tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62700792261818835362024-02-20T20:27:39.464-08:00Creating Stuff Because.Mitch Akhurst's Slightly Mad Blog.Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.comBlogger72125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-86970261102698947232013-06-06T08:03:00.001-07:002013-06-06T08:03:49.440-07:00Redirect to New Blog -- Schedule Phase 1<a href="http://polygonnative.blogspot.com.au/2013/06/tentative-schedule-phase-one.html">http://polygonnative.blogspot.com.au/2013/06/tentative-schedule-phase-one.html</a>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-14725879155718793282013-03-02T21:08:00.001-08:002013-03-02T21:09:47.037-08:00One Day, The Return...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-WcT6FLxaCB12XuaDefeus1i6k314BNfXyNeNNKTMxL7vPQ6ldH_VLFVLFt3tRex8o6A9Ep_f5mX99erXVdKWqx-Kwpi1pXeQRhwxrw94b6_RjrjeU-Au4_BTAs50QgwIJwtt3XJaFoYa/s1600/20130303_160335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-WcT6FLxaCB12XuaDefeus1i6k314BNfXyNeNNKTMxL7vPQ6ldH_VLFVLFt3tRex8o6A9Ep_f5mX99erXVdKWqx-Kwpi1pXeQRhwxrw94b6_RjrjeU-Au4_BTAs50QgwIJwtt3XJaFoYa/s320/20130303_160335.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-79292703947724316442012-12-22T18:39:00.002-08:002012-12-22T18:39:40.001-08:00Skyfall NotesSkyfall...<br />
Hmm...<br />
Skyfall...<br />
<br />
It was an interesting film to behold, that's for certain.<br />
<br />
Hmm, Skyfall...<br />
<br />
Alright, enough with the delay, here are a few thoughts on the latest James Bond flick.<br />
<ul>
<li>They really turned the intensity up for Daniel Craig's Bond. Emotionally and physically, we've seen this man being put through the wringer over and over, but this time it's <i>almost </i>like it's starting to take its toll. This weariness, as well as his well drawn relationship with Judi Dench's M, actually makes Skyfall seem more like an "end times" James Bond, like he's been working for much longer than three movies. Compounding this is the side-plot diversion questioning the necessity of spy organisations in the modern world. None of this has to be bad or good, it is all intriguing, but somewhat unusual for a series that traditionally sticks to formula.</li>
<li>Absolutely beautiful visuals in this film -- though not so much a surprise since the cinematographer is Roger Deakins, known for his work with the Coen Brothers, as well as being a visual consultant on other beautiful movies such as <i>How To Train Your Dragon</i>, <i>WALL-E</i> and <i>Rango</i> -- so much so, in fact, that I think it beats out <i>The Dark Knight Rises</i> for the best looking movie of the year.</li>
<li>Speaking of Batman, this Bond movie has more than a few shades of superheroics throughout, in the more recent comic-book sense rather than the over the top goofiness of pre-Craig Bonds. The action scenes are brutal but still hyper-real. Bond gets shot, dropped from great heights and tossed around into various varieties of hard surface yet still gets back up for more. Combined with the weariness suggested in the emotional breadth of this movie, we get a good mix of believability and sheer crazy.</li>
<li>We already know that Craig will be back, so the question after <i>Skyfall</i> is whether such a movie can be topped. This deft balancing of outlandishness with the gritty modern action movie seems to me just about as far as Bond can go. <i>Casino Royale</i> was attempting to use <i>Bourne</i> as a new template, <i>Skyfall </i>finally marries the two in an almost seamless effort -- what exactly comes next? Short of rebooting the series as a period piece set in the Cold War once again (which I would get behind a lot faster than I should admit), any further development will probably take Bond further from its original style.</li>
<li>On the other hand, I am willing to eat these concerns if <i>Bond 24</i> can be as eminently watchable and exciting as <i>Skyfall </i>was.</li>
</ul>
Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-3333788931241817322012-06-23T06:00:00.000-07:002012-06-23T06:58:53.407-07:00On Pixar's "Brave"<div style="text-align: justify;">
Not a review, just some thoughts. Also, COMPLETE and UTTER SPOILERS for the movie. You have been warned.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>The Very Good (believe me, it's still a very good movie)</b></div>
<br />
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Visuals: wait a minute. The next Pixar movie is a fairytale? Set in mythical Scotland?! This is all kinds of awesome. A feast for the eyes, like it should be. Immaculately detailed, dripping with atmosphere, the world of<i> Brave</i> is an incredible place to spend an hour and a half. Oh, and the characters look great too - in fact, the contrast between highly detailed nature and cartoonish characters sometimes evokes that old hand-drawn feel; painterly backdrops combined with simple, fluid drawings. Nice.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">The Opening Short: it might seem a bit twee if you think about it too much but<i> </i>in my opinion <i>La Luna</i> was beautiful in its own way. The characters are subtle and funny, there's a "sweet dreams" kind of a twist, this was a great way to open. </li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">The Music: big thanks to Patrick Doyle. As opposed to <i>How To Train Your Dragon </i>in 2010, this is a flick that deserves Scottish music <i>because it is actually set in Scotland.</i> And it is just as good here, if not better. There may not be as many memorable themes, but without Mr Doyle's score, the ambience would only make it half way.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">The Flashes of Brilliance: a few scenes in <i>Brave </i>stand high above the rest, including the dramatic argument between Merida, Elinor and a harmless tapestry. Another of these is where we meet the best part of the story:</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">The Witc- the Woodcarver: wow. Animators and Julie Walters, you spoiled us. The wisps that led Merida to the cottage, the magic-potion answering machine, her insistent terminology and rapid-fire delivery - everything about this dark character was fantastic. It didn't hurt that she looked right out of a Studio Ghibli movie (see Captain Dola, Grandma Sophie). There even seemed to be a nod towards <i>Howl's Moving Castle</i> with the cottage door leading to two different places. There's only one downside to the witc- sorry, woodcarver's part in the story, and that is that there wasn't enough! I'm sitting here rambling about <i>Brave</i> and all I'm thinking about is I want a buddy movie with the woodcarver and her crow. But of course, an entire story with this character would defeat the purpose. She's a one-scene wonder in this film, all it needs is a little more... wrapping up.</li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>The Kinda Bad</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<ul>
<li>Mending a torn rift blah-blah: okay so this was going to be a pun about ripping up the movie and repairing the bonds etcetera, but I can't remember the witch's riddle that I was referencing. Point is, there are parts of the story that feel like the script started out a lot longer and they had to cut it down to fit into Pixar's almost traditional 90-100 minute runtime. Here's a few examples:</li>
<ul>
<li>The King and the other clans: there were several short scenes that tried to develop these characters as a counterpoint to the more tight-knit struggles of Merida and the Queen. However, we don't see much more than clichéd posturing. Woohoo, the King's funny, right, because he's a bad public speaker? Yeah, that Dingwall guy is short, so he's got a temper, you know? There could be a war, because all these guys are different, they don't get along... sigh. No connection can be made to these characters apart from the comedy angle.</li>
<li>Mor'du: the "villain" of the piece, a demonic bear created from a jealous son. Perhaps as a result of the King and practically every other character besides the two central ones being sidelined, Mor'du doesn't feel particularly affecting either. He and Merida use the same spell but beyond that he's not really in the movie at all. He provides a plot reason for the King to hate bears, he embodies Merida's rebellion against tradition, but it's all so slight and disconnected. Maybe if more had been done to tell his tale his, for want of a better word, "absolution" at the end wouldn't have seemed so out of place and pointless. Here's a cliché that no one would have faulted them for: have the Queen telling Merida his story not during an argument, but during her childhood at the beginning of the film, before getting her birthday bow. Then Merida could have questioned why tradition was so important, giving the Queen a reason for the chessboard demonstration. But a bigger elephant in the room: in a movie that's about a mother-daughter relationship, why is the cautionary tale about a typical jealous son in the first place? Surely this is the antagonist of the King's story, not of Merida's (whose antagonist is more likely the witch or herself).</li>
<li>Landscape: for a story set in an ancient and rugged country filled to the brim with mystery and adventure, <i>Brave</i>'s physical world feels limited. I don't know if this is something that began with the script or was enforced by editing, but the apparent scope is that of a castle, a nearby forest and some rocks on the other side. Without a sense of scale, scenes of Merida riding her horse through the woods are just more chances to ogle the fantastic scenery. This is a similar issue to what <i>Tangled</i> suffered over a year ago - short on story plus short on scope just makes the movie feel small.</li>
<li>The ending: again, this is tied in with the other points but the ending is where it stings the most. Not only does the wisp image of the jealous son seem a bit pointless (would it have lost anything if we just didn't see him?) but there is little to no focus on the big changes going on around Merida and Elinor. The reconciliation of the clans, the "marry-who-you-like" agreement, these are things that should have stood in reflection to the personal reconciliation between mother and daughter. Instead they're glanced over as they sail away, hopefully into a slightly longer, better paced Pixar fairytale. Finally, could it really have hurt to show us a few more seconds of the witch and her crow?</li>
</ul>
<li>Emotional Journey: this is possibly the hardest of the bad points to articulate, but here I go. Much has been made about how this is the first Pixar movie with a female protagonist, and I say you can't fault their good intentions. As clever and ground-breaking as the previous Pixar movies have been, with few exceptions they've stayed within the spectrum of boy's own adventure and male relationships - father and son, surrogate fathers and son, surrogate grandfather and son, you get the picture. In that case, it's nice to see them branch out in <i>Brave</i>. However, the trademark emotional resonance that Pixar is known for doesn't seem to make it in. Apart from the above-mentioned argument scene and their eventual reconciliation, Merida and Elinor's relationship is downplayed to make room for slapstick antics. Let's not forget as well, the unwanted implications that all of their problems are solved when the mother is rendered unable to speak to either her daughter or her husband by being turned into a bear. If the message is that they should listen to one another, it's a rather one-sided victory. Compare this to <i>Finding Nemo</i>, where father and son together realise how much they need each other after complete separation for most of the movie.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div>
<b>The "Uh-oh"</b></div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>This is the big one. <i>Brave</i> is a very good (if cut-down) film, but it's the first Pixar film that disappointed me. The reason that <i>Brave</i> is so disappointing is that, until now, the creative team at Pixar have been able to deftly mix humour, love, a touch of fear, and of course, great visuals into a cohesive whole (with the possible exception of the just-for-fun <i>Cars</i> series). <i>Brave</i> is not one of those - its story is good but unoriginal, the slapstick seems to take precedent over the drama, and the scary scenes are <i>very scary</i> with little relief. Any one of these problems could be blended into a good movie on its own and come out great: a simple family adventure, an animated comedy or a darker, more mature story respectively. Having them all in the one movie though feels a bit disjointed.</li>
<li>For these reasons, it is worthwhile hoping that <i>Brave</i> is simply a slump and not a sign for the future: because if it is, even though it is not a <i>bad</i> film... uh-oh.</li>
</ul>
</div>
</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-33882119319688623332012-06-19T22:26:00.003-07:002012-06-19T22:26:45.918-07:00June News<div style="font-family: inherit;">
1. Still ploddin' along on "The Puppetheads", Volume I incoming soon</div>
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<![endif]-->2. Che<span style="font-size: small;">ck this out, I've decided to enter "Write-a-Book-in-a-Day" with the Canberra Speculative Fiction Guild. Details on how to support us (<span style="line-height: 115%;">raising
money for Paediatrics at Canberra Hospital) and the other brave entrants are <a href="http://csfg.wordpress.com/2012/06/12/csfg-team-for-write-a-book-in-a-day/">here.</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">3. Having multiple different issues with the interactive project, mostly on the level of interactivity. It's still a ways off.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">4. Working on some other stuff for this blog including some reviews. Stay tuned :) </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-81048745744179552382012-05-13T07:33:00.004-07:002012-05-13T07:33:46.501-07:00Entertainment Minis<div style="text-align: justify;">
As I'm sure everyone knows, procrastination can come in many forms. These are some quick thoughts on the recent forms I've been using when I wasn't writing this weekend.</div>
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<b>Watching: Game of Thrones Season 2 (Rated R)</b></div>
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The first season of Game of Thrones, based on the book "A Game of Thrones" by George R. R. Martin, was some of the best television in any genre in the past years. Brutal and (mostly) mature, it was a different kind of epic fantasy centred around characters and politics that were as elegant as they were covered in literal and metaphorical grime.</div>
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Very briefly, Game of Thrones is an epic-fantasy/mystery series set on the continent of Westeros in the wake of a rebellion against the Mad King, Aerys Targaryen. With the help of "Warden of the North" Ned Stark, Robert Baratheon was crowned as the new king after Aerys was slain. As the Baratheons are only one of several powerful houses on Westeros, including the Starks from the North and the very rich, very determined Lannisters in Casterly Rock, Robert is surrounded by enemies who would have the throne for themselves.</div>
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If there was much to be said against the first season at all, it was that the first half was stylistically different to the second half - more specifically, it was good for all ten episodes, but the last few episodes were so good that they make the other good episodes seem less strong by comparison. Also, parts of the show are sometimes sidetracked by the same pretensions to "maturity" that have plagued fantasy fiction for decades: overly stylised sex scenes and anachronistic profanity. Hey guys, maturity is more than that...</div>
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Anyway, I'm happy to say that if the first two episodes of Season 2 are any indication, the quality of this show is not diminishing. There were no long, out of place sex scenes (those that are there seem to be better edited), and the tense pace set up by the outstanding episodes 9 and 10 of Season 1 isn't showing any signs of slowing, despite the introduction of several new characters.</div>
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Over all, I'm looking forward to seeing how this series progresses, as there has never been anything like it before.</div>
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<b>Reading: Fables (Mature Readers)</b></div>
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Not much to say about this fantastic comic book series other than "read it!". A long-running and award winning series about the characters from fairy tales, known as "Fables", who ran from their homelands to escape a mysterious enemy. They settled in New York of all places, and the series touches on multiple genres while deftly building a detailed, intriguing world around familiar characters such as the Big Bad Wolf, Snow White and Prince Charming. This series is also very good at going places you don't expect, especially since nearly all the characters are in the public domain.</div>
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<b>Playing: Alan Wake (Rated M)</b></div>
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I will also refrain from going into much detail about this game as I would like to write a longer piece about it once I have finished the DLC. Suffice it to say for now that this is a very interesting experience, different and familiar all at once with some very motivated people behind it.</div>
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As a self-referential thriller about a writer who gets trapped within a story of his own making, some parts in this game "click" better than others. The B-movie tone is inconsistent, wavering between well-presented emotional storytelling and goofy thrills. The action is well executed with some clever twists on gun-combat, but is also a bit repetitive and unadventurous. The graphics are very detailed and the lighting is some of the best seen in a game, but the animations are creepy-awkward (not on the monsters, on the people we're supposed to relate to).</div>
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So although at the moment it sounds like a mixed bag, Alan Wake's successes outweigh its failings. More to come later!</div>
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P.S. Question for readers: Does anyone agree/disagree that, though they are very different shows, the new Battlestar Galactica surely paved some of the way for Game of Thrones as a dark, heavily serialised television series?</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-18430754112315745602011-09-17T05:40:00.000-07:002011-09-17T05:40:24.853-07:00The Puppethead War #14: Spanners (Part 2)<div style="text-align: justify;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/09/puppethead-war-13-spanners-part-1.html">< < Issue 13</a></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The inside of the sequestered Freak church practically groaned with age. To the two teen-aged visitors, it felt like it was older than the world. Unfortunately, the long years had not been as kind to this building as they were to the Mucatedra over the high barrier. The inner hall was lined with buffed but clearly deteriorating pews. Scaffolding on the right hand side went unnoticed by the few congregation members still milling around.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">At the front, under a plain window through which the morning sun shone was a crucifix. Less than half of Talon’s height, the dilapidated woodwork was surprisingly fitting. A plainly dressed man approached them from a bare-bones lectern that headed the rows of pews.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I shouldn’t feel the need to apologise for the state of this building,’ he said, a warm half-smile growing on his face. ‘I’m Father Adiestre. Pleasure to see some new faces around here.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Talon and Leyh shook hands with Father Adiestre and he waved to them to sit down. The trader appeared amused and Talon felt awkward. The last time he had spoken to a preacher was... it was very long ago, if he didn’t count the Honch.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I guess we’d like to ask about...’ the youth said. He looked at Leyh and she nodded. Not very helpful. ‘I’ve got a friend, an acquaintance really, he told me he was a Keeper. And, well, my family have always been Freaks.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Aha,’ Adiestre said. ‘I sense you aren’t very comfortable, um -?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Talon,’ the youth said. ‘And this is Leyh.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Well, Talon, would it help if I put this on?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The man seemed to produce a large hat out of nowhere. It looked somewhat like a grey and white variation on that of the Keepers. He placed it lopsided on his head and opened his eyes wide. Talon had to fight down a laugh.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I don’t use it that often but it’s still part of the tradition,’ said Adiestre. Leyh huffed loudly and covered her mouth, looking bashful.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Besides breaking the ice,’ the preacher said, placing the hat on his knees, ‘what I like to do is show people how similar we are.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Huh?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Adiestre stood up and gestured widely. ‘When it comes down to it, Freaks and the Kept Sect share the same faith. Religion is somewhat more complex...’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Reflexively, Leyh and Talon looked past him at the otherworldly symbol.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘The Keepers may have a lot more dogma when it comes to the Quandomen,’ Adiestre continued, ‘but that’s just the dressings, like the shape of a church.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Talon raised a hand, feeling a bit foolish for doing so. ‘Dogma?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The preacher realised that he hadn't properly explained himself. ‘Think of it this way: the Pharaohs, Nebuchadnezzar, Caesar, Napoleon, Adolf Hitler, Macer Argtyde... countless more diasporas, wars and struggles – when the Quandomen came, it followed the same pattern. They were a test.’ </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Father Adiestre paused and Talon tried to place the ancient names, realising that he didn’t know half of them. The preacher sat back down. ‘Now we’ve made a pretty easy life for ourselves out here, over the centuries. We’ve even made contact with the tirans and the guernas. But the Keepers fear and revere the Quandomen as the hand of God. Freaks simply accept that everything happens for a reason.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Okay,’ Leyh spoke up. ‘So whether we concern ourselves with the past or not, the Keepers would be concerned if the Quandomen were going to return?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">At the back the church, half a dozen parishioners had started to file in.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Oh yes,’ the preacher suddenly became very serious. ‘If that were to happen, a lot of people would find their lives getting much more interesting. If the Keepers’ signs have any factual basis, we’d also have to find ‘the brothers’ just to stop another exile.’ Adiestre brightened slightly. ‘But there’s no reason to be afraid. After all, what’s the end of the world?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Before Talon could ask what the preacher meant, there was a thumping noise behind them.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Excuse me,’ a voice said. ‘Excuse me, I’m looking for –’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The southerner they had met at the Overarchy dome forced her way to the front of the aisle, appearing very flustered. Her hair had bounced up into a bushy tangle.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Nairé?’ Leyh said. She and Talon approached. ‘What’s the matter?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The woman stood straight and brushed back an errant strand of hair.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I need your help. Irena’s missing.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Father Adiestre showed the group into the building’s woefully meagre kitchen while a layperson began the day’s reading.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Take a seat,’ he said to Nairé. ‘One step at a time.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">They all gathered around the table while the preacher started to pour hot water into a stout pot. Ogard appeared at the kitchen's entrance, crouched under the doorway and looked about nervously. Talon was happy to see him.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Don’t worry, I knew you were here, trader,’ said Adiestre. ‘There’s tea enough for everyone.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Leyh nodded at the big man. ‘Oge isn’t accustomed to speaking with preachers.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Talon resisted the urge to point out that he hadn't heard Ogard speak at all since they had met. ‘What happened?’ he asked Nairé.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Oh, I don’t know, I don’t know...’ she said pitifully. ‘I mean, I guess she got the idea when we were talking about bad dreams.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The only noise was that of Ogard trying to fit onto one of the kitchen’s stools.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Don’t just sit around,’ Nairé said. An involuntary shiver ran through the woman’s body. ‘She was having nightmares about lake monsters, so I told her about the old country, how I ran away from home...’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘This can’t be a coincidence,’ said Talon. He was suddenly very aware of Father Adiestre’s presence, as the man brought over a tray with the cups of tea. He thought about Ferran’s warning - anyone could be an agent of the puppetheads. Then again, could a puppethead lead a congregation, however small, and still be convincing?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘This wouldn’t have to do with your Keeper friend, would it?’ the preacher asked. He sat down between Talon and the traders. The youth could see that Ogard was actively avoiding Father Adiestre’s eyes while Nairé continued.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘She overheard the Captain speaking with one of his men after the expedition. I don’t know about the Keepers, but Irena said that the Captain was her grandfather.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘If you don’t mind me asking,’ Adiestre said, ‘who is Irena?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘She’s the daughter of Lord de Postrem’s nephew,’ Nairé said. ‘I couldn’t just lock her up, besides, I think I was curious too.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Wait, wait wait wait, wait.’ Leyh put both hands flat on the table. ‘Back up a bit. What expedition? And is it really our problem who the girl is related to?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nairé took a long sip of the tea and looked at the trader. ‘Lord de Postrem and the Captain were looking for Quandu artifacts in the south. With me on their team, they got lucky.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘How?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘We found a cache. It was filled to the brim with plunder and devices.’ The woman sighed. ‘But it doesn’t make any difference now.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Father Adiestre was by far the most taken aback by the strange discussion, but he recovered enough to put on a happy face. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure that Talon and Leyh will help you find Miss Irena.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You bet we will,’ Talon said. ‘We owe you, after you spoke to Captain Gelba for us. We just have to go next door to get Ferran and the Honch.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Now it was Nairé’s turn to avoid the others’ eyes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Og- og- Ogard and I,’ she said. ‘After I found him, we went straight to the Mucatedra.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The big man nodded in affirmation, a stern expression on his face.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I’m sorry Talon, but your friends have already left for Yerz. They said that there was an altercation and they set off immediately.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘What do you mean, altercation? Are they alright?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘The man who addressed us, or at least, I think he was a man behind the mask – he said that there had been an attack of some kind. They fought it off and left as fast as they could.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Dammit,’ Talon muttered. ‘I knew we were having it too easy. Did they say if they were Dirty Fighters?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘We weren’t told,’ Nairé said. ‘The Keepers were anxious to start the service and Ogard suggested we come here.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Father Adiestre stood up and gathered the empty cups.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I can see that this is going to get complicated,’ he said. ‘I’ll be praying for you and Miss Irena that this horrible business is over soon. As for today,’ he winked at Talon, ‘we’ll have to take a rain check.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The preacher left to deliver the sermon and the other four headed out the back door.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘So where do we start looking?’ Talon said as they walked the main boulevard back to the bridge.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Last night she went up to the Captain’s private study,’ said Nairé. ‘I’m going to have to tell him that. Hopefully he’ll know why she’d want to run away.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Sounds tricky,’ Leyh said. ‘Especially if none of us are supposed to know he’s her grandfather.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Talon didn’t add anything, but the corners of his lips turned up slightly. The day had just become very interesting.</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-58846595364487416882011-09-03T15:00:00.000-07:002011-09-17T05:41:06.952-07:00The Puppethead War #13: Spanners (Part 1)<i></i><br />
