Darkin: A Journey East (6 page)

It sounded like a horrible shriek—nothing he could fathom a source for. Though he’d never heard one, nor knew if they truly existed, Adacon thought the screech had sounded like a demon. Quickly he sat up and regained his bearing, grabbing his sword from the sand. The noise hadn’t been imagined, he knew, and he wondered if it was from the same creature as before. He hadn’t been alert enough to determine what direction the noise had come from; he knew by its intensity it had to be close. He stood up and gripped his sword tight, frantically scanning for anything visible in the blackness. No sound came, and he could see nothing amid the black dunes. Finally, after standing rigid for another half-hour, he reluctantly decided that the noise had been a harmless animal. It would be a much more fearful thing—he tried to convince himself—if the noise had seemed human. Without waking Erguile from his slumber, Adacon found himself lying down again and falling fast asleep with his sword on his chest, still gripped firmly by his right hand. A dreamless slumber overtook him.

*                  *                 *

Adacon awoke first and sat up to find he was sweating. The desert had grown miserably hot already. The sun had risen high overhead; it appeared they had slept long into the morning. He arose to stretch his limber form and rouse his senses for the day. The desert stretched all around him. He yawned deep and turned to wake Erguile, nudging him softly.

“Ack, I had the most horrible dream,” Erguile said, startled as if from another dimension. “It felt real… I daresay I may have been in some other world. You and I had found Krem’s house finally. We had begun to make conversation with the little thing when it soon became clear that he was a great evil wizard. He attacked us with jets of flames and fireballs. It was terrible… I remember my sword being melted from within my grasp. I sorrow to say he managed to catch you ablaze, and I would have been next I think, had you not woken me.” Erguile clumsily rubbed his head and rolled over to sit upright. Adacon didn’t respond to the fearful dream.

“It’s hot today. I wouldn’t have guessed in my little knowledge of desert countries that they were
this
hot. I knew they were said to…” Erguile stopped talking mid-sentence. Adacon had been facing the eastern sky—his back to Erguile as he listened—until the abrupt pause. Adacon turned around to see what the matter was; Erguile was staring at the ground beside them, and Adacon realized what was wrong. Erguile had gone to bed with two swords, the ones he had snatched from the farm; he had set them by his side, one next to the other—now there was one. Adacon quickly checked to make sure all his own gear was intact, having forgotten about the weapons until present. All of Adacon’s supplies were still there, exactly where they had been laid out the night before. They stared in puzzlement.

“How in Darkin… last night you never woke me for watch; did you fall asleep?” asked Erguile.

“I’m sorry I did, but there didn’t appear to be any danger. I kept a watch for most of the night, and I didn’t want to wake you, thinking you’d need the rest.”

“This makes no sense at all then. How could my sword be gone? I did go to sleep last night with two, didn’t I?” asked Erguile, growing increasingly baffled.

“I’m most certain you did, I remember you carrying them the whole walk. But you’re right… this is very strange. What on Darkin do you suppose would come upon us in the night and take for itself a single sword, leaving no other trace behind…” Adacon said, racking his brain. He decided not to mention the noises until Erguile calmed some. It dawned on Adacon that if anything had come in the night there would be some form of tracks in the soft sand surrounding their camp. They surveyed the area thoroughly but found no tracks but their own; they decided to give up the hunt and pick up their belongings. Erguile fastened his breastplate to his chest, which he had taken off for sleep—Adacon grimaced at the thought of wearing armor in the desert heat, and left his behind. They sat in silence eating a breakfast of bread and water before setting out.

“This truly confuses me, if not frightens me. I don’t want to spend another night in this forsaken desert, no...I think we should be quick on our way to this Krem’s dune—be he an evil wizard or not,” Erguile said. He stood and drew forth his sword.

“Whatever stole your sword, do you think it could really have concealed its tracks in the sand here, to no error?” Adacon asked.

“I reckon it may have left some trace, lest it was a winged creature, or one with the powers to walk in the clouds,” Erguile half joked. They set about another attempt, searching farther from the camp than they had first checked, looking again for any marks upon the sand.

