“Bring him,” he commanded.
I stopped. They weren’t going to hurt me. At least, not right away. The guys who held me started to walk, and I was once again dragged along to an unknown destination. At least it was unknown to me. These guys knew exactly where they were going. We walked quickly through what felt like dense jungle. All I could do was go along and hope they didn’t run me face-first into a palm tree. Things were not going well. My one ally on Ibara was a thieving kid who’d just threatened to kill me, and had a bunch of friends to help him. I had to go along with whatever game he was playing. At least for a while.
Our trip ended when I was roughly pushed down into a seat. My arms were rudely pulled behind my back and tied together. These guys weren’t pros like the security drones who worked for the tribunal. They may have tied me up, but I felt as if I could break free pretty easily. Their last act was to yank off my blindfold. I squinted, and got my first look at Siry’s world.
It looked like a jungle junkyard.
We were in a clearing that had been hacked out of dense foliage. The surrounding growth was a thick wall of vines and vegetation that looked too tangled to walk through. The trees overhead formed a canopy that blocked out the sun. A quick scan showed only two paths out. Or in. There were bamboo platforms built everywhere. Some were at eye level, others on the ground. Two structures rose high up toward the canopy of trees, with several levels from the ground to the top. There were lots of makeshift ladders and bridges, tying the structure together. The whole thing was lashed together by rope and twine. It was impressive and crude.
The place was outfitted with an odd assortment of junk. Wooden and bamboo furniture was randomly scattered. Tables held dirty bowls and cups, along with the remnants of half-eaten fruit. This wasn’t a neat bunch. I saw several large, wooden chests tucked under platforms. Clothes were hanging all around, giving the place the appearance of a messy bedroom. There were books and drums, baskets and tools.
It wasn’t all a random mess. I saw a few beautiful sculptures made out of black rock. There was the head of a girl, a hand, a man’s torso. Very cool and probably very stolen.
Most everything I saw looked as if it could have come from the village. A few things didn’t. There were large chunks of sheet metal being used as roofing over some huts. High up on one of the platforms was a brass telescope on a tripod. There was a picture frame dangling from one platform. It was golden and intricate, with no picture. One thing stood out that I had no explanation for. It was a metal sign hanging between two vertical poles. It was about two feet square and looked as if one side had been eaten away, leaving only the left half. The sign had been white at one time, with faded black letters that now read:
FOURT
BR
T
RU
CI
It looked to me like a chunk of an old traffic sign. But there was no such thing as traffic on Ibara. It made the mystery of this territory grow deeper. This clearing looked like it was home to a bunch of castaways who had to make do with bits and pieces left over from their wrecked ship, while using whatever else the jungle provided to make shelter.
The people who hung out in this odd little oasis completed that image.
I counted fifteen people. They all looked to be in their midteens, the same as Siry. There were mostly boys, but a few girls were mixed in. They all had the same grungy look. Their clothes were worn, and nobody seemed to be too concerned about taking a bath. They all looked pretty healthy though. They weren’t out here in the jungle starving. Most hung out on the various levels of the bamboo structure, looking down at the new guy. Me. The group that had ambushed me stood on the ground, circling me. I looked into each of their eyes. They all had the same look as Siry. It was an odd mixture of boredom and anger. Not a good combination.
A thin girl with long, stringy, blond hair jumped at me to see if I’d flinch. I didn’t. She laughed and got right up close, nearly putting her nose on my cheek. She sniffed, then giggled. “Scared,” she said playfully. “I can smell it. Yes I can.” She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and scurried away.
A big guy walked up to me, holding out a cup of liquid. “Thirsty?” he asked.
My answer was to stare at him.
“Me too,” he said, and drank it himself. Most of it ended up spilling down his cheeks. He let out a belch and dropped the cup. The others laughed. Another little guy, who had the pointed nose and tiny eyes of a rat, skittered up and pulled the top of my shirt aside to look at my back.
“Bee stings,” he snorted. “Lots of ’em. Do they hurt?”
“No,” I said.
The little ferret slapped me on the back with his open hand, hard. “How about now!” He cackled out a laugh and scurried away. Creep.
This was a real fun bunch. Siry was beginning to seem like the normal one. I looked beyond the group that was having fun annoying me to see Siry with the blond thief who had escaped from the security goons earlier. They were looking through the sack the blond thief had gotten away with. He pulled out two small saws and a hammer. Siry patted the blond guy on the arm, as if to say, “Nice job.”
“Hey!” I shouted to Siry. “I’m hungry.”
Siry gave the tools back to blondie and walked slowly toward me. He had a cocky air about him. He was completely in charge and knew it.
“I’m sorry,” he said sarcastically. “You expect me to care?”
“No,” I said. “I expect you to give me something to eat.”
Siry snorted, as if to say, “You’re dreaming.” But he waved at the girl with stringy hair and said, “Twig, get him something.”
“Get it yourself!” the girl named Twig shot back.
Siry gave her a withering look. She backed off and left the group. It was pretty clear that Siry was the boss here. A moment later the girl came back with half a piece of fruit that looked like a pear. She held it out to me. I looked at it, then to the girl.
