by Soyna Owley
‘Now, boy,’ Floyd yelled and jumped on Chutney’s back. The Varengan glided alongside, but like earlier, made no attempt to touch them. Chutney landed on a ledge between two protruding shelves of rock, from which sharp icicles hung like fangs. It had started to snow.
The Varengan was instantly beside them, its bright face hot like the sun. It let out a wail that was so desperate, so mournful and so desolate that Floyd felt his own heart would burst.
‘STOP!’ he screamed.
The bird hovered and cocked its head.
‘I need your feather … to protect me,’ Floyd shouted.
A dripping sound made him turn around. The ice was melting from the heat of the Varengan’s body and now a dark hollow about five feet wide gaped behind him. It was the entrance to a cave. What astounding luck! Backing one step at a time, he edged his way in. It was longer than he had thought, its end swallowed in darkness, but it was dry and warm. The giant bird peered at him from outside. It had a bald spot on its side, close to its tail, where the feather had been plucked out.
The Varengan let out another agonizing cry that cut through him like a guillotine. Yet it made no attempt to hurt him, floating motionlessly.
Floyd’s stomach rumbled. He could have some more food, maybe even take a short nap. How his muscles longed for rest!
Again came the primal cry, full of longing. The bird’s eyes blazed wet with unshed tears, like twin pools of fire.
Floyd felt his own heart throb—he couldn’t bear this. This was a living creature in agony. Putting his hand into his cape, he pulled out the feather, an orange flame against the pure snow. His chest felt chilly without the feather.
The Varengan’s silvery gaze swept the cave as it floated at the entrance and locked on the plume in Floyd’s hand. It raised its head to the sky and shrieked again. Chutney howled. Floyd gritted his teeth. The bird needed this more than he did. He looked at Chutney and sank to the ground. Chutney barked loudly and licked Floyd’s face. A sudden realization flickered through Floyd like electricity. The Tannycatch’s words swam in his head as goosebumps crawled over his body.
The second task is to return something that doesn’t belong to you.
He walked out from his cave to where the giant bird hovered, and stretched his arm out. The Varengan glided closer and, with its thin yellow beak, grasped the feather. It bowed and, shaking its wings and making a noise like a small thunderclap, disappeared in a whoosh of warm air.
Floyd’s heart sank. The feather, his only protection, was gone. Oh, why couldn’t the stupid bird have come later, after he had finished finding the Merrows?
Floyd hugged Chutney. ‘That’s all I had to protect us, Chutney. But I guess it didn’t belong to me,’ he said mournfully.
Buried in his thoughts, he almost didn’t see the round rock with spiky projections. It was quite large, about the height of a postbox but three times as wide. The snow had melted around it, forming a puddle of water. It had curly, carved letters hewn into it.
Floyd quickly opened the map that Balsam had given him and compared it to the illustrations, his heart racing. Indeed, this was the pointer rock. If he hadn’t given the feather back to the Varengan, he would have never been able to see this rock. He couldn’t have kept the feather—the second task had to be completed for him to proceed to the third.
He examined the carvings and touched the rock. As he did so, the strangest thing happened. The words rearranged themselves into a flowing script:
When orb of fire, sphere so bright,
In an instant, is robbed of light.
And, century forfeited when day is night,
Observed by the Yaksha in full sight,
Ensured supreme will be their might
He shivered. The words sounded ominous and so knowing. As though they had been waiting for him for eons. Forfeit. Didn’t that mean a sacrifice? Jaadu’s words sprung to mind with full clarity. ‘The summoned one must complete the tasks … forest and ocean in terrible conflict as the sun shrouds itself in black. A horrific sacrifice …’
Floyd trembled and his knees swayed. That seemed so long ago. He read the words again. He didn’t understand what the third line meant. When century forfeited? When day was night? What was the significance of a century? After all, the Ressuldars and the Merrows had fought longer than that. Something was going to happen. At the solar eclipse. Surya Grahen. When the Ressuldars were at their weakest. Between forest and ocean—Ressuldars and Merrows. Oh, by Garuda! This wasn’t a silly prophecy in a dusty tent. This was the real thing—and it was happening to him. He had to be there. In full sight.
