She gave a quick jerk to the signal rope. "Stop!" The descent immediately halted, cuasing the well seat beneath her gave out a splintering sound. Quickly, she shifted her weight to her other cheek. The glow from below had become brighter, casting her shadow on the well wall in front, stretching upward. The silhouette she saw was that of a large, elongated, grotesque, marionette.
Brindle twisted her head around to look over her shoulder. To her surprise she found herself looking though a small entrance into a rather large underearthian chamber, being brightly illuminated by the glow of the piece.
"By Veget!" she gasped, even more surprised, for she had been in this chamber before - with Tyter - in a daydream. The recognition made her body give a great shiver. The board beneath her gave off yet another cracking sound and gave way slightly, causing her to lose her balance. As she fell backward, the signal rope jerked in her right hand. Above, Loden interpreted it to be an emergency signal, and Brindle felt herself begin to swiftly rise.
The cord tying the glowing piece to the well seat snapped taut again as the glowing piece was jerked out of the water. Then as if in a mood of defiance, it gave began to glow all the brighter and, again, the seat beneath her emitted a cracking sound as it strained under the opposing force. This strange object Brindle had just witnessed so delicately floating on the surface of the water, like a veget puff on the wind, now hung beneath her with the weight of a boulder.
The glow burst into sporadic flashes of bright light, as the piece struggled like a fish out of water to return to the environment where it belonged. However, after it spent its initial energy, it hung like a dead weight; tired and exhausted - and, perhaps, resigned to its lot with Fate. In an instant, the well chamber fell black, as the piece below now hung there as dormant and lifeless as stone.
Brindle could feel the tension on the seat beneath her. She wondered why the board hadn’t yet snapped in two. She was sure it would before she reached the surface. As she rose past the ninety-first stone level, she could see the full circle of the opening above. It was as bright as the sun itself, causing her to divert her eyes. Still, just knowing it was there provided her with some comfort. Above, CB strained at the crank handle, as the perspiration from his forehead dripped into his eyes. Glancing over at Loden, he was relieved to see him struggling with the crank handle as well. However, the look on the wellkeeper's face gave him little comfort. It was grimaced with confusion and anguish, indicating this current struggle with the well seat below was no ordinary event. Something was terribly wrong and although the caretender had no idea what exactly it was, his heart was flooded with pity for the young female at the other end of their endeavor.
"Easy! Easy, now! I don't know why there’s so much strain on these ropes. At first I thought the seat might be caught on something, but see, it’s still rising. Blast! It just doesn't make any sense. It's like we’re trying to pull a boulder out of the belly of the earth, instead of raising a puff of a youngster,” Loden burst out in frustration, then paused momentarily to rest from the strain of cranking the handle, as he stared into the darkness of the well shaft.
Taking advantage of the short respite, CB, too, stared into the blackness of the well, and wondered if Loden had seen the sudden flashes of light, deep within its depths. In truth, he wasn't even sure if he’d really seen them, himself. Being unaccustomed to physical exhaustion, he first thought he was merely fainting. Since Loden hadn't mentioned then, he made no mention of them either - not wanting to appear more the fool than he already did.
Loden had seen the flash below, however, over the years he’d become so accustomed to Bourg's reactions to such strange events, that without him, he had no avenue of response, and, therefore, remained silent. It was during this awkward silence that he realized, for the first time, just how intertwined he and his fellow wellkeeper’s relationship had become over the years. But now was not the time for such sentimental rumination.
For Brindle down below, the ascent was taking an eternity. She felt trapped between the forces pulling her from above and from below. With each level of the ascent the piece resisted, until the well seat was arched like an inverted skybow.
Fear often makes normal living creatures do very un-normal things, which they would never normally consider doing, under normal circumstances.
At about the sixtieth level, Brindle released her right hand from the swing seat rope and reached down and grabbed hold of the cord connecting the obstinate piece to the seat. A part of her mind was sure that what she was about to do was the wrong thing to do, but fear of falling back down into the well and being killed instantly, or worse, dying slowly, overruled her better judgement.
