Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 7

Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 7

  by Christopher D. Carter, © 2013

  Text and Illustration Copyright © 2013 Christopher D. Carter

  All Rights Reserved

  Also by Christopher D. Carter available at ebook retailers:

  Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 1

  Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 2

  Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 3

  Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 4

  Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 5

  Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 6

  Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound Annual 1

  Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound Annual 2

  Discover other titles by Christopher D. Carter at

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Next Issue

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  *

  Dead Forest

  *

  The road of clover stretched out across the grassy plain to the mountain ahead in the distance, and Pound still had no strategy for what he would do when he reached the mines. He had thought long and hard during the journey, but still no good plan came to mind. He was alone in a strange world, and the weight of the enslaved people that were held beneath the mountain burdened him like a noose tied around his neck.

  “What are you thinking about, stranger?” came a shadowy voice from behind. Startled, Pound jumped in fright and reached around to his back to retrieve the spear that he had taken from the tartan guard. Brandishing the thin lance in a defensive position, he spun around to find a diminutive jade-skinned man garbed in a clashing green suit, standing alone and staring up at him with a mischievous smile. He looked down at the sharp point of the spear, and then back up at Pound. “Feisty, one, aren’t you?” he remarked with a toothy grin.

  “You scared me, little fellow,” replied Pound, and seeing that the fellow intended no harm, he placed the spear in its holder on his back and bent down in a squatting position to look the fellow in the eyes. Pound could sense that the little man was not prone to violence, but there was something about him that set off a trouble alarm in his mind. Pound had experienced that sensation before, and it was usually fairly accurate on the planet Earth. Here in this world, Pound was more than wary of everyone that he met, and he would have to trust his feelings or else risk capture and imprisonment. “Can I help you?” queried Pound when he was certain that they were alone.

  “Help me? Well, that’s a strange question coming from a tartan soldier such as yourself. I would think by now that you’ve no help left to give since you helped yourself to my mountain,” replied the little fellow. Pound hesitated for a moment as he let this tidbit of information sink in. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s on your mind, or should I be on my way?”

  “Excuse me, but you mean to say that the mountain in the distance once belonged to you?” Pound asked.

  “I did not stutter. That is exactly what I am saying,” the dwarf replied grumpily. “I would think that all of the tartan guards would know their own history.”

  “That may be true, if I were a tartan guard,” Pound explained. “Actually, I was cold last night, so I borrowed this outfit to keep warm.”

  “Do not take me for a fool, warrior. I know a tall tale when I hear one, fellow,” the dwarf replied with a wink. “I’ve told a few myself.”

  “Tall tales? That doesn’t seem likely,” said Pound as he sized the little fellow up.

  “Go ahead and finish telling me your story then, tall one!” the dwarf said with a wink. Pound thought it over for a moment and decided that he could afford to have some help in freeing Crush and the others beneath the mountain.

  “Very well, if I may, little one. I am not from this world. In fact, I am from a placed called earth, and I am headed to the mountain in this disguise in order to free my friend who was captured by the prince,” said Pound in an effort to see what the truth would bring out in this native of the realm. “However, I am undecided as to how to accomplish such a feat just yet.”

  “My name is Shad, and it’s a good thing for you that I stumbled across you before you went in front of the prince,” said the little man with a wink. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper. “This is a map,” he continued as he held it above his head for Pound to examine.

  “I see. A map of what, I might ask,” remarked Pound with only a faint interest. Time was wasting, and he did not wish to waste any more valuable time on the little green fellow.

  “This is a map of the upper chambers of the mountain,” he replied as he unfolded the paper and held it for Pound to see. “The mountain and everything inside of it draws its power from a single stone. That stone is buried deep within the mountain, and the prince seeks to find the stone for the Queenmother,” he explained. “The stone will give the Queenmother the authority to rule the entire mountain, to hold up the great open spaces within the mines, and the ability to travel through portals to other lands. If she could do that, then your world would no longer be safe.” Pound listened intently and found himself captivated by Shad’s story. If what he said was true, the stone might be the key to traveling back home. It might also be the death of the slaves if it were removed before the mountain could be evacuated. No matter what happened on his journey to free Crush and the slaves, Pound would have to tread wisely and take each step into careful consideration before venturing forward.

  “So why don’t you get the stone,” asked Pound. He had learned to trust his instincts over the years, and he was not convinced that Shad’s motives were altogether pure.

  “I have tried to retrieve it from the mountain before myself, but I don’t have the strength,” Shad said with a hint of shame. “You could do it though, a big, strong, fellow like yourself.”

  “So, if I retrieve the stone, then what’s in it for you?” Pound asked wisely. “I’ll have to use it to get back to my world, and then you won’t have it any longer.”

  “Hmm, what’s in it for me? Why nothing of course,” Shad replied sheepishly. “Freedom of those enslaved is reason enough.” The words seemed noble, but Pound still questioned the motives of the little green man. There was more than a tinge of guile hidden somewhere behind his words, and he could not help but recall the appearance of a green man on earth, the very reason that he and Crush had been called out in the first place.

  “Very well then,” said Pound, crossing his arms and leaning forward. “Let’s see the map.” Shad did the exact opposite. He rolled the scroll into a tube and slipped it back into his jacket pocket.

  “You’ll have to trust me, sir,” he replied and snapped his fingers as he walked past Pound in the direction of the mountain. “Follow me, stranger.”

  With no other alternative available and with limited time to save Crush, Pound followed in behind the little man as he trudged forward down the clover road. Very shortly thereafter, Shad turned left from the clover road, leaving the path to journey downhill, and he ambled across a field to a long grassy hill where a narrow mesa stretched out before him.

  “We must travel through the Forest of Sticks first before coming to the pits,” the little fellow explained as he pointed to the dead woods below. It was a desolate forest in appearance, and Pound could tell from a distance that something was very wrong with the expanse of wood that lay beneath.

  “What happened to those trees?” asked Pound as he rubbed his chin in thought.

  “The trees have been dead for as long as I can recall,” Shad answered. “My brother and I, we were young and were never allowed to go in there. A dangerous
place, it is.”

  “But you expect us to go in there?” asked Pound as he tried to use his powers to feel out the interior of the forest for plant life. No messages were returned from within the great forest; the woodland was as dead as Shad had described it. When he turned to Shad for an answer, the little man just shrugged his shoulders as if he did not care for Pound’s question.

  “If you want to get the stone and set your friend free, then we have to go in there,” he answered with a stern face as he balled his fists at his sides. “Are you coming along, or have you given up already?”

  “I’ll follow,” Pound answered. “You don’t have to get angry,” he said as he strode back to the edge of the grassy hill and the perimeter of the dead forest where there was still some life, and he knelt down on one knee to pull at the grass with his hands. A fibrous rope wound itself from the blades of grass at his touch, and within a few moments he had collected a hundred feet of thin