She was calmer this time, though, and noticed the creature's feet were pointing away from the bed. A moment later, it shuffled off. This apathetic visitor starkly contrasted with her memory of the dangerous stalker from a year ago. All the same, she stayed under the bed clutching the dagger until well after sunrise, when she hesitantly pulled herself from under the furniture and looked around the small bedroom. Once she felt safe, she searched the main room and the other bedroom. No sign of the creature appeared in any room, and Karp felt free to breathe deeply for the first time in hours. The creature's footprints in the sand outside the main door had been blown away overnight. There were no signs of a monster ever having been there, in fact. Several more dwellings sat in the direction of the mountains, and Karp marched toward a medium-sized building.
Clay bricks formed its lower walls. Hay and wood shingles protected the roof, just like the house where Karp had spent the night. This building had several windows shut tightly with wooden covers. The door was cracked open, but the premise seemed otherwise undisturbed. Sand accumulated just inside the doorway, and Karp huffed as she shouldered open the door. The door creaked as it ground the floorboards, but the effort was a welcome sign that nothing had entered or exited the building in some time. The building's exterior was similar to the last, but the inside resembled a warehouse. The interior only consisted of one large main room and one small room on the far end. Large clay jars and cabinets lined the main room's walls. Small cabinets hung on the walls over most of the little pots and contained decaying paper, charcoal, and other secretarial tools. In some distant forgotten past, the jars probably stored a community's food and valuables, but now only a few held just sand or dirt. Karp pulled her dagger out and paced around the tables, looking for a sign of anything alive. After clearing the larger room, she headed to the smaller room.
The room's heavy door was fastened tightly. No matter how hard Karp pushed, the door wouldn’t move. She gave up and cleaned the sand on the floor. After cleaning for an hour, she found a key lying under a pile of sand. The key opened the door to the smaller room, but Karp's dreams of treasure was cut short. A large desk sat in the center of the room, a small cabinet hung on the left-hand wall, and an urn rested on the right wall. As Karp's eyes adjusted to the room's darkness, she recoiled at a person sitting at the main desk. She cautiously swiveled around the desk and approached the man. Under closer inspection, though, the person was just bones wearing cheap armor. Its leather pants and top were cracked and frayed to tatters from the dry air over the long years since this person had died. Karp could still sell the iron helm and short sword, but rusted armor sold for less than its weight in iron. Karp sheathed her dagger and opened the small cabinet. Iron leatherworking tools and small iron knives filled sacks hidden in the cabinet's darkness.
Karp retrieved the iron knives and shifted back to standing outside of the rear of the inn. Inside the tavern, Karp traded the blades for a week's lodging and the night's food and drink. The next morning, Karp went to the general market and sold the helm and sword for two weeks’ worth of fruit and meat. The village's leatherworker gladly traded a new summer outfit and enough coin to allow Karp to spend another two weeks at the inn in exchange for the leatherworking tools.
Karp returned to the market when she finished her food and inspected an apple while considering how to pay. Karp had nowhere in her world to store valuables, and so she had left everything in her storehouse in the Arid Desert. Without thinking, Karp shifted to her storehouse to check for valuables to trade. She placed the apple on a table and walked to the cabinets. There was nothing she could part with for only a few days’ worth of meals. She backed away from the wall and shifted back to her world.
The store owner watched Karp return and noticed that she had shifted back into a different position. To Karp's surprise, the owner rushed over, grabbed her arm, and shouted for the village guard. Karp panicked, broke free, and ran away. The owner's shouts followed her as she fled.
˝Help! Help! Guards! Guards! She's a shifter.”
Comments (0)
See all