Frog and the Sandspiders of Aridian

by Joffre White

  He stopped halfway around its circumference, his breath coming quickly as he tried to gather his thoughts. He then remembered the feather and the message that it might contain and felt inside his robes. The quill was a little dishevelled, but still intact. He stroked it with his fingers, easing the barbs back into shape, but he could not see any obvious markings as he turned it over and back. He held it up to the silver silhouette of a moon; it was then that the words appeared, the moonlight shining through the small plume.

  TAKE COUNCIL WITH HE WHO IS CALLED BARON. HE WILL BE YOUR GUIDE.

  Oh. Great, thought Billy. Why didn't I look earlier?

  He stared at the message again, digesting the words. The reality of what he now had to do filled him with dread as he moved to make his way back to the dune's entrance and discover if Baron was still alive. His mouth was suddenly dry and he took a swig of the bitter, warm water from the bottle.

  ‘Yuck!’ he spat. ‘If I ever get out of this alive, I'm never going to moan about warm coke again.’

  The fearsome noise of fighting grew louder as he stealthily approached the entrance and he tentatively looked in. He could see bloodstained bodies spread out on the floor and quickly turned away to avoid seeing too much detail. Then, gritting his teeth, he looked again, this time focussing on the upright figures, searching for Baron. He saw Zebran suddenly limp out from a tightly knit group and with him half a dozen of his followers; they were heading in his direction – the only way out.

  Billy stepped back into the shadows before he could be seen and waited as Zebran and his men bundled past. They were cursing as they made their way over the ridge and into the night, followed by half a dozen arrows, which fell short of their quarry.

  He heard others approaching and he pressed himself against the side of the dune, desperately trying to melt into it. Two figures appeared, red-tinged swords glistening in the moonlight.

  ‘I'll get some of the men and we'll run them down. We'll crush them like the insects that they are,’ said a voice.

  ‘They have nowhere to run except to her,’ came Baron's voice. ‘Whatever happens, I swear that her protection will not be enough to save the treacherous cowards.’

  He sheathed his scarlet sword and with a movement so fast that it was a blur, his hand shot out and grabbed Billy's arm, pulling him from the shadows.

  12

  The One

  As soon as the door sealed itself, Nadiah took four light crystals from a small alcove, each one attached to its own leather lanyard. She had hung one around her neck and the others had followed suit.

  As they jogged along the tunnel, the crystals illuminated their passage while throwing out a myriad of shadows in their wake. Frog had lost track of the time as they journeyed, but the girls seemed tireless, never slackening their pace, except to halt for a few moments to drink when Nadiah uncorked a water bottle and passed it around. Each of them swallowed the refreshing liquid and then they were off again before Frog could say a word. He was trying to piece the events together in his head, knowing that asking questions would only delay them, but, ultimately, he knew that he would have to trust Nadiah's judgement.

  The tunnel twisted and turned, but there were no junctions, no alternative paths, and the ground remained level. Frog deduced that wherever they were heading, it was certainly not back towards the surface.

  After two further water stops, they reached the base of a short flight of stone steps, at the top of which was a large wooden door with heavy black hinges and a circular metal handle. Firmly seated across it, resting in two metal brackets, was a sturdy wooden beam. Nadiah stepped up and pressed her ear to the door.

  ‘What can you hear?’ questioned Frog.

  Nadiah signalled for silence, as she pressed closer to the thick wooden grain. They stood in the eerie quiet, which was only disturbed by the sounds of their breathing. After a minute, she stepped back, concentration etched on her brow.

  ‘I can detect no presence, but in these troubled times we must expect the unexpected. I will enter first, Frog will follow and – you two – be ready to pull back and bar the door should we need to retreat,’ she instructed. ‘Frog, help me lift the beam, but do so quietly.’

  Frog stepped up and they lifted the length of wood from its metal cradles and put it to one side. Nadiah gripped the handle, ready to twist and pull the door open.

