The Questory of Root Karbunkulus - Quill (21 page)

“My sister!” Lian yelled and swung again.
Missed again.

Dwyn’s eyes lit up. He looked at the image
again. “No way…Lian, you’ve been holding out on your good friend.
Your sister’s cute!”

“My sister is dead!”

Just like that. Boom.

Lian’s bomb froze Dwyn in his tracks.

My sister is dead. My sister is dead
.
Every wall captured his words and lobbed them back.
Dead…dead…dead
…ricocheted for escape until only a whisper
remained wandering a tunnel alone.

“Lian.” Root said once silence had returned.
“I’m so sorry. We…didn’t know.”

Lian sat down. After a time Dwyn sat beside
him. “Was it Kakos?”

“No.” Lian stared forward. He swallowed and
tried not to look at Root. “Tints.”

The word hung in the air, too heavy to
reverberate. Root could see it, black and ugly, the same black and
ugly that stamped itself across foreheads. And hearts. Neither she
nor Dwyn could wrap their heads around it. Tints had killed their
best friend’s sister.

Lian took a deep breath. It was time to come
clean. “They had attacked Vulcherk’s and Co. It was revenge after
he refused to serve them when they’d come for supplies. My sister,
Jadia was just walking past, along the boardwalk. She was coming to
pick me up from the Scholarly…but she never made it. She had walked
right into their fire line.” There was a long pause as Lian
reluctantly wandered into the memory. “I went looking and found
her…still alive. The Tints had used Galt seeds for bullets and all
she needed was Bloodfungus to stop the poison. But I hadn’t
discovered that yet. I…I didn’t know. And so the Bloodfungus sat on
the shelf in Vulcherk’s, merely ten paces away and…she died.”

Root wanted to cry but knew better. Lian
would hate that.

Around them, the heavy, rhythmic breathing of
their furry mates amplified the silence. Thankfully, Dwyn gifted a
distraction. “What’s with this camera, then?” He held it out.

Lian blinked back to the present and took the
Brotswin from Dwyn. He turned it over in his hand. “I’m not sure.
But it seems to capture images of a person’s past instead of the
present.”

“When the Sage Mother gave it to me, she said
it was for memories. I assumed she meant to y’know make new
memories. Do you think she meant past?” Root leaned into her
thought. “Wait, she’d given it to me right after I learned about
my…Let me see that!” She snatched the Brotswin and peered into the
screen. There it was. Hazy yes but now unmistakable. Long black
hair with a streak of silver. “It’s my mum!”

‘Your mum? Are you sure?”

“Yes! I’m positive!” She handed the Brotswin
back to Lian.

“So, it must capture our old memories!” Lian
looked again and pressed the engager button. The blurred black hair
of Root’s mum shifted, returning to the faces of his sister and
parents. Happier times. His father’s arm was actually around his
mother. And Jadia’s hair was shoulder length. She’d be about
fourteen, making Lian five. This was just before the…incident. Lian
depressed his finger. Another image. Jadia on dad’s back. Mum
smiling in the background. Lian couldn’t pull his eyes away. The
Brotswin had captured the full essence of the memory. The music in
the background, the smell of baking Dewberry Cobbler, the laughter,
the love, the family. It was as if the image was alive and all he
had to do was find the secret entrance in. Lian felt his throat
tighten. In his veins was a pulse of foreboding but he couldn’t put
the Brotswin down. Another image. Dinner. Jadia making a face, the
same one he’d made for Root. Dad’s famous roast potatoes…

Root ached for her Brotswin back. She too had
noticed the feelings it had conjured. Feelings she’d hung in a
closet for so long they’d been forgotten. Her mother was in there
somewhere, on a hanger. The Brotswin may have blurred her face, but
her spirit wafted out to Root as tactile as mist. And now it was
soaking into her skin. She wanted to spend all the rest of her
hours locked inside the Brotswin, basking. But Lian was so
vulnerable. She gave him more time.

The boulder flickered. The flare of its light
was growing smaller. The cave was getting dim.

“We better get going” Dwyn said at last.
“We’ll only have a few hours of light left.”

