“Please,” Gatnom pleaded, “don’t hurt her.”
The spy said nothing. There was no twitch or move of his eyes, and his expression remained a mystery behind his black mask. All he did was turn, rearrange Wohie in one arm, and begin to fly across the valley.
“No! Please!!!” Gatnom screamed.
A few minutes later, Will and Gatnom watched helplessly as Lord Andrias Shielder, the black spy of King Mel, disappeared with Wohie into the clouds above the Western Sudden Peaks. Jabber came huffing back a little later. He had attempted to follow, but only fell further and further behind. The spy was flying towards the City of Neba, The Silver City…
The City of the King.
Twenty
The Valley and Plains
Will and Gatnom made it to the valley just as the peaks fell violently into the ground. The valley dwellers were waiting to welcome them when they arrived. They had somehow already received a message that some young travelers were on the way and they would need rest. Gatnom had been quiet since Wohie was taken, so quiet Will felt the need to help him talk. Gatnom, however, did not want any help. He just wanted to figure out what to do. He wandered somewhere deep inside himself, swam in regret, explored confusion, and beat his fist on walls of guilt that should never have blocked the path. His sorrow was a cave, and in it he didn’t know which way was up or down.
Will soon gave up trying and decided to try and talk with the inhabitants of the valley. Perhaps he could arrange travel to the city. They had to keep going, now more than ever.
The small village lay quietly in the dip between the Eastern and Western ranges of the Sudden Peaks. But it wasn’t the type of quiet village like you may think. It was quiet because everyone was busy working to build or thinking up one of the many homemade contraptions spread about everywhere. In one place a giant wheel spun around and around, pushed by water from a mountain stream. The turning turned another wheel, that turned another, and another until cold water turned warm. Will couldn’t figure out how it worked, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. He washed his face and hands, then his face again. He hadn’t felt warm water but once since he left home.
“Do you have a shower?” Will asked one of the short village kids following him around. The kids looked at Will and scratched their heads. So, Will explained what a shower was. The group gathered and listened closely. They seemed intrigued at the idea of water falling from above. They mumbled amongst themselves in a slightly different dialect than that of Gatnom and Wohie, then all at once they scurried away excitedly.
“This place is strange, Jab,” said Will.
“It is? It seems kinda familiar to me,” the Butterbug answered.
A few minutes later Jabber flew off to explore the bushes, and a tiny lady, just taller than Will’s waist, approached. She led Will into the cluster of houses and showed him to a room where water flowed through clear pipes to a basin that looked like a porcelain horse trough. It reminded Will of a bathtub, except it was square and not made to sit in. The trough, the walls, and the floors were all made with the same shiny white and blue tile as the tub. The little old lady took one of the small buckets floating in the basin, filled it with water, and dumped it on the floor. Then, she took another bucket full and tossed it on the wall. The message was clear: get everything wet.
After the lady left, Will took a bucket and dumped it over his head. The warmth fell into him, temporarily washing away his worries. Each splash erased another bad memory. It was intoxicating, an escape for the moment, the most powerful simple pleasure he had experienced since his adventure began. By the time he was done, the walls, floor, door, and even the small window for light too high to reach were all drenched. Afterwards Will was shown to a room.
“This room is just for sleep,” the old woman said as she ushered Will inside. In the middle of the room was a bed with a wide canopy (a few feet wider than the bed itself). The canopy’s center was attached to the ceiling and stretched up to a point. The air in the room was much cooler than outside, with just the right amount of warmth mixed in; like a hot fudge sunday, and it was dark enough to be peaceful without being mysterious, like before sunrise. Will followed the lady across a raised trail of flat stones (each raised a half foot or so above the floor) and laid down. He stared up through the thin cloth of the canopy cover. Although there was material between him and the ceiling, it was almost completely transparent. The ceiling was blue black and bumped right into the four navy blue walls. To Will, it felt like he was staring up into the night sky.
