Divine Madness

by Harmon Cooper

  Altan looked to the bird and from there to Bobby. He said something to Lhandon and moved over to the fallen man, helping Bobby to our campsite.

  “Praise all the gods!” Lhandon said, bowing his head at Roger. “Is it so? How can it be? We were certain you were dead! This is uncanny, this is unheard of!”

  “Seriously?” Roger cackled. “You guys don’t know the old get-shot-by-an-arrow-and-grab-it-with-your-feet-and-tuck-it-under-your-wing trick birds do all the time here in Lhasa?”

  “Wait, what?” I asked, still not able to contain my excitement.

  “What’s he saying, Nick?”

  “He says that he faked his own death.”

  “That trick is like one of the first things I learned in bird school,” Roger said, still flapping in the air, his beak lifting into a wide grin. “Someone shoots an arrow at you, you pretend that this person got you, and you fall into a tree somewhere. Then this guy—let’s call him an asshole because he clearly is for hunting birds in the first place—anyway, this asshole starts looking for you, and while this asshole is looking for you, you fly away using the foliage as cover. It is seriously the oldest trick in the book.”

  “Then why didn’t you wake up when I took your feather?” I asked him.

  “Heh, about that. I knocked myself out. Apparently, I don’t have as much grace as I thought I had.”

  “How did he do it, Nick?”

  I pantomimed what it would look like to catch an arrow with one’s arm and fake fall.

  “What a clever birdy!”

  “First, it’s bird, and second, a bird usually has a tree to cushion its fall, but I didn’t have a tree, so I hit the ground instead. My fall hurt, believe me, and it knocked me out. To be honest, I’m glad I don’t have a concussion, and I’m equally thankful I didn’t get stepped on.”

  “It is a karmic blessing!” Lhandon exclaimed.

  “I woke up and you guys were long gone. There was fire everywhere, one of Sona’s half-naked ninja lady guards was moving past me, you get the picture, so I just took off. I was going to fly away too, but then I saw this guy,” he said, using his wing almost as if it were a thumb to point in Bobby’s direction.

  “And this was at night?” I asked.

  “Something like that. More like twilight, to be honest. There was madness everywhere, especially once all the slaves found out that Mabel had been offed by you, Nick. I would have just flown away, and I was planning to meet you guys at the monastery, to surprise you there, but like I said, I saw your friend lost in one of the fields, clearly searching for a way out. He never spoke to me. As you can tell, he’s not coherent. I had to pretend I was a hallucination just to keep him following me.”

  “You pretended you were a hallucination?” I asked him, ignoring the wide-eyed look on Lhandon’s face as he tried to piece together what we were talking about based on my questions.

  “I sure did. I kept scaring him, and landing on his shoulder, biting at his ear, that sort of thing. So not a great hallucination. There were a couple times that I had to beat him a little bit with my wings. Not too hard though. For a minute there, I thought I was going to have to feed him, you know, bird-style, but he didn’t seem hungry. He did shit himself a few times, but that was to be expected.”

  “And why were you coming this way?” I asked, confirming my next sentence with Lhandon. “This is the path that leads to Darkhan Mountains.”

  “I knew Sona was after you guys, and she would likely come with a big enough force to take the main route. I was trying to lead your friend here in a different way, but as you can tell, he is a bird and I am a human, wait no, I am a bird and he is a human,” Roger said, winking at me. “To be clear, and this is probably something I should have asked earlier: this is indeed your friend, Bobby, is it not?”

  “Yes, Bobby,” I said hurriedly, still trying to contain my excitement in seeing Roger seemingly back from the dead.

  “That’s what I figured. You said Hugo was a soldier or something; he definitely wasn’t the guy who tried to shoot me with an arrow, because I remember that smoldering lump of boiled donkey cock. And mark my words, judgment day is upon the man who tried to shoot me down. I’m capable of killing someone, you know that, Nick.”

  I nodded, an image of Evan flashing in my mind. “That you are.”

