A Hero's Journey

By midday, hunger gnawed at my stomach and my legs cramped. My feet barely lifted with each step. With only tea for breakfast and a berry the night before, I felt so weak I could barely hold my head up.
Caroob circled above me, keeping careful watch for the slightest danger. From time to time, he swooped down to me and urged me forward. “So much closer to the river now, Ah-moonsa,” he kept telling me.
“Tell me about the land, Caroob.” I staggered forward, sometimes wobbling from side to side.
“Green as far as the eye can see and corn growing to the sky.”
“My father spoke of the land beyond the river. After the drought started, he sent scouts to look for it, but they never came back.”
“The serpent killed a few men from your camp,” Caroob

Each day I notice a little more greenery on the banks. Birds sang in the trees and rabbits hopped along the ridge.
Caroob followed his normal routine—keeping watch from the sky above, occasionally swooping down to bring me mushrooms, berries, or pears. By daylight, daylight I trekked mile after mile. In the evenings, I settled down on the banks and stared at the stars until I fell asleep.
One morning, when the scent of moist driftwood hung in the air, Caroob flew ahead of me to check things out. A few moments became a long while and he was out of sight for longer than he had ever been before.
“Caroob!” My voice echoed off the creek bank.
When he didn't fly back, I worried I lost him. My eyes fixed on the sky, waiting for him to fly into sight. I scampered forward and, as I lowered my foot onto a sandbar, a bolt of searing pain shot through my foot and sizzled up my leg.
“Ahhhhh!” My whole body tensed as a howl rose from chest. Tears spilled from my eyes as my knees buckled. My body smacked the ground with a Thud!
Wincing and writhing I reached for my foot. A hideous brown creature—shaped like a spider with two front claws and a curled tail—crept inches from my leg.
“CA-ROOB!” I screeched, scooting away from the

“Ah-moonsa, help me.”
The snake-demon must have lost hold of him when he slipped into the water—or maybe it was like Yemora had said. The Water Spirits would not allow the demon to pass.
“Help me, please!”
I hurried to the river's edge, waded in. When the water was up to my chest, I reached him. Wrapped my arms around him. His flesh felt like touching icicles and his arms hung limply in the water.
Slipping, and sliding, I pulled him onto the river bank, but I didn't know what else to do for him.
“Mumba!” I howled. “Mumba!” And I slapped at his face to wake him.
I was in such a fit that I barely noticed the flutter of Caroob's wings. He swooped down onto the bank. Glanced at Mumba's body and then turned it yellow eyes to me. “Roll him onto his side,” Caroob said. “Get him on his side, so the water can run out.”
I tugged and lifted on his shoulder until his torso twisted and his head fell sideways.
“Now what?”
But before Caroob could answer, Mumba coughed and spewed a stream of water between his lips.
“Mumba!” I shouted.
He opened his eyes.
“Ah-moonsa?” he croaked. His eyes darted toward the trees. “Where are we?”
“We're...” I held up my hand as it occurred to me that I didn't have a name for the fertile land.