“Do you like rain?” the lady asked.
“Yes ma’m,” he said. He was understating; warm rain was one of his most favorite things.
“Good,” she said as she turned to leave the room.
“Ma’am?”
“Yes?”
“Can you check on my friend. He’s really upset.”
“I’ll go check right now. You sleep. You’ve had quite a long journey.” And with those words she shut the door.
Will laid back. His shoulders ached; his fingers were throbbing; and his neck was tight from hard travel. Never had he thought he’d be caught up in such an adventure, although before now he had wished it, back when he had no idea what he was wishing for. Stories like these are only good after there is a happy ending, but this was real life, where happy endings are not promised. Will figured that was why some stories ended sad, to remind us how the sour last pages are just as real as the sweet ones. A drop of water fell from the ceiling and hit the canopy. It ran down the arched cloth and dripped from the side. Then another drop fell, and another, until a steady shower came from the dark ceiling, streaming steadily to the ground, puddling up around the raised stones, soaking everything but Will and his bed. Not one drop leaked through the canopy. Above, through the shower, small lights flickered from somewhere deep in the black ceiling. It did not take long watching the stars and listening to the rain for Will to fall asleep without knowing he had.
The next morning he woke to a light drizzle and Jabber pulling at his earlobe. “Wake up, Mr. Will. We need to go check on Mr. Gatnom.”
As soon as Will slung his feet over the edge of the bed the rain stopped. A few minutes later he found Gatnom admiring a contraption that looked like a giant shiny egg, with a chair hollowed out in the middle.
“What’s this?” Will asked.
Gatnom looked at Will and smiled. His eyes were still tired, but he was rested and ready. The worry remained, but was no longer in control. “It’s a strange bit of magic. Well, the villagers swear it’s not magic at all, but I’m not so sure. I spent the night in it.”
“In that? Doing what?”
“They said it was to help me sort through my thoughts. It works too.”
“How does a big egg help you think?”
Gatnom laughed. “I don’t know. It’s like it creates the perfect air for thinking once you close yourself inside. All night, until I fell asleep, it was like I was hanging my feet over the edge of a giant mountain overlooking the sea, a sea that sung, without any danger of falling.”
“Oh, okay… I guess. So, you doin better?”
“Yes. I am sorry for yesterday.”
“Don’t sweat it man.”
“Sweat? Am I sweating? I’m not hot.”
Will laughed. “No, I mean it’s cool man. I understand.”
“Thank You.” Gatnom stepped closer to Will. “One thing about this machine, it really does help you think. I got an idea last night, then this morning I overheard talk of a convoy heading to the city. There is a secret pass they take, a road cut through an unguarded valley. They once used the trade road, but since a few Amokians found an exit this side of the Eastern Peaks they have been more careful.”
“Do you think they’ll take us?” Will asked.
“I’m not sure. We can try, but I must admit, I don’t know what we will do once when we reach the city. What chance do we have? Did you see him flying as if it were nothing? I’ve never seen a magi fly. And, if he is that power
ful, what about King Mel?” Gatnom dropped his head. “We can not do this alone Will, but we are alone. Wisdom would say to turn back, for you to find your way home, for me to return in shame to Master Jared or catch ship to another Island far from Baru, but inside, I know we must go on.” Gatnom looked as if it hurt to say the words. Will didn’t know what to say. Gatnom didn’t know what to say. So, neither said anything for a minute.
A few minutes later a man, shorter than Will’s shoulders and his wife, shorter than her husband’s shoulders, approached. Will ignored them. He was brooding. He was tired of this roller coaster of hope.
“I don’t care,” Will said, seemingly out of nowhere.
“What?”
“I said, I don’t care. I don’t care if there’s no hope or if I die. There is no one for me to go home to; nobody’s gonna miss me. No one will even care in my world. That King has taken everyone from me.”
“But Will—”
“No Gatnom, listen to me. He has taken the boys and now Wohie too. I’m going. I’m going, and I am going to see this guy face to face. Whatever happens, happens.”
