Burly Jim crossed the lake, his ears straining to make sense of the steady ringing on the wind. As the boat headed northeast, the sound of more falling water gradually drowned out the noise.
The far side of the lake proved difficult for Burly Jim and his crew to penetrate. The shoreline consisted of low rocky outcrops surmounted by thick, overhanging brambles and vines. Directly opposite from the small falls that led into the lake, a great torrent poured down the cliffs, perhaps twice the height of a man, and through the break in the trees above that stream, Jim could make out the snow-clad peak of the eastern mountain. As he studied the near side of the mountain, he could make out two smaller peaks to the south of the great mountain, and then to his surprise he spied something large and winged launch itself from the highest peak. The distant speck circled once, then drifted in lazy arcs his way.
“You might want to hide yourself,” a rich baritone voice startled him. Behind, hovering silently on great flapping wings of his own, hovered a strange lion-lizard-unicorn thing. The men gripped oars and pikes and cutlass, though the beast was too far for those to be of much use.
“I know you,” Jim challenged the thing. “You led us a merry chase when you drew us away from the princesses, but we’ve found them anyway.”
“Finding and taking are two very different things,” the creature pointed out. “You’d do better to find their little lost friend.”
“Tokio? What use is a little mushroom man? He’s nothing but a child’s toy,” Jim scoffed.
“You may think so, but coyote know there is more to the little man than meets the eye.”
“How do you know of my dreams,” Jim asked, knowing the Captain would have the same question. He had been watching the orcs and the men with the princess, to see if any wore the red cap with white plume that the coyote wanted returned to his woodland shrine. Tokio wore a red cap, but his was spotted white rather than beplumed.
“Dreams are often seeds planted by the gods. I know Coyote as well as I know Old Bluey, and neither are to be trusted, but Coyote at least will honor his deal with you. Of course, you’ll never find Tokio or the princesses, if Old Bluey spots you here on the lake.”
“What is an Old Bluey? Tell me.” Jim challenged.
“Hunger.”
“We’re miles from the nearest shore,” Jim pointed out. “There is nowhere to hide. You offer no warning, but a death sentence.”
The thing dipped its head, pointing to the falls. “I am friend to all the good people of this island. Do not harm the men who call this place home, and I shall protect both you and the princesses when I can. Hurry now, the falls won’t save you once Old Bluey’s keen eyes spot you.”
The thing flapped it’s great feathery wings twice and with that, disappeared up into the sky. Looking back, Jim could sense an evil menace in the great approaching beast, which had grown in size as it closed the distance. He could now make out the bluish hue that must have inspired it’s name, and somehow a burning hunger within. Something like the sense one gets when watching hawk circle for prey, but magnified a hundred-fold.
Setting the bow toward the falls, he ordered the men to pull and pull hard. The boat entered the spray of water, then plunged deeper, and just when all expected the bow to shatter on the rocks behind, it passed the downfall and a dozen soaking wet men entered the pale blue dimness of a low cavern. A dozen yards away the boat nestled gently onto a sandy strand just a few strides wide, and beyond it the low, damp walls of a secret cavern. The black maw of a narrow crevice loomed large in the gloom, and the men made the boat fast and waited for nightfall.
Jim ducked a few steps into the narrow passage, which curved down and away and opened up as id did. From far, far off in the distance, he could make out the faint ring of metal on metal. Through some trick of sound, the cave must connect somehow to the source of the noise that so intrigued him. He could go no further, not without some supplies and a source of light. The men had only enough rations for tomorrow and a day after, which precluded a serious delving of the realms below the island. But he vowed, with the good Captain’s permission of course (tugs on forelock), to return and follow the sound.
That decision he left for wider heads than his.
The journey back was uneventful. In the morning, they passed out of the cave, over the lake, and back down the river without issue or encounter.