The Magic of Hobson Jobson

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The Magic of Hobson Jobson Page 9

by Soyna Owley


  Floyd inhaled the soggy air and closed his eyes. The spray misted his oilcloth.

  ‘Behold, the Waterfall of Faces. I’ve passed through it at least a dozen times. A spirit supposedly inhabits it. Never seen it. Don’t know anyone who has,’ Naveen shouted.

  The path turned and they faced the waterfall a few dozen feet away, its thunderous roar deafening. It was small, considering how loud the roar of the waters was—only about three hundred feet in height. Floyd stared. It was the strangest thing. An archway of black rock, smooth and shiny like a mirror, stretched over the river. Each column of the arch was on either bank of the river. An enormous curtain of water gushed down from the arch. The source of the water was not evident. Kusmati joined them on the deck and grinned at Floyd.

  ‘Spectacular, isn’t it?’ she yelled.

  The rushing water took different shapes as it cascaded down. At the very top of the fall, it became a unicorn’s head before crashing on to the rocks below. Then, in a flash, the enormous head of a rhinoceros with a huge horn tumbled into the tossing waters.

  ‘How does it do that?’ Floyd yelled.

  ‘Look,’ Kusmati pointed at the falling water. The distinct shape of a Ridgeback’s head formed and then continued into a torso with a perfect ridge. The watery dog dove into the rocks below from the very top of the fall and disappeared in a burst of spray. Floyd clapped his hand to his mouth. How could moving water form solid shapes?

  Naveen laughed. ‘I’ve never seen it make the shape of a Ridgeback before. Maybe it did that for you.’

  Floyd’s eyes widened. Their ship was heading straight towards the fall.

  ‘Everyone in your cabins, unless you want to be soaked,’ Naveen yelled. Chutney yelped and sped down the stairs.

  ‘We’re going in!’ a deckhand yelled above the boom of the fast approaching waterfall.

  ‘Hold on to your oilcloths!’ shouted Balsam. Floyd gasped in preparation for the surge into the moving wall of water, grateful he had a firm grip on the rail.

  Suddenly, the thunder of the waterfall stopped. Its earsplitting roar disappeared and it was as silent as a cobra about to strike. Its undulating formations and shapes continued.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Balsam said to Naveen. The ship’s noises faded, the crew was silent. The dogs had come up from below and sat in a single line on the deck, their heads cocked, noses quivering.

  ‘I don’t know. The ship won’t respond. I’ve been through this fall endless times. Never happened before.’

  The Charpoy then began to rise in the air. It spun slowly in the eerie silence. They rose until they faced the middle of the falls, about hundred and fifty feet in the air. Floyd looked around.

  Then a chorus of musical female voices rang out in perfect unison.

  ‘Yaksha!’

  Floyd’s knees swayed. His heart flopped like a live fish in his chest. Someone had called out—called for him. It called again. An unearthly voice that seemed to be everywhere.

  ‘What enchantment is this?’ Naveen yelled, turning around, searching the water. ‘Show yourself!’

  Two identical women’s faces formed side by side on the inner surface of the waterfall, crimson jewels adorning their brows. Their heart-shaped faces and flashing eyes turned towards the Charpoy. Their features were clearly beautiful, even through the rivulets of running water.

  ‘We are the Kishm. The Yaksha wishes to pass our fall. We pay our greetings,’ they said, their voices lilting and melodious.

  Balsam elbowed Floyd.

  Floyd trembled and raised his face towards the women. These must be the spirits of the fall. Dare he look these brilliant creatures in the face? How did one address them? They clearly knew about him. If they knew him, surely they must know about Farook.

  He stood silent as the thoughts buzzed around in his head like a swarm of bees.

  The faces regarded him blankly, and then one spoke. ‘The Yaksha has made a brave choice by accepting his destiny,’ she said, her expression neutral. ‘His mission, if successful, will save many. But first, we must be satisfied that he is worthy of such an honourable task.’

  The other spirit remained silent but frowned.

  The crew of the Charpoy remained silent. Floyd held the deck rail tight, not trusting his wobbly knees. Worthy? How would he prove that?

  The spirit spoke again. ‘The Yaksha must answer a question before he can pass. If he is successful, he will be permitted to continue his journey.’

  ‘And if I don’t?’ Floyd said, his voice strangled.

  ‘You will be trapped in the Kishm’s belly for eternity,’ said the waterfall spirit.

