Bekka of Thorns

by Steve Shilstone

  Med of the East fell silent for a moment and closed her eyes while thoughtfully stroking her wispy green beard. It was a sight Kar and I would grow to know well in the nearest of futures. We did nothing but wait for her to continue. We might have flicked a glance at each the other, but no more than that. The greenwing opened her eyes and sighed.

  “I’ll put it shortly on the ledge, for what is time but wasting? There came a week and better that the Thrice Rung Gong remained unstruck. The carrot gatherers began to mutter, and the rumor that the racketous garl was missing flew the tunnels all the way to the Cavern of the East. A boiling of unease brought the mass of citizenry here to listen to what the King or the Queen or even the Princess had to say about the dreadful impossibility. I myself was perched on that ledge there straight across.”

  Kar and I turned our heads to follow Med’s pointing finger, nodded, and turned ’em back.

  “It was the Princess who emerged from the Royal Doorway and told us. We couldn’t believe it. Our spirits leaked. Our hearts twinged, subsided. She told us that the rumor was true! The racketous garl had left to find a new home! The Princess reported that she herself had spoken to the garl! Another shock. We were all near to lifeless as the Princess spoke on. ‘Rumin is over,’ she said, ‘and yet, it may not be. The racketous garl did sing to me a riddle and pledged me to remember it. Then did the garl bind me in promise to say nothing at all for a week long length of time. I speak now. The week has flown. It is for us to abandon Rumin and search for the racketous garl. If we find success, we may rejoin the garl and build a new Rumin. The riddle song is the clue.’ Then is when the Princess sang the riddle. Like this.”

  Med spread her membraned emerald green wings, clasped her hands at her waist, closed her eyes, and sang. Such a sound of purity and loveliness filled the cavern that my jaw and Kar’s, too, dropped.

  “Sharumin’s golden flow, westward does it run,

  There I’ll grow my carrots deep, hiding from the sun.

  And yet, and yet, the emerald wings, will they find my lair?

  West and west, ever west, led by a youngling pair.

  In loomy bloys I’ll case my toys, bring carrots down and up,

  Black and gray and yellow green, with younglings I will sup.”

  After sending forth the final beautiful sound, she waited for the ‘up, up, up’ echo to fade, and as she did so, she bathed us in her kindly smile.

  “That was three bar years ago,” she said. “Three bar years. West and west we went searching, not finding. I myself alone came back because…because I was visited in a dream as I rested by a cold pool, and in that dream I was told to look for you. For you, black booted, gray clad, yellow green younglings with carroty hair.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  We Become Three

  How could it be such that an emerald greenwing spent time searching for us? How could it be so she followed us for a week? My mind swayed like the hedge in the fiercest of storms. How could my dream of adventure away from the hedge work so with such wonders? Truth, my body fairly buzzed with zinza. That means energy. My hand shot automatically to my belt to grasp the chonka which wasn’t there. I opened and closed my hand in spasm. I could think of nothing else to do. Such was so. A grateful gladness washed over me then right there because I heard Kar speak. My own tongue was tied down with vines of thrill. Kar’s remained Kar’s, ever ready to wag.

  “Are we the first bendo dreen you have ever seen?” asked Kar with no wobble at all in her voice.

  “Yes,” answered Med with the smile so kindly.

  “Do you think we are the youngling pair in the riddle song?” said Kar, asking exactly pure to the word what I hoped she would.

  “Yes, after much reflection…after one week watching you move along together in your stick house. And also, too, of course, with a guidance from the water wizard, who was, after all, a shapeshifter,” said Med.

  I shrieked silently at Kar to ask about the water wizard shapeshifter.

  “You met a shapeshifter?” asked Kar, and I beamed at her a look of fat satisfaction.

  “Met first in a dream which led me to the cold pool. He rippled up, then sprayed to a fine orange mist, then to a solid yellow green rock, then to a water wizard with a long carroty beard. A sightly miracle he was, floating above the cold pool, more dreamlike than had been my dream. I asked him if I was awake. He said that I was, and what was more, he had for me alone, Med of the East—he called me by name!—a guidance to help me find the racketous garl. Hold. I reflect,” said Med, and her eyes closed. She carefully stroked her wispy green beard.

