We've read through the first part of the P.A.T.H., and I know everyone is dying to read more. But in the morning, we wake up and Tarna makes an announcement.
"Listen up, people! I know we're all excited to read that Bestowing stuff, but we have to focus on the riddle now. Whoever wrote these notes and books could apparently see into the future. He or she also said that the riddle was extremely important, so we have to guess that it's urgent. So don't even try looking for the P.A.T.H., I hid it. So you might as well take a crack at the riddle." We all groan, and despite Tarna's speech, we go looking for the book. No one finds it, and so we're forced to work our brains on the riddle.
Everything falls, after a while
It reaches the hand of the river
The hand offers trade
It shows you the way
To the dead land of the other
"Rivers have mouths and bodies. No hands," Rolly says with a frown.
"Maybe there's a hand shaped stream coming out of the water or something," Person suggests.
"Okay, but can the river trade?" Rolly asks. Person frowns, thoroughly stumped.
"I think this is the hardest riddle yet," Cass moans. "And the others were really hard!" We all nod in agreement and think as hard as we can. How does one trade with a river to reach a dead land?
***
Allen's footsteps fall in a dark room, as always. The sound echoes around the room, and the noise reaches a shadowy form.
"Yes. Yes, that's child's play."
"But this child plays with swords and dangerous comrades," Allen replies to the dark form.
"Don't matter," the form says. "I've hunted things more dangerous then you can imagine. No, job is easy. I just got one question: what do I get out of it?" The question echoes around the room for a moment, and then Allen laughs.
"Well, you get to continue living, for starters." The dark shape shows no panic or surprise.
"And?"
"And I suppose I could offer you 50 gold." Although shadows conceal the figure, its plain that there's a smile on its face.
"You got yourself a deal." The dark form exits the room, and Allen's solid black eyes turn to a lighter gray.
"Oh, Wrive," he whispers. "Why do you involve yourself in things that are so much bigger then you? Now look look what you've brought upon yourself."
***
"Rivers... hands... dead lands..." Cass moans. We've been thinking for about two hours, and no one has had any ideas. It just doesn't make sense. Rivers don't have hands, and they can't trade, and they can't lead us to dead lands!
"I'm going to look at the note again," I sigh. "Maybe we missed something."
After triple checking, I add mentally. I drag my tired self over to the stump where the note is sitting. Everything's the same. And then, before my eyes, the note begins to change.
YOU ARE READING
The Lost ( A Sequel To The Forgotten )
FantasiWrive Tacking and his friends aren't exactly what you'd call "normal". For instance, most people don't spend their time running from crazy industries that would love to lock them to large machines and experiment on them. ( A.K.A Ultra Tech. ) "Norma...