Running her fingers along the rope, she reached down as far as she dared, until she came to the knot. Her one-handed attempt at untying the knot proved futile. The rope had gotten wet drifting in the water, and now it was being drawn even tighter under the strain. Pulling herself upright onto the swing seat, she let out a deep sigh of disappointment. There was nothing she could do now. Fate had taken things out of her hands, and in a way this comforted her. Relieving herself of the responsibility for her current situation, lessened the pressure on her and actually allowed her mind to think more clearly.
She emitted another deep sigh. This time of relief. She was glad she hadn’t been able to release the piece. With it still attached, there was still hope that Tyter could be saved. She wondered if the little summer breeze was having a better go of it than she was.
***** ***** *****
After returning from the well and her second major confrontation with Loden, Pentalope laid luxuriously in her bath, while Fleetra prepared for her faithful beast of burden several large bowls of veget mush - a week’s ration for Wudrick and Pentalope combined. One thing unchanged with Bourg’s transformation was his voracious appetite.
Meanwhile, Mardrith stared out the privy window as she allowed the sun to heat the veget massage oils she had placed on its sill. She had purposely turned away from Pentalope, not out of modesty, nor respect, but because the sight of Pentalope's scrawny form made her feel ill. Or maybe, it was just the knowledge that Fleetra found it so irresistible that sickened her. In either case, she stood staring out the window with her back to the tub, trying her best to quell the turmoil in her stomach.
While the sight of the wall of sand encompassing the entire town should certainly have been enough to distract her from her thoughts, it didn’t. She had never given much thought to the bland rolling hills surrounding Nuttinnew. Somehow, hills of sand or walls of sand were pretty much the same to one who had spent most of her life closeted away in her hut. She was like a veget seed in a mush pot - trapped in a place where the only escape was the inevitable, ultimate determination of Fate.
"Escape!" Was this the thought of a lunatic - or a rebel? She wondered if she was either, or both.
"Mardrith - a towel!” Pentalope ordered.
Slowly, Mardrith nonchalantly reached to her right, clutched a towel and, without looking, held it back toward Pentalope.
"Do you expect me to come over there, dripping wet, and get it from you? I will have a talk with Fleetra about your attitude.” This, as Pentalope knew it would, brought the inattentive servant out of her trance. Immediately, Mardrith spun around, her face flushed and contorted with hatred as she glared at Pentalope, now standing naked in the middle of the tub.
Pentalope watched her reddening complexion and relished it. “I see my nakedness excites you. I wonder what Fleetra would say about that," the venomous words exuded from Pentalope's thin, taut lips.
Mardrith could feel her face burn with rage. "How dare she even suggest that anything about her could possibly excite me!” she thought and envisioned herself lunging at Pentalope, pushing her face under the bath water, and sitting on her head until ... until ... but instead Mardrith stepped toward Pentalope and handed her the towel.
"Why, thank you, Mardrith. This is really very sweet of you." The words oozed out in a sickeningly, thick, s
weet tone. But in a flash Pentalope’s demure changed. "Now, go tell Fleetra, I'm ready for my massage!" she ordered. "Oh, and don't bother to return with her. We would prefer to enjoy our more intimate moments in private. I’m sure you of all people appreciate the privacy of an intimate moment,” Pentalope purred with the same tormenting smile Mardrith had seen far too often lately.
Mardrith could take no more. She dashed from the room. Half way down the hall she slipped into a closet and vomited herself to tears. These she took as a sign of weakness, and she hated herself for being so helpless. Worse, she wasn’t even sure if it was the intense emotional pain or the loathing anger that caused her to lose control. She did know she didn't want either Pentalope or Fleetra to know about it. To Fleetra it would be a sign of defeat - to Pentalope, a sign of victory.
As Pentalope stood in her tub, drying herself (for she had made Mardrith sufficiently angry as not to be trustworthy), a burst of wind shot in through the open window, encircled the room twice and engulfed her body, then retreated out through the same window.
