by Karen Hughes
Nima looked away. Now she understood. Her mother was a monster, a creature banished for the terrible things she had done. And Nima had brought her back.
‘You should have told me,’ she said, in a hollow voice. ‘I would never have made that wish.’
‘You wouldn’t have believed me,’ said the shaman. ‘She is your mother. If you hadn’t seen her she would have always haunted you – ’
‘Now she will haunt me even more.’ Nima picked up the shaman’s pouch and slung it over her shoulder. She held out her hands to help him up.
‘No,’ he said. ‘You must go on without me.’
‘I’ll call Usha again,’ said Nima. ‘She will help us.’
‘No!’ The shaman’s eyes flashed. ‘Usha cannot help me. You must leave me. Go to the forest. The Kalika will protect you there.’
Nima looked at the blood staining his cloak. She had to call Usha – there was no choice.
‘Do what I tell you,’ insisted the shaman, his eyes dark. ‘Go to the forest.’
‘I can’t leave you,’ said Nima, fiercely. ‘I won’t.’
‘You must,’ whispered her father. ‘I have lived a long time in this land. I have cheated death before. Do not be afraid for me.’
He was right, though it broke her heart to admit it.
She crawled into his arms. She could hear the breath rattling in his chest, see the pallor of his skin.
He pushed the hair from her eyes.
‘Go,’ he whispered. ‘You’re strong. You have much to do in this world.’
He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, as if he were summoning every last ounce of his strength. And then, with a flash of tawny fur and a rippling in the grass, he was gone.
chapter 2
The Forest
At the edge of the Kalika Forest, in the shade of the paperbark trees, Queen Tala reined in her horse and slipped from the saddle. She kept a firm hold on the bridle, as if she thought the horse might bolt at any moment and gallop back to Ballyndor.
The queen waited. The stark branches of the trees seemed to reach out to her, beckoning her to step into the cool underworld of her childhood. Behind her, the green hills, grassy and treeless, rolled away to the edge of the royal city. Ballyndor Castle was at least a day’s ride away, along with her husband, King Eamon, and all the luxuries of palace life.
Hooves thundered in the distance. Two horses came into view. It was a close race, but the rider with the streaming red curls won by a nose and threw herself to the ground, laughing.
‘I beat you, Kai,’ she cried as the other rider landed beside her, his face dusty and his eyes bright.
‘I let you win,’ said her brother.
‘You did not. You never had a chance of beating me.’
‘Of course I did,’ said Kai. ‘I could have passed you when you slowed at the castle gate, or when your horse stumbled on the Jindi Bridge.’
‘You were miles behind.’ Indie’s voice dripped with scorn. ‘You would have fallen if you’d tried to catch me.’
The queen frowned. ‘That’s enough. I will not have you quarrelling like gypsies.’
Indie rolled her eyes at her brother. Tala was trying hard to be friends with her children. She was riding horses, practising her Kalika magic, and even learning to use a sword; but she still had strong ideas about how they should behave.
‘But Mum – ’ Indie began.
‘Enough, I said.’ The queen passed her the reins. ‘Now tie up the horses and we’ll make our way into the forest. Your Aunty Mai is waiting for us.’
Indie closed her mouth. She was looking forward to seeing Aunty Mai. The queen’s eldest sister had cared for Indie for nearly ten years, hidden away on a secret island. They were hiding from Sorcerer Tenzel, who had taken over the kingdom and locked the king and queen away. It was only later, when Indie came to Gort, that she discovered Aunt Sofia, the queen’s other sister, was behind it all.
‘You know how important today is to the Kalika people,’ said the queen. ‘I’d like to get there on time.’
Indie looked at her feet. ‘Sorry, Mum,’ she mumbled.
Her mother gave her a warm smile. ‘I know you love to win, Indie,’ she said. ‘But really, it’s ridiculous. There’s no shame in coming second to your brother.’
