Potlendh

by David J. Wallis

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  DARK CITY

  “Those poor Dwarves,” Karen lamented after a while, when it seemed that their situation had settled down. She did not want to think about what the monster would do to them. Yet, she could not help but feel the monster had actually eaten them.

  “What?” Carl exploded. “What about us? They abandoned us!”

  “I wouldn’t over-worry too much about the Dwarves,” Uniqua said quietly. “Unless the monster has a taste for rock—which I doubt—I think they’ll be just fine.”

  “You’re too forgiving, Uniqua,” Cassandra piped. “We made a promise, a bargain. They broke that promise when they jumped overboard.”

  “True,” the Unicorn agreed. “But just the same, we will keep our end of the deal.”

  “How?” Carl quickly jumped in, but Cassandra was not finished.

  “We’re lost, Uniqua. It’s pitch black in here. We have no poles to steer us. And even if we did, we have no idea where to go. This tunnel could branch out into a hundred other tunnels. Many of those could be dead ends. Face it, Uniqua. We have finally met our match. We’re doomed!”

  “Perhaps I can shed a little light on the matter,” Prince Bot spoke up. As usual, the Robot did not talk very much. I suppose he preferred to be in an input mode, rather than an output mode. That is to say, he observed and processed information, storing it away for later use. At the right time and place, he would use the analysis of all this information to do the right action when it was needed. And now, he glowed. All the diodes on his body emitted a soft glow of light, just enough to pierce the gloomy, inky darkness that surrounded them.

  The current had slowed to a crawl, but it still turned the raft this way and that, just more slowly. The cave turned out to be a large tunnel, very wide with a high ceiling. It also appeared to be man-made, meaning that someone long ago had cut the tunnel rather than a natural process. Although the Group could not see that far ahead, the tunnel was not straight. It curved gently from the north to the west. Eventually, its mouth would lead them close to the Great Wall.

  Also, they were unaware that a pair of eyes was watching them. A strange bat-like creature clung to the ceiling near the eastern wall—upside down.

  “I wonder how long it’s going to take to get to Dark City?” Carl said aloud.

  “Bunnies,” Uniqua addressed them. “Prepare a light meal, please. We haven’t eaten in a while. Hunger makes us cranky.” To Carl, she added, “Hours, hopefully.” To Prince Bot, she asked, “How long can you continue to glow?”

  “Three days, two hours, and thirteen minutes at this level of illumination,” the Robot answered.

  “Is that Machine time?” Carl wanted to know.

  “I have extrapolated Machine time to this time.”

  “You can do that?” Carl asked, amazed. Prince Bot did not answer. “You’re a regular time machine,” Carl quipped.

  While the Group ate, they more or less sat in silence. They had become used to the slow rotation of the raft, and they arranged themselves so that a pair of eyes was looking in every direction. Not knowing where Dark City lay and not knowing which direction the raft was pointed, each pair of eyes strained into the darkness to be the first to see it.

  At last, the Dark City cavern was in sight. Cassandra, with her keen Dragon sight, was the first to spy a faint glow in the distance. As the raft approached closer, the glow grew larger but not brighter. Whoever lived here in Dark City preferred low light, just enough to take the edge off the darkness. Speaking of people, none of the Group members could see anyone or anything standing around, walking, or engaged in any other kind of activity.

  “Do you think they’re all asleep?” Karen whispered.

  “Negative,” Prince Bot answered. “Look up.”

  When each member of the Group looked up, they all were both shocked and amazed. An entire city rested on the ceiling of this huge cavern that housed Dark City. In other words, Dark City was an upside down city! (Just like Father Dragon had stated, but it seemed that they had forgotten his words.)

  “Who could possibly live in that city?” Carl voiced his awe. He was also thinking about how they would be able to climb up to the city. Was there more strange magic here, whereby they would automatically be turned upside down too when they entered the cavern?

