Blue Hills by Steve Shilstone Page A

is ...”
    She got no further. The crystal ball lifted to float in the air, and with it, so did we! Up the hill we glided in its wake. Rise and fall, it led us above the contours of the Blue Hills.
    We passed over the boundaries, and I gazed at the blue sand churning in each of ‘em. Kar nervously babbled non-stop. I said nothing. We reached the summit of the fifth Blue Hill tier. The crystal ball settled onto the smoky blue grass there, and so did we. As Kar and I touched down, the hill opened below us, revealing a silver blue stairway. The crystal ball floated directly to me and stopped a scant smudge of a distance in front of my face. I knew what I was expected to do. I knew. I reached up and took the blue glowing globe into the palm of my hand.
    â€œYoss! That’s it!” I said.

Chapter Thirty-Seven
    The Snave of Unnek
    â€œWitch speak again,” said Kar like as if in a daze, overcome so such by our unexpected encounter with the legendary pink windwhirl and more so even by what had followed with the dreamy magic of the crystal ball carrying us gently to the top of the highest fifth tier Blue Hill.
    â€œYoss,” I said solemnly. “Rich beak ... witch speak. Listen and bark ... mark well. I will recite the ... the ... second cart ... part ... of ... No Fee’s ... Toe Sea’s ... Row Gee’s ... the Flute’s! ... gong ... song. Yoss. That’s it. First A and E, then I, O, and ... and ... U! Yoss! The beers ... tiers of the ... the snaves must be ... be ... climbed. Riddle and nonsense, babble ... babble and ... and bargain, the ... nook to be found must be timed ... no ... rhymed! Yoss! That’s it! Frown the stairway, Kar. Down!”
    Cradling the crystal blue globe in both my hands, I led the way down the stairs. The silver blue light surrounding us was comfortably dim. The blue dirt walls on both sides and the blue dirt ceiling above were streaked with silver smooth wet glistening ribbons of clay. Kar, subdued to silence, held on to a pinch of the back of my jacket. The stairs were steeper and went deeper than had any of the others. The steady rhythm of our bootsteps disturbed the otherwise long silent journey. After a lengthy descent, the stairway ended, swinging left to the entrance of a cavernous theater. It seemed so such like as all of the others. Tiers of benches circled around a platform stage. The benches were empty of snaves. The stage, howsoever, was not. A single midnight blue snave waited there, regarding us with its great round eye.
    â€œI meant to say something else,” it called out. “Proceed.”
    â€œI am ... here ... to bind the book ... find the nook ... of the ... the ... Harick,” I announced.
    â€œNook?” squeaked Kar. “How do you ...?”
    I silenced her with an elbow jab.
    â€œI will allow yesterday’s interview,” said the snave. “Proceed.”
    â€œIs it ... blue ... true ... that you ... are the only, singular ... wave ... snave of Unnek?” I began with confidence sprouted from an unknown source.
    â€œThey wrote it on the wall,” answered the snave, and it writhed, quivering its four tentacles. “Proceed.”
    â€œThe portal to the hook ... book ... nook! ... lies beneath your ... cage? ... no ... stage! Yoss! That’s it! Isn’t it?” I pronounced with a firm, though witchly, boldness.
    â€œWhy don’t you tell our story from the ...”
    My elbow again put a stop to Kar’s urgent mutter.
    â€œSometimes why is a question worth flinging,” said the snave, and it drummed on the stage with its tentacle tips.
    â€œWhy?” I asked.
    â€œBecause,” it answered. “Proceed. Where’s the bargain?”
    â€œAh,” I said, opening my mind to more unbidden helpful thoughts and not getting ‘em. “Bargain ... bargain ... Hmmmmm ... If I climb ... grime ... rhyme! ... a bargain, will you open for us the ... the page ... stage! Yoss!