Chapter Fifteen

A couple Huldu hover over a fire that has been kindled in a crevice of rock. The fire is heating cast iron pans and a large pot of water. Other Huldu squat as they chop greens and tubers, and a few stand over a tall narrow mortar with long slender wooden poles that widen at the bottom. Those who stand over the mortars use the poles to pound various ingredients into a viscous substance. The pounding motions are asynchronous and rhythmic. One pole comes down just as one comes up, then the next pole comes down as the previous comes up. The movements of the poles continue at equal intervals, and it is mesmerizing to observe.

Others have prepared seating for their guests. The dragons had thrown the Huldu’s bedding—along with various other possessions—into the caves once they had begun to accumulate more luxurious goods, so the Huldu have plenty of cushioning to offer. Edna and her companions make themselves comfortable and converse with many of the Huldu while the meal is being prepared. They are eager to learn more about these creatures so new to them. For Edna’s friends, there is a sentimental keenness, like meeting family one had not known about.

The Huldu speak enthusiastically about the lives they once lived in the fresh air and sunshine. Before their enslavement they had followed a schedule they enjoyed, for it suited their nature; they are an intensely focused and curious lot. Their schedule began with a limited period in which they worked in the mines, and it ended with an extended period of play and learning in the fresh outdoors of their village. Workdays started early in the morning and ended at dusk, with breaks that lasted only the duration of a quick meal or refreshment. The Huldu practically lived in the mines during these times, for they started work soon after waking, and ended just before retiring to bed.

Though they loved most to be in the open air, they also took a particular kind of joy in the periods of intense labor because within the long hard hours there was anticipation for the days ahead. They only mined what they needed in gold and jewels to get them through to their next working spell. And what they needed was enough currency to pay for food, various supplies, books, and an assortment of instruments for music, woodworking, weaving, or whatever endeavor they planned to pursue, as well as payment for teachers they hired when they needed to be taught certain skills.

The days of play and learning had heightened satisfaction because of the preceding period of labor, for the labor served to season their recreation, intensifying the vitality of each activity they pursued. Each Huldu would spend one period focused on learning one new skill, one period practicing the previous skills that they had already acquired, one period of reading, and one period exploring, and learning about, the nature that surrounded them.

They never did multiple things in one period, for doing so would break up the euphoria of intense focus. In the evenings they would gather to eat, drink, dance, play music, and otherwise enjoy the fruits of each others’ learning. Dinner was often prepared by Huldu who were in a period of developing cooking skills, and entertainment was a combination of those who were learning new performance art forms, and those who were refreshing old ones. The last day, before their work period began, they would spend silently, centering their thoughts on thanksgiving for all they had been blessed with, and in the evening, they came together with an ending ceremony of praise to the creator.

As Edna listens to their story, she is mystified by the miraculous foundations of Storia. If these creatures were enslaved since almost the beginning of their world, how did they have books or musical instruments, or instruments of any kind? But what seems like magic to Edna is quotidian to her friends.

She is reminded of a philosophical discussion she once overheard. One college student had said to another that it was logically possible that they had only just that moment sprung into existence, but with illusory memories of the past. It was ridiculous to Edna that anyone would bother with such silly notions, but now she does not find the speculation so absurd. These creatures seemed to have sprung into existence with everything but memories, and yet they are completely un-perplexed about it as if it is the most natural thing in the world. Maybe this is why Storia creatures do not need to explore other worlds, like humans do, Edna wonders; the miraculous is simply built into their understanding. The ability to hope for something beyond one’s current experiences is as natural to a Storia creature as breathing; and it is this hope that has gotten the Huldu through their suffering.

Edna’s thoughts are disrupted with a rumbling stomach and dishes of food that are being set before her. There are plates full of savory patties that have been made by mashing together grains, tubers, greens, and spices, then patted into flat rounds and fried. There are also bowls full of small squishy mounds that look something like bread rolls but have a sweet taste and a delightful doughy texture. Edna sinks her teeth into the savory patties and doughy rolls, and eats until her stomach bloats, weighing her down like she has consumed bricks.

The entirety of creatures who fill the cave satisfy their hunger for food and drink while their heads nod wordless affirmations of delight. But there is no savoring once the food is finished, for plans begin immediately.

