Junkland (The Hoarding Book 1)

by Patrick Johns

  “You have great taste in shopping, I see,” the boy leaned over to look at the blue pendant.

  “It just reminded me of…” she was silent for a second, her eyes lost in the blue as images of her mother flooded her mind. She jerked her head back up to face the boy. “I didn’t mean to steal. I’m going to return this right now.” She snapped her hand shut, placing the necklace into the pocket of her dress. She turned to walk back towards the main road—wherever that was.

  The boy grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  “And why shouldn’t I? Who are you to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do?” she barked at him, shaking her wrist free.

  “Hugo has a hard time listening to people. And if I’m not mistaken, I think you’d be down an arm right now if it weren’t for me.” The boy gave her a sly smile.

  “Fair enough. Thank you for saving me, but I really must be getting back now. My father needs me.” She turned away, still not sure where she was supposed to go.

  “Wait—”

  Alana impatiently turned back around. “What?”

  “One drink,” it was all the boy said.

  “Why should I get a drink with a boy I don’t even know?”

  “Because I saved you and you want to reward my brave heart.” The boy gently took her hand as if she would run away at any second. “One drink, and I can show you a side of Palor you’ve never seen before.”

  Alana stared into the boy’s trusting eyes. She liked him, but she knew she must be getting back; it was late, and they would soon discover she was missing. But isn’t this what I left Astenpoole for? For adventure?

  Alana let out a long exhale. “Okay…one drink,” she held up a serious finger, “and then I must be getting back.”

  Chapter 8

  Alana

  AFTER TRAVELING BACK to the main road, Alana and the boy walked towards the castle. The sun was completely gone now and people were stumbling all over the streets. Music still echoed in the night air as people laughed and told stories.

  “You’re going to love this place,” the boy said to her.

  They stopped in front of an old inn that looked like it was about to collapse at any second. People were stumbling in and out of the door. The sign at the front was swinging lightly with the gentle breeze. The sign read: The Arcalane.

  They walked inside. The volume increased dramatically. People were yelling, screaming, shouting, arguing, and singing all at once. Mugs were swinging in the air, spilling drinks on people’s heads. The room smelled like ale, with a faint haze of smoke. People constantly walked up and down the stairs on the right side of the bar, coming and going from their rooms. The bar ran almost the entire length of the room. The opening to the left led to a back room around the corner. Two pillars sat in the center that ran up to the ceiling. The high tables and chairs that surrounded them were filled with people laughing over their drinks. A dozen booths lined the windows, and a huge stage sat against the left wall. The band was in the middle of a song that Alana did not recognize. People were dancing, twirling, spinning, and jumping all around the stage.

  How does all this fit inside this tiny inn? She thought to herself.

  “Come on. Let me grab you that drink,” the boy smiled at her, taking her hand as he dragged her through the crowd to the bar.

  “Two of your finest ales, Havrick,” the boy said to the man with the crooked nose behind the bar.

  “Of course, my friend! How’s your father doing?”

  “He’s closing up shop now. We had a lot of business today.”

  “Ah, that’s good to hear,” the man named Havrick said, as he slid the boy the two mugs.

  “That’d be ten pooles.”

  The boy handed the bartender ten coins and turned, handing Alana her drink. She stared at the mysterious drink in her hands; she had never tried alcohol before. They told her it wasn’t lady-like at the castle—that it was for dried up women who had nothing better to do but drink their sorrows away.

  “Cheers!” the boy clacked his mug against hers, a bit spilling over onto her fingers. The boy took a sip. Alana followed.

  She couldn’t help but gag. It was terrible. The most bitter tasting drink she had ever had. Why do people like this? she wondered.

  The boy laughed.

  “Never had ale before?” the boy asked, trying to sound polite, but Alana knew he was mocking her.

  Alana shook her head while cringing her nose.

  “The first sip is always the worst. The second sip will be better…I promise.” The boy took a second sip from his mug, spilling it yet again, almost all over her new dress, but it only splattered the floor.

  “I still don’t know your name?” Alana asked curiously, shaking the ale off her fingers.

