It was all Loden could do to keep from laughing. However, Dampy was right on one point: there were many important matters at hand needing immediate attention, which were beyond the life of one individual, even the disappearance of the female wellwalker. After all, where could she go in the little town of Nuttinnew that she couldn’t be found.
"Well then, shall we go to the well and see what trouble my nemesis has conjured up for me now?"
On cue the Hooded One opened the hut door, wind and sand, again, blew into the room. Dampy and Joudlier exited first, with curses matching the ferocity of the torment engulfing them. Loden stepped to the door next, but paused beside the Hooded One and asked, “You’ll search for the young female?"
"I’ve already begun."
***** ***** *****
The little town of Nuttinnew was a mess. Sand was flying nearly everywhere, and where it wasn’t, it soon would be. The air swirl Keyshi had set into motion was now a chaotic cumulation of competing currents collapsing into vacuums created by other currents, thus creating even more vacuums for other currents to collapse into creating in just a short time a far greater force than Keyshi had originally hoped for, and certainly one with more than it could control.
To preserve its own existence, the summer breeze fell behind a rising current and soared high above the valley floor, into the calm stratus above the turmoil, where it could gather warmth while keeping itself intact.
Never had there been such a storm in Nuttinnew. Under any other circumstances, the inhabitants of this quiet, little town would surely have been safely tucked away in the comfort of their own huts. Today, however, everyone was out and wandering about in mass confusion due to the prompting by Loden's rebels and urging by Pentalope's ambassadors. To most Nuttinnewians the whole experience was much like a dream from which they expected to awaken at any moment.
Warmed and refreshed, Keyshi circled high above the chaos, looking for a way to go down through those tumultuous winds in one piece, to re-enter the well and accomplish its task. Having very little personal experience to draw on in such a situation, it remembered Old Tonc’s description of a hurricane. If only Keyshi could get all this disorganized air heading in same direction around the well. If what the old wind said was true, there would be a calm in the center, called the eye for some reason, and the air surrounding the well would be as still as death itself, while all around, the dust ridden twirling wind would rage on.
Keyshi knew it couldn't face the powerful, swirling air currents in a direct confrontation, so it had to approach this endeavor as just one more subtle prank. Starting at the rolling foothills which maintained the storm's perimeter, Keyshi, slowly, began to race along the hill tops, lightly glazing the storm’s edge currents. Little by little the outer border of the storm began to flow in the direction of Keyshi’s nudging. Gradually, gust by gust, all the air currents in the valley followed suit, racing around and around, forming a giant wall of wind and sand which encircled the entire town.
"Holy hurricane!” Keyshi exclaimed as it moved into the calm eye. "I hope I know what I'm doing!" Which, of course, it didn't.
The Nuttinnewians soon found themselves in the midst of a clear, hot, summer day. The sky overhead was blue, and the sun was beating upon them with its usual harshness. If the entire community had not been surrounded by a dense wall of swirling sand, it might have been considered a day like any other day.
"Ah, at last!” Pentalope screeched as she hacked and spit sand from her mouth. "To the well, quickly, everyone go to the (hack) well!"
Pentalope tried to race ahead but the weight of her mantle of pieces was more than she could bear. Even with Mardrith's and Fleetra's help, each step made her feel like she was sinking in quicksand.
Nearby, Bourg continued to rehearse what Pentalope had taught him to say and believe. “Loden is a traitor! Loden is a traitor!”
"Bourg, it’s time for your most important responsibility.” Pentalope grinned a wide toothy grin, which was not only sardonic in nature, but exhibited evidence of having been a great sand strainer.
As all of western Nuttinnew watched in astonishment, the western wellkeeper bent down on one knee, allowing their honorable mayor to mount his broad, burly shoulders. The weight that came to rest on his shoulders surprised him, but it was the difference of a gnat and a fly for this human beast of burden. So, with little effort he raised from the ground.
