He spun full circle, but there was no one there.
‘Who calls to me, for I cannot see you?’ he shouted. The sky suddenly darkened overhead and thunderclouds formed.
A wild wind blew in from the south-east. Then the bullying voice called to him again from above. ‘I will only ask once more. What is your business here on this sacred ground?’
Dopiaza jumped back a foot, fear and fury bubbling inside him. He stood stock-still, trying to steady his jangling nerves. There was a jumble of formless voices in the air which asked, ‘– Is it a blue-blood?’
‘– Hardly…’
‘– Well then what?’
‘– A gargolen or gargoyle?'
‘– No. A dwarf!’
Peering about anxiously, Dopiaza took a deep breath. ‘I will not state my cause or case, until I see and recognise your face. So show yourself that I may be, at ease with whom-so-ever speaks to me,’ he shouted into the darkness, disguising his fear.
The sky grew darker still. Storm clouds hovered over him, forming into a thousand ghostly faces with unearthly voices that whispered in his ears. ‘Kill it, whatever it is...’
There was silence for a moment. Then another voice called out to him. ‘Know you this. I am Morpheus, keeper of the dead, and I will protect and preserve the integrity of all those who sleep the eternal sleep within the towering tomb which stands before you.’
There was a flash of brilliant light. Then a deafening thunderclap which tore the clouds apart. Dopiaza was blown from his feet, leaving his sandals in the sand.. He landed on his back with the air punched from his lungs. His eyes rolled back in their sockets like loose marbles and sank further into his skull. Shaking his head he tried to rid his mind of the dizziness swamping him as more unearthly voices whispered constantly in his ears. 'Kill it. Kill it. Kill it now!'
He shook his head again and sat upright, watching trailers of mist form into a vortex. It plunged into the sand in front of him, creating a shock wave like a great wall of tidal water that carried him along with it for quite some distance before dropping him. And when the sand finally settled, he was laid on his back, gasping for air.
Then something began to shape itself in the sand beside him. ‘Morpheus’ the thing wailed, moulding itself as billions of grains of sand seemed to drift together, rising higher into the air with each passing second.
Dopiaza's blood froze. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. But little by little the thing grew taller and taller, until another giant loomed in front of him, casting a long shadow over him. It was two hundred feet tall, made entirely of sand, and had shaped itself into a gruesome, grizzly looking creature with long pointed ears, a sharp narrow nose and dead eyes.
‘For the third and final time, what is your business here on this sacred ground?’ Morpheus asked with a voice like a thunder clap. ‘You must answer me now, truthfully, or I will dispatch you forthwith to a hellish place from which there is no return.’
Dopiaza climbed back to his feet, looking shaken and shocked. He studied Morpheus for a moment. Then he asked. ‘Am I to be threatened by everyone and everything standing taller than I? I am Dopiaza the hero-warrior and am here upon a quest, and refuse to be bullied by an oversized sand pest. However, I will answer this one question truthfully, so that I may be on my way, I am here upon a mission and it grows late within the day. I am neither a thief, nor a grave robber, and mean to steal nothing from the dead, may all their souls rest peacefully wherever they lay their head. Simply put, I seek the answer to all riddles, search for knowledge beyond compare; must know the mysteries of the universe; want to find out Why and How and Where? But more than that – I want to be very tall, outrageously rich, adored by beautiful women and admired by all. Now, that’s not too much to ask… is it?’ he said.
From nowhere a voluptuous, drowning, mocking laughter echoed over the dunes, and it was so loud that Dopiaza had to cover his ears with his hands. When the laughter stopped he seemed frozen, his hands hovering around his ears just in case it began again.
‘If you’re not a grave robber or a thief, what purpose in life do you have?’ asked Morpheus.
Dopiaza cocked his to one side, looking thoughtful. 'I want to outsmart a warrior who’s much bigger than me, has huge rocks for muscles, but the mind of a flea. I want to be tall, handsome and bold, not small, ugly and old – and most of all, I wish to succeed in my Quest.’
Morpheus laughed mockingly again. 'You are an amusing little creature! However, my many brothers say I must kill you, just in case you are a grave robber and a liar.'
