That ended his brief flare of weakness. He reached out and grabbed the rope around her neck. He stood up and made her sit on the roughly flat surface of the Blade’s top bulky section. The thin strands of hard, black stone twisted and curved their way down until they connected with the bottom section. They looked like a clump of wires. Maybe, he thought, somehow that’s what they were.
“Sit there and don’t say another word,” he said as he wrapped the rope around her body twice and then strung the rope through the tight spaces between those strings of dark rock. Once he’d tied that off, he took a set of metal shackles from his pack and clamped them around the Alterant’s ankles, securing them to a couple of strands that bent out more than the others. There was no way she could get away, and the stone was far too heavy for her to drag and shuffle along in tiny steps.
Everything was set.
“Are you going to leave me here?” she asked, having lost her bravery from a minute before. “Let me die?”
“Yes and no.” He loved giving that answer, loved seeing the perplexed look that came over the Alterant’s face when he said it.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she responded.
Frazier placed the prepared sack of food and water next to her feet. “Just answering your question.” He stood up, then turned and started to walk away.
“Wait!” she screamed. “Please! I can help you. I’m the best of the best! Please don’t leave me here! Please!”
Frazier didn’t respond. He found it was better that way. He just kept walking, knowing it’d be easier to make it to the winking point without a huge block of stone on his back and dragging a prisoner behind him. Ignoring her desperate pleas, he reached the end of the swatch of vegetation and reentered the vast forest.
The Blade of Shattered Hope was almost complete.
Part 2
The Black Tree
Chapter
12
~
Sweet Digs
Mothball had to grab Sato and physically pull him away from the spectacle. The sight was just too hard to believe and had put him in a daze. Luckily the fighting clowns didn’t seem to notice them.
“Come on,” she yelled at him, dragging him across the field as easily as a sack of raked leaves. “Soon as those lugs take notice we’ve got one the likes of you, we’ll be the ones they be fightin’, not themselves—bet your buttons. Come on!”
Sato finally got his feet under him and regained his composure, walking quickly alongside Mothball as Rutger struggled to keep up. “What was that? Who are those people?”
“Bugaboo soldiers,” she replied. “Nasty people, they are. Completely insane.”
Sato forced out a chuckle. “They’re dressed like clowns and trying to stab each other with sharp swords. What makes you think they’re crazy?”
Mothball seemed to miss his sarcasm. “Not right in the head. Been crazy ever since the war ended, not knowing what to do when there’s no one to fight. Rutger, chop-chop, little man!”
Sato turned to see Rutger a good twenty feet behind them, pumping his short little arms as he tried his best to run. “Slow down!” the short man yelled. “Before I croak!”
They topped a small, sparsely wooded rise and headed down the other side. Once they were out of sight from the odd group of battling clowns, Mothball finally stopped and allowed Rutger to catch up. The poor man’s face was blood red—a cherry on top of a black ball. Sato expected a blur of insults and smart remarks from Rutger, but it was all the guy could do to breathe, heaving air in and out.
“I still don’t get it,” Sato said. “Who are those people?”
Mothball rolled her eyes, in a rare bad mood. “’Tis a long story and no time to tell it. Once we make it to me mum’s house, you can ask your questions. Can we go now?” She loomed over Rutger with her hands on her hips.
The robust little man looked up at her. “How far?”
“Just ’round the bend up yonder,” she answered, pointing toward a small paved lane that came out of a forest to their right and went over the next hill. “We can stop runnin’, we can. I ’spect them Bugaboos’ll be quite occupied for a spell. Come on.” She headed off for the road.
Sato looked at Rutger. “Do you know anything about these Bugaboo soldiers?”
Rutger shrugged, a movement that shook his whole body. “Enough not to bug Mothball about it. She has a long history with those nutsos. Let’s just get to her house and then we can talk about it.”
“Whatever,” Sato muttered, consumed with curiosity. Sword-fighting clowns were bad enough, and the fact that Mothball was scared of them only made it worse. He felt a disturbing chill that made him shudder. “Let’s go.”
Rutger started off down the hill, and Sato followed.
~
The road led to a cluster of homes surrounded by an enormously tall wall of roughly mortared stones. In fact, everything about the neighborhood was tall: the houses, the trees, the carriages and their horses. And once he got past the sheer size of it all, Sato was amazed at how medieval everything looked.
What kind of a world had Mothball grown up in?
She seemed to sense his thoughts. “Don’t ya worry, Master Sato. Plenty of fancy things in this Reality—cars and tellies and the like. We just enjoy livin’ the old-