by Mark Boutros
Red filled Morcoli’s eyes and she cackled. ‘I don’t know any cure! I used one of the oldest manipulation techniques. Tell people you have something they want, and they’ll do pretty much anything depending on how badly they want it.’
Oaf stared at her. He took slow breaths and looked at Questions. He jammed Morcoli’s soup into her mouth, and as her eyes began to fade he took a sack and filled it with all the jars of herbs, potions and a loaf of bread.
Oaf, Questions and Tortured Soul walked out of Morcoli’s door and Oaf blocked it with petrified creatures, leaving her with only the bucket of poisonous soup as food.
'She can rot in a cell made of her prisoners,' he said.
Oaf used a rope to pull everyone up through the way they came. He pulled the humped horse up and they mounted it, leaving the village of the petrified. Karl lay over the back of the horse, and Questions held the sack of jars that hopefully contained the answer.
36
Arazod perched on his statue on the King’s Tower, abusing all of Flowforn with a night of singing. Sabrinia stared up at him from her cage, her eyes sore with tears, wishing she could stomp his beak into the pebbles.
She dabbed her unwashed face with a wet cloth, not caring that water dropped onto her blue gown. She threw the cloth back in the water bucket she’d been permitted. Arazod didn’t want his future wife looking dirty and he’d told her to cheer up, but since he had described how he had killed Karl, Sabrinia had forgotten how to be cheery.
A Flowfornian man polished the beak of Arazod’s giant statue. Exhausted, he fell to his death with a thud and crack, right in front of Sabrinia’s cage.
She covered her mouth and closed her eyes, disgusted that legs could bend that way. She blamed herself, thinking she might as well have pushed him.
She glared up at Arazod. He didn’t acknowledge the man. It was Valees, the blacksmith. He’d lived in Flowforn since before Sabrinia was born. He was the only survivor of a battle at sea and had lost his family. He had once told Sabrinia that in Flowforn he had found a place that felt like home again.
A spear-wielding Fool who held the keys to the cages left Valees.
‘My wings will wrap around you…’ Arazod screeched.
Prisoners shouted, ‘Shut up!’ and, ‘Boo!’ Arazod picked the wrong audience. People resigned to death had a tendency to speak honestly.
‘Responsibility,’ Sabrinia mumbled and shook her head. She’d grown to hate that word. She remembered when she was little and her father took her to various Flowfornian villages. While she wanted to play with other younglings, he told her that her responsibility was to bow and wave. She was never much of a bower. Once she bowed too aggressively and accidentally head-butted Princess Elma of Rispa. King Sastin had to give Rispa more gold than he could spare in order to avoid an incident. Since then Sabrinia was limited to just waving, as long as nobody was within arm’s reach.
She studied the cage for something, anything that could help her. It was hopeless. She stared at the two-headed turtle rock and sighed. She put it in her pocket.
Hargon swept the alleys and she caught his eye. She smiled at him, hoping he’d help her.
He shook his head, fear in his eyes, and swept his way out of sight.
What did she expect? Everyone lived in fear. One wrong move and people were either imprisoned or vanished, likely via the Wrath of Arazod.
She kicked the bars. ‘Stop that awful screeching! I would rather have my ears boiled than listen to your horrible voice!’
It worked. Arazod stopped and flew into his quarters.
Hargon poked his head back around the corner and swept his way to the cage.
‘What do you want?’ the Fool said.
‘I just want to clear this body. Keep the place tidy for our great leader.’
‘Hurry it up then.’
Hargon put his broom down and grabbed Valees’ legs. He groaned, pretending to struggle. ‘Any chance of some help?’ He winked at Sabrinia.
‘No,’ the Fool replied.
‘Come on. Show the weakling how it’s done. He needs the guidance of someone stronger,’ Sabrinia said.
The Fool grunted. It put its spear down. ‘That’s not how you do it!’ the Fool told Hargon and grabbed Valees under the arms and lifted him. ‘Then you drag.’ The Fool dropped Valees.
Hargon nodded. ‘Can you show me again, please? Just so I’m clear.’ Hargon kneeled and placed a hand on his broom.
