The Beginning
Everyone in the Bakerville would be spared if things were that simple.
Sal Verno, first daughter of the Verno household, and descendant of a long forgotten warrior, could never escape from this matter. And she wouldn't have to leave her three young sisters to the Wise One at the mountain top, and she wouldn't have to ride to the edge of the lake in the dark mask of the night, if not for the beast that had terrorized the villagers for a living.
Most harvests were collected and consumed by the beast just a few years ago when it came to the village, while the folks were already leading a tough living because of the unusual drought. But now that the beast had grown larger and stronger, it soon revealed its unholy appetite, and demanded the taste of every newborn. The villagers regretted not killing the beast, and the responsibility ultimately rested on the shoulder of Sal Verno's parents, the sole hunter and huntress of the village.
It was believed that Sal Verno's parents had, at one time, ventured out of the bound of the village while hunting, and it may have then attracted the beast and brought it into the village.
Whether it was an act of the Mighty One, or fate came knocking the door, Sal Verno was glad when she was appointed as the one to rally an army from the world outside. She had longed for an adventure that was not in Bakerville. For years she had ridden the village round and about, climbed the mountains higher and farther, but wherever she went, there was the gate, and there was the rock that blocked her access of the place she had never seen.
Her parents prepared items she needed for the journey and stuffed them into two large saddle bag strapped on each side of her horse. They then retrieved the map from a delicate box hidden under the ground and taught her how to leave the village unnoticed and ride to the main road.
Sal had her share of suspicion about her parents when she first saw them returned in the moonless night, dirty and drenched in rain. They had lied, Sal thought, when they were outside. All these misfortune, were theirs to blame after all.
Her father held the torch light low and led the horse in front. Her mother, accompanying aside, did not speak a word, or even whisper, but keep on humming a tune that was ever so familiar to Sal.
"What if people asked about me?" Sal asked, her face indifferent in the orange-yellow torch light.
"Let's us worry about that, Sal," her mother hurried her to the horseback and squeezed her hand tightly before her father stepped in and gave the horse a pat.
She had soon made it through the secret passage under the mountain with a dying torch. And she quickly noticed how the constant rain had followed her everywhere she went, which forced her to seek makeshift shelter in the sleepless night.
The Sefinmore Forest
In the morning, she saw how the outside looked like. The forest of Sefinmore, the first place she had encountered seemed new, but also dark, and full of decay. It was not, as tales described, a world showered in a gay mist and lively creatures. She felt lonely while riding in the fog. She kept thinking about the crimson mountains and evergreen vegetation that surrounded her village, and thought how silly she was to expect anything nicer than that.
Her long damp red hair tasted dirty in her mouth as she slowly led her horse, Saa, across a shallow, but cold, and wide river. Sal could feel the chilling air running through her legs. And the vapors coming out of Saa's noses made Sal tremble. The horse dipped it head down to the point it's nose almost touching the stream. Sal tucked the rope hard a few times and urged Saa to hurry. Saa resisted and groaned, and jumped forward, a few light trotting and they were on the other side. Sal leaned forward and whispered into Saa, and then she got off the horseback and smoothed Saa's brown hair, caressing its face. She took food from the saddle and fed Saa first. And Saa was quiet.
The place Sal was going, her people called it the Ocean of Lakes. That was the name she used repeatedly when she asked the grim travelling merchants while riding on the horseback. Sal had never seen the ocean, or been to plains, and therefore she could not comprehend the idea of the horizon ending with the Glowing One when the merchants answered. Anyhow, her people were a bunch of reserved and honest country folks. None of them had left their rustic, caved-in houses in centuries. The fire pit tales and bedtime stories were passed on from their early ancestors, who had a share of the adventure on the old world, in the old times, and they were no longer presenting the current world.
Sal jumped down the horse and landed on the muddy ground. She trod lightly, avoiding the tiny ponds formed under the drizzle. It seemed to rain forever. Sal couldn't recall the last time she had seen the Glowing One. Not far away was a wagon. On it, sat a merchant that wore black all over, just like everyone else. The merchant seemed in a light sleep, the head leaning right, and suddenly bouncing back to the center, and slowly leaning right again.
"Hello there," Sal called out.
The merchant did not wake.
"Yo-ho," Sal whistled.
