The Dagger-Key and The Lost Treasures of Kebadon Page 2

  * * *

  The usual hazy morning mist that blanketed the Zacton Ocean coastline had begun to thin. While the remaining fishing boats were being made ready to head out, four of the crew aboard the Sealander hoisted the boarding ramp into its resting position.

  Kyhawn leaned against the safety rail and studied the docks. In between fisher-Zacs and Ooweds coming and going, he noted Earron and Coita preparing to leave on the fishing boat owned by Werdna and his brother Nevets. Earron looked up at Kyhawn. “She wasn’t there,” he shouted. Kyhawn stared at him oddly as if he couldn’t quite make out what he said. Earron called to him once more, adding, “We’ll go and see her on our return this evening.”

  Kyhawn nodded as if he understood. He waved as Earron returned the gesture. Coita called for Earron to give him a hand. And with a worried look Earron gave Kyhawn one last wave and returned to his duties.

  As Kyhawn continued to stare down at them, he knew Werdna and Nevets had the fastest boat on the entire coast. He also knew the lives of many might depend on the true meaning of his dreams. He wished while growing up he had visited Emaya more often and listened to her more. Instead he’d spent much of his youth ignoring both his dreams and her. She once told him to pay attention to his dreams as they were a special gift by which he could tell the future. But Kyhawn didn’t believe in himself enough. Now consumed by his dreams, he nonetheless had to prove himself worthy of his employment.

  Ready or not, he stood next to his new mentor on the main deck. “I’ve never been on a cruise ship.”

  “She’s a beauty.” Washburrn glanced around at the Sealander. “She’s mostly constructed of wood. You’ll like her. She’s an older model, but she’s the best in her class. Wealthy passengers mostly occupy both floors on the main deck, twenty rooms in all. Two of them have been reserved by the Zacs who own the chest. You and I, along with Korts and Turnar, will be its caretakers for the next few days.”

  Kyhawn nodded as he noticed the different-colored wealthy Zacs walking about. He had never seen so many Zacs of different cultures in one place before, not even at the trade school.

  A moment later a tall, heavyset silverish-blue female in her forties approached. “Good morning, Washburrn,” she said as she tied her long black hair in a ponytail and looked at them with her large black eyes. Her voice was charming. “Is this your new assistant Kyhawn I’ve been hearing about?”

  “He is,” Washburrn answered with a look of uncertainty. “Kyhawn, I want you to meet a good friend of mine, Alil.”

  “Why, good morning, Kyhawn. It’s a pleasure.” Alil smiled, giving him a firm handshake, wrist to wrist. “I’m second in charge of security under Washburrn. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” She hurried off along the narrow exterior walkway.

  While the Sealander pulled out to open sea, Washburrn and Kyhawn stood in front of Room 10. Washburrn inserted a key. “She’s a good Zac to have around—smart, and as hardy as a horse.” He swung the door open. “Here we are. Your luggage goes over there.”

  Kyhawn’s eyes lit up at the opulent furnishings. “This is just as I imagined it. It’s beautiful.”

  “Well, the wealthy do have their standards.”

  “But if all four of us are staying in this room, why are there only two beds, one bath, a small closet, and a table for two?” Kyhawn opened the closet door. “Look, it’s already full. Didn’t you say there were two rooms reserved for us?” He laid his cabac next to his luggage at the foot of his bed.

  “You don’t waste any time,” Washburrn remarked. “Kid, you might make a terrific detective some day, if you’re the type who’s eager to unravel a difficult mystery. I’ve been told you were.” Washburrn paused as though looking for something around his bed. “We leave our stuff here as we’ll be switching rooms with Korts and Turnar every six hours. The wooden chest is in Room 4, three doors down from here, close to the bridge, but it won’t do any good to go there now.”

  “Why’s that? I mean …”

  Washburrn spoke quickly. “We’re not allowed to answer the door for any reason during our shifts. It’s a security precaution.”

  Moments later they were back outside and leaning again against the safety rail. Kyhawn stared at the docks, which seemed to be getting smaller, and then at the Zacton Ocean, which appeared to be growing larger. When he turned to his new mentor, a strange chill of insecurity rushed through his body. Should I trust him? Is he the faceless Zac in my dreams, or is he a fallen angel?

  Washburrn turned to him. “You look a bit pale,” he said, as though continuing to have doubts about his new apprentice.

