The Last Summoning---Andrew and the Quest of Orion's Belt (Book Four) (17 page)

He swallowed, feeling his dry throat burn,
and itch as if he’d swallowed a hive of bees. He took a brave step
forward, and looked up, gazing into The Drought’s eyes. “Fine,”
Andrew said. “If that is your wish. I will look into your eyes. But
spare my friends.”

The Drought’s crusty lips turned into a
cracked smile, his whole dry face splintering like a dry desert
floor. “Good. You have chosen wisely. Your friends I will let go
free. You have nothing to worry about. You will hardly feel a
thing. It will all be over very quickly. After you are gone, I will
dry up this ocean, and every other ocean on the earth! I will
become the greatest Drought that has ever been or ever will be.
This destruction that is coming upon the earth will not be stopped.
I am just one of the many plagues. Plagues that will herald in the
greatest plague of all---Darkness. And you will not be here to
witness it!” The Drought grabbed Andrew, and pulled him closer to
his eyes. “You have given me your word, now gaze deeply into my
eyes and do not look away, for if you do, I will not hesitate to
turn your friends into dust!”

Andrew squirmed against the sandy hand of The
Drought. Its touch seared his skin. But he did not look away. He
stared courageously into the glistening pools of The Drought’s
eyes. With each second his body felt emptier. His eyes burned as if
he was staring directly into the face of the sun. The skin around
his eyes shriveled. The skin on his body began to sag, he felt as
though he was turning into powder, and might at any moment blow
away with the wind.

Ivory screamed. He heard Freddie cry out. But
they sounded very far away and distant. Somewhere, Andrew could
hear Freddie sloshing through the water. Croffin’s voice was out
there somewhere moaning.

“You will not get in my way, boy,” The
Drought breathed, shaking Andrew with his crusty hands. Andrew
continued to stare, blinking back tears that dried up almost as
instantly as they hit his cheeks. He yearned to turn his head, to
close his eyes, to break The Drought’s molten stare.

“Your body contains more water than I
thought,” The Drought breathed, his face cracking into a disturbing
smile. His breath caused Andrew’s skin on his face to burn, peel,
and blister.

The life in him ebbed, his stomach felt
strange, his legs teetered beneath him, his hands shook. He felt
very dry and brittle like a cracker. He moaned, too weak to pull
away. He wanted to. But he could not. The Drought stared into
Andrew’s eyes like an all consuming raging inferno.

Andrew’s eyes watered, his face dripped with
sweat, his throat was so dry that even water would stick in it if
he drank it. He could feel himself drying up, like a fish out of
water, like a plant in the heat of the desert sun. The longer he
looked, the more he could not look.

“Stop!” Freddie’s voice called from behind.
“Please!”

The Drought ignored Freddie. “From dust he
came,” his terrible voice boomed. “to dust he will become!”

Andrew’s head teetered unsteadily on his
shoulders. His eyes felt as dry as two shriveled grapes. Somewhere
inside himself he felt a vague sense of the injustice of his
situation. Hadn’t he done as Drust had told him? Hadn’t he stepped
ahead, without any inclination of what he was to do? Where was the
answer? Was it to end all like this? Was it his fate to turn into a
pile of sand, and blow away with the wind? No, came the answer.

Andrew closed his parched mouth, staring
defiantly into the glassy eyes of The Drought. No. He told himself.
If The Drought knew that he, Andrew, could destroy it, then there
had do be something he could do---something, anything. But grasped
in The Drought’s powerful hands, trapped by its powerful stare, too
weakened to fight, it seemed like all he could was die---to dry up.
Then he remembered something someone had said to him. He had a
gift. He could see weaknesses for a reason. Perhaps this was the
reason. Using those last coherent thoughts as his guide, he willed
his mind to see this creature’s weakness just as he had seen the
Brittlewambers’ weakness. He could not let The Drought win. He had
to do something---anything. But it was no use. He could not look
away from The Drought’s eyes. The longer he stared into its eyes,
the more The Drought’s eyes began to burn and glow yellow, like two
hot suns magnifying heat and giving off steam. Then in an instant,
his own eyes burned green. He could see their green hue reflected
in The Drought’s own eyes. The answer was staring right at him, far
more apparent than he’d ever realized.