  “My name is—”

  “O’Jahrys!” a giant man with a huge mustache and thinning hair slapped a hand on the boy’s back.

  Alana noticed the boy grimace and turn the color of a tomato at the sound of his name. I don’t blame him. It’s such a funny name.

  “I see your father didn’t punish you too hard tonight?” The large man placed two hands on his belly and chuckled.

  “Trust me, Willem,” said Jahrys. “I’m just as shocked as you are.”

  The man named Willem turned to Alana, eyeing her with his large eyes as he ran a thumb and index finger through his mustache. “And who is this fine lady you got here, O’Jahrys?”

  “Willem, this is Lily. Willem is the innkeeper and owner of The Arcalane,” the boy said.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Alana extended her hand in greeting.

  “No my lady, the pleasure is mine,” he bent down to kiss her hand.

  Alana blushed.

  “She’s a beauty, O’Jahrys. Don’t screw it up,” he gave the boy a playful nudge. The boy turned red again.

  “How’s Kevrin? Is he around?” the boy asked.

  “Ah. He ran off when he woke up. Didn’t say much either.” Willem turned to the crowd and pointed to a Kalukian girl talking to a group of people around a high table. “His lady friend is over there, though. Maybe she’ll tell you more.” The large man turned to Alana. “It was a pleasure meeting you, my lady. This here boy is a good lad. He’ll treat ya well!” Willem left them alone, chuckling to himself as he walked away.

  “O’Jahrys?” Alana giggled.

  She watched as his face reddened.

  “Yea, yea. Get it out of your system.”

  “Do you have a nickname…O’Jahrys,” she put a hand up to her mouth to try and stop her giggles.

  “Jahrys.” He smiled at her.

  “Okay…Jahrys. Besides spilling more ale all over me, what are we to do?” she asked, looking around the crowded room.

  “Come on. I’ll introduce you to some more people.” Jahrys grabbed her hand again and dragged her towards the tables in the center.

  “Jahrys!” the Kalukain girl smiled at him as they approached her table. Her hair was darker than the night sky, and her skin and eyes were only a shade lighter. She was beautiful.

  “Lily…this is Elyara M’ava,” Jahrys introduced them.

  “Nice to meet you, Lily,” Elyara said in her thick Kalukian accent, leaning over to kiss Alana on both her cheeks. Alana blushed; she wasn’t used to the Kalukian culture.

  “I like your dress. That must have cost a fortune. Are you from the Manor?” asked Elyara.

  “Yes…my parents own a house on Ocean Lake,” she lied.

  “Ah! I had a feeling you were from High Point. You Sibleman wear fancier clothes than people inside the castle,” Elyara said, feeling a piece of fabric from Alana’s dress.

  Alana didn’t know if she should feel insulted or complimented.

  “Are the stories true about the sea monster?” Jahrys asked Alana curiously.

  “Sea monster?”

  Jahrys’s eyes lit up. “You’re telling me you live by Ocean Lake and you haven’t heard the stories about the
Octa Monster?”

  Alana shook her head, she regretted asking.

  Jahrys couldn’t believe it. “Would you like to tell it, Elyara?”

  Elyara took a sip from her mug and began, “The Octa Monster is believed to be left over from the First Age, back before this land was known as Astenpoole, even further back, before it was known as Kaluk. The land below the Western Mountains, from Danor to the southern tip of Kaluk, from Palor, to the edge of High Point, was all covered by the ocean. It was an age where sea monsters were the kings of the world.

  “As time sped forward, the water level began to lower, and land sprouted below the Western Mountains. The Kalukians eventually populated the newly forested land and the water was pushed back to what we now call the Farrest Sea. However, a small part of the ancient sea never left this land. Ocean Lake is the last remaining body of water from the ancient times, filled with salt water—a small ocean.

  “Sailors and fishermen have told stories of sighting a sea monster that has survived all these years and lives in the deep waters of the lake. A sea monster with tentacles that rise above the waters, wrapping around whatever it can grasp onto, and taking it down to the deep depths of the watery abyss. There have been so many sightings of this monster with eight tentacles that they gave it the name, the Octa Monster.”

