Adelaide nodded and closed her eyes. She desperately hoped that for just once since the attack on Havendale, she would be able to slumber in tranquility. Her hopes were unfortunately dashed as woeful horrors plagued her mind once more.
CHAPTER NINE
At Clayton’s request, Adelaid e made her way to the fresh water supply shortly after rising from her nap. She heaved an uneasy sigh as her three companions urged her onward, remaining out of sight to give her some small amount of privacy. The gentle current babbled along, carrying fallen leaves towards an undisclosed location, far away from the security of their arborous masters. Rays of sunlight bounced off the dancing ripples, reflecting themselves against the surrounding tree trunks and slippery moss-covered stones.
Weak as she was, Adelaide managed to remove her dampened, stained party dress. The gentle current caressed her exposed flesh as she submerged herself into the cool, refreshing water. Melodious songbirds fluttered from tree branch to tree branch as she scrubbed the dirt and grime off of her arms and shoulders. Shapely clouds drifted casually above as she dipped her head backwards, letting the grease wash away from her hair. In that serene moment, Adelaide found herself succumbing to the light touches of hope. Fleeting as they were, she allowed them to consume her body, slipping unchecked into her emotionally raw psyche. After what felt like an eternity, but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, she dunked her entire head underwater before returning to dry land to redress. She turned, one last time, to witness the perfect beauty surrounding her. If only they could all have stayed there, where mayhem and suffering seemed nonexistent. Adelaide shook her head as she permitted the harsh reality of her situation to resurface. She called out to her companions to rejoin her, and soon the group was on its way.
The scenery around them soon started to change. The shrubs and trees lessened in density, and the animal wildlife became more abundant and braver in revealing themselves. Various woodland creatures popped their heads out of holes and from behind tree trunks. The sharp chattering of squirrels up on the branches above them, quarreling over nuts and other assorted foods became frequent, and every now and then a bird’s song could be heard from the top of a branch.
Even with her moment of ease back at the creek still fresh in her mind, Adelaide again found herself submitting to inner fears. The earlier attack, combined with the lingering effects of the nightmare that followed, had left her entirely vulnerable. Each snap of a twig made her jump. Every gust of wind made her shudder. Her companions faded to mere shadows dancing along beside her as the world started to shrink dimly away. She struggled to rationalize her thoughts as they darted from one side of her mind to the next. Time enveloped her as every step she took seemed to resound throughout the woods. Quietly, she whispered each pace until the numbers reached the hundreds. Now and then she shook her head, as if all the thoughts and memories she contained inside were pieces of a complicated puzzle, just waiting to be put together. Her skin felt cold as bouts of ringing noises struck her ears. She found herself oddly smiling, much like her mother had done back In Havendale. This caused her to cringe and blink her eyes before muttering out an incomprehensible stanza. It was almost agonizing to feel Finn’s hand suddenly touch her shoulder and release her from the trance.
“Ariadne,” he whispered. “Look. We’re here.” They had finally reached the edge of the woods. A rough, country road stood before them, stretching along from east to west. Beyond that, as far as the eye could see, were rows and rows of corn stalks.
“Well,” Finn said, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. “What now?”
“No Tibris Guards in sight,” Adelaide stated. “We don’t know what’s out there,” Raoul muttered. “They could be waiting for us.” “Whatever is out there,” declared Clayton, “we will find out tomorrow. The sun’s almost down and I don’t intend on striking out into the farmlands under nightfall. The stories you hear about those seeders and what they do to lost travelers makes my skin crawl. We stay put till morning.”
The group agreed and they retreated back into the woods to make camp. Clayton prepared a second pit and tossed three more lorbs into its center. Finn helped Adelaide organize dinner while Raoul surprised everyone by laying out some blankets. The conversation stayed light that evening. Plates of cold bacon and homegrown tomatoes from Havendale’s public garden were passed around and quickly devoured. Many darkening thoughts and concerns weighed on the group’s mind, preventing the break out of their normal lively debates. It wasn’t until Raoul cleared his throat and rose to his feet that the night took an interesting turn.
