The Three Thorns

by Michael Gibney

  The creature seemed to defy gravity the moment it appeared on top of the white rock, leaping gracefully. “Don’t be alarmed, we are safe for now,” it said, scouting around for any sign of unwanted trouble.

  It took a little while for Tommy to recognize his friend. “Peter?” Tommy gasped.

  Peter’s ears stretched into a straight point like the east and west points of a compass, revealing white fluffy hair all over them with the exception of a black lined streak. His hair was whiter than ever, reflecting the forest lights in the background. Tommy noticed that even Peter’s attire was different. Sticks, leaves and branches, all finely stripped, made up his clothes, with ripped leggings and brown boots. But the most peculiar characteristic about Peter was in his face. The face now appeared too feminine to belong to a boy.

  “What happened to your ears?” Tommy asked.

  The creature kicked its feet high into the air and laughed as it rolled upon its back.

  “What are you?” Tommy asked, with a light hesitance.

  “I’m a nymph. My real name is Ariel,” came her soft reply. “I was sent to the old world disguised as one of you, to guide you back.”

  “What is this all about?” he asked.

  “It is not for my lips to tell, little Master…we don’t know who could be listening,” she whispered. “But you will know everything soon.”

  “Shouldn’t we go back through the tree?” Tommy suggested, pointing at the great oak, only to discover that it had shrunk and changed to a shrub.

  “Why would we want to do that?” She laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll soon get used to things here,” she said, leading the way onto the colorful leafy road. “We must get moving, I’m taking you to the Stained Castle. All will be revealed to you then.”

  She knelt to the ground and rummaged through several leaves to pull out a living vegetable from its root.

  “Where are we?” Tommy asked.

  “We’re in the new world,” she announced, showing Tommy lands as far as he could see from the top of the white rock. “This is Abasin.”

  “It’s so big,” Tommy gasped.

  “You’ve no idea,” Ariel replied excitably. “Take this, it will build up your strength,” she added, handing Tommy the vegetable plant creature. Its legs moved, but the body of the vegetable seemed unresponsive.

  “Yuck! What is this?” Tommy asked in disgust, holding one of the squirming tentacles up by the tips of his fingers.

  The nymph sighed. “It’s food. You have to eat,” she ordered, leading the way forward.

  “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “Just eat, Thomas. The sooner you eat, the sooner you will feel better, and the sooner we can get moving,” she called back, impatiently.

  Tommy closed his eyes tight and braced himself to take his first bite of the vegetable. The tentacles flopped lifelessly to one side. It had a sweet texture mixed with an incredible savoury taste that took the nausea away from him almost instantly.

  “What about Benjamin and Sebastian?” he asked, sounding a little more alert.

  “We had to separate you. It’s safer that way,” came her quick reply.

  “But we all went through the same way,” Tommy insisted, sounding doubtful. The nymph took another look at the messy boy who had food stains on his chin.

  “Like I said, you’ll get used to how things work here,” she tittered. “Do not fear. There will be other protectors at their gateways to guide them to the Stained Castle.”

  “What’s the Stained Castle?”

  “A safe fortress. It once belonged to a great king, long before these dark ages,” she explained.

  Tommy couldn’t help but pose more questions to the nymph, his mind growing ever more interested in the fascinating new world of Abasin. But out of the numerous questions he had buzzing around his head, Tommy Joel knew which one concerned him most.

  “How far is it to this castle then?”

  ***

  Sebastian’s hands frantically clawed the muddy earth in search of his large glasses.

  He’d managed to brush off the soil and squirming shrubs before the new air made him throw up and lose his glasses in the process.

  “Where are you?” he cried aloud in frustration until a blurry object appeared, holding his glasses with one finger. Grabbing them, Sebastian quickly fixed the legs of his glasses around his ears.

  Once his frames were fixed upon his face, Sebastian could see the grubby fat creature he had so curtly snatched his glasses from.

  “That was so rude,” came the sharp greeting.

