A Strange Tale

by James Somers

  The passage through one of the chamber’s looking glass portals brought them into what first appeared to be complete darkness. Soon their eyes adjusted and Percival took in more details about their surroundings in the imaginative world of Horrif-I.

  Once he saw the world they had arrived in, Percival couldn’t believe he had actually said yes to the Lonelys. The sky boiled above them, an angry red glow swirling in black clouds. Lightning, in shades of white, yellow, blue, even purple assaulted the ground at regular intervals around the castle in the distance.

  All sorts of odors assailed them from the humid air—rotting flesh, brimstone and ozone. The oppressive heat made breathing a chore for Percival. He’d been borderline asthmatic all his life. Violet came to him as he began to gasp. “Percival, are you all right?”

  “I can hardly breathe,” he said between labored breaths.

  Mr. Lonely grabbed him by the shoulders. “Percival, you can breathe—just imagine it to be so. Create the atmosphere you want around yourself, just like the ice and the tree.”

  Percival stared into his eyes. Yes, it made sense. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, coughed then tried again. All the while, he imagined the air the way his parents kept it in their house—heppa filters in use, dehumidifier humming in his room on nights he had encountered problems, cool and clean.

  His breathing became easier. Percival straightened and opened his eyes. He felt much better and smiled at Mr. Lonely. “Thanks, that’s great. I think I’m all right now.”

  “Just remember the power you have, Percival,” Mrs. Lonely said. “Oh, and those clothes, they’ll never do.” She passed her hand over them, and their clothing reverted to a medieval style—Percival wearing something a page might have worn, and Violet in tan leather breeches with a brown tunic over the top and her hair braided. “A warrior-ess for the journey,” Mrs. Lonely giggled.

  Mr. Lonely nodded. “Good. Now, the Trial will depend upon your ingenuity and how well you wield your imagination.”

  Percival nodded, watching Violet.

  “We had better be on our way,” Mr. Lonely said.

  The road before them wound like a snake through the surrounding wasteland, spreading away on every side. Barren trees littered the rocky terrain, jutting from the dry earth like skeletons. Long, black centipedes, as big as Percival’s forearm, skittered across the ground in search of mice and small lizards.

  The road traveled away from their destination into the endless wilderness all the way to the horizon. Before them, it led to an imposing gothic edifice.

  “Is that where we have to go?” Violet asked.

  “Bloodmare Castle,” Mr. Lonely said.

  Percival was immediately struck by the lack of a defensive wall, like most castles he had seen, and said so.

  “A wall?” Mr. Lonely chortled. “Who would ever try to get into the place? Maybe a wall to keep poor souls inside would be more appropriate.”

  They began their trek along the dusty, earthen road toward the castle. The entire stretch of it had been lined on either side with long staves. Upon the staves, hung the skeletons of those unlucky enough to have incurred Lord Pipsqueak’s wrath. They had been impaled and left for the vultures to pick clean.

  Violet grabbed hold of Percival’s arm as they walked. She didn’t say anything, but the way she peered at the skeletons let Percival know she was scared. Strangely, Percival was not. He couldn’t have explained it if anyone had asked, but he had sort of expected something terrible. He hadn’t been disappointed. However, after facing the zombies, the giant lizard and the whole experience of the Lonely Manor, Percival found this rather tame. Still, he wasn’t about to discourage Violet’s hold on him. But he tried not to act as happy as he felt by it.

  “Why didn’t we just come through a portal, or something, straight into the castle?” Percival asked.

  Mr. Lonely grumbled. “Because Lord Pipsqueak assures me that his magical barriers, traps and defenses are much too complex to undo on the spur of the moment to allow a portal.”

  “Oh,” Percival said.

  “Of course, I don’t believe that tripe,” Mr. Lonely said, disgusted. “He just wants to make this as inconvenient as possible. He’s always been standoffish with the office of Master Caretaker.”

  “You’d think our being from Horrif-I would have made some difference, but no,” said Mrs. Lonely.

  “You come from this place?” Violet asked.

  “Yes, of course, dear,” Mrs. Lonely said. “Where on earth did you think?”

  “Uhm, Earth,” Percival said. “We thought you guys were human, too. Aren’t all of the Master Caretakers human?”

  “No,” Mr. Lonely said, “and you mustn’t let on that you are either. It isn’t forbidden, but that’s exactly the kind of thing that Lord Pipsqueak would use to destroy the fragile peace we have with Urbane.”

  “Urbane?”

  “Your world,” Mrs. Lonely said. “It’s what the denizens of the imaginative worlds call reality.”

  “Why?” Violet asked.

  Mister and Mrs. Lonely glanced at one another. “I don’t know,” he said. “We just always have. Anyway, if Pipsqueak found out you’re human, he would almost certainly stir up the other delegates and possibly storm the gates leading to your world.”

