Quest for Knowledge (Volume 1 of the FirstWorld Saga) by Christopher Jackson-Ash (chromebook ebook reader txt) 📖

my release for this pretty red boy.” He turned to his cronies. “Kill the boy! Bring the girl to me, unharmed. You may have your fun with her later.”

“Not so fast, Dring!” The voice was loud and powerful. It seemed too big for the frail white-haired man from which it emanated. “Your master will not reward you tonight, but I will secure your release.”

Manfred seemed to grow in stature. He stood tall and proud, brandishing a multi-hued staff emblazoned with strange runes. A bolt of blue lightning appeared from the end of Manfred’s staff and lanced towards Dring, surrounding him in its fury, lifting him off his feet, and depositing him in a heap of cinders on the sandy floor of the dungeon.

“Be gone the rest of you, lest you also taste Manfred’s wrath.” The cronies disappeared into the crowd. Manfred sighed and appeared old and frail again. “I don’t like to kill, but he was already dead and his destruction today may have saved him from eternal damnation.”

“He was undead, then?” Jhamed asked. “It’s lucky you were here or we might not have left here today or ever.”

“Perhaps, although there is great power in that one.” He pointed to Simon. “Although he knows not how to use it yet. Did you see the force with which he repelled the undead one?”

Simon led the girl over to where Manfred and Jhamed were standing. The crowd parted to let them through. He felt strange. His face was still numb from Dring’s deadly cold touch and the cold seemed to be seeping into his brain, numbing his thoughts, slowing him down. My brain is being eaten. I am going to die.

Manfred seemed less concerned. He took Simon’s head in both hands and looked deep into his eyes. Simon was mesmerised by the green pools. He seemed to be drawn inside Manfred’s mind, where he found himself on St Kilda Beach on a hot summer’s day. He was lying on the sand, face down so that he could observe the scantily clad young women without his excitement becoming obvious. The hot sun burned into the back of his head, forcing out the cold thoughts and thawing his frozen face. He came back to reality to hear Manfred’s voice telling him, “Lucky for you that I was here, otherwise your brain temperature would have fallen until all thought activity stopped. Then you would have been ready for reprogramming. With the right programming, you could have become an undead one like Dring.” Simon shuddered at the prospect, suddenly feeling very cold again.

Meanwhile Jhamed was fussing over the girl, making sure she was all right. When Simon had recovered enough to feel jealous, he forcefully introduced himself to the one whom he now believed was his intended soul mate. She is so beautiful. I love her. “Hi, I’m Si Si Simon.” It was all he could manage. I don’t know whether it’s the after effects of the freezing or because I’m so nervous. I’m such an idiot. Why can’t I be cool with girls? The blood once again rushed to Simon’s face.

The beautiful young woman smiled at him. Her teeth, like everything else about her, were perfect. “Thank you all for saving me. Especially you, Si Si Simon.” She blushed a little as their eyes met. “My name is Juliana. I am... I was... I used to work at the court of Queen Freda. I used to prepare her clothing and help her dress.”

“What crime did you commit to warrant this cesspit?” Jhamed asked the question they were all thinking.

“I was bold enough to suggest that she take Prince Christopher with her to a royal function. She went crazy. She screamed at me, accusing me of favouring Prince Christopher over Prince Paul. She called the guards and sent me here.”

“Things may be worse here than I thought.” Manfred sighed. His bent frame seemed to sag as if a great weight had been placed on his shoulders. “I shall endeavour to give it my priority. But there is a greater need that we must deal with first. We must leave here quickly. Jhamed, did you secure a route for us?”

Simon, who had been observing the exchange of information with incredulity, was roused from his stupor and jumped into the conversation before Jhamed could answer. “We will take Juliana with us, won’t we?”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Manfred said. “She does not have the power to use the dimension portal. If everyone had such power then this dungeon would be empty. There are many places in the multiverse worse than this place, but also many that are exceedingly better.”

Simon shivered. “The multiverse must be a terrible thing if there are places worse than this.”

Manfred continued. “However, we will provide Juliana with some protection until we can return and make more permanent amends here.” He smiled at her. “Come here child, don’t be afraid. Jhamed, do you have a knife?”

Jhamed produced a vicious looking knife from inside his left boot and Manfred took it gingerly from him and with great care used it to cut off a lock of his long grey hair. Gently, he removed the locket from Juliana’s neck, opened it, and placed the hair inside. He mumbled something in a strange language before replacing the locket around her neck. “No one will trouble you while you wear this. Keep it around your neck at all times. Jhamed will leave you some supplies; keep them close to you, and be of good cheer for we shall return soon.”

Simon was about to say something about the wisdom of leaving a defenceless girl in such a place, especially one he found as beautiful as Juliana, but Manfred’s glare stopped the words in his throat. Instead, he turned his gaze to Juliana and their eyes locked for an instant. It seemed to Simon that time stood still. No words were spoken, but there was more communication in that instant than he had ever had with another before in his life. As Jhamed manhandled him away, he reluctantly broke their eye contact. She is my soul mate. I love her. My heart aches for her. I would die for her.

