antishurtugal_reborn | Forged By Fire Sporking: Part Seven

Part Seven: Thunder and Lightning, Very Very Frightening

So Zarq and the others fly through the storm despite this being a really, really bad idea. In fact it’s such a bad idea that it all goes wrong less than two paragraphs in. The wind keeps jerking Zarq’s dragon around, so she grabs her knife and tries to cut the halter attaching it to the dragon behind them. This works, and Zarq then forgets all about it and starts expositing about the stuff we missed, which readers will recall is a trick Paolini pulls repeatedly in Inheritance, ie. open with some sort of action hook, then infodump about what led up to it anyway. Savga is flying with Ryn (who’s probably still naked, yuck), and they’ve tied her to the saddle. Lovely. The dragonmaster is on a third dragon with one of the villagers giving him directions. There’s lots of really loud thunder and such, and Zarq’s dragon decides to land in the middle of the jungle. She loses sight of the others. Oe noes!

The dragon stays sitting in the tree where it landed, and eventually the storm dies down. Zarq angsts about how Savga might be dead, and has a go at getting her dragon to fly off again, and eventually manages to get her to move by kicking her like she’s a horse. They fly over the jungle for a bit, and Zarq spots another dragon. But there’s nobody riding it, so cue more angst. Oh no, not Savga! She imagines the kid’s broken body lying in a tree somewhere, and it’s all very dramatic. Oh no is the stupid kid okay, etcetera etcetera, can we move along now?

Zarq’s dragon flies off along a river with the other one following. She sees a caiman. The dragon starts gliding and this is cause for more Purple:

Silence, save for the delicate whisper of flight. A song of strength and freedom and hope, that. A song that encapsulates the distance to the stars, the greatness of the skies, the marvel and immensity of life. For a heartbeat I knew peace. For a heartbeat I was suspended in that silent glide, no action expected of me, no decisions required. The lush, silent profusion of creation had inhaled, and I and my dragon were suspended in that pocket of time before it would exhale.

To the dragon I said, “If everyone could see what we have seen, perhaps there would be less fighting in the world.”

Perhaps life is made sweet by the knowledge that it will never come again.

Okay, how long did it take you to realise that I inserted a line from Inheritance? Show of hands.

For the sky is hollow and the world is round, indeed. Are you sure Cross and Paolini aren’t related?

The dragon decides to land again, and Zarq thanks the “Infinite Winged”, whatever the hell that is. While the dragon has a drink, Zarq hops off and bolts her wings. Apparently the dragon has “withers”. Yup, just like a horse. She bolts the other dragon as well, because if either of them fly back to their stable Ghepp will be able to alert someone that all his winged dragons have been stolen (which they have. Apparently the six Zarq made off with were all they had).

And galloo gallay oh frabjous day, the second dragon isn’t the one Savga was riding so maybe the kid’s okay. Zarq convinces herself that yes, the kid’s fine, and cue another eyeroll from me:

She was alive and hale, and though some might argue that my belief was denial, or desperate hope, or a delusion necessary to maintain my sanity, I say that one doesn’t need to look upon the moon to know that its light is what one sees by night. And the spirit of a child shines as distinctly as celestial light. Even at great distances.

I swear, as this thing limps on the prose is growing steadily more and more incoherent.

Zarq decides to lead her dragons upriver in the hopes of finding the rebels. One of them keeps trying to catch toads by hitting them with her tongue, but it doesn’t work and Zarq reflects that if she still had her venom she’d have taught plenty of them. This leads me to wonder just what dragon venom is for in the first place. What purpose does it serve in the wild? I mean, every venomous animal I’ve ever heard of has been small. I’ve sure as hell never heard of any venomous creature which was also the size of a four-horse logging wagon.

Zarq plods along with the dragons, occasionally calling for Savga, which is melodramatic and doesn’t accomplish anything. And then something truly priceless happens.

Okay, gang – brace yourselves. You are not prepared for this.