  “That’s why we chose you, dear,” Mrs. Lonely said. “As a human, you are descended from the first man, wrought by the hand of the Master Creator. You are created in his image and bear creative abilities that set you far above the ranks of creatures such as us.”

  “That’s right,” Mr. Lonely added. “You might be green now, but you have potential unlike any Master Caretaker to hold the office before.” He smiled proudly at his wife. “Who better to take over when we’re sitting on the brink of war?”

  Percival considered the possibility of a war between the imaginative worlds and his own. What would that look like? How could humanity fight against such creatures?

  They kept up their pace along the winding path until the castle towered over them. Soon Percival would find out what his Trial consisted of and many other things. He only hoped he was ready.

  BLOODMARE CASTLE

  As Percival and his companions approached Bloodmare Castle, he noticed a dense fog surrounding it that extended nearly fifty feet up its walls. “That doesn’t look very inviting,” Percival said.

  “Don’t worry,” Mr. Lonely said. “We’ll have safe passage. I doubt anyone would dare to attack the Master Caretaker of the Manor, even in Horrif-I.”

  “Doubt?” Percival muttered under his breath.

  Tendrils of fog, similar to dry ice vapor, bubbled out along the ground before them. The fog swept over their feet, obscuring the ground completely. “I feel cold,” Violet said. She began to tremble, so much that she let go of Percival’s arm in order to wrap her arms around her body for warmth.

  “What’s happening?” Percival asked.

  “Bloodmare’s fog,” Mr. Lonely replied. “It can have different effects on different people.

  “I’m freezing,” Violet said through chattering teeth. “Aren’t you cold, Percival?”

  “No,” he said. “I feel fine.”

  “Try to ignore it as best you can,” Mr. Lonely said. “It’s actually in your mind that you feel cold. If you can suppress the thought then it will fade.”

  Violet shivered again, trying to put the cold out of her mind. “I guess it isn’t as easy as it sounds,” she said.

  They continued walking across the barren space between the end of the road and the castle. The mass of fog had come out to meet them now. As soon as it surrounded them, Percival reached for Violet. He caught hold of her hand, just as Mister and Mrs. Lonely called out to them. Percival could not make out what they had said. The fog had stolen it away, making them sound very distant despite the fact they had all approached Bloodmare Castle together.

  “What happened to them,” Violet whispered. “Percival?”

  He held her tightly,
fearing she would be taken from him in the fog. “I don’t know, but stay close and don’t let go.”

  Violet’s grip tightened on his arm. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “How do we find the castle? I can’t see a thing.”

  Percival stood there in a white-out, wondering exactly the same thing. The castle had been in front of them when the fog consumed their party, but he wasn’t sure it would still be there. His experience, so far, had been not to trust perceptions. He could easily be misled, perhaps even into some horrible trap. This world certainly wasn’t called Horrif-I for nothing.

  “Let’s just try shuffling our feet forward,” Percival said. “I’m not sure we should move too fast, just in case something is waiting for us.”

  Violet agreed, holding tight as they shuffled forward together. Voices, whispers really, began to filter in from the fog, indistinct. “What was that?” she asked.

  They stopped. Percival listened. “I don’t hear it.”

  No sooner had he spoken than a rumbling growl drifted in around them. They froze in place. “Where is it coming from?” Violet hissed.

  “Everywhere, nowhere, I’m not sure,” Percival said. The hair on the back of his neck was standing up. Chills ran races up and down his spine. The growling continued between deep, heaving breaths. Percival still could not see anything around them, but the fog.

  “We need a weapon,” Violet suggested. “Can you imagine a gun, or something?”

  “I’m not sure this world would allow me a gun,” he said. “Mr. Lonely told me that you had to be careful what you created because the worlds have rules. It would have to fit the setting.”

  “A sword maybe?” she suggested.

  Percival nodded. “Good idea.” He held out his hand, for lack of any other visible place to create it. He imagined and said, “A sword in my hand.”

  Within his grasp, a swirl of silver light coalesced into a short sword. “Are you kidding me,” Violet scolded. “That thing wouldn’t hurt a fly, Percival.”

  He looked at the sword, which resembled something he’d seen in a medieval catalog one time. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He concentrated on the weapon in his hand, commanding again, “A much deadlier sword.” He imagined another sword he had seen on the internet—one he had thought was very cool at the time. The blade grew, reshaping itself into a longer weapon with a serrated blade and spiked hilt-guard. Jewels encrusted the handle near the dragon head cross-guard.

  “Oh well, much better,” Violet said.

  The growling moved around them now, as though whatever creature was out there was preparing to strike. Percival gripped the hilt of the sword tightly with both hands. “If only I could see.” He pushed out with that thought.

  The fog blew away from them like an invisible bubble, growing to push it back on every side. As the fog swept away, a tall beast was revealed behind them. Huge and hairy with saliva frothing from its open jaws, the beast leaped at Percival. Violet screamed as Percival turned, raising the sword before him.

