The Winter Letter (21 page)

“What? What is it?” Gatnom asked, clearly concerned.

Tselem’s eyes narrowed. “We are discussing the Amokians. They are bound to the spirit that once possessed the witch years ago. They have never extended so far from the caves. There’s something strange going on for them to venture that far out. The spirit may have moved.”

“What do you mean? Has the spirit of the witch returned?” Gatnom asked.

“It never left. It just moved to a different host. But one thing is certain, the Amokians are still under the spell which enrages and binds them. It could be it is gaining power through someone new, but this conversation must wait. We must go; time is passing too quickly.”

The three magi mounted the three Lions and the beast ran upwards and westwards as fast as they could. Once they crossed a certain height the air turned cool, and before long patches of snow were spread sporadically. Soon, the snow seemed not only to be falling from the sky, but to be growing from the ground as well. The mountains raised far above the low narrow pass on both sides, their peaks disappearing into the dark clouds. Will shivered hard, remembering the last time he had seen snow. The next morning found the travelers shivering at the highest point of the lowest pass through the eastern range of the Sudden Peaks. Other than the cold and the threat of the peaks descending, there was no danger here. No animal or bird or person dared to live or venture into this place of instability. Only a few plants sprouted here and there where the ground was not covered in snow. Not much could survive the long hours of freezing in contrast with the sudden change to the humid underground air. The only inhabitant of this land was snow, and he was a most inhospitable host. Around midday the band of travelers trekked beyond uphill to downhill, and soon, in the distance, smoke could be seen from the valley separating the Sudden Peaks into East and West. 

Again, the ground shook. 

“Mr. Will, I hope we’re close,” said Jabber from beneath Will’s coat. “It sounds like before, when the peaks rose.”

“No worries Jab,” replied Gatnom. “We can see the smoke ahead. We’re very close.”

“I wonder how high we are. The smoke looks thin,” said Wohie.

“I’m not sure, but we’ll be okay,” Gatnom answered. “Let’s just keep moving.”

And so they pressed on, bobbing to the left and right with the Lion’s moderate gait, until they came to a sudden drop off. The three peeked over the edge of the cliff. The fall was almost vertical, with small ledges (just large enough for one person) protruding every fifty feet or so. “What now?” Will asked.

“You must climb down,” Tselem answered.

“Can’t we wait?”

“No. If the peaks fall while you are here you will be sucked underground. You must climb quickly, the peaks seem to be growing unstable.”

“Is this where we part company?” asked Gatnom.

“Yes, young magi. Stay on the path of your quest. Don’t let your eyes be lured to the left or right. Stay focused.” 

“Will we see you again?”

“I sense we shall,” Radah answered.

The three young magi dismounted and said their goodbyes. Tselem, Parah, and Radah turned upwards towards the tip of the Eastern Peaks. One second they were walking slowly in silent conversation, the next all three had sprouted wings and soared away until they were out of sight.

“That would have been easier than climbing down,” Will said. 

“Until you fell,” joked Wohie. “But still, they are awesome, aren’t they?”

“Indeed,” said Gatnom. “These are the beings that once filled Baru before the witch. I’d always heard of them, but mostly thought they were just a myth.” 

The team watched the empty sky until the ground shook again. 

“Are you guys ready for this climb?” Wohie said just as the eagles faded out of sight. “It shouldn’t be that hard, not with magic.”

Will peaked over the edge. “Sure,” he said chuckling. “I mean it’s only like a thousand foot fall to our deaths.”

“Don’t worry Willy, I’ll catch ya if ya slip!” Wohie said, punching Will in the arm. 

Will growled playfully at her. He didn’t mean it, not anymore. “Gatnom,” he said. “Since I came here it’s been one thing after the next. It feels like something on TV man.”

“TV? What’s that?” Wohie asked.

“Yeah, Mr Will? Who’s
TV
?” Jabber added.

“It’s like a box, with pictures in it that move. Kinda like a book... with a cord.”

“Huh?”

“Oh forget it, it’s too hard to explain,” Will answered. “You guys ready?”

Jabber, Gatnom, Will, and Wohie all peeked over the edge one last time. “It really is a long ways,” Gatnom said.

