“Greetings,” the man said. “My name is Daree’. I am governor of the eastern territory.” He put his paper aside and removed his spectacles. He stared at Nola with intensity. Nola, feeling uncomfortable under the weight of the stare, shifted her gown and averted her eyes. She was relieved when he turned his eyes to Mich.
“So, Prince Michael, it has come to my attention that you are in need of our help and I in need of yours.” His staring dark eyes became slits and his voice was excited as he leaned forward so that his guests could hear him better. “The Fren have destroyed two of my villages and have repeatedly burned up our crops. With no food to export, our people cannot continue to produce and we will become too poor to feed our children.”
Daree’ leaned back and quieted himself; he was becoming angry to the point of losing his dignity. “Therefore, I shall offer what little I have left to you. As you know, my people like to keep their distance from other humanoids, but in a dire case like this, exceptions must be made, and in this circumstance,” he looked again at Nola, “I believe that I have nothing to fear.”
Daree’ stood up and put his spectacles back on. “My army will be waiting for you at the Shattered-Glass Glade.” He skirted the desk to open the chamber door. He held the door open for them to pass through it. Before they exited the chamber he said, “I will make the arrangements tonight, but it will take some time. After dinner, you must travel on with this woman.” He gestured to Nola. “Get to the Source and destroy the dam. Our world and hers depends on it.”
“The palace thanks you for your help, Daree’,” said Mich. He bowed and left the old man to his reading.
Mich and Nola stayed almost until nightfall. They were served a feast of piglets and luberry cake. Nola wasn’t fond of the idea of eating piglets, but she tried them and decided the taste wasn’t too bad. She just had to imagine them in some other way, lest she toss her “cookies” and humiliate herself.
After dinner, Greyden suggested they get going before moonrise. The Fren were diurnal creatures, so it would be safest that they travel by night. At this hour, the Fren would be resting and it would not be likely that they would run into them.
Snort, Heat, and Spirit were waiting anxiously for them just south of the town, right where expected. Once together again, Mich looked at the map and instructions that Madrid left him. They must continue southward along the river. It would lead them past the newly established Fren Cliffs and into the most dangerous place in Kafka, the Forget Mists, where they were to meet someone who could help.
The group traveled most of the night unmolested along the river. They reached the Fren Cliffs a few hours before dawn.
What a forbidding and ominous place it was! Mich and Nola were very nervous as they walked below the towering cliffs. They seemed to rise forever through the early morning mists. Their faces were covered with small dark caves. The area smelled awful. They walked close to the cliff walls and finally made it through to the meadow beyond.
Nola stopped and breathed, it seemed, for the first time. “Couldn’t we just have flown over this region?” she inquired plaintively. “Or around it?”
“No. The cliffs rise forever and it is impossible to go around without being captured by guards.”
Spirit suggested that they mount and ride from here to the sea and the Forget Mists.
“What a disgusting place!” Nola said, mounting Spirit.
Yes, it is, Spirit agreed.
“Who would have dreamed up a place like that?” she asked.
I don’t think it is a dream, Spirit thought. No one really knows who the Fren are, but I think that they are the leftovers of good dreams that were not forgotten, but destroyed. I felt nothing there but hate and regret.
“Destroyed by whom?”
Probably just someone who doesn't care about whose dreams he has to step on to push his reality on others.
At that moment, Snort growled menacingly and blew some steam through his nostrils.
“What’s wrong?” Mich asked.
Heat translated for him, He said he smells something.
“Is it a Wood Troll?”
No, it smells sweet and delicious.
Mich wondered if it was some kind of food. “Well? What is it, Snort?”
A nymph. More specifically, a Foliar Nymph.
Now Mich knew exactly what Snort had smelled. No wonder it excited him so much. “It’s just a foliar nymph,” he relayed to the others.
“Oops!” Nola said.
Mich turned and looked at her. “Don’t tell me!” He put his hand over his brow and shook his head. “You created the plant nymphs as well?”
