Thyme in a Flask

By Glen Quarry

Pursued by a shadowy demon, teenagers Jon and Dorthea enter a parallel world, billions of light-years from earth, to retrieve an important talisman. Dangers abound on every side, including the fear they may never find their way home again. There is humor along the way and a riddle to solve. Colorful characters fill the pages; a traitorous wizard, an infamous Queen and a sharp-tongued Uncle. A friendly giant befriends a tiny sprite in distress.
A tense confrontation in the alternate world and an unexpected twist will leave the reader spell-bound. The story is set in primitive times when magicians still dictate the affairs of the world and haunt the lives of the innocent.
If you love magic, wizards and fantasy, don't miss this gripping new read.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Glen Quarry
• Release date: Oct 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310172816

Glen Quarry

Glen is a fantasy writer from a tiny town in the midwest. An avid reader himself, he has a love for fantasy fiction, and it is in this genre that he's chosen to write. He works as a press operator in the printing industry.Glen's small hometown is set in some of the most fertile farm ground of the heartland, not unlike the hamlets and towns in the fairy-tale land he has brought to life.His hobbies include bicycling and wood working.

Book preview

She was a princess in a fairy tale land, and she enjoyed comforts available only to someone of her social standing. Her father was Samstiss, the King of Elsinore, and it was by his design that she lived with her maid, Rebecca, and not in the castle with her father. She had never known her mother.

At times, Joanna wondered why she lived away from her father, and then she would remember that he was a very busy man with a large Kingdom to tend. Rebecca would take her to the castle to see him on occasion, and she had ever so much fun visiting with him and his attendants in the throne room.

One day, Joanna happened to be playing alone in the palace gardens. She picked some daisies and put them together in a beautiful bouquet. While sorting the colorful collection in her small hand, she thought of her father, and ran up the hill to the castle.

The castle was very large, and she had trouble finding her father this day. He wasn’t in the throne room or the library where she had found him on earlier visits. There was much of the castle that was unknown to her, so she asked for the help of a guard by the throne room door.

Please, sir, can you help me find my father? she asked timidly. The guard’s brightly colored uniform intimidated her.

Well, let’s see, said the guard, smiling at her bright face. I think you’ll find him in his library, little princess. He led her to a circular stairway and pointed to the second floor.

But the library with all the books and maps is downstairs! exclaimed Joanna. He wasn’t there.

"Ah, you may have looked in the castle library, but that’s not his library, said the guard. Trust me, there is another library upstairs, and that is where you will find your father."

Joanna was frightened to go up the stairs alone. The castle was so big, and it troubled her to go into places she had never been. Her footfalls seemed loud to her ears as she mounted the cold, marble steps. Once at the top, she found a wide hallway, and the first doorway led into a quaint room filled with bookcases and shelves of heavy, leather-bound books. Her father was there, standing by the closet.

Joanna entered the room but stopped suddenly, for she immediately knew something was out of the ordinary. There was a cold, moist feel to the air, and she shivered involuntarily. Pulling her light vest closely around her neck, she crept uncertainly toward her father’s hunched figure. His eyes were closed.

Then her father turned to her, and she scarcely recognized him. A startled, almost fearful look was on his countenance when he saw her. Anger suddenly replaced the fear, and he glowered at her from beneath heavy eyebrows.

Then, just as suddenly as these emotions came they were gone, and Samstiss smiled at her and took the bouquet of daisies she offered. Once again, the kind father she knew stood before her. She felt him trembling as he held her, and for many years afterward, this visit became a recurring memory that she wished would go away.

Without knowing it, Joanna had stumbled upon her father as he returned from a journey into the empty land.

1: The Grim Rider

Jon Chandler relaxed, his legs dangling from the back of the wagon. A fine dust drifted over him, settling on his jeans and tickling his nose. He glanced at his friend, Samuel, who was snoring softly. The dust didn’t seem to bother Samuel at all.

