by Tonia Brown
“Where did you get off to?” the knight asked.
“He has been scrying,” Lelanea said.
“I have?” Boon asked. “Oh, yeah. I have. I guess.”
Sir Rodger considered the excuse a moment, then asked. “Do you mind if I ask what were you crying over?”
“I wasn’t crying,” Boon said. “I was doing that thing she said I was doing.”
The knight tutted Boon into silence. “There is no shame in tears, Mr. Boon. I have spent many an hour weeping over some unfortunate event.”
“He wasn’t crying, Sir Rodger,” Lelanea said. “He was scrying.”
“What is scrying?” Sarah asked as she left her stew pot and wandered over.
The knight and child looked to boon for an explanation.
“Yeah, Boon,” Dodger said, enjoying the man’s discomfort. “Tell us all about scrying.”
“Oh, um, yeah well … it’s like looking into the future?”
“So much like it,” Lelanea said, “that it is, in fact, exactly that.”
Sarah’s eyes lit with wonder. “Can you show me how to do it?”
“No,” Lelanea said. “He can’t. It is a very dangerous spell, and takes a lot of time to perform.”
“How much time passed while you worked your magic?” Dodger asked, hoping Boon would get the true gist of the question.
Boon stared at him for a moment before he raised his eyebrows in understanding. “Ah, yeah, it’s only been a little over an hour. I mean took. It only took a little over an hour.”
“Over an hour,” the knight said. “I hope it was time well spent.”
“I was worried it took much longer,” Dodger said.
“Were the results of your scrying favorable?” Lelanea asked.
Boon stared at her, then looked back to Dodger. He shrugged. “I guess so.”
“Then the Fates agree with our current course?” Lelanea asked.
The big blonde furrowed his brow and puffed his cheeks out, obviously unsure what she was asking.
Dodger cleared his throat. “Surely they did. It doesn’t take a doctor or a mystic to realize we should help the princess rescue her brother.” Dodger stressed the occupations of the two men, praying that even Boon wasn’t daft enough to miss a clue that big.
It took him a few seconds, but soon he nodded his understanding. “Why yes. Yes the fates agreed we are taking the proper course of action.
“Splendid,” the knight said. “This is pleasant news indeed. To know the Fates are on our side.”
“Yeah, they were all about the rescue. The Fates’ butler had his own opinion.”
Sir Rodger clapped Boon on the back and laughed. “You are such a jester!”
“I must confess,” Sarah said. “I thought you had abandoned us.”
“No, never,” Boon said. “I won’t leave you, Sarah. I’m here, till the end.”
“As am I,” Sir Rodger said.
“And I,” Lelanea said.
The group fell quiet as they turned, as one, to Dodger.
“What?” Dodger asked. “I’m here, aren’t I?” He walked away from them, stepping toward the steaming stew pot. “What’s for food?”
Rather than argue with him, the others chuckled at his dour attitude and joined him at the campfire. They joked and quipped about his grumpiness, blaming hunger and fatigue for his ill mood. In truth, Dodger had no idea why he couldn’t bring himself to pledge his services to the child. Perhaps it was that villain at heart, trying to work its way to the surface that kept him from promising her his guns. Or maybe he just didn’t want to make a promise he couldn’t keep. With her till the end? He reckoned it all depended on what ‘the end’ consists of in this context; the end of her dream or the end of her life. There was no way to tell, and no way was Dodger willing to place a bet.
Food turned out to be rabbit stew, a favorite of Dodger’s. Sarah made enough for everyone to have their fill, with Dodger just about licking the pot clean. Dream food, he decided, was just about better than Feng’s cooking. And that was saying a mighty lot. Once sated, the group got back on the road, traveling ever forward toward the towering peak in the distance. But that distance, it seemed, was more subjective than Dodger expected. He swore the thing was fifty miles off just an hour ago, but before he knew it, they were almost atop the accursed thing.
“Nearly there,” Sir Rodger said. “We should make Liar’s Bridge at the foot of the mountain before sunset.”
