The Overending

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The Overending Page 9

by Rick Johnson


  “So that’s what you were doing on the beach when we met you?” Bost asked.

  “Yes,” Home responded. “One night per month, I meet a certain distinguished friend of mine on the beach, always in the middle of the night. I give her some fresh live Snicks. She takes a couple of my comrades who are ready to leave my place.

  Angelana’s eyes were ablaze as she nearly shouted, “YAR! That’s brilliant! That’s the answer! That’s why we’re coming to your camp. I don’t know about the rest of my family and friends, but I’ll give the rest of my life to working with you. It would make me so happy to break the back of the High One’s slaving system.”

  “Whoa, there, my good beast,” Home replied. “I’m only getting a handful of freed slaves out of here per month. That is not exactly breaking the back of the system.”

  “No, I understand,” Angelana responded. “But, you give me a few years, and we’ll figure out a way to take what you’ve already done and tear the guts out of the slaving!”

  The other beasts simply looked at her, saying nothing. Had she lost her mind?

  “Look, we’re smart beasts,” she continued. “There’s more smart beasts over at Home’s camp. We can do this. We can break the system.”

  Angelana’s Victory

  “So, that’s the way Grandmother Angelana told the story to me,” Angelana concluded. “There’s more to the story—exploring the Lost Ways Crack and finding the best routes from Tilk Duraow to the sea, founding SnowFire and making it her base, establishing SLOPS. Grandmother Angelana and Home became allies, and SLOPS, as it now functions, is their creation.” She paused, watching Emil and PorNart’s reaction to the story she had just told.

  Then she continued. “Like I said, there’s a lot more, but you now know the basic story of how SnowFire came to be.”

  “Angelana…” Emil began, “that was Great-Grandfather Klemés’ ship!”

  “Yes, I suspected that. When Ord was a common young sea-beast on his father’s ship, Klemés was the carpenter. From then on, they were inseparable friends. After Ord became captain of Dainty’s Shant some years later, Klemés was, in effect, Captain Ord’s closest advisor. Ord was a good and just captain, and Klemés always remained one of the sea-beasts best-loved by his fellows. For many years, they had a great life together… Then came Klemés Mutiny.”

  “Klemés Mutiny?” Emil asked. “I’m proud they called it that! Klemés was brave and decent, and deserves some credit.”

  “Yes, he does,” Angelana replied fiercely. “Sometimes goodness and decency requires us to apply laws that don’t get enough attention! And that brings us all here today.”

  “When they discovered what had happened, Club Wolves went to Angelana’s and burned her house to the ground. Of course, she wasn’t there, and she never returned to Norder Bay. They also burned Klemés house and pulled all his friends in for questioning.”

  “And went after the rest of his family too,” Emil said.

  “What makes you say that?” Angelana asked.

  “When I and my sister, Helga, were young beasts, Skull Buzzards came to our house to arrest our parents. They had done nothing wrong, so did not know they were in trouble or why the Skull Buzzards had come. We heard shouts from our neighbors warning us and barely escaped. Father and I went one direction and Mother and Helga went another to try to maximize the chance that some of us might get away. As it turned out, Father and I escaped, but Helga and Mother didn’t. Helga eventually got back home, but I never saw my mother again after that. From what you say, I’m sure that visit from the Skull Buzzards was connected with Klemés’ Mutiny.”

  “You’re probably right,” S’Might replied. “Anyone they could find who was related to Klemés and Ord was arrested and sent to Tilk Duraow.”

  “You said before the Klemés was a prisoner at Tilk Duraow. But in the story you told, it sounds like he escaped with Dainty’s Shant and the crew?” Emil asked.

