Something had changed, and this time they both realised it, looking at each other in alarm.
“How did we get here?” they both asked at the same time. “I don't know.” they also replied simultaneously.
Zya held up her hand to silence him. “Where were you?”
She looked past him. The scenery had changed once more, the cliffs and wind having disappeared, being replaced with lowlands and the sea beyond. She had no doubt they were further along the road, but Ju was unsettled nonetheless. “I was at a cove collecting barrels, and then on a cliff with some pirates, and then here with you.” He shuddered as he looked around. How could the scenery just change instantly? “You have been with me all of the way, haven't you?”
“Not as far as I can recall,” Zya replied, nervously eyeing the land around them. The sea was a lot calmer than she remembered it, the waves barely lapping against the shore. There was a village ahead in the distance, its rooftops visible above the nearby horizon created by low hills. The track bent around to the left, almost onto the narrow strip of beach, and the to the right around a hill. “I was on a ship, on the sea, and then in a storm, except that I was the only one concerned. You were with me, Ju, and I could not understand why you were so at ease.” She looked at him, and spoke words that scared him for some reason. “I was with a group of pirates too.” That was the last that either of them spoke, for they started to hear noises that sounded nothing less than violent. Something was smashing wood and glass with such apparent ease that it could be heard though they were yet a mile off. They rode on in mute apprehension. The cloud piled over them as they reached the village, passing as fast as the wind. The light dimmed, and the clouds brought dark shadows sweeping by as they crawled to a stop at the outermost point of the village.
“The horse senses something.”
“I know,” Zya replied in a whisper. “Something dark is in this place, something that belies the very substance of nature.”
Emanations of darkness flew out in waves that knocked them back with their ferocity.
“We have to move on,” Ju shouted above the force of the darkness.
Zya cajoled the horse with a firm shake of the reins. The stallion hesitated, and the started forward as slow as it could possibly go. They inched through the town, the noise becoming deafening as they did so. All of a sudden, the source was revealed in horrific splendour. A group of what could only be called monsters was attacking a large building in the centre of the village. The creatures had all manner of sharp protuberances coming out at every direction, but if the spikes, for spikes they surely were, inhibited their movement, it was not obvious. In fact the creatures seemed all the more comfortable leaning on these spikes. They were huge, twice the size of the horse and cart combined, and they stood on hind legs, smashing at the walls and windows with their forelegs. If the creatures had any mouths, they were hidden under the mop of fur that covered their faces, all except for the glowing red eyes that oozed malice. The horse was moving slowly enough behind the smaller houses that they got a good enough look at the creatures to see that they almost acted like a family group. Two of them were much larger, and one was dominant, growling and warding the others off. It was as if part of the building was a territory, and sole property of each creature. Baffled by this, they glanced at each other, and prayed the horse would take them away from this scene of madness. Of course it was naturally that at this point the horse decided to stop, fear making it tremble to a halt.
“Come on,” Zya urged, trying to shake the reins without making any noise. The very moment the horse halted, one of the creatures looked around, seeking them out. Finding them, the creature barked a warning to its family, a bubbling rumble from deep within its stomach. The noise was terrifying, and echoed off of all of the buildings within earshot, magnifying the sound. They realised that that was most of the noise that they had been hearing during their approach to the village. As the creature barked the others dropped to the ground. She had a leap of intuition. “They seem to be listening with their feet rather than with any sensory organs on their head.”
“How do you know?”
“I feel sick from the vibrations coming up through the ground. They are magnified. I think that has something to do with it. They are talking through the ground.”
The monsters started to edge away from the building they had been molesting, leaving it open for view. It was a guild house, seen by the crest above the door, the only part of it still intact and undamaged. Which guild it belonged to was a mystery, as the crest was in a state of flux, constantly blurred. One of the creatures began to lope towards them, the smaller of the adults. Ju shook the reins violently, trying not to look at the approaching creature, almost as big as the houses around which it stepped. The horse was unresponsive at first, resigned to the ending that fate had decided for it, but then it responded with a single step. This had the effect of halting the creature, less than two houses distance away from them. The creature seemed to sniff at the air, and cock its head to one side. Then the horse took another step, and another, and the creature rumbled a deafening call to the group. As if this was the key to unlock the hesitant behaviour of the horse, now the poor creature began to pull at the wagon in a nervous attempt to get out of the village.
