Jeddon Series - Escape by Zack A Tack, Beverley Boorer - HTML preview

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Chapter 5

Jed stumbled through the rocky terrain, heading for the inner swamp where thick, hot gases bubbled up and created havoc in the atmosphere. This was where the treacherous whirlwinds were born. They could go anywhere, but usually the heat had cooled and the gases dispersed by the time they were at the outer limits of the desert.  Even though he tried not to breathe too deeply, the gas made him feel nauseous and his head began to throb.

The guards in the first squad of sunflyers were either courageous or extremely foolhardy. They flew in after him, strafing the ground all around. But they could not see exactly where he was, for shaggy remnants of mist still lingered above the ground.

When they reached the swamp gas, four out of the six sunflyers crashed immediately and were swallowed whole by the thick, gurgling mud. The fifth was caught in a roaring whirlwind, spun up high and slammed down onto rocks with such force that it shattered into a zillion pieces along with its controller. The sixth vaporized in an exploding roar of flames.

After that no more sunflyers ventured over the Desert of Rocks. The foot soldiers would not venture in either. They had been warned from childhood to avoid the place.

Exhausted, Jed fell down in the shadow of a rock and finally drifted into an uneasy sleep. When he woke the suns were high overhead. He stumbled to his feet and went in search of water.

 He followed the map in his mind with no trouble, thankful that the information Zarine had given him was accurate. It led him straight to a small spring bubbling up between a tumble of sharp boulders. He drank thirstily, then looked around, hungry enough to eat a borjon.

Nearby, huge thorn plants gleamed yellow. Their trunks were gnarled and thick. Each had two flattened branches that soared skywards, but the whole plant was covered with sharp thorns longer than his fingers. The flesh of these plants was good to eat, but how on Jeddon could he get at it? He did not even have a knife.

He tried to knock the spines off with sharp stones, but succeeded only in scratching his hands. The pain was so severe he plunged his hands into the cold water of the spring.  That gave a small measure of relief. A movement caught his eye as he crouched there and he froze. A small, blue-ringed lizard darted out from under a rock, its tongue flicking in and out as it tested the air for movement. Lizards were not poisonous. If he could catch one…

He sat unmoving while the suns beat fiercely on his head. The lizard darted nearer, until it was poised at the edge of the spring. It dipped its head. Jed made a grab and soon held the wriggling reptile in his hand. Before he could change his mind, he snapped its neck.

He knew if he stopped to think about it, he would not be able to eat the thing, so he put it to his mouth and bit. Blood trickled down his fingers. He shuddered at the salty taste of the flesh, but kept chewing and then swallowed. Soon he had eaten all but the feet and the stomach that he had scraped out with his fingers. He was still hungry.

A sudden roar made him jump to his feet, expecting a sunflyer or hoverer to emerge from the distance. But it was a whirlwind that descended upon him, filling his mouth and nose with stinging particles of sand. Coughing and choking, he flung himself to the ground and buried his face in his arms. It passed quickly enough, the crazily dancing dervish of sand and rubbish swinging in an erratic pattern across the desert. Jed crawled back to the spring and splashed water over his face and eyes.

 Zarine had told him about the whirlwinds. What other dangers had she told him about? Carefully, he searched his knowledge. Truly, she had not given him much. Still, he would have been captured by now only for her, since neither guards nor soldiers dared to enter. It must be driving Vexson wild. The smile of satisfaction died as he remembered that her grandfather had lived here once. Did Vexson know that? If so, he could probably expect a visitor sometime soon.

Armed soldiers would doubtless be guarding the perimeters by now.  Maybe there was another way out. It was a perilous trek through the quicksands and mud to the interior, but he might be able to escape somehow from the far side. Quickly, he tore a strip from his tunic, bound it over his mouth and nose and approached the swamp. The gas still made him feel sick.

Carefully, he tested the first clump of sedge. The path through was clear in his mind, thanks to Zarine, but still, one wrong step and he’d be history. He glanced around to make sure there were no more whirlwinds imminent, then picked his way gingerly through the quicksand and mud. The suns were throwing long shadows by the time he jumped from the last tussock of sedge.