<i></i><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/08/puppethead-war-12-one-untangle-two.html">< < Issue 12</a></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: right;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/09/puppethead-war-14-spanners-part-2.html">Issue 14 > ></a> </i></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Sincerest others,</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>I am writing to inform you that a series of disturbing events have occurred in my home village, Yerz. A hostile force known to us as "the puppetheads" recently attempted to infiltrate our society from their home deep under the lake. The puppetheads can swap their own minds with those of any human they touch, making them very difficult to detect. Ferran, a friend of mine who was subject to this mind swapping process, would have been trapped were it not for yours truly and a pair of young troublemakers called Talon and Daiv.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>I intend on travelling with Ferran and Talon to the capital, to inform the Overarchy of the dangers that these puppetheads pose. However, I cannot be sure that anyone else is trustworthy. Therefore, I also invoke the right granted me to call a meeting of all available Keepers. As you are aware, the first sign of the Quandomen's return is when a man is not himself.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>We will leave with a pair of traders, Ogard and Leyh, later this week, and hopefully arrive in Carpol late on Saturday. Until then, stay vigilant.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Keeper in Yerz.</i></div><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Last time on <i>The Puppethead War</i>, the puppetheads hit a snag when Payke, the agent whose original body was ruthlessly killed by Commander Darrin Sasket, chose to turn against his colleagues. This week we find him running for his life after a disaster at the village.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Meanwhile, in the city of Carpol, the travellers from Yerz have made a significant step toward repelling the invaders. By allying with Rudimar Gelba, current steward of the recently reinstated House de Postrem, they hope to bring their news before the entire Overarchy. Additionally, an ancient group called the Kept Sect have been engaged by Verden, the owner of Yerz and secretly a Keeper himself. Despite these successes, Ogard's carriage was assaulted the same afternoon by hired warriors, prompting the travellers to change lodgings and keep vigilant in case of further attacks.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>***</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>SATURDAY</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Payke bashed his hand on a boulder and ducked a pine branch, maintaining considerable forward momentum through the twisted trees. Little puddles were growing along the hillside as the rain hit. Mud built up on his shoes and still the puppethead agent didn’t falter - even the constant slippery roots failed to trip him as long as he kept moving.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The darkening evening was making it difficult to see the way through the woods. Finally, Payke leapt from a rocky outcrop and misjudged the distance. He tumbled to the hard ground below, almost not hearing the hack of a laugh behind him. The second runner was obviously better than the puppethead agent and landed with a soft thud to his right. Payke stood to examine his forearms. The skin was ripped up from the fall.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'That went well,’ Tean said.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Payke sucked down more air and frowned. ‘Shut. It.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Above them, a crunch prompted the two escapees to turn. A montiger rider guided his mount down to them. In his left hand were the reins of two others, animals which clearly wanted to be elsewhere.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Care to tell us what just happened?’ Tean asked.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Another figure was behind the rider of the first beast, slumped and only barely hanging on.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Yoh,’ his brother said. ‘It should’ve been me out there. This was a huge mistake.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The figure behind Daiv sat up and spoke as resolutely as he could manage. ‘I’ll live.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You saw what the Commander had, along with the breathing pack?’ Payke said.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Daiv dismounted carefully. ‘I don’t know what it was. I was more concerned with keeping the others away.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Well they shouldn’t have returned with you!’ Tean shouted. ‘If they’d stayed with the treehouse -’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Quiet,’ Daiv said. There was rustling in the trees, but truth was that any stealthy pursuers probably couldn’t be heard over the rain. ‘We’ve got to move. Besides, you know that we couldn’t have done anything.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yoh wheezed. ‘They wanted to fight.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Humans, listen to me,’said Payke, rather awkwardly. The others looked at him.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘The things that the Commander brought were bombs. If he can’t find out where it is, he’ll start blowing up the village, whatever parts aren’t already burnt down.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘We don’t even know what he’s looking for,’ Tean said.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You’re right,’ Daiv said and turned to the puppethead. ‘No thanks to your stunt with Arak.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘How could I have known that you would return with arrows blazing?’ Payke said. ‘We have to go back and take him out.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Daiv tried to keep a level head. ‘Roran and the others don’t need us, they need an army. Not to mention the other agents would likely die to defend Mr Sasket.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘And where’s the problem with that?’ Payke growled. ‘Do you really think your pontoon pals can get their bodies back?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Don’t you dare,’ said Daiv. He raised a finger to the man’s nose. ‘Don’t you dare think that they don’t matter. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a hideous -’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Payke slammed the boy’s arm away.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I will not be lectured to by an adolescent sand-for-brains human. You either accept my help or we part ways right here.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Tean stood agape at the glower contest that erupted between Daiv and the puppethead.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You two can’t be serious!’ he finally said. ‘We’re in the middle of an invasion! As long as we want to stop Mr Sasket, we’re on the same side!’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Both of them watched as Tean paced towards the montigers. He pointed at the ground.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I’m going to take my brother to Arten for medicine. Join me if you will, because then, with the biggest army I can find, I’ll make these body-stealers pay.’</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">***</div><br />
<b>SUNDAY</b><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Sometime in the seventh hour of the morning, Talon’s shift was almost over. Throughout the previous night there had been no sign of silent assassins or unseemly characters entering the Hanged Bat. Sitting behind a triangular window, set high across the street, he watched as activity in the hotel grew. Visitors and regulars were stirring to the song of the magpies but the youth wished only to return to sleep.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Around five, Ferran had joked that the puppetheads were sleeping peacefully while the travellers stayed awake on the lookout. As silly as it sounded, Talon wondered if there wasn’t some truth in it: if the teacher had any reasoning, there must have been deep cover agents all over the country. However, aside from the Dirty Fighters which Ogard seemed to handle deftly, their biggest obstacles so far had come from each other.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Breaking this line of thought, a sound prompted Talon to lift his head and stand up quickly, narrowly avoiding the beam that ran along the roof.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Shh,’ he heard someone say. ‘It’s only me.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Talon turned around. Leyh had climbed out of her own small bed fully clothed.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘He’s woken up,’ she said, pointing down, referring to the butcher whose attic they had rented for the night.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Ugh,’ Talon said and sat down.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Don’t settle now,’ the trader continued quietly. She raised a finger into the air. ‘We’re taking a walk and then you’re going to take me to church.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Talon gave her a puzzled look. ‘I can’t go back to bed?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Nope.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Talon stood back up. ‘But I’m not a member of the Kept Sect.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Leyh stuck out her lips and rolled her eyes. ‘I know that. Verden said that most of you up in Yerz are Freaks. Take me to the service at eight.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Behind her, the Honch snored heavily and turned over.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The youth sighed and mumbled, ‘I think I saw the place yesterday, it’s near the Mucatedra.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Great, let’s go.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">They tiptoed past their sleeping comrades and Talon stressed his reservations.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'Trust me on this, there won’t be anyone,’ he said. ‘I doubt there’ll even be a priest.’</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Sometimes the Troublemakers could make one furious.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">What had gone wrong? Had he started to become sloppy? There was no reason for them to switch lodgings, and yet they just weren’t there. Did they suspect him? Had he passed the hotel too many times?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">In the morning, the Trailer returned to Market Street after scouring nearby alleys. This would have to be the last time – after all, even with the new clothes he had procured someone was bound to notice that he’d been hanging around.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">After spending an hour in the shade of an unused fruit stall, the Trailer was about to leave when two of the Troublemakers hurried out of the butcher opposite the hotel.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'You’re sure there’s no way to find the boy?’ the Honch said. He and Ferran looked around, hoping not to be pounced upon at any moment by hiding Dirty Fighters.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I’m certain that Leyh didn’t just kidnap him, if that’s what you were thinking.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">They walked past the fruit stall without so much as a sideways glance.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘The Most Sincere would have been pleased to meet us all,’ Verden continued, ‘but maybe it’s for the best.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ferran furrowed his brow. ‘I sense that you still don’t agree with my decision to bring Talon.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Honch replied so fast that it shocked the fisherman. ‘The boy’s a liability. Besides, we don’t get along.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘It might help if you stopped calling him a boy.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Verden pouted, forwent a reply and started to analyse a nearby building’s architecture. Soon, the two men had moved far enough away for the Trailer to resume his silent pursuit.</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-10705313321357532372011-08-06T19:49:00.000-07:002011-09-03T22:05:06.074-07:00The Puppethead War #12: One Untangle, Two Untangle...<i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/07/puppethead-war-11-concerned-visitors.html">< < Issue 11</a></i><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/09/puppethead-war-13-spanners-part-1.html">Issue 13 > ></a></i> </div><i>It’s me, Daiv. We reached the Floating Village, but the puppetheads had already attacked and taken the bodies of several people. Mr Sasket is their commander. They took us below the surface, ready to be used as vessels to attack Yerz, but one of them let me go. She said that not all of them support this “invasion”, and now I’m pretending to be her. So play along and I’ll try to sort this out, just know that you can trust me.</i><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>SATURDAY</b><br />
<br />
‘You’re lying,’ Darrin Sasket said. He had Yoh pinned against a wall and a scary, twisted blade pointed at his throat. ‘I can’t call the others until I see everyone else. You tell them to come out. Tell them all to come out and defend our little town.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The puppethead squad’s approach to the village had been less than stealthy - after all, the group and their montigers was a sight to be expected when they finally returned to Yerz. The brothers Tanslan had been the only villagers standing outside the town hall, and had approached eagerly.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I’m telling you the truth,’ Yoh said. ‘Why wouldn’t I? No one else is here!’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Mr Sasket pushed harder and Yoh breathed out suddenly. He watched the man’s sword lightly touch his neck.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Stop!’ Tean yelled. ‘I can show you where they are, if you let him go.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Daiv was standing very close to the younger Tanslan brother with the modified crossbow pointed at his gut. Darrin ventured an aside glance at Tean and let out a cackle of a laugh.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You know I really couldn’t care about the two of you,’ he said. Behind him, Evaraea and the puppethead whose body had been killed by Darrin appeared shocked.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I admit that we could do with the bodies,’ the old man continued. ‘The army would be disappointed if I didn’t procure them.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘With respect, Commander, what are you going on about?’ asked Arak. Darrin’s face became a bloodthirsty grimace. As he turned back to Yoh, Daiv mimed biting onto something and passed a small piece of cloth to Tean. Tean looked puzzled for a second but took it and shoved it into his mouth before Mr Sasket turned around.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘It might have escaped your notice but I’m here for more than what the Queen gets out of this. I chose all of you because I knew that you were loyal to me first and everyone else second.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Fat chance, Daiv thought.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘We are here to look for something very... important. First, we will secure all of the villagers. Then we can begin our search before the other soldiers arrive.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">He looked at Daiv. ‘Leave that one here with us. “Daiv” will escort Yoh to wherever they’re hiding.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Tean’s eyes widened in fear but he couldn’t speak for the cloth in his mouth. Daiv tried not to engage either of them, nodding over his shoulder to Durga. He then waved his crossbow at Yoh and the man pointed east.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Go on then,’ the boy said. With the montiger traipsing warily behind them they led away from the town hall.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘The rest of you,’ Darrin said, ‘take down that ridiculous fence.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Three of the puppetheads walked down to the lake front. Tean thought that he recognised one of the floating village people, but he knew that they wouldn’t be any help. Seizing the only chance he had, he ran.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Hey.’ One of them, who might have been Arak, chased him up the main road.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Darrin yelled at the other two who followed momentarily. Tean zigzagged between the baker’s and another house, dodging around the corner. Quickly, he unravelled the note, lucky not to have swallowed it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Freeze!’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Arak had a knife pointed at Tean, who raised his arms, the cloth clenched in one fist.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I surrender.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Roran and the floating village man appeared behind Arak.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘What have you got in your hand?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Nothing.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Open it up,’ Arak said, brandishing the throwing knife. ‘Show me!’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Tean dropped the note and tried to slide along the wall as the puppethead agent picked it up. He began to read, out loud and hesitantly at first.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘That boy is in big trouble,’ he said afterwards. ‘Roran and Payke, or whatever your human name is, grab him.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Roran looked at Payke and the two of them turned to Arak.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I think you’re the one in big trouble,’ said Roran.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘What?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Tean was still edging away.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Wait, you’re one of the humans too?’ Payke said.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘’fraid so,’ the montiger rider said. ‘Fooled you pretty well, didn’t I?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Arak dropped Daiv’s note and fumbled for the knife. Before he could get his hands on it, Roran grabbed his arms and twisted them tight in several painful directions.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'Payke! Stop this idiot!’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The floating village man twitched.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You know what?’ he said, picking up the knife and lazily twirled it around. ‘It’s not that I never really liked you, Sawgei, but more about what the Commander said. My real body is dead. I’ve got no stake in that business, no more than this man here.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">He pointed the knife at Tean. ‘Would you stop that?’ The Tanslan stood still and lowered his arms.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I reckon I’ll help these dumb saps,’ Payke continued. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'Great, thanks,’ Roran said, still holding onto the struggling puppethead. ‘Would you get on with your change of heart already?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Shut up,’ Payke said. ‘Gentlemen, we have a hostage. Let’s find out what Darrin is looking for.’</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: justify;">When the Honch returned to the Hanged Bat shortly after his meeting with Nabbat Sing, the others were already waiting in the common room right of the main lobby. As he rounded the corner, all three rose from their seats and stared at him.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Verden stood under the arched doorway and put his hands out, palms up.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘How was the sight seeing?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You should have told us who you were,’ Ferran said eventually.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Honch seemed shocked. ‘What?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Leyh pointed at each of the fishermen.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Even I know that whatever’s going on, whoever is planning this, if we need help, the Keepers could drum up an army within weeks.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ferran continued. ‘Settle down,’ he told her, ‘we promised we would let you in, but I think it’s best to wait until we see this Gelba fellow.’ He looked back at the Honch. ‘What I don’t get is why you couldn’t be straight with me. We’ve known each other for years and you didn’t even <i>think </i>to clue me in?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">A dark cloud had passed over Verden’s face. He pointed an accusatory finger at Talon. Despite his distaste for the man, the youth couldn’t bring himself to look away.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You!’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Don’t blame him,’ Ferran’s weathered eyes betrayed a fierceness within that Talon had never seen, ‘you would have done the same thing!’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Verden, his head hung low and large hat waving about, moved to step inside.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Stay right where you are until I’m done speechifying!’ Ferran spat. ‘<i>Trust</i>.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Honch pleaded. ‘Surely you understand that -’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Not finished, Verden. Trust is all we have when we can’t tell who’s who. Now I’m willing for you to earn it again, but you’d better have a damn good reason for staying with us.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Leyh and Talon swapped exasperated glances, the trader occasionally looking through the front window over the youth’s shoulder. Daylight hours were moving on around them.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Ferran, I spoke with the Most Sincere - he’s willing to -’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Honch glanced behind him. No one had come downstairs or in from the street.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘He’s already going to help us,’ he said. ‘Please, I just couldn’t have the town know. You know that most of Yerz are just Freaks.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Talon felt his stomach tighten and Leyh shot him a confused expression, mouthing, ‘freaks?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ferran waved at the sofa in front of the Keeper. ‘I’m sorry, my friend. I’ve stuck by you ever since you became Honch of the village, but your condition doesn’t excuse you from lying.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The man bent over and leaned on the coffee table.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Have a seat. We should be receiving notice from the de Postrem residence soon. Meantime, I’m going for a walk. And don’t even try to take this out on Talon.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ferran left the room, knowing that behind him a quiet death-stare would have begun. He pushed through the hotel’s front door, startling a man who had been standing outside.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Uhh, sorry.’ The man was wearing a tubular scarf that covered the bottom half of his face and he carried a rolled up piece of paper.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Go on in,’ the fisherman said. ‘I hope you’ve got some good news.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The messenger man quickly nodded back. ‘Yes, uh, I hope it is good.’ He turned around but hadn’t touched the door when Ferran called out.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Hey, we haven’t met before, have we? I swear I recognise you from somewhere.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The man didn’t look back but brushed a hand down the door and went inside. ‘Sorry, don’t think so.’</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Several minutes after delivering the Captain’s message, the Trailer hurried out onto the street. He adjusted the cold weather scarf around his face and thanked whoever was listening that he’d escaped unnoticed.