Samuel was seven feet two inches tall and weighed all of three hundred eighty pounds. Despite his intimidating size, he was a congenial young man and Jon’s best friend. He didn’t look for trouble and would usually turn away from it when it was staring him in the face, but if he was threatened, his easygoing style could change quickly.

Samuel had asked to go with Jon to his grandfather’s place, shrewdly hoping to avoid the summer’s field work back home. He was tired of being ‘volunteered’ for farm labor every year, and his daddy was not only a hard worker but also a slave-driver.

Earlier, the boys had secured a ride on a friendly furrier’s wagon, for at least as far as the next town anyway. They would spend the next three weeks with Jon’s grandfather, and that might be good or it might be bad. Jon didn’t know how Othan would react to having Samuel at the house as he hadn’t mentioned his friend was tagging along, and the old man could be affable or cantankerous, often within the same few minutes.

The morning sun was warm and the light breeze ruffled Jon’s hair. He stretched his legs and glanced at the flowing prairie grass as they passed by. The monotonous creaking of the wagon wheels blended with the cheerful whistle of a road-side meadowlark and he felt himself drifting off to sleep.

A sudden lurch of the wagon made him sit up. He slapped the dust off his arms and tried to relax, staring at the back road. Far away he saw a cloud of dust, larger than expected from a slow-moving wagon or walking horse. It had been dry of late, and any activity on the road was apt to produce dust, but this cloud was huge, billowing high above the road. His curiosity was piqued and he watched with rapt attention. Soon a horse and its rider materialized from the shroud of dust, and it was apparent they were moving quickly. Jon rubbed the dust from his eyes and stared. The horse was fast; in fact Jon had never seen such speed from a riding animal, even though he had been to the derby more than once in his sixteen years.

"Don’t look into his eyes, Lad."

Jon jumped at the sound of the voice, and looked around. Samuel was inert beside him, and Patches, the merchant-owner driving the wagon, whistled off-key. Jon turned a finger in his dusty ear and wondered if he had heard a real voice.

"Can you hear me?" the voice spoke again.

I hear you, whispered Jon in wonder. Where are you?

"Good. Remember what I said."

In a matter of just a few minutes, the horse and rider had caught up with the wagon and slowed to walk beside them, dragging dust behind them. A stifling smell came with the dust; so foul was it that Jon slapped a handkerchief over his face and stared at the rider.

Something was unusual about this man. He was extraordinarily tall, strappingly built and carried with him an immense Power-field. The rider’s eyes were strange in every sense of the word. Even though they were partly hidden beneath the dark cowl over his head, Jon could make them out. They were colorless, and for all Jon could see, sported no pupils. How do you have eyes without pupils and still see? Jon was so curious he forgot the warning of the anonymous voice and maintained eye contact. The man’s gaze was compelling, riveting Jon’s attention and locking his gaze. It seemed the man was reading Jon’s mind as he rode, probing and searching.

Jon found he had lost control of his actions. For several minutes, he remained helpless in the gaze. It was only when Samuel sat up and the stranger's gaze shifted that Jon was able to look away.

Samuel rubbed his eyes and looked at the strange rider. Who's that fella? he asked.

Look away! Jon said quickly, hoping his friend wouldn’t fall prey to the gaze-lock.

Samuel began coughing violently from the stench and slapped a huge hand over his nose. Gawd, is he dead? choked the young giant. I think I can’t breathe.

Jon chanced another glance at the rider, this time being careful to avoid the gripping eyes. Just as the rider was tall, the steed was also unusually large. Its ‘black as midnight’ color matched the darkness of the rider's cloak and face.

Then, ever so slowly, the horse and rider began to pass the wagon. The rider turned to watch a moment longer, and then he kicked the horse savagely in the flanks. The horse screamed and surged ahead, bouncing off the shoulder of Patches’ inside horse and nearly throwing the team off the road.

Watch where you’re going, you moron, Patches screamed, shaking his fist at the departing dust cloud. I’ll show you the hard side of my fist! The furrier sawed on the reigns, fighting to regain control of his team, and the wagon pulled up with one wheel off the road.