The wagon jerked forward as the leading horse accelerated. The merchant's hat fell and Sal could see that it was a girl, with fair hair, and a grim face.
"What is it now, boyo?" The girl sat forward and slapped the leading horse with the whip which was tied to her hand. It was a loud noise, and it resonated in the forest, though it did not bring out a large crowd of raven, or any kind of bird. "Don't try any mojo on me, or I'll kill ya like the rest of them," she spat, on the horse's tail. And then she saw Sal standing with Saa on the side of the road, wet all over. "What you looking at? You lost?" the girl asked, refitting the hat on her head, and stopped the wagon. The leading horse kicked the dirt and sneezed hysterically.
"I'm going to the Ocean of Lake," Sal led Saa and approached the wagon, "I don't know if I'm on the right way," Sal breathed white smoke, and saw the girl's freckled face grimacing. Sal took a step back.
The girl laughed, leaning back and holding her hat, her feet kicking in the air. "You people," she stopped laughing, "fear for you life, lady. The Ocean of Lake is on the other side," she pointed to the south east direction.
"Oh," Sal lowered her head. She took the wrong turn in the fog.
"Hey, it's your lucky day. I'm going there as well. It's bad weather all around, and you're travelling alone. I bet you don't even have a dagger or something with you," the girl stared at Saa, and said, "How about you tie your horse up front and hop up. I do miss some company on a road like this."
Sal turned to Saa, the big almond eyes glittering.
"Hurry up, lady, I ain't got all day."
Sal tied the rope around Saa and stroke it from head to nose. She took the girl's hand and sat next to her on a soft pad. "Thank you, if there's anything I can-"
"Sure. I'm going to take a nap. You just watch the road, okay? Ello knows his way. Don't wake me unless their's danger," The girl tipped her hat forward, then tilted it up again. "By the way, I'm Olle."
"Sal," she was expecting a handshake, but Olle had already leaned on her shoulder like a cat and took the nap fast as the wind.
The ride, though smoother than riding on the horseback, made Sal's back arch. She missed the numb sensation that would electrify her body when getting down to the ground for some rest. Saa was pulling hard in the front, working parallel with the other horse, Ello. Sal had never seen Saa pulled a wagon, and she was worry about the horse when Olle offered her the ride. Now that Saa showed her that it could run as well as carry, Sal's heart could finally settled on watching the road.
Olle did not sore in her nap, and as Sal had noticed, the girl carried a mysterious fragrance in her hair. Sal carefully lifted Olle's braid and smelled it more thoroughly. It seemed to a mixture of berry and lemon, but there was also another substance, something familiar, something-
The two passengers shot straight to the upper deck as the wagon swept sideways after the left wheels bumped over a large, blunt rock on the dirt road. The horses shrieked as they recovered from the rope's tight drag, and stopped running in the grey of the day.
Olle moaned painfully while rubbing the top of her head. Her hat was nowhere in sight. "What just happened?"
"I have no idea," Sal said. Her left palm burned in agony. "Are you hurt?"
"I don't think so," Olle pressed her forehead, and gasped, "Quick, get off, we need to check the back. Hurry," the girl leaped down from the wagon and her black boots splashed in those tiny muddy ponds.
Sal went the the back with Olle. She had no idea what to do. Things were stacked in way she could find no logic or reason to it. It just seemed so, beautifully unorganized.
"I can't believe it," Olle said slowly, and with astonishment, her tongue ticking, "Old Master Benju does know a thing or two, that old hound," Olle said, to no one in particular.
"I take it that we don't have to do anything, then?" Sal asked. Now that she had a constant shelter of the wagon roof, she had found it intolerable to stand in the light shower from the sky.
"Aye, everything's in order," Olle chuckled, "let's go. We'll waste no time here."
They rode on until the shades of grey blended with a touch of brown.
The Inn
Olle led the horses to the stable at the back while Sal went into a modest Inn. At the door was the Innkeeper, an wrinkled, and white hair man in his loose brown jerkin, who greeted Sal with phrases that she had not heard of. He asked Sal to dip her boots into a clear puddle at the entrance to wash off the dirt, before leading her into the two-story structure. The first thing Sal noticed was how dirty the corner of the wall were, spiders and their webs hung comfortably in the dim candle light. The tables were empty, layered with a thin layer of white dust, and wooden buckets were placed at spots where rain drops had penetrated.
