Etude 20: (names are for the weak!)

I just had to include the flute scene as soon as I thought of it. I've been waiting for chapters for a good place for it. :P

Etude 20

Sarah stopped along the trail, trying to fan herself with a broad leaf. "Is it just me, or is it getting really hot in here?"
Armand stopped, and considered. "It is getting kind of hot."
"Nice and warm! Just like home! Yay!"
Sarah blinked. "Armand, did you notice leaving the forest?"
"No." He spun around to look behind him. There was only a vast expanse of desert, with no sign of a forest anywhere. In front was more desert, and a wall made of a glowing, shimmering substance in the distance. "I guess this is on the way to the Eyes."
"I guess."
"Real sand!" exclaimed Quickling. He happily burrowed down a little way, and then started frolicking in the stuff.
"Hey, watch out! You're getting sand all over us!"
"Oh. Sorry, Armand." Quickling stopped playing.
"Just be a bit more careful."
"Any idea what this place is," asked Sarah.
"Sand!"
"Let me see if it's mapped. Armand searched through his pack until he found the worn, creased map that one of the Mound Folk had given them. It was not nearly as readable or well-made as the one from the Butterfly People, but it was serviceable. "Hmm."
"The only desert I see listed there is the Wailing Desert, which is where the Eyes are."
"I don't hear any wailing."
"It could be a metaphor or something."
"I don't think anything has been metaphorical here."
"Oh yeah. But it still might be something you only hear sometimes."
"And... I don't know, I guess I feel like it shouldn't be this easy to reach the Eyes."
"I guess." Sarah strained her eyes to make out the shimmering barrier. "You want to see what that thing is?"
"Okay." They trudged on through the sands, with only Quickling enjoying the heat.

After a short time they came to a circle of stones in the desert. The stones were smooth and glassy; black with sparkles trapped within. They were arranged around a central stone. On the rim of the stone were twelve cups, each filled with a different liquid. One of the outer stones had an inscription that was unreadable until they got closer. [insert cool poem here about choosing the liquid that brings life and calm. insert part where they manage to figure out which one it is.]
"So, um, what do we do with this?" Sarah swirled the liquid around in its cup, staring into its depths.
"Well, there's that hole in the center. Maybe we need to put the cup there? Or pour the liquid in or something?"
"I can't see anything! Why do the stones have to be so high?"
"Shh, Quickling. When you grow up you'll be taller than they are."
"But then I won't be able to move!"
Sarah patted him absently with the hand not holding the cup. She reached for the center, trying not to overturn any of the other cups, but couldn't make it. She handed the cup to Armand. "You have more reach than I do."
He nodded, and moved some of the cups aside so they wouldn't get in the way. Stretching, he managed to put the cup into the central hole. Its dodecagonal base fit exactly in and settled with a satisfying click. The cup disappeared in a soft glowing haze and a shower of blue sparks. After the haze cleared, they could see a large bowl, also filled with liquid. On top of it was a flute. Armand tried to reach for the bowl, but it was too heavy to move easily and he had no leverage to speak of. "Argh," he said conversationally.
"It's too far?"
"Yeah."
"If only we had a hook or something."
"We're not fishermen."
"No, but... Oh! How about if you push it to the otherside with your sword? That should put it within arm's reach."
"That's a good idea." Armand unsheathed the Sword of Peace and started to extend it across the stone. He stopped midway.
"What's wrong?"
"There's some kind of resistance. It's like trying to push it through rubber or something. I can't get it in any farther."
"Oh."
"It was a good idea."
"Yeah."
"Do we have to get that bowl?"
Armand blinked. "I don't know. It's obviously here for some reason."