“Not for you, you big Giant!” laughed Wohie. “Should I go first? Or are ya scared?”

“I’ll lead... shorty,” Gatnom said with a wink. “You follow and try to keep up. Will, you come last.”

The climb was hard and blind. Will learned to use his legs more than his arms and double kick every rock to be sure of its holding. After a slight stumble too close to one of the ledges he learned to only drop when the distance was just higher than he was tall. Jabber buzzed from person to person, encouraging them to keep at it. In a little over two hours they had made it nearly half the distance to the valley. 

Then the unthinkable happened. Wohie was half way down, humming a tune to herself, when she lost her footing on a loose stone. “Gat!!!” she screamed. Will looked down and saw Wohie dangling from a boulder.

“Hold on! I’m coming!” Gatnom yelled from below. He was already climbing up twice as fast as he had come down. 

“Gat! The rock is slipping!” Wohie cried. “Hurry! I can’t hold on. What are the falling spells?! How do I stop a fall?!”

At that moment a few pebbles fell on the rocks next to Will. Shielding his eyes to the sun he looked up. He had to squint against the sunlight, but then slowly, as his eyes adjusted, he recognized the shadow staring down at them. Lord Andrias, the spy. “Gatnom! Look!” he screamed. He didn’t know whether to keep climbing down, stop, or what. Gatnom paused quickly and looked up towards Will. His face changed.

“Gat, I’m slipping! I don’t remember the falling magic, how do I stop a fall?! What do I do?!”

“Imagine yourself swimming! Use words to thicken—” Gatnom shushed as the boulder slipped from its lodging and Wohie fell. She drifted out and away from the cliff, far beyond the reach of the next ledge and every other below it. Gatnom set his feet and prepared to jump. If he could catch her he could slow their fall with magic. Jabber had flown down and was pulling at Wohie with all his butterbug strength, flapping his wings faster than he ever had before, but he slowed her fall none. 

“Gatnom!!!” screamed Will. 

Gatnom glanced up just in time to see Lord Andrias swan dive from the top of the cliff. As he fell the dark knight straightened himself into a spear aimed directly at Wohie. He fell faster than gravity, pushing himself forward, flying not falling, with both arms stretched downwards at a point (the tip of the spear). With one arm the knight snatched Wohie out of mid air, then with perfect grace he spun until he and Wohie were right side up. Slowly the two stopped falling, until they were hovering just out of diving reach of Gatnom. Wohie was trying to struggle, but was held with the strength of an angel, her mouth muffled by Andrias’s free hand.

“Please,” Gatnom pleaded, “don’t hurt her.”

The spy said nothing. There was no twitch or move of his eyes, and his expression remained a mystery behind his black mask. All he did was turn, rearrange Wohie in one arm, and begin to fly across the valley. 

“No! Please!!!” Gatnom screamed.

A few minutes later, Will and Gatnom watched helplessly as Lord Andrias Shielder, the black spy of King Mel, disappeared with Wohie into the clouds above the Western Sudden Peaks. Jabber came huffing back a little later. He had attempted to follow, but only fell further and further behind. The spy was flying towards the City of Neba, The Silver City… 

The City of the King.

Twenty
The Valley and Plains

Will and Gatnom made it to the valley just as the peaks fell violently into the ground. The valley dwellers were waiting to welcome them when they arrived. They had somehow already received a message that some young travelers were on the way and they would need rest. Gatnom had been quiet since Wohie was taken, so quiet Will felt the need to help him talk. Gatnom, however, did not want any help. He just wanted to figure out what to do. He wandered somewhere deep inside himself, swam in regret, explored confusion, and beat his fist on walls of guilt that should never have blocked the path. His sorrow was a cave, and in it he didn’t know which way was up or down. 

Will soon gave up trying and decided to try and talk with the inhabitants of the valley. Perhaps he could arrange travel to the city. They
had
to keep going, now more than ever.

The small village lay quietly in the dip between the Eastern and Western ranges of the Sudden Peaks. But it wasn’t the type of quiet village like you may think. It was quiet because everyone was busy working to build or thinking up one of the many homemade contraptions spread about everywhere. In one place a giant wheel spun around and around, pushed by water from a mountain stream. The turning turned another wheel, that turned another, and another until cold water turned warm. Will couldn’t figure out how it worked, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. He washed his face and hands, then his face again. He hadn’t felt warm water but once since he left home.

