The Overending

by Rick Johnson

  As Ord drew near the beach, a world he had never imagined came into being around him. Like every other beast he knew, Ord had never ventured close to the Spook’nings before. Now, seeing the Spook’nings up close for the first time, the reality he had known disappeared. The evidence of fearful shipwrecks created an eerie atmosphere that was not apparent from the deck of a ship. The bleaching hulls of destroyed ships protruded from the sand like grasping skeleton fingers wearing massive rusted bolts as rings. Here and there, the bones of sea-beasts jutted out from piles of debris, seaweed, and shells washed up on the sand. Recent wrecks, ragged sails still trailing from shattered masts, lay turned on their sides. Masses of barnacles so completely covered the keels of some that they lost their original shape. Everywhere, great curtains of seaweed hung from parts of the wreckage submerged when the tide was high. The ghostly remains of broken voyages suggested that Ord truly had left one world and entered another.

  Upon seeing Ord’s approach, Bost ran out into the surf to help him. Together, they pulled Ord’s boat up on the beach. Sloshing through the surf, the mast of an old wreck shot up out of the sand almost perpendicular. The thought of an entire ship buried beneath him was unsettling. How many remains of drowned sea-beasts were also beneath his feet? How odd it suddenly felt to be walking across a sandy beach where so much tragedy had occurred, with no one to mourn or notice. The wrecks and bones simply kept piling up, year by year, with no one’s care. Ord could not imagine a more forsaken, desolate place.

  Bost was not in the same reflective mood. “What’s the trouble, Capt’n? I didn’t expect to see Dainty’s sailing up here so pretty!” His loud, echoing voice snapped Ord’s mind back to the situation at hand.

  “Many things went different than planned. Yes, Dainty’s out there, but she’s sailing without us,” Ord replied with a dark look. “Seems like there’s delay beyond what we’d hoped, and there’s a Battle Stallion cruiser bearing down on us. Thank Klemés and the crew for keeping the cruiser away from here, but it looks like we have our own problems…”

  Ord and Bost were barely noticed when they walked up to join the group on the beach.

  “No! No, I tell you!” the Lynx roared. “You will get that ship out of here!”

  “No, my dear beast,” Angelana replied firmly, “I can’t do that. Out of the question. Can’t be done.”

  “But you must!” the Lynx yelled. “That blasted tub is the first ship to come this close to shore—and now it stopped! You’ll destroy all my work!”

  Rolling her eyes, Angelana gave Ord a wry smile, “Well, dear beast, here’s the Captain of that ‘blasted tub’ out there—take it up with him.”

  “What’s the worry, good beast?” Ord asked.

  “It’s a bit confused, you see,” the Lynx began, “but the short of it is that your ship needs to leave.”

  “Easy enough to do,” Ord said. “As you see, she’s raising anchor right now. She’ll be out to sea in a few minutes.”

  “Well, that’s a blessing, and thank you,” the Lynx replied. “That ship anchored out there was just about waving and shouting, ‘Look over here!’ Too many things going on here for that.”

  “What things?” Ord asked.

  “Arrh-um, lots of things,” the Lynx said, “lizards and slaves, soak-potting…and cries.”

  “Cries? Lizards? Slaves?” Ord responded, his mind reeling.

  “Well, not really cries,” the Lynx said, “more like howls—but, point is, it’s all stuff I don’t want to hang out a signboard about.”

  “Why not?” Ord asked suspiciously, “seems like slaves and howls might be worth looking into.”

  “Good for you!” the Lynx laughed. “You’re right sharp—understanding right away why I don’t want to call attention. And, anyways, you’re in it now. You’ll be looking into it pretty deep in a few minutes.”

  “What do you mean?” Angelana asked.

  The Lynx pointed to Dainty’s Shant heading out to sea. “What I mean is—seems to me, there’s no turning back for any of you, and no place forward to go except with me. I can show you a way out of the mess you’ve got yourselves into.” The Lynx paused to let his words sink in. “Oh, yes, I know you’re all in a mess. No beast comes to the Spook’nings except for being in a mess they can’t get out of. So, if I’m wrong, speak up quickly, please. Otherwise, let’s get moving.”

