The First Adventure

by Mark Boutros

  It shot hot, orange lumps from its stinger that burned white sand next to Questions.

  ‘Leave her!’ Oaf smacked the sculpture against the dragon-scorpion’s head. It tried to pinch Oaf but a golden sword sliced its pincer.

  It shrieked and a hooded woman cut its arm off.

  Oaf punched the beast in the mouth.

  It growled, grabbed Humpy’s carcass and dragged it into the sand to a world below, leaving a trail of blood.

  Oaf, exhausted, fell to the floor and stared at Humpy’s blood.

  Questions exhaled. 'Are you okay?'

  Oaf nodded.

  ‘Those monsters are pests.’ The woman placed a hand on Oaf’s shoulder and removed her hood, revealing brown eyes, brown hair and a travel-worn, muscular face of around forty years of age.

  ‘Quick, before he’s cooked.’ She rushed to Karl.

  Questions gasped.

  ‘This is how the dragon-scorpions kill their victims.’ She made an incision along the red wrapping around Karl's body. ‘It coats them in this webbing, then spews that hot mess which gets absorbed by it and slowly cooks what's inside.’ She peeled the casing off Karl’s body. ‘Makes the meat peel off the bone nicely, not that I’ve tried it.’

  Questions and Oaf uncovered Karl’s face. The woman hesitated when she saw it.

  ‘Will he survive?’ Questions asked.

  ‘Seems… Yes, he should.’ She stared.

  Karl’s face was red and most of his clothes had burned.

  ‘Thank you.’ Oaf put the Knight With No Name back in her place.

  The spear-throwing creature returned from the sea and removed his sack.

  ‘Hello there,’ Scrath said.

  Questions grinned and hugged him. The other Tree-Cyclopsi approached and removed their sacks.

  ‘Why did you have a sack on your head?’

  ‘I told them to. I’m Larnela.’ She shook hands with Questions and Oaf. ‘The costumes were just for effect in case we ran into bandits. Someone with a sack on their head is far scarier than someone with a face.’

  ‘Especially one as lovely as mine,’ Scrath added.

  Oaf's face fell. ‘Where’s Tortured Soul?’ He opened the sack and put his hand to his chest. He took her out. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yeah. Why? Did something happen?’

  ‘Just a battle with a dragon-scorpion.’

  ‘Oh… Okay. Can you put me back in? I’m a bit busy.’

  ‘Sure…’ Oaf put her back and shrugged.

  ‘Come with us,’ Larnela said. ‘I’ve got a cave not far away, depending on how you define far.’

  ‘We need to keep going. We have to get back to Flowforn by tonight,’ Oaf said.

  ‘No chance. It’s at least three sunsets away,’ Larnela said.

  ‘What?’ Questions gazed into the distance.

  ‘So we can’t save Sabrinia…’ Oaf hung his head.

  ‘You can get there tonight if you take one of my boats.’

  ‘Can we?’ Questions grabbed Larnela’s hand.

  She nodded. ‘The rapids will get you to the edges of Flowforn Forest swiftly, but there’s every chance you’ll be thrown from the boat and drown.’

  Oaf looked at Questions. ‘We have to try.’

  ‘Well, then you’ll have a moment to get patched up and eat, so come on.’

  Oaf nodded. ‘I’ll catch up…’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Questions asked.

  ‘I just need a moment.’

  ‘Make sure you’re not followed,’ Larnela warned. The others left with her.

  When they were gone, Oaf stood waist deep in the sea, in the last place his mother took a breath. He was sure he felt her spirit hug him but it was probably the warmth of the sun. He missed her touch, the way she made him feel more than he was and her peaceful energy. He gazed at the sunlight reflecting off the calm water. The rows of sculptures behind him made him feel tiny. He wiped his eyes, took the sculpture of The Stranger, looked at the face and twisted Lord Ragnus’ head off. He threw the rest of the sculpture as far as he could and watched it sink. He held Lord Ragnus’ sculpted head in his hand and smashed his fist into it.

  38

  Questions thought the brown, clay cavern was cramped but cosy. Everyone ate fruit and traded stories about what had happened and how they’d ended up there, apart from Larnela. She had gone to gather fish and more fruit.

  Scrath explained that the Tree-Cyclopsi had to flee Lake Shizneh when Lord Ragnus chased him. He told them about Karl sacrificing himself to help him to survive, and that Arazod now had the wings.

