by Mark Boutros
Peezant opened his beak. ‘Pay.’
‘I’ll have nothing left,’ he whispered.
‘But I need a new accessory to go with my anklet.’ Peezant posed. ‘If you’re struggling for funds I’ll accept an eye.’
Karl huffed and grabbed a handful of gold. ‘Not like I’ll need this where I’m going anyway. They probably don’t have stupid rules like having to use gold to buy nonsense.’ Karl rammed gold into Peezant’s mouth. ‘Talk.’
Peezant let the tension hang in the air and Karl wanted to strangle him.
‘Two B is next to Two A, naturally. Idiot.’ And with the most useless piece of information ever revealed, Peezant left Karl both angry and poor.
Footsteps approached. Karl looked at the nearest cell, Two J. He fumbled with the keys; his hands shook. ‘Damn pigeon!’ He tried to read the faded labels that Arazod had nibbled. He found the key, unlocked the dark cell and ran in. He lay against the wall and pulled his hood over his head. Two Fools walked past.
Karl exhaled. Time to go.
Chains jangled. ‘Hello, Karl.’ Proster stepped out of the dark corner.
13
Sabrinia watched Arazod eat his fourth bowl of tortured souls. He couldn’t fit the spoon in his beak and the liquid ran down the sides of it and splatted against his feathers.
She’d have to watch him eat every day. Every day until she died, or until he killed her.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to try some?’ He stretched out the spoon.
‘No, thank you,’ she said for the tenth time.
A Fool with its back to them raised its sword. ‘Go away,’ it said.
A bald woman peered over the short wall of Fools. ‘I have something you want, Supreme Man-Hawk.’
Arazod lifted his head from his bowl. ‘Let her in.’
The Fools parted and she swayed towards the table. She’d obviously taken advantage of their hospitality.
‘But if you don’t…’ He wheezed. ‘Have something good. I’ll introduce you to my axe.’
She smiled and placed the parchment offering a reward for Karl’s head on the table.
Sabrinia’s eyes widened.
‘You can use words, can’t you?’ Arazod said.
‘I saw him at the entrance. He was by my cart.’
‘And where is he now?’ Arazod ran his talons against the table leg.
The woman looked down. ‘Well…’
Arazod nodded to the Fools. They grabbed her.
‘No! He’s here somewhere. Let me go!’ She struggled but it was hopeless.
Arazod reached for his axe.
She pointed to the far wall of the courtyard. ‘Her! He was with her!’
She pointed at Questions who sat under the statue of Marjon, the third king of Flowforn. Questions wrote in her book, unaware of anything.
Arazod approached and Sabrinia followed, hoping to help her friend.
‘Questions, where have you been recently? I haven’t seen you,’ Arazod asked.
She looked up at him.
‘Should I have been in the castle?’ Not a lie, and not the truth, just a question, completely unhelpful to Arazod. Questions put her book away and stood.
Sabrinia offered her a reassuring smile.
‘Have you seen Karl?’ Arazod asked.
‘Have I?’
‘Yes, have you?’
‘Have I?’
Arazod’s beak twitched. ‘Yes, have you?’
‘Have I?’
He didn’t seem to understand that she was saying yes, thankfully.
’Why can’t you give a normal answer?’ he yelled.
Questions’ eyes welled up. ‘Do I wish I could?’
Arazod puffed his chest out. ‘Questions, we’re going to play a game.’ He lost control of his breath, as usual. ‘I’m going to give you an answer, and you give me the question that gets that answer.’
Questions glanced around, seemingly as confused as everyone else.
‘My quarters,’ he said.
‘Have we started?’
‘What?’
‘Is that your first answer? Or are you about to tell me about your quarters?’
‘We’ve started!’
‘And do I do the questions?’
‘Yes! Answer the question.’
‘Do I answer the question?’
‘Question the answer! You know what I mean. My quarters...’
Questions bit her lip as though working it out in her head. ‘Am I being slow?’
‘Yes!’ Arazod’s face reddened. ‘My quarters, is the answer!’
Questions smiled and clicked. ‘Where does his highness hide his scroll of Beaked Babes?’