  “We do,” a voice from above them answered, a voice that belonged to the pair of eyes that had been watching them all this time. As the Group looked up and around them, a tall, slender creature detached itself from the tunnel ceiling. Turning right side up (for them, anyway), it floated down to the raft. Huge leathery wings on either side of its body flapped once, then folded tightly against its sides.

  The closet approximation in describing this strange creature is to say that it looked a lot like a giant bat. Its feet were claws, similar to a bird’s, only its talons were extraordinarily long, tapered, and very sharp. Its hands were little extensions at the ends of its voluminous wings. Its body was covered in a kind of down—not feathers but a kind of dark brown-colored hair. Generally, bats have a mouse-like face, but this creature, more or less, had more human-like features. Its eyes were not bulbous but large all the same, curving upward at the temples. The nose was long and thin, giving it a rather sinister appearance, and devoid of whiskers or any other facial hair.

  “Are you one of the Magicians of Dark City?” Uniqua asked.

  “Nay,” the Bat responded. “I am but one of the Queen’s servants. Pray, tell me. Why comest thou to our hidden abode?”

  The twins glanced at each other and almost smiled. The creature spoke English strangely, almost Elizabethan, like Shakespeare might have taught them the language.

  “We seek an audience with the Lord of Power,” Uniqua replied.

  “Methinks your tale is full of woe,” the Bat said, “yet best told once to hearers of many, among whom the one most important.”

  “If he keeps talking like that, I’m going to get a headache,” Cassandra muttered.

  “Thy speech is likewise strange,” the Bat immediately rejoined. “So thus your quest. What boon require thee of M’Lady?”

  What fortune it was to have Prince Bot as a member of the Group. Apparently, among all his studies, he had read a lot of Shakespeare, for he assumed the role of both leader and interpreter.

  “What doth appear most unseemly,” the Robot began, “is easily revealed by the tale, though it be long in the telling. These two children before thee need seek the return to their father’s hearth and bosom. Fraught with great difficulty have been our travails. Yet, we prevail to the end. In bargaining, we pledged our troth to the Dwarves who delivered us here, even if unseemly. Our boon to thy esteemed Lady is not for ourselves alone but to keep faith our vow so solemnly sworn.”

  “Right of trespass belongs to the purview of Our Lady,” the Bat said. “But what manners of courtesy so easily forgotten. This person before thee stands ready at your service, if thee be friend. My sword at thy breast and throat should thee be foul or foe.

  “I present myself: Second Count Monty Nard, First Captain of the Queen’s Tunnel Guard.” He then gave the Group a flourish bow, the kind you see in the movies of old, merry England and the royal courts. The hand waves a little in the air, then the arm sweeps out from the body, and the upper part of the body bends low at the waist.

  Carl noted that as the Bat’s hand moved, so did the entire wing. Although the creature spoke of a sword, Carl could see no weapon on the Bat. He wondered if the Bat’s speech was more ritualistic or whether the Bat could actually hurt or threaten them in another manner.

  (I need to interject some information here. I know some of you will be interested. If not, it is quite all right to skip to the next paragraph. The Dark City court had adopted much of the titles royal families use. King and Queen we can understand. Prince and Princess are the children. Lords and Counts and Barons were given to other relatives and important persons. Which one was higher or more important? I do not honestly kn
ow. Besides, a title usually just made the bearer feel more important than other people. In Monty Nard’s case, his father was the principal or primary Count. Being the eldest child, his title was appended with the word “Second” to indicate his lesser stature as heir to his father’s title someday.)

  “How many guards are there?” Carl piped up.

  “Two,” Monty Nard answered casually. “We knew of thy coming longst before thy arrival.”

  (I need to add another note. Today, we think that “thee, thou, and thy” are very polite words, used for strangers and important people. Actually, it was the opposite. The pronoun “you” used to be the polite word. “Thee, thou, and they” were friendly words, family words. So, actually, the Bat was being very friendly to the Group by addressing them this way.)

  “Magic, I suppose,” Uniqua wondered.

