Читать книгу Sharmuziks: Beyond the Great Glad - Tim Brick - Страница 2

That evening, like every other evening, Nolton made himself a cup of tea with a side of strawberry jam, sat down in his favourite armchair and picked the book that was on the table next to him. But after glancing at it, he remembered that he had already read it the evening before. The Sharmuzik got up and walked to a shelf. He placed the book there, and began looking for another one, one that he had not yet read. Having checked all the shelves, several boxes, the cabinet and even under his bed, the Sharmuzik could not find a single new book for his evening read. Returning to the living room, he saw the cup of tea he had brewed for himself with steam rising from it. Scratching his head, he walked up to the window, pondering where he would be able to find a new book before the tea completely cooled down. On the other bank, beyond the river, which divided the city into two parts, one could see from Nolton’s house the building housing the library. Nolton noticed that the lights were still on in its windows and it immediately dawned on him. He ran out into the street, throwing on his coat and scarf in haste. He dashed across the bridge and, once outside the library, he pulled its rather large and heavy door. As he walked into the building, Nolton immediately headed towards the nearest shelf and started to look for a new book. Thus, the city library had by far more books than one could find at home. But Nolton liked certain types of books, about adventures and expeditions. Moving through several shelves, he came to the one in the furthermost corner. Finally, the Sharmuzik found what he had come for. The whole shelf had adventure books. Nolton decided not to waste time and picked the one closest to him. He was about to go back home but he suddenly stopped. His attention was drawn to a notebook that was just behind the book he had picked. Taking out the notebook, Nolton examined it up close. The notebook was bound in brown leather and closed with a silver buckle that had the initials KF inscribed. On its first page, the Sharmuzik saw a neatly hand-written epigraph: “My diary, or chronicles of a faraway journey”. Flipping to the next page, Nolton saw the map of the Great Glade tucked inside the notebook. The Sharmuzik unfolded it fully. He was genuinely taken aback by the image he saw on the map. This turned an ordinary evening into the beginning of a new story. Leaving the book for which he had left his tea, the Sharmuzik quickly put the map back inside the notebook and ran back to his house with it in his hand.

Once at home, Nolton sat down at his desk right away and directed his lamp so that it fully illuminated the map. This was a map larger than any the Sharmuzik had seen before. Its paper had yellowed of old age. The mysterious things that were depicted on it gave rise to many interesting questions. Certain inscriptions that could have at least provided some answers could not be made out. As if it was not enough that the map was in poor shape, a large portion of it was torn out. The only thing that could be made out was several houses with an inscription above them: Shmur. A dotted line ran from the city’s name to a completely different city. To better examine the inscription, Nolton took out a special device, similar to a stick with magnifying glasses of different sizes attached to it. This allowed him to make out the almost illegible inscription above the city: T u l u n.

***

A light breeze drifted through the half-open window, occasionally flipping the pages in the open notebook. The warm rays of the morning sun enveloped Nolton who was sound asleep, sitting at the desk. And so, the hands of the small clock on the stool pointed to nine o’clock. There was half a sun on the clock dial instead of numbers. It started to ring loudly and persistently, and immediately woke Nolton, who, having been carried away by reading the diary, had fallen asleep at his desk. The sleepy Sharmuzik reached for the clock, trying to turn it off. But he could not reach it and fell to the floor along with the chair. The ringing clock was joined in by another ring, this time at the door, announcing the arrival of visitors. Without waiting for the master of the house, the visitors politely knocked on the door, opened it themselves and came inside. There was clapping and celebratory whistles. There were Lumi, Renchi and Archi at the door with wooden boxes of different shapes with colourful ribbons, while Barti was holding a birthday cake, which also boasted a red ribbon made of icing.

“Where’s Nolton? Did we get the day wrong?” asked Barti, not seeing the master of the house.

Nolton got up and looked at his friends. At the same moment, he remembered one very important thing: today was his birthday.

Actually, the Sharmuziks did not have a calendar. And, at first glance, it was difficult, even impossible, to understand when exactly a birthday should be celebrated. But in reality, things were much simpler for the residents of Shmur. They simply agreed among themselves on when the birthday of one of their friends should be celebrated. The main thing was that it should happen in the season – say summer or winter – during which the Sharmuzik in question was born. Moreover, they had a special tradition. Sharmuziks never bought presents for birthdays; they made them themselves. Thus, those who had friends who made valuable jewellery were most lucky.

Usually Nolton would lay a festive table and would have a great time with his friends. But this time was different from all the other times. Having asked his friends over to a table on which instead of food lay a map and a notebook, Nolton recounted the events of the evening before. While Lumi and Renchi listened attentively, and Archi jotted down something in his notebook, Barti decided to feast by himself on the cake that he himself had baked.

“And then, when I started reading this diary, in addition to the map, I found strange drawings,” said Nolton and turned over a few pages of the diary – on one there was a hand-drawn figure of sorts… the image of a creature.

“Lumi, look! The figure in the drawing is just like the one we found used as a bookmark in one of the books, “Renchi said’. “By the way, if I’m not mistaken, that drawing is still in my pocket,” continued Renchi, taking out of his right pocket a half-torn drawing of a lamp on legs.

“And now bring it up to here,” said Nolton, turning the page and pointing to the place with the remains of a torn page. The Sharmuziks placed the drawing in the right place in the diary and realized that these parts completed each other.

“Incredible. But whose diary is this? And why are you so sure that this map is real?” asked Archi, even putting his notebook aside in surprise.

“Unfortunately, I do not know whose it is, and I can’t be sure of the authenticity of this map. I’ve never been beyond the Great Glade, just as you.”

“That’s a shame that we’ll never know what’s there in reality. In order to do that, we’ll have to leave the city and embark on a long journey. To unknown lands, where unknown creatures live,” Archi said musingly.

Following these words Lumi, Renchi and Nolton exchanged glances and then looked at Barti, who was calmly carrying the last piece of cake to his mouth. Noticing the gaze of his friends, Barti froze with the spoon in his hand.

“What? That is… You seriously want to go to…”

“Yes, indeed! We’ll go on a journey and see for ourselves what lies beyond the Great Glade. Good idea, Barti!” said Nolton.

“No, I’m not…”

“Well then… in that case, we’ll have to go to the workshop to prepare everything we need for the road,” said Lumi rising from the table and heading with Renchi towards the front door.

“Hold on, what about…”

“I’ll go back to the office and grab reams of blank paper, after all we’re bound to come across many interesting things along the way,” said Archi and headed towards the front door too.

“But what I wanted to say is…”

“Yes, definitely, Barti, we’ll certainly need food supplies for the road, take as many cans of nuts and drinking water as possible,” Nolton said leading him to the exit. “I’ll be expecting you after lunch!” he said to his friends and closed the door after them, right in front of Barti’s nose, who remained standing there in front of the house looking perplexed.

As if under a spell, Barti stared at the shut door. A terrible picture emerged in his head: an unknown, dreadful dark forest where his friends were heading. And who knew what dangers lay in wait for them in the dark, around every corner? At that moment, there was one thing Barti was sure of: if his friends really embarked on this trip, he would not go along with them for anything in the world. Thus, if one was to find the most easily frightened Sharmuzik among all the inhabitants of Shmur, who was afraid of his own shadow, then without a doubt, it would be Barti, hands down.