The House of Yeel

by Michael McCloskey

  She looked down the trail and gasped. Plants on the side of the trail were crushed, overhanging tree limbs broken. It was as if a huge beast had crashed through the forest, smashing everything in its path.

  “What’s the matter, my friend?” Yeel asked. “You gasp as if frightened, perhaps surprised, to find me, your good friend Yeel behind you. As if we had not already shared many kind words, two meals, and the common goal which binds us. Perhaps you thought yourself dreaming, and were surprised to find it was all real? Or maybe a lapse of memory resulted in startlement when you turned and saw me, causing you to remember my presence?”

  “What happened to the trail? The most incompetent court jester could follow what we’ve left behind!”

  Yeel turned to regard the forest behind them. “Ah…um. I see your point. You refer to the vegetative damage left in our wake. That would be due to…due to the inherent…intrinsic, if you will…aura of beings of immense power such as myself! You didn’t think a being as…incredibly powerful as the mighty Yeel could pass through such trivial foliage without…consequences, do you?”

  “I’m sorry, my lord! I haven’t traveled with anyone of your…caliber…before,” Jymoor said. “Please forgive me,” she begged, bowing before Yeel. This man held such power that even the trees and bushes of the forest recoiled before him!

  Avorn stared at the carnage behind them as well, but he held his tongue. He turned and regarded Yeel again. His hand nervously sought the hilt of his sword and rested upon it.

  “Let’s see how far we can get before stopping for a bite to eat,” Yeel suggested. “Travel is really most invigorating. I’d been stuck in there for so long I really hadn’t taken the effort to review my memories of the outer world in quite some time. I must admit to some measure of excitement now that I’m traveling once again.”

  Chapter 5: Far from Home?

  “Must we stop for the night?” Yeel asked.

  “It would be unwise to continue in darkness,” Jymoor explained. “We could fall into a crevice, get stung by a shadow scorpion, any of a number of dangers.”

  Yeel knows little of travel for one so wise, she thought. Or perhaps one as powerful as he needs not fear such dangers.

  The light dimmed as the orb of fire started to disappear behind the horizon. The travelers had temporarily emerged from the forest to travel along a rocky ridge that rose from the surrounding trees.

  “This is a simple problem, easily overcome,” Yeel said. “The need for light is very basic. Fortunately I am equipped to provide a substitute for our star’s emanations. I’ll need a few moments to combine the necessary agents, though.”

  Jymoor watched Yeel as he fumbled through one of his packs. He took out two stones pocked with tiny holes and a small package wrapped in string.

  “Fetch us two straight sticks, if you would, my friend,” Yeel urged. “I’ll prepare the stones, so that our efforts might take a minimum of time, and we can resume our journey momentarily. And thank you for your help.”

  Jymoor carefully made her way into a break in the rocks where some dead tree limbs had accumulated. She broke some dry wood and found two branches that might serve. As she walked back to Yeel, she saw that the stones had started to glow softly in the waning light. Yeel put the package back into his larger pack and handed a stone to Jymoor.

  Avorn stood well back, as if in fear of the phenomenon.

  “Put the adhesive side against the stick to wield it,” Yeel said. “And hand me a stick, please. You see, one of these is for me and one is for you. In that way we will have one more than strictly necessary, a redundant setup, affording us extra protection in case of unexpected events which might deprive us of one source of light. We are, sadly, still vulnerable to the possibilities depriving us of two or more sources of light…”

  Jymoor traded a stick for a glowing stone. She stared at the rock, wondering at its inner light.

  “Adhesive side?”

  “Just put the stick against the top, right there,” explained Yeel. The wizard placed the end of his stick against the rock and then released the glowing stone. It clung neatly onto the end of the stick. Yeel held the assembly up, casting a white light onto the ground before him.

  “Now we can see,” he said.

  Jymoor brought her branch into contact with the stone and the two connected firmly. She waved her stick about, lighting the area.

  “Is it a magical torch? How long does it last?” Jymoor asked.

