"Oh Veget, I can breathe again. Thank you,” Brindle said after inhaling several deep breaths.
"Huff!” Keyshi snorted in reply. "Humans! I’m just a summer breeze, but if it weren’t for my kind, they couldn't even exist." Then, despite the female's objections Keyshi surveyed her body once again. Her face had become uncommonly hot, even as they were speaking, while her bare feet felt as cold as the well chamber below. Keyshi had now played enough nocturnal pranks on these humans now to know this wasn’t normal.
"Should you be hanging upside down like one of those nasty little cavern creatures?” Keyshi asked, at last.
"I - suppose not,” Brindle gasped. "These cords were cutting me in half. I was afraid one would slip up and hang me by my throat. But, I'll be okay. They'll pull me out soon."
"Well, wily wind whirlers!” Keyshi cursed. For the first time it realized that while they were talking they had nearly ascended back up to the well rim.
"What the...?” Dampy, who was standing beside Joudlier, choked as Brindle's bare feet, ankles, then legs first came into view.
"Upside down!” Joudlier proclaimed.
"So she is,” Loden observed.
"She's really quite naked!” Dampy exclaimed even louder.
"So it appears,” Loden responded cautiously. "Keep pulling. Keep pulling. That's it. Steady, now. Steady. She's almost up. Okay. Slower, now. That's it. Easy, now. Dampy, grab her ankle!” Loden ordered as the young female's feet rose to the well rim, and a puff of warm air burst in their faces.
Dampy, had a grip on one of Brindle's ankles, while Loden, at the other side of the well, had grabbed the other. In their haste to retrieve her, each tried to pull her to his side of the well, threatening to split the poor female in two.
“What are you going to do, make a wish and break me in two like the dried thistle of a veget puff?” Brindle's screamed in her mind, but all the males above heard was "whagabadthvuph!”
It was then that the two males realized what they were doing.
"Caretender, quickly, give us a hand,” Loden called. CB jumped up and saw the young female spread eagled, exposed and dangling from the ropes about her waist. “Here grab this ankle!”
Quickly, CB complied and took the ankle from Loden. Then he and Dampy carefully moved southward about the well, meeting in the middle. There, hand over hand - ankles, calves, thighs, hips - they slowly retrieved the young female from the well.
"Careful, don't raise up her head too quickly. Keep her level!” CB instructed. “That's better. Here, let's lay her down beside the well. That's it. Careful now. She's been hanging with her head down for quite awhile from the redness of her flushed face. I'm not sure what damage, if any, might have been done."
As CB and Dampy laid her on the ground, Brindle could feel the pressure in her head begin to decrease. Feeling better, she attempted to sit up, but a pain sent stabbing charges behind her eardrums.
"Easy now! Not too quickly. Give your life-fluid time to drain back down to the rest of your body,” CB instructed professionally, then asked compassionately, “Are you alright, child?”
"Yah, ah thig soh,” Brindle answered as a great flood of warmth rolled like a wave through her body. Following CB’s instruction, he and Dampy helped Brindle sit up against the well wall next to Tyter.
"Thyda...?” Brindle started, as if to ask him a question. Then without finishing, she closed her eyes and fell motionless beside him.
Keyshi had swirled about Brindle, keeping her warm, until the males lifted her from the well. Once she was in the safety of her own kind, it turned and shot back down to the piece still strapped to the well seat. There was something attached to it, but at first it wasn’t sure if it was what it was looking for. However, after studying it closely for several moments, Keyshi determined it was, despite its present appearance, the same piece it had found laying in the sand on the first day it entered Nuttinnew and sent multicolored glitters of sand high into the sky.
“Female's safe. Better let the other ropes go. Don't know what we've grabbed onto and don’t want to,” Joudlier asserted.
"I guess not, at least until our young wellwalker can tell us what it is,” Loden agreed, tentatively. "How she doing?" he asked CB.
"She seems okay - just exhausted from the ordeal and a bit flushed from hanging upside down for so long. Funny thing, though,” CB paused and shook his head as if he'd changed his mind to continue.
