How Vince wished he had one of those napkins now. Instead, he placed his palm against the letter, trying to absorb its warmth. He felt like bursting into tears, but he told himself if he did so, they would be tears of joy. He was on his way to his father. It was really happening. This realization was both terribly exciting and incredibly nerve-racking, and so, to help calm his thoughts, he opened his backpack, grabbed his grandfather’s book, and began reading once again.
The Giant
The booming steps echoed from down the hall. The giant walked carefully toward Vincent, his colossal body hunched over as if he might hit his head. Although there was light, his gargantuan hands traced the walls just as Vincent’s had when he entered the cave. Something’s not right with him, Vincent quickly realized. Then he saw it. There was a blindfold over his eyes. The giant couldn’t see a thing.
“Please, do not run,” the giant said in a desperate tone. “There is nothing to fear. I will not hurt you.”
Vincent found his head tilting farther and farther back the closer the giant approached. He must have stood close to thirty feet tall. Absolutely massive. His head was the size of a boulder and just as peculiarly shaped. The dark hairs falling over his face were longer than Vincent was, and his boots could have served as a small apartment for someone Vincent’s size. Each tooth was like a tombstone; each arm, the size of a coffin. Curiously, the giant was covered in gruesome cuts and bruises, his nose apparently having been broken several times over. His clothes were in tatters; his body was filthy.
When the monstrosity reached the end of the hall, he slowly dropped to one knee as if bowing.
“Step forward,” he said. “Do not worry. No harm will come to you. I just want to meet my guest. Please.” He stuck out his hand.
Approaching the giant sounded like the worst idea in the world. A flick of a finger could nearly kill Vincent, crush his chest and ribs, shatter some bones. Still, he didn’t run. Instead, he bravely moved closer.
The giant reached out for him, his fingers writhing in the damp air. “Where are you?”
“A little closer,” Vincent said.
The giant brought his hand back for a moment, a perplexed look on his face. “You—you are not frightened of me.”
Vincent most definitely was, but he also felt sorry for him. “If I were, I would have run far away by now.” And this sounded true enough to him.
The giant smiled and reached out again. Soon he found his uninvited guest. He picked Vincent up gingerly in one hand, brought him close to his face, then traced his features with the tip of a single finger.
“You are quite small, Vincent. And I take it you are very young. Yes, you are, aren’t you?” he said, nodding to himself.
“I am old enough. But age doesn’t really matter, does it? One’s actions can betray any number.”
“Wise words,” the giant said as he reached out his free hand to search the ground behind him for something. “You sound like a pleasant boy, Vincent. I am sorry I have to do this.”
Vincent eyed the wandering hand, and then he watched the giant’s expression change. “Sorry for what?” he cried, suddenly becoming extremely frightened. “What are you going to do?” Wrapped tightly in a coarse palm, he struggled to squirm free.
“Don’t fight,” the giant said. “I can squeeze the life out of you in but a mere second. I can pop that little head right off and drain you of your blood as if you were nothing but a bottle of ale.”
Vincent opened his mouth and bit the humongous hand that held him captive, bit it with all he had.
The giant merely laughed and gave him a slight squeeze that almost caused Vincent to lose consciousness. “Don’t tempt me, boy.” Finally his hand settled on the lengthy chain coiled up outside the hall. Having located the end, he yanked it closer and, with some difficulty, shackled it to Vincent’s leg. Once it was secured, he placed his prisoner down.
Vincent dropped to the ground and groped at the chain, trying to pull his leg free. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, panic nearly consuming him. “What do you want from me?”
The giant answered his questions with one of his own: “Why have you entered my cave?”
“I was retreating from the rain. That is all. I promise you, I had no corrupt intentions.”
“What I mean is, what are you doing in these mountains all alone? Don’t you know how dangerous they are? Are you brave or merely foolish?”
Vincent continued to struggle with the thick chain, slamming it with a rock. “I . . . Well, I was running away.”
“Running from what?”
“A witch.”
“A witch?” The giant’s hands reached up to his face, his blindfolded eyes. “The witch of the woods?” He sounded truly horrified. Under his breath, he began to mumble. “Perhaps this is no mere coincidence. This is the way of the world, is it not? This is how it was meant to be.” The giant reached out for Vincent and picked him up once again. “The witch, she is why you are chained, Vincent. Just as she is the reason I am blind. Yes. She did this to me. And for no reason other than my trespassing in her woods. But I am a shepherd, and I must tend to my flock. I meant her no harm. And yet this is my punishment.” He removed the blindfold and revealed the white eyes behind it. The irises were gone, the corners oozing not tears but yellow pus. “Tell me, why do you run from her? What has she done to you?”
“She wants me for her own,” Vincent said. “She cursed me at birth.”
“No doubt she is a vile hag. She must be stopped. She must be killed.” He rubbed his eyes. “Sadly, I am in no condition to do so. But you, Vincent, you can change that. You can return my vision. You see, the witch spoke of a cure, an antidote consisting of six ingredients, three of which I already possess. You find me the other three, and I will reward you greatly.”
“And how am I supposed to find them when I am chained?”