Initially, Pentalope tottered back and forth, unsure if her idea had been such a good one, after all. Grabbing the wellkeeper's thick black beard, she hung on for dear life. Then, digging her heels into his ribs, she commanded with a shout, "To-oo-oo - the-e - we-e-ellllll!
Once Bourg was back up on his two feet, he grabbed Pentalope's bare thighs to steady her balance on his shoulders. Normally, this whole episode would have killed the wellkeeper with embarrassment, but that was a different Bourg at a different time. This Bourg had no recollection of the shy, naive, male he had once been.
As Loden and the rest of the eastern Nuttinnewians approached the well they could see Pentalope and her entourage approaching from the north. It was a most impressive spectacle. Pentalope’s head was twice the height of any other. Her mantle of many pieces flowed down over her body, reflecting a myriad of glittering rays which danced about her as if announcing her coming.
As she drew closer, the reason for her elevated stature became evident. Between her thighs strode, what many considered to be a most hideous beast of burden. They knew, of course, that it was Bourg, the western wellkeeper, but his gentle demure had always given away his humanity. This, however, was not the same gentle giant they had always known. This one no longer lumbered along, but trudged forward with deep set, dark emotionless eyes which glare straight ahead with a portent of ill intent.
Bourg’s detractors may not have been all that wrong in their assessment of him, for he had not been left unaffected by Pentalope’s mantle as it draped over his body as well. The more Pentalope's thighs quivered with excitement on either side of Bourg's head, the more the power of the pieces which adorned the mantle consumed his own flesh. He felt as one with her. He was her physical strength. She was his mental prowess.
For Pentalope, the physical strength and power between her legs completed her. For the first time ever, she truly felt invulnerable. In that moment, Pentalope, the she-male, ruled the world, or a least, the world as she knew it. If ever there was an entity worth worshiping out of fear, surely the union of these two were it, and, in that moment, they were worshiped as one, as her ambassadors led the people of the west in chants of her praise.
The spectacle had even shaken Loden. The two headed creature standing before him glistened in the sunlight as an impenetrable force. He had lost Bourg, his last hope of bringing all of Nuttinnew together under his vision of future change and progress. Now, he must maintain what little grip he had on the wills and minds of the people of the east. If his fellow rebels were doing their job, the people would follow - blindly, if necessary. However, as Loden felt his own self-confidence waver, so too, he knew, that those of lesser wills would be taken in by this false diety.
In an act of desperation, he jumped upon the well wall and faced the glittery creature. Although he was now taller than she, he remained dimmed by her radiance. In a moment of prosaic panic he flung himself around toward the east and searched through the crowd. Why had he sent the Hooded One away? Then to his relief, he saw the small, cloaked, frail figure mingling among the people, encouraging the other rebels to keep faith and continue to spread among the people of the east their message of a better life.
"Thank Veget!" he prayed. "At least one of us has not been distracted by this illusion."
This truth fortified Loden's faith in the cause and in himself. Spinning back around toward the two-headed creature, he defiantly roared, "All that glitters is not precious! You may shine in the sunlight, but beneath your superficial facade you are nothing but day old mush in an unwashed bowl - worthless to many, yet a stench to a
ll.”
Ignoring Pentalope, Loden bent down and addressed Bourg. "My friend, my dear friend, you are like a brother to me. How has this evil female tricked you into this humiliation? Drop that useless sackage and join with me, for the good of all Nuttinnew,” Loden pleaded. However, Bourg’s eyes remained fixed on the ground before him. “Bourg, Bourg don’t you recognize me? It’s me, your friend, Loden.”
For the next few moments, Bourg seemed uneasy, but still didn’t raise his eyes, even when he opened his mouth to speak. “Loden is a traitor!”
***** ***** *****
Absolutely exhausted, Keyshi soared high above the eye of the storm. Looking down, it could see the people of Nuttinnew again gathering about the well. And, again, Keyshi could feel the hot, dark, heavy molecules of anger begin to infuse its being. Pulling itself together into a tight ball to make penetration more difficult, it entertained a notion to just forget the whole matter.
