by S. S. Segran
The Sentry was frustrated and battered. Tegan sat cross-legged on the dirt, silent and still. Aari turned his head from one to the other. “So Tony wasn’t after our families, then.”
“Apparently not,” Marshall said. “I’ve told Colback what happened, but your families will still be moved to Dema-Ki. He and Gareth are trying to convince them to leave as we speak, but it’s not an easy task. And they haven’t said a word about either Kody’s or Jag’s situations.”
“Smart,” Tegan said.
“Deceitful,” Aari retorted.
“It’s called strategy, Aari. All we can do is move things on our end and find those seeds, and hope that Jag . . .” She wavered, then asked, “You good to enter Lucius’s memories again? We brought you back to Carmel’s grave and waited for you to wake up.”
Aari gawked at her. How is she doing that? Continuing like . . . like some kind of machine?
She stared back, prompting him with her eyes. He stood up. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Perfect. That grave marker had better work.”
“I wonder why the letters stopped functioning to begin with,” Marshall said.
“Carmel’s death was a huge blow to Lucius.” Aari found the stone slab a few feet away and knelt by it. “Maybe it erased everything after that? Or maybe there was nothing emotional enough to constitute another geo-marker? It could be anything.”
He touched the Hebrew script at the center of the slab surrounded by various tribal markings, beseeching quietly, Please work.
He saw the flash and would have leapt for joy if he could. The feeling fled when Lucius held up his deeply tanned and wrinkled hands. He’s aged!
Lucius sat in front of Carmel’s resting place in the wide clearing. The box of seeds lay in his lap, the brass engravings on the lid dulled with time. In a voice roughened by years passed, he said, “I kept my promise to her. I kept the seeds safe.”
A black man in a long loincloth, perhaps forty years of age, was seated beside him. He took one of the Roman’s hands in his own, holding it tightly. Aari tried to remember why he seemed familiar and realized that this was the little boy he’d often seen with Carmel and Lucius.
“You were faithful to her in more ways than one,” the man said tenderly. “You’ve lived your whole life as though she was still by your side.” He touched Lucius’s face and his eyes welled. “And now . . .”
Lucius brought his forehead to the younger man’s, his own eyes dampening. “Do not cry.”
“You and Carmel looked after me as if I was your own child, even when my mother was still alive. Then both she and Carmel died defending the Tree of Life and you took me in.” The man broke down, his body shivering with every wave of tears. “I know that we do not have long together. You will join Carmel soon. The selfish side of me wants to beg you to fight to stay, but it isn’t my place. I want you to be free. To be whole.”
The Roman’s eyelids slid shut. “You were one of the best things that happened to me,” he whispered. “You gave me reason to get up every morning after my heart was broken. You may not be my blood, but I am proud to call you my son.”
They held each other, taking a few moments to gather themselves. Then the younger man pulled back and tried for a smile. “I want you to go in peace, Lucius. I’ve already given you my word that I will protect the seeds. I know a safe place in this mountain to hide the box from human hands. The tribe and I will not let you down. I promise.”
At the sound of a quiet trumpet, they looked behind them. A herd of African elephants stood watching them with the rest of the tribe. The largest female approached Lucius and caressed his head with her trunk. Lucius beamed tiredly at the immense creature.
“Thank you for carrying me all the way here,” he said. “You have been a wonderful addition to our big family over the years. Not just as protectors, but as friends.”
The elephant gently wrapped her trunk around him as if hugging the frail man. Her eight-foot-long tusks and massive ears threw curved shadows on the ground around him. Finally, she stepped back and bowed, the elephants behind her doing the same. The tribe followed their lead, some of them trying to hide their weeping.
Lucius looked at all of them with a lump in his throat, and Aari felt an entrenched sense of finality. The Roman’s adopted son took the box of seeds and rested it by his side. When the man turned his head, Lucius saw the three small triangles tattooed behind his ear. He smiled and softly ran a finger over it as the younger man made room for Lucius to lean against his chest, holding him close. Lucius didn’t fight the growing fatigue. As his vision dimmed, he felt two wet drops on his cheeks.
