The Sorrow of the Waters (Kalika Magic Book 3)

by Karen Hughes

  The children gathered around, pulling at their father’s clothes. ‘Why have we stopped?,’ asked the boy Jabar had carried. ‘I want to go on the gypsy road. Please, Da.’

  ‘We’re going there now,’ said Uncle Rauf, his voice hard. ‘Nima is coming with us.’ He began to steer Nima across the rocks, his hand tight on her elbow. ‘Nima will be staying with us for a long, long time,’ he said.

  ‘But Uncle!’

  ‘This is the right thing to do, Jabar. You know it as well as I. The gypsies need the apiki flower – that’s why you brought her to us.’

  Nima looked back over her shoulder. Jabar's shoulders were stooped, his head bent. When he looked up, he could hardly meet her eyes.

  ‘I'm sorry,’ he whispered.

  Chapter 12

  Taka

  The jungle was not so thick here. The trees parted to reveal the remains of a great city, a place of twisting alleyways and old stone walls. Moss-green ruins rose from the jungle floor; thick creeping vines covered everything. There were tiny stone houses with crumbling roofs, patches of cleared path, and great pyramids of layered rock reaching to the sky.

  Sami led them under the sweeping fronds of a giant fern, and out into an open square surrounded by ancient statues. Indie and Kai stood wide-eyed, staring at the gypsy children who played hide and seek among the ruins.

  ‘Where are we?’ whispered Indie.

  Kai put out his hand to touch one of the statues. It was the figure of a man. The stone was pitted and worn, but the face looked familiar.

  ‘That’s the man who led the gypsies here,’ said Sami. ‘Hundreds of years ago.’

  ‘He doesn’t look like a gypsy,’ said Kai.

  ‘He wasn’t,’ said a voice. ‘He was Kalika, like you.’

  Four mighty trees grew at the edge of the square. In each tree there was a tree house. Unlike the tree houses at the river, which were old and patched and badly in need of repair, these four were green and freshly painted. Polished steps wound around the tree trunks; silk streamers waved in the breeze; tiny silver bells tinkled from the branches.

  On the bottom step of the closest tree house sat a young man. He was whittling a piece of wood. He wore red britches and a white shirt, and he had a yellow bandana tied around his forehead and a small gold loop through his ear.

  ‘Hello Sami,’ he said. ‘Who are your friends?’

  ‘This is Kai,’ said Sami, pointing, ‘and that’s Indie. They needed a place to hide.’

  The man looked them up and down.

  ‘This is my cousin, Alim,’ said Sami. ‘His father, my Uncle Malik, runs the council here.’

  ‘We won’t tell anyone about the city,’ said Indie. ‘We promise. We can’t even remember how we got here.’

  Alim smiled. ‘You don’t have to explain yourself to me.’

  ‘I thought you’d be angry,’ said Indie. ‘I thought Sami would get into trouble for bringing us here.’

  Alim laid down his knife. ‘The gypsies have never denied refuge to a child.’

  ‘I’m not a …’ Indie stopped. Kai was shaking his head and frowning at her.

  Alim didn’t seem to notice. ‘Children are precious,’ he said, his voice serious. ‘If they’re locked up and taught they’re not worthy, that they’re somehow less because of their skin or their family or the place they were born, then there is no hope for the world.’

  He looked closely at Indie, his eyes resting on her copper hair, her green eyes. ‘But you’re not Kalika,’ he said. ‘Why are you hiding? You would be welcomed by the emperor.’

  ‘They’re both from Ballyndor,’ said Sami. ‘Brother and sister.’

  ‘You look nothing alike,’ said Alim, still gazing at Indie.

  ‘Our mother is Kalika,’ said Kai. ‘I look like her. Our father is from Ballyndor.’ He didn't mention that their father was the king. It seemed safer to keep it a secret.

  ‘Your clothes are very fine,’ said Alim, fingering the sleeve of Kai's shirt. ‘Your family must be wealthy. Why are you in Moto? Don’t you know how dangerous it is? The soldiers are taking anyone who looks different. Gypsies, Kalika, Dasa.’

