Chapter Twenty-four. This one was a little long too. i had completely forgotten i had a character named max in this story too. (visit the cyberchase fanficts to get what i'm talking about)

I don't own Neopets. Tamara and all them are mine.

Near-Death Experience . . . And a Stranger
Chapter Twenty-Four

Morrowville turned out to be a merchenting village separated from the rest of the world by sea on the east and west, a mountain to the north, and desert from the south. People came here to buy and sell exotic goods. But, it was also a temporary living area.

I ducked under fish that flew overhead as we walked under canopies and past stands. I ignored offers thrown at me (even if Dilasca did not). Then, I turned to the neopets that followed me.
"Talk to any neos you find." I said. "See if they know anything or if they know anyone who would know anything."

They answered in their own, unique way and took off. I took Bluehopper from my shoulders and cradled her in my amrs while I looked around.

Arco's questions led us to a lean-to tent. The man inside was old and grizzled. His eye (the other was patched over) was a strange, sea-blue and seemed to stare into my soul. He stared at me over the glowing end of his pipe. He was seated in a wheelchair; both legs mere stumps where his knees should be.

He smiled and spoke in the thick accent of a veteran sea-farer. "Well, well, well! What brings a pretty girl like you to an old sea-dog's lair?"

"Information." I said, taking up seat on an upturned barrel. "I'm looking for someone."
"Hmm. That's interesting."

"Why?"
"Because people are always looking for something . . . or someone. You're not alone." He sucked on his pipe until the embers glowed and illuminated his face. "But, you seem to be looking for someone in particular."

"Yes."
"Who?"
I hesitated. "I don't see why that's your business."

"Then I can't help you." He said.

I knew I had hit a dead end. I sighed and ducked my head. "I'm looking for my father."
He chuckled. "Now we're getting somewhere." He wheeled himself forward and cupped my chin with a calloused and scarred hand. It scratched my wind-beaten and sunburnt skin; causing it to tingle and itch. "Tell me about him."

"Look, I didn't come here to toss banter with a battered longshoreman, Mr . . .?"

"Max." He said. "And, you're right about me being a longshoreman. I was . . . until a flying, razor net cut off my legs." He rolled back the hem of his shortened trousers to reveal badly healed scars. Raw, red skin streaked with a webbing of white, knotted scars.

I felt nausceous. My stomach knotting and clenching. I could only imagine how much pain he had to endure. How much blood he had lost as he lay on the deck of his ship with sea-water sloshing over the edges; drenching I could almost see him writhing in blood and water; screaming as salt water leaked into the lacerations.

My imagination was almost as graphic as it was accurate. I've seen enough injuries to know what physical torment looks like.

He dropped his trouser legs back into place and smiled. I must've looked mortified. "I'm sorry for prying. I don't get many visitors."

"I'm sorry, Sir Max." I said.

He laughed; a deep-throated laugh that caused goosebumps to dance on my arms. "It's just Max." He dumped ash from the bowl of his pipe and stowed it into his cloak pocket. "What's he look like, your father?"

I tried to describe him from memory of the protrait on the dresser. But, what with it being nine years old, my description probably wasn't as accurate as I would've liked it to be.

Max fingered his unshaven jaw; his single eye sentered on me. I waited (patiently impatient) for a response.

"I did see such a man a few weeks ago." Max said.

My heart fluttered, excitedly, in my chest. "You did?" I stood up abruptly and my neos (even Arco) rose, too. "When?"

"As I said, a few weeks ago." Max chuckled, apparently deeply amused by my astonished expression. "He came in asking for directions to the First Mount Eyre."

"Did you see him leave?"

"No. Far as anyone can tell, he never left the mountain." His single eye still focused on my face. "You see, little one, once you go up that mountain . . . you ain't comin' back down."

A piece of rebellion (that I thought had been knocked out of me after a year at the Academy) woke up in me. I tugged on the shoulder straps of my pack; listening to my mess kit rattle behind me. My chin came up defensively. "I'm going up there. And I will come back."