“First thing we need to do,” A Huldu named Hendi begins, “is figure out how to get out of these caves. We can assume the dragons have all the tunnel openings to the caves covered. And I think it’s safe to assume they won’t risk any of us getting out and getting anywhere near the cane. They’ll torch us while we’re still in the tunnels. But we can use this to our advantage. Maybe we can trick them somehow into expending all their fire; maybe they’ll even have less than usual to begin with. I can’t imagine they’ve much of a stomach for eating rich foods right now, not with the cane nearby. They can’t possibly trust that centaur fellow.”

“That’s good,” says Heldina, another of the Huldul. “After that we’ll need a plan to fight them. They may be more sluggish than they used to be, but they’re still impenetrable; and we’re no match for their strength. They could simply eat us up if they wanted to.”

“Do you have anything we can fight them with?” Gargan asks.

“We have cooking knives and mining tools, but they won’t have any effect on the dragons, their skin is too thick.”

“Well then, how in the world am I supposed to be slaying a dragon with a wooden cane if knives don’t even work on them?” Edna asks.

“We’ve assumed that the stick is magical; the dragons think so too, that’s why they’re so afraid of it.”

“Well, from all that I could tell it’s just plain ol’ wood. If it were magical, it should’ve given me more energy and strength; and healed my arm.”

“Well, how the cane works doesn’t matter,” Heldul says. “What matters is that it will.”

Gargan is thinking about his own pet dragon and interrupts the digression with the following thought, “dragon eyes and mouths are vulnerable, just like any of ours.” His comment quiets the cave while all contemplate how to get at these weak spots that Gargan has helpfully pointed out.

Edna’s eyes trail the walls of the cave. She thinks again of the stone her hippie neighbor had given her. “This stuff is certainly just as sharp and strong,” she says to herself.

“What?” Pixie asks.

“Oh, I was just thinking that, well, this rock you guys have, it’s pretty sharp—sharp enough to make weapons. Do you all know what bows and arrows are?” Edna is met with blank stares and some slight gestures that indicate for her to continue. She smacks her knee with her good hand. “You don’t have bows and arrows? Well, I’ll explain! The bow is a piece of wood, shaped like this,” she says drawing a large crescent in the air with her index finger, “and it has a long thread of … well something like twine tied to each end of the bow, very tightly. Now the arrow is a long straight shaft of wood with a sharp, well… pointed blade at the end. That’s called the arrowhead, and it’s made from something like the black rock of your walls. To use it you pull the arrow against the twine and then release it, and the tension from the twine causes the arrow to fly through the air. If you could make weapons like that, you could shoot the dragons in their eyes and mouths.”

“That’s brilliant!” Heldina says. “We have plenty of wood and twine, and many of us have mastered woodworking. Making the bow and arrows shouldn’t be a problem. Now we just need to figure out how to get them to use up their fire.”

“Some of us can take the bow and arrows and sneak into the side tunnels that are closest to the cave entrances.” Heldul says. “One entrance has a rock that is covering it, we can sneak down that tunnel first, and from there span out into the side tunnels. Then we can cause a commotion in the main tunnels until they breathe fire at us. We’ll jump back into the side tunnels before the fire reaches us. They don’t know about the side tunnels, so they’ll think they’ve killed us. Then we just keep on causing a commotion and hiding in the side tunnels, and they’ll think they’re killing us all off. It’ll be incredibly hot, but not deadly. And just as their fire is running low, we can jump out into the main tunnels and shoot into their mouths.”

“I do think,” Heldul breaks in, “that we should give them the opportunity to surrender. If they’re willing to surrender, then there should be no violence.”

“Surrender?” Edna says. “They’re not going to surrender!”

“I’m sure you’re right, but we can still give them the option.”

“How can we give them this option?” Gargana asks, as she strokes the sleeping head of the Sierra Leonian child who has fallen asleep in her lap and is peacefully unaware of any part of this discussion. “How will we know if they are being honest with us?”

