The Questory of Root Karbunkulus - Quill (12 page)

Only once, when Dwyn could no longer stand
the slamming attack of Chesterly’s breath, was the subject of
Skubblenob’s intrusion actually broached.

“Get your stupid dog outta my face!” Dwyn had
yelled. “And speaking of stupid, your so-called Tempowhatever has
got to be the most stupidest thing to have ever come into
existence!”

The Inventor looked at Dwyn with eyes so, so,
so pathetically injured that even Root and Lian turned to Dwyn
demanding an apology. It wasn’t necessary. Dwyn had instantly
regretted it. When the single burgeoning tear in the old man’s eyes
finally fell with a great big loud pitying splash Dwyn was already
back-pedaling.

“I mean. Did I say stupid? I
meant…ga...lu...pid. Galupid. It’s an Earth word. It means awesome!
And your helmet? Why, it’s the…it’s the Galupidest…ever!”

The old man paused. He lifted his chin to let
the word slide in. And then his trembling lips formed into a
grateful smile that gave the sun a run for its money.

Before anyone knew what had happened a group
hug came into effect and there was no turning back.

Even when reality snuck back all too soon,
the team couldn’t bare to face the dreaded tear. They were now
stuck with the crazy, old inventor and his decaying Hovermutt and
worse!- he was now calling everything Galupid! Looking at them with
that private joke kind of bonding (“Hey kidlets! Look at that
galupid sunset!”) They were seriously doomed.

Their only consolation was Lian’s travel
pack. Truly it was one of the new wonders of the world. Of its most
beloved accoutrements the Fire Bombs totally rocked. All that was
necessary was pulling one out, striking it on something rough (i.e.
Skubblenob’s helmet) and dropping it, at which point a roaring
blaze would take over. It was the perfect antidote to the chilly,
wet nights that were lingering in the last days of spring.

During these restful sitting-by-the-fire
pit-stops, Skubblenob would make adjustments on his Tempometre. It
hadn’t really changed much aside from ‘The Detour’ when Skubblenob
had taken them west. They’d ended up at a wall. Literally. A big,
stone wall clumped in miles of Virginia Creeper. They blinked and
looked at Skubblenob unamusedly while Chesterly coughed up his
vital organs. Skubblenob lifted the remote higher and repeated
“HaloEm Quill” several times. He pointed it directly at the wall.
The remote went blue cold and it was not until he pointed it south
again that it returned to normal.

“South! Our Quill is south! Come Chesterly!”
he gently ribbed his Hover awake.

So, once again they were going south.

This time the Tempometre led them up along a
rough and much disliked mountain trail. Warmer and warmer the
remote seemed to be getting as they climbed the mountainside. Even
the Valadors began to wonder if perhaps the old man’s invention was
accurate after all. When they reached a secluded cave off the
trail, the remote was a soft orange color and warm enough for
Skubblenob to remove his mitts.

Chesterly looked like this was indeed it for
him. His tongue hung like meat, even collecting the occasional fly.
The intensity and interminable length of his hacking made everyone
nervous. Not just because of the horrendous sound it made but
because they were standing at the mouth of a cave, a notably large
cave. And no one had yet determined if it was unoccupied. Surely a
hacking, blind, half dead Hovermutt would be like pizza home
delivery to a cave dwelling carnivore.

Once Chesterly was finished…and passed
out…the Valadors set to inspect the property.

“I’ll go with you.” Skubblenob said.

“No!” all three of them cried out, far too
readily. They paused in the wake of the obvious rejection, certain
to hear the cracking of the old man’s heart.

Instead, his deafness clearly in tact, he
smiled “Galupid!” and plodded along ahead of them.

The Hovers (well the ones that were awake)
were not pleased about being left behind but were appeased by the
arrival of three chunky bones fresh from the travel pack’s
refrigeration pocket. Root and Dwyn smiled. Lian never ceased to
amaze them.

The team entered slowly, Dwyn resuming his
preference for the lead with Lian and Root clutching each other
behind him. Skubblenob tripped up the rear. The cave was dry and
dusty and seemed to be lit by soft glowing pinkish rocks all along
the walls. It was also very, very quiet.

“Here Quill, Quill, Quill…” Dwyn sang.