The air which had engulfed her was quite cold compared to the hot air already trapped in the stifled room. The rapid evaporation of the small water droplets on her moist skin created a series of uncontrollable convulsions throughout her body to such an extent that her legs suddenly collapsed, toppling her out of the tub. Her head struck the wooden floor planks with such force, it bounced twice. Down the hallway at the top of the stairs, which Fleetra had just climbed, it sounded like an echo.
Upon hearing the sounds, Fleetra ran to the privy room and found Pentalope lying on the floor, violently quivering. Grabbing up several towels, she covered her master’s nakedness, then knelt down beside her. Pentalope’s head was arched backward in an unusual position which could not have been comfortable, so Fleetra slipped her hand under it and carefully lifted it. A trickle of warm, red fluid oozed through her fingers. Already Fleetra could feel its invisible source swelling beneath Pentalope’s long, matted hair.
"Mardrith, help!” Fleetra shouted toward the open door as she pressed her hand as a compress over the open wound.
“Mar - drith? She - she tried to - to kill me!” Pentalope groaned as her eyes rolled deliriously about their sockets.
"Oh, no, no! I'm sure you’re mistaken. Mardrith wouldn't hurt....”
Pentalope’s eyes grew wild, and even in her weakened, bewildered state, she found the where-with-all to reach up with her left hand and grab Fleetra by the throat, choking her. Fleetra tried to pull away, but Pentalope's boney grip was too firm.
"Mardrith - left the window open. Tried to kill me, but I cannot die - I - have - destin - eeee.”
Pentalope's eyes rolled back, and her neck muscles relaxed allowing her head to settle limply back into Fleetra's supporting hand. Her own grip on Fleetra's throat gradually relaxed.
Fleetra coughed and puffed, as she fell forward across Pentalope, whose quivering had nearly ceased. This is how they lay when Mardrith arrived at the door in answer to Fleetra’s call. For a moment she froze in shocked silence at what she perceived to be an intimate moment between two lovers - one being her own.
Fleetra sensed her presence and turned toward the door. "Go, Mardrith. Go away, now!” Fleetra cried, her voice choked out the words. The damage to her vocal chords made the words sound hard and harsh, and although they were somewhat difficult to understand, Mardrith knew Fleetra was ordering her to go away - and, go away, she would - forever.
Mardrith's brain pounded in agony. Her mind struggled to erase the vision of the female she most loved engaged in intimate embrace with the female she most loathed. Now, she loathed them both. Perhaps, loathing Fleetra even more. For Fleetra’s disloyalty had erupted within her an explosion of rancorous emotions, shattering the collage of memories which were the essence of her life.
Mardrith ran down the stairs and out onto the front porch which was still encompassed by Pentalope's faithful followers. Looking into their faces, she, like Pentalope, loathed them all. Running back into the house, she dashed past the stairs and down the long hall which lead to the back door via the eating room. Barging into the latter, she encountered the big, burly, wellkeeper, sitting at the small table cluttered with several dirty mush bowls. Unsure what to expect of this once gentle giant now that Pentalope had turned him into something less than human, she froze where she stood near the hall door.
She had always had a secret fondness for the wellkeeper of the west. Day after day, while collecting water rations for herself and Fleetra, she had looked between his bushy eyebrows and hairy cheeks into the dark, blue, sensitive eyes which always exuded such a depth of compassion.
In the ambience of this reminiscence, Mardrith flung herself onto the floor at his side. "Help me. Help me, please,” she cried. Bourg, who had thus far ignored her, slowly turned from his eating and looked down at her. "You must help me,” she cried again as she looked up into those same deep eyes. But what she now saw could no way be construed as compassion. These eyes were clouded with anger, hazed with confusion. She studied them for a moment, then bolted back in fear. It was as if everything once good in her world had suddenly soured like day old mush.
Mardrith jumped to her feet and ran back into the long hall. There were people everywhere - Pentalope's people. Finally, she threw herself on the floor in the small recess beneath the staircase. There she huddled herself into a protective ball. Suddenly, Bourg's massive face shot down towards her, startling her. Reactively, she sprang backwards, slamming her back into the wall behind her. A snapping sound filled her ears as the wall gave way, opening into a small crawl space. Without reasoning the purpose for its existence, Mardrith fled through it, backwards, in an inverted crawl.
