The Search for Truth (19 page)

“What are the right reasons?” Bethany asked. “Just to do it because the quest told him to? Is that enough?”

“There is more, of course.” The Hermit gazed at Erec. “You know those girls, the Fates. Always something up their sleeves. There is a reason they want you to find this vial and connect it to the five Awen.”

They all waited for the Hermit to go on. Instead he began to whistle contentedly.

“Well?” Bethany asked. “What is the reason?”

King Piter covered his face with his hand and shook his head. “It would fix the Substance.
If
you survived, which is doubtful.”

The Hermit nodded. “Oooh, nothing big. Just that. Setting the Substance permanently, so it won't leak away anymore. So Upper Earth won't die in ten years. But no pressure.” He twiddled his thumbs. “You do whatever you think is right.”

“Wait a minute!” Erec felt tricked. “I thought the last thing I did, freeing the bee-hind, fixed the Substance for Upper Earth.”

“It did.” The Hermit nodded. “For about ten years. The king told you—”

“I know.” Erec gestured toward the king. “But he is going to fix it by then, I thought.”

The king shrugged. “I'll certainly try. I've been trying for centuries.”

That didn't inspire Erec's confidence. “Well…well…” He thought about the idea from all angles. “Why did the Fates want me to bother freeing the bee-hind before I did this? Wouldn't that have been a waste of time since this will fix things more?”

“Not really.” The Hermit examined his hands. “That was easier. Good to do that first, in case you fail at this quest.”

That sent a chill through Erec. He might fail? He really might die? That wasn't what he wanted to hear.

“Also,” the Hermit added, “if you succeed at freezing the Substance where it is, better that the bee-hind is loose, spreading it around where it needs to go. Good that it's not frozen all clumped up like that.”

The king shook his head. “This is still impossible. He's supposed to get the Twrch Trwyth from Olwen Cullwich? Olwen doesn't have it anymore. Remember? After having his life threatened
several
times, he destroyed it.”

The Hermit grinned. “I guess that will be Erec's problem.”

The king relaxed, seeming content that Erec could never find the Twrch Trwyth vial so he wouldn't be in such terrible danger.

Erec asked the king, “Do you know Olwen Cullwich?”

“Yes. A very good man. Olwen is a scientist, a sorcerer, and he was a viceroy in my court. A long time ago he wore the Twrch Trwyth around his neck. His mother passed it on to him to protect. It had been in their family for generations. He kept it secret, of course. You would not find a wiser and gentler person than Olwen.” He chuckled. “I'll never forget the pie incident.”

The Hermit joined in laughing.

“What pie incident?” asked Bethany.

“Olwen loved pies. We had a celebration for his birthday one year, and Hecate Jekyll, our head chef then, baked twelve kinds of pies in
his honor. You should have seen the look on Olwen's face when he found out.” The king's gaze misted over, reliving old times. “But we never expected what would happen.” Deep belly laughs erupted from the king. “We had a clown at the celebration. And the next thing you know, Olwen had a pie in his face. A cherry one, I think, was the first one.”

“The first?” Jack raised his eyebrows.

“Yes. Olwen froze a moment in shock, then he decided to get even. He picked up some kind of cream pie and aimed it at the clown, but that clown just batted the pie right back into Olwen's face. It got ridiculous, Olwen picked up another, but he was so sticky that it slipped to the ground. I think he stepped in that one. And when he picked up a blueberry pie—I remember blueberry getting all over the whipped cream—he slipped on the pie on the ground and got the blueberry pie in his own face. I don't know how many pies he went through trying to get that clown back. Maybe all of them. But the clown ended up clean as a whistle. And poor Olwen was covered, head to toe.” He chortled.

The talk of pie was making Erec hungry for one. “But what did he do with the Twrch Trwyth?”

The king grew solemn. “A day or two after the pie incident, something else happened to Olwen. He almost lost his life. He was captured by a rogue sorcerer who tried to make him talk….” He paused. “It wasn't pleasant. And Olwen barely survived. He knew keeping the Twrch Trwyth was a great responsibility. It could not fall into the wrong hands. But there was also no good that would come from keeping it. The only reasonable thing was to get rid of it. So he did that, many years ago.”

