Indy jerked his head back. "Who was that?"
"Listen!" Salandra hissed.
A jabber of voices. "What is it? Can you understand them?"
She listened a moment longer, then nodded. "They're coming. We've got to go. Come with me, hurry!"
"Who's coming?"
"Maleiwa and his men. They've breached the gate. They're on the mountain."
She tugged once on his arm, then let go and dashed toward the house as the men poured out. She glanced back to where he stood in the darkness, and motioned him to join her. But he didn't move.
"Indy!"
"No!" he yelled. "I'm not going any farther." He strode away in the opposite direction, proving to himself that he could break the spell that Salandra seemed to hold over him. When he reached the edge of the clearing, he paused, remembering the snake had gone this way. But there was no sign of it. Impulsively, he glanced back.
Salandra and the Kogis had already vanished into the forest. Indy stood there a moment, wondering if he'd made a mistake. Too late now. He plunged into the forest. The further he could get tonight, the better. He'd walk until dawn, then rest for a few hours. The sooner he got off the mountain, the happier he'd be. He wanted nothing more to do with Kogis or Wayua, Maleiwa or Salandra. It was over for him. It was definitely over.
19
Into the Interior
Salandra raced into the night with the Kogis. The Indians moved swiftly along the trails, and eventually blended into the forest. She stopped, uncertain which way to go. Maleiwa's warriors were nearby. She sensed it in every pore of her body.
The Kogis couldn't stop Maleiwa once he'd crossed through the gate, and now the Gatekeepers were scattering across the mountain, heading for secret hiding places as their ancestors had done centuries ago, when the conquistadors had driven them from their villages.
She wondered if she should have stayed With Indy. But she'd panicked and run when he refused to go with her. She should go back and find him. She was certain that Maleiwa was here because he had realized that Indy was on the mountain, and heading for the gate. That was the only explanation that made sense to her. He was here to kill Indy, the only person in either world who could disrupt his plans.
The two men who had rushed to the house with the news had been among those guarding the gate when Maleiwa's forces arrived. As they'd entered the clearing, they'd cried out that Maleiwa carried a magical weapon that allowed him to breach the gate. She had no doubt they were talking about the unicorn's horn.
She heard a thrashing sound a short distance away. She turned to flee, but voices surrounded her. The forest was alive with Maleiwa's men, and there was no time to escape, nowhere to go. She closed her eyes, squatted down and concentrated. She said a few words under her breath. She felt the familiar dizzying sensation brought on by transformation. Then, for several seconds, she was unaware of anything.
A falcon flapped its wings and flew for cover in the forest canopy. A moment later, several tall men armed with dart guns strode across the very place where Salandra had stopped on the trail.
A few minutes earlier, Indy had wanted nothing more than to get out of here. Now, as he headed through the dark forest, he suddenly felt a sense of uncertainty. He was free to leave, and no one was around to try to stop him. Yet, he regretted the way he'd left Salandra. Not that he hadn't warned her.
No, he told himself. He'd made the right decision to strike out on his own, to head home. Besides, her last-ditch ploy to change his mind had been ridiculous. Pathetic, he told himself. She'd tried to make it seem as if they were sort of like brother and sister, or even closer. Had she really thought that would make him go with her? Now he wondered if even the supposed arrival of Maleiwa and his troops might have been another ruse to keep him from leaving. If there was an army on the mountain, he certainly wasn't aware of it. Maybe Ricardo had dreamed it up. Strange kid.
Don't think about it, none of it, Indy told himself. He stumbled over a root. Maybe he should just set up his hammock somewhere and go to sleep. Why should he walk all night? He'd sleep and forget about everything. Salandra. Maleiwa. Ricardo. Mama Juan. All of them.
A branch snapped to his right, nearby. He paused. Listened. Footsteps. Someone was hurrying along the same animal trail. The forest was thick around him, leaving just one way to go. He hurried down the trail. After a couple of minutes, he stopped to catch his breath. Now he didn't hear anything. He started ahead again, but stopped short when someone stepped out of the trees, blocking his way. Ricardo.
