by Perrin Briar
The entrance hall was large enough to put Jera’s parents’ whole house in. The roots of a tree were growing through the ceiling, hanging down to the floor, just managing to touch the granite, where tiny golden tiles of what had once been a mosaic lay scattered. Male and female Goleuni statues stood side by side, tall and proud and regal, armed with studious papers, scrolls and books.
Dust fell from the cracks in the ceiling like a veil before their eyes. A block from the roof fell and smashed on the floor. The whole temple shook as the ground beneath them roiled. Jera and Elian grabbed a column each until the shaking stopped. Elian peeled his fingers from the pillar.
“Have we stopped?” Elian said.
“I think so.”
“I’m going to be sick. I must have motion sickness.”
“Do you feel sick when you ride a horse?” Jera said.
“No.”
“Then you don’t have motion sickness.”
“There are different types of motion sickness.”
“And they’re all about being in motion. That’s why you get sick.”
“Do we have to argue about this now?”
Elian took a few deep cleansing breaths and leaned against a pillar.
“What happened here?” he said. “I thought this was meant to be a great city? Where did they all go?”
“Their city was destroyed,” Jera said. “Maybe they never rebuilt it. Come on, let’s go look for this chain.”
They walked down a corridor that had its own indoor stream. By the light that filtered through a hole in the far wall, they came across a long screen covered in writing. The letters were written in a studious hand, each entry beginning with a number.
“It’s the Old Tongue,” Jera said.
“Can you read it?” Elian said.
“Yes, but it will take a little time.”
Jera’s eyes moved from word to word, her lips moving, a look of intense concentration etched on her face. She stood there for some time, until finally she blinked and let out an emotional breath.
“Well?” Elian said. “What does it say?”
“It’s a history of the Goleuni who built this temple,” Jera said. “Every year the high priest wrote what the civilisation had achieved. As you can see, at the beginning there were few developments, but as the years ticked by they accumulated faster and faster. But it says it all began when they were entrusted with a great golden chain. Literally it says, ‘WE HAVE BEEN ENTRUSTED WITH A GREAT TREASURE’.
“Honoured at having been chosen from amongst all the peoples and creatures of the world, the jungle tribes sought to unify themselves into a single people, one tribe. They united all their skilled tradesmen and put aside old rivalries. They worked together. The chain stood for peace and tranquillity for all Goleuni. There were no wars and no fighting. A perfect society. It took one hundred years of development before they matched the greatest human cities.
“Then they developed more, neglecting almost no area of science. Human nations heard of a growing power in the Rumble Jungle and sent emissaries. They wished to trade knowledge. But the only knowledge the Goleuni lacked was the knowledge they did not want: warfare. So instead, in an act of kindness, the Goleuni exchanged their knowledge for cheap resources. But the Goleuni were afraid to give everything they had learned all at once, knowing the humans would use it to create weapons for destruction. And so they rationed out the information, giving it piece by piece to the cities who wanted them.
“But the humans became agitated. They didn’t think they should have been treated equally. Those with the greatest power demanded more because they wanted to remain in power, while those with least power said they should get more to catch up with the more powerful cities, and so the City of Goleuni stopped giving any knowledge at all. The human cities, angered by this decision, conspired against the City of Goleuni and did what the Goleuni had attempted to instigate all along: to work as one.
“The humans attacked with their combined strength and superior knowledge of weaponry and destroyed the City of Goleuni. Only this temple, that moves at will around the jungle, was spared because the humans could not find it. The aggressors took the knowledge they wanted and returned to their home cities. But the City of Goleuni never returned to its full majesty. When the Goleuni lost their city they also lost their purpose.
“That’s where it ends,” Jera said. “The last word here,” she pointed to a single word, carved roughly with a piece of flint in an unskilled hand, “this is the Old Tongue word for ‘return’. They returned to the jungle. The Goleuni in the jungle are the same Goleuni who built the city. Their ancestors just gave up.”
They were silent for a moment, letting the tragic history of the temple and the Goleuni sink in.
“They should have developed their defences,” Elian said. “They should have developed weapons.”
“They didn’t believe in war,” Jera said, shaking her head. “This version of events is a little different to the one we are taught.”
“History is written by the victors. Isn’t that what they say?”
“Maybe after all this is over we can reveal the truth about the Goleuni to the world.”
“Maybe. But first we have to save the world. Come on.”
Chapter Ten
They approached a giant pair of doors, the once vibrant red colour now peeling and faint. One stood ajar as if knocked open in haste. They squeezed through it into the next room.
“Wow,” Jera said, voice echoing.
“Sh,” Elian said. “Someone will hear you.”
Jera leaned in close and whispered.
“Wow,” she said. “This is amazing.”
There was less detritus over the throne room floor than in the other rooms they’d seen. The roof was still intact, the mosaic covering the entire surface, displaying a scene of peace between humans and creatures. A man with long brown hair clapped his hand on the shoulder of a tree-like creature made up of sticks and twigs.