“So,” he began. “Do any of you know what feelings taste like?”
His remark was met with stares of confusion, so he continued on. “You might consider me a rotting wink for tasting the occasional pellet of TOX. That being said, I have to say it will blow your rotting minds. Once all the side effects fade away, you get a chance to understand yourself a whole lot more than you could on any amount of Cinnamon Cider or Honeydrop Wine. I must also add that with all this, recent tragedy befalling us, it certainly helps to take the edge off. I cannot put it any simpler than that. Care for a sample?”
With that, Raoul extended his hand, revealing three TOX pellets. Finn shook his head while Adelaide scoffed in distain. Clayton stared uneasily, stroking his chin in unmanageable curiosity.
“You are pathetic, Raoul,” Adelaide snorted. “No one here is going to indulge in your little vice.”
“I…uh…I doubt they’d even work on me,” Clayton laughed hesitantly. “I am already quite content in all things.”
Raoul smiled. “Your first time is always the best,” he assured them. “You’ll wink out almost immediately. Sorra herself couldn’t give you so much pleasure. I’d give anything to have my first taste again.”
Clayton hesitated briefly before snatching it out of Raoul’s hand.
“You rotting wink,” said Adelaide, aghast. ‘I don’t believe you.” “What do you say, Stokes?” Raoul asked gingerly. That unnatural smirk was growing on his face again as he waved his hand from side to side.
Even as she shook her head, Adelaide could feel the painful sensations from earlier starting to return. She quickly thrust her hands behind her as they started to tremble.
“I can see you’re a little on edge,” Raoul chuckled. “Here. I promise this will help.” Adelaide cast a quick glance to Finn, who shook his head in defeat and held out his hand. Raoul tossed him one, which he dropped into his mouth with an indifferent sigh. Clayton was already easing back and casting his eyes towards the sky. Whatever the TOX was doing it seemed to be working quickly. Seeing this, Adelaide muttered something unintelligible and snatched the remaining pellet. Biting her lip and closing her eyes, she dropped it into her mouth.
CHAPTER TEN
The sky was littered with clusters of stars swirling around the emptiness within. It was a vast infinity without name or legend that reached into the very fabric of existence. As Clayton Hogg stared up into that formidable void, he sloppily wiped away the vomit from around the corners of his mouth and started to speak. His voice broke and his lips quivered. Whoever he believed he was talking to, it was clear he had no control over how devastated he felt.
“I see you…I… I can see you up there. Why are you hiding from me? You think I cared? I didn’t then and I don’t now. You left me. You abandoned your only son to…to go chase some winked theory about what makes Sanctumsea tick. What did…did it…did it get you? Where are you now? Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Hey,” a voice behind him hissed. Finn was standing a few feet away, a blanket tied loosely around his waist. His face was clammy and glistened in the pale moonlight. “Clayton, Clayton, Clay…Pig…Hogs, Clay Pigs, I mean Clayton Hogpig…your name is so rotting catchy. Listen, Piggy, we got to trod…yes, trod on. Blondie’s magic beans only keep us invisible for so long. We need to go find Gobblegut, the king of the Thundergiants, so they can give us protection against the rising Rai
nmakers. Are you listening to me? Mr. Pig? Mr. Hog-pig, you must listen to me. Hey, have you…you…you seen my blanket? I think some rotter snatched it.”
Ignoring his rant, Clayton stepped cautiously away and walked back to camp. He could see Adelaide squatting over the glowing lorbs, her hands resting firmly on her knees. She was making various animal noises at Raoul, who sat beside her with his arms crossed and legs spread as widely as they could go.
“Hey King,” she whispered seductively , after belting forth the mating call of some exotic bird. “Hey, come on, King. What do you want, huh? I can bark like a chicken. I can squeal like a cat. What does your royal plugger crave?”
Raoul looked up at her, licking his lips hungrily. “Oh you want me to shed my skin like a Firetongue?” she laughed. “Flick my licker out at you? Wriggle my body free? You want to plug my rump till the sun comes up, don’t you?”
Raoul nodded.