  “It is what it is. Call it a torch if you like, and model it as a magical one if you wish. It depends on quite a lot. But the stone will almost certainly outlive the stick. The wood will eventually rot unless we treat it with certain chemicals to protect it.”

  “What? The wood will rot? Well, yes, but, I mean, how long will they glow? Not how long will the rock and the stick last.”

  “Ah, I see your thrust exactly. We were having a semantic mishap. You want to know how long the reaction will last. We can clear this up, I assure you. Now. Are you asking about yours or mine?”

  “Either. Both. Are they different?”

  “Yours lasts as long as mine. And mine, as long as yours,” Yeel said.

  “They last the same amount of time…but wait. Why did you ask me which one? Oh never mind. Just how long do they last?”

  “It seemed logical to charge them to last throughout the night,” Yeel said. “True, we may not press onward through the entire span of darkness, but it seemed prudent to ensure that we didn’t end up in a delicate situation with our lights suddenly failing us.”

  “You are wise, Lord Yeel. Of course, I didn’t expect otherwise.”

  “Well, in that circumstance I wonder why you asked. But in any case, communication has won the day. We now both know. And I assume you’ve even remembered it, judging from your previous mental acrobatics. So if I should want to know later, presumably you would share the information back with me? No matter, it is logical enough, and I should be able to independently deduce my previous actions on this matter. Unless, of course, I was to run short of necessary materials, then later forget that fact…”

  The three moved through the trees for several more hours after sunset, guided by the glowing orbs Yeel had put together. The dual lights cast eerie double shadows from the twisted trees, revealing the landscape nearby in washed-out colors. Jymoor stopped to consult a journal she had recorded on her journey. Yeel contentedly followed her lead, confident that his guide would find the way.

  Yeel also kept talking at length about every little thing they saw. So much so Jymoor found herself a bit strained to listen. Yet she could say nothing to silence the Great Yeel. She would just have to suffer his foibles.

  They came to another rocky outcropping jutting up through the trees. The rocks formed a sheltered spot with a dry clearing between them. The trees hugged the formations as if trying to embrace the stone, forming a leafy ceiling to the area.

  “I found it! I spent a night here on my journey out to the Far Coast!” Jymoor said. “I was having trouble keeping to my old path, because I can’t see any landmarks in the dark.”

  “You slept out here? On those rocks? I thought your culture encouraged sleeping in shelter, inside those crude dwellings you construct,” Yeel said. “Ah, but of course. You don’t have any means of…of course. I think now you slept here because you had no choice!”

  “Uh, yes. Well, this was the best spot in the area. I’ve grown tired, my lord,” Jymoor said. “Could we perhaps break camp here, and seek some rest? You must be tired as well…or do your powers keep you strong?”

  “We can rest if you wish. My, ah, powers keep me from needing any sleep. But I comprehend your need for recharging your mental agents. A necessary part of your biology. We all have our natural strengths and weaknesses. Classify sleep under the weaknesses.”

  Avorn grunted. He wandered the perimeter of the clearing, as if assessing it on his own terms.

  Jymoor sat down and began to unload her sleeping pack. “I’ll se
t up camp here, then,” she said. “This little niche will make it easier to stay warm and safe.”

  Yeel watched Jymoor for a moment.

  “I can understand your desire to sleep under the stars, at peace with nature, but what of the dangers you spoke of? Wouldn’t it be wiser to seek real shelter for the night?”

  “That would be the best option, but we’re far from civilization,” Jymoor said. “We must make do with what we have. I realize, my lord, that you’re probably used to the amenities of your palace, but we will have none of that on the hard road we travel.”

  “Why’s that? We could simply stop in at my house for the night,” Yeel suggested. “No need to create a fire or risk the nocturnal predators. Your nose is not producing enough mucus to protect you from the shadow scorpions you mentioned, I feel. Of course, I’ll defer to your judgment. I’m prepared to withstand the elements if you deem it necessary. Wait. Is it some kind of bonding ritual?”

  “What? How?” Jymoor stammered. “We can’t head back now.”

