Tales from Dargo Island: The Complete Trilogy

by Jerry Hart

  “Are you, now?” The tree leaned back, studying her. “Why are they after you?”

  “I can’t tell you.” She clutched the green gem tighter.

  “Your secrets are your own, child, but you won’t find much sanctuary in these old woods. Lacey is your best chance.”

  “I can hide there?”

  “No, but you can find someone who can hide you. There lives an old man who once helped me. I was running away from something that wanted to kill me, something that is good at finding what it wants. There was only one way to hide.”

  “What would want to kill you?” Rapatha asked, genuinely curious. “You seem so kind.”

  “Well, I speak not the correct words for my situation. The ones after me didn’t want to kill me in the true sense, but rather kill my spirit. I am running away from my family.”

  Rapatha gasped. “I understand. I, too, am running away from my family.”

  “I thought you were running away from a wizard.”

  “Him, too.”

  “Then I suggest you visit the one I spoke of, in Lacey. He will help you. The town is not far from here.”

  The tree gave her directions, and now she was there. Before she’d left the camp, she turned to her new friend and said, “Are there many talking trees in Lacey?”

  The tree laughed and said, “I was not always a tree.” Then he wandered deep into the woods without another word.

  Walking through Lacey wasn’t like Rapatha expected. The whole town was damp and smelly, as if it rained often. She passed two giants, having to step aside to let them pass. They were the skinniest giants she’d ever seen, with the palest skin. A smaller giant struggled behind its fellows. It gave Rapatha a grin as it walked by.

  As soon as it passed, a dark blur clouded her vision. She smelled rancid meat and felt very cold. The blur headed toward the giant, engulfing it. The large creature dropped to the ground, moaning in pain.

  Rapatha stood there for a moment, frightened by what she saw. She didn’t know what the monster was that attacked the giant, but she didn’t like it one bit. “Get away from him!” she yelled at the creature.

  The monster, which looked like a hideous ape with wings, looked over its shoulder at her. It smiled, blood coating most of its face. The other giants had rounded a corner and didn’t know what was happening.

  “I said, get away from him!”

  Rapatha removed her necklace. A sudden wind howled through the alley, striking the monster. It struck one wall, and then another, as if the wind was alive and malicious, eager to cause as much pain as possible. The bloodsucker fell to the cobbled stones and hissed at Rapatha, drawing the other giants back into the alley. The vampire fled into the air. Rapatha put the necklace back on and replaced the hood over her reddish-brown hair.

  The little giant smiled at her again, this time in appreciation, as its fellows carried it away. Rapatha turned and continued on her way. After a moment she reached a lonely little shop nestled between two bigger ones. The sign overhead was a faded yellow that read “The Narrow Shoppe.” This was the place the tree told her about, so she took a breath and walked inside.

  The shop was, indeed, narrow. There was barely enough room for two people to stand side-by-side, considering there were shelves lining both walls. They were littered with cloths and scrolls, herbs and dolls. The place was crowded but cozy.

  “Welcome to The Narrow Shoppe in the Land of Constant Starlight, may I help you?” a voice asked from the other end of the shop, startling Rapatha.

  She saw a silhouette behind a counter. She slowly walked toward it, trying not to grab her necklace again; the tree had told her about the owner’s greediness. She made sure to keep it covered with her cloak as she approached the figure. His features became more pronounced: His skin was pale, his hair short, blond and styled into spikes by some kind of grease. His eyebrows were very thin.

  And then there were his eyes, which were the color of limes.

  “I was told you could help me,” she said.

  “Well, that depends,” the man replied in a silky voice. “What do you need help with?”

  “I need to hide.”

  “Oh, well that sounds familiar. Did you happen to speak with a tree?”

  “Yes.” She laughed lightly, looking around the tiny shop. “Though, I can’t imagine a tree walking in here.”

  “He wasn’t always a tree, darling.”

  “He told me that. What was he?”