  “Anyway, I knew it wasn’t him, and I didn’t think it was your soldier friend, and there was the other guy…”

  “Tom, but for all we know, he drowned in the Sea of Lhasa.”

  “So it couldn’t be Tom either. So I was right in calling him Bobby. I guess I should confess now: I was calling him a lot of other things too, including a couple derogatory bird phrases I prefer not to say in front of the monk even if he can’t understand me. But anyway, I figured if I just kept him walking in the direction of the monastery, I would eventually get him there. So that’s how we ended up in this pass.”

  “And you have stumbled upon us…”

  “I wouldn’t say I stumbled,” Roger told me. “I heard some talking, and I flew up and saw you all down here. But anyway, that’s my story. And thank you for hoping to go after my reincarnation,” Roger said, bowing his head at me. “That is very kind of you, Nick; and I would have done the same for you.”

  “I know you would have.”

  “But you have to admit, there was no telling what I would reincarnate as. For all you knew, you might have had to take care of a baby bear or a venomous mountain possum for the next ten years until I was cognizant enough to speak.”

  “What’s he saying?” Lhandon asked. After I summarized our conversation including the last bit Roger had said, the monk nodded. “We were prepared to make that… sacrifice.”

  “I’m just glad to find someone else to take care of Bobby, because I’m clearly not equipped to do so.” Roger looked to his wings. “Speaking of bears, we are so lucky we didn’t get attacked by a bear, or snow lion, or an evil spirit for that matter. We did run into a spotted deer that was giving us a lot of shit, but that’s a story for another day. Did you guys finish cooking something?”

  I nodded.

  “Have anything left?”

  “I’m sure we can find something,” I said as Roger followed me over to the fire.

  We passed Altan, who was now working with Tashi to quickly blacken some of the plants he’d pulled from the ground. As Roger picked the meat off one of the rabbit bones, I joined Altan to see what he was concocting.

  “It’s a salve,” he explained. “Hopefully, it will help.”

  Tashi nodded. “I’ve never seen someone having these types of withdrawals from lotus, but this drug wasn’t as popular when I was a human.”

  “I’ve only seen this a few times,” Altan said as Tashi continued to burn down some of the leaves and roots Altan had picked, the faint smell of burnt rubber reaching my nostrils. He had set the plants on a rock, the material boiling, and hardening into a fine paste. “It may get worse; we’re going to have to constantly take care of him.”

  “I’m sorry…” I started to tell Altan.

  “Nonsense. If we can nurse him back to health, he may offer us some insight into what was happening at Mabel’s, that is, if he can remember. Aside from that, he is your friend. Aside from that…”

  “Karma.”

  Altan nodded. “Probably the same reason the bird was so eager to lead him to us.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, looking back to Roger. “He sort of has his own agenda.”

  “You would know better than I.” He returned his focus to Bobby. “Hopefully this will do the trick. It will at least keep him asleep for a while as he recovers. We’re going to have to figure out a way to carry him up to the mountains with us. Moving into a higher altitude, with the air thinner than it normally is, means we won’t be able to carry him, or anything like that. Any ideas?”

  I looked to Gansukh, who had taken the role of a translator between Lhandon and Roger.

  “I have something in mind.”


  Chapter Seven: Say My Name

  Maybe there would be a time where we would look back at this and laugh.

  We were a pretty odd group: a girthy monk, a fire spirit, a former slave, a tropical bird, an outsider from Massachusetts, and an ice spirit who had concocted an ice sled, in which rested another man from Massachusetts, a middle school teacher.

  The sled was partially due to Altan’s ingenuity.

  After I told him of my idea about how we could cart Bobby around, he quickly went about making rope out of bark from the Dorj tree that was sturdy enough to actually pull a melting sled of ice over hard gravel. Every thirty minutes or so, Gansukh would stop to strengthen the sled, but other than that it had worked, relieving us of the burden of actually having to carry someone.

