Great Chief

by Lindsay Buroker

  “You know I came along to keep you from doing exactly what you’re contemplating, I presume,” Dak said.

  “Tricking your people, yes. You said as much.”

  “I didn’t know that people were sick and dying at the time. If you and Tynlee find a cure and heal everyone here—” Dak stretched an arm to take in the base camp and the camp in the mountains, “—I’ll help you negotiate with Rias. I think you could finagle a deal where Turgonia and Nuria share the continent, especially if you were willing to give my people the mineral rights.”

  Yanko frowned. Even if it wasn’t his passion, he knew his people would want the ore as much as the Turgonians.

  “You care about the land and raising crops, right?” Dak asked.

  “That’s what I care about, yes. But if I were to return to Nuria and announce that tremendous amounts of gold and iron ore were in the mountains here, it would do a lot more to sway my people to want to claim this land. And hopefully realize they should stop fighting amongst themselves to do so.”

  Dak’s lips thinned.

  “But look, you don’t have to barter with me for people’s lives,” Yanko said. “We’ll find a cure—if we don’t, you and I and Tynlee and Lakeo and Jhali are all in trouble too—and share it.”

  “If the plants are the reason people are getting sick, I need to convince the general to move the camp, to get away from the lake—from all pools of any kind. At which point, he’s going to figure out it’s not a plague, that it’s something in the water.”

  And Yanko’s ruse would be up then. “Maybe. But mining definitely won’t be healthy for your people as long as the plants are there.”

  “I assume they can be destroyed with some poison or another if they can’t be dug up and burned.”

  “Burning them may release all the toxins at once, if it’s something stored in their cells.”

  Dak squinted at him, as if wondering if Yanko was lying to him. Maybe Yanko had finally found an area in which Dak had little knowledge. Unless he’d read Kyattese technical manuals with cursory mentions of the topic.

  “I really don’t know if that would be the case or not,” Yanko said, “but the fact that they’re putting out some substance that’s so potent it can make its way up through the water and affect the air around it in such a deadly manner… I don’t think we even want to pull them out of the lakes.”

  “If we leave them there, nobody gets to use the continent.”

  Yanko remembered how the ones in the lake exposed to sunlight had been weakened, maybe even dying, especially in comparison to the plants in the cave. It was possible that time would solve their problem, that the plants would eventually die in most places. They might not even be all over the continent. Maybe they were only in isolated pools around these mountains where vents had existed on the ocean floor.

  “Not near the lakes, anyway,” Yanko said.

  “Which are all around down here and in the mountains.”

  Yanko raised his eyebrows.

  “The general showed me a map of the area they’ve explored.”

  “All right,” Yanko said slowly, “here’s the deal I propose. We all work together on finding a cure and keeping everybody alive. I will then go off on my own and attempt to use my magic to remove or destroy—” he grimaced at the idea of wantonly destroying life, even the life of poisonous plants, “—the toxic vegetation while you convince the general to stop mining, break camp, and return to Turgonia until such time as Prince Zirabo or myself has had a chance to negotiate in person with your president over it.”

  “Yourself?” Damn Dak, his lip quirked in amusement.

  Yanko drew himself up to his full height, which was still substantially below Dak’s height. “Only if Zirabo is busy with the fighting and isn’t available. And if he gives me permission to speak on his behalf. If he has a more experienced diplomat in mind—oh!” Yanko brightened as an idea struck him. “Tynlee could do it.”

  “You and she together, perhaps, since you’re the one with the vision for this land. Does that mean you’ll travel straight to Turgonia from here?”

  Dak sounded like he approved of the idea, which made Yanko wonder if he should be wary. As long as he was heading to the Turgonian capital to talk to their president, he wouldn’t be able to go back to Nuria and tell Zirabo all about the presence of the soldiers—and copious amounts of ore. He also wouldn’t be there to help Zirabo with the fighting.

