens—these are not worthy of

the honor. The artisans and tradesmen are sometimes permitted to

attain to this honor; the laborers in greater numbers; but it is

the paupers who are chiefly favored. And this is a matter of

complaint among the rich and powerful, that they cannot be

sacrificed."

"Well, why couldn't I be made an Athon or a Kohen, and be

exempted in that way?"

"Oh, that would be too great a dishonor; it would be impossible.

On the contrary, the whole people are anxious to honor you to the

very uttermost, and to bestow upon you the greatest privileges and

blessings which can possibly be given. Oh no, it would be

impossible for them to allow you to become an Athon or a Kohen. As

for me, I am Malca, and therefore the lowest in the land—pitied and

commiserated by the haughty pauper class, who shake their heads at

the thought of one like me. All the people shower upon me

incessantly new gifts and new offices. If my present love of light

and life were generally known, they would punish me by giving me

new contributions of wealth and new offices and powers, which I do

not want."

"But you love riches, do you not? and you must want them

still?"

"No," said Layelah, "I do not want them now."

"Why, what do you want?" I asked.

"You!" said she, with a sweet smile.

I said nothing, but tried desperately to think of something that

might divert the conversation.

Layelah was silent for a few moments, and then went on in a

musing tone:

"As I was saying, I love you, Atam-or, and I hate Almah because

you love her. I think Almah is the only human being in all the

world that I ever really hated; and yet, though I hate her, still,

strange to say, I feel as though I should like to give her the

immense blessing of death, and that is a very strange feeling,

indeed, for one of the Kosekin. Do you understand, Atam-or, what

such can possibly be?"

I did not answer, but turned away the conversation by a violent

effort.

"Are there any other athalebs here?"

"Oh yes."

"How many?"

"Four."

"Are they all as tame as this?"

"Oh yes, all quite as tame; there is no difference

whatever."

Upon this I left the back of the athaleb, and Layelah also

descended, after which she proceeded to show me the other monsters.

At length she unharnessed the athaleb and we left the cavern.