The Fool huffed. ‘Fine. Last time, idiot. Grab under the arms, like this.’ The Fool bent to pick Valees up from under his arms.
Hargon smashed the broom over the Fool’s head, knocking it out.
The other prisoners cheered. Hargon signalled for them to be quiet.
Shaking, he grabbed the keys. He unlocked Sabrinia’s cage and the cages of all the others. ‘Right, we’re going to need—’
The other prisoners fled.
Hargon sighed. He turned to Sabrinia. ‘Follow me. There are about thirty Fools guarding Flowforn Arch so you need to find another way.’ He reached into his pocket and handed her a slab of dirty meat with dry edges and spots of yellowing decay.
Sabrinia smiled, both disgusted and appreciative. She took it, knowing she would rather find some dirt outside of Flowforn.
They crept across the courtyard towards the alleys. They took cover behind King Sastin’s statue. Sabrinia drew strength from his face.
‘You have to hurry before the Fool wakes up or the others see it,’ Hargon whispered.
Sabrinia nodded. She regretted leaving her people, but staying was no use to them. She had to rebuild alliances her father had broken, even if it meant begging and giving up land. ‘I’ll be back with help.’
Four Fools guarded the alleys by the Lookout Tower.
‘They’re everywhere,’ Sabrinia whispered.
Hargon looked back at the Fool by the cages who stirred. ‘Good luck, Princess.’ Hargon walked towards the Fools.
‘Stop. We’ll find another way.’
He was already near them.
‘Why aren’t you sweeping?’ a Fool asked.
‘I don’t feel like doing it anymore.’
The Fools looked at each other and laughed.
Hargon mocked their laughter, kicked some red pebbles at them and ran. They chased him towards Flowforn Arch.
Sabrinia crept into the alleys and looked back. The Fool guarding the cages blew the alarm horn.
She ran and weaved her way through narrow paths.
When they were young, her Karl and Questions played sneak and capture games, which helped her to know what buildings to use as cover.
Fools ran towards the alarm. She hid in the shadows and closed her eyes, hoping they would pass. She opened her eyes and the path was clear.
The old brewery was at the end of an alley. She could jump from one of the upper level windows onto Flowforn’s back wall and out.
She sprinted towards it, but that familiar, loathsome drum and horn music filled the air. She hid around the side of the brewery and waited for the sound to pass. She looked through a crack in the boarded-up window. Her neck muscles tightened and she gasped. There was a pile of butchered bodies with faces that resembled Karl’s.
She swallowed her shock, then turned and slammed into the solid frame of Lord Ragnus. She fell to the ground and her jaw throbbed.
Lord Ragnus looked down at her and shook his head. He picked her up by the neck and turned her to face Arazod who flew down.
‘What are—’
Peezant swooped and pecked Arazod, cutting his cheek.
‘Peezant, no!’ Sabrinia cried, not wanting him to get hurt.
Arazod whined, grabbed Peezant and snapped one of his wings. Peezant fainted.
‘No!’ Sabrinia swung a punch at Arazod. Lord Ragnus caught her fist and restrained her.
‘I should snap his neck too.’ Arazod handed Peezant to a Fool.
‘Now, future wife, what are you doing out of your cage?’ Arazod stroked
Sabrinia’s face.
Her chest felt hot. ‘I came to find you so I could tell you, there is no way I am marrying you, and you are to take your idiots and leave Flowforn, immediately!’
Arazod looked at Lord Ragnus. ‘She wants us to leave. She wants us to leave.’ He appealed to the Flowfornians who watched from their homes. ‘Well I guess we should probably just respect her wishes and go then.’ He laughed.
Lord Ragnus chuckled.
‘I could never love you,’ she said.
His beak twitched. ‘All that matters is the history books saying we married.’
‘But you know I don’t love you.’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Then I’ll say it again. I don’t—’
Arazod covered his ears with his wings. ‘La la la la la...’
‘I DON’T—’
‘LA LA LA LU LI LALA LI—’
‘NOBODY WILL EVER LOVE YOU!’ She was exhausted.
The feathers under Arazod’s eyes trembled and his chest deflated. He withdrew his wings from his ears. ‘Chain her up in my quarters,’ he said. ‘And separate all the men from the women and children. If I can’t have love, nobody will.’
