The Dagger-Key and The Lost Treasures of Kebadon

by Daniel Ferguson

  * * *

  At about the same time Washburrn was approaching the waterhole on the mountaintop. When he reached the waterhole, he tossed his sword and other weapons next to a shrub. Hoping to recover them later, he heard someone approaching. Odds are that’s my welcoming party.

  And sure enough it was. Jayden and Yamm greeted him, weapons ready. Jayden looked at Washburrn. “I hope for your sake you came alone.”

  “Where’s Kyhawn?”

  “In the temple.” Jayden pointed with one hand, while in the other hand he held his pistol. “Yamm, take his cabac and tie his hands. Make it quick. And search him down good.”

  Washburrn held his arms out even with his shoulders while Yamm patted him down. “You’re pretty darn calm,” Yamm said in a scratchy voice, “for someone who has to give up something he’s been fighting so hard to keep. He’s clean,” he told Jayden.

  “Why shouldn’t I be?” Washburrn replied. “I knew what to expect. It’s all quite simple. We give you the chest. You and your group go your way, and we go ours. The fact is, I’m sick and tired of being caretaker of that chest. It’s been nothing but bad luck ever since I laid eyes on it.” Washburrn grunted as they tied his hands behind his back. “I tell you, it’s been plain bad luck.”

  Jayden set Washburrn’s cabac aside. “You expect us to believe that rubbish?”

  “I really don’t care what you think. Nevertheless, to show you I mean well, I’ve brought you all a peace offering—some mogg juice. It’s in my cabac. Please be careful. It’s the best tiallup can buy.”

  “It’s true, Jayden.” Yamm’s mouth watered. “There’s six bottles of mogg juice here.”

  Jayden shoved Washburrn forward. “You stay in front of us so we can keep an eye on you.”

  A moment later, the sound of a pistol firing echoed in the space between them. “That better not be someone firing on Kyhawn.” Washburrn gave them a betrayed look.

  “Hope not, for his sake. Keep walking.” Jayden pressed his pistol against Washburrn’s backside.

  Puzzled as to why they’d heard a pistol fire, they entered the ruins to find Emit and Mekon standing before the altar.

  “If you’ve shot him, I’ll …!” Washburrn struggled to free himself. He slammed into Jayden. Jayden fell, jumped back to his feet, and pointed his pistol at Washburrn’s head.

  Emit came down from the altar steps, pushed Jayden aside, and got close to Washburrn. “You’ll what? Untie yourself and kill me? I don’t think so. But put your worries aside, old Zac. Your young friend is well.” He tied his red hair back with a piece of twine. “However, I can’t say the same for Malnur. The trader tried to untie the kid. If it hadn’t been for Mekon, he might have succeeded.”

  “You murdering lowlifes.” Washburn squeezed his fists. “You’ve killed the only decent Zac among you. Now untie Kyhawn from that altar.”

  “Untie him? No, he isn’t going anywhere,” Mekon told him. “Not when your friend has a mouth on him that won’t quit.”

  Washburrn stood straight facing Emit and Mekon. After a pause, he relaxed his hands. “You want to get your hands on the peg-lock chest soon, don’t you?”

  “What are you getting at, old Zac?” Emit stared at him.

  “It’s quite simple.” Washburrn took a deep breath and calmly continued. “If you untie Kyhawn from that altar, we’ll take you there willingly. If you don’t, then we might not make things so easy for you. The choice is yours.”

  Emit looked at him enviously. “I can see how you’ve managed to come to an old age and remain in one piece.” Emit looked at Jayden. "Untie the kid from the altar, but don’t forget to retie his hands. We leave for my chest right away.”

  Mekon grabbed hold of Washburrn’s cabac. “Wait, what do we have here?”

  “Be careful,” Yamm told him. “There’s several bottles of mogg juice in there.”

  “Mogg.” Mekon unbuckled the cabac’s strap. “What’s this for? You trying to bribe us, or something?”

  Washburrn glanced at Kyhawn who was giving him an odd stare. He looked at Emit and Mekon. “No I’m not trying to bribe you,” Washburrn explained, “It’s quality mogg-juice, and why not? You can say it’s my way of saying no hard feelings. We give you the peg-lock chest that you want so much. You return Kyhawn to me, and as far as leaving the island is concerned, I’m sure we can make some reasonable arrangements between us.”

  Kyhawn wondered, What’s he up to?

  “Let me see if I’m hearing you right.” Emit was obviously puzzled by Washburrn’s words. “You’re giving us this mogg juice as a peace offering. Without any tricks, you say?”

  Washburrn nodded, “To put it simply, yes. And I think you’ll find the mogg juice to your liking. It’s top of the line.”

  Yamm chewed on a zuetia leaf, sneezing again into his shirtsleeve. “They’re in glass jugs too, Emit.”

  Healcox’s face lit up with delight as he sniffed a jug and smiled.

  Emit shoved Healcox away from the jugs, then looked at Washburrn. “We accept your offer,” he said as he took a quick look at one of the jugs. He gave a slight smile, but spoke sharply. “No drinking until after Double-Sun-Day. Yamm, take these to the cellar. We’ll need to travel light.” He reached for a small chest. “And Jayden, take this down there and put it where it was earlier … in that passageway.”