  “Our Queen will reveal all in due time. For now, the hours wane. Soon the last bell shall toll, announcing night’s end. And we then wait anon for enlightenment and fond meeting. Thus, swiftly I guide thee to thy next destination.”

  For a creature who claimed he was not a Magician, it seemed like magic when the raft stopped turning and started moving in one direction: Dark City.

  “My companions, we have arrived.”

  The raft mysteriously maneuvered up to a berth, a parking stall for boats. Ropes on the dock landings that formed the berth moved by themselves and tied up the raft. The good: the raft was now stable. The Group could disembark safely onto the dock. The bad: the raft was secure, and it was not going anywhere. The Group had no choice: they had to enter Dark City. The question was now: would they be able to leave?

  Dark City was affixed to the ceiling of this huge cavern, because Bats like to live on the ceilings of caves and hang upside down. Yet, you and I are not bats, and none of the Group were bats either. Hanging upside down might be fun for a short while. But if we hang upside down for too long, our faces will get all red. And, then we will feel like our heads will soon explode.

  So, the Bats of Dark City had small accommodations for non-Bat visitors, as they realized that guests would never feel comfortable if they had to hang upside down. I mean, how can one eat, drink, sleep, and do stuff like that upside down? Certainly they would be afraid of falling down all the time!

  A few yards from the dock stood a large water fountain. It was plain in style, while water gushed from its many spouts and shot up from the top, creating a three hundred-sixty-degree waterfall.

  Behind this water fountain, several low, squat buildings stood. These were for visitors to Dark City, so that they might feel more at home—and at ease—while their hosts lived on the ceiling above.

  The twins emphasized the plainness of the fountain and these buildings. The rest of the cavern was a different story. If one could light up the entire cavern with daylight, the panoramic beauty would surprise and amaze. Every inch of the cavern—its floors, walls, and ceilings—was covered—or rather sculpted—into fantastical works of art. The architecture and design of the ceiling city was exquisitely and ornately fashioned. The whole cavern would have been designated as the ninth wonder of the world, if the rest of the world knew about it.

  Two very tall and slender Bats waited beside the fountain for the Group to approach. They were, of course, the King and Queen of Dark City. About a hundred Bats stood quietly behind them. It was hard to know exactly how many Bats there were, because the cavern was always so dark, and the Bats themselves were very dark.

  “We thank our First Cousin in delivering these charges safely into our presence,” the Queen praised Monty Nard. Her voice was more alto for a female, and it bore no malice.

  “To but serve constitutes the highest honor,” the First Captain responded, bowing low to the Queen.

  Here the Queen took a step towards the Group. It was clear that she was not used to walking.

  “We have long awaited thy coming, so long foretold in the oracles,” she orated, as if she were reading lines from a play or reading a story to other children. “The uncertainty of that exact hour heightened anticipation. For sooth, it increases our joy with its culmination. Pray, make introductions that I may embrace thee bolder without infirmity.”

  With a little prompting help from Prince Bot, Uniqua then introduced each member of the Group. Afterwards, the Queen set her gaze on the twins.

  “These are the worlders who sojourn afar from hearth and kin, who labor in their travails, whose hearts beat heavily with both desire and trepidation. Come, children. Cling to no fear from this person. I am Elle Betta. Consider me both friend and mother.”

  “Thank you, Queen Elle Betta,” Karen returned. “We have come a long way.”

  “It has seemed forever,” Carl interjected.

  “Now that we are so close to our goal, we are anxious to finish,” Karen concluded.

  “How may we be of service?” the Queen asked. She was being polite, not friendly. In my experience, we should always be polite. But one should also look into the eyes of the other person. Sometimes, being polite is only a mask. The other person might have thoughts and ideas about that are not so polite.

  Uniqua was becoming a little uncomfortable. Some people call it a “sixth sense.” This is when you feel that something is not quite right about the current situation. The Queen was being too polite. But her eyes felt cold, like she was wondering if they were all good to eat. As the Unicorn looked at the other Bats, their faces were neither friendly nor menacing. In fact, they were impassive, showing no emotion. They did not even show the slightest hint of curiosity.

