“I see it,” he said, flinging his arm forward. “And good news! We’ll have that stream with us; it flows straight to the hill and then curves.”
“Come on now,” Aunt Gina said after Manu descended, and they began their journey.
***
The Dwarfy Dwarf castle was dark as always. Not that light was scant, only its inhabitants hated the name of it. Anyhow, they did not require it at all since darkness enabled them to see. What more, its mistress, Mai Canniola—three witches who had found residence in one body—had made sure her castle was wholly light-proof by using her strongest of light repelling spells. She also disapproved of her dear Assurs going out of the castle during daytime.
Today, she sat on her majestic throne as always, scratching her misty yellow teeth with her misty deformed nails. In front of her was a golden stool on which a purple cat sat, licking his paws.
“Is she replaced?” the Purple One asked.
“Yes, and quite successfully,” Mai Canniola replied with a glint of pride in her eyes. “For now, Milli is playing the part. So, we don’t need her any longer, do we? The Assurs can have a feast.” The Assurs cheered, howling in appreciation. A smile crept onto Canniola’s lips; the Assurs were halfmen, halfbugs, and her ever-loyal slaves. She liked them to be rewarded once in a while and enjoyed seeing the savagery of their merrymaking.
“No,” said the Purple One, taut, quietening the Assurs all at once. “We don’t know what use we may need her for and when. Milli will do her job well—there is no doubt to that—but it cannot be said at what turn we shall require the real one. At best, we keep her in a place that is not in a stone’s throw so we are not tempted to kill her.”
“Gullop?” said Mai Canniola, her smile gone, knowing that the purple one’s “we” meant she and her Assurs. “The barren rock of an island; what do you say?”
“Yes, that can suffice,” he said, and blew his nose. “Well, it’s time I get involved.”
Canniola nodded.
“Bye, my dears,” said the Purple One, and with a flick of his tail, the stool was empty.
“You must do with the usual game,” Canniola told the Assurs. “Or hey! Birul and his men—they are useless now. Hunt for them at night!” The Assurs, whose faces had fallen, were revived and delighted. Mai Canniola divided herself into three and chatted with her “selves.”
***
As Viven, Manu, and Aunt Gina waddled through the forest, splashing stream water that flowed beneath their feet, they soon found how bizarre Tropagia was. From three-inch-big army ants, their lines they were careful not to disturb, to mobile plants, the flowers of which kept snapping at flies. The environment felt alien to them.
They avoided consuming the strange-looking fruits showing up every few metres. They had seen none of the like back at home. Although Sezia’s spirit had told them about the edibility of the lighter-coloured ones, they feared at selecting the wrong fruit by mistake.
But by noon, hunger and tiredness had the better of them. Walking for so long, their legs had grown sore and leady. Two kilometres of forest still lay between them and the hill; however, wearied, they gave in to some rest. They plucked three of the apple-shaped grey fruits and, prior to eating, hoped these would not be their last fruits.
“It’s not that bad,” said Manu as he munched.
Viven took a bite of his own fruit.
“It tastes like an apple,” he said. But as he chewed, he thought it tasted more like a mix of a banana and a potato.
“Mmm,” said Manu, finishing and throwing away the leftovers. “I think I’ll get another one.”
He rose and plucked another one of the grey fruits from the lower branches of the tree.
Aunt Gina exhaled.
“I pray we can get to the hill within a couple of hours. I wonder if I’ll manage it, though. Walking is such a task!”
Manu chewed on.
“And that Sezia said she’d get us as close to the axe hill as possible.”
“She must have tried her best,” said Aunt Gina, when abruptly she turned vigilant. “Hey, do you hear that?”
“What?” Viven and Manu asked.
“Someone’s crying. Can’t you hear that?”
They strained their ears. Viven heard a faint continuous weeping noise. Amongst the many sounds that the forest was ever making, it was difficult to listen to, but it existed nonetheless.
“Yes,” said Viven. “Someone’s crying!”
“We are not alone here, for sure,” said Aunt Gina.
“I feel creepy. I think we should get moving,” said Manu.