  “I couldn’t hope to achieve great missions without the resources provided by my domicile! We have to have food, equipment, chemical agents, and a place to shelter. It only makes sense that we should pop back in from time to time. I can only carry so many artifacts on my person at once.”

  Yeel reached for his belt and freed his roveportal. Placing the device upon the ground before him, he spoke the command word.

  “Nibleetzak!”

  The tiny device hummed and a rod of light rose just higher than Yeel’s head. A two dimensional doorway opened in thin air, displaying a view of Yeel’s water chamber.

  “Here we are! Won’t you join me? Or did you find my guest chamber to be inadequate? I could send some supplies out if you’d rather stay here.”

  “My lord! I’d underestimated your powers. I’d heard the stories, of course, but I never realized. You can bring us back to your house? That’s fantastic. Why are we traveling at all? Perhaps you should simply have used magic to take us to my homeland!”

  “Ah, well. I don’t have that particular magic. The roveportal is a very ancient artifact that I’ve mastered that allows me to return home from time to time, but I can’t go just anywhere, you understand. The portal goes with me. I have to carry it to your nation of Riken.”

  “I see,” Jymoor said.

  “You see? Ah, you understand. I see. Ha! A joke! You see, I see you see! Ha!”

  Jymoor nodded politely. “Very funny,” she assured Yeel, but she did not laugh.

  “That reminds me, I’ll keep an eye on the portal while we’re gone,” Yeel said, dropping something small on the ground. “If something comes along we’ll want to be aware of it. Most creatures instinctively fear the portal but you never know what awful monster might be lurking about. The Far Coast is a dangerous place, much worse than the civilized areas you hail from.”

  “What did you drop there just now?” Jymoor asked. She swung her light orb around, trying to get a better look.

  “It is a…I have means of watching places. It’s a charm, a magical knickknack if you will. A natural artifact. Intrinsic device?”

  “Oh. It looks sort of like a plant seed.”

  “Not really a seed, although I do grow them,” Yeel said, holding back his amusement. “Just please remember not to step on it. I find that most disturbing. You can remember that, right?”

  “Yes, my lord,” Jymoor said. Yeel stepped through the glowing doorway and his light was gone. Jymoor tried to catch a glimpse of Yeel through the shimmering image of the other side. She caught some movement, a large shadow moving away. She saw a flicker of green like a rope waving through the air. Then there was nothing but the fountain.

  “Are you really stepping into that?” grumbled Avorn. The knight carried his helm tucked under his arm, shifting from foot to foot nervously.

  “Well…I suppose so,” she said uncertainly.

  Jymoor took a look around the tiny grove, and caught sight of a discoloration of the ground. She knelt down, holding her glowing orb close to the surface of the rocky earth. She stood in a wide track of clear slime, barely visible, leading through the area and to the portal.

  The tracks of Yeel.

  “Unbelievable,” she muttered.

  She shrugged and went through the gateway.

  Chapter 6: The Stone Garden

  I have now traveled with the Great Yeel for six days and nights. His feats of power never cease to amaze me. This mighty wizard commands all the elements. Fire and light I have seen him produce upon the shortest notice. The earth and her children shirk before him, and she weeps at his very passage. Air is also his to command since he can fill his palace with warm or cool breezes at a whim. Water too is his slave. He alters the course of streams within his palace at the smallest motion of his hand.

  Yesterday as we supped in his opulent palace in the sky, a gnarth discovered the portal of light which connects us to the mainland and wandered through after our scent. Not only did Yeel detect this gargantuan beast immediately with his mystical eyes that are everywhere, he went out to do battle with the creature side by side with the Crescent Knight. I myself confess to no small measure of anxiety upon seeing the poisoned spines on its tail. But Yeel stood before the thing and called forth some power beyond understanding. Flashes of light and smoke erupted from his outstretched arms, accompanied by a loud crash of sound. The gnarth beast rolled its eyes in stupid terror and bolted from us in haste.