“Do not cry, my son,” he murmured. The arms tightened around him in response.
The darkness became whole. There was a feeling of levity, as if the weight of the world had been shed. Then—
Light. An all-encompassing brightness. And warmth like nothing Aari had ever known. It lingered as though time didn’t exist, then slowly faded into nothingness.
Slowly, the teenager returned to himself. He lay cradled in Tegan’s arms and for a moment wondered if it was he who had died, not Lucius.
“Aari?” Tegan whispered.
She looked overwrought. Beside her, Marshall wore the same expression. Aari gazed past them at the blue sky through breaks in the canopy, unblinking. A few tears eased out.
Tegan lightly shook him. “Aari, talk to us. Please.”
He sat up and dried his eyes, then croaked, “Lucius passed away here.”
“He . . . you mean, you . . .” Marshall faltered.
“Yeah. I experienced it.” At their perturbed looks, Aari gave a little smile. “But I’m okay. At least, I think I am. It was . . . I guess peaceful is the word. There was darkness, and then this intense illumination and all I felt was—I don’t know how to put it. The only thing I can think of is love. Love in the purest form.”
Tegan and Marshall stared at him for the longest time. Aari nodded toward the peak of Mount Meru. “The seeds are somewhere here, but I don’t know where. It seemed like they had a plan in place to guard the box for however many years. And at some point, they even managed to tame some African elephants. Do you know how hard that is to do? And they knew Lucius was dying, too. They bowed.”
Marshall listened, awe-struck, but Tegan was occupied, running her fingers over the inscription and etchings on the grave marker. She went stiff. “Those things right there,” she said, “to the right of the inscription. Do those look like three triangles to you?”
Aari examined the slab. It was difficult to identify much after centuries of weathering. “Umm, kinda. It was the tribe’s symbol or something. The boy that hung around Carmel and Lucius had a symbol like that tattooed behind his ear.”
“What?” Tegan yelped. “Why didn’t you say that earlier, you baboon?”
Aari flung his arms up to protect himself, almost certain that she was going to smack him. “Why are you getting mad at me? It didn’t seem like a big detail to talk about!”
“It is a big detail! The girl running the Nyika Wildlife Inn—she had three triangles behind her ear! I saw it when we first arrived!”
Aari gawked.
“We should go talk to her!” Marshall exclaimed. “She may know something about the seeds. Tegan, can you scout ahead and see if she’s at the inn?”
Aari kept his arms up, still convinced he’d get smacked, but when Tegan closed her eyes to find an animal to use, he lowered his defenses. A rampant itch made him scratch his calf, and when he pulled up the hem of his cargo pants, he found a minute hole surrounded by red skin. Guess that’s where the tranquilizer found its mark. Jeez, it was ridiculously fast-acting. By the time I felt it, I couldn’t even move.
When Tegan returned to them a while later, her tone was sharp. “I’ve looked everywhere but I can’t find the woman.”
“Maybe she’s on a break,” Marshall said.
“No, you don’t understand. The entire place was closed. Shut down. Like she’d up
and left.”
The Sentry let out a long breath. “I honestly have nothing to say now. It’s been one roadblock after another.”
Tegan muttered an agreement, then lasered in on the grave marker. “Aari, if Lucius died, there wouldn’t be any more memories, would there? No way to find the seeds.”
“Probably not.” Aari stared at the dirt, then his face hardened. “But I need to try. I have to. People are dying every day by the tens of thousands, if not hundreds. The body count could be close to three million by now. Mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters. Entire families just gone. And Kody . . .”
He turned his attention to the slab. Can you pull off a miracle for me? he coaxed. Give me anything. Anything at all. The trail can’t stop here.
Bracing himself, he touched the stone. No flash greeted him this time. He stubbornly pushed his hand down harder, feeling the skin on his palm press into the rough center engraving. Something. Anything. Please.