“Untie me,” I said.
The girl hesitated, then made a move for the chair. I think she was actually going to do it until…
“Stop,” Siry commanded. “Feed him.”
The girl shrugged and held the pear up to my mouth. The fruit looked like it had been sitting in the sun too long. I didn’t care. I was hungry. I took a big bite. It was mushy and sweet. It was delicious. I needed the energy.
“Thank you, Twig,” I said sincerely.
The girl softened. She smiled, then jammed the rest of the fruit into my mouth.
“Feed yourself,” she said snottily, and walked off as the others laughed. I closed my teeth, took a big bite, and let the rest fall to the ground.
Siry stood in front of the group, facing me. “You asked me what I believe in. I believe in the Jakills.”
The group erupted in spontaneous cheers. “Yeah! The Jakills!” they shouted.
When they calmed down I said sarcastically, “Cute name. What does it mean?”
“It means the tribunal hates us, because we stand for everything they fear.”
Several of the others grumbled in agreement, including the Jakills peering down from the platforms above.
“Like what?” I asked.
“Like change,” Siry said. “And truth. The leaders of this village won’t face the truth. They won’t let anyone face the truth.”
“What is the truth?” I asked.
Siry looked around. Every last eye was on him. He was their leader, no question.
“The truth is,” he said, playing out the drama, “the truth is we’re the future of Ibara.”
The group cheered. It was the most sincere thing I’d heard from him. Siry was pretty charismatic. He knew how to play to his people.
He went on, “The tribunal fears us because they know we’re going to take away their power.”
“Yeah?” I laughed. “How? By hanging out in the jungle and eating rotten fruit?”
Everyone fell silent. The kids hanging off the platforms leaned down a little closer. I had
challenged Siry and insulted all of them. It might have been a dumb thing to do, but I had to be just as bold and confident as they were. I had to prove that I was a match for Siry.
He stared at me with dead eyes. That was worse than looking angry. Angry is predictable. Siry took a step toward me and said in a low voice, “You told me my father died willingly for something he believed in. Would you?”
“Willingly?” I scoffed. “Nobody dies willingly. Your father didn’t. He fought for what was right.”
“And what exactly was that?” Siry asked. “Tell me. Tell us all!” He threw his arms out and walked around the group, saying, “We all want to know, Traveler man! You say my father was a hero who battled an evil demon? Who is this demon? What does he want? Bring him here, I want to see him.”
Everyone laughed at his cocky posturing.
“He’s already here,” I said coldly.
That made everybody quiet down real quick. Siry hesitated. A few threw him questioning looks. Siry reloaded and continued the performance. He called out to the jungle, “Hello? Demon? Where are you? I’d like to see the man who killed the great Remudi.”
Some of the kids laughed. Others glanced around nervously, as if a demon might actually show up. Siry waited for dramatic effect then stalked back toward me. “If you want to find true evil, you don’t have to look any further than the tribunal of Rayne.”
“What are they guilty of?” I asked.
“They’ve committed the worst crime of all,” Siry said through gritted teeth. “They’ve stolen our souls.”
Tweeeeee!
A harsh whistle pierced the jungle. Everyone looked up in surprise. Suddenly two more boys blasted into the clearing from the jungle. One was blowing the whistle. They were out of breath and sweating. They looked scared.
“They’re coming,” one gasped.
“Here?” Siry shot back.
“No,” the other boy said. “Rayne. They’re moving toward the village. We saw them in the jungle. It’s hard to tell how many. More than ever.”
The others grumbled nervously. Siry stared into space, calculating. The blond thief ran up to him.
“What do we do?” he asked.
Siry looked around, making quick eye contact with each and every kid. They all looked squarely back at him. I’d seen that look before. Whatever he was going to ask them to do, they were ready.
Siry shot me a look and said, “You think we’re criminals, and maybe we are. But it doesn’t mean we’re wrong.”
He grabbed the blond kid by the shirt and commanded, “Let’s go.”
An excited buzz went through the crowd. That’s what they wanted to hear. The blond kid smiled and ran across the clearing with two others. They went right to the wooden chests, threw them open, and pulled out armloads of the same short, wooden weapons I’d seen on the hips of the security force. I heard a steady buzzing sound and looked up to see several kids sliding down zip lines from the higher platforms. They hit the ground running and joined the others. Their excitement was growing. They were getting ready for a fight.
The blond kid and the others returned to the group and handed out weapons.
Siry stood over me. “I want you to see this.” He reached behind the chair and untied me. “That is, if you can handle it.”
“Depends on what I’m supposed to do,” I said, rubbing my wrists.
“Follow and watch. I want you to see what the Jakills are about.”
“I’m there,” I said, trying to sound stronger than I felt.
Truth be told, I was feeling better. The excitement of the group was getting to me. My heart started racing. So long as I only had to watch, I’d be okay. More than that and I’d probably crash.
The others began disappearing into the jungle.
“What happens now?” I asked Siry.
He grabbed a wooden baton from the blond guy and shoved it in his belt. “We hunt.”
“For what?”
“Flighters” was Siry’s response as he took off to join his friends.