  Elyara leaned her head back, taking a large sip from her mug, and slammed it down hard on the table.

  “That’s quite a story.” Alana was shocked she had never heard it before. “I’ve never seen the Octa Monster, though.”

  “Keep your eyes peeled. The world’s full of little secrets. What brought you to Palor anyway? The festivities?”

  “My father…is…ill,” she was struggling to come up with a quick lie.

  “Ill?” Jahrys repeated, concerned.

  Alana quickly came up with a story. “Yes. He’s ill and I’ve heard Palor has an herb called Iliken.”

  “Ah. Yes. The herb that helped cure The Sickness. That’s sure to clear him up,” Elyara assured her.

  “You’re Kalukian?” It was the first thing Alana could think to say. She needed to change the subject from herself.

  “From head to toe,” Elyara giggled. “I like her Jahrys. Don’t mess it up.”

  Jahrys’s face reddened yet again.

  “Have you heard from Kevrin at all?” Jahrys asked Elyara.

  “Not a word. I heard what happened earlier, though. That doesn’t sound like my Kevrin.” The serving girl brought over new mugs for the table. Elyara grabbed her new mug and took a large gulp.

  Alana was barely on her second sip of her first mug. She followed Elyara and brought the mug up to her mouth. Jahrys was right. The second sip tingled her lips and made her feel warm inside, much better than the first.

  “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow,” Jahrys sighed, looking worried about this friend, Kevrin.

  Elyara leaned over the table towards Alana. “You need to see these two together, Lily. Kevrin and Jahrys look so alike!” Elyara giggled, keeping her voice low.

  “That is not true.” Jahrys overheard her and stepped in. “Kevrin has black hair and I have brown. I would also say that I’m more handsome.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” Elyara teased him.

  “Jahrys!” a pale boy at the table spun around to face them. The rest of the people at the table turned around, too. They had been preoccupied with the band. “Who’s your lady friend?”

  All eyes were on Alana. She tried her best not to look nervous.

  “Everybody, this is Lily Bellsworth. Lily, this is Tarl Frast, Gabe Glumberman, and Kat Laver.” Jahrys pointed, matching the name with the person.

  They all greeted Alana kindly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. Everyone is so nice here.”

  “That’s Palor for you!” they all said in unison and laughed.

  Alana giggled and took another sip from her mug.

  “Have you managed to steal a case of wine from your father yet?” the boy named Gabe asked Jahrys from across the table. He was slightly overweight. His skin was as white as the inside of a coconut. Judging by his slight accent, Lily guessed he was Danorian.

  “I don’t think it’s going to happen any time soon,” Jahrys said.

  “By the palms of Zalus.” Gabe banged his hand against the table playfully. “You’re disappointing me, O’Jahrys. The things I’d do for Grent Wine.”

  Jahrys gave Gabe an evil stare.

  Grent Wine…where have I heard that name before? Alana thought. Suddenly, it came to her. From Father! “Are you the son of Alvys Grent? The famous winemaker?” she asked curiouisly.

  “Ha! You hear that Jahrys? Your father is famous!” Tarl laughed. He had a slight Kalukian accent, but his skin was a much lighter shade than Elyara’s.

  Jahrys ignored him. “Yes, he’s my father.” He tried not to sound too proud.

  “My father, K—” she stopped before she gave herself away “—Kane, loves your father’s wine! It’s all he talks about.” Alana laughed, feeling her head start to spin as she took another sip. “Out of all the boys to save me…”

  “Save you?” Kat chimed in. She placed a hand on Jahrys’s chest as if he was on display. “Jahrys can barely save himself from getting into trouble with his father.”

  The table chuckled.

  “Who told you about today?” Jahrys asked, annoyed.

  “Word spreads quickly around The Arcalane,” Kat said. “You should know that already.” She gave Jahrys a flirty smile.

  Alana felt a small bite of jealousy.

  Alana stood up straight and let the ale do the talking—she had almost finished her mug, and she could feel the change in her. “Jahrys saved me all right. I was accused of stealing a necklace from a man called Hugo—”

  She was interrupted by a sound of disgust from around the table. Apparently Hugo was unliked all around.