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Trailer had needed to do a few unkind things in order to get the job of delivering the summons. There was the unconscious servant whose clothing he had taken, the drugged guards at the mansion’s gate, the old butler he’d tricked into accepting him at short notice - altogether rather messy. It all paid off however, because now the Trailer had gotten a good look at the four travellers, or as he thought of them, the Troublemakers.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">They had been making trouble for him since they left the coach back at Gaimswick. Riding those extra miles in the pitch dark simply peeved him. At the very least he’d made good time following them to the Overarchy dome and finding out what was up.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Trailer considered whether their plan could succeed. A letter on the back of a pigeon might have been in order, to find out what was happening up in the mountains since he'd left.</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nairé knocked on her ward’s bedroom door.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Won’t you come out, Irena? You’re beginning to worry me.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I won’t leave until they do,’ the girl said, muffled through the thick wood.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The southerner looked back across the hallway to the main chamber.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘They only just arrived, sweetheart,’ she said.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Don’t call me that.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nairé couldn’t suppress a short giggle. ‘Okay, I’ll admit that was a bit much. But you’ve got to let me know why you don’t want to be with us downstairs.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The door opened and Nairé stepped inside. Irena was lying on her country-sized bed, arms crossed over her chest.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘How did you -’ Nairé began.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I propped a book against the door and threw another one at it,’ Irena said.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Pretty smart,’ replied the guardian. And a bit creepy, she didn’t say.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Irena sat up. ‘I know, right? I thought I could distract myself...’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘From what?’ Nairé sat down on the bed beside her.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Hmm,’ the girl said. She put her chin on her fist and faced the wall. ‘First these nightmares I’ve been having, then this morning, what Gelba said -’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You shouldn’t have been listening,’ Nairé said, though she didn’t think it sounded forceful enough.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘He said that I’m his granddaughter.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">There was a heavy silence in the room.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘And not just that,’ Irena said. ‘The other man mentioned a place called Yerz. Then this afternoon we just happen to meet a whole group of people from the same place.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nairé sighed and wrapped an arm around her.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘He,’ she paused, ‘he was probably speaking metaphorically. You know how close the Captain and your Uncle are.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I don’t know,’ said the girl. She could feel that much more talking would bring on tears, and that was not going to happen if she could help it. ‘It sounded like he needed,’ she choked, ‘needed me to do something.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Her babysitter stroked back long strands of her hair and sighed again.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘How about I go and listen to what’s happening,’ she said. ‘We’ll sort this out, don’t you worry.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Irena nodded slowly and hugged her friend. After a second, Nairé got up and went downstairs.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Let me get this straight,’ the Captain was saying, ‘you’ve come all this way because we might - let me stress this, <i>might</i> - be invaded by a group of tentacle people, that no one has ever heard of, rising out of the lake near your village.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘This isn’t a "might",’ Ferran said. The travellers paid no attention to the southerner as she entered the parlour. ‘The creature was very aggressive. For all we know, their entire society is made up of megalomaniacs like him. They had already taken several people hostage, which means there could be spies out across the world by now.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Also, we didn’t say they were tentacle people,’ said the Honch.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Yeah, although you’re right there,’ said Talon. ‘Like giant spider-squids, not to mention the parrot-heads.’ He motioned the legs with his fingers.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Leyh wisely remained speechless, preferring to analyse her opulent surroundings.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I can see that this is an important matter,’ the Captain said, ‘but you’re going to need proof. The Overarchy are less likely than me to believe any of this.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘The Keepers are the proof,’ said Verden, carefully phrasing his point as to appear neutral. ‘They know that the Quandomen will return, and that one of the signs points to this mind swapping business.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Wait just a minute,’ Captain Gelba said. ‘These puppetheads are the Quandomen? Come to do whatever they left undone when they were driven away the first time?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Before the Honch could open his mouth again, the butler walked in with a tray of sweet biscuits and drinks.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Shall I draw tea?’ he said. He glanced reproachfully at the visitors. ‘I have begun preparations for dinner.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Good grief, my man,’ the Captain said. ‘Is it getting that late?’ He waited until the butler had left the room again. ‘Normally I would invite you to have dinner, but the kitchen won’t be ready until Monday. Wulmer is a good chap but cooking isn’t his strong suit.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘We won’t take up any more of your time then, Captain.’ Ferran rose from his chair and extended a hand. ‘I hope that you will choose to support us before the Overarchy convenes again.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Captain shook Ferran’s hand amiably. ‘You'll have my answer before sundown tomorrow.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Even though they hadn’t eaten yet, Talon felt just about ready to climb into bed for the night. Horseback riding took a lot more out of you than sitting in the front of a coach. They made their way down the hill, and saw that the owner of the hotel had been kind enough to leave a lamp on. The street was still very busy with store owners packing up and groups of young, rich people heading from evening parties to nighttime after-parties. When they rounded the corner though, everything seemed to fade away.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">There was a large shadow under the lamp. Ogard sat on a bench outside the hotel, head resting on his balalyre. There was a dark streak on the fat end.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Oh no,’ Leyh said. She ran to him and held his face, waving to the others to come over.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘The coach was attacked,’ she said. Ogard stood up and raised the instrument for them to see. ‘I thought there was a chance, but I didn’t know for sure that anyone was following us.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Talon looked to Ferran for help. ‘Are there puppetheads trying to stop us from telling the Lords and Ladies?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The battered but unbroken musical instrument in his right hand, Ogard raised a torn piece of clothing in his left.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Not ordinary attackers,’ Leyh said. ‘Looks like someone hired Dirty Fighters to catch us. Luckily, they underestimated Oge here.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Let’s get inside,’ Ferran said.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Right,’ Leyh agreed. ‘We might have to change hotels to give ourselves a chance if they’ve tracked us down.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Second floor. Gelba's study. Right now, the Captain was giving Wulmer a lesson in what "al dente" meant for pasta, so she had at least fifteen minutes. Irena tiptoed along the dark hallway despite Nairé's chastising. The girl respected the southerner, and even loved her as a friend, but Nairé was not in control as much as she should have been. The woman was concerned that any disruption in the house before Irena's parents returned would change their opinion of her. It also helped that she was as curious as the girl about the Captain's real motives, though she did not let her ward know that.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Strangely, the door was open. Perhaps, as it really was the most out of the way room, Gelba had no need to appear secretive. No one had set foot in the house since Friday without his permission, so no one unwanted would have read whatever secrets his papers held.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Irena was unsure about what she'd expected to see, maybe a letter to her uncle about her lineage or even a birth certificate. Instead there was a map, a photograph and a sketch with hastily scrawled notes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'The Ceeyn Cache,' she read aloud, 'often called the Quandu treasure. Can be opened two ways, by a Union or the code lock.'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The photograph was of a gigantic tree in the forest. Directly in front of it was a stone inlaid with metal. The sketch depicted the stone as a set of dashes and shapes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'Code makes no sense!' was one of the scrawls. 'Irena shows no signs. Writing is nonsense. Focus on other caches for the time being.'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The girl felt a prickle on the back of her neck but there was no one in the room. She took the map and folded it up.</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-73476148901230085172011-08-04T15:00:00.000-07:002011-08-04T15:27:40.138-07:00Caught at the Nines<div style="text-align: justify;"><i>This is a short set in a new shared universe, and so incorporates some ideas from other writers. Read more at the <a href="http://scifistorytellers.com/?page_id=89">main page</a> on sci-fi storytellers.</i><br />
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<i>Warning: while this NOT an 18+ story, it contains moderate violence and themes, though hopefully no more than a police procedural show on TV.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">You can never be sure if it’s your first time at the Nines when you set foot inside that snappy virtual door. Something about long distance communication screws up cause and effect, meaning that snail boaters from wave three could meet up with first wave colonists without even knowing it. Everyone mixes with everyone else, producing a cross section that spans space and time.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I track the mark to this fancy digital dive and enter, surprised at what I see. Information from Shiny Green, my guardian angel, prints across my vision without order - I realise it’s a text based version of the chatter.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Thanks, Gee,’ I say, ‘but where’s the aural feed?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Look up,’ she says.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Flashing between dark and light blue on the Nines’ roof is a message from my Uni-Net linkup. A picture of a jigsaw piece broken in half, and a line of text: “RealHear™ plugin has crashed. Reboot?”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I tell the roof no-thanks and respond to Shiny Green. ‘Just do your best with the text and remind me to get to Coldreiuntuf for upgrades.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I don’t really want to go back to the capital planets - every time I do, it reminds me of what I don’t have. I won’t lie, it’s hard being a public detective. Company men get all the backing that money can buy, even if they’re only chasing fraud or off-piste individuals. Me? I’m one of three guys this side of the binary systems working on the big case and we’re stuck accessing the net from Secondrok IV.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Shiny Green reads me the chatroom text in basic approximations of the dialects that each patron has chosen. That’s enough. Now I can focus on my immediate surroundings.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I take in the strange, almost non-euclidean shape of the Nines. Walls curve off, and yet keep parallel with each other. Some avatars aren’t strictly three-dimensional. As I look around, Gee makes sure I’m aware of the community board dead ahead.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Company breakers and rival stooges,’ I say, fairly happy I could rattle that off. ‘Maybe if I had a job with IndemniCo or InterSlice we’d be tracking one right now.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Wrong place to be looking for a big-shot criminal,’ she replies. ‘I can count over $4 million in bounties in your field of view alone, all of which can’t be traced to their real world location.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Well we aren’t here for a big-shot criminal, are we?’ I say. ‘Anyway, who tipped us off?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I found it hard to believe until we got here,’ Gee says, ‘but I think you did.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I groan and sweep my eyes across the clientele nearest the bar.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘So I've been here before?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Shiny Green hums. ‘If you can’t remember, maybe you’ll be back in the future.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Yeah, except right now?’ I can’t get over the sheer lunacy of the idea, despite what I’ve heard.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Just follow the code interceptor that I’ve placed in your vision.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I track my own info to a thoroughly red-skinned man sitting in a booth by one of the walls. I realise why the walls seem to curve: an infinite number of private booths line them, but on the outside there’s a finite distance from corner to corner. Imaginary, fractal space at its finest.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Open up,’ I say. I hold up the simulation of my licence, which simply states, “Norian Osthorpe, Homicide” and an authenticity number.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘What have I done?’ the man says, though he unlocks the booth and I step in. I take my time, shrug, and quietly hope I’ve given myself the right man.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘I’m just investigating a murder on Malabierta. Not an official assassination, this was done without a company contract. Very rare these days, know that?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘The hell?’ the man says. ‘This is the net, how do you -’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Wait a second,’ I say. ‘I just wanted to ask some questions. Witnesses say that you, or perhaps I should say your real-life persona, was seen running from the scene of the crime.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Dude,’ the man says, pointing above his head. A neon username flashes into view. ‘This is me. Nothing to do with RL.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">At that moment, a rather boisterous individual bursts through the front door, proudly announcing his name and his intent on having a good time. That is all the distraction I need. I prep the simulated syringe and jam it into the neck of the suspect’s avatar.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Worm!’ he shouts, and shimmers slightly.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Lock the booth,’ I tell Gee. The man squirms about without being able to escape.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘What gives?!’ the man says. His eyes are flaring.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘That, my friend, is one of the few cool tricks I’ve got in here. You see, that code I planted in your access account will keep you on the net until I can trace your body’s location and arrest you for questioning. R. L.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Don’t do this to me, man!’ The mark is still shimmering in and out - trying to but unable to log off. ‘I need to eat! I gotta sleep!’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Would you like to co-operate and answer my questions?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Stuff that,’ he says. ‘I did the dame in, ‘kay? Just let me go! I didn’t mean to, but she was pestering me for the fifty -’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You did not kill her over money,’ I say. ‘You were paid by an unregistered syndicate, weren’t you?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘What? No!’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Don’t play dumb, Roody569. Someone arranged for her to be killed, and for it to look like it was an accident.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, it was an accident!’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Shiny Green patches in Constable Beet as I begin to have doubts.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘We’re tracking his real world location now... really think this one’s the guy?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I can’t think straight so I respond slowly. ‘I’m having some trouble here... He’s definitely the perp,’ I continue. ‘But there’s no link.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘What?!’ Beet’s voice over the phone line was exasperated. ‘You aren’t telling me that. You <i>aren’t</i> telling me that!’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The confessed killer’s avatar was lying immobile on the table, all of his energies directed at trying to escape the vice-grip of our trace program.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Every single lacky we’ve seen took way longer to crack,’ I begin. I try to contain my frustration. ‘I’m afraid this is that one-in-a-million we’ve always feared.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Shiny Green backs me up in her cold, mechanical way, without thinking about how I’m feeling.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I believe he’s right, Constable. The killer doesn’t match the profile of a syndicate member. We lucked out at the wrong end.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Damn it, damn it, <i>damn it</i>!’ I say, thumping the table hard, though I don’t hear the sound it makes. Any other month I would have been happy to apprehend a real criminal for the sheer moral victory over the uninterested corporations. But right now, on the big case, we needed any lead into the syndicate that we could get, and a totally unrelated killing was impossibly aggravating. Why would I lead myself here if it was just another dead end?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Sure, a battle won,</i> I think,<i> but still no closer to winning the war.</i></div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-9262169477712074502011-07-30T18:33:00.000-07:002011-08-06T19:54:51.644-07:00The Puppethead War #11: Concerned Visitors<div style="text-align: justify;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/07/puppethead-war-10-with-haste.html">< < Issue 10</a></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: right;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/08/puppethead-war-12-one-untangle-two.html">Issue 12 > ></a> </i></div><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Today's issue begins with a recap in the form of a letter written by the Honch shortly after the original first encounter:</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Sincerest others,</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>I am writing to inform you that a series of disturbing events have occurred in my home village, Yerz. A hostile force known to us as "the puppetheads" recently attempted to infiltrate our society from their home deep under the lake. The puppetheads can swap their own minds with those of any human they touch, making them very difficult to detect. Ferran, a friend of mine who was subject to this mind swapping process, would have been trapped were it not for yours truly and a pair of young troublemakers called Talon and Daiv.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>I intend on travelling with Ferran and Talon to the capital, to inform the Overarchy of the dangers that these puppetheads pose. However, I cannot be sure that anyone else is trustworthy. Therefore, I also invoke the right granted me to call a meeting of all available Keepers. As you are aware, the first sign of the Quandomen's return is when a man is not himself.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>We will leave with a pair of traders, Ogard and Leyh, later this week, and hopefully arrive in Carpol late on Saturday. Until then, stay vigilant.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Keeper in Yerz.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>SATURDAY</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘But I am the Honch!’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I’m sorry sir, but only a Lord, Lady or their representative is allowed to speak before the Overarchy.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Well <i>I’m</i> sorry that you weren’t handing out peerages when we seceded! This is an urgent matter that I can only present to -’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Then I suggest that you bring it to the attention of a Lord, Lady or their representative.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You aren’t listening! All the Lords and Ladies are in there!’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Verden pointed behind the receptionist at the great doors. He’d kicked up a fuss shortly after the group arrived at the dome and for the past few minutes Talon, his teacher and Leyh had quietly edged away. The wide circular corridor that surrounded the main meeting hall was a sort of national museum; by the time tourists and other visitors were staring at the Honch, the others were metres away pretending to be interested by a suit of armour.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘This is impossible!’ Verden yelled, throwing his arms in the air. At that moment, the central chamber doors swung in and a hundred high-class citizens came thundering across the room. In a fit of impatience, the man stood in the path of the throng and waved a hand.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Hello there, does anybody have -’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Talon winced as he witnessed what could only be described as a stampede. Various coloured cloaks and fancy hats surrounded the Honch until he was no longer visible, as Lord or Lady tried to reach the dome’s outer exit before other business caught up with them. After the wave of people had passed, a significantly grubbier Verden collapsed to the ground, hand still stretched out. He made squeeking noises.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Talon walked up to the land-owner and offered his own hand to help. The Honch appeared not to notice and continued to lie on the floor.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Is he going to be okay?’ the youth asked.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ferran folded his arms and cocked his head sideways. ‘He’s physically fine. But I doubt that being ignored like that was good for his ego.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Leyh had turned away, glancing about at the other visitors. She narrowed her eyes and watched suspiciously as two of the museum-goers approached. One was a young girl who couldn’t have been more than a head below the trader, while the other was a very tall and striking southerner, with dark skin and dancing pale hair.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I hope your friend is alright,’ she ventured, trying to avoid the trader’s glare, instead looking at Ferran. The Honch got up and mimicked the teacher from earlier by brushing down his light brown coat nonchalantly.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I’m fine. Thank you.’ He took two deep strides towards the strangers and held out his right hand. ‘I am Verden, current Honch of the village Yerz. Who may I ask has the honour?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Leyh saw that the girl shrunk back, her eyes becoming wide plates as Verden introduced himself. Concerned, she thought, perhaps because of the Honch’s self-important attitude.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Pleasure. I’m Nairé,’ the southerner said. With reserved grace, she took the hand. ‘Irena thought we might be of assistance to you. You need to speak to the Overarchy about your village?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Yes,’ Leyh said. The twang in her voice had returned and she raised an eyebrow. ‘What exactly was so urgent?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Verden ignored her and concentrated on shaking hands.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘We would prefer to discuss it with the Overarchy or not at all,’ he said.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ferran chimed in. ‘Could be a matter of national security.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The trader shrugged. ‘And here I thought that tensions had mostly subsided. I’m Leyh, by the way. Been all over this country.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Talon did a double take. Did Leyh think that the threat of invasion was from the north?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I am not certain I understand,’ Nairé said, looking down at hers and the Honch’s hands. ‘But if you want to bring something to the Overarchy’s attention you need to have a Lord on your side. I happen to be employed by Lord de Postrem, who is currently represented by Captain Rudimar Gelba.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Postrem?’ Ferran said.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> Nairé looked puzzled. ‘Please stop shaking my hand.’ She withdrew and looked to the teacher. ‘Shall I inform the Captain of your arrival?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ferran stepped forward and bowed.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘We would be in your debt. How will we know if the Captain has accepted our audience?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I can have someone send word to your lodgings. The house is at Five, Dean Avenue.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘The Hanged Bat,’ Leyh said instantly. ‘We’ll return there about four.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘That’s settled then,’ Nairé said. ‘Come on.’ She nodded to the group and dragged the girl, Irena, out the entrance way to follow the road back over the bay.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Curious,’ Ferran said.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘What?