The House of Yeel

by Michael McCloskey

  Jymoor turned to run in a panic. She bolted through the previous room and fumbled at the latch of the door to the stairs. Her shaking interfered with her dexterity so that the mechanism defied her for long seconds. She looked over her shoulder but saw no signs of pursuit. At last the door was open, and she ran up the sloped passage, winding round and round until coming to the top. She burst out of the passage and back into the kitchen.

  Jymoor came to a hallway but wasn’t sure which way to turn. She panicked for a moment until she heard the soft rustling of the fountain. She ran toward it and came to the room full of columns. She headed past the glowing curtain portal and out the way she had come.

  As she turned the corner, heading into the hallway toward the door, she was intercepted by a tall, thin man in heavy maroon robes.

  “Please, dear lady, do calm yourself. I assure you there is no need—”

  “Monster!” yelled Jymoor. “Run for your life!” She clutched at the man’s robes and tried to pull him toward the door.

  “Monster? Oh no, no. That is not the case at all, I very strongly assure you, my lady. If you would take a deep breath and let me explain, you will see that there is absolutely no need for any alarm on your part. Calm yourself, breathe deeply, and I shall make everything clear. Very clear, simple, easy to understand, you see.”

  Jymoor absorbed this speech reluctantly, at first ready to burst away without the stranger, and then with more calm, still looking repeatedly over her shoulder. At last she returned to the moment.

  “Who…are…” she stammered.

  The stranger shook his head. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Yeel. A collector of relics, examiner of artifacts. An alchemist at heart, really. I live here. So nice to meet you, my dear lady.”

  Chapter 2: A Plea for Help

  Jymoor’s eyes bulged. She had found the mighty Yeel! The tall man stood patiently before her, smiling serenely and shifting slightly in his reddish robes. She immediately believed his words, considering his height and pleasant appearance. She had imagined on her journey that the wizard would look either immensely handsome or unspeakably vile. Surely a personage of such stature could not look mundane. She felt relief that the other, darker, stories of his monstrous appearance were false.

  “Yeel? My lord? Ah, a horrible thing—”

  “The thing back there, the thing that you saw, which undoubtedly alarmed you, yes, of course, that was, um, just a gentle beast of burden, I assure you. It was my, ah, yes, a harmless creature, you see. He, ah, I mean it, yes it, trims the plants in the dome and generally keeps things in order. My helper, sentinel, a harmless worker.”

  Jymoor dropped to her knees and groveled.

  “Ah, no need for that my friend, I assure you. Neither I, Yeel, nor my, ah, nor the beast, the extremely kind and gentle beast that you saw, require any form of bowing or kneeling, I assure you. My good and very safe friend.”

  Jymoor kept a respectful pose and listened as best she could to the Great Yeel, but she was hard pressed to keep up with the rapid rate of banter that came from the tall, skinny man. Nevertheless, her relief grew as she learned that this was Yeel, and apparently the awful thing she had seen presented no danger.

  “Forgive me, Yeel. You mean, it’s like some sort of…giant goat?” asked Jymoor, still breathing heavily.

  “Yes, yes, exactly like a giant goat. Only different. But no harm in any case. Are you all right, my friend? I inquire simply because of the odd pose you’ve struck, which looks to me rather uncomfortable and might in fact damage your knees if you do not eventually continue the natural motion by lying on the ground or else perhaps reverse the idea and return to your normal…that is, our normal standing position. Normal being the usual configuration of our bodies. Being normal regular people, of course, which clearly we both are.”

  “Forgive me, Great Yeel,” Jymoor said, rising cautiously. “About the beast. May I ask what’s it doing inside? I thought it was holding some tools.”

  “Oh. Well, it can’t very well be outside with the harapins, now can it? May I take your travel cloak, ah…?”

  “I’m Jymoor, a gift to you, my lord. I’m sorry for coming into your house unannounced, but my people seek your aid, mighty one.”

