by Karen Hughes
She felt claws raking at her cloak, hot breath on her neck.
‘Nima.’ The creature’s voice was husky and cracked. ‘Nima!’
Ahead, she saw a great hollow tree. At the base, there were clumps of long-stemmed purple flowers.
Nima could feel the power of the flowers, the safety of the tree. She looked back over her shoulder. The creature had stopped stock still. It screamed and tore at its glossy fur.
Throwing herself to the ground, Nima crawled into the hollow.
The creature let out a piercing howl. Through the gap in the trunk, Nima could see it retreating, clutching the sharp stick with one hand, tearing at its fur with the other. Slinking back into the bushes, it settled down to wait.
Nima fell back against the giant trunk and closed her eyes. For a moment all was quiet; then the branches began to shake and a gruff voice said, ‘You are safe here.’
She sat up with a start. In the half-light she could see a figure: an old man with long white hair and deep brown skin. He was dressed in a soft grey cloak, and his hair was plaited back with leather bands, wooden beads, and a single owl feather.
‘Who are you?’ she whispered.
His eyes widened in surprise. ‘You can see me,’ he said, his face lighting up. ‘You can see me!’
‘Of course I can see you,’ said Nima, snapping at him. ‘You’re standing right in front of me.’
‘Ha!’ he cried. ‘I have been speaking to people for thousands of years. Wise men of the forest, sorcerers and healers. Kings and queens of Ballyndor. In all that time, no one has ever been able to see me.’
He gave a bow. ‘I am Kaosha,’ he said. ‘The spirit of the Seeing Tree.’
‘You don’t look like a spirit,’ said Nima, her eyes wide.
The little man cocked his head to one side and smiled a shrewd smile. ‘And you do not look like the apiki flower, but things are not always as they seem.’
Nima stood up. She was about the same height as the little man. He was watching her now, grinning broadly.
‘My father is badly hurt,’ she whispered.
‘Ah, the shaman,’ the little man stroked his chin. ‘You could not heal him because he has been touched by the old magic. He has done terrible harm to this land and he must face the consequences.’
Nima’s face was pale. ‘No,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t him; it was me. I made the wish. I brought her back from the island.’
‘It’s good that you take responsibility,’ said Kaosha, ‘but it is not yours to take. Your father knew you would make that wish. He encouraged it. He took you to the Dead Islands. He gave you the seeds of the star fruit.’
‘Please,’ Nima stepped towards him and put her hand on his arm. The little man looked down at her hand in surprise, as if he had never before been touched. ‘He loved my mother. He thought he could save her.’
The little man sighed. ‘It’s too late now. The first law of magic is do no harm. Your father has broken it twice – by teaching your mother the art of potions, and by giving her poisonous berries for the boy, Kai – ’
‘But he paid for that!’ cried Nima. ‘I saw what it did to him. He lost all his power. He became a bitter old man.’
‘Yes, he did,’ said Kaosha. ‘And he also faced Mugadi and saved Ballyndor from the emperor. He paid completely. But now he has done something much worse. He has interfered with the laws of magic. Sofia did terrible things and was banished to the Dead Islands. He deliberately brought her back.’
‘He didn’t!’ said Nima. ‘He carried a crystal. He was using it to tell him whether she was ready to come back, whether she had changed.’
‘And what colour was the crystal?’
‘Red.’
Kaosha shook his head. ‘The colour of blood.’
By the time they finished speaking, the sun was streaming through the hollow. Kaosha spoke gently, but his words seemed harsh and cruel to Nima. He could do nothing to help her father. The shaman had made his own choices, he must live – or die – with the consequences.
The little man looked very sad. ‘There is one way to find him,’ he said. ‘But it’s dangerous, and I do not like to tell you.’
‘I will do anything,’ said Nima. ‘He’s my father.’
Kaosha sighed. He turned and pressed both hands against the tree; then he leaned forward and put his forehead on his hands.
Nima sat back against the trunk as the branches shook and the ground beneath her slipped away. She was floating in a sea of green, lost in the shadows of the forest. Kaosha’s voice came to her from far away – deep and mellow, rustling with the wisdom of the trees.