  Alana pulled out the necklace from her pocket to show everyone. The blue pendant glimmered in the light. Every eye around the table stared at it in wonder.

  “I’ve never seen a gemstone like that before,” Elyara admitted. “It’s beautiful! The color is so unique, as well as the shape of the stone. It’s so…moon-like.”

  “How did he save you?” Gabe interrupted, anxiously leaning on the table with his elbows.

  Lily pulled the necklace away from the curious eyes and slid it back into her pocket before she continued. “I was only looking at the necklace when Hugo slammed my arm onto the table and took out a blade. He was about to cut my arm off when Jahrys saved me! He distracted Hugo, and swept me away. Hugo and his men chased us down a maze of paths, but eventually we lost Hugo and his men. Jahrys is a real hero. I think he would make a fine Knight of the Poolesguard!”

  Alana watched as Jahrys’s face lit up at the sound of that. He smiled at her, and she felt the blood begin to rush through her body as she smiled back.

  “Wow! Is that all true, Jahrys?” Gabe asked, in awe.

  Jahrys puffed up his chest. “It sure is.”

  “To Jahrys!” Elyara lifted her mug in the air. “A real knight of Palor.”

  Alana followed everyone and lifted her mug. “To Jahrys!” they all yelled, clanking their mugs together.

  “A real knight of Palor?” a deep voice broke their laughter. “You aren’t talking about Jahrhead over here, are you? He can’t even use a sword correctly.” A tall boy placed his hand firmly on Jahrys’s shoulder. Two boys, one skinny, the other fat, were laughing up a storm behind him.

  “Piss off, Rallick.” Jahrys threw Rallick’s hand off his shoulder.

  “Oh come on, it wasn’t that hard of a punch, now was it?” Rallick teased.

  “It left my eye black for a whole week,” Jahrys said, irritated.

  Alana looked closely and did notice the fading yellow bruise around Jahrys’s left eye.

  “Leave him alone, Rallick. Go play with Stade and Taygar,” Elyara said.

  “Go back to the forest, you damn forester!” Sta
de cursed at her.

  Elyara grabbed his hand and twisted it behind his back as she jumped to her feet. “What did you call me?”

  “Hargh!” Taygar yelled behind them in fear.

  “You heard me.” Stade panted the words as his face turned red, his wrist twisting even more.

  “Let him go!” Rallick stepped forward, but Jahrys blocked the way. “You really want to do this again, Jahrhead? Remember what happened last time?”

  “What’s going on here?” Innkeeper Willem marched up to the table. “I’ll have no fighting in my inn. We are celebrating the welcoming of our new queen. Elyara, release Stade.”

  Elyara groaned and threw Stade’s hand away.

  “And you, Rallick. Back away from my boy. If you lay one finger on him…you will answer to me,” Willem threatened.

  “Watch yourself, Jahrhead,” Rallick said as he walked away with Stade and Taygar.

  The tension broke and they all joined back at the table, enjoying their drinks. Alana smiled as she finished her mug. It doesn’t taste so bad after all…

  She turned to Jahrys and smiled.

  He smiled back, leaning over to talk to her. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  Alana gave him a flirty nod. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You have interesting friends,” she laughed.

  “I can’t disagree with you there,” he chuckled. His mood suddenly changed. “I wish you could’ve met Kevrin. You would have liked him.”

  “I bet I would have,” she assured him.

  “How’s everyone doing out there?” The singer of the band shouted out to the crowd. He was answered with a drunken roar of applause. “So, to get the night going and to honor our new queen, Nadia Poole, we are going to play an old classic.”

  “‘Drunken Day at The Arcalane’!” A drunk man yelled out somewhere from the front. “Com’ on, Felix!”

  The singer, a Sibleman named Felix, laughed. “Someone get that guy another drink. ‘Drunken Day at The Arcalane’ it is!” Felix turned to his band. “Ready, boys? Start it up!” he threw his hands into the air.

  The horns blasted, the strings echoed off the walls, and the drums shook the tables as the band began to play the song.