ISOF (21 page)

Directly between the two deep gouges of the stone face a third, almost as deep, gouge had appeared. Standing below was Noj, his walking stick pointing directly at the stone face, as flashes of blue light played around the tip. For a split second, the cavernous mouth stopped its closing motion, momentarily stunned at the sudden impact between its eyes. Instantly, Ben clambered into the cavernous opening, thankful to give his aching hands and arms a rest. Standing in the opening, he looked down at Noj and gestured towards the walking stick. Without hesitation, Noj hurled Trep's walking stick at Ben. Instinctively, he caught the walking stick and, wedging one end at the base of the opening, he forced the walking stick upright. Turning towards the cavernous interior, Ben was confronted with rows of stalactites and stalagmites lining each side of the cavernous mouth.

‘Don't just stand there!' shouted Trep. ‘Find what sparkled and get out of there. I can't guarantee the walking stick is going to hold for long.'

Startled by Trep, Ben quickly looked around but couldn't see anything that had even a hint of a sparkle.

‘I can't see anything,' he called over his shoulder.

‘No wonder,' called Trep. ‘You're blocking the light. Move to one side.'

Taking a step to his left, Ben caught the briefest glimpse of a reflection towards the rear of the cavern. As he stepped forward the floor began to tremble causing him to lose his balance. A split second later a huge groan filled the cavern, steadily building in volume until Ben felt his head was going to explode.

With his hands firmly over his ears and shuffling awkwardly on his knees and elbows, he reached the rear of the cavern. Immediately in front of his face, about the same size as his fist, hung an uncut diamond, firmly wedged between two stalactites. Not giving a second thought, Ben turned onto his back and began to kick at the diamond. Fortunately, the rear of the cavern was small enough for him to just about reach the diamond and get sufficient force behind each kick.

Without warning the intensity of the groaning increased dramatically. The ground shook violently as Ben tried to dislodge the diamond. Even with his fingers dug firmly into his ears, the groaning seemed to torture every bone and muscle in his body. Sweat poured down his face as he kicked desperately at the diamond. Just when he thought his body couldn't take any more punishment, a blast of cold, gritty air hit him. Ben closed his eyes as the grit began to scratch at his face. Almost instantly, a second more fierce blast of air and grit hit him and then a third.

Ben, his legs feeling as if they were on fire, gave a last kick at the diamond. He kicked again and suddenly realised that he was kicking at space. Opening his eyes for a brief moment he saw the diamond lying close to his arm. Scooping up the diamond he scrabbled towards the edge of the cavernous mouth just as another blast of air and grit hit him. The violence of the blast tumbled him over and over until he lay at the edge of the mouth. Before he had time to react a final blast hit him and Ben felt himself hurled into the air. Even though he knew that gravity would exact its revenge and throw him down to earth, Ben couldn't help thinking that the cavernous mouth had actually coughed him out. With a smile on his face, Ben felt his arms fly above his head and the diamond tumble out of his grasp. His cape billowed open allowing the precious book to tumble earthwards too. Ben screwed his eyes shut and tensed his body waiting for the hard ground to make a violent impression on him.

Instead of a harsh landing, Ben felt himself suddenly enveloped in a soft cloud-like substance. For the first time in ages he was comfortable, wrapped in a warm softness that reminded him of being at home in bed. Just as he was about to allow his body to luxuriate in the velvet embrace, someone grabbed his arms and tugged him upright.

Blinking in the sunlight, he looked first at Noj, who still held Ben's hands, and then at the large bubble that had shot out of the book as it hit the ground.

‘Wow!' exclaimed Ben in admiration. ‘An air bag, cool!'

‘Whatever,' snapped Noj. ‘Grab the book quickly. We need to get out of here right now.'

Ben looked up at the rock faces. Each face appeared creased with anger as splinters of stone shot out of their mouths. Somehow, Trep had managed to scramble and tumble down the rock face and now sat looking totally bewildered on the ground.

‘Trep!' yelled Ben. ‘Shift yourself, quickly.'

Trep struggled to his feet just as his walking stick finally submitted to the grinding force of the cavernous mouth. Splinters of wood joined the stone shards flying through the air. The noise startled Trep into movement as he dashed across the amphitheatre to join Ben.

‘Waste of a damn fine walking stick,' he muttered angrily.

‘All in a good cause,' shouted Ben as he tugged at Trep's arm. ‘Let's get out of here fast.'