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Nothing important,’ Ferran shrugged. ‘I’d just heard that -’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Verden had started towards the door, readjusting his big hat.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Hey, where are you going?’ Leyh said. ‘I was going to show you the city.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Been here before,’ the Honch said without looking back. ‘You three have fun though, I’ll meet you back at the hotel.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Talon rolled his eyes and turned to the fisherman, resigned to the continued presence of the trader.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘There are a few things that you ought to know.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Another Keeper strode into the Mucatedra. That was all that bystanders knew or could know, as every single one that entered the large, pillared place had his identity veil drawn down. Once inside, this Keeper veered away from the main hall and knocked on the door to the right. After a small window slid back, he muttered something and the door was opened.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">On the other side, Verden removed the veil. There were three others of his sect in the private parlour, one drinking a cup of tea in a soft lounge chair and the other two pouring over a map spread on the parlour's big desk.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'Sincerest others,' the Honch said. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">One of the map-readers looked up and had to rub his eyes in surprise.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'Verden? You're here already?'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'Sure,' the Keeper in Yerz replied. 'Most Sincere Nabbat, I was able to ride here from Bing-Milton in order to arrive early.'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Most Sincere walked towards the Keeper in Yerz, shaking his head. The corners of his lips turned up.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'Good to have you here,' Nabbat said. 'And your friends stayed with the traders?'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'No, Most Sincere,' Verden said. 'They rode with me, along with Leyh, who is giving them the guided tour.'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nabbat Sing was a scrawny man, older than Verden but still razor sharp. He appeared slightly crestfallen.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'So it's straight to business then,' he said. 'Not all of the Keepers in Ryndia have arrived yet, but we have a minor voting party between us.'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Verden motioned to the lounges. 'Can we sit?'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Most Sincere nodded.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'A minor voting party will be enough,' said the Honch, easing into the comfortable chair. 'We just need a plan in case these puppetheads decide to take over the world or something.' For now, Verden was unusually calm. He knew the gravity of current events but being with his own fellows made him less concerned.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'And what about the fisherman, Ferran?' Nabbat asked.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'What about him?' Verden said. 'He can't remember very much.'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'Nevertheless, he has been associated with dangerous creature. And how do you know that it's really your friend and not the puppethead?'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'I went through this last week,' said the Keeper in Yerz. 'As far as we know, puppetheads cannot extract information or memories from their victims involuntarily. That's the only way we can tell.'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Most Sincere looked away. 'Hmm. I guess all that's left now is -'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'The brothers,' Verden said. 'If the Quandomen are coming back, we need to find our allies, and I don't think we will make it before the Overarchy until Monday.'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'Keeper in Yerz,' said the Most Sincere, 'It would behove you to bring your other countrymen here tomorrow. We must all band together to defeat this.'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'Whatever you say.'</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-16730472605181825262011-07-21T17:30:00.000-07:002011-07-30T18:42:45.346-07:00The Puppethead War #10: With Haste<div style="text-align: justify;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/07/puppethead-war-9-up-in-world-part-2.html">< < Issue 9</a></i><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/07/puppethead-war-11-concerned-visitors.html">Issue 11 > > </a></i></div><br />
By midday, the storm had reached more than a few miles inland. Talon, the Honch, Leyh and Ferran took shelter on the leeward side of a grassy rise and waited. Meanwhile to the north and west Ogard drove the hardy carriage with newly leased horses.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Though the trader was silent as always, his head filled with a jolly folk tune that he had learned to play long ago. A man with lesser restraint may have started mouthing the ancient words to it, or humming to himself. Ogard instead saved enough concentration for the landscape over which he travelled - this was why he urged the horses to speed up when the road passed into a grove thick with trees.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Rustling on either side put the trader ill at ease, his concern proved cogent as the grove began to thin. A billowing shape darted between two bushes in the middle distance. Ogard didn’t turn his head but scanned his field of view for any more hints.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">These were probably Dirty Fighters, he thought, though hoping he was wrong. Little was known about them other than their penchant for rippling clothes and quiet, surgical strikes. Ogard knew there was next to nothing in the back that Dirty Fighters should care for; nonetheless he loosened the reigns and grabbed hold of his balalyre. If the horses were worth their price they’d know what to do next.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">A series of thumps behind the driver’s seat. The trader gazed back along the left hand side in time to see one of the Dirty Fighters wrench the door open.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, they were after something in the passenger cabin. At least something that <i>had</i> been there.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Another noise close at hand. Ogard turned around and was face to face with one of the attackers. Iron knuckles glinted in the sunlight. Scenery rolled on as the carriage rumbled through the countryside. There was a disapproving growl from the man in the front cabin and a flock of birds squawked overhead.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Where are they, trader?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ogard said nothing, but he had the heavy end of the balalyre pointing at the man before he could even raise a fist.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The highway spiraled down to the outer reaches of the city, tending away from the rise of the eastern quarter until the land was more or less at sea level - not the incoming view that Talon had always imagined. From this angle, the nearest buildings obstructed sight of the Overarchy dome and the taller, pillared Mucatedra of the Kept Sect.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">This changed when the road banked left and took the travellers to a shiny and cobbled bridge. At their end, hovels clumped together and a sharp incline bordered the valley. On the eastern side of the river larger and more ornate buildings stretched as far as one could see.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Broken up by various snaking creeks, huge mansion-estates loomed over Carpol on the hills. Closer and on the other side of the bridge, the road opened onto a bustling square. Here the uptown scenery reminded Talon of Arten’s main street, only on a much grander scale. As they crossed the river, he saw how the bay fanned out like a funnel, pouring the world’s tall ships and commerce into South Ryndia. Another even shinier bridge extended over the bay in an arch from the docks to the rich seaside district. There, finally, was the dome where lords and ladies from all over the country sat in Overarchy. Also on the western bank was the pillared box shape of the Mucatedra, with a smaller pillared building nearby. A high wall had been raised between it and the house of the Keepers. The youth couldn’t resist a glance at the Honch as the horses were led into the plaza.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Hooves splashed in puddles left by the recent heavy rain and Leyh stopped hers and Talon’s ride in the shade of a wooden hotel. As the Houch brought his own horse to a halt, the teacher behind him dismounted clumsily. Ferran stared at the others, brushing trail dust from his green vest.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Not quite the same as a good old montiger.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Leyh granted him a smirk and leapt to the ground. She turned to help Talon climb down but the youth hesitated when he looked her in the eye. There was that hint of shrewdness beyond her years, though the accompanying grin was absent. Maybe, he thought, it would only come out at night around fizzy drinks.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The trader waved an outstretched hand.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Hello? Hello Talon?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Right.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">He climbed down and saw the Honch beginning to unload their packs from the horses. The first thing was the tall, pompous hat, which Talon had began to see in a new light. His sect were want to wear masks when reading from histories or ministering. Hidden identities protected Keepers in case of dangerous radicals. For the same reason, Talon had withheld from the others the facts Verden had spoken while on the carriage. When they had shaken Leyh, Talon would speak to his teacher about the Honch’s theories.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Verden might have noticed Talon’s continued study of the headgear and tossed him a bag.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘We’ve got some business to attend to over the river,’ he said with as little interest as he could muster. He focused on the trader. ‘Thank you for your assistance.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The young woman passed the reins of both horses into her left hand and rested the right on her hip.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You don’t think I’m just going to hang here,’ she said with a twang. ‘You three paid to get here late this afternoon. I intend on delivering that extra value.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The trader winked at Talon again, somehow unnerving him beyond the sly face.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘The least I can do is show you around the city. Help you get to where you need to go.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘But, the coach...’ Talon began.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Still on his way. Come on, I’ll take you to the bridge and you can explain this invasion to me.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Verden’s defeat radiated in all directions. ‘I told you I was joking.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I thought you said that Talon was playing a game?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Honch tried and couldn't put a complete sentence together.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘But you... and the fri- but I...’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ferran rested one arm on the man’s shoulder and stroked his own ragged beard with the other.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘The girl isn’t an idiot,’ he began. ‘We owe her an explanation for all this.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘That doesn’t even make sense!’ the Honch said, but he realised that the teacher wasn’t joking either.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘We should put our bags down and get to the dome. Leyh can come with us if she wants to know but we have to make it quick.’</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-28271064565828725952011-07-14T17:26:00.000-07:002011-07-21T17:31:25.501-07:00The Puppethead War #9: Up in the World (Part 2)<i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/07/puppethead-war-8-up-in-world-part-1.html">< < Issue 8</a></i><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/07/puppethead-war-10-with-haste.html">Issue 10 > ></a> </i></div><i>A shorter post this week to finish Up in the World.</i><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>SATURDAY</b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Irena bid a reluctant farewell to her parents as they climbed into Osrum de Postrem’s extravagant coach. Nairé, with whom Irena had stayed since early that morning, stood beside her, waving a dark-skinned hand out from under the umbrella. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The rain eased off as the horses pulled away, leaving the noble daughter, her appointed custodian and old Captain Gelba the only ones in the courtyard.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I say it’s too chilly out here,’ the man said, though his modestly overweight frame made it difficult to believe. ‘Care for tea, girls?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The three of them wandered back to the house. In the entrance hall the Captain waved to a servant before swerving towards the parlour. Nairé left her umbrella by a marble pillar to help Irena remove her galoshes, looking out across the drive and the near gates. Outside the grounds, commoners would be waking up soon. The southerner could understand if Irena felt isolated. The lives of the newly rich seemed so sparse and unreal compared to the rest of Carpol’s bustling metropolis.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Perhaps we should visit the gardens today,’ she said. She patted her ward on the back. ‘I’m sorry that you weren’t invited.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The rain redoubled its strength as if to put a kibosh on Nairé’s hopes and the girl gave a terse grin.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘It’s okay.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The southerner watched over Irena’s shoulder as the gates were drawn back again. A lanky figure carrying a lantern rushed up the drive. He arrived at the doors of the house dripping wet and the servant from before materialised nearby to help him out of his coat.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I would like to speak with Captain Gelba as soon as possible,’ he said, patting the rain out of his hair. The man was dressed in a tight undercoat and smart pants and holding a folder in his off hand. The servant, a man whom neither of the girls had learnt the name of yet, was much older and wore black and white. He had an exasperated air about him, quite rightly too as he had probably seen more people at the house in the last twenty-four hours than in his entire life until that point.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The servant took the visitor’s lantern. ‘Right this way.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Irena, who had been silent throughout the proceedings, gave Nairé the kind of inquisitive, apprehensive glance that only children of her age could produce before stepping sideways to watch where the visitor was headed. She followed the two men into the parlour with Nairé tagging along. Somebody stood up and the Captain’s voice rang through the entrance hall.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Alright there, young miss? I’m sure Wulmer would be happy to take some sweets upstairs.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nairé entered the room to see Captain Gelba guiding the visitor through another door.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Business as usual,’ the Captain said, winking to the southerner. ‘If you could take Irena -’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The door slammed and the servant Wulmer shrugged.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘If you’ll excuse me,’ he said. ‘Lady, Miss de Postrem...’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">He took a plate of breakfast items from the coffee table and left them alone.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Irena, I think that the Captain would prefer if we weren’t here.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The girl put her finger to her lips and smiled.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Irena -’ Nairé began softly, but trailed away. The girl tiptoed to the wall that joined the dining room with theirs. Nairé’s frantic body movements trying to get her attention went on unnoticed as Irena pressed an ear to the wall.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I don’t understand,’ the Captain said, voice low and muffled. ‘There should have been some indication. You can’t be telling me that the whole expedition was for nothing.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Well, Captain, there was the mountain of treasure...’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Captain briefly raised his voice. ‘I don’t care about treasure. We need to secure the other caches.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘With respect Captain, we should speak more softly. Besides, there’s always the one in Ceeyn.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘That infernal forest? You and I both know it’s a bust. If my granddaughter had shown any signs, maybe we could have tried it, but as far as I can tell Irena’s just a regular girl. Besides, we should talk about this somewhere else.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Captain Gelba, grandfather? There was little time to digest the fact as the sound of a chair moving raised her heartbeat. She motioned to Nairé, mouthing ‘Go, go!’ The southerner pointed upstairs and walked away.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘One last thing, Captain,’ the visitor said. ‘Just rumours and the like, but Keepers have been arriving in Carpol since last week, apparently for a meeting called by the Keeper in Yerz.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">There was a long pause.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘It’s not of our concern,’ said the Captain.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'Yes,’ the visitor sighed. ‘Probably nothing.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The dining room doors opened and Captain Gelba showed the visitor out of the house. In a corner of the parlour, Irena emerged from behind a large couch and hastily joined Nairé upstairs. The girl’s custodian was already planning for their day together as Irena planned to sneak into Gelba’s study that night.</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-66836036491053885382011-07-07T17:27:00.000-07:002011-07-07T17:48:38.380-07:00Ongoing Adventures #2: The Plan<div style="text-align: justify;">One day ago, Nuff and Renda had presented their dangerous scheme to the rest of the travellers.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Thing is,’ the mercenary said, ‘the gnome’s right.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nuff folded his arms and nodded smugly. Dastardly-Fred was drooling in his drug-induced torpor.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Renda continued. ‘We have to find out if Krotar followed us from the plains. I say we use this fake Dastardly to set a trap.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Sir Adrian held up his hands. ‘I don’t know about this. If this man is part of the freelancer, his face, shouldn’t we keep him safe until we locate the other remnant?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nuff tramped into the middle of the circle. Standing up, his pointy hat reached only a little taller than the knight who sat next to him.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘The way I see it, we do know where we can find the freelancer’s mind. We just need to get there. This twisted mistake of a man,’ he indicated Dastardly-Fred, ‘is <i>not</i> the freelancer. This man’s mind is a confused wreck and of no consequence to us.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Waory, who had been staring at the ground until now, turned to Nuff.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You’re suggesting he’s expendable because he’s not who we want?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘What we’re saying,’ said Renda, ‘is that there’s no reason we can’t leave the fake Dastardly with some kindly farmer and his wife and watch for a few days. If only to be positively sure that Nius and Krotar won’t bother us on the way to the Liquid Library.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘That's one heck of a mouthful,’ the knight snarked.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Today they were at the nominated house. Waory and Adrian staked out on a knoll above the back paddock, watching the mercenary and gnome as they dragged the invalid to the front door.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">They left Adrian’s note on Dastardly-Fred’s lap. The man’s mouth moved ever so slightly, and even from this far away the knight was sure of what he was saying.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I’m Dastardly... of course I am...’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Below them, Renda and Nuff would be finding hiding places for their horses. While they waited, Adrian brandished the circular footing on which was mounted a shard of glass.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘And you’re certain that using it to watch them won’t make me as mad as the old Land-Regent?’ he asked the government advisor. Waory carefully grabbed the device, trying not to get his fingers cut.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘If you are so concerned, let me watch first,’ he said, though he saw the knight’s expression harden. ‘What, you think I am the kind of person to harbour megalomaniacal tendencies?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Adrian spoke his mind, regretting it immediately. ‘You <i>are</i> a public servant.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Waory shrugged and flicked the shard, which rang like a muted bell. ‘Well played.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Erk, the Death of Trolls led the newly christened Stroeg through a maze of dank tunnels. Here and there, the freelancer caught glimpses of other trolls, though they were often hard to distinguish from the dirt around them. What exactly did a troll do?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I’m what ya call an aspect, friendly soul,’ the Death of Trolls said. ‘My job is to work with the jotunn tribes. Unfortunately that means I have no idea what your Death told you in the Dark.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Stroeg used one arm to stroke his awful face. ‘I thought I was dead.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Yes,’ Erk replied, turning into a larger cavern, ‘but only mostly. You’re alive now, anyways.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The freelancer racked his new brains, trying to remember what Death had told him.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I think I’m supposed to... reunite? Does that mean anything to you?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Erk stopped and turned to face the room in front of them. On the other side of the space a great curtain, taller than any of the trolls, covered something on the wall. The thought occurred to Stroeg that he had little idea of the size of a jotunn, so he couldn’t easily guess the height of anything.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Death of Trolls shouted a word that the freelancer didn’t understand and the curtain began to rise.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘We’re in a bit of a pickle right now, friendly soul,’ said Erk. ‘The jotunn live for a long time, but eventually we do die.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The freelancer huffed. ‘Good, otherwise you’d be out of a job.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Erk squinted and lifted one leathery lip to show off a set of jagged teeth. <i>Troll body language</i>, Stroeg thought,<i> I think I get that one</i>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Death of Trolls continued. ‘We’re a self-serving and sometimes barbaric race. Our tribe in these parts has been trying to pull the jotunn into the modern world, but we lost contact with the other tribes around the time of your World Congress.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You didn’t miss much over there,’ Stroeg mumbled. ‘Suffice it to say there won’t be another one.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Regardless,’ Erk said, ‘we think that magic is slipping away. Most lines of communication have been lost, families spread out across the underworld or the surface, machines breaking down...’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Might you get to the point of all this?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The curtain had arisen, revealing a large panel, beautifully gilded and covered by shards of glass. It almost made a cracked mirror except for two missing pieces.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘We’ve decided to operate the Mirror d’Aseere to locate our missing brothers, but in its fractured state we cannot risk it.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Wait just a second,’ said the freelancer. ‘I’ve seen a piece of this mirror. You really don’t want to be using it at all.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Only while it is riven will the mirror eventually cause insanity,’ said Erk. ‘It will be up to you to find the remaining shards.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Well I know where one of them is...’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Yes, with your friends,’ Erk said flatly. ‘They are not the issue. The other shard is in the Great Western City, where it would be hard for trolls to go unnoticed.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You mean -’ the freelancer begun.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You won’t be here much longer. Just remember that the spell runs out after three days.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Before Stroeg could reply, the Death of Trolls punched him square in the snout.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">When he awoke, the freelancer was himself again, missing only his Dastardly face.</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-61398041014496355192011-07-07T17:00:00.000-07:002011-07-14T17:59:41.008-07:00The Puppethead War #8: Up in the World (Part 1)<div style="text-align: justify;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/06/puppethead-war-7-friday-is-almost-over.html">< < Issue 7</a></i><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/07/puppethead-war-9-up-in-world-part-2.html">Issue 9 > ></a></i></div><i>A change of gear in this week's issue. There may be some things that don't entirely make sense but any questions can be posted here or on the hub page and I'll try to answer them ;)</i><br />
<br />
