One of the monks quietly made his way into the room with food that had been packed in dried palm fronds. He approached Lhandon, who took off the bag he’d been given, the monk placing the food inside. From there, the monk slipped his hand into the pocket at the front of his robes and retrieved several promissory notes.
“That should be plenty of money to get you to Zol and set you up right once you get there. I suspect you will search for your reincarnated master, yes?”
Lhandon nodded. “Among other things.”
“And I’m assuming that at some point in the future, you will be back in Ganbold to challenge your old friend?” Sukhbat asked.
I bit my lip as I looked at the large monk. “Likely.”
“Then I wish you the best of luck. Unfortunately, you won’t be able to return to our temple when you come back to the city as it would put the monks here in danger. But please know that you do have our support, and while we don’t have a way of helping you aside from providing you safe passage away from Ganbold, there will be things that we may be able to help you with in the future.”
“Thank you,” I said as Lhandon’s backpack was sealed up.
“We should be going,” Lhandon said as he got to his feet and bowed again at Precious Heart Gem. Saruul and I did the same, Roger also bowing graciously, one of his turquoise wings swept before him.
With Lhandon in the lead, we took a long stairwell down, reaching a dark passageway that smelled of wet stone. I was about to go for my Flaming Thunderbolt when Lhandon’s hand illuminated, revealing a fork in our path, just as Sukhbat had told us.
Lhandon turned to me. “We can still escape,” he said under his breath.
“No, Roger and Saruul are right. We have to fight back, but not just yet. I need some time to think this through.”
“We are definitely trapped down here now,” Roger said as we heard the sound of stone scraping against the wooden floor above us. The entrance to the secret passage was sealed off, Lhandon’s illuminated hand now casting shadows onto the stone wall.
“What’s that?” Lhandon asked.
“He says we are trapped down here.”
“No, we aren’t,” Lhandon said with a grin as he turned to the left passage. “Darkness always before the light. Remember that, Roger. Have faith. You too, Nick. We will make it through this.”
We came out through a waterfall, where we were instantly swarmed by a cloud of gnats. It was warm out, humid too.
“Ugh,” Saruul said, waving her hand in front of her face.
I noticed a bright yellow crocodile slip into the water and I grabbed her arm, dragging the lioness to the shore.
Lhandon had already made it there, Roger in the air.
“I’ve got him,” he said, bravely swooping down on the crocodile, and flapping his wings against the water. The crocodile came up to snap Roger out of the air, but the tropical bird was too fast, zipping out of the way and doubling back around to squawk at the predator.
“That was close,” he said as he touched down on my shoulder. I drew my Flaming Thunderbolt of Wisdom, waiting to see if the crocodile would come out of the water. It didn’t, and once I was sure that we were fine to move on, I slipped my weapon back in its scabbard.
“Follow the trees that are painted blue,” Lhandon said, taking the lead.
“We may have to transition to the jungle later,” I said, figuring it would be a better way to avoid any of Hugo’s patrols.
“Nonsense,” Lhandon told me. “I have a rune that will help us if we come to a rest stop, and certainly when we reach Zol.”
“I can’t believe your friend has called for your death,” Saruul said as we came to the next tree, its trunk partially painted blue. I saw movement in the canopy above and I looked up to see a sloth with white fur, its bulbous eyes watching us move past.
“He was possessed,” Roger said suddenly. “And what did I tell you about looking at sloths? Did I ever say anything about those lazy fuckers? Anyway, I know we have spoken about Hugo being possessed before, but it was clear to me in there. You saw his eyes, right?”
I nodded. “And the snake’s eyes on the crown he was wearing. Perhaps it has something to do with that.”
“You think he was possessed?” Lhandon asks, picking up context clues.
“It’s just not him,” I said. “I know that we have seen things here that are unimaginable, but this isn’t who Hugo is. Something else is at play. Maybe it’s one of the relics, or a demon. I don’t know. But I’m going to do something about it.”
“We will do something about it,” Saruul said. “I’m not letting you go back there alone.”
Lhandon laughed. “You really do have a good support network around you, you know that, right?”
“I’m aware,” I said, unable to fight the smile forming on my face.
I was over the shock I had experienced earlier in seeing Hugo; I knew what needed to be done now, and it was only a matter of time before I returned to the capital city to do it.
As we walked, I thought of the future confrontation, and how I would go about handling myself. I would work under the assumption that he was possessed, and if we ended up fighting, which I was starting to feel was a certainty, I would do my best not to kill him.
“Whew,” I said under my breath as I wiped my brow with my arm; it had already been a day and it wasn’t even noon.
There had also been the revelation of my power when used in conjunction with Ra-Mu, the rune Lhandon had taught me. It was something I would have to place on the back burner, at least for a little bit. It was promising, but I needed to be able to actually set the time to which I returned.
Only then would it be useful.