Arazod’s feathers flapped. He leaned in and whispered, ‘Any more lies like that and I’ll have you fed to the horned wolves.’ Arazod straightened himself. ‘Okay, how about, the gardens?’
She nodded. ‘Where does his highness go to weep when nobody compliments his newly preened feathers?’
Arazod grabbed Questions’ face and dug a claw into her cheek. ‘No. More. Lies.’ Tears formed in Questions’ eyes.
Sabrinia pulled her away and rubbed her shoulders. Questions smiled at her.
Arazod took a deep breath. ‘Questions…’
‘Who am I?’ Questions scratched her palm.
‘I haven’t finished!’ Arazod said. ‘Karl.’
‘Who is not very clever?’ she said.
‘Karl!’
‘Who is weaker than a leaf in the wind?’
‘Karl!’
‘Who doesn’t wash his hands after using the toilet bucket?’
Arazod's neck feathers fluttered. ‘Okay… how about… Karl does?’
‘Who believes that trees come from Cyclops eggs?’
This went on for some time…
After saying, ‘Karl is,’ ‘Karl does,’ ‘Karl wishes,’ ‘Karl likes,’ and every other possible combination, Arazod tired, finally.
‘KARL IS!’ he said for what must have been the seventy-fourth time.
Questions' eyes welled up. ‘Who is looking around the dungeon?’ Her face turned white and she looked at Sabrinia apologetically. It wasn't her fault her people couldn't lie.
‘Finally!’ Arazod took a huge breath. He gestured to the bald woman. ‘Well done. Now go and see Lord Ragnus for your reward.’ He smiled. ‘Fools. With me to the dungeon.’
Sabrinia hoped Karl would be okay.
14
Proster squeezed Karl’s neck. ‘Give me the keys.’
Karl tried to speak but his windpipe was squashed against all the other things in his throat. He tried to pull Proster’s hands off him but was too weak. His face puffed up and he reached for the dungeon keys in his cloak.
Proster put a hand out, but Karl threw the keys into the corner of the cell, further than Proster’s chains would allow him.
Proster released Karl and glared at him.
Karl struggled to speak until the air returned to him. ‘There’s… your freedom.’
Proster reached for the keys. He tried to rip himself from the chains but couldn’t. His wrists bled and veins bulged out of places Karl didn’t know people had veins. ‘Get me them,’ Proster commanded.
‘I’ll…’ Karl crawled towards them. ‘… Free you if you leave me alone.’
Proster took a couple of breaths then nodded.
Karl didn’t trust him. But he couldn’t risk Proster shouting and getting him caught. He picked up the keys.
‘Why are you even in here?’ He stepped towards Proster, raising the keys as a sign of peace.
‘That feathered idiot wanted me to build him a statue, and I made the beak a bit too big.’
Karl shook his head. ‘Not the most forgiving ruler, is he?’ He unlocked the chains and stepped back, certain Proster would batter him.
Proster looked at him as though he was considering it, but his face softened. ‘Let’s go.’
Karl nodded. He looked up and down the corridor and unlocked the
cell. ‘I’m going that way.’ He pointed deeper into the dungeons.
Proster nodded. ‘Do whatever you want.’ He extended his hand.
Karl shook it, worried Proster would rip his arm off.
‘This doesn’t make things okay.’ Proster walked away.
Karl finally found Two B at the end of a corridor. He searched the keys and when he found the right one, his body felt lighter. Freedom. The key clicked in the lock and he pushed the door open.
There was a cupboard, a painting of a two-headed woman surfing on a spiked ant while blowing a horn, and some wooden crates. Karl wondered where the portal might be. He lifted the crates and looked behind the painting. Where is it? Come on! What does a portal even look like?
‘Search every room and cell!’ Arazod voice boomed.
Karl closed the door, but it was only lockable from the outside. He had to be quick. He looked behind the cupboard.
Nothing.
The corner of the room had faded stonework. It must be there. He scratched at the mortar. He was sure he could see something. He searched the room for an object he could bash the stones with.
The door to the cell swung open and claws grabbed the back of Karl’s head. ‘I’ve been looking for you,’ Arazod said.