  Washburrn and Kyhawn both noticed the small chest appeared identical to the one Captain Joenf had lost. They glanced at one another in agreement.

  “Don’t be long,” Emit said as he reached for his cloak lying on the altar floor. As he slung it around his shoulders and secured it, Kyhawn’s eye widened as if betrayed. There on the altar floor sat the dagger-key. Emit reached over and scooped it up.

  “How did you find that key?” Kyhawn asked.

  Washburrn didn’t say a word, also appearing somewhat surprised.

  “We made a sandcastle,” Healcox said. “You and them other lads aren’t the only ones who know how to make sandcastles.” He and his mates chuckled.

  Mekon walked to the far end of the temple that lay in darkness where the ceiling had for the most part corroded away; stones and rotten ceiling beams covered much of the floor like broken toys from another time. Mekon pushed a rotten beam aside with his boot. As it fell apart, he looked at the open sky. A raindrop fell upon him, then another. “Rain— we better get a move on.”

  Emit approached Washburrn. “We know in which direction you buried our chest. But unfortunately we need you for the particulars.” He pointed Washburrn toward the temple doors. “And for your own well-being,” he shook the dagger-key at Washburrn, “our ritual tools better be inside.” He slipped the dagger-key in his pocket, patting it for good luck, and smiled like he already ruled the world.

  “It’s a good two-hour walk northwest from here,” Washburrn groaned. He felt as though he were betraying King Lumarkahawn, King of the land of Rhaw. Omakohak, Chamquinil, all of the other towns and cities in the land of Rhaw, and the remainder of the free world were in Kyhawn and Washburrn’s hands.

  “You better be right about where it is,” Mekon told him.

  As Jayden and Namferic returned from the cellar, Kyhawn saw Jayden chewing on a long bone. A leg bone, he thought. Kyhawn watched Jayden as he tossed the bone on top of a pile of them off to one side of the ruin.

  Then he looked at Washburrn. All he could think about was, He’s up to something, but what? I’ll just have to follow his lead.

  Emit slung his hood over his head as Yamm also came in. Yamm and Mekon led the way, followed by Kyhawn and Washburrn with Emit and Jayden close behind them. Namferic and Healcox covered their flank.

  Washburrn glanced over his shoulder at Emit. “What have you done with Gelhona?” he asked, but deep down he felt he already knew what the answer was. She’s most likely dead, if she’s not here he thought. “What have you done with her,” he repeated.

  “Gelhona … who’s she?”

  Rain f
illed the silence.

  Washburrn walked up to Jayden. “I demand you tell me where she is. What have you done with her—?”

  Jayden shoved him forward. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, old Zac.”

  “Yeah, she took off to camp last we seen her.” Healcox pointed his sword at Washburrn.

  Mekon grabbed Washburrn’s cloak. “We can’t be responsible for your dear captain’s crew.”

  “You .…” Washburrn was furious.

  Kyhawn could only shake his head in sorrow. Emit grabbed Kyhawn. “Say another word about the matter, and the kid gets a dagger in his arm.” He pointed his dagger at Kyhawn. “Get moving.”

  “You too, Washburrn.” Mekon gave him another shove.

  By the time they had passed though the ruins and started to descend the mountain, it was pouring rain. As they started down the steep, dangerous path, Washburrn noticed they were walking uneasily. “It doesn’t get any better then this,” he told Emit. “If it wasn’t raining, it wouldn’t be so bad.”

  “We keep moving. You don’t fool me, Washburrn—I know what you’re up to. You want to give your crew … or what’s left of them … a chance to come up with some sort of plan. But you can quit thinking about them because we’re not stopping ’til we reach our destination.”

  The steep, awkward trail was clustered with ancient tree roots that zigzagged across it like abstract steps. “In fact,” Washburrn said, “the enter mountainside’s covered with these tree roots.”

  About ten minutes of stomping through mud and balancing themselves on the slippery roots, they heard a scream. A tree root had stabbed Healcox from behind like the sting of a spear. The root went completely through him. Namferic drew his sword and went to his friend’s rescue. Seconds later a root grabbed Namferic’s leg. But as soon as he cut himself free another root stabbed him in the gut, and he too let out an awful scream.

  It was too late for Healcox. The tree roots had him completely in their grip, squeezing him to death.

  Jayden raised his pistol ready to fire. “No!” Mekon shoved his arm down, a sad look in his eyes. “Too much noise.”

  Suddenly Healcox was sucked into the ground.

  Namferic struggled as the roots pierced his flesh and wrapped around his neck. Mekon drew his sword and hatched at the mighty roots, but it was no use. While the others could only stand by and watch, Namferic screamed in agony. As Mekon slipped and rolled down the trail, Namferic was gone.

  Kyhawn slipped himself, lying there for a moment in pain. He took a deep breath, “That chest is at the bottom of this mountain. And who knows how many more of these white flower trees lay between us and it.” He spoke sharply. “We should wait until tomorrow when we’ll have better light.” With his hands bound behind his back and his wet hair in his face, he felt feverish as he gazed at the white flowers across the trail from him.