  “I’m fine.”

  Washburrn hesitated. “Good enough. We have two hours before our first shift. What do you say I show you around? We’ll get a bite to eat afterward.”

  “Sounds fine with me.” As they neared the stern, Kyhawn studied the two exhaust-steam shafts. He could hear the water-powered motors hard at work directly beneath them. The steam shafts stood side by side, high above them, just behind the number two mast.

  A few feet from them, passengers were busy getting to know one another. Kyhawn glanced down at a pink pet caterpillar. His gaze followed the caterpillar’s leash up to its owner’s hand. An Oowed stood next to her waiting to assist her. Kyhawn stared at the lady in the fancy dress who was giving everyone a friendly smile. He leaned close to Washburrn. “She’s yellow?”

  Washburrn nudged him. “It’s not good manners to stare.” However, he cracked a thin smile as they went past her to continue their tour toward the ship’s bow. “Before this cruise is over, you’ll be used to seeing Zacs from all over the world.”

  As Kyhawn glanced at the sleeping rooms to their left, Washburrn ran his hand over the safety rail to their right. “There’s nothing as relaxing as the ocean moving beneath you. I suspect that’s why I like this job so well.”

  After Washburrn finished giving Kyhawn a tour of the sundeck on top of the sleeping rooms, they visited the bridge, which was on the second floor, positioned in front of the number one mast. When they entered, Captain Joenf was at the helm. His silverish-blue sunburned skin, long wavy silver hair, and thick wiry beard gave him a hardy seafaring look.

  “Welcome aboard!” Captain Joenf tilted his cap exposing the baldness on top of his head. He gave Kyhawn a quick look-over. He issued some commands to a crew-Zac before turning back to Washburrn. “See you on deck later?”

  Washburrn nodded, then he and Kyhawn left the bridge, descending the steps and heading for the dining area under the main deck where a set of large double doors awaited them. “Kid, if we’re going to eat, we had better do it now.” Washburrn reached for the double doors as they passed by two apparently new crew-Zacs. After they acknowledged one another, Washburrn took Kyhawn off to one side of the double doors. He made sure no one was in hearing distance then apologized for being two days late, telling Kyhawn that because of food poisoning, they had to hire on ten new crew-Zacs.

  “I wasn’t aware the ship was late.” Kyhawn’s large brown eyes opened wide. “But poisoned food?”

  Washburrn scratched his whiskers. “Well, kid, don’t let it bother you—this has never happened aboard the Sealander before. And you can be sure it’s not going to happen again.” He paused, not wanting to frighten Kyhawn, he said, “Perhaps the livestock came aboard already sick. And under the circumstances, when we stopped in Chamquinil, we had the suspect food destroyed, including the livestock, which we keep down below.”

  “You killed the livestock?”

  “We couldn’t take any chances, not with the tiallup these Zacs are paying for the cruise. Captain Joenf couldn’t afford to do any less.”

  Washburrn gave Kyhawn a rigid stare as they entered the double doors just beneath the bridge, which led through a lobby to the dining area staircase. “We also took on fifteen of King Lumarkahawn’s soldiers when we brought the chest aboard. But you won’t be able to recognize them because they’re wearing crew-
Zac uniforms,” Washburrn said as he stopped Kyhawn and looked into his eyes. “Not a word of this to anyone, or about that other incident either. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir. Not a word.” Kyhawn nodded as they stood before the stone staircase. It was more impressive than he’d imagined. When his hand touched the dark wooden banister, he couldn’t help but notice the walls decorated with beautiful paintings. He was in awe even before he glanced up and noticed the glass chandeliers hanging playfully from exposed ceiling beams. At the bottom of the staircase, he stepped onto a dark red ceramic tile floor.

  “It’s nice to see we missed the crowd,” Washburrn said as they headed toward an empty table.

  “Crowd, yes, sure,” Kyhawn answered. He noted that all of the tables were bolted down.

  Shortly after they sat down, a short, slim, pale yellow Zac with an unfriendly smile approached them. “What will you two be drinking?”

  Washburrn sized him up. “You’re new here?”

  “Yes, I’m the new head server. The eating utensils are located at the far end of the meal bar. The steam rocks that keep the food warm are plenty hot too, I should know, but we serve the drinks only.” His words were clumsy, and his manner was impatient.

