An Unwelcome Quest (Magic 2.0 Book 3)

by Scott Meyer

  Gwen said, “I can understand that.”

  “But that’s not what’s happening right now, is it? Right now, I’m wearing a warm coat she warned me to bring, carrying a backpack she sent, drinking from water bottles she provided. That’s her being helpful. That’s her doing something right.”

  Gwen nodded. “And you want to believe you would do that in her place.”

  “No,” Brit said. “If she’s just me in the future, that means I’m the one who helped us, and I like that. She steals my credit all the time. This is a way I can take some of hers.”

  24.

  “What do you guys picture when you hear the word ‘desert’?” Phillip asked.

  “Sand dunes,” Tyler said. “A sea of stark, clean, undulating sand dunes receding endlessly into the horizon under a clear blue sky.”

  They walked for a moment; then Phillip asked, “You’re thinking about the movie Dune now, aren’t you, Tyler?”

  “Yes. Yes I am.”

  Jimmy said, “I picture salt flats, like Bonneville. Just a flat, lifeless plain. No landmarks. No features. Nothing but salt and sand and heat.”

  Gary said, “I picture an island with some ferns and a single palm tree. And before you say anything, yes, I know that’s not right. That’s pretty much the opposite of a desert, but when I was a kid, they always called that a ‘desert island’ and it just stuck with me, okay?”

  Jimmy said, “That’s fine, Gary. Everybody has that kind of stuff. When you think of a punk rocker, you probably picture a leather jacket and a Mohawk, but two of the biggest punk bands were the Talking Heads and Blondie.”

  “My point is,” Phillip said, “when you hear the word ‘desert,’ nobody pictures this.”

  “No,” Tyler agreed. “It might qualify as a desert, but they should probably call it a wasteland.”

  The path down the foothills and out of the woods had been wide and mostly downhill before terminating in the desert they’d been told was called the Scapa, and as Phillip had said, the Scapa was not what they were expecting.

  They expected to find sand, but they found dirt. Gritty, dark red dirt. They expected a near-total lack of life, maybe punctuated with the occasional cactus, but they found plentiful tumbleweeds and occasional glimpses of tiny, fast-moving rodents. They expected to find no water, but it clearly had rained at some point in the recent past. They would occasionally pass a patch of damp ground, or a puddle of liquid that, if you were being a stickler, you would have to admit was water, but only someone who wanted to die or was desperate to live would dare drink it.

  In short, where most deserts were hostile to life, the Scapa was merely passive-aggressive. Where the Sahara seemed to scream at people to stay away, the Scapa told them, “You want to live here? Go ahead! Fine by me. I’ve given you everything you need—plants, animals, water. Flourish, why don’t you?”

  Rather than being perfectly flat, or covered with treacherous but beautiful dunes, the landscape was made up of rolling hills that were just steep enough to be irritating to walk up and treacherous to walk down and just flat enough to be boring. The wizards had to put in effort and watch their step, but only because they were hand-carrying an object that had been designed solely for the purpose of cutting their hands.

  One advantage of the gently rolling landscape and the scratchy, skeletal nature of the sagebrush was that they could see the sand wolves coming a mile away. Or at least they would have if the sand wolf simulation subroutine had been more realistic. As it was, they could see the sand wolves render out of thin air from yards away. When a sand wolf appeared, whoever was carrying the twisted portion of the Möbius Blade would let go and dispatch the wolf. Much like they had with the sledge, they took turns fending off wolves, and settled into a nice routine, which experience had taught them is exactly when things go wrong.

  Phillip was on wolf duty, pinching the twisted portion of the Möbius Blade off to his side with his hand while walking forward. The others concentrated on their footing and on not getting their hands cut off. As Phillip watched the landscape ahead for attackers and obstacles, he saw something that he did not yet know would eventually qualify as both.

  They had not been in the Scapa all that long, but their slowed pace and the monotony of the landscape made it feel much longer. As they crested a low hill, just like the hundreds before, Phillip saw in the distance, directly in their path, a mound of some sort that stood out from the others. In a landscape of gentle hills and equally gentle valleys, like a vast, two-dimensional sine wave, this one small bump seemed to erupt from the ground. It was one hill made of dirt in a sea of hills made of dirt, and yet it looked out of place.