  Floyd trembled so violently he thought he would vomit. How could they do this? After they had come this far. This just wasn’t fair.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ Floyd yelled.

  ‘Only the Yaksha can free us Kishm from our entrapment in the waterfall. Centuries we have waited for him, patiently,’ she said, unsmiling.

  ‘Centuries since the Portuguese Water Djinn cursed my sister and me into this fall, after we spurned his offer of marriage,’ the other spirit hissed, her face contorting. ‘Free us, Yaksha, so we can go to Coimbra to avenge our humiliation.’

  Coimbra? In Portugal? Were they serious? Floyd tried to keep his gaze focused, but the spirit had become so enraged her face throbbed like a strobe light. His eyes hurt.

  The other spirit explained. ‘The Djinn frolics in the Manga garden fountains in luxury, while we are doomed. This makes us angry.’ She turned to her sister. ‘Please calm yourself, sister, so the Yaksha can answer his question.’

  Floyd gazed into the giant face of the waterfall and took a deep breath. Something niggled at the back of his mind. The question! Floyd’s neck prickled as the Tannycatch’s words flashed into his thoughts: The first task is to answer a question. He sank to his knees.

  ‘What is it, Yaksha?’ Naveen asked.

  ‘It’s happening. It’s the first task,’ Floyd said, getting up. He steadied himself and slammed his fist on the deck rail.

  ‘Suffering Shiitakes,’ Naveen’s whisper was strangled.

  Floyd put a hand on Naveen’s arm and turned to the spirits. He took a shaky, ragged breath. Clearly, this was about him and no one else. ‘What is your question, Kishm?’

  ‘The question is simple: tell us, Yaksha, what is the purpose of your journey? What is it you search for?’ the eerie voices echoed. The Charpoy bobbed as it floated in the air.

  Chutney growled, nestling close to Floyd, his teeth bared.

  That was it? That was their great question? Why he was making this journey? Farook had disappeared. And, he had a bloody destiny, didn’t he? It’s not like he had a choice—at least that’s what the Tannycatch had made it seem. He looked up at the spirits and cleared his throat.

  ‘I make this journey to find my brother.’

  ‘STUPID, STUPID BOY!’ the spirit screamed and a high-pitched wail rang out, reverberating so loudly that the crew covered their ears.

  The face on the fall flickered and then cold stinging silver raindrops fell on the ship, jabbing them like spears. Everyone on the deck cried out in pain.

  ‘The Yaksha mocks the integrity of his mission with his carelessness,’ shrieked the spirit. ‘And he keeps us imprisoned. Oh, the agony! You simpleton. You were our only hope, Yaksha. Curse you!’

  ‘I am not stupid!’ Floyd yelled as the ship shook violently.

  ‘As we remain tormented forever, so must you suffer. Die, Yaksha, die!’

  The floating ship fell through the cold air. Its mast teetered, then broke with a splintering crack, swinging at an unnatural angle.

  Answer the question with truth in your heart. It will save your life, the Tannycatch had said.

  ‘WAIT!’ Floyd screamed.

  The foaming water below rushed up in a blur of grey. Kusmati screamed, teetered at the edge of the ship and lost her balance.

  Floyd lunged at Kusmati and grabbed her wrist. He heaved and pulled
her back on board even as the rocks rushed up.

  The boat stopped its fall, dangling precariously close to the moving sheets of water that thundered silently. The raindrops stopped. Kusmati shivered in Floyd’s embrace for a moment and then pulled away.

  ‘Does the Yaksha beg for his life?’ one of the waterfall spirits whispered, her voice multiplying until it sounded like a million mothers shushing their babies.

  Floyd gripped the rail as a violent tremor shook the ship. He felt a sudden rage at the unfairness of the situation. This maniacal spirit would never give him a chance.

  Chutney growled and unzipped his ridge. His wings unleashed and expanded. He rose and circled the floating ship. The other dogs followed, suspended around the ship, their teeth bared. Floyd squeezed his tears back. With his ineptitude, he would cause the crew that accompanied him and these beautiful, innocent animals to die. He was worth nothing, completely useless and horribly unlucky. But he had spoken the truth, hadn’t he? By gum, he had. The Tannycatch said it would save his life. It was now or never. He had to fight his way out of this.

  Floyd squarely faced the spirits of Kishm and spoke loudly and steadily. ‘I spoke with truth in my heart, with the knowledge I have.’

