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Aldo's Fantastical Movie Palace

Page 13

by Jonathan Friesen


  Nob’s face lit up. “If I had my pole I could steer — I knew I shouldn’t have left that in the mountain. As it is we’d end up smashed —”

  Shuff!

  His pole stabbed the peak and quivered like an arrow. Nob puzzled at the sky a moment, then grabbed the wood and muscled it out of the snow. He shoved Chloe and the raft a few yards forward.

  “Everyone on the mountain ferry.”

  Scout and Groundspeaker joined them. They all turned toward Zophira.

  “No,” she said. “There is no chance.”

  Nob gazed downward. “We could use a little tail-wind, that’s all.”

  “Then you, my young general brother, will need to produce it yourself.”

  “You know I can’t.” Nob swallowed hard.

  “Of course you can’t. That gift wasn’t given you. You were given a water rat’s gift.”

  “Stop.” Scout strode toward the woman. “Younger sister Zophira, stop. There’s no need to beat down on Nob.”

  “Oh, isn’t there?” She stiffened. “Why weren’t you two trapped at council? Wasn’t it the cowardice of Nob? Did he not purposely keep you from reaching the meeting? Or did his knowledge of the rivers suddenly vanish?” She pointed at Nob. “Nothing but a plot to steal my position.”

  “That was long ago!” Scout’s voice strengthened. “Would it have served Retinya well if all three of us had been trapped? You refused Blind Secholit’s rescue. Would you have taken an offer from us?”

  “Yes! But is this a rescue? Forced company with a coward, a know-it-all” — she stared at Chloe — “and a useless child who clearly has forgotten everything she once knew.”

  Chloe’s hand shot up and rubbed her scar.

  “And by the way, how is that leg treating you? Has the limp remained?”

  “Silence!” shouted the dragon.

  Throughout the argument, Chloe’d been watching Pindle, who’d kept his head buried in his wings. But now he fluttered up and landed on Chloe’s shoulders. “I rest on the only wise one among you. Stop it, children … noble children, but children nonetheless. We have only one pursuit, and whatever your family history may be, choose now to lay it aside.”

  Nob peeked up, but nobody else moved.

  “Zophira, are you not able to summon the winds? But you were too weak to escape the mountain.” She raised her hand to speak, but then let her mouth fall shut.

  “Nob, a great seaman, but fearful when you should be brave. And Scout, a leader on land, but prone to self-importance. Remember whose you are. Remember the glory of Old Retinya when you walked a peaceful land. Decide to end this petty squabble.”

  “And get on the raft, before Chloe freezes.”

  The last words were so low, they rumbled the mountain.

  “He speaks again.” Scout smiled.

  “What was that?” Chloe asked.

  “Groundspeaker.” The name thundered again. “For too long this ground has been subject to the enemy.” The thin man bent over, his lips inches from the snow. “It’s time to reclaim THIS GROUND.”

  The mountain shook and Zophira leaped onto Scout. The snow lurched beneath their feet and a crack formed around them.

  “Avalanche!” Nob grabbed the pole. “We need wind, sister!”

  Zophira raised her arm and a strong gust hurtled the raft forward, down the mountain. Chloe looked over her shoulder. The snowcap had broken loose and thundered down behind them.

  “Can you go faster?” Chloe cried.

  Nob dug in his pole and the sled banked sharply to the left. To Chloe, it felt like surfing — they lifted and surged forward while showers of snow curled over their heads.

  The sled popped out of the wave of snow, placing them clear of tumbling snow.

  “Well done, Nob,” Chloe said. “You’re a genius —”

  He pointed at a range of jagged rocks jutting out in front of them. “Now the work begins.” Nob rolled up a sleeve.

  Scout grabbed Chloe from behind, and the small group huddled together on the sled’s middle while Nob stood braced on one side.

  Zophira whispered, “I did not want to die.”

  Scout leaned into her. “Watch your brother.”

  “Yah!” Nob leaped from one edge of the raft to the other, correcting and micro-correcting their path. The sled zipped left and right. Rock formations blurred by with dizzying speed.

  Chloe’s fingers dug into Scout’s arm, but he paid no attention. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. An hour, and still the sled skipped.