"You trying to scare me, kid? What are you doing here?"
"Hi, Indy. I don't want you to lose your way."
"Don't worry about it. I've found my way this far, and I figure I can make it down this mountain the same way I made it up. By my own two feet."
"But, Indy, you're going the wrong way. You've got to help us stop Maleiwa." Ricardo was pleading with him now.
"What's your story, anyhow?"
"My father was killed because he opposed Maleiwa when his troops arrived in Pincoya. My mother and I were going into hiding when we were caught. I got away, but I don't know what happened to her." His voice trailed off. "I found my way to the gate, and the Kogis took me in."
"Don't you need nalca?"
"Of course, and I have to go back soon. Will you come with me?"
"It's not my battle, Ricardo."
"It's everyone's battle, Indy. Everyone who can help, and you can help more than anyone. Many people from my world know what's going on, and some of us know about you, too. Some think you're a myth. They even think your world is a myth." He grinned, his white teeth lining up in his mouth like a freshly painted picket fence. "But I know you're real."
The sharp call of a bird cut through the quiet. Indy glanced up, glimpsed wings and a beak, and ducked. Feathers fluttered against his hair. "I thought birds were supposed to sleep at night," he muttered.
"An omen," Ricardo said.
"No, just a bird," Indy responded.
The sound of voices silenced him. He and Ricardo backed into a thicket of ferns seconds before a dozen men, armed with crossbows like the ones Indy had seen in Pincoya, strode down the trail, passing within several feet of them.
"What are they doing here?" Indy whispered. "I thought Maleiwa wanted to make a deal with Hitler. He lives on another continent."
"They're looking for you," Ricardo said.
"Me!"
"Shh!"
Someone else was moving down the trail. Indy tensed. Whoever it was had stopped. Ferns rustled. Belatedly, he reached for his whip, and then he saw Mama Juan's face. The old Kogi priest motioned for them to come out.
"There are hundreds of Wayua on the mountain. They know you are here. You must come with me. Quickly. Or they will find you."
"Swell." Indy wasn't sure he wanted to follow the Kogi anywhere. But he didn't like the idea of getting caught by Maleiwa's men. "Okay. Lead the way."
They charged through the forest, and once again Indy lost all sense of place. He kept his eyes on Mama Juan's white cotton tunic and forgot about everything. His blistered feet felt surprisingly better after Salandra's ministrations, but he still had a difficult time keeping up with the elderly Kogi. While Indy thrashed against the underbrush, Mama Juan seemed to glide through it. Every so often Indy heard a sound behind him, and knew that Ricardo was keeping up with them. If Maleiwa's men were all over the mountain, Mama Juan was somehow finessing a route that missed all of them.
Indy lost track of time as well as place. Mama Juan's tunic had turned into a dove gracefully flapping its wings, and Indy's strides became longer and longer and the thicket seemed to bend out of his way. It was as if they were part of a current which flowed through the forest. He was not only picking up speed; he was no longer gasping for breath. He'd gotten a second wind, but it was more than that. It was as if he had a second body he'd never known about.
Suddenly, a huge ceiba tree seemed to appear out of nowhere. It stood out, luminous against the
night, separate from the forest. They were rushing toward it, and it was as if there were no other trees around them. Indy wanted to stop and gaze at the tree, but before he could slow down, the dove that was Mama Juan flew right into it and vanished. Indy tried to stop, but instead he was catapulted toward the tree. At the last second he saw a gaping hole in the trunk and realized that the Kogi must have ducked into it.
He dropped to his hands and knees, crawled into the opening, and immediately tumbled down a slope of gnarled roots. A shelter of some sort, hollowed out inside the tree, he thought. A great hiding place. But when he looked up, he saw he was not inside the tree at all. A hole opened up in front of him. The same hole in the same trunk of the same luminous tree. It had to be some sort of optical illusion. He was sure that he had already entered the tree.