"Yeah, but maybe all that we had to do was make it appear."
"But the poem mentioned something about using the results of our labors."
"Oh yeah. Umm." She looked at the stone carefully. It wasn't all that high -- just about as high as a balance beam. "What if I just stand on this thing and walk up to the bowl?"
"I don't know. I never thought of that." He looked a little embarassed.
Sarah gripped the edge and pushed experimentally. "I can get up on it." She clambered on to the stone. There was no resistance. "Cool! I'm up!"
"Yay," said Armand dryly.
"Let me get the bowl." Sarah walked across to the bowl and picked it up. "Whoa, this thing's heavy." She looked at the flute perched on the rim. "Hmm, it's set into the bowl somehow..." Slowly, she made her way back to the edge, and set the bowl down. Then she climbed back off the platform. "Whew, that felt weird."
"Did it seem dangerous?"
"No, just hot. The thing's been baking in the sun for who knows how long, and my shoes aren't that thick."
"Ahh." He looked at the bowl. "Hey, there's another inscription."
"What's it say?"
"Hmm..." [insert cool poem about how drinking the liquid gives the drinker power to extend calm]
"That, uh, makes no sense," said Sarah.
"Well, I think we're supposed to drink the stuff."
"Sarah? Armand?"
"What is it?"
"Umm... Are there supposed to be flames everywhere?"
"Flames -- what?" Sarah looked up, startled. "Eeek!" The shimmering barrier that they had seen earlier had come closer, and proved to be a web of vigorously dancing flames. The flames were coming closer and closer, from all angles. They seemed unable or unwilling to enter the circle provided by the stones.
"Sarah, I can't get this flute off the bowl."
"What? Oh." She turned back to him. She could feel the heat now, although not very much; the circle of stones seeemed to shield them from the extreme temperature as well. She looked at the bowl. "Oh, I'll bet it's one of those things... If you drink from the bowl, you'll be able to pick up the flute."
"Ahh."
"Here, let me." She reached for the bowl.
He glared at her. "Can you play the flute?"
"Um, I can play a recorder. It can't be that different."
Armand looked at her, vexed, and tilted the bowl to his lips before she could stop him. He drained the thing in one large gulp, grimacing at the taste. "Ugh! That's worse than medicine!" He picked up the flute -- it came away easily in his hands -- and started to play.
Sarah stood there gaping for a while. Armand was playing the flute easily and expertly -- it was some piece that sounded vaguely familiar to her but that she couldn't place. And, incredibly, the flames seemed to respond to the music. Their dancing changed to a slow swaying in time to the melody issuing from the instrument. "Armand, they're responding to the music!"
He nodded absently, then closed his eyes and segued into a different tune. This one was more spritely and was definitely a dance of some sort. The flames began to dance. The sight was beautiful, and Sarah just watched it for a while. It was like staring into a fireplace on a cold winter's night, but even more so. Then she realized that Armand was moving, and doing his best to beckon her with jerks of his head. Quickling was already following him. Looking at where he was headed, she realized that the flames had opened a path. She followed quickly, a little nervous. Once they left the protection of the stones, she felt a sudden onrush of heat, but then the melody changed again, more subtly, and the heat was gone. Armand kept walking, playing the flute, until they had left the flames far behind them. Then he collapsed limply onto a nearby dune and let the flute drop. He was panting.
"Huff... I haven't played that long in ages."
"I didn't know you played the flute."
"You never asked." He shrugged. "Not something I advertise."
"Why, was it your mom's idea?"
"Yeah. Her other friends had their kids on pianos and violins, so she made me take up the flute just to be different." He grimaced. "Argh, just need to get my breath back..." He looked in the direction of the flames, which were now retreating. "I sent them away."
"How did you know what to do?"
"It's... The flute is a little like the Sword. It prompts you to do what needs to be done. It might do even better with a proper awakening, but I didn't think of that." He held it out to Sarah.
She took the flute from his hands, and then yelped as she dropped it. "Whoa! That thing's heavy!"
He looked at her curiously. "Hmm."
Quickling crept up to the flute and poked at it with some rocks. "Oooh, pretty."
"Don't eat it."
"I won't! I know better! It's kind of like me, anyway."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"It touches the ground. It's meant to touch the ground unless it's forced not to."
"You mean gravity?" Asked Sarah.
"Gra-vi-tee?"
"Never mind." She turned to Armand. "Is your breath back yet?"
"Yeah." He picked up the flute again, looked around his clothes, and stuck it in one of his pockets, next to the Sword.
"Weren't you going to try to awaken it?"
"Oh yeah." He took the flute out of his pocket, looked at it blankly, blinked, and put it away. "I'm not sure now is a good time."
"Okay."
"Where are we?" Asked Quickling.
"Um, I was hoping you would know," said Sarah.
"We're in a desert!"
"Yeah, I think we figured that part out."
"There's something over that way, I think." Armand pointed at a dark shape on the horizon. He shaded his eyes to look at it. "I think they're mountains of some sort."
"What does the Sword say?"
"Hmm." Armand drew the Sword of Peace and closed his eyes. After a while, he opened them. "It says that those are the Sudden Mountains, and we are probably very far from the Eyes of the Whirlwind."
"Oh."
"Why are they called Sudden Mountains?"
"Umm... Give me a moment." He got that listening look on his face again. "Because they appear suddenly and without warning, even if you were somewhere else before."
"Oh. I guess that's why we didn't notice them earlier."
"Well, the Sword says we can probably get to the Eyes through them, so I guess that's the way we're going."