  The other beasts looked toward Ord, watching how he would react. Ord took a few moments to consider the situation. Every plan he had made was in shambles. Where there was one Battle Cruiser, there would soon be others. With the sea closed off, it would be weeks of walking—across hostile lands—to reach Port Newolf. Could the Lynx help? Eyeing the curious beast, he felt certain the Lynx was ancient. Out of the tangled gray hair and beard peered two eyes that seemed nearly translucent, so faded was their color. A wisdom of age seemed apparent in them. Beyond that, Ord saw no evidence of evil in the gentle, toothy half-grin that was the normal resting position of the Lynx’s mouth. “All right, Lynx,” Ord said slowly, “we’ll go with you a ways and see what you’ve got. I’d feel a darn sight better, though, knowing what sort of a beast I’m going with. What’s your name? Where’s home?”

  “My friends call me Home,” the Lynx responded. “You’re trusting me, so I count you as friends—I’d be please if you call me Home. I’ve never had a place to call home—nor have the beasts I associate with—so that’s why they call me Home. I kind of take care of a whole lot of beasts. I’m their home. Beyond that, way, way, back I was a Climbing Lynx and roamed all over the Hedgelands—but that was a long time ago.”

  Looking out to sea, Home paused for a moment, as if calculating something. Then he said, “Right now, friends, I don’t need to know who you are. I’m trusting you, like you’re trusting me. That’s the way I operate—I’ll pick up the rest as we go along. Right now, we need to get those boats out of sight—like I said, no one needs to think there’s a reason to stop here.”

  Talking quickly, Home gave instructions. “Everyone follow me, except for you two,” pointing at Bost and Morgan Shorts. “You two pull the boats over to that far rock,” he said pointing. “You’ll find some large rocks there. We’ll all pitch in and fill the boats with rocks until they sink under the water. That will hide them and keep them handy for a while—in case you good beasts decide you’d rather leave me and try your hand rowing the ocean.”

  A half-hour’s work completed the job of sinking the boats. The last of the boats was sinking below the surface when S’Might exclaimed, “Look! The ship is on fire!” Turning their eyes seaward, they saw Dainty’s Shant billowing smoke. Clouds of dense, dark smoke obscured nearly the entire hull. Ord smiled. Just as he had promised, Klemés had set a smoky fire and set course directly at the Battle Stallion cruiser! Plowing toward the much larger ship, Dainty’s Shant seemed to be a smoking monster, tips of the masts or prow poking out like fangs or talons.

  “We’re not spectators here,” Home said. “The tide will be coming back up soon and we’ve got to get off the beach.”

  “Come on,” Ord said, turning aside from looking out to sea, “Klemés and the crew know what they face and are taking it on—it’s time we do the same. Show us the way, Home.”

  Walking toward the massive, rotting carcass of a ship, Home led the group around to the back of the wooden hulk. At the rear, the skeleton lay crumpled against the bottom of a cliff, partially buried in sand. Curtains of seaweed hung limply from the decaying timbers, waiting for the tide to bring life-giving water once more. Holding the shroud of seaweed open, Home motioned for the group to step inside the broken ship.

  Ord was the last to enter, indicating that Home should go before him. Casting one last glance seaward, he noticed that the breeze had pushed the smoke to the side enough to see Dainty’s Shant one last time. Still bearing down on the cruiser, Dainty’s Shant was closing fast on its adversary. The cruiser, for its part, was turning aside to get out of the way of Dainty’s onslaught. “Just as Kl
emés predicted!” Ord smiled.

  KAAA-BOOOM! A column of flame belched from the smoke-enshrouded ship and a projectile flew toward the cruiser, striking it at the stern. A pillar of water shot up and the Battle Stallion cruiser slightly shuddered.

  “YAR! YAR! YAR!” Ord cried, seeing Dainty’s Shant run out the sweeps to make her run for the open sea. “Take care of her, Captain Klemés!” he added, then turned to follow the others through the seaweed curtain.