"What?” Loden asked, wanting him to finish his thought.
"Nothing really, I guess. It’s just that I'm surprised how warm she feels from head to toe. I’d have thought the cold dampness of the well would have chilled her to the bone."
"Yes, so would I,” Loden reflected. His mind recalled the last time he had lifted her out of the well.
"I felt a blast of warm air come out of the well just when I grabbed hold of her,” Dampy added hesitantly. He’d been afraid to say something earlier for fear everyone else would think he was getting too much sun.
"So did I,” Loden acknowledged.
An instant later another blast of warm air shot up from the well. A moment after that a spout of sand two reeds high was magically twirling sand into a small tower which began to circle around the well. The two males holding onto the ropes supporting the well crank assembly let go and ran away out of fear. The well crank dipped southward and gave out a great groan.
"Get them back here!” Loden shouted.
"Get back here, good for nothing sand sifters,” Joudlier roared. “Grab up those ropes. Hold them fast, or, by Veget, I'll dangle both of you by your pods in this pit.”
The threat was enough for the two deserters. Stopping dead in their sprints, they took a moment to stare at each other and mutually agreed that Joudlier's words were as much promise as threat. Spinning about, they quickly returned to their stations, picked up the ropes and held them fast. In the meantime, however, they had lost ground on the leaning crank assembly and no matter how hard they grunted and groaned, were unable to pull it back to its upright position.
“Dampy,” Joudlier ordered. "Get more rebels - and ropes! Go to Loden’s hut. Make sure that little fat fellow’s not up to some treachery.”
"Yes, sir,” Dampy snapped right to it, and for the first time anybody could remember, didn't give Joudlier any grief in following his orders. Before long twenty more rebels were gathered about the well with additional ropes, struggling to keep the well crank from tottering over, let alone re-position it upright. Among the turmoil, CB pulled Loden aside and related to him what the young female had told him and Wudrick in the hut.
"That explains why you’re out here with my male wellwalker,” Loden responded, sounding somewhat doubtful at the validity of the reason.
"Talking breeze?” Joudlier, who had been listening in between barking orders to the others, exclaimed, then burst into laughter. "You don't really believe...?” (hack, cough, sputter) Before he could finish his sentence a mushspoon’s worth of sand flew up from the ground and filed his face, as if in rebuke.
Then the air developed into a small whirlwind just in front of Brindle. Little by little it moved over the surface of the sand until it had created a perfectly smooth, flat surface. Next, the very tip of the whirl stretched into a thin point, no thicker than a reed, and, amazingly, began to etch a design in the smooth tablet it had just created.
Loden, Joudlier and CB stared in disbelief as they witnessed a rough image, of what was obviously the well, magically appear before them. Then, more lines were etched in which could only represent the ropes still in the well for they appeared to be attached to a board (the well seat) and some object dangling beneath it. Then, before their already amazed eyes the seat and the object began to move, as if rising out of the well.
This was accomplished by a rapid series of still images. With a quick swoosh the original image was erased from the sand, then reappeared with the swing seat further up the well. Then swoosh it disappeared again, then reappeared even further up the well. This
process became faster and faster until it looked as if the well seat with the strange attached object were smoothly rising out of the well. Eventually, the strange object was shown to be hanging just over the well entrance.
There was little in the tangible world Joudlier was not afraid to face, or even butt heads with, but such mystical, magical things were more than he could cope with. "Wh - what does it mean?” He asked with an atypical quiver in his voice. It was then he noticed he had urinated under his pullover. He stepped away from the puddle at his feet and surreptitiously kicked sand over it, hoping no one had noticed. No one had.
"I guess it means we’re supposed to keep trying to bring to the surface whatever is weighing down the ends of those ropes,” Loden deduced.
“Was afraid of that,” Joudlier said as he shifted his stance to keep the wetness of his pullover from clinging to his leg. "Pull rebels. Backs into it, now!” he barked to the others, barely disguising the apprehension in his own voice.