“Shshhshsh!” Root said. “What if there’s
something in here!”

“Well, isn’t that the best way to find
out?”

“He’s right.” Lian agreed “It’s best to be
loud so that you might scare a beast away.”

At that moment a roar detonated from farther
in the cave and came at them like a speeding train.

“Duck!”

They hit the dirt just as a wave of flying
bodies swooped and dove and tore out the mouth of the cave. In the
light they could see them- Swooping Worms. Thousands of them,
blasting toward the sky, temporarily eclipsing the sun.

The ensuing silence was broken by the
familiar warble of Ernest Skubblenob.

“You kidlets okay? A swarm of Swooping Worms
just tore out of the cave.”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Are you?”

“Well, I’ve got a bit of arthritis in my left
ankle and a small bout of hemorrhoids but aside from that I’m quite
fine.”

“Too much information.” Dwyn groaned as he
got to his feet.

The team went deeper into the cave where more
glowing pink rocks aided them with light. Lian, his curiosity
always getting the best of him ventured for a closer inspection. He
touched the surface of one of the pink rocks. It was hard as was
expected. He took a swipe with his finger and licked it. Kind of
salty. He lightly tapped and put his ear to the rock.

The rock tapped back.

Strange.

He tapped again. Another tap returned.

Uh oh.

“Guys.”

Before Lian could say anything else Ernest
Skubblenob came up from behind, wrapped his bony fingers around the
rock and yanked it from the wall.

“No!” Lian cried too late.

Skweeee?

Skweeeeeeeeeeeeee!

“What’s that?” Root said.

“I think it’s this rock.” Skubblenob said
shaking it up to his ear.

Lian snatched the rock away praying it had
gone unnoticed. “That’s no rock, you lunatic!” Panic crossed his
face. “It’s an egg!”

And then they heard it.

A piercing shriek that made the hair raise
and the heart completely freak out.

“What the…? What’s that?”

Lian quickly put the egg back. It
skwee’d
more urgently.

The shriek responded with terrifying
force.

“Lian! Isn’t that one of the sounds from your
recordings?” Root whispered nervously.

“Yes.” Lian said and felt himself sweating.
“And I’d say we’ve got about twenty seconds to get outta here
before the Quog gets here and tears us into shreds.”

They yanked Skubblenob away from the second
rock he was about to pull and ran.

The shrieks became deafening and this time
the eggs joined in, hundreds of them, skweeing and tapping. The
Valadors ran as fast as they could but the mouth of the cave seemed
to be worlds away. The Quog was gaining on them.

SKWEEEEE! TAP! TAP,TAP! SKWEEEEEEEEEE! Root’s
ears began to ache with the sound.

Skubblenob had no idea why he was being
carried along by his charges. And it didn’t really matter because
he tripped and fell and wasn’t being carried along anymore. The
team ran back for him and the travel pack that he’d managed to grab
on his descent. The same travel pack that was now tangled in his
feet. The same travel pack that was now spilling with supplies and
putting a quick end to any immediate escape.

“Skubblenob, let’s go!” Dwyn grabbed him
while Lian snatched the travel pack, reluctantly leaving much of
its precious contents behind.

The Quog arrived much sooner than expected.
And much fiercer. Its babies were now frenzied with cries. It faced
the team, a wispy, phantasmal creature with features sliding in and
out of focus, black eyes here, then gone, red eyes, then gone. A
mouthful of fangs, a fleshy green, split tongue. All pulsing in and
out from shapeless skin the color of blood. Old, dead blood. It
rose in the air to prepare for its first attack, an old man
scrambling away. Easy prey.

As the creature moved to strike it suddenly
scuffed something that burst into flames and sent it clambering
back in fear. It screeched at a pitch that nearly shattered the
brain. But it did not move.

“It’s a Fire Bomb! They fell from the Travel
bag!” Dwyn yelled. He found another and struck it. A new fire
blazed. The Quog inched back further.

Within moments the team was lighting every
Fire Bomb they could find and when enough were keeping the monster
at bay they ran for the light of the cave onto the expectant backs
of their Hovers. Even Chesterly had been awoken and was at the
ready.