Indie looked at Kai. He was taller now than she was, with long legs and a wide smile. She could still beat him at hobelar, the game they played with silver horses on a green and white chequerboard, but he was much better at his lessons. He could rattle off historical facts without thinking, play the mandolin with his eyes closed, and answer any mathematical problem in minutes, working it all out in his head.
Yech. It made her furious to think about it. It was as if he’d tapped into some secret channel that handed him whatever information he needed, as if he had an invisible friend sitting on his shoulder whispering the answers in his ear.
She struggled with her lessons, enduring Uncle Paco’s sighs.
‘If only you would study harder like your brother,’ the old man grumbled, marking her hurried work with ugly crosses.
And Indie would choke back her anger, knowing full well her brother didn’t study; he just knew.
When they reached the Kalika village – with its tree houses hidden high in the leaves, swaying rope bridges stretching from branch to branch, and polished steps winding around the rough grey trunks – Aunty Mai greeted them with a big smile and her arms filled with flowers. Yellow buds of chamomile, soft green yarrow, tall purple coneflowers. The queen’s sister spent her days brewing potions and tinctures to cure any ill, and the only person who knew more than she did about plants was Brek, the quiet man who was teaching Kai as much as he could about Kalika magic.
Aunty Mai wore a simple green dress, covered with an old pink apron. Tendrils of grey hair had slipped free from her loose bun to dangle around her face. Her cheeks were flushed; her eyes shone. Indie thought she had never looked more beautiful.
‘Why aren’t you dressed?’ cried the queen. ‘The feast is supposed to begin in half an hour.’
‘Oh, I know,’ said Aunty Mai. ‘But I haven’t finished the flowers.’ She winked at Indie. ‘The solstice goes all night. There’s no need to rush.’
‘We can’t stay up all night,’ said the queen. ‘The children will need some sleep. As soon as Nima gets here in the morning, we have to go. I must be back at the castle in time to meet the diplomats from Moto.’
Aunty Mai rubbed her hands on her apron. She looked into the distance, squinting. Suddenly her face crumpled and her eyes turned glassy.
‘Nima will come,’ she whispered. ‘But she will not bring healing. She has woken the sleeping shadows. She brings a darkness that will test us all.’
Tala frowned. ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that,’ she said.
Aunty Mai blinked and looked at her sister. ‘Oh dear. What did I say this time?’
Tala took her arm and bustled her down the stairs, assuring her that it was nothing important. Indie followed. As she left, she turned to see Kai standing in the doorway. He was gazing out at the forest, his eyes dark, as if Aunty Mai’s words had reminded him of something he didn’t want to think about.
Outside, the sun was sinking and the trees cast long shadows across the grass. A cold breeze whispered through the leaves. Indie pulled her cloak around her shoulders, shivering. Winter is nearly here, she thought. I wonder what it will be like.
She had been to the Dasa Mountains, through the ice caves and over the snow, but that was in spring when the sun shone and the skies were clear. She had never seen a real winter. On the island where Aunty Mai and Aunt Sofia had hidden her away, it was always summer. She had spent her whole childhood with the sand, the sea, and the sun. She couldn’t imagine a time when the days were grey.
‘Hey, what are you dreaming about?’ Kai came leaping down the stairs. ‘The sleeping shadows? The darkness that will test us all?’
He sounded as if he was joking, but his face was se
rious.
Indie frowned. ‘Don’t make fun of Aunty Mai. She can’t help it.’
‘I’m not making fun of her. She’s usually right. And I’ve had a strange feeling all day, like something bad is going to happen.’
He brushed past her, following the others to the long table under the trees. Aunty Mai was placing her flowers along the centre. Tala was straightening the silver cutlery and inspecting the crystal glasses. There were women putting out saskaberry wine in elegant green bottles, men carrying huge platters of food. They were chatting and laughing, swirling around the table in white linen and coloured silk, ready for the party.
Doli, Chepi and Lulu, the other wise women who had cared for Indie on the island, were stoking the coals in the fire-pit and bustling around the cooking pots.
‘The food is not quite ready,’ said Doli, popping up beside Aunty Mai. ‘We still have to arrange the flowers. And I haven’t put Grandma Helki’s silver teapot on the table.’