Brightness flared behind his eyes, and it was as if something had pulled all the air and sound out of the world with a cosmic inhale. The only words Aari could use to describe what he felt was a sensation of floating, of being but not being. He found himself on a mountain face with a forest just below. Above him, the tree line ended abruptly, instead becoming an uneven incline of hardened lava and ash that had flowed as molten rock from the mountain’s peak ages ago. In the distance behind him, half of the sun was hidden beneath the horizon.
He had no control as he drifted past the forest toward the edge of the tree line and entered a shallow cave hidden by foliage. In the center, atop a chest-high granite pedestal, rested a box. At least, it looked like a box. It seemed to be entirely made of clay. He moved closer, then smiled inwardly.
On the surface of the case, three triangles were etched in a row.
He floated around the granite stand until he faced the mouth of the cave. The sun had disappeared, leaving behind a reigning night sky. Inexplicable contentment swelled in him even as the vision faded, contentment that wasn’t his.
Aari removed his hand from the grave marker, noting the red impressions left on his palm by the etchings, then turned to Marshall with a jubilant grin. “I know where the seeds are!”
“You actually found them?” Tegan shrieked.
Marshall looked exultant as well as startled. “You . . . saw? But Lucius died, didn’t he?”
“He did,” Aari affirmed.
“So what are you saying?”
“I have no idea. I just know what I saw. Teegs, can you find a way to scout the western face of Meru? The seeds are in a cave on the other side of the mountain, somewhere along the boundary where the tree line meets the rocky surface at the top.”
She sat back, immobile. Aari and Marshall waited, giving her space to mind-link. Many long minutes later, her eyes flickered open in disappointment. “There’s nothing there. I’ve searched all four miles of the tree line. There’s no opening.”
“It’s a cave, Tegan,” Aari said. “How can it not be there?”
“You tell me, Brainiac. We know this isn’t just a mountain. It’s a dormant volcano, which means it was once active. Which means at some point in the past nineteen-hundred years, it probably erupted.”
“And lava could have covered the cave entrance when it solidified,” Aari moaned.
“Doesn’t matter,” Marshall said firmly. “We’ll destroy the mountainside if we have to, to find the seeds. We just need to get as close as possible.”
“Aari, do you remember anything that could help pinpoint the location?” Tegan asked.
Aari covered his face, thinking hard and muttering to himself. Then he jerked up. “Ravines! There were three of them leading down the mountain. The cave was located right above the ravine in the middle on the edge of the tree line.”
It took only moments for Tegan to confirm the landmark. She grabbed her tranquilizer gun and sprung to her feet. “We should get moving. Sun sets in a couple of hours.”
There were no real trails on the western face of Meru, prompting Tegan to utilize both four-legged and winged creatures to guide them through the forest. As they climbed higher, Marshall communicated with Dominique who informed them that Kody was awake. She insisted she had rested enough in the past three hours and both she and Kody demanded to join them. When Marshall reluctantly gave in, Tegan sent a bird to escort the African Sentry and the teenagers with her. The two groups met an hour later at the exact spot Aari had seen in his vision. Dominique refused help and as she limped determinedly along, Aari hoped that her wound wasn’t going septic.
He chugged the last of his water, then bent over with his hands on his knees. His legs were on fire from the grueling trek and he was sure he’d left a lung halfway down the mountain. He looked over at Kody, worried. If it was this hard for a healthy person, it couldn’t have been good for him. Or Domi. Or Mr. I-was-just-lightly-choked. Man, we are not in good shape.
The six of them spread out, searching for hints of a cave opening until the sun started to disappear. They reconvened, exhausted, sweaty and hungry. None of them had the energy or the mood to soak in the breathtaking view of the savannah’s vanishing glow in the last minutes before nightfall. Kody’s worsening headache made him more irritable; he’d lashed out at least once at everyone. He sat beside Dominique now, head between his knees, as the others gathered wood for a fire and made camp. Mariah rubbed the back of his neck to try to ease his tension.
