CHAPTER EIGHT

The Shape On The Pyre

  Isaac bit into the cooked fish, casting aside all table manners and devouring it. He swayed from side to side on top of his new rocky steed. Or maybe it was a rocky bull, considering the stone creature had horns. It looked more like a gargoyle than anything else Isaac could come up with. Aster swayed in front of him, seated on the twisting horns, legs dangling. She ate a fish of her own, several more laying in her lap.

  They were traveling to a place called “Heimgaard”. Aster had said her friend would be there. Isaac had tried telling her about the voice, but she had remained sceptical despite Isaac’s repeated assurances and all but demanded that they head for Heimgaard. It wasn’t like Isaac had even the first clue of where to start looking for a tower, and so he’d had no choice but to do as she said. He hadn’t given up on convincing her though, and they’d been arguing ever since, only stopping to furiously feed on the fish they’d stockpiled.

  “I don’t think you could’ve heard what you thought you did,” Aster said through a mouthful. “No one can understand the voices. I’ve never even heard of anyone understanding them.”

  “But I did!”

  “There’s been rumors, of course, scared people always cling to legends of a way home or similar.”

  “Are you even listening to me?”

  “—but that’s all they are, rumors and legends!”

  Isaac turned away from her, watching the trees and bushes glide by them as the rock creature trundled along with a calm and measured pace. He threw a fishbone aside and turned back. “I know what I heard. Do you know anything about a tower? I gather there’s not many buildings around these parts, so maybe a tower would stick out.”

  Aster bit her lip and grew silent. So she had been listening. She hesitated. “I have heard about a tower before, but it’s not what you would call a reliable rumor.”

  Isaac waited. “Well?”

  Aster threw a fishbone over her shoulder and Isaac had to dodge it by swaying so far he almost fell off. “Hey!”

  Aster twisted around and faced him. “Look, we’re going to Heimgaard and that’s that.” She held his gaze with her own unblinking stare. “We’re not gonna go off on some wild treasure hunt just because you have a hunch!”

  Isaac made a wounded sound. “I’d hardly call a voice blasting me half unconscious a ‘hunch’!” Aster kept eye contact. “It was really insistent, Aster. It told me everything started with the tower.”

  She looked not the least bit convinced, if anything she looked perhaps more disturbed. “What started with the tower?”

  “Everything.”

  “You mean you don’t know.”

  “I mean ‘everything’ pretty much encompasses anything you could want.”

  Aster continued to stare at him.

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  “Look around you for Christ's sake! Everything’s fucked up!” Isaac looked down and tapped the creature with his hand. “Look at the thing you’re riding to start with. Doesn’t this all seem strange to you?” Aster didn’t respond, she just watched him, judging. “Where does it all come from? How does it even work?”

  “It just does, okay?” Aster seemed very uncomfortable, like she wanted to end the conversation.

  “The voice mentioned my brother, Aster. I can’t just let that be, I need to find out if there’s more to it. Don’t you want some answers? What better way to find out than from the source, the keys themselves!”

  “Isaac, you’ll get the answers you need once we get to Heimgaard.”

  “The answers I need? Not the ones I want?”

  “Alright! Fine, the answers you want, happy?”

  “Calm down, Aster, I’m just joking.”

  “I am calm!”

  They sat in silence and ate. Isaac wanted to discuss the matter more, and he also had hundreds of questions he wanted to ask. But he thought it best to let Aster be for a while. Besides, he was still hungry despite the amount of fish he’d eaten in the last few hours.

  It had taken them quite a bit of time to get over the initial shock of seeing the creature grow to five times the size right in front of their eyes. Aster especially had been shaken. She’d started cursing him out over being reckless with his key, harping on about some kind of key discipline dictating that you should never take your keys out so people could see them.

  Isaac suspected the real reason was because she was interested in his key for some reason, possibly for herself. He hadn’t been able to get it back from the creature, it just looked at him quizzically whenever he tried to reason with it. Perhaps Aster was frustrated with him because now the key was out of reach for the both of them.

  Their dispute didn’t last long however. Once they’d gotten over the shock they had quickly found a use for their new companion. After several attempts, Isaac and Aster had, through a lot of pantomiming and cajoling, managed to convey to the stone creature that they wanted fish from the river, not stones. Once Isaac saw the concept of a fish click inside the creature’s head, something amazing had happened.

  The sentient rock had jumped into the river and turned into a veritable fishing machine. A stream of flapping fish cascaded down onto the shoreline as the creature’s arm became a blur of motion and water. Isaac had barely been able to contain his excitement and hadn’t even noticed Aster’s expression at first as he hugged her. He had let go the moment he saw.

  But Isaac’s elation hadn’t subsided. Finally something had gone right after so many failures. The key power wasn’t very conventional, and Isaac still didn’t know what it would mean in the future, but at least it wasn’t useless. The fish had never stood a chance.

  “What are you gonna name rocky here?” Aster said eventually, tapping a horn with a half-eaten fish. Isaac made note of the change of topic, but saw it for the peace-offering it was.

  “I don’t know, should I name it already? What if something happens to it?”

  “I haven’t seen him eat anything so he’s not a golem, and since he hasn’t crumbled yet, I think it’s permanent.”

  Isaac attempted to read her expression. “You say ‘him’, how do you know it’s a ‘he’?”

  Aster petted it’s horns. “I have a feeling.”

  “Right.”

  “You should name it Rocky.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know? It’s a rock, so— Rocky, it’s perfect.”

  “A bit on the nose, isn’t it?”

  “On the nose? What do you mean?”

  A sudden inspiration hit Isaac, and he laughed to himself.

  “Don’t laugh at me.” Aster looked sour.

  “No, no, I’m not laughing at you, I just came up with a name.”

  She frowned. “Well, what is it?”

  Isaac petted the rocky skin beneath him with a sudden affection welling up in him.

  “I think I’ll name him Dwayne.”

  Isaac laughed for the first time in a long time, reaching for another fish, resting up as Dwayne carried him to his destination. Aster looked at him like he’d gone insane. Dwayne chortled an imitation of Isaac’s laugh. It sounded like a cement mixer filled with nails. Yes, Dwayne was a mighty fine name for a rock. The best petrock a man could ever have asked for.

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