  Finally, they slowed. A wash of spray hit Chloe’s face.

  Melting snow!

  As the sled struck a slushy patch, they all tumbled forward and crunched to a halt not one yard from a rocky outcrop twenty feet tall and three times as wide. Nob lifted his pole and with it his gaze. There would have been no way around this boulder.

  Chloe’s hands released Scout. Nob turned, dropped his pole, and collapsed into the slush. Zophira was first to his side.

  “Brave Nob. My brave brother.” She stroked his head. “Quickly, a covering; his body shakes.”

  Groundspeaker offered his, and soon Scout located a dry nook in the rock.

  “It will be a cold, wet night. But look!” He pointed down into the valley. “The Green River. There it is. And to the left, Chloe? That desert means we are nearer. The Safelands.”

  “The Safelands,” Zophira whispered.

  “The Safelands.” Pindle flapped his wings.

  “The Safelands,” Groundspeaker rumbled, and the rock shook.

  “But are they still safe?” Nob whispered and blinked.

  Nobody answered, and Chloe fell into an uneasy sleep.

  Chloe woke up shivering. There would be no falling back to sleep, she knew, and so she quickly rose. Scout, Nob, and Zophira huddled in cloaks laid out on the raft, but Groundspeaker and Pindle had gone. She scrambled up to the top of the rock and peered into the valley, which had been pure darkness the night before.

  “Beautiful.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Chloe startled and knelt down. “Qujan? You found me!” She hugged the Quint, and felt warmth fill her body.

  “Moving between worlds provides no difficulty for a Quint. Convincing Quill that such a move is necessary — this is a challenge. Listen, Chloe, Nick’s book is no longer black. It is gray. This is both good and concerning. It means some life yet remains, but for whatever reason — Quill cannot see — Vaepor suddenly has no need of Nick, no want of him. I do not expect he will survive unless you find him.”

  “I’m doing my best, but everyone tells me different things! Secholit said I’d need him, but now it’s all, ‘Get to the pool.’ To Scout, Nick is always first. You told me to forget him, now I’m supposed to find him?”

  “I know.” Qujan reached over and stroked Chloe’s hair. “Life changes. Horrible things happen.” Qujan then cupped Chloe’s chin. “And then plans change. To be sure, you must reach the pool, but I feel you may find your friend on the way.” She hugged Chloe again. “You don’t know how long I’ve desired to do this.”

  Qujan breathed deeply as she broke the embrace and together she and Chloe stared at the landscape before them. The northern run of the Green River snaked on like a thin ribbon through a sea of brown. Along its banks, trees and bushes grew, creating twenty feet of life on either side. Directly below, in that thin stretch of green, a deer — no, two — bounded through the brush. To the left of the river, all was sand, unending sand.

  There, nothing moved.

  Well, almost nothing.

  A lone figure walked the desert, tracking away from the base of the mountain on which Chloe stood. A giant vulture circled around its head.

  “Why would anyone walk there?” Chloe asked.

  “Because that is where he needs to walk.” Zophira climbed up beside her. “He goes where the ground is foul. He goes to speak against Vaepor, and to turn the ground back to our side.”

  Chloe rose and faced Zophira. She didn’t return th
e glance.

  “That’s Groundspeaker?”

  She nodded.

  “But doesn’t he see the vulture?” Chloe pointed at the circling bird.

  Zophira laughed. “Oh, I doubt Pindle will devour him. Unless, of course, Groundspeaker insults his family.”

  “But I thought —”

  “They would travel with us? They must prepare our path. Without Groundspeaker, the dirt beneath your feet would send word and give us away. Not even Scout could find us safe passage.”

  Chloe slowly lowered herself onto the rock and whispered to Qujan, “Why isn’t she talking to you?”

  Qujan glanced at Zophira. “She cannot see me, or hear me — but she does sense me. I’m sure of this.”

  “What did you say?” asked Zophira.

  Chloe smiled quickly in Zophira’s direction and ducked her head lower. “Then why can I?”

  “That is a question for Salvador.” Qujan smiled. “I could reveal. I could become visible, but then I could not return to the hall. I would forever live above ground.”