  “Did you…?” pressed Kar before being silenced by Med’s upraised hand.

  “Now so,” continued Med, opening her ash blue eyes and catching us with their twinkle, “he urged me to sing the clue song. I did. He asked me what I thought it meant. I told him. He said, ‘Wrong. Sing it again.’ I did. ‘Well?’ he said, floating there seated on air. I tried again, bubbling about the underground river and how it ran from Skrabble in the east and under Clover to under the wasteland and way off west to under the Wide Great Sea, so was said. He shook his head. ‘Ye be misled, and all of the other greenwings, too, by the false clue river, Sharumin, Coil of Gold.’”

  I shrieked silently at Kar again, urging her to share with Med what we knew of Sharumin.

  “The river of the skrabbler Spar Marcasite and Ivah Skay, the Great Green Va? A Gwer drollek story, we know it well,” said Kar, and I beamed at her another look of fat satisfaction.

  “Do you then, Karro and Bekka of Thorns? A truth, Sharumin was there to mislead us. So told me the shapeshifter water wizard. The crucial words in the clue song were ‘youngling pair’, ‘carrots’, and ‘black and gray and yellow green’. Such he informed me. He said, ‘Go east, not west. Reflect, green wing, reflect. Be that not what ye do best?’ Then he shimmered to mist and sank into the pool.”

  “Was the water wizard wearing gloves or suspenders?” asked Kar, and I gave her a stab of a look to knock her back on track. In response to my look, she quickly said, “I mean, what happened next?”

  “But so,” answered Med. “I flew back east alone and began to roam the wasteland disguised as a wanderer cloaked in tatters. After a bar month of seeing nothing but a few lone mad wanderers, one morning I saw a stick house moving along above four marching black boots. There then, I trailed all day. Came evening and what emerged from under the stick house? A youngling pair, you two. With yellow green skin, black boots, gray clothing, carroty hair! I reflected and followed. Truth was truth. Your path led straight to the Most Secret Entrance to the Royal Chambers and Most High Ledge of Rumin! Such then, I lured you with wanderer shrieks after opening the Entrance. And now it is for me to ask if I may join you? Will you lead me to the racketous garl?”

  “Of course you may join us,” said Kar. “We will gladly lead you to the racketous garl.”

  The look I gave to Kar I am unable to describe.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sharumin!

  “Bekka of Thorns, the expression on your face speaks loudly, but not your tongue. Do you not want to lead me to the racketous garl?” said Med, tilting her head and regarding me mildly with her ash blue eyes.

  “Kar makes promises. She is famously known in the hedge as a cracked melon. I don’t care. I like it so. But sometimes truth is truth. We left the hedge to find adventure. We don’t know where anything is! We can’t lead ourselves!” I admitted.

  “Hold. I reflect,” said Med, and she closed her eyes and stroked her wispy softly green beard with the thumb and two fingers of an emerald green hand.

  Kar and I did nothing but stare. So such a wonderful sight she offered, from the gold of her sandals planted square solidly on the Most High Ledge all the way up to her cascades of softly green gray curls. After a lengthy pause of silence, she clapped her hands together one time, the echo sounding. She bent at the waist to study us, first Kar, then me, face to face. Kindness flowed from her to us. Her gold hoop ear
ring dangled.

  “It is a given truth, I believe…,” she said to Kar.

  “…that you are of the song…,” she said to me.

  “…Wherever you go…,” she said to Kar.

  “…will be the right way,” she said to me. She nodded once to each of us and stood up tall and straight.

  “That’s what I knew all along! See, Bek! That’s what I knew all along!” shouted Kar. “I’m going to lead! I will be the first bendo dreen to guide an emerald greenwing! Right now! Let’s go right now!”

  She leaped to her feet and raced through the doorway at the back of the Ledge. As for me myself, I remained seated. I shrugged. Too many excitements had taken my wits, all of ’em.

  “Dawn breaks, Bekka of Thorns. You are deep water. Kar is the rush. Together you flow. Give me your hand,” said Med of the East, and she reached for me, pulled me up.