"These humans are the most depressing creatures I have ever encountered. They thrive on their own anger and the fears of others. I think all the entities of the world would have been better off if they had never been allowed to evolve,” Keyshi thought, then spotted Brindle standing dangerously close to the wall of wind surrounding the human dwellings She appeared to be searching for something within, or beyond it.
"Mamu! Dadu! Can you hear me? Where are you? I know you’re in there. I can hear you! I can hear you - screaming! Oh, Mamu! Dadu! It's me, Brindle. Can you hear me? Answer me!"
It was only then, Keyshi noticed the strange whining and moaning sounds coming from the swirling storm. One instant it was near; the next, it was far - then near again, then far. Occasionally, Keyshi could have sworn it heard a human phrase or two. Of course, that would be impossible, because, as any little summer breeze could tell you, random air currents can’t talk. They’re not sentient beings, and so incapable of performing any purposeful act. Still, it could swear, it heard human words.
Keyshi listened carefully as it glided down near to the young female. Immediately, Brindle sensed its presence and began to spin around in circles searching for some sign of it.
"What have you done, you horrible little prankster?” Brindle screeched.
Keyshi came to a swirling halt. It hadn’t expected such a rude greeting. In fact, it hadn’t expected any kind of greeting at all. “How does she know I'm here?” it wondered.
Brindle slowed her reeling about as she clutched a flickering beam of light beneath her pullover. When she faced the invisible breeze, the light blinked rapidly. When she faced away, it barely flickered. In no time Brindle located where Keyshi was hovering. Instantly, the beam flashed brightly, then it was gone. Keyshi had thought she was holding something in her hands, but when the light went out it couldn’t see anything there. All it could see were her two hands clasping what appeared to be a third tote beneath her pullover. It was a puzzle to be sure, but not one Keyshi had time to figure out.
If Keyshi would have had eyes, Brindle would have been staring directly into them. "Must you kill the two I am obligated to love in your effort to save the one I love freely?" she demanded.
Keyshi was beside itself. What was she talking about? It hadn’t killed anyone. "I never!" it indignantly protested.
"No, maybe you haven't yet, but how long do you think my mamu and dadu can fly around Nuttinnew before something terrible happens to them?”
Keyshi said nothing. It didn't know what to say. It still didn't understand. Somehow Brindle sensed this.
"You don't know, do you? You don’t know what I'm talking about? Can't you hear their cries for help? Listen!” Brindle turned away and faced the wall again. Keyshi moved close and listened.
"I don't hear anything,” Keyshi whispered in Brindle's ear.
"Oh, no, something terrible’s happened to them already."
"No wait, what's that sound?” Keyshi interrupted.
Brindle listened for a moment. "It's them! It is them!" she exclaimed.
Keyshi listened again. Maybe it heard something. Maybe it didn't. It certainly didn’t want to anger its favorite human any more than she already was.
"You do hear them don't you?” Brindle cried. "You said you heard them before."
"I - don't know for sure. That is, I think I did, then - but now, I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know? Either you hear them or you don't.” Brindle was irate.
"Well, I might hear something, but now, uh, let me see. What exactly is it, I am supposed to hear?"
"Voices. Voices, you stupid, silly, prankster. They’re screaming their lungs out."
"Hm,” Keyshi considered again what it might or might not be hearing. "Now, what exactly are they screaming?"
"What are they screaming? What are they screaming? What do you think they’re screaming? They’re screaming . . . uh. . . ," Brindle paused as she considered what she was hearing. Then an angry frown spread across her face. "They’re blaming each other for losing some of their precious pieces in the wind storm and - but agreeing that it was, somehow, all my fault."
"Humph!" Keyshi puffed. The more the little summer breeze was around humans, the more it didn't like them.
"You have to go in there and get them out,” Brindle said sternly.
"What?” Keyshi puffed. "It sounds to me like they're better off in there and you're better off out here without them. Besides, if I went in there, it would likely be the end of me. That's for sure. Then, how would I be able to help that poor Tee-dah?"
