The Legacy of Mount Drood

Chapter 9

The hours passed and he strode steadily onward, thrashing a path through the fronds ahead of him with his staff, slowing only slightly to take nourishment from the rations in his pack. As evening drew close, the brilliant colours of the plain began to meld into a dark grey making it difficult to separate land from sky. Jep waited as long as he dared, then took out one of the tiny blue balls Prize had given him. Following her instructions, he popped it into his mouth and swallowed it with a generous gulp of water from his skin.

Within moments, the night turned to an eerie pink, and he could see the grass, hillocks, horizon and sky all clearly defined. It was an amazing sensation to actually see in the dark. Encouraged, he moved faster through the night, without stopping, and eating only as necessary.

With first appearance of the sun, the effect of the tiny ball wore off, and Jep's vision returned to normal once again. He felt strangely energized in spite of going without sleep or rest for so long and when he glimpsed the change in the landscape ahead, he knew he'd reached the end of the Great Plain—or so he thought. A loud chattering noise reached him from the grass not too far ahead. He slowed his pace and cautiously poked ahead gingerly with his staff.

"Yaaagh!" The cry gave Jep a mighty start. He leaped forward, ready to do battle, and stopped short. A tiny person stood rubbing his backside and frowning at Jep. "Ye poketh me, but why?"

"I-I- uh, I'm sorry- I didn't..."

"I do but worketh at my task, how have I offendeth ye?" The little man adjusted the rope around his waist and picked up the rather wicked looking knife he'd dropped.

Jep spread his hands, "No! No, you didn't- haven't... offended me. It was an unfortunate accident. I heard this noise and I—"

"Noise! Ye thinketh my song a noise!"

Jep shrugged helplessly and offered his most humble apology, which the funny little man seemed to both accept and ignore, as he continued his work and his song.

Jep studied the rope tied about the man's waist and the fact that it trailed off behind him into the bushes at the edge of the plain. "Why do you have that rope about your waist, sir?"

The man looked at him as though he was crazy. "The Loamites, you fool."

"Loamites?"

The man stopped again, clearly annoyed, and lectured Jep about the hostility between the Loamites, the race that lived in a labyrinth of tunnels beneath the plain, and his people, the Huths. The grass, which the man called Huthwheat was a main staple in the Huths' diet but the roots were a special delicacy to the Loamites, and so harvesting the Huthwheat was potentially dangerous. If the Loamites happened to grab onto a Huth worker, the rope tenders at the edge of the plain could haul him to safety.

As Jep stood and listened, suddenly the ground collapsed and the worker began sinking into the soil. Jep reached forward to help but before he could do anything, the little man burst out of the hole and flew backwards through the air, bouncing out of sight. Surprised, he looked down, saw that he too was in danger of sinking into the ground, and broke into a run toward edge of the plain.

His escape was short lived as he found himself facing a band of miniature workers, all brandishing gleaming, and deadly looking knives. Behind the group stood a group of wagons loaded with bales of the grass and tended by the tiny females of the race.

"He beeth no more than a fool." The rescued worker spoke up. "Let him on his way."

There was grumbling and mumbling but the group parted, leaving a pathway for Jep to pass through. "I seek a place named Nygard. Maybe you could help me find its direction."