Carry the stone of your father,
Blood red and painted with fear,
Go to the City of Emperors
And rest in the Temple of Tears.
Seek out the boy with the monkey,
The shadow runs deep in his heart,
Cast the stone into the water,
And wait for the magic to start.
When Kaosha finished speaking, all was still. It was as if the whole forest was holding its breath. Then he cleared his throat with a deep ‘grumph, grumph’. The forest breathed again. Birds sang. Cicadas hummed. The branches above her moved in the breeze, rustling and sighing.
‘You must not go back to the Plains. It’s too dangerous, and your father is no longer there. Sofia has already found him.’ The little man stood on one foot and raised his arms to keep his balance. ‘You have a long journey ahead.’
‘The City of Emperors,’ said Nima, slumping back against the trunk. ‘The only city I know that has an emperor is Nagara, the royal city of Moto. But how can I go there? The emperor has been insulted by the Dasa. We deserted him in battle to join the soldiers of Ballyndor. He must hate us.’
‘You may have grown up with the Dasa,’ said the little man, ‘but you are not one of them. Your parents are Kalika, people of the forest.’
Nima was quiet. She watched an ant make its tiny way up the trunk beside her arm. If she moved, she would crush it. She thought about the great army of Moto, the emperor riding his mighty elephant. He’d seen her walk into the battle. He’d watched as she spoke to Mugadi, the leader of the Dasa Warriors, begging him to stop the fight. And in the madness of the fight, when the magic was so strong that even the most mundane person could see the spirit animals, he’d seen her snow leopard, Usha.
No, she didn’t think the emperor would welcome her. But then, she was a small girl and Moto was a big land – maybe she could go unnoticed long enough to find the boy with the monkey, whoever he may be.
She sighed and scrambled to her feet. It was possible. Dangerous, yes, but possible. And the little man said it was the only way to find her father.
‘It’s a long way to Nagara,’ said Kaosha. ‘You must go quickly.’
‘But I can’t go to the Kalika village now. I can’t even leave this tree. That creature, whatever it is, is waiting for me.’
‘Haven’t you guessed?’ said Kaosha. His eyes were filled with pity. ‘That creature is Sofia. She tried to shapeshift, to take the form of the panther who walks by her side, but she has not been able to shift completely. The panther fights against her. It is not her power animal – it is only half. It is an akuna, a shadow of the true panther.’
‘I guessed,’ said Nima. She was quiet for a moment, and then she asked, ‘Will she stay like that?’
‘I don't know,’ said Kaosha, ‘but I do know that while she is in that form she will show you no mercy.’
Nima sighed. ‘Then I’m stuck here,’ she said.
Kaosha held out his hand and smiled. ‘You forget,’ he said. ‘You are the apiki flower, and there are many roads to Moto.’
Chapter 4
Ballyndor
The feast was finished by midnight. The children were hustled off to bed early, complaining and crying and begging their parents to let them watch the sunrise.
‘Not this year,’ said Aunty Mai, looking so fierce that no one was brave
enough to argue with her.
No one, that is, except Indie. ‘You’re joking,’ she cried, looking at her aunt in disgust. ‘I'm nearly sixteen. You can’t make me go to bed.’
‘Indie!’ Her mother put down her cup with a bang, causing hot coco to splash over the edge. There was silence around the table. ‘How dare you speak to your aunt like that. After all she’s done for you.’
‘The children are going to bed,’ said Dargan. ‘That includes you, Indie.’
Indie jumped to her feet. ‘I’m not a child! I wish everyone would stop treating me like one!’
Her mother was frowning, shaking her head. Dargan watched with a half-smile on his face. Indie knew he would talk about her when she was gone. They would all talk about her.
She glared at them, turned away, and ran into the forest.
By the time Kai found her, she was sitting on a log, kicking her boots and fuming at the injustice of it all. Kai sat beside her. He looked out at the dark trees.
‘Mum’s not happy with you,’ he said.