  Although nothing remained of the wrecked ship except its skeleton, stepping through the seaweed shroud brought a heavy odor of rotting wood, moldy rope, and dead fish. Enormous chains and iron rings, rusted almost to shapelessness, dangled from smashed timbers.

  Home led the group through a narrow space between two of the rocks upon which the ship rested. The larger of the rocks completely shielded the smaller one from sight, even to those standing inside the belly of the ship, making the narrow space invisible to the casual observer. The opening was just wide enough for the group to slip through one by one. Passing through the opening, the group found itself facing what promised to be a grueling climb up the cliff. Cut into the rock here and there, crude toeholds provided some assistance for the climber. At other places, rope and wood from wrecks were fashioned into ladders.

  “Not much to see here,” Home chuckled, “which is a good thing, since we can’t stay. The tide will fill this place up soon, and we’d best be well on our way by then. So, Hitch! Hitch! Up the way, over here!” With a bit of mumbling and muttering, Home swung his pack onto his shoulder and motioned for the others to follow.

  “Now you don’t lead beasts—beasts who are friends, that is, such as yourselves—you don’t lead them into danger without putting calm in them,” Home said. “Just watch your step as we climb up this trail, and everything will be just fine—but watch your step. The rock is worn smooth and, when it’s wet, it’s slick as snot.”

  Wheezing and puffing, the group climbed for what seemed like hours. When they were about a third of the way up the cliff, a violent squall suddenly came up, pelting the climbers with rain. Then, as abruptly as it arrived, the squall passed on. “That’s one of the reasons for all the wrecks along this coast,” Ord observed, “terrible unpredictable weather.”

  At last, when the trail leveled out and became more gradual, Home called a halt. “Only a bit more,” he said. “But now, gently as she goes. Grab hold of the beast in front of you. We’re done with the steepest part of the climb, but we’ll soon be in the mist. It will be so thick we won’t be able to see very well until we get past it. Just hold on and keep moving. I’ll keep the pace slow so that you can find your footing.”

  The group moved cautiously forward. The trail crossed the face of the cliffs and then curved with the coast. The beach where they had started was long ago lost to view. As they kept moving, the walls of the cliff began to echo with a howling sound, like thousands of beasts all crying at once. The tremendous wailing was unsettling, but Home showed no signs of concern. A steadily increasing shower of mist filtered down from further up the trail as they walked. As the mist became heavier, it soon drenched their clothes. The air was so loaded with fine water particles; it seemed scarcely possible to breathe. As Home had predicted, the mist thickened until nothing was visible except the beast directly beside oneself. Clutching the garment of the beast in front of him, each beast kept going, wondering how long the ordeal would last.

  They groped through the soaking wet, until stronger light began to filter through the mist. They were approaching the end of the passage. When they did step out of the passage into the daylight, it was a most astonishing sight. The passageway led out onto a narrow ledge on the face of a vertical precipice. Tremendous sheets of water poured down a few feet in front of the ledge. They were standing behind not just one, but several waterfalls! The showers of spray and mist from the rushing torrents made it impossible to see much beyond the falling water. The howling sound was so deafening that nothing could be heard but the falls. Home motioned for the group to keep moving. Walking gingerly, the group crossed the narrow, slippery ledge. Then, following Home’s lead, they scrambled over a field of broken rocks to reach higher ground above the falls. Upon reaching dry ground, everyone collapsed for a breather.

  Looking around herself, Angelana gave a long whistle. Now that the chasm and waterfalls were fully visible, it was something like she had never seen before. Dozens of individual waterfalls shot out of cracks and crevices in the precipice wall. Spurting out under great pressure, the water created a chorus of howling and shrieking sounds.

  “Where does the water come from?” she asked.

  “Well, it all begins up in that range of mountains way off at the horizon,” Home answered. “It flows down through a river called the Lost Ways Crack. After we rest, we’ll climb on up over that ridge ahead of us. Once we get up there, you’ll see that there’s a huge lake just on the other side. That’s where the water for the falls comes from. It’s kind of like a bucket with holes in the bottom.”

  The falls plummeted into the chasm, dropping away into a gaping gash in the earth.

  “Where does it go, I wonder?” Ord said.