“Well come on then!” she exclaimed, throwing out her arms. “Show me what you can do.” The disagreeable heir lurched to his feet, only to lose his balance and slump back down. A low, grumbling snore passed through his lips as he rolled onto his side and coiled himself into a tightly coiled ball. His eyes, though glassy and cross-eyed, stayed open as he drifted away into a highly medicated sleep.
Adelaide threw her hair back, laughing melodiously. She turned towards Clayton as he approached her and addressed him in a poorly practiced accent.
“I knew he’d t opple, the over invigorated dip. He wants me bad. Everyone wants me. Everyone…except you, of course. What’s wrong with you, Clay? May I call you Clay? Ha, as if your opinion means anything to me. Close your rotting mouth. You think you’re so mighty and stout, with your grand shoulders and noble pelvis…not that your pelvis crossed my mind. I think you might be making me say these things with your oblivious expressions, you rotting statue.”
It was then that Adelaide noticed Clay ton’s gaze was focused on the three lorbs still glowing inside the shallow pit. He seemed thoroughly entranced by them and had completely missed her dialogue.
“They’re so…bright, and illuminated,” he murmured, more so to himself than to Adelaide. “We have no idea what makes them tick or how they even came to be. And yet we rely on them for so much. You know who was really curious about them was my father. Oh the way he went on about theories, legends and whispers from before the founding of the four provinces. The winked dip was convinced they possessed more qualities than we already knew. That’s why he left, you know. To chase a couple raw leads fueled by obsession and untended paranoia. I haven’t heard from him since.”
“Lorbs is lorbs,” Adelaide m urmured, rolling her eyes. “Lorbs is lorbs is…is lorbs and lorbs is lorbs…well they just are.”
“Miss Stokes, I think you might be wiser than your actions…oh my, excuse me…give you credit for.”
Adelaide blushed. From Clayton, this was the closest thing to a compliment she had ever received. “M y mum…momma…mommy would disagree. Sorra above, she could be a pest…yes, a pest. She was always going on about me being more like a lady. As if she was any rotting better! I tell you, Clayton…I’ll tell you…I’ll…I have this glimpse of her when I was a small girl, sitting down to tea with Mr. Van…Arrow…Varrow. You remember him, I’m sure. Everyone started talking, and my dad defended her, but…but you know….Gable was born not…well he…never mind. I’m sure it was nothing.”
“Of course,” Clayton assured her. “I’m sure it was. Could you kindly keep an eye on Raoul there while I return Finn to our company?”
Adelaide burped loudly before giving him an exaggerated nod. The search proved to be easier than expected. Clayton had barely set out into the woods before the sound of shameless whimpering rose from behind a nearby tree. Finn was slouched against the bark, his head in his hands and his eyes red with sorrow. It was the first time anyone had seen him cry.
“Finn, why don’t you come back to camp? The group’s missing you.” Finn choked back a laugh and shook his head. His hand slowly rose and pointed out towards a patch of ground some yards away. From what Clayton could see there was nothing there.
“Why doesn’t somebody help him?”
“Help who, Finn? What do you see?”
“He’s just laying there….he is hurt. Won’t someone make sure he’s ok? I…can’t do it myself. Then everyone will know my secret.”
“Who are you talking about?” Clayton pressed.
With that, a low sigh escaped Finn’s lips and he arched himself upright.
“I…I think Gobblegut isn’t coming, Pigs. We’d better retire for the night.” “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Sorra above and Necrya below, I’m dandy. I’m…resolute. I just had a little itching of the mind, that’s all. Come on, let’s head back to camp.”
With that he stumbled back towards the campsite, leaving Clayton to puzzle over his friend’s strange hallucination.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The next morning began awkwardly. Finn awoke to the image of Raoul’s naked feet grazing his nostrils. Adelaide groaned in agony with her stomach in knots. Clayton struggled to his knees before toppling back onto his face. By the time everyone could sit upright without vomiting, the sun had already reached the center of the sky.
