Chapter XV

And thus, the adventure of Tob’s Promise started again, thanks to a rickety old truck driven by a defector masquerading as a Highway Patrolkoopa. Fortunately, he could see and move his hands a little this time, but the view was certainly no more inspiring.

As he had expected, the patrol truck had a false floor arrangement beneath its equipment store on the trailer, except the backing plate served as the way in and out into the narrow confines, enough to fit two full-grown armed Yoshies with their Storages replenished with their goods, or four Koopas in their shells as his estimate. It was stiflingly warm despite the cool night air, and ordered to complete silence, each passing minute taxed Lich’s already strained nerves.

What had they done to the Boomerang? And the Spear? Sure, they were put into a safe, but it was propped up against a wall and could very well have had a false back.

Don’t be daft, the self-defence mechanism was switched on.

It’s not foolproof.

Lich grimaced as he tried to ease his mind. As he slipped his hand to the Boomerang, he scraped his knuckles along the coffin ceiling and drew a sharp breath.

There was a thump above as one of the “Patrolkoopas” stamped his hush in reply with a heavy boot.

A scowl formed momentarily on his lips as the sound rattled around the compartment. He then let his mouth relax, closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, and let his emotions centre.

The world around him dulled as his consciousness entered the Mana Field once more. They were passing a number of Koopas outside, but certainly fewer in number than before; it had to be late evening. He took a moment to feel the Patrolkoopas presences, then ignored what his sensing told him and focused on the Boomerang.

Lich felt its presence’s heaviness for a moment, retreating before the strain pulled on his mind too much. Initially, it felt lighter than he expected, but then he remembered the heavy usage over the past day. It was like a jug, where every time he used it in any way, water was poured out, or in this case, Mana. He had not felt it since he had entered the Realm, when it was full. Any modifications the Mushrooms might have made would have been a very slight change in level, too slight for him to work out.

Even with the good amount of Mana in it right now, he felt that a full Boomerang was better in dangerous climes than a partly full one. He concentrated, letting himself become a reservoir and his hand a water spout, and slowly, the Mana began to flow from his presence to the Boomerang’s. It was a peaceful exercise, and somewhat pleasant; he thought he heard a muffled voice, but perhaps it was his imagination.

Two seconds later, his concentration was snapped by Ark’s jab to the ribs with an elbow. “He said, ‘No funny magic stuff, we’re near the checkpoint’, Dy,” he whispered hoarsely. “‘Don’t move,’ too.”

Lich grunted as the world returned to normal.

They slowed as they turned a corner and approached the gate out of Talk’gu. He could hear the drivers groan. “Queue, hold tight,” one spoke, and then they halted.

Like in their undignified entrance, the truck began to vibrate.

The Yoshies gritted their teeth. Lich’s chattered until he clenched them more tightly, which sent the vibration up into his skull. He changed his mind and opened them inside his closed lips, which caused his jawbone to dance. He pressed his tongue against his lower teeth and achieved some sort of equilibrium, except now the back of his throat twinged. His stomach had a sharp pang. The truck crept forward, but it only provided brief respite before the engine idled again.

The Spear clattered until Ark put his hand down upon it, turning its noise into a low thrum. He exhaled a frustrated sigh through his nostrils.

He bent his arm and patted his brother’s hand reassuringly a few times. He turned his eyes towards Ark and saw him flinch from the unexpected touch, then watched as the tension began to unwind a little. He knew his brother’s short fuse well, having been on the receiving end of the explosion a number of times. Keep calm, Ark, keep calm, Lich begged mentally. I know this sucks, but if you want us to live, keep calm.

The truck’s horn sounded twice and the springs above him creaked as the Koopa did something, probably gestures about hurrying up. After standing for a while longer than he expected, Lich cynically considered that the guards were taking longer purposefully.