Sumpin smelled bad, said Samuel, looking a bit green.

I’m cold, said Jon with a shiver.

Cold! You must be sick, Squart, said Samuel. It’s hotter than blazes out here.

Maybe so, but it doesn’t change how I feel, said Jon. He grabbed a couple of the pelts from a pile in the wagon to cover himself. I hope we never meet that fellow again. There was something unnatural about him. Did you notice his eyes, Sam?

Naw. My eyes were watering from the smell and I didn’t see anything.

He caught my gaze and I couldn’t look away, said Jon. It was almost like he froze my mind.

I think I could take him, said Samuel. He wasn't so big. The young giant picked up his rucksack and started munching on a sandwich.

Jon shook his head, unable to overlook the rider as easily as his friend. No matter what Samuel said, there was something more remarkable about the rider than the smell.

I heard a voice, Sam, said Jon.

Samuel looked at his young friend skeptically. What’d it say?

Don’t look into his eyes. That is what I heard.

You musta been dreamin’. I never heard it.

No, I wasn’t dreaming, and it was loud enough you should have heard it too, in between snores, that is.

By noon they had reached Pindra, and the boys were dusty and sore from bouncing on the wooden wagon floor. They had seen nothing more of the grim rider, and no other travelers on that section of road. Patches guided his team into an alley and pulled to a stop at the back door of the furriers’ shop.

Jon and Samuel slid from the wagon and stretched. Thanks for the ride, said Jon, digging into his pocket. Here’s a copper for you.

Patches waved it off. Keep your money. I can help out a couple of boys free of charge.

Thanks, Jon grinned, and look out for that rider.

Patches frowned. If I see that crazy rider again I’ll show him where he was wrong."

I wouldn’t get too close, said Jon.

Who had the flask last? asked Ophemus, an officer in the Queen’s army.

The Queen believes Monte or Othan had it last, but they’re as hard to nail down as the four winds, said Antone, the Queen’s chief advisor. We’ve been watching both for years.

Monte is the one that hid it, said the sorcerer Wysel. I know him well, but he won’t tell me where it is.

I wouldn’t blame him, said Ophemus. You’re hard to trust, Wysel.

I’m on your side and always have been, said Wysel. You don’t blame me for playing the part of their accomplice, do you?

We trust you, friend, said Antone soothingly. You are the best at bewitching spells, almost as good as the old sorcerer himself. The mirror spell you created last week was brilliant.

It’s good to be appreciated by somebody, Wysel grumped. No-one else has even thanked me.

I’m going to be the first to find Monte, said Ophemus grimly. I’ll put a blood-walker or two on his tail. Just don’t mention it to Joanna.

Antone shuddered visibly. Those dirty red devils… He shook his head, and then seemed to change his mind. Sure, go ahead and use them if you can. Maybe they can root him out.

Better they find him before the Searcher does, said Wysel. If that monster gets to the flask first, I’ll never see it."

I’d kill that Searcher demon if I knew how, said Ophemus.

Antone smiled. I’d like to see that, Ophemus. The blood-walkers might help with Monte but they’ll be no use when you take on Danil!

Leave him to me, said Wysel. I’ve got a plan.

2: The Upper Room

The road from Pindra to Dreman was busier than yesterday’s stretch. Merchant wagons, farm wagons and groups of riders passed them by as Jon and Samuel trudged along. Nobody seemed interested in stopping for two boys on foot. Most wagons were full of something or other and few riders liked to double up.

Dreman was the last stop before the twelve miles to Sanbalem, and the boys were glad to see the village after a six hour walk through the hottest part of the day. It was a drab, fishing community, but nicer than some of its kind, with more substantial buildings and better streets.

Let’s find a place to eat, Squart, croaked Samuel, his mouth pasty dry. He licked his lips and scanned the buildings as they passed.