“As a cruel taunt, the witch hid them within my home. Of course I can’t find them all, although I’ve tried my best, searching desperately through every room on my hands and knees. My body, as I am sure is clear to you, has taken a toll.”
As Vincent was lowered yet again, he noticed that even the giant’s fingers were badly damaged, the tips almost rubbed raw, the nails cracked and jagged and black as if the curse had spread from his eyes, deadening the rest of his body as well.
“And if I find the rest of the ingredients, you will let me go?”
“Yes, you find them and I will not kill you,” the giant said. “That is your reward.”
Vincent stared at the chain and gave it one last tug. It was incredibly heavy and most likely impenetrable. He had no choice. The only way to be free was to help the giant regain his sight.
“You didn’t have to chain me,” Vincent said. “I would have found them for you without the promise of any prize.”
“I am sorry; I couldn’t take the chance of your running off. It is not often that someone enters my cave. You must understand, my sight is at stake. You cannot imagine a fate such as this, to have the light of the world snuffed out. I can barely recall the beauty of our land.”
Vincent looked from the chain to the giant to the hall with its many doors. “What are the three ingredients I am looking for?”
“First, you must find a crab so that I may take its claw. Second, you must snatch me a ladybug so that I may rip its wings from off its body. And finally, you must capture me a snake so that I may cut out its forked tongue.”
“Very well,” Vincent said. “I will begin immediately.”
“First, my friend, there are two things you must know. One is the most important rule of my home.” He stood up and walked down the hall, farther into the cave. “Follow me,” he said.
Vincent obeyed, dragging the heavy chain behind him.
Ahead, the giant extended his arms. “You may go anywhere you like, search every inch of my home, open every door.” He stopped and turned around in the middle of the circle with the twelve doors. “Every door but one.”
He pointed to a door the farthest from the cave’s entrance. It was painted a dark red, as if sprayed with blood, the only door that was this color. “No matter what, you are not to enter this room, under any circumstances whatsoever. It is forbidden. Disobey me, and it will cost you your life.”
“But what if one of the ingredients is in there?”
“None of them are. I know this. Do you understand? You are not to enter this room.”
Vincent eyed the door closely, wondering what was so very important. “I understand,” he said. “What is the other thing I should know?”
“This will make your task even more difficult than you already thought it to be. The snake I seek has become the pet of a gnome living somewhere within my home. He is a quite mad gnome, hell-bent on entering this very room.” The giant rubbed his palm against the red door. “But the red paint keeps him out; he cannot ever cross the threshold. However, he believes he has found his own path in, a way to circumvent these ancient laws. You see, the gnome carries with him a mirror. But this is no ordinary mirror. Every so often it begins to glow, and when it does, this gnome stares into it, and the glow becomes so bright it is almost as if he had captured the sun itself. There is a tremendous flash; nothing can be seen; the world around him is eliminated. Then, just like that, the glow is gone, and the gnome finds himself transported to another room in my home. Unfortunately for you and me, in the process, the magic mirror shuffles everything around. The dozen rooms are ever changing, you understand. Because of the mirror, they become hundreds, thousands, no two ever alike. All but the room beyond the red door: this one will always remain as it is. The gnome, however, hopes to one day find himself transported inside. He will not stop until he succeeds. We must stop him before this happens. Vincent, I want you to take from him this snake and destroy his mirror. Find my ingredients and return order to this cave. Then I will free you. But be careful. The gnome is of a warped mind. He is pure evil, and he knows I seek the snake. He will do anything to keep it from me, for if my sight was to return, he is well aware his days are numbered.”
Vincent took in every word and nodded. “With the rooms forever changing, you understand there is a chance I will never find any of these.”
“I am aware of the circumstances, boy. Are you?”
“I am,” Vincent said, nodding solemnly. “You will have your sight back.”
“Confident. Very good. Then off you go.”
But before he began his search, with the giant unable to see, Vincent reached out and touched the red door. It chilled his spine.
Later, after lighting all the wall torches, for which the giant no longer had any use, Vincent explored the hall from end to end, inspecting every crevice, every crack in which a ladybug might hide. This alone consumed almost two hours, although he spent a good amount of time trying to peek under the red door, all to no avail. He found that just being near it revved his heart, quickened his pulse. Something tugged at him from the other side. What is behind this door? he wondered, placing his ear against it, hearing nothing. It had to be something immensely powerful. Perhaps more riches than he could ever dream of. Perhaps something that could reunite him with his mother. If it weren’t something special and powerful, why would the giant need to protect it so?
When he completed his search of the hall, he moved on to the first room to the right of the red one. Looking up at the humongous door, he couldn’t imagine having the strength to open it, but as he pushed against the thick wood, he found that it swung open rather easily.