Finally, they moved forward a couple of metres and halted again. The twinge in the back of Lich’s throat was developing into a nauseous feeling. He clenched his fist and shut his eyelids tightly and started to think about pleasant thoughts. His favourite cocktail – an extra sickening twinge in his throat brought about a swift end to that. Flying on his Dragonite Nessie, through the clouds, with the water settling on his skin, and then diving followed by suddenly soaring – no, not good. Swimming at the waterhole in his youth: much better, except for the time he had eaten some fruit he found on the shore – better to skip that. He wished the nausea would go away and not invade his mind. He tried to settle on thoughts that would provide a nicer feeling in his southern regions, hoping it would carry north to his stomach, but then the truck lurched forward suddenly.

The heat of close quarters and the stuffiness of the compartment were oppressive. The stench of Ark’s sweat was stronger than his own which, along with his frequent gulping, was a sign that the younger Yoshi was not taking it well. He was managing to remain silent, though Lich was unsure how long it would last, and if it would, too.

Ark needed water, and the only way he could get it was through Lich making “funny magic stuff”. A nearby Magikoopa could probably detect their presences anyway; casting spells would only bring attention. Not long, Ark, not long now…I hope.

The truck rolled forward and idled again, and Koopan voices began to speak. They were at the checkpoint now. The driver seemed agitated and rattled off Koopan too fast for Lich to hear in his muffled location; he caught snatches of it involving the word for “late”. It went on and on, with the driver sounding defensive. He knew it was an act, and he started to mouth a prayer to the Elementals that the guards would accept it and that they would get moving very quickly indeed.

The springs creaked as the driver released a frustrated growl, followed by heavy footprints outside. The opening and slamming of the driver’s door ensued, rocking the truck to the side and back again. The twinges in the back of Lich’s throat got worse, so he closed his mouth and made the prayer retreat into his mind, tensing up, adding to it that the driver had got out of his own free will.

There was a rusty swing noise above his feet as the back door was opened. Nothing seemed to happen for a moment. Then, the truck dipped at the back and righted itself quickly as heavy footsteps climbed aboard. Lich looked to Ark, biting his lip, and daring not to breathe; Ark, however, gulped audibly, his eyes wide, sweat pouring off his temples.

Oh no, no, not here, not now…

The footsteps cautiously, purposefully, made their way across the metal floor above them, towards the front of the vehicle. He could hear the shaking of tools in a crate being searched above his head. The footsteps turned around and a gruff voice rumbled.

Go away! Lich begged.

Ark gulped again, looking increasingly desperate.

The footsteps headed back towards the end of the truck. Lich sighed in relief silently. Now get us out of he–

THUMP!

Lich hit his head on the coffin roof as the floor gave way beneath them and sprung back as the guard jumped up and down at the back of the truck.

THUMP!

There was an unpleasant smell of whisky, a noise Lich never wanted to hear again in such close proximity, and a feel of droplets on his cheek which he certainly never wanted again. His stomach turned and threatened to return the deed to his brother; it was Lich’s turn to gulp now. The floor returned to its usual flat angle as the guard hopped off, apparently oblivious of what had just happened.

Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go! Lich begged. He winced, then began to sing mentally to an improvised tune, I’m not going to puke, I’m not going to spew, no, no, no, not me, I’m not going to vo-mit…

The springs creaked overhead and the door shut. Finally the rumbling stopped and the truck sped up as it left Talk’gu behind.

Lich shot a glance to Ark, who returned it with a sickly apologetic look. Cekyura had said that they could climb in the back of the truck once they had left the city. It was highly desirable right now, especially if a pothole came along. He opened his mouth to speak his request, but closed it again; they were travelling at speed now so they were likely to be outside the city, but who was driving? Was a KBT spy taking the truck somewhere he didn’t want to go?

He checked the Koopas’ presences on the field, and sighed in relief. They were the same from before. He slid up to the grease-covered breathing hole.

“E...excuse me,” he spoke quietly, in Koopan.

“Yeah?” a reply came from above in Yoshian.

“Is it safe to come out now?” Lich continued in his racial tongue. “My brother…er…”

“I thought I could smell Cekyura’s drop. I suppose you can, eh, Kart?”