  Tortured Soul ignored everything. All Morcoli’s jars of herbs and potions seemed to jog memories and Questions thought it best to leave her to it.

  ‘Don’t forget to jump in your water bottle from time to time,’ Oaf told Tortured Soul.

  ‘Yep,’ she replied.

  ‘Let me go,’ a tied-up Fool moaned. ‘Must guard the castle! Must help with the execution.’

  Oaf jammed a cloth into its mouth.

  Scrath nodded at the Fool. ‘Lord Ragnus got fed up with chasing us and knocked this one out for no real reason other than he’s a very, very angry man. We thought it’d be best to grab it just in case, but now we’re not really sure what to do with it.’

  The Fool strained against the ropes.

  Scrath gestured to six Tree-Cyclopsi. ‘This is our army for stopping Arazod. Not counting Wob of course.’ He placed his hand on her head. She was barely up to Oaf’s knee.

  ‘I can help!’ Wob protested.

  ‘But won’t,’ Scrath replied.

  Oaf blinked. ‘Well, it’s more than just me, Questions and Tortured Soul, so thanks.’

  Larnela entered and placed a bucket of fish on the table.

  ‘Larnela, will you join our fight?’ Scrath asked.

  She shook her head. ‘Sorry… I’ve spent my life running away from trouble. I’m not going to go chasing it.’ She huffed. ‘I need to rest.’ She blew her hair out of her face and exited.

  ‘What about the rude people?’ Wob asked.

  ‘Ah yes. They complain that we interfere with their relaxation.’ Scrath shook his head and pointed to a hole. ‘They’re through there. Maybe you’ll have better luck with them.’

  Oaf sucked his tummy in and squeezed through the tight cave. Questions noticed his face brighten and she followed.

  Bar Witch stirred fruit into ale in a hole. Was it really her?

  Frong rested his head on Sags’ shoulder and they drank. Questions couldn’t believe it.

  Oaf smiled at Frong who stood, realised how drunk he was then sat back down. ‘Aren’t you a sight for old, diseased eyes?’ He grinned, his beard filthy.

  ‘How are you alive?’ Questions asked.

  ‘Charming.’ Bar Witch continued stirring.

  ‘You know what she means,’ Oaf said. ‘We thought you might have died in a fire.’

  ‘Ah, that.’ Frong pointed at Bar Witch. ‘Clumsy broom there knocked a lantern over when we all got too drunk. We didn’t notice the fire until we were very much in it. Had we been sober, we may have thought about putting the fire out, but we ran instead.’

  Sags grunted.

  ‘Yeah. It did Sags a favour.’

  Sags showed his now less disgusting foot, got up and walked without his limp.

  Questions laughed.

  ‘Burnt all the dirty hair and most of the other filth, so he’s his old self again. If we’d known fire did the trick we could’ve cured him long ago. It turns out dragon phlegm made his foot immune to burning, so he could withstand the heat needed to cure him of all the other filths, then the phlegm peeled off quite nicely.’

  Sags grunted.

  ‘We kept running until we could rest a night without seeing a Fool and ended up here…’ He drank some more. ‘You know, I feel sorry for the Fools. Can’t be much of a life being cursed to follow orders.’

  Oaf looked at the ground.

  ‘Where’s the idiot?’ Bar Witch as
ked.

  Oaf shook his head.

  ‘Can you please come with me?’ Questions asked.

  Questions took them to Karl and hoped they could help.

  Bar Witch poked Karl’s face.

  ‘So, do you think you can cure him?’ she asked.

  Bar Witch put a hand on Questions’ shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, love. He’s petrified. Magical ale I can brew, and weird tricks I can perform. Curing the petrified though… that’s for the gifted ones.’

  Scrath looked at his Tree-Cyclopsi apologetically.

  Tortured Soul was oblivious to it all, mumbling. ‘Human toe. Worm-fish blood. Sweat of the frog-bee.’ Was she going mad?

  ‘What about you two?’ Questions pointed at Frong and Sags. ‘Are you the greatest adventurers? Is there a relic that can help him?’

  Frong took a swig of his ale. ‘We were the greatest as a three, but as a two we’re more useless than great.’

  Sags released a sad grunt and held Frong’s hand.

  ‘Yeah,’ Frong replied.

  ‘What did he say?’ Questions asked.