  Frog drew his sword, its blade dazzling in the light of the crystals. Nadiah turned the metal latch and pulled the door slowly back. The light from their crystals pushed back the shadows into the awaiting chamber as Nadiah moved to the left, Frog to the right and the two girls stepped forwards to fill the doorframe.

  Frog took in the scene. The seats and benches that filled the small auditorium were carved out of stone with a central flight of steps reaching up between them; there was seating for maybe a hundred, no more. A small stone dais occupied the centre of the floor.

  ‘What is this place?’ asked Frog.

  ‘This was the first meeting place of our elders when we retreated underground to escape the devastating change on Aridian's surface,’ explained Nadiah. ‘It was here that the first decisions were made governing our people. It was also here that the first opposition was raised and the leaders of those that were to become the Dreden announced that they were returning to the world above. They craved the sunlight, no matter how harsh it may be.’ Her voice echoed flatly around the walls. ‘There was much arguing and bitterness; families were divided, relationships and trust destroyed, animosity abounded. The old ones abandoned this place, as it held nothing good within its walls, no positive legacy for those who chose to remain –’

  A dry scuttling noise stopped her and all four of them grouped in a semi-circle ready to meet any oncoming foe. Their eyes strained at the shifting gloom among the rows of benches and the two corridors on either side that receded into darkness. As they stood motionless, Frog's ears could only hear the tension in his breath. He wanted to break the silence; he wanted to shout, anything to provoke a reaction. Then, the dry rustle came again, to their left, three rows back. As they shifted positions, Frog saw Nadiah clench her fists and the familiar glow radiated through her fingers.

  With a swift movement, she thrust her palms forwards. A shock wave rippled out, followed by a small whimper from behind the seats and then there was silence. She moved slowly towards the row of seats, signalling for the others to stay, but Frog instinctively covered her back, following close behind her and watching nervously as she climbed the short steps. As she looked between the seats, she gave out a gasp of surprise and reached down.

  Frog could not see at first what it was that she cradled closely and protectively to her breast. Then, moving closer, he could see a small body, about the size of a large cat, wrapped amongst the folds of her robe. A paw hung limply from her hand as she made her way back down the steps. Finally, she knelt on the floor and the others gathered around her as she cradled the animal with open tenderness.

  ‘Had I known, I would never have inflicted harm on her. I am only too relieved that my aim was to stun, not to kill.’

  She gently allowed it to settle in her lap and Frog gazed at the animal. In the light of the crystals, its sleek red and brown fur flickered as if covered with small dancing flames, a brush of a tail curling over its legs, but what mesmerised him most was the size of its ears. They were conical and largely out of proportion with its body. The girls were equally transfixed.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked.

  ‘Something that has not been seen amongst our people for many, many years. They have all but passed into legend,’ replied Nadiah.

  ‘Does it have a name?’ he asked.

  ‘They are generally known as Firefox, but I do not know what her individual name is,’ she replied.

  Frog noticed that her fingers trembled slightly as she absently stroked the animal. ‘How do you know that it's a she?’ he continued.

  ‘Because the males have black ears.’

  ‘Is it dang
erous?’ For some reason as soon as he had asked the question, he felt stupid.

  ‘No, it is a seeker of truths for whomever it serves. It is a gatherer of information and it can sense deceit and lies. It can slip into rooms and places almost unnoticed to the untrained eye and it can direct its listening to the smallest of whispers. When it looks into your eyes, it sees your innermost thoughts and intentions.’ She paused and looked at the Firefox. Her eyes moistened and a tear slipped down her cheek.

  ‘They were persecuted by many after the great change that drove us from the surface. Some chose to shun them, then eventually they became so mistrusted that they were banished into the wilderness, passing into myth. The Sisterhood educate us in many of the old cultures, but as far as I know, there are none alive who have had the honour to meet or even see one of these beautiful creatures.’

  One of the girls reached forwards to brush the coat with the tips of her fingers and at that moment, the Firefox's eyes opened. The effect on the girls and Frog was of raw emotion as they stared into its blood-red eyes.