The last four lines were indecipherable and had scratch marks around them, as if someone had tried to gouge them out.
Floyd pulled out the bottle of cipher beetles that zipped back and forth, as if anxious in their confines. He put the bottle on the rock and waited. Nothing happened. He picked up the bottle and uncorked it. Almost immediately, the blue ladybird-like creatures flew out.
‘Stop,’ he yelled. He managed to pinch one between two fingers but the others disappeared. He felt a stabbing pain in his fingertip and looked down.
‘Ow!’ he yelled. The little creature had its pincers stuck in his fingertip.
Floyd pulled out the wriggling cipher beetle and threw it at the rock. The carved script of the last four lines shimmered. Although they didn’t change in appearance, he was able to read them.
But if, of his own accord and sight,
The Yaksha should decide to fight
And in the water, he puts light,
The contending race will lose its might.
His heart racing, Floyd repeated the words to himself a few times, until he had memorized the whole thing. He was mentioned in this. This was eerie beyond belief! The words shimmered again and although the script remained unchanged, the words became indecipherable once again. Everything worked according to different rules in this Durjipore. He bent down and hugged Chutney. Thank goodness he had this brave, sweet dog with him. His companion.
‘Come on Chutney, let’s see what’s ahead.’
Away from the wet cave entrance, the corridor widened into a large room. Without warning he tripped and sailed to the floor. Curses. He hadn’t seen that stone step. He lay there on the gravelly floor for a minute, his ankle throbbing and his green velvet cloak spread below him. What if he had sprained his ankle? Or worse, broken it?
Raising himself off the floor, he slowly put weight on his ankle. It was all right, thank goodness. He turned around and almost fell again.
A slight, dark-haired boy stood in front of him.
‘Farook?’ The figure moved as Floyd did. It was his reflection. The wall was made of a stone so smooth it looked mirrored. Blinking his tears away, he swallowed the knob in his throat and hobbled forward. Carvings of eggs, snakes, fish and trees covered the walls.
On the ceiling was a medallion in the shape of a closed eye, from which hung a thick, short chain. Indecipherable carved words circumscribed the medallion.
How he wished he had more cipher beetles!
He hesitated. There was nothing else here. What did he have to lose anyway?
He grasped the chain in his hand, took a deep breath and yanked. Slowly, the stone eye on the ceiling opened and seemed to peer at him. Suddenly, an iron gate crashed to the ground, blocking the entrance to the cave. Floyd looked around, trembling.
He was trapped inside the cave.
And Chutney?
He was on the outside, looking in.
16
The Peerless Race
Floyd rattled the gate but it remained unyielding. What an inauspicious oaf he was. Why, oh, why was his luck so bad? And of course, it didn’t help to go around pulling chains without thinking. Oh, the stupidity. Why, he could die here, in this empty cave and no one would find him! Ever.
Chutney whimpered. His cold, damp nose nuzzled Floyd’s hand through the bars. Suddenly his tail stiffened and his ears pricked. Floyd grabbed the bars
as a soft rumble shook the ground. Chutney barked furiously.
Floyd’s part of the cave heaved from side to side and vibrated. Then another lurching movement followed a clanking of chains. It was sinking, like an elevator. Why, this must be the hanging cave—his final stop on the map. The rest was up to him to find. Oh, by some coincidence his bad luck wasn’t at its full potential today. He had found it! He pulled out the map and with his finger stabbed a hole on the illustration of the hanging cave. Then he secured the map to Chutney’s collar.
‘Chutney! Go back to the ship. GO.’
Chutney’s wings emerged. He gave Floyd one last lick and, bounding to the entrance of the cave, leapt into the sky.
‘Good boy! Go!’ Chutney shot off and quickly became a speck in the sky. Floyd held on to the bars as the cave continued to shake. It heaved one last time, and just as he thought it would explode, he felt his stomach drop. With a rush of dusty air, it descended sharply.
I’m going into Chandi Mountain, alone, without my sweet Chutney, without a Varengan feather. Somebody better be looking out for me. He patted the dagger, now pushed into his belt. He fingered the compass and the whistle in his pocket and checked on the test tube Kusmati had given him in his cloak pocket.