“Don’t you think we should investigate?” Aunt said. “I mean, someone might be in some trouble.”
“Investigate?” said Manu. “Are you mad, Mum?”
“Sezia said we won’t find demons when it’s still day. What if there is a person there who needs help?”
“I don’t know, Mum,” said Manu. “People don’t come to Tropagia with simple reasons.”
“A tad of looking around won’t harm, will it?” Aunt said. “The gods might help us to get back to Tempstow faster if we help whoever’s in need.”
“It won’t, actually,” said Viven, more to Manu than Aunt Gina. He knew it could be dangerous, knew it was the Tropagian forest after all, and perhaps Aunt Gina was being too thankful for being freed from the claustrophobic cell in Nascat. But he also was curious to find out who was crying. “I think we can take a look, Manu.”
“Okay,” said Manu, a little persuaded. “You never listen to me. Mark my words, this can go wrong.”
Listening hard, they moved into the woods, careful not to venture too far from the stream, peering through the trees in search for the weeping person.
Not long before, they found her: a young girl, younger than Manu by a year or two. Slumped at the foot of a tree, her clothes were torn, and nasty gashes covered her body.
“Whoa!” said Manu. “Who’re you?”
The girl looked up and gasped as she saw them, not realising their presence until then. She jumped to her feet, picking up a rock the size of an adult’s fist.
“Don’t come near me!” she hissed, warningly lifting her hand that had the stone.
A little purple cat appeared from a bush nearby and brushed itself against the girl’s legs.
“Hey, calm down, calm down,” Viven said. “We don’t mean you any harm.”
“We heard you crying,” Manu said, taking a step closer to her. It wasn’t a good decision. The girl screamed and threw the rock at Manu, hitting him on the head. Viven leaped forward and, grabbing Manu’s clothes, pulled him behind himself.
“It hurts!” Manu cried.
“Who told you to go near her?” Aunt barked at him. “Hey, girl, why did you do that?”
“Go away!” the girl cried, picking up another stone in desperation.
“Hey, hey, listen,” Viven said to her. “We will not harm you!”
“Go away! GO AWAY!” And the girl threw the stone at Viven. It was going to hit his chest, but he shielded with his hand and it hit there. The pain shot up his arm.
“Urgh! All right, all right, we are going away,” he said, backing from her. “We are going away. Come on, you two,” he said to Aunt and Manu. “This wasn’t a good idea.”
They put some distance between her and them, just to assure her they meant no harm. The girl maintained her offensive pose, but after they had come significantly away from her, she sat down on the ground and sniffled.
“You sure you don’t want any help?” Viven shouted at her, shaking his hand that was still paining, two fingers having swelled. As for Manu, there was an angry red bruise on the side of his forehead where the rock had hit, and his eyes were teary. The girl didn’t reply and continued sobbing.
“I think we can go near her,” said Viven to Aunt Gina.
“You two stay here,” Aunt Gina said. “Let me try talking to her.”
Aunt Gina advanced close to the girl, not moving fast so that the latt
er may not be scared. She squatted beside the girl and placed a calm hand on her shoulder. The girl’s cat rubbed itself against Aunt Gina, who petted it. The girl looked up.
“You are not here to harm me, are you?” she said in a tiny voice, such that Viven, who was at a distance, could barely hear.
“Of course not, my child,” said Aunt Gina. “How did you end up in the forest?”
The girl was calm now and unlikely to throw more stones. Viven and Manu too went near her and Aunt Gina, not making any sudden movements.
Tears leaked from the girl’s eyes.
“My uncle brought me here . . . He killed my parents . . . He wants our wealth.”
“Your uncle?” Aunt Gina said with a gasp.
“Yes,” the girl replied. “His name is Birul Gonai. He made it look like I killed my parents!”
“What!”
“Yes. The village elders took his word, for he was powerful and they feared him. They told him to bring me to Tropagia and leave me to my fate.”
“That’s so cruel,” said Aunt Gina. “Your uncle will pay for his crime. You are so little, and he didn’t think twice about inflicting such a cruelty on you!”
