Black

by Ted Dekker

  And then he saw the beautiful creature standing on the white bridge. The one he had seen at sunrise! The beast wore a bright yellow cloak and a wreath fashioned with white flowers around his head. He gnawed on a large fruit, the likes of which Tanis had never seen, and stared directly at him with glowing, green eyes.

  Silence. All but the river was deathly silent. It was as if they had expected him. What a lovely creature Teeleh was.

  He caught himself. These were the Shataiki. Vermin. They were meant to be beaten, not coddled. But, as the histories had so eloquently recorded, to defeat your enemy you must know him. He would speak to the big beautiful one only. And he would pretend to be a friend. In this way he would outwit the creature by learning his weaknesses, then return one day and be rid of him.

  And he would do it holding the colored wood.

  He grabbed a small green stick about the length of his arm and stepped out onto the bank.

  “Greetings,” he called. “I am Tanis. By what name are you called?”

  He knew, of course, but Tanis didn’t want to tip his hand. The beast tossed the half-eaten fruit behind him and rubbed the juice from his mouth with a hairy blue wing. He smiled with crooked yellow teeth. “I am Teeleh,” he said. “We have waited for you, my friend.”

  Tanis glanced back at the colored forest. Well, then. Here was the creature he had come to meet. Tanis felt an uncommon flutter in his heart and stepped out to meet Teeleh, the leader of the Shataiki.

  He stopped at the foot of the bridge and studied the creature. Of course! This was trickery! How could the leader of the Shataiki be different from his legions?

  “You’re not what I expected,” he said.

  “No? And what did you expect?”

  “I had heard that you were quite clever. How clever is it to pretend you’re different than you really are when you know you’ll be found out?”

  Teeleh chuckled. “You like that, don’t you?”

  “I like what? Exposing you for what you are? Are you afraid to show me who you really are?”

  “You like being clever,” Teeleh said. “It’s why You’ve come here. To be clever. To learn more. More knowledge. The truth.”

  “Then show me the truth.”

  “I intend to.”

  Teeleh’s eyes turned first, from green to red. Then his wings and body, slowly to gray, then black. All the while his smile held true. Talons extended from his feet and dug into the wood. It was a shocking transformation, and Tanis gripped the colored stick tighter.

  “Is that better?” The bat’s voice had changed to a low, guttural growl.

  “No. It’s much worse. You’re the most hideous creature I could ever have imagined.”

  “Ah, but I possess more knowledge and truth than you could ever have imagined as well. Would you like to hear?”

  The invitation sounded suspect, but Tanis couldn’t think of an appropriate way to decline. How could he reject the truth?

  Teeleh’s snout suddenly gaped wide, so that Tanis could see the back of his mouth, where his pink tongue disappeared into a dark throat. A low, rumbling note rolled out, followed immediately by a high, piercing one that seemed to reach into him and touch his spine. Teeleh’s song ravaged him with its strange chorus of terrible beauty. Powerful and conquering and intoxicating at once. Tanis felt an overwhelming compulsion to rush up the bridge, but he held firm.

  Teeleh closed his mouth. The notes echoed, then fell silent. The bats in the forest peered at him without a stir. Tanis felt a little disorientated by all these new sensations.

  “This is new to you?” Teeleh asked.

  Tanis shifted the makeshift sword to his left hand. “Yes.”

  “And do you know why it’s new?”

  It was a good question. A trick? No, just a question.

  “Are you afraid of me?” Teeleh asked. “You know that I can’t cross the bridge, yet you stand at the bottom in fear.”

  “Why would I be afraid of what can’t harm me?”

  No, that’s not entirely true. He can hurt me. I must be very careful.

  “Then walk closer. You want to know more about me so that you can destroy me. So walk closer and see me clearly.”

  How did the beast know this?

  “Because I know far more than you do, my friend. And I can tell you how to know what I know. Come closer. You’re safe. You have the wood in your hand.”

  Teeleh could have guessed his thoughts; they weren’t so unique. At any rate, he should show this beast that he was not afraid. What kind of warrior quivered at the bottom of the bridge? He walked up the white planks and stopped ten feet from Teeleh.