  We walked along the Hall of Royal Chambers. We arrived at the spiral of chopped steps. Without a pause, up we went to emerge in a black and orange dawn. Kar paced there back and forth, waiting.

  “I feel it. I feel it certain. Such is so very so that it couldn’t be less!” Kar sputtered. “Over there. Over there I’m pulled. See?”

  To show how much power the pull had over her, she pretended to fight an invisible drag tugging her through a wide shallow scoop of cracked rocks and matted grass clumps in the direction of a low ragged ridge. She fell and flailed, sending her pack sliding. Then she went limp flat on her back. She raised her head.

  “See?” she said.

  “Over that ridge, Bekka of Thorns? Do you feel the pull?” asked the smiling Med.

  I shrugged. I could not believe that a glorious greenwing took my Kar seriously. Was such really so?

  “I need a moment, Karro of Thorns, and then will we join you,” continued Med. “Hold. I reflect.”

  I expected her eyes to close and her wisp of a beard to be softly stroked. I didn’t expect to watch her unfurl her great green membraned wings and lift herself from the ground to glide in a circle above the Entrance to the Royal Chambers and Most High Ledge. I absolutely truth such so did not expect to see the Entrance slam shut with a crash, leaving no hint of its existence. Such things I didn’t expect. Such things happened.

  “Lead on, Karro of Thorns,” she called while winking at me as she touched down lightly, tucking her wings bending furl all in a single smooth motion.

  Off we went. Truth, as easily as so, off we went. Kar strode with blind confidence up the ragged ridge, along a flat barren plain straight for a draw cut in a cliff, up the draw, down a twist gully and along a dry stone valley. She stopped where sheer walls of stone trapped us on three sides. We couldn’t go forward. The sun was sinking. Night approached.

  “We should go forwarder,” said Kar. “Up there I feel tugged.”

  “Then you shall be,” said Med of the East.

  Without warning, Med hugged and lifted both Kar and me, each in the grasp of an emerald green arm, and we were flown, lifted in powerful rocking flaps up to the top of the sheer stone wall and set down there on a field of scrubby tufts.

  “Now where?” asked Med, ash blue eyes twinkling.

  “There’s a cave tunnel underneath that scrubby bush right there. I know it,” said Kar calmly, ignoring what had just happened.

  She walked over to a bush that looked like all the others, tore off leaves to nibble, pulled at branches, furrowed at the roots and stepped aside with a smile of triumph planted on her jark dweg lips. There WAS a cave! I could not believe my eyes. How did she know? She lowered herself in without a word. I had to be led by Med. I was the flimsiest of jellies, my brain empty of reason. Down we went. I stumbled in darkness, turn and twist, Med holding tight to my wrist. After a seeming long time, I heard a distant roar of water. It grew louder and louder as on we went. Soon there came a dimness of light pulsing through the tunnel. Around a bend we walked into a brightness and saw the churning rush of a golden river. Sharumin, Coil of Gold!

  Chapter Sixteen

  Trapped

  “I am the first, I am the first, I am the first,” repeated Kar over and over and over again.

  Tears streamed down her face. I watched ’em glisten in the golden light of the running river. I knew why she wept. Kar was Kar, my friend, the cracked melon. Here was the first first in her life of firsts that wasn’t a silliness. Such was so. She WAS the first bendo dreen to look upon Sharumin, Coil of Gold, another Gwer drollek story come to life right there in front of our eyes.

  “You are the first, Kar,” I praised. “Our story is the Gwerest of Drollek now because of you. Truth!”

  “Hold! I reflect!” commanded Med.

  The harsh tone of her voice surprised us. Kar and I grew still, and we waited for Med to reflect. The embroidered gold of her vest and the gold stripes on her leggers danced with brilliant shine, mirroring the running surge of the underground river. The majestic greenwing stroked her wispy green beard. She frowned in a manner such of a like we hadn’t seen before. A moment’s time and she opened her eyes. Her hands dropped to her sides. The gold of the river jumped in her ash blue eyes. The familiar smile returned to her emerald green face. Kar and I both dared to breathe, more than somewhat relieved.

