by Joseph Evans
As Ropart Sanfarrow turned a corner, he took a note out of his pocket and reread it for the fifth time.
Tilly’s Cafe, Toppletod Way, 2pm, Tuesday.
That was all that was written. He had no idea who had posted it.
When he entered the cafe there was only one person in there aside from the girl behind the counter; a man dressed head to toe in robes from Arivel. He was sitting without a drink. Sanfarrow would have said he was staring into space, but, slightly disturbingly, even his eyes were covered by his robes.
Sanfarrow knew that in Arivelian culture it was considered important to cover the skin with fabric, but he had never before seen someone so entirely masked by their clothing. The only part of the man’s face that wasn’t covered was his mouth. Sanfarrow wondered how on earth he was supposed to see.
“May I join you?” Sanfarrow offered.
The Arivelian nodded, breathing abnormally.
Sanfarrow sat down, placed the note on the table and slid it towards the stranger.
“So . . .” he said. “I’m here. Are you going to tell me what this is all about? I have to say, I’ve never been summoned so enigmatically before.”
Now that Sanfarrow was sitting, he could see that the man in front of him was trembling, and his mouth was twitching. The small patch of skin around his mouth looked horribly burnt and blistered.
There was no reply. Instead, the man lifted something from underneath the table; a canister or some kind of thermal flask. As he unscrewed the lid, Sanfarrow saw that his hands were even worse than the skin around his mouth. Not only were they deformed and cracked and blistered, but they were bubbling; the skin was actually pulsating like molten lava.
“What in Gedin’s name . . . ?” Sanfarrow whispered to himself.
The man then placed the lid on the table, reached into the flask, and pulled out a worm. It struggled violently between his fingers before he opened his mouth wide and dropped the worm into it. As he chewed, his whole body gave a few spasms.
“Oh, dear Gedin, no . . .” Sanfarrow said. “You’re the one . . . You’re the one that sent Seckry to get the rintide worms, aren’t you? Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Those worms were being used as waste disposal for an incredibly toxic and unstable experiment. They’re diseased, they’re contaminated. And you’re eating them?”
The man said nothing.
“Look, what is this all about?” Sanfarrow said furiously. “Why are you here? Why did you want to meet me?”
The man then put his unsettlingly hideous hands in front of him and made the shape of a box with his fingers.
Sanfarrow didn’t know what this meant.
The man then pointed to Sanfarrow’s pocket and made the shape of a box once more.
Sanfarrow reached to his pocket and paused. There was only one thing in there. His last gift from Kevan Kayne. The un-openable cube.
He tentatively pulled it out. “This . . . ?”
The Arivelian nodded.
“How did you know that this was in my pocket?” Sanfarrow said, his skin beginning to prickle with fear. “This is something private, something that was given to me by a dear friend.”
The man refused to say a word. Instead, he flipped Sanfarrow’s note over so that it was blank side up and slid it into the centre of their table.
Sanfarrow laughed incredulously and without humour.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to write down possible combinations for the lock. I’ve tried almost every combination there is. I’ve spent two years trying to unlock it. There’s only one person that could have unlocked it, and that’s the person who gave it to me. That person was shot dead.”
What happened next made Sanfarrow grip his seat in horror. Thin tentacles started growing out of the man’s knuckles and reaching for the paper. As they touched it, they began scratching numbers onto its surface in what appeared to be blood.
“How on earth . . . ?” Sanfarrow said, his voice wavering. “What are those worms doing to you . . . ?”
Once sixteen numbers had been etched onto the paper, the tentacles slid sinisterly back into the man’s skin.
“How in Gedin’s name would you know this combination?” Sanfarrow said, frozen still and sweating profusely.
The entire paper now seemed to be growing mould rapidly, as if infected by the hideous man’s touch.
Sanfarrow swallowed and stared at it.
Could it really be the right combination?
With shaking hands, he began entering the numbers, and with the final one there was a click. He shook his head slowly in disbelief. It was open.
He lifted the two segments apart and there was just one thing inside; a small piece of card. Inscribed on it were two words.
It’s me.
It was only then that the man sitting in front of Sanfarrow spoke.
“Hello Ropart,” said Kevan Kayne, and lifted another worm into his mouth.
Seckry’s adventures continue in
The Trinity Awakening
The Seckry Sequence Book 2
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Author’s Note