The Yellow Pine

Chapter 17 - A Little Trip

B'loga chittered as he sprinted through the brush. Maisie followed, giggling as she leapt over logs and piles of leaves, her breath misting the air ahead of her. The path curved down the pitted hill, and Maisie trotted daintily along it, nimbly missing the snares and pitfalls that lie beneath the needles, waiting to break an ankle. The underbrush glittered with a crust of ice that crunched gently under her snow boots.

Stopping suddenly, she looked around at the forest surrounding her. Another Zoog poked its sleek head around a tree to the left, and another to the right. B'loga sniffed excitedly around his kin. "Who are they? Why are they all here?" Maisie started in surprise. "Cousins." B'loga's round, tri-pupiled eyes glowed green in the shadows. "Hunting." "But, how did they get here?" B'loga lifted his scrawny arm and pointed with a gnarled finger. Maisie recognized the place where they had entered from the Dreamlands. The ground was sere and yellow, everything in a large, spreading circle dying or dead.

She soon found, to her great disappointment, that the portal only worked for entering from the Dreamlands, and not for going back. She walked through it over and over again, coming from different directions, closing her eyes, murmuring under her breath, but each time came out right back in the same forest, never passing through to the Dreamlands. Frustrated, she realized that the only way for her to enter was in her sleep.

That night, she traveled further than she ever had before. Out of the Enchanted Woods, through Hir and Ulthar, she followed the River Skarn down to the great port city of Dylath-Leen. The buildings towered at odd angles, shining black basalt glittering in the setting sun. She passed through the gates and began to make her way carefully down twisting and unpredictable streets to the port itself. She had heard that there were great Black Galleys that sailed right off the edge of the world and to the moon. If Carcosa were, in fact, another planet, then maybe she could get one of the ships' captains to take here there.

The smell of rotting kelp and dead fish assaulted her sinuses as she drew closer to the piers. She crinkled her nose and tried to breathe through her mouth. The dockworkers milled around, shifting boxes and crates from one dock to another, each wearing a thick bandana around his face to mask the wretched smell. Maisie likewise pulled her shirt up over her mouth and nose and continued on. Moored a bit further down, separate from all the other ships sat a vast squat Black Galley. The crew stood about, sternly watching the dockworkers from underneath the heavy turbans that piled on top of their heads like whipped cream on a sundae. Swallowing thickly and trying to ignore the stench, Maisie walked brusquely towards the gangplank, intending to beg passage aboard with the first crewman she came across. Just as she reached the end of the wooden ramp, a rough hand grasped her by the shoulder and yanked her back. She stumbled backwards in surprise and fell, landing squarely on her rump on the slick, oily boards of the dock.

"Jes' whatchoo think yur doin'?" The surly, mud-splattered dockworker loomed over her with a glare. He reached down, grabbing her tightly by the shoulders, and lifted her to her feet as though she weighed less than a feather. "You'ns don't need to be a-pokin' about these ships, gurl. Them kind are dangerous," he continued, jerking a calloused thumb back over his shoulder. Maisie brushed at her wet butt, trying to regain some of her lost dignity. "I'm going to catch a ride, if you don't mind." She tried her best to sound grown-up and important, but instead, the words came out petulant and snotty. Folding his thick, muscled arms across his barrel chest, the dockworker placed himself firmly between the little girl and the ship. "Naw, you ain't. Nobody but slaves is taken aboard, and thems that goes out don't never come back. Jes' whereabouts you tryin' to go?" Maisie weighed her options. She could try to duck between the big man's legs or around him and get on board, but what then? She didn't know that the crew would let her on, and if they did, she had no idea what they would charge for passage. On top of that, there was no evidence that the ships ever went any further than the moon, and Carcosa could be in another galaxy for all she knew. The man's words had shaken her, and she realized that she hadn't thought her plan out very well. "I just need to get somewhere," she mumbled.

The man's name turned out to be Hillk, and he had insisted that Maisie follow him home and have dinner with his family. His wife, Kygna, served them a thick, pungent fish stew, which was washed down with a foamy, green beverage that tasted like muddy kelp. Over dinner, the couple told Maisie what they knew of Carcosa, which wasn't much more than what she already knew. It wasn't part of this world, it was ruled by The King in Yellow, and that it could be even more dangerous than the Dreamlands. As she thanked them, and started to leave, the youngest child, who had been silent up to this point, suddenly blurted out, "Ain't you'ns gonna to tell her 'bout the Black Labyrinth?" Hillk and Kynga shushed him, but the damage was already done. Maisie turned back to the family, fixing her gaze on the two adults. "What Black Labyrinth?" Kynga shook her head sadly. "We wasn't gonna tell you. It's jes' about as evil a place as ever was, but they's ways through to get to jes' about anywheres once you get inside, ifn's you'ns survive. I s'pose you'ns could even get to Carcosa from there. But ain't nobody knows how to make it through. Ain't no point goin' in there and gettin' all lost and such."

Thanking them again, Maisie headed off for her new destination. The Black Labyrinth. It lay on the outskirts of Dyleth-Leen, a short, square building with a single opening. It looked no bigger than a tool shed, and the corners made her eyes want to cross. Something about the angles was all wrong to her eyes, like they shouldn't quite meet up the way they did. Steeling herself for what lie ahead, Maisie stepped forward and passed through the narrow, crooked door.