  Washburrn looked displeased. “I know how things work around here, thank you.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

  “Well, it’s quite all right.” Washburrn rested his elbows on the table. “I’ll take a coffee, and the kid here will have…?”

  Hand-over-chin again in thought, Kyhawn answered, “Milk—yes, some milk please.”

  “Milk …? Terrific!” Washburrn glanced at Kyhawn. “Add a glass of milk to my order. I haven’t drunk milk in quite along time.”

  The server turned, almost knocking over the chair. “I’ll be back with your beverages soon.”

  Washburrn looked puzzled. He leaned toward Kyhawn. “You know, I’ve seen that Zac somewhere before. I felt uneasy when I first laid eyes on him. I’ve dealt with him somewhere in the past.” He laid his hands on the table, tapping his fingers. “Go ahead and get yourself something to eat. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  When Kyhawn returned from the meal bar, Washburrn was nowhere in sight.

  About twenty minutes later, Kyhawn was finishing the last of his seaweed-and-egg dish when Washburrn finally returned. “I had to speak with Captain Joenf,” was all he said. He then headed for the meal bar himself.

  He looks bothered, thought Kyhawn.

  Washburrn returned in a few minutes with his own meal, wrapped in parchment to go. He suggested to Kyhawn to grab a drink and a sandwich for a snack later. The younger Zac did so, and followed his much other mentor to Room 4, which was around the corner from the double doors. Kyhawn noted the location was near the front portside on the main deck.

  Washburrn looked around and above him at the second floor walkway. When he seen no one was close enough to hear, he showed his apprentice the code knock. “Don’t forget it. And by all means, the only ones who should know this code besides you and me are Korts, Turnar, and Alil.”

  Somewhat tense, Kyhawn answered, “Yes, sir.”

  A moment later, the door opened. “Hey, good to see ya.” Korts glanced at the food, then at Kyhawn. “You’re lucky—we didn’t get a chance to eat much before we came on.”

  “Kyhawn, I’d like you to meet Korts and Turnar,” Washburrn said.

  Korts smiled. He was young and about four foot tall, stocky, with purple skin. He patted Kyhawn’s shoulder. “Welcome aboard,” he said, placing his hat over his black wavy hair.

  Seeing that Kyhawn’s hands were full, Turnar, also young and four foot tall, but skinny with the same purple compaction and black hair. With a goofy but pleasant way about him, he gave Kyhawn a pat on the shoulder with a friendly smile. “Hope he’s not steering you wrong,” he chuckled. “We’ll talk more latter. I hear my stomach rumbling.” He waved good-bye as he continued to have a conversation with his good friend Korts.

  Washburrn closed and locked the door. “They’re good guys. They’ve been with the captain about as long as I’ve been here.” He set his coffee container, cups, and reading glasses on a small wooden table against the wall. “Make yourself at home, kid.”

  Kyhawn looked around, noting the room appeared identical to the other, with the same bright tan-colored walls and ceiling. The beds were to their left with the table to their right, while oil lamps and candles were placed throughout. A book was lying on one chair. Before he had a chance to seat himself in the other, Washburrn opened the closet doors. “I want to show you something.”

  Kyhawn looked curious as he put his sandwich and glass of milk on the table. He glanced at the bathroom doorway on the back wall then approached the closet to his right. His eyes widened with delight admiring the wooden chest as he knelt by it. “Where’s the lock? How do you open it? Wait a minute … I see.” He ran his hands over the unusual lock system: one on each top front corner. “This is amazing.”

  “I was told she’s water-sealed.” Washburrn crouched and patted the dome-shaped lid. “I was also told you can’t bust or burn the wood from which she’s constructed.”

  “The old books and documents she has inside sure must be valuable. I mean, with four of us keeping an eye on it, plus fifteen of the king’s soldiers aboard.”

  “I’m told they are. By the way, we picked her up in Chamquinil, from that trade school you attended.”

  Kyhawn looked up at Washburrn. “I sure wouldn’t mind reading them. If these are the ones I’m thinking of, then the original books about ancient Zacterron civilization are in here.”

  “Ancient Zacterron civilization?” Washburrn questioned as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “I’ve read much about the subject myself,” he said as he studied Kyhawn’s slender features. He didn’t think the lad appeared tough enough, and, worst of all, he was fresh out of school. “History is indeed an important subject. Nevertheless, I’d rather know more about you.”