Sabrinia tried to shake free of Lord Ragnus, but his grip was too strong.
Arazod grabbed her face, dug his claws into her cheeks and drew his beak close. His stale breath entered her nose, an unwelcome invasion, like him in her life. Blood ran down her cheeks and she gritted her teeth.
‘Fools, get chains on everybody so they can get to work. Today in Flowforn, dreams have died.’
37
It was the morning of the wedding. Oaf stirred and woke up with his face pressed against the back of the humped horse’s head. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and noticed waves caress the white sand.
The humped horse’s heavy footprints marked the otherwise spotless beach. Oaf nudged Questions, who lifted her head from his back. Karl was still slumped over a hump. Beyond him, they could no longer see the Wrath of Arazod.
‘Where are we?’ Questions asked.
‘I don’t know.’ Oaf took some bread from inside his leather vest. ‘It’s the last of it.’ He tore some for Questions, and dropped a tiny piece into the sack of jars where Tortured Soul was. Oaf looked at the last bit of crust. He sighed and held it by the humped horse’s face. ‘There you go, Humpy, you need it more than me.’
Humpy wrapped her tongue around the crust and swallowed it.
‘Did you give her a name?’ Questions nibbled her bread.
‘When you fell asleep I got bored so I spoke to her. Felt strange her not having a name.’ Oaf patted the side of Humpy’s neck. ‘She’s one of us now.’
Questions pointed to the northeast, where Mount Hastovia became visible above cliffs. ‘Are we going the wrong way?’
‘I don’t know,’ Oaf replied.
The beach curved around a cliff, and as more sand came into view Oaf dug his heels into Humpy’s side to stop her. His bottom lip quivered.
‘What’s wrong?’ Questions asked.
It couldn’t be. A weathered, stone sculpture of a bearded Oaf pointed towards a village of more sculptures.
Reech. Home…
Some sculptures poked out of the sea due to the receding coastline, and three sculpted row boats were partially buried under the sand, but it was pretty much the same old Reech. Just without the passionate sculpting, without visitors, without life.
‘This is my… was my… Reech.’
They climbed off Humpy and Oaf entered his old, rock home. He stared out over the village and Questions joined him. They watched Humpy roll around in the sea. Oaf remembered looking out of the same window at his mother while she spoke to Lord Ragnus. The memory was poisonous. ‘We can’t stop. We have to keep going.’
Questions grabbed his wrist. ‘Do you want to rest before we go on?’
He shook his head. ‘No. We need to hurry.’
Questions moved her hand to his and looked him in the eye. ‘Do you think you need to stop?’
Oaf exhaled and nodded. ‘Thanks. But once Humpy is ready, we have to carry on.’
Questions pointed to a sculpture of a humped Oaf holding a baby. ‘Is that your mother?’
Oaf’s resistance broke and his eyes filled with tears.
They sat on the beach and Oaf told Questions the story of his last sunsets in Reech. She asked no questions, never took her eyes off Oaf, and offered him her sleeve to wipe his tears on. When he’d told her everything he showed her the sculpture of The Stranger.
‘I’m surprised he didn’t take this with him.’ Oaf picked it up and walked towards the sea. ‘Maybe he wanted to leave a symbol of what he did here.’
Questions stood next to him.
He wanted to hug her, just to release a fraction of the pain.
Her attention shifted. ‘Did you see that?’
‘It’s just the sun dancing off the sculptures,’ Oaf said. ‘I got used to it as a little Oaf.’
Questions nudged him. ‘Can you hear that rattling?’
‘It’ll be nothing.’
‘Could you check please?’
‘If it stops you being scared.’ Oaf put The Stranger down. ‘Where do you think it’s coming from?’
Questions pointed to a crack in the base of a cliff, the cliff Oaf used to climb.
Oaf walked past the sculpture of the Knight With No Name and the dragon-scorpion. He poked his neck through the crack.
‘It’s just a cute little bone-snake.’ The noise was its bony frame clattering against rocks as it tried to manoeuvre. ‘I’ll free it, then we should go.’ Oaf reached in.