‘What about that thing you prised out of the cavernous mouth,' yelled Trep, running as fast as he could to keep up with Ben.

‘Mak's got it,' replied Ben breathlessly. ‘Look.'

Both Noj and Mak sheltered anxiously within a narrow gap in the rock wall. The shards of stone continued to rain down around them but this time accompanied by a sand storm that picked up the pieces and hurled them violently earthwards. Noj beckoned at them urgently.

‘Come on,' he yelled above the noise. ‘This way.'

All four ran through the narrow gap as the rock faces continued to demonstrate their anger.

The narrow walls twisted and turned, sometimes appearing wide and other times almost touching, impeding their escape. After what seemed an age, they suddenly emerged, bruised and breathless, into bright sunlight while a groaning stone storm raged just behind them.

‘It's stopped raining out here,' observed Mak, gasping for air as he craned his neck towards the sky.

‘Precisely,' agreed Noj. ‘But what is the one cloud you can see on the horizon?'

In the distance, a cloud of dark fingers hovered menacingly, appearing like a stain on an otherwise serene sky.

‘How did they know where we would be heading?' asked Trep incredulously.

‘No idea,' replied Noj. ‘But you have to admire their persistence.'

‘Admiration or annoyance?' asked Ben as he gazed at the dark smudge of Whispers.

‘Whatever you think,' said Mak handing Ben the uncut diamond. ‘You'd better look after this.'

‘What am I expected to do with this?' replied Ben turning the diamond over in his hands.

Noj shook his head, looking from the diamond to the Whispers and back. ‘That can wait,' he said flatly. ‘What we need to concentrate on is how to get to that ridge of mountains over there and avoid the Whispers at the same time.' He nodded at the book that Ben held in his hands. ‘Anything in there that might help us?' he asked hopefully.

Ben, who'd been carrying the book ever since it had cushioned his fall, looked at the book and shrugged.

‘I haven't got a clue,' he replied. ‘Your guess is as good as mine!' ‘Well, you'd better do something pretty quickly,' said Trep pointing towards the dark stain of the Whispers. ‘They're on the move and coming in this direction.'

Without a second glance at the approaching mass, Ben opened the book randomly. At first nothing happened and he was just about to flick over a few more pages when the book started to tremble in his hand. Shoving the diamond into his pocket, Ben tried to steady the book with both hands. The book continued to tremble with such force that Ben's arms began to shake violently. Then, just as Mak and Noj walked over to help try and control the book, a huge plume of sand shot out from the pages. Still the book trembled as the column of sand spread out above their heads to form a swirling mass.

Noj grinned at the sight. ‘I think we have a unique umbrella,' he said pointing at the churning mass of sand. ‘Come on,' he said excitedly. ‘Get under cover and let's make a run for the mountains.' He grabbed Ben's arm and gestured for Trep and Mak to follow suit. ‘Let the Whispers mess with a sandstorm if they dare.'

The fury of the sandstorm surprised everyone. The Whispers, making tentative attempts to penetrate the maelstrom, quickly found themselves torn to shreds by the razor-like sand particles and their remnants hurled to the wind.

Huddled around the book, the four figures forced their weary limbs to push forward towards the mountains that loomed menacingly in the distance. Cradling the book close to his body, Ben used his free hand to point at the mountains.

‘Are we supposed to be heading towards those unwelcoming pinnacles?'

‘I don't think we have a choice,' replied Noj, pointing at the swirling mass overhead, which seemed bent on directing them towards the mountains. ‘It has a mind of its own and I'm not going to argue with it.'

For the next hour the figures trudged firmly on, while the sandstorm continued to make life unpleasant for those beneath and intolerable for the Whispers. Just when it seemed that a more bearable option was to face what was left of the Whispers, Trep suddenly stopped, his face ashen.

‘What?' he mouthed, slowly raising his arm to indicate what it was that had caught his breath.

Barely visible through the plume of sand lay a broad swathe of huge, bony fingers stretching upwards towards the sky. As silently as it was possible with a whirlwind of grit hurtling around their heads, the four figures walked towards the eerie scene.

With the sun fading rapidly and a chill beginning to permeate the air around them, the four figures finally stood before one of the strangest sights they had seen during their odd journey. As if by some form of weird extrasensory perception, the sandstorm appeared to determine that its protection was no longer necessary and, with a slight stutter, it withdrew into the book.

