Isle of the Wicked

The four made their way to the very heart of the Wicked Rocks. At the base of the tallest stone spire, a pit opened in the ground, gaping like an open wound. After Allamu and Sabit had hung the boar carcass between two jagged boulders, Melcior gestured the group toward the pit. Allamu asked, “Is … Read more

A strange party they made. Melcior led the way through the maze of towering, claustrophobic Wicked Rocks. The tall, thin captain wore a tunic of smooth cloth, tattered at its hem by the harshness of the island, its embroidery spoilt by twigs and mud. Melcior’s brain buzzed with plans and concerns. Would the newcomers embrace … Read more

As she worked to prepare the boar’s carcass for transit, Sabit continued her tale. “I suppose they wanted to see if I could hunt as well as I claimed before they took me to their priest.” “Priest?” Allamu asked. “What need do city-folk have for a priest so far from civilization?” “I wondered the same … Read more

Allamu told Sabit of his salvation upon the dolphin’s back, and the hospitality of the fisher folk. She nodded as he spoke, her hands occupied with preparing the boar for butchering. She worked quickly with a sharp, dainty bone knife. Somehow, no matter how many cuts she made, its white surface never seemed to stain … Read more

The boar rushed toward Allamu, its tusks bearing razor-sharp death on their tips. The branches across their only other route resisted Wensa’s best effort to cut the fibrous knots. Solid stone loomed to the left and right. There was no escape. From above, a shadow fell, its long spear striking the boar’s back, driving through … Read more

The Wicked Rocks clung close together. Often, barely a shoulder’s width of space separated the cold, stone surfaces. In places, the soft earth underfoot gave way to jumbles of unforgiving stones, forcing Allamu and Wensa to slow their pace and choose each step with care. The closeness of the rocks and the odd angles of … Read more

Wensa led Allamu along the base of a low rise. To his eyes, the thick ferns and towering trees seemed just as thick here as along the upward slope she had guided him from. Yet, in following her, Allamu’s feet fell easily on an unhindered trail—perhaps a route opened by the movements of animals. Although … Read more

The foliage was thick, pulling at the hem of Allamu’s skirt and tangling in his hair with every step. He struggled to make much progress, but when he could manage a glimpse between the broad, green leaves, the sight of the tops of the spires that marked the Wicked Rocks seemed to grow no closer. … Read more