‘I don’t care,’ said Indie.
‘Well, I do. She’s taking us home at daybreak. She says Dargan can bring Nima home later.’
‘What?’ Indie turned to stare at him. ‘That’s ridiculous.’
Kai shrugged. ‘That’s what I said, but she says you were told not to go wandering in the forest. She says you knew it was dangerous and you ran off anyway.’
‘I didn’t run very far,’ said Indie, her face sullen.
‘That’s not the point,’ said Kai. ‘You were told not to. She says it shows a lack of respect.’
‘Respect!’ Indie sprang to her feet. ‘How can I respect her when she doesn’t respect me?’
‘I don’t think she looks at it that way,’ said Kai. ‘She says children should – ’
‘I am not a child!’
‘You’re acting like one.’
Indie scowled. Her brother was enjoying this, she could tell. She wanted to thump him as hard as she could; she wanted to wipe that smug grin right off his face. Instead, she gave the log another vicious kick.
‘I am not,’ she said.
When they reached the high stone walls of Ballyndor after a day of hard riding, it was evening and the castle was quiet. The great doors loomed black and heavy in the moonlight.
The guards snapped to attention when they saw the queen and her children, and hustled them into the vast dining hall where their father sat alone at the great table, picking at a plate of moka bread.
‘What on earth is going on?’ he said when he saw them, his voice abrupt and his face red with anger.
‘I sent a messenger,’ said Tala. ‘There’s no need to get cross.’
‘A boy arrived about an hour ago, babbling about black shadows and savage creatures that feast on your brains. I sent him straight to the healing centre. He said nothing about you and the children.’
‘Oh dear,’ Tala’s face was pale. ‘I should never have sent him on ahead by himself.’
‘There was a dark magic in the forest,’ said Kai. ‘I could feel it. And Aunty Mai said something bad was going to happen.’
King Eamon sighed. ‘We've spoken about this, Kai,’ he said. ‘You worry too much. Sofia, Mugadi, Tenzel ... They’re all gone. Even the Emperor of Moto has scurried back to his hole. Nothing bad is going to happen. We have defeated the darkness.’
‘I saw it,’ said Kai, looking down at his boots. ‘In my mind. It was like a grey mist, covering the land. The animals scattered and the plants wilted beneath it. I could feel its eyes, yellow and terrible, watching me.’
Eamon frowned. ‘You’re exhausted from your adventures, Kai. Your mind is running wild – ’
‘But it’s real!’ cried Indie. ‘You saw it yourself. Something happened to that messenger boy!’
Tala gave her a cold look. ‘He wouldn't have been in the forest alone if it weren’t for your behaviour, young lady. We wouldn’t have needed to rush home.’
‘But we’re safe now,’ said Indie. ‘You should be thanking me.’
The king frowned. He reached for the queen’s hand. ‘I’m glad you came home, Tala,’ he said, bringing her palm to his lips and kissing it softly.
He turned back to Kai and Indie. ‘Go to your room, Indie.’
‘But I’m not – ’
‘Do not argue with me. And Kai, I suggest you get some sleep, too. Your mother and I have much to discuss.’
*
Kai couldn’t sleep. He wished for the umpteenth time that he still had Chief Wicasa’s spell book (surely there would be something in the book about sending shadows away), but he’d offered it to Shaman Yanti when he met him on the mountain, and the shaman had thrown it into the fire.
He tossed and turned in his big white bed, throwing his pillows to the floor. It was no use: it was impossible to sleep. He lay on his back with his arms crossed behind his head, staring at the ceiling.
Gradually the sounds of the castle faded. Kai strained his ears, but the hushed voices of the servants had ceased. All he could hear was the haunting cry of the chika bird and the rustle of night creatures outside his window.
He threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. Standing at the window, he looked out on the silent gardens. All was quiet. All was still. In the moonlight, he fancied he could see a shadow moving from tree to tree. He shook his head. He was imagining things.
As he climbed back into the bed, there was a clatter outside. He heard footsteps, a muffled curse.
There was a scratching sound beneath the window.
