by Susi Wright
Confident to trust his intuition, Luminor was now in full agreement with himself about the idea of rescue, but his plan did not include enlisting anyone else’s help, human or Gaian, necessitating only the use of his own supernatural skills, which of course he could not allow to be witnessed. Nor could he act on it immediately as, for one thing, he would have to watch over Chadren, protecting him from wild animals until a passing wagon could be waved down to carry him safely to Splendo. The other problem was the ever-watchful inner and outer eye of Thunis. He was going to risk much in this mission.
As Chadren lapsed in and out of consciousness, Luminor assured him, ‘I track them, later. Do not fear. Rest now.’
Disguised, with his hooded cloak wrapped tightly around him, not unusual with the chill of the autumn wind blowing, he managed to hail a passing farmer and explain, in halting dialect, Chadren’s urgent need for transport to the city. The kind man agreed he would make all haste, bound that way anyway with just a few baskets of corn for market, which left room for Chadren to lie in the back of the cart. Covering him with a blanket, Luminor bid him farewell and thanked the farmer as he urged his old samblar forward and, with the entire outfit creaking noisily, trundled off into the misty shroud of the woodland byway.
Luminor’s attention returned to his decision to rescue the girl from a probably unspeakable fate. He was troubled and mystified by the powerful compulsion he felt towards this particular human, when there had been many past opportunities for both brothers to help other humans, which had been relatively easy to resist, and thereby to obey their father. Lately he had felt guilty, having such radically different ideas from Thunis’, always having to mask his thoughts. In private, he visualised constantly using his skills to help the less fortunate. In fact, he had a sense deep down that he had real purpose there. One day, when I am chief… things will be different, he mused, almost certain he was far enough away to avoid the reach of his father’s honed perception, and making of that statement a promise to all the unnamed future victims of circumstance that he would help when that day came.
Chapter Thirteen
The problem of Luminor’s impending absence from the clan was going to have to be explained. During the flight home, he had time to devise a credible reason to be gone for a period of time. Luminor’s skills were developing rapidly. He had already become quite adept at the ability to mentally cloak some of his deeper feelings, particularly necessary in the presence of Thunis. On arrival at their camp, he would immediately seek out his father, carefully keeping all other dubious intention masked, to ceremoniously announce he was about to embark on his spiritual sojourn to the rarely visited and remote Northern Mountains. This ritual became due as soon as a young Gaian had felt the stirrings of perception, and wished to gain maturity in this power. Few individuals acquired this level early in their lives, some never. Lately, Thunis was quietly proud of Luminor’s development. He had growing confidence that Luminor would be a unique and special chief. Traditionally, a father would accompany his son as far as the entrance of the deep granite caves in Mount Varn, perform a coming-of-age incantation and relinquish the familial perceptive Link between them, so the young initiate’s adult perceptions could develop fully. This separation would last ten moonrises, which Luminor hoped would be enough time to accomplish the rescue, and Thunis would not have an inkling of suspicion about his activities.
One of the aspects of the Link, especially with a powerful elder like Thunis, that would have proven to be inconvenient to Luminor’s plan, was that large unauthorised disturbances of natural energy could be detected. This ability was lessened during Thunis’ short hours of deep sleep, the only reason Altor got so far into his mischief when he tried to steal the gem. In extreme circumstances, although complete telepathy was not possible, Thunis could intensify the Link to convey his will into the mind of another. The few days of Relinquishment would afford Luminor the freedom to exert as much energy as necessary to rescue the girl, without detection.
The only setback was, of course, having to first go north, under escort of his father and be seen entering the caves.
During their swift flight to the mountains, Luminor’s anticipation and secret resolve appeared, to the elder man, as nothing more than a new sense of purpose and maturity. In their lessons, the young Gaians had been taught that later in their progress, the skills used to perceive, or understand things, in certain particularly sensitive individuals, could be used in reverse, to confuse or confound an opponent in battle, or to calm, thereby completely avoiding confrontation.