  At that moment an evil thought crossed his mind. If we continue on, I might just get a chance to shove Emit into that tree. And maybe Washburrn could shove Mekon into it as well. He shook off the thought. I can’t do it. I can’t just throw a Zac to his death like that. There has to be another way to end this craziness.

  “Are you okay, Kyhawn?” Washburrn stood helplessly just up the trail from him, struggling to keep his own balance. “Are you okay?” he repeated.

  Frustrated, Kyhawn responded, “What do you think?”

  Mekon pointed his dagger at Yamm, “Help him up so we can get away from here.” He looked around, expecting a tree root to pierce his own flesh and take him under.

  Kyhawn turned to Emit. “I don’t much care what we do. But let’s do something.” Seconds later a tree root stretched across the trail and reached for Kyhawn’s leg. He quickly pushed himself up the trail by kicking at the ordinary tree roots which grew across the trail. But then again… were they ordinary? He thought to himself as Yamm grabbed him and pulled him up to safer grounds.

  “This is crazy,” Kyhawn groaned. “We should go back.”

  “You don’t give the orders around here. Another word out of you, and we toss you to those roots,” Emit told him.

  “Yeah.” Jayden nodded, “We’ll give him what Namferic and Healcox got. We don’t need him anyhow.”

  Yamm wrapped his arms around himself as if he was uncannily cold. He was frightened, but much more concerned about the lost treasures of Kebadon.

  Mekon wiped the rain off his face and shook off his cloak. “If we stay out in this much longer, our pistols will become useless.”

  Emit thought he felt something press against his boot. He quickly moved forward, glanced over his shoulder, and tapped Washburrn’s arm with his dagger. “Lead the way.” He pointed his dagger toward the mountaintop. “We look for shelter, but only until the sky clears.” He turned and almost slipped. No one dared to crack a smile, or at least not one that could be seen.

  About fifteen twenty-five minutes later they had returned to the city of ruins and found a suitable place. “This one doesn’t leak too badly,” Mekon said as he took a quick look inside.

  “I’m coming down with a cold.” Yamm sneezed. His eyes watered, and like an invisible net, a pale shadow began to consume him.

  Mekon glanced at Yamm. “It’s that flu. You’re sure to get over it—the rest of us did.” He waved to the others to join them.

  Yamm peered out the empty window frame next to the door. “Yeah, it has a decent roof. At least on this end it does.”

  As they settled in for the wait, they lit five candles. Two rested on the fireplace while the other three were set on the dirt floor. Kyhawn and Washburrn sat alongside one another. Their backs were against the front entrance wall with a small empty window frame above them. To their left, a partial door hung loose, attached to the door frame only by sagging leather hinges. In the center, a beam kept the roof from caving in. Kyhawn stared at the fireplace, sensing the echoes of the past.

  As they sat around eating dried spider legs, Emit abruptly gave Yamm an unkind look. “I thought I told you to leave that mogg juice behind. You never listen, do you?”

  Yamm sat up, slightly shivering. He spit out a zuetia leaf. “These leaves aren’t doing me a bit of good. We don’t have any real medicine. If I drank some, I’d feel better.”

  Emit hesitated. “It is chilly out. All we have is water to drink, and we’re all wet to the bone. There’s no dry wood to make a fire.” His expression changed. “But I should smash this jug over your head. When I give you an order …” He snatched up the jug, popped the cork, and quenched his thrust. “Umm, this is tasty, and in a handsome glass jar at that. I think if Yamm’s going to drink, the lot of us should be able to enjoy a few sips as well. Keep the cold off.”

  The time passed. The storm continued to battle the decaying roof. As for the jar of mogg juice, it seemed to be taking its course as well. Washburrn and Kyhawn secretly smiled at one another.

  “What are you doing Jayden?” Emit grabbed the jar. “Don’t waste any on them.”

  “Oh, come now, Emit—let’s show some hospitality.” Jayden grinned as he leaned against the wall next to Washburrn.

  “Give it here.” Yamm sounded muddled, though somewhat relaxed. “They don’t need … any.”

  “I wouldn’t mind one drink. I’m parched.” Washburrn nudged Kyhawn.

  “I’d like a drink as well. I am thirsty.” Kyhawn pretended to smile.

  Jayden looked at Emit as though for approval. Though Emit frowned, he waved a hand, “Go on.”

  Jayden got on his knees. Kyhawn tilted his head back as Jayden fed him a quick drink, Kyhawn’s head tingled. He shook it a few time as the other had a good laugh while giving Washburrn too a quick drink.

  “That’s enough.” Emit reached for the jug. “Give it here, Jayden. We need to make a toast to Namferic and Healcox.”

  Mekon grabbed the jar from Jayden and glared at Emit. “You’re drunk. Talking about me in the past, not being able to handle my liquor!” Mekon went over to the door and slammed th
e jar against the wall.

  “Lighten up.” Jayden staggered toward him. “I was going to give some to … Yamm. Now you’ve gone and wasted some fine whiskey.” He shook a fist.

  Yamm reached into his cabac. “A … yeah … pretty strong … stuff.”