Karl’s skull stung. He glanced at the corner once more. Was that a shimmering light?
He shook free and turned but Arazod’s Soul Bleeder pressed to his neck. Karl smelled what he thought was the blood of old victims on the blade.
‘I could cut through your bones right now,’ Arazod said. ‘But a straightforward execution is too good for you. I know the perfect…’ He gasped.
‘Way to lose weight?’ If he was dead he was dead.
‘Punishment!’ Arazod replied.
15
Karl stared at the chipped, wooden wheels of his cage as they rolled through the light blue sand. He couldn’t believe this desert was part of Hastovia. While the forests swelled with dying leaves and trees, this place glowed under the orange sunrise and sand stretched as far as he could see through his sweat-drenched eyes.
The Behemoth Fool pulling Karl’s cage, and Arazod, in a carriage pulled by another Behemoth Fool, discussed the reasons the sand was blue. One reason was that when people die, their souls turn to a deathly blue dust and settle here among other souls. Another was that the monstrous Ice Dragon was buried in the Dead Lands and its spirit forever glows a piercing blue, shining up through its sandy grave. A further theory was that it was just blue and people shouldn’t think about it too much.
Arazod guzzled water and let it spill over his feathers. Karl longed for a drop to cool his body.
Questions slept peacefully. How could she do that? She seemed to be able to sleep through anything, even Arazod’s constant wheezing.
Karl pictured Cell Two B. The shimmering brickwork. The way home… He was sure.
He picked at the rope that bound his wrists and ankles but he achieved nothing. He tried to shake free to release the cloak they cruelly left on him, the fabric now heavy with sweat, making it a boiling blanket.
Both Behemoth Fools wore two-foot high wooden blocks on their feet to protect them from the scorching sand.
Arazod played with the dungeon keys, now hanging on a chain around his neck. He bit the head off a small hairy creature and chomped it down, then threw the rest of the body onto the sand. It burned the hairy carcass to the bone. Arazod grinned at Karl.
Four sunsets like this. Arazod staring and grinning.
‘Why do you keep smiling like that? It’s creepy,’ Karl asked through dry lips.
‘I can’t help it. I’m very excited about you dying,’ Arazod said.
‘Why don’t you just slice me up with your Soul Bleeder? This seems like a lot of effort.’
‘I considered it.’ He coughed. ‘But I think you deserve eternal suffering, and Lord Ragnus told me this place is good for it.’ His wheezing became more violent and his smile disappeared behind panic.
‘That’s what you get for being mean,’ Karl said, unsure of what awaited him and Questions, but he wished his brain would stop guessing. He imagined they would be tied to planks on pillars an inch above the sand so the grains would burn them slowly to really stretch the suffering. He tried to think of happier things, like Sabrinia’s face, or his imaginary parents, but sadness prevailed.
‘Stop!’ Arazod wheezed. ‘Stop!’
Both Behemoth Fools stopped.
‘Have you realised you actually quite like me?’ Karl said.
‘This air…’ Arazod gasped. ‘Can’t breathe! Back. We have to…’ he told the Behemoth Fool pulling the carriage. He pointed to the one pulling Karl’s cage. ‘But you keep going.’
Karl noticed the heat thicken the further they progressed. It was like a huge hot hand grabbing his face. ‘What a shame you won’t be joining us. I was looking forward to a farewell hug.’
The Behemoth Fool turned the carriage around.
Arazod pointed at the one holding Karl’s cage. ‘I expect…’ He wheezed. ‘A full description of his pain. The begging…’ He coughed. ‘The crying…’ He wheezed. ‘All of it. Don’t return until they are both in the pit.’
Pit? Karl swallowed, imagining being thrown in a sand pit where his flesh and bones would disintegrate.
‘Must throw them in pit.’ The Behemoth Fool nodded, the order registering in its eyes with a yellow flicker.
‘Wait, Arazod. Don’t you want to personally see me die? Wasn’t that the whole point?’
‘Looking at your face.’ He wheezed and coughed. ‘You’re… you’re already dead.’ He turned to the Behemoth Fool. ‘Toy with them too. Make it painful.’