Almost as an afterthought, it came to Luminor, as they landed on the cliffs of Mount Varn in the Northern Mountains, that this initial time in seclusion would by all accounts be beneficial to his perceptive powers and therefore all future missions. So, impatient though he was to embark on the rescue, he dutifully followed through with the ceremony at the entrance to the caves, a vague feeling of unease germinating, which at first he guessed might be due to his deceit.
He jumped mentally, instantly hiding his guilt, as behind him Thunis issued a dark warning, ‘Heed this, my son! You face great danger and turmoil, both in these caves… and beyond! May the Ancestors be with you!’ Relinquishing the Link, and deliberately throwing down the first challenge of the sojourn by leaving Luminor without explanation and perplexed by his meaning, Thunis raised his cloak and took flight southwards.
Feeling at once both free for the first time in his life and, conversely, totally alone to deal with whatever peril was to come, he turned to the gaping mouth of the cave, and entered the consuming darkness.
Chapter Fourteen
While he was alone in the cool blackness of the caves, the silence gave him the chance to start detailing his plan for the rescue. He would begin by tracking the gang from where he last saw them, leaving exactly what he would do when he found them, to intuition. Avoiding detection the main priority, there were countless scenarios. Wind gusts, carefully aimed, could disarm a disorientated opponent. Cloak-flying would enable him to snatch her up from their clutches, but she would probably be afraid, might struggle and risk falling, if he could not calm her for long enough. Many of his skills, especially the newer ones, up until now, were only ever used singly, and for short periods. He was starting to see the challenges ahead, of combining powers and maintaining the effects for longer. If he was lucky, the rescue would be over in a few heartbeats and before it was necessary to fight or kill any of the thieves, something for which he was well equipped and ready but which would be his last resort, as he would rather they were brought to proper justice in the courts of Baram.
Deep in thought, he entered a large cavern, the size of the space and the stalactites outlined by the dim illumination coming from the presence of giant glow-worms clinging to the rock walls; their fat bodies flashing in concert bathed everything with an eerie green light. He took a moment to appreciate this marvel of Nature; the diversity of her wonders never ceased to amaze . . .
The dark tunnel in which he had descended from the outside towards the deeper caves had actually been in part an abandoned mine, the gem-seam depleted decades ago, and the miners who had lived in the valley below had long ago moved further along the ranges to the west, to Malto village, where they had found richer pickings.
As he had stepped into the cathedral-like space, he had noticed a strange, pungent odour, something like what he and Altor had smelled when they had discovered a bat-cave while exploring as boys. There were no bats nesting here now, as he knew it was daylight outside for hours yet, and all bats would still be roosting. Whatever lived here was gone, not long ago. Whether it would come back was a concern.
It crossed his mind, in a brief moment of trepidation probably caused by his father’s last words as he left Luminor on the ledge, the possibility that it could be the sleeping place of one of the rare kudros beasts, one of the most feared beasts in history. These giant, diurnal bat-like creatures had attacked his father and clan many years ago, before he was born. No one
had seen a kudros for decades. He had certainly never seen one, and having been hunted relentlessly for many years, they were generally thought to be extinct, even by Gaians with their acute awareness of Nature, so he dismissed the notion, and crossed to the far side of the cavern to refresh himself in the clear pool occupying that part of the floor space.
The rocks that edged the pond were large, flat, and perfect for sitting to collect his thoughts anew. Some quiet contemplation would allow him to tune in to perception, the more advanced skill he was obliged to develop during the sojourn. The solitude and separation from all else naturally enhanced and consolidated this faculty. At this stage, all that would be required was focus and meditation for a few hours at a time. His sense of duty called to him, so there he remained still, eyes closed, clear of thought, mind open, this time for many hours lost to counting.