Irena woke up not long after three in the morning. The dreams had been getting worse, leaving her skin clammy despite the cold. For why or for what was no clearer, but she knew that there was a reason.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Her surroundings were as lavish as she could imagine. Everything in the house was sumptuous, colourful and rich. Oh yes, very rich.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">She had not known what to make of it when her father's uncle Osrum returned from the southern lands on a boat laden with plunder. The thought of her family's heritage being restored or the sheer wealth the expedition had attained did not properly enter her mind.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Instead, it was the little things that changed her. Her parents had spent the day discussing trade routes and politics instead of the entrepreneurial schemes that they were infamous for. Perhaps most frighteningly, they had agreed to spend the weekend with Osrum in the country. Some place west of Carpol apparently still recognised the de Postrems as their ruling house. More likely, an unusually cynical part of Irena thought, there was a county without a lord that responded pleasantly to gold and ancient artefacts.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">She'd played nice with the other children at the party, and beamed sweetly to anyone who noticed that she was a noble, but Irena had been born at the bottom of the pyramid and felt that by associating with upper class she denied her own origins.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">She had gone to bed early, in this, the most fantastic room she'd ever seen. There were plenty of cobwebs still to be removed but the bed and toys and wallpaper and everything else was fit for a princess. Irena had slept on the floor with but one of the voluptuous cushions.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The dark of the morning was broken by lamps lining the corridors of the de Postrem house. Irena crept along the hall outside her bedroom and past living rooms where party goers lay slumped in chairs or over card tables.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">She reached the far end and turned into an airy sun room where pillars and billowing curtains stood in place of walls. Out on the balcony was a tall figure whose hair and shawl were waving in the sea breeze.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'Irena,' Nairé said in her soft, melodious voice. 'Why are you up so early?'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The girl looked confused. 'Why are you? I couldn't sleep.'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'The nightmares,' said the woman. Irena's expression changed to surprise.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">'Don't be worried,' the southerner continued. 'Your parents told me. I too cannot sleep. My dreams are... well, never mind me.'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nairé turned to gaze out over the balcony. Carpol was mostly flat by the docks but the eastern quarter rose slightly where the little “Fingers”, tributaries from all over the lowlands, reached out to the larger river. The sea was rolling gently under a partially obscured sky and the many city lights shone in twisted patterns, but Irena was more intrigued by the foreigner’s attitude than the view.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Please continue,’ she said in a small voice. A gust of wind joined them on the balcony, then left for the streets below.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nairé looked at the shivering girl. She nodded, her shining white hair sticking to her much darker face as she placed the shawl around Irena’s shoulders.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘In my homeland, they were using children to fight in the border wars. My brother was taken when he was younger than you, and my parents did nothing. I ran away.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The young de Postrem kept quiet and Nairé continued. She hadn’t been this frank for years.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I didn’t know that people from the north had reached our shores,’ she laughed. ‘Hey, I didn’t know your people existed. When I came to the monastery, I thought your kind might have been the Chuai.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Sh-sh-shwhat?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Shu-wai,’ Nairé said calmly. ‘I think your Kept Sect call them by another name, the brothers.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘They told the story of the brothers last Sunday. I'm always confused about the brothers and the Quandomen,’ Irena said. Her eyelids were drooping, but she wanted to keep talking. Nairé was here to play the babysitter, so why shouldn’t they develop a rapport? ‘One of them was man's friend against the other. The Keeper reminded us that the tirans don't count because they have no interest in this land.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nairé nodded. ‘And the guernas have their own troubles to deal with. That I realised when I met Keeper Haasque. It was our trip to Omarin and the years I spent there that kept me awake this night.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Irena’s curiosity was captured. ‘Omarin is the city of thieves!’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nairé chortled and corrected the child. 'The city of <i>traders</i>.' The woman's eyes darted away and she shrunk sadly onto the balcony railing. ‘But I guess you could call some of them thieves. My people were being sold as slaves.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘That’s awful,’ Irena said, more by reflex than by thinking. ‘What did you do?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Haasque protected me for as long as he could, but eventually his identity was compromised. Someone found out what he was behind the Keeper’s mask.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nairé paused and looked up at the partially obscured stars. She assumed that Irena thought highly of her countrymen and decided to spare her a further account of cruelty in the Ryndian colonies. What happened to Haasque preyed on her mind. The guerna had been her mentor and the only Kept Sect member who had treated her like a being instead of an exotic pet.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Irena on the other hand knew of the old guard colonialists who still lived in South Ryndia or the ports. Though it was less common nowadays, a guerna or even a human from the south like Nairé could be assaulted simply for sitting at the wrong table.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘My uncle is a bit like that,’ Irena admitted, having guessed the train of thought. ‘He isn’t a big fan of Keepers either. I don’t know about the Captain, but Osrum doesn't treat outsiders very well.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I disagree,’ Nairé said, lifted from her reverie. ‘Osrum and Captain Gelba brought me here.’ She smiled and grasped Irena around the shoulders. ‘And they made sure that I met you. That’s better than anything that happened in the city of thieves.’ She winked. ‘Let’s get inside. I think the clouds are brewing up something fierce.’</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-2546979191759039932011-06-30T18:50:00.000-07:002011-06-30T19:09:40.430-07:00Dive<div style="text-align: justify;"><i>I make no illusions about this being a rough first draft. This is simply an idea that I've been toying with, possibly to turn into a new series. Comments and criticism are certainly welcome :)</i><br />
<br />
‘Alister!'</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The engineer’s devices were on the fritz trying to deal with the world’s excessive neural output. From inside their safe house, Tair, Aisling and the geist stared helplessly at a CRT monitor which displayed nothing but static.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Alister!’ Tair shouted into his mouthpiece. No reply.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘The door’s approaching, he has to be close,’ said Aisling. She stumbled as the wall beside them trembled. The wall had grown to accommodate the new world, turning the Rebels’ central space into a pleasant square room. Each of the older walls had a door in the centre, unique to the Rebel whose world it once led onto. The new wall hadn’t needed a door until Alister accidentally attracted the thief on the other side. Now, as a pinprick grew into a catflap-sized portal and continued to grow, the remaining Rebels could only hope that Alister had outrun the thief.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘There’s got to be something we can do,’ Tair pushed away from the small desk and tried to steady himself against the tidal forces that were seeping through the wall. He turned to the geist. ‘Isn’t there an escape trick or a subconscious weapon we can use to slow it down?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The geist’s golden-white trail was beginning to pull towards the wall at varying speeds, but its face remained calm.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Not unless the girl used mental exercises to foster a back door...’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Aisling groaned. ‘She’s a seventeen year old art student! I doubt meditation was on the cards.’ The door was nearly full size.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I’m done with waiting,’ Tair said, stepping closer to the portal. ‘I’m going for it.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Don’t!’ The geist and Aisling spoke in unison, though the geist’s voice was more measured and neutral. Their exclamation was of little use, each one’s voice slowing down like a bubble in treacle before compressing into floating sixty-point letters that wafted back towards them.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Tair was near the entrance horizon, so the onlookers behind him seemed to be a grey blur. He turned the doorknob slowly, grabbing hold of the frame with his left hand. There was no click, no opportunity for him to resist - one moment the door was closed, the next it flung out into a streaking, howling storm.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Stylised house pets and a can of peas flew past him in the void towards a dark vanishing point, both far away and too close at the same time. Directly in front of it, rising (or falling) towards the door was Alister, carrying the precious plunder under his left arm.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Tair’s grip on the door frame began to slip. He threw his right hand out to Alister, who grabbed it, slid back a little as the thief tried one last attempt at sucking him in, and then held firm.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Just as Tair felt his fingers give way, they were grasped tightly by someone else’s. Aisling was floating inside the safe house, her waist attached to the door on the opposite wall by a length of rope. A reverse image of the words DON’T LET GO followed by CLOSE THE DOOR floated in front of her before smashing into a million pieces against her face.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Alister nodded. Slowly they were dragged back into the safety of their collective conscious, but the quasi-gravitational forces of the collapsing world were reaching the centre of the room. The CRT monitor that they had taken from the engineer’s world was sucked into the vortex, narrowly missing Alister’s head. He grabbed the door handle.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Before the final heave on the human chain, the world remnant and the thief behind the Rebels began to compress dramatically, creating a fast approaching 2D plane. A roar of anger rang out and was silenced by the closing door. Suddenly all of the suction stopped, and Aisling, Tair and Alister dropped to the floor. It was a rainbow carpet.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The geist unbolted itself from the far wall and dropped the coils of rope still attached to Aisling. Tair looked back at the silent portal which wavered ominously before bursting into a shower of pink and green. In its place was a rectangle covered by an ornate pattern of chrysanthemums and carnations. The door nob was shaped like a duck.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Don’t ever do that again. Ever,’ Aisling said. ‘This place is unstable enough as it is.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Alister looked around the room.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I dunno, I sort of like some of the leaked stuff.’ The corner between his and the new wall was filled with beanbags and lined by a bench that looked like it came from a science lab. The other corner had kept some of Tair’s toys but was considerably more colourful.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The geist aloofly helped the other rebels up.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I think we need a new plan to fight the thief.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Tair stretched his arms, though he didn’t need to.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘You think?’ He turned to Alister. ‘You got the goods, didn’t you?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The objects, taken from the world before it was stolen away, included an average looking pencil, a few paint buckets and a box of charcoal nubs.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘The tools of a real Creator,’ the geist said. ‘These will aid us greatly.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">There was a thumping from behind the new door.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Oh no,’ Aisling said. ‘Not another hanger-on...’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Tair held up his hands. ‘Wait just a second, Ash. If anyone can use these tools properly it’s the person they belonged to.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The woman raised an eyebrow but said nothing. A muffled voice called out from the new door.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Somebody! I don’t know where I am.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Carefully, Tair turned the handle. There was a quack.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Inside was a water-closet-sized room that had one recliner chair at the back end. Every wall was covered by drawings and paintings. Standing in the centre was the girl. She wore a frilly red and black dress, black stockings, a black overcoat and had straight black hair. She wore eyeliner like a goth and had a nose piercing, but was definitely not of the demeanour.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Where am I? Who are you?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘We’re here to help,’ Tair said, realising too late that it was a goofy cliché. ‘Come out here and we’ll explain it to you.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The seventeen-year-old stepped into the main room. As she did so, it became slightly larger.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Take a seat,’ Aisling said, motioning to the chairs around the desk. She glared back at Tair.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The newcomer sat down and the others took up positions around the desk. The geist was wisely hanging back - it would take a lot more than one sitting to explain what it was about.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Ever heard the expression that there are worlds inside our heads?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The not-quite-goth shook her head.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘No, not really, but continue.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Aisling nodded to Alister.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Thing is,’ he began hesitantly, ‘there was an accident in a laboratory. A rampant idea, sort of like a virus, got loose. It’s been stealing the worlds inside people’s heads. They go into a coma and lose all sense of where they are.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Now the girl’s eyes widened.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I’d heard about the accidents. Something about memetics.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Tair took his turn. ‘I’m afraid you were its next target.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘I’m not an idiot,’ said the girl defensively. ‘If I’m in a coma, then how am I here? Where on Earth is this place?’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Aisling continued the spiel. She’d been at it the longest and had been shown a fair deal of the ropes by the geist.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘The middle realm, or Earth, is just one of countless worlds,’ she said. ‘We’re currently in a sort of non-place created by the subconscious energies our brains are giving off. Things work a bit differently than in the middle realm, but it’s home.’</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The girl sighed. ‘So why are you here? Why am I here? And what is the thing over there?’ She indicated over her shoulder without turning around.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Aisling reciprocated with a shrug.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">‘Some of this you will have to find out in time. As for us?’ She pointed at the men. ‘That’s Tair, short for Alastair, next to him is Alister - now you know why the first guy is Tair. I’m Aisling, and the “thing” behind you is called the geist. The world thief calls us Rebels, because we fight. We're going to stop it.’</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-24809432196409008092011-06-30T18:46:00.000-07:002011-06-30T19:12:03.067-07:00Ongoing Adventures #1: New Paradigm<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>To both new readers and old I present the start of Volume 1 of the Ongoing Adventures. For a better introduction to the principle characters, you can check out the previous stories "In Defence of the Realm" and "Search for Dastardly", both linked on the Ongoing Adventures hub page.</i><br />
<br />
The man was in rather plain clothes – brown pants and off-white shirt with a tunic held tight by a string of rope – but nearby were a set of lightweight gauntlets, and on a rock sat an elegant helmet. He was currently on an outcropping high above the fjord that gashed the land; not an ideal location during the frequent coastal tempests. The breeze was hesitantly growing. Before long the man was shivering slightly.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The reason for his lofty position lay in his hands. What illumination was available from the veiled sun shone onto a handful of rustling paper as the man wrote.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>I am called Sir Adrian. My companions tell me that you may have heard the stories. Please take care of this man. He once helped me save a kingdom, but he has lost his mind.</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><br />
</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i> </i><span style="font-style: normal;">The knight paused. Was it right to do this? He felt like these people didn't deserve it.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span><i>A man named Krotar is looking for him. I don't know why, but I have reason to believe that Krotar has lost his mind too.</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><br />
</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i> </i><span style="font-style: normal;">'We're ready to go,' said a voice behind him.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Sir Adrian, former Knight of the Clockwork City, turned to see the speaker. Renda San was of a sturdy type, dressed in a one-piece leather garment with clipped-on greaves for her legs. These made her look much more like a mythical warrior maiden than should have been legal.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'This isn't worth much,' Adrian brandished the notes and his quill. 'I feel dirty.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'We won't be far off,' said Renda. 'If anything nasty goes down, Nuff will give us the signal.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Adrian picked up his spare armour pieces and followed Renda to the camp down the slope. Amongst the trees of the wooded road birds chattered at the horses or sung in tune with Nuff's snoring.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Waory had finished folding the tents and now climbed onto his horse, still uncertain and clumsy after all these days on the road. Renda woke the gnome, whom she rode with on the second horse, and Adrian gave each of them a small root vegetable to encourage the beasts. Sal had completely recovered from her laminitis, so she was comfortable with taking both Adrian and the man who called himself Dastardly. She also seemed to understand that the other horses weren't as fast as her and had kept pace at the back of the group since they'd left the capital of the plains.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Everyone still up for this?' the knight said. Murmurs of agreement wafted about the clearing.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The false Dastardly gurgled. He hadn't said a coherent word since the old man of a village two days past had given the group a healing herb. His mind was degrading at an alarming rate.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> 'Onward,' Adrian said with a forced smile. </span><i>Onward, </i>he mentally cackled. <i>Time to ruin somebody's day.</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">***</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The mind and spirit once known to his allies as Dastardly Medieval finally surfaced. Perhaps, though, surfaced is an inappropriate term as its new dwelling place was far from anything resembling a surface.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The mind felt itself lying down. This was at least a physical location, it noted. Nothing was like it remembered. It, or rather he, let out a cry of pain. Death had not been nice.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Settle down,' he heard a voice say. It was deep but not unkind. 'You've just arrived.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Lying on a bed of stone. A smell of deep, dank earth. Much deeper than the roads the gnomes had delved.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Now then, friendly soul, I think you can open your eyes.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The freelancer did so. He was in cave lit by open fire torches. A presence was nearby, but there was no visual evidence of that fact until a bulky, brown arm swung a bowl on a handle over his head. Little green coals dropped from it and sizzled on the freelancer's face without hurting him.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The freelancer sat up.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I've got to do it...' he said. 'Death, the Four Ces... it all has meaning.' He clutched his head and groaned. 'But it's all a jumble.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Calm down, please, friendly soul,' said the voice. Directly in front of the freelancer was a craggy snout, like a cross between a crocodile and a pig. The head of the thing must have been a foot long. The thing's face was adorned with tattoos. Many beaded tufts of hair sprung out and dangled, glinting in the firelight. One of four stocky arms was holding the green flame bowl.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'You're a new arrival,' it said. 'We understand that the Ces put you here for a reason.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The freelancer began to panic, feeling his own face.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'What happened to me?!' He gaped, feeling the long greasy teeth and the rough hairy nose. 'My face! My beautiful face!'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The freelancer grabbed hold of the creature's animal-skin clothing and shook it violently.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Dastardly Medieval doesn't do ugly! What is going on? Oh, my beautiful face...'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Settle,' the thing said, waving another arm in the air, wafting a feel of calm through the freelancer. 'That old face wasn't yours to begin with. You are no longer Dastardly, friendly soul. Your name is Stroeg.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The freelancer was speechless. Useless scraps of information floated around his mind like chunks in soup.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The thing in front of him smiled, as much as the freakish snout could. 'I am Erk, the Death of Trolls. Maybe I can help you understand why you are here.'</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-73191594907472635192011-06-16T18:21:00.000-07:002011-07-14T17:58:51.587-07:00The Puppethead War #7 - Friday is Almost Over<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/06/puppethead-war-6.html">< < Issue 6</a></i><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/07/puppethead-war-8-up-in-world-part-1.html">Issue 8 > ></a></i></div><i>As "Friday" comes to a close, I confess that I did not initially plan a long focus on Daiv, and I apologise if this current dark turn seems to clash with the opening issues. Next time will be different as we shift focus to a character nearly forgotten about.</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Yoh hammered the final wooden pole into the soft ground, this one standing at the north-most point of the Yerz inlet.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Where do you suppose Mr Sasket and the others are?' he called out to Tean. The sun was sliding lower in the sky and the riders, bound for the Floating Village over a day ago, had not yet returned.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">At the other end of the beach, his brother shrugged and pointed back to Yerz. Yoh knew what would happen next, despite having little idea of <i>how</i> it happened. Once Tean pulled the lever, powerful energy would surge through the fencing wire. </div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The contents of the box, the merchant in Arten had said, were various products of the earth, primarily potatoes mixed with potent alchemical concoctions. The energy would leave the box and travel along the wire, wanting to return to the earth it came from. Touching the fence granted the energy's wishes, but the body it passed through was scorched as if by an interior fire.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'We can only hope this invention works against inhuman creatures,' said Tean, joining Yoh at the doors of the boat shed. The sight of the ramp being fenced off unsettled both of the young men, having been accustomed to seeing fishermen come and go constantly until the week past.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Yoh shrugged for no apparent reason. 'You know, I thought you'd have a joke or something lined up.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'What about: with this energy fence, we're “lightning” the mood?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The brothers stood in awkward silence, then Yoh remembered their other duty to be done before sunset.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'We had better make sure that all the houses are secure. The fence won't protect us if they come out with enough force.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Tean grumbled. 'If they come out at all.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Yoh did not lecture his brother about being too eager for battle. Instead he said, 'I'd have been more confidant guarding the town if the riders were back tonight.