  He took a sip of coffee. “Tell me, kid, what made you decide to become a detective?”

  Kyhawn ran his long silverish-blue fingers over the dome-shaped lid on the chest. He slowly rose then went to the small window next to the door. “I just wanted to do something with my life that might possibly better Zacterronian-kind. Something adventurous.” He smiled.

  Washburrn seemed to approve of his answer as he looked at Kyhawn while taking a seat at the table. “Well...what’s this?" He reared up to remove his book from beneath him.

  Kyhawn smiled again and continued. “I want to experience life to its fullest. I mean go places, do things my friends back home will never have a chance to. I don’t mean any disrespect to fisher-Zacs or anything like that, and I do like to fish, but making a living at it is not for me.”

  “You sure picked a high risk career.” Washburrn took a sip of coffee. “Speaking of which, I’d rather you not look out that window—it might draw attention.”

  Kyhawn moved away from it and stood with a well-mannered pose. “What happens aboard ship anyway? I mean, what do all these fancy Zacs do for entertainment?”

  Washburrn answered in his usual calm and collected way, one leg crossed over the other. “We have plays, also a band. Come to think, there’s a new play this evening I wouldn’t mind seeing. It starts at six o’clock.” He glanced at his timepiece. “Do you fancy that sort of entertainment?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Well, that’s settled then.” Washburrn paused. “We also have dances. There’s one tomorrow night. But we’ll be here babysitting the chest. At least you’ll get to enjoy the play this evening, along with music, games, and plenty of good food throughout the voyage.” Washburrn leaned close. “Hey, why such a long face?”

  Kyhawn’s body tingled. This was indeed a part of his dreams, where everybody dressed up in costumes. “Dances?”

  “Yes, a costume dance, where everyone dresses up. Is there a problem?”

  “No,” Kyhawn said after a paus
e. “I was thinking about … my dreams. Anyway, do you believe in dreams?” Kyhawn asked.

  “I know we have them, but no, I don't pay any attention to such things. Why do you ask?”

  “Nothing. I mean, I was just thinking about this dream that’s been haunting me for weeks,” he answered, compelled to tell him about them. Washburrn, not particularly interested in such things, noted the look in Kyhawn’s eyes and willingly listened to what he had to say.

  Washburrn and Kyhawn learned much about each other during their first shift together. Quite content in their conversations, they found it easy to talk with one another. but for the last two hours of their shift Washburrn was lost in his book, dosing off from time to time, while Kyhawn had taken one of his parchment pads from his cabac and found himself going over all of his dream notes and drawings.

  Time slipped away, and before long they heard the coded knock. Washburrn unlocked the door to allow Korts and Turnar to enter. After a few friendly words, Kyhawn and Washburrn departed and once again the door was locked. Kyhawn and Washburrn paused by the safety rail to take in some ocean air. Keeping one hand on the railing, Kyhawn stretched out so he could better see the walkway above them. He felt more secure seeing that the safety rail wrapped completely around the Sealander’s main deck, the second floor walkway, and the sundeck above the second floor.

  As they walked toward the ship’s stern, for the moment they bypassed their sleeping room. Around the corner, the second floor exterior wooden deck wrapped around the number two mast. Kyhawn and Washburrn stood near the steps that led to the upper deck. As Kyhawn savored the moment watching Zacs from many different cultures enjoying themselves, he realized the environment was making him feel wealthy, something he’d never before experienced. But at the same time, he felt the presence of evil. Who took a shot at us while we were in that carriage? And why?

  As they approached the stern, which stretched sixty-foot from the portside to the starboard side, a chilly breeze came in from the west. Washburrn tucked his hands into his cloak pockets. “At night the band plays here on the main deck. Other times they’re toward the front of the Sealander, near the bow.” He noticed the anxious look on Kyhawn’s face. “I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you. Take my advice and enjoy yourself.”

  “It is … different out here with no land in sight.” Kyhawn steadied himself as they approached the railing and gazed at the Zacton Ocean. “Getting use to the swaying motion might take some practice.”

  “I forgot you haven’t been out to sea this far before.” Washburrn chuckled. “I take the waves for granted. You’ll get used to it in time.”

  Two other passengers were also out strolling. “Good afternoon.” Washburrn greeted them, giving them a thin smile and bowing slightly.

  As they passed by, the couple acknowledged them with a nod and friendly smile.