“That’s strange,” Boon said. “I feel like it was much farther away this morning.”
“Things are always more daunting on an empty stomach.”
“I reckon so.”
“At this rate we will reach the top of the mountain in another day,” Lelanea said.
“Perhaps,” Sir Rodger said. “Let us not be too optimistic.”
“Tell us more about Poison Peak,” Dodger said.
“Certainly,” the knight said. “What is it you would like to know?”
“What is it like? Will we be able to infiltrate it easily?”
“What kind of tricks can we expect from the Evil One?” Boon said.
“Where is the Prince held, specifically?” Lelanea asked.
“Whoa,” Sir Rodger said. “I possess but one tongue, friends. I can only answer one question at a time.”
“Of course,” Lelanea said. “In your own time, Sir Rodger.”
Sir Rodger cleared his throat, as if readying himself for an epic tale.
With a sigh, Dodger settled in for another dramatic moment from the knight. Dodger hated melodrama. For him, such performances were like walking through a blizzard in the nude; impractical, pointless, and more often than not left you with one hell of a cold shoulder when you were done.
Surprisingly enough, the knight kept his descriptions short, recounting Poison Peak as a fort like structure on a lonely outcropping of rock atop Mount Doom. The fort consisted of a twenty foot stone wall protecting a large hall in which the Prince was most likely held. Sir Rodger described the Evil One as an unholy abomination, half man, half hound of hell. Eight solid feet of muscle, fur and teeth, with flames for eyes, sulfuric breath and the strength as well as roar of a dragon. Dodger wasn’t surprised that Rex was such a vicious and powerful creature in the child’s dream. The thing may have been a little doggy in real life, but the havoc he wreaked was of nightmarish proportions.
“Who else will be there?” Dodger asked. “I know you say this Evil One is, well, evil, but I doubt he is alone.”
“You are correct, sir,” Sir Rodger said. “He will not be alone. I suspect there shall be all manner of vile villain. Outlaws and criminals from every corner of the land gather at Mount Doom. Poison Peak is a lodestone for the most wretched and foulest of foes. Which is how it gained its moniker, for it is a very poisonous place.”
“What is our plan of attack? Sneaking up on the wall and scaling it under the cover of darkness? That sort of thing?”
Sir Rodger wrinkled his nose, as if he had never smelled a fouler plan. “No sir. There is no honor in such a plan. I intend to walk right up to the fort, knock on the door and state my demands. If the Evil One knows what is good for him, he will return the Prince to my care.”
“You’re kidding.” Dodger hooked a thumb in Sir Rodger’s direction as he said, “Lelanea, please tell me this man is joking.”
“Sir Rodger,” Lelanea said. “As honorable as that sounds, I doubt the Evil One will deal so lightly with the likes of us.”
“I realize that, m’lady,” Sir Rodger said.
“Then what do you plan to do when he refuses your demands?” Dodger asked.
Sir Rodger smiled at Dodger. “We shall cross that bridge when we arrive at it.”
“Speaking of bridges,” Boon said and motioned to the trail ahead, which was no longer so much a trail as a curled fist of iron and wood.
“I take it that’s Liar’s Bridge?” Dodger asked.
“It was,” Sir Rodger said.
A
huge ravine crossed the travelers’ path, stretching in both directions as far as the eye could see. It was a good hundred feet or more in width, making it impossible to leap. The chasm reached so deep into the earth that Dodger couldn’t see anything below save for black emptiness, removing the opportunity to quickly climb down and back up again. On both sides there sat the remnants of what used to be a bridge. It was as though someone tore the bridge apart in the middle and pushed it away, in opposite directions, leaving the metal and wood curled back over itself. The end result looked very much like the claw of some great beast reaching out of the gulch, seeking some tender morsel to drag down to the pits of hell.
****
back to toc
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Chapter Eleven
Ropeslide
In which Dodger sends everyone on a dangerous journey
“Well,” Boon said. “What do we do now?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Sir Rodger said. “We get across.” He removed a length of rope from Henrietta’s saddle.