Strangely enough, this resulted in the monster nearest them, a collection of spikes and claws all over its body as revealed to them by its proximity, turning and rejoining it's group and attacking the guild house with renewed vigour. She shook her head slightly, as if doubting to believe that any of this was real, and looked back at him. He was biting his upper lip with his lower teeth, struggling to say nothing, eyes wide with fright and relief.
“Don't worry Ju.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“It seems that as long as we keep moving, we are protected from these creatures.”
“Weird.”
“Well consider where we are, Ju. We are plainly not where we should be.”
They continued through the village on a side track, avoiding the monsters that had become considerably quieter, and yet were still clearly in evidence.
“The houses were all empty,” Ju observed.
“I don't really think that's much of a surprise, do you?”
Doors were open, and belongings were scattered on the ground. They came to a place where the horse stopped once more, and this time no amount of cajoling could move it. The horse appeared to have reached its destination, and would move for nothing.
“Come on!” Ju shook the reins. The horse remained still.
“I don't think he is going anywhere, Ju.”
“Well we should hide.”
Zya looked back towards the centre of the village. “No I don't think we are going to be followed. Nothing is forthcoming. They would be on top of us by now and there is neither noise or vibration.”
Climbing down from the cart, they entered the nearest building which was revealed to be a store. It had shelves filled with rusted tankards, and barrels full of seemingly random bits of metal. Everything was covered in spider webs, and many of the scuttling creatures could be seen in the windows, spinning their traps thicker and thicker in the hope of catching a meal. This looked the sort of shop that if they had still intended to sell their cargo, they would have found ideal.
“This place has been deserted for seasons.”
“So it would seem. Ju, I have a feeling about this place. Don't touch anything. Be extremely careful.”
They explored the shop, afraid to touch anything lest it be disturbed. There was a serenity about the whole shop, as if they would reduce the dusty perfection of the place with their touch. Implements and gadgets adorned the walls, obviously used in all manner of household chores. They made an unconscious decision at exactly the same time. This room was not meant to be touched, though they did not know why. There was a feeling, well more the potential for a feeling of wrong should they handle anything, so with a glance at each other, they left it to its dusty infinity
. Returning to the sky that moved with rapid bursts of cloud, as if time was speeding ahead of them, they found a small girl stood next to the cart, stroking the horse's head. She was about eight or nine seasons old, with long dark hair, and a serious demeanour. She wore a brown homespun dress, not unlike the type favoured by many of the travellers, and she was barefoot, though she seemed unconcerned about the muddy track. As they approached her, she smiled. “He's my dad,” she said softly, indicating a man wrapped in rags that until now had been hidden behind the horse. The old man, for wrinkled and gnarled he was, with his hands curling inwards and his arms clutched to his chest, could not have been the girl's father, so maybe it was a metaphor.
They looked at each other, not more than a single stolen glance. This place had no people. Why were there suddenly two more here? “What is your name?” she asked of the girl.
“He is two,” the girl replied, indicating her father and showing no recognisable sign of having even heard the question. The girl looked calmly up at her. “He is two,” she repeated insistently. “He needs to be one.”
She thought back to her childhood, recalling memories that seemed so distant and difficult to obtain in this place. The girl in front of her reminded her of someone familiar, and she thought about the two girls that she shared her childhood with, though they were younger than her. They were fairer of hair and face than this girl. The thought struck her, and she cursed herself a fool for not having thought of it before. The girl reminded her of herself as a child. The face showed the simple signs that would develop into the young woman that she had become. The tilt of the eyes, with their intelligence and stubborn streak firmly entrenched behind them. The small pout of the lips, and the lustrous black hair grown so long already. All were reminiscent of the child she had once been. She knelt down to the height of the little girl. “Is he injured?”