Max shook his head. He gently took me by the wrist and held me in place. "I wouldn't suggest it, missy." He said. "You're so young and you're . . ." He caught sight of the green vest under the cloak. "A Trainer-in-training. Surely you're not qualified enough to go this far?"

"I've never felt more qualified in my life." I said, pulling my hand from his grip. "I may not wear the red vest of a full-Trainer, but I've seen and done things most thirteen-year-old's don't see or do."
We stared at each other a moment. His blue-green eye met brown ones. Then, flickered back to my neos. "Which one's your's?" he asked.

"The Blumaroo, Lupe, and Ixi. I'm training the Grundo for someone else." I answered.

"The Blumaroo won't be much use up there." Max said the very words Fangore had spoken to me last night. "Do you want me to watch her?"

"No." I said. "I promised I'd take care of her. She thinks i"m her mother. She goes where I go."
Max was quiet. Then, he rolled himself to the tent flap and pointed out. "Since you're so intent to go, I'm not your father so I can't stop you."

"You'll let me go?" I was astonished. I was expecting to have to stubbornly argue with him. But, he was seriously willing to let me go my own way. I could out-stubborn anyone (except Mam that is). Whether he guessed that arguing with me was useless or not, it still surprised me about his accepting reluctance to let me go.

"I don't see that I have a choice." Max said, he sounded sad. "The man that came here was just as stubborn. I can see where you get it from." His smile was contagious but sad.

I stepped outside but stayed under the canopy. From where I stood, I could see mountain; huge, foreboding. A fearsome inhabited by the creatures I now feared since that day.

Maya would want you to face your fears! My conscience whispered.

Shut up! And don't say her name! I cried and my conscience did shut up.

"How far is the mountain from here?" I asked.

"It would be faster by wagon." Max answered. "I'll see if any merches are willing to take you there."
"Thank you." I said. I felt indebted to him now. But, one thing confused me. "Max, why are you helping me?"

He stared at me. "Because you remind me of my little girl. She would be eight this year." He gave a shaky sigh. "She died from a childhood disease when she was too. My wife . . . killed herself in her grief."

I could sympathized with him. "I lost someone I loved, too." I said.

"Who?"
"My sister." I almost said "friend" but thought that too inadequate. After all, she had been more than a friend to me.

Max nodded. Then, he brushed a tear from his craggy face and squeezed my elbow. He pointed down the dusty trail. "There's a hostel not far from here. Just tell that hostess that Shoreman Max sent you. I'll pay for everything."

I hated having people pay for me. At school I had often helped her with her campus, cleaning job; refusing repayment (though, that seldom worked because she would slip money into my wallet and run off). There was always a feeling of guilt involved. Guilt, embarrasssment, and uselessness.

"Thanks for the offer but . . . I can take care of the bill." I jangled the money bag on my belt.

Max shook his head. "It won't be a problem at all, dear one. Don't worry about it."

Again with persistence? I decided it was best to go along with it.

The hostel was very well built, but it didn't look like much. Just a shack-looking thing with a cobbled path, wicker archway, and lovely plants.

The hostess was friendly and wrote on the bill that it was to go to Max. They provided us a cot and beds for the neos. I showered, changed into warm clothes, and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

We slept through supper and straight through into dawn. The warmth of the fun warmed my face and I awoke refreshed and well-rested.

Breakfast was a bountiful meal. We ate quickly, then armored both myself and the neos. As promised, a merch was waiting for us. He was a shifty-looking man as well as nervous. Obviously the stories about the mountain were scary supersititions meant to keep merches and kids away. He took us to the mountain without question.

He left us off at the base and I flipped him two silver dollars for his troubles. I had asked that he stick around (he would get another two if he did) but he refused.

"Too many people have died at these foothills for our supersititions not to be true. If you were wise, you would not linger or tarry here as we do not. Bad things happen here."

I would've been more than happy to turn around and go back home. Codax had said I was foolish. Maybe I was. But

I really had to know why he left. I was on a mission. One I had to complete.

"Please." The merch pleaded. "Come away with me."

I shook my head. "I can't. There's something I have to do."

"Then, I shall send someone for you." The merch wheeled his Tonus away and took off; his wagon bouncing over rough terrain.