  “No one really knows what happened to him,” Angelana replied. “Like I told you, the last Ord and the others saw of him, it appeared that Klemés’ plan had worked and Dainty’s Shant had slipped past the Battle Stallion cruiser. But no one really knows what happened after that. Neither Klemés nor Dainty’s Shant were ever seen or heard from again.” She paused and a tired look passed briefly across her face. “But, I know Klemés is at Tilk Duraow. I feel it in my bones. You run SLOPS for a long time and you just get this sense of things about that place. I don’t know what’s what about Klemés, but I do know what I feel. I feel in my bones that, somehow, he was captured.” She looked at Emil. “Look—they call it Klemés’ Mutiny, not Ord’s Mutiny. Why is that? I think it’s because they caught him, and he took responsibility. He probably gave them some story about leading a mutiny against Captain Ord…”

  “If you’re so sure where he is, and you’re so good at SLOPS,” Emil asked grimly, “why don’t you get him out?”

  “There are so many slaves at Tilk Duraow and elsewhere,” Angelana replied. “We get as many as we can to freedom, but we don’t go after any particular one. It’s more important to wreck the system and make it leak slaves all over.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that my great-grandfather doesn’t count,” Emil remarked darkly.

  “No, he counts very much,” the young Wolf replied. “He counts just as much as every other beast we risk our lives to rescue. We’d rescue him if we could. But slaves have to be moving for us to get at them. We can’t just go up to Tilk Duraow and politely ask to be let inside. It’s a fortress up there. The Granite Hulks are just what they sound like—not easy to get into, or out of.”

  “Well,” replied Emil grimly. “If Klemés is in Tilk Duraow, we’re going to break the system and get him out! I don’t do well with the either-or you gave me.”

  “You’re one after Grandmother Angelana’s own heart, Emil.”

  Book Three

  Red Wind in the Canyon

  Helga Does It Again

  The cedar oil lamps had long since guttered out when Helga finally arose from where she had been sitting for several hours. Her parents had long ago returned to Elbin and Sareth’s house and turned in for the night. When the homecoming celebration ended, something had pulled on Helga’s heart, keeping her rooted in the place where she had spent the evening telling of her adventures. Perhaps it was just the good feeling of being back in the Rounds, at last able to introduce her parents to old friends. Perhaps it was the almost dizzying sense of release she felt now that her recent savage experiences were over. Whatever the reason, Helga remained behind, sitting under the magnificent night sky, a universe of stars seeming close enough to touch. Most of the Roundie houses were now dark, their inhabitants asleep.

  Swish-luckt…swish-luckt…swish-luckt…the familiar sound instantly jarred Helga from her reverie. Only one beast she knew wore chain mail boots.

  “Bad Bone!” Helga whispered. “Is that you?”

  “Aye, Helga, it is as you think,” her old friend laughed, stepping out of the shadows. An exceptionally large and powerfully-built Climbing Lynx, Bad Bone wore fingerless gloves and boots of finely made chain mail. He had a reputation as the greatest climber in all of the Hedgelands. Once a trusted servant of the High One, Bad Bone’s friendship with the Wood Cows had led to a falling out with the Hedgelands ruler.

  “So sorry that I missed the party. I’ve been travelling fast for the past three days to get here, but fast across rugged mountains wasn’t fast enough.”

  “What are you doing here?” Helga demanded. “I thought your old buddy the High One had Skull Buzzards after your hide.”

  “Ah, yes, very much my pleasure to lose track of those unpleasant fellows!” Bad Bone smiled. “I’ve joined the Borf and have a good home with them now. That’s actually what brings me here to find you.”

  “What do you mean?” Helga asked.

  “You know the Borf run raids on the High One’s trallé caravans,” Bad Bone continued. “On a recent raid, things went
badly. The caravan had many more guards than usual and the usual Borf attack plan did not work. The Borf had to drop the attack and retreat. In the confusion, I got cut off and almost captured. Looking frantically for a place to hide, I slipped into one of the cargo wagons. Because guards ride on the wagon front and back, I was stuck in there when the caravan started moving again. I was a bit worried about my future when that happened, but it turned out to be a very good thing.”

  “A good thing?” Helga said, surprised. “I would think you were lucky just to get out alive!”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Bad Bone continued. “But listening to the guards talk, I learned something that’ll interest you very much—I know where your brother is.”

  “What!” Helga said excitedly. “You know where Emil is?”