  “No harm done, Jymoor. That is, ah, yes, no harm done. First we shall endeavor to locate you some food and drink so you may shake the weariness of the road. Then perhaps you can tell me what this aid is you require. That would be an optimum series of events as near as I can figure.”

  Yeel stepped hesitantly one direction and then the other.

  “You…you do know where the kitchen is?” Jymoor asked uncertainly.

  “Of course I—that is, I…well, you know, it…just follow me. I shall deduce its location.”

  “Deduce? Is this your home?”

  “It is my sanctuary. I’m familiar with the basic principles upon which it has been laid out, therefore I should be able to locate the kitchen quickly,” Yeel said.

  “The kitchen is this way,” Jymoor said. “I remember I went through there on the way in.” The traveler had a troubled look on her face. “Are you really the Great Yeel?”

  “I assure you that I am Yeel. Lay your doubts to rest,” the odd man said. “I feel sorry that you were forced to remember where the kitchen is. It seems such a shame. Really, my humble abode is hardly worthy of such effort on your part, my friend.”

  Jymoor stared at Yeel for a moment, trying to understand just what the man was saying.

  “No need to feel sorry, Lord Yeel. I just happened to remember because I was just in there recently—”

  “But to have put forth such heroic effort to remember such a minuscule detail and it’s not even your sanctuary! Indeed, I am indebted to you. Lead on, by all means,” Yeel said.

  “Yes, it was this way…”

  Jymoor retraced her steps with the skinny white-haired man in tow. They came into the kitchen and Yeel looked around.

  “An adjoining room must be set aside for consumption of food items,” Yeel said. He turned full circle looking around the kitchen and then spotted a small table. Moving the table into the middle of the room, Yeel indicated a chair to Jymoor. “Please have a seat, be my guest. No doubt there is a supply of food in this area,” he said.

  Jymoor stared at Yeel from her seat at the table, trying to take in the man and his frenzied dialogue. The maroon robe flowed oddly, almost disturbingly, as Yeel moved about, bringing plates of food to the visitor. It almost seemed as if the man floated. Long, thin hands extended from the arms of the richly colored garb. She examined his narrow head framed in short dark hair. He was handsome, she decided, though his dark eyes bulged just a bit. He had flecks of gray at the temples, which was to be expected considering his reported age of greater than one hundred years.

  “However did you manage to get past the harapins?” asked Yeel. “I distinctly remembered a lot of them, since they would be so dangerous to forget. They’ve kept visitors from this place for quite some time, I fear. Did you come by land or sea? Or other? I really must know, please do not deny me the details of your arrival, my dearest of friends named Jymoor.”

  “Uh, by land, my lord,” Jymoor stammered. “There were the remains of a large beast, perhaps a harapin. But truly, no such monster attacked me.”

  “Of course you speak truly! I would entertain no other such thought, not for a second, I assure you. May I ask for clarification? You came to the house without resistance?” Yeel asked. “Your way was unbarred? Uncontested? Without opposition? Please, do take some sustenance.”

  Jymoor bowed again. “That is so. I apologize, my lord. I did not mean to invade your—”

  “No problem at all. Quite all right. Anytime. I am, after all, not at all opposed to visitation, whether of the friendly kind or of a matter of more urgent business. Please ingest some of these edibles, for they are offered at no cost to you, I promise.”

  Jymoor examined the multicolored chunks of unidentifiable matter arrayed befor
e her on the plates. “I’m very glad to hear—” Jymoor said.

  “Now please relate to me the circumstance by which you have come here, the reason for your quest, your goal in seeking me out. I am, after all, a simple collector of artifacts, a tinkerer if you will, an—”

  “Alchemist at heart?” Jymoor finished for Yeel, trying out the tactic of counterinterrupting. It seemed to be almost the only way to get a word in to the talkative host. Jymoor picked up a red cube with a spiked stick and placed it on the plate before her.

  “Why yes, that is exactly me. Alchemy truly is the most wonderful of sciences. Why just before you arrived, I was…well, when you…perhaps you will please tell me now why you have come? I didn’t already miss your explanation, did I? Oh surely not. I wouldn’t forget that! Did I?”