I quickly pieced together the grappling gear. Acro was set into a carrier that hooked over my shoulders at the front while Bluehopper hung from a backpack on my back. Fangore and Dilasca I placed in a rescue cage and hitched it to my belt. When I had climbed a few feat up, I lifted the cage. I repeated this until we reached the top.

After releasing the neopets from their bonds and placing Bluehopper in a place of safety in some shrubbery, I took stock of our surroundings.

Just then, movement caught my attention. A big tail caught me in the stomach (it was just as heavy as I imagined it to be) and I was flung back toward the pile of brush; right where Bluehopper was hiding.

I never gave much thought to how I would die. But, if it was for someone I loved, cared for, or—possibly admired— . . . seemed easy enough. I wasn't selfish. Mostly. Especially if it was the creatures I knew and loved. And, even raised.
Bluehopper curled up close to my chest and I curled my arm protectively around her blue, furry body. I held her close and whispered into her flopping ears comforting words. I knew she could understand me as many of her kin could. Bluehopper and I have a special connection; one that had been developed for sometime since my cousin and I found her in her nest; cold, hungry, and alone—her mother was dead; her remains close to the nest.

"Mistress. We have to move now." Fangore told me. I looked up into his red, lupine face and I saw a look of concern radiating in his cool, yellow eyes. I knew he was just worried about me.

"Where's Arco and Dilasca?" I asked him.

Fangore looked back over his shoulder at the two other creatures I had cared for since they came to me. Dilasca was cradled in Arco's arms; a black contusion visible on her yellow fur. Her purple eyes were closed. I nearly cried. Dilasca had been abandoned by her own master and I had taken it upon myself to care for her and raise her like she was my own. I cursed the fact that some humans could feel little to no compassion for the little creatures of this world.
I got up and swung Bluehopper onto my back. She clung to my shoulders and her sharp claws dug into the fabric of my thick, red vest and her long, blue tail wrapped itself around my waist for stability. I approached Arco and took Dilasca from her. The little Ixi was still breathing; her little stomach was heaving.

"What happened, Arco?" I asked, though I knew it was a stupid question to ask for one of two reasons. One, the Grundo couldn't speak because of his dim-witted intelligence. And two, because I knew what had happened. But, I was blinded by the hot tears that were threatening to show. I had to be strong. Arco was learning strength from me and Bluehopper was still too young to understand why a strong human like me would actually cry over the half-dead corpse of an Ixy.

Suddenly, Arco's strong, three-fingered hand closed around my ankle. His glassy, blue eyes wide with fear. A fear I knew well. He pointed up at the sky indicating that danger was near.

"Mistress! Look!" Fangore barked.

I followed both of their gazes and my eyes widened in the same fear that both Fangore and Arco felt.

"RUN!" I screamed.

Fangore snatched Arco up in his teeth and tossed him onto his back. He clung to his thick, red fur tightly as he ran beside me.

"Mistress! Look out!" Fangore howled after me as I slipped onto a rock and feel onto my knees; nearly crushing Dilasca with my body.

I twisted to my side and looked up. The dark, malicious shape of the opposing Eyrie descending upon me.

They say that when you're about to die, you're whole life flashes before your eyes.

At first, I used to let that roll off my back and act like it never happened. Now, I see what the elders meant by it.

However, there was part of an untruth to that saying. I didn't just see my life. I saw the lives of my pets. Everything they had shared with me when we communed. Everyone, but Arco's who was not really my pet.

In my daze, I saw the Eyrie strike at the ground close to where I lay. I rolled away just as Fangore attacked. Arco shrieked out his own challenge as the two of them fought to protect me.

Then, he grabbed me. Wrapped in a cloak with a camouflage pattern woven into the woven fabric. He seized me by the shoulders and dragged me up.

"Come on! While the Lupe and Grundo distract them." He led me toward the cave, glanced furtively around, then lowered his hood. He was almost like I remembered. Only, older and more scarred with salt and pepper hair.

I smiled, meekly and dazedly. "Where have you been all my life?" I asked before darkness leaked over my vision.