Dopiaza looked shocked. 'I'm a dwarf with a good heart, an untarnished reputation, and I'm no liar,' he said defensively, 'so what possible purpose would it serve to kill me?'
The other smiled. 'No purpose! But I can do anything I want, when I want. Eat you I will!’
Dopiaza sniffed and shrugged. 'Anything?' he asked.
'Anything!' said Morpheus.
A brilliant idea suddenly occurred to the Dopiaza. ‘If you can do anything, let me see you make yourself small enough to fit into this?’ he asked, producing a bottle from inside his knapsack.
Morpheus stared at it. ‘Actually, if I wanted to squeeze into that object, I could. But why should I?’
‘To prove that it can be done. Because I don’t believe it's possible without seeing it happen,’ said Dopiaza.
Morpheus glared angrily. ‘I should crush you to a pulp right now for your insolence,’ he scolded.
‘I know you could crush me if you wanted to. But what I don’t know is, whether you could squeeze into this?’ said Dopiaza shaking the bottle. ‘You were the one who said you could do anything.’
‘You dare doubt me?’ flared Morpheus, his shadow blotting out the sun.
‘I dare. Because you would rather kill and eat me rather than prove your point. That makes me believe that you are a schemer and a liar,' said Dopiaza.
Morpheus' face was twisted and pinched with anger. 'A schemer and liar? Then watch and believe!’ he snapped. Then without another word, he began to rain sand down into the bottle. And within moments he had filtered through the bottleneck, filling it. He'd shrunk from his giant size right down to being no more than six inches tall in seconds. Dopiaza stared at him through the green glass and began to laugh madly. He swiftly corked the bottle. Morpheus looked shocked. He couldn’t believe that he had been outsmarted and trapped so easily – by nothing bigger or smarter than a dwarf.
‘Here's a riddle for you to ponder upon for all time,’ announced Dopiaza smiling smugly. He placed the bottle down into the sand. ‘What gets bigger and bigger the more you take away from it?’ he asked. Then he turned, striding purposefully towards the tower and began to climb its colossal stones. And as he climbed he could hear Morpheus shouting. ‘Let me out! Set me free! The answer is a hole!’
Dopiaza looked back over his shoulder, eyes fever bright. ‘That’s right. And now you’re in one,’ he laughed, climbing with all speed. 'Next time think... before you act!'
At the top of the tower he entered a small cut-out and found himself in complete darkness, having to inch himself along a narrow passageway, only slightly wider than his own body. Eerily he could hear the faint echoes of ghostly screams and voices chanting.
‘Oh great man-gods, what awaits me in here?’ he whispered. ‘For once again I go where angels fear to tread, to outsmart a hulky oaf with a mighty big head.’ Stubbing his toe on something, he hopped around in the gloom holding his foot. 'Ouch! What the –?' The voices and screams grew louder. He backed away. Then he slipped and stumbled against the rock wall, striking his head hard, dizzying him. He fell to the ground. A stone panel beneath him slid sideways into the wall. He began to fall.
‘Dieeeeeing,’ he screamed, falling through the darkness. However, something quite spongy broke his fall. ‘Uh,’ he sighed. ‘That was fortunate. A soft landing.’
A single heartbeat later, the world fell from under him again. He plunged into a brightly lit chamber
and crashed into a sarcophagus, landing with such force that it punched the air from his lungs. His beady eyes rolled back in his head, dizziness swamping him again.
He lay for some time amongst the dust and debris, staring up at the hole he'd fallen through. ‘Why am I still alive? I must have fallen seventy feet. I suppose I have you to thank, but what a way to meet. Your skeleton broke my fall, my friend, and I thank you for doing your best. But I’ll now remove my living bones and let your old bones rest,’ he said, staring at the corpse he'd crashed into.
Coming to his senses, he quickly climbed out of the shattered bones and nearly jumped out of his skin when a ghostly voice echoed in his ear. Startled he swung around, yanking his sword from its scabbard in readiness for action. ‘Who… who’s there?’ he snapped, pointing his sword at another skeleton, slumped in a cobweb covered throne. Then he realised his good fortune. A Firestar the size of an apple was in the skeleton's hand. His eyes widened, awed by its size. Suddenly, a voice from behind startled him again and he swung round. ‘Who’s there?’ he asked in a husky whisper, watching a newcomer materialise right before his eyes.