  ‘Yaksha, your mission is over before it started,’ the spirit said with a mirthless cackle. ‘You are ill-fated—like us. You’re the unluckiest wretch in the world.’

  ‘But I spoke with truth in my heart,’ argued Floyd.

  ‘That is plenty, sister,’ the other spirit spoke.

  Floyd looked up at her but she did not make eye contact. He could see now that there was a difference between the two faces, even though they were identical. One was kinder, more compassionate, the other impatient, angrier. They’re twins, he thought, like Farook and I.

  The spirit continued. ‘I say that the Yaksha has not lied. He only answered the question with the information he had accumulated. Although he wasn’t right, he wasn’t wrong.’

  The watery faces of the other spirit flickered and pondered over the comment. Then they talked over each other, in a language that sounded like the chup-chupping of a garden lizard. Their voices echoed, bouncing off the silent sheet of water on all sides, back and forth. The Ressuldars grew leaves over their ears as the voices rose to a crescendo.

  Finally, the spirits turned to Floyd, one of them frowning, the other’s expression noncommittal. ‘Yaksha, my sister does not think you will survive the mission you have set out to complete and hence she does not see any reason to let you go. I, however, disagree. Although you did not answer the question correctly, you did not lie. You have argued your case. By the law of the land, we let you go,’ she said in the funny lilting tone they seemed to favour while speaking to him. ‘But remember, you will have to pass these falls again to return home—if you return, that is. Be warned and be prepared. Our fate, as well as yours, lies in your discovery.’

  ‘There will be no kindness if you fail us the next time,’ the more unpleasant of the two said, her bejewelled forehead glittering.

  Floyd shuddered and nodded. They thought they were being kind? Incredible. No matter. He was grateful to be alive.

  The floating Charpoy rocked as it was lowered, hitting the water with a splash. It moved through the sheet of water, its bedraggled crew gasping for breath. Then the ship surged through the falls. The giant curtain of water crashed over his head, stinging his arms like needles. For an instant, they were surrounded by the thunder of the pelting fall and then they had passed through and were on the other side of the river.

  ‘We’re alive,’ Floyd gasped, coughing out water. His clothes were soaked through the oilcloth. His heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings and his body felt like it had been washed and wrung like a towel. He shook the wet strands of hair out of his face.

  Chutney sat a few steps from him, breathing rapidly, his tongue hanging out. Naveen lay on his side, groaning loudly. Kusmati was attending to the injured and had a flask of hot hibiscus wine that she passed around as she chewed on chicle sap. She appeared cheerful, and not in the least fazed by any of this. No wonder Balsam had called her irrepressible. Where was Balsam anyway?

  Floyd touched his elbow and realized he was bleeding. A splinter from the mast had scraped him.

  ‘Here, allow me,’ Balsam said, completely drenched, his white ponytail like a limp rag on his back. His fingernails grew minty-smelling leaves that he plucked out one by one and wrapped around Floyd’s wound; in a few minutes, the bleeding stopped. ‘Are you okay?’

  Floyd nodded. Chutney nestled into his side, his warmth suffusing Floyd’s body even as his chest felt chilly. That was only the first task, and he hadn’t even completed it. How was he ever going to do the rest of them? Not only had he barely escaped with his life, but he had endangered the entire crew of the Charpoy.

  The unluckiest wretch in the world, the voice in his head said.

  14

  The Mutchaan

  Floyd re-emerged on the deck. The humid air hung soft and listless, and giant mosquitoes hummed around, stinging everyone. The Ridgebacks snapped at them uselessly while the deckhands hurriedly lit shards of lemongrass.

  The Merman’s Charpoy floated down the river Mantra quietly, the silence punctuated by twittering birds on gnarled trees. Screeching monkeys threw amber fruits at the passing ship.

  ‘You-hoo! A prize if you can hit me,’ Kusmati yelled, a prancing bull’s eye that only increased the monkeys’ fury.

  ‘Kusmati, just do the opposite of what your instinct tells you and those monkeys won’t want to kill you,’ Balsam teased.

  Floyd picked up a fallen fruit and threw it at her. It hit Kusmati on her ear and she turned around, glaring. Floyd grinned. She blushed. She hadn’t made eye contact with him since the incident at the waterfall.

