The Other of One - Book One: The Lythiann Chronicles

by Brian G. Burke

  After the commotion had diminished, floating there in place of the fish was the manifestation of a young mermaid. The fish were still present, you understand, for it was they who’d convened to form the figure itself...that of a mermaid. Her scales glittered and shone like she was clad in a treasury of rare diamond jewels. And the tender current gave her long, sea-grass hair a design of immobility, as though from some forgotten dream; treasured and serene.

  “Hello there, William!” she smiled.

  Lowering his arm, he replied, “Knitt? H-How did you know my name?”

  Just then, in an unexpected whoosh, the mermaid started swimming around the boy, laughing and giggling. She was a very energetic thing indeed and, to William’s sudden revelation, she was unusually affectionate...in a boy-girl sort of way.

  “My, you are a pretty thing!” she said, ignoring his question, for William’s needs weren’t all that vital to her quirky ways. “A bigger change than I would have thought! A lot smaller than the other fellow, you are...but still so handsome!”

  Slipping from William’s sight, Knitt then popped up behind him and started pinching his cheeks.

  “Aw, get off,” he spluttered, flapping his hands about his face.

  Not bothered by any means, Knitt simply giggled again before taking off to another of William’s blindsides. She was so quick that he could scarcely keep up with her.

  Catching him out on different angles, the girl sniggered, “You used to be one for the blarney back in the old days, I hear. Can’t you remember?”

  “I have absolutely no clue as to what you’re on about,” the lad protested, twisting all about. “Could you please just stay still! I need to ask for your help...please! Why is it that all you creatures have to stare at me all the time?”

  As abrupt as it was, the mermaid suddenly stopped and peered as though, upon William’s order, she was going to grant him the opportunity he’d asked for. But before he could open his mouth, Knitt had already burst into a vivid cluster of fish, flushed by William’s head, and reformed herself behind him with a flirtatious, chuckling wave.

  “Oh, I give up!” he huffed. “If you’re not going to help me find my friend, then I’ll just have to find him myself, won’t I? That’s if he’s even still breathing! Goodbye...good luck...and good riddance!”

  He was about to step off the edge and scramble off pathetically down a nearby grade when Knitt whisked up before his nose again.

  “Get out o’ my way, will you!” he snapped, but she didn’t budge.

  “Whoah! Would you look at the size o’ that worm!” William pointed with a gasp, trying to steer her attention away so he could give her the slip.

  Two fish simply poked their eyes out from the rear of Knitt’s head to confirm his claim. But when they saw nothing, they just shook their heads, and William’s ruse was cleverly foiled.

  “Ah, just head off, will ye?” he moaned, at the end of his tether.

  But before he could argue any further, Knitt asked of him, “Is it the leprechaun you seek?”

  Believing that he’d finally made a breakthrough, the lad said, “Yes! Thank you. Have you seen him?”

  “Well then, you shall need Waterlilly for that one,” the mermaid said with a smile. “She spotted him not too long ago. Found him very out of place.”

  “Waterlilly?” William groaned. “You mean I have to go off looking for another person?”

  Throwing him a smile, Knitt gestured at him to turn around, and wouldn’t you know, there was Waterlilly.

  She was a seahorse as big as William himself; grey in pigment, with black stripes and a leather saddle upon her back. Two organic reigns dangled from her snout, and her tale was coiled inwards at the bottom. She also had relatively similar behaviour to Knitt’s fish, in that she just floated there, observing William amid sprouting a wisp of tiny bubbles.

  “Waterlilly?” said the boy, stepping up to her, as he ran his palm down her gorgeous, sable mane. “And she’ll take me to Khrum?”

  When there was no response, he looked over his shoulder to find Knitt gone, and far off in the distant waters he spotted a vast school of playful fish vanishing into the thick shade of the deep.

  “Well now. She was odd,” he said to himself.

  Suddenly, approaching from the east, he witnessed the return of that massive silhouette. By that stage, it seemed that the creature was growing very suspicious of William, and he had good reason to think this. For those waters travelled on for an eternity in all directions and, for some reason, the sentinel was keeping his proximity in order to keep an eye on things, and William didn’t particularly wish to loiter so as to see what the beast was going to do next.