  Jymoor thought that perhaps the Great Yeel had damaged himself in one too many experiments since mankind had last encountered him. The man clearly suffered from acute logomania. Nevertheless, she resolved to try her best to secure the tall wizard’s help.

  “We need your help, mighty Yeel,” Jymoor began. “A terrible migration of barbarians threatens our civilization! I have come to seek your aid in keeping the hordes at bay. Take me as your first payment—”

  “Oh my friend, I am afraid that is impossible. You see, I make it a rule not to meddle in human…I mean, I don’t interfere in conflicts between nations, you see. I am, after all, only a humble tinkerer, a collector, a dabbler in the arts of potions and metal smithing. I experiment with substances, investigate the phenomena of nature, and indulge my creative impulses here within the walls of my abode.”

  “My people are helpless before these invaders! We will surely fall without your assistance!”

  “I realize that this may be hard to assimilate from your biased perspective,” began Yeel, “but there exists the very real possibility that the very strength of culture that allows these so-called barbarians to overcome you may be a natural part of the balance of life, and if in fact their philosophies and traditions prove more efficient than your own, then it may be for the best that they come to dominate this continent. Speaking in the long term, I mean.”

  Jymoor realized that the great wizard might be negotiating with her. She took a deep breath and left her seat to walk to Yeel’s side. She dropped to one knee and lowered her head.

  “Know, Great Yeel, that I have been instructed to offer myself as a gift for whatever purposes you may desire. I am a pious and pure virgin—”

  “Ah, yes, well, despite your, um, obvious suitability for breeding, I am, ah, infertile for now. Yes, I am unready at this time. Please do not be offended if I refuse with absolutely no intentions of offending you or your…family?”

  “Or if you wish to make use of me for sacrifice…I am ready to willingly participate in exchange for a pledge of aid to my nation Riken. You know, should you need me for your…magical rituals.”

  “Very kind of you, yes, I can see that you mean that. But I need no additional organic reagents at this time. Giving up your own life for superfluous components would be unwise, I’m afraid.”

  Jymoor stood up, her eyes filling with tears. Yeel had rejected her most urgent appeals for help.

  “These men from the steppes, they’re like animals! They come in immense numbers, hard, savage men who have no sense of honor or mercy! They’ll destroy Riken! How can that be—”

  “They sound like a hardy bunch. And they must have mastered complex economic principles to field an army of superior numbers. Also, it sounds as if they have a highly advanced offensive branch. Perhaps these fine qualities will enable them to prevail in the evolution of societies.”

  Jymoor did not understand the words Yeel used. She blinked, then continued her plea. “But they will ravage our cities! Burn the palaces, the markets, the libraries…”

  “Now, wait a minute there, my little friend,” Yeel interrupted. “Did you say libraries? Libraries, as in repositories of knowledge, implying that libraries as well as palaces and markets will be destroyed? Or were you starting a new sentence, merely preparing to say that the libraries will be spared, as surely they will be?”

  “Uh, ah, no, Great Yeel! They will most certainly burn the libraries to the ground, as they have already done at Liscenium and Talgam. They spare no man, woman, or child! The horde–”

  “Burns libraries?” Yeel demanded again.

  “Yes, it is true, my lord.”

  “Well that is hardly…I don’t know if I can…well, perhaps just this once I will attempt to intervene. But only after due investigation into the matter. I must verify these deeds of which you speak.”

  “You will help us? Oh, thank you, my Lord Yeel! We shall strive to be worthy of your assistance!” Jymoor dropped back to her knees, bowing before Yeel.

  “Please, return to your seat if you find it comfortable…consume some of the nourishment I’ve provided. Rest and regain your strength. Be assured that I’ll look into this matter!”

  Jymoor returned to her seat, so pleased by this turn of the conversation that she endeavored to eat the cube she had acquired. It slid into her mouth and resisted her chewing motions like a rubbery vine. She found the taste acceptable, somewhat like that of a ripe grenzarn fruit.