  In that moment, Frog understood why he was foolish to have asked if the animal was dangerous and a sense of concern for its safety welled up within him; he felt that he should protect it with his own life if necessary.

  With tears of distress in their eyes, the girls were pleading for Nadiah to reassure them that the animal had not been harmed.

  She spoke to it quietly and softly in a strange language, finally kissing the backs of its velveteen ears and gently placing it on the floor. It sat there on its haunches staring back at her and then it looked at the others, finally resting its eyes on Frog. It carefully stood on all fours and approached him, its beautiful eyes examining him intently. Then, it raised its snout and sniffed at the air before turning and scampering up the stairway, glancing back to them halfway up and raising its nose again as if to beckon them.

  ‘We must follow,’ instructed Nadiah.

  Without question, they climbed the stairs and made their way through a small open doorway at the back of the amphitheatre.

  The passage they followed was wide enough for them to walk, three abreast, and this time the ground sloped downwards. They walked at a brisk pace, following the bushy tail of the Firefox, the light of the crystals catching the sheen of its coat, which danced and shimmered like flames on the edge of the shadows. It moved briskly, never disappearing, but never letting them gain on it. Then, suddenly in a blink, it was gone.

  ‘What now?’ asked Frog.

  ‘Shssh!’ said Nadiah. ‘Listen.’

  Voices. The murmur of voices was ahead somewhere in the tunnel and Frog went to draw his sword. Nadiah placed her hand on the hilt.

  ‘No. The Firefox would not lead us into danger. We are expected.’

  Slowly, they walked forwards into a growing, stronger light until they turned a corner and entered a small chamber. A figure, its hooded cloak the colour of saffron, was crouched down and gently stroking the Firefox's ears. The animal licked an exposed hand then gave a sideways look at Frog before it disappeared through an opposite doorway. The figure stood and two dark hands folded back the hood to reveal the brown face of a man with chiselled features, a strong jawbone and broad nose. His hair was chestnut red with black streaks on either side. His voice when it came did not suit his appearance. It was gentle and soft.

  ‘Sisterhood,’ he smiled. ‘It has been a long time. Far too long. Quickly, follow me,’ he said, turning through the exit.

  They followed along a short passage before they spilled out into a larger chamber where another cloaked and hooded figure sat on a large wooden bench. The Firefox sat before it and as they watched, the creature's coat shimmered and flexed. Its features grew and blurred until its form had changed into that of another tall, saffron-cloaked figure. Two hands extended from the cloak and threw back the hood to reveal a woman whose dark complexion blended into her long, flowing auburn hair, her deep red eyes and high boned cheeks complementing her soft red lips.

  Frog's mouth hung open, not only because of the transformation but also because of her beauty. Nadiah saved him from embarrassment by gently lifting his chin and closing his mouth.

  ‘Firefox,’ she whispered, ‘are changelings.’

  Frog had just regained his composure when the woman spoke and the figure on the bench stood up.

  ‘Frog, here is the one that you seek. We have guarded him for many years. You will know him by another name, but here on Aridian he has been known only as The One.’

  The figure turned and pulled back his hood. The face that stared back at Frog was deep brown and careworn. A white scar interrupted the centre of his brow, but the man's features were unmistakable.

  Frog opened his mouth and only one word could escape.

  ‘Dad?’

  13

  Billy and Belzeera

  Baron's men were already sorting through the bodies, tending to the living and removing the dead. Although Billy tried not to dwell on the scene too much, he noticed that far more of Baron's men had survived and very few were injured.

  ‘I have a feeling that you are not all that you seem to be,’ said Baron in a lowered voice as he took Billy to one side.

  ‘What makes you say that?’ asked Billy.

  Baron leant forwards. He could feel the man's warm breath on the side of his face. ‘I know that you are not the one known as Frog.’

  ‘I … I don't know what you mean,’ stammered Billy, unsure of how to continue.

  ‘If I were to tell you that things are not always as they appear, what would that mean to you?’ said Baron.

  ‘I'd say that you were talking in riddles,’ replied Billy.