“It’s times like these that I wish we had the trance-walking power,” Lhandon said, referring to a fast travel ability we had discussed back in Dornod with Jigme the lion monk. “When we return to Lhasa, we will have to take Jigme up on his offer to take us to Lion’s Peak to the hermit who is familiar with the ability. That is, if Jigme’s scouts have been successful in reaching him.”
“That would make things easier, but I don’t know how we would do it in the jungle,” I said.
“We wouldn’t have to do it in the jungle. We would do it up there,” Lhandon said, nodding up toward the canopy.
“You mean we would be jumping from tree to tree?” I asked him.
“Finally, you guys would be able to travel like me,” Roger chimed in.
“Not exactly jumping. More like flying, but in a levitational way, if that makes sense.”
“Let’s just focus on getting off this island,” Saruul said. “We still have plenty of plans as it is.”
“That we do,” Lhandon told her.
We only came across one merchant in our six-hour journey, Saruul sensing him and giving us enough time to slip into the jungle. Eventually, we neared another mom-and-pop rest stop, this one covered in vines and clearly not large enough to house more than a few people.
“I will handle this,” Lhandon said, tracing something with his finger. “Nick, I want you to think of someone that you have seen in the past day.”
“Someone that I have seen?”
“Someone, anyone. What’s the first image that comes to your mind?”
“I…”
Oddly enough, the first image that came to my mind was the guard at Hugo’s palace, the one who initially given us such a hard time. I imagined his crappy mustache, the acne on the side of his face.
“Do you have someone in mind?” he asked.
“I do,” I said.
“Good, then keep that person in mind while I trace this rune.” Lhandon moved his fingers, and as he did, Saruul gasped.
“What have you done to him?” she asked, pushing the monk aside as she came to me. She touched my chest and took a few steps back, not processing what her eyes were seeing. “But it feels…”
“That is some crazy shit,” Roger started to say.
“The rune disguises your face for
anyone who looks at you. The face you are currently wearing is based on whatever face you were thinking of when the rune was cast,” Lhandon explained jovially. “But in actuality, you are still yourself, you are still Nick and you still look the same way. It’s an illusion.”
“Can you teach it to me?” I asked him.
“It is quite complicated,” he said, “and it involves a string of characters that you have yet to learn. Perhaps one day, but for now, I believe I will be the only one able to cast it.”
I glanced at my hands and saw that they were normal.
“Just your face,” he reminded me. “It lasts for about thirty minutes, but I can use it multiple times. I believe this rune will be helpful to us in our journey going forward.”
“It’s so bizarre,” Saruul said as she pinched my cheek. “Even his face feels like his normal face, but it looks like… Who is this person that you became?”
“I recognize him!” Roger said. “He’s one of the guards that was at the front of Hugo’s palace.”
“Bingo.”
“Bingo?” Lhandon asked.
“It means ‘Roger is right.’ Well, sort of.”
The monk nodded. “Then bingo it is! For now, Hugo doesn’t know about the rest of us, just you and the bird.”
“He knows about Saruul…”
“He does?” she asked. “You didn’t tell us that.”
“He had already received a report from the rest stop we had to escape from.”
The lioness bit her lip. “I see…”
“I don’t think we have much to worry about,” Lhandon said, “at least not yet. Once we get to Zol, we will have to be more cautious.”
“As long as someone is giving me a shoulder to rest on, I’m fine with that,” Roger said.
Saruul stepped away from me, finally comfortable with looking at my temporary face.
Lhandon rubbed his hands together. “Now come, let’s get a room for the night and eat before the rune wears off.”
The rest stop just happened to have one available room, with enough futons to sleep three people. The couple that ran it were kind but quiet, and rather than cook with us as our last hosts did, they merely set out dried fruits and fish, a buffet of sorts.
We ate and retired to our room, even though the sun hadn’t quite set. The floor had been made of clay which was cool against my bare feet. Purple drapes hung in front of a small window on the opposite side of the room, letting in just a sliver of light. Other than our futons and drapes, the room was completely bare.
“Who is interested in meditating?” Lhandon asked.
“Not me.” Roger fell to the ground, pretending he was asleep.
“Of all of us, you are the one who needs meditation the most,” Saruul said, nudging Roger with her foot.
“Can’t a bird sleep?” he asked, pretending to snore.
Lhandon laughed. “No one is forcing you to meditate, Roger.”
“So you understand what he is hinting at?” I asked the portly monk.
“I’m starting to think that he is a little sarcastic. Am I right?”
“Guilty as charged,” Roger said, raising his wing and then slapping it against the ground again.
“Well, feel free to sleep, Roger, but since we do have some daylight left, a good meditation session would be a nice way to wind down, just like we were doing on the ship,” Lhandon said. “We can follow up with prostrations if you’d like, but personally, I prefer doing them in the morning.”
“I’m with you there,” I said as I sat on the folded futon.
“I’m not tired yet, and meditation always makes me sleepy,” Saruul said, “so I think I’ll join you as well.”
