Miranda's Excursion (standard:fantasy, 2246 words)
Author: Rinder	Added: Oct 20 2005	Views/Reads: 3127/2143	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A young woman struggles to escape an entanglement with a sentient plant.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

"Someone has made a mistake," Miranda said. 

"Remember," said the gnome, "noise provokes Sting. So pan quietly.
Quickly, but quietly." 

"Sting? Is he in charge? I want to talk with someone." 

He gestured toward her right. Seeing no options, she obliged. 

She arrived with the gnomes at a place where the ground sloped downward.
Here, a stream flowed through the cavern, undercutting the rocky wall 
twenty feet distant. Crouched beside torches stuck in the ground at 
intervals along the bank were more figures. Most were human, though she 
could see an elf and a goblin among them. A leafy vine trailed from the 
ankle of each, flowed up the slope, and disappeared in the darkness. 
All were busy, everyone equipped with tin plates. Directly below her, a 
young human woman dipped a plate into the stream, scooping out 
material. She swirled the contents, emptying it of the water. Peering 
at the residue, she sifted through the pebbles and sand. She paused, 
plucked something from the plate, tossed it into another plate on the 
ground beside her, and then resumed sifting. Finding nothing else to 
keep, she dumped the sediment back into the stream and dipped again. 

"You will work as such. Keep anything that resembles this."  He
displayed his hand. In the palm sat a pile of gold nuggets. 

A gnome approached carrying two tin plates. He extended them toward
Miranda. 

"Pan for--Oh, no. You're serious?" With that, the vine that bound her
ankle tightened and loosened. 

"What do you think, slave? Now go." 

Sighing, she accepted the plates, and then stepped down the stream bank.
She was not, it seemed, going to be eaten, but the situation was 
troublesome nonetheless. Edgar would be home by now, wondering where 
she had gone. It wasn't hopeless, at least. Edgar would see that she 
had left the axe in the yard and ask the locals whether they had seen 
her. Some had seen her, she recalled, had seen her sliding into the 
woods on her back. Of course, she doubted he would progress beyond the 
stump, unless the vine decided to abduct him, too. 

She set one pan beside her and dipped the other, scooping up material.
She peered at the contents of the pan. Her attention shifted to the 
vine encircling her ankle. "Why don't you pan for gold yourself?" she 
muttered. 

Suddenly she heard a rustling on the sand next to her. A vine was
slithering into the firelight that lay upon the stream bank. It stopped 
before reaching her, but leafy tendrils unwound from it. To Miranda's 
astonishment, they arranged themselves into words as big as her hand 
and rendered in a pretty script. 

STING ATTACKS ME WHEN I ENTER THE WATER 

"You talk?" she whispered. 

The tendrils unraveled and formed another sentence. 

YES AND YOU ARE MY CAPTIVE 

She couldn't argue, but maybe this was an opportunity. "Do the gnomes
know that you are speaking with me?" 

Again, the tendrils writhed and slithered, and the words changed. 

NO DO NOT TELL THEM 

"Why are you speaking--" she started. 

I SENSE THAT YOU DO NOT FEAR ME 

"Why...why do you help these awful gnomes?" 

OCCASIONAL PRUNING 

She remembered the leaves that she had hacked off with the axe. She
imagined that a profusion of leaves might feel like needing a haircut. 
"How could Sting threaten you, a creature impervious to axe strokes?" 

CONSIDER HIS NAME 

"I see," she said, and an idea occurred to her. "Suppose I could
convince Sting not to bother you." 

WHAT IF YOU COULD 

"Then you could free all of us, and pan for gold yourself. You wouldn't
have to risk snaring someone who had a magic talent, someone who could 
hurt you. And you could stop worrying about dangerous people coming to 
rescue their friends from slavery." 

TRUE THERE HAVE BEEN INCIDENTS 

"Do you think gnomes would prefer that you instead of slaves panned for
gold?" 

YES SLAVES NEED COSTLY FOOD ALL I NEED IS PRUNING 

"Those problems would vanish if I could persuade Sting to ignore you.
What do you think? Will you free us all then?" 

The previous leafy words lingered. Then they transformed to one word. 

DONE 

Exuberant, Miranda started to ask another question, but she heard the
vine rustling on the sand. She saw new words. 

