by Ivory Autumn
Chapter Sixteen
The Foglocker
An hour passed, then two. The night grew darker. Still Ivory did not return.
Andrew looked apprehensively out into the darkness. "Where is she? She should have been back by now."
Rhapsody frowned and nodded. "You're right. She has probably gone too far and gotten lost."
“Then we should go after her!" Andrew said. "She could be hurt, or something could have..."
"We'll find her," Rhapsody assured him. "Don't you worry, Andrew. She'll be alright. I am, after all, pretty good at finding things. I found you, after all. "He cast Andrew a mysterious glance, and filled his lungs with air, as if he was getting ready to blow out a host of birthday candles. Then he let the air out of his lungs in one long breath. The fog parted, only for a second and then floated back around him.
“Pesky, pesky fog,” Rhapsody said, fanning the air. “Trying to blow fog away is like trying to carve a hole into water. Impossible!” He walked about, and prodded Talic, and Freddie with his staff, waking them. "Come, come, boys. Time to wake up. We're going after Ivory. She hasn't come back yet. We need you to be watchful, and wakeful."
They all stood together, looking out into the mist, afraid of the night.
“It’s up to you now, Andrew,” Rhapsody murmured. “My talents and gifts only work so far. As for you, you have much unexplored potential.”
Andrew shook his head. “How is it up to me?”
“Ivory found you once when you were in trouble. Isn’t that correct?”
“Yes, she did, but...”
“Then you must find her. Logically it’s only fair.”
“Everything isn’t always fair.”
“No, no, it’s not. But if you could find her, you’d do it. Right?”
“Yes, I would.”
“Then look about you, and tell me what you see.”
“Well, that’s easy. Fog.”
“No! No, NO!” Rhapsody snapped. “Don’t look at the fog, look past it---through it. Do whatever you did in the valley of the Chewthumps. See beyond this DRATTED FOG! Pretend it's dirt, and that you're looking through it.”
“But the fog isn't dirt. And I don’t know what I did. I just did it. Because I wanted to.”
Rhapsody's face lit up. "Ah, there, you see. You wanted to. So want to, and you will!"
"I want to..." Andrew tried. "But it's not working. Couldn't you just teach me how to see?" Rhapsody shook his head. “Teaching such things cannot be done by me. It must be done by someone more certified in that field---such as yourself.”
“Myself?”
“Yes, yourself. You see, Andrew, no matter the gifts you possess, they are like any other talent. They must be developed, sharpened. You are like a kitten first opening its eyes; you must first learn to see and then learn to comprehend what you see. No teacher can do that for you. No one but you can open your eyes.”
“But, my eyes are open.”
“Perhaps you just don’t know how to see then. That makes all the difference.”
Andrew sighed in frustration. “Rhapsody, then I must be blind. Because I can’t see anything.”
“Andrew, you cannot see because you are focused on the fog around you. Try to see past the fog. TRY! Fog is only the sky hugging the earth, trying to comfort its fear of the darkness. You don’t need the comfort of the fog, Andrew. It’s useless. It only muddles the mind! True vision is seeing past the fog, and obstacles, to something much greater because you believe it is there. ”
Andrew closed his eyes while he listened to Rhapsody’s soft voice, trying, as Rhapsody said, to, see through the fog.
Rhapsody looked at Andrew expectantly. “Tell me, Andrew, do you see?”
“Yes…” Andrew murmured, after a long pause. “Yes…I do see something.”
Rhapsody’s face showed excitement. “Yes?”
“Wait..." Andrew murmured, "is that you, Talic?”
"Ouch!" Talic yelped. "Yes. Good job. You found me!"
Rhapsody did not look amused. “Move. Talic. Andrew, try again.”
Andrew stared blankly ahead, concentrating hard. After what seemed like forever, his eyes burned a vibrant green, like new leaves in springtime. He pointed to the far right. “I think I saw her. That way. See that black earth over there, how its color is different compared to the color of the dirt surrounding it? That’s the path she’s on.”
Rhapsody held aloft a torch and nodded. “Yes. I see it. How very curious. The earth looks black as coal. What else did you see, Andrew?”
Andrew shook his head. “It’s hard to say. Everything’s so murky, so confusing. Ivory is in trouble is all I know.”
“Then it’s best we get to her, and soon,” Rhapsody said, mounting his horse. "Andrew, lead the way."
Andrew took the lead, and walked on ahead, charting their path, while the others rode behind him. The going was slow. The dark path was winding, and full of obstacles and fallen trees. The further they went, the deeper the path sunk down into a dipper- shaped valley. The longer they traveled the more thicker and heavy the air became, like an old stuffy room that had never had a window opened in a thousand years.
Above them, Andrew could feel—more than see---the presence of the sun creeping over the hills. Morning, Andrew thought longingly. If only the fog could remember that it was time for it to be leaving.
“Ugh,” Talic said. “It’s so stuffy, it’s hard to believe that we’re outdoors.”
“We’re not outdoors,” Rhapsody murmured. “We’re on the Foglocker's path; there’s no place more encompassed by invisible rooms, and crowded edifices than here.”
Andrew looked up curiously. “The Foglocker’s path?”
Rhapsody nodded. “The Foglocker’s way is one of confinement, imprisonment, and captivity. Air is a source of freedom, so in this place, there is little, if any of that. Now take care and do as I say.” He put a finger to his lips and slowly slipped off his horse. Then motioning the others to follow him, he peered behind a low boulder atop the hill. “Quickly, Andrew, look to where I point and tell me what you see.”