“There!” Adacon cried. He pointed toward the tracks they themselves had left, still clearly visible as a scattered and broken line of ruffled sand winding into the desert. But it was not those tracks he had pointed at—there was another trail breaking away from theirs. The tracks led off in a different direction, disappearing behind a low dune.

“Perhaps we’ll find our culprit yet!” Erguile said, feigning enthusiasm for a hunt in the scorching heat.

“Well, at least let’s have a better look,” Adacon said, and they walked over to the foreign tracks. The sand was soft enough to prevent any precise imprint, nothing detailed enough that the markings could be discerned as human or otherwise. They were, however, roughly the size of the marks a human might leave. The trail could definitely be followed, they both knew, but the path seemed to go on interminably into the northwestern horizon. Adacon was almost certain they had passed Krem’s abode some way back, and he contemplated the futility of making an attempt at tracking the unknown thief.

“I doubt the sword would ever be worth our trouble. I don’t know what lies farther north, save maybe danger. I think we would do best to retrace my original tracks.”

“I suppose you’re right. Let’s do that then, though I don’t think this incident will easily pass out of my mind,” Erguile replied.

“Nor mine,” Adacon returned. “I hope we find shelter from this damned sun soon though, and that Krem will have some answers for us.”

“Let’s hope we can find something at all in this godforsaken place…” Erguile said. Adacon and he started toward their trail leading back west. They followed it without trouble for a short while, and sure enough Adacon saw a new trail diverge in the distance.

“There, up ahead on the right. Do you see it?” Adacon said cheerfully. Erguile scanned the dunes.

“Yes, are you sure it is your path from before?”

“Most sure—I turned right some to reach the place, I remember. I’d suspected that we’d passed it last night, but there was no way to tell in the dark.”

Sweating heavily, they reached the path Adacon had created the previous afternoon. They followed the old trail toward a dune that Erguile soon realized was more than just a pile of hot sand; a tiny green door came into view on its side, and he grew anxious as Adacon’s tale was confirmed with his own eyes. The green door grew larger as they approached the hidden fortress, and Erguile could begin to make out little windows on the dune now, and before long the sign on the door was also visible.

“Krem’ll be expecting us,” Adacon said jovially. “He’s an energetic old man, by all respects. I rather expect him to have food ready for our arrival.” As they neared the door, Adacon began to describe the cool air, the glittering pond, and the filled dining room deep beneath the sand. Finally, they arrived at the door—Erguile read for himself the words on it:

‘Molto’s Keeping.

Do Not Enter,

Lest You Fancy

Spirited Winds

To Sear Your Soul.’

“Shall I knock?” asked Erguile.

“Yes.”

“Alright.” Erguile knocked hard on the door three times as he glanced into the covered windows anxiously.

“Last time it took him a good bit of time to open up, so be patient. Inside it’s quite huge; he’ll have to travel some to get to the front door if he’s down below.” It was only an instant, however, and suddenly a voice came from a secret hole in the green door.

“Still alive I see. And just as I expected. I take this to be a new addition to your company, laddy? I am glad to see it, though I had hoped you’d get more than one from the errand. A moment lads…” Krem said, speaking through the hole, and suddenly the hole closed up and the door swung open. Erguile was taken aback at the appearance of the small, purple-robed man; Krem seemed to perfectly resemble the evil wizard of his dream.

“Come in!”

“You are Krem, the lonesome hermit of the sand dungeon, I presume?” asked Erguile warily as they stepped inside the cool interior.

“Ah, ‘tis I you script, lad. It is not a description that I would choose, mind. I think I shall befriend you anyway. I suppose slaves are a nice breed, though damned ignorant most of them are,” Krem chuckled as he led them into his home, laughing.

“Damned ignorant? What does that mean, I wonder, coming from a small man who has secluded himself from the world inside a sand dune?” retorted Erguile. Already Adacon feared the tension growing between Krem and Erguile.

“Hush yourself and I shall let you have food. Does that strike your fancy, young lad?” asked Krem. Erguile did not protest at the offering of food, and Adacon felt relieved to see the tension die.

“And what shall I call you?” asked Krem as he led them farther into the cavernous hallway.