  “It was almost empty,” Mekon said, suddenly with a change of attitude his expression too quickly changed. “I’m sorry, Emit, but business is business.”

  Emit gestured for him to sit. “You’ve always been the one to keep me in line. That’s why I admire you so much.”

  Jayden rose and leaned against the center beam, looking friendly and loose. “I think we need to try and make a fire. Make us more content on this gravely cold wet night.” He grinned.

  Kyhawn glanced at Washburrn, then looked at his enemies as though he were continuing to relax.

  Jayden gazed at Kyhawn with a sense of pleasure, as though he was addicted to Zacterronian flesh. A brief moment later he stared at the ancient ceiling with a mysterious expression. Almost in a trance, he listened to the rain, then turned to Kyhawn, picked up a candle, and crouched in front of him. “Some young tender flesh to sink my teeth into … be mighty tasty.” He licked his lips, his hand on Kyhawn’s face. “Tastier than one of those Ooweds.”

  “Yeah … better then eight-legged fur balls.” Yamm burped. “Much tastier than spider legs.”

  Kyhawn jerked away, leaning against Washburrn for protection.

  “Oh come now, lad.” Jayden belched. “I was only joking.”

  “Hey—what do we have here?” Yamm grinned with delight. “Another jar of mogg juice.” Sweat ran down his yellow blemished face as he opened it, then quickly took a slobbering swallow. With another belch and a chuckle followed by a wide smile, he leaned toward Washburrn.

  Emit glared fiercely. “I thought you brought only one jar.” He reached across them and grabbed it.

  Washburrn and Kyhawn’s eyes met in a quick look of hope.

  Emit slapped Yamm across the face. “It’s not good enough you lying to me once, but twice?” He gulped a few ounces, then handed the jar to Jayden. With an angry stare, he grabbed Yamm’s shirt caller. “You—I should kill you where you sit. But I’m not, and do you know why? I’ll tell you—because I need you to help Jayden to carry my chest up this mountain, that’s why.” He let him loose. “Stand up.”

  Yamm staggered to his feet. “I … I was doing it for us. I know … I know how you like… to drink.”

  “I told you, no drinking until after the Double-Sun-Day.” Emit seemed to calm down, but then kneed Yamm in the stomach.

  Yamm keeled over and hit the dirt floor in pain.

  “That’ll teach you,” Emit sneered. “Damn idiot—you know I don’t like being lied to.” He turned to Jayden and grabbed the jar, then looked at Mekon. “Where are you going?”

  Mekon gave him a disappointed look. “Outside.” He stepped out into the rain though he was still protected somewhat by the eaves.

  “Don’t be long.” Emit plopped himself down next to the center beam. He gave Kyhawn and Washburrn a friendly look. “See, that’s what happens when they don’t obey me.”

  Washburrn gave Emit the look of an ally. “I don’t blame you one bit. He shouldn’t have lied to you.”

  “He’s a good Zac.” Emit retied his ponytail. “When he minds me, he’s a good Zac.” He belched.

  “I’m sure he is,” Kyhawn mumbled nervously.

  “What was that you said, kid?” Emit demanded.

  “I said,” Kyhawn nervously reassured him, “I’m sure he is a good Zac. I mean … that is… when he minds you.”

  Mekon stood outside thinking in his wise but sinister ways. He turned and smashed the rotten door against its frame as he entered. “Emit, you know what happens when you drink. What are you trying to do—destroy everything? The only reason we came on this cruise was to reclaim the ancient artifacts for the Grongels. Now look at you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re too unstable to ever become high priest.”

  Emit had been sitting next to Jayden enjoying himself, but his expression quickly changed. He got to his feet and shouted. “It’s hardly raining—let’s get this over with so we can have that chest back at the temple before sunrise.”

  The white flower trees crossed Kyhawn’s mind. He glanced at Washburrn, who was looking at Mekon.

  “Okay,” Mekon responded. “Then let’s be done with it. We’ll use the lanterns. If we run out of lamp oil, we still have plenty of candles.”

  “All right, no more drinking,” Emit said, “until we have the canister in our hands.” He belched again as he grabbed Jayden by the arm. “Find the cork. But while you’re at it, you can give me the jar.”

  “Wait.” Jayden pushed Emit’s hand away. “If you’re going to take another drink, I feel it only fair I take one too. I also feel we should give our friends another swig.” He staggered to his feet, pushed Emit backward, and poured mogg juice over Washburrn’s head. Washburrn quickly moved toward Kyhawn.

  Mekon stood at the door looking quite impatient with them.

  Emit got up and slugged Jayden in the side. “I wasn’t going to take another drink—you fool.”

  “You should never be a high priest!” Jayden repeated, slamming the jug over Emit’s head. Emit stumbled face first onto the dirt floor. Not moving, he lay a few feet from Yamm, who by this time seemed too ill to care about anything but a warm fire and a good nap.

  When Washburrn and Kyhawn looked at each other, Washburrn raised an eyebrow and winked. Kyhawn wasn’t quite sure what the wink meant, but he knew whatever it meant he needed to be ready.