"Rooms for two, I reckon?" The Innkeeper said grimly, "for you and the other merchant?"
Sal shook her head, pulling hairs that were caught in her mouth. "We've not decided, let's talk about this later. Do you have boiled water?
The Innkeeper's face brightened up with delight. "Of course we do. Come, sit at that table next to the fire pit, and then we shall discuss about your dinner and beds," the old man went to the door, and took down a raincoat from the rack. With a bucket in hand he turned to Sal and said, "you just wait here miss, I'll fetch you the finest water from the Well of Lanecotton," and ran out into the rain.
Olle came into the room just seconds after the Innkeeper took his short left. She had the hat on her again. Sal could not remember seeing that hat after they had the little incident. "Did Bill say that he's going to fetch you the finest water from the Well of Lanecotton?" Olle pulled the chair near the fire place and sat down, unbuttoning her black coat.
"He did."
"What did you say you horse's name was again?"
"Saa, as in Saa the Haste-catcher, the great ancient archer's mount that had helped in rescuing one of the princess of Kutmon."
"That's a lovely name," Olle pulled her feet from the black boots and leaned them against the brick wall inverted, "I wish I have your wisdom in naming my horses. Most of the time I'll just give them name's that are weak, or poor. Like Ello, the dark ashes."
"How old are you, Olle?" If she had to guess, Olle would be in the age like her sisters. The way she talks about certain words, the way she articulate, the way her voice lifted. It reminded Sal of her sisters back home. She had not think of them since she had bid them farewell on the mountain top.
"What is it to you?" Olle said. She took off her black coat, and then twisted and squeezed it to get off the water into the nearest bucket.
The door closed noisily as Innkeeper Bill stripped off his rain coat, and walked toward them staggering in the weight of the water bucket. He set the pot over the red, burning wood logs, and poured water into the metal container. "Here we go. Don't drink until it boils," Innkeeper Bill stroke Olle's hair with his thick, rough fingers, and said, "send Master Benju my greetings."
Olle winked. "Sure. But first, we need to eat. What do you have today?"
The Innkeeper started on a short list of ingredients and the limited amount of dishes. Olle made the order and turned to Sal. "Do you want anything in particular?" Olle asked her.
Sal shook her head.
"And two empty tankard for the drinking water," Olle said.
"Be right with you, ladies," the Innkeeper went into the kitchen and the two of them could hear the metal wares clanking at times, as they sat looking into the dancing fire, and waiting for the water to boil.
"Almost forgot it again. I was meant to ask you about your purpose to the Lake," Olle's face lit up in the glowing radiance of the orange fire. "Why were you alone, wandering in the forest of Sefinmore? Don't you know it's a dangerous territory, you could have been captured by the Nighters."
"The Nighters?" Sal knew very little of the outside world, and her limited knowledge troubled her more often than she hoped to be.
"Have you not heard of them? Master Benju said they are the fearless bandits that ruled the Sefinmore, they will slash your throat and hang you upside down on a tree for the coins you carried. Master Benju said they can know how many coins you have just by smelling the air. That's why I only carry enough coins to travel with me," she showed Sal the rain-shrunken coin purse fastened at her waist.
Sal recalled a tale very similar to Olle's, only her people call these bandits Tiders, rather than Nighters. "Have you seen them before?"
"No. Fortunately. I don't want to be hang on a rope after I die, that's just tiresome."
Sal smiled on that. "I'm sure it is."
The two of them spoke merrily about other tales they have heard of, while Innkeeper Bill was dropping sweat in the iron-red kitchen.
Presently the table was wiped with a dirty cloth hung on Innkeeper Bill's waist, and then the dishes were placed, or rather, stacked into a small fountain; big, round containers with small proportion of food. And with a swipe on the match head, fire sparkles ignited the puddle of wax above the fire pit. The two guest of the inn awed in unison.
"Specially done for you, my good lady," the innkeeper bowed to their applause. His face lit up in pleasure, his eye shivering with tears. "It's been so long since I have a proper guest, please, enjoy your dinner."
"And while we are at it, don't you think you could also prepare a hot bath for the two of us?" Olle said, almost disrespectfully.
"For the two of you? I'm afraid I have only one good bathware left. The other one's been broken not long after the last time you left," the innkeeper told Olle.