  “There are certain universal strategies beneficial to sentient cultures, including the acquisition, absorption, and accumulation of knowledge. Your people do believe in the value of knowledge, do you not? Hence the formation of libraries, yes?”

  “Uh, my Lord Yeel, we do have vast libraries in the capital city. As we did have at Liscenium and Talgam, before the horde felled these great citadels.”

  “The capital, what do you call it, contains the last significant library your nation has constructed?”

  “The capital is Maristaple, my lord. Yes, the library there is extensive, the largest ever assembled.”

  “We must leave as soon as the strictures of responsible preparation allow,” Yeel said. “Surely you require rest. I’ll show you to your guest chambers. There is much preparation required for an operation of this magnitude!”

  Jymoor bowed her head. “I require no special accommodations…”

  “This way,” Yeel called, and bolted off down one of the pristine corridors. Jymoor followed nervously, afraid to be left alone with the horrible green creature loose in the house. Yeel turned, hesitated, and then continued down the hall as if confused.

  Finally they arrived at a large set of double doors, and Yeel opened them with a flourish, revealing an immense, lushly decorated sleeping chamber. It appeared fit for royalty. Jymoor gasped and shook her head.

  “My lord, I am but a humble girl, a gift to you! I am not worthy of such exalted sleeping quarters—”

  “Oh, please, I do insist. You must stay at my convenience. You’ve traveled so hard and labored for so long to find me. It is the least I could do. Go inside now and find your rest. I assure you that the, um, creature that you encountered earlier will not trouble you again. Yes, that is a sure thing. I shall ensure it myself. As well I shall concern myself with all aspects of your safety, I assure you.”

  “I thank you—”

  “Not necessary, I assure you, as you are clearly my very close friend and companion. Now, you must get some sleep since your kind, um, that is to say that we both need our rest that is certain. Tomorrow you must relate to me everything you know about human warfare so that I might make a study of it. Every scrap of knowledge will need to be analyzed.”

  “I will—”

  “Good!” exclaimed Yeel. The sorcerer nudged Jymoor into the room and then closed the door in her face. Jymoor stood for some seconds in shock, and then shrugged. At least she had accomplished her mission, and Yeel, although disturbingly odd, did not seem inclined to kill or torture her.

  Still, he had mentioned something about being a very close companion. Jymoor steeled herself again. The idea struck her that perhaps Yeel had put her in this magnificent chamber because he intended to visit her here later. If Y
eel chose her as concubine, it would be her duty to please him. Her people’s fate might depend upon it.

  Jymoor turned and prepared herself for sleep.

  ***

  As the door closed, Yeel popped off one of his eye pods and tossed it into the room. It would be best if his guest were observed, for her own safety of course. Yeel slid down the corridor toward his lab. Inside the room, he could see the traveler begin to absorb her surroundings.

  Considering the situation ahead, it may not have been wise to use one of his eyes to monitor Jymoor. Still, Yeel had four adult eyes growing on his vision tentacle, and at least six others starting to form farther down his eye ridge. Besides, the one he had used was getting ripe. Yeel enjoyed sight from an eye pod for a day or two after it had been detached, but if it grew too old on the stalk it would rot and fall off, useless.

  Once he reached the lab he allowed himself to relax. That had been a close one. Yeel let the defensive illusion fall from his mind. Any observer would once again perceive him in his real form: that of a many-tentacled green cone that slid over the ground. He retained his extreme height, perhaps half again the height of an average man. It was easier to masquerade as an unusually high man than to work that detail into the illusion.

  So these people ask for the assistance of Yeel, he pondered to himself. It seemed very odd to Yeel, who recalled only the shock and horror of the natives when they last encountered him in his natural form. Somehow over the years the stories of his brief appearance in their tiny cities must have grown. And he also remembered how he had stopped that firestorm that threatened to consume their entire habitation. The natives displayed awe at his simple demonstration of the most basic principles of alchemy.

  “Why not? I shall help the poor creatures. Perhaps this will be my chance to clear my rather tainted reputation with the natives.”