“That’s foolish thinking.”
“I don’t care if it’s foolish! Wohie needs us, Randiby, Jubal, Yoh, Goh, Sloh, and Broh! I’m not going to let them die or worst become slaves. I have—” The short little lady who was a moment before holding on to the arm of the short little man was now reaching up, holding on tight to Will’s collar.
“What did you say?” she asked with a wild look in her eyes.
Will wasn’t sure what was happening. Although this was a short little lady she scared Will like only good mothers can. “I said we must go help our friends.”
“No, no, not that. What were their names?”
“Wohie, Randiby, Jubal, Yoh, Goh, Sloh and Broh.”
The little lady turned to her husband, who was now just as close to Will as his wife. He was white as a paper plate. “Could it be? What did they look like?” The little man asked.
Will tried to remember, but it was difficult with their faces so close to his own. He thought for a moment, then he realized Yoh, the oldest, looked just like the short man who was staring at him, and that Sloh had the same eyes and height as the woman. “They... well, they look like you,” answered Will.
“Are you telling us the truth? Where are they?” the woman asked in one breath.
“What are your names?” Gatnom asked, stepping into the conversation.
“I’m Daveed and this is my wife Sharlin.”
Gatnom cocked his head to the left and held his hat to keep it from falling off. “Yes, yes. I see it now,” Gatnom said as he uncocked his head. “We know your sons. They were friends of ours.”
“What do ya mean, were?” the lady asked with fearful eyes.
Gatnom sighed. “They were taken by Andrias to the city of Neba. They are the friends we are searching for.”
“Lord Andrias of King Neba?” The father of the boys asked.
“Yes. He now serves King Mel.”
“But that is good, yes?” said Sharlin, “King Mel is a good king, right? We can go get our boys back!”
“No, you can’t. King Mel has taken them. Do you not know what has been happening?”
Daveed looked confused, glancing to his wife in mid sentence. “What do you speak of?”
“After the war King Neba gave up his throne to King Mel—”
“Yes, yes we know this,” Sharlin said, waving her hand, a sign to get to the point.
“Since then,” Gatnom continued, “hundreds of families have been slaughtered throughout the forest east of the Sudden Peaks. The raiders wore the emblem of King Mel. They killed the parents and took the children to the city. Yoh, Goh, Sloh, and Broh all thought you were dead.”
“But we thought they were dead,” said Daveed. “They just disappeared one day while they were out playing. We searched for three years. Finally, we came here to try to live in peace. I still search sometimes, but have found no sign of them.”
“You still search for them after all this time?” asked Will.
“Yes. Any good father would, if there was any hint of hope left.”
Gatnom stood more straight than before. “Well if things continue the way they are there will be no peace or hope to live in. Things are getting closer to war. Not only has Andrias taken your sons, but he has taken all of our friends. We are on a quest to rescue them. We are trying to get to the city.”
“Are you sure the King took them? Why would he take our boys?” Sharlin asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve wondered why myself, but all I can think of i he wants to kill any chance of an uprising in the future.”
“Well we must petition the King for their return. We are not a part of this war,” said Sharlin.
“No one dares approach the city. It is not safe. You must understand. We must get to the city to try and find our friends, but there’s no way to get in. The spy knows our faces.”
Daveed and Sharlin looked confused. “We go to the city all the time. We trade there, with no problems.”
“Really?” Gatnom said glancing over at Will. “That could be perfect. If we can somehow go with you, perhaps we won’t be recognized. It is risky though. The last time we got too close to Lord Andrias he almost killed Will.”
“How? What happened?” Daveed asked, looking at Will. Apparently this was his story to tell.
“He caught me and tried to take me to the city. He said the King had sent him for me. I tried to fight, but he is so strong. He knocked all of us out. Then, just before we arrived here, he took Wohie. She fell from the side of the mountain wall, and he caught her in mid-air and flew off.”