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">***</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'You will not be returning to Yerz until early morning,' said Darrin. The “Grape” craft surfaced near the cove of the boatmen, sliders in the top half revealing a darker sky than Daiv had imagined. The lateral movement as they rose from the pressures at the bottom of the lake might have been driven by extra puppetheads – indeed, they must have required agents “on the ground”, so to speak, to take away the unconscious mindswapped bodies.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Dammit, Daiv thought. How many of these retched monsters were there? How many were willing to leave their own bodies behind in this invasion? Where were the other protesters that Laryet had mentioned?</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The Grape moved towards the shore and the boy noticed that Darrin was fiddling with a mask and backpack vest. From the design of the thin metal curls it was probably a Quandu artefact.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">One of the men that had jumped Daiv in the alley began speaking.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Commander, are you going to –'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Keep in line, Arak,' Darrin Sasket said, eliciting a confused expression from the soldier. 'I am not Commander, I am Mr Darrin Sasket. You are now Arak.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'My target was called March,' the other man from the alley said.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'That name will stay,' Mr Sasket said without pause. He attached the mask to the body of the apparatus and then to his own face. His voice slightly muffled but still understandable, he continued. 'Those who know their target's name will be referred to by that name and nothing else. Otherwise, make something up that sounds... human.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The front end – or back end, it didn't seem to be distinguished – of the Grape jerked to a stop on the pebbles of the beach. Daiv stood facing what he thought of as starboard, with Roran and the Floating Village boy still recovering on his right. He wasn't sure if they were also in his position or if he was the only one spared. </div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The boy stood up. 'I shall be called Dripelev.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Too much to hope for, Daiv thought, as he tried to keep a straight face. One by one they climbed into the frigid waters and waded to shore. The boy who naively wanted to be named after a joke from the eastern peaks appeared less steady on his feet than the others, who would have had time to practise locomotion back on the pontoons. Daiv tried to add a slight wobble to his own step.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Prepare yourselves and the humans' montigers,' Darrin called. 'We will leave three hours before dawn.' He turned slightly away from them but looked back after a second.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'In case you'd forgotten, that's a quartech.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The Commander dived into the water.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">***</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The riders' mounts had stayed by the beach since they had left that morning. When Daiv approached Durga, he was wary of the puppethead soldiers' glances. In particular, Arak paid attention to the manner that the Yerz boy's presence affected the beast.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I should have known,' he said, appearing at Daiv's side. 'I should have guessed that this would happen, “Daiv”.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The rider stood stock still, his hand midway down Durga's saddle straps.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'What do you mean?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">A suspicious smile crossed the man's face.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'You've been practising with the montiger souls, haven't you?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Relief washed through Daiv and he turned look at Arak with his head bowed sheepishly.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">''fraid so,' he said. He raised his voice. 'How about I give the rest of you a hand?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The other three montigers had backed up the slope and into the trees, each sounding a low growl of the kind that loosened bowels in the wild. The puppethead soldiers were clustered at the door of the hut, watching for the beasts' outlines in the rapidly dimming light.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">***</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">A fire had been put up by the more learned of the group, including Daiv, who had tried to appear aloof, in control and talk as little as possible since calming the montigers. The creatures that had taken up residence in Roran, “Dripelev”, March, Arak and the woman (named a preposterous “Evaraea”, which Daiv sorely wished to tell her to shorten to Eva) were gathered around the flames, eating rations and discussing things like the feel of wind on little skin hairs or the limited range of sight that their targets had.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Daiv, monster tamer,' one called out. 'Join us.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The boy had given the excuse as Laryet that it was important to spend time with the mounts, let them smell you and so on. He and the sixth puppethead agent were both a way out from the pitiful flames, Daiv reassuring Durga while watching the puppethead, who clutched his head every now and again. He also appeared to be muttering to himself.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Since the soldiers were not particularly well regimented, Daiv approached the group as casually as possible. Disgust rose in his throat. Knowing that these people were not people at all but evil invaders was torture enough that he almost wished Laryet had not spared him.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'What's his problem?' he asked, pointing to the shaken-looking one. He sat between Roran and Dripelev, hoping that they wouldn't get personal about life under the lake and reveal his pretence.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'You three don't know,' March said in a matter-of-fact way. 'Apparently, the Commander <i>killed</i> Darys's body when you arrived at the village... I sure can't blame him for being out of it.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Evaraea – still an awful name – butted in.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I guess that's why you let your own target escape then, “March”.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The man was visibly distressed.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Just be lucky you got the pick of the female warriors. Laryet here's surely miffed with her gender-bender.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Daiv then tried to act distressed. 'Why should you care? It's what Darrin Sasket would have of us.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Arak cut the conversation in half. 'If you ask me, the Commander has grown the grass after all these years in human.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The circle was quiet. Daiv got the impression that each soldier was hoping the one next to him shared the sentiment, a euphemism evidently about insanity.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'You don't know the half of it,' Dripelev finally said. Daiv's hopes of a partner in subterfuge were doused. 'I heard that he tortured his own body to death in order to extract every last detail from the target.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">For the first time, Roran spoke. 'Dangerous and crazy or not, he's still the Commander.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">As the others nodded in assent, Daiv knew that he had gotten in far too deep.</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-10352455106838008882011-06-09T17:41:00.000-07:002011-07-14T17:57:54.308-07:00The Puppethead War #6<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/06/puppethead-war-5.html">< < Issue 5</a></i><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/06/puppethead-war-7-friday-is-almost-over.html">Issue 7 > ></a></i></div><div style="font-style: normal;"><b>FRIDAY</b> </div></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"> The Trailer rose late that morning, stretching slowly and getting dressed without a care. He'd listened to the pompous man and the traders talk for nearly an hour last night, without being glanced at once. How impressive this ability was! To hide in plain sight, in the enemy's own form, like a wolf in sheep's clothing.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"> For a second, the Trailer wondered where that turn of phrase could possibly have come from. He knew what a wolf was, he assumed that a sheep was some sort of prey, but the idiom was totally alien to him. He tried to let it go, knowing it would rear its head at some inconvenient time.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Next door to his own room, he paid the woman who had acted as his partner and thanked her for such engaging conversation. Manners were important to the Trailer because he hoped that they were the sign of a decent person. In the midst of all of this, he <i>had</i> to believe he was a decent person. </span> </div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"> The Trailer wandered downstairs and paid the innkeeper as well, remembering to tell him how surprisingly comfortable the beds were. Then he leisurely strolled to the inn's stables, found the dullest of the horses and stole it.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"> After all, it was still war.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">***</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Lunchtime came and went like the patches of trees outside the carriage. By the time their coach arrived in town it was late afternoon and Ferran, the Honch and Talon were thoroughly bored.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'This has been a very kind gesture,' Talon tried to put it as delicately as he could, 'but I honestly don't know how you stand it. And you say we've got even longer tomorrow?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The Gaimswick Gulp was the name of the tavern. Verden and the teacher had hung back at the bar while Leyh sat with Talon in one of the booths. The trader slurped her sweet, amber-coloured beer.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Oge's gonna stay here with the coach, that's for sure. He's gotta pick up some things but I've got an –'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The Honch and Ferran arrived with their own topped up tankards and Leyh switched her attention to them. For what must have been the second or third time today, Talon felt unnecessary.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Oh good,' the trader said. 'Have either of you ridden a horse?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The adults stared at each other for a moment before looking back to Leyh. The youth wondered absent-mindedly about if she'd been brought up somewhere that had horses.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Never in my life,' said Ferran.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Despite himself, the Honch's mouth twitched and he said, 'I did some training on a ranch out east.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Leyh turned to Talon with that powerful expression on her face. This might have been the beer's face, Talon thought, but it seemed to work.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'We can take the horses to Bing-Milton,' she said. 'Shouldn't be more than an hour and a half. Then if we leave early tomorrow, we'll be in Carpol no more than ten hours.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Talon's elders shared a survey of the youth, suspicious of what he might have given away.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Why would we need to race all the way?' said Ferran. 'Your coach will be there tomorrow evening.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Why race indeed?' the trader said. She winked at Talon. 'Obviously you aren't in any real hurry, but I thought it would be a welcome change of pace. <i>If</i> you could pay for the replacement horses on the coach.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The four of them sat in silence, each contemplating his or her next move and occasionally taking swigs of drink. Finally, Ferran produced a decent handful of coins from a recess in his jacket. He flicked them over the table and Leyh, still holding her glass with one hand, swiped them from mid air with the other.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'We have another deal, boys. Let's fly.' She looked at each of their blank faces. 'Metaphorically speaking.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">***</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Daiv's brain rebooted, painfully aware of motion. Wherever he was, whatever this place happened to be, it was accelerating downward.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">***</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Mr Sasket rested on the concave wall with a massive grin on his face – he was enjoying this. Certain losses had been taken, indeed a great many soldiers had fought till death on the surface, but the four who remained were worth it.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The men from the alley had carried Roran, Daiv and the Floating Village boy to the central pool where an oblong transport nicknamed “the Grape” had been waiting, guided by the last of Sasket's phase two squad. The Grape had been designed for human-sized passengers but the mass of the thing was small enough that soldiers could push it through the water.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">As the prisoners were loaded on board, he wished that there had been just one more agent to track the boy's mindswapped compatriot, who had somehow escaped the attack in the alley. When he closed the hatch and rapped the go code to the pilots outside, Sasket concluded that the escapee would probably die on the beach, gasping for air without knowing to use his gills. That was solace enough.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The Grape sliced through the water, into the deeps and to the south east. There would be no taking chances this time, Darrin thought. The three remaining phase two agents, currently steering the Grape to the city's outskirts, would be heavily sedated just prior to the mindswap process. Daiv and Roran, this other boy too, would awaken in the lowest level of the darkest dungeon in the ruins, waiting for Mr Sasket to decide how useful they were.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Commander, the Yerz boy is waking up,' said one agent, inhabiting the body of the young man named March. The soldier from the plaza had joined the others but had not spoken since he'd seen his own body killed.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Good,' said Sasket. 'You should know from experience that the process is less than comfortable with an unconscious target.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Daiv stirred. 'What's going on?' He then remembered what had happened in the village. The boy sat up straight, having been laid on the metal floor of the Grape between the other two captives.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Roran!' He moved forward and became aware of the three battle-scarred men and one woman who shared the cramped space with him. The boy drew back and glared at Mr Sasket.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I knew it was you,' Daiv said.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The old man did not appear to have heard him. 'We were unprepared for Ferran's case. My agents were too inexperienced. Now that I've had time to train them in your history and mannerisms, you and Roran will be perfect infiltrators as we prepare to leave.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Talon will warn the Overarchy before you get a chance to invade,' Daiv said. 'Any suspicious activity in Yerz...'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Try and see <i>logic</i>, boy,' the old man said. 'Those government bigwigs won't believe mid-Ryndian fishermen about bogeymen from the lake.' The Grape decelerated sharply. 'Ah, I believe we are ready to go.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Panels along one wall of the craft started to slide back and a huge pressure increase popped Daiv's ears. Between him and the near darkness was a crackling membrane. The shapes of multiple puppethead arms pushed against the thin window and Sasket picked at a point to release a gush of water. The cold water splashed on Roran's face and he woke up. The window re-sealed itself, but before Daiv could ponder the ramifications of such a material his head was pressed hard against it by one of the puppethead agents.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">No longer was Daiv in the submerged, metallic cigar. A creeping dread rose as he realised that there was absolutely nothing around him, just an endless blackness. Then the music started.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Some kind of stringed instrument, he thought. A guitar or lute. The tune was simple and soothing like a lullaby. The stringed instrument was soon joined by a dull percussion and the boy felt a second presence in the void.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>--We have very little time--</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><br />
</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i> </i>What was that?</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>--Stay calm and listen to me--</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><br />
</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i> </i>Is there somebody here?</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>--In human speech my name is pronounced Laryet. I'm what you know as a “puppethead”--</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><br />
</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i> </i>'You aren't taking our world!' Daiv shouted out. 'Least not me!'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>--Don't speak, the soldiers will hear you--</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><br />
</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i> </i>Daiv prepared to resist whatever came next, all the while the music was building in his mind. Nothing happened. Laryet, though invisible, felt like he had moved closer.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>--I'm actually a she, for your information--</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><br />
</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i> </i>The creature could hear what Daiv thought. That connection disgusted him.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>--Listen, you will pretend to be mindswapped when this is over. There is usually a period of disorientation--</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><br />
</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i> </i>This was insanity, thought Daiv. He'd cracked.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>--Followed by confirmation with your commander. Tell the one called Sasket that you hear a rippling wave--</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><br />
</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i> </i>This monster was trying to enlist him. For what reason?</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>--Not all of us want the invasion, you have to stop this stupidity and... the sedatives are beginning to take hold; we probably won't meet again--</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><br />
</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i> </i>The black void was gone and the boy was back on the underwater vehicle. It was rising slowly.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Ready, Laryet?' said Mr Sasket. He lifted Daiv to his feet. The boy didn't need to pretend, the experience had left him groggy enough.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'… a rippling wave,' he managed to mumble.</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-86830567057263823542011-06-02T17:09:00.000-07:002011-07-14T17:57:06.273-07:00The Puppethead War #5<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/05/puppethead-war-4.html">< < Issue 4</a></i><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/06/puppethead-war-6.html">Issue 6 > ></a></i></div><b>FRIDAY</b></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Where's Sasket?' Daiv said. Roran kneeled near one of the dead bodies – the reek was unimaginable. He placed his hands together and closed his eyes, mumbling something, then lifted the crossbow from the man's cold hands.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'He went in amongst the buildings. As long as he's safe...'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Roran.' Daiv stood away from the wall and spread his feet to balance on the rocking floor. 'I think that the teacher may have suspected Mr Sasket of being one of <i>them</i>.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The boy pointed to the lake monster. Its motionless corpse was several times larger than the one that had attacked Ferran. Clearly more than a baby.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Nonsense,' said the other rider. 'Darrin Sasket has been with the village since before I was born, since your teacher was barely as old as you.' The man's head wavered side to side. He weighed the crossbow in his hands, aiming through the building's doorway.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'He might have been taken even before that...'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Roran ignored Daiv's comment, though his eyes flicked about warily. 'Do you hear that?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'There's nothing,' Daiv said.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Roran stood up. 'Right. If anyone was still fighting, we should have heard them as soon as we got here.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Shouldn't we keep going?' the boy said. His voice cracked. 'I mean, I'm not trying to –'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Grab the other crossbow,' Roran said. Feeding his own bow, he tossed Daiv an unusual ten-bolt clip. 'Shouldn't take you too long to figure out.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Throughout the known world, there had never been a single exponent of industry. Instead, various inventors and tinkerers had risen and sparked out, leaving behind a patchwork of ideas. Some of these were easier for blacksmiths and farmers to replicate a dozen times over – others, much like the Quandu technology they were based on, were one of a kind.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">What Roran failed to mention was that setting a crossbow was <i>hard</i>. These weren't like the hunting bows they'd used in the forests around Yerz. Daiv could handle those. What ruined him was that Hem had made it look so ea<span style="font-size: small;">sy on the boat.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"> 'Get a move on!' Roran hissed. 'We'll make our way to the central plaza.'</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Without warning, Daiv invented.</span></div><div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;">***</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> The one called Darrin Sasket passed between two larger buildings into a wide open space that was strewn with debris from a burnt-out battle. Several stalls in the village's plaza had exploded into wooden splinters and bits of people. The sheer physic</span></span><span style="font-style: normal;">al energy expended here made him nostalgic. He swung the crossbow at his side.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Time was moving on, so he wandered across broken bodies of both species to a pontoon that had sunk slightly. The corner was dipping into the circle of water that formed the centrepiece of the plaza and a heavy breathing caught his attention.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">In the central pool, the head of one of his soldiers' bodies was balanced on the pontoon's edge. A human was trying to push its neck back into the water but stopped when Sasket arrived.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Hark... a rippling wa...' the human began.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Summer flows,' Sasket replied. The human slumped beside the soldier, whose heavy drawl echoed around the buildings. With the rudimentary lungs they were granted, the one called Sasket thought, they were lucky to breathe at all in the low pressure air above the water. This one would not survive much longer if it couldn't submerge its gills.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Soldier,' Sasket continued, 'what are you doing?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The human took a deep breath, and the body behind him did likewise. Sasket knew the answer that the mindswapping soldier would give him.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I need somewhere... to return...' the soldier said. 'Don't I?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The one called Darrin Sasket realised that the soldier's new body was not in top condition, but Sasket had been around enough wounded humans to hedge his bets. He raised the crossbow and aimed at the weak spot between two cartilage plates on the soldier's original body, straight into the central nerve cluster. He fired once, lowered the bow and took the time to load another bolt. Then Mr Sasket fired again. The laboured breathing stopped.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The soldier stood up, clutching at his side.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'What have you done? I...' But the pain was too great and he fell again.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Sasket wrapped the man's arm around his shoulder and helped him up.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I've freed you,' he said. 'The human is dead. This is your body now.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">***</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Down an alley that rocked to some far off wave, Daiv and Roran circled each other back-to-back. They came across a darkened door hanging ajar.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'We can cut through here,' said Roran. 'Stay alert. Some of the invaders might still be here.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The space was barely a shack, a low maintenance home that might have drifted its way to the centre of town from the poorer districts near the wharf – likely the Floating Village's form of social climbing. A bed was broken and dark fluids were sprayed on the walls. The battle had reached here. A scraping noise outside attracted Daiv's attention and he waved to Roran to follow him through the opposite door.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Daiv was not very knowledgeable in subtlety, especially not in dangerous situations such as this. He poked the end of his modified crossbow past the doorway and towards the scraping noise, then peaked around the corner.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">There was a huge mass blocking the right end of the road outside the door, comprised mainly of matted seaweed, but Daiv recognised the shape as that of a puppethead. Without thinking, he leapt from the shack and fired a bolt into its back. The creature groaned but kept trying to drag itself away. Daiv levered the custom loader with his left hand and another bolt slotted into place.