“We can talk to them through the caves.” Heldul says. “We’ll gather the coverings and speak loudly, directly to them. We can tell them we plan to escape at any point throughout the night until morning, but that we are willing to extend mercy. If they choose to surrender, they must be seated in the caverns during this time, facing the walls, and they must allow us to tie up their hands and their mouths. We’ll tell them that they will be tied up like this while we figure out what to do with them to ensure that they can no longer cause harm. But if they fight us, we have no other option than to take their lives.”

“What if they trick us?” Edna asks.

“I doubt they’d risk it. They’re ruled by fear right now, so they won’t want to take the chance that any of us even get close to escaping. We’ll know the moment they start breathing into the tunnels what their choice is. And we’ll be doing what’s right, so we can be confident in our actions—even at the risk of trickery.”

The last bit of Heldul’s answer satisfies all but Edna. What seems right to her is that the Huldul are the only ones capable of trickery, since it is they who are enslaved, and they who are escaping. But Storia creatures, especially the Huldu, hold a kind of trust that she has never known. And they seem to have good insight into what to put their trust in. So she decides to trust, too, that the plan will succeed.

Now that the groundwork of their plans has been laid out, the Huldu immediately begin gathering wood to make the bows and arrows. They have plenty of firewood and old furniture that had been discarded by the dragons, and they drag all materials they might need to the center of the cave, then listen to further instruction from Edna. She explains as much as she can, though never having used one or giving them much thought she can only surmise how they are supposed to be made. But the Huldu are clever enough to figure out how bows and arrows would need to be built if they are to function as the Huldul want them to.

They spend the rest of the day, and the next, successfully making working replicas of Native American bows and arrows. One group chisels the sharp heads of the arrows, another group makes the bows, and another prepares the shaft of wood for the arrowheads. The latter group plucks bits of their own feathery fur to use as fletching—they are not quite feathers exactly, but they work well enough to make the arrows glide effortlessly through the air.

After enough bows and arrows are made, the next three days are spent learning how to use them. The Huldu practice on soft targets of burlap bags that have been stuffed with husks. They begin early in the morning and end late in the evening and stop only long enough to eat and drink. Edna and her friends do their best to cook and have food prepared for the Huldu, but they are nowhere near as quick and efficient at having food ready and served in time as the Huldu are, so while some Huldu hurriedly eat the prepared food, others shove whatever is edible and most convenient into their mouths, then hurry back to their work.

Edna is mesmerized by the stamina and focus of these creatures. The Huldu, free from working the mines for the first time since almost the beginning, come alive with the thrill of learning and mastering a new skill. Though they are not in the fresh open air as they used to be, they are finally tasting their old ways of life again.

As practice progresses, the best archers are identified, and the others spend the rest of their time making more arrows, as well as packs for the back to hold the arrows in.

On the last evening, after supper, the time is spent systematically. After first standing together in an unbroken circle of linked hands, with offers of thanksgiving and supplication, they gather the heavy fabrics that hang in the tunnels beyond the reach of dragon fire. Now their voices can be heard clearly by the dragons. The Huldu speak boldly—no longer in cautious undertones—and address the dragons. Various Huldu have a part in the oration, and a long speech is directed to their enslavers. Every sin that the dragons have committed against the Huldu is recounted; their greed, murder, and brutal oppression is laid bare, and the dragons—having created such an externally beautiful environment for themselves—are forced to hear the telling of their own internal repulsiveness.

After the long solemn judgement of their captor’s trespasses, the Huldu then offer salvation. They tell the dragons of their willingness to show them mercy. But for this to happen the dragons must surrender to the Huldu. If they do not surrender, the Huldu have no other choice than to fight. The dragons are given instructions to sit towards the walls in the cave, facing away from the tunnels, and to be ready for them anytime from now until the morning.

As the bold oration is given, ten archers take advantage of the noise and sneak down the tunnel that Edna and her friends had arrived through, and near the opening where the side tunnels branch off from the main tunnels the archers span out into the various side tunnels, bringing with them their weapons. The side tunnels are another ingenious invention of the Huldu. They ensure that if for any reason any of the tunnels become blocked at the entrance while a Huldu is stuck inside, the Huldu can escape through one of the side tunnels into another main tunnel.

The Huldu who have snuck down the tunnels are now laying in their designated side tunnel, already on the edge of sleep. Those still in the cavern, after the end of the oration, are ready to retire as well. There is nothing left to do now but sleep.