Ian the Lurker's Nightmare

Ian stared woozily into a hazy sky. He had found a rich patch of grubs underneath a patch of weeds, and had mined them. He had salvaged one small skillet, a knife, and a bottle from the wreck of his fortunes. The skillet was being put to use, as the fat bugs were being fried into the stock to make a palatable soup. The knife had helped him chop the frame of a broken cart into firewood. But the bottle was empty of the soothing spirits that he craved, and Ian was forced to live on food and water.

With no shelter, and no friends, Ian knew he was doomed, as surely if he were cast about at sea and clutching driftwood. His end might come in the next hour, or within the next few days, but it would either come through slow starvation, through sickness, or through a knife in his body if someone had spotted him.

The most terrible thing, he thought to himself, was the injustice of it all. There were many things that he could have gone to the workhouse for, or perhaps had gotten stripes. But banishment? And for trying to do the right thing, for once! But no good deed goes unpunished, he thought. The spies, who were aiding and abetting the vicious harpies, were living the high life. And the harpy had gotten away.

He thought about what he should do. He needed a gill of booze, just to take the edge off, so that he could think. Booze would set his mind right, so he would not see things. Like the giant blue lizard the night before. Or the dancing maidens from the night before that, that turned into a herd of oxen, before disappearing in the haze. He had heard that terrible things happened if one were completely sober, but he did not understand this until now. Ian cried, wishing from the depths of his soul to be allowed back into Westmark, so that he could get just a sip of the sharp, hard stuff before expiring.

He looked up in the trees. It was another hallucination mocking him. It was speaking to him. It looked like a young girl had climbed one of the Pilerasters, which were a group of rock columns. If this was not a hallucination, then she was an unbelievable climber.

He heard a voice. "Excuse me, sir."

It was at least a polite hallucination. "Wha?" Ian answered.

"Would you happen to know the way to Grand Lake? I have to go into the Eveninglands, and once I am at Grand Lake, I can find my way."

"Wha? Why? Why you wanna go to Gran Lake? Itz much betta thaway," Ian slurred, as he pointed toward the East. Ian knew from experience that the hallucination was not going to go away. He learned that it was best just to play along, but not do anything that would get him killed.

"Sir, it is a task that I have to do. I would rather not be leaving, but I can't return until I finish my mission."

Ian looked up weakly. He wishes that the hallucination would go away, so he could at least finish dinner. There was something that bothered him about this woman. Something vaguely familiar.

"I wish I cou' go bah." Then he said, "I know da way. I know it well. But I'm sick. I can't make it." Ian strained as he tried to shout up to the woman on the Pilaster. If he were in his right mind, he would ask her to come down. But there was something about her. Like maybe she would suck his blood or something.

"That's too bad. What are you sick with? Maybe I can help?"

What a boring hallucination, Ian thought. She should be spitting fire or speaking in tongues, or something like that. He would just play along.

"My toad is par'ed, and my belly is weak. I need nuwicous, life suswainin yooce. Gimme a gallon of Qan's Numma One Whiskey, and I will guide you."

"Where can I find this Whiskey?"

"Ah, Gawd, you aren from Wesmark, are ya? Everyone knows Qan's. All roads goda Qan's."

Ian was now making eye contact with the woman. He thought that now was about the time that something bizarre should happen.

"So, where is Westmark? Just point it out to me."

Ian smiled. He pointed east by southeast. Good luck getting there, he thought. There was a ravine between here and there. She probably could not get past the robbers in any case. As a matter of fact, if he surprised her when she climbed down, he might get some coins that he could redeem for something liquid.

"Don't leave. I will be back", she said. She stretched her wings and flew away. Ian's jaw dropped. "I hope to God that was a hallucination," he thought.

The next morning, the woman was back on top of the pillar.

1. She had a small bottle of booze.
2. As far as Ian could tell, she came back emptyhanded. Or winged. It was hard to tell.

Add New Option

Go Back

View Forward Story Tree
View Back Story Tree