"Maybe humans aren't so stupid after all,” Keyshi mused, feeling rather proud of the results of its ‘pictures-in-motion’ show. It was a prank every summer breeze learns at the schoolerian, but rarely has any use for. The trick is generally taught as an historical anecdote referring to the time the notorious breeze, Nybo, taught some luckless human how to make a still pictures appear to have motion. Of course, in typical human fashion, the fellow claimed to have invented the phenomenon himself, and took to calling it a motion picture.
The funny thing was, this is the only thing Keyshi remembered out of that entire, long, boring class. Mostly, because, at the time, it didn’t even believe there really was such a thing as a human.
The well crank assembly bowed and creaked under the strain of the pull, but gradually the well seat came into view. Keyshi soared high into the air. Its moment of truth was about to arrive. Overjoyed, it swirled about the little town, racing erratically among the huts, rising high into the sky one moment, then speeding low to the ground the next. All the while gathering more and more of the warmth it would need to face the Gatekeeper in its freezing lair at the bottom of the well.
When Keyshi finally did return to the well it saw the humans raise the Key into the sunlight. Were it not for its distinct shape, Keyshi wouldn’t even have recognized it. The once brilliant, gleaming piece of many colors was now dark and blackened with patches of rustic orange, as if encrusted with centuries of iron deposits.
"Blasted rock!” Joudlier cursed as the object Brindle had tied to the swing seat rose into view. “Breaking our backs to haul up a blasted rock!”
"Tie off the ropes where they are,” Loden commanded.
"But it’s just a rock!” Joudlier complained.
"So it appears,” Loden acquiesced as the ropes were secured and he was able to let go of the well crank handle. Climbing upon the well wall, he leaned over to study the suspended object more closely. It was a rock - and not a very desirable one at that. It certainly had no beauty or obvious usefulness with its irregular edges of ins and outs.
Joudlier leaned closer to it as well and stretched out his arm as far as he could until one of his fingers barely touched it. That’s when he felt a severe pain. The object had burned him.
"Yeow!" he screamed and jerked away his hand. As he did so, another finger was cut on its rough surface.
"Be careful!” Loden admonished him. "What happened? Are you alright?” he asked as he watched the life-fluid trickle down Joudlier's hand and arm and drip to the ground.
"Caretender, you have another patient,” Loden called.
CB sprang to his feet and began to tend to Joudlier's wound. "What happened?" he asked as he studied the smooth red precursor of a burn blister on one finger and the painful, but rather insignificant, cut on the other.
"Blasted thing bit me!” Joudlier growled.
"Strangest bite I've ever seen,” CB snipped, thinking the big fellow’s wounds hardly required a caretender’s skill.
Loden returned to studying the strange object. It looked cold and lifeless, hardly anything capable of biting. However, a closer examination did reveal the encrusted bumps had some razor sharp edges. These would explain the cut on Joudlier's finger. Many of these sharp edges were also digging into the ropes which held it dangling from the well seat.
Loden had half a mind to cut the rope attaching it to the well seat and let the strange object fall back into the depths from whence it came. He probably would have done just that if it hadn't been for the strange pictures which had magically appeared in the sand. Although, he had no idea what it was all about, he was sure of one thing: anymore, hardly anything in Nuttinnew was as it seemed.
"Quickly, get more rope and cords. We must secure this - this - thing to the well crank assembly,” he ordered.
Veget cords proved worthless. They were easily severed by the object’s sharp, jagged edges. Even thicker ropes were cut in two, though their thickness gave them longer staying power.
"Why are we doing this?" one of the rebels asked as he tightened the last knot on the last rope at hand to secure the object.
"I'm not sure,” Loden answered. "However, I have a feeling we’ll all know shortly."
As Keyshi lingered high above the well, soaking in as much warmth as it possibly could, it surveyed the town below. Normal daily activities had been suspended. While the huts to the west looked deserted, Center House was surrounded by humans and to the east, a small group of males gathered in front of the hut which belonged to the wellkeeper of the east. They were making quite a commotion. All of them were talking at once and waving their hands making great gestures.