  As we moved into the Darkhan Mountains, Roger now on my shoulder, the temperature started to change and the air grew thinner.

  There was less vegetation up here, lots of rock and narrow paths too. At one point we came across an altar decorated with colorful prayer flags, Lhandon stopping before it to prostrate and say a prayer.

  Other than that, and the occasional sign of an animal through either its droppings or the bones a predator left behind, our journey was pretty uneventful.

  As we continued onward, Roger eventually launched into a story about another bird he knew.

  “He really liked them big,” Roger said, “like pigeon-fat. But the thing was, he was a scrawny guy. I mean, this bird was like half my size, so you should have seen him next to some of these big gals. He had this dance he did, too, sort of jumping around on the ground and flashing his tail feathers. Really over the top. I know that these types of dances attract females, every bird knows that, but there are some beautiful birds who simply want a mate who is good at conversation.”

  “And that would be you, right?” I asked him.

  “Exactly. Look, there are better bird schools than the one I went to, sure, but mine was one of the top, and there’s much more that a bird should do to impress a lady than dancing around shaking its bum. I mean, have some self-respect, right? But anyway, this bird I know, you should have seen this guy, Nick. You wouldn’t believe the number of ladies he courted at once. He spread his seed all over the jungles near the Sea of Lhasa. He got chased out of there so many times, ha! But he did get himself plenty of tail feather, if you get my drift.”

  I started laughing. “I think I do.”

  “What is he saying to you?” Lhandon asked, turning back to us.

  He had stopped to take a breather, allowing Roger and me to catch up. The monk wiped the few beads of sweat from his brow, sucked in a deep breath, and smiled at us.

  “He’s telling me a story about birds, nothing that you would be, um, very interested in.”

  Roger seemed to think otherwise. “I think the fat monk would like the story. If he were a bird, he would probably be about the same size as the pigeons my friend liked. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being too cruel to him because he can’t understand me. But anyway, this guy I know, as I said, he was getting a lot of tail feather, much more than any bird in his right mind could need or possibly want. And then he messed with the wrong chick. Literally. She was underage; although she was still big-boned, she definitely wasn’t legal. Anyway, her dad found out, and when my buddy came around, her dad swooped down from the tree, pecked one of his eyes out, and proceeded to beat the shit out of him too.”

  “So he was blind after that?”

  “I really would like to know what you are talking about,” Lhandon said, looking from Roger to me. “It sounds fascinating.”

  “‘Somewhat depraved’ is how I would describe it,” I told the monk.

  “He sure was, but only in one eye. It really messes up a bird’s trajectory to be blind in one eye. So he sort of flew at a tilt.” Roger lifted off my shoulder to show me what he meant. “Like he had taken a bath in a barrel of chung. And I thought that was the end of his lady-mongering days. I was certain that he was gonna settle down with one of these pigeons, become a family man, you know, that sort of thing.”

  “So what happened?”

  “Well, the weird way that he flew attracted even more women, believe it or not. And his dance? Now his dance sort of had this swagger to it.” Roger dropped to the ground, trying to show me what he meant. He hopped around, striking one of his feathers against the ground like he was having a seizure.

  “What a fascinating dance,” Lhandon exclaimed.

  “See? He gets it. And I swear, my buddy got even more tail feather than before his disability. Which goes to show you that confidence is king,” he said, returning to my shoulder. “It really wasn’t about his dance, or his crappy yellow feathers and the way he could shake them in a mesmerizing way. It was about his confidence.”

  “I suppose confidence is important,” I said. “Do you know where he is now?”

  Roger shrugged. “He got eaten by a jaguar. We told him not to hang out in the jungle, especially during the jaguar mating season. But he wouldn’t listen, so in a way, he sort of flew too close to the sun.”

  “My world has a saying about that as well.” I watched Altan pause and examine a colorful patch of moss growing around a pile of small rocks.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Something we should take. Once I run out of the salve I’ve made for your friend, we can try some of this. If I’m not mistaken, it has similar properties,” he said, looking up at me.