"Then we'll bath together in the same tub," Olle turned and grinned at Sal, her lip crunched tight.
"If you so wish," Bill looked at Sal, "I hope this devil here doesn't trouble you too much, my lady," the innkeeper bowed once more, and was soon here kindling the logs in the room next to the kitchen.
Sal stayed in the dinning room to help the innkeeper with the dishes. Sweat ran down her cheeks, glinting and dancing in the warm, red light.
Olle had picked a two-bed room, again, for the both of them. The girl seemed to enjoy her company, Sal thought.
By the time Sal had done the dishes and bid good night to the old man on the counter, Bill said something to her that she could not understand. She could feel the gaze pinching at her back, but she didn't turn.
Olle had called no less than five times to bath.
Sal slowly pushed the door ajar and slipped into the bathroom and gently closed the door. Olle, sitting in the steaming pool, her hands lying on the thick rim of the heavy wooden tub, had her eyes shut. Sal took off her outer garments and then the inner ones. Her clothes felt slippery by touch as she threw them into the water bucket at the side, and knelt down. Her hands pressing on her clothes, soaking them in the water.
"Come and join me, Sal. This water is amazing," the girl called again.
Her legs first touched the lukewarm water, and then Sal suddenly found herself immersed in it. Sitting in the tub opposite to Olle, Sal could understand why the girl had been calling her. The water did feel amazing to her body, particularly when they had been exposed to rain that was as cold as any spring.
The water raised a bit and reached Olle's opening mouth. She swallowed a little and coughed a lot. Sal laughed, and the water rippled in her waves.
"What's so," the girl still coughing, "funny?"
"Nothing. It's just what you did there reminded me of my sisters?"
"Do they get choke on bath water like me?"
"They certainly do," Sal could not hide her smile from the girl.
They were looking each other, head to head. Their bodies below their chins are completely relaxing in the water's warmth.
"Can you wash me?" Olle asked.
"Yes," Sal said. "rub or touch?"
"A bit of both?" Olle said, "I don't remember how it feels like anymore," her thin blue iris trembled in memory.
"Come here," Sal said motherly, holding Olle's hand and sat her down on her naked back.
The smooth touches going in and out of water, like the drizzle that accompanied during the day, though warm. The boiled dew slipped away from Olle's baby skin, tumbling down to Sal's hands and she smoothed them up again. Olle stayed quiet, her moist lips breathed lightly, her shoulder relaxed. Sal cupped water in her palms and slowly, letting them flowing down between her fingers and dripping on to the girl's bare shoulder. The skinny shoulders, almost water-like, felt empty in Sal's wrist as she massaged them. Sweat formed on Olle's cheek, tickling her, and then she felt something warmer than the tub of water formed inside her chest. But it wasn't anything but Sal's hands, which pressed firmly at her heart, rubbing her chest. And Sal's hands continued downward, reaching Olle's thigh, and her knees, and Sal cleaned them, in her delicate movement.
"It is done," said Sal.
Olle, still enjoying the warm touches, said, "thank you. Have you washed any of your sisters?"
Sal gazed into the water at her wrinkled fingertips as if they were mystic worms sucking her bloods. "I do, occasionally and more than I wanted to. It's one of my everyday responsibility to make sure they are clean. I think it creates a greater bonds between us, because, you must have feel it, too, that feeling of intimacy through touches, it connects us and make us, feel for each other."
Olle, rolling a lock of her hairs in the water, saw dozen snakes whirling around her. "It just feels good, that's all."
"Yes. It also makes you womanly," said Sal, "Olle, can you wash me as well?"
Olle grimaced at her again, "I don't want to be a woman. I just want to be a girl, forever a girl."
"You will not ever be a girl, Olle. You will be a woman soon, and you will learn to be a woman."
Olle got up from the tub and hugged herself in a big brown robe, it didn't fit her, and she dragged it on floor all the way to their room.
Sal didn't stayed in tub for long. She braced her hair and combed it in a braid. The strain on her neck clung like a monstrous snake, but the soreness on her legs had dispersed in the warm tub. She left the water, shivering in the cooling steam, wrapped herself in the big brown robe and went to their room.
The door was opened ajar. Sal opened the door with a push as light as the soothing wind coming from the dark, opened window. Olle, laid naked on her bed with the robe on the floor. Her chest pumped softly, her breathing slow.