When Lian didn’t budge, Dwyn took it upon
himself to pack up. Root helped, though with a constant longing as
if the moment Lian was done, she would scoop the Brotswin up like a
long lost…well, mother.

It was only when Lian was needed to undo the
Door Restore that he pulled himself away. Regretfully, for Root
then had the Brotswin stowed away in a pocket…awaiting her eyes
only.

The rat arrived with six of his rat friends
and one mole. He was explaining the disappearance of his door, as
he had been explaining since he first roused them from sleep, and
hadn’t noticed that they were now standing at the very cave opening
he’d said had vanished. They stared at him like he’d gone mad. They
shook their heads. They tsked. And then they sniffed. Could it be?
Another seven sniffs straight into the back of the cave. Yes! Yes!
It was! Ratty, old boy, you’ve been holding out on us!

Let the feasting begin!

Root caught Dwyn staring at her as she
hunched over the Brotswin. She tried to ignore him but his eyes
were keen and penetrating. Finally she looked up. “Would…you…would
you like to use it?” she said while cradling it with anything but
generosity.

“Nope.” he said.

“ You wouldn’t?”

“Nope”

“But you could see your mother or your
father. Your family.”

“So.”

“So, don’t you want to even look?”

“I have my family.”

“Not your real family.”

“Staring at old blurry pictures is not a real
family either, Root.”

She cringed. Then held tighter. What did he
know? She peered back into the screen. True the pictures had not
improved but little bits here and there spawned relief. And more
questions. Like, why had Lian’s images been so clear? Probably
because he’d grown up with his family whereas Root had had, from
what she could gather a measly few months with hers. Maybe this was
why the images were blurry. Maybe she hadn’t developed her sight
fully yet. Or maybe it was because it was just so long ago and the
image had faded along with her memory. She looked again. There was
someone else in the picture. The hair seemed short and brownish…or
was that…pumpkin? A flood of warmth filled her. Was this her
father?

There had been men in the Sage Mother’s
painting, fleeing and wailing just as her mother had. Surely one
was her father. Root’s stomach squeezed. She wished she had looked
for him in the painting. But what good would that have been?

She had to just let it go. Her parents were
dead. She’d always known this.

Fine. Yes. They were dead. But…but who had
they been? And how had they lived?

“There’s a spot over there” Lian said,
breaking her thoughts “where we can camp.”

The Valadors landed, CPR all too happy to
dismount. Lian was cleaned and ready for the night faster than
they’d ever seen and was at Root’s side.

“May I look at it again?” he asked. Root
looked around. Surely there was something else he could do. But
there wasn’t. And she still had to unpack and settle the Hovers.
She grasped for excuses but there were none to be had. With a heavy
hand she passed the Brotswin to Lian and watched jealously as he
sat by the fire, his face practically melted into the screen.

Supper was a sorry attempt. Berries can only
do so much before the stomach says ‘joke’s over’ and demands a
serious meal. Dwyn thought about Molding but wasn’t sure what to
Mold in to. The forest had gradually changed and become unfamiliar,
its inhabitants with it. For all he knew a bear would be easy prey
now. The giant footprint he’d found nearby pretty much affirmed
this.

Lian was no help, his nose stuck in that
stupid camera. When Dwyn asked him for suggestions Lian just
grunted and pointed to a compartment in the travel pack. The
library pocket.

Dwyn and Root flipped through pages of a book
called “Know Your Bellatonian Forest Beasts”, having decided from
the cover photo that this forest applied to the Bellatonian
description. No thanks to Lian.

There were a few Molding options, a Skywag
for instance. It seemed to be pretty adept in the survival
department, quick and agile, having few enemies due to its ability
to petrify. But when they realized it lived on a diet primarily of
berries, well ‘nuff said. They turned the page. A Blue-Footed Brixy
might work. Oh, but this was its mating season. A shiver went
through Dwyn as he imagined being wooed by…no, he wouldn’t go
there.

They flipped some more before Dwyn stopped at
a page that showed the same giant footprint that he’d seen only a
few paces away. Root read aloud. “The Jankal is perhaps the largest
of the Bellatonian species, standing the height of the very trees
that camouflage it.”

They gulped. At that very moment, the air
seemed to suck out of the forest.