  Mekon took hold of Jayden. “Every time you two get this way, it never fails to cause some kind of disaster. Why do I put up with this rubbish …?” He glanced out the window, noticing the sky was starting to clear. “Now let’s get a move on before Captain Joenf decides to come up here after us,” he said nudging Emit’s side with his boot. “We’re heading out Emit.”

  Jayden belched. “I’ll tell you way you put up with our rubbish… because you like us.” He spoke as though he were enjoying the fight. He waved a busted glass jug at Mekon. “You want some?”

  “Put your hands over mine,” Washburrn whispered.

  When their hands met, Kyhawn felt something moving back and forth over the twine binding his wrists.

  Yamm’s mouth opened wide with surprise. He twitched his eyelids. “Hey! What the …?”

  Mekon glanced at Washburrn and Kyhawn and then reached for his dagger.

  Jayden, who wasn’t paying attention, thought Mekon had pulled the dagger on him. Jayden swung the busted jug and slashed Mekon’s arm.

  “You ignorant drunk—they’re trying to escape!” Mekon pointed his dagger at Jayden while grasping his wound. “You got my arm, you fool.”

  Washburrn pushed Kyhawn over to the far side opposite Mekon and Jayden, then jumped on top of Yamm and knocked him out. He grabbed Yamm’s pistol and got on his knees behind him.

  Kyhawn didn’t waste any time in crawling behind Washburrn, who had the pistol pointed at Mekon and Jayden.

  Washburrn reached for Yamm’s dagger and quickly slapped it into Kyhawn’s hand.

  Washburrn glared at them fearlessly. “Seems the plans have changed again. Drop your weapons and come quietly with us before someone else gets hurt. The choice is yours.”

  “You only have one shot, and there’s two of us. What’s it going to be?” Mekon asked as he and Jayden stood in the center of the ruin. To their left rain dripped from the decaying ceiling onto the muddy floor behind them.

  Washburrn knew they had to do something before Emit recovered. Kyhawn whispered into Washburrn’s ear.

  Washburrn nodded. Kyhawn was reaching into Yamm’s pockets when all of a sudden Yamm started to struggle with Washburrn. Washburrn grabbed Yamm, got to his feet, and pushed him into Jayden. Yamm and Jayden stumbled and knocked a candle over into a small puddle before falling to the floor.

  Mekon hurled his dagger at
Washburrn, who ducked. The dagger struck the wall behind him and fell to the dirt floor.

  Washburrn fired the pistol, hitting Mekon dead center in the chest. “Reload it,” he ordered, shoving the pistol at Kyhawn. He dove for Mekon’s dagger.

  Kyhawn trembled as he tried to stick the pellet in.

  Jayden pushed Yamm aside and got to his feet with his dagger in hand. Blood dripped from his forehead into his eye. He blinked repeatedly, reached for his pistol, and pulled the trigger. When it didn’t fire, he threw it at Kyhawn. The pistol bounced off Kyhawn’s shoulder, landed on a flat stone, and fired. The pellet whistled by Washburrn’s head and through the ceiling.

  Jayden now stood with a sword in one hand and his dagger in the other, ready to attack. This was his moment, he thought, a look of victory in his wild youthful eyes.

  Kyhawn glanced back and forth at Jayden and the pistol he was still trying to reload. Washburrn turned in time to see Jayden going after Kyhawn. Washburrn hurled his dagger at Jayden, who leaned to avoid it. The dagger flew past Jayden and chipped the wall behind him.

  Kyhawn cocked the trigger. He was speechless. Fear in his dark brown eyes, he pointed the pistol at the Grongel necklace hanging around Jayden’s neck.

  Jayden gripped his dagger in one hand and arched his sword over his head with the other. He was about to attack Kyhawn when Washburrn came at him from the side. Jayden swung at Washburrn, but Washburrn lay low as the sword went over his head. Washburrn quickly swung his leg around and swept Jayden off his feet. When Jayden dropped his sword, Washburrn jumped on top of him and they rolled in the mud, struggling to dominate the dagger each of them gripped firmly.

  Now on the dry half of the ruin, Kyhawn pointed his pistol at them. He glanced at Yamm, Emit, and Mekon. All three appeared dead. He waited nervously for a chance to fire at Jayden. But with only two candles lit, and a tree limb slapping against the ruin, distorted shadows jeopardized his aim. He was afraid he might hit Washburrn. He glanced at Emit again, thinking he saw him move. He hesitated, then slowly went to him with a look of both fear and anger in his eyes.

  Emit lay still.

  Kyhawn reached for Emit’s pistol, but found the holster empty. He grabbed Emit’s dagger and got to his feet. He looked back and forth from Washburrn and Jayden’s fight to Emit.

  Kyhawn couldn’t help but think the worst as he saw his friend and mentor in the mud, with Jayden’s dagger pointing at his throat. Kyhawn dropped to his knees, ready to fire his pistol at Jayden.

  Emit grabbed Kyhawn’s leg. Kyhawn twisted himself free, dropping his dagger but holding firm his pistol aimed at Emit’s head. “Try me—you slivering lowlife lizard of a Zac!”

  “You won’t pull the trigger, kid. You’ve never killed a Zac in your life, have you?”

