The Tarn of Eternity - Part 29
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Part 29

For a moment he lay still, then gradually worked his way upward, upward to the light.

Hours pa.s.sed. Or days. He had no sense of time, only of desperation. And finally he emerged from the imprisoning grains.

He forced the grit from his mouth, his nostrils. Rubbing carefully he cleared his eyelids, blinked slowly to regain once more his sight. His heard a continuous roar and he looked around to find the source. Then he realized it came from within him. He could hear no external sound! Both ears were plugged with grit, with desert silt and sand!

He found that, ears plugged, his sense of balance was lacking.

With each step he wobbled from side to side, both from lack of balance and from the loose particles beneath his feet.

He could see now, though dimly. His eyes burned and teared. If he only had water to wash his eyes.

And his mouth! Dry, filled with the taste of earth and silt and minute particles of rock. And the rising wind was driving even more grit into his face, into his lungs. He turned his back to the wind, gazed at the bleak landscape of Regulus' Lair.

For the most part there was nought to see but bare desert waste. And yet, dotted here and yon, remains of those who had gone before. A skull, whitened by the windblown grit. The rib cage, each bone in place, lying half buried at the base of a dune. And the horizon darkening as the wind's intensity mounted.

Though he could hear nothing the felt the driven grains striking even through his clothes. And dust devils rose from the desert floor, danced their dance, and faded in the distance. The sun was blotted out as the gusting wind lifted silt and sand and dust into the sky.

He lay down, desolate and knowing not which way to turn. But even as he lay on the desert floor the sand began to blanket him. With an effort he stood erect.

How could he find Regulus? Indeed, with the blowing wind, the shifting dunes, and the desert heat how could he do anything.

Zeus, he though, I have failed you. I'll see home no more.

Amun the powerful ruled those desert wastes. Amun the merciless drove the sand across its surface. But Amun could relent.

Perhaps the pleas of Mut, G.o.ddess Mother, perhaps but a whim, yet the winds died and dark clouds gathered, poured briefly their life giving waters on the scene below.

The huge drops fell, pelting the desert floor, drenching Demo in the deluge of a rare thundershower. And bringing a new and different danger.

For the rain fell in torrents, and water rushed down gullies, down ravines, flushing sand and rocks before it. A wall of water loomed above Demo's head, coming ever closer. He clambered up the side of a dune, fell. He rolled down, but managed again and again to regain his footing. Finally he reached the top.

Standing there he gazed at the raging waters in disbelief. They ate at the dune as though a wild beast. Waves rose an bit away the sand beneath his feet. The dune shrank, began to merge with the surrounding water. The rain had ended, but the stream continued unabated.

And then, as suddenly as it had risen, the stream sank into the desert leaving but moist pools behind. Demo looked in disbelief at the sudden calm. Hurriedly he drank muddy water from a pool at the base of the dune. Even as he drank the thirsty soil soaked up the water. Small pools disappeared under his gaze, and larger ones shrank rapidly.

He knew the winds must have hummed, the torrents roared - and yet he had heard nothing, the silt and grit pounded into his ears. And he was sure that now there was silence - how much he wanted but to listen to that silence. He smiled at the idea, then frowned. How dare I smile at a time like this, he thought to himself.

Distracted by his thoughts he did not note the ripples on the largest pool. Ripples which emanated from movement beneath the surface. Movement that ever became more violent. Nor did he hear the hiss that bubbled up from the depths. Aroused by the torrential rains, the rushing waters, the blast of thunder, Regulus awakened.

"He's seldom gone this long. Demo is such an able hunter. I do believe if there were but one deer in the forest Demo would find it. We're never without venison, you know." She was proud of her son, of his prowess as a hunter.

"But this time the hunt has been long. And I dreamed of Moira last night." She shuddered. "May I never again have such a dream!"

"Moira? I don't know Moira."

"No, and be glad you don't! But enough of that. Come, you shall help me cook the last of our venison. I do hope Demo returns soon with his kill. He's always so proud, you know. Rough, leave those chickens alone!"

Hissing and writhing Regulus rose from the pool, slithered out on the sand. He gazed at Demo balefully. Demo neither saw nor heard. For him the world was silent.

But then he noticed something. A faint musty odor, and odor which he remembered from his dreams.

Demo quickly stood up, looked toward the pool of water. And saw Regulus rising, the brown drops shedding from his slick skin.

Wide-eyed Demo held the spear level, pointed toward the strange apparition.

Regulus regarded the spear point with concern, hissed mightily.

With consternation he observed Demo, hissed once more.

"Most unusual," he commented, "I must be losing my touch."

He slithered over the sand, undulating from side to side in his progress. He approached Demo, but kept a distance beyond the spearlength. With slow sinuous motion he glided around the boy.

"Hisss! Hissssss!" he breathed, watched nonplused at the lack of response. "You seem not to understand, my boy. Have I failed in some manner to properly enunciate the sound? Perhaps my lungs are waterlogged! Know you not that none survive who hear the hiss of Regulus? How dare you continue to stand there, impervious. Bad mannered, to say the least."

He grumbled, still continued his slow and torturous encirclement of his intended prey.

"You must be Regulus," Demo commented, in part to himself. "I would hope, though my ears are so confoundedly stopped up I can't hear you, that you can hear me. I'm sent by Zeus to invite you to come live on Mount Olympus. No nasty sand storms - and absolutely no floods! Look at you, dripping and with wet sand sticking to your every scale! You could slither comfortably through the smooth green gra.s.s, dance to the flute, and sip nectar in sun."

Though Demo was hardly a salesman he was suddenly aided by the elements. A dark cloud was forming above, accompanied by thunder, lightning, wind - and sudden rainfall.

Regulus wriggled from side to side, glissaded down one dune, up another. But there was no place to hide. Grumpily he returned to a spot before Demo, nodded his head in agreement. Whatever Olympus had to offer, it would be an improvement.

Hardly had the contract been made than Demo found himself once more in Zeus' presence, accompanied by the sinuous serpent.

"Well, well, I'm pleased. So this is the Nubian Demon. I beg your pardon, but it is the reputation you have earned. Regulus, isn't it? Of course. Ah, you shall like it here. Yes, indeed.

But please stop that infernal hissing. You see, it really doesn't work up here. Just crawl into that basket over there.

And please, pull the top over you. My, what a surprise you shall be to my charmer.

"As for you, Demo, once more well done. I'm amazed at your resourcefulness. But do keep in mind that my little black cloud was helpful. Good day, my boy."

With a sudden thump Demo found himself once more in his own front yard. The fall had ended so abruptly the sand-and-silt plugged ears were cleared, and he could hear once more.

"Demo, I told you to stay out of that tree. My, I hope you haven't broken anything. Well get up from there and come to eat.

We have such wonderful company. Theresa is staying for supper."

Rough licked his cheek and grinned a dog grin.

Evening came early.

They ate their supper in a strangely quiet mode.

Afterward his mother looked at him for a moment, turned away, wiped a tear from her eye.