  “Who are they, sir?” Kyhawn asked, one hand in his coat pocket, while his other hand seemed to be waiting for something to hold on to; just in case he lost his balance.

  “I haven’t the slightest clue. I like to say hello to the passengers often. It’s a pleasurable habit. After all, they do pay our wages. Even if some of them think they’re too good to acknowledge us. I enjoy my job, and it’s become a pleasurable habit.” He paused. “You ready for something more to eat?”

  “Sure,” Kyhawn said, as he noticed a black caterpillar on a leash, being escorted by a green lady wearing a long red shawl over her black dress. “But let me just say hello to this little guy.”

  The lady stopped to chat with a green handsome male Zac only a few feet away from them. As Kyhawn went over to the black caterpillar to play with it, he thought about Lilly and his mother. At the same time he couldn’t help but notice a tall slim dark-blue crew-Zac with long red hair staring at them. His stare was somewhat frightening, Kyhawn thought.

  Suddenly the lady jerked on the leash as if she didn’t want Kyhawn touching her pet. Kyhawn got up and followed Washburrn who was hurrying toward dinner. He leaned close to him and whispered, “I see what you mean, sir, about some of them being snobbish.”

  Washburrn nodded as they walked along the ship’s railing with the ocean to their right. “Kid, do me a favor and stop calling me ‘sir.’ I’d like it if you’d call me Washburrn.”

  Kyhawn paused, his head dipping down. He slowly looked at him. “Sir, I mean Washburrn,” he said, feeling slightly insecure. “Since we’re on the subject, I’d appreciate it if you’d refer to me as Kyhawn. A kid is someone still growing up, and I’m quite sure I’ll not be getting any larger. Anyway, that’s what my friends call me.”

  Washburrn bowed. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean you any disrespect, Kyhawn, son of Joehawn.” He looked at Kyhawn with compassion. “From what I’ve been told, he was a decent Zac, your father. You’ve obviously inherited his good manners and kind nature.”

  Washburrn opened the double doors leading to the dining room. As they did, they let an elderly couple and one of the ship’s nurses go ahead of them.

  “Thank you.” The nurse gave Kyhawn a curious smile.

  Washburrn cupped his hand over his mouth and cleared his throat, then leaned closer to Kyhawn. “She’s about your age.”

  “I guess.” Kyhawn shrugged, giving her a shy glance.

  As they descended the fancy staircase, Washburrn noted they only had twenty-five minutes until the show began. With only a few dinner tables open, they hurried to fill their plates and take a seat. As Kyhawn ate his fish and seaweed pie, Washburrn introduced him to two crew-Zacs that had been aboard ship much longer than he. Willow and Zeal. They were both tall and handsome in their mid 30’s. “May we join you guys?” Willow asked. His green skin complimented his dark blue cloak as he set his plate of food on the round wooden table.

  “Sure…” Washburrn replied. And for the remainder of their meal Kyhawn listened to them talk about a small ranch they owned outside of Omakohak. “We have cows and chicken for the most part.” Willow explained.

  “A few horses too,” Zeal added, taking a bite of fried occton. “Shanel and Tobben comes out the visit once in a while.”

  “When we return, you guys need to come out for a visit. We’ll have a big cookout,” Willow announced.

  “We’ll invite the rest of the crew too,” Zeal smiled.

  “Sure… sound great,” Kyhawn returned the gesture as he looked at his mentor who was nodding in agreement with his mouth full.

  “Show starts in five minutes,” said a crew-Zac, standing across the room from them near the entertainment room.

  “We got night-watch duty on the deck,” Willow, kind and soft spoken, dragged his bread over his plate. “Enjoy the play,” he motioned with bread in hand. Zeal nodded with a friendly smile as they ascended the fancy stairs.

  Washburrn scooped up the last of his boiled baby sea slugs and occton tentacles. “We

  don’t want to miss the opening.”

  Kyhawn gulped down his milk and wiped his lips. “The pie was good, but those occton tentacles were delicious.”

  “I thought you’d like them. Occton tentacles have always been my favorite sea food,” he said as they rose from the table and went to the archway leading into the entertainment room.

  Washburrn turned toward the staircase. Across from it, they heard the sounds of musical instruments on the other side of a beautiful octagon archway.

