The Questory of Root Karbunkulus - Quill

by Kamilla Reid

  “My sister is dead!”

  Just like that. Boom.

  Lian’s bomb froze Dwyn in his tracks.

  My sister is dead. My sister is dead. Every wall captured his words and lobbed them back. Dead…dead…dead…ricocheted for escape until only a whisper remained wandering a tunnel alone.

  “Lian.” Root said once silence had returned. “I’m so sorry. We…didn’t know.”

  Lian sat down. After a time Dwyn sat beside him. “Was it Kakos?”

  “No.” Lian stared forward. He swallowed and tried not to look at Root. “Tints.”

  The word hung in the air, too heavy to reverberate. Root could see it, black and ugly, the same black and ugly that stamped itself across foreheads. And hearts. Neither she nor Dwyn could wrap their heads around it. Tints had killed their best friend’s sister.

  Lian took a deep breath. It was time to come clean. “They had attacked Vulcherk’s and Co. It was revenge after he refused to serve them when they’d come for supplies. My sister, Jadia was just walking past, along the boardwalk. She was coming to pick me up from the Scholarly…but she never made it. She had walked right into their fire line.” There was a long pause as Lian reluctantly wandered into the memory. “I went looking and found her…still alive. The Tints had used Galt seeds for bullets and all she needed was Bloodfungus to stop the poison. But I hadn’t discovered that yet. I…I didn’t know. And so the Bloodfungus sat on the shelf in Vulcherk’s, merely ten paces away and…she died.”

  Root wanted to cry but knew better. Lian would hate that.

  Around them, the heavy, rhythmic breathing of their furry mates amplified the silence. Thankfully, Dwyn gifted a distraction. “What’s with this camera, then?” He held it out.

  Lian blinked back to the present and took the Brotswin from Dwyn. He turned it over in his hand. “I’m not sure. But it seems to capture images of a person’s past instead of the present.”

  “When the Sage Mother gave it to me, she said it was for memories. I assumed she meant to y’know make new memories. Do you think she meant past?” Root leaned into her thought. “Wait, she’d given it to me right after I learned about my…Let me see that!” She snatched the Brotswin and peered into the screen. There it was. Hazy yes but now unmistakable. Long black hair with a streak of silver. “It’s my mum!”

  ‘Your mum? Are you sure?”

  “Yes! I’m positive!” She handed the Brotswin back to Lian.

  “So, it must capture our old memories!” Lian looked again and pressed the engager button. The blurred black hair of Root’s mum shifted, returning to the faces of his sister and parents. Happier times. His father’s arm was actually around his mother. And Jadia’s hair was shoulder length. She’d be about fourteen, making Lian five. This was just before the…incident. Lian depressed his finger. Another image. Jadia on dad’s back. Mum smiling in the background. Lian couldn’t pull his eyes away. The Brotswin had captured the full essence of the memory. The music in the background, the smell of baking Dewberry Cobbler, the laughter, the love, the family. It was as if the image was alive and all he had to do was find the secret entrance in. Lian felt his throat tighten. In his veins was a pulse of foreboding but he couldn’t put the Brotswin down. Another image. Dinner. Jadia making a face, the same one he’d made for Root. Dad’s famous roast potatoes…

  Root ached for her Brotswin back. She too had noticed the feelings it had conjured. Feelings she’d hung in a closet for so long they’d been forgotten. Her mother was in there somewhere, on a hanger. The Brotswin may have blurred her face, but her spirit wafted out to Root as tactile as mist. And now it was soaking into her skin. She wanted to spend all the rest of her hours locked inside the Brotswin, basking. But Lian was so vulnerable. She gave him more time.

  The boulder flickered. The flare of its light was growing smaller. The cave was getting dim.

  “We better get going” Dwyn said at last. “We’ll only have a few hours of light left.”

  When Lian didn’t budge, Dwyn took it upon himself to pack up. Root helped, though with a constant longing as if the moment Lian was done, she would scoop the Brotswin up like a long lost…well, mother.