Kai held his breath. Someone was climbing up the wall. He ran back to the window. Long brown fingers clutched the sill.
He held up his hands and began to say magic words. It was the same spell he’d used all that time ago in the forest to knock Sofia’s thugs unconscious.
Mareka tali hom che rum …
‘Wait!’ hissed a voice. ‘It’s me. Don’t say the spell.’
There was a great deal of grunting and groaning, and a figure in a purple Kalika cloak tumbled into the room.
‘Brek!’ Kai couldn't believe his eyes. Brek never left the forest.
‘Shh.’ The medicine man put his finger to his lips. ‘Your parents don’t know I’m here.’
‘What are you doing?’ asked Kai, his heart in his throat. ‘Has something happened in the forest? Is Aunty Mai all right?’
‘She’s fine,’ said Brek. He sat on the bed, puffing, and wiping the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his cloak.
‘Then why are you sneaking around the castle in the dark?’
Brek brushed the leaves and dirt from his cloak. He inspected his fingers and grimaced.
‘Thorns,’ he muttered.
‘Why did you climb through the window?’ asked Kai, his voice rising. ‘Why didn’t you come to the front door like a normal person?’
‘Because I’m not a normal person,’ Brek said. ‘Now hush and listen. I have something important to tell you. We went out to visit the Seeing Tree after you left. Kaosha told us that a child – the apiki flower – sought shelter there last night.’
‘Nima,’ said Kai, softly.
‘Yes. Kaosha told Nima that she must travel to the City of Emperors. He told her she has the power to heal this darkness. He sent her through the portal to the mountains.’
‘But the portal only opens at Okowa … during the autumn festival.’
‘It does,’ said Brek, ‘for the rest of us. It’s different if you’re the apiki flower. The trees and animal spirits must do as you ask, no matter what time of year it is. Nima is more powerful than she realises.’
He stood up, paced back and forth, and then sat back on the bed.
‘I don’t like this,’ he said. ‘The Seeing Tree wouldn’t tell me exactly what he told Nima. He said his message was for her alone. But he did say she would need our help.’
Kai jumped to his feet. ‘Of course she’ll need us. Why did Kaosha send her to Nagara by herself?’
>
‘The nature spirits are unpredictable. Who knows why they do anything.’ Brek shook his head. ‘I’ve looked into the smoke, but it’s hazy and all I can see are strange shadowy figures rising out of the water.’
His forehead creased with worry. ‘I’ve made up my mind. I must take you to Nagara, even though Dargan will be furious and your parents will probably never speak to me again.’
‘They’ve been angry before,’ said a voice. ‘They’ll get over it.’
Kai looked up in surprise. Indie was standing in the doorway, dressed in travelling clothes, carrying a knapsack on her shoulder.
‘I can hear you two all the way down the hall,’ she said. ‘When are we leaving?’
Brek stood again, and walked across to the window. He looked out at the gardens for a long time, his shoulders stooped and his back bent. When he turned, his eyes were dark.
‘We’ll leave at midnight,’ he said. ‘But I can think of only one way to get there, and you’re not going to like it.’
Chapter 5
The Harbour
The kitchens were silent and empty when Indie and Kai crept into the pantry to fill their packs with provisions for the journey.
‘You can’t take that,’ hissed Kai, as Indie wrapped a big cream cake in cloth and prepared to stuff it in her pack. Indie frowned at him, but she put the cake back and took oranges, moka bread, white cheese, and hard biscuits instead.
‘You’re no fun at all,’ she muttered.
‘Hurry up,’ said Brek. He was keeping watch at the door. ‘We have to leave now, or it’ll be too late.’
‘Too late for what?’ asked Indie, doing up the straps on her pack.
‘You’ll see soon enough,’ said Brek. ‘And don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
Through the quiet streets they ran, across covered bridges and under flickering street lamps, until they reached the harbour. Boats of every shape and size sat gently rocking in the water: some with peeling paint and crooked masts, others polished and primped and gleaming in the moonlight. The sailors were asleep on board, or visiting their ladies in the royal city.