Nola shrugged. She wondered how closely it would resemble her dream nymphs. In her dreams, they’d appear occasionally when she was lost. They helped her to find her way, though they were often unreliable and flighty. The strangest thing was that they spoke as if they knew everything about everything.
Spirit scuffed his hoof through the grass as a form appeared out of the dim morning light. It was a small woman, about four feet tall. There was no doubt she was a woman, for she was very well endowed. Her slender torso was scantily covered in blue flower petals. Her green hair grew down to her ankles and matched her pale green skin. Her tiny feet were covered in white blossoms that matched the color of her milky eyes. She resembled one of Nola’s dream nymphs exactly.
She approached Spirit and looked up at Nola, who felt so small and delicate from atop Spirit’s huge body.
“Creator,” she said sweetly, “why are you going this way?”
“Madrid told us that we must,” Nola replied, somehow not surprised to be recognized in this manner. Mich had known her immediately, on Earth, and Heat had recognized her nature in Kafka. Apparently there was something about her, and it wasn’t the constrictive dress.
“But, Creator, there is no need.”
“But the map says that we have to fly through the Forget Mists across the sea to some island where we are supposed to meet someone who can help us.”
The little nymph laughed musically and her eyes shone bright with mirth. “Dear girl! I am the one who is to meet you. Don’t you know you can never go into the mists? You would be Forgotten! If that happened,” she spread her hands, “this wonderful world would be gone.”
“Well, what do we do?” Nola asked, uncertain whether it was wise to go against the sorceress’s instructions on the word of a stranger. Yet this was definitely a nymph of the type she had dreamed of. Maybe Mich had misunderstood the note.
The nymph stroked Snort’s neck and looked thoughtful. “Madrid sent you to me because we know the ways of dreamstone. Our ancestors mined it from the land. However, we are not sure ourselves how to deal with such a problem.”
Snort was enjoying her caresses and didn’t hide it. The small dragon was now rolling onto his back like a kitten. Nola already knew that though Snort loved attention, he was choosy about whom it came from. The nymph must be all right.
“You understand,” the nymph continued, “that dreamstone is indestructible.”
Mich was becoming impatient. “Of course we know that! What do we do, then? Is there some other way we can let the river flow freely again?”
“There is a way, but it is so very difficult. The human girl must destroy the dam herself.” The nymph turned her white eyes to look at Nola. “She must disbelieve the stone.”
The group looked at one another. “But how?” Nola pleaded. “How can I disbelieve what plainly exists?”
“As I’ve said, it is difficult. There are others who dream of dreamstone and one type is even linked to the great dragon, Kafka himself, and cannot be destroyed by anyone, living or not. I believe you wear such a stone. We are doomed if the dam is made of this type. But if it is ordinary dreamstone, you can do it. You must simply not believe it exists. Or, even better, Forget it.”
“Do you have an idea what type it is made of?” Mich asked.
“No one knows because no one has ever even seen it. It is loca
ted at the source. No one can find it, let alone destroy it.”
“We will handle it,” Nola said optimistically, though inside she was trying to digest a bolus of doubt. “Just tell us how to reach the source.” Yet, paradoxically, she felt suddenly strong. She figured that she was responsible for the rescue of this vast world and she had better get some control of the situation.
“Just follow the river. There is one area, past the Shattered-Glass Glade, where you can reach the source by sleeping in the river. It is guarded by a winged hippocampus. Just utter my name before you enter the water and it will leave you alone.”
“But you haven’t told us your name,” Nola protested.
“You did not ask.”
Nola took a deep breath. “What is your name?”
The nymph smiled. “My name is Violet.”
Then, for a moment, the little nymph had a look of confusion on her pretty face as if she was forgetting something. The moment passed and her face returned to its bright state. She curtsied and prepared to leave. But then paused. “By the way, in respect for Kafkian security, if or when you return to this side of Kafka, you will forget the location of the gateway to the source and you won’t remember, even if you stumble into it again, unless I tell you where it is. I think that’s the rule.”