Indy called out to Mama Juan. There was no answer, and where was Ricardo? He tried to look around, but couldn't take his eyes from the hole in the trunk. He didn't know what else to do but crawl into the hole again. This time, though, the floor was flat, and felt like compacted earth and rock. Indy kept crawling, afraid that if he looked up, he would find another illusion.
Finally, he decided to see where he was. The darkness had been replaced by a pale gray light. Yet it was too early for dawn. He wasn't in the tree. In fact, there wasn't a single tree in sight. He stood up and felt a cool wind, as he stared out over a vast rocky, desolate plateau. Not far from him the land abruptly ended.
"Hey! There you are!" Indy spotted Mama Juan standing by a mound of rocks near the edge of the plateau. He waved, but the Kogi priest wasn't looking his way. Indy hurried ahead, and as he neared Mama Juan he glimpsed several floating islands. No, not islands, but mesas or buttes that rose high above a grassy plain hundreds of feet below them.
"Where are we, anyhow?"
Mama Juan turned and peered at him, but said nothing. Indy already knew the answer. The mesas in the distance were tilted, curving upward toward the silver sky. He was back in the interior world, right where he didn't want to be, and he was feeling heavy and drowsy.
"Roraima. We are on top of a tepui." It wasn't Mama Juan who had spoken, but a man who had been standing out of sight by the rocks. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and bearded. He had peculiar green eyes that were somehow familiar.
"Who are you?"
"I am Vicard."
"Do I know you?"
"You know me as—"
Indy staggered a couple of steps. The interior world was pressing in upon him. He felt as if he was about to be crushed, about to melt into a puddle. It was happening all over again. Whatever else Vicard said, Indy heard none of it. He tottered and collapsed.
Hours had passed since Maleiwa's men had started scouring the mountain. Salandra, still in the shape of a falcon, was perched on the spindle that protruded through the top of a Kogi temple, the largest of the buildings in the village. Cone-shaped roofs of the other houses surrounded her, but the village was quiet, and it wasn't because the Kogis were asleep. They'd all fled when the Wayua warriors had poured through the gate.
Now, peering through a small opening at the base of the spindle, she watched the tall, bald man as he paced in front of his chiefs, who had assembled to report to their leader. Maleiwa was draped in the traditional Wayua tunic that ended at midthigh and was tied at his waist with a wide cloth belt. She knew that when, and if, he met Hitler, Maleiwa would wear not only different clothing, but a different face, one which would appeal to Hitler's image of the superior man.
Maleiwa was not a shape shifter like herself, but an adept illusion shaper, who could appear to others as he wished without making an actual transformation. No doubt his skin would be pale and he would be as blond as Beitelheimer, whom Hitler had mistakenly believed to be a man of the interior world. But Beitelheimer had abandoned his mission, and now the Wayua leader had to act quickly or he would lose the confidence of his potential ally.
As Maleiwa spoke, she anxiously listened to every word. "Call the men back," he said. "They won't find him. He's not on the mountain."
"Are you certain?" one of his chiefs asked.
"Of course I am. I can feel that he is gone, and I know where he went. He's back in our world. That's the only place he could have gone. Otherwise, I would know he is here. But we'll find him."
Had Indy really gone back? Salandra wondered. She'd searched the mountain, but found no trace of him. She had to trust Maleiwa's second sight. It was not only strongly developed, but she was sure that the unicorn's horn was helping him to detect Indy's whereabouts.
The falcon soared from the top of the temple and flew higher up the mountain. It was finally dawn, and the outline of the snowy peaks stood out clearly against the pale blue morning sky. She flew over alder and myrtle and laurel and innumerable varieties of wild flowers. It was cooler here, almost too cold for a falcon. But she wouldn't be here for long, nor would she remain a falcon.
She circled over a rocky ledge, and spotted the dark opening. Nearby, several Wayua warriors guarded the entrance. One of them looked up and pointed at the falcon as it swept down and grazed their heads. They ducked, then aimed their weapons, firing darts wildly, but Salandra was already past them and winging through the dark cave toward a distant circle of light.