“Do you have a shower?” Will asked one of the short village kids following him around. The kids looked at Will and scratched their heads. So, Will explained what a shower was. The group gathered and listened closely. They seemed intrigued at the idea of water falling from above. They mumbled amongst themselves in a slightly different dialect than that of Gatnom and Wohie, then all at once they scurried away excitedly.

“This place is strange, Jab,” said Will.

“It is? It seems kinda familiar to me,” the Butterbug answered.

A few minutes later Jabber flew off to explore the bushes, and a tiny lady, just taller than Will’s waist, approached. She led Will into the cluster of houses and showed him to a room where water flowed through clear pipes to a basin that looked like a porcelain horse trough. It reminded Will of a bathtub, except it was square and not made to sit in. The trough, the walls, and the floors were all made with the same shiny white and blue tile as the tub. The little old lady took one of the small buckets floating in the basin, filled it with water, and dumped it on the floor. Then, she took another bucket full and tossed it on the wall. The message was clear: get everything wet.

After the lady left, Will took a bucket and dumped it over his head. The warmth fell into him, temporarily washing away his worries. Each splash erased another bad memory. It was intoxicating, an escape for the moment, the most powerful simple pleasure he had experienced since his adventure began. By the time he was done, the walls, floor, door, and even the small window for light too high to reach were all drenched. Afterwards Will was shown to a room. 

“This room is just for sleep,” the old woman said as she ushered Will inside. In the middle of the room was a bed with a wide canopy (a few feet wider than the bed itself). The canopy’s center was attached to the ceiling and stretched up to a point. The air in the room was much cooler than outside, with just the right amount of warmth mixed in; like a hot fudge sunday, and it was dark enough to be peaceful without being mysterious, like before sunrise. Will followed the lady across a raised trail of flat stones (each raised a half foot or so above the floor) and laid down. He stared up through the thin cloth of the canopy cover. Although there was material between him and the ceiling, it was almost completely transparent. The ceiling was blue black and bumped right into the four navy blue walls. To Will, it felt like he was staring up into the night sky.

“Do you like rain?” the lady asked.

“Yes ma’m,” he said. He was understating; warm rain was one of his most favorite things.

“Good,” she said as she turned to leave the room.

“Ma’am?”

“Yes?”

“Can you check on my friend. He’s really upset.”

“I’ll go check right now. You sleep. You’ve had quite a long journey.” And with those words she shut the door. 

Will laid back. His shoulders ached; his fingers were throbbing; and his neck was tight from hard travel. Never had he thought he’d be caught up in such an adventure, although before now he had wished it, back when he had no idea what he was wishing for. Stories like these are only good after there is a happy ending, but this was real life, where happy endings are not promised. Will figured that was why some stories ended sad, to remind us how the sour last pages are just as real as the sweet ones. A drop of water fell from the ceiling and hit the canopy. It ran down the arched cloth and dripped from the side. Then another drop fell, and another, until a steady shower came from the dark ceiling, streaming steadily to the ground, puddling up around the raised stones, soaking everything but Will and his bed. Not one drop leaked through the canopy. Above, through the shower, small lights flickered from somewhere deep in the black ceiling. It did not take long watching the stars and listening to the rain for Will to fall asleep without knowing he had. 

The next morning he woke to a light drizzle and Jabber pulling at his earlobe. “Wake up, Mr. Will. We need to go check on Mr. Gatnom.”

As soon as Will slung his feet over the edge of the bed the rain stopped. A few minutes later he found Gatnom admiring a contraption that looked like a giant shiny egg, with a chair hollowed out in the middle.

“What’s this?” Will asked.

Gatnom looked at Will and smiled. His eyes were still tired, but he was rested and ready. The worry remained, but was no longer in control. “It’s a strange bit of magic. Well, the villagers swear it’s not magic at all, but I’m not so sure. I spent the night in it.”

“In
that
? Doing what?”

“They said it was to help me sort through my thoughts. It works too.”