Chapter Fifteen
As the hours passed unnoticed, Luminor felt his mind transitioning from physical awareness to complete peace, to a different plane that transcended place and reached out in ever-increasing distance. He had felt brief flashes of this new faculty recently. It was Projection, a skill he would need to use for calming or confusing another being. Reaching this state quickly, and controlling it, was an art, as were all the Powers. He had already felt, on a number of occasions, the initial compelling intrusions of perception that came through receptivity, the first level of understanding. Deciphering these intrusions would become increasingly easy after this pilgrimage, and he now appreciated how important the sojourn was to his future. A future which he visualised within this projective meditation, stretching out before him, full of unnamed but noble purpose.
Something irritating tickled the edge of his awareness, disturbing his grand visualisation. Then, unbidden, and startling in intensity, a dangerous presence began to form and grow in his senses, silently advancing. Keeping his attention tuned to the threat, he opened his eyes, just as the comforting glow of the worms snuffed out, in unison, leaving him in complete darkness. ‘So, you know it too!’ He whispered, ‘What is it?’ more to himself, not expecting an answer from the insects.
The premonition gave him time to prepare for danger, nocking an arrow into his bow and crouching in readiness for a creature which he could discern was fast approaching through the tunnels. A little nervous but more excited, never shying from a challenge that would test his skills, and lead to improvement, he concealed himself behind a large boulder to wait for the living being he felt getting closer by the second. Knowing instinctively that it was large and powerful but it was completely unaware of his presence meant he would have the element of surprise on his side. That he could not identify its exact form mattered not. He was ready.
Its breath preceded it. A hot glowing-orange vapour illuminated the huge serpentine head that appeared at the entrance on the far side of the cavern. It advanced, its scaled body followed, slithering behind as it coiled into the space, almost filling the massive cave. Luminor was only metres from one of the coils as it settled into its lair to sleep. He now knew this was the legendary pyrothon, exactly as described in the ancient stories, a very dangerous opponent for even the most skilled Gaian.
He would have to act quickly, hoping his speed would help confound it, hoping desperately his newly born, and unpractised, projective skill would calm it enough to at least slow down its reactions when he attacked. This creature was notoriously difficult to kill. He was not sure, even if he managed to fire off all ten of his arrows, and they hit their mark, whether it would do the job. If not, he would revert to powers of evasion, using flight alone. He focussed on calming, extremely difficult in such a tense situation.
In a heartbeat, he fired three arrows in quick succession; two bounced off the iron-clad scaly hide. The giant adder bucked from the stinging pain; his attempt to calm it seemed shaky at best. He quickly climbed the boulder separating him from the creature, and leapt onto its back, letting fly a few more arrows finding their mark between the scales, as he ran along the coils. By now, the creature’s pain was starting to win over Luminor’s ability to calm, and it was becoming more and more agitated, trying to shake off the annoying darts. Seconds later, Luminor was close to the head, intending to put arrows into its eyes, but before he could redraw his bow, the beast started shaking its head violently, determined to rid itself of the attacker, its rage now overpowering Luminor’s mental skills.
He was suddenly flung airborne, saved only by his lightning reflex to raise his cloak and use the turbulence to fly safely behind the monster. But it turned, half crazy with pain, looking for him, and finding him with its piercing gaze. His target in sight, but himself a target, Luminor desperately fired off his remaining two arrows, to no avail. The beast was so strong and fast, he missed both eyes and, with that, his last chance to incapacitate his opponent. The adder was recoiling to strike with fire. For a split second, he was completely vulnerable. Then he swooped up to avoid the creature’s flaming breath.