“So, that was TOX,” Clayton remarked dryly. His bones felt brittle and there was a disdainful taste of chalk in his mouth. “I think I’ll do without a second serving,” Adelaide whispered, cradling her head in her hands.
“Oh you dips can’t handle a little lawbreaking now and then,” Raoul sneered. “Some Red Hands you are.” A moment of silence passed. The group shared glanced with one another before Clayton suddenly broke out laughing. Raoul joined him, soon followed by Adelaide and Finn.
“Aye,” Clayton exclaimed, rocking from side to side. “A bunch of rotting troublemakers, we are. No wonder we’ve been condemned to die.”
“I don’t know how we managed to hide it so well,” Adelaide threw in humorously.
“A gang of givie-loving dips,” Raoul croaked. The erratic merriment commenced for a few seconds more until Adelaide finally forced herself to stand up and waddle clumsily out of sight. The sounds of gagging and light vomiting soon became audible. She was gone for only a moment before swiftly returning to the camp. There was something small clasped in her hands as she walked. A closer look from the group confirmed it to be a locket. Small, worn, and second rate, it appeared to have been left outside for quite some time. Inside it was a rough carving of a young man’s face. Scratched beneath the image were the words, “From Hollis”.
“It’s been here for at least a week,” Clayton said, examining the item. “Maybe dropped in haste by someone on the run.” “Whoever it belonged to left tracks,” Adelaide stated, pointing ahead. Scattered footsteps had disturbed the untouched soil. Unlike hers, each footprint wove a tale of life threatened desperation, harshly imprinted by its maker.
“Where do you suppose they come from?” Adelaide continued. “Only one way to find out,” replied Clayton, stuffing the locket inside his pocket. “Let’s clean up here and retrace them. Maybe there’s shelter and better food up ahead.”
The rest of the group, though skeptical, ultimately agreed. Their rations were dwindling, and the thought of resting their burdened heads on something softer than a coarse knapsack filled their minds with unyielding resolve.
Afternoon folded into evening as they packed up their supplies and made their way back into the woods. The sun, like a nosy neighbor slyly peaking over the top of a fence, lowered itself from sight. Darkness creeped steadily over the sky, exposing its twinkling stars like an army of hives consuming a nervous face. Adelaide, shivering, wondered how long it would be before Clayton decided to set up camp for the night. She ultimately decided to mention it to him. Before she could, however, her thoughts were interrupted by a pair of faint voices stemming from the growing darkness ahead. Adelaide unsheathed her knife. Raoul clasped his letter opener menacingly while F
inn pulled out his hatchet. Clayton bade them all to crouch down as flickering lights appeared just up ahead.
The voices soon became clearer. One appeared to have a stutter. “I’m t -t-t-telling you, P-Puck, that last c-c-critter we had was sp-sp-spectacular. Hunted him down and k-k-killed him myself. So all I’m saying is you c-c-c-cacan’t have my leftovers if you were t-t-too busy sleeping t-t-to help.”
What the one called Puck said next was inaudible. “N -n-now there’s no c-c-c-call for that k-k-kind of language. You know there’ll be p-p-plenty of more ca-ca-critters out there to c-catch.”
“Wath is that to me, huh? I’m still hungry,” replied Puck. His voice was painfully muffled, as if his jaw was swollen. “What are they arguing about?” Adelaide asked, a little too loudly. Clayton’s finger shot up to his lips. “Hey,” the stuttering man said. “D-d-did you hear that?” “Sure did,” Puck replied. “We’th got spies wathing us.” The group froze. No one dared to breathe.
“W-w-w- oh rot it, w-w-what d-do we d-ddo?” the stuttering man exclaimed.
“I’ll tell you whath we do; we attath them by using the elelent of suprith!” “Not if we attack you first,” Rao ul boldly yelled. He leapt from behind Clayton and darted into the bushes, swinging his blade side to side. There was a quick yelp, followed by a momentary struggle and the continuation of Puck’s cursing.
“I g-g-got him,” the stuttering man cried, his voice mixing with loud cries of pain from Raoul.
“Well hoth him down,” Puck growled. “So I can beath him for hithing my fath!”
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