  “Bekka and Karro of Thorns, here we find ourselves in the thrall of Sharumin, Coil of Gold. A confusion has settled over me, but I have reflected on it. Confusion does make me cross. It irritates, I must confess. Reflection brings me to a calm. So it has. Sharumin in the song was a false clue, so said the water wizard. And yet, and yet, to find the racketous garl, I am tied to the trust I have placed in you two little hedge dwellers. I have reflected. Trust remains. Which way now, Bekka or Karro?” said Med of the East.

  I had nothing to say. I knew nothing. I looked at Kar. She was the one. How had she done it? How did we come to be standing by the magical river of such and so lore? My eyes asked her everything. She basked in confidence and river gold light.

  “We should go down the river. You should carry us,” she announced grandly, and lifted her arms, sure as thorns expecting Med to pick her up!

  Kar suffered no disappointment. In a nince Med had swept us both up, and we sailed down the tunnel above the golden writhing river. What I felt was nest snug comfort. What I felt was sagging exhaustion. We glided with such and so an ease! I could not hold my eyes open. I sank to sleep. That is why I don’t know how long it was until Med called out, “Which way now?!” I snapped my head back, popping awake, and the reason for Med’s question was there ahead of us. The river broke in half, branching down two separate tunnels. I knew at once that we’d reached beyond whatever was known in legend or lore about Sharumin, Coil of Gold. In no story I have ever heard, Gwer drollek or other, does Sharumin branch in two!

  “The left. Take the left,” I heard Kar casually command.

  Med veered into the mouth of the left yawning tunnel. The river ran quieter there. It thinned to a stream with a bank on each side. Med swooped to a stop on the left bank and put us down.

  “Hold. I reflect,” she said.

  She breathed heavily, fairly gasping. She closed her eyes and stroked her wispy green beard. Her breathing shallowed. She calmed. A glisten of sweat beaded her emerald green brow. She sighed once heavily, opened her ash blue eyes, and regarded us mildly.

  “Two small bendo dreen such as you gain weight through time. I confess I might have dropped you before much longer. But there. Relief appeared, as it should have. Are we to walk now, Karro of Thorns?” said Med.

  I noticed that she no longer included me in the question. Why should she? Kar puffed up with importance.

  “Yes,” she decreed.

  We walked, Kar leading, me dragging last. The tunnel narrowed. The ceiling lowered. The golden light grew dimmer as the river became a trickle, and finally, a dry tunnel floor. We went on, feeling our way blindly. Black dark surrounded us. Such was so. Med now had me by the wrist. She might have had a grip on Kar, too. I didn’t know. The scraping of high
boots and sandals, the only sounds, moved with us. It felt like we were going up. It felt up. After some time, a circle of light appeared in the distance. We hurried forward and poked our heads out of our tunnel into a dome of a cavern. The floor seemed a perfect circle, glowing like polished pearl. Sap milk smooth it glowed. We stepped out onto it. Instantly, it knocked us flat by suddenly spinning with a wild grinding whine. It flung us into a pocket tunnel across the cavern. We stared out, stunned. The circular wall of the cavern was pocked with tunnels.

  “Hold. I reflect.”

  We held.

  “The floor of this cavern spins when trod upon. I will examine all of the tunnels and discover which of them are pockets and which lead off some or other where.”

  Kar and I both nodded. It sounded good to us. Anything sounded good to me. I had nothing to offer. Too rattled and mixed to speak, Kar and I crouched and waited. Med flew from tunnel mouth to tunnel mouth. As she emerged from each, she called out, “Pocket.”

  “Can’t you find the one we came through?” suggested Kar, finding her voice, which was no surprise to me.

  Med flapped around more, returned to us, sat, folded down her wings, and said, “They are all pockets now. We are trapped. Hold. I reflect.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Abandoned

  Med of the East reflected a much longer time than ever she had before. I sat, too muddled with everything to think at all. I stared dumbly at Kar. I clung to her solid reality there beside me as a lone familiar object. Otherwise, I felt surrounded by such and so a magical strangeness. Kar’s yellow green eyes glowed with an eager fire. The rest of her sat patiently, a rarity for Kar. Med of the East opened her eyes.