  Unwilling to converse with the creature, Sebastian turned around and speedily walked toward the gateway in search of Peter, keeping a close watch over his shoulder. Failing to notice the doorway had already closed, he bounced off the solid oak tree and landed backwards in the sludge. As he hit the surface, his glasses flew off his face and landed back into the hands of the fat creature.

  “Well, this is going to be interesting,” the creature said, sighing. “I can see you’re a right handful.”

  “Give them back!” Sebastian shouted, rubbing wet splatter marks of mud from his eyes as he swiped for his glasses.

  “Give what back?” the creature teased, before it eventually handed the boy his eyewear.

  “What in the world?” Sebastian gasped. His jaw hung open as he studied the offbeat figure dressed in dungarees and gray cotton overalls. Its nose was pointy and it had overgrown bumblebee wings sprouting from its back that glistened in the light. A mop of thick brown hair reached down to its eyebrows to accompany its circular chubby face. The creature was fat, but appeared capable and strong.

  “Are you sniggering at me, human?” it asked.

  “I do not snigger, I’m a respectable Englishman,” Sebastian replied, trying not to smirk.

  “Englishman? What is that? I’ve never heard of one of those before.”

  “By golly. Englishmen are polite, strong, decent folk, unlike creatures such as…whatever you are,” Sebastian rambled, showing off his self-educated manner.

  “I…my filthy whatever human…am a noble knighted whatever pixie,” scolded the creature, speaking with a noticeable but funny lisp.

  “Knighted, huh? I see. Shall I call you Sir Pixie then?” Sebastian teased.

  “My name is Cecil Baskin,” he growled back, but his timid voice and funny lisp spoiled his threatening demeanour. “You have a name, I presume.”

  “Sebastian Cain,” Sebastian said proudly.

  “I’m guessing those pillars below your torso work then,” Cecil suggested, pointing a funny looking walking stick at Sebastian’s legs.

  “Of course they do,” Sebastian snapped.

  “Well then, you will have no problem keeping up with my wings now, will you?” Cecil snapped back. It was clear that they misunderstood one another and this made Sebastian untrusting and Cecil irritable.

  “I am not going anywhere with you in this bog,” Sebastian whined, only to have Cecil Baskin’s stick knock repeatedly on the side of his head, which the boy tried to ignore. Sebastian mumbled, trying to excuse himself from Cecil’s presence, but instead he was interrupted with a tap on the head with every word he spoke.

  “Will you stop that!” the boy finally yelled, boldly reaching out to grab the stick off the agitating pixie.

  Cecil’s wings began to tire, causing his stumpy body to float lower until he could only muster enough strength to hover face to face with his human companion, panting out of breath. A smug smile crossed Sebastian’s mud-covered face.

  “You need a diet, Mr. Baskin.”

  “I’ve been sent to protect you,” Cecil said, as he spat spittle on the swampy ground.

  “That’s one nasty habit you’ve got there,” Sebastian said.

  “You have to come with me…your friends will be waiting for us,” Cecil insisted.

  “Why didn’t you say so? We could’ve already been on our way out of this
dump,” Sebastian groaned in disgust as he looked around at the barren wasteland of swamp. “I do hope you’re smart enough to get us out of here.”

  “Of course I am. I’m a Knight!” Cecil said boastfully.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Sebastian sighed, rolling his eyes.

  “I…I don’t know…but I didn’t achieve my Knighthood for nothing…now kick your feet up, it helps when walking through these lands. We have a long way to go, so I guess we’ll have to eat soon. I brought some pots and pans with me to make a stew while we camp,” Cecil said.

  “If you think I’m camping in this wide open hovel with you, you’ve got another thing coming,” Sebastian mumbled under his breath as they moved toward a massive mountain that hung over the entire scenery of swamp hills and mudslides. Glancing over his shoulder to talk to the hovering pixie, Sebastian felt another stinging tap strike his head.

  “Eyes front, boy-o, walk while you talk,” commanded Cecil.

  Nothing seemed to have any life around these parts of the new world. Sebastian noticed the emptiness in the lands afar, after the great oak tree shrunk to a tiny shrub in its place. Pieces of dead trees and rotted logs poked out everywhere from below the mire the further they trekked.