The stranger smiled crookedly. ‘I am the guardian of the Firestar you seek. But only for the duration of the Quest.’ He was dressed in brightly coloured attire with an array of beautiful sashes and jewellery, which left him looking like a fragmented rainbow. He appeared ghostlike within a swirling haze – an apparition with a mop of curling hair hanging down over small ears with wisps of it mingling with brows of the same colour and kind. A large medallion dangled from a chain about his throat, which he stroked proudly. 'You may take the sacred Firestar and go. However, before you leave with it, you must remove that ridiculous mask you're wearing and let me see your face,’ he said.
Dopiaza's face hardened, his feelings hurt. 'I'm not wearing a mask. This is my face,' he announced. At which point a block of granite fell upon him with a sickening thud.
'Only a mother could love something that ugly,' said the stranger shaking his head. He watched blood ooze from beneath the mammoth stone, staining the floor crimson. Heartbeats later, as the dust of many centuries began to settle, he shrugged. ‘Surely even the man-gods themselves cannot resurrect you from such a death, Dopiaza.’ He smiled wickedly, walking off into the shadows, laughing mirthlessly. Turning once more, he glanced back at the granite block. ‘For if they can, my name is not Koki the Evil One,’ he said fading away. Then he was gone.
Chapter 9
Vinn returned to the surface of the Terranean Sea from his deep dive with his eyes bulging in their sockets. His lungs were almost bursting. The sun had set, leaving an orangey, red hue stretching from horizon to horizon across the sky and ocean.
Star-pearl diving was a very profitable business all around the Negean and Terranean Seas, although it did have its share of dangers. Vinn however, accepted those dangers as a calculated risk, when set against the vast amounts of Golden Starpieces he could earn as a diver. He loved the adventure and the danger and was obsessed with travelling the oceans of his globe.
As a diver he had earned vast amounts of money, and similarly had spent vast amounts, mostly on strong drink and females. But then, what was money for if you didn’t plan on spending it wildly? That was his way of thinking.
Yesterday he made his way through a dark, dangerous forest, pretending not to hear the sounds of vicious snarling and snapping jaws and teeth all around him until he had reached the Port of Nabon and the shores of the Terranean. Now he just couldn't resist a swim. This was a big mistake, for whilst diving for Starpearls he had encountered many strange and wonderful creatures, but none stranger or more deadly than the gigantic eel that had just attacked him.
Panic gripped him like a vice as he took two or three deep breaths. He bobbed his head beneath the waves, scanning the surrounding sea, trying to locate the eel. In his earlier days he had wrestled a twenty-foot alligator and killed it with his bare hands. He had also fought off the attack of a seventeen foot shark with nothing more than a piece of driftwood, jammed between its gaping jaws as it tried to bite off his head. A giant squid-fish had also met its untimely demise while trying to squeeze him to death. But the eel was an awesome, ugly thing. It was fifty feet long with row upon row of razor sharp teeth, and could paralyse or kill its prey with a single discharge of electron energy strong enough to boil water. With his head beneath the waves he tried to make sure he wouldn’t be taken by surprise. It was then a long dark shape began to circle beneath him, at a distance not too far away.
He was trying to stay calm. But he knew if the eel attacked again, he couldn’t defend himself. There wouldn’t be time to swim ashore either. It was too far away. He knew his only chance of survival was to dive to the seabed. Once there, he could hide for a few minutes within the dancing seaweed, making his escape while the fearsome predator searched for him. Suddenly, to his horror the eel stopped circling. It came at him with incredible speed. He raised his head from the water. Taking three deep gulps of air he filled his lungs. Then he dived, reaching the seabed within seconds.
Urgently pulling his knife from its sheath, holding it at the ready, he blinked nervously. He blinked again, hiding within the seaweed. Then an electron discharge sent every muscle in his body into spasm. Even underwater his screams were dreadful, his pain intense.