"Tyter!" With just the saying of his name, Brindle could feel the essence of his being struggling between staying within its chamber of fleshly horror, or releasing itself to whatever might lie beyond.
"Yes, him, Tyter. It looks to me like you'll have to choose between my trying to save him or my trying to save those two in the whirlwind. In either case, it’s bound to be the death of me,” Keyshi offered in its best interpretation of a solemn sounding human voice. “Curse you, Tonc!" it mumbled within its breath.
Brindle was torn between her love of choice and her love of obligation. She clutched the piece between her totes. Every fiber of her being told her Tyter must live if the future of Nuttinnew was to run its proper course. She must allow the little summer breeze to save his life - not just for herself, but for everyone - even those who had always treated her with disdain.
"What will happen to my parents, if we leave them as they are in the wind?" she asked.
"I don't know,” Keyshi answered honestly.
"Will they be killed?" she asked with suppressed emotion.
"Maybe,” Keyshi answered simply, wishing it could have said something more encouraging.
Brindle had the same wish. She cursed destiny for bringing her to this crossroad. “For Veget's sake, I’m barely more than a child! A young female of sixteen shouldn’t have to make such a horrendous choice.” She wallowed in self pity.
The roar of angry voices arose above the roar of the wind, espousing every manner of vile, verbal assaults, assailing Brindle's ears, filling her mind with unbearable torment. In desperation she jerked open her pullover, grasped the warm pulsating piece at her breasts, and cast it to the ground with a flurry of unintelligible curses. Instantly, the voices in her head fell silent. Falling to her knees, she buried her head in the neck of her pullover and sobbed.
Keyshi was not unsympathetic to the condition of his favorite human, but its attention had become firmly focused on the strange, glowing object at her feet. It looked just like the object it had discovered on the first night it entered Nuttinnew. Moving closer, Keyshi began to swirl around it, tossing grains of sand into the air. Instantly, the air just above it burst into a brilliant array of glittering, multicolored sparkles.
"Where did you get this?" Keyshi asked, in a tone of hushed anxiety.
"Huh?” Brindle groaned in response.
"Where did you get this thing - this strange piece? Tell me, quickly. This may be the answer to the dilemma I’m facing in trying to save your fr
iend’s life."
Brindle raised her head and looked at the fountain of lights, then down at the glowing piece. "I - don't know - near the well, I guess."
"The well? But, if this is what I think it must be, how did it come to be...?" Keyshi continued to study the object. Then it remembered the fresh, irregular marking on the young male’s buttock. The design was exactly the same. Yes, Keyshi was sure of it.
All the pieces were falling into place. The young male must have found it in the well and brought it out with him and, somehow, got his buttock burned by it. But what would such an object be doing in the well unless - unless it was a key to the gate of the underworld - the breach in security the commander had mentioned. It even sounded suspicious when it saw the Gatekeeper’s accounting records, but then its inquiry was interrupted by the arrival of the new apprentice.
“Twisting tornado!” Keyshi screamed aloud. “The Gatekeeper was lying. His key is missing and this is it! By Fate, it’s got to be! Surely the Gatekeeper would do anything to get it back. Anything?” Keyshi wondered. Would it dare venture to the surface to retrieve it? Not likely - not unless something provoked it beyond all reason. And such goading could only be accomplished by a masterful, undaunted, devilish prankster like myself.
Just the thought of it excited Keyshi so much it swirled about and threw sparkling sand higher and higher into the air, lighting up the entire area with a brilliantly colored, towering display. It wasn’t long before several people at the well saw it and began to shout.
"Look! Look to the east. What is it?"
No one ventured a guess until a child, standing nearby the lean-to cloaking CB and Wudrick, cried, "It's a monster, just like in the song.”
"A monster!” shouted a voice that seemed to come out of nowhere.
“A monster! It’s a monster!" shouted another and the words transformed into a cry of panic which spread throughout the gatherings on both sides of the well.
Pieces: Book One, The Rending Page 35