  “W-what happened to this place?” Sebastian asked, scanning the wasteland of oozing swamp.

  Cecil sighed. “This was once the greatest forest in all of Abasin, before it became the Black Swamp. A wicked politician, betrayed by the False One, was cursed here and his body was transformed into this sludge.”

  Sebastian glanced below his feet and started to lose his nerve. “You mean I’m walking on—” he cried out, climbing on top of a nearby log as far above the sludge as he could possibly get.

  “Not to worry, young Master, I assure you he’s a long time dead, or so I’ve been told,” Cecil insisted, reassuring Sebastian with an encouraging wink. “Take my hand, child. I won’t let anything bad happen to you, no matter how unfunny you seem to be,” he teased.

  Sebastian hesitantly took hold of the pixie’s warm and prickly hand. With one light tug, Cecil safely lifted the boy into the air and set him down into the sludge.

  “Chop chop,” Cecil continued, hovering beside the boy as Sebastian pushed and pulled his legs through the deep muck.

  “This is revolting. Where are we going, exactly?” Sebastian grumbled, taking long strides.

  “To the Stained Castle. That is where your friends are headed,” Cecil said quietly tapping him on his head using his stick once more. “Northeast, Sebastian Cain…eyes front.”

  Cecil pointed, directing the tired and filthy boy across the great swamp toward the overgrown mossy mountains in front of them.

  “And to think…this was my only good suit,” the boy sighed to himself.

  20

  Swords Against the Stone

  It took Benjamin a while to register where he was when he first awoke. The carcass of a dead nymph lay decaying a few feet away from his face. Benjamin yelped at the ghastly sight and ran toward the edge of an enormous cliffside to get away from it. Dark blue water led out to an ocean far below the thousand-foot drop. Once he noticed an old broken rope bridge that hung over an opposite cliff side, he decided to turn back. The sunset was clear and shone against his face. A low bundle of orange fruit trees covered the area ahead.

  Shrubs from the gateway clung and tangled around his arms. He pulled them off him without much effort. His stomach adjusted to the new air instantly. Suddenly, a shadow crossed his. A hairy unkempt creature stood a few feet in front of him. Its lower jaw stuck out like a piranha’s, showing a row of sharp teeth that grotesquely chattered.

  The ghoulish creature moved its raggedy head from side to side like an inquisitive dog the moment it spotted him.

  Benjamin took one step to the left and took an anxious breath when the creature suddenly mirrored his movement. Then, without warning, it started screeching to signal to its leader far away. In a heartbeat, a sword was slung from the fruit vine behind the noisy creature and struck a fatal blow.

  The courageous boy slowly stepped over the slain creature to get a closer glimpse past the fruit vine when a young man swiftly sprang out from the thicket. Benjamin jolted at the sudden presence of the man, who seemed uninterested in greeting him. Pulling his golden sword from the creature’s back, the young swordsman glared at Benjamin briefly after he wiped the thick bloodstains off his weapon’s tip.

  He was short for a grown man, and had cropped black hair and piercing dark eyes that gawked from under his thick eyebrows. Benjamin noticed the man’s skin was a tan color, much like the Spanish sailors he’d read about growing up. His features were severe, just like a pirate. Maybe he is a pirate? Benjamin wondered.

  The young man knelt down beside the slain nymph and closed its eyelids with a stroke of his fingers.

  Sensing the young man was of no threat to him, Benjamin decided to break the ice. If Sebastian had have been there he could have put off the formal greeting a little longer, but this was the quiet, shy Benjamin, trying to be as direct as he knew how.

  “Are you a pirate?” Benjamin asked openly.

  “Ask that again you little toad, and I’ll show you what I would do to you if I were such a treacherous soul,” the young man snapped, pointing his shiny gold weapon at the tip of Benjamin’s babyish nose. Benjamin stiffened in fear.

  “I hope you were referring to the human,” a voice gurgled from the bushes.

  The young man swung his sword toward the shaded cliffside where a little man that resembled a toad-like mutant crept out from the trees.

  “Lower your weapon, bounty hunter,” the toad-man instructed, followed by an unsettling gurgle.