One of the dragons, who Zarq has dubbed “Warthog” because of her damaged nose (they have warthogs now?), jams her head inside a hollow tree and drags out – wait for it – a giant snail.

I’m not kidding. It’s a giant snail. The “size of a durian fruit”, apparently.

Unfortunately the snail doesn’t eat Zarq. Instead the dragon just rips it out of its shell and nobs down on tasty snail bacon. She goes back for another helping, and the other dragon, “Toadhunter” joins in. Zarq suddenly has an incredibly vivid flashback to memories of being a baby dragon foraging inside a tree and needing to be rescued by her mother.

Once again, it would seem the “dragonsong” is starting to form itself into coherent information at random moments. Just why this is happening I don’t know, and I don’t think it’s ever explained.

Anyway, Zarq snaps out of it just in time to get jumped by a gang of Djimbi. The Djimbi, who apparently looked just like a bunch of logs and moss until they started moving, talk to the dragons in their own language. Apparently the Djimbi have Galbatorix’s sexy, sexy voice, going on the effect this has on Zarq, who describes the words as “sooth[ing] as warm yolk sauce in an empty belly, enfold[ing] like a down-padded quilt on a blustery night”, among other things. This “entrances” the dragons, who calm right down and go back to their snail hunting.

We now get a description of the Djimbi, who Zarq label “freeborn” and “pureblood”. They’re green and brown and blend in perfectly with the shrubbery. Basically what we have here is army style stealth camouflage, in skin and hair form. Well, the women have the hair, anyway. All the men are bald. The women meanwhile are all topless, so of course we’re treated to more descriptions of boobs.

Blah blah, the men have “hard, lean buttocks”, all of them are “lean and sinewy” (the author really seems to like the word “lean”. She’s used it enough times that I’ve started craving steak). One of the women has “eyes like chips of jade”, and seriously, what is it with the weird descriptions of eyes? One of the other women gives Zarq an “arrogant and menacing” look. Zarq remembers all the scary stories she was told as a child, about how the Djimbi are cannibals who use human skulls as crockery and – oh, this is rich – “knew dragons in the most abominable of ways, inserting fingers and tongues and cocks into leathery orifices”.

Which is just so wrong and disgusting. When you do it with a dragon, you’re supposed to be the receiver, not the giver! What a bunch of perverts.

The woman talks to Zarq, who can’t understand the language, and Zarq takes a moment to think about how she could really do with some booze. Me too, but since when was Zarq a drinker? Finally the woman uses hand gestures to tell Zarq to come with them and bring the dragons. High and Mighty Zarq is offended by the woman’s “imperious mien” (oh do shut up, and while you’re at it, take your thesaurus and shove it where the sun shineth not). Even so the spears and blow-darts are enough to persuade her, so she goes with them.

Will this lead to her beginning yet another New Life among a new people? I really really really hope not.

End chapter.

We are now 164 pages in with about 160 more to go, and the plot still hasn’t gone anywhere.

In the next chapter, Zarq travels with the Djimbi for “a day and a night”. They don’t sleep at night (are they related to Paoelves?). The Djimbi “moan”, “cough” and “croak”, and Zarq deduces that they’re using “barbaric magics” to help them travel. She remembers the time when her mother used this sort of noise to evoke “magics of clay and birth and creation” to do battle with “a dirge-summoned python intent on death”. Lolwhut? Is that was what was supposed to be happening in that weird, confusingly described scene back in book one? Because I really did not pick up on that at all. Bad description does that.

Either way this racket, now referred to as a “threnody” (seriously, dude, get rid of the fucking thesaurus) makes the plants move around weirdly. Zarq reflects that she’s been “plunged into a netherworld where the insentient brooded, the stationary stirred, and the sexless fucked.” Um, what?

Look, can we just ditch the damn description and move along already? Don’t make me break out the red pen.

Oh, but it gets worse.

“I was compelled to follow the Djimbi, and the foliage parted before me like dark legs spreading wide, directing me into a wet, hidden centre.”

EW NO. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?