  “I’d have to ask Zirabo’s permission first,” Yanko said. And tell him everything that had happened. “The communications orb on the yacht may allow me to get in touch with him from here. Then he can advise me on what to do.”

  Maybe Zirabo would point out that the plant was a blessing, in a way, and that if they simply walked away and did nothing, the Turgonians might leave of their own accord, deciding that dealing with it wasn’t worth having so many men die. But they had so much technology, Yanko could envision them coming back with giant steam-powered pumps to empty the lakes. They might risk some of their people’s lives in order to complete a mission for the greater good of their nation.

  “My word, Yanko,” Dak said quietly. “If you help the general here, let him know what we’re dealing with, and keep more people from dying, I’ll do my best to help you get at least part of the continent for Nuria. Without a war.”

  “Warring together for this continent might be the only thing that can stop my people from warring with each other.”

  “I trust you don’t want to start a years-long conflict between our two peoples just to solve your problems at home.”

  Yanko sighed. “No. I accept your offer if you accept mine. Whether or not I can deal with the plant, your people need to break camp and stay away from the lakes.”

  “I’ll give your terms to Aldercrest.”

  Yanko nodded. “I’ll go back up to the lake in the mountains since that one is more isolated and see if I can figure things out with the plant.”

  “Thank you, Yanko.” Dak rested a hand on his shoulder before walking away.

  Yanko looked at the mountaintops and the sun shining down on them through the clouds, again wondering if he would have been better off leaving the Turgonians to deal with their own problem. He trusted Dak not to betray him, but Dak wasn’t representative of all his people.

  10

  Yanko’s legs were tired by the time he made his second trek up to the mountain camp. Jhali walked at his side, watching their surroundings for enemies, as always, and did not complain, so he didn’t complain either. One couldn’t appear wimpy in front of a woman.

  Once again, the soldiers came out to greet him with their demands that he halt and identify his reason for returning. Yanko handed them a note from the general. Yanko had expected the general to fight him about leaving the camp, but he’d been coughing and almost eager to say yes to everything. Yanko had a feeling he would have ordered everyone to return to the bay, if not to Turgonia, already if he hadn’t feared exposing the crews to some plague. He’d been delighted to hear a plant was responsible, since that was less inimical than a virus. Yanko feared Aldercrest might want to come back and deal with it once his men recovered.

  If they recovered. Yanko had left Tynlee studying the medical books. She hadn’t been certain that simply leaving the area would be enough, especially for those who’d been here longer and received larger doses.

  The soldiers in the mining camp did not question the authenticity of the note, nor did they object to its instructions. They rushed to break down the tents and pack their gear. By the time Yanko and Jhali made it to the cave opening, the soldiers were striding down the mountain.

  Yanko noted a couple of boxes of blasting sticks left behind. He hoped that represented forgetfulness and not the soldiers’ belief that they would soon return.

  Jhali coughed a few times, and Yanko gave her a concerned look. She was always so silent, moving about in such a way that she wouldn’t give away her location to enemies, that the noise was particularly jarrin
g coming from her.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “Of course,” he murmured.

  Tynlee? Yanko reached out telepathically as they stepped into the entrance of the large cave. Any new thoughts on the toxins?

  I have been reading about treatments for removing organic toxins from the body, which would be what we’re dealing with.

  Yanko created a globe of light to guide them as they walked deeper into the cave. Anything promising?

  The toxins tend to be too microscopic and too numerous for even a gifted healer to individually destroy them. The Kyattese have a drug that you ingest that binds bile salts and bio toxins in the small intestine, keeping the toxins from being reabsorbed. They’re then dumped out in the stool.

  Yanko grimaced at the talk of stools. And what, by the ferret god, were bile salts?

  So we’d need to sail to Kyatt for treatment? Or is this something that would be found in a medical kit?

  I’m not sure. I gave General Aldercrest the name and a list of compounds in the drug to send to his scientists on the research vessels. It’s possible they have the ability and raw materials to create it, but the Turgonians aren’t known for their medical expertise. I’d much rather have a professional Kyattese healer treating me.