Sal closed the wooden door quietly behind her and went to Olle, she pulled the foamy bed sheet to cover Olle's cold skin. The candle flickered and went off in a warm gush of breath.
Next morning, the sky grey as yesterday, continued the ceaseless rainfall. The road, stayed impossibly intact as Sal and Olle rode on their wagon.
The day was not pleasant, so was the the following day and many days they sat under the wagon's roof. The rain teased them endlessly and the muddy, dirt road treated them with disgrace.
And finally on the day that they could not tell what time of the day it was because of the heavy rain, they arrived at the gate of the Ocean of Lake. However, the guard post was deserted, and their callings were left unanswered.
"Is this normal?" Sal asked on the wagon.
"No, I've never seen the post unattended," Olle hopped back onto her seat from the mud, "not even in the night when ravens don't fly," she leaned close to Sal, and whispered, "they'd never done that."
A cold stream, chiller than the rain rushed through Sal's back, rendering her numb and immobile. "Is there," she swallowed the damp air and swallowed the cold wind, "is there another way in?"
Olle grinned at her like a skilled thief in the trade, "do I know another way in?" she laughed, evil, echoed by the horses, "do I know another way in."
The Ocean of Lake
They stopped at the beginning of what looks like a tunnel, but it really shaped like a mole hole than a safe passage. The tunnel, unsupported by anything, loose mud dropping and exposed the equally unsecured edge.
"This is it?"
"Olle nodded, dragging Ello and Saa and walking up to the inclined entrance. "Just duck down and follow me," Olle tied the horses at a huge pine tree and went in first. Her heads slowly consumed by the darkness as if sucked into a void. But then she resurfaced and her face looked different to Sal, a combination of courageousness and fearfulness. "If you don't mind, I would like to have the light."
Sal passed the lamp to Olle and could smell the fragrance from the dirt. The scent was familiar. Sal closed her eyes, trying to remember what it was but the smell was erased by the horse's snort.
"Follow closely," said Olle, and held Sal's hand and they began to walk the shifting mud. They paused at certain spots, waiting for the mud to slide while standing on a concrete, solid platform. Their shadows, distorted on the red-brown wall, continued forward until they saw flames waving at the far side.
They came out of the ugly tunnel, and Sal felt heavy at heart. There wasn't a fire, or a torch, yet the flames she saw just then looked undoubtedly real.
"Those who sinned used to escape through this tunnel, but not many of them survived," Olle said, without looking back. Their hands still holding at each other. "You could, I think, step on those unlucky one's bones, but honestly I have never seen one here, let alone stepping onto one. So I guess that's a relieve."
"That's something you should have told me earlier."
"I told you now, didn't I," said the girl.
And on the other side of the tunnel, Sal saw that it was a place of abandoned houses and burned fire pit that carried no ashes, but a dark, scorched mark, which sparkled under the torch.
"Folks used to live here," said Olle. She went left, and immediately Sal noticed a faint sound of water. "Come, wash yourself. I don't want to left the horses outside for too long. There's many creatures roaming in the woods these days. Deadly creatures that devour even the toughest bones and thickest skins."
The cold water ran through the woods and came out of many tiny holes from the rock, which stood polished in the flickering light. Sal lay her hands in the slow stream and held a handful and spray them evenly on her hard boots. Olle, on the other stream exist, had her hands covering the holes, and releasing it just every so often to clean her own boots with pressurized water. Which, was better and faster than Sal's method.
"I'm going to take the lamp with me. You just sit on that log and wait for me. I don't want the horses to panic and ran away," Olle said, "not with my wagon full of merchandises."
"The least you could do is to lit a light for me. A small kindling would do," Sal said, sitting down on the log.
"It won't do. The logs here are too wet, and the leaves are too moist. Nothing will burn here."
"What about the branches? There's even a pit that someone used to burn their own fire."
"Don't even think of that," Olle said, "that pit's dead. No one has ever been able to light a fire there, it's a fool's trap, and a genius trick."
Sal frowned. "What's that suppose to mean?"
"Just sit here and wait for me. Don't move and you will be alright," with that, Olle was gone.
