Richard Tuttle - Island of Darkness

“No,” sniffed MistyTrail. “We cannot leave now.”

“Why not?” frowned Mistake. “This is obviously not the place to ask for directions.”

“Didn’t you see that last man that was forced to go down the rope?” questioned MistyTrail.

“The one who was whipped?” countered Mistake. “Of course I saw him. What about him?”

“Didn’t you notice anything strange about him?” asked MistyTrail.

“Strange?” frowned Mistake. “Not really. I was more focused on the big guy with the whip. He is not someone that I would like to meet. I bet he could wrestle with those large apes and win. What was so strange about the man he whipped?”

“He wasn’t wearing a hat like the rest,” answered MistyTrail.

“So maybe he lost it when he was whipped,” scowled Mistake. “What is wrong with you? You are starting to cry. Tell me what you saw that has distressed you so.”

“His ears,” sniffed MistyTrail. “He had pointy ears like us. We can’t possibly leave now.”

“No, we can’t,” Mistake said softly as she scurried to the edge.

MistyTrail wiped her eyes and scooted forward alongside Mistake. They peered down into the room looking for any other workers who were not wearing hats. They watched for hours, but there were none. Suddenly the wheel stopped moving. The ape-like creatures stopped pushing the wheel and strode off down one of the tunnels. There was no traffic passing through the room. MistyTrail tapped Mistake and moved back from the edge.

“You keep watch,” MistyTrail said. “I am going back to the cave to get some food. Is it alright if we just share one piece of meat?”

“That will be fine,” nodded Mistake. “Be careful.”

MistyTrail turned and left. Mistake crawled forward and kept watch on the chamber. She had not been watching long when she heard MistyTrail returning. She pushed back from the edge and was surprised to see that MistyTrail had brought the rope with her.

“What is that for?” asked Mistake as she accepted half of the dried meat.

“How else can we get down there?” retorted the Sakovan warrior.

“Get down there?” Mistake asked in horror. “Please tell me that you are joking. We are not going down there.”

“We said that we were going to look for our family,” pouted MistyTrail. “How can we not go down there?”

“So he has pointy ears,” argued Mistake. “Maybe he suffered the same quirk of fate that we did. His ears do not make him our relative.”

“Have you ever met anyone else who has ears like us?” asked MistyTrail. “Have you?”

“No,” admitted Mistake. “At least not until I met you, but that is no reason to do something foolish.”

“Just hold one end of the rope,” scowled MistyTrail. “You won’t have to go down.”

“No,” Mistake replied adamantly. “I spent my whole life searching for you. I will not let you throw your life away.”

“Fine,” retorted MistyTrail. “I will just hang from the ledge and drop.”

MistyTrail tried to move her legs to the edge, but Mistake grabbed her.

“Must you do this?” sighed Mistake.

“I have to,” sniffed MistyTrail. “I have to know who he is. Please help me.”

“But he is down the hole,” protested Mistake. “You can’t get down there without the apes.”

“I just want to get his hat,” explained MistyTrail. “He must have dropped it when he was whipped. The timing is perfect right now. There is no one around.”

“Alright,” Mistake shook her head. “You just grab the hat and get back up here. Do you promise?”

“I promise,” MistyTrail nodded vigorously as she grabbed the rope and began lowering one end to the floor below.

“Make it quick,” urged Mistake as she wrapped the rope around herself and found a rock to brace her feet on. “They probably stopped for the midday meal. They won’t be gone for long.”

MistyTrail grabbed the rope and swung her feet over the edge. She slid down the rope as fast as she could. When her feet hit the floor, she looked around nervously to see if anyone was nearby. Seeing no one around, she dashed for the tunnel that the man had emerged from. She peered along the tunnel and could not see the end of it. She ran into the tunnel.

Mistake watched her sister disappear into the tunnel. She chewed nervously on her lip as she waited. Suddenly, the whip man appeared out of one of the tunnels. Mistake cringed with fear. The man walked to the wheel and peered into the hole in the floor. He grumbled under his breath and stormed off down a different tunnel.

“Hurry, MistyTrail,” Mistake said softly to herself.

Mistake heard the whip man bellowing loudly and cracking his whip. The growls that followed let Mistake know that the apes were the targets of the man’s abuse. She began to sweat profusely as she silently urged MistyTrail to hurry.

Finally, MistyTrail emerged from the tunnel she raced across the floor, and Mistake felt the tension on the rope. Mistake held the rope tightly as her eyes remained glued on the entrance to the tunnel that the apes would use to return. MistyTrail pulled herself over the edge, and Mistake frantically pulled in the rope. She just managed to get the end of the rope as the apes stormed into the room. She exhaled her held breath, and turned to stare at MistyTrail.

“Did you find it?” she asked.

MistyTrail grinned and pulled the hat from her belt.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” warned Mistake. “I would rather be in danger myself than fear for you when I cannot help. What do we do with it now that you have it?”

“We wait for him to return from the hole,” answered MistyTrail. “Maybe we can use the hat to signal him.”

“And hope that he doesn’t point us out to everyone else,” frowned Mistake. “I do not like this plan.”

Mistake and MistyTrail watched the large chamber for hours. Most of the activity was centered around the large apes rotating the large wheel and people moving from one tunnel to another. Very few people made use of the bucket elevator until late in the day. When people did start to come up in the buckets, it was a steady stream. Over an hour passed before an empty bucket was seen coming up from below. They watched carefully for the man without a hat. As the stream of people riding the buckets turned into a trickle, MistyTrail sighed in frustration.

“Maybe he isn’t coming up,” whispered Mistake.

“He will be coming,” retorted MistyTrail. “We will wait. He may be our brother. We can’t leave him here.”

“Our brother?” asked Mistake. “Do you really think we could just accidentally end up in this cave and stumble upon our long lost brother? I spent years looking for you.”

“How else can you explain his ears?” countered MistyTrail. “It must be a family trait.”

“A family trait?” echoed Mistake. “Don’t be silly. He is probably just descended from the ancient elves like we are.”

“Elves?” questioned MistyTrail. “What are you talking about? There are no elves.”

“Maybe not,” responded Mistake, “but there used to be.”

“You are crazy,” MistyTrail shook her head. “You are beginning to sound like HawkShadow. He always used to tease me about being an elf. There is no such thing.”

“You can’t just wish away history,” retorted Mistake. “The elves may indeed be long gone, but they did exist. I have read ancient scrolls in Fakara that speak of them.”

“They are probably just stories made up for children,” argued MistyTrail.

“Hardly,” countered Mistake. “They are the same scrolls that talk about the Torak, the Astor, and the Star. Do you believe those are just tales for children?”