  Phillip told the others to stop for a moment. The others asked why. He explained, “There’s a hill.”

  Phillip didn’t blame them for not being impressed with his answer. He explained further, “It’s weird.” Again Phillip couldn’t blame them for not being impressed.

  The others did stop, and he pointed out the offending pile of soil, and they finally agreed that it looked wrong. They all kept an eye on it as they walked. Thus, in a barren landscape with only one thing that made them nervous, the wizards walked directly toward that one thing.

  They were about fifty feet from the offending lump and Phillip was contemplating which side they should pass it on when the pile of dirt made the question moot by standing up.

  At first Phillip was the only one who saw the hill moving, as the others were preoccupied with carrying the Möbius Blade. When the hill moved, Phillip got startled and yelled and jumped a bit, which startled the others, making them jump quite a bit and yell at Phillip. Then they saw what had startled him, and they all yelled at that.

  The mound had stirred, then lifted off the ground, supported by two short, thick columns of soil. Its central mass was a thick, bulbous lump of dirt and gravel that sprouted two gnarled arms and a flattened lump that approximated a head. Scrub grass, sagebrush, and formerly buried roots sprouted from the thing’s surface like body hair. It stood eight feet tall, much taller than any of the wizards, yet managed to seem short and stubby.

  The creature’s eyes were defined by their absence. Two dark pits marked the place on the head where eyes would normally be. As it looked down at the wizards, they were given the contradictory impressions that they were being watched and that nobody was home.

  As the creature started to move, wispy clouds of dust rose from its joints, trailing behind it like a vapor trail as it lumbered toward the wizards.

  The beast started slow but was clearly picking up speed, and there were only about fifty feet between it and the wizards, who set a world speed record for carefully putting something down. The instant the Möbius Blade was resting on the ground, they scattered.

  The creature pursued the nearest wizard, which in this case was Phillip, who did the natural thing and kept running.

  When the others realized this, they stopped running and watched.

  “Seriously? A dirt monster?” Gary said, catching his breath.

  Tyler replied, “I’m guessing that’s the elemental we were warned about. Earth is an element.”

  Phillip’s luxurious full-fur vest bounced with each step and flapped behind him as he fled from the elemental. The creature was hunched over, swinging its arms from side to side as it ran, leading with its flattened head and dead eyes. It had attained its top speed, which was surprisingly slow but still slightly faster than Phillip’s top speed.

  “Run!” Jimmy shouted. “It’s gaining on you!”

  Phillip ventured a panicky glance over his shoulder at the thing chasing him.

  “Don’t look at it!” Jimmy shouted. “Run!”

  Phillip would have glared at Jimmy, but instead he tripped on some sagebrush and slid to a halt on his face. He scrambled back up to his feet just in time to have the elemental head-butt him with tremendous force between the should
er blades, sending him flying and causing him to once again slide to a stop on his face.

  The elemental was moving slowly, having imparted all of its momentum to Phillip. It restarted its pursuit before Phillip had even touched the ground, but the beast was not a sprinter, and Phillip had enough time to roll to his right, operating mostly on instinct. After pushing off the ground, he brought up his arms to protect his head. His right upper arm collided with the elemental’s wrist as the creature, unable to turn its bulk at speed, trundled past. Phillip felt the impact and was sure it had done serious damage, but felt no pain. The elemental, being made of dirt, was not so fortunate. Its fist broke cleanly from its arm. When it hit the ground, the severed fist exploded into a cloud of dust and a pile of loose gravel and dirt.

  The elemental jogged to a halt and looked at the crumbling stump where its hand had been. It waddled to the spot where its hand had disintegrated. The cloud of dust created when the severed hand hit the ground had not dissipated as one would expect, but had remained in place, and now seemed to actually become thicker and more tangible. Phillip saw that individual grains of soil were lifting off the ground, as if supported by a strong wind that blew out of the earth itself. By the time the elemental reached the point of impact, all of the debris was airborne. It wafted toward the creature’s shattered forearm and re-formed into a fist as the beast watched with its dull, expressionless face.