Sal sat alone on the log. Her fingers traced along the decaying, once huge tree trunk, and touched its wet surface that felt slimy. She rubbed it off on her coat and smelled its unpleasant, earthy scent. The night was quiet, without the ravine's cry or the insect's intense chirp. Everything just grew damp in the dark. The fog flushed in without warning, and formed into humanoid, they talked to each other in otherworldly languages and gestured to the clouded sky. And soon every spirited entity had their misty fingers pointing at the same direction. Sal's eye followed them, and there on the sky, a fallen star slashed through the thick, grey cotton and disappeared not so far away with a sonic explosion.
Rain came again. By the time Olle returned from nowhere with the horses in her guidance, the rain had stopped.
"Did you saw that bright light, and hear that loud boom?" Sal asked, her hair dripping water.
"That's what I was going to ask you. Did you see where it has landed?" Olle said, "Nevermind, I think I know where it is. A slight change of plan, we are going there first," the girl grinned, "I'm going to be rich if I can salvage something from it this time."
"This time?" Sal frowned, "spectacle like this has happened before?"
"Why, you must have been living under a rock all this time. Have you not been a witness to such an anomaly?"
"I think not. Is it dangerous? I have heard tales that such light could consume all life around it," Sal said.
"No, no danger at all. We will be safe as a bell if one doesn't ring," Olle said, "get in, we have to beat everyone to the site."
Sal hopped on reluctantly. She began to imagine how they would fall into the light and disappear without a moment of pain. The thought made her legs tremble, and her hands twitch. Olle, the girl, who sat next to her, driving the horses to a destination unknown to the both of them, displayed a fleeing glee in her blinking eyes.
"I wonder if we are going on the right track? Do you know where it is, a rough estimate is better than running around unrewarded," Olle asked, "I'm not saying we are not heading in the right direction though. We are perfectly on track to the source of that superficial light."
Sal swallowed the question and her stomach turned upside down. "I think if we going slightly to the right," her inner compass guided her finger to a single point, and Olle adjusted the rope on the horses to steer through the night woods, "a little bitter to the left. More. More. Okay, stay on this course." The white spirited one rode on the horse back. They turned to look Sal in the eyes and evaporated, dispersed into the dark, and didn't return until their arrival at the crash site.
The Site
The cloud, although thick as a cotton overcoat folded thrice, could not isolate the offensive light coming from above them. The day started earlier than Sal remember when she woke up from her catnap. Her neck, hard and flat, bent with a crackling sound.
Sal immediately thought of checking on Olle, whom had a smile spread broadly across her frozen, red cheeks. "We're almost there. I could smell that roasted scent, almost as if people were having a feast here that lasted all night."
"It smelled more like the rocky flavor when two stones were put to crash at each other," Sal said. Her lips weren't dry, it fascinated her. How long had she not replenished her throat with water. "I see many thin tails of smokes up front."
"Indeed, the grey snakes are ascending," Olle said, "I wonder if someone had beat us to it. I do not wish to share this light with anyone, except you of course," Olle fastened her strikes on the horses, and Sal could hear Saa cried for mercy.
"What are we going to find, in the light?" Sal asked. She had been avoiding, even gagging herself for asking the question, because she was afraid that once she had learned the truth of the light, she would have to depart from the wagon with Saa and travel blindly to the Ocean of Lake alone.
"The light would set you free," Old Mrs. Rouz told the children sitting under the tree. "It would devour everything it touches, and consume other lights that's on its way. The light is not sacred at all, the light is the origin of sin. It came from the sky because it was channeled by the people who sinned the most. It is the sign to retreat. That's also one of the reason why we had been living in Bakerville for as long as we could. And those who dare to reach for the light, shall be burned and never be whole again. Beware, children, always follow the white spirit. May the root guide you."
"The root," Sal said abruptly in the silence morning air. The words came out louder than she had anticipated.
"May they guide you," Olle added.
"You have heard of this saying?"
"Oh yeah. The folks always say it when I'm not around, or at least they thought I wasn't. I think it's some kind of secret code for an underground organization. Why else would people speak of such nonsense like it's a kind of formality, such as Good Morning, Thank You, Bless You, Good Day? I'll never understand the old people's mentality. They're so difficult to read."
"Are you suggesting that the saying is, in fact, something completely different than what I've thought about?" Sal gasped, and clung to the girl's wrist. "Olle, we might be onto something."
"Well, hold on, big sister, because I'm making no sense of what you are talking about. What exactly are you saying we are getting ourselves into? My mind's only on the fallen light, and that's where we are laying our hands from now on until our fingernails are loaded with dirt."