Jon shaded his eyes and looked toward the setting sun. It was lowering fast, and Sanbalem was still a good walk up the mountain. Maybe Samuel was right. A meal and a good night’s sleep would be just the ticket.

On one side of the street they saw a two story inn called the ‘Jolly Traveler.’ The smell of food coming from its open door was tempting, so the boys ventured in. They found themselves in a poorly lit room and took a pair of vacant bar-stools. Only one other customer was at the bar.

I suppose you want supper, said the barkeep, wiping a glass on a soiled towel. I've got a pot of stew on the stove.

Give us some stew and a loaf of bread, said Jon.

The barkeep eyed Samuel sourly. It’ll cost the big fella twice.

You'll need more than that, Charley, laughed the other patron. Four times the price might get you closer to breaking even.

Samuel glared at the man. Eat your own supper and shut up.

The joker hastily went back to his plate.

Samuel removed a gargantuan shoe and shook out a pebble. We’ll pay twice for me, but that’s all, he said to Charley. And I’m eating all I want.

The barkeep grunted and left to plate up the food. For all his disagreeable appearance, he was generous with the stew, and the hungry boys eagerly fell to it.

They rented an upstairs room for the night, but almost regretted it when they saw the narrow stairway. Samuel found the walls too narrow for his shoulders, and he had to go up sideways.

The room was sparsely furnished; a bed, two chairs, and a small washstand for accommodations. The bed was barely big enough for Jon alone, so Samuel took one of the blankets and a pillow to make his bed on the floor.

This here’s going to feel good, sighed Samuel, dropping his huge shoes with a loud thud and causing chunks of dried mud to skip across the wooden floor. He sank heavily onto his makeshift bed and stretched out, nearly reaching from wall to wall. The blanket didn’t reach to his feet.

Jon took off his dusty clothes and washed at the basin, twisting a wet rag into his ears to get the dust out. It would be hard to get really clean. He knew he was still dirty, but his feet ached and he was tired. He lay on the bed and closed his eyes.

Samuel fell asleep quickly but Jon wasn’t so lucky. The image of a hooded figure on a tall horse kept flitting through his mind; a horse and a man so eerily alike in many ways. He shivered involuntarily. The speed of the horse and the grim rider’s paralyzing stare were disturbing, to say the least.

When at last he drifted into restless sleep, it was short-lived. He awoke with a start after what seemed like just minutes, his forehead damp with sweat.

A weak, greenish light was coming through the window. Samuel was gently snoring, but otherwise all was quiet. There were no sounds coming from below.

He rose and crept to the window. A dense mist had come into the village from the river, and he couldn’t see across the street. The view was foreboding. It certainly looked different than it had when they had come into town earlier. A lonely raven sat above the wooden inn sign, but after a minute it flew away on silent wings.

Then Jon saw movement to the left. He froze. A tall figure on a big horse was coming into view.

It was the grim rider from earlier in the day. The horse was moving slowly, and the rider was staring at the buildings he passed, as if searching for something. He pulled to a stop in front of the inn and sat brooding for a few minutes, seeming lost in thought.

Instinctively Jon crouched, eyes level with the window sill.

The huge horse stamped a foreleg impatiently as the rider sat motionless; the swirling of the mist nearly concealing him. A minute passed, and then another.

Suddenly the rider turned and looked directly at the bedroom window, catching Jon off-guard. The boy dropped below the window sill, hoping he hadn’t been seen. A cold shiver stole down his spine. For a long minute he squatted there, until fear and uncertainty drove him to peek over the sill again. The rider was gone, but the horse was still standing in the street, reins dangling to the ground.

Now Jon was really alarmed. Where was the rider? He sprang to Samuel and shook him. Sam, wake up. Wake up!

Samuel groaned and rolled onto his back. Another snore told Jon his friend was still asleep.

Jon roughly shook him again. Wake up, Sam! he hissed.

Samuel sat up, rubbing his eyes. What are you blubbering about, Squart?