  The twins told their story in brief, which means they gave only the highlights of their adventures, not the details. (Prince Bot often helped translate their words into the peculiar form of language the Bats preferred.) When the children explained how they helped fix the portals, the Queen’s eyelids flickered once. Other than that expression of interest, her face remained passive.

  “So, when we arrived at the Dock, the Dwarves brought us here,” Karen finished up. “Only, we had to promise them to ask you to make wives for them.”

  “Is it beknownst to you whence these Dwarves absconded?” the Queen asked.

  “No, Your Majesty,” Uniqua answered. “They abandoned the raft when the sea monster attacked us.”

  “Thee ask a great boon of us,” the Queen stated. “Thy benefactors now absent, it seemeth prudent to no longer be necessary to keep faith with your vow.”

  “You children do not have to keep your promise to the Dwarves, if you do not want to,” Prince Bot translated.

  “A promise made is a promise kept,” Uniqua quoted an ancient proverb of the Island.

  “What thee asks is exceedingly rare. The difficulties to be encountered are beyond thy ken.”

  “You should understand how hard it will be to make ten wives,” Prince Bot said.

  “We need ponder forthwith before giving judgment.”

  “She will have to think about this request.”

  “I perceive thee desire a boon for thyselves. What request make thee of me?”

  “Safe passage to the Wall of Centaurs, Your Majesty,” Uniqua replied.

  “A small favor indeed. Yet, not so easily granted.” The Queen turned to her right and pointed with a winged hand towards the low buildings around the fountain. “Recline and refresh thyselves. We shall speak further anon.”

  She then stretched out her other winged hand, and with a slight jump from her feet, swept up into the cavern “sky.” All but Monty Nard followed suit. One moment, a dark cloud of Bats filled the cavern, their wings beating loudly and creating quite a breeze. The next moment, they were all gone.

  “Allow me,” Monty Nard said and escorted the Group to their new quarters.

  Perhaps there was quite a lot of magic here in Dark City. The twins, Tiny, and even the three Bunnies could easily adapt to beds, chairs, and tables within. But Uniqua and Cassandra were surprised to find quarters suitable for four-legged animals. Their quarters had stalls and trou
ghs in them. Beds of clean hay were made up for them to lie down in comfort. Even Prince Bot’s quarters were very machine-like, although he did not choose to try out any of its amenities.

  “I bid you a comfortable rest,” Monty Nard said his good-byes. “At the hour of nightfall, I will return to escort you to the Queen’s audience.”

  Bats have different hours: for them, daytime was for sleeping. Nighttime was for feasting and working. Although, since Dark City was so poorly lit, the Group wondered how they managed to tell the difference between night and day outside the cavern. There were no clocks or machines like Prince Bot to determine the hours.

  That evening (to the world outside), Monty returned as promised. The Group—especially the children—did not rest very well. Yes, they were very tired from yesterday’s adventures. But sleeping during the daytime is often hard to do. Plus, sometimes you can be too tired to sleep. The combination of the two kept the Group tossing and turning during this rest time.

  Once again, the Queen stood by the fountain, waiting for them. Instead of all of the Bats of the city turning out, only ten very tall Bats stood behind the Queen.

  “We have decided to accede to your request,” the Queen announced. “We require merely a small boon in compensation.”

  “The Queen wants a favor,” Prince Bot translated.

  Uniqua looked at the children. The twins nodded.

  “What would you like to ask?” the Unicorn answered the Queen.

  “Our magic remains flawed,’ the Queen explained in plain language. The old-fashioned English had disappeared, a tell-tale sign that her demeanor towards the visitors had also changed. “The Lord of Power thought it amusing to shatter the Crystal of Life. We have recovered all but one shard and mended the Crystal as best as we can. The one remaining shard, we know of its location, but we cannot touch it. It requires Dragon’s breath to free it of its prison.”