The Dagger-Key and The Lost Treasures of Kebadon

by Daniel Ferguson

  * * *

  Washburrn reached into his vest pocket. “You’ll need this parchment pad and lead stick if you’re going to draw a new map.”

  “But these are mine.” Kyhawn gave him an odd look as he held his hand out.

  “Pays to come prepared. I took them from your cabac. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Kyhawn flipped his pad to an empty piece of parchment. “No, I don’t mind,” he said as he took hold of the other handle.

  “I know a terrific place to rebury the chest,” Washburrn said as he led the way to a location somewhere between the beach and where they had buried it the first time. Every so often they stopped as he pointed out a landmark for Kyhawn to note on the new map. This went on until Washburrn nodded toward a vine-covered tree. “Under these vines here. Not only would it be well hidden, but good and dry. But not too close to this tree. We don’t want to run into any roots.”

  Kyhawn, starting to look a bit tired, thought to himself, I was hoping he’d say that soon.

  Afterwards, as the chest set off to one side on them, Kyhawn, with lead-stick in hand, drew the final location on the new map, then showed his mentor the results.

  Washburrn nodded. “Terrific. Now, you do realize no one’s to know the whereabouts of this chest except us and Alil.” Washburrn gave him a strict look. “That includes your two young friends. It’d only endanger their lives.”

  Kyhawn slowly nodded. “I understand.”

  Washburrn picked up two short but sturdy sticks and handed one to Kyhawn. “Well, let’s get her buried.”

  Though Kyhawn wanted to try and open the chest before they buried it. His need for rest overwhelmed his curiosity for seeing what was truly inside. He plunged the stick into the ground, glancing at the chest. “I sure wish we had more time to investigate what’s inside.” He paused. “I almost had it open the other day.”

  Washburrn too plunged his stick into the ground, giving his apprentice a thin smile, “Even if we did, be a waste of time. We already know what’s in here,” he said as he continued to dig. And while doing so the two of them became quiet in their own thoughts. While Washburrn thought about retiring and living the remainder of his life in peace and harmony with nature. Kyhawn thought about the contents within the chest, the cave, sandcastles, and the dagger-key.

  A few broken sticks later, the chest lay in its new resting place. While they packed dirt in and around it, then on top, Washburrn finished telling him about his unsuccessful search for Mekon on the mountaintop.

  Kyhawn rose and brushed the dirt off his legs, then went to the vine covered tree and rested against the large vines. He tapped his stick on the ground as if in thought, “If Emit’s still alive, we’ll get him and that Mekon as well.” He tossed his stick into the thick of the trees. “I guess you know about that one friend of… that guy posing as La’mamm, who was eaten by a white flower tree.”

  “I heard.” Washburrn sat with his legs crossed. “Then it’s possible those two Zacs I told you about were also eaten by a tree. Did you actually see what happened?”

  Kyhawn nodded, “Yes. And it wasn’t a pleasant sight.” He took a deep breath. “At least everyone knows to look out for white flowers.”

  “Indeed.”

  Kyhawn turned toward him. “There’s something I wanted to tell you. While they were forcing me to help them dig up the chest, Lord Mytoolwan claimed they weren’t pirates, and by taking this chest, they were doing something good for the world. What do you think he meant by that?”

  “Not sure.” Washburrn yawned. “But if anyone knows what’s going on, it’s Captain Joenf. First light tomorrow we’ll go see how he’s doing.”

  “As barmy as it may sound, my dreams seem to have something to do with all of this. I haven’t said anything to anyone until now, but I had a similar one just the other night. If you remember, I dreamed about a small, canister-shaped object more than once.”

  “I recall your mentioning a canister.”

  “Anyway,” Kyhawn turned to his side; his eyes wide, “this large gray bird flew out from the canister, like the one in my other dream.” Excited, Kyhawn raised his arms out like wings as he spoke. “Only this time the bird spread its wings and multiplied into thousands of gray birds, scattering everywhere … I mean throughout the entire world.”

  Washburrn looked at him, somewhat spooked. “That’s some dream. You know, I think I’ve been out of the detective business too long to be dealing with this kind of work again.” He stretched his arms and cupped them behind his head. His handsome silverish-blue face stared beyond the branches above them at the night sky. “This entire ordeal reminds me of a jigsaw puzzle I once had. Some of the pieces were missing. I’m not much on dreams, but I must admit, your dreams sound like that old puzzle of mine. They too are missing a few pieces. A few important pieces,” he said as he closed his eyes.

  Kyhawn nodded, looking surprised. “That was well said, and you’re absolutely right. My dreams are like puzzles with pieces missing.”

  Washburrn raised an eyebrow. “Well, I don’t know for sure what all is in this chest, but I do know one thing for sure.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We’re going to do our best to keep whatever it is out of the hands of those Pirates, Grongels, Religious Fanatics, and anyone else. At least until we reach the port of Adrolf.”

  Kyhawn stared at the spot where they’d buried the chest, then turned to him. “Did you really mean it when you said you didn’t believe in Goducess, or any other Gods?”

  “Can’t we talk about something else …?” Washburrn stared at the moon. “I had a wife once. She was a good-hearted, God-fearing Zac. We always went to church together when I was home. But now she’s dead. She died in a coach accident. No, Kyhawn, I do not believe in the Gods, and that includes Goducess.”