  “Yes,” Bad Bone replied, “I heard the guards talking about how they’re having lots of trouble up at Tilk Duraow. They keep losing more and more slaves. Apparently, there is a very well organized operation that’s draining the Tilk Duraow workforce.” He stopped and looked at Helga for a long moment before continuing. “Here’s the part about Emil. The situation has gotten so bad that the High One decided to send some of his crack Sparrow Snoops to investigate. According to the guards, they learned that the main route for escaping slaves was down through the Grand Deep and Lost Ways Crack to the sea. The Sparrow Snoops actually saw a Wood Cow in a boat with escaped slaves running down the Lost Ways Crack. That just has to be Emil. Who else could it be?”

  Helga was stunned. Her brother running escaped slaves to the sea? It was both fabulous and terrifying to contemplate. “What else did you hear?” she asked.

  “The guards didn’t say much more—probably because they don’t know much more,” Bad Bone replied. “But, I did hear them say that the High One is planning to send Skull Buzzards into the Grand Deep and Lost Ways Crack to crush the anti-slaving operation.”

  “Crush it!” Helga exclaimed. “When? How? We’ve got to do something!”

  “They didn’t say when or how,” Bad Bone replied, “but you can bet it will be soon.”

  “We’ve got to warn Emil and whoever he’s working with,” Helga declared.

  “Yes, first thing in the morning we’ll tell your parents what’s up and then start out,” Bad Bone replied.

  “We can’t do that, Bad Bone,” Helga replied. “I know what they’ll say. They’ll be vexed with me if I talk about going off with you to take on the High One and his thugs. They’ll want me to stay here, while the grownups talk about what should be done and how best to do it. By the time they have a plan and get moving, it might be too late for Emil.” Helga gave Bad Bone a determined look. He returned it.

  “All right, then, it’s settled,” Helga said, “I think you and I alone have a better chance of slipping into the area where Emil is, than if a whole troop of beasts went there. We’ve got to do it.”

  “You say your parents would be vexed if you asked them about this—just wait until they find out you’re going to do it on your own!” Bad Bone smiled.

  “They may be vexed, but they won’t be surprised,” Helga laughed. “I’ve done it before.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “Last time I left like this, it was to go off and try to help some sea-beasts in trouble. This time, I’m not going to try and help anyone. This time, I’m in it for myself—all the way. If Emil is in this up to his neck, as it seems he is, then I’m in it up to my eyes!”

  In the morning, Helga’s parents, Breister and Helbara, found that Helga had departed in the night.

  I’m awfully sorry to leave without saying Goodbye, but I’m determined that this is the best way to do what needs to be done. All of the promptings in my spirit leave me no time to dally and delay. I received information last night about Emil, which cannot await action even an instant. I cannot say more because the only hope for him is if as few as possible get involved. This task may be a thousand times too big for me to handle, but I can try. I know I can do this, and, by the Ancients, I will try. With good fortune, I will be back with you soon. Please stay at the Rounds until you hear from me—if possible, I’ll bring Emil back with me.

  Affectionately,

  Helga

  “What a daughter we have!” Breister exclaimed.

  “Yes, we’ve been blessed by the Ancients with a beautiful test!” Helbara smiled.

  “Well, she’s every bit just like her mother,” Breister said, grinning at his wife. “Only even more determined, if that’s possible.”

  “I call determination a virtue,” Helbara replied, “and happiness, too. Helga has plenty of both and, as long as she has both in good supply, she can succeed at anything she sets out to do.”

  “Well, she certainly doesn’t take rest seriously,” Breister said, “nor worry, either.”

  Home and Bad Bone

  Bad Bone and Helga walked for four days with little to eat and drink, and almost no sleep, pushing themselves to the limit. Their only food was dried Ruckpack Honey and Salamander Jerky, with whatever wild Raspberries they found here and there. Allowing themselves only brief stops, they walked all night, stopping just before dawn. Falling to the ground in an open area, they would sleep until the rising sun fell on their eyes with enough intensity to wake them. It was a sure way to keep from sleeping too long. On the third day of their journey, during such a sleep period, they awakened almost before they were asleep.

  “What was that?” Bad Bone whispered, sitting up, instantly alert.