Then a small hooded one appeared at the doorway. The arguing ceased as the others turned towards the figure, as if listening to what it was saying. Shortly, it re-entered the hut, leaving the others outside to either pace about or sit down leaning against the walls. Although there were verbal exchanges among them, none rose above a whisper. Whatever had gotten them all worked up earlier, the hooded figure had pretty well put them off of it.
Keyshi had seen this small hooded character many times before, usually, slipping among the huts completely unnoticed by the humans. At times, it reminded Keyshi of itself - a bit of a prankster, perhaps. This display of influence over the other obviously larger, stronger, more dominant humans gave Keyshi a sense of personal self-confidence.
Little summer breezes are taught from first consciousness that they are inferior to all other living air beings. This is why their lives are relegated to mere prank playing. It was a firm belief their meager strength would not allow them to have any major sway in the course of world events - with the exception of motion pictures.
Of course, this wasn’t true. Many catastrophic world events were the result of some human being irritated to the verge of insanity by some prank playing summer breeze which had no concept of the series of disastrous events it was setting into motion in the wake of its playfulness. However, such events were never recorded in the annals of windstory, so the Institution of the Noble Deeds of Air Entities had no knowledge of the tremendous, lasting effects many a little summer breeze had had in the lives of other living beings.
Even so, all Keyshi was trying to do was prolong the life of one young male in order to fulfill a promise it had made to an old, dying winter wind. Seeing the influence the diminutive human had over the other, more prominent figures, gave it some sense of hope that it just might succeed in its quest against the horrific Gatekeeper to the underworld.
To the north of the tall dwelling with the bell tower, Keyshi could see the bear-like, male making his way southward through the tall veget plants from the clearing where the female was lying. Curious again, Keyshi ventured closer and discovered the female partially covered by a make-shift lean-to made from veget stalks and leaves.
"I suppose that means she's still alive,” Keyshi mused with no small amount of relief mixed with pride in his successful endeavor to save her life. "If only the young male human were so easily saved." Had Keyshi tho
ught about it, the saving of the female in the clearing actually fulfilled its promise to old Tonc, but the task before it had moved beyond moral obligation.
Its entire existence was now involved in the endeavor at hand. Keyshi was no longer risking its life for a promise, for the young female wellwalker, or even for the dying young male. Keyshi was doing this to prove to itself that a little summer breeze - this little summer breeze, anyway - had a meaningful purpose for existing, no less purposeful than any other living being.
Center House was surrounded by humans, as if under siege. One group encompassed the building facing outward. Another group encircled them facing inward. Earlier, there had been quite a lively verbal confrontation between them, but for the time being things were settled down. The noonday sun had driven many, who had gathered earlier, to retreat to their huts. Those who stayed, sat sheltered beneath make-shift coverings of dried veget branches.
The anger and animosity which had filled their voices earlier had stilled to pleasant conversations and an occasional hardy laugh. People from both east and west chatted with friends and relatives they rarely ever saw, except at festivals, for no other reason than that they lived on opposite sides of the well.
***** ***** *****
If CB hadn’t given Wudrick a sedative, it is unlikely the two rebels would have gotten him to Loden's hut and onto Loden's cot. Every fiber of Wudrick's being told him something revolutionary was about to happen in Nuttinnew and he certainly didn’t want to miss out on it.
The sedative, however, didn’t put him to sleep, neither did it ease the pain much. He felt as though he was in a dream state, seeing and hearing, but barely able to move or be conversant. Time had no relevance. From the cot he could see the little rebel called Dampy sitting down in a chair at the corner of the sleeping room nearest the door. The little fellow's deep dark eyes glared at him, as his posture appeared poised to pounce at the slightest provocation. For the first time Wudrick was glad he was unable to move at all for he truly believed almost any gesture would have been considered an act of provocation.
Pieces: Book One, The Rending Page 41