  While they were speaking, a crowd of small children gathered around them. The children looked wild, but their clothes were neatly patched and their eyes were bright. They touched Kai and Indie with curious hands, shyly offering them beads and coloured stones.

  ‘Shoo,’ said Alim, sending them running with a wave of his hand. They vanished into the undergrowth, shrieking with laughter.

  Alim smiled as he watched them go, but his smile quickly faded. ‘The gypsies have never been welcome in Moto,’ he said. ‘We’re tolerated, because we travel far and bring back spices and beautiful things to trade, but still they fear us. We’re too different. We believe different things. And we refuse to worship the emperor as a god. We have our own gods.’

  He climbed to his feet. ‘At least we’re safe here,’ he said, ‘Come, let me show you our beautiful city.’

  Night came, and with it the hoots and calls of the dark jungle. They sat on silk cushions in Alim's tree house, surrounded by rugs and tapestries and bags of fragrant spices. Sami had found them sweet dragonfruit and rich sultana bread, and they ate hungrily, savouring every bite.

  ‘The Dasa betrayed the emperor,’ Alim was saying. ‘And Moto is always at war with the people of Ballyndor, so it’s understandable that the emperor wants to lock them in his dungeons. But this is different.’ The gypsy's handsome face clouded and his eyes grew dark. ‘Something strange is happening. The children have started disappearing. They say the emperor is sending them to the hidden islands beyond the silver veil, but I don't know how that’s possible. It takes a strong magic to do that.’

  Indie looked at Kai. ‘You’d better tell him about Sofia,’ she said.

  Kai told Alim the whole story. He left nothing out. Sami sat beside them, his eyes growing wider with every word. ‘You don’t look like a princess,’ the boy whispered to Indie.

  Alim climbed to his feet, grim-faced. ‘Stay here,’ he said. ‘I mean … Your Majesties, please stay here. I’m going to talk to the council.’

  ‘You don’t have to call us that,’ said Indie, her cheeks flushed.

  Kai had never seen his sister look so flustered. ‘He’s a bit old for you,’ he whispered, as Alim’s footsteps faded down the stairs.

  Indie gave him a withering look. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she said.

  The meeting didn’t take long. When Alim came back to the tree house, he was holding a battered leather-bound book and his eyes were grave.

  ‘The council has consulted the runes,’ he said. ‘We leave in the morning. Sami and I will take you back to Sampa Cove. There’s a secret way the gypsies cross the mountains. We’ve sent word to the Dasa to meet us there and take you home to Ballyndor.’

  Kai began to protest, but Alim stopped him with a frown. ‘If what you say is true, then you’re in terrible danger. We’ve already lost too many children. We will not be responsible for two more.’

  Without another word, he turned and climbed the steps to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

  Kai slumped back against the cushions. ‘We shouldn’t have told him,’ he muttered.

  Indie crossed her arms and glowered at Sami, who looked at the floor.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Sami. ‘I thought the council might do that.’

  ‘Then why did you bring us here?’ Indie was so angry she could barely speak. They had come all this way, only to be sent home.

  Sami looked up. ‘The council is always deciding everything with runes. They throw the little rocks, and the symbols tell them what to do. It’s all rubbish. Old Man Kita says that life is always changing, nothing is set in stone.’

  Kai stared at him. ‘You mean Old Man Kita is not part of the council?’

  ‘Old Man Kita is a medicine man. He does whatever he likes.’

  Indie jumped to her feet. ‘Do you think he’ll help us?
’

  ‘Shh,’ said Sami, looking around. ‘Do you want Alim to hear you?’ He gave them an impish smile. ‘Of course Old Man Kita will help us. Why do you think I brought you here?’

  Chapter 13

  Old Man Kita

  Midnight came slowly, and with it the crack of thunder and flash of lightning across the black night sky. There was no moon and no stars. The rain started with heavy drips, and quickly turned into a downpour.

  Kai stood at the door to Alim’s tree house and looked out into the night. Sami stood beside him.

  ‘Alim is asleep,’ said Sami. ‘He believes we have a long journey tomorrow.’

  ‘We do,’ said Kai. ‘But not in the direction he’s thinking.’

  Indie spoke up from the floor, where she sat cross-legged, leaning back on her hands. ‘Won’t you get in trouble, Sami?’