Suddenly, his eyes locked on the eel. It was very close. He watched anxiously as the surrounding fish became paralysed prey, swallowed whole in a feeding frenzy by a grotesque mouth. Gradually he began to lose consciousness. But almost as suddenly as the muscle spasms and pain had started, it stopped. The dizziness swamping his mind cleared. It took only moments to recover. And when he had, he realised he was running out of time.
Now his chest felt like it was in a vice. My lungs are going to burst, he thought. Yet if I try to get to the surface again while the eel is close, the odds that I'm going to die are high.
Now that he was thinking clearly he recalled a conversation with a Sarronian fisherman some months earlier. He had told him that when handling new-born eels, he would wrap his hands in seaweed. It acted as a barrier against the electron discharge. He swam into the seaweed and spun around, covering himself. Then he cut himself free of the seabed and began to rise slowly towards the surface daylight.
Within moments he had risen to the halfway point and seen nothing of the eel. Then to his horror, he spotted it coming his way, mouth agape. I’m going to die, he thought.
Instantly, he was seized in vice like jaws and shook violently. There was nothing he could do to stop the eel. He began to lose consciousness as it rose from the dark depths trying to get a better grip on him. As they broke the surface the eel thrashed wildly.
In that single moment, it had made the biggest mistake of its entire life. A giant two-headed bird swooped down and plucked them from the sea. And realising its own dire dilemma it spat Vinn from its spiny teeth and proceeded to fight back against the winged behemoth. However, the bird would have none of it. Holding the eel firmly between its deadly talons it flew off, smashing the head of the eel onto nearby mountains as it went.
Vinn by this time had hit the water hard and the impact shocked him back to consciousness. Gasping for air he looked skyward in disbelief, realising his own miraculous escape from oblivion. He watched the bird beat and bite the eel to death. Poetic justice, he thought, wanting to cheer the bird on. He didn’t have the strength to do so.
Now he floated on his back for some time. The warm sun shone down on him, a light breeze was blowing and the whole sea a-sparkle with movement and light . He watched scavenging nasgulls skimming the wave-tops searching for food. With the threat of the monstrous eel gone he relaxed, paddling away gently with his bare hands, until the moment when he was overtaken by an unquenchable thirst and raging hunger.
Realising that it had been two full days since he had eaten his last good meal, or indeed consumed a drink of any kind, he quickly swam hard towards the beach. Within minutes was wading ashore, tired and somew
hat dazed by the day’s events, but thinking how lucky he had been not to become a meal for the eel. ‘Anyway, it’s of no consequence now,’ he said stumbling up the beach towards palms swaying in the breeze. He marched on past a derelict landing stage and a rock the size of a house. Completely exhausted, he collected his clothes from where he had left them and dressed quickly. Then he lay on sand and fell fast sleep.
*
With the coming of dawn the next day came fresh pangs of hunger. He had awoken to find the sea lapping at his feet as the tide rolled in. Time to be on my way, he thought, watching the suns red fingers spreading across the land, accompanied by a warm whispering wind. ‘Must find somewhere to eat,’ he said to himself, rolling to his knees. He hauled himself upright and marched purposefully off in the direction of the harbour lighthouse and out into the main street through two rusted iron gates. Six fresh corpses were hanging from a gibbet with a single sign proclaiming the word: THIEVE’S. Several females stood weeping in front of them.
He made his way through the city in search of food, and just as he was entering the inner city limits the Oracles voice drifted into his head. ‘Your time has come,’ he announced simply.
‘I’ll find a place to eat and drink first and then take up the quest tomorrow,’ he confided to a passing toad, which hopped on its way none the wiser. Only moments later he was pushing open an oaken door that creaked and squeaked noisily on rusted hinges. He peered around it and stepped inside.
On entering, there wasn’t a soul to be seen. His eyes widened to encompass the untidy room. He noted the broken windows, shattered shelves and benches and chairs that had been overturned. In fact, the whole place was a mess except for one lone table and stool, which seemed miraculously untouched. Then he noticed the most wonderful aroma wafting from somewhere not too far away.
The Blackhawks Impossible Quest Page 10