The World of Sharlain

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The World of Sharlain Page 13

by Peter Ponzo


  Constable David Kochewski rubbed his neck and took another drink of coffee. Peter began to explain, but Tony interrupted.

  "Sorry old man but when I saw a revolver in your hand I assumed you were going to shoot poor old Pete here. I didn't really expect a nosy neighbor to call the police. Are you okay?"

  The police officer grinned. "Yeah, just a sore neck. The neighbor said you broke into the house. Why?" He was staring at Tony, frowning.

  "I didn't hear the door bell," said Peter apologetically, turning to Tony. "Sorry. I wanted to stay awake until you arrived but I was so tired, I haven't been sleeping too well."

  Tony nodded. "Peter and I had an appointment, to go somewhere at 7, and I was worried when he didn't answer the door. So I let myself in."

  "And you two are friends, and Mr. Jacobs, I assume you don't want to register a complaint."

  "Yes, I mean no," stuttered Peter. "Tony? Should we tell him what happened?"

  Tony got up and held out his hand. "Glad to have met you David. It's good to know the police are on the job. Hope we didn't put you to any trouble."

  Constable Kochewski looked at Tony's extended hand, put down his partially full cup of coffee and shook the hand, then walked to the door.

  "No. No trouble at all." He left, looking slightly confused. Tony watched him drive away then closed the door.

  "Peter, if we tried to explain about the World of Sharlain he wouldn't believe us. I think we're in this alone." Tony paused, leaned toward Peter and said in a low voice: "Now, are you ready to visit Dan's house?"

  Peter nodded vigorously and they left without delay. The neighbor was peering out from behind the curtain as they drove by.

  *****

  It was quite dark when Tony's car drove slowly past Dan Woller's house. He continued for a block and parked. They both got out and walked back, trying to avoid being seen. The neighboring houses were dark so they walked directly to the back of Dan's house and Tony broke the glass in the back door, reached through and unlocked the door. In a few minutes they had drawn the drapes to those windows that weren't already covered in plywood and went about investigating each room. Each had a flashlight and they stayed together, starting on the first floor and making their way to each room, then on to the second floor. There was nothing unusual. Except for the dust and boarded windows it seemed as though Dan still lived there, or had left in a hurry. There were still clothes in the closets and drawers, the kitchen cabinets were filled with canned goods and the fridge was full of food.

  "Let's try the basement," whispered Tony, "but I have a funny feeling that we aren't going to find anything unusual, or anything that would help us into Sharlain."

  They climbed down the stairs to the basement and shone the flashlights into every corner: boxes, stacks of books, a small workshop with saws and hammer and cans of screws and nails. There was a small room in the corner. They pulled on the door, but it was locked.

  "Must be a key around here somewhere," muttered Tony.

  "I think we're wasting our time. It's an ordinary house. And I don't quite like this breaking in. It's not legal and -"

  Tony raised his hand and Peter stopped talking. Tony reached up between the ceiling joists and pulled a key from a nail, placed it carefully into the lock and turned. The door swung open and they both thrust their flashlights into the small room. It was empty.

  "Dan obviously locked this room before he left," said Tony, stepping inside the room and running his hands over the concrete block walls. "Yet it's empty. Why would he lock an empty room?" He stepped out.

  Peter peered into the room and shone his flashlight over the opened door, then down the walls, then across the basement floor.

  "Tony, there's something fishy here. The inside of the room is too small. Look at this. The room was built for cold storage. It's directly under the back porch and has walls of concrete blocks inside. But the basement wall, on the other side, it's wood studs and drywall. Not concrete. That means there's a false wall ... here."

  Peter placed his hand on the basement wall next to the storage room. Tony stood back and nodded his head.

  "Okay, let's tear it down."

  "Hey! This isn't our house. We can't just tear down a wall."

  But Tony Shugart was already pulling at the drywall. Soon Peter was pulling as well, and as the wall fell away in pieces they could see the dark space between the wall of the basement and the concrete wall of the storage room. They stopped and shone their flashlights. The space was empty.

