Chapter 13 - The Old Man on the River

Chapter 13 – The Old Man and the River


Giant spider webs brushed Opal’s face, causing her to recoil in disgust. Slinkers, creepers and strollers covered the ground. She kicked the bloated bellies of trunk wigglers aside, ignoring the threat of being stung. Flip-flops crunched beneath her feet before they could turn over and inflict their itch venom.

“Whatever you do, don’t touch the witch-bugs,” Opal told Tinder. “Their bites will make your hair fall out.” Tinder looked frightened. His avoidance of the beetles amused Opal, as she knew the bug’s fangs were only for show.

She dripped from the humidity. The exertion of finding a course through the wilderness left the major drenched as well. He wove through the maze of trees until suddenly he yelled, “Pits!” dropping out of the trollkin’s view.

.At the bottom of a six-foot deep ditch, he lay crumpled up on his side, covered with mud. The gully bordered a brook filled with black, oily water. He declared, “This water is foul. Don’t drink any of it or fill your canteens from it.” He picked himself out of the slime.

Opal eased herself down grasping Tinder’s elbow. “Surely the wildlife needs water.”

“Yes,” said Major Wright. “But this is poisoned. Even worse, it may be cursed. The good news is this stream is a tributary of the Ruddy River. It must lead out of these woods; we’ll follow it upstream and hopefully out of this demented world.”

Opal had trust in the major. Her confidence was bolstered when the culvert expanded into a bed of weeds that made hiking easier. Her mood brightened from softwoods hanging over the bank ruffling her hair.

“At least we’re getting where we’re going a little quicker,” said Tinder.

“Wherever that may be,” Opal added.

“I’m not sure we want to go there,” said Major Wright.
They continued up the creek. Suddenly, Opal shouted, “Stop, Major!” as Tinder jumped three feet backward.

Major Wright looked up at the branch hanging directly in front of him and froze. A red and black viper coiled on the limb a foot away at eye level.

Opal acted in the troll’s stead. She pushed past him and pulled alongside the major. With the poise of a court dancer, she unsheathed the major’s sword from its scabbard. She stepped out of striking distance and waved her left hand causing the snake to extend its neck her way. Thrusting the blade down, she sliced the viper in two and watched its corpse drop to the jungle floor.

“I’m sorry I questioned bringing you along, Opal. What happened to you, Tinder?” asked the major.

“I’m afraid of snakes,” said Tinder.

The major gave Opal a disgusted look.

She kicked the dead reptile aside and followed the major down the trail. They continued for another two hours without reaching the jungle’s end.

“I think we’re going the wrong way,” the Major said. “From what I saw from the Great Northern Road, we should be out by now. All we can do is hope this stream leads to the other side. If it does, I will be as happy as a sailor in a bathtub of gin.”

“I want to get out of here as much as you two do,” said Opal, “but it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen soon. It’s lunchtime. I’m famished.”

“Once we find a hospitable place, Opal,” said Tinder, “I’ll sit down with you and you can cram your whole pack of veggies down my gullet. But I’m not eating anything until we get away from this putrid water.”

Opal found Tinder’s arguments reasonable. “I’ll hold you to that, Tinder. I hope you like stewed devil’s weed with toadstools.” The thought of feeding him a meal only witches could love, gave her great pleasure.

“I don’t know which is worse,” said Major Wright. “This jungle or Opal’s cooking.”
Within an hour, the shoreline spread into a bracken meadow. Willow roots tripped Opal by the feet as the major led the two trolls away from the stream. Opal spotted a building in the distance at the same time Tinder did. Thatched from straw and mud, it sat a quarter of a mile away.

“Wonder of wonders,” said Opal.

“A house in the middle of Camp Abominable,” said Tinder.

“What do you make of that, Major?” asked Opal. “Surely nobody could live out here.”

“I don’t know,” said the major. “But I urge caution, great caution.”

“Old sourpuss again,” said Tinder. “Race you to dinner, Opal” The troll scampered towards the shack.

“Wait, Tinder” said Major Wright. “Let me go ahead of you.”

Tinder paid the soldier no mind.

Opal felt an urgency she didn’t understand. Feeling as if she were being pulled by an invisible force, she broke into a sprint. She looked over her shoulder. The major appeared to be losing a game of tug-a-war to the same mysterious impulse.