  “That’s the ocean at the bottom of the gorge,” Home explained. There are many sea-caves along this part of the coast,” he continued. “We came through a smaller one. This is another one, where the river drops down and exits to the sea.”

  After a few minutes of rest, Angelana stood up and gazed off at the distant mountains. “So how do you fit into all of this?” she asked.

  “I live on the far side of the lake,” he replied.

  “Well, if that’s where we’re going,” Angelana said, “let’s get moving. I’d sure like to put some more distance between us and anyone who might be following us.”

  “So you see, you don’t want people finding this place either!” Home laughed. “That’s what I was trying to tell you Bug-Brains! No one ever comes this way—so don’t be getting them started now!”

  “Come on,” Ord said, “we get the point. Let’s move.”

  “We’ll walk up over the ridge,” Home said. “There’s a couple of boats there, and we’ll paddle across the lake.”

  It was a long slow climb up to the top of the ridge. Along the way, biting flies tormented them. That, in addition to wet clothing, made for a miserable slog. Reaching the top of the ridge, with the lake laid out below them, a fast-moving squall came across the sky, soaking them again. By the time they arrived at the lake, blue sky and sunshine ruled the sky.

  Coming down the other side of the ridge was much more fun than going up. Masses of wildflowers covered the meadows, and the walking was easy. When they reached the lake, the water was beautifully clear. “It’s warm!” Angelana exclaimed, when she knelt down to touch the water.

  “Yep,” Home replied, “but not as warm as the far side of the lake. This is the cool side. When we get over to my place, you can have a good soak in some really hot water.”

  “Why is the water hot?” Ord asked.

  “The Lost Ways Crack comes down out of the mountains hotter than Ever Hot Pie,” Home said. “That whole area over at the foot of the mountains has hot water pools and geysers and springs. It all eventually flows into the lake.”

  “So, when we get to your place, what then?” Angelana said. “We are so far away from the plans we had just a few hours ago, that I’m feeling like I don’t have a clue what’s going on!”

  “Well…” Home began slowly. “I’m wondering the same thing.”

  “What do you mean?” Angelana responded.

  “Well—it’s like this—it’s not just me over at my place. There’s—well, there’s—let’s just call it a camp. A camp of about thirty beasts.”

  “Thirty beasts!” Angelana said. “Just camping there, out in the middle of nowhere?”

  “Yep, pretty much that’s it,” Home said. “Like I told you before, I kind of take care of a bunch of beasts.”

  “What kind of beasts?”
Ord asked, with uncertainty in his voice.

  “Oh, good beasts,” Home replied, “really excellent beasts all around. They just ran into a bit of a scrape with the High One’s thugs—you might say they were slaves who set themselves free without asking permission.”

  “Escaped slaves!” Ord said. “That’s why you like your privacy about this place, isn’t it?”

  “Well—that’s part of it,” Home said. “The rest of it has to do with my lizard trading.”

  “Trading lizards? For what?” Ord asked.

  “Well—I guess it’s not exactly trading,” Home replied. “You might say it’s more like bribes.”

  “Bribes?” Ord replied.

  “Well—these are really special lizards,” Home continued. “You’ve never eaten anything in your life like a slow-roasted Snick Lizard. I’m telling you—doesn’t matter what else you eat with it—that Snick Lizard is the star of the meal. Snicks only live around on the far side of the lake. And, so far, I’m about the only beast that knows how to hunt them—they’re fast and tricky to catch. Anyway, I catch them and give them to certain distinguished sea-traders who can sell them for tremendous amounts in fancy cities and the like.”

  “You mean you sell them to smugglers,” Ord said. “I’m guessing that’s the kind of distinguished traders you’re dealing with.”

  “Well—let’s not get into insulting my distinguished friends,” Home replied, pretending to be offended.

  “It’s payment for my distinguished friends taking some escaped slaves off my hands, you see,” Home said.

  “He pays smugglers to help him get escaped slaves out of here!” Angelana chuckled. “How about that, Ord?”

  “Well, I can’t exactly ask the Battle Stallions or such to help me out,” Home said with a smile. “That would rather spoil the whole business, I think.”