  "Wait a minute," grumbled Tony. "Why would anybody build a false wall outside the storage room, with an empty space inside, then lock the door to the storage room, and it's empty too? It makes no sense."

  "Unless the space behind the false wall did hold something, at one time, and Dan took it with him." Peter paused, then whispered: "Tony, I think we should get out of here. I don't like the idea of breaking into Dan's house. Let's go back to my place and we can talk about it."

  Tony murmured something, looked about quickly, then nodded agreement.

  It was almost 10 o'clock when they arrived at Peter's house. They sat around the kitchen table, each with a cold bottle of beer, munching on pretzels.

  Tony opened the conversation. "If Dan Woller didn't have a secret door to this other world, then how did he get back there? And why lock an empty storage room? And why build a false wall with nothing inside?"

  "Maybe Dan had one of those amulets with the words on it. Maybe he just rubbed it, said the magic words and got back that way."

  "Then we won't be able to get into Sharlain without an amulet. If we're to get into Sharlain we have to assume that there's another way, another entrance. Besides, that doesn't explain the locked, empty room and false wall."

  They both drank and chewed and thought about it, without saying a word. At 11 o'clock Tony left. They agreed to meet again the following night.

 

  The following evening, Peter waited until after 9 o'clock, but Tony never showed up. Peter called the Security office and they said that Tony wasn't available.

  In fact, Tony hadn't showed up for work at all that day.

  Peter called Constable David Kochewski and tried to explain, over the phone, the mysterious events that led to the vanishing of his wife. David came to Peter's house the next morning and Peter repeated the story.

  "I don't believe a word of this," grunted David. "But I checked up on Tony Shugart. He's a big chief in Security. If he believed this story then I assume he went back to that house again. How did you get in the last time you went?"

  "We broke the glass, the back door of the house."

  "Christ," muttered David. "Okay, let's go. We'll go in the same way."

  When they got to Dan Woller's house, David stared for a moment at the broken glass, hesitated, then pulled the door open. He waited for Peter who went directly to the basement.

  They found Tony's body on the floor of the storage room. He was dead. Peter moaned softly as David Kochewski bent to examine the body. The body was covered in bright red welts and the left hand was missing; ripped from the body.

  At the base of the concrete wall several blocks were missing. From the space beyond the blocks came a soft light and they both pulled away the remaining drywall just outside the storage room and found the opening: a hole in the block wall which lead into a dark vault. David stepped through the opening, but Peter hesitated. A house built with a hollow vault, beneath the ground? He looked about for a light switch. There was none. Why a hollow? A wine cellar? A cold storage, for preserves?

  Then he followed David.

  Their eyes began to see in the darkness, walls rising to a vaulted ceiling soaring to unimaginable heights, the far wall too remote to observe. They gazed out across the vast expanse, spires of stone rising forbidding to the ceiling. A path of small tiles wound its way to beyond the spires and they stepped onto the first tile, and followed where it led until the path stopped before a golden
tower of stone. Embedded in the base of the tower a plate of gold surmounted by two embossed dragons, each with nostrils flaring, flaming. An inscription:

  Borgo-nom achewan. No-nopawno agerwan.

  "Christ," muttered Peter. "Oh Christ. Those words. Are we in Sharlain?" He turned to David. "Are we?"

  David did not speak, but stared at the cavern, then at the golden tower. Then they heard the scraping, the wheezing, and David backed slowly away, still staring at the tower. It was Peter who first saw the creature, but it was too late. A long arm reached out and clutched David's leg in a jagged claw. He screamed as the claw snapped his leg. Peter saw the great lobster-like creature and staggered back, falling against the tower. David lost another leg, torn bleeding from his body. He was being devoured and there was nothing that Peter could do. David's screams echoed in his head as he climbed back through the opening in the stone wall, finding himself in the basement again. He looked about, frantically, saw the tools in the workshop: a hammer, boxes of nails, an axe. He grabbed the saw and axe and climbed back through the opening. David was on the floor by the tower, motionless, the creature swaying above the body, wild red eyes flashing. Peter screamed and leapt forward, attacking the creature, hacking through its long arms with the saw in one hand and the axe in another. The beast backed away, vanishing among the shadows. Peter was shaking, but he dragged David's body through the opening, across the basement floor, as far from the opening into Sharlain as he could manage. He fell exhausted on the bottom stair, gasping for breath, still holding David and listening for any sound, but it was quiet but for his own breathing.