'What's this red, webby stuff?' Questions asked.
'Hold on, I can't see.' He turned around.
Questions studied a bright red, sticky web, which clung to the sculpture of Grifta.
'Don't know…' Oaf watched her for a moment, amazed at how curious she always was.
Questions ran her finger along the web over Grifta's face, around his neck like a scarf and down his torso then along his tail. The web stroked the sand until it disappeared beneath it.
Questions checked her book. She opened the sack of jars. ‘Are you okay, Tortured Soul?’
‘Yeah. Just rememberin’ somethin’,’ she mumbled. ‘I need to concentrate.’
Questions nodded and closed the sack. Oaf turned back to his task.
The sand beneath him shifted.
Humpy whinnied.
'Everything okay?' Oaf asked.
'Can you help me?' Questions called out.
'Yeah, hold on.' He reached for the snake but it squirmed away. He huffed.
'Can you help now?' she sounded worried.
'Got it!' Oaf turned around with the bone-snake in hand. Two large, black pincers, dotted with red splats emerged from the sand. Oaf placed the bone-snake down. 'Best you go now little friend.'
Questions backed away as a horn, then a dragon’s head on a muscular, serpentine neck followed. Almond-shaped eyes glowed an icy white, and large nostrils took long, slow breaths.
Questions pulled the dagger from her boot.
A large body with black and red scales like plates of armour shook off sand. Eight hairy, thin black legs pushed the rest of the creature above the ground. The tiny, three-clawed feet looked like they shouldn’t be able to hold its weight, and its long, thick tail threw sand into the sky, revealing a circular stinger with two long, curved spikes either side of it.
‘Run Questions! Up the cliff.' Oaf reached his arm out and waved her to come to him.
The dragon-scorpion grabbed Karl by his foot. Its stinger sprayed a red, stringy liquid all over him. Questions turned to run towards Oaf but the beast’s other pincer bashed her and her dagger into the sea.
'No!' Oaf yelled and ran towards the beast to get its attention.
Humpy galloped over to Questions and she pulled herself up.
The dragon-scorpion encased Karl in a body-hugging, sticky coffin and tossed him onto the san
d.
The monster charged at Oaf, whacked him with a pincer and knocked his head against a sculpture. Oaf slumped, dazed, breathless, and struggled to get back to his feet. Everything tumbled.
The dragon-scorpion approached Karl and spewed a clear solution over him. Steam rose off Karl’s red casing.
Questions pulled him away. ‘Can you go away?’ she yelled at the beast.
It stalked her back towards the water. It swept her legs with its tail and towered over her, baring its crooked, pointed teeth.
Oaf pushed against the sculpture, trying to get to his feet, but he fell back down.
Humpy leapt over Questions and stood between her and the monster. She flared her nostrils, turned and kicked the beast in the face.
It shrieked and pinched Humpy’s neck, slicing it open and releasing a flood of blood. Humpy collapsed.
Oaf's eyes stung.
Questions screamed and shuffled back, but she had no chance of escape. He had to get to her.
Muffled whispers confused Oaf. Was he losing his mind?
The creature seemed confused too and it turned around. The whispers came from another direction. It spun again. The whispers came from all directions.
Two tiny, robed creatures with brown sacks over their heads grabbed the dragon-scorpion’s front legs. Two more grabbed the back legs. They pulled until the dragon-scorpion was secure, struggling with its pincers and loose legs. It fought and slashed with its tail, but it was stuck. A fifth creature threw a spear that pierced the side of the dragon-scorpion’s left eye. It released a demonic shriek. Red-black blood ran down its face and around its mouth.
The dragon-scorpion jumped onto its pincers, shaking its tormentors off. Oaf concentrated to stop everything from waving. He stood and leaned on the sculpture, waiting in case he fell again.
The monster whipped the spear thrower into the sea then leapt at Questions and balanced on its tail. It was like a hairy, black and red sun with wiry tentacles. Its shadow covered Questions, who slithered backwards while the creature’s stinger pulsated.
The beast squealed and leaned back.
Oaf grabbed the sculpture of the Knight With No Name and bashed the creature’s tail, knocking it down.