The Quog’s shrieks seemed to tail them for
miles. It was a long time before someone said anything. Naturally,
it was Ernest Skubblenob who said “South! The HaloEm Quill is
south! Come, Chesterly!”

Broken heart or not, something had to be
done.

The team was gathering twigs and kindling.
And not enjoying it. The good thing was that, with the logs in
place at least Root and Dwyn knew how to start a fire magically
now. Owing to Lian who’d spent many evenings patiently (and
impatiently) teaching them Magic basics, especially the Elements.
Unfortunately Levitation didn’t fall under that category. “You need
to master the elements first before you can move on to stuff like
levitation. Even then, not everybody can do it. Not even I can do
the big things, yet.” Lian had said. This was made painfully clear
as their arms nearly gave out from the heavy hauling of logs double
their size.

All thanks to Skubblenob. Who was sleeping.
Conveniently.

“We’ve got to get rid of him!” Dwyn said
taking an axe to the wood.

“And how do you propose we do that without
killing the guy?” Root knew Dwyn was right but visions of
Skubblenob clutching his heart kept her from action.

“I don’t know. I’m just saying we gotta ditch
him or kiss this race goodbye.”

“Maybe we can leave him a nice letter saying
we’ve gone for groceries and would be back soon.” Lian suggested
sarcastically.

“Yeah right! Gone for groceries in the middle
of Swampville!” Root looked around in anger. Skubblenob had taken
them deeper and deeper into a sludgy mess of slimy trees and
scummy, green mud.

“The Swamps of Koik” according to Road who’d
been conspicuously unused so far. The landscape and sounds had
become so foreign even Lian couldn’t recognize half the
inhabitants, although he did label a very loud and ugly Wartlug, a
type of bald bird that seemed to yell at them for sport. When Dwyn
had thrown a stick at it, it merely caught it and threw seventeen
back.

Lian teepee’d their gathered wood while Root
and Dwyn fought over who would get the chance to light it. Root won
out by virtue of doing it before Dwyn noticed.

They sat on wet, spongy stumps that sunk
alarmingly deep into the muddied ground. Everything felt wet, damp
and smelled like stagnant old sewer water. Lian opened a pocket of
the travel bag and allowed a string of Globes to fly up into the
surrounding black branches. He tied the ends and at least enjoyment
was found in their twinkling yellow lights. Sleep was another thing
altogether. The best word to describe it would be non-existent.
Seriously, who can sleep in a swamp?

Besides Skubblenob.

And Chesterly.

Morning was a guess. The sky wouldn’t even
give hints. So, they rose when they rose and once again followed
Skubblenob’s flashing, vine infested helmet along the sloshing
muddy trail. Walking became necessary because the wilted black
branches were tangled so closely they were knocked off their Hovers
every few seconds.

To this Lian proudly distributed pairs of
Skim Sandals. These were welcome indeed, somehow managing to keep
everyone above the watery depths and skimming the surface like mini
boats.

Skubblenob’s remote had returned to a warm
orange tinge but this the team had agreed was never to be trusted
again.

That is until it suddenly shook violently and
became so hot Skubblenob had to drop it. When he recovered it, the
sleek platinum shell was red as a hot coal and vibrating in his
mitts.

“It’s here!” The old man yelped and thrust
the smoking thing forward, taking quick, deliberate steps in its
pointed direction.

The team looked at each other. Could it be?
They looked at Skubblenob. He was squealing in delight letting his
prized Tempometre lead him to a glorified fate. They looked at each
other again.

Dwyn was the first to run but Root and Lian
were hot on his heels. They raced after the inventor, hearts
pounding, once more putting their hopeful trust into his flickering
garbage can.

Slipping, sloshing, gooping along…falling,
hoping, even laughing, they followed Skubblenob as he led them atop
a mush of a pond straight into…

…a horror they couldn’t even grasp until it
was too late.

The Swamps of Koik.

Full blown, pin pricks down the spine, heart
collapsing creepy. It took a brave amount of observation before the
team realized they were not looking at wax sculptures but real live
(at one time at least) bodies forever entombed in the solidified
amber of trees. Thick, black, oozing Halloween trees. The same of
which had encased thick, oozing resin around animals and insects
and -Oh my goodness! - Hilly Punyun and the Pinks.