“I tried to escape before he brought me here,” said the girl, “but he found me and beat me up.” The girl gritted her teeth in anger.
“H-how long have you been here alone?” Viven asked the girl with some hesitation.
She shot him a daring look, and for a moment, Viven expected another stone. Then her features softened, and she said, “He and his men left me in this place this morning.” The girl’s dark brown hair was a mess. She seemed malnourished, and all the bruises told of recent harsh treatment. But something about her said she had had a well cared for life previous to that.
“How far is your village from here?” Aunt Gina asked her.
“A long way. We took several days to get here.”
“Can you remember which way you came?” Viven asked.
“No, they blindfolded me.”
Aunt Gina enquired of her name.
“Dirita,” she said. “Dirita Gonai.”
“Would you like to come with us, child?” said Aunt.
The girl looked at the three of them, Aunt Gina, Viven, and Manu. She seemed like she was finalising whether to fully trust them or not. Her gaze lingered for just a second more on Manu and the red spot on his forehead.
“Yes, I will,” Dirita said. “Sorry,” she added to Manu, though there wasn’t any guilt in her eyes. Manu blushed.
“Yeah, all right.”
“All right, then,” said Aunt, standing up. “Let’s get back on track now; we need to get to the hill before night.”
They returned to the stream, and after feeding Dirita a few of the apple-shaped grey fruits, they continued on the trek.
They had advanced only a short distance when Manu alerted them he had spotted something, maybe an animal, moving amidst the bushes and shrubs.
“It could be anything,” said Viven. “Come fast! Sezia only said demons won’t be around during daytime. She didn’t tell anything about wild animals.”
A great beast jumped in front of them from the woods. The most fearsome of beasts this was, gigantic in size and odd being one of the scant words for its description. Its head resembled a wolf’s all right, just way bigger, but it had a hump on its back like an ox’s, and three scaled, clawed feet as the ones birds have, oversized birds, that is to say.
All of them made an instinctive dash in the opposite direction, terrorised to their cores.
“Run, run!” Viven shouted, racing faster than ever.
“Look!”Aunt Gina shrieked. With a bound, the fiend had taken to the air and crossed them overhead. Without a second’s ado, it was before them.
Everyone yelled as they almost collided with the animal from the inertia of their run.
The hulking monster roared so loud it seemed to shake the earth.
They rushed, but at that moment, there was a series of “pops,” like bubbles bursting. Through sheer magic, a wizard wearing a dirty green gown appeared by the beast. His face adorned with tattoos, he leisurely kept his arm on the beast’s hump. Viven had seen wizards and magicians in circuses before, but never this close.
“Stop, everybody, stop. Please do!” the wizard said in a dramatic tone.
“Who are you?” Viven asked, stopping and raising his hands to signal the others. This wizard had something to do with the wolf-headed animal. Otherwise, it would have been feasting on him as of now.
“Everybody ’round here calls me Luidhor. Cause ye know what? I am Luidhor!” He smiled wide, his lips stretching the breadth of his face.
Viven narrowed his brows at the wolf-animal.
“And that beast?”
“Oh,” said Luidhor, patting the beast ever so akin to an old pal. “He’s the king of my Bherias and my best friend; name’s Gyepik.”
Viven wondered if the word “friend” was applicable in this case.
“It nearly ate us!” Manu said.
“Nay,” said Luidhor. “He was playin’, that’s all.”
“Playing?” said Aunt Gina, breathing heavily and raising a brow in a displeased expression.
“Yeah, ’course. I understand ye people got a little frightened, but the thing is—What are ye doin’ in my territory? Will ye explain, please?”
“Your territory?” Viven asked.
“Yeah, ’course,” said Luidhor. “It’s my territory. Definitely not yours, I assume? Or hey.” He acquired a warning note. “Are ye Canniola’s Assurs, disguised as ordinary folks? In that case, I won’t step back from assaultin’ ye, though I’m sceptic an Assur’s tongue can ever form a word, and besides, they seldom are seen at this time of the day. This lands me in a dilemma regarding your identity, since ye speak so well.”