The king's forehead wrinkled in thought. “This whole thing with the Twrch Trwyth is crazy, though. It's gone. I don't know what will happen with the scepters if you cannot complete all of your quests. That didn't happen when we were going through this process. I guess
we'll just have to see how it plays out.” He shrugged. “Nothing is the same this time, especially since you are doing the quests alone.”

That reminded Erec of the two other people that could have been helping him. He certainly could use the assistance.

“So, he might not be able to complete the quest? Are you saying this is impossible?” Bethany asked.

The king nodded. “I'm afraid so. Even if Olwen did have the Twrch Trwyth vial, how would Erec ever get the five Awen? Are they just going to unlodge themselves for him?”

“Yes,” the Hermit said. “That's exactly what they will do. He owns their master.”

Everyone turned to him in shock. “I do?” Erec asked.

“In your backpack,” the Hermit said. “You have one of the singing crystals.”

So the crystal that the Swami had given him controlled the Awen somehow?

King Piter leaned back in surprise.

“Erec must make this choice himself,” the Hermit said. “He knows what he is facing, his odds. But only he can secure the Substance to save Upper Earth.”

Erec nodded. No problem. He just had to do what no powerful sorcerer had ever done before—and somehow not die in the process.

 

Erec pulled up his hooded sweatshirt, and Bethany and Jack wore hats so they would be harder to spot by flying Harpies. Olwen Cullwich lived in Alypium. They decided to pay him a visit sooner rather than later. Baskania knew what this quest was now, too. No doubt the Harpy had showed the paper to him. If the Twrch Trwyth still existed, Baskania would want it for himself.

“I can't think of Olwen Cullwich now without thinking about twelve pies in his face and all over him,” Erec said.

“He sounds like a nice guy,” said Bethany. “I bet he'll help us if he knows where the Trwyth Boar vial is.”

“He's gotta know,” Erec said. “I mean, that's what my quest is. To get the Twrch Trwyth from Olwen Cullwich. Not to find it somewhere else.”

Jack nodded. “This guy is a scientist who was in the king's court. He's going to want to help you save the Substance, I'm sure.”

They kept their heads down on their way to the street where Olwen Cullwich lived. The sun had set, and Erec was glad it was dark outside.

“There it is!” Bethany pointed. Light shone from all of the rooms in the small home. When they grew nearer, voices rang through an open window downstairs.

“Maybe we better check it out first,” Erec said. They crept in front of the house and peeked in.

Standing near the window was Thanatos Baskania, his black cape flowing. Erec could see two open eyes on his forehead, one on his cheek, and one on his chin. A man and woman nearby him, each wearing an eye patch, were tearing books off shelves, dumping out drawers.

The man who must have been Olwen Cullwich was motionless at the far end of the room, facing them. His well-combed gray hair and neat clothing made him look just as Erec had pictured him. He seemed familiar, as if Erec had known him long ago. But his bright blue eyes were wide with fear. He stood in an odd position, which made Erec sure that Baskania had frozen him to the spot.

But he was still able to talk. “I'm telling you, I don't have it. I haven't had it for years. Your…pals will find that out when they're done ransacking my house.”

Erec, Bethany, and Jack wedged themselves into a row of hedges in front of the house where they could still see and hear through the window.

Baskania sighed. “Dear Olwen, you don't understand. I happen to have evidence. It was decreed by the Fates that you give the vial to somebody. Now I just need to make sure that it will be me. If you want to keep your house neat and tidy, just tell me where it is, and we'll call this search party off. Simple. Or we can do it the hard way.”

Erec couldn't believe it. Why had he waited to come here? Now Baskania would get the Trwyth Boar. Not that Olwen Cullwich would want to give it to him, he was sure. He hoped that Olwen could think of a way to fend off Baskania until Erec could talk to him alone.

Then Erec realized that he was probably lucky that he had arrived now, shrouded in darkness. This house would be watched around the clock when Baskania was not here. They would be waiting for Erec to show up so they could catch him.