  Zophira frowned. “Who do you speak to?”

  “Sorry,” Chloe said. “Active imagination.”

  “Put well,” whispered Qujan.

  “I do not understand what makes you valuable, far more so than any girl I’ve met. Why would Blind Secholit gather three rulers of old to see you on your way?” Zophira stared down at her. “What are you to do?”

  “Say nothing,” said Qujan.

  “Well, he told me to keep what I heard to myself.”

  “Who did?”

  “Secholit … and Nob.”

  “Nob.” Zophira laughed. “You still trust him. Don’t you see his fear?”

  Chloe stood up. “No.”

  Qujan bumped Chloe. “Get out of this conversation, it will not end well. Quickly, ask her how her seven sisters are getting on. Especially Kyrie.”

  “Zophira …” Chloe looked back at the Quint before she continued. “How’s your family doing? Your sisters, all seven of them. I’d especially like to hear about Kyrie.”

  Zophira’s face whitened and she staggered backward.

  “Nobody apart from Secholit himself knows her sisters’ names.” Qujan’s face was stern. “Zophira’s not really Retinyan, though she plays the part. Your knowledge of Kyrie shows her you have power.”

  “Good morning.” Scout popped up between them, and Zophira bristled. “I didn’t know you two were up.” He glanced at Chloe and frowned. “Is everything all right?”

  “Fine, brother. As the … as the … only females in this strange grouping, we were getting better acquainted.” Zophira turned toward Chloe and slowly approached. She hugged her loosely, and Chloe felt her tremble. “I thank you for taking me into your confidence. You can be assured that your secrets are safe with me.” She released Chloe and climbed down the rock.

  “Your siblings’ secrets are safe with me as well,” Chloe called, freezing Zophira, who quickly sprung down off the rock.

  Scout tongued the inside of his cheek. “I’ve not seen her shaken like that before. What did you tell her?”

  “Nothing. I have no idea what —”

  “There are … things I could tell you about my dear sister.” Scout turned away. “She’s not the safest location to deposit hidden thoughts.”

  “Hey.” Chloe tugged at his shirt, but he did not move. “Any teenager could see she just said that to get at you. I didn’t tell her a thing, I promise. Are you angry at me?”

  Scout slumped, glanced over his shoulder, and closed his eyes. “I don’t know what I am. She and I —”

  “Are like royalty. Hello! What’s that about? There’s a little secret you’ve kept from me, right?”

  He nodded and stared down into the valley. “Another time. Did you see Groundspeaker’s path? We’ll want to follow it. Before the winds” — he peeked in the direction Zophira had gone — “from whatever source, blow away any trace.”

  Scout followed his sister, leaving Chloe and Qujan alone.

  “Please, Qujan, come with us. Just for a while. I won’t talk to you in front of anybody.” Chloe grabbed onto her arm. “I’m stuck in a world I thought I would know, but it’s all different.”

  “I need to return before Quill wakes and finds me gone, but I need to make one thing clear. You feel you wrote this world. This is not true. The ideas and pictures you put down were given to you. You and Nick sorted through this glimpse. When you were working on your script, you each threw away the unpleasant and focused on what you felt were the most desirable parts of the land. So although you worked together, you wrote two very different worlds.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “You struggle here because your heart is still in the past, in a time before your scar, when your family held you near. It’s where you live, where you long to be.

  “Because you live looking back, the glimpse you wrote is also in the past — the Retinya of old, where there was joy, where there were happy endings — but your invisible elven kingdoms, the magnificent beautiful cities … The truth is that place only exists in our memories.

  “Nick lives in the near future. He dreams of a time, very soon, when he might be able see in your world again. He dreams of being well. Nick wrote Retinya’s near future, and so he moves through this land with ease.” Qujan forced a smile.

  “But it comes to this: It is time for both of you to live in the present. To finish the task Secholit gave you. Do not run —”

  “I know, don’t run from my father.”

  “No. From yourself. For you, my precious one, are beautiful.”

  Qujan gently kissed Chloe’s head and disappeared.

  Beautiful. Chloe touched her face. Could it be?