The inner lake was a desolate place. Ahead, bright orange forks of light speared silently down from the pall of fog – or gas – over the dark water. A dead branch that reached out eerily to the sky crumbled to dust as he brushed past. Dry, mud-encrusted sand crunched underfoot, sending up mushroom puffs of dust that clung to his clothes. The closer to the lake he walked, the lower the temperature dropped. Soon he shivered in the chilly air.

What had Zarine taught him about the lake? It was dangerous for some reason. Ah, yes - poisonous gonts lurked in the depths ready to strike. They had a nasty habit of shooting their long, thin tentacles out of the water to sting and kill unwary trespassers. But nothing disturbed the gleaming, gunmetal surface of the lake as he approached and he crouched down to drink. The icy water soothed his scratched hands immediately, but they had started to fester.  Zarine hadn’t told him the thorns were poisonous.

A black ribbon of weed floated nearby. Was it edible? He was about to scoop it up, then hesitated and plopped a pebble near it instead. It would pay to be careful in a place like this. The weed floated by in slow undulations. He thought the ripples of water were causing the movement until the end slid past. Was this a gont? If so, it was twice as long as he was tall.

Suddenly, a thin thread whipped out of the water in a wide arc. Jed threw himself backwards, but still the tail end slapped against his sleeve before it slipped back into the water. An oily, black mark stained the fabric.  He touched it gingerly with his finger. It stung like fire.

He swished his hand through the water, then hastily withdrew it and scrambled back from the edge. The gont could still be hidden in the mud, ready to lash out at him again. What agony a sting must cause.  Behind him, the Cliffs of Ebor soared skywards.  He turned to examine them, squinting against the low glare of the suns. 

 They were like a sea of black waves frozen hard and tipped up on an angle. Could he climb to the top, or would he fall into one of those deep troughs? Was there any way out once the top was reached? He doubted it. All he could see was another, higher cliff beyond it. That was certainly impossible to climb.

 He sighed. There was nothing here for him except more danger. He would return to the other side of the desert where there was fresh water to drink and lizards to eat; where it was safer.

Safer? He laughed harshly in the uneasy silence. It wasn’t much of a choice he had; to die here in the desert or to die at Vexson’s hands. The last choice would be more painful, but probably quicker.

He shook his head at such thoughts. There must be some way out. In the darkest part of the night, the soldiers would not be as alert. He would try to creep past them.  It was useless to remain in the desert any longer. Soon it would be dark. He didn’t want to spend the night here in the cold. If he hurried, he could regain the other side before darkness hid the pathway.  With a last glance at the lake, he pushed his mask back over his nose and faced the swamp

On the return journey, weariness almost caused him to stumble into the quicksand several times. Relieved to reach the end, he leaped over the last gap to solid ground and followed the path to the spring. The journey had made him thirsty.

Of course, he was hungry too, but that could not be helped. There would be no lizards until heat from the suns had warmed the rocks.  Pity the moons weren’t warm. Shivering, Jed wiped a trickle of water from his chin and pulled up the collar of his jacket. He curled up near the spring and eventually fell into the uneasy half-sleep that danger had taught him. A half-sleep that made him roll quickly away from the shadow looming above, almost before he sensed any real danger.

Jed sprang to his feet and stepped back.

“One more backward step will put you into quicksand,” the figure warned.

Jed froze. “You - must be Dirnll. What are you doing here?”

“I see my granddaughter taught you well, since you are still alive.” The black-caped figure subsided slowly onto the ground and bent briefly over the spring. “Zarine has been imprisoned. Her brother – damn him to the dungeons – saw fit to report her.”

The old man’s voice trembled, though whether from sorrow or rage, Jed could not tell.

“I was also kept for some time, but they released me. I came to you for help. You must save Zarine.”

 “What can I do?” Jed demanded. “I’ve been driven into this place like a feral! There is no way out! I am unarmed!”

“I can show you a secret way out over the Cliffs of Ebor.”

Jed frowned. Had a cunning expression just flitted over Dirnll’s face – or was it a trick of the moonlight?

“I know those who are loyal to your father,” Dirnll went on. “They will help you.”

“Why didn’t you go to them for help?”

“Would they help me? I am not Prince of Jeddon.” Dirnll paused. “Most believe you are dead. Vexson only tells what he wants them to hear.”