  “You are braver than most,” the bat said, eying his colored sword.

  “And I am not as dense as you think I am,” Tanis said. “I know that even now you’re trying your trickery.”

  “If I use this . . . trickery and persuade you by it, wouldn’t that mean I am smarter than you?”

  Tanis considered the logic. “Perhaps.”

  “Then trickery is a form of knowledge. And knowledge is a form of truth. And you want more of it; otherwise, as I said, you wouldn’t be here. So if by using trickery I persuade you to accept my knowledge, it can only be because I am smarter than you. I have more truth.”

  It was confounding, this logic of his.

  “The reason my song is new to you, Tanis, is because Elyon doesn’t want you to hear it. And why? Because it will give you the same knowledge that I have. It will give you too much power. Power comes with the truth; you already know that.”

  “Yes. But I won’t have you talking about Elyon like this.” Tanis jabbed his stick forward. “I should stick you through now and be done with this.”

  “Go ahead. Try it.”

  “I might, but I’m not here for battle. I’m here to learn the truth.”

  “Well, then. I can show it to you.” Teeleh pulled a yellow fruit from behind his back. “There is in this fruit some knowledge. Power. Enough power to make all the creatures behind me cringe. Wouldn’t you like that? One word from you, and they will squeal in pain. Because they will know you have the truth, and with that truth comes great power. Here, try it.”

  “No, I can’t eat your fruit.”

  “Then you don’t want the truth?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Is it forbidden to eat this fruit?”

  “No.”

  “Of course not. If there was harm in eating this fruit, Elyon would have forbidden it! But there is no harm, so it is not forbidden. There is only knowledge and power. Take it.”

  Tanis glanced back at the colored forest. What the bat said was true. There was no harm in eating the fruit. There was no evil in it. It wasn’t forbidden.

  “Just one bite,” Teeleh said. “If you find that what I’ve said isn’t true, then leave. But you owe it to yourself to at least try it. Hmm? Don’t you think?” The large beast made no effort to hide his talons, which tapped impatiently on the wood bridge.

  Tanis looked past the large black bat and hesitated. “Well, you know I won’t drink any of your water.”

  “Heavens no! Just the fruit. A gift of truth from me to you.”

  Tanis held the colored stick firmly and stepped forward to take the fruit.

  “Keep the wood to your side, if you don’t mind,” Teeleh said. “It is the color of deception, and it doesn’t sit well with my truth.”

  Tanis stopped. “See, I already have the power. Why do I need yours?”

  “Go ahead, wave it at my subjects and see how much power you have.”

  Tanis glanced at the throngs behind Teeleh. He motioned at them with the sword, but none so much as flinched.

  “You see? How can you compare your power to mine, unless you first know? Know your enemy. Know his fruit. Taste what Elyon himself has invited you to taste by not forbidding it. Just keep your stick at your side so that it doesn’t touch me.”

  Tanis now wanted very much to try this mysterious yellow fruit in Teeleh’s cl
aw. He lowered the sword to his side, ready to use it at a moment’s notice, stepped forward, and took the fruit. It felt daring, but he was a warrior, and to defeat this enemy he had to employ his own trickery.

  He stepped back, just out of Teeleh’s reach, and bit into the fruit. Immediately his world swam in stunning color. Power surged through his blood, and his mind felt numb.

  “Do you feel the power?”

  “It’s . . . it’s quite strong,” Tanis said. He took another bite.

  “Now, raise your hand and command my legions.”

  Tanis looked at the black bats that lined the trees. “Now?”

  “Yes. Use your new power.”

  Tanis lifted an unsteady hand. Without a single word, the Shataiki began to shriek and turn away. The sound made him cringe. Terror swept through their ranks. This with a single outstretched arm.

  “You see? Lower your arm before you destroy my army.”

  Tanis lowered his arm.

  “Can I take this fruit with me?”

  “No. Please hand it back.”

  Tanis did so, though somewhat reluctantly. The Shataiki continued their ruckus.

  “Not to worry, my friend. I have another fruit. More truth. More power. This one will open your mind to the forbidden truth. That is the truth only the wise ones possess. You can’t command armies with power alone. You must have the mind to lead. This fruit will show it to you.”