  “It doesn’t matter—now does it…?” Kyhawn exclaimed.

  As Washburrn felt the sharp edge of Jayden’s dagger, he struggled, forcing the dagger away from his face. As they fought with all they had to give, the dagger danced between life and death for one or the other.

  The dagger plunged into the dirt. Jayden’s hands slipped. Washburrn pushed him away and grabbed the blade. Blood dripped from his long silverish-blue fingers as he jumped to his feet, stepped back, and hurled it at Jayden.

  The dagger propelled itself through the air hitting Jayden dead center in the gut, but it was the hilt that got him, not the blade.

  For a split second, Jayden thought his life had ended. Washburrn kicked him in the face. The back of Jayden’s head hit hard against the floor.

  In the heat of the moment, Washburrn glanced at Kyhawn, then dove for the dagger. He grabbed it and stuck it deep into Jayden’s ribcage, then gave it a twist and abruptly pulled it out as Jayden’s eyes widened with pain. He could see the flames of hell as he drew his last breath.

  Half out of it, Yamm felt an object wedged between him and the dry dirt floor. He pulled a pistol from beneath, and with a grin, aimed it at Kyhawn. “You kill Emit—and I kill you,” he said as he spit dirt from his mouth and slowly rose with his back to the wall.

  Kyhawn didn’t even acknowledge him. But Emit nodded at Yamm.

  About the same time, in the dark shadows of one remaining candle, Yamm noticed Washburrn standing in the dark. Yamm waved his pistol back and forth between them.

  “Kyhawn, keep your eyes on Emit,” Washburrn told him, dagger in one hand, sword in the other. “I’ll take care of this one.”

  Yamm sneezed.

  Washburrn threw his bloody dagger at Yamm.

  Yamm fired his pistol at Washburrn, then bent over, staggered out the doorway, and fell face first into the mud. The dagger plunged ever deeper into his gut.

  With one candle still burning, Emit got to his feet, sword in hand. “Kid, you’re not going to kill me.” He dropped his sword and took the dagger-key from his inside pocket. “I was the one who took a shot at you before you boarded the Sealander,” he said. “I was told to kill you then. I won’t fail this time.”

  Kyhawn’s eyes showed his fear and dreadful sense of betrayal. He wanted to pull the trigger, but didn’t. “You missed me then. And … and now I have the faster weapon. Call me kid once more, and I will pull this trigger.” He looked over to where he had last seen Washburrn and called to him, but didn’t get an answer.

  Emit knew Kyhawn had the advantage over him. “Come now,” Emit said, “you let me leave, and I won’t bother you anymore.” He slowly began to move toward Kyhawn, then swiftly tossed a fistful of dirt at him.

  Kyhawn jumped back to avoid the dirt and landed on his rear end. “Any closer and I’ll shoot,” he threatened. With his pistol aimed at Emit, he rubbed his eyes with his other hand.

  Emit stood a few feet in front of him, dagger-key in hand. “I don’t think you have what it takes.” Blood dripped from his forehead. “You don’t have your old friend to help you anymore. Didn’t you hear that last pistol fire? The old fool’s dead. It’s you and me, kid. What do you say? You might as well let me walk free. It’s only you and me … you and me …” Emit wiped some blood from his eye and gave an evil cry. “Only you and me .…”

  Kyhawn looked him straight in the eye. What do I do next? I’ve never killed a Zac before. I’ve never been in anything like this situation. I knew some day I might be … just didn’t think it’d be so soon. If I let him go, I might regret it later. He glanced at Washburrn lying in the darkness.

  “You’re not going to fire that pistol, kid.” Emit took a step forward with open arms. “Let’s be truthful—neither is Washburrn. He’s dead.” He drew near and crouched with a sudden sense of calmness. “If you let me go, you might get out of this alive.” He paused. “Now give me that pistol and I’ll let you live.” He stepped back a few feet as though he’d lost his balance. “That’s some powerful whisky.” He tried to shake off the effects of the alcohol.

  Kyhawn stared at him as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do next.

  “Come now kid, what do you say?”

  Kyhawn eased back, his back to the wall. He slowly rose, then wiped a drop of rain from his face. Emit jumped forward, knocking the pistol from Kyhawn’s hand. Kyhawn stared at the dagger-key in disbelief as Emit swiftly moved in to stab him with it. But when the blade touched Kyhawn, it instantly turned into sand and crumbled in Emit’s hand. Emit jumped back, his eyes lit up in fright. “Now I know why the high priest wanted you dead.”

  Kyhawn reached for the pistol. In one motion he grabbed it, spun around, and pointed it at Emit. “That key has a tendency to do that,” he said with a smile, trying to hide his fear.

  Emit gripped the remaining sand in his hand from the dagger-key. Suddenly feeling it burning his hand, he tossed it at Kyhawn. The moment the sand touched Kyhawn, the dagger-key appeared and fell at Kyhawn’s feet.

