The Search for Macadamia, a Quest Most Noble

CHAPTER 4 - ACADEMIA

Spencer lost his backpack in the sandstorm. Luckily, the bindle he'd found had two days' worth of rations. He'd traded half their rations for a torch and a sling before they left the village. Evie estimated they had marched five hundred miles when they finally stopped for the day—it was actually just under two miles. At the foot of the western slope, instead of eating, Spencer traded the rest of their rations to the nomads in exchange for safe passage up the mountain.

The tribe was camped for the night. Spencer and Evie rested on a patch of grass just outside the nomad camp. There they talked with a simmering excitement about what might be discovered tomorrow.

"I'm starving," Evie said, sniffing in the rich smell of broiled meat coming from the nomads. "What are we going to do for food?"

"What a weird name: Perish Caverns," Spencer said.

"If we get stranded and you die first," Evie said, "how long do I have to wait before I can eat you?"

"Three days. I mean, if you wanted to lure in greedy treasure hunters, wouldn't you call it Treasure Cave or something like that? Not something that sounds like Death Hole."

"Three days?" Evie was shocked. "But you'll be in heaven."

"Just to be sure I'm actually dead," Spencer said. "Maybe I heard wrong. You think it could be p-a-r-i-s-h? Like a district in a town?"

Evie stared out at the flickering firelight, close but unapproachable. "For the record, you can eat me the same day." She looked up at him, trying to be brave. "Don't wait. I don't want you to starve to death while you're waiting to make sure I've already starved to death."

Spencer scratched between her ears. "And why build it underground?"

Spencer's stomach grumbled. Evie tilted her head toward Spencer's waist. "See? You're empty too."

"Wait—no one said it was built underground." Spencer sat up. "Just that it's underground now. Maybe it sank. Maybe it was originally called Macadamia, but after an earthquake buried it, the locals called it the perished parish. And when the beasts took over, dug into its underground ruins, it was shortened to simply, Perish. That's probably what happened."

"And what about those hungry, hunting, labyrinth-digging beasts?" Evie asked.

"It's a risk we have to take."

"Have to? We don't know if Perish Caverns was once Macadamia, or even leads to it."

"It's the best lead we have." Spencer curled up and patted the grass in front of him.

"It's the only lead we have," Evie said, her ears and tail drooping in unison. She sank into the corner made by Spencer's body, closed her eyes, and let sleep come.

At first light, two nomadic women, wrapped from head to toe in drape-like clothing, came for them with a brown horse. Evie growled.

"Quiet, dog," the older one commanded.

A disguise was part of the deal Spencer had made. They wrapped Spencer's head in a dusty cloth, much like they were wearing, so only his eyes were visible, then looped the rest loosely around his body. Once hidden inside the dusty wrap, Evie sneezed thirteen times in a row, a personal record for her. They set Spencer and Evie on the horse and led them to the caravan.

In the caravan, Spencer held the reins under the cloth, but he didn't need to—the horse just followed the hundreds more in front of it. No one spoke, but the silence was broken every five seconds by a whinny or a deep snort. Fresh horse manure, flattened and churned into the air, drew hundreds of black, buzzing flies.

The morning got hot fast and became a swelter before they started up a narrow mountain pass. Hunger pains came and went, but the rancid, dusty heat was a constant. Finally they turned into a forest and enjoyed the shady relief of tree cover.

Spencer's heart sped up a little when a fierce-eyed nomad warrior left the narrow line and rode into the forest. A short time later, those fierce eyes emerged from the trees and came directly at the fake nomads. The warrior pulled Spencer's horse from the caravan. "Follow that deer trail," the warrior said, pointing at a gap in the trees.

Spencer spun in his saddle, held on to Evie, and slid off. He hit the ground hard and dropped their bindle, spilling out the sling and torch.

The warrior scoffed behind the heavy wrap. "Is that all you got?"

"It's all we could afford," Spencer said.

"You'll meet your end in there," the nomad said coldly, as though commenting on the weather.

Spencer and Evie hiked through the forest for an hour when the trees began to thin. Beyond the last trees, Spencer could see a building, a tower of polished stone, standing proud. They slowed their walk and gazed up at the shining buildings built far apart, cutting brilliant angles above the horizon. The glistening green landscape was calm. Evie smelled the air, which was still and fragrant like spring, not like late summer.

"I never knew places of such splendor existed," Spencer said.

"What is this place?" Evie asked.

"It's Academia."

"There are no homes. No shops," Evie noted with suspicion.

"Listen," Spencer said. "No bugs. No birds. There's no one at all. Where is everybody?"

"I got something," Evie said, slamming her nose to the ground. She zipped back and forth until the scent was locked in.

Spencer followed her up a slight slope covered in a carpet of soft green grass. Whatever Evie was tracking, Spencer wondered if it was also tracking them. "What is it? What do you smell?"

"Death."

"Could you maybe dial back the drama?"

The musky scent eventually led them to a moss-covered boulder jutting out of a hillside.

Evie circled the area, looking quite relieved. "Huh. It just stops right here. I guess we have to go home now."

Spencer ignored her and inspected the boulder. Short green hairs sprouted from the moss. Despite the still air all around them, these hairs were twitching. Spencer laid his cheek against the moss; the faintest breeze slipped between the soil and the boulder, carrying the stink of rotted meat.

Spencer forced his fingers between the dirt and the boulder and pried loose a handful of earth. He tossed it aside and did it again—and again. He dug at it until his fingers found a weak seam and dislodged a clod about the size of his foot. He grinned and then grinned wider when he wrenched out another. He continued this way, building a pile of fresh dirt at his feet, until he had created a space to wedge his shoulder behind the boulder. He flexed and twisted and managed to move it the slightest bit, just enough to push his leg in, then attempted to bend his knee, but all he could muster was a quiver. He pushed again, this time with his shoulder. The boulder wanted to shift—wanted to reveal the cavern's opening—but it didn't move.

He gritted his teeth and pushed with everything he had once more, and this time the giant rock slid forward, releasing a great gassy plume of rot. The stench washed over Spencer and brought him to his knees, where he vomited a mouthful of sticky bile.

Evie sat in the grass and shook her head. "Could you maybe dial back your drama?"

"Touché." Spencer caught his breath. "This is definitelyit."