The queen took Doli’s hand. ‘You go upstairs and get ready. I’ll take care of everything.’
When the ladies had gone, their hands flapping and their skirts swirling, the queen turned to her children.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘Indie, stir that pot and make sure it doesn’t burn. Kai, take Grandma Helki’s silver teapot and finish setting the table. I’ll be upstairs.’
She swept up the narrow steps of the tree house to Aunty Mai’s bedroom, high in the topmost branches.
Indie looked at Kai. He was grinning.
‘I’m not cooking,’ she hissed. ‘I hate cooking.’
‘Take this then,’ said Kai, picking up a wooden tray – complete with silver teapot, milk jug, sugar bowl, and assorted cups and saucers – and loading it into her arms. ‘I’ll do the cooking.’
‘You can’t cook.’
‘Well, neither can you. At least I’m not scared to try.’
‘You’ll burn it.’
Kai said nothing. He smiled his infuriating smile, knelt over the fire-pit, and peered into the heavy black pots.
Indie left him to it. It was much nicer away from the fire. The smoke was thick with cloves and cinnamon, and the heat was already giving Kai a red face. Indie preferred the cool shade of the trees, the fresh green scent of the saska bushes.
The tree houses looked down on a clearing, where the ladies had set up a long table covered with silk cloths and fresh flowers. There were bowls of fruit punch and tall thin glasses, platters of tiny iced cakes and sweet biscuits, trays of finely cut sandwiches. Glass dishes sat at either end, piled high with spiky red dragon fruit and juicy yellow grapes.
Indie plonked the tray at one end of the table, rattling all the glasses and bowls. She held her breath. The tall glasses near the edge shook and swayed, but they didn’t fall.
‘Phew,’ she said. ‘Well, that’s my job done.’
She sat at the foot of Aunty Mai’s tree and looked out at the forest. She remembered how frightened she had been when she first saw it, how she had slept in the Seeing Tree rather than follow Kai into the darkness. It wasn’t frightening now. Now that she knew she was one of the Kalika, with a Kalika mother and Kalika aunties, she felt more at home.
Still, she was glad to see the boys piling up sticks and lighting a circle of fires around the clearing. The forest was old. There were many things hidden in the shadows.
She shivered again and pulled her cloak around her. The leaves had fallen. The breeze from the south was icy with snow. She gazed out beyond the trees, beyond the forest to the vast empty Plains of Gilliba, where her father’s army had ridden against the Dasa Warriors and the army of Moto.
For a long time, she sat in silence, lost in her memories of the battle. She thought of the spirit animals, the snow leopard and the grey wolf, attacking each other in the centre of the plain. It was like a dream – a dream filled with strange creatures from the mountains. For a moment she was there again, flying with the golden eagle. Touching the sky, feeling the wind, knowing what it was to be free.
‘No limits,’ she whispered.
Chapter 3
A Kalika Feast
‘And what do you think you’re doing?’
The voice made Indie jump.
‘Dargan!’ she cried. ‘You scared me.’
The Kalika chief smiled. Eagle feathers rustled in his hair.
‘You scare too easily,’ he said. ‘The Emerald of Ballyndor must be alert, always on her guard. Ready for anything.’
Indie leaned back against the tree. ‘You won’t even let me have my own sword.’
‘You’re not ready,’ said Dargan. ‘Your father’s sword, the Sword of Veladin, is waiting for you. You must show him you are worthy of it.’
Indie frowned. ‘I challenged Aunt Sofia. I helped my mother lead the soldiers of Ballyndor against the Emperor of Moto. I convinced Jabar that the Dasa Warriors should be loyal to Gort. What else do I have to do?’
Dargan shook his head. ‘You are reckless and impulsive–’
‘That’s so unfair!’
‘And you are impatient.’ He touched her arm lightly. ‘When you’re ready, you will know.’
She scowled at him. He laughed and straightened, looking up at the tree house. The breeze was stronger now. It shook the branches and rattled the glasses on the table.
Kai appeared on the top step, his face white.
