The Dagger-Key and The Lost Treasures of Kebadon

by Daniel Ferguson

  * * *

  Washburrn, Dylc, and the others were already two-thirds of the way up the mountain. During this time, Professor Romeous had been telling them his theory about what Werdna and his crew had experienced when they stumbled upon the island. “At first those sea creatures were ghost-like. The closer the fishing boat drew near, the more real the creatures became,” he explained. Most of them nodded as if they were listening. He quickly added by telling them of the ship passing by without noticing them, and why the island had started to disappear the further out they went in the lifeboats. “A circumference zone, we must be in one,” he announced with excitement. “What else could this signify?”

  Everyone looked at him oddly. “What in the heck are you talking about?” Dylc questioned, followed by the others.

  “A circumference zone is a rare phenomenon, and we are indeed in the center of one. The last time this accrued was … over a thousand years ago.” Romeous glanced at Washburrn, Dylc, and Werdna. “Such as what you three caught a glimpse of, and those other lads experienced. Once we sail out far enough, in tied together lifeboats such as Tailk suggested, at some point the island is sure to completely disappear, and a passing ship is sure to see us. From that location on, we can put our fears of those prehistoric sea creatures to rest.”

  All of a sudden a pistol fired. Frightened by the sound, a few birds leaped into the sky from nearby trees. Dylc lay on the wide path in a small puddle of mud. “Help me up. My hip—I think it’s broken.”

  The tension didn’t ease until Washburrn and Romeous gave Dylc a hand and realized all that had happened was that Dylc had slipped and his pistol had gone off accidentally.

  “You scared the wits right out of us, Dylc.” Romeous held his shoulder.

  “I’d say you did. But we’re almost there.” Washburrn held his other shoulder. “Are you sure about your hip?”

  Dylc looked down at himself. “Feel’s like it, but maybe not,” he moaned. “But my uniform’s ripped, and I’ve got a gouge in my leg from the rocks—or that darn tree root crossing the path.”

  “Doesn’t look good,” Washburrn said. “Will you be able to continue? If you go back, you can take one of these Zacs with you, but we need to press on.”

  Dylc played with his mustache for a moment or two, as if undecided. He looked up at the path before them. “I’ll manage.”

  When they finally reached the top, an ancient waterhole awaited them. Beyond the waterhole the city of ruins lay before them. Their images reflected off the waterhole as they passed it and headed for the nearest ruin. The living space was small compared to their standards. Werdna looked around at the large room constructed of stone, and at its decaying wooden roof. For the most part, the doors and windows had long rotted away. But a fireplace stood as a dividing wall supporting the remains of the ceiling. “Reminds me of Earron and Coita’s shack,” Werdna chuckled.

  “We’ll rest here.” Washburrn glanced at Werdna, then looked at Dylc. Though he didn’t agree with him most of the time, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, as despite their differences, he knew Dylc was a decent Zac.

  Dylc nodded as if he cared only about ridding himself of his pain. He reached for his cabac.

  Washburrn looked out a window. What was left of the wooden shutters hung loosely from the stone wall. His mind drifted back and forth from the first time he’d laid eyes on Luxton aboard ship to a time many years’ ago. “I know where I’ve seen Luxton before,” he announced as they settled in. He could see Luxton in his mind’s eye and examine him as he would a famous painting. “I knew I’d seen his face somewhere else. He’s the famous pirate, Captain Nurrblodd. But back then he had shorter hair and whiskers.” He raised an eyebrow and looked delighted. “Well, what do you know—we’ve finally captured the scoundrel!”

  “A famous pirate,” Treb said with a curious look. “Why no wonder that worthless piece of scrap rawhide couldn’t serve a glass of water without spilling any.”

  “I ran into him about ten years ago.” Washburrn’s mind again drifted through time. He set his cabac aside. “He managed to get away back then. And from what I’ve heard, many times after.” He looked angry. “The bloody scoundrel. His slivering mates and he used to kidnap kids and Ooweds and sell them for slaves. They’d use the ones they couldn’t sell quick enough for play toys. After they had their way with them, they’d string them up alive and torture them.”

  Werdna’s eyes widened in fright. “Play toys … and torture …?”

  “While the kids and Ooweds were still alive, they’d let them hang by their feet till death finally became a blessing.” Washburrn quivered in rage. “Afterward they’d eat their rotting flesh.” He slowly shook his head. “It was dreadful … absolutely dreadful.”

  Bekim leaned out an empty window and was sick.

  “Son?” Treb went to him with his water pouch. “Wash your mouth out. Get that nasty taste out.”

  “Thanks Dad. It’s just that …”

  “We know how you feel, Bekim. I’ve seen too much in my days.” Washburrn leaned against the fireplace and started to sharpen his sword. “Dylc, are we going to be able to move on, or do we stay here tonight?”

  Dylc was feeling the effects of some medicine he had taken. “Stay here tonight.” He adjusted his leg while Werdna helped him bandage his wound. “I’m sure my leg will be its old self by morning.”

  Werdna went to the dividing wall. He glanced up passed the ceiling beams at the sky. “We can take turns keeping watch tonight, then begin searching for them at first light.”

  “Bekim and I’ll keep watch over here on the east side.” Treb glanced out the window. “I wonder where Mekon and them other desert lizards could be hiding,” he said as he too started sharpening his sword.