DO NOT FAIL 

Once again, she felt the coil about her ankle tighten and loosen. 

"Well, how do I summon Sting--I mean without alerting the gnomes?" 

A tendril from the vine slithered toward the stream. It touched the
water, just for an instant, and then it retracted. Within moments, a 
patch of milky white substance rose nearly to the surface. Seeing it, 
Miranda couldn't help but laugh. With the firelight spilling over its 
lumpy topside, the creature looked to Miranda like a giant fried egg. 
She stifled the outburst. 

"Hello? Sting? I need to ask a favor of you." 

"What do you offer in return?" 

It spoke in a loud feminine voice. Alarmed, Miranda cast about for any
gnomes that might have heard. 

"I am transmitting my thoughts. I am limiting my range to a few meters.
Just keep working." 

She could think of nothing to offer a creature that lived in an
underground stream. "Well," she said, "is there...is there anything 
that a slave could do for you?" 

"I do have a problem. I am ready to lay my eggs, but am postponing it. I
have found a cave that suits me, but recently a mudslide blocked the 
entrance. It has another entrance hidden behind a waterfall, but the 
water at the entrance is too shallow for me to submerge, and whenever I 
try to enter it the waterfall washes me away. Any ideas?" 

A solution to that problem occurred to Miranda, but so did a potential
drawback. "How often must you visit the cave in order to store your 
eggs there?" 

"Just once. I'll place food in the cave. The spawn will consist of
workers, soldiers, hunters, and breeders. The workers will be more than 
strong enough to overcome the waterfall and will bring the rest out of 
the cave when the time is appropriate." 

"I think I can solve your problem. If I can, will you promise not to
harass Vargus anymore?" 

"Vargus, yes. He is too tough to eat but is fun to sting. It's too bad.
We lived in peace, once." 

"What happened?" 

"He was forming words on my back one day. I could read them and then
respond by sending my thoughts. In this way we conversed. I became 
bored and stung him. I regret it, though. He could have helped me with 
the waterfall." 

"Do you promise?" 

"Well...I suppose." 

She removed the umbrella from her hair. Fortunately the journey with the
vine hadn't dislodged it, nor had the gnomes confiscated it. She leaned 
forward and tapped Sting with the umbrella. 

"Go on," said Miranda. "Lay your eggs." 

Sting submerged. While she was gone, Miranda stuck the umbrella in her
hair, leaving it open. She resumed panning. A gnome strolled by but 
didn't seem to notice the umbrella or the additional vine in the area. 
Ten minutes had passed when Sting returned. 

"It's done," said Sting. " I will not trouble Vargus anymore. I thank
you." 

She turned to the vine. "Vargus--" 

The rustling of the tendrils interrupted her. 

I HEARD HER I HOPE YOU ARE RIGHT 

The vine slithered toward the water, dragging the words with it. It
entered the current and halted inches from Sting. Then it retracted, 
returning to Miranda. She saw the tendrils assemble new words. 

WE HAVE A DEAL 

"What about the gnomes?" 

I AM CONFERRING WITH THEM NOW 

Minutes passed. She hoped this worked, because she couldn't imagine
another way to escape. 

She was about to begin sifting in the tin plate again when she felt the
vine begin to pull her ankle. 

IT IS DONE PREPARE TO TRAVEL 

Suddenly the vine was dragging Miranda up the slope by the ankle. It
likewise was dragging everyone stationed along the stream. Miranda 
reached the place where she had entered the cavern. More vines 
descended and enveloped her, wrapping around her limbs. Then she was 
rising fast. She glimpsed the rim of the stump, and then glimpsed trees 
and daylight. Then, abruptly, the journey stopped. The vines tipped her 
upright and disengaged from her body, leaving her standing. She saw 
that she was in the back yard of her house. The vines retreated into 
the forest at a rapid pace. 

The rain shower that had started before the vine abducted her had
ceased. She closed the umbrella and stowed it in a pocket of her 
breeches. She had been wrong about Edgar; he still had not returned 
from the village. She collected the axe she had dropped earlier. The 
log was still propped on the stump, waiting to be split. She went to 
the stump, raised the axe... 

She tossed the axe aside. Why bother? She knew perfectly well what Edgar
was doing in the village. Who needs Edgar, anyway? She could take care 
of herself. She marched into the house and packed a few things.


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