  Thusly, in sliding one foot into the stirrup, he uttered gently into Waterlilly’s ear, “I’m looking for my friend, Khrum. He’s an annoying little leprechauny thing. Can you help me find him, please?”

  Now, you should understand that he made two fundamental errors here. Firstly, he didn’t have to explain anything, because Waterlilly already knew what he wanted, and, secondly, because he was wasting his time talking to the seahorse, he was paying very little attention to his footing...and seahorses don’t wait around.

  Before poor William knew what was happening, Waterlilly took off like a hare in a hunt, whinnying and snorting. She was so fast that his legs went from underneath him. He struggled frantically, dangling from the reigns with one hand, to climb back into the saddle.

  Briskly and flawlessly the seahorse swam. Maybe not quite as fast as the Glogish travel, but it was still very swift, considering the lake within was congested with all sorts of razor-sharp rocks, prickly creatures, and all manners of weird, slimy oddities.

  They raced on and on they raced, with grave haste. Through underwater arches, dodging jagged spines of lethal coral, over and under crowds upon crowds of surly jellyfish, and hurtling over the boiling hot gushes of submarine volcanoes. Naturally Waterlilly was quite careful not to bang her own head or snag her tail, but it was up to William to watch out for himself. If he smacked his elbow on a turtle’s shell or clipped his ear on some passing lip then it was his own fault, as far as Waterlilly was concerned. It was her duty to get William to his friend...and nothing more.

  “Not so fast!” he begged. “Will you let me get settled...please! Please!”

  Imploring, however, was futile. Waterlilly was having none of it.

  With the reins ravelled tightly around one arm, William hauled with all his might and eventually managed to pull himself back into the saddle. Not a second did he have to get comfortable before they plunged into a sudden vertical drop, down into a sheer valley. Whilst skilfully altering her direction before the drop’s end, Waterlilly skimmed rapidly across the lakebed like a smooth stone skipping over a stagnant drift. Through an entire forest of bizarre seaweed they bored, as little creatures went clinging to William’s clothes and face, making him scream with a bellowing of white bubbles. He didn’t know what these things were. Awful-looking spidery fellows. But they were harmless, and William was otherwise far too enthralled in the chilling action to do anything other than screech.

  Just then, in mid-dash, Waterlilly dipped her nose into that murky seaweed and yanked out the little leprechaun like he was on a fishing line.

  “Whoooa!” he hollered, finding the saddle with a thump, then William barked out, “Khrum! Where did you get to?”

  “Oh, William! Ya came down for me!” cheered the leprechaun. “Sorry, lad. I saw a fine bit o’ herrin’ on its way down here, so I chashed after it. Couldn’t shtop myself.”

  “If you wanted fish you could’ve just gotten it from my satchel, you dope!” William argued, shouting through the bedlam of Waterlilly’s velocity.

  “Nah, ya see, that jusht would’ve made sense,” Khrum replied, trying to lighten the mood, but his guilty face implied a world of apology.

  “What about the Wayrod? Do you have that?” the boy interrogated.

  “I had it...” replied Khrum.

 
“But...”

  “That massive sardine thing tore pasht me ‘n’ the current ripped it from my hand. I think he ate it, actually!”

  “Ah, Khrum...for crying out loud! We needed that!” William protested.

  “Well, whose fault is it for cashtin’ it in then?” Khrum argued.

  “Don’t test me, leprechaun.”

  Sinking to a sulk, the leprechaun muttered, “Ooh, someone’s in foul form.”

  Further on they sped, and although they didn’t know it yet, the end was near, and it’s only natural for a horse of any breed to sprint at the final lap. So, as if it wasn’t already bad enough, young William wasn’t even remotely prepared for what was about to happen next.

  Firstly, everything about them started to slow into an amalgam of colour, but immense pressure seemed to be drawing against them. It was so strong that their faces started to ripple, and their gums drew back over their very teeth. Back to the surface they then ventured, only this time they were going in some form of lightning speed.