Again, she seemed to hesitate. She shrugged her shoulders and with that she turned and disappeared as quickly as she had appeared.
Nola stared after her. What a curious encounter!
Mich smiled at Nola. “I know you can do it,” he said supportively. “You’re the best. After all, you created me.”
Nola laughed at his immodesty. She kicked her feet a little to alert Spirit, and he turned tail and leaped into the sky, following the river.
Mich followed beside her and Snort also took to the air, but was quickly left behind, again.
Nola hung on, reveling in the wonderful flight through the morning air. The landscape spread out below them like a richly variegated tapestry. She wished she could identify specific places, but she just wasn’t familiar enough with this region to get properly oriented. Still, it was a phenomenal experience, no matter where they were.
They flew on for hours and covered much territory before Heat began to tire. He seemed to have gained strength now that his friend was with him once again. Spirit also was feeling strain in his wing muscles, though he could fly on if necessary.
The day was beginning to lose light. Esprit and Heat were both exhausted. They were strong animals, but both had limits. Nola realized with a start that this meant that they had been flying all day. It had seemed like only an hour or so to her.
They were still not yet in sight of the glade, but they landed to rest and wait for Snort to catch up. When the little dragon did, Snort galumphed over to Mich and snorted a puff of steam at him. He was angry for always being left behind.
Night had fallen and the unisi could no longer navigate by land. Unfortunately, the sky was overcast and dark. No hope there; they would have to camp, which was just as well.
They found a spot that was fairly clear of big rocks and sprinkled with soft grasses. Nola was still a bit shy around her dream man, but Spirit wanted to graze, so she was forced to choke back her shyness and lie down with Mich. The nights could be cold in Kafka, and Mich’s strong body should help keep her warm and safe.
Nola was very tired. So much had happened. She wondered how her ornery cat was doing and hoped that Lori would stop by, as promised, and feed her. Since Snort was doing well enough, considering, she thought Kudo must be all right too.
Despite Mich’s closeness, the chill air made Nola shiver next to him. Mich covered her with the blanket he was using in lieu of a saddle. It smelled of sweat and horsehair, but it was warm. He put his arm over her shoulder.
As Mich held Nola’s small body, he knew it would be only a matter of time before he lost his senses and fell for her. The Sorceress Madrid had predicted it. He hoped he could complete his mission before thoughts of love clouded his mind. He was king now and he had to prevail, for the sake of his people and for his father.
Nola snuggled closer. His arms were strong and secure. He was so like the man in her dreams; how could she ever have thought he wasn’t? She wished she could lose herself in those green eyes forever, but that was ridiculous. She barely knew him. Or did she?
Again she experienced the strange sensation of conscious sleep. Her body was relaxed and numbed while her mind wandered over die day’s events, fully aware of the sounds and smells of the night.
Yet at the same time, it seemed like such a waste. Here she was with the whole night to pass away, unsleeping, in the arms of her dream man—and they were doing nothing but just lying here? She could think of a thousand things to make the time pass swiftly and pleasurably. Well, one thing, anyway. But until he thought of it, she wasn’t about to suggest it. A girl just didn’t in a situation like this.
In the morning, Mich got up early and picked fruit. He lay a large pile of it next to Nola. The fruit looked like oranges with green spots. These were more like it!
She tasted one. It was just like an orange. She ate two of them and discovered underneath a small pile of mushrooms. She ate those too, sure that Mich wouldn’t pick poisonous ones. Wouldn’t do to wipe out a Creator before the job was done, after all! They were sort of squishy and slimy, but they tasted okay.
Snort was busily crunching on some small animal that he had hunted down, and Heat was plucking leaves from the orange tree.
Spirit trotted over to where Nola was standing. I smell something foul, he thought urgently.
Nola, feeling his distress, conveyed the information to Mich.