  As it did so, Emit grabbed the pistol and Kyhawn’s wrist. But Kyhawn held the pistol firmly as they struggled. The pistol fired and Kyhawn fell back into the wall. Emit stumbled to the floor as Kyhawn got to h
is feet. He gripped the pistol to bust Emit over the head. But instead he found himself staring at the dagger-key, feeling a sense of calmness coming from it. He dropped the pistol and leaned against the wall, somewhat dazed.

  Emit stared at the ceiling and took a deep breath, gasping for air, but then there was nothing but silence. He’s dead, Kyhawn thought as he rushed to Washburrn. “Washburrn,” he cried as he laid a hand on his shoulder. With his other hand he tried to wipe the tears from his face.

  Washburrn’s arms twitched.

  “You’re alive!” Kyhawn again looked hopeful. He ran his fingers across his forehead, removing his wet hair from his bruised face. “Say something.”

  Washburrn moaned. “Well, did you think I was going to let you bury me on this forsaken island?”

  “I thought for sure you were dead.”

  “That’s what you get for letting that beast ramble on for so long,” Washburrn grumbled. “Help me up.”

  “Is it bad?” Kyhawn asked as he reached around him.

  “It’s not good … but then, it never is. It feels … I think the pellet’s above my lung.” He took a deep breath. “If I can get the bleeding to stop, I’ll … I’ll survive.”

  “You’re bleeding all over yourself.”

  “Odds are … it’ll stop … soon enough,” Washburrn moaned, as he looked across the dirt floor at the bodies. “Take one of their shirts off and bring it to me.”

  Kyhawn stared at him oddly. “Take off one of their shirts …?”

  “Please do as I say. It’s to stop the bleeding. But be careful—one of them might still be alive.”

  Without any further delay, Kyhawn crouched over Jayden’s body, tearing off his cloak and then his shirt. He used his dagger to cut it into strips, then went back to help Washburrn cover his wound.

  “My arm …” Washburrn complained. “Feels it went bad on me.”

  “I don’t see any wounds there,” Kyhawn noted as he held onto the arm.

  Washburrn once again looked at the bodies. “Gather their weapons and anything else you think we might be able to use.”

  Kyhawn nodded. His expression changed when he suddenly remembered, “Jayden and Yamm took our map and colored stones. One of them should have them.” He stood over Jayden’s body, then went through their things, salvaging what he could. “Here’s the map of the island. But I can only find a few colored stones.” He was anxious to leave the ruin. “They took that old box from me. The one I wanted to show you before all of this happened,” he explained while emptying out Yamm’s cabac. “Here’s the rest of the stones.” He stuffed them in his pocket, then remembered the dagger-key. He searched for it, but only found a small lump of white sand. “Did you see that, Washburrn? I mean that key … the dagger-key. He tried to kill me with it, but he couldn’t. Did you see it turn into sand when he tried to stab me?”

  “No, I didn’t. Please Kyhawn, help me up.”

  “Emit told me he was the one who shot at us before we boarded the Sealander.” Kyhawn leaned close. “Has the bleeding stopped?”

  “It’s slowed,” Washburrn said. “And you know, I heard every word he spoke.” He moaned. “Better … give me a hand.” Weak but able, Washburrn got to his feet.

  Shortly after with one cabac full of supplies, and weapons hanging from Kyhawn’s shoulders, they left the ruin. Washburrn walked with one hand on Kyhawn’s shoulder.

  Kyhawn gave him an odd look. “You mean while I was pointing a pistol at Emit, you were lying in the mud listening to every word that barmy Zac was spitting out? And you didn’t do a thing to help?”

  “It’s not as simple as all that. I could hear you. I wanted to help, but I couldn’t rouse myself fully. It happens sometimes when you get shot. But then, you’ve never been.”

  “No, I haven’t. You make it sound like you were in a bad dream you couldn’t wake up from.”

  “Bad dream … I wish that were all this place was, a bad dream. You and your dreams.” Washburrn cracked a thin smile, obviously still in pain.

  “Put your arm around me,” Kyhawn insisted. “We have a long walk before us.”

  As they continued to walk Kyhawn’s thoughts drifted back to the dagger-key. “What do you think Emit meant when he said this high priest, he was talking about, wanted me dead. I mean, it was me he was trying to kill in the carriage the morning we departed Omakohak?”

  “Sounded like to me, he might have mistaken you for someone else.” Washburrn turned his head toward Kyhawn. “But then again maybe he didn’t.” he questioned his own words. “Perhaps there is something about you that you have not yet discovered about yourself. Nonetheless, you’re special to me.” He slightly smiled, his hand on Kyhawn’s shoulder. He pulled him close.

  “Me … special?” Kyhawn pondered the thought.

  As they drew closer to the temple ruin, Washburrn told him about his encounter with Earron and Coita, the old box, and the fact that he had sent them back to camp with the box knowing they most likely told everyone what he was doing. Suddenly Washburrn felt numb. Kyhawn eased him down in front of a ruin similar to the one they had just left, and then knelt beside him.

  “My wound’s starting to bleed again. I’ll tell you what—go to the temple and have a look. No, go to the main trail. I’m sure the others are on their way by now.”

  “Are you going to be all right, here by yourself?”

  “If you hurry, I might.”