The grim rider is out there! Jon said breathlessly, grabbing his pants and pulling them on so fast he nearly fell to the floor. "At least, he was out there. Now the horse is alone, and I don’t know where.…."

Then they both heard it; a measured tread, as if someone heavy was coming up the creaky stairs. The horse outside screamed. Jon’s nerves were wound as tight as a mandolin string, and his heart nearly stopped at the sound. Panic-stricken, he yanked on the rest of his clothes.

Samuel was instantly wide awake, and in the half-light Jon could see the whites of his eyes. The young giant yanked on his shoes and grabbed a chair. What in tarnation was that? he rasped.

I think…it’s the grim rider, Jon whispered.

Wal, I’ll be a tinhorn! Samuel gripped the chair so hard the muscles of his forearms bulged. He better not come here, or I’m going to show him some stars from heaven.

Jon tested the security bolt to make sure it was latched, and then he placed his ear against the door. He could sense an immense Power-field building beyond the door. It would take more than the thin wood of the door to keep them safe from this being, whatever it was.

The boys waited with stifled breath, straining to catch the slightest sound. They heard another creak, and this one sounded closer still. Jon closed his hand over the knife at his belt. The smooth handle in his hand somehow reassured him. A muffled grunt sounded and something brushed the door. Jon placed his hand on the door-latch and felt it slowly turning. The sound of the security bolt hitting the catch told him that pressure was being applied to the door. The bolt held.

For a minute there was no sound but the raspy breathing of the man just beyond the door. Sweat stung Jon’s eyes, and his heart was racing. By the meager light coming in the window, he could see Samuel’s face and knew his friend was terrified, too.

The horse outside screamed again. That awful sound! Battling through his fear, Jon wondered if the horse could somehow sense what was happening inside.

Then there was a roar, and a fist banged loudly on the door. A silent moment followed. Seconds seemed long as the boys stood wondering and waiting. The raspy breathing ceased for a short moment, and then there was an angry bellow followed by a frenzied assault on the door. A splintering sound and an enormous crash announced the failure of the bolt. The door flew open, hanging shattered and useless on one hinge.

3: Combat in the Dark

A rancid smell came with the intruder; the same the boys had noticed earlier on the road to Pindra. In the dim, greenish light from the window, the shadowy figure was immense. The man had to duck to come through the door, and when he straightened, he was shorter than Samuel by less than a few inches. The hood was still on his head, but what was visible of his face was twisted and deformed.

The immense Power-field of the man terrified Jon even more than his size. It gave the man an air of invincibility, of power beyond reckoning. The intruder raised a faint weapon the boys could hardly see and brought it down with a whoosh where Jon had been a second before. Jon’s quick reflexes had saved him this time.

Don’t look into his eyes, Jon thought desperately, as he raised his knife to strike. Just as he was about to thrust his weapon at the shadowy figure, the horse outside screamed savagely, and he nearly dropped his knife in his fright.

Samuel came at the beast from the other side, chair in hand. As he raised it above his lofty head to strike, the chair banged into the plastered ceiling above, and a shower of debris sprinkled down. The attacker whirled to meet the new challenge.

Left unguarded, Jon thrust his knife at his assailant’s chest, striking the shoulder instead when his target moved. The grim rider staggered backward with a groan and turned his face toward Jon. The eyes that had appeared clear in daylight now showed a pale blue, and again they gripped Jon in a hypnotizing embrace.

This time the deadlock was short-lived. Samuel ended it when he brought the chair down on the rider’s head. The force of the terrible blow was amplified both by Samuel’s primeval fear and his gigantic strength. The chair shattered into a hundred splinters and the stranger crashed to the floor without a whimper. The boys gaped at the inert form wedged in the doorway, slow to understand they had overcome the threat and were free to go.

Jon was the first to move, grabbing a long arm and struggling to extricate the heavy man from the doorway, but it was Samuel that pulled the man free. Without waiting to see if the stranger stayed down, the boys bolted through the door and headed for the steps. Jon was the first down and Samuel second and last, for after the young