  “Voices,” Helga replied, “coming up the ravine over there.” A deep ravine cutting downward just ahead of them was faintly visible in the pre-dawn light.

  Not knowing if friend or foe might be coming, they quickly scrambled behind some rocks to see what would happen. They waited some minutes, but no one came up the ravine. The voices, however, got louder as time went on. Whoever it was must be at the bottom of the ravine. Finally, they decided to investigate.

  “Sounds like a party,” Bad Bone whispered as they descended the ravine. The sounds were more happy than sinister. Even so, Bad Bone and Helga remained out of sight as they crept closer for a look.

  Drawing up just a few feet from where the voices were, Helga parted some bushes and peered through. Dressed in odd clothing—or, in some cases, only a little clothing—about thirty beasts were sitting, or lounging, in a steaming pool of water! Rocks and stones, placed for the comfort of the bathers, served to mark the pool off from the rest of a large lake that stretched across the landscape. Many of the bathers wore shorts, others were dressed in handsome snug-fitting snakeskin suits that covered their entire body, including their feet, all the way up to the neck. Most also shaded their heads with handsome broad-brimmed hats. Along the edge of the lake, there was a cluster of sturdy-looking huts.

  “Take a look at that,” Helga chuckled. “It’s a hot spring, and those beasts sure are enjoying it.”

  “Maybe we should join them,” Bad Bone suggested. “Looks inviting, and we might learn something.”

  “I’m in,” Helga replied, stepping out from the bushes. Bad Bone followed, and soon they were standing before the group of beasts lounging in the water.

  One face immediately caught Bad Bone’s attention as they approached. An ancient Lynx, his face nearly completely buried under a monstrous tangle of gray hair and beard, stood out from the crowd. Seeing Bad Bone and Helga coming toward him, the gnarled old Lynx rose from the water and stepped forward.

  “Hey, Mon!” he said, coming forward and slapping them both on the back in welcome. “Come, come, come right on in. Join us in our morning soak-potting! It’s a right nice way to start any day.” Pointing to a nearby hut, the Lynx continued, “In that hut you’ll find some hot-suits that will probably fit you. The water is so hot, I always recommend a hot-suit to get started.” He laughed at their hesitation. “Come, come! The water is fine, and you’ll feel like a brand new beast after a few minutes of soak-potting!”

  Laughing and hollering, the crowd of beasts in the pool hooted fo
r Bad Bone and Helga to hurry up. Heading off to the hut, they found suitable hot-suits and returned to the lake. The warm water was amazing after four days of hard marching.

  “Now what brings you fine young beasts all the way up here?” the Lynx asked. “Oh, sorry, forgot to introduce myself. My friends call me Home—don’t recall if I ever had another name or not—so just call me Home.”

  After introducing themselves, Bad Bone said, “We’re looking for a lost friend.”

  “A lost friend, you say,” Home replied, “well, you’ve come to the right place—no other beasts here than friends lost from somewhere.”

  “Everyone here is lost?” Helga asked. “Lost from where?”

  “Now that depends on who’s asking, and for what purpose,” Home replied, pulling a long, double-edge knife from a concealed pocket in his trousers. Several other beasts also pulled out concealed weapons. “Now, when I told you my name was ‘Home’ I said that was what my friends call me. I was assuming then, and I’m assuming now, that you’re friends. So, don’t get all alarmed about these blades and stuff. You just can’t be too careful these days, you know.”

  Having made his point, Home nodded to the other beasts to put away their weapons. He smiled. “There now, you see that us lost beasts are a bit particular about who takes an interest in where we’re lost from. You’re fine looking beasts and don’t raise up my worry-blisters—so I’ll tell you straight out. These here beasts are slaves escaped from Tilk Duraow!”

  “Escaped from the Granite Hulks?” Bad Bone exclaimed. “I thought no one ever got out of Tilk Duraow except by Death’s Door.”

  “That’s mostly right,” Home replied. “Most beasts sent to Tilk Duraow die there—either falling, or crushed, or worked to death cutting rock on the Hulks. But there is a way to escape, and I found it.”

 

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