  ‘He wishes our old pal Marlens was here. It was her that got us through most adventures with her planning and potions.’

  Tortured Soul coughed, then coughed some more. She stumbled into the jars. ‘My head!’ She spewed lumpy water all over herself and anything close by.

  Questions ran over to her. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Her bottle! Liquid!’ Oaf grabbed it and poured water on her.

  ‘My head! It stings!’ She exploded into a grey mess.

  ‘Where’s she gone?’ Questions asked.

  Tortured Soul was reduced to a puddle of grey liquid.

  Oaf dropped the bottle of water and stood. Tears flooded Questions’ eyes.

  Oaf pulled her tight to his chest. ‘I…’

  ‘Why do bad things keep happening?’ Questions said.

  Oaf released Questions and tried to scoop the grey mess into the bottle.

  Frong kneeled by him. ‘I don’t think that will work, friend.’

  Everyone waited for someone else to say something, but what was there to say?

  Coughs filled the air, and a smooth-skinned witch with short red hair emerged from behind a rock. The sack of jars covered her pasty, naked body.

  ‘Don’t cry, Questions and Oaf. You should be chuffed you don’t have to lug me around in that bottle no more.’

  Questions stared, open-mouthed.

  ‘Marlens!’ Frong ran over and squeezed her, as did Sags.

  ‘You know it,’ she strained from Frong’s hug.

  ‘But you died,’ Bar Witch said.

  ‘Nope. Just got massively tortured.’ She adjusted the bag to be more comfortable and hugged Bar Witch. ‘When the ledge collapsed in that volcano I ended up in some cavern. That stone fisted madman found me, and when I wouldn’t tell him where the sandals of power were, he tortured me pretty badly. Not the friendliest thing to do.’

  She swiped the ales from Frong and Sags and threw them away. ‘What are you doin'?’ She turned to everyone else. ‘These fellas used to be thin and motivated!’

  Questions chuckled, her heart swelled with joy.

  ‘Thank you. For everythin',’ Marlens said to Oaf and Questions. She held Questions’ hands. ‘The breath from a true friend. That’s the missin' ingredient.’

  Questions smiled. She’d been through so much with Karl.

  Sags grunted and grabbed a glass jar.

  ‘Why are you makin' noises?’ Marlens asked.

  ‘He cut out his tongue thinking it would bring you back,’ Frong said.

  She touched Sags’ cheek. ‘You always were a bit dim, weren’t you?’ She smiled. ‘But also the sweetest.’

  Sags grunted acceptance. He held the glass jar to Questions’ mouth.

  Marlens nodded. ‘A big breath please. Think of all the things.’

  Questions closed her eyes. She thought of everything she had been through with Karl and all the places they had adventured to. It also made her think of the love Sabrinia had shown her and the joy she felt travelling with Oaf and Tortured Soul. She breathed into the jar and fogged up the glass.

  Sags sealed it.

  ‘I have so many questions, Marlens,’ Frong said.

  ‘Questions can wait. Right now, we have our petrified pal to save.’ She turned to everyone. ‘I need two buckets, a fire, an iron pot, six branches, water, a spoon, and three fish.’

  ‘Three fish?’ Bar Witch asked.

  ‘I’m hungry.’

  Marlens’ process was hypnotic. There was certainty in every action. She boiled four branches in the iron pot full of water. She poured worm-fish blood into one bucket and frog-bee sweat into the other. She cut the human toe in half and put a half in each bucket. She bashed the buckets together, and then used the last two branches to stir each. When a skin-like layer formed on one of the mixtures, she removed it and placed it in the other, swung that bucket by the handle, then poured its contents into the iron pot. She stirred with both branches until they boiled down, and then dropped the jar of Questions’ breath into it. The mixture glowed a sky blue.

  Marlens smelled it, smiled, took the back end of a spoon, dipped it in the pot, blew on it a few times and then poked it up Karl’s nose. ‘Petrification starts in the heart, but ends in the brain, so we need to unlock it.’

  Questions held her breath.

  Marlens sat back. ‘Next we wait until…’ She took a bite out of her fish. ‘Now!’

  Nothing happened.

  ‘What?’ Marlens tapped her fingers. ‘It’s the right mix. I don’t know what’s gone wrong.’

  ’Is my breath bad?’ Questions clasped her hands. Did thinking of the others while she breathed make it bad?