  *****

  David Kochewski spent two weeks in the hospital. Both legs were gone and his left arm was torn and failed to respond to stimuli, but he was alive. Peter Jacobs visited him each day. It wasn't until the second week that they spoke of the Door to Sharlain.

  "You know, I really didn't believe any of that crap you told me," said David in a hoarse voice. "But Christ, did you see that bloody monster that attacked me? There's nothing in this world like that. I really think we entered some other world, through that hole in the basement wall. I don't think I'd like to live in Sharlain. Is that what they look like, the creatures of Sharlain?" He paused then said, slowly: "What about your wife? How could she survive in that world?"

  Peter was sitting on a stool beside the bed, hands folded in his lap. He felt like crying.

  "She went in another way, with the amulet. Maybe ... maybe she didn't run up against that, that thing." He paused and spoke in a low voice. "David, I really am sorry. It's my problem, not yours and now, look what I've done."

  "Listen old man, I went in with my eyes wide open and I wouldn't have come out alive if you hadn't come in with that saw and hacked away at the beast. I appreciate that, believe me, I really do."

  There was a long silence, then Peter said: "I have to go in again. I have to find Gloria. She has the amulet and I assumed that she could use it to get back, but for some reason she hasn't." He hesitated.

  "Peter? What's wrong?" David said.

  "After Gloria left, into that other world, I was in shock. I just lay on the sofa, trembling, with my eyes closed. When I opened my eyes I saw her, just for a moment. Maybe she did come back. Maybe ... " He shook his head as though to clear it. "I have to go in again," he said firmly.

  David knew it was no use to argue. If he were in Peter's shoes he would do the same thing: reenter the World of Sharlain.

  "I understand," he said. "But be careful will you? And take that axe, or, better still, take my service revolver. You'll find it in the closet over there. Take it, and take a box of bullets."

  Peter rose from his chair and they stared at each other for several minutes, then Peter turned and walked to the closet. He fumbled for a moment, removed a revolver from a jacket in the closet, then a small box half-filled with bullets, then left. David watched him go, then said a silent prayer.

  It was dark when Peter Jacobs drove up the driveway and parked the car. He had just locked the car door and turned toward the house when he saw the light in the living room.

  "Oh Christ. Oh Christ." He reached into his coat and removed the revolver, checking that it was loaded, then went to the window and looked into the living room. Sitting on the sofa, reading, was his wife. His legs felt like wax and he nearly fainted.

  "Gloria!" he cried, and Gloria looked at the window, squinted at the dark window, then smiled.

  They sat for what seemed like hours. Gloria made coffee, but Peter drank none. She had told him of their adventures in Sharlain and he had described the Door in Dan's basement. Then she said: "Peter, we have to go in again. Tom is dead, but Gordon and Clay are still in danger and we have to do something. I realize now that when I rub the amulet and say the words I'll just reappear back here, precisely where I was when I left. You can imagine how surprised I was when I left that snowy ledge on the mountain, that big old dragon staring at me, and found myself sitting here on the sofa. But this time we'll go back with something from this world that will give us an advantage. I've been browsing through the phone book, trying to get some ideas of what to bring."

  Peter held up the revolver. "Like this?" His voice was cracking.

  "Yes, just like that, but more. When we go back in we'll show up within a mountain and I don't really like the idea of walking for days through the blue hills and across the desert. It'll take forever to get anywhere and we don't have that much time." Gloria looked about the room as though she expected to see what to bring.