‘Can you feel that?’ he called. ‘Indie. There’s something strange …’ He vanished inside, leaving Indie with a cold sensation in her stomach, a feeling of dread that settled around her and made everything grey.
But the feeling passed. The forest turned to orange as the sun sank in the distance. The stark white branches shone gold and silver. The Kalika people climbed down from their tree houses, laughing and chattering and driving the cold away.
The women wore silk dresses in all the colours of the earth – greens and browns and blues. In their hair they had woven fresh marigolds, the morning flower, the flower of the sun.
The men wore white shirts and brown leather pants. Two or three beaded braids hung in their hair. Some had feathers tied at the end – the soft brown of the eagle, the bright red of the forest owl, the blue-black of the chika bird.
They stood around the clearing in small groups, talking softly. Indie looked for Dargan and saw that he had joined a circle of old women. They fussed over him, patting his arms, telling him their stories. He smiled and listened.
He’s changed so much, she thought. She remembered the first time she had seen him, in the gardens of Ballyndor Castle when she was escaping from Aunt Sofia. He had been quiet and awkward, uncertain of how to speak to a princess. Now he was chief of the Kalika, leader of an ancient people, and he was acting exactly like her father.
You are reckless and impulsive.
Impatient.
Not ready to handle a sword.
Indie frowned. She was the Emerald of Ballyndor, the one they spoke about in all the old stories. She had defeated Aunt Sofia. She had ridden against the army of Moto. If anyone had the right to wield the Sword of Veladin, she did.
A single pipe sounded. It was Brek, the medicine man, clothed in a purple robe with gold symbols on the hem. He played a haunting tune, clear and true in the bright morning air. There was drumming, and then more pipes, high and sweet. The people began to sway and clap.
Dargan laughed and held out his hand.
But before he could take Indie’s arm, before he could lead her to the table, the breeze rose and the glasses shook, and the drum and the pipes were still.
A hush settled over the forest. A sense of unease crept through the crowd.
‘What’s happening?’ whispered Indie.
‘I don’t know,’ said Dargan. His hand went to the silver knife at his belt.
‘That knife will not help you,’ said Brek, in a quiet voice.
Dargan frowned, but he let his hand drop.
Kai left the fire and walked to Brek’s side. He was already taller than Brek, his s
houlders broad and his hands wide against Brek’s thin arms.
‘It’s some kind of magic,’ Kai said. ‘Powerful, dark, and cold.’ He put his arms around his chest, shuddering. ‘And it feels angry, like it wants to suck the life out of me.’
‘That’s exactly what it wants,’ said Brek. ‘Don’t go wandering alone in the forest tonight. There is a blackness brewing.’
‘The darkness that will test us all,’ whispered Indie. She felt a thrill run along her spine. Perhaps she would have a chance to claim her sword, after all.
*
When Nima reached the edge of the forest it was almost daylight. She had run all night. She had to get help. She had to find Kai.
The forest was dark, and alive with the creatures of the night. Insects rose in clouds about her head. Small animals scurried through the undergrowth at her feet. Giant ferns arched above her, blocking out the stars. Grey trees stood in her path. She had no idea which direction to go.
The magic here was different to the magic of the mountain. It was younger, greener. It crackled in the air and sang in the highest branches – a sparkling energy that tugged at her hair and clothes, teasing her, unsettling her.
But she could feel something else as well: a heaviness, a shadow. It drifted through the trees in a fine grey mist, tainting everything it touched.
Was the forest always like this? So beautiful, and yet so dark and frightening?
Snap! A branch cracked behind her, and she spun to see a strange creature leering at her from the bushes. She could make out a sleek face covered in glossy black fur, and two vivid yellow eyes.
She took a step back. The creature shrieked. It snatched at the branches around it, breaking off a sharp stick. She froze in horror. It was a shadow creature, a spirit animal, but it was also human.
Waving the stick, it sprang out at her. She turned and ran, pushing her way through the thick trees, never looking back. She could hear the patter of the creature’s strange feet coming closer and closer.