This seemed to bring a discomfort to the child. The little girl squirmed, and shifted, trying to avoid eye contact. “He needs to be one,” she said firmly, as if this were the answer to all of the questions pointed her way. “You can make him one. He needs to be one.” With this, the child looked up, and then across at her companion. She hissed in recognition. “He should not be here. This is unjust, and not the way of things!” The childish voice had changed, and sounded much older, and wiser.”
For his part, her companion looked around at her in complete amazement. “I didn't want to be here in the first place, I'd have you know.” He retorted, upset by the sudden change of character, and drawn into a defensive stance.
The child hissed all the louder. “This is how it never should have been! This is a blasphemy, and should never happen again! Wrong, you are. Wrong!” Then a change of character came over the girl, as the child within her reasserted itself. “Are you here to help my father? He needs your help.” She looked imploringly at them both, and the back to the old man, wretched and twisted in his own private agony that nobody could share. “He needs both your help.” Leaving them stunned, and unsure what to say as a reply, the girl took the old man by one of his twisted hands, and led him into the doorway of the shop. “The beach calls you, you should respond,” the child said to them as the door closed on whispered hinges.
“The beach calls us?” Ju echoed, perplexed.
She looked out towards the sea. A strip of yellow was visible as the hills closed in on the coast. “There is a beach over there, if only a sliver of one. Let's go have a look.” They walked warily across to the sand, a distance that was perhaps a mile, though it seemed less. When they reached the edge of the sand, they looked back, and saw the village in the extreme distance, almost an impression on the horizon. They had walked much further than they thought. Turning back to the sea, they looked out on the waves to find that it had calmed to almost mirror sheen. If there had been any breeze before, it had disappeared now. Where the beach ended, the hills began, and there was a jumbled mess of wood everywhere. Crates and pallets stacked up in piles on the low slopes, and on them were growing many plants. If they realised that such a mess could have a purpose, they had no idea as to what that purpose was. All manner of plants grew out of pots, pans, helmets; anything in fact that could be used as a container had a plant in it. Fruit trees, vegetables in stunted terracotta vases. Flowers grew in patches, their blooms looking so out of place in such a surreal situation. But everything was on top of wooden pallets, as if each person had been allotted a space. The manic scene extended as far as the eye could see, all across the cove. The sand had not been touched by anything other than the sea, and this line of demarcation stood to separate the water from the line of plants that appeared to form a defensive wall against the water.
“This is strange,” she said, as they walked the edge of the beach, looking at the plants, and the copious amounts of wrecked wood beneath.
“Strange? That is this season's understatement. This is downright weird, and it is not right. What did the girl mean that the beach calls us?” They stood and listened for a moment, expecting to hear the sound of the sea, or the wind. They heard nothing. “I don't like this.” He said, looking her in the eye with the defiance of his youth. “I want to leave here.”
She nodded her head in agreement, though he did not need that indication to start walking back. “Wait for me,” she called, though she overtook him with merely a step. Their journey back to the village took them in many directions, and at different speeds. They could not keep together no matter what they tried. It was as if some entity was seeking to separate them by an act of force. However it could not complete the job, and they arrived, severely shaken and very confused back at the wagon, where the horse regarded them with the lack of interest that a draft horse was so apt to show. As one they turned and looked back towards the distant beach, which now did not seem nearly as far away as it once had. They looked at each other, stunned to muteness by the strange events happening to them. She looked down at him, mouth slightly open, and her head shaking as if she could not believe that she had been flung over the nearby countryside like some lost rag doll. Her hands shook as she raised them to lean herself on the cart, which was still full of the salvaged barrels and crates. She paid them no attention as she looked towards the shop they had entered before. There was a change. The spiders still filled the glass like a collection of angry old widows in their shawls, and the ledges outside looked ready to drop off from rot. “There is a difference, a character almost, or a consciousness.” A feeling she had sensed in places before assailed her senses. It was a feeling both very recent, and brought back to her from a place long since visited. She did not know what it meant, but intended to find out.
The Path of Dreams (The Tome of Law Book 2) Page 16