“Yeah, let ‘em out, Kampagnie,” the driver sighed, “and put some cleaner in.”

The truck slowed as the springs relaxed and boots walked partway along the trailer. Latches were undone on the wall and something heavy scraped along the floor towards the middle of the truck. Kampagnie called out, and then a portion of the roof slid away above his back. Lich blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light.

“Alright; bend your knees and slide back,” Kampagnie instructed. “Just,” he added urgently as Lich started to do it, “watch you don’t cut your shins.”

With his legs bent up into the air, Lich started to creep backwards on his hands.

“Keep bending, keep bending, keep ben– good,” he said as Lich’s feet touched his tail and his head came into the light. “Grip the ledge in front of you and tuck your legs under yourself; I’ll control your feet so you don’t catch your legs.”

Lich emerged from the hole and saw that a double-sided set of cupboards and drawers had been moved along grooves into the middle of the truck. Once he was sitting on his shins, he rubbed his cheek against the inside of his arm; he then noticed with a pale face that it was wet on both sides.

“Egh, you look a state,” the Koopa spoke behind him, moving to the other side of the storage unit before Lich could catch a glance of him. “Stand up and catch this.”

A wooden cupboard opened and shut as Lich stood in the hole. Kampagnie then appeared to its side and tossed a plastic canister with moisturised tissues to him. Lich caught it and spoke his thanks.

“Dy, can I come out now, please?” Ark moaned weakly from beneath the storage unit.

He stepped out of the hole as the truck rounded a corner. Grabbing a nearby cord strung along the side to steady himself, he placed his feet on what had been his ceiling just before, looked down and breathed heavily as his stomach twisted.

“Good, good,” Kampagnie said satisfactorily. “Yes, you can come out now. Just roll to your side.”

Lich held on to the cord with his dirty arm and began to mop his face.

“Ergh,” Ark groaned. “Y-you know it means I have to–”

“I’ve got tissues, Ark,” Lich spoke, cleaning his neck.

He turned and watched Kampagnie help his brother out, focusing his attention on the Koopa and not wanting to see what state Ark was in lest he make a mess himself. He was dressed in the khaki and white sleeves and pants of the Highway Patrol, which stuck out of a red shell. As he mopped his arm, Lich guessed that he was about his age, but his eyes appeared to be haunted by experience. He was unsure what horrors lay along the Patrol routes – perhaps he was posted here after being disturbed by something in another area – but Lich did not want to hazard any guesses. While Kampagnie appeared to be friendly, he was still a spy and some things were understandably not to be spoken about.

Ark stood up blocking his view now, and Lich’s stomach turned as he quickly looked away and offered the plastic canister at full arm’s length.

“Could you step out, please,” Kampagnie spoke, his voice slightly wavering.

Lich heard Ark obey the request and step the other way, beside the Koopa. Quickly, Kampagnie went to the other side, withdrew a spray bottle from a cupboard rack, slipped past Ark again and shot its contents into the darkness. Once the whisky smell had been neutralised, he stepped out of the hole again and called to Kart. The floor slid across and, if Lich looked away for a moment and back again, he could not tell that he had just crawled out of a secret compartment there. The truck sped up again.

Kampagnie returned the bottle slid the storage unit back and latched it back into place. “Not to sound rude, but, do you guys need deodorant?” he offered.

“No, thanks,” Lich replied and a can appeared in his hand.

Kampagnie took a step back. “Whoa…I’ve heard of the magical storage thing, but I never expected things to just…appear like that,” he spoke in awe.

Lich shook the can briefly and began to spray it under his arms. He smiled and said, “If there were flashes of light or twirly glittery things, I don’t think it would be as special. Maybe I’m just used to it.”

He tossed the can to Ark, who put it down on the floor between his feet while he continued cleaning himself. Lich gulped briefly as he saw his brother, and then smirked as he saw the funny side of the issue. Poor Ark, he thought with an inward grin.

“May I ask something?” Ark asked. “Gets my mind off…well…you know.”