  “Well, if it isn’t the infamous Trump,” replied the young man. “Still in that horrible body?” he teased. “It must be hard knowing how beautiful you once were, having to wake up every day to the thing you are now. At least now the outside of you matches the inside.”

  The toad-man named Trump was repulsive to look at. Slime dripped off the stubborn amphibian and there was something about the shifty look in his fishy eyes that made Benjamin uncomfortable.

  “Don’t pay any attention to him, Benjamin, he’s bounty hunter scum,” Trump gurgled.

  “How did you know my name?” Benjamin asked with suspicion.

  “My boy, you are known to everyone here in Abasin,” Trump said gleefully.

  “Abasin?” Benjamin asked.

  “Yes! All you see around you is Abasin. Welcome to the new world,” Trump gurgled and smiled. “You are very famous here.”

  “I am?” Benjamin gasped, smiling in shock and excitement.

  “I’m taking the boy to the Stained Castle,” the bounty hunter interrupted.

  “My orders are to stay here and wait for the other protectors to arrive,” Trump argued, scowling suspiciously.

  “Really?” the bounty hunter asked, disbelievingly. “I’m changing those orders. It’s too unsafe here. Screams of a sea guard will not go unnoticed. Not from these heights,” he continued, brushing past the toad-man. “We go to the castle.”

  As Benjamin sat carefully studying the unusual pair, a sudden strange change in the color of Trump’s skin caught his eye. In a matter of seconds Trump’s color changed from lime green to light orange, revealing his mood of irritation.

  “I can’t leave without my friends,” Benjamin insisted to the pair.

  “Your friends are safe. I’ll take you to them.” With one sharp stroke the bounty hunter pointed his sword at the dead nymph. “I’ve been sent to replace your protector.” He then handed Benjamin a large dagger and a heavy bag of food. “I trust you are strong enough to carry these?” the bounty hunter asked, raising his thick eyebrows in hope of a positive answer.

  “The boy is too small to carry all that. He’ll slow us down,” Trump grumbled, hopping in front of the bounty hunter’s path.

  “Are you deliberately trying t
o slow us down before we even get started, Trump?” the bounty hunter asked, folding his arms. “I have a better idea. Since you’re so concerned about the human’s ability, you can carry the food and the water too,” he ordered, throwing the heavy bag into Trump’s slippery hands.

  Benjamin stuck close to the bounty hunter to escape the sour company of the cursed toad-man.

  “So, what’s your name?” Benjamin asked.

  “Cassius,” the bounty hunter replied unenthusiastically while they waited for Trump to catch up. Slogging with the weight of the small bag on his slimy, disease-ridden back, Trump’s complaining finally stopped.

  “Move it, Trump, we’ll vanish with hunger by the time you get across these fields. Hop to it,” Cassius shouted.

  “You don’t like him much, do you?” Benjamin asked quietly so Trump wouldn’t hear.

  “I don’t trust him,” Cassius corrected, holding an old bronze timer and compass up to the sunset. “It’s as I feared. We’re already behind the others.”

  Cassius led the way across a beautiful landscape of greenery and fruit patches that ran parallel to the moss-covered mountains. Close by, but a few miles west of them, Sebastian and Cecil Baskin continued to make their own way through the Black Swamp.

  Benjamin’s excitement grew the moment the Stained Castle became visible. His legs were almost worn out from walking in the evening heat. “Can we rest and eat now?” he asked.

  Cassius pointed to a cluster of large rocks that rested on the top of a gigantic hill. “We shall rest once we reach those rocks,” he said. “It’s safer upon high ground.”

  Trump’s pores oozed with enough slime to make his own pond by the time they reached halfway up the hillside. Cassius paused for his companions to catch up every time he climbed too far ahead of them.

  “You’re almost there, Benjamin,” he called down from the large rocks above them, once he’d made it to the top.

  Suddenly, the sound of marching footsteps emerged nearby. Cassius jumped to the highest point to get a better view. A horde of twenty soldiers swarmed over another hillside and briefly halted when they spotted Benjamin and Trump.