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">A voice rang out from beyond the beleaguered creature. 'What are you doing now? Come to finish us off?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">A human boy, probably younger than Daiv, had scrambled on top of the heap that covered the puppethead's flesh.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'You can't steal me!' the boy said, dancing left and right with his hands flat beside his ears. 'March, they're coming, get to the water!'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Stay where you are, or I shoot again,' Daiv said, aiming his next bolt at the boy.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Roran rested his arm on Daiv's shoulder.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Easy there, I think we have to calm down.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> Daiv turned to face the other rider without lowering the weapon. 'I </span><i>know </i><span style="font-style: normal;">what you're thinking, but these things will do anything to trick us.'</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I'm just saying we should stop yelling –'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Roran was interrupted by a scrabbling on the rooftop to their left. Before either rider could do anything, two men had jumped down to the street, one in front and one behind. Both carried multiple injuries, at least superficially.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'You are our prisoners. Come to the main plaza,' said the one behind them.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The boy down the street stamped his feet. 'Run! Get on your feet... legs... whatever!'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The puppethead beneath him struggled to move faster away from the group outside the shack, but the man in front of Roran and Daiv was on top of it in three quick strides.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I think I understand.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Quiet!' the man behind them flipped a knife into his hand and pointed it at Roran. He continued regardless. </div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'They start a battle to bring out the strongest warriors. Strong bodies to steal.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I said be QUIET!'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Daiv and Roran turned for a better view of their apparent captor. They hadn't made a move when, like lightening, he snapped their heads together, knocking them both out.</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-6869837878180847612011-05-13T23:00:00.000-07:002011-07-14T17:56:07.361-07:00The Puppethead War #4<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/04/puppethead-war-3.html">< < Issue 3</a></i><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/06/puppethead-war-5.html">Issue 5 > ></a></i></div><div style="font-style: normal;"><b>THURSDAY</b></div></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Ferran came upstairs later that night, allowing Talon to vent his frustrations at the Honch's attitude. Verden, as was his name, was a man whose brain chemistry might be a little out of sorts.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'So you're saying I can't blame him for ridiculing me like a child?' Talon said, though he was aware his fourteen-year-old self was on shaky ground with this argument.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Ferran closed the door to the small room. 'I don't want you getting in his way. You should already know that he's prone to mood swings.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'But I didn't do anything wrong!'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Listen.' Ferran sat on the bed, next to the youth. 'It might actually be a good idea to keep the puppethead problem to ourselves on the way to the capital.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Talon ventured a quizzical look, but in this state he simply seemed rebellious.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The teacher tried again. 'The Honch was concerned that we might alarm the coachmen, but I think there may be a more tactical reason. We're still unsure of how many people have been taken by the puppetheads.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">His fingers twiddled aimlessly, hesitantly, seeming unsure if he wanted to continue.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'When I...' he paused, 'wasn't myself – it's all so hazy now – the other captives mentioned that they had been taken when fishing on or near the lake. Some had been there for a long time.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'What is it?' Talon asked, again giving the wrong impression, this time of impatience.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Let me finish,' Ferran said. 'It's possible that people outside of Yerz have been replaced, or commandeered, or whatever you want to call it. Maybe it's paranoia, but if I were planning an invasion I would have agents as far and wide as I could.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'That makes sense,' the youth agreed. 'You don't have to talk about it though. I know you don't like remembering all that stuff.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I just wanted to say <i>be careful</i>.' Ferran stood up and went to leave. 'Verden's contained the situation downstairs. We have to leave early tomorrow, you should get some rest.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b>FRIDAY</b></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Between his being roused in a half-sleepy torpor and the feeling of the stagecoach bumping along, Talon remembered little. When the sun eventually showed itself, he opened his eyes to take in the cramped cabin and realised that the coach wasn't moving.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Though there wasn't enough space to stretch out either forward or along the padded bench seats, Talon imagined that, sitting straight, six people could be passengers on this leg of the Train. Maybe four, if they were all as big as Ogard. Currently Talon was its sole occupant.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The youth wiped the sleep from his eyes and stumbled out the door. They had stopped on a section of the highway that meandered lazily over the rise to the south. These were the dregs of the same mountains that the sun was only just rising above – an undulating, wild land that was sparsely populated by woods and even less so by humans.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Something on the other side of the carriage caught his attention. Ogard, Leyh and the Honch had grouped together, staring into the bushes. From the sound of it, Ferran was being sick. Talon saw the teacher stand up and wave back at him, confirming his suspicions.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Lightening the load for the horses!' he called out. Talon approached the others.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Seasick on land?' he asked. Leyh turned around slowly. Talon thought this was to show she wasn't concerned with very much this morning. She was eating a large apple.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'A lake fisherman would know all about <i>sea</i>sickness, wouldn't he? It seems your friend hasn't travelled anywhere for very long... at least not by coach.' Leyh took another big crunch.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Talon paid the horses at the front of the travelling-contrivance a cursory glance. 'Montigers are better anyway.' The girl ignored the comment and returned to patiently waiting for Ferran.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The youth was still trying to pretend the Honch wasn't standing at his right when the teacher rejoined them several minutes later.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Well, I think it's best that we allow the traders to continue on. Good morning sleepyhead,' he nodded to Talon. Then Ferran locked eyes with the Big Honch, regarding him with something like condescension, though Talon was unsure. 'Verden, I would like to take your seat up front. I'll do better to be in the fresh air.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Surprisingly, the sudden flash across the Honch's face was not anger or frustration, but fear. He looked at Talon and back to Ferran.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'But – there's only enough space up the front for three.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'It's my turn on the reins,' Leyh muttered. 'And Oge here doesn't like being cooped up.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The big man shrugged non-committally and walked back to the front of carriage. Ferran grabbed the other two by the shoulders.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Play nice.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">***</div><div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Not for two hours after the motion sickness adventure did the Honch or Talon speak. Wedged hard into opposite corners of the passenger cabin, they passed the time with arms folded, periodically glaring at each other.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Finally, after a bumpy stretch of road caused them to wobble about, Talon was fed up.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'What did you mean the other day?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The Honch looked confused and then sighed. 'What are you talking about?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Talon massaged his temples, perhaps the motion sickness was getting to him too.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'When you said that you should have seen all of this coming.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Verden rolled his eyes. 'It's a long story, shouldn't we –'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The youth looked through the window at the passing countryside. Soon they'd be on the wide plains, dotted with the huge estates and agriculture plantations that had boomed since the collapse of Old Ryndia. <i>Dotted with highwaymen, </i>a darker, thrill-seeking part of his mind told him.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'We won't reach Gaimswick for seven hours or more,' Talon said. 'I think we've got time. You need to convince me that you aren't one of <i>them.</i>'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The Honch appeared to be weighing his options and didn't speak again, so Talon tried a different tact.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'If we're going to beat this thing together, we need to trust each other,' he said, annoyed at himself for acknowledging it. 'Can I trust you?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Verden moved to the back seat and spoke in a hush. 'Just keep this to yourself.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Talon shook his head. 'We're all in the same boat.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The Honch clenched his hands in response, but Talon could sense he was close to breaking point.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'You've probably heard of the Keepers,' the Honch said. 'Shouldn't surprise you to hear that I'm one of them.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Like a load had come off his back, Verden rambled on. He told Talon about the annals from before the Quandomen disappeared, about how the Keepers weren't just humans from Ryndia and Brooksland but also guannas and tirans from the other side of the Ash Straits.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Most importantly,' he said, 'there was always a possibility that the Quandomen would return. The Keepers were told to be on the lookout for three signs, the first is “when a man is not himself.”'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Whoa,' Talon said, though the Honch continued without stopping.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'My master always thought that the signs were literal. You can't get more obvious than when the puppetheads start stealing minds.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Talon leant forward to grab the Honch's attention. 'So you're saying that the puppetheads might be the Quandomen?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The Big Honch stopped and held his hands in front of his face. They writhed about and pushed away at Talon. 'I don't know! Leave me alone!'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">With that, Verden was once again cold. He sat back on the other bench and Talon remained speechless for the rest of the morning.</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-51257922531293461582011-04-30T06:37:00.000-07:002011-04-30T06:37:18.570-07:00Search for Dastardly Part 6<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>And now for those who have been waiting for the "conclusion"... here's a part almost long enough to be split in two ;P </i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><br />
</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>In all seriousness though, the main scene worked better as a whole, and the epilogue should answer a few questions about other characters' motivations.</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><br />
</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><b>Previously on Search for Dastardly:</b></i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>Renda, Waory and Nuff have discovered that there are remnants of the freelancer wandering around, remnants that Krotar will likely seek out if he wants to get his revenge. Meanwhile, Sir Adrian has been captured by what appears to be a familiar face...</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Adrian currently hoped that he could stall the crazy man long enough to figure a way out. The ropes binding his arms and legs were tight and not very thick, but it would be painful to rub the fibres together if he wanted to weaken them.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> The room around him seemed to be a deserted publican, complete with barstools covered by white sheets and cobwebs lining the roof. The only possible weapon Adrian could think of was the old broom that rested against the wall. </div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> There were two entrances: saloon doors to the knight's right and a pair of wooden doors behind the bar. Neither were close enough to reach before “Dastardly” or his accomplice could stop him.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'If you really are him,' he asked, 'then what is your real name?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> “Dastardly” hesitated before stuttering the line he had said three or four times since Adrian became conscious.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'...b...b...bai'm called Dastardly,' he said, his voice straining against something.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'What happened to that friend of yours, the one you told me about that time in Sponge Country?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Friend? I work alone, Sir Adrian. Anyone who I call friend just hasn't outlived their usefulness.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Yes, about that Dastardly,' said the dirty man with the raspy voice, 'what are we –'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Silence! Listen to me when I'm being important.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Look, “Dastardly”,' the knight said. 'It should be obvious that I'm not very convinced. If there's nothing else I can help you with, I'd rather just be on my way.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Fred, there's someone outside. Can't you hear them yelling?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> The false Dastardly turned around and begun, 'For the last time, I'm not...' before the back doors burst open. Sitting astride Sal as she replaced her hoof was a knight.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'What the..?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> As the dust of the smashed wood settled, Nuff leapt into the room and fired a crossbow-like weapon at the ratty man. Out of the end came a small net that swung around the target's head, causing him to fall over. Nuff waved to the horse-rider and called out, 'yep, he's in here!'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> “Dastardly” dived for the front doors but was too late as the armoured knight – wearing Adrian's armour! – dismounted the horse and threw the broom like a spear at the man's head. The false Dastardly went down and the knight approached Adrian. The figure removed it's helmet, revealing itself to be Renda.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Aren't you a little...' Adrian continued despite his better judgement, '...<i>shapely</i> to fit that armour?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Aren't you a little tied up right now?' Renda replied drolly, though a friendly smile flashed across her face like lightening. She went to untie Adrian while Nuff thumped “Dastardly” with the butt of his shooting device. In the other corner of the room, the ratty man struggled to his feet, took one look at the man he had called Fred and ran out the back door.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Leave him,' Adrian said. He brought his arms forward and massaged the wrists. 'Good job, by the way,' he nodded to the gnome. 'Clever little net-sling-thing you've got there.' The knight stood up and winked at Renda. 'And the broom? That was genius. How did you know where I was?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Renda and Nuff exchanged guilty glances.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Well there was your horse...'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'And gnomes have a good sense of direction...'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> The mercenary sighed. 'You mean you didn't hear that?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Adrian appeared puzzled. 'The ratty guy said he heard shouting.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'We tried two other buildings on our way over here,' Renda grinned and ventured a shrug. 'So maybe people were a bit surprised.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> A heavy silence hung over the room, broken by the false Dastardly groaning.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Did you find out what happened to Dastardly?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Nuff gave the man on the floor another casual bump on the head. 'More or less.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'What does that mean?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Renda knelt down and grabbed the unconscious body's legs.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Give me a hand?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Adrian obligingly lifted the head and together they walked out the back door.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'The Book says that when the Regent poisoned Medieval, he left behind some remnants, separated from his body. I guess you've already met his face.' They swung the limp man over the horse's back.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> The knight simply raised an eyebrow.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Don't expect me to tell you how,' Renda said harshly. 'One remnant is the fa<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">ç</span>ade that he put up, including what he looks like and that silly name; the other – his soul – is in the Troll Underworld, whatever that could be.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'What do we do next then?' said Adrian, poking his head back into the building. He then turned left to see Nuff waving to somebody. Waory rounded the corner of the alley and shook a large key at the others.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'The librarian told me where we can go to find out – hi Sir Adrian, glad to see you're alright – the place the book mentioned.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Slow down,' the mercenary said, removing Adrian's gauntlets from her smaller but certainly not dainty hands. 'What is that key?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Waory stopped shaking it. 'This? Mr Parch said that we should take the key with us, as long as we're on our way to Skim. The Illuman book is safely locked away for now.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'We're going to the river town?' Adrian was taken aback. 'What the heck for?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Mr Parch said that if we really want to find Dastardly<span style="text-decoration: none;">, the real Dast</span>ardly, we need to go to the Liquid Library.' The advisor clearly didn't quite understand what that meant, but continued anyway. 'The easiest passage to the mountains over there is north of the river delta.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'You can't be serious,' Adrian groaned. 'This is a <i>quest</i> you're talking about. Just when I thought this stuff was over...'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Renda shook her head. 'Don't you get it? Whatever happened to Medieval can't be normal. And we've got to keep one step ahead of Krotar! Let's get moving!'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Nuff sidled a little closer to Adrian.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'I don't think the knight's so stupid. Listen lady, you've been a big help since I met you, but we don't even know what this Krotar is after – all we have is your word that he wants the freelancer.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Scowling, Renda threw the remaining armour pieces on the ground.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'I'll find him alone if I must. You three had better be ready for when Nius catches up on your trail.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Waory jumped in front of her as she stormed up the alley.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Hey wait, I need to –'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Out of my way.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Hey, hey, hey people!' Adrian manoeuvred a shoulder between them and eyeballed the mercenary. 'None of us have a good reason just to turn on each other.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Oh yeah? Then why are you so reluctant to get going?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Nuff switched tact. 'Do I sense a hint of softness for Mr Medieval?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'It's not that at all.' The knight's face hardened. 'Renda always wanted to be an adventurer, that's why she joined the mercs. This is just an excuse to go gallivanting around the countryside after ideals and treasure.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> The woman opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but nothing came out.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'I knew I was right. This isn't about rescuing anybody. Nuff – was it her idea to burst through the door like a knight in shining armour?' </div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> The gnome offered no rebuttal, and Renda's eyes stared, empty, into the middle distance while Adrian continued. </div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">'You want a reason to quest across the land and defy fate – right, Miss Rogue? You want to laugh in the face of Death. Let me tell you, Renda, I've seen Death, and she's the one thing you don't make light of.'</div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Waory backed away as the mercenary slumped to the ground.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Wow,' she said. 'You certainly know how to wind a girl.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> From her kneeling position, Renda looked up into Adrian's stern eyes. They appeared to soften a fraction. Then, she thrust her fist between his legs.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> The knight squeaked and toppled backward, hands covering his crotch.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'That was <i>low</i>,' he said, in a voice that was anything but. The mercenary stood up.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Thank you for wrapping up everything I am into one neat package.' She spat on the ground beside the knight. 'Bet you wished you kept your armour on now, right?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">When Adrian had finished making the sounds of a dying mouse, she offered a hand to help him up.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'We're going to Skim, Sir Knight, and on the way you can tell me all about my adventurous aspirations.' Renda glanced at Waory, who had managed to hide behind the far wall of the building without apparently moving.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Regent's advisor, would you care to show us the way out of the city?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">----------------------------------------------------------------------</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b>Epilogue</b></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Mr Parch the librarian choked, his eyes rolling towards the ground. Nius, whose hair and beard ringed his face like a lion's mane, released his grasp on the librarian's neck but remained holding the knife blade to his throat.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'The Land-Regent knew everything about what was going on in the north,' said Krotar calmly. 'We simply wanted to do his job so we could get close enough to <span style="font-weight: normal;">steal the Book</span>. Not only did that fool Medieval beat me to Hox, now the Regent's in prison and the Book is back here. My friend doesn't like that. He needs the Book, and I need Dastardly gone. Give us the whereabouts of both and you'll live to see another dry, musty, indoors day.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'I can't give it to you,' Mr Parch said, still whispering, though much more frantically. 'The other librarians are the only ones who can unlock the quarantine vault...'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Then give us your key,' Krotar said. 'We'll leave you alive at least until we come back.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Nius grinned like a carnivore before pouncing. He opened his mouth to release a sound that shall not be described here, but it was a sound that shook the librarian's psyche to the core.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'I can't.' Mr Parch tried to smile for his small success. 'It's out of the city by now.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 'Don't worry,' Krotar sneered. 'We already know who you gave it to.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> With that, Nius sniffed the air and directed the enthralled mercenary out of the library. They were on the trail – on the hunt for prey.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <i>To be continued in the Ongoing Adventures.</i></div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-67461503217938743412011-04-28T17:20:00.000-07:002011-07-14T17:54:29.265-07:00The Puppethead War #3<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/04/puppethead-war-2.html">< < Issue 2</a></i><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/05/puppethead-war-4.html">Issue 4 > ></a></i></div><i>Welcome, readers, to instalment number 3, in which we witness Mitch's attempts at action and suspense; and where for the first time we will focus only on Daiv. Next time, the focus will be on Talon.