  Everything around them had lost its shape, altering dramatically from the norm. It was a great distortion of greys, browns, and greens. William couldn’t help but swallow a few big gulps of the salty water in the process, and Khrum’s eyelids were practically pulled back over the brim of his hat. It was nearly impossible for them to hold on, with their teeth chattering wildly through their sickly groans. Ceaselessly their hands were slipping, and William’s feet kept losing the stirrups. Faster, and faster, and faster they went. Closer, and closer, and closer they got; until Waterlilly finally threw back her head and skidded with a howling neigh. Like two torpedoes, William and Khrum shot from her back, tore through the water and, with a crash, they blasted through the ice and landed their backsides into a thick patch of snow aside the lake bank. They’d made it out.

  “Oh! Oh! You found your way out. You’re alive!” cried Icrick, running to them with a look of genuine worry. “Bless us and save us all!”

  He was wearing a pair of ridiculous-looking goggles and a leather cap, both of which he took off immediately when he saw that his friends were safe. It seemed that he was readying himself to go in after them...which was quite a noble gesture, really.

  Neither of them could talk at first, with them clawing at the grass, choking and coughing, and drawing in gasping breaths.

  Eventually, Khrum spluttered, “Why didn’t ya jump in after me, Icrick? Ya could do with the wash! I thought ya were my friend.”

  Upset by those words, Icrick grew shameful of his cowardice. But he couldn’t help his timidity, because Grogochs were never meant to be brave creatures. They simply attended to people’s minor needs and chores, like helpers of daily tasks and such. Khrum knew this well enough.

  “Bah, never mind me!” said he, regretting his harshness. “It was my own fault for actin’ the maggot on the ice. Sorry, Icrick...I didn’t mean ta take it out on ya. Anyways, by the looks of it, I’m guessin’ you were goin’ ta jump in...at some stage.”

  Still gasping for air, William pulled himself up onto a rock and, knocking the water out of his ear, he frowned. “If you ever, ever pull something like that again, Khrum, you can go straight back to the Grollo and wait outside it until that spell dies out! Because I am not jumping in after you.”

  “Ah, ya enjoyed it, me aul’ bucko...admit it.” The leprechaun laughed, clambering up onto William’s shoulder. “But now I’m indebted ta ya for savin’ me. So you’re shtuck with me I’m afraid!”

  “Great!” said William, wringing out his kilt. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

  “Why, it’s always good luck ta have a leprechaun by your side. Now, if ya’d be so kind as ta get a wee shnifter o’ whisky out o’ that bag o’ yours... ‘Twud be jusht the trick ta warm up the aul’ bones after that nippy escapade!”

  “Not on your life!” the lad objected. “You can have some tea. Like it or lump it.”

  “...with a sip o’ port in it, perhaps?”

  “No! You’re lucky to be getting anything at all after what you’ve just pulled. You and your herring,” William snapped, removing his wet gauntlets and flicking out the water.

  “Fair enough so! Be a spoilsport!” sulked Khrum.

  “Hang on a second,” said Icrick, looking at their empty hands. “Where’s my Wayrod?”

  “Uh-oh!” muttered the leprechaun, ducking behind William’s shoulder.

  “Sorry, Icrick,” the boy said. “It was the sentinel who snatched it off me that time...I think he...um...ate it. I’m sorry, it’s my fault.”

  “Oh, bother!” the Grogoch said sadly.

  All the same, he was rather appreciative of William’s honesty, even though the lad was secretly covering for the leprechaun.

  “Well, we aren’t at a total loss, because I still have my maps and another gadget or two hidden away,” said Icrick, packing away his goggles and cap. “Not to worry, William. We’ll get by. And I thank you for your honesty.”

  When the Grogoch turned his back to gather up his things, Khrum leant into William’s ear and whispered, “Thanks, lad. I wouldn’t have heard the end of it.”

  Not amused, the boy whispered back, “I know! That’s why I did it. I have enough on my plate, without having to listen to you two going off at each other all the time. I was doing myself a favour.”