There were two huge thrones at the back of the room. Nature had long since reclaimed them, flowers blossoming up the arm and backrests, the cushions chewed and full of holes. But what was mounted to the wall high above them was what really grabbed their attention.
A thick elongated circle was embossed on the wall, a snake’s body, its head swallowing its own tail, making a complete circle, and cradled within its coiled embrace was a chain shining with a familiar golden light, like a new penny in the bottom of a wishing well.
Elian put his foot on a throne and stepped on it. The cushion was not straight and had lots of bumps. His footing was unsteady. He took a step and a rat squeaked and shot across the floor.
“Sorry!” Elian said.
Jera climbed the second throne, hot stepping over the cushion to avoid any squeaks, and stood up on the backrest. It was narrow, so she turned her feet sideways. Elian climbed onto the back of his throne. They stood facing one another.
“Are you ready?” Jera said.
“Born ready.”
Together they reached up and pulled at the chain. It grated on the inside of the indented rock, and then came free in their hands. A small amount of dust floated to the floor. They shared a smile.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Elian said.
“Wait a second.”
Jera took off her necklace and put it into the hole, replacing the gold chain they’d taken.
“What are you doing?” Elian said.
“It feels wrong to take something without leaving something else in its place.”
“Jera Wythnos,” Elian said, shaking his head. “The world’s worst thief.”
There was a creeping groaning sound like a rock under great pressure.
“It’s another quake!” Elian said. “Quick! Let’s get down!”
“No,” Jera said. “I don’t think it is a quake.”
A thick crack from the indentation in the wall jerked up to the roof as another extended to the floor. Elian and Jera shared a look. There was a mo
ment of silence as a large chunk of the back wall fell away, and a heavy thump as it hit the ground on the other side.
Sunlight streamed in through the hole and blinded them. A stiff breeze came and blew the dust clear. They blinked and coughed, and a series of pitched-roofed shelters made from the skin of some unknown animal spread out before them. Young blue-skinned Goleuni squatted beside a gaggle of clucking chickens. The children’s mouths hung open, eyes wide with surprise. A group of adults sat around a fire that gave off thick white smoke. They had roasted rats on sticks halfway to their mouths.
“Afternoon,” Elian said.
One of the adults dropped his rat and picked up his spear.
“I think we’d better be leaving now,” Jera said.
“I concur,” Elian said.
They jumped down from the thrones to the cushions, and then onto the floor. A spear hit the stone at their feet and clattered along the surface. Elian and Jera squeezed through the doors without slowing and ran down the corridor, then passed through the cavernous welcoming hall. They looked back, but the natives did not give chase. Elian and Jera emerged outside, and ran into the jungle.
“Wait a second,” Jera said.
She put the chain in Elian’s side bag. Then she took Puca and put him inside the front of her dress. A group of twenty natives ran into the clearing in front of the temple. One bent down and looked at the rocks, prodding them with his long claws.
“Don’t worry,” Elian said. “It’s rock. They’ll never be able to track us across it.”
The native tracker pointed in Elian and Jera’s direction and hissed. The natives ran toward them.
“You were saying?” Jera said.
Leaves and vines whipped at their faces and limbs as they tore through the undergrowth.
“Which way are we going?” Jera said.
“West,” Elian said. “Toward the sun.”
“Why are we going that way?”
“Because that’s the direction we were going when we were last here.”
“Wait,” Jera said. “Wasn’t it raining here then?”
There was a flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder as they leapt over a log and descended down the incline.
“Thanks for reminding the universe,” Elian said.
“It was going to happen anyway,” Jera said.
“Sure it was.”
The rainwater sank into the ground and made it thick with mud. Small rivulets ran down the side of the mountain, coalesced, and formed slimy rivers. The mud sucked at Elian and Jera’s feet, but they pulled them free and forced themselves on. After a few more steps Jera came to a stop.
“I’m stuck!” she said.
She was buried up to her knees in the mud. Elian looked back and saw the top of the foliage directly behind her shake. The Goleuni were close.
“Hurry!” Jera said.
Elian grabbed her arms and pulled. Her body stretched and the mud clung to her legs.
“Keep pulling!” she said.
Elian could hear the Goleuni crashing through the undergrowth. He pulled harder, and Jera’s legs came free with a shlurp. Elian lost his footing, fell backward and tripped on a fallen tree. He slid down the slope. He grabbed at vines and tree roots, but they slipped through his fingers. He picked up speed as the hill began to descend at a sharper angle. He crashed through a thick bush and landed in a heap in a small clearing. He got up and checked his body. Nothing appeared to be broken. He looked around. The area was flat but churned up with mud, the rain making tiny dimples on its surface. It looked very familiar.
Gigantic waves crashed and roared in his ears, slamming against the inside of his skull, enveloping him and whisking him away to unknown shores.