“No,” Dodger said. “We should split up and search in either direction. Surely there is another way across. Or perhaps it narrows at some point.”
“I’m afraid not. You see, this is Round-a-Bout Gulch. And it-”
“Lemme guess, it goes around the whole mountain.”
Sir Rodger nodded. “And Liar’s Bridge is, well, was the only way across.”
“Of course,” Dodger grumbled. He watched as the knight began to unwind the coil of rope. “So, gallant knight, how do you plan on magicking us across?”
“I have no magic, dear friend. Unless Mr. Boon knows a spell for such things, I am afraid we will get across the old fashioned way.”
“Don’t look at me,” Boon said.
“I wasn’t,” Dodger said.
Dodger watched as Sir Rodger twisted the one end of the rope into a fairly reliable looking lariat. The knight stepped up to the gulch and gazed out across the chasm, zeroing in on the twisted metal across the way. He raised the rope over his head and began to twirl it, swinging it in wide arcs until the noose flattened into a neat circle.
“Is he gonna do what I think he’s gonna do?” Boon asked.
“I believe he is,” Lelanea said.
“He’ll never make it,” Dodger said.
“Of course he will,” Sarah said. “He’s the best.”
Dodger looked down at the child. “Best at what?”
Sarah smiled up at him as she said, “Everything.”
With an excited whoop, Sir Rodger released his hold on the rope, flinging the lariat toward what was left of the bridge across the gap. In a clean and beautiful arc, the noose sailed away from Sir Rodger’s hand, over the empty chasm, and lassoed a warped metal beam at least one hundred feet away. Sir Rodger bent double to catch the tail of the excess rope before it could slither off after its head. He gave it a few hard yanks, until he was satisfied that the thing would hold.
Sarah clapped enthusiastically, and was soon joined by Boon. Lelanea wagged her tail a few times. Dodger was also duly impressed. It may have been an impracticable stunt made possible by the strange physics of Sarah’s dream world, but he was impressed all the same. He was even more impressed when he realized just what Sir Rodger planned on constructing.
Using the other half of the rope, Sir Rodger lassoed a higher section of the bridge closest to him. He pulled on the works, tightening the slipknot until the rope went taut across the abyss. The knight tied the excess to a lower portion of the ruined bridge, as a means of double securing the line. After he was finished, he stood upright and turned to the others with a broad smile.
“Who is first?” he asked.
“Me!” Sarah shouted.
Sir Rodger laughed, amused by her eagerness.
“Excuse me,” Boon said. “What exactly is that?”
“It’s a ropeslide,” Dodger said. “We’re gonna ride it across the gap.”
“Correct, sir,” Sir Rodger said. “Have you employed one?”
“I have, but it’s been many years and many pounds ago.”
Sir Rodger patted his belly. “Aye, I understand, for I am in the same situation. I learned to prepare one when I was just a wee lad. Baron Aloysius placed a very strict curfew upon us squires. Occasionally, a few of us used to slip out of the tower at night by means of a ropeslide such as this. Granted it has been a number of years since I have enjoyed the flight of the slide, but I suppose not much has changed about it.”
“It’s not been quite that long, but it has been some time since I’ve even seen one.”
“Then we will have to remember how it works together.”
“I’ve never seen such a thing,” Boon said.
“I have,” Lelanea said. “Years ago, in Shrewsbury. My family went to see a lad who was famous for riding the rope down from St. Mary’s Church all the way across the river. I think his name was Richard, or Robert or some such.”
Boon put his hands on his hips and stared up at the tight rope. “How do we ride it?”
“You take a bit of rope,” Sir Rodger said, “like this. See?” Sir Rodger cut a length of excess away from the extra rope and looped it over the line, holding both ends as he explained his actions to Boon. “One tosses it across the line, grabs both ends, and sort of slides down the incline.”
“Slide how?”
“You shove off from the higher end,” Dodger said, “and gravity pulls you across.”
“Ah, I see,” Boon said. “Can I ask one more thing?”
“Be my guest,” Sir Rodger said.
“How can you grab onto both sides if you ain’t got hands?”