  “Thank you for taking care of him.”

  “It is my pleasure. Coming off a lotus addiction is one of the hardest things a person can do, and it’s only going to get worse before it gets better.”

  I looked to Bobby in the ice sled, curled in a fetal position, his hand twitching.

  To think that I had known this man for so long, and he had been reduced to this…

  Our walk continued, growing steeper and steeper as the sun started to set. At some point, Lhandon placed his hands on his hips and called up to Gansukh, asking it to slow down.

  “What do you think?” he asked the ice spirit. “Do you think we can find a cave around here? And more importantly, do you think you will be able to connect to the overall system? The book is somewhere in these mountains, and I’m counting on you to help us find it swiftly.”

  “Absolutely. I can go out on my own tomorrow,” Gansukh said, its breath visible as it spoke, “while you search the easier to reach spaces.”

  “Fantastic idea.” Lhandon rubbed his hands together.

  It took us another twenty-minute walk or so, but we eventually found a cave opening that was shielded from the wind by a huge stone. After Gansukh and Tashi went inside to clear it out, they invited us in.

  There were markings on the wall, as if someone had been keeping count of something. The ceilings were high, yet the space was cozy and dry. And as soon as we got a fire started, the cave warmed nicely.

  Gansukh went out in search of meat, and eventually returned with a mountain goat, its head frozen.

  “Now that is good eating,” Roger said as he watched Altan butcher the creature.

  Roger went for a few choice bits, eating them raw while Altan and Lhandon figured out a way to arrange the rocks so they could cook on top of them.

  With Tashi in our group, it was easy to keep the fire going; at Altan’s suggestion, he was able to char the meat to the point where it had a crisp bark on the outside, yet remained soft and juicy on the inside.

  We ate, saving some of the meat for breakfast, Roger so full toward the end that he rolled over onto his back, both wings fanned out and laying on his stomach.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bird lay like that,” I said.

  He slowly turned his head toward me. “I feel like one of those pigeons I was telling you about…”

  “You’d better be careful. Your friend’s ghost is going to find you and…”

  Roger cackled, startling Altan. “You have a sick mind, Nick, but a damn good sense of humor.”

&nb
sp; I looked to Gansukh, to see it hovering near the entrance. “I will keep guard outside,” the ice spirit announced to the group. “Hopefully, we will find the book tomorrow.”

  Lhandon nodded. “And I’ll keep my promise to you,” he told the ice spirit. “We find the book and you’re free to go.”

  Gansukh nodded, bits of snow swirling around it as it slipped out of the cave.

  After washing his hands in some ice that Tashi had melted for us, the monk waited until his hands were dry and finally went for the letters that Baatar had written him.

  I watched quietly as he read through them, Lhandon pinching the bridge of his nose at one point, trying to contain his excitement.

  “It makes sense,” Lhandon whispered, once he was finished. “He has given me a foundation for codifying the Path of the Divine in a way that will not only increase a person’s karma, but also allow them to use the power they have cultivated for runic practices, and other acts of piety. I just need time to figure out the other pieces. He knew, Nick! Baatar knew all along it was possible, and that’s not all he knew…”

  “Yes?”

  Lhandon brought the papers up and pressed them against his forehead, bowing ever so slightly. “He knew the attack was going to happen that night. He wrote the first part of the letter before coming down from the mountain; the second part he wrote in his room back at the monastery after his transmission, giving me the final instructions.”

  “He must have written them before he went out to meditate in the courtyard,” Altan said.

  “Most assuredly. Baatar was wise beyond his years, a Divine Master. Without this leg up…” Lhandon shook his head. “He knew they were coming,” he said again, the light from the fire flickering across his eyes. “And he has further instructions for us.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Nick, we need you to call Saruul. The Book of the Immortals is in Dornod, the snow lion village.”

  “Saaaa-Ruuuullleeee-Ahhhhh…” I said three times, my voice just above a whisper.