She reached the building and ducked through an opening in its side. Tinder occupied a seat at a three-legged table. A man wearing a purple gown with white crescent moons on the chest held a ladle in his hand. His albino skin matched the lunar slices on his robe and the veins in his eyes reminded Opal of a drunken eagle.
The man filled a container full of a clear liquid smelling like turpentine and dipped the spoon into a jug. He transferred the fluid into a bowl. “Hello, Tinder,” said the man. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

The troll made an effort to spit out the contents of the brew, but it went down with a gulp. The man indicated it was Opal’s turn. She couldn’t refuse him anymore than Tinder could. Nearly tasteless, only a faint hint of rotten fish gave the concoction gave it away as being other than water. Major Wright joined them and drank likewise.

Opal’s fears were confirmed. An evil wizard, the most dreadful development she could conceive of. And they had run straght into his clutches.

#

Tinder woke first. Throbs of pain pulsated through him. He held the sides of his head while bringing himself to a sitting position. As the wooziness began to diminish, he played out the memory of the previous day’s events. Though he remembered the events up to drinking the tonic, how he arrived at this cell was a mystery.

His new surroundings reminded him of his cell in the Lockyards. Dark except for light passing through a grating near the top of a door, there was little else to differentiate the two.

“Tinder, what have you gotten yourself into now?” murmured a familiar voice in his head.

“I should have guessed,” said Tinder out loud. He didn’t care who heard him. “Where have you been, Koop?”

His eyes adjusted and he found his two comrades next to him fast asleep. The major lay stretched out to his immediate right and Opal reclined on her stomach to his left with her head resting on her hands. As they would only encounter the same agony he experienced, he felt there was no reason to wake them.

I thought you didn’t need me anymore.

“That thought never crossed my mind,” said Tinder, even though he knew Koop’s remark had some merit.

He looked out the window and viewed the corridor from an acute angle. Trying the door, he could not budge it. Walls plastered from a hard gray substance bounded the other three sides. He couldn’t dig his fingertips in, as its surface was so smooth Tinder thought he could see his caveman resemblance in its veneer. The floor seemed to be made of the same stuff, making him wonder if it was magically contrived.

“Since you’re here, what’s your advice?” asked Tinder. “It helped at least some of the time.”

Very gracious of you, Tinder. The truth is you’re in a very dark place. The stakes are high. Play it smart, and think fast on your feet.

“Cryptic as ever, aren’t you friend?”

An ally has his limitations, Tinder. If you keep getting yourself tossed into a salad, don’t expect me to put the dressing back in the bottle.

Tinder reflected on his situation. Learning the magic of an evil sorcerer wasn’t what he proposed when he’d decided to become a wizard. He had no clue what the dark man wanted, but whatever it was, he feared it included him. Not even Acumen could protect him here.

A voice spoke to him from down the passage.

“You are a prisoner in the Shapechanger’s dungeon.”

“Says who?” asked Tinder, with little conviction.

The jail cell door turned on its hinges. A man stepped forth into the confines of the cell. Horror registered in Tinder’s mind upon recognizing of his captor.

“Gerard?” cried Tinder.

The Nomad looked like a facsimile of his former self. Lines furrowed his face and his eyes resembled empty sockets. He emanated fearfulness, as if his life was filled with torture. Hunching his neck down near his shoulders, Gerard could not meet the troll’s eyes. Tinder wondered what could have caused this change in his friend.

“Yes, that is my name,” said Gerard.

“What are you doing here?” asked Tinder.

“When we met in the Wildes I told you I would search for a wizard to apprentice under,” said Gerard. “I chose the wrong one. He is the Shapechanger, the lord of this Enchanted Jungle. You blundered into it, but I did an even dumber thing. I begged him to take me.”

“Why don’t you just resign?” asked Tinder.

“I didn’t understand the terms of our agreement,” said Gerard. “He deceived me, but a contract is a contract. Now I’m indentured to him as servant and slave for life.”

“What evil is this?” asked the troll. Why don’t you just leave?”

“Hah! I wish it were that easy,” said Gerard. “No one leaves the Enchanted Jungle. Not even the old man can get out.”