Sanctuary

by E. Edgar Price

  *****

  Benji felt heat bloom behind him. It was so close his backpack might catch fire any second, but Benji didn’t stop to check. He kept running. Behind him, the giant mouse sounded more like a charging rhino than any mouse Benji ever heard. It was hissing and screeching, heat billowing out of its mouth and brushing Benji with tendrils of flame. Benji prayed he wouldn’t trip. He prayed he could keep running long enough to evade the mouse.

  The ground rumbled beneath his feet, each pounding stride of the Acridian Mouse making it shake like an earthquake. Benji’s gait was unstable as he struggled to keep his balance. He was still having trouble digesting the fact that a huge fire breathing rodent was chasing him. First creepy light sucking trees, then bloodthirsty fairies and now mice with flaming breath. This day was turning out to be more adventurous than he bargained for.

  Once again, Benji’s breathing became ragged. He leapt a fallen log, nearly tumbling head over heels when he landed. His legs threatened to give out, but the mouse was still thundering behind him. He heard the bleaching sound preceding the flames and heat singed the air in his wake. Suddenly, his back lit up with burning pain and Benji realized his backpack had caught on fire. Crap! He couldn’t stop running or he’d end up mouse chow. Benji had to douse the fire without stopping.

  The uneven terrain turned into a boon when Benji crested a deep gully with a sloping edge. Without thinking too much, he flung himself into the ravine and rolled down the embankment with his arms tucked close. The mouse shrieked in frustration behind him. It sounded way too close. Benji felt the heat dissipating as he spun. When his body slowed, he scrambled back up and continued his race away from the rodent.

  The mushrooms thinned out, replaced by shrubs and fir trees and Benji realized the screeching call of the mouse sounded distant. It was still screaming and pounding the ground, but he didn’t think it was right behind him anymore. In a sudden burst of insight, Benji knew why. The mouse was probably bound to a restricted area like the fairies were. It couldn’t leave the forest of mushrooms! Benji slowed and listened. The shrieks were far-off, even further than before.

  Benji hoped he was right because he didn’t think he could run much more. At the very least, it seemed the ugly brute had given up the chase. If the thing ate mushrooms, Benji wondered vaguely, why was it chasing a boy? Maybe Benji looked like a walking mushroom. Maybe it just didn’t like humans. Was there such a thing as a friendly Acridian Mouse? Hazily, Benji recognized the incoherence of his thoughts. He dimly understood he was collapsed face forward in the dirt. When did that happen? Benji passed out before he could answer his own question.

  When he came to, leaves and pebbles stuck to Benji’s face. He rubbed them off and rolled over. The moon was up, shining weakly in the cloudy night sky. Benji’s head felt muddy. How had he gotten here? Where was he? Clarity achingly burst through his mental fog and memories of the Acridian Mouse had him sitting up and swiftly scanning his surroundings. Too swiftly.

  Benji’s head swam. His queasy stomach threatened to rebel. He leaned forward, breathing deeply until the nausea passed. Benji lifted his head slowly and listened intently. He didn’t see any mice the size of a Greyhound bus. He didn’t hear any either. He tried to stand, but was unsteady on his feet, so he sat down again.

  Benji looked around, trying to get his bearings. The Three Sisters rose up behind him. He could see all three of the mountains from his current vantage point, although the darkness made their silhouettes vague and shadowy. He didn’t know which direction he ran, so Benji wasn’t sure what angle he was seeing the mountains from.

  Deciding to figure that out later, Benji checked himself for new injuries. A few more scratches and bruises were added to his growing collection. None of his bones felt broken, though his muscles were screaming at him and his side ached. It felt like he was tumbled in the back of cement truck. With rocks. Indistinctly, Benji recalled throwing himself down a ravine. Why’d he do that? His backpack!

  Benji tore the pack from his shoulders to assess the damage. It wasn’t as bad as he feared and Benji relaxed again, checking it over. Most of the front pockets were torn off by fairies, so it was the straggling scraps they left behind that caught on fire. A plastic zipper on one side was melted together, but the contents were relatively unscathed. Benji was grateful he hadn’t lost any more food.

  When Benji finally felt like he could stand, he scouted the area, looking for someplace that might provide shelter. Most of his immediate surroundings were covered with packed dirt and rough tree roots. It was not an ideal place to make camp. Benji headed closer to the nearest mountain, hoping for a cave or something. Instead, he came across a thin, bubbling stream. He followed it until he left the trees and entered a muddy clearing.

  The origin of the brook was a small grotto with chilly water trickling over smooth stones. It spouted from a cascade of rocks that turned out to be one side of a steep, rocky hill. The high ground provided him with a good place to orient himself and he could clean up in the chilly spring. His legs wouldn’t carry him much farther anyway, so Benji figured this was as good a place as any to sleep. He found a flat rock and sat down in relief. The gurgling sound of water echoed in the clearing.