The couple stared at Will as if the story was not finished. “Why did he not take you to the city when you were knocked out?”
Jabber, who had been riding on Will’s shoulder quietly perked up. “My bugs and I rescued him. We swarmed the cave until the spy ran away.”
“We need help into the city,” Gatnom interjected, getting back to the point. “The Western peaks are too high, and if we take the road we will be captured.”
Sharlin looked at Daveed and the two talked with her eyes. “I don’t know if the elders will agree,” Daveed said out loud. Sharlin said some louder silent words with a harder look. “Stay here, we will return,” Daveed said, then the two trotted off.
An hour later Daveed and Sharlin returned. Will couldn’t help but smile at the perfect synchronized rhythm their four short legs kept. They seemed hurried and excited. “We have something to tell you,” said Daveed as they stopped. “It’s something I—” Sharlin elbowed him. “—that we overheard.”
“Simply overheard and are simply passing along,” said Sharlin.
“We heard there is a carriage heading to the city,” said Daveed.
“And not on the Trade Road,” said Sharlin.
“If someone, for whatever reason, needed to get to the city they could ride in the wagon,” said Daveed. “Because the wagon driver, who I know personally, probably won’t check inside of the carriage.”
“And, if someone disguised themselves they could drive right in the front gate to the open market of the City,” said Sharlin
“Then they could slip into the heart of the city, if they were careful,” said Daveed.
“The wagon is scheduled to leave in just a few minutes,” said Sharlin.
When they were done Sharlin stepped up to Will and looked him directly in the eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on in the Kingdom, but you be careful and please, please bring my boys back.”
With that, the two turned and trotted off together.
Gatnom and Will grabbed their things and stuffed them into Will’s bag. A few minutes later Sharlin returned with a few baked cakes, a bag full of water, and an un-hulled pod of peas for Jabber (which made him grin from ear to ear). She gave them two brown cloaks with hoods so big they hung over Will and Gatnom’s faces. Once she had led them into the back of the wagon, Sharlin smiled,
winked, and disappeared. A few minutes later the driver took his seat. He was wearing the same kind of cloak and was very careful not to look in the back. There was a rumble, and the wagon, which was propelled by a small engine, began put-putting its way out of the valley. Will, Gatnom, and Jabber sat cross-legged and enjoyed their meal. The cake tasted like bread growing sweet coconut inside of itself, and the water wasn’t water at all, but Minum Manis. Jabber devoured the peas from left to right, like corn on the cob. Within a minute after he had finished he was snoring little butterbug snores with his belly bulging out. He looked like he had swallowed a marble. Will took one of the cakes and put it on the bench besides the driver. When they looked back a few minutes later the cake was gone.
From the back window the path slowly turned spotted and textured with dead leaves, and soon the trees were naked with all their clothes piled up at their feet. From the popping in his ears Will could tell they were climbing much higher into the mountains. The road was cut through the bottom of two rock walls so tall they made Will feel dizzy. The sharp zeniths of the Western Range stood gloating down upon the little wagon, as if saying “We are your masters here.” The peaks looked like the tips of stone spears, stuck butt end into the ground, with their sharpened white tips pointing to the heavens. The farther they got into the mountains the taller the spears, until they pierced the clouds, disappearing deep into their victims. It was a glorious scene. Later, after night had imposed himself onto everything, the creaking of the wagon sung everyone aboard (other than the driver) to sleep. Jabber woke from his nap, then flew out and slept on top of the wagon.
The next morning Will woke to brown. The spears had bowed into golden hills. As the ground crawled by Will drifted back into the pages of his dad’s library. To him, the hills looked as if giants imprisoned underground had beat and beat their prison ceiling attempting to escape. They beat in this place for a while, until they found there was no break, then they would move on to the next spot, until they were exhausted and slept. He imagined them waking up every once in a while and beating some more, and this he imagined is why there are earthquakes.
The Winter Letter Page 17