Bourg lowered himself to his knees and watched her squirm away. “Come back here!" he shouted. His voice roared down the narrow passage. It was enough to scare Mardrith beyond all other fears. As much as crawling backwards down an unknown passageway frightened her, the thought of Bourg coming after her was far worse. Scrambling even faster, her eyes remained fixed on Bourg’s silhouette as he tried to squeeze his massive frame into the small opening. Fortunately, he was too large to fit.
However, before Mardrith had time to rejoice, her swiftly moving head collided with an immovable object. She had reached the end of the passage which abruptly curved upward into a short shaft. Clearing her brain, she could see that Bourg had given up the pursuit. The thought did not elude her that she might still be in danger. In all probability, he might have gone to get someone smaller to come after her and take her back to Pentalope.
Was she trapped? Not if she could help it. Contorting her flexible body, she quickly turned about in the small space. Then drawing her knees to her chest, she rocked back as far as she could, and with a great grunt, shot her feet upward like a puff from a pod, slamming them hard against the planks at the inclined end of the shaft. Immediately, she was bathed in the bright light of the morning sky.
Popping her head up through the opening, she discovered she had emerged just beyond the first rows of veget stalks in the Great Northern Veget Field. Scrambling through the opening, she jumped to her feet and raced among the tall veget plants. Their dry leaves slapped against her bare flesh, tattooing her pale skin with red stripes that quickly turned to purple welts. She wondered if, they too, were conspirators with Fate to make her life an unending misery.
***** ***** *****
Keyshi didn't know why it had flown into the big human dwelling just north of the well, but it was glad it had. Even in a cooled state, summer breezes cannot pass up the opportunity to play a quick prank - and leaving that tall, skinny, naked, female human shivering in her tub of water seemed like a good one. Besides, there was something about that particular human Keyshi didn’t like, although it wasn’t sure what it was.
After leaving Center House, Keyshi soared high into the sky, over the swirling wall of wind and dust it had created, and out among the surrounding, sandy, rolling hills. In due time its temperat
ure rose back to normal, and then some. Satisfied it had attained sufficient additional warmth to re-enter the well, it flew back over the high wall of wind and sand, then drifted down into the calm heart of the little town of Nuttinnew.
Although, intending to go straight to the well, Keyshi became distracted by the sight of a lone female racing through the field of veget to the north of the two story dwelling. No sooner had she disappeared among the leaves, when the large, hairy human, it had discovered in the clearing earlier, raced out the back door and disappeared among the tall plants as well. Needless to say, Keyshi’s curiosity was piqued. Promising itself to only take a quick look, Keyshi swerved toward the field.
From its overhead vantage point Keyshi could soon see them both charging through the neatly aligned rows of vegetation. With magnificent agility the female zigged and zagged unpredictably among and through the rows of plants, while the big male appeared more purposeful, as he awkwardly burst through several rows, then stop to listen.
Upon determining the direction of the sounds of the female’s movement, he would alter direction, then barge through several more rows toward those sounds. Unfortunately for him, while he was on the move, his massive girth and oafish movements made too much noise for him to hear the female’s sounds. Thus, when he got to where he had last heard her, she was gone. Generally speaking, however, both were heading in the same northern direction, and miraculously, if each continued on the same erratic course, both would eventually end up at the same place.
Tiny droplets of life-fluid trickled from the many small cuts lacerating Mardrith’s fair skin, as she came to a sudden halt and stood stunned and shaken by the sudden lack of being thrashed. She had entered some sort of clearing amidst the field, which looked as if a boulder had crushed the plants in her path. Stepping into the clearing, she found herself, surrounded on all sides by tall, vertical stalks of the veget plants. They were the very kind she had just raced through, but to her frantic mind, all she could perceive were the bars of a cage - a cage in which she was trapped.
Pieces: Book One, The Rending Page 39