She emerged in a vast grassland where the familiar tepuis of Roraima jutted hundreds of feet into the air. Some of them were dry and rocky, while others were covered with jungle and inhabited by strange creatures. But Roraima was known for its wild and deadly beasts. That was why the population lived in protected areas within the tepuis. Yet, they felt neither trapped nor frightened by their surroundings. Roraimans could usually sense trouble before it arrived, and they knew how to avoid it when journeying outside of their tepuis.
Salandra flew low over the tepui, itself known as Roraima, that housed the largest city in the region. An area atop the massive tepui was a garden, and she could see dozens of Roraimans strolling along the paths. If they were concerned about Maleiwa's takeover of Pincoya, none of them showed any sign of it.
The Roraimans were physically notable for their long ears, which extended two or three inches longer than those of their short-eared Wayua neighbors. The Roraimans were the first to inhabit the exterior world, and their heritage was still visible in the moais of Easter Island.
The Roraimans dressed in a similar fashion to the Kogis, wearing baggy white pants and long tunics, except they also wore rounded, white hats with a short rim all the way around. The first time she had seen a bowler in the exterior world, she had stopped and stared in fascination. Except for their color, and the fact that in the exterior they were worn only by men, they were almost identical to the Roraiman headgear.
She landed in a tree on the tepui and tried to feel Indy's presence. Instead, she immediately sensed Wayua guards. So they were here, quietly watching, and controlling. She spotted a pair of the robed guards with their crossbows. Then she saw several Roraimans gathered near a fountain, and she flew to another tree. They were discussing the situation with the Wayua.
"They will make Roraima safe for us," said a woman who was about Salandra's age. "They will destroy the wild beasts once and for all, and we can live peacefully outside of the tepuis."
"We can never live in peace as long the Wayua control us," a young man countered. "We've got to stop them, and the sooner the better."
Suddenly, a dart struck the man in the back, and the Wayua guards she'd seen rushed forward and dragged him away. So that was how it was, she thought.
She scanned again for Indy, just to make sure she had not missed him. But then she picked up something else. A signal meant only for her. Vicard!
He wasn't here, but he wasn't far away. The falcon took wing again, its heart pounding. Salandra shifted directions when she felt the pull weakening. Then it grew stronger and stronger, and she soared with the wind. She lost track of time and distance. Finally, she circled a barren tepui. She was far from the center of Roraima, actually very near Wayua. Then s
he saw him, waiting.
She landed a short distance away. The falcon flapped its wings for the last time as a whirlwind swirled around it. The bird vanished from sight, and when the whirlwind dissipated, Salandra was squatting on the ground, her face pressed against her knees. Slowly, she unfolded herself, stood up, then smiled broadly and raced toward the tall bearded man.
King Vicard. Her father.
20
On the Tepui
The voice came out of a dream. Salandra stood in front of him, an illusion wearing a gauzelike gown that bunched around her ankles. The wind blew through her copper hair, which brushed against her cheeks. Her emerald eyes shone brightly, and her mouth was turned up in a smile.
"Indy, wake up... wake up."
Her image blurred, then came back into focus. "But you'll disappear."
She laughed. "You're half asleep, but you can wake up all the way now."
Slowly, he pushed up on his elbows. Salandra was here, and so was the bearded man, Vicard, tapping a finger against his chin. Indy looked around and tried to take in everything at once. He was in a room with stone walls, lying on a pile of blankets. But the room was roofless; it looked out onto the silver sky.
He closed his eyes, opened them again. It was still the same. "Salandra... what are... you doing here... and where... are we?" His tongue was thick; his words slurred.
"You're in Roraima. Here, take this. It'll help you." She passed him a cup.
He looked into it and saw a thick, yellowish liquid. "Nalca?"
She nodded. "You need some more."
He sipped it, and made a face. "How long have I been here?"
"More than a week."
Indiana Jones and the Interior World Page 16