  It was only when Lian was needed to undo the Door Restore that he pulled himself away. Regretfully, for Root then had the Brotswin stowed away in a pocket…awaiting her eyes only.

  The rat arrived with six of his rat friends and one mole. He was explaining the disappearance of his door, as he had been explaining since he first roused them from sleep, and hadn’t noticed that they were now standing at the very cave opening he’d said had vanished. They stared at him like he’d gone mad. They shook their heads. They tsked. And then they sniffed. Could it be? Another seven sniffs straight into the back of the cave. Yes! Yes! It was! Ratty, old boy, you’ve been holding out on us!

  Let the feasting begin!

  23

  AN INTRUDER

  Root caught Dwyn staring at her as she hunched over the Brotswin. She tried to ignore him but his eyes were keen and penetrating. Finally she looked up. “Would…you…would you like to use it?” she said while cradling it with anything but generosity.

  “Nope.” he said.

  “ You wouldn’t?”

  “Nope”

  “But you could see your mother or your father. Your family.”

  “So.”

  “So, don’t you want to even look?”

  “I have my family.”

  “Not your real family.”

  “Staring at old blurry pictures is not a real family either, Root.”

  She cringed. Then held tighter. What did he know? She peered back into the screen. True the pictures had not improved but little bits here and there spawned relief. And more questions. Like, why had Lian’s images been so clear? Probably because he’d grown up with his family whereas Root had had, from what she could gather a measly few months with hers. Maybe this was why the images were blurry. Maybe she hadn’t developed her sight fully yet. Or maybe it was because it was just so long ago and the image had faded along with her memory. She looked again. There was someone else in the picture. The hair seemed short and brownish…or was that…pumpkin? A flood of warmth filled her. Was this her father?

  There had been men in the Sage Mother’s painting, fleeing and wailing just as her mother had. Surely one was her father. Root’s stomach squeezed. She wished she had looked for him in the painting. But what good would that have been?

  She had to just let it go. Her parents were dead. She’d always known this.

  Fine. Yes. They were dead. But…but who had they been? And how had they lived?

  “There’s a spot over there” Lian said, breaking her thoughts “where we can camp.”

  The Valadors landed, CPR all too happy to dismount. Lian was cleaned and ready for the night faster than they’d ever seen and was at Root’s side.

  “May I look at it again?” he asked. Root looked around. Surely there was something else he could do. But there wasn’t. And she still had to unpack and settle the Hovers. She grasped for excuses but there were none to be had. With a heavy hand she passed the Brotswin to Lian and watched jealously as he sat by the fire, his face practically melted into the screen.

  Supper was a sorry attempt. Berries can only do so much before the stomach says ‘joke’s over’ and demands a serious meal. Dwyn thought about Molding but wasn’t sure what to Mold in to. The forest had gradually changed and become unfamiliar, its inhabitants with it. For all he knew a bear would be easy prey now. The giant footprint he’d found nearby pretty much affirmed this.

  Lian was no help, his nose stuck in that stupid camera. When Dwyn asked him for suggestions Lian just grunted and pointed to a compartment in the travel pack. The library pocket.

  Dwyn and Root flipped through pages of a book called “Know Your Bellatonian Forest Beasts”, having decided from the cover photo that this forest applied to the Bellatonian description. No thanks to Lian.

  There were a few Molding options, a S
kywag for instance. It seemed to be pretty adept in the survival department, quick and agile, having few enemies due to its ability to petrify. But when they realized it lived on a diet primarily of berries, well ‘nuff said. They turned the page. A Blue-Footed Brixy might work. Oh, but this was its mating season. A shiver went through Dwyn as he imagined being wooed by…no, he wouldn’t go there.

  They flipped some more before Dwyn stopped at a page that showed the same giant footprint that he’d seen only a few paces away. Root read aloud. “The Jankal is perhaps the largest of the Bellatonian species, standing the height of the very trees that camouflage it.”

  They gulped. At that very moment, the air seemed to suck out of the forest.