  The elemental rotated its wrist and seemed satisfied. Clearly, it had no need of articulated fingers. Confirming that it was again fully functional, it turned its attention back to Phillip, taking the first slow steps that would soon become a full gallop.

  Phillip crawled backward, away from the creature, and felt a sudden jolt of blinding pain from his upper arm. He had not realized it was even injured before, but now he was sure it was broken. He rolled on his side, cradling his arm, which actually made it hurt worse.

  Looking down, past his broken arm and flailing, kicking legs, Phillip could see the dirt elemental coming his way, picking up speed. He knew that even if he did manage to regain his feet, he’d do it just in time to get knocked down again. His conscious mind didn’t have enough time to come up with a plan. His animal instincts told him to roll into a ball and hope it would be over quickly. Phillip decided to call that “Plan B” and was starting to struggle to his feet when a Gary-shaped blur streaked into view, sword drawn, and hacked off one of the creature’s arms.

  The dirt elemental skidded to a halt, showering the still-prone Phillip with dust and gravel. Slowly, it turned its back on Phillip, then walked over to the ruined remains of its severed arm. The few bits still recognizable as a former limb disintegrated into rubble, drifted into the air, then consolidated back into a functional arm.

  The dirt elemental glanced at Phillip, who was still trying to stand without jostling his arm. It looked as if it might finish Phillip off, but was distracted by Gary, who was jumping up and down and shouting insults in an attempt to get the creature’s attention.

  It worked. The creature looked at Gary, then started moving his way. Gary, naturally, fled.

  Gary ran in a wide curve, looping around toward Tyler and Jimmy. The creature followed. The creature was slightly faster than Gary in a straight line, but because of its much larger mass, it had a hard time managing turns, which slowed it down just enough for Gary to maintain his lead.

  When they saw that Gary was leading the creature back toward them, Tyler and Jimmy each ran in opposite directions, causing Gary, then the creature, to run between them harmlessly.

  “What are you doing?” Tyler asked as Gary ran past.

  “I’m bringing it over here, so you can get it off me,” Gary shouted.

  “That’s no good,” Tyler yelled to the now-distant Gary, who was still leading the creature in a wide arc.

  “Why not?”

  “Because then it’d be chasing me,” Tyler replied.

  Jimmy added, “Yeah, then I’d have to get it off him, and you’d have to get it off me. It’s not a long-term solution.”

  Gary’s cursing sounded distant and weak to Jimmy and Tyler. Phillip had made it to his feet by this time and was slowly walking toward them. He looked pale and shaken. Tyler told him to stay on his feet just in case but to keep his distance until they figured out what to do with the dirt monster.

  Jimmy watched a moment, then said, in a distracted voice, “It’s just chasing him. It’s not trying to cut him off, or throw anything at him. It’s just chasing.”

  Tyler nodded. “You’re surprised it’s not very bright? It was made by Todd. How smart can it be?”

  Jimmy drew his sword and glanced at Tyler, who glanced back and drew his own sword. Jimmy nodded, then called out to Gary.

  “Okay, we’re ready this time! Lead him back here and run between us!”

  Gary didn’t say anything, but he immediately changed course, turning sharply toward Tyler and Jimmy. The elemental was not able to turn as sharply and swung wide behind Gary, like a water skier slewing out behind the towboat.

  Gary made a beeline for Tyler and Jimmy. The creature continued making a beeline for Gary.

  Tyler and Jimmy stood motionless as Gary ran between them. As expected, the beast paid them no attention, continuing to home in on Gary. As it went past, Jimmy and Tyler both swung their swords. If they had been more coordinated as a team, they might have discussed whether they should swing for different parts of the creature’s anatomy, but they weren’t, so they both swung for the legs, neatly severing them from the elemental’s torso.