  ‘Maybe you’re just rusty is all, Marlens,’ Frong said.

  ‘I don’t get rusty.’

  ‘Does this mean he’s… dead?’ Questions asked.

  Black mucus washed out of Karl’s nostrils. He groaned.

  ‘Ah, it just takes longer ’cos he’s naturally a bit weaker than most.’

  Karl’s body spasmed and he jerked up. He looked around the room, his chest rose and fell. ‘Hello everyone… Everyone?’

  They all smiled, thrilled to have him back.

  The shock of everything hit him and he collapsed.

  39

  Karl opened his eyes.

  Oaf’s big face smiled down on him.

  ‘You’re okay… you’re okay,’ Oaf said.

  Oaf explained everything to Karl, and then explained it again, but slower.

  ‘Thank you all,’ Karl said with a hint of sadness.

  ‘Why are you still in Hastovia?’ Questions asked.

  Karl sighed. ‘There is no portal.’ He remembered the wall; the hopelessness.

  ‘Nonsense,’ Frong said. ‘The legend of the useless woman of Two B has been told for thousands of sunsets, and the story has always remained the same. The sign of a true tale.’

  ‘Karl’s right.’ Larnela emerged from her rocky room. ‘There is no portal in Cell Two B.’

  ‘Well, then how did the idiot of Two B just vanish?’ Frong asked.

  ‘She escaped.’ Larnela’s eyes scanned Karl from head to toe.

  He wasn’t sure if she was looking at him with suspicion or romantic interest. He assumed it was the latter.

  ‘But my sources are very reliable,’ Frong said.

  ‘What are they?’ Larnela questioned.

  ‘Journals and travellers.’

  ‘Drunk…’ Bar Witch pointed out.

  ‘Drunk travellers,’ Frong corrected. ‘More keen to share than any normal person, and often more revealing in the nature of their conversation.’

  ‘Well my source is pretty reliable too.’ Larnela poked an apple with her sword, drew it to her mouth and took a bite. ‘The Two B idiot, as you call her, is me.’

  Karl wished they hadn't revived him.

  It confirmed his worst fears. Not only was there no portal
in Flowforn, but there was likely no portal anywhere.

  Frong shook his head. ‘But what about the stories that spread through the land of monsters and portals?’

  ‘Made up to spare embarrassment.’ Larnela grabbed a spear and skewered some fish. ‘Grab a stone to sit on, and whatever you want to eat.’

  Karl stared at the cave wall, lost in his own thoughts but desperate for the truth.

  Larnela ran her hand over the fire. ‘I didn’t escape through a door to another world. I walked out thanks to the guard.’ She turned the fish over the fire. ‘He watched the door all the time, so obviously he got bored and we got talking. And well, we fell in love.’

  It all made sense; much more sense than a portal. The familiar feeling of being inferior and worthless washed over Karl.

  ‘He freed me and we fled, but were chased by my lover’s former friend, another guard called Ludan. He was ordered by King Sastin to find and kill us.’

  ‘King Sastin was a hero. He’d never do that,’ Karl said.

  She scratched her cheek. ‘King Sastin became a hero, only after he’d done many unheroic things and learned from them.’ She shrugged. ‘He was desperate to prevent word getting out that Flowforn couldn’t hold its prisoners. The embarrassment would be huge and people would leave, scared they weren’t protected from idiots. He didn’t want anyone to ever leave. His vision would die.’

  ‘But the portals?’ Frong said.

  ‘A cover story. It justified mages and knights looking around the realm for us. Otherwise people would start asking questions.’

  Larnela removed the fish and placed them on the rock table. She chopped them into pieces for everyone.

  ‘I’m sorry, Karl, I was so sure…’ Frong said.

  Karl shook his head. ‘Don’t worry, Frong. You gave me more hope than I’ve ever had. For a while I felt like somebody.’

  Scrath clenched his fists. ‘You are somebody. You’re the person to lead us against Arazod and Lord Ragnus.’

  ‘I’m not.’ Karl swallowed the sadness.

  ‘Who’s going to help us to save Sabrinia?’ Questions asked.

  ‘I… I don’t know… I’m not the hero you’re after.’ Karl hung his head and left the cave.

  He sat on a rock, stared at the night and listened to the waves. He wished he’d been killed and not petrified. What was the point of his life? To keep running from a weird tyrant? It didn’t seem like much of a purpose.