  Trees that camouflaged it?

  Root and Dwyn began to scan the huge trunks that surrounded them. Root swore that if she saw a giant eye peering from one she would die on the spot.

  “Lian.” Dwyn said, rising very slowly.

  Lian didn’t even hear him.

  “Lian.” Root added. “I think it’s time to go.”

  Not even a grunt from their friend. He was no better than a stump to them.

  “Lian!” Root screamed. She couldn’t help herself. It was her Brotswin!

  “Hmmm?” Lian looked up, his eyes miles and miles away from common sense.

  “We gotta go.” Dwyn said.

  “Why?”

  “We think there may be a…” he referred to the book. “…a Jankal nearby.”

  “Well, if there is, you won’t see it. They’re scared of just about everything. Probably shaking in the trees watching us.”

  Dwyn grabbed the book and read. Sure enough, Jankals, despite their size are amongst the most harmless of DréAmm’s beasts. If they perceive danger they will…

  The trees beside Root suddenly erupted. She screamed. Something shot out from the forest, taking to the sky like a rocket. They all looked up. What in the world….?

  The Jankal had obviously perceived danger. Its legs had acted as springs. The rest of it was like a tree trunk, all brown and green, exactly like the Bellatonian cedars that surrounded them. Maybe even taller. It continued upward until cresting just below the clouds and arching back toward the ground. They watched it prepare its legs for landing. Then it was gone. Landed in another part of the Bellatonian forest, sighing in relief.

  “Know Your Bellatonian Forest Beasts” was returned to the library pocket. Dwyn had decided he’d rather starve.

  The fire was nearly spent. Lian hadn’t moved. Root was scowling. “I’d like my Brotswin back now, Lian.”

  “Hmmm? Just one more minute?” Lian begged.

  “You said that last time!”

  “Just one more. I promise. Only one.”

  Root grit her teeth. After the second minute, when he was pressing for a third, she yanked the Brotswin from him.

  And the fight began.

  It was Dwyn who finally broke it up.

  “Cut it out! Both of you! Geez, you guys. You’re acting like strung out mental cases! They’re pictures for crying out loud! I can understand the draw…sort of …but look at you. You’re turning into obsessive freaks! Sorry to say but you can’t bring these happy memories back so just…move on…In case you’ve forgotten we’ve been off course for a long time. For all we know three Quills have been found already! I think it’s time to get back on track!”

  He was right. They let him put the Brotswin in a secret hiding place. They had no choice really; he’d snatched it before they could react and even together they were no match for Dwyn.

  He hid it and that was that. After awhile, a rather long while, they actually felt the soothing of relief. Enough to sleep easy and heavy under the starry Bellatonian sky.

  Though the heat did not ease up over the next few days, a brook had decided to journey with them, keeping them quenched and refreshed. It was only on their final days in the forest when it finally tapered and dried up.

  Along with their last remnants of food.

  Lian cheered them somewhat with a guesstimate of arrival…one more day. But this was chased with the dismal reminder that they could end up in a worse heat. The Twal Deserts were a “blistering trap for death” according to The Top Ten Geographical Dangers of DréAmm, of which Dwyn had taken to reading. It didn’t help that the Swamps of Koik were a trifling number nine compared to the deserts’ number five danger status. The number one danger was a place called Hordrid, which few could describe. Being that they never made it back to do so.

  If Lian was right and this was their last night in the forest, it would not be taken advantage of. Once the sun dipped the air fell cool, rousing their skin back to life and lending enough energy to find a resting site. Too weak to set up beds or bear the weight of their hunger they collapsed into the forest’s springy moss and were sleeping before a fire was even considered. All the favors of the forest that had seen them this far they took into their dreams. Even the days and days of berries were given grateful acknowledgment, knowing they may not experience such luxury the next night.

  They, in fact slept so well, they took no notice of the sneaking steps of the intruder. He managed to slip right past the sacked-out Hovermutts, toward what little supplies the Valadors had left. His hand rummaged along the shadowy belongings and came to rest upon a leather pocket. It fumbled with the straps and then with a careful heave pulled out its findings.