  Naveen ignored everyone as he sipped muddy tea from a tall glass and pored over a map. Agnita was scribbling on parchment with a slender quill. How comfortable they all were with each other—Floyd was the outsider. He felt a pang of longing. His family seemed so far away right now. Who knows where Farook was. If it hadn’t been for Floyd’s miserable luck, he wouldn’t be in this position right now.

  Naveen looked up from his map. ‘Yaksha, your bravery is the talk of the ship.’

  Floyd flushed. ‘Thank you, sir. I’m just glad everyone’s safe,’ he said.

  Yaksha. For the first time, that name didn’t seem as strange. Was he beginning to accept his destiny?

  ‘Kusmati would be shark food if it weren’t for your fortitude.’ Naveen’s hair sprouted small pepper berries that pattered over the deck, releasing their spicy aroma.

  ‘She was in that situation only because of me,’ Floyd said, flushing.

  ‘Nonsense.’ Naveen clapped him on his back. ‘This isn’t just your destiny. We’re all in this together.’ Floyd felt a warm glow in his chest.

  The river curved, and a range of mountains came into view, their peaks like rich, hammered silver. Even at this distance, one mountain was distinct from the others thanks to its sinister flat top.

  ‘Chandi Mountain,’ Kusmati said in a hushed voice.

  Floyd tried to quell the shudder that snaked down his spine. The image of the flat-topped mountain he had seen in the Tannycatch’s bowl did not do it justice. It looked insurmountable as it soared menacingly into the clouds.

  His insides felt hollow as he realized his journey was only beginning. And he had yet to figure out its purpose. The Kishm would be waiting for his answer. He exhaled and forced himself to smile. ‘I’ve collected a few enemies. An ancient Persian bird and an unstable waterfall spirit, so what’s a silly old mountain compared to that, right?’

  ‘You don’t have to do this, you know.’ It was Kusmati. Her face was expressionless but her hair budded blue hydrangeas. ‘You could always say no. Everyone would understand.’

  ‘Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t, Koos,’ Floyd said. How brave his words sounded. Were these just intermittent glimmers of courage? ‘I ju
st have to get there so I can get back.’

  Balsam exchanged a glance with Naveen.

  Floyd shivered. He knew what they were thinking. If he ever gets back. He tried to shrug off the unpleasant thought.

  The Charpoy came to a shuddering halt where the trees invaded the water. The deckhands struck phosphorus matchsticks and lit coals in a firepit.

  ‘After dinner you’ll take the rowboat out,’ Naveen said. The smell of grilled fish wafted through the air and the sky was purple and gold. ‘Make sure you pack a lot of warm clothes. Cloaks and sweaters are in your cabin.’

  ‘Psst.’ Kusmati was signalling to him.

  He followed her down the spiral stairs and into an unfamiliar corridor. They stood outside a door from under which golden light poured out. Kusmati opened it very slowly. On an entire wall were narrow cube shelves lined with hundreds of small test tubes containing a bright yellow liquid.

  ‘Agnita’s apothecary,’ Kusmati said.

  ‘Gold?’ Floyd asked.

  ‘It is, to us,’ Kusmati explained quietly. ‘Sunlight from Yama Forest. I want you to have some.’

  ‘What for?’ Floyd said.

  ‘When we Ressuldars travel to dark places, we need sunlight, so we bottle it up.’

  ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not a Ressuldar.’

  ‘Don’t be a prawn. You’re going to Chandi Mountain and it’s sure to be dark there. I’m going to give you my supply. Just don’t tell anyone, okay?’ She searched the labels and plucking one off, handed him a tube. He slid it in the pocket of his cloak. Kusmati hugged him. ‘Good luck, friend. I’ll be thinking of you.’ Suddenly he didn’t want to leave her. He wished he could stay like this, hugging her, for a long time.

  ‘Thanks.’ His heart felt like a lump of lead in his chest as he broke away.

  ‘Kusmati?’ It was Naveen’s voice. They ran up the stairs, passing Agnita, who glanced at them sharply. Kusmati avoided her eyes and rushed upstairs. Floyd ducked into his cabin and pulled out a heavy woollen cloak and a couple of warm sweaters from the closet. As he lifted the sweaters, a flash of orange caught his eye. The Varengan feather. He had put it in the cupboard to dry and forgotten to put it back under his sweater. He threw it into a mossy bag, then deciding against that, pulled it out and put it under his sweater where it fanned out, instantly warming him. He sprinted up the stairs.

 

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