Other people with eye patches poured into the room. “We can't find anything,” one of them said in a deep voice. “We used the magic detectors and found a few other choice objects that we took apart and searched. But no vial.”

“Then look again.” Baskania glowered. “Tear the walls apart.”

Olwen spoke through gritted teeth. “It's…not…here. How can I make you understand that?”

Baskania tilted his head as though he was considering this possibility. “Well, now that you put it that way, I do know ways you can help me understand better.” He pointed a finger and a small puff of dark smoke flew from it.

Olwen screamed in pain. “Aaaannh! Stop. Stop. Please. I'll tell you anything. Please, make it stop!”

Baskania lifted his finger and blew on it like it was a match. Olwen's head drooped. “So you're ready to talk?”

Olwen nodded.

“Good.” Baskania looked thoughtful, then he pointed again and a white puff of smoke shot from his finger. “This will ensure that when
you do speak, everything that you say will be true.” He smiled. “Now, when did you first get the Trwyth Boar?”

Olwen spoke slowly. “It was passed down to me from my mother, from her father, from many generations back. My mother gave it to me to guard when I was thirty-five.”

“Very good.” Baskania smiled, like a teacher helping a slow pupil. “I'm sure this is a prize I will very much like having. Now, where do you keep it, Olwen?”

“I
don't
. I no longer have the Twrch Trwyth.”

“Hmmm. It seems the truth spell was not strong enough for you.” He shot another white puff from his finger. “Or do you need the other kind of persuasion again?”

“No!” Olwen shouted. “I'm talking. What do you want to know?”

“Where is the vial?”

“I don't have it. I swear. I got rid of it. Too many people were after me for it. It was too dangerous for me to keep. And I had no use for it other than to guard it. It's gone.”

Baskania tapped his chin. “You don't say. Well, then, let's hear it. Who did you give it to? Not that they could have it. I know it's on you, somewhere. But I'd like to hear your story anyway.”

“I couldn't give it to anyone,” Olwen said. “It was far too powerful. My father warned me that there was nobody I could trust with it. I had to get rid of it another way.”

“Ahh. Now we're getting somewhere. What other way did you choose?”

Olwen mumbled something and looked away.

“What is that? I'm sorry, you'll need to speak clearer. That is, if you want to live.”

Olwen eyed him darkly. “I swallowed it. I researched the best way to dispose of it before I decided. It was recommended as a way to cover up its magic, so it might not be found again someday in the future. I
had to try my best to do that, since I was giving up my duty guarding it. Swallowing it changed it. When it went through my system, the magic was rearranged so it would stay hidden wherever it went.”

Baskania regarded him with an odd expression. “You swallowed it.” He was quiet a moment. “This can only mean one thing. But just to be safe, we will wait until the search party is finished.”

People trickled in and out as the room was slowly chipped away. Baskania stood quietly, and Olwen gazed around, still paralyzed. Finally, it was decided that the vial was not in the house.

Baskania nodded. “You may all go now. Leave Olwen here with me.”

Erec trembled as Baskania's one-eyed followers poured from the house. He shrunk farther back into the bushes with his friends.

Baskania spoke again. “Olwen, I'm afraid there is only one answer. If you swallowed the Twrch Trwyth”—he counted on one finger—“and we know that you still have it”—he counted on another—“then that means it is still inside you.” He ticked off a third finger and sighed. “Such a shame.”

“That's ridiculous.” Olwen sounded desperate. “It's absurd. I swallowed it over eight years ago after eating a slice of pie. That pie isn't still in me, either.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Baskania shook his head. “Sometimes we live to pay the price for our poor decisions. Well, regardless, I am going to find the Trwyth Boar. I think I'll help you a little, though, keep you alive as long as possible, in case you have more to say to me.” He raised both hands, curved as if they were claws, and streaks of green light shot from them into Olwen. “That should do it.”

Olwen looked crazed. “What are you doing?”

“Just finishing the search,” Baskania said. In front of their eyes, he made a motion and Olwen Cullwich ripped, his left half splitting from his right half, straight down the middle. The man, amazingly, was still
alive, although his insides were spilling out. Each leg staggered a bit, but was held upright by Baskania's magic.