  CPR heard a noise. She pricked her ears and opened her eyes. She saw the dark figure standing and instantly got to her feet.

  Root and Lian woke with hearts pounding.

  CPR’s growls had grown into roaring snarls and snaps. She was fumbling and crashing into everything around her. Something was trying to escape from her. Or rather someone. Root ran to her and pulled her away.

  And that’s when she saw him.

  With the Brotswin in his hand.

  “Dwyn!” Root cried in disbelief.

  Fortunately, sleep had given the team enough of itself to think clearly and this meant acknowledging the unhealthy nature of the Brotswin. There was no point in blaming Dwyn. He’d given in to its temptation just as they had.

  Although Root felt the Sage Mother’s intentions had been kind, that she had only wanted Root to find joy in the memories, perhaps the past was best left forgotten. At least for these three. Or maybe the timing simply wasn’t right and there would be a day when they could look at these images without the pull of longing to keep them there, content to let the rest of their lives slip away. At any rate, Root and Dwyn let Lian wrap the Brotswin in a sealed container that he then charmed only to open under the intention to sell it, which is what they had decided to do, once they were in Divit.

  “What did you see?” Lian asked once the Brotswin was tucked away in a compartment of the travel pack and they were snuggled in a warm pile of Hovermutts around a newly bolstered fire.

  “ Nothing.” Dwyn said.

  “Nothing?”

  “Just a…a kitten.”

  “A kitten?”

  “Yeah.” The forced indifference of Dwyn’s voice made it obvious. He could pretend all he wanted but he too had felt it. The pull of something bigger than him. He had grown up lucky, in the kindness of an exceptional orphanage but nothing prepared him for the fierce warmth that struck his heart first glance. A kitten of all things. What was the significance, he thought. How could he possibly feel such love? How could he have survived so long without it? And then he felt the pain of not having it anymore. A pain he’d long buried. “I wish I hadn’t looked,” he said under his breath.

  24

  BAD IDEA

  On the third day past the day that was…ahem…. supposed to be the day they would arrive, even the berries had run out.

  Walking had shifted into staggering.

  The acid of their stomachs was revolting, sending waves of nausea throatward. Concentration was a joke. For all their numb brains knew they were lost and ‘getting loster’.

  Please, please, please became the catch
phrase. Please water, please food. Please, please, please let us not arrive at the Twal Desert… let it be the great sea, our passage to Divit. And survival. Pretty please…let us live…

  A very large, very beaky bird was enjoying the mid afternoon sun sitting on a rock in a vast meadow at the edge of the forest. It had been a quiet day. The heat had made it so. Most anything of life was sleeping heavily under anything of shade. Not so for the bird who thrived in the bright solitude.

  That is until three dirty bi-peds and their dirtier Hovermutts sluggishly made their way into its vision. It was hoping to be ignored but suddenly one of them pointed at it and spluttered “Sea Wing!” And then they all started a sloppy run toward it.

  It was extremely rude and the Sea Wing would have nothing to do with such ill manners. It opened a pair of wide wings and took to the sky, expecting to circle around until they left.

  But still the fools chased, hollering and whooping like its boorish cousin the crane.

  Enough of this, it thought and with a great flap turned for home. Surely they wouldn’t be able to follow it over the cliffs.

  The large, beaky bird dove. And disappeared.

  If it had turned back to look, it would have seen its chasers arrive at the cliff’s edge cheering madly as if it were a celebrity. But it didn’t look. It simply swooped and looped the heavens, joining its mob of cousins, hundreds of them, in an orchestral cawing of salt and wind.

  The Valadors fell to their knees. Thank you…thank you…thank you…

  It had been such a long, long, thirsty, hot, journey. And now stretching out before them, too immense for comprehension, was not the Twal deserts as had been feared, but the glittering sea! The glittering, sparkling, wet, wet sea in all its turquoise infinity. A cloud of Sea Wings hung above it, their song claiming the sky.