  “Let’s just say he wasn’t always a tree. I don’t like to tell my clients’ business, if you understand. He’s well hidden from his pursuers, however.”

  “I wish to be similarly hidden,” Rapatha said quickly, excited by the thought of escaping her own pursuer.

  “Of course, my dear. First, you must tell me why you want to hide.”

  The tree hadn’t told her this part, and she hoped she wasn’t being taken advantage of. She sighed and said, “I wish to hide from my family.”

  “And?”

  “And a wizard.”

  The man raised a thin eyebrow. “Interesting. There aren’t many wizards left. Which one do you wish to hide from?”

  “Rockne.”

  The owner clapped his pale hands to his face. “He’s the nasty one. We all wish to hide from that one. I believe I can help…for the right price.”

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “What do you have?”

  “I have gold.”

  The man shook his head. “I have no need for gold.” He casually looked over his shoulder, and Rapatha noticed a shelf of jars filled with golden mist. He looked back to her quickly, as if angry he’d drawn her attention to the jars. “My price is something that can’t be measured, something very precious to each customer.”

  Rapatha reached for the necklace, she couldn’t help it.

  The owner laughed. “It’s nothing that can be worn, either, I assure you. It’s your essence.”

  “My what?”

  “Your essence. That’s what I call your life force.”

  Rapatha had no idea what he was talking about, but it didn’t sound good. “How do I give that to you?”

  The owner laughed. “With a kiss, of course.”

  “You want me to kiss you?”

  “Well, I don’t want you to kiss me, but that’s the way the transaction works.”

  “How much of my ‘essence’ do you take?”

  “Just a taste. You won’t even notice it’s gone.”

  Rapatha thought about her situation, about the life she wanted to escape. Giving away a small dose of her life force sounded like a decent trade, as long as it didn’t hurt her.

  “All right,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

  Rapatha’s skin tingled. She recognized that feeling and knew it was bad. The shop’s door opened behind her. She leapt behind a rack of coats on one side of the narrow shop. She couldn’t see who’d entered, but she knew who it was.

  “Hello,” a voice said.

  “Welcome,” the owner replied. “How may I help you this constant evening?”

  The figure was still out of view, but Rapatha knew who it was. Only one person made her feel this way.

  “I’m looking for someone. I was told she was in this…beautiful town of yours.”

  “What does she look like? Perhaps I’ve seen her.”

  The man took a step closer, and Rapatha managed to see his chest. He was wearing a dark-blue jacket, the buttons an even darker shade. “She’s very beautiful,” he replied. “I’ve seen the women of this town; I’m sure you would remember this one.”

  The owner laughed. “I’ll overlook the slight to my cherished home because you happen to be correct. However, I can’t say I’ve met any beautiful women as of late.”

  There was a long silence, and Rapatha realized she was holding her breath. She let it go slowly and took another, breathing in the musty coats behind which she hid.

  “What’s your name, friend?” the visitor asked.


  “Wesonger. Yours?”

  “Rockne.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Rockne. You wouldn’t happen to be the Rockne, of the wizardly brothers?”

  A short pause. “Why, yes, I am.”

  “And would your brother, Nalke, happen to be here as well?”

  “No. I am alone.”

  “Who is this woman to you?” Wesonger asked. “The one you seek.”

  Rockne laughed. “She’s a friend.”

  “Oh, come now!” Wesonger sounded delightedly doubtful. “No one comes to Lacey to search for just a friend. She must be more to you. A lover, perhaps?”

  Rockne stepped closer. Rapatha could see his face now. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes heavily lidded. His long brown hair was slicked back. She used to find him handsome, but now…

  “She’s not my lover,” he told Wesonger. “Are you sure you haven’t seen her? It’s important that I find her.”

  “Why so?”

  “You ask a lot of questions for someone who knows nothing of what I seek.”

  Rockne grabbed Wesonger by the neck and pulled him closer. The action had been so fast Rapatha felt she would’ve missed it entirely had she blinked.