By the time the stars made their appearance and the temperature dropped, the group was huddled together near the flames. Aari couldn’t believe their rotten luck. Every step of the way, we’ve had one obstruction or another, he thought. Jag’s gone. We’re literally right on top of the very thing that could save Kody, save the rest of humanity, and even that is blocked! Why are we tested over and over and over? Why can’t we just get a clean break for once? Why are we the ones with this weight on our shoulders? Why us?
Too drained to carry on his internal tirade, he fell into the blackest of sleeps on his makeshift bed of twigs and dried leaves.
Cacophonous trumpeting awoke the group. The fire had turned to embers but the moonlight illuminated everything in perfect clarity. Aari, his ears still ringing and his heart racing, gasped at the sight only yards away from the friends and Sentries.
Three African elephants, all ten feet at the shoulder, glared down at them. They trumpeted again, and from behind them, twenty silhouettes emerged, brandishing flaming torches.
Aari watched as one shape approached the six of them. The light from the torch danced off a half-face tribal mask. A hand lifted the mask back so it rested on top of the head, and Aari’s eyes widened.
It was the young woman from the inn.
As the rest of the masked forms circled them, she pointed a finger at the group and snarled. “You are not welcome here.”
60
Nageau didn’t need his hypersenses to hear the loud voice coming from the Elders’ assembly neyra as he passed it. He raced inside and clambered down the stairs where he found Magèo and his apprentice raiding the cellar. Books and scrolls lay askew on tables. Wincing at the mess, Nageau strode up to the older man as he perused a shelf. “Magèo!”
The scientist looked up, agitation in his different-colored eyes. “What?” he snapped.
Nageau tempered his approach. “You know the archives are off-limits without an Elder present in the neyra.”
Magèo waved him off. “If that is your biggest worry, old friend, then I have nothing to say to you.”
“Actually, my biggest worry is for these precious artifacts.”
Magèo’s black-and-ginger-haired apprentice scurried over to clean up a stack of volumes on a table. “We apologize, Elder Nageau! I have been telling him to take it easy, but you know how he is once he has locked onto a particular task.”
“All too well, unfortunately,” the Elder said. He helped the girl put another stack of books onto a nearby table.
Magè
o grumbled. “Nal, have you got one of those things you tie your hair with?”
“Do you mean this?” Nal passed him a hairband from her wrist.
The old man tied his flowing gray beard into a knot. “Much better. Thank you.” He marched to a table and upturned a crate of ancient scrolls.
“How goes the search?” Nageau whispered to Nal.
The girl sighed, and the Elder noticed how worn and strained she seemed. Her cheeriness had vanished in the past weeks and she hardly smiled anymore. Without meeting his eyes, she said, “We have looked through half of these texts and are yet to find the missing piece of the scroll about the Tree of Life. I cannot say that it goes well at all.”
“That boy just had to inquire about the seeds,” Magèo ranted from the other side of the cellar. “And now the Chosen Ones are inches away from finding the box, and we still have no inkling as to why our ancestors did not want to share this gift with the world! What is the big secret?”
He slammed another crate onto the table and paused to collect himself, then faced Nageau. “I ask that you do not mistake my frustration for anger at Jag. Truthfully, I am amazed that he saw this entire mess from an angle no one else did. Not me, not even the Elders.”
Nageau pushed back his short, wispy hair and avoided looking at the older man. Magèo noticed his change in posture and gave the Elder his complete attention. “Nageau? What is it?”
“We just got news from Marshall . . .” Nageau almost couldn’t bring himself to speak. “We think that Jag has been captured.”
Magèo blinked at him once, the lines on his face scrunched, then spun on his heel and emptied another crate. Nageau continued halfheartedly. “For whatever reason, the harbinger of darkness has been restrained when it comes to harming the Chosen Ones. The Elders and I have reason to believe that Jag should, for the time being, be safe.”
“And how long will that last?”
Nageau had no answer to give. Magèo kept his mouth firmly closed, so the Elder took his leave.
Outside, under the cover of dark clouds and snowcapped pine trees, Nageau rested heavily against the log wall of the neyra. He’d felt powerless many times during his leadership of the council of Elders, but nothing matched the burden he now experienced—except when he had banished Reyor from their home.