  Tanis knew he should leave, but there was no law forbidding even this.

  “It’s the same fruit your friend Thomas ate,” Teeleh said.

  Tanis looked up, shocked. “Thomas ate your fruit?”

  “Of course. It’s why he’s so wise. And he knows the histories because he drank my water. Thomas has the knowledge.”

  The revelation made Tanis dizzy. That was how Thomas knew the histories. He reached out his hand.

  “No, for this fruit you must put your sword on the railing here, on my side of the bridge. I can’t touch it, of course. But you must hold this fruit with both hands.”

  The bat’s reasoning sounded very strange, but then Tanis’s mind wasn’t entirely clear. As long as the sword was right there where he could grab it if needed, what harm would there be in setting it down? If anything, it put a greater barrier between him and the bat.

  Tanis stepped forward and set the stick on the railing. Then he reached both hands for the fruit in Teeleh’s outstretched claw.

  When they broke from the forest, Tanis already stood before the horrid beast, like a dumb sheep bleating to its butcher. Tom skidded to a halt. Michal landed on a branch to his right.

  “Michal!” Tom rasped.

  “We’re too late!” the Roush said. “Too late!”

  “He’s still talking!”

  “Tanis will decide.”

  “What?”

  Tom turned back to the scene before him. Tom stood frozen by the moment. He could barely hear his friend’s voice above the shrieking bats.

  “This is the fruit that Thomas ate?” Tanis took the fruit from the grinning black beast with both hands.

  Tom released the tree he had gripped with white knuckles and leaped forward. No, Tanis! Don’t be such an utter fool. Throw it back at him!

  He wanted to yell it, but his throat was frozen.

  “It is indeed, my friend,” Teeleh said. “Thomas is a very wise man indeed.”

  Half the Shataiki lining the trees now noticed him. They flew into a fit, pointing in panic, shrieks now earsplitting.

  Tom raced across the bank toward the arching bridge. “Tanis!”

  But Tanis didn’t turn. Had he already eaten?

  Tanis took one step backward, and Tom was sure that he was about to fling the fruit back at the beast and leave him standing on the bridge’s crest. The man paused and said something too softly for Tom to hear above the bats. He stared at the fruit in his hands.

  “Tanis!” Tom cried, rushing onto the bridge.

  Tanis calmly brought the fruit to his mouth and bit deeply.

  The throng of bats in the trees behind Teeleh suddenly fell silent. The wind whistled quietly and the river below murmured, but otherwise a terrible stillness swallowed the bridge.

  “Tanis!”

  Tanis whirled around. A stream of juice glistened on his chin. The fruit’s yellow flesh was lodged in his gaping mouth.

  “Thomas. You’ve come!”

  He closed his lips over the piece between his teeth and held the bitten fruit out toward Tom. “Is this the same fruit you ate, Thomas? I must say, it is very good indeed.”

  Tom slid to a halt halfway up the arch. “Don’t be a fool, Tanis! It’s not too late. Drop it and come back.” He shook as he spoke. “Now! Drop it now!”

  “Oh, it is you,” the beast behind Tanis sneered. “I thought I heard a voice. Don’t worry, Tanis, my friend. He would like to be the only one to eat my fruit, but you know too much now, don’t you? Has he told you about his spaceship?”

  Tanis swiveled his head from Tom to the beast and back again, as though unsure of what he was expected to do.

  “Tanis, don’t listen to him. Get ahold of yourself!”

  Tanis’s eyes seemed to float in their sockets. The fruit was taking its toll on the man.

  “Thomas? What spaceship?” Tanis asked.

  “He’s afraid to tell you the truth,” Teeleh snarled. “He drank the water!”

  “It’s a lie!” Tom said. “Do not cross the bridge. Drop the fruit.”

  Tanis wasn’t listening. Yellow juice from the fruit trickled down his cheek, staining his tunic. He turned back to the beast and took another bite.

  “Very powerful,” he said. “With this kind of power, I could defeat even you.”

  “Yesssss.” The hideous bat grinned. “And we have something you cannot possibly imagine.”