  As soon as they went through and were seated, the room darkened. The music began, while yellow exotic female dancers from the island of Minu moved to the rhythm. One at a time, the small stage torches ignited. A few minutes later the same server who had served them that morning approached, curiously staring at Washburrn. "Are you two going to have something to drink?" When he didn't get any response he tapped Kyhawn on the shoulder. "Sir, may I bring you two something to drink? A refreshing malgy drink, or a salmow sour, you choose.”

  “I'll have one of those salmow sours please,” he answered tapping Washburrn on the shoulder. “Did you want something
to drink?”

  “No thanks,” he answered as he glanced at the server, noticing his impatient manner. Not a good trait in a server, he thought.

  The server impatiently waited. “Will that be all then?”

  Kyhawn answered, “Yes, thank you.”

  As the waiter walked away Washburrn took another look at him. “That zac, he was the same one who served us this morning.”

  Kyhawn nodded. “He was.”

  “That face, I know it from somewhere, but where?” Washburrn, pretending not to let it bother him, tapping his fingers on the table. He turned toward to the stage.

  Kyhawn glanced back and forth between Washburrn and the ladies on stage. Something to do with that zac is bothering him. Considering he was once a detective, he must know a lot of zacs. If it were a pleasant encounter he wouldn't let it bother him.

  Time slipped away as one exotic dance blended into another and then another. Before long, the torches were being put out by the male dancers who danced around the stage with their long colorful cloaks dragging across the wooden floor.

  Kyhawn and Washburrn’s next few shifts slipped away as well. And even though there was no physical resemblance between the slim youth and the tall, slightly overweight middle age Zac, Kyhawn in some ways saw Washburrn as the father he’d never known. In turn, Washburrn found himself treating Kyhawn as the son he’d never had. And when they weren’t sleeping they passed much of their time with a few shuffleboard games while inhaling the smells of food and drink from many cultures.

  Room 10 was their destination for the next few hours, for some well needed sleep. Alil let them know she’d be around to wake them for their next shift. Washburrn walked her to the door. “We'll see you then Alil. Now if you don’t mind, we’re tired.” He locked the door and returned to his bed. “She’s a good friend, she’s someone you can count on.”

  Kyhawn plopped down on his bed with a yawn. “I'd hate to tangle with her. I bet underneath those good looks she could knock a guy right on his rear.”

  Washburrn chuckled. “She’s been known too,” he said, looking over at Kyhawn fully clothed with his eyes closed. He smiled, got undressed and neatly laid his clothes to one side. After picking up his reading glasses and book off the table, he got into his bed and snuggled under the blankets.

  Before they knew it Alil was knocking at the door. Washburrn woke first, and answered the door to let her know they were awake. “Kyhawn,” Washburrn cleared his throat. "Kyhawn, you ready to grab a bite to eat and head over there?”

  His young apprentice sat up on the edge of the bed, running his fingers over the top of his head. “Yes sir. I mean Washburrn. Just as soon as I visit the bathroom.”

  After Washburrn and Kyhawn had grabbed a bite to eat they exited the dining room’s double doors on to the main deck where a few band members were playing for some of the passengers. On passing them they turned the corner of the large two-story structure to room #2, then #4.

  “Go ahead, young zac,” Washburrn whispered, “see if you remember the code knock.”

  Shortly after the door opened Korts and Turnar went to go get their well-needed rest for the night.

  Washburrn locked the door behind them as Kyhawn placed his late night snack on the table, opened the closet door, and knelt before the wooden chest. He wondered if Washburrn would prevent him from trying to open the chest, but apparently Washburrn didn’t see any harm in it. He seemed more interested in finishing reading another book he had started, or perhaps he too wanted to read the old books and documents the chest was supposed to contain. Nonetheless he glanced at Kyhawn as if he didn’t care, thinking, I doubt he’s able to open it. It’ll keep that intriguing mind of his busy too, giving me a chance to read.

  While Washburrn slipped on his glasses and read, Kyhawn took from his cabac a lead stick along with his parchment pad. Then as he pushed pegs in and out and over again and again, he noted on the parchment each combination he’d tried. Finally a dry click rewarded his efforts. “I’ve done it!” he announced excitedly, as he jiggled the top right corner of the chest. “I’ve unlocked one side.” He pressed his hand to his chin as though in thought. “At least I think I did.” He gave it one last jiggle. “It seems loose.”