  Yanko remembered that the Turgonians called their doctors “sawbones.” Yes.

  Regardless, the drug wouldn’t be an instant fix. We would likely have to take the drug for weeks or months. All of us, whether we’re showing symptoms now or not. This is something that could linger in the body and have long-acting health repercussions.

  Understood.

  I am reading about something else that might help that we could implement sooner. Activated charcoal. It’s often used when people ingest poison, because it’s highly adsorbent and has millions of microscopic pores that attract, bind, and help the body remove undesirable materials. Nobody ingested the lake water, as far as I know, but I may be able to tinker with the molecules so that they’ll pass into the bloodstream where they may encounter the toxins lurking there.

  Yanko imagined the little bricks of charcoal he’d seen the soldiers using for their funeral pyre. Were they activated?

  No, those are likely filled with flammable chemicals. We need something that would be harmless for people to ingest. It’s possible you could make some activated charcoal out of the raw ingredients here. Coconut shells are typically used, but there is all manner of edible seaweed lying around out here. In theory, any vegetable matter should be useable.

  You’ll have to—

  Coach you through it when you get back. Yes, of course. Fortunately, there are instructions in the medical text, for practitioners.

  Kyattese practitioners.

  It’s dealing with plants, so it’s like earth magic. You’ll be fine.

  It sounded like it was dealing with torching plants, but Yanko didn’t object further. He and Jhali had reached the opening with the numerous passages branching off from it. Someone had removed the soldier’s body. Yanko was glad.

  “This should be far enough,” Yanko said and settled down cross-legged next to a wall.

  “Do you know what you’re going to do?” Jhali asked. “Or are you going to meditate on it first?”

  “I have some ideas. I’ll let you know when you need to stay close to me so I can make a bubble around us. I’m not sure yet if I’m going to burn the plants or try to remove them. Either way, we’ll need the air around us to stay clean.”

  She stepped close to him, though she didn’t sit down. She drew a dagger and faced the exit, prepared for trouble.

  Yanko doubted trouble wanted to be anywhere near this place, but he smiled to himself, glad to have someone watching over him. Lakeo had objected to them going off without her until he’d said where they were going. Then she’d decided Yanko was in good hands. He was sure she would be in the first group heading back to the bay.

  Yanko knew it would take him some time to work, so he first swept out with his senses to search for signs of soldiers or other people in the area. To his surprise, he glimpsed men on the other side of the mountain. Turgonians? It was hard to tell from several miles away, but he guessed they were men from an outlying camp that Aldercrest had called back.

  But how could the general have gotten word to them that quickly?

  Tynlee? Yanko called out telepathically again.

  Yes?

  There are some men on the far side of the mountain. Will you check to make sure they’re the general’s people and are supposed to be there?

  I will check.

  Thank you.

  “Here goes,” Yanko murmured, closing his eyes and stretching his senses down the tunnel and toward the underground lake.

  Maybe he’d sounded daunted for Jhali quietly said, “You can do it.”

  This time, he let himself more thoroughly examine the vegetation growing around the vent. It was healthy and vibrant in there with absolutely no sunlight reaching it.

  He considered the rock and nutrient-rich silt that gave the plant its foundation. The entire patch was about twenty yards wide and long, stretching out from that vent. He could destroy the plant and then perhaps collapse the cave to lock in any toxic gas caused by its death.

  But that probably wouldn’t be an option at the other lake where there was no stone ceiling to collapse.

  Did it matter out there? If the sunlight eventually killed the plants? Maybe he just needed to tell his people that they should wait a year before exploring here. But would the Turgonians abide by that?

  Yanko wondered if he could move the plants. Back out to the deep sea where they belonged and where the water pressure presumably kept their toxins from going far.

  “They would need a vent,” he mused.

  Jhali glanced at him but didn’t say anything.