Trees that camouflaged it?

Root and Dwyn began to scan the huge trunks
that surrounded them. Root swore that if she saw a giant eye
peering from one she would die on the spot.

“Lian.” Dwyn said, rising very slowly.

Lian didn’t even hear him.

“Lian.” Root added. “I think it’s time to
go.”

Not even a grunt from their friend. He was no
better than a stump to them.

“Lian!” Root screamed. She couldn’t help
herself. It was
her
Brotswin!

“Hmmm?” Lian looked up, his eyes miles and
miles away from common sense.

“We gotta go.” Dwyn said.

“Why?”

“We think there may be a…” he referred to the
book. “…a Jankal nearby.”

“Well, if there is, you won’t see it. They’re
scared of just about everything. Probably shaking in the trees
watching us.”

Dwyn grabbed the book and read. Sure enough,
Jankals, despite their size are amongst the most harmless of
DréAmm’s beasts. If they perceive danger they will…

The trees beside Root suddenly erupted. She
screamed. Something shot out from the forest, taking to the sky
like a rocket. They all looked up. What in the world….?

The Jankal had obviously perceived danger.
Its legs had acted as springs. The rest of it was like a tree
trunk, all brown and green, exactly like the Bellatonian cedars
that surrounded them. Maybe even taller. It continued upward until
cresting just below the clouds and arching back toward the ground.
They watched it prepare its legs for landing. Then it was gone.
Landed in another part of the Bellatonian forest, sighing in
relief.

“Know Your Bellatonian Forest Beasts” was
returned to the library pocket. Dwyn had decided he’d rather
starve.

The fire was nearly spent. Lian hadn’t moved.
Root was scowling. “I’d like my Brotswin back now, Lian.”

“Hmmm? Just one more minute?” Lian
begged.

“You said that last time!”

“Just one more. I promise. Only one.”

Root grit her teeth. After the second minute,
when he was pressing for a third, she yanked the Brotswin from
him.

And the fight began.

It was Dwyn who finally broke it up.

“Cut it out! Both of you! Geez, you guys.
You’re acting like strung out mental cases! They’re pictures for
crying out loud! I can understand the draw…sort of …but look at
you. You’re turning into obsessive freaks! Sorry to say but you
can’t bring these happy memories back so just…move on…In case
you’ve forgotten we’ve been off course for a long time. For all we
know three Quills have been found already! I think it’s time to get
back on track!”

He was right. They let him put the Brotswin
in a secret hiding place. They had no choice really; he’d snatched
it before they could react and even together they were no match for
Dwyn.

He hid it and that was that. After awhile, a
rather long while, they actually felt the soothing of relief.
Enough to sleep easy and heavy under the starry Bellatonian
sky.

Though the heat did not ease up over the next
few days, a brook had decided to journey with them, keeping them
quenched and refreshed. It was only on their final days in the
forest when it finally tapered and dried up.

Along with their last remnants of food.

Lian cheered them somewhat with a guesstimate
of arrival…one more day. But this was chased with the dismal
reminder that they could end up in a worse heat. The Twal Deserts
were a “blistering trap for death” according to
The Top Ten
Geographical Dangers of DréAmm
, of which Dwyn had taken to
reading. It didn’t help that the Swamps of Koik were a trifling
number nine compared to the deserts’ number five danger status. The
number one danger was a place called Hordrid, which few could
describe. Being that they never made it back to do so.

If Lian was right and this was their last
night in the forest, it would not be taken advantage of. Once the
sun dipped the air fell cool, rousing their skin back to life and
lending enough energy to find a resting site. Too weak to set up
beds or bear the weight of their hunger they collapsed into the
forest’s springy moss and were sleeping before a fire was even
considered. All the favors of the forest that had seen them this
far they took into their dreams. Even the days and days of berries
were given grateful acknowledgment, knowing they may not experience
such luxury the next night.

They, in fact slept so well, they took no
notice of the sneaking steps of the intruder. He managed to slip
right past the sacked-out Hovermutts, toward what little supplies
the Valadors had left. His hand rummaged along the shadowy
belongings and came to rest upon a leather pocket. It fumbled with
the straps and then with a careful heave pulled out its
findings.