“Hey, listen,” said Viven, not understanding a word Luidhor was blabbing. “We don’t know what you’re speaking about. So—”
“So what? Just tell me your identity first.”
“Look,” Viven told Luidhor, “we were just passing this place when we heard this girl here crying”—he gestured toward Dirita—“and stopped to have a look. We decided to take her with us, and were continuing on our way, when that monster of yours jumped in front of us and attacked us. And then you appeared, so that’s it. There’s nothing else to tell.”
Luidhor inflated his mouth with air and thought for a moment.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Viven Bezon.” He frowned at the wizard. He hoped Luidhor would let them go by now.
“Viven Bezon,” Luidhor echoed, sounding reminiscent for some reason. “That recalls old times.”
“Can we go now?” said Aunt Gina, folding her arms.
“Wait,” said Luidhor. “Bezon . . . Um, do ye know of Algrad Bezon, er, the scientist?”
A strange itch came over Viven’s skin. What was Luidhor getting to? he wondered. It was beyond doubt he was referring to his grandfather. “The one who led an expedition to this forest?”
“Exactly,” said Luidhor, an eager expression coming over his tattooed face.
Viven glanced at the others; Aunt Gina and Manu were gaping; Dirita, however, was confused. A tense handful of seconds elapsed before he spoke. “He was my grandfather.”
Luidhor’s jaw dropped, and his eyes came to the verge of popping out.
“Don't ye move,” he said in a swift breath, and became one with the air with a “pop.”
The wolf-animal remained, though, staring at them, eyes fixed and unblinking.
“Why do all these magic people know granduncle?” Manu wondered out loud.
“That, Manu,” said Aunt Gina, “only your granduncle himself would know. Anyhow, let’s not stay here. That monster is looking too hungrily at us. And we need to get to the hill, remember?”
“Let’s move,” said Viven. “But be slow. We don’t want to provoke it, do we?”
Slowly they moved backward, one step at a time. But
the wolf-animal was not to be deceived; before long, it realized the plan they were up to.
It snarled at them and circled them, ready to pounce the moment that pleased it.
Frightened, they considered it wiser to stay still until the tattooed man returned.
And he took a long time, made so by the beast’s ever rigid glare, even if it were a trifle of minutes in reality.
And Luidhor did not reappear alone. He brought a dozen men with himself, whose height did not surpass half of a normal human’s. Height wasn’t, however, their only peculiarity; the bunch of them had a tail each, giving them an appearance of humanised monkeys.
“Which of them is he?” one of the short men said, who carried a sword that was the size of a regular knife in a sheath.
Luidhor pointed at Viven. “Him.”
“And who are the others?”
“Who are they?” Luidhor asked Viven impatiently, pointing at Manu, Aunt Gina, and Dirita.
“They are my aunt Gina, my cousin, and the girl we found,” Viven replied.
“Your aunt? You mean, your grandfather’s daughter?”
“His niece.”
“There you go, then!” Luidhor clapped his hands gleefully. “We’ve got Algrad’s niece and her son too!”
The short man stepped forward, apparently the leader.
“You.” He addressed Viven, an air of curious disbelief hanging about him. “Is Algrad Bezon your grandfather?”
The matter was getting a tad thick, the strangest of strangers questioning them about their identity. But they were greatly outnumbered, and there was the wolf-animal too. For a brief second, Viven ventured if he should lie of not bearing any relation with his grandfather and thus end the matter. But that was not possible now, not after all he had already told Luidhor. Still, he could try it . . .
“No,” he said, making himself sound as confident as possible. “He’s not my grandfather.”
“What!”Luidhor spat. “But ye told me—”
“I lied to you,” Viven cut across him. “We-we just wanted you to let us go.”
“Then why didn’t ye say ye’ve got nothin’ to do with Algrad?”
“Because . . .” Viven began, felling utterly helpless. Fortunately, Aunt Gina came to the rescue.
The Sword of Tropagia (The Advisor Trilogy Book 1) Page 4