  Washburrn lowered his reading glasses. “Well, okay,” he said with a nod, somewhat impressed. “Some call it a puzzle-lock system for obvious reasons.” He glanced back at his book. “Let me know when you have the other side open.”

  Kyhawn suddenly remembered something. He turned his parchment pad to a page where he’d drawn a picture of a large fancy box. Was this chest the large fancy box in my dreams? Gray birds on chains, falling from the sky …? He began to feel that Washburrn was indeed the Zac that Nossgon had told him about. Washburrn must have been the faceless Zac in my dreams. Is he the guardian of the lantern I held while we stood next to each other floating above water? There were many others as we went through the window. That’s it … the window, but ships don’t sail through windows. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. With a deep breath, he laid his arms and head on the chest. “Who did you say owned this chest?”

  Washburrn didn’t take his eyes from the page. “A colleague, but with all due respect, I’d rather you not know anything you don’t need to.” Washburrn lowered his glasses and looked at Kyhawn. “It’s for your own well-being,” he said. “I’m not a detective anymore. Remember, I retired.” He pushed his glasses to his nose and looked back at his book. “We take the chest to the island of Adrolf and leave it at that.”

  With an enthusiastic look Kyhawn continued his quest to open the chest. While manipulating the pegs he thought to himself, this is like walking through a maze, but probably much difficult than the real maze I made it through at trade school. That maze was elementary compared to the difficulties this peg-lock system appears to possess.

  Washburrn watched him thinking, I don't know why he thinks he can open it. I couldn’t. He’s writing everything down on paper. Dang, I wonder if he carries that cogging parchment and led-stick with him everywhere he goes. He does seem to have an intriguing mind, even if he does seem a bit unsure of himself. He rather reminds me of myself when I was his age.

  Kyhawn soon found out the left side didn’t unlock anything like the right side. The time slipped away. When out of the silence of the moment he calmly whispered with enthusiasm, “I've done it—I've unlocked it!”

  Unsuccessful in opening it, his expression changed to one of disenchantment as he flopped back on the floor with his hands behind his head, he closed his eyes in thought.

  Washburrn glance at him, “If we’re going to read a page or two from those old books you better open her soon.”

  Kyhawn took a deep breath and glanced at the window. “I just had the strangest feeling of a cold chill passing right through me.”

  Washburrn lowered his reading glasses, “Perhaps you should stand up and move around some, do you some good. A young Zac needs to keep busy, you know, at least that’s what my father always told me.”

  Kyhawn did as he suggested, but deep down he felt the cold chill was caused from more then just sitting for too long. It had something to do with his dream, but what? He thought while sitting back in his chair, grabbed his half eaten sandwich, and sat on the floor next to the chest and his notes.

  The minutes passed, and before long the normally calm and passive Kyhawn jumped to his feet. “There’s got to be something about all of this which links the gray birds and the window standing in the water, but what?” He slammed his parchments on the chest.

  “Hold on there. What are you talking about?” Washburrn asked, leaning forward with his reading glasses resting on the tip of his nose.

  “I must have dosed off. I was dreaming.” He proceeded to show his mentor his dream notes, telling him what he thought they meant. Though Washburrn had heard this the day before, he politely listened, thinking Kyhawn needed to get it off his mind.

  Kyhawn, soon realizing he had told him about his notes, ap
ologized. “Sorry, I’m boring you,” he returned to the chest with his notes, and began to flipping through the pages, looking for an empty sheet to continue his notes. Before achieving his goal he came upon another drawing of a ship sailing through a window. It was identical to the one he had torn to pieces before he left home. What did it all mean? He rested his hand on the page, considering whether to also rip it up. Instead he reached for his lead stick and drew a castle over the drawing, but then hastily grabbed his dagger and scratched it out.

  “Is there a problem?” Washburrn put a finger on the page he was reading.

  Kyhawn laid his dagger on top the drawing. “No,” he said as he reached for his lead stick and outlined the dagger over the drawing. A slice of his dream flashed before his mind’s eye. “A dagger and a castle,” he mumbled as he slipped his dagger back into its sheath.

  “What was that?” Washburrn asked.

  Kyhawn hesitated as though in a trance. “I was only thinking about my dreams again. It’s nothing,” he said as he reached for the chest. He glanced at Washburrn who was staring at him oddly.

  “If we’re going to read those documents, you better get started.” Washburrn reminded him.