Before I knew it, I was alone in the bizarre campsite. I was about to become involved in something that sounded dangerous. I wondered if the tribunal would consider this the kind of trouble I wasn’t supposed to get into. Before I had a chance to talk myself out of it I ran into the jungle after Siry and the Jakills, ready for…I didn’t know what.
JOURNAL #29
IBARA
I followed the Jakills through the dense jungle, running to keep up. It wasn’t easy. They knew every root and rock. I had to stay focused and drive myself forward without driving my head into the ground. They ran like jungle cats, leaping over fallen trees and ducking under branches without breaking stride. I ran more like a confused turtle, getting slashed by branches and trying not to break my neck. Making it worse, I had to keep looking up to see where they were going. It took all of two minutes before I totally lost them. I was alone in the jungle. Lost. I looked around, ready to run, but to where? I was tired and frantic and felt a little more than helpless.
I gulped air, turned, and came face-to-face with the blond thief. I jumped in surprise. Where had he come from?
“This way,” he commanded, and took off again.
I didn’t hesitate and ran after him. Soon we were climbing up a vine-tangled rocky ridge. I kept scraping my arms on the sharp walls and getting my ankles caught by vines that seemed to be reaching out to grab me. The blond guy didn’t have trouble at all. If anything, he kept slowing down to let me catch up.
Finally we broke out of the jungle cover, onto a rocky ledge on the side of the mountain. Several of the Jakills were already there, including Siry. They were all looking intently below. Nobody acknowledged my arrival.
It was an incredible view. The village was spread out beneath us. Beyond that was the vast green bay and then the ocean. It made me feel as if we were on an island. I sat down to catch my breath and watch Siry. He crouched low, scanning the village like a cat searching for prey. His eyes were narrow and focused. Nobody spoke until…
“There,” he said, pointing.
We looked to see movement in the jungle far below. There seemed to be a group of people making their way through the dense brush toward the edge of the village. We were too high up and the jungle was too thick to see what they looked like, but by the movement of trees and the brief flashes of bodies I could tell they were spread out and moving cautiously.
“There’s more than just them,” one of the guys warned who had first run into the clearing to sound the alarm. “Lots more.”
“What are they doing?” Twig whispered.
While everyone kept their eyes on the movement below, Siry looked elsewhere. Up until then, Siry’s attitude was one of defiance and anger. At that moment I saw he had more going on than that. He was focused. His mind was working. There was definitely more to Siry than I first had thought.
“Look,” Twig exclaimed. “Smoke. They’re going to burn something.”
I saw a thin wisp of black smoke rise above the trees where the group of Flighters were moving. Who were those guys? I figured I’d find out soon enough.
“Let’s go,” the little guy with the ratty eyes exclaimed. He made a move to climb down, but Siry quickly put an arm out to stop him.
“No.” Siry ordered with authority.
“Why not?” the ratty guy whined. “We can stop them.”
“Wait,” Siry insisted.
A few moments later I saw smoke rising up near the edge of the village. Twig was right. The Flighters had set fire to something.
“They’re torching huts!” Twig exclaimed.
Siry didn’t react. He kept his eyes on the jungle below. Focused. Scanning. “An alarm will sound,” he said as if thinking out loud. “The security force will come running.”
Sure enough, a loud horn began to wail. The sharp, droning sound grew loud enough so that every person in the village could hear it.
Siry nodded knowingly. “The entire force will rush to put out the fi
re and meet the enemy like the heroes they think they are. Idiots.”
The ratty guy laughed and said, “Yeah! Idiots!” He quickly frowned and asked, “Why are they idiots?”
Siry kept his eyes on the village. I kept my eyes on Siry. He pointed down to the other side of the village from where the fire was being set.
“The fire is a decoy,” he announced. “There are the others.”
We all looked to see more movement in the jungle below. A group of Flighters, or whatever they were, was moving in the opposite direction from the fire.
The blond guy declared, “They’re headed for the mountain. The tribunal. If the entire security force is on the other side of the village—”
“The tribunal isn’t protected,” Siry said. He stood up and looked at the others. “That’s where we need to be,” he said, and scrambled down the side of the mountain.
The Jakills were right after him. I was right after them. None of this made sense. I thought the Jakills were a bunch of outlaws. There was no question that the tribunal thought Siry was a criminal. They had just sentenced him to a year of hard labor! Yet he was willing to take on invaders to protect the very people he called “evil.” There was nothing about Ibara that made sense. All I could do was keep up and hope to find some answers.
I also had to hope I wouldn’t trip and crash while running down the rocky, vine-covered slope. The Jakills had grown up in this jungle. They knew it and moved through the uneven terrain as easily as if they were running across artificial turf. They were nearly silent, too. The only sound I heard was my own clumsy crashing and bashing along. Nobody slowed down to help me this time. They had to get down the slope and head off the Flighters before they reached the mountain cave. I’m guessing the ledge we were on was about a half mile up the side of that mountain. When we started after them, the Flighters were only a few hundred yards from the mouth of the cave leading to where the tribunal met. If there was any hope of catching them, we’d have to be fast, and hope the Flighters were slow.
The Pilgrims of Rayne Page 13