“There comes a point where fear turns into a sterile land without horizons, and to cross such a blighted expanse one must crawl into the deep quiet of oneself.”

Uh…

“I crawled into that inner space and remained there until dawn”

Now how about you stay in your symbolic jungle womb thingy forever, or until you can be reborn as a character I don’t want to garotte with a piano wire?

The next morning it’s pissing down rain, and Zarq shares some raw meat with the Djimbi. She thinks of them as “predators”. Because they hunt animals for food? Right, whatever. Has anyone noticed how arrogantly judgemental Zarq is toward other people? Because it’s getting worse. Meanwhile the dragons are both sick because their injured noses have gotten infected, and the woman who made Zarq come along with them, now dubbed “Longstride”, mimes for Zarq to carry the saddles rather than leave them on the dragons. Zarq gets pissy at Longstride because she’s strong, certain and graceful, and has the upper hand on her. This is a recurring thing with Zarq, as I’m sure you’ve all noticed. She just can’t stand confident, attractive women, and gets pissy and resentful every time she encounters one. Witness her reaction to both Beauty and Tansan. I’m betting it’s because they subconsciously remind her of her horrible mother, which is an interesting bit of subtext you’re free to discuss in the comments while I get on with the (harhar) “story”.

But alas, Zarq can’t carry the saddles because she’s too weak from starvation in the dungeon (what starvation?) and then getting caught in the storm. That’s just become her go-to excuse for everything, hasn’t it? Wah wah, I’m too weak and sick, wah wah, please coddle me. Woman the fuck up, Zarq! My mum is tougher than you, and she’s a fuckin’ cancer survivor!

Then she suddenly has a withdrawal attack and goes into convulsions. Longstride turns out to be packing venom, in “a leather bladder as withered and deflated as a eunuch’s scrotal sac”. Still dumping on eunuchs, I see. You damn bigot.

Zarq pounds down some venom, but Longstride gets pissed and it turns out she actually wants Zarq to use the venom on the dragons. With some help from the Djimbi she mixes up a “poultice”, which they apply to the injured dragon “nares”. This seems to help, and then Longstride suddenly comes over her sporting green nipple pokies and feels Zarq up before taking a “lock” of her hair (I guess it grew back at some point without notice) and weaving it into her own hair. Zarq has absolutely no idea what the significance of this is or how she should react, instead repeating that she doesn’t understand. Longstride is supremely pissed, and the Djimbi have a nasty argument amongst themselves before heading off again. And now Longstride is furious at Zarq for whatever reason. Hey, it’s not her fault she can’t speak your language, lady. At least she didn’t make friends with your kid.

They reach the Djimbi village, where Zarq meets a really fat lady who seems to be someone of importance, because she’s wearing lots of gold necklaces and a “fine leather cape” with a silver clasp. Apparently she’s literally the only fat person in the tribe; everyone else is “tall” and “lean” (there’s that word again).

Blinged-Out Fat Lady isn’t wearing any pants, and of course we get a description of what her cooch smells like. Apparently it’s “musky” and “overwhelming”. Yeah, that tends to happen when you don’t wash yourself properly. Your average vagina has this gross habit of making mucus (it’s nature’s lube!) which really starts to stink after a while if you don’t have good hygiene. It gets ten times worse when you’re on the rag, which is one reason why we get so cranky when it’s That Time of the Month.

…look, if I have to put up with endless descriptions of smelly dicks, I’m allowed to inflict gross vagina stuff on the rest of you. I’m just sayin’, having one isn’t all sunshine and roses.

Mother Bling, as I’ve decided to call her, checks out Zarq’s eyes. Zarq looks back at her and realises she’s done “the rite” too, many times, because they have “the same eyes”.

Our dark pupils bore shards of white, as if embedded with tiny stars. Our sclera was not white, but a mass of red filaments, of bloody rivulets, of venom channels.

Been studying ophthalmology have we, Zarq? I mean really.