</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b>THURSDAY</b></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Hints of winter's chill nipped at the riders' goat-hair coats, but there were weeks of autumn left in these mountains. Daiv was the last to join the group on the ridge, where a clearing offered view of the boatman's alcove.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Isn't there supposed to –' he began, but another rider shook his head. The man was called Roran, and Roran lifted lightly on his mount's reins to turn back. The fourth, Hemroj, followed him, leaving the boy alone with Mr Sasket.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">No one would have expected to see darkness behind the hut's windows, or the solitary boat that slouched on the pebbled beach. The boatmen, from what Daiv had heard, were of a courteous and inviting nature. Whoever drew the night shift kept a fire lit to assist travellers, whether they approached via the beaten path or took a shortcut like the montiger riders had. There were also supposed to be more boats tied up to the little pier in case of emergency.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Daiv looked to the old man at his left. Mr Sasket glanced back to the boy before taking the same route down to the shore. The riders congregated outside the empty building and Daiv soon joined them as Roran spoke in a hushed tone.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Something is going on,' he began, 'but don't make any assumptions.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Darrin Sasket nodded. 'I think we should sleep here for the night and take the boat in the morning.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I'll keep an eye out for anything from the east,' Roran continued. 'Hem can take the second watch. For all we know, they could've just been held up.'</div><div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b>FRIDAY</b></div><div align="CENTER" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">This was the next morning and Daiv stood quickly, bleary eyes and fuzzy memories, to the sound of the door creaking. Within a second everything returned: yet again he was behind the others.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">I'm just a lazy teenage boy.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Daiv emerged into a streaming multicoloured light as the sun eked over the slopes behind him. The three adults were down by the water, having already floated the boat.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Oh good, you're up,' said Hemroj. He waved for Daiv to join them, then began to speak, probably repeating himself for the boy's sake.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Neither of us heard or saw activity from the direction of the village,' he said. He pointed to the east. 'I think it's best that we all go in the boat. If we move slowly enough...'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'How will we defend ourselves if the puppetheads attack?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Hem appeared to be insulted. He pointed behind Mr Sasket and behind the boat, where – Daiv took a quick glance – three crossbows were piled together.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'We take the crossbows from the hut and fire at anything that moves.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">This did not stop Daiv's uncertainty for the venture.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'The last time I went on the lake was when Ferran was taken.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Darrin butted in. 'From what I was told, you three weren't being very careful.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The boy picked up a crossbow and pointed it at the ocean, trying to get a feel for how to aim it, but Hem snatched the weapon from his hands.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'We'll take turns, you can row first.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Together the group climbed aboard. As it was essentially a wooden dinghy, Daiv didn't have too much trouble getting them away from the beach, but by the time the village itself came into view, he registered a sinking feeling in his gut. The feeling had also reached Hem and Roran – their eyes darted between the water and each other almost constantly.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">This was the first time Daiv had seen the village on the lake, but he was fairly sure that the buildings – bumping together lazily on leather and wood pontoons – shouldn't have been smouldering.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Hem hissed through gritted teeth. 'Get us over there now.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I'm going as fast as I can!'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Hem took his eyes off the water and leant backward, passing the crossbow to the boy. Daiv grabbed it and moved forward so the man could take the oars.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">A wailing cry rang out across the water, startling everyone but Darrin. A crow flew straight past the boat and continued away from the wreck. Darrin pressed on the end of Daiv's crossbow; he had whipped it up to aim at the bird.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Keep steady and focus on the water.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Hem's rowing had taken them in closer. Not all of what they could see was burnt, but the expected hubbub generally associated with a population centre was replaced by eerie silence. They approached a small pier.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Darrin spoke first. 'Stay here, I've got to look around.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The old man climbed out and the others quickly realigned to stop boat from tipping. In the shuffle Daiv dropped his crossbow and the weapon bounced off the side into the water, making a deep splash. He turned to the others and grinned stiffly.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Sorry.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Roran shushed him and sidled closer to the bow. He pointed out past Daiv's left ear to the source of his concern, a wave lapping at the side of a building not far away.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">There was a shift in the air, like something had changed.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Suddenly a cephalopod arm the size of a tree erupted from the water and a parrot-like screech made those in the boat cover their ears. Before they could move, the arm came down on the boat, wrenching the two halves apart like a saw. Hemroj was thrown from the back of the boat, still clutching onto one of the oars, while Daiv flew forward and hit his head. </div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Amongst the remnants of their craft Roran swam towards Daiv's dazed body. He managed to negotiate the boy around one of the struts that held the pontoons. Heart beating wildly, Roran climbed onto the pier and went for Daiv's arms.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Wha... huh...' The boy came to, both riders dripping water and slime onto the wood. As one they looked back to the water but Hem hadn't made it any closer.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Daiv yelled to him. Beneath the water the dark shape of the monster changed course.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">It seemed that Hem was fast enough, swimming several lengths of the now sunken boat in an instant, but when he was less than a metre from the outstretched arms of his fellow riders, he disappeared.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Once more there was calm, but this time it was broken by four more arms of the monster springing from the water.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Run!' said Roran. Daiv and the older man bolted down the wooden slats. They reached the larger wharf just as the creature smashed the pier. Roran grabbed the boy's collar to steer him away from the heaving mass of splinters as they dived into a large building.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Inside they could still feel the slight rocking of the pontoons caused by the disturbance. They each took a side of the doorway, glancing out at the ruined water. The creature had retreated beneath the surface, but, Daiv thought, it would only be a matter of time until something tried to attack them up here.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Roran breathed deeply. 'I take it that was a puppethead?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'No doubt.' Daiv sniffed the air. 'What is this place for?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Man oh man,' Roran said, eyes widening as he turned to look behind them.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The reek was coming from the back of the room. Resting on the wall was the massive bulk of one of the monsters, now lying still. To either side were limp human bodies, each holding a crossbow of their own.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'That's a big one,' said Daiv, shaking from either the cold or fright.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'We're late to the party.' Roran waved a hand to clear the air and coughed.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Maybe some villagers are still alive,' Daiv said.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">'What do you mean?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Daiv looked back out at the lake. 'For the sake of Hem, I'm hoping they still take prisoners.'</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-2210040359851452062011-04-14T17:47:00.000-07:002011-07-14T17:53:22.877-07:00The Puppethead War #2<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/puppethead-war-1.html">< < Issue 1</a></i></span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/04/puppethead-war-3.html">Issue 3 > ></a></i></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i>@<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/03579737369756389484" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3778cd; text-decoration: underline;">J. A. Platt</a>, thanks for the feedback :)</span></i></span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; line-height: 18px;"><i>Everyone else, I know there isn't a lot of action in this part but, trust me, there will be some later.</i></span></span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Ferran and Talon were to meet with their travelling party at an inn on the outskirts of Arten. The town sat at the feet of the mountains and on the whole was not much bigger than Yerz, however, Arten appeared to be much more important to travellers between North and South. Even at sundown that day, the two messengers found the sloping main street pulsing with activity, whether the people were locals cleaning up their market stalls or rowdy groups of traders in search of a drink.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">As they passed through the central square, lined by buildings up to three stories high, Talon spotted the Tanslan brothers. Though they were several years older than him, Talon had been friends with them when they'd learnt arithmetic from the Niatese teacher Garth. Names like Garth and Mithy had always seemed alien to Talon – now that he was setting off the farthest he'd ever been before, he associated those names with imagined foreign lands. Conversely, catching the Tanslans as they headed home would be a fitting touchstone before everything lost its familiarity.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Hey Tean, Yoh!' he shouted across the cobbled space. Yoh lifted his head from the tray of fish that he was packing carefully into an icebox.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Talon! What are you and the old man doing here?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">As the youth made his way towards their stall, Ferran frowned. The fisherman didn't need to be reminded that his half-century was only three years away, however young he felt.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'We've got to warn Carpol about the puppetheads,' Talon said. 'You guys won't be overwhelmed if a few come up while we're gone?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Tean ruffled Talon's hair. 'Ha. We could handle this little invasion all by ourselves! Wish I'd been there for the first one,' he made jabbing motions with his right hand. 'Woulda skewered it and we'd have monster calamari barbecue.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Yeah right,' Yoh stood up beside him and raised his fists theatrically. 'More like, you getting taken over while I go hand to hand with it in your body.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The two brothers devolved into trading harmless insults and Ferran grabbed Talon's right shoulder.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'We have to keep going,' he said. 'They'll be waiting for us.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The youth sighed and they said their goodbyes before continuing down the road.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">***</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The montigers appeared to be getting restless. Before long, the humans gathered their things and prepared to move on again. Daiv adjusted Durga's saddle before bringing up the very rear of the group, racing through the rugged paths that took them around the expansive western lake. </div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">His mount was a sufficiently intelligent animal, not to mention fast, but the rider was still learning to control its sheer power and cat-like arrogance. 'No, I assure you it's this way,' the montiger sometimes seemed to say, steering with its own objective and only occasionally lenient to Daiv sitting helplessly on its back.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">To make matters worse, he'd had these many hours to think about what to say to the boatmen near the Floating Village, with nothing particularly useful coming to mind. We bring grave news that you're sitting on an enemy stronghold? We're not sure when but the monsters under the lake might attack?</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">All too late, he thought. Shortly they would be rounding the cliffs that went down to the boatman's hut on the shore.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">We'll be there very soon.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">***</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Hanging above the door to the entirely wooden, A-shaped inn was a sign declaring for itself “Bedbug's Bunk”, with happily sleeping insect included. Talon opened the door slowly and they tramped in, the door slamming hard in a sudden gust of wind. From here on the villagers were satisfied not to be in the storm that battered the little inn on the hill.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Inside was a typical central dining room, bereft of clientele apart from a couple in the corner who looked on edge and three wildly varying figures at one end, being tended to by a smartly dressed bartender. Talon ignored the nervous glance from the man in the corner, instead following Ferran to the bar.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Do we look intimidating?' he asked quietly, but the fisherman was too concerned with the trio before them. Immediately Talon recognised on the left the light brown coat and pompous hat that the Big Honch was wont to be seen in, but he couldn't pick the the others who faced away from them.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Ah, you've arrived,' the Honch said jovially. For this Talon immediately assumed that he was partially inebriated. 'Allow me to introduce you to our gracious transporters, Leyh and Ogard.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The youth turned to the others. Leyh must not have been much older than him, a woman with long, dark red hair and – for some reason – carrying a short bow on her back. She grinned with just a hint of power as he offered his hand.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Do you speak?' she said. 'Has a griphion got your tongue?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Talon,' he said, trying not to make eye contact.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Looks like we've got a mumbler here, Oge.' She nudged her companion.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The man was very tall and heavily built, wearing brown-green overalls. Opposed to Leyh, Ogard carried a round lute-like instrument. His grin was amiable enough to outshine the woman's sharpness and Talon's entire body went up and down with the goodwill of his handshake.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Oge doesn't say much either,' Leyh said, 'but don't get cocky and try to stop the train; that balalyre isn't just for show.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Ogard shrugged and Ferran introduced himself, likewise shaking with the musician's large-handed hello.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'So you're traders?' the fisherman asked. 'What's “the train”?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'That's what you call the three-limbed trade route from north of here, Niamyt and down to Carpol,' Leyh said without a pause. 'Most of the central Old Ryndians don't like selling to what they call rebel separatists, so we go the long way round, and then back over the mountains.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'They've offered to take us down through the country,' said the Honch. He began to feel the heat of Talon's gaze. 'What's your problem?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'You need to start telling us what you know about this invasion.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The intake of breath to their right was just audible.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'What invasion<span style="font-style: normal;">?' Leyh said.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> The Big Honch grabbed Talon by his ear and led him away from the bar.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> '</span><i>You </i><span style="font-style: normal;">have to know when to keep your mouth shut. Get upstairs and take the third room. Stay there until I or Ferran comes to get you.'</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> 'You're not my father,' the youth growled. 'I don't have to do what you say.'</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> Ferran's face appeared beside the Honch.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> 'Talon, you'd best get out of here.'</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> He nodded and the Honch let go of his ear. Turning back to the bar, the man said, 'silly boy. Don't know why he'd say something like that.'</span></div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6270079226181883536.post-79515894275372835682011-03-31T15:24:00.000-07:002011-07-14T17:52:34.472-07:00The Puppethead War #1<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: right;"><i><a href="http://slightlycrazymind.blogspot.com/2011/04/puppethead-war-2.html">Issue 2 > ></a></i></div><i>This series follows on from First Encounter, which you can access from the Puppethead Saga hub page. Please enjoy and feel free to comment or criticise.</i></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Amongst the charity buildings in the city's western quarter, Irena de Postrem awoke gasping for air. She called to her parents who arrived instantly at her side.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I had the dream again,' she said. Around her, other sleeping figures groaned or growled at the family for waking them.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Irena's mother spoke softly. 'Did you do what the apothecary said? The herbs to help you sleep?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'They don't do anything,' her father said, seeing Irena's expression in the dark and frowning. He hugged his daughter, rocking slowly as she sobbed into his woollen coat.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Why won't it go away?' the girl said, coughing weakly.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I can't fight them for you,' her father said. She stopped coughing and he held her out by the shoulders. 'You do know that it isn't real, don't you?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Irena shook her head and tears scattered to both sides. Her father hugged her again.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'There is no such thing as this “underwater city”.' He forced a chuckle. 'And there aren't any lake monsters.'</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">***</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Meanwhile, under the waters of the mountain lake, a man swum into a great submerged city. The place appeared to be writhing as various tentacular shapes glided through glowing doorways in the truly three-dimensional space, each following its own agenda.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Wearing an ancient buoyancy vest, mask and breather pilfered from the village of Yerz, the man approached a gigantic building engulfed by shadow. One of the startling shapes detached itself from the wall and lowered its head towards the nonplussed human, who then began to make noises that were only just audible in the watery gloom.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Go ahead, look at me like that,' he said. 'Your little mistake nearly cost us the whole operation. The village folk are preparing themselves!'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The figure above him, still half obscured by a massive shadow, bent down in supplication.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'The child was too strong and too dumb for its own good. You know that it could have been worse. If a human escaped with one of us... well, they would certainly stand out on the landscape more.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'The First didn't seem to mind, and he didn't even research his role, much like our recent dead failure,' said the man. Even in the muffled depths his tone of disappointment was apparent. 'I also went up of my own accord.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The hidden figure sounded shocked. 'Not everyone is willing to do what you did.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Regardless,' snapped the man, 'we must stop using youths as our vanguard. Phase two begins now.'</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">***</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I was thrown from the boat,' Ferran stopped for dramatic effect. 'I could feel something pulling me down into the dark depths of the lake, when suddenly I woke up in chains, and a body that was not my own.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The younger children on the floor of the town hall gasped.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'There were others nearby and the same had happened to them,' Ferran continued, 'but the nasty puppetheads had miscalculated. I knew I had to return to warn everyone, so I used all the strength I could and the shackles broke like paper!'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">This time they exhaled together. As Ferran pretended to swim through the air, Talon entered the back doors and leaned on the wall. He seemed taller than Ferran recalled, perhaps because since turning fourteen he had been standing straighter.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I reached the surface, but I couldn't enter the village in case there were other monsters...' the fishing teacher trailed off. 'That's all for today, kids!'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The children sighed despondently and began to disperse, while Ferran stood from his chair and walked towards Talon. The youth had noticed, over the week since their first encounter with the puppethead, that his teacher was moving generally slower than before. Maybe as a side effect of having been refused control over his body, the man was calculating every action carefully.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Come to report on the voluntary screenings?' he said.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The young fisherman was surprised. 'You don't remember that Daiv's heading off with the riders today?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Ferran looked puzzled for a moment and then a metaphorical light switched on. 'Yes, of course, the Floating Village.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Talon's concern was palpable. 'Alright then,' he said. 'As long as you're feeling okay, we'll get out there and see them off.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Don't talk nonsense, boy,' Ferran said. 'Man, I mean. Just a brain snap.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The two of them walked into the sunlight and towards the montiger kennels.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'So how are the screenings going?' said Ferran.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Slowly. Everyone wants to get quizzed at once, but there are families who haven't come back from the markets yet.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'You don't have any suspicions?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Well the Honch hasn't seen me since the incident.' The youth shrugged. 'From what he said it sounds like he knows something, but why would he bother to save us if he was working for the puppetheads?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'This is a tangled mess, Talon,' Ferran said. 'We can only hope that the report from the Floating Village will be good news. One last thing; do you remember who it was that found my body that night?'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Yes,' Talon said. 'It was Darrin. I think that maybe we should –'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Before he could finish speaking, they had come to the marshalling ground beside the kennel building. Four montiger riders including Daiv were packing up trail supplies for the trip around to the Floating Village.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Almost ready to go,' Daiv said when he saw them approach. 'I wish you guys could come, it's going to be a boring ride.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The two of the other riders looked at him with barely hidden disdain. The third was Darrin Sasket, who was old enough to remember when Ryndia had been a single country, and didn't pay the others any attention at all.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'These guys don't think I should go,' Daiv said in response to their glares. 'Apparently the Big Honch insisted that I join, since I was there when we got that puppethead out of you.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'You know I would go with you in an instant,' Talon said, 'but someone needs to warn the Overarchy and we're the only ones with first hand evidence.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Ferran lowered his voice. 'Do us a favour and keep an eye on Mr Sasket.' His tone of voice was deadly serious.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'Will do,' Daiv said without question. He swung himself into the saddle. 'See you guys in a week.'</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The riding party departed, their mounts bounding effortlessly towards the north reaching road.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">'I really want this feeling to be wrong,' said Talon.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Ferran raised the corner of his mouth. 'Ignore it for now and pack your things. We need to get going ourselves if we want to reach Arten tonight.'</div>Mitchell R. Akhursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03315777805666336784noreply@blogger.com1