Behemoth Fool nodded, absorbing the order.
Karl watched Arazod’s carriage fade into the distance along with that tedious wheezing.
Questions woke up. She took in the surroundings and her eyes danced. ‘Are these the Dead Lands?’
‘It seems that way.’
‘Is this where there was a great battle between warriors and a dragon?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Is this where there was once a thriving kingdom of inventors?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘Is it true that everyone who is brought here dies?’
‘I hope not.’ Karl noticed the wheels were so deep in the sand they were being dragged.
‘Is it true that the sands are so hot they eat through skin and bone if you stand still?’
Karl huffed. ‘Doesn’t it bother you that we’re prisoners?’ He tried to shake the image of the creature he saw burn.
Questions looked like she considered his question. ‘Is it true that—’
‘Shut up, Questions!’
The cage jerked, stuck.
‘Quiet back there!’ Behemoth Fool ordered. It lifted the cage over its head. ‘I wouldn’t worry about the burning sands. You’re getting cast into the POES.’
‘POES?’ Karl questioned.
‘It stands for Pit of Endless Screams.’
Karl swallowed sharp dryness.
Questions whispered, ‘Did it say endless creams? Are we having cream?’
‘It said screams, Questions! Screams!’ Karl closed his eyes and took a breath. ‘We’re going to be pushed into a pit, where I’m guessing we will die. The endless screams bit probably means it’s pretty deep, maybe endless.’
Questions frowned, but she bit her lip, like she wanted to know more. Karl prayed she wouldn’t ask.
‘Do we eat cream first?’
Karl banged his head on the cage and groaned.
‘Does that mean yes?’
Karl felt like eating the scorching sand to melt himself.
They descended a sandy slope to what looked like the edge of the desert. Blue sand flowed around rocks and over a cliff like a stream into a waterfall.
It wasn’t the edge of the desert, but one side of the largest hole Karl had ever seen. It was uneven and cracked, like a giant creature had stomped t
hrough the ground with their castle-sized boot.
Behemoth Fool stopped on some rocks, dropped the cage by the edge of the cliff and unlocked it. ‘Just sit here, quietly, and I’ll push you in in a moment.’ Behemoth Fool threw them a rug and rummaged through its pockets. ‘The rocks are hot, but apparently not as deadly hot as that sand.’
Questions pulled the rug over the rocks and they sat.
Karl thought it might not be so bad to be thrown in. At least he would feel a breeze. ‘I’m sorry I got you into this, Questions.’
She smiled.
Behemoth Fool took a long gulp from its pouch of water and stood in front of the pit. Water ran down its belly and splatted the rocks.
Karl wanted to cry but he couldn’t spare the liquid.
‘Must toy with them,’ Behemoth Fool repeated its order.
‘Do you have to?’ Questions asked.
‘Have you ever thought of not doing what Arazod says?’ Karl added.
‘Must toy with them.’ It fumbled through its satchel and pulled out a dagger.
Karl and Questions shuffled back to the edge of the rock. Karl worried they would be thrown into the pit in smaller pieces, but Behemoth Fool threw the dagger into the pit and held its hand to its ear.
Karl and Questions listened out for an end to the drop. Nothing.
Behemoth Fool smiled.
Karl had to look over the edge. The pit blended from sand and rocks into endless darkness, with the faintest blue glow from the depths.
Behemoth Fool took a glass bottle of lotion. ‘Thought I’d lost this. Can never be too careful in this heat.’ It patted some on its head, and then extended the bottle to Karl and Questions. They looked at Behemoth Fool blankly.
‘Sorry. Just a little joke…’ It waited for a response. ‘No? Miserable.’ It huffed and looked for something else in its satchel.
Karl touched his rope-bound ankles to the sand. It ate at the rope but the heat burned a layer of Karl’s skin. He bit his bottom lip to contain the scream. He pulled his legs away, the rope now loose, and tied one end to a cage wheel. He covered his ankles with his cloak.
Behemoth Fool gave up looking through its satchel and huffed. ‘Toying is done. Now it’s time for throwing.’