Andrew leaned over the rock, and looked to where Rhapsody was pointing. He could see the dark path steadily spiraling downward until it became clouded over with dark patches of thick fog. The hill was dotted with scruffy trees and briers. The fog floated in thick patchy clumps, revealing obscure bits of land, only to cover it back up.
Andrew shook his head. “I can’t do it again, Rhapsody. It’s so hard. The fog’s too thick. When I try to look, it feels like the sky is trying to crush me with its weight.”
“You must do it again,” Rhapsody said. “Or we’ll never find Ivory before we are trapped here ourselves. You must understand that the longer we stay in this land the harder it will be for us to get out of it.”
“Okay,” Andrew breathed, staring below him at the thick fog until his eyes watered and burned. He stood there, perfectly still, unblinking, barely even breathing, until gradually he thought he saw through the thick fog as if he was traveling down a long mountain tunnel, until he saw a bumpy moor, sheltered on either side by low hills covered in jutting rocks.
Standing atop one of the low hills was a man. His long body gradually became visible through the parting fog. His face was scarred and wrinkled, like a bird-pecked pear. His clothes clung raggedly about him. Sewn into every inch of his ragged cloak were thick keys of every shape and size. Heavy chains grew out of the man’s scalp like iron hair braided together in strange looking knots. Attached to the strands of chains were locks and keys, like nightmarish Christmas tree ornaments. The man had a black shepherd’s crook in his hand, and embedded up and down the crook, were odd hooks. Attached to the hooks were hundreds of keys of various sizes, makes, and colors. When the man walked, the sound of the clanking locks, tinkling keys, and jangling chains could be heard.
The man abruptly turned, as if he saw Andrew staring at him. He smiled, showing off a mouthful of t
eeth, made up of sharp jagged keys that protruded from his mouth and gums in an unsightly fashion. The man’s hard stare made Andrew catch his breath and his chest burn. He tried to turn his eyes away from the man. But he couldn’t.
Just when Andrew thought he couldn’t stand it any longer, the man turned his gaze and raised his staff and shook it at a vast herd of black sheep on the hill behind him. All the sheep looked as thin as death, miserable and hungry. Each sheep had a heavy chain around its neck, with a weighty lock attached to the chain that weighed the sheep down as it walked, so it couldn’t look up.
The Foglocker turned his gaze back to Andrew once more. The gaze was so powerful that Andrew let out a painful gasp. The man’s fierce glare summoned him, called to him, and begged him to follow. Andrew shuddered and took a step forward, nearly toppling over the incline.
“No!” Rhapsody cried, placing his hands over Andrew’s eyes and pulling him back.
“You’re okay, Andrew,” Rhapsody said. “The Foglocker cannot see you, here. You’re too far away. But when he is near, never gaze into his eyes. NEVER!”
“What does he want?” Andrew gasped.
“You, me, anyone and everyone.”
“But why?”
“Who’s to say why? He just does.”
Andrew looked troubled. “I saw black sheep, hundreds of them, following that man, the Foglocker. But I didn’t see Ivory.”
“It wasn’t sheep you saw, Andrew.”
“It wasn’t?”
“It was people.”
“I don’t understand?”
Rhapsody leaned in closer, gazing at Freddie, Andrew, and Talic with serious eyes.
“You see, boys, all those who listen to the Foglocker’s voice, when he is near, are brought under his power. He leads those who follow him onto paths that are uneven, and onto treacherous grounds. He leads many away from their good course, with his soft voice and honeyed words. He gives promises of better ground, and thus many are deceived by him and are taken. The promises he lures many away with are as simple as promises of warmth, food, shelter, and money. But all he offers is the illusion of such things. Nothing he promises is real. His lies are hidden in this fog, where he preys upon the vulnerable who see his illusions as real. Someday, when good is restored to the earth, his fog will lift, and so his lies will be revealed and truth restored. But for now, this land, this terrible place, is where many a wanderer has come to the end of his journey. Thus is the dreary way of the Foglocker, and his miserable followers. His joy is their misery and his life is spent luring wanderers to his fold.”
Andrew looked warily below them at the mist. “Do you think Ivory is with him then? Like those other people?”
Rhapsody nodded. “Yes, I’m certain of it. Andrew you must lead us through this fog, into that miserable valley.”
Andrew hesitated. “But, if Ivory is chained like those other poor beings, how do we unlock her?”
Rhapsody let out a bitter laugh. “The key to her freedom is in her hands.”
“If it’s in her hands, then why doesn’t she free herself?”
"Why?" Rhapsody repeated. "Because, many a prisoner holds the key to his freedom. But the power for him to put the key into the lock, and turn it, is not---unless they know that the key is in their hands, and that there is someone to help them lift it to the lock."
"So, I must find her, and help her lift her hands to the lock?" Andrew wondered.
Rhapsody nodded. "Yes. Andrew. Now lead on. Every moment we squander, the harder it will be for Ivory to become free.”
The travelers left their horses on the top of the hill, behind a low boulder, then trekked onward down the path, closer to the Foglocker. Nearing the bottom, the fog momentarily lifted, and they all paused, taking in the sad view.
“Unbelievable," Freddie murmured, peering from behind a shrub at the black beings Andrew had thought were sheep. They dotted the hill like black mold on a dry crust of bread. The poor people were standing on all fours, like dogs. Their skin was coated in dark black mud, and their clothes were ragged. Their eyes were dark in an eternal message of misery.
Rhapsody pointed to a prostrate form amid the crowd of black beings. “There she is. Ivory. He has taken her captive, and used her own fear of being forsaken to bind her in chains.”
At his words, a terrible moaning filled the air as the Foglocker let out a loud cry, and shook his key-covered stick. “Follow! Follow!”
“No one look into his eyes!” Rhapsody commanded. “No one!”
