Midnight at the Well of Souls

EKH’L

The Diviner and The Rel and the Slelcronian in Vardia’s body surveyed the towering, snow-capped mountains ahead of them.

The mountains, majestic and all-encompassing, ran right to the sea. A small beach was visible, composed of blackish sand. Out into the water they could see sea stacks, the remnants of long-extinct volcanic activity. The sky was a leaden gray, and the air was terribly cold off the ocean.

“Clouds will be moving in soon,” Hain remarked behind them. “Rain or snow likely all along the beach. We’d better get started.”

“Can we make it without going into the mountains?” the Slelcronian asked apprehensively. “What if we run out of beach?”

“Friend Hain, here, can cling to the sheer walls if necessary,” The Rel replied confidently, “and she can ferry us around that way. No, this looks like rough, slow going but it’s one of the easiest steps. The border with Yrankhs is just a few meters beyond the waterline, so we’re not likely to meet the denizens of Ekh’l—a kind of flying ape, I believe. The Yrankhs are not ones we’d like to meet—flesh-eaters all—but they are water-breathers and not likely to bother us unless we decide to swim.”

“The fog’s coming in,” Skander noted. “We’d better get going.”

“Agreed,” responded The Rel, and they started down to the beach.

It was easy going, relatively speaking. The beach did disappear for several miles at one point or another, but although it ate up a lot of time, there was no problem in Hain ferrying them across one by one.

After almost three days, including delays from both terrain and a cold, bitter rain that stopped them for several hours, they were about three-quarters of the way to the Ghlmon border. The only living things they had encountered were seabirds in the millions, crying out in rage at the intruders. Once or twice they thought they caught sight of something huge flying about the mountaintops on great white wings, but the creatures never came close and no one was sure.

At a particularly long break in the beach, which took Hain over an hour to negotiate each way, the only incident of the slow passage occurred.

Hain set off first with the Slelcronian and the supplies, leaving The Diviner and The Rel alone with Skander on the beach.

Skander sat munching some dried fish, apparently unconcerned about the pace or the rough portage ahead. Then, satisfied that Hain was out of sight and hearing along the rocky cliff, the Umiau looked up at The Rel. It was hard to tell the front from the back of the creature even if she knew the Northerner had a front or back.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she started edging down toward the nearby ocean breakers.

Less than five meters from the water, The Rel noticed, and started coming toward Skander at a surprisingly fast speed. “Stop!” the creature called. “Or we shall stop you!”

Skander hesitated a fateful moment, then made a break for the beckoning waves.

The Diviner’s glowing, winking lights became extremely intense, and something shot out from the globe, striking with a loud crash just in front of the mermaid. Skander rolled but did not stop.

Another bolt shot out, striking Skander in the back, and she gave a cry then went limp, the water actually touching her outstretched arm. The body was motionless, eyes staring, but the sharp rise and fall of the chest showed that she lived.

The Rel glided up to the creature and halted next to the body.

“I wondered just how long that mind of yours would be controlled by that silly hypnotism,” it said in its even, toneless voice. “But you forgot the Slelcronian lesson. Don’t worry—you will be able to move soon. A fraction more voltage and your heart would have stopped, though. The only reason that you live is that we need you. The same for the others—Hain for transportation, the Slelcronian because its powers might be useful in a pinch. Now, you’ll be coming around shortly. But remember this! If you escape you are of no use to me. If we must choose between losing you and killing you, you are most surely dead. Now, you may move—the correct way. And shall we say nothing of this to our companions, eh?”

Skander surrendered, as movement returned. She still felt numb, but not merely of body. The Rel continued in control, and she had no doubt that she was trapped.

Hain returned in a little over two hours, and, after a short rest, was able to handle the two of them.

“We’re almost there,” the great insect told them. “You can see the damned place from the last stretch of beach. It looks like a piece of hell itself.”

Hain was tight. Ghlmon looked like a place one would run from, not to. The shoreline curved off to the northwest, and the land of Ghlmon started abruptly, the last of the Ekh’l mountains just slightly inching into the new hex. It was a land of blowing sand, dunes ranging in all directions right down to the sea. Outside of the ocean, there was no sign of water, vegetation, or any break in the oranges and purples of the swirling sand.

“You really would have to be crazy to go there willingly, wouldn’t you?” Hain said slowly, more to herself than to the others.

“No water at all,” Skander sighed.

“No soil, nothing but sand,” the Slelcronian added unhappily.

“The first truly pleasant place we’ve seen in the South,” said The Rel.

Skander turned to The Rel. “Well, O leader, how do we proceed?” she asked sarcastically.

“We keep to the coast,” the Northerner responded casually. “Hain can continue to catch fish. The Slelcronian will have to go without vitamins for a day or two, but it will get plenty of sun. Better water in that stream back there,” The Rel told the plant creature.

While the Slelcronian did so, Skander asked, “What about you, Rel? Or don’t you eat?”

“Of course we eat,” The Rel replied. “Silicon. What else?”

In a few minutes, they crossed the border.

The wind was close to forty kilometers per hour, the temperature around forty degrees Celsius. It was like going from midwinter into the worst day of summer, and the swirling sand bit deeply into all of them.

They were still within sight of the Ekh’l mountains when they had to stop for the day. Skander collapsed on the hot sand and shook her head exhaustedly. “What kind of creatures could possibly live in this hell?” she mused.

Almost as if to answer the question, a tiny head popped out of the sand near them. Suddenly, it leaped out of the sand, revealing a small, two-legged dinosaur, about a meter high, with short, stubby arms terminating in tiny but very human hands. It had a very long tail which seemed to balance it.

It was a darker green than the Czillian, but this was broken by what appeared to be a tiny, rust-colored vest and jacket. The creature came up to them and stopped. Its flat head and raised eyes set on each side of a spade-shaped mouth surveyed them with quick, darting motions. Suddenly it leaned back on its tail in a relaxed posture.

“I say, old fellows,” it said suddenly in a casual tenor that seemed to come from deep inside its throat—suggesting a translator in use—“Are you the good guys or the bad guys?”