“Delightful,” Lhandon said as he arranged a seat in front of us. “There’s a new meditation I would like to try out, something that I read about in one of the books at the Temple of Ocean Sky. I recall practicing a similar meditation years ago, when one of the hermits came down from the mountains. It is quite engaging.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said as I settled into my position, cupping my hands together.
We started by warming up, Lhandon instructing us to take deep breaths, to hold each breath for a moment, and let them out slowly. I started to get into the rhythm of his voice, breathe in, hold, breathe out, feeling almost hypnotized by the practice.
Once we had warmed up, Lhandon began speaking: “How do you visualize your mind? Where does your mind exist? There have been many treaties about this, with some monks arguing your mind is in your head, and others arguing it is in your heart. Still, others argue that it is omnipresent, in every part of you that exists within and without you. The reason I ask this is because I want you to visualize your own mind.”
My first instinct was to visualize my brain.
I imagined my brain in my skull, instantly questioning why I assumed that this was where my mind was located. I then tried to visualize my mind in my heart, but it didn’t seem to work the same as conceptualizing it as a brain.
I tuned back into what Lhandon was saying:
“However you see your mind, if you see it in its physical form or as a ball of light, I want you to imagine yourself stepping outside of it. Yes, imagine as if you were in your mind, and suddenly you are standing next to it, looking at it.” He took a deep breath. “I want you to notice the first thought that slips out of your mind, and rather than catch it and start analyzing it, I want you to let it go, let it fade into the background. Again, you are visualizing that you are standing next to your mind, that you are observing it. I don’t want you to think. I want you to see.”
The first thought to come out of my mind was something about Hugo, and rather than examine it, I simply let it filter away. I visualized my mind as if it were a brain, one about the size of a Volkswagen beetle, strangely enough. I stood next to it, watching another thought come out of it, this one about my ability to control time.
My thoughts resembled a flat, paper-thin LCD screen, or maybe it was more of a projection, but either way, I knew what they were, and I knew that it was time to temporarily discard them.
I was concentrating so hard at this point that I could no longer hear Lhandon speaking.
I merely watched the thoughts pour out of my own brain, happy to be away from them for once, happy to be at ease.
“It sure is interesting here,” Dema said, appearing before me, her white hair lifting and settling around her face and neck.
I sat in a small garden behind the Crompton Collective, the building an example of the urban revival currently happening in Worcester, Massachusetts. I was dreaming, that much I could tell, but this hadn’t stopped me from being overwhelmed by the beauty of the old brick building, the moss scaling up its exterior the color of evergreen and maraschino cherries.
I had already wandered through the maze-like collection of vintage and antique stores, all of which featured items of my childhood. The piece that struck me the most was a large pile of sand with a Steinway piano at the top, the keys all rotted away.
I’d even tried to play one of the black keys, the key turning to dust.
But now my focus was entirely on Dema, my dakini, the strange being from the Overworld who had been part of my journey since the start.
“Have you gone inside?” I asked her, nodding to the back entrance to the Crompton Collective. A wind picked up, twirling red and orange leaves between us.
“I have not, but I’m sure I will have plenty of time to explore,” she said, a soft smile lifting her elven ears. Dema wore silver robes tied off at the waist by a golden rope, and as she took a step closer to me, her sleeves began to grow in length.
As she reached her hand up to me, the ends of her sleeves fluttered away, swirling until her entire arm was made of thousands upon thousands of pixels of light.
“What are you doing?” I asked her, instinctively moving away from her. I placed my hand on the hilt of my Flaming Thunderbolt of Wisdom, fearing that this was the start of a nightmare.
�
��You will face many challenges in the coming days,” she told me, sadness behind her eyes. “I want to give you something that will help you, something that will give you an advantage when facing off against a demon, be it one that now calls the Middle Plane their home, or one that has come directly from the Underworld.”
“What do you mean?” I asked her as her shoulder started to filter away.
“Draw your weapon, Nick,” she said.
I did as instructed, flames licking off my blade.
“We won’t be meeting for some time,” Dema said as she placed her light-filled hand onto my blade, balls of fiery white oscillating around her wrist.
As she did so, my perspective shifted. Dema tilted her head toward it and was instantly sucked up into the weapon. White fire sparked off the blackened steel of my blade, the ivory flames lifting higher and higher until they were nearly as tall as the brick building I stood next to.
“Dema?” I asked as the flames began to lower, cosmic energy whirling around the base of my weapon.
I am here now, Nick. It is my gift to you. Enjoy the rest of your slumber.
Chapter Fifteen: Demons in the Courtyard
My initial instinct upon waking was to go for my sword. I was the first one up, and as I drew my blade I noticed a white spark move along the edge of the flames. It reached the tip of my weapon and spiraled backward, settling in with the orange and blue fire licking off the blackened steel.
“What the hell?” Roger asked, shielding his eyes.
“Nick?” Lhandon asked, coming awake at the sound of Roger’s voice. This woke Saruul, who was up in a crouching position before Lhandon could even roll over.
“Why do you have your weapon drawn?” she hissed.
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