Mother Bling says something, Longstride shouts back and gets a response, and everyone gets very excited. I will say one good thing about this scene: the Djimbi dialogue isn’t written out, so we don’t have to wade through pages of untranslated made-up speech a la Paolini and his dwarf opera babble.

Longstride grabs Zarq, and she sees her dragons being led away. Zarq flies off the handle, yelling about how they’re hers and to bring them back. Longstride just grins and sticks her fist between Zarq’s legs, touching her “sex”. You know, the thing that was cut off almost ten years ago and therefore isn’t available for any sort of touching.

As happened last time, Longstride waits for the “correct” response. What she gets instead is Zarq spitting in her face.

The Djimbi are all infuriated, and under orders from Mother Bling they drag Zarq away, then tie her down with her wrists and ankles tied to stakes hammered into the ground, with her legs apart. They also put vines around her throat, so she strangles if she tries to struggle.

Wow, that’s a hell of a reaction for something as relatively mild as spitting at someone. Which might I add was done in response to being sexually harassed twice and having her property stolen. Guess the Djimbi are violent jackasses just like everyone else Zarq has met so far.

One of the kids runs off into a “yurt”, because apparently we’re in Mongolia now, and the Djimbi begin some sort of ritual with masks and chanting (they’re primitive tribal types – what else did you expect?). One of the masks has a “suctionlike cup”, which is “wobbly as unset rubber”. How does Zarq know what rubber is? This mask obviously represents a kwano snake, and a bunch of others show up, dancing around and rattling bones.

(If you’re wondering why I’m going into so much detail here, it’s because this little dance party is actually rather important. And no, it will never be explained what prompted them to do this).

Then a woman shows up, naked except for a dragon costume, and “ululates” at the sky. She harasses Zarq a bit, then acts out becoming slow and tired and wraps herself up in her wings. The people in snake masks surround her, dance around a bit, and then vanish. The dragon woman unfurls her wings and a bunch of maggots spill out, and as she rises Zarq realises that she’s now dressed as a male dragon with plumes on her mask. And now she reeks of venom for some reason.

Zarq waxes lyrical about how much venom Means to Her, while the dragon lady dances around and starts cutting her free. Zarq suddenly realises it’s Longstride in the costume, and then randomly remembers what Yellow Face told her back in book one – that the dragonsex rite doesn’t involve force or anyone being exploited, but is “a divine exchange between beast and woman”. Right. This prompts Zarq to lie still after being cut loose, and Longstride – ugh – gets on top of her and “thrust[s] venom into [Zarq’s] womb”.

Again, this is not how wombs work. You can’t stick your fingers in there. It’s physically impossible. I can’t believe this thing was seriously written by a woman.

Zarq orgasms, then rolls Longstride over and returns the favour. Ah, there’s nothing like a nice session of fingerbanging with a complete stranger in front of a bunch of other people including children. Zarq has another orgasm, howls like a loon, then cuts a lock of Longstride’s hair and braids it into her own. I guess it must have gotten pretty long by now, then. Then she falls over, tripping on venom, and realises that now she knows the secret to breeding bull dragons.

Yup, after two and a half long books, the protagonist finally has the McGuffin. Wanna know what the big secret was all along? It’s not explained here, but it will be later, and here it is.

When the old female dragons go into their cocoon thingies they’re not actually dying. They’re metamorphosing into males. And so because people keep destroying the cocoons, none of them ever get to complete the process.

Don’t ask me how the maggots factor in.

And apparently this has never once happened by accident. Seems legit.

Might I add, Zarq got the MacGuffin by having sex, and borderline rape sex at that. You see what I mean about how everything in this series somehow revolves around sex? What’s next – Zarq goes to the supermarket and all the shelves are shaped like boobs? Zarq goes to the local fair to get some fairy floss, only to find that you can’t get in without performing a specific sex act with a Dagwood Dog? I’ve heard of porn that had less flimsy excuses for the characters to start getting freaky. I mean, for fuck’s sake! Literally! It’s all for the sake of the fucks!