  “I’ll give you one last chance to tell me the truth,” Rockne whispered. “Have you seen my friend?”

  Rapatha held back a gasp when she noticed the shop owner’s nose bleeding. He looked frightened.

  “I swear I have not seen her,” he said hoarsely through Rockne’s grip.

  Rockne held him a few seconds longer, and then let him go. “Thank you for your time, incubus.” He turned and left.

  Rapatha waited a moment before retreating from her hiding place. “I apologize for him. Now you see why I wish to hide.”

  Wesonger wiped the blood from his nose. “Indeed. I can help you. In exchange for that kiss, of course.”

  Rapatha looked at the jars again. “Rockne called you an incubus?”

  “Yes. I’ve been alive for longer than you can possibly imagine and plan to keep being so.”

  Rapatha reached for her necklace again before catching herself. “I can imagine, actually. Have you done anything important with your long life?”

  “Are you prepared to pay the price or not?” Wesonger asked with a bit of impatience, ignoring her question.

  “Yes. I am.”

  “Then kiss me.”

  Rapatha stepped closer and leaned on the counter. She closed her eyes and got closer. She could smell tobacco on his breath, and it wasn’t unpleasant. She reached out with her lips.

  A moment later, her lips met his.

  And then she found herself breathless. It surely wasn’t because she enjoyed the kiss. She felt her life force being drawn out of her, causing her to grow dizzier by the second. She tried to pull away but Wesonger held on to her shoulders.

  Rapatha reached up to his face and scratched his cheek. He finally let her go. When she opened her eyes, the dim light made her head hurt. She felt close to vomiting. Wesonger reached for an empty jar and deposited her force into it.

  “My, oh my,” he said, grabbing another jar from the shelf and taking a sip of the golden vapor. The face scratches healed instantly. “You are unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “Tell me how to hide,” she commanded, her breath coming more easily.

  He placed the jar on the counter between them and reached down for something. When his hand returned, it held a brown bag.

  “Eat these and you shall be hidden.”

  She took the bag and looked inside. “Beans?”

  “They’re more than beans. Simply swallow them and Rockne will never be able to find you. No one will.”

  Rapatha stared at him, incredulous, but then nodded. “Thank you.”

  When she got to the door, Wesonger said, “Make sure you’re in the water when you swallow the beans.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the magic works better that way. Goodbye.”

  He took the jar and disappeared to the rear of the shop. Rapatha left and kept an eye out for Rockne. She managed to get to the lake at the edge of the town, took the small green beans from the bag, and swallowed them. They were flavorless.

  She stood in the water, her cloak billowing up around her. The ocean reflected perfectly the brightest stars above. The water was cold, but she barely noticed because her stomach rumbled. Something was happening, and it didn’t feel pleasant.

  Suddenly, her hands felt numb. She looked at them and saw they were gray and hard, like rock. “What is happening to me?” she asked herself, frightened by what she saw.

  * * *

  The giants wandered along the edge of Lacey. The tiny giant noticed a large rock floating along the surface. For some reason, it looked like the most beautiful rock he’d ever seen. And it appeared to be growing.

  Chapter 1: Snow Day

  “Happy Snow Day, Queen Aneela,” a maid greeted.

  “Happy Snow Day, Wilhelmina.” Aneela, queen of Dargo Island, walked through her palace with a smile on her face. The smile was a mask for her true feelings, however. She was on her way to visit someone she didn’t want to see.

  Andor. He was a traitor who had unleashed a dangerous wizard from his prison and nearly caused the extinction of the entire planet. He was currently being held in his own cell in a dungeon beneath the palace.

  Aneela, wearing a blue robe that felt way too big for her, walked quickly down a circular stairwell. She had left her husband, Rhys, in bed because she knew he would want to escort her. He used to be the commander of her army, but she had loved him for a long time, and he had loved her. They had managed to keep their relationship a secret from everyone, though after nearly being decimated by a plague unleashed by the wizard Dargonius, they’d decided life was too short.