The thoughts stayed with him as a smell of pine needles replaced the rank odour of the dungeon and Simon, Manfred and Jhamed found themselves in the middle of a pine forest. Yet beneath those thoughts, there was another one. Simon realised it had been there all the time he had been in the dungeon but there had been so much going on it had eluded his consciousness. Now it nagged at him. I am here. Come for me.

Simon was overwhelmed with a series of different emotions – relief to be out of the dungeon, sadness bordering on grief, to have left Juliana behind, and total confusion as to what was happening to him. Am I crazy? Not for the first or last time today, he asked himself that question.

His sense of confusion and disorientation only became worse as he was bundled along between Manfred and Jhamed. No sooner were they in the clean air and dappled light of the pine forest than they were in the middle of a hustling city night with thick vehicle fumes that made him retch. Next, they were stumbling through a frozen, snow-covered land where an icy wind chilled him to the bone. Then that too was gone, replaced by a wasteland of ash and dry heat that made his skin crawl. Just as the heat was becoming unbearable, they stumbled into a cool clearing in another forest. This time, old oak trees with new green leaves provided shade from a weak springtime sun. Birds were singing and nearby the sound of flowing water seemed to soothe Simon’s tortured soul. He fell to the ground and lay there, mentally and physically exhausted.

“Welcome to FirstWorld,” said Jhamed, proud of his navigating skills.

“Welcome, indeed,” said Manfred. “Now the work really begins!”

A Word with the Wise

The next few days were a blur to Simon. He remembered that they camped the first night in the clearing. Jhamed had made a fire and had caught and roasted some rabbits. That was the best meal I have ever eaten. I was so hungry. Next day they had walked and walked until Simon felt that he could walk no more. They had passed through wooded countryside and saw no one until late in the day when they came across a few tilled fields and isolated farm dwellings.

The people welcomed Manfred like a prodigal son and that night they slept in a warm barn on fresh straw and feasted with the farmer and his family. Simon had never known that simple food could taste so good. They ate whole roasted suckling pig, with the crunchiest, most mouth-watering crackling Simon had ever tasted. It was so much better than the simulated meat he ate at home. The sweet potatoes and parsnips were roasted to perfection, caramelised, but not burnt. Dessert was just stewed apples and cream, but nothing had prepared Simon for the ultimate creaminess his over-indulged taste buds experienced.

As he felt the soft balm of sleep begin to embrace him, Simon thought back over the last few incredible days. He still couldn’t bring himself to believe his situation; he still thought he would wake up in his tiny flat and continue with his equally tiny life. What’s happening in my world? Will I ever see it again? Has World War III started? As he drifted towards sleep, he thought about Juliana and how much she reminded him of his classmate Julia. The thoughts had an immediate physical effect and he contemplated relieving the tension in his body, but sleep won the battle of wills. There’s always the morning.

Next morning, Simon awoke to the smell of fresh bread and this time his stomach won the battle of wills. He bathed, shivering, in an old tin bath in the barn and found his clothes, washed and dried, waiting for him when he finished. He made his way to the house. Jhamed and Manfred were already dressed and ravenously tucking into chunks of fresh bread with assorted cheeses and cold meats. Simon sat down with them and joined in. For several minutes, the only sound to be heard was the munching of three hungry men.

Jhamed finished first, stretched back on the rear two legs of his chair and belched loudly as he dusted the crumbs out of his beard. “There’s something to be said for FirstWorld hospitality, that’s for sure. We should stay here another day and rest up. Simon looks like he needs some feeding up, he’s as thin as a Menubian harlot.” He burped loudly again.

Manfred smiled. “We have a meeting to attend tomorrow. We must get to Wizards’ Keep today. That means another long day of walking. And he’s too ugly to be a Menubian harlot.”

Jhamed let out a huge “Harrumph!” Unfortunately, he was in the middle of swigging a mug of fresh goat’s milk. He coughed and spluttered as part of the milk went down the wrong way. “I see you’ve little experience of Menubian harlots then,” he spluttered, after spraying a mouthful of milk in Simon’s direction.

Simon managed to dodge most of the white spray. “Hey, watch out, these clothes have just been washed. Where’s Menubia? What’s Wizards’ Keep? What meeting are we going to? Do we have to walk all day, again?” I’m not sure I can manage it again.

“Does Redhead never stop asking questions?” Jhamed laughed, pulling on his wide brimmed floppy hat and roughly stuffing his long curls inside it. “Better be ready to move, my lad, the road is long and Manfred is a hard task master.”

“Patience, Simon,” said Manfred. “All of your questions will be answered at Wizards’ Keep. It is an ancient place, built at the beginning of the world for a special purpose that I shall explain when the wise and our other invited guests are all assembled there. There are so few of