  He withdrew a leather pouch.

  “Here, drink this. It will open your eyes to new worlds.”

  Tanis looked at the bat, then at the pouch. Then he reached one hand for the pouch.

  Teeleh turned, and in doing so he bumped into something Tom hadn’t seen before. A stick resting on the railing. A dark stick that had lost its color. The wood slid off the railing and fell into the river.

  Tom whirled around. Michal was watching in silence. “Elyon!” Tom screamed. Surely he would do something. He loved Tanis desperately. “Elyon!”

  Nothing.

  He spun back to the bridge. What was happening was happening because of him. In spite of him. He felt as powerless and as terrified as he could ever remember feeling.

  Teeleh walked slowly, ever so slowly, favoring his right leg. Down the bridge to the opposite bank. “More knowledge than you can handle,” he said. “Isn’t that so, my friends?” he bellowed to the throngs lining the forest.

  “Yesss . . . yessss,” rasped a sea of voices.

  “Then bid our friend drink,” he cried out, stepping onto the opposite bank. “Bid him drink!”

  “Drink, drink, drink, drink,” the Shataiki chanted slowly, in one throbbing, seductive tone. A song.

  Tom felt the hair on his neck stand on end. Tanis looked back at him, eyes glazed over, a grin twisting his face. He released a nervous chuckle.

  Tom’s mind began to swim in panic. Tanis was falling for it!

  In final desperation, he lunged up the arch toward the intoxicated man. “Tanis, don’t . Don’t do it!” he cried over the bewitched song. “You have no idea what you’re doing!”

  Tanis turned back to the chanting throng and took a step toward the opposite shore.

  Images of Rachelle and little Johan flashed before Tom’s eyes. This was not going to happen, not if he could help it.

  He leaped forward, gripped the railing with his left arm, and flung his other arm around the man’s waist. Planting his feet hard, he jerked Tanis back, nearly pulling him from his feet.

  With a snarl Tanis swung around and planted a kick on his chest. Tom flew back and sat hard on the deck.

  “N
o, Thomas! You are not the only one who can have this knowledge! Who are you to tell me what I must do?”

  “It’s a lie, Tanis! I didn’t drink!”

  “You’re lying! You’re dreaming of the histories. No one has ever dreamed of the histories.”

  “Because I fell!”

  A brief look of confusion crossed the firstborn’s face. He turned away with a tear in his eye, lifted the pouch to his lips, and poured the water into his mouth.

  Then he walked over the bridge and stepped onto the parched earth beyond.

  What happened next was a sight Tom would never forget as long as he lived. The moment Tanis set foot on the ground next to the large black bat, a dozen smaller Shataiki stalked out to greet him. Tom scrambled to his feet just as Tanis extended a hand in greeting to the nearest Shataiki. But instead of taking his hand, the Shataiki suddenly leaped from the ground and slashed angrily at the extended hand with his talons.

  For a moment, time seemed to cease.

  The pouch dropped from Tanis’s hand. His half-eaten fruit tumbled lazily to the ground. Tanis lowered his eyes to his hand just as the white walls of a deep gash began to fill with blood.

  And then the first effects of his new world fell on the elder like a vicious, bloodthirsty beast.

  Tanis screamed with pain.

  Teeleh faced the black forest, standing tall and stately.

  “Take him!” he said.

  The groups of Shataiki who had greeted Tanis dived for him. Tanis threw his hands up in defense, but in his state of shock it was hopeless. Fangs punctured his neck and his spine; a wicked claw sliced at his face, severing most of it in one terrible swipe. Then Tanis disappeared in a mess of flailing black fur.

  Teeleh raised his wings in victory and beckoned the waiting throngs that still clung to the trees. “Now!” he thundered above the sounds of the attack on Tanis. “Now! Did I not tell you?” He lifted his chin and howled in a voice so loud and so terrifying that it seemed to rip the sky itself open.

  “Our time has come!”

  A ground-shaking roar erupted from the horde of beasts. Above the cheer Tom heard the leader’s throaty, guttural roar. “Destroy the land. Take what is ours!”

  Teeleh swept his wings toward the colored forest.