  ‘Of course I will,’ said Sami. ‘My uncle will beat me, Alim won’t speak to me, and I’ll be forbidden to leave this place for the rest of my life.’ He grinned and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Old Man Kita is waiting,’ he said.

  Indie followed Sami and Kai over huge strangling vines, which crept between the flagstones and up through the cracks in the walls, and along overgrown pathways, slippery with moss and fallen leaves.

  Kai pushed aside a branch to let her pass, but it slipped from his fingers and hit her face with a thwack. The vines scratched her skin; the rain soaked her clothes. She brushed her wet hair out of her eyes and kept walking.

  They came to a stone staircase, leading down. Indie walked down the steep steps, through a low doorway, and into a sunken room. Water covered the floor, lapping at the toes of her boots.

  ‘It gets really deep,’ said Sami. ‘Almost over my head.’

  ‘Better get undressed,’ said Kai to Indie. He pulled off his boots and shirt, stuffed them in his pack, and held it on top of his head; then he followed Sami into the water.

  Indie ignored her brother. There was no chance she was going to strip off her clothes in this strange, cold place. What if someone came along? What if Alim saw her? She lifted her chin. She was the Emerald of Ballyndor. If she wanted to wear her clothes in the water, she would.

  Indie regretted her decision before they were even halfway across the room. The floor dropped away quickly, and she lost her footing. She began to swim, her boots dragging in the water, her shirt floating out behind her like a sail.

  ‘I told you to take your clothes off,’ said Kai, as he watched her struggle.

  ‘I prefer to wear them,’ said Indie, through gritted teeth. ‘They’re keeping me warm.’

  Kai shrugged. ‘Suit yourself,’ he said.

  On the other side of the room there was a pyramid of smoky grey crystal built into the limestone wall. It shimmered, throwing patterns of light around the room. At the front was a small opening and, as they drew closer, Indie could see that it was some sort of slide, white and smooth, winding down.

  ‘You really need to take off your boots,’ said Sami, as he waded to the opening and crawled inside. He sat on the edge of the slide, preparing to push off.

  Kai crawled in behind him. Indie followed, wriggling in to sit beside her brother. Refusing to look at him, she bent forward and untied her dripping laces, before peeling the wet boots from her feet.

  ‘They’ll take ages to dry,’ said Kai, with a satisfied smirk.

  ‘I wish you’d stop talking,’ said Indie.

  The slide was long and steep, twisting down and down. At the bottom there was a large patch of mud. Kai shot off the end, landed on his feet with a loud squelch, and staggered to stay upright. Indie slammed into his back and they both toppled forward.

  ‘What are you doing?’ cried Kai. ‘I'm all muddy now!’

  ‘I didn’t mean it.’ Indie rubbed her leg where she had landed. ‘You should have moved out of the way.’

  She heard a low cackle of laughter. Looking up, she saw that they were in a large stone room lit by flaming torches. The only other thing in the room was a round pool, its raised edge patterned with a colourful mosaic. Beside the pool sat an old man, his britches rolled up to his knees, his bare feet dangling in the water.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ he said.

  ‘Is that Old Man Kita?’ Indie whispered to Sami, awestruck. The old man looked ancient. His face was craggy, his skin like leather. There were tiny blue beads in his hair. Most startling of all was the long purple cloak he wore, complete with gold symbols at the hem.

  ‘That’s a Kalika cloak,’ said Kai.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ said the old man.

  ‘But how can that be? Those cloaks are special. Only the medicine men and the wise women of the forest have them. We don't trade them. We would never give them away.’

  The old man smiled. He touched the symbols on the hem of his cloak, sliding the purple cloth through his bony fingers. For a moment he was quiet, and then he said, ‘Do you know how the gypsies came to this place?’

  ‘I thought they must have built it,’ said Kai.

  ‘No. They are traders, free people who have always roamed the wild lands. They do not build cities.’

  ‘Then whose city is it?’ asked Indie, her eyes wide.

  ‘Haven’t you guessed?’ said the old man. ‘Look at the paintings, the symbols on the walls. Look at the great sun carved into the square. Look at the houses with winding steps, built high in the trees.’

  ‘It’s a Kalika city,’ whispered Kai.