  After having a quick meal of granola and cereal, Benji washed himself up in the stream. The cold stung against his cuts and scrapes, but he tried to be thorough in his ministrations. Gangrene never sounded like a favorable condition and Benji didn’t want any of his injuries to get infected. While rubbing the back of his neck, Benji discovered that some of his hair was singed and the skin was raw and burned. He was worn to the bone, exhausted and hurting. He was sore and sleepy and more scared than he wanted to admit. Who knew giant mice could be so frightening? Or fairies for that matter? Why was it dragons turned out to be wimps, but some stupid light sucking tree was actually terrifying? The world was twisted.

  He unenthusiastically considered gathering some wood for a fire, but he forgot to grab matches back at the manor and wasn’t sure how to start one without them. He dragged his feet back to the flat stone and spotted a few berry bushes on the opposite side of the stream. They looked appetizing and Benji was still hungry, but he didn’t bother picking any. Who knew what they might do to him? After today, a bad case of diarrhea was probably the least horrible thing those berries could do. He pointedly avoided them and stayed on his side of the brook.

  Sitting on the cool stone, Benji contemplated his options. He needed to wake up early in the morning and get going as soon as possible. All this running most likely put him off course and he couldn’t afford to waste too much time. Benji didn’t want anyone catching up with him. His Aunt and Uncle wouldn’t understand and he was sure they would try to prevent him from getting to Thana no matter how much he protested. He was a smart kid, but Grandpa and the others would never listen to him. He’d probably just end up in trouble.

  Benji changed the batteries in his flashlight and used it to rummage in the backpack until he found the few books he brought with him. He was glad to find them undamaged. The smallest book was the map key. The two larger ones were his handbook and the untitled book of Immortals.

  Benji checked his information in the artificial brightness of the flashlight. The nearest mountain was the home of the one with supersonic hearing, Ceice. She didn’t speak and wasn’t likely to be helpful. The second mountain housed Vidan. She was the Immortal who drained life. According to the book, just touching her might kill him. That wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. He would avoid both of them. On the map, they each had a boundary line that curved around the bottom of their respective mountains, which meant even hiking along the base was a dangerous proposition.

  The third sister, Thana, was the one Benji needed to get to. She had visions of the dying and was supposed to be as crazy as the other two, but she could talk and she didn’t have a curse that could kill him. Thana was his best hope. He knew he was probably going to have to give her something if he wanted to get Mom back. That was the
sketchiest part of his plan, as he had no idea what an Immortal would want in return for bringing someone back from death.

  Benji assumed he would be asked to do something in return; a favor for a favor. Maybe the Necromancer needed him to perform some task, like go on a quest for something valuable. Find a magic sword; isn’t that what they always wanted in fairytales: magic swords or love potions? He hoped she didn’t ask him to do anything like kill her sisters. He was brave, but he didn’t think he was that brave and he was pretty sure there was absolutely no way to kill an Immortal. That’s why they were called Immortals, they lived forever.

  Benji didn’t really care what the woman asked of him, though. He’d find a way to pay her and get his mom back. It was what he had to do. Part of him felt like he was meant to do it. Like it was his destiny or something. Grandpa kept cautioning him not get any ideas about being a hero, but that was because Grandpa was scared. Everyone at the manor was so scared of the fantastic, of magic. They would rather be safe and secure than risk their necks to do something important. Benji wasn’t scared. Sure, he had a few close calls today, but the way he figured it, he could be hit by a bus or eaten by a fire breathing mouse. Either way, he’d be just as dead. And the mouse thing would at least sound interesting in his obituary. The bottom line was this: Benji wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing when a little courage could change everything.

  He closed his books and put them away. He searched for a level spot to lie down on and found a relatively soft patch of moss and dirt. Settling in, Benji spread out the two blankets he brought and used his backpack for a pillow. It made a hard lumpy pillow, but Benji reasoned it was better than sleeping on a rock. It wasn’t the most comfortable spot in the world. It would have to do, though. Benji tried to set the alarm on his watch, but he never read the instructions and gave up after a minute or two. The sun would wake him in the morning anyway. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind and relax despite his surroundings.

  The night sounded vaguely foreign. Benji wasn’t used to whatever lived in Colorado. He wasn’t used to the chill that still clung to everything even in the middle of summer. The humid heat of the Gulf coast was better than the cold up here. He’d even take the mosquitoes back if he could. Maybe with Mom back they would all go home. He liked the farm and the sanctuary was cool and everything, but life would be infinitely better if it would all go back to the way it was before. Well, perhaps without Dad.

  Benji wondered if his father called today. It would serve him right if he finally telephoned only to find Benji wasn’t there to answer. Benji knew his mother would be furious with Dad once she found out what happened in the last year. Dad ignoring them. Dad leaving them. Dad forgetting about them. Mom wasn’t going to like the situation she came back to. But the important thing, Benji thought, was that she was coming back.

  In spite of his exhaustion, Benji couldn’t sleep. There were faint sounds of snuffling as well as insects calling to each other in the darkness. He couldn’t remember reading about any magical poisonous insects, but at this point he wasn’t taking anything for granted. He jumped when he heard frogs croaking close by. They must live near the spring, since they sounded so near. Benji hoped he wouldn’t wake up with one on his face or something equally gross. With that thought comforting him, he finally fell into a fitful rest.