“No hands?” Sir Rodger chuckled at the notion. “Good Lord. No hands? What kind of unfortunate creature has … no … hands …” His words and laughter trailed off as he slowly turned to look down at Lelanea. He bowed to her, deeply, his forehead almost touching the rocky soil in his shame. “I apologize for my poorly placed humor, dear Lady. I had nearly forgotten about your affliction.”
“Don’t be,” Lelanea said. “I’ve got teeth, don’t I?”
“Lelanea,” Boon said. “I can’t let you try that. It’s too dangerous. You can ride with me. I’ll rig up a backpack to fit ya.”
“Certainly not.” Her ears flattened against her skull in a sign of annoyance. “I have no intention of sliding across that thing strapped to your back like some helpless maiden. I am perfectly capable of clutching a bit in my teeth.”
Boon lowered himself to her height. “I don’t doubt that, but, I just want you to be safe.”
“I will be safe, my love.” Her ears righted themselves as her stern look softened. “You must admit, my jaw is a whole lot stronger than even your back.”
“You’re probably right. And even if you ain’t, I can see there’s no talking you out of it.”
“Not this time.”
“That settles it,” Dodger said. “We each need to pack as much as we can in our bags before we go. Then I’ll go first, followed by Sarah, then Boon, then Lelanea, and you can bring up the rear, Sir Rodger.”
“I should think not,” Sir Rodger said. “I wouldn’t dream of sending another soul across this line without testing it first myself.”
Dodger huffed as he rubbed his temples. “Fine. Go first. I don’t care, let’s just get this over with.” He stared at the opposite side, to the boulders and bushes and path that disappeared into the mist of the mountain beyond. “Just be careful over there. There is no telling who or what could be hiding out on the other side.”
“I shall be on highest alert.” Sir Rodger grabbed as much as his back would carry before he mounted the platform again. He prepped his hand hold, tossing it over the line then twisting the short length between his fists. The knight glanced over his shoulder, nodding at both Dodger and Sarah. “See you on the other side.” With that, he kicked away from the bridge, slipped between a wide gap in the ruined beams, and slid down the length of the rope toward the other side.
Dodger held his breath, and he was fairly sure everyone else was doing the same. Time slowed to a crawl, as it often did during such dangerous moments, leaving Sir Rodger to travel over the canyon in an achingly sluggish motion. At one point he seemed to hang perfectly still, in midair, with no way to tell if he would fall or fly. Then it was over. Sir Rodger came to an abrupt halt on the opposite end of the rope with a loud huff that echoed over the gap.
Sarah squealed and clapped with glee. “My turn! My turn!”
“All right, girly,” Dodger said. “Don’t get all bent out of shape. Make sure you stuff your pack.”
The child did as asked, pushing as much of the equipment as she could into her backpack. “I think that’s all I can carry.”
“Make sure that bag will close. I don’t want half of the equipment dumped down that canyon.” While Sarah checked her bag, Dodger cut away a suitable length of rope and then waved her over to him. “Hold out your hand.”
“Which one?” she asked.
“Doesn’t matter.”
Sarah thrust out her right hand, and Dodger grabbed it. He wound a bit of the rope across her wrist, then wrapped it back over the child’s palm, tying it tight enough to elicit a hiss from the girl.
“What are you doing?” Sarah asked.
“I’m making sure you can’t let go,” Dodger said.
“I won’t let go.”
“I didn’t say you would. I just said this will make sure you don’t.”
He winked at her.
Sarah smirked.
“Hop on up there,” Dodger said.
Sarah clambered up to the platform, strapped the pack over her shoulders and then raised her hands up to the line without needing to be told.
“Good girl,” Dodger said. He looped the rope over the line and tied her other wrist into the works. Once satisfied the girl was strapped in, Dodger waved across the gap to Sir Rodger.
The knight waved in return, signaling his readiness.
“You ready?” Dodger asked.
“No,” Sarah said. A touch of fear rose to her eyes as her lips quivered. All of her excitement was gone, replaced by genuine terror. “I don’t think I can-”