  The legs fell and tumbled and shattered as they hit the ground. The torso, arms, and head continued to move forward, carried by their own momentum. The creature swung its arms wildly, as if trying to regain its balance, but it had no legs to balance on. What served as the dirt elemental’s pelvis hit the ground first and crumbled into nothing as the mass of the creature’s torso rolled forward. After a bit more flailing and rolling, all that was left was a mess and a cloud of dust, which really is all there ever was to begin with.

  Tyler and Jimmy stood, looking down at their handiwork. Gary jogged up to join them.

  “Good work, guys,” Gary said. “Your plan worked.”

  “Plan?” Tyler asked. “That wasn’t the plan. That was improvising. The plan was to knock you down and see if the elemental would trip over you, but I lost my nerve.”

  They shared a chuckle, but it was short-lived. Nobody had to point out that the dust cloud was not dissipating. Soon, it began coalescing into the familiar form of the dirt elemental, lying facedown on the ground.

  Tyler looked to Phillip, who was still a good distance away. Tyler held up a hand, telling Phillip to keep his distance. Phillip did not need to be told this.

  The elemental slowly lifted itself to its feet. It did not speak, but its body language said that it was not happy. Jimmy, Tyler, and Gary took off running in three different directions, forcing the creature to decide which of them to chase.

  It chose Jimmy.

  Jimmy looked back over his shoulder and yelled, “See, Gary, a short-term solution!”

  Tyler sprinted to the top of the nearest mound, hoping he could see something, anything that might be of use. If not, they’d let the elemental chase Jimmy for a minute or so, chop it to bits, then start the whole process over again.

  Tyler shielded his eyes with his hand and muttered, “Thought I saw, as we walked here . . .”

  Tyler saw what he was looking for and yelled, “Jimmy! Jimmy!”

  When he was sure Jimmy was looking his way, he pointed back the way they’d come from and yelled, “Puddle!”

  Jimmy ran the direction Tyler had indicated, as did Tyler and Gary. They didn’t know what would happen, but they wanted to see it.

  Tyler tried to guide Jimmy toward the puddle, yelling, “Left! More to your left! No, not that far! Right!”

  Jimmy
missed the puddle but got close enough to get a good look. It was large for a puddle but far too small to be a pond. It was a ten-foot-wide amorphous blob of filthy-looking water that had either burbled up from the sickly ground or had fallen in the last rain and refused to penetrate any farther into this awful piece of land. It was surrounded by a three-foot moat of gummy-looking mud. Jimmy was glad he’d missed it, because he was half-sure that if he’d set one foot in the actual moistened area of the puddle, he’d have come to an instant stop and been helpless to escape from the dirt elemental.

  When Jimmy was beyond the puddle, he made a quick forty-five-degree turn in the direction of the puddle. He thought that if he was lucky, the elemental would try to cut the corner and get stuck in the mud. He didn’t dare slow down to look, but he didn’t have to. Tyler and Gary’s disappointed groans told him he had not been successful. He cursed himself, remembering that the stupid creature cornered like a tank. Expecting it to suddenly cut a corner more sharply than he had was a silly mistake.

  Jimmy ran as fast as he could in a straight line for a bit, then turned widely and lined up on a direct path for the puddle. He deliberately slowed, allowing the creature to close the gap. Jimmy ran as near as he dared to the mud bordering the puddle, then dodged to the left. He heard a splash, and Tyler and Gary cheering, and saw a lump of mud about the size of a watermelon fly past him to his right and splatter on the ground. As Jimmy slid to a stop, a second lump fell to the ground from a much higher, slower trajectory.

  Jimmy turned, hoping to see the monster stuck in the mud, and was disappointed. The elemental had made it to the other side of the puddle, and was down on its hands and knees, as if it had simply tripped on its way through the puddle, and now would get up, angrier than before. Jimmy couldn’t figure out why Tyler and Gary sounded so happy. Even Phillip seemed to be yelling congratulations while sitting on the ground, cradling his injured arm.

  It was only when the elemental tried to get to its feet again and failed that Jimmy realized why everyone was so delighted. The beast would not be able to get back on his feet because the two large blobs of mud that had gone flying were its feet. Clearly, they had quickly soaked up water on contact, then had become heavy enough to go flying when the beast kicked its feet forward to take a step.