“Heat smells it too. What is it, friend?” Mich asked, patting Heat’s nose.
I can’t place it. I haven’t smelted anything this grotesque in ages, Heat replied.
Mich could smell it too now. The aroma of mud and rotting flesh. Every second the foul odor grew stronger. Then they heard a low, rumbling noise. Soon everyone was attuned to it. It was coming toward them.
“What is it?” Nola asked, alarmed.
“I’m not sure,” Mich confessed. He glanced at the unisi, but they did not seem to recognize it either.
Mich and Nola stumbled as the ground moved beneath them with the force of a small quake. The stench burned their eyes, and the source of it appeared at their feet.
The rocky ground was cracked open and an enormous, wormlike head poked through the rubble.
Its breath was that of carrion that had been slightly cooked with sulfur gas. It was slimy pink and had thorny protrusions, sort of like a spiked collar, around a bulbous head. It had no visible eyes or nose. Inside the mouth was a tube. It was lined, all the way down the throat, with sharp, backward-pointing teeth.
It struck out at Nola, who reflexively tried to punch it. Her fist squashed into the thing’s head and slurped as she pulled it back out. No damage showed on the creature, but Nola’s hand was covered with putrid goo.
Heat dashed it with his chrome hooves and skewered it with his long horn, but they simply squashed through it with a sickly sound and the hole left by the horn immediately healed over. Without, however, abating the festering stink.
“Enough!” Mich cried. He valiantly unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the worm’s head. The worm seemed unconcerned and did not even turn its head toward him.
Instead, it opened its mouth and stuck out a red tongue. The tongue was ropelike, and it wrapped about Nola’s legs and pulled her down. Nola screamed and struggled uselessly. Some Creator she was! She was about to be eaten by a miasmic worm!
Mich brought down the sword and separated the worm’s massive head from its neck. Purple slime spilled out. The body and severed head writhed and formed two new worms, each smaller but every bit as awful as the first. The second worm lashed another tongue around Nola’s arms and waist and began pulling her into its tunnel.
Mich could do nothing but watch. The worms seemed to have the same p
ower as the Wood Trolls. If he tried to cut the worm again, it would only form two more and that would just make it easier for them to drag her in. He felt more helpless now than ever. How could he leave her to creatures like that? She was too nice a girl to be killed by a giant worm. He had to rescue her! Quite apart from the fact that his mission and the salvation of Kafka depended on her. He couldn’t afford to let it happen.
That helped get his inadequate mind operating. “Snort! Follow them! Scorch their tails!” he yelled.
The brave little basilisk slithered down the tunnel after the worms. Mich followed into the dark tunnel on his hands and knees, leaving Heat and Spirit outside. The hole was small, and crawling was difficult. The tunnel wound down steeply, and in a moment it was dark.
The tunnel ahead was lit momentarily as Snort scorched the worms’ tails. More rancid fumes wafted toward Mich’s nose. In the glow, he could see that Snort’s fire did little to stop the worms. They didn’t even seem to notice.
Farther in the tunnel, Mich could walk. The tunnel continued to wind into the ground, corkscrewlike. He followed Snort by holding on to his tail because it was too dark to see. The floor of the tunnel was slippery, probably from the slime of the worms. The smell was so awful that Mich could barely breathe. He could hear Nola’s faint sobs and that gave him strength to withstand the smell and press on.
Abruptly, Snort halted. Mich wondered why his pet had stopped, as he could hear the worms slurping on down the tunnel. Too bad he couldn’t talk to Snort the way he talked to Heat.
He tugged the tail gently. “What’s going on? Give me a little light.”
Snort lit the tunnel with a tiny flame, enough to see by but not enough to call attention to them.
Ahead, there was a huge cavern with alternating tunnels and round doors. He could see the worms dragging Nola through one of the doors and into a small room. They cast her down and nudged the door closed, making her a lone prisoner. It seemed they weren’t going to eat her just yet; she would keep until they finished whatever other business they had.