It was a cold, chillingly silent night. The wind that had howled that day died down. There was eerie quiet left that blanketed the forest below. The branches of the enormous trees groaned under the weight of the group, high above the ground on which monsters roamed. Howard, tied to the thick limb of the tree, felt the damp chill seeping into his skin. The others had grown settled in the night, despite being nervous with every passing moment. All that was heard was the fitting rustle of Aliga's bat, adjusting its weight in sleep, and the low, weird noises of the twisted beings that lurked so far down.
Out of sight and beyond the range of the group's eyeshot, the third and final nightmare conqueror Atlas, sat perched upon a branch deep in the darkness. He sat astride a creature defying all human notion, monstrous, born not of nature's plan but of terror and grotesque beauty. His beast had no comparison in all the village: six spindly legs of glistening black scales that shimmered faintly in the dim light. Its body was sleek, serpent-like, and coiled once, twice, thrice around the trunk of the tree. His eyes were deep, molten orange and faintly glowing as he seemed to scan the horizon. Its mouth, though, was what was most unsettling - far too wide and filled with rows of jagged, bone-like teeth clicking rhythmically as though he were contemplating something.
Atlas absent-mindedly stroked the side of the beast as he replayed the details of his mission in his head. Varek had been clear on his orders: "Watch the group, and watch Aliga in particular. See that nothing goes wrong. She is more unpredictable than you think."
The conqueror grunted softly at the thought. He had worked alongside Aliga before, and knew she was known for cunning, yet he hadn't suspected her of disloyalty. Yet Varek's caution was rarely unwarranted.
As he looked back toward the group, his gaze fell on something glinting in the faint moonlight, a small object resting on a branch, almost forgotten. He'd seen these things before, littered across their journey. Aliga had been throwing them out of the basket at varying intervals during their flight on the bat. He had dismissed them at first as nonsensical little trifles, some kind of weird ritual or whim about her. But several of them had caught his notice. Smooth stones, pieces of something weird and metallic, tiny bits of carved wood. Some of those, he'd gathered up, shoving them into his pouch to inspect when time allowed.
He absently brushed the objects hidden in his belt. "Why had she dropped them? A trail? A signal?" He hadn't been able to make any sense of them yet, but something gnawed at him. He had kept them because his instincts told him they were important.
His eyes shifted back to the distant group. Adjusting his weight on the creature's back, he let out an exasperated breath and sunk into the darkness, watching and waiting. His goal: nothing untoward was to come to pass. But now, the seeds of doubt lay firmly planted within his skull.
And then dawn broke quietly, with only the languid lapping of leaves beneath Aliga's bat as it prepared itself for another long crossing. The party was eager to pack their equipment swiftly and not waste any more of this time, pushing as much distance as possible through these waters. The woods had begun to draw taller now-thicker branches twisting at great angles, mostly filled with a sense of looming discomfort.
Howard, still bound, was roused from fitful sleep by the pressure of a guard's elbow against his ribs. The bat was ready to take flight. In no time at all, they were airborne once more, drifting over the dark and ominously looming woods. The overcast sky threw a gray gloom in every direction; the thick mist sticking to the earth had obscured the entire sweep of the horizon, and Howard could feel the weight of the unknown pressing down upon him even from so great a height.
As they soared, Howard caught glimpses of Aliga forward, expertly guiding the bat. She seemed chatty today, loose banter drifting between her and the others, her usual mystique tempered just a hairpin turn. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling something was off. She'd made a few pointed sarcasm at his expense, teased him in her familiar, barbed way, but in her voice there was something Howard just couldn't quite put his finger on.
Still, he pushes it aside. He knew Aliga to be slippery and obscure anyhow, so why today? She enjoyed doing things on her own terms, and if the job ran smoothly, he had nothing to say about it. Besides, there were guards for that point of having them: not to cause him problems. And Aliga was just as opaque as ever.
After several more hours of flying, the group landed to rest again. This time, they chose another tall tree- its height was even greater than the one previously chosen. The thickness of the branches formed an intertwining web, sheltering a safe, elevated platform where they could camp for the night. The bat settled onto a broad limb, folding its wings elegantly as it settled down.
The guards quickly overran the camp as Howard was tied to a new branch. His misery grew worse with every passing day of captivity. Aliga moved among the men more talkative than ever with their merry jokes cutting through the cloth of the agonizing anxiety built up on long, monotonous flights.
"You look a little too comfortable tied up like that, Howard," she joked, smiling as she leaned against the trunk of the tree. "Maybe we should make it permanent."
The others laughed at the joke, though Howard could only manage a weak smile. Her tone was light but there was an edge to it and he could sense that it wasn't just a harmless joke but something that would gauge his reactions. He decided not to rise to the bait.
"Only if you promise to untie me once we're back home," Howard shot back, trying not to let the conversation get too heavy. "I'd like to walk on my own two feet sometime."
Aliga tilted her head to the side, her smile growing wider. "We'll see. It depends on how well-behaved you are."
Though Howard tried to focus on his steps and Aliga's words, he couldn't get the niggling sense in the back of his mind out of his head. But there was something else behind the smile and the jests which seemed he had never sensed in her before. He looked around at the others, but nobody was out of the ordinary. They were tired and wanted to sleep before the next stage of the journey. If Aliga's behavior was anything different, then Howard seemed the only one even vaguely to have picked it up on.
But again, he banished the thought. She had always been a mystery, so why would tonight be an exception?
It was a night. The whole gang settled at the camp Aliga had established for them. Aliga's bat curled up by him, breathing slow and steady. The guards vigilantly watched their watch in turns from the heights of the tree. The sounds of the forest were eerie, but they were far below; no one would now go all the way down to the ground. Up here, they thought, they were safe. Or so they thought.
Shrouded behind a local tree the Atlas watched all of them with an eye very sharp. And these were unseen and unnoticed, staying beyond out of reach until the time to take his chance came along. Varek's orders sounded in his head, for he knew this night was some kind of crunch. Whatever plan Aliga was making was about to go live.