  When Aneela reached the dungeon, she greeted the man guarding Andor. He still wore the traditional blue-and-yellow paint on his face, though she had deemed it unnecessary. The paint had been used long ago, before her people developed their own language. It was meant to convey emotions to others. The guard hadn’t yet grown out of the habit, even though it had been nearly a year since the change in tradition.

  He snapped to attention. “Your Majesty.”

  “Greetings, Malax. At ease.”

  He stood relaxed as he smiled at her. He couldn’t be much older than her twenty years.

  “I’ve come to speak with the prisoner,” she said. “I would like to be alone.”

  “But, Your Majesty—”

  She held up a hand. “I will be quite all right with him. He’s not as dangerous as he’d like you to believe. He’s merely a traitor. If you would, please wait outside the dungeon. I will call on you if I need you.”

  Malax nodded and left Aneela alone with Andor.

  Aneela peered through the bars, into the dark cell. She saw movement to the right. Someone was sitting on a small bed. The dungeon was lit by torches, but none were close enough to shine into the cell.

  “‘Queen’ Aneela,” a rough voice said from within. “What brings you down here to this wonderful paradise?”

  “I’ve come to see how you’re doing. You’ve been locked away for nearly a year. How do you feel?”

  “How do you think I feel? My son died of the plague because you refused to release Dargo from his prison, so I took matters into my own hands. And now I’m in my own prison.”

  She sighed. “I’m terribly sorry about your son. But what you did nearly destroyed the rest of the planet. I couldn’t allow that.”

  He appeared before her, so close she could smell his unwashed body. “What if it had been your son stricken with the plague?” he asked. “What would you have done then? What if the little prince had been dying?”

  Aneela had anticipated that question, but it still shocked her. “I…don’t know what I would have done.”

  “Exactly!” Andor spun around and then locked eyes with her again. “How old is he?”

  “A month.”

  “A month?
What a magical age. I remember when my own son was a month old.” There was so much anger in his voice that Aneela couldn’t help but step away from the bars.

  “If I could bring him back, Andor, I would.”

  “Would you, now? Somehow, I don’t think you truly mean it.”

  “I do mean it.”

  “What would you do to bring back my son?” Andor’s eyes were wide with curiosity. “I already know you wouldn’t let the plague wipe out the unknown world, the world we are not a part of. What else could you possibly do if you couldn’t do that?”

  Aneela didn’t have a response. She simply stood there and stared at him.

  He turned back to his bed and said, “I know what I would do.”

  “Oh? And what’s that?”

  He lay down on the mattress and said, “I’d kill everyone on this island.”

  He stared at her from the darkness. She tried to stare back, but the longer she stood there, the more uncomfortable she grew. She left the dungeon and let Malax resume his watch.

  Aneela left the stifling dungeon and walked into the palace courtyard. It was a winter wonderland.

  The courtyard was covered in the whitest, purest snow. People danced around, wearing white robes and crystallized masks. It was a tradition nearly as old as the island itself. For some reason, it only snowed every five years on Dargo Island. In the old days, the islanders started wearing ice-blue masks that stood out from the white of the snow and danced among the courtyard. Only one part of the island was constantly covered in snow, but that was a result of magic. This snow was natural. The dances were spontaneous but had managed to become highly synchronized. Dargonians were simply in tune with each other.

  They danced in a large circle, waving their arms in a way that would make you think of wind flowing through the air.

  Aneela returned to her bedchamber, where she found her husband still sleeping peacefully. She walked over to a crib at the foot of the bed and checked on her son, Joshua. He was a chubby baby, with wild spouts of blond hair on his head. He was asleep as well, and she gently touched his face. Then she lay down next to Rhys and tried to go back to sleep.

  “Why did you go down there again?” he asked, startling her.