  They broke camp and set out, finishing the last section of downward slope in excellent time. To the right, the river bubbled and beckoned, but Scout made straight for the first of Groundspeaker’s footprints that led through the desert.

  I don’t want to be trudging through this wasteland. I want to be near the gentle waves.

  Nob bumped Chloe’s shoulder with his. “Do you remember, lady, where those waters came from?”

  Chloe frowned. “Why does everyone around here know what I’m thinking?”

  “You’ve been staring at the river for a minute, maybe more. That river flowed beneath the mountain,” he continued. “Evil, dark thoughts accompany those waters. They have not changed.”

  She exhaled hard and pushed her hand through matted hair. Oh, for a bath.

  “Okay.” Chloe pried her gaze off the river. “Through the sand.”

  CHAPTER

  22

  THE TINY BAND SET OUT slowly across the dunes. It wasn’t hot; it wasn’t that type of desert. But it was dry. Dry and brown and forever. Despite Nob’s warning, Chloe couldn’t take her eyes off the river and its bank, where fish jumped and rabbits played.

  “What would happen if we left this path?” Chloe asked, her gaze fixed on two squirrels playing tag around a tree.

  Nob glanced around his feet. “I don’t know anymore. There was a time when we ran across these sands. We lured our enemies here and …”

  “Go on,” Zophira called. “Tell her.”

  Nob shook his head, so Zophira continued. “The Sands would do the rest.”

  The sand looked like ordinary sand, not that they had much in Minnesota. Chloe bent over and scooped up a handful, and let it sift out between her fingers. As it filtered down, she had to stifle a gasp. “This is Snake River sand. Dad and I used to build huge sandcastles from this stuff back home.” She leaned forward to pull an armful nearer. “Of course, you need water.” She leaned forward again, stretched too far, and thudded softly on her belly with a laugh.

  “Get up, Chloe!” Nob grabbed her leg, but she kicked free.

  “There’s nothing here to — Oh!”

  Sand shifted beneath her and the firm desert floor gave way. Below was nothing but endless dark. Above, lips — giant, sandy lips — clo
sed over her.

  “Quick!” a voice called from beneath her. “Digest it. It’s been too long.”

  Burning liquid covered Chloe’s ankles.

  “Oh, Nob! Scout! Secholit!”

  Her mountain stone blazed blue, and with its glow the cavernous stomach heaved, the lips opened, and Chloe shot back into daylight, landing hard on a sandy mound.

  Nob bolted toward her, dodging sand mouths that opened and closed on both sides of him.

  Scout shouted, “No, Nob! You’re off the path!”

  “My legs! They’re burning!” Chloe threw her arms around Nob’s neck.

  Nob swept sand over her feet, her calves, and her knees, until soon the burning lessened. “I can’t say there may not be a mark, lady.”

  Chloe closed her eyes. “It’s all right. I’m okay. You came for me.”

  Nob nodded, lifted Chloe, and sped her back to the path, where Scout took her and lay her down.

  “Nobody comes back out of the sand. I thought we’d lost you.” Scout bent over, his brow furrowed. “And you, Nob. Lead and protect, but don’t be foolish, brother. What if you hadn’t reached safety?”

  Zophira smiled. “Then he would be like you, O great designated protector of Nick. Am I not right?”

  Scout’s teeth clenched. “He left on his own accord.”

  “And you did not follow him?”

  “I couldn’t reach … He refused to be followed.”

  Zophira walked on leisurely, following Groundspeaker’s trail. She paused, but did not turn. “You failed, Scout.” Then, calmly, she continued her walk.

  Scout gasped and reached for his stomach. Chloe reached over and squeezed his arm.

  “She’s just —”

  “Correct. This time she is correct.” He rubbed his bad leg. “I was to lead him.”

  Chloe stood and brushed the sand off her legs. “Grandpa Salvador always says you can’t lead a man who won’t follow. Guess that goes for kids too. Especially now that Nick can see.”

  Scout turned toward Chloe slowly. “Yes. Back home, he’s blind. It’s suddenly so clear.” He pulled Chloe forward. “We need to find him.”

  “But didn’t you hear Secholit? I need to reach the pool.”

 

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