Down he went in the musty space, the sliding chains of the elevator barely making a sound. His heart was thumping and sweat trickled down his back. Through the dark, heavy silence he descended, the air becoming warmer. He landed with a thud in a cloud of dust.
The gate that had trapped him slid open in one quick upward movement and a tunnel honeycombed with stalagmites and stalactites stretched ahead, its end swallowed in darkness. Torches flickered on the wall, casting shadows, like images on an old film reel. Wooden beams packed with hay criss-crossed the low ceiling. The hot air smelled of sulphur. The walls glowed with veins of blue sapphire and gold, just as Balsam had described.
Floyd walked down the path, looking over his shoulder, stopping every now and then to wipe sweat from his brow. It was getting colder, and the air had an unpleasant smell, like rotting fish.
Then he heard footsteps. His heart racing, he took cover behind a large stalagmite. Two figures in purple-hooded capes, carrying glittering spears, passed by, their taloned feet scratching the gravel. The one to his left pushed his hood off, and Floyd thought he would faint. The creature’s face was straight from the depths of a nightmare. It had a jar-shaped head with bluish-white skin, protuberant silver eyes and lips so red it looked as if the inside of his mouth had been pulled and rolled out. The creature grinned at his partner, showing three rows of sharp teeth. Floyd pressed his own teeth together to keep them from chattering.
Merrows. So the Merrows were involved in some secret activities inside Chandi Mountain. They had probably frozen it so the Ressuldars couldn’t come in to see what was going on. Clever. How he wished Chutney were here with him, to nuzzle against him! He willed Chutney to come back with help.
Floyd crept behind the Merrows, his heart hammering. He stayed out of view by dodging behind stalagmites until the tunnel came to an abrupt halt at a metal gate. The two Merrows opened the gate and disappeared.
A soft sound floated up to his ears. Was that laughter? And music? He edged closer. The gate was at the top of three stone steps that led down to an enormous cavern. Torches glowed behind stalactites and stalagmites, making the cavern look like a giant dinosaur mouth with fiery teeth. There was a huge column just to the side of the gate. He spied a small space between the wall of the cavern and the column. If he could slip in behind the guards, he could easily go behind that column and stay unnoticed. He held his breath, opened the gate and slipped in behind the column, his heart racing. He carefully took a look, craning his neck.
Oh, dear mother of Garuda.
Two children, human children morosely scratched at violins tucked under their chins on a stage. Hundreds of Merrows milled about, laughing and chatting. The women wore puffy dresses with pinched waists, and they were cooling themselves with hand fans. The men wore silk top hats and tailcoats; some had monocles. Floyd waited until the Merrows opened the gate, ducked in behind them, hoping no one was looking, and quickly slipped behind the column. He stood there quietly, his heart hammering. No one seemed to have noticed. He felt the rough surface of the cavern wall scrape his back and was grateful for the thick moss cloak. He put his hand in his cloak pocket and felt the tube Kusmati had given him. It felt reassuring. His stomach rumbled so loudly he thought someone might hear him. He pulled out the green bag from his other coat pocket and slowly ate the remaining pineapple curry and rice. Then he popped a tamarind tucker in his mouth and waited. More children had appeared on the stage and were playing the same mournful music.
Other children carrying trays appeared amongst the audience. All around his age, they were dressed as if for a birthday party. The girls wore sparkly dresses and coloured ribbons in their hair while their cheeks were bright red with garish rouge. They carried trays of snacks that the Merrows picked from. The boys wore smart black suits and white shirts with little bow ties. Their trays wobbled with long trumpet-shaped glasses filled with sparkling gold liquid.
He looked closely and clapped his hand over his mouth, almost choking on his tamarind tucker. Why, these were the kidnapped children! There was Raoul Shah, the maths whiz and winner of quiz competitions. Holding trays were Tina Kalimirchiwallah from three catamaran stops away, and Tara Gammerstang, who was always late to class. They looked glum. These were people from home, from his own life. He broke into a sweat. Farook had to be here. Up until now, this had just seemed like a dream. Now, the reality was undeniable. He craned his neck.