  Not certain his senses would reach far enough, Yanko let his mind soar out over the mountains and to the coastline and beyond. He was vaguely aware of the ships and the bay at the periphery of his mental vision, but he ignored them and dove down, deeper and deeper. The mountain range continued out under the surface, stretching farther to the north. At the far edge of his range, he detected a couple of vents. One of them already had some of the plants around it. That ought to mean the climate and conditions were amenable for the species.

  But could he levitate something that far? A few months ago, he hadn’t even been able to lift himself.

  Maybe if he walked along with the plants, at least part of the way…

  “I’m going to try something crazy.” Yanko rose to his feet.

  “Are we in danger?”

  “Mm, probably not. Currently.”

  “Comforting.”

  As soon as Yanko returned to contemplating the rock under the plants, he realized there was no way he could move it. He couldn’t float a twenty-by-twenty yard chunk of rock through the tunnel, nor could he imagine opening a giant hole in the mountain through which he could lift it. But he’d transplanted plants in the garden before and even moved young trees from one part of the property to another. Maybe he could use similar methods here.

  As he worked, slowly loosening the roots plant by plant, he also formed an airtight barrier around himself and Jhali. He was pleased he’d gotten to the point where he could keep that up while concentrating on something else. But it was a lot of work. Sweat soon dribbled down the sides of his face.

  “I’ve never seen someone sweat so much while standing still,” Jhali murmured, no doubt wondering what he was doing.

  Yanko smiled but couldn’t spare the concentration to offer a return quip.

  After he’d loosened the plants, he levitated them into the air. Jhali gaped down the tunnel as the first of them appeared, the pink spikes alien to anything Yanko had seen before but with roots that he understood, roots similar to land vegetation. Another time, he would debate whether that was logical or fascinatingly interesting.

  “Walk,” he murmured, and they headed for the exit with pounds
and pounds of vegetation floating along behind them, dripping water from their roots.

  Yanko hoped that water wouldn’t prove toxic, that it would simply evaporate, along with the gases the plants emitted. In case it didn’t, he would warn the Turgonians not to return to this cave to mine, that it wouldn’t be safe. Just in case they didn’t intend to hold true to their agreement.

  Salty sea air licked at Yanko’s sweat-moistened cheeks, and sunlight warmed his face as they stepped out into the canyon. Jhali paused, but Yanko kept walking. The coastline was miles away. He hoped Jhali didn’t mind a stroll.

  “I’m taking them to the ocean,” he said.

  “Ah.”

  That must have been enough for her to get the gist, for she walked beside him without questioning him further. That was good because he wasn’t sure he could have spoken. Keeping his barrier up and levitating the plants at the same time was a lot of work, and his head was starting to pound. It would have been a lot less work to incinerate the vegetation. A depressing statement about existence there, that it was much easier to destroy things than to keep them alive.

  Now and then, Jhali coughed, and that distracted him. A couple of times, the barrier lapsed, and he hurried to reconstruct it. Maybe it didn’t matter. They’d already been exposed numerous times. But… if it was dose-dependent, more could make a difference. And Tynlee’s solutions had sounded dubious. A drug they would have to take for months, if they could even make it. And some charred vegetation floating around in his bloodstream. Would that truly do anything?

  Best to limit exposure.

  “I see the ocean,” Jhali said.

  Yanko had been walking with his eyes closed, his senses telling him about the dips and rises and obstacles in the terrain. He opened them to a vibrant sunset turning the water red far below.

  “I think I can guide them the rest of the way from here.” Yanko gazed toward the underwater mountains and located his chosen vent again.

  “Them? The, uh, plants?”

  “Yes.”

  He wondered if she thought he was insane for going through this much effort to transplant them. He thought about explaining how he didn’t like destroying things and also that he felt responsible—and guilty—for all the underwater vegetation and animals that had died when the lodestone activated and raised the continent. Even though he hoped that animals and lush surface vegetation would one day cover the land again, it didn’t make him feel like less of a murderer of those dead whales dotting the terrain.