  The wolf-like creature slammed into them. It screamed in agony as the sword impaled it through the heart. Its weight and momentum battered both Percival and Violet. Percival hit the ground next to the mortally wounded beast, but Violet fell backwards over the side of a pit only just uncovered by the retreating fog.

  She screamed as she toppled over the side. Percival lunged after her, catching her wrist before she got away completely. He pulled as hard as he could, wishing he’d done some weight lifting like his dad had often encouraged him to do.

  “Don’t let go!” Violet screamed. She managed to get her other hand around Percival’s wrist as he did the same for her. They pulled together until Violet had cleared the edge of the pit. They stood there laboring to breathe, frightened to death, but glad to both be alive.

  The werewolf leaped up from the ground, blood slobbering from its jagged teeth. Violet reacted with her training, kicking the beast in the chest, sending it over the side of the pit. It howled its fury all the way down. They watched as it landed among the writhing bodies of millions of man-sized insects inhabiting the bottom of the chasm.

  A swarm covered the creature, tearing it apart before its scream died away. Violet turned to Percival, burying her face in his chest in horror. “I think I’m going to puke,” she gasped.

  Percival patted her back, trying to console her, but the truth was he was terrified too. Violet had been only a hand-slip away from that same fate. Why had he gotten her involved in this in the first place? He wanted to slap himself a hundred times over for ever following the bank robber through the woods. Even with a potential war looming, wasn’t ignorance still bliss?

  As the fog continued to push away around them, Bloodmare Castle appeared beyond the chasm—a virtual mountain of doom and gloom. The chasm lay situated like a moat right in front of it. Anyone walking through the fog would be torn limb from limb before they even realized they’d fallen.

  “Well, there’s the castle again,” Percival said. He looked at the chasm. “No wonder they don’t need a defensive wall.”

  Violet got herself together and let go of Percival. She turned, but still tried to avoid looking at the chasm that had nearly claimed her. “How do we get over there?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Percival said. “I can’t see any bridge.”

  “Then make one,” she replied.

  “Exactly!” Mr. Lonely said. He and his wife rushed over as the fog revealed them nearly thirty yards away. “Make a bridge, Percival.”

  “What happened to you two?”

  “We got separated in the fog—couldn’t hear or see either of you,” Mr. Lonely said. “Still, it looks like you’ve made out all right. Don’t be shy about using the power you have, my boy. That’s what this is all about. As Master Caretaker of the house that bridges our worlds it will be essential.”

  “Maybe you should do it,” Percival suggested.

  Mister and Mrs. Lonely glanced at one another knowingly before he replied. “Actually, I’ve already given you all but the least of my power.”

  “I don’t understand,” Percival said.

  “Well, it’s not like a mortal can just come in and start doing amazing things,” Mr. Lonely explained. “It’s just that you have such potential to use the power of this office. So, in order for you to face the Trial, I had to endow you with the power. Appearing to the delegates as Marlon’s apprentice is just a cover for why you have any power at all. Only Marlon knows what I’ve done, and you must not let that secret out. If warmongers, like Pipsqueak, knew that you had my power they would attack us all, immediately.”

  “When did you do it? I don’t remember anything,” Percival said.

  “Just because you didn’t see it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen,” Mr. Lonely said. “When you were born again, did you see anything happen then?”

  “Well, no,” Percival admitted.

  “You see? You passed from death unto life, were remade, reborn and given eternal life and yet you saw nothing. Still, the effects of that birth are clearly seen. You didn’t see this power given unto you, but it happened nonetheless.”

  “That’s why you didn’t stop the fog from overtaking us?” Violet asked. “No power?”

  “Quite right, my dear,” Mr. Lonely said. “So, you had better make the bridge, Percival, or we’ll have none. Then we can be on our way.”

  Percival concentrated on the chasm and a bridge he could make that would be suitable here in Horrif-I. The ground nearby erupted—rock, earth and the bones of some long dead monster all shooting out of the side of the chasm toward the other side. The material swirled around, coalescing into a twisting double helix that arched over the expanse of the chasm, attaching itself to the opposite wall.

  Percival and Mr. Lonely walked over to it with Violet and Mrs. Lonely following. “Hmm,” Mr. Lonely said, surveying Percival’s handiwork. “It’s original, I’ll give you that.”

  “Yeah, but will it hold when we try to cross it
?” Percival asked skeptically.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Mr. Lonely said. He started to take a first step then quickly pushed Percival out onto the bridge first.

  “Hey!” he protested, but it was too late. He was already there. The bridge seemed quite sturdy, never making the slightest squeak or groan as Percival walked across. When he reached the other side, he turned back to the others. “No problem,” he said.

  The others followed him across, although he could tell Violet seemed reluctant about walking over the pit of giant insects which had nearly devoured her earlier. Still, she did her best, keeping her eyes on Percival standing on the other side. When everyone had crossed, they regrouped, heading for the massive iron gates of Bloodmare Castle.