The roiling movement of the huge body, several times, almost pinned him to the ground, sure death, and when he flew up out of that danger, the adder caught sight of him and blew a fiery blast from its fanged jaws, barely missing him in the confined space. Suddenly he noticed the hem of his cloak was on fire; the oily feathers would burn quickly. He needed water to douse the flames, and reluctantly admitting his combatant resources were exhausted, that victory was probably lost to him, for today anyway, that evasion was now the best course, he used the pond beside him, as he swooped and dived headlong towards it to save his cloak and escape the flames aimed relentlessly at him. He plunged into the pool, focussing on the deep underground spring that fed it, summoning a gushing flow, which bubbled up into the cave with him immersed, becoming a rapid stream that flowed past the monster into the tunnel on the far side of the cavern, and out the way he had come. Tossed around like a leaf but fully in control of the flow, and able, like most Gaians, to hold breath underwater for long periods, he rode the stream carrying him swiftly to safety, the roars of the angry beast in the cave drowned out by the roar of water in his ears. Out of the cave entrance, he kept the water flowing over the cliff edge, as a waterfall, and all the way down the mountainside, tumbling painfully over the scree slope, coming breathlessly to the surface in a pool at base of the mountain. He swam to the water’s edge and dragged himself out onto the bank, exhausted but grateful to be alive.
Taking off his sodden but salvaged cloak, he shook off the excess water and replaced it around his shoulders. The initial relief at his survival gave way to a lingering disappointment at failing to kill the flame adder, so obviously a deadly threat to the entire region, and leaving the haunting question in his mind: Was he supposed to have succeeded? But with the insistent desire to rescue the captive girl his priority, he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. He did not have long before his father would suspect his activities.
Chapter Sixteen
Tracking had been easy at first, the ruts quite obvious, leading from the damp gully where Luminor had seen the captive girl and her captors, towards the south. He expected they would be heading for the Capital or Splendo, large cities where there was a good price for everything. Trade was lucrative there for any scoundrel with contraband to sell, black-market gems high on the list, but also human slaves, male and female, not a happy fate for anyone unlucky enough to be captured and sold.
The tracks were fading as the road became dusty, veering off into a clearing where they had probably camped, but the ashes from the campfire were at least two days old. Frustration crept in; he was losing perception of the girl the further away the gang moved. He knew back on the road a few leagues away was a crossroads, each direction led to a major town, so without tracks, he would not be sure which route they had chosen.
He cast around for clues, something that might help him, quite sure the raiders had camped here. He came upon an old pair of worn-out boots that had been discarded. Tokens like these, if they did indeed belong to a gang member, with some a
ura still present, could assist in tracking. Then fortune really smiled when he noticed a lacy kerchief caught on the bushes, embroidered with an ‘F’. He remembered Chadren called his daughter’s name, Fralii—that was it. Convinced the items now in his possession would assimilate a closer link with his quarry, he could now continue quickly, almost on instinct alone!
At the crossroads, his tokens tucked securely in a bag at his waist, he was able to perceive their destination was the Capital. So cloak-flying in earnest now, he made up much of the time he had lost in the caves.
As he soared on the breeze, high above the road and to one side, being careful no other travellers saw him, he reflected on his encounter with the flame adder. He felt a certain pride that he had been able to exert calm on the beast, even if only temporarily. He remembered from his lessons the skill could only be mastered by those with acute mental perception, usually only after years of practice, by those with only the purest intention, and he had no idea of how that was measured. But it gave him confidence, nonetheless, in his burgeoning powers to control the elements of Nature. The mental image of the monster was still vivid, its sheer size and strength, silver-glistening scales, and golden snake-eyes, breathing fire as it searched him out in the cave. There was no creature like it in all the realms of Nature, at least in this world. Ironically, he found himself unable to resist admiring the terrible beauty of the flame adder, fascinated by its fiery power, and knowing then that they would meet again, that his fate and that of the creature were somehow intertwined.
Chapter Seventeen
A few short days of hard riding had brought Simban and Spirit back to Splendo. The lively young black samblar had well proved his worth as a sure-footed and fast, reliable mount. As they were resting little, the pace had been punishing, but both samblar and rider had stood the test, arriving tired but safe in record time, mid-morning on the third day.