  Indie frowned. ‘But the Kalika don’t have cities.’

  ‘Welcome to Taka,’ the old man said.

  Kai and Sami pulled their clothes back on. They sat on the edge of the pool, listening to the old man talk.

  ‘When I was a little boy in Nagara,’ he said. ‘I met a young Kalika woman, a healer who could talk to the nature spirits. She taught me everything I know.’

  He looked at them closely. ‘She told me the Kalika were not always as they are now. In ancient times, when they first came to Moto from the lands beyond the silver veil, they were hailed by the Veladin and the Dasa tribes of the mountains as great kings and queens. They had wisdom, knowledge, and powerful magic. The city of Taka was the envy of the world.’

  ‘What happened?’ asked Indie. ‘If the Kalika were so powerful and so magical, what went wrong?’

  The old man sighed. ‘Ships arrived from over the sea,’ he said. ‘The ships carried a warlike people who built the city of Nagara. They named all the land as far as the mountains “Moto” and claimed it as their own. In the North, more ships came and settled the land of Gort, and the city of Ballyndor was born.’

  ‘Did they hurt the Kalika people?’ asked Indie.

  ‘In a way,’ said the old man. ‘There was a terrible drought, and no amount of magic would make it rain. It was as if the clouds had dried up and disappeared forever. The crops died. The people were hungry. Even with magic, you can’t make food from nothing. But the land was barren, and the underground river was dry.

  ‘They would have survived, but fighting broke out. War between families. And when at last the rains came, tragedy struck. The waters rose. The river flooded. Thousands died. They fled Taka, seeking a home in Nagara, but the soldiers held them back. The emperor said there were too many, they would have to go somewhere else. So they came at last to the Kalika Forest, and took refuge high in the trees.

  ‘They kept to themselves, made a treaty with Ballyndor, and lived in peace. The jungle swallowed the city of Taka, and after hundreds of years, people forgot about it – until the gypsies, persecuted by the emperor, were led here by a great Kalika chief.’

  Indie remembered the statue Kai had touched in the square, how familiar the man’s face had been. Then it dawned on her. She had seen the same face floating above her at the old stables, just before they exploded.

  ‘Chief Wicasa,’ she whispered.

  The old man smiled. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Wicasa found the gypsies locked in the dungeons and starving in the streets of Nagara. He sho
wed us the way to this forgotten place. The young woman, my teacher, came here with us.’ He gazed off into the distance, remembering. ‘She loved Wicasa,’ he said. ‘He called her his apiki flower.’

  The pool began to bubble and churn. Old Man Kita climbed to his feet, muttering and groaning. ‘Hurry,’ he said. ‘It is time.’

  ‘But the apiki flower – ’ said Kai.

  ‘You’ll have to hear the rest of the story when you come back. The way to Nagara is open. We must hurry.’

  Indie looked at the pool. It had changed from clear blue to a murky grey. ‘You're joking,’ she said. ‘I’m not going in there.’

  ‘It’s the only way,’ said the old man.

  ‘How do you know it’s safe? Have you been through there before?’

  ‘Well, no. But I’ve sent many others through.’

  Kai looked into the water. He saw different colours coming together to form pictures. There was Aunty Mai sitting in her tree house, surrounded by her herbs and potions; his mother pacing the halls of the castle; his father riding out with his army. Then the water darkened again. It swirled and foamed.

  A face looked out at him. Cruel eyes, black spectacles, hair pulled tight at the neck.

  He knew that face. He would never forget it.

  ‘Sofia,’ he whispered.

  The eyes flashed with recognition; the mouth twisted into a sneer. And then she was gone.

  ‘The gypsies call this pool the mura,’ said the old man. ‘It reflects your deepest fears. Anything you have locked away in your head, even the things you have forgotten, can appear in the water.’

  ‘Do many people come down here?’ asked Kai.

  ‘No,’ said the old man. ‘Most people hate to be shown their fears. They pretend they don’t have any.’

  Kai put out his hand and dipped his fingers in the water. It was surprisingly warm. He sat down on the edge. He had stepped into portals before, journeyed with the spirits to other realms, but he was nervous about this. Something didn’t feel right.