  I now know that all the old stories must be true. The barbarian horde is vast, but I find myself beginning to think that there is nothing that Yeel cannot accomplish.

  “Are you done with your persistent memory storage?” Yeel said, interrupting Jymoor at her writing. She looked across the dining table at the powerful wizard, trying to decipher his words.

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re engraving memories onto that roll of fiber, are you not?” Yeel asked, pointing a thin hand at Jymoor’s scroll.

  “Oh. Yes, I have a limited amount of it but I felt the need to record your amazing feats before I grew accustomed to them.”

  “Ah. How flattering. I wish I could read your memories, but I don’t know your language.”

  The knight guffawed. “You’re speaking it now. We understand you,” he said.

  “Ah, that I could. My memory isn’t up to the task of learning to speak or write or read it. We communicate through a particular talent I have, of placing meaning into other’s minds. Actually I’ve been speaking to you in my native tongue all along. But still you understand and the words come to you as a side effect.”

  “A jest, my lord. Surely a jest?” Jymoor said.

  “No, it’s true. I assure you. But we can speak more of it once we resume our journey. Will we reach your homeland this day?”

  “No, I’m afraid the forest is vast. The Far Coast is well beyond the common knowledge of my folk.”

  “Ah, that’s too bad. But, we’ll get there in time. Like many problems, long journeys are best handled in small doses. Are you ready?”

  “Yes, let’s get going,” Avorn said.

  Jymoor thought he sounded sour. The Crescent Knight didn’t take well to being the second most noteworthy hero around. He seemed to be waiting for Yeel to prove himself still further. Or perhaps the man actually hoped that Yeel would fail, Jymoor thought.

  “Between the two of you, we should be able to repel the barbarians,” Jymoor said, trying to include the knight. “A powerful wizard and a mighty warrior to lead our people. This has been a more successful quest than I could’ve hoped for.”

  The three left the kitchen and moved through Yeel’s palace toward the portal. As usual, Yeel seemed to linger along behind, almost as if the guests led him through his own house.

  On the other side of the portal, the sun shone down through the leaves of great trees that surrounded them. As usual the Crescent Knight chose to lead and started off in an easterly direction. The man had left his helm and greaves behin
d in the palace as a concession to the effort of carrying the extra weight through the forest. Even though the beautiful armor strengthened its bearer, Jymoor had observed that Avorn would tire if forced to wear it all day long in the absence of the moon.

  They moved along a verdant hill and crossed a small stream by walking on the trunk of a giant tree that had fallen over the running water. The undergrowth thinned ahead. Jymoor kept a sharp eye out. She called a soft warning when she spotted vague forms ahead in the trees.

  “There’s someone ahead!” she said. Avorn drew his sword, but Yeel simply continued forward. Jymoor took a few more steps. The figures in the woods seemed very still…

  “They are stone,” Avorn announced. He lowered his sword but kept it out as they paced closer. Soon the three travelers stood before one of the forms and Jymoor identified it as a solid sculpture as the knight thought.

  “They’re replicas of your race,” Yeel said. “Strange facsimiles that could hardly fool a trained eye. Perhaps this is a religious ritual of some sort that the locals participate in.”

  “They aren’t very similar to each other though,” Jymoor commented. She reached out and felt the stone of the nearest icon, which had been shaped into a likeness of a young woman. She found it incredibly soft. Warm, yielding flesh moved under her hand.

  “Argh!” she yelped. The statue before her flickered into vivid colors, the brown of leather and the soft tones of flesh. A sword hung at its hip.

  “Help us,” it said, holding its arm out toward Jymoor.

  “Yeel! Do you see?”

  “Most noteworthy! You have the power to transmute stone into living material! Jymoor, I had no idea you possessed this advanced science! I beg of you that we share notes at once on this subject. Such a rapid and efficient process, too, I simply—”

  “Help us, please,” the newly animated maiden urged again. “Whatever manner of beings you are, please let us go.”

  “Yeel, I didn’t do this. I don’t know what happened. But we must help her. What’s your name?” Jymoor asked the woman.