He knew The Drought’s weakness.

He set his jaw, still staring into The
Drought’s eyes. Then mustering up all the dry spit that was left in
his mouth, he spat into the creature’s eyes.

As Andrew’s spit hit The Drought eyes, the
creature let out an earth-shattering cry. The earth shook, the
ocean roared. Sand, wind, and heat surged around him. The Drought
cried out and let go of Andrew.

“No!”

The Drought stumbled back, clawing at his
eyes and crying out. He wailed, and bent over, staring into
Andrew’s eyes. A terrified gleam rippled through The Drought’s
watery eyes. A popping crack, like shattering glass, echoed through
the ground as The Drought’s eyes cracked and splintered, like a
stone thrown into a glass window. He roared and scratched at his
skin, over and over, causing layers and layers of dust, and skin,
to fall around him in a dirty cloud. He cried out once more, then
fell to his knees. The earth shook as he hit the ground. His
fractured eyes began to split, and great pools of water began to
flow down his cracked skin in rivers, pooling at his feet and then
flowing back into the ocean. His skin grew muddy and wet. His eyes
suddenly burst from his face in two shooting sprays of water,
causing his now muddy frame to explode in a splatter of mud and
water. He cried out once more as his body melted away into sand and
mud.

Andrew shielded his face from the blast of
muddy water, then, when all had calmed, he peered at the place
where The Drought had been, and saw crawling out of what was left
of the creature’s muddy shell, a very small, flat, withered fish,
flopping on the ground. It looked dead already, even though it was
gasping for air. It reeked of rot and death. The towering Drought
was no more. All that was left was a thirsty fish. Perhaps that was
all it had been in the first place. A fish out of water, yet never
satisfied. Disgusted, Andrew kicked it into the ocean. Instantly,
the ocean absorbed the body of the fish and the earth shook.

The sky changed color, and clouds began to
form above them. There was a rumble of thunder, and rain began to
poor down in torrents. Andrew opened his dry mouth and let the
water fall onto his lips and tongue. The water tasted sweet, pure,
wonderful! Such wonderful water he had never tasted in all his
life. As it fell on his skin, his dry, withered skin filled out.
His cracked lips healed, his burned skin burned no more. His dry
eyes were soothed, and all was washed and renewed.

“The Drought is broken!” Freddie cried,
hugging Andrew. “You did it. The Drought is dead!”

“No.” Andrew cried, bending down, and helping
Ivory and Talic to stand. “We did it!”

They lifted their heads and held out their
hands, embracing the rain. Drust had been right after all.

Andrew hadn’t known what to do until it had
been time.

It had been his job to act.

The rain came just as the answers came---only
when it was time, only when the earth was ready.

Soundwave

The night was quiet, almost somber, but filled with
hope for the future. It had been raining steadily ever since The
Drought had been broken, as if nature was trying to balance out all
the moisture that had been lost.

Though the night was quiet, Andrew heard
plenty---Sounds kept him awake. Many sounds combined into one,
throbbing against the chest of unsaid words, struggling, begging,
pounding for their release. Even when sleeping far away from the
chest of unsaid words, the sounds of the words seeped into his
head, invaded his mind, haunted his sleep, and caused him to wake
up in a panicked sweat.

Such a constant throb made him feel on edge
and anxious. Even with the breaking of The Drought, he felt little
peace. He wondered what this new action would bring, what new
disturbance had he set in motion from breaking The Drought? What
new foe awaited him in the darkness?

He peered over the chest of unsaid words into
the darkness, hearing the words inside it buzz as his hand neared
it. The light from the words shone through the cracks in the wood,
like beams of light grasping to get free. Ivory, Talic, and Freddie
lay next to the chest, sleeping soundly as if the were undisturbed
by the throbbing sounds. Couldn’t they hear the sounds? Why didn’t
the pounding chest wake them?

He turned away from the chest, and slowly
walked to the edge of the ocean. Its angry roar drowned out the
pleading throb of the chest, helped him to relax, to feel somewhat
peaceful.

The ocean smelled fresh and salty. Its waves
crashed against the shore, sending a spray of water into his face.
He shivered, feeling goosebumps appear on his arms.