“Does Zarine also believe me dead?”

“No. She has unusual faith in your powers of survival – or her own teachings. Had she known what she was really sending you to -” Dirnll shook his head.  “Even I doubted you could survive in this place.”

“Yet you lived here for years, or so Zarine said.”

“I was born to it. I even like the place.”

“Why did you leave?”

Dirnll’s laugh was a dry, whispery sound. “I met Zarine’s grandmother. After that, there was always someone to care for.” He peered at Jed in the dim light cast by the moons. “You have the look of hunger, boy. Did not Zarine tell you about the flesh of the thorn plants?”

“She did, but not how to get past the thorns. Rocks are not sharp enough and I have no knife.”

“No doubt you scratched your hands trying.” Dirnll thrust a hand into his pocket and tossed Jed a wildfruit. “In the morning I’ll show you how to heal them.  I will give you much knowledge…in the morning.” He pulled his cape around him and curled up on the hard ground.

Jed munched hungrily on the wildfruit as he watched Dirnll sleep. How could he trust the old man? There were too many ways in which Dirnll could betray him. Even though he desperately needed a friend, he must remember to be wary always. He spat out the last bit of wildfruit husk and crept silently away to find a hidden sleeping place.

 When he woke, dawn had paled the sky. He rubbed his eyes and returned to the spring, where Dirnll had just lassoed the branch of a nearby thorn plant.

“They snap easily,” he explained, as it thudded to the ground. “Smaller plants can even be pulled out by the roots with a rope.”

Jed approached slowly. Dirnll scooped up the sticky, yellow sap that oozed from a broken edge.

 “This will heal your hands. You must trust me if we are to work together to free Zarine,” he added, as Jed hesitated.

Slowly, Jed held out his hands while Dirnll spread sap over the festering sores.

“By this evening the thorns on this branch will have softened. Then we’ll be able to pluck them out easily and feast on the inner flesh. Meanwhile, we can go to the inner lake.”

 “I’ve been there already,” Jed told him. “The way is hard and leads to nothing but cold and danger.”

“You’re wrong. The rewards of the journey are great. Many fat, tasty beetles live by the lake.” Dirnll chuckled hoarsely at the look on Jed’s face. “There is much you need to learn. Sit here and I’ll give you my knowledge. It will be quicker and more accurate for our minds to join.”

 They settled into the correct position, facing each other with their legs crossed. Hesitantly, Jed placed his hands on Dirnll’s shoulders where the silver lines of kinetic energy met. But his mind cried out against such close contact. It could be dangerous. He could be caught.

  Dirnll’s hands slid slowly from Jed’s wrists to his shoulders. This was the way the power flowed, from the elder to the younger. Dirnll began the chant of relaxation, but it was a long time since Jed had been able to relax.

“I’m ready,” he said at last, striving to open his mind.

“You are still tense. It will be painful.”

“No matter; I’m used to pain.”

But mental pain was different to physical pain and Jed fell back with a cry as their minds touched.

  “There is time yet,” Dirnll said, when he had recovered. “When you learn to trust me -”

“How can I trust a stranger when my own uncle has betrayed me? You could be Vexson’s ally since Zarine is imprisoned because of me.”

“She is imprisoned because of her brother,” Dirnll said shortly. “Come. We’ll go to the inner lake.”

 Jed followed Dirnll along the maze of pathways where one misstep would cause death. Many brown tufts of matted vegetation looked solid until Dirnll pressed on them with his staff. Then they disappeared with a gurgle into the quicksand. The gas whirled around them.

“How did you first learn the paths?” Jed coughed and pulled his mask on. “The quicksand allows no mistakes. Not even the mud is stable.”

“The knowledge was passed on to me by my father, and to him by his father. So it has always been.” Dirnll balanced easily on a solid tuft. “See the cliffs? They look impossible to climb, but just like this swamp, they too, have their secret paths.”

Jed looked across at the shiny, blackstone cliffs. From here they looked even more formidable. Was it truly possible to climb them?

Silently, he followed Dirnll over the last of the swamp. He would need to feel a lot stronger than at present to think of making such a journey.

The gas and the heat had made him feel sick and he welcomed the colder air around the lake. Soon, he would be cold enough to shiver.