The Durjipore police were racking their brains, using every bit of their energy trying to figure out where the missing children were. No wonder they had disappeared without a trace. They had been spirited away to the middle of this mountain. Poor Papa. How he had tried to crack this mystery! But how could he? It was in a part of Durjipore no one knew existed.
A tall Merrow swaggered in, wearing a long purple frock coat and a silk top hat. He had a monocle in one hand and a white silver-tipped cane in the other.
All the Merrows rose and burst into applause. They nodded slavishly as he gave them a silky smile. The air was filled with an electric excitement. Floyd crept down the stairs unnoticed and hid behind a large column.
‘Hey you!’ a voice said. Floyd froze. Avoid. Eye. Contact.
‘Come here,’ the Merrow addressed Tina Kalimirchiwallah. He took a snack from her tray and sauntered off.
Tina walked over to the column. Floyd’s heart raced. Surely she had seen him. But Tina was just resting. She leaned against the column. Floyd could see the beads of sweat on her neck.
‘Psst, Tina,’ he whispered.
She turned, her eyes wide. She wore a pinafore dress with a white ruffled shirt under it and childish little red bows clipped on to her black, plaited hair. ‘Farook. You’d better get back in your clothes,’ she said.
‘Listen to me, Tina. It’s me, Floyd,’ he said softly, his voice tight, trying to calm his whirling thoughts.
‘Very funny,’ she whispered, searching his face. She gasped as she looked into his eyes. ‘How did you—’?
‘Where’s Farook?’ He shook her shoulders.
The metal plate on her pinafore read 93. ‘Floyd. Get away if you can. Whatever you do, don’t let them see you,’ she said, her voice thick with tears. ‘If they do, there’s no hope.’
‘She’s quite right you know, Yaksha,’ a cold voice said.
Floyd wheeled around. The Merrow stood at least seven feet tall in his purple tailcoat. The same Merrow that had just walked in to applause. Strings of rice pearls spilled over his ruffled shirt. He raised his hand and two guards grabbed Floyd’s arms. In seconds his pockets were emptied and the dagger, compass, whistle and bag of food removed. The guard looked at the tube of light and guffawed. He shoved it back into the pocket, sniggering. No matter, Floyd thought. He was grateful for the warmth
of the cloak.
The Merrow pulled out his monocle and examined Floyd’s eyes as he struggled uselessly against the grip of the guards. He bowed to Floyd. ‘Phineas Puddleton—vice chancellor of the Merrow community.’
Floyd shivered. The Merrow’s voice was perfectly calm, civilized and deadly.
‘Good to finally meet you, Yaksha.’ The Merrow spoke with exaggerated charm, making an elaborate curve in the air with his hand. His silver eyes were cold, like those of a freshly-caught fish.
‘So you tried to kidnap me? But you took Farook instead.’ Floyd marvelled at the steadiness of his own voice.
‘An unfortunate delay, but here you are,’ Phineas Puddleton said. ‘No matter, though. Your presence during our festivities is not only welcome, it is obligatory.’
‘Where’s my brother?’ Floyd demanded.
‘Ah yes, the twin. You came to rescue him. Very touching.’ Phineas grinned, looking around the room. The other Merrows tittered.
‘Where is he?’ Floyd said. ‘Tell me or—’
‘Or what? You’ll whistle for your mutt?’ Phineas laughed. ‘Where is he anyway?’
Floyd felt an icy shiver snake down his spine. Thank Garuda Chutney wasn’t here. He would have tried to attack this Merrow and would surely have been overpowered.
Phineas laughed. ‘We’re not really dog people, you know. By the way, your twin is safe.’
‘Well, well. Who do we have here?’ a harsh voice asked. A tall Merrow woman stepped out of the crowd towards them. Floyd felt his heart stop for a moment. She looked like the woman from his visions—but a bit different. Her features were coarser, her dreadlocks shoulder-length and her body seemed chunky compared to the other. There was a resemblance, nonetheless.
‘The gracious Revia, sister to the Empress Shaitana and second in line to the Merrow throne,’ Phineas announced.
The woman sneered at Floyd, showing three rows of wickedly sharp teeth. Her brilliant purple cloak swirled around her and she wore a diamond tiara on her head.