  Kyhawn sighed. “I’m sorry. I mean, I’m sorry for you.”

  “I don’t care to talk about it. Let’s rest before our return to camp.”

  “It will be getting light in a few hours.” Kyhawn didn’t mind as he enjoyed spending time with Washburrn. He went on to tell him all about his dagger-key and sandcastle theory, but soon found Washburrn had dozed off. Kyhawn smiled at him, sat up, and tried to keep a watch on where they buried the chest. However, his eyelids seemed to grow heavier with each breath. Lost deep within his thoughts, he heard a click, as if a window had opened. Suddenly he found himself crawling through one.

  He picked up a long dagger whose blade sparkled with inlaid jewels. He laid it down and picked up a strange-looking hollow wand and stared at the small holes someone had drilled into its hull. Inlaid jewels decorated its entire length. He dropped it when he noticed a jeweled necklace. A gray bird hung from its chain. “Look here,” he said as his entire body went cold, but no one was there. He put on the necklace, and a burning sensation rushed down his spine. When he yanked the necklace off, it disappeared, and the burning sensation went away.

  He blinked his eyes, and saw a strangely familiar wooden canister before him. He picked it up to admire its beautiful carvings. It looks like a map, he thought as he studied its entire surface. He then shook it, but it sounded empty. Noting the peg-lock system on the canister was similar to the one on the chest, he started to push in one peg, then another. He continued to do this until he shouted, “That’s it—I’ve done it!”

  He opened its lid and looked inside. “There’s nothing here,” he said as he gazed inside the empty canister. Suddenly a sailor’s scarf appeared. When he went to unfold the scarf, it disappeared. The rim on the canister grew into a large circle, then the circle changed into a window. He soon found himself walking through the window into a long dark tunnel. The chest appeared before him, weighted down with jewels and the canister. He leaned forward, and the chest turned into a small chest. He held it in his hands, but the lid fell to the ground. Pieces of parchment flew into the air and turned into a large gray bird, which then turned into many gray birds. Second
s later the birds turned into dark clouds. Then the small chest became an ordinary box. He looked inside and found another sailor’s scarf. Or was it the same one? he wondered.

  He blinked his eyes as if bothered by a bright light, and the box turned back into the small chest. He laid it aside, and it turned into the peg-lock chest. An eerie sound roared from it, then a flock of gray birds emerged. He closed his eyes, fell to the ground, and wrapped his arms around his head to protect himself.

  A moment later, he opened his eyes and found himself lost in an unfamiliar landscape. The sky was dark and full of clouds, like gray birds traveling across the sky. Darkness fell upon everything and everyone. Suddenly a shield emerged from underground, dusty at first, but in the sunlight, the dust fell to the wayside. The shield shone with the power of two suns.

  The scene changed. A flock of gray birds raced toward him. He tried to protect himself, but there was no place to hide. Seconds later, he found himself dressed like a soldier on a battlefield.

  The birds joined together forming one gigantic bird with claws and a long narrow sharp beak. Fangs like a wild boar draped the sides of its beak. Kyhawn swung his sword at it. On the third swing, he found himself naked and defenseless. However, a ghostly figure appeared before him and formed a golden protective wall between him and the gray bird.

  Suddenly there it was again, the peg-lock chest, but within it was the dagger-key along with what looked like ancient jewels and other artifacts, including the canister, the jeweled dagger, and the wand. The chest floated through a window toward him. He stared at the chest, but when he went to touch it, it disappeared. Only the dagger-key remained. When he reached for the old rusty key and held it in his hand, it started to shine as if it were new again, but then it turned to sand and slipped between his fingers.

  He opened his eyes to find himself resting on Washburrn’s shoulder. He reached for Washburrn’s leather water pouch, took a drink, and then splashed water on his face to wake up. I must have dozed off myself. He nudged Washburrn’s arm. “Wake up.” He handed Washburrn his water pouch. “The sun’s starting to rise.”

  Washburrn stretched, sat up, took a drink, and wiped the sleep from his eyes.

  “I had another strange dream,” Kyhawn explained as they threw a few leaves over the freshly covered hole to make it appear as though no one had been there.

  Washburrn reached into his cloak for some dried spider legs, handing one to Kyhawn. “Eat this—it will give you some energy.” He then picked up a large branch.

  As they made their way back to camp, Washburrn dragged the large branch over their footprints, then tossed it into the trees and patted Kyhawn’s shoulders. “That should keep the chest concealed until another ship sights our bonfire.”

  While on their way to the clearing, Kyhawn told Washburrn his entire dream. The older Zac nodded. “That’s some dream. I couldn’t tell you what it means, but if Emaya were here, she’d be able to interpret it.”

  Kyhawn shrugged. “If only I had listened to her.”

  When Washburrn and Kyhawn stopped at the bonfire on their way to camp, Treb, Bekim, and another passenger, Selton, who were on bonfire duty, told them that no survivors or bodies had been recovered from the Mothcuh disaster. Washburrn and Kyhawn briefly visited with them, then went down the hillside onto white sand beach. Kyhawn knelt next to a pile of sand where they’d constructed a sandcastle the night before. He looked disappointed as he ran his fingers through it. Washburrn placed his hand on his shoulder. “Let’s head to camp. Darhcir is sure to have something cooking over the fire.”