Ben, with a shrug of his shoulders, closed the book and replaced it inside his cloak.

‘That's, that then,' he said coolly. ‘Job done.'

‘Until the next time,' grinned Noj. He nodded at the disturbing sight in front of them. ‘Weird or what?'

Stretching as far as they could see in the increasing gloom was a forest of dead trees, their branches scratching noiselessly at the sky. Along the tips of their scrawny branches hung a motley collection of faded rags, snatched from the wind and held aloft like souvenirs from a long forgotten carnival.

‘Through there?' enquired Trep.

No one spoke. The rapidly forming shadows added another dimension to the trees, which made them appear animated whenever anyone looked. Ben shuddered.

‘That's really strange,' he said quietly, almost to himself.

‘Strange or not,' replied Mak, ‘be thankful that the Whispers won't follow us in there. If they did, what's left of them will be grabbed, torn and hung out to dry.'

Without further comment, they walked solemnly amongst the lifeless wood.

By some strange coincidence, the further they travelled into the forest the darker the sky became until, eventually, it was almost impossible to see where they were going or where they were putting their feet. Finally, Noj, having stubbed his toes more often than he cared to count, said what they all felt.

‘This is getting ridiculous,' he said, feeling increasingly agitated. ‘One of us will get injured trying to push through this creepy forest and then what?'

‘A piggy-back?' suggested Ben.

‘A what?' snapped Trep. ‘Don't you ever say anything remotely sensible?'

‘Well, ‘began Ben.

‘Sssh,' hissed Mak. ‘Over there.' He pointed deep into the forest where a faint light could be seen gently swaying from side-to-side.

They each looked into the forest at the gently swinging light as it gradually appeared to get larger the more they watched. As the light approached, a vague sound could be heard, a haunting melody carried on the wind. The melody caressed their ears, making them feel safe, secure in the embrace of a comforting tune.

Suddenly, the light stopped growing and the melody drifted away. Stillness crept silently around the four figures.

‘Hello,' crooned a honeyed-voice. ‘The trees told me there were strangers approaching, so I thought I'd come along and welcome you.' The honeyed-voice hung in the air, each syllable dripping slowly into sound. ‘Once welcomed,' continued the honeyed-voice, ‘you're no longer strangers. So nice.'

The light had approached a little closer as the honeyed-voice spoke, but all that was visible in the veil-like darkness was a slender figure encased in a voluminous cloak. Beneath the lantern light the deep hood revealed little more than the occasional glint of dark eyes dancing in the shadows.

‘Are we supposed to know you?' enquired Ben peering into the hooded depths.

‘I don't think so, handsome,' replied the voice. ‘But I'm sure we can overcome such trivial details.'

Ben, feeling his neck and cheeks flush with embarrassment, nodded to his companions.

‘There's four of us,' he said indicating the others.

‘Never been a problem before,' chuckled the hooded figure. ‘I'll tell my sisters to expect guests.' Turning away, the hooded figure paused. ‘Don't stay out in the cold. Follow me.'

Feeling too tired to argue or even question where they were being led, the four trudged wearily in the dull glow from the lantern.

Time and distance seemed far to long for the tired bodies. Finally, the hooded figure stopped as the trees suddenly moved to one side to reveal an outline of buildings that appeared darker than the night itself. Scarcely aware of any detail in the buildings, the four exhausted figures just about managed to remain upright as the hooded figure opened the door to one of the buildings.

‘Here you are my sweet ones, rest your pretty heads and we'll tend to your needs first thing in the morning.' The figure moved away from the door and began to walk into the shadows. ‘Goodnight my loves, sleep tight.'

Cautiously edging his way to the door, Ben tried to peer inside the interior of the building. In the blackness he could see nothing but the smell of freshly laundered sheets and a waft of warm, lavender tinted air, caressed his senses and lured him in. The other three hovered anxiously around the open doorway wondering what might have happened to Ben.

‘Ben?' called Mak into the inky stillness. There was no reply other than a gentle snoring coming from deep within the room.

‘Sounds comfortable,' murmured Trep and, without another word, he too disappeared into the darkness.

‘If they've taken the only two beds,' growled Mak as both he and Noj bustled into the welcoming interior.

A few moments later, the hooded figure emerged from the shadows, the honeyed-voice gently singing a lullaby that drifted through the doorway and embraced each of the sleeping figures. With a quiet chuckle, the figure closed the door on the four travellers.