CHAPTER 5
OUCH
Nothing is truly free. Every gift has a price, paid for by someone in coin, favors, expectations or goods.
Things get a little sticky when Life shows up wanting to collect on something you thought was free.
Always ask the price.
Wendell was standing at the bottom of a black well—the torches, for some reason, had gone out as they descended.
What was I thinking? Oh, yeah, Stupid. This is just a dream.
Dream or not—he didn’t expect all the lights to go out.
The torches were fewer and fewer as they reached the last step, being stingy with the light and keeping all the warmth for themselves.
Wendell wrapped his arms around his lean frame, rubbing his arms briskly to warm himself with the friction.
It was obvious no one had been to the bottom of the Key in ages. The last dozen steps and railing were entombed in a thick layer of stringy grey.
Maybe that’s why the lights dim - so nobody can see housekeeping hasn’t done their job?
Stale and musty, it even smelled old…and his nose wrinkled. Covering his mouth with his hand, Wendell fought the urge to cough as the thick dust stirred with each swish of the High Elder’s robe.
The High Elder walked slower as he left the steps, thoughtfully turning to face a dark archway underneath the stone staircase.
Wendell paused on the last step, admiring the curious, pale wood framing the archway. It had been carved to look like a pair of trees had grown up from the stone, entwining themselves as they stretched across the opening in the wall. The delicately small limbs fanned out to embrace the stone, weaving and wedging their way into the cracks of the masonry.
Desiring a closer look, Wendell stepped from the last stair and was instantly swallowed in darkness.
“Heeeey!” Wendell complained, hands groping in front of him.
“Shhh!” the High Elder hissed.
“Don’t shush me. It’s dark. Where’d the lights go?”
“Shhh!”
“Whatever,” Wendell sighed. He stood in place and resumed rubbing his arms.
It’s freaking cold down here!
“We must pass the sentry,” whispered the High Elder. “Remain still, young Wendell.”
“Sentry? As in a…guard? I don’t see anything,” he muttered.
“Be observant, my friend. And be very, very still.”
Startled by a sharp crack, Wendell flinched. Blue sparks jumped upward, followed by a soft, cold glow emitting from the top of a long, thin staff held in the High Elder’s hand.
“Cool,” Wendell drawled. “Wait, where’d you get that?”
The High Elder glared at Wendell, now, his brows furrowed in all seriousness. “Shhh!” he insisted.
Whatever.
Turning back to the archway, the High Elder stepped forward, holding out his free hand, palm up.
Wendell watched him for several moments, frozen in place, hand outstretched to the room…which seemed a bit—well, looney.
That all changed when, from the archway, a deep, rumbling growl rolled through the room.
Wendell’s stomach sank and he gulped. Blinking, his eyes darted about the room…but there was nothing. At least nothing he could see. W-what’s going on…?
The High Elder, still standing in the near center of the room, bowed, keeping his hand outstretched before him. “Dämä Omä, my brother,” he said softly, “I come with He who was spoken of. We seek permission to enter.”
Squinting, Wendell couldn’t see anything.
What is he doing….and WHO IS HE TALKING TO?? Even in the glow of the High Elder’s staff, there was no one there!
Trouble was, Wendell could
hear someone move.
…or something.
Whatever it was, it lurked in the shadows.
Wendell suddenly felt grateful the old man was in front of him. He resolved to not feel bad if he had to leave his imaginary host in the dust to be eaten by the unknown to save his own skin.
Another growl.
Blast it! Gotta adjust to this blasted darkness! Closing his eyes, Wendell silently counted to five, then slowly opened them once more. The light from the staff burned brighter, the shadows fading somewhat until he could make out the walls around him. There, now we can…
Then he saw it.
Well, sort of.
A warped shadow, swaying…just inside the tunnel.
For a moment, he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. In fact, Wendell wasn’t even sure he was looking at anything—but there was a flicker. Focusing on a single spot within the darkness, Wendell would catch a sudden blur of movement in his peripheral vision, but it would vanish as soon as he tried to focus on it.
Again, there was a deep rumbling, as if from within the chest of…something
huge.
Something
close.
“Hold perfectly still,” warned the High Elder intensely, the softer, “Keep your head
bowed.”
What is going on?! The self-preservation personality whispered inside his head.
How stupid ARE you, Wendell? Run, you idiot. RUN! Leave this old loon behind and RUN AWAY!! But the weighty apprehension of uncertainty glued Wendell’s shoes to the ground.
Maybe I’m safer behind the elder? If something tries to get me, I can always shove the old guy into my escape path before I make a run for it. Pause. Not…like I can be guilty of murder in a dream, right?
Something in his gut compelled him to obey the High Elder.
This time.
Moving through the dust in front of them, a chilling scrape across the stone caused Wendell to raise his eyes…just in time to see a massive paw mark, bigger than the whole of his chest, press through the grey layer of dust.
…then another.
Only closer.
Wendell suddenly had a desperate need to pee.
The prints stopped directly in front of the High Elder, who then calmly…stepped aside.
Oh, no, you don’t!
Without lifting his head, Wendell slid one foot over and then another until he was behind the High Elder again.
Wendell felt the rumble from the floor through his feet, causing his legs to quiver.
Surprised, the High Elder hissed, “What are you doing!?”
“It’s
my dream,” Wendell hissed back, “and
you’re expendable!”
The High Elder shifted once more.
Wendell followed suit—keeping the blue man as a meat shield in front of him.
The low growl seemed a little sharper, almost impatient, this time.
“Stop it!” the High Elder nearly shrieked. “You’ll anger him!”
Wendell shook his head, “Then stop
moving!”
In one stunning motion, the High Elder spun, positioning himself directly behind Wendell and pushing him forward, holding him firmly by the shoulders.
“Hey!…HEY!!” squeaked Wendell, struggling.
“Stay there!” the High Elder warned.
Wendell’s entire body convulsed in spasms as he heard…
something coming closer.
Why doesn’t anybody around here LIKE me?
Scccraaaape. Scccraaaape. Scccraaaape. Scccraaaape.
Wendell could see another paw print appear just inches from his own shoes. Though he felt like whimpering, he bit his own lip and simply trembled.
Like the sound of a dog sniffing an open hand, intermittent bursts of humid air hit Wendell in the chest—leaving his hair and face feeling damp. Gritting his teeth, he turned his head to the side, clenching his eyes tight and curling his toes within his shoes.
Please don’t eat me. Please don’t eat me. Please don’t eat me! AhhAHHHahhhh.
As he was being ‘sniffed’ it occurred to him that spending time with Dax might not be too frightening at this point.
With a mild bump…which nearly knocked Wendell over…the huge prints retreated in the dust.
Wendell gulped.
Is…that it? He opened his eyes, watching the prints appear to the side of the tunnel, where several small hanging oil lamps, dangling down its center, flickered to life.
See? That wasn’t so bad after all. I knew I could do it.
“Thank you, brother,” the High Elder smiled. “You have honored your covenant. We will keep our end of the agreement. May peace reign with you until your path ends.”
Erupting in a deafening roar, the Key exploded with dust and cobwebs.
“What’s happening?!?” Wendell screamed, stumbling backward against the wall.
The High Elder dashed to his side, raising an arm to shield his own face. “Prepare yourself!”
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