Chapter Eleven
Lady Wythnos sat with her hair askew and her dress a little torn from where she hadn’t changed it in the past two weeks. She had a faraway dream-like expression and black bags under her eyes from where she hadn’t slept. At the end of the table, nose deep in his cups, sat Lord Wythnos. He at least wore fresh clothes and had seen a bed in the last twenty-four hours.
Gregory took a seat on Lord Wythnos’s right, and opposite Lady Wythnos. She looked at him with an air of expectation.
“I just got word from Richard,” Gregory said with a grimace. “It seems Stump managed to overpower his guards and escape into the Dreary Mountains, where we believe he had kept Jera all along.”
Lady Wythnos closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples.
“How could you let this happen again?” Lady Wythnos said. “I thought you had him in custody?”
“We did, but he proved more efficient than we expected. I have sent all available resources to the Dreary Mountains to recover your daughter. I am confident we shall have her back with us again soon.”
“You said that before,” Lady Wythnos said with a grunt.
“Believe me, I want the ladies Jera and Kali back with us every bit as much as you do. We are doing everything we can.”
“Everything but the right thing!”
Lady Wythnos turned to her husband.
“There must be something we can do!” she said.
“Gregory works for the Force,” Lord Wythnos said. “There’s no greater power out there to search for our beloved daughters.”
“We could hire professional trackers, bounty hunters.”
“I would suggest against using such unscrupulous men,” Gregory said. “Many times I’ve heard of such men kidnapping the victim themselves and demanding an even higher ransom.”
“Except that this Stump hasn’t yet asked for a ransom.”
“He will once he gets desperate.”
Lady Wythnos buried her head in her hands.
“Then what should we do?” she said.
“Trust in the Force,” Gregory said. “We will find them.”
Lady Wythnos pushed her plate of food aside.
“What about Kali?” she said. “Has there been any development with her?”
“Alas, no. Although we have searched everywhere in town we cannot locate her. We have questioned those we suspect of knowing of her whereabouts but so far we have uncovered nothing that might aid us.”
“What are we to do?” Lady Wythnos said. “We must cancel the wedding.”
“Let’s not be rash,” Gregory said. “I wish to marry your daughter the instant she returns, and I will stop at nothing to ensure both your daughters return by the wedding date.”
“But that’s only three days away!” Lady Wythnos said. “What if they are not back by then?”
“They will be.”
“And if they’re not?”
“They will be.”
Lady Wythnos leaned back in her chair and breathed a deep sigh.
“Your confidence is comforting,” Lady Wythnos said, “but we must be realistic. We cannot make the guests come to a wedding that might not even take place. What does your father think of all this?”
Gregory hesitated.
“My father thinks it best to continue with the wedding and preparations,” he said. “He has already sent a great deal of tribute to us. They are being loaded onto your husband’s ships as we speak, and will be released once we are wed, as is tradition.”
Gregory reached across the table and took Lady Wythnos’s hands in his own.
“We shall have the most beautiful wedding the world has ever known,” he said. “Tributes will spread across the world, to cities far and wide, and all will celebrate the union of our two great families, and all the world shall be looking at you and your daughters, and for one day you shall be queen of the world.”
That brought a smile to Lady Wythnos’s face.
“Kali certainly is lucky to be betrothed to you,” she said. “You are her knight in shining armour.”
Gregory smiled with modesty.
“Thank you, my lady,” he said. “But I am only doing what all men in a similar position would do.”
Lady Wythnos looked down at her clothes as if se
eing them for the first time. She fingered a ragged hole.
“Oh dear,” she said. “I appear to have let myself get slightly bedraggled. I shall go comport myself.”
“Take you time, my lady,” Gregory said.
Lady Wythnos stood up and took her leave. There was a moment of silence, the grandfather clock filling it with its regular rhythm. Lord Wythnos raised his hand, and a servant came over and filled his cup with more wine.
“You have a talent with words,” Lord Wythnos said.
“Any man seen as a public figure must be able to entrance a crowd, mustn’t he?”
“With empty promises?”
Gregory’s eyes flashed.
“With real promises,” he said.
“How are the tributes coming along?” Lord Wythnos said.
“Not well,” Gregory said. “My father wishes to make a large tribute to each of the cities of the kingdom. His heart is too large and he wants to celebrate this wondrous day with the common man.”
“I’m sure the cities don’t mind receiving larger tributes.”
“Alas, it is not the cities that are making the trouble. It is Matthews, the port master. He is a stickler for the rules and will not allow so many ships to ‘clog up’ the port, as he says, although I was quick to point out that this time of year is not particularly busy and other ships can access the harbour quite freely if they wish. But he will not listen. At least, not to a stranger such as I.”
“I could have a word with him,” Lord Wythnos said, taking a swig from his wine. “I’ve known him since he was a boy. I’m sure he would listen to a few sage words from me.”
“That would certainly take the pressure off, what with the search, running the Force, loading the tribute ships and organising the wedding, every minor inconvenience becomes a marathon.”
“I’ll take care of Matthews and help with the wedding preparations,” Lord Wythnos said. “You concentrate on bringing my girls back.”