The Nightmare City

Robert Van Dusen

The tall lithesome redhead turned in the saddle and looked back the way she had come, shading her eyes with a hand. She shook her head sullenly then stood in the stirrups and tried to get her bearings. Everywhere she looked it seemed the same, a barren ashy gray wasteland of screamingly monotonous rolling hills dotted with what looked like fallen columns at first. Upon closer inspection she discovered that they were in fact ancient trees transformed by some sorcery into solid stone. She sighed dejectedly and prodded the horse's flanks with the heels of her boots.
/=Well, I guess that's why they call this place the Petrified Forest..=/. she thought with a wry, humorless little smile. It also stood to reason that it was why the men pursuing her had given up and turned around... It was said ages ago some great wizard had put a blight on the land, turning everything to stone for leagues. It was one thing to hear the stories while far away and safe. It was quite another to be here staring off into the wastelands.
All this fuss over a misunderstanding. She had tried to explain to Tiberius that it was her understanding that, since she was the one taking the risks breaking into Drusus Falco's counting house she would be getting sixty percent of the take. He had insisted on giving her forty so when the remaining twenty percent came up missing a couple days later... Well, nothing to be done about it now... Sarah thought with a sigh. Luckily she had already invested the cash so she would not be burdened carrying all that coin before walking into that inn where a handful of Tiberius's goons happened to be gambling the night away in the corner...
She paused and looked thoughtfully at the sky for a long moment then decided on what looked like a southerly course. With luck she would run into the River Styx as it wound its way to the Bantiren Ocean. Failing that once she hit the coast she could turn east toward Enri or west toward Sturike...if she were remembering her geography correctly... It had been some time since she had actually looked at a map, after all...
By mid afternoon the horse's sides were foamy with sweat and it staggered under the weight of its saddle even though she had loosened the girth as much as she dared. His rider was faring little better. The braid that hung down between her shoulders slowly came unwound, the laces of her light green tunic tugged free and cast aside. The leather belt with its many pouches held a pair of long daggers at her hips, their bronze hilts glinting in the sun. The gray ashy dust covered her boots and powdered her soft doeskin breeches. The sun beat down relentlessly, baking the earth beneath her to the consistency of a fired clay pot and not even a puff of wind disturbed the torrid air...
Sarah sat down on a calcified log near the crest of a low rise and wiped at her brow. "Where the hell am I?" she asked the empty air as she looked around. Her cerulean eyes went wide when the horse staggered and let out a horrible rasping wheeze before crashing to its knees. "Oh no... No...nononono..." she moaned as she went to the beast's side. Her shoulders slumped by the time she sank to her knees by the horse's head. It let out a shuddering groan and then lay still, its dark brown eye staring up at her. Sarah shook her head in disbelief as she stared down at the horse. The poor thing was stone dead.
/=Well shit...=/ Sarah thought as she planted her hands on her hips and surveyed her surroundings. She blinked and shook her head then rubbed her eyes and stared... There was what looked like a...small town or maybe a small castle there in the distance. The woman laughed, her voice harsh and grating like the cawing of a crow in her ears. It had to be a mirage, some trick of the light. She had not seen it a minute ago when she stopped to rest... Her shoulders sagged. /=There's nothing for it. =/Sarah thought resignedly and started trudging doggedly toward the lighter gray spot down the slight grade.
Sarah's brain was buzzing by the time she staggered into the scant shade provided by the city walls. A grin spread across her features when she saw there was a moat with a thin sliver of water at the bottom of the ditch beneath the ramparts. Astonishingly enough there was a barbican a few dozen yards away, its drawbridge down and gates standing wide open. However when she peered through the gate there was no guards or indeed anyone in the street beyond... The young woman stood there a moment, wiping her parched lips.
Go through the gates...
Go down to the moat...