“Sure,” Kampagnie said obligingly. “If I can’t answer, I’ll tell you.”

“Why ‘Kampagnie’ and ‘Kart’? I’m used to Koopan names like ‘Telg’ and other names with that sort of…er…glottal stop thing.”

“Call signs,” Kart responded from the front of the truck.

Kampagnie nodded. “Just call us by them, and we’ll call you by yours.”

“Cekyura didn’t give us any,” Lich replied.

“He didn’t? Oh, I see…”

The Koopa looked down for a moment.

“Don’t let your superstitions start up,” Kart called in Koopan.

Kampagnie sighed. “Sorry about that,” he spoke in Yoshian. “I’ve had some bad times in the past with people without call signs. I mean, if you’re in radio contact with us, what do we call you? You know?”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about it,” Lich answered. “We’re radio silent from the KIA.”

Lich felt like biting his tongue. He was with spies, and even though they were an ally, they were by no means his colleagues. Kampagnie opened his mouth, but Ark began spraying the deodorant a little too fervently. The Koopa coughed on its musky scent.

“So,” he said, after he regained his breath, “you’re on a do-or-die, then. No backup.”

“Pretty much.”

Kampagnie nodded. “Between you two and Kart and me, I don’t know what Cekyura or the higher-ups are thinking. I’m supposed to trust them, but I have my doubts about sending two ‘guests’ out here.”

“You have your doubts about everything, Kam’,” Kart added, in Yoshian.

“It’s what keeps us alive, remember?”

Kart grunted, and kept watching the dark road ahead.

“I suppose you have doubts about us, then,” Lich said.

“Yeah,” Kampagnie laughed nervously. “It’s what spies do. Doubt. If we were so sure of everything, there wouldn’t be a need for us. We’d know what Bowser’s up to all the time and maybe, just for once, our Princess wouldn’t be in another castle.”

Ark tilted his head; for him it was a very strange thing to hear a Koopa speak “our Princess”.

“Anyway, drink?” he offered.

The Yoshies nodded emphatically.

“Only water here, but I’m sure that’ll be fine,” Kampagnie smiled as he started to stumble towards a water dispenser.

“Don’t trouble yourself, we’ve got our own,” Lich said, and began to pour from his finger into the grateful Ark’s appeared cup as Kampagnie’s jaw dropped.

Suddenly, the two-way radio suddenly beeped and Kampagnie held up a hand for silence. Lich stopped his pouring. “Alert to all Highway Patrols in the Southern Provinces from Central Command,” it announced. “Remain on watch for roadside camps. Scout camps but do not approach. Alert Central Command with position if orange or magenta Yoshies are present. Repeat: do not approach. One orange Yoshi and one magenta Yoshi suspected at large in Southern Provinces re Va’kotiku incident, presumed armed and highly dangerous. Reminder of Official Notice re Yoshies in vehicles: no Yoshies to use or drive motor vehicles until further notice. Alert Central Command with position and direction if spotted. End of transmission.”

Kampagnie lowered his hand and Lich finished. “Nice reputation. ‘Armed and highly dangerous’.”

Lich shrugged. “We do our best, I suppose,” he said, and shot refreshment into his mouth.

“It means that when we drop you off, you run for the hills,” Kart called back. “At the rate we’re going, you won’t have much time before the patrol from Rek’kango comes along, and they’re not with the KI–”

The radio beeped and Kampagnie held up his hand. “Talk’gu dispatch to TR2, come in,” it requested.

Kart pulled the handset off the dashboard and held it to his mouth. “TR2 reporting, this is Tan’gebar, over.”

“Please state your position.”

Kart turned his head. “Passing Milepost T27…now, over.”

“Expected passing of Milepost T36 by this time. Something wrong, TR2?”

“Delay at north guard station, otherwise fine, over.”

“Thank you, TR2, over and out.”

Kart replaced the handset and Kampagnie lowered his hand. “As I was saying, they’re not with the KIA, so don’t camp beside the road. Like these guys ahead. Kam’, buy us some time, will ya?”