The water had grown cold overnight; the air
felt almost freezing. The moon glimmered over the waves, casting
light through its restless surface as if enjoying the ride over its
tossing waves.

Andrew took off his shoes and dipped his toes
into the cool water. Since the death of The Drought, the air had
grown cold, and chilly. The world that had been clothed in
continual sun and heat, was now cold and wet, as if overeager to
welcome in the Autumn that The Drought had done his best to block
out. With the breaking of The Drought, a miraculous change was felt
throughout the world. Yet, food was still hard to come by, and much
of the damage The Drought had caused could not easily be
undone.

In the time that The Drought had been allowed
to reign, nearly all peoples had willingly given up their weapons
and were now surviving off the goodwill of The Fallen.

But not all of what The Drought had touched
had died. Where brown lingered, green grasses were slowly showing.
Where trees had died, strong roots still lingered---renewed life
began to pop up from the ground. All was not as lost as it had
first looked. After all, The Drought had brought his friends back.
Well, most of them.

He sighed and glanced back at Ivory and the
others. He was so glad to have his friends back. How he hoped he
could keep them safe. How he wished that they could be finished
with their struggles. But their journey was far from over. Ivory
had told Andrew of what had happened while they had been
parted---of Gogindy, how Talic had ended up not quite his normal
self. She had also told him of the Bell of Conroy, and a whole
number of things that caused him to worry and wonder. Andrew
wondered about the Bell of Conroy, and Gogindy’s ability to ring
it. He also wondered if the creature would be able to reach it, and
ring it in time. Ivory had said that Gogindy had one month to ring
the bell, before all was lost.

One month. How was he supposed to wake the
world in that time? He surmised that he would just have to do as
Drust had told him.

To act, to step. The answers were out there
for him to find, or for them to find him.

“What are you thinking about?” Ivory’s voice
murmured behind him.

Andrew turned, and smiled. “You’re supposed
to be sleeping.”

Ivory returned the smile, staring at him with
mysterious eyes. “I was, but…”

“Did the chest of words wake you?”

Ivory looked confused. “The chest? No…does it
make noise?”

Andrew nodded. “Yes. All the time. That’s why
I can’t sleep. I haven’t slept soundly since I got that chest. It’s
constantly throbbing, making it so I can’t sleep.”

“Really?” Ivory asked. “I didn’t hear
anything. I guess the words know that you hold the key to their
freedom, not me.”

“I suppose…but for being unsaid, they sure
make a lot of noise. I can’t wait until I can finally set them
free. Every day they sound more desperate, more haunting. It’ll be
good to be rid of them. Carrying that chest has been horrible. It
grows heavier every day.”

“It does?”

“Yes. It does.”

“How are we going to carry it?”

Andrew smirked, and turned away from Ivory,
staring at the ocean, feeling his thoughts roar and crash just as
the waves did. “The way we have been. Very slowly, painfully.”

“When are you going to open the chest?”

Andrew breathed out slowly, and offered her a
meager smile. “I don’t know. Soon, I hope.”

The cool ocean wind blew Ivory’s red hair
away from her face, making her look like a pure spirit sent from
the ocean itself. She had changed since Andrew had last seen her.
Her hair was longer, her eyes more serious, her face more
serene.

Ivory walked on past him through the sand.
She picked up a smooth rock and inspected it very carefully. “You
and that chest of unsaid words seem to have a lot in common. You
carry so much weight on your shoulders. Why not let us help carry
the load. You seem to keep so much locked up inside you. Perhaps
you’re adding to the weight of the chest, by not saying everything
that’s on your mind, by not opening up more.”

“What do you mean?” Andrew said, bending down
and picking up a flat stone, and chucking it at the water. The
stone skipped out over the water, then disappeared. “I open up to
you all the time.”

Ivory raised her brows, and shook her head.
“No. Andrew. You keep a lot of what you think inside here.” She
tapped his chest.

“You don’t have to carry everything alone.
Freddie told me how you refused to let him help carry that chest
until you were almost dead with exhaustion. Don’t you realize that
it’s not your job to do everything by yourself? That’s why you have
us. To help.”