  Kyhawn dropped his things and rushed toward the main trail. From out of the night, a familiar voice summoned him. “Kyhawn, is that you? Over here—we’re over here.”

  Kyhawn turned. “Is that you … Earron?”

  A Zac appeared from behind a ruin, sword in hand. “Yeah.”

  Kyhawn was relieved to hear Earron’s voice, “Am I glad to see you.” He looked further on, beyond his good friend. “You didn’t come up here alone, did you?”

  “No— I’m not that barmy. Coita, Alil, Zeal, and the rest are behind me a ways.” Earron seemed relieved as he greeted him. “You look as though you’ve taken a mud bath down a rocky path,” he said shaking his head as they embraced.

  Kyhawn eased back. “Come on. Washburrn’s badly hurt. He’s over here lying against one of these ruins.”

  “What happened?”

  “Don’t ask.”

  “Did you have to give them that chest?” Earron curiously asked, hesitating to follow Kyhawn. “Did you?”

  “No. They’re all dead. Come-on.”

  “Please Kyhawn. We should wait for the others.”

  Suddenly from out of the deep gray early morning, lights began to appear over the mountaintop coming from the main trail.

  “Kyhawn’s here. He’s okay.” Earron waved at them.

  “Washburrn’s over there.” Kyhawn pointed. “He’s hurt bad.”

  “What about those Grongels?” Alil asked as they approached with caution, weapons ready.

  “They’re dead,” Earron said calmly.

  “They’re all dead,” Kyhawn announced, sounding like he had woken up from a nightmare. “It’s over,” he mumbled.

  “Where did you say Washburrn was?” Captain Joenf asked, quickly adding in a concerned tone, “Why isn’t he with you? If he went and got himself killed—”

  “Washburrn’s over that way, resting. We need to get him to camp,” Kyhawn told them. “This way—come on.”

  When they approached Washburrn, he was laying flat on his back.

  “Washburrn …” Kyhawn ran to his side, dropped to his knees, and placed his hand on Washburrn’s heart. “He’s not dead.” Kyhawn announced. “He’s still breathing.” He held both of his hands with concern, “Washburrn—can you hear me?”

  “Old fool. Is he dead?” Captain Joenf hobbled behind them mumbling a few choice words.

  Washburrn opened his eyes and glanced at everyone around him. “What happened?”

  “Apparently you just passed out,” Kyhawn said, relieved. “Do you think you can make it down the mountain?”
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  Washburrn spoke slowly. “Well … I’ll give it my best.”

  “Someone help me get him up.” Kyhawn gestured at Treb. “We need to get him down the mountain—quick.”

  Earron and Coita stood beside Kyhawn and picked up the cabac and weapons he’d dropped. “Thanks, you guys,” Kyhawn said as he and Treb helped Washburrn to his feet.

  “I slipped,” Washburrn said somewhat drowsily.

  “We got you,” Kyhawn assured him. “You’re going to be fine,” he said, although he sounded somewhat unsure of himself.

  Werdna came up, slinging his straw hat back. “Step aside, Kyhawn. You’re in no shape to help anyone.”

  Kyhawn hesitated, bowed slightly, then moved out of the way to let Werdna take Washburrn’s shoulder.

  Alil looked at Washburrn in relief, then embraced Kyhawn. “You both sure gave us a scare.” She glanced at Earron and Coita. “What’s all of that you’re carrying?”

  Kyhawn stepped back from her embrace and slightly smiled at Earron and Coita. They shrugged. Earron nodded his head toward Kyhawn.

  “Just supplies we might need,” Kyhawn told her. “Which reminds me, we need to go to that temple,” he pointed. “They left more supplies there. And the Captain’s chest, that small one he spoke of—I’m quite sure it’s the one that contains those old books and documents.” Kyhawn quickly explained to her about the hidden cellar and where it was located.

  Alil’s eyes lit up. She turned and called out, “Captain, we’ve located your chest. We’re going after it.” She turned to Kyhawn, Earron, and Coita. “You all go on. I’m sure we can locate the cellar on our own. Go on. We’ll catch up with you later.”

  The captain came over. “I’m going with you,” he said, but then thought twice about his leg as he waved an arm. “Nevermind—go on without me. And be careful,” he said as Alil and a few others headed for the temple.

  While Treb and Werdna helped Washburrn down the mountain, Treb glanced at him. “You smell of liquor.”

  Werdna took in a deep breath. “You certainly do.”

  “Long story, tell you … about it later.” Washburrn moaned. The captain walked alongside them lecturing him about going to the temple alone.

  As Kyhawn, Earron, and Coita followed close behind, Kyhawn told them everything, except for the part about some high priest wanting to kill him before they had departed Omakohak. The captain’s words about keeping the carriage incident quiet echoed his mind. Then for a brief moment he found himself in deep thought. The dagger-key, the ancient artifacts, some high priest wanting me dead, but why? And with all he had learned from Washburrn and the others, and his dreams, he knew it wasn’t over. He glanced at Earron and Coita, and told them about the dagger-key and how it turned into sand when Emit tried to kill him with it. Earron said excitedly, “It is a magical key.”

  Coita shook his head. Despite what he’d seen, he doubted Kyhawn’s words.