  "Let's take our car. We can drive across the desert," suggested Peter.

  "If we sit in the car and rub the amulet and say the words, will we both go into Sharlain, with the car? We can't be sure of that."

  "But when you went last time you carried your clothes with you. They were on your back and they went too, didn't they?" He paused and frowned. "Or did you show up naked?" Peter looked worried.

  "Don't worry darling, I was fully clothed. Anyway, we can't take the car even if it would go with us. We'll wind up in the cave, in a mountain. We need something that will take us around Sharlain and yet be portable enough to get off the mountain."

  They were both silent, thinking, then Peter said, "A balloon. How about a balloon? We can take the pieces in, one at a time, then just float off the mountain. How about that?"

  "Do you know how to operate a balloon?"

  "Well, it should be easy enough. Don't you just fill it with hot air and float and drop bags of sand or something, to go up, and release the air to go down? Besides, what other choice have we?"

  Gloria looked about the room again, then at the ceiling, then at Peter.

  "I have another idea," she said. "How about motor scooters?"

  "But how do we get them down a mountainside?"

  "Maybe we don't have to. The last time, Tom went down some stairs, from the cave, and came out on a grassy plain, at the base of the mountain. We can do it that way." Gloria paused. "There's just one thing. There's some horrific creature at the bottom of the stairs. We'll have to deal with it."

  "Horrific creature? Does is have long arms and claws and does it bite?"

  "Yes, but Tom handled it quite well, and he didn't have a gun."

  "No! That's out, definitely! Do you know what it did to David Kochewski! That's out!" Peter rose to his feet, shaking.

  "But how do you know it's the same creature? How do you know -"

  "No! That's out!" he shouted.

  "Okay sweetheart. We'll just have to think of some other way." Gloria pointed to the chair and Peter slipped into it, breathing heavily. "We do have a gun, so we can protect ourselves, just in case we meet something like that creature." She was looking down into her lap, then looked up at Peter. "I wonder if a gun would kill such an animal?" She waited for a response.

  "Yes, I think it would," he murmured. "Have you seen the size of the bullets? Enormous. It would tear a hole ..." Peter paused, stared at Gloria, shook his head.
"I'm no hero, but I did go in with just a saw and axe and scared it away. Okay, let's try it," he grunted. The image of the creature was still vivid in his mind and he clutched the revolver.

  The next day they bought two small motor scooters, pushed them into the garage and sat on them. They held hands and Gloria rubbed the amulet and said the words, and they vanished, together, again into Sharlain.

  CHAPTER 11

  Dragomir

  The haze of early morning sat in the valley and the silver stream below made its way with a shining that came ghostly through the haze. In the distance, across the grassy plains of ochre, rose the blue hills of Dragomir and beyond, the misty peaks of the Mountains of Mune. At a dark opening in the mountain, two figures stood.

  "Sharlain," muttered Peter. "That's Sharlain." He turned to Gloria. "Where do we go from here?"

  Gloria was standing on the top step which led to the cavern below, the scooter by her side, her gaze intent upon the dark stairway. She began the descent with bouncing scooter and the light increased with each step and Peter followed until they came to the path of tiles which wound its way to beyond the spires and they stepped onto the first tile, and followed where it led until the path stopped before the golden tower of stone.

  "This must be it," said Gloria quietly. "I think if we just touch this tower and say the words ..."

  Peter gasped. The floor was covered in blood.

  "My God! Look at the floor! The blood! This ... this is where David lost his legs. This is where we came, from Dan's basement. There's a dreadful monster around here." He pulled the revolver from his pocket and turned to gaze across the glowing cavern. There was no sign of any entrance to Dan Woller's basement. They listened, but no sound came. Gloria spoke softly.

  "We should forget the monster. Let's just get out of here. Peter, the words are inscribed on this plaque. You go first. Just touch the plaque and say the words, then wait for me. If I'm not mistaken you'll find yourself out there on the plains."

 

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