Inside, he couldn’t see a thing. The room was hidden in the densest fog. Vincent raised his hand just an inch from his face and couldn’t see it in the slightest. He imagined this was how the giant must feel all the time. Maybe he didn’t see darkness at all, but rather a thick haze of white. To be blinded in such a way was a horrible thing, and a part of him had great sympathy for the giant. But then a terrifying thought entered his head: What if the gnome is in this room at this very moment? What if he can somehow see me through this haze? Vincent spun around, arms extended. His heart raced yet again, but for much different reasons. Was that a sound? Footsteps? No, he had to be calm. If he wasn’t, he might never find what he needed. But how could he find anything in here? It was almost as if there were no “here” to even speak of. He decided that his best bet was to crawl about the room, feeling every inch in his path for a snake or a ladybug or a crab. He didn’t believe the room was very big, but at such a crawl, as he searched for such small prizes, it took him over four hours to cover every inch. It was madness. Of course in the end he came away with nothing.
Once he had exited the room, he closed the door and, as he was about to walk away, suddenly stopped. He turned back. “What if . . .” Slowly he pushed the door open again, and to his wonder, he found himself in a completely different room from the one he had just left. In the time he spent searching through the fog, the gnome must have used the mirror. This way, when Vincent’s chain was finally clear of the door and it was able to close, it shuffled into its new state, however temporarily. It was a brutally disheartening experience. How would he ever search every possible room? Was there an infinite amount? And how was he supposed to complete this task all before the gnome somehow entered the forbidden room?
Vincent hung his head in defeat. The new room before him looked like another cave. It was just more dank and empty space with walls of rock and dripping water. He gave a quick scan of the room and noticed nothing that might aid him on his quest—no immediate signs of any gnomes, snakes, crabs, or ladybugs. But then, coming from the far wall, he heard a quiet scratching sound. As Vincent approached, he noticed cave drawings. But they weren’t ancient. They were active. Lines of dark chalk or charcoal or hematite began creating images upon the wall like a canvas, only there was no guiding hand, nor was there any chalk either. Just the art and its miraculous creation. Vincent reached out and placed his fingers over the magically shifting lines and felt a slight vibration against his skin. How was this possible? What was being drawn? He stepped back and saw a massive forest and the outline of a solitary house. There was a window, and inside, he could see some people, but he couldn’t tell how many or who they might be. A cloud emerged overhead, and two figures exited the house and headed for the edge of the woods. Suddenly flames engulfed the house, and in seconds it was gone. The image lasted only a few seconds more before everything was erased and the chalk lines began to take on a new drawing. Whatever invisible hand was at work here appeared to be creating the entire night sky now, every star, every planet and comet and moon and galaxy. The drawing, like the universe itself, seemed like it would never end, and Vincent decided to move on with his search, scouring the floor and walls yet again for the elusive ladybug that might be hiding anywhere. When he didn’t find it, he left through the same door a second time, the chalk still creating the cosmos.
For the remainder of the day Vincent went in and out of rooms without finding anything but oddities, one after another. In one room were hundreds of tiny pyramids made up of rocks and pebbles. Every time Vincent toppled them over to check for one of his three pursuits, the rocks would roll about as if alive and rebuild the pyramid in a matter of moments. Another room was filled with an abundance of chairs, each one a different ornate design. Every time Vincent had a seat in one, he heard a unique sound and the chair would vanish, practically evaporating into the ground. Later, when he asked the giant about the room, the giant laughed and said, “Too bad you don’t have a necklace of alligator teeth.” Vincent had no idea what this meant.
There were rooms that were so big he almost believed he was no longer inside the cave, and there were other rooms in which he could fit without crouching and crawling. Some rooms had their own weather patterns while others gave him reason to believe they were haunted.
Every now and then, as the giant sat with his sheep, consuming barrels of wine, as he so often did, he would call out to him, “Have you found anything yet?” and Vincent would wearily respond, “Not yet,�
� to which the giant would belch and laugh. It was such an arduous and long process. On average, he searched each room for over three hours. There were moments when he lost his patience, there were times when he thought he might lose his mind, all the while wishing he could just return home and see his mother once more. His hatred of the witch grew by the minute, and he vowed that if he ever escaped the cave, he would find a way to destroy her before he made a life for himself.
At night the giant served him lamb that he cooked over an open fire, neither one talking to the other. Then, chained, Vincent slept on the ground. Every morning he had to help the giant tend to his sheep. The giant said that before Vincent’s arrival, the giant had used the chain to keep himself tethered to the cave, so that when he ventured out, he could always find his way back. But he was losing too many sheep in the process. Now, as they grazed in the grass at the bottom of the mountain—near the woods but not too near—Vincent served as his eyes. Then, when they returned to the cave and as the giant drank, Vincent began his search again. And every time he passed the red door, he felt its pull. Why not just risk a peek, what did he have to lose? No, he had to convince himself daily, almost hourly, you still have a chance to be free; you still have a chance to live the life your mother wanted for you. Don’t ruin that. What he needed to do, and soon, was heal the giant and get away from that door for good, lest temptation overwhelm him completely.
Two long and arduous weeks into his stay, he opened yet one more of the ever-changing doors—this one previously being the room of fog and a closet of skulls shortly after that—and found himself falling face-first into water. After the initial shock, Vincent quickly stood up and collected himself. He was hip deep in the clearest of cool water. The room was either a lake or a pond or a pool, maybe a bath, however the giant preferred to use it, he supposed. How deep did it go? Vincent took another two steps in, gathered his breath, and then dived under.
The Dyerville Tales Page 6