  ‘And I would say that you are very brave for a young boy.’

  ‘I don't understand,’ said Billy. ‘Am I supposed to trust you or are you supposed to trust me?’

  ‘A bit of both is required if we are to progress,’ said Baron. ‘Now, show me your feather.’

  ‘Only if you show me yours,’ said Billy stubbornly.

  A smile came over Baron's face and he produced the quill. ‘Come over to the fire,’ he instructed.

  As they crouched in front of the flames, Billy and Baron exchanged feathers and both held them over the firelight. Billy turned the feather in his hand and small writing appeared along the quill.

  LET THE DECOY FALL INTO THE HANDS OF BELZEERA PROTECT HIM WELL

  ‘I guess that my fate is in your hands,’ said Billy.

  Baron took the feather from Billy's hand and let it fall into the fire along with his, the flames engulfing them instantly as they disappeared in a flare of heat until no trace was left.

  ‘Why did you do that?’ asked Billy.

  Baron glanced around them. ‘There are still those amongst us who have not shown their true colours or loyalty.’

  ‘And what is your loyalty?’ asked Billy.

  ‘To the future of Aridian and its people. We have lived in conflict for far too long and this witch will destroy us all if we allow her.’

  ‘So, what's the plan?’ asked Billy.

  Baron studied Billy for a moment before he replied. ‘I have not met the one known as Frog, but you do his name an honour. If he is to be measured by your bravery then he will have to do much to impress me.’

  Just then, one of Baron's men appeared and, leaning forwards, whispered in Baron's ear. Baron nodded and rose.

  ‘We must leave,’ he said. ‘A group of my men are tracking Zebran and will do as much as they can to stop him from contacting Belzeera. Now, we must reach her fortress and create the diversion needed, so that those who work for the same cause of a united Aridian can bring the forces together to fight off the evil that has fallen upon us.’

  Within minutes, Billy found himself reluctantly on the back of a scorpion again with Baron seated behind him. This time there were no bonds on Billy and the conversation centred on his approaching meeting with the witch and more importantly, his survival.

  Baron told of the connectio
n that he had with Cassaria and Ameer. For many months, he had been secretly working with them to encourage a meeting between the Aridian people and the Dreden in an effort to end the centuries of conflict when, suddenly, the threat of Belzeera had descended on their Dimension.

  Billy's trust in Baron grew very quickly and he relayed the knowledge that he had learnt from Frog of Belzeera and Lord Maelstrom's plans to dominate and conquer the Dimensions.

  As they talked, unwelcome ears took in their conversation. The scorpion that they rode was, after all, an instrument of Belzeera's making and its mind was at her command. It was not long before Belzeera became aware of their intentions and by the time they saw the silhouette of her fortress on the horizon, she had formulated her own plans and her dark preparations were ready for the unknowing pair.

  The fortress towered over the desert landscape, a blood-red sky behind it heralding the rise of the oncoming suns. Either side of the opening stood gigantic burning braziers, the flames an unnatural mixture of green and orange. As the scorpion carrying Baron and Billy approached the gaping, ragged gap that served as an entrance, two enormous, grey lizard-like creatures padded out of the shadowed recess, their red tongues flicking out of their reptile mouths. Without a command, the scorpion lowered itself to the ground allowing Baron and Billy to dismount.

  ‘I'll have to tie your wrists, otherwise it will look suspicious,’ said Baron producing a strip of leather.

  Billy held out his hands and silently allowed Baron to bind them. Again, he was struck by the seriousness of the situation. Frog was right; it wasn't a game and the danger was deadly real.

  He looked up into Baron's eyes. ‘I'm scared,’ he admitted.

  ‘That's good,’ said Baron as he gave a tug of the bonds. ‘She'll see it in your face and it will help to shield our conspiracy.’

  Billy wasn't convinced. Suddenly, he wanted to go home.

  One of the creatures let out a rumbling growl of impatience and raked its clawed foreleg across the ground, gouging deep track marks into the sand.