“My name is Erguile. I am a slave of the same farm as Adacon here. Alas, I am the last of our fellow slaves. The plantation was retaken at dawn yesterday. The others are dead now, along with the foolish guards that chased after them. No doubt—the Red Forest has had its fill by now.”

“The Red Forest, a beautifully cruel place it is—in fact, it was not long ago I was traveling there and found the most peculiar creature; a marvelous beast that called itself Slowin. But I shall tell you more of the Deep Red when we are fixed with proper comforts, and you two are no longer ailed by hunger. Come! We must make haste, for Grelion never sleeps—no he doesn’t—never sleeps…” Krem said as he led them through the cool cavern. Erguile fell in love with its beauty just as Adacon had. Krem brought them to the great room with four branching halls, and they briskly walked down the path that led to the ladder. Krem and Adacon quickly descended, followed by a reluctant Erguile, who made the mistake of peering down first. In a moment they were all standing on the floor by the great crystal-reflecting pond.

Adacon walked to the corner and seated himself in the spot where he had eaten before as Krem went to fetch food. Erguile had not thought about food since he had arrived below, instead training his eyes upon the beautiful shimmer of the pond.

“It’s the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen! I don’t understand how such a place could have existed all these years without me having known. I am sorry, but I think I will stay here a good year before I set off with you, Adacon. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind, would you?” Erguile said as he stood off to the right of the ladder, near the edge of the pond, staring at the water’s wondrous illumination. The cave was eerily lit with no obvious source, and the ceiling shimmered with reflective sparkles, bouncing off the jagged rock roof. The pool was vast and clear, reflecting the glimmering ceiling, and no certain bottom could be seen within it, only a dark depth that descended beyond what eyesight was capable of seeing.

“I suppose if the pond has you so entranced that you won’t be of any use in battle, I can let you stay here. But I doubt Krem will let you stay all alone in his precious palace,” chuckled Adacon.

“Fine—then it shall be that once our quest is over, I’ll first return here and spend a decade or two, marveling at this place, and swim evermore in peace—save when I grow hungry and hit up his food stores!” Erguile rejoiced. Adacon was happy to see Erguile in such high spirits.

The pond
is
that beautiful, Adacon thought, and Erguile’s fantasy wasn’t so different from the way he himself had felt upon first seeing the place. Adacon thought of things to come; he wondered: if such a marvel lay so close to their farm, what beauty could the rest of the unknown world have in store for them?—and what evil? But his thoughts only swayed for a moment, as before long a sweet aroma of spiced meat filled the room. Adacon glanced off to a corridor that led into a room filled with cupboards and saw Krem coming with a tray full of platters. Erguile smelled succulent food too, and he seemed to forget the pond already as he rushed to a seat next to Adacon at the oaken table.

“After this feast, I think I shall go for a swim,” Erguile said. “How about you Adacon?”

“You will first have a good talk with me, Erguile, before I am to set you loose in my pool,” Krem uttered as he laid the tray of piping hot meat on the table.

“This looks delicious Krem,” Adacon said politely.

“Indeed it does! And I won’t be able to contain myself much longer if you don’t hurry your old bones Krem,” shouted Erguile in a frenzy. Adacon feared for his new friend after the cutting remark, but Krem remained as calm as ever.

Krem began spreading plates around the table. There were several large chunks of meat—dark and light—covered in different blends of spices. Krem laid out more plates filled with plenty of potatoes, corn, rice and bread. There was wine again, along with several vials of rainbow-colored juices. At last all the food was properly arranged and Krem sat down opposite them. Erguile could barely contain himself and his hands began to fidget. Krem took a good while getting comfortable in his oak chair, then looked toward his guests.

There was silence, but suddenly Erguile began to grapple with the assorted meats and place as many as he could onto his empty plate in a barbaric manner. He began to eat, nearly forgetting to chew, shoving everything down his throat and almost causing himself to choke. Immediately, Krem lifted his staff at Erguile’s head and brought it down with great force.

“Ow! The hell was that for old man? That hurt,” cried Erguile, rubbing his head and dropping meat from his hands. Adacon knew Erguile’s mistake, and sat in silence quashing his hunger for the moment in anticipation of Krem’s words.