"Yes, but," Sal said, "look out!"
The horses planted their iron feet deep into the dirt and stopped the spinning wheel. The wagon, lifted into the air for a split second, settled at the edge of what seemed to a giant pitfall. Smoke risen in armies of thousand surrounded them, choking and blinding them with a rancid smell, that squeezed the nose and pinched the eyes.
Olle, coughing, "looks like we are here. It seemed so distant just then," the girl spit, "this is even worse than the last one. The smell of it," Olle shivered from head to toe, despite the heat. "This place is ruined, same as the other one."
Sal covered her face with her woolen shirt and hopped off the wagon, walking in the opposite direction.
"Sal, where are you going?"
"I can't take it," she shouted, "it's too strong," tears ran down her swollen eyes, making the image in front of her fuzzy, "I can't breath," she told herself, "I'm suffocating," the grip on her throat tightened.
"Here," Olle ran up to her and fed her spring from the waterskin, even though she had only a drop on her yellowing tongue. "Drink some more. Here, take it."
"I can't," Sal panted, and arched down, her hands on her knees, "I can't drink anymore," and her body hit the ground. There was no sound, she was very light, as light as a fairy is believed to be. "Carry me away. Guide me," Sal said, eyes fluttering.
"Hey!" Olle landed a slap on Sal so hard the girl immediately regretted it.
A bright red palm mark surfaced clearly on Sal's left cheek. It burned and itched, felt like a tomato was growing right out of her face. "It hurts."
"Well," Olle looking away, her face flushed "of course it hurts. It's a slap."
Sal smiled at Olle and hugged her on the ground, "I thought I was going to die."
"Nobody's dying today. All that needed to die died yesterday. Today, we live and thrive. And we're going to live by start digging this light. So, come on up, because I'm not leaving you behind to slack off in the shade of the trees."
Sal stood up and drank a mouthful. "How are we going to get through this smoke?"
"We improvise," Olle said.
The Light
Getting to the bottom was not as hard as Sal had thought. When she stood at the edge of the inverted dome, all she could think of was how the two of them would go tumble and roll until they have snapped their spins or broken their necks. It didn't happen, though Sal herself may have slipped once or twice on the black dust that rolled like regular sands. The misleading smog had removed itself from their presences, tails of snake now danced above them, in midair, and the stream didn't ease with the lack of a visible source.
Both of them, dressed in the queer, improvised helmet made from the secondary supply crate that Olle kept above the wagon's load, sealed their lips as soon as they heard a wailing from nothing. The direction of this mysterious sound could not be determined.
Olle retreated from the lead and came back holding Sal's arm with both of her muddy hands.
"That sound, it's very familiar. Olle, you heard that, too, right?"
"It's probably nothing," Olle's short fingernails pinched Sal, "perhaps it's just a raven."
"A raven could cry loud enough to startle you, but it doesn't chill and froze you. There's something out there, and we must hurry."
Their suckling footsteps, difficult in the mud, approached a rock in the size of at least five people combined.
"This is where all the smoke is coming from," Olle said, "they come off like a stream. Look at this. Can you believe what we are seeing right now. A rock that provides an endless stream of smoke. Somebody might pay for it handsomely," from her pocket, Olle took a small pickax and started clicking the surface of the rock lightly, while listening to the sound of a crisp clank. "Here," Olle handed Sal another small pickax, "help me with this thing so we can leave."
Sal blew at the smoke, and started poking around. The tip of the pickax bounced back and forth on the rock as the two of them walked in circle, going up and down, leaving not an surface unchecked. Finally, the sound of a hollow core chipped. Olle gave it a beating and knocked on it senselessly. Sal came around and helped, puncturing the points where Olle made markings with the metallic tool.
It didn't take long for a thin slice of rock plate to fell into the hand of the merchant girl. Olle cracked a smile. "Well, well, well. It's about time for this little thing to come off," the slice stayed light in her hand and stopped creating smoke. "No, no, no, no! This isn't suppose to happen," and quickly the rock turned into free-flowing sand, and slipped through her fingers and onto the ground. Whereas the rock besides them evaporated the same way smoke naturally did, and all the snakes above them had disappeared, as if by some kind of...
"Magic. This is pure magic."