  “Shtill! Fair play ta ya, boy,” said Khrum with a wink. “‘Twas a decent gesture no matter what ya say.”

  So, having discovered a cosy little nook in which to settle, Icrick went about building a nice, refreshing fire, while also preparing two mugs of hot tea for William and Khrum, which he obtained from the boy’s satchel.

  Happily they rested there that evening, under the fair shelter of a grand evergreen tree, broad and tall, as the mild eastward breeze faded into night’s arrival. Quite a little adventure they’d had that third day, but innocent in contrast to those nearing days of dread which had not yet come to pass.

  - Chapter Eight -

  Horrors upon the Trail

  Having roused unusually early the following morning, William already had breakfast laid out just in time for sunrise. By the time the others had finished eating theirs, he already had all of their belongings packed and ready to go. How eager he was to set out that morn. It could only have been, I suppose, that the trip was beginning to take its toll on young William; that he would have preferred to get it over with, sooner rather than later. It’s not that he wasn’t enjoying the company of his companions, or that he didn’t appreciate the Lythiann countryside, or anything of the sort. It was just down to him missing his mother, and all he wanted was to get the process moving along as swiftly as could be.

  Making way for the woodland ahead, they began a fresh outset. Little did William or Khrum know that there was yet another hidden vale en route to the east, so they had no other choice but to wander down through it. Icrick, of course, already knew of that vale, though he led on without mentioning a single word about it. It was of no big issue to him, so he didn’t see why an explanation was needed. Khrum and William would’ve liked some decent notice to prepare themselves for yet another laborious valley hike; both downward and upward again later on. With grievances kept to themselves, they travelled on regardless.

  Most of their morning, and afternoon, was spent reaching the far side of the vale. They came to discover that it was actually quite small in comparison to most, and that situations could have been much worse than having to take an extra bit of time to stroll across something as picturesque as that valley actually was. For even though the mountains upon either side were of coaly bare rock, the lesser slopes were flush with oak, chestnut, pine, and cedar, all of which rambled downhill until they met with acres of wild flowers: Blue flax, Chicory, Golden yarrow, Crimson clover, Butterfly weed, and Foxglove were but a taste of those which they encountered. Those blossoms remained at the base of the foothills and went no further, and the aroma was summery and warming. The floor of the vale itself was of grass and little else. But it w
as fine dwarf fescue, with a delightfully seasoned scent drifting from it. Yes, it turned out to be a kindly stroll, which had them glad that Icrick decided to take them that way after all.

  Once that vale had ended, they ambled upon a trail which carried them ‘round by a lofty fir forest, then up to the brink of a shallow gorge. Rushing wildly within were the roaring rapids, and the talk of shifting stones clicked and clacked beneath its turbulent tide. Awaiting them was a grassy ramp which, though sheer as it was, eventually slid down to the bottom of the gorge. Down there the grass had faded to tufts until it was no more. Instead, gravelling the gorge floor were smoothly rounded stones and clumps of fallen rock which spread steadily along the bank, up as far as the water’s edge. Then, not too far upstream, about a half-mile or so, resided the tunnel wherefrom the white waters flowed.

  Icrick was a good deal ahead after having descended first into the heart of the chasm. William and Khrum followed, slipping and wobbling on the rickety stones as they progressed along. It really was far from safe down there. The surrounding walls were very unpredictable, and extremely brittle. At one point, Khrum even shouted ahead to Icrick to ask him about Meldrid and how he was doing, when a massive sheet of sandstone slid from the face and came crashing down right before him, smashing into a hundred pieces. You can rest assured, he wasn’t long keeping his mouth shut after that.

  “That’ll teach you!” Icrick grumbled. “You know better than to go shouting around these gorges, Khrum. Remember what happened to little Yilly Nipkin when he bet the woodland crier that he could put on a one-man opera inside the Echoless Gorge by N’raìla? He hadn’t gotten two notes in when a boulder trampled him into the ground like a wild gooseberry. Thought you would have learnt your lesson from that story.”