by S. S. Segran
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 lodge.
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.
Magèo 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.
The younglings have their path to walk, but are we not supposed to protect them where we can? What are we supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?
“Grandfather!”
Two youths in buckskin tunics hastened out from between the trees. Nageau hurriedly righted himself and smoothed his cloak. The pair came to an abrupt stop in front of him and Huyani took his face in her hands, her warm brown eyes already asking the question.
“Is it true, Grandfather?” she demanded. “Has Jag really been taken?”
Nageau covered one of her hands with his and gave a barely perceptible nod. Akol raked his fingers into his cropped black hair, shaking his head uncontrollably. “I could not believe it when Grandmother told us. How did this happen?”
Huyani let go of Nageau and put her arms around her brother. He buried his face in her raven locks, head still shaking. Nageau watched them with a pang. He knew his grandchildren had a special bond with the Chosen Ones—it was Huyani who’d nursed the friends back to health after their plane crash a year and a half ago; it was Akol who’d found them when they had run away in an attempt to return to their homes, and it was they who’d kept the younglings company when Dema-Ki was a foreign place to them.
He enfolded the siblings in an embrace, feeling their arms slide around him and pull him closer. “We will get him back,” he promised quietly. “We will find out where the harbinger has taken him and we will get him back. In the meantime, pray. That is all you can do.”
“Grandfather, I am willing to go into the outside world and do more than just pray,” Akol said, stepping back. “Let me join the Sentries. Let me help find a way to bring Jag back.”
“I commend your resolve, lad, but I do not think the outside world is where you need to be in the coming months.”
“Why not?”
“Please, Akol, do not dispute me.”
The youth held his chin up, then bowed stiffly. “I should go. My shift begins soon.”
Nageau watched his grandson’s broad back retreat into the trees. Huyani sidled up to the Elder. “You know he does not mean to defy you. He just wants to help.”
Nageau kissed her cheek. “I know, and he will. Just not out there. Not yet, at least.”
She straightened his cloak and fixed his hair, then jogged after Akol. As she disappeared, Nageau thought, They will both make fine Elders one day.
He rounded the assembly neyra and headed toward one of the wooden bridges crossing the river. He found Ashack leaning against a railing, overlooking the frozen water. Ashack surely heard his approaching footsteps but didn’t stir.
Nageau propped his elbows on the railing beside the muscular Elder. “Sometimes I come here to clear my head, too.”
“Are you here to talk about what happened yesterday?”
“I had not intended to cross paths with you, but yes, at some point we will need to speak about the incident. Ashack, that was not—”
“Hutar was evasive with his answers.”
“He swore on the souls of the two people he cared about most. Do you really think he would desecrate the names of his father and uncle?”
Ashack finally turned
to Nageau, his gaze hard. “Daltair and Aydar were two of the best men I ever knew. I would like to think Hutar would not stoop to such vile levels to deceive us, but I do not know what to believe.”
“Ashack, you were there. Tikina looked him in the eyes and said he was telling the truth. And you know how perceptive she is. She cannot be lied to.”
“Maybe so, but did we ask the right questions?” Ashack pressed.
Nageau felt his mouth tighten. “What are you saying?”
Elated yelling rang from the direction of the Elders’ assembly neyra, to the men’s left. Magèo and Nal scampered into the trees away from the river toward the old man’s laboratory.
“Magèo!” Nageau boomed.
“We found the missing piece of the scroll!” Magèo hollered, turning around so he could address the Elders while walking backward in a hurry. “But most of the writing has faded so we must restore it! We have no time for idle chitchat!”
Nageau couldn’t get a reply out before mentor and apprentice scurried into the rectangular edifice and locked themselves in. This is good, the Elder thought. Hopefully we can soon see if we truly have cause to be concerned.
He touched Ashack’s forearm. “Please, my friend, continue.”
Ashack looked at the river again, picking at the slivers of wood on the railing. “I have a hunch I am working on. And if I am right, I will bring this back to the Elders.”
“What hunch?”
“Afford me this one ambiguity, Nageau. That is all I ask. When I have reached some level of certainty, you have my word that I will come forward with it.”
Nageau clasped his fingers together, deliberating. “Alright. But Ashack, your actions yesterday—”
“If I am wrong about Hutar, then I will apologize to the boy. As for now, I am not convinced that he is innocent.”
“Ashack, given what has transpired, an apology may not suffice. You know this. We do not assault the people we are meant to guide. It is not who we are. If you come back without evidence…”
The black-haired Elder shifted his head just slightly toward Nageau, but didn’t take his eyes off the river. “What?”
“If you come back without evidence, I will have no choice but to call for council about your position as an Elder.”
61
“You are not welcome here.”
Marshall and the others scrambled to their feet. The masked men and women strode toward them, and the group moved back. There was nowhere to go. Behind them was only a mile-long incline of basalt and hardened lava leading to the top of the mountain. The young woman who’d lifted her tribal mask raised a hand and the three looming elephants retreated a short distance, keeping watchful eyes on the humans. Two men stood beside the woman, holding up torches capped by twirling flames. All twenty silhouettes wore embroidered cotton vests and black pants with what resembled utility belts around their waists. Knife sheaths clung to their hips. They were lithe and toned, and their faces glimmered under the moonlight and the glow from their torches.
“I am Subira,” the woman said, her voice rich and strongly accented, “and as leading Watcher of Meru, I must ask you to leave.”
Before Marshall could stop her, Tegan went toe-to-toe with the woman. “Last I checked, this isn’t exactly off-limits.”
“This is hallowed ground for my people. No one is allowed here.”
“Folks go up and down this mountain all the time.”
“Not this side.” Subira’s face was as icy as her tone. “I knew the moment I saw you that you were trouble. I’ve seen your type, American tourists who walk like you own these ancient grounds, desecrating it with your arrogant footsteps.”
“We’re not tourists!” Tegan asserted. “We have reason—”
“If you’re not tourists, then you’re here for the scarce blue garnet of Meru. The mountain has no more to offer. You and your people have stolen enough.”
“What blue gar—”
“There is no more left! Now go! All of you! Leave!” Subira raised her arm again and this time the elephants lifted their trunks and trumpeted in an angry chorus.
Marshall balked at the titanic display but kept his voice soft and even as he addressed the young woman. “Please, we mean no disrespect to you or your people. We have no interest in any treasure.” He thought he saw a flicker of understanding on Subira’s face, and took a few wary steps toward her. The men on either side of her reached for the knives on their belts. The Sentry held up his hands. “Whoa, hey, easy. We don’t want any trouble. We—”
Subira whipped out her own blade and swung it under his chin. “I don’t care what you are, or aren’t. You will leave, cooperatively or otherwise.”
The flat edge of the cold steel pressed against Marshall’s skin and its tip nicked his throat. Subira locked eyes with him. Despite how fierce she was and how royal she appeared, the Sentry couldn’t help but be taken aback by her youth. She was barely older than the teenagers beside him.
“Put the knife down,” Tegan warned.
“Are you giving me an order, girl?” Subira jerked her blade away from Marshall’s throat and hoisted it high above her head. The elephants flapped their ears and stamped, the tremors sending faint vibrations up Marshall’s legs. The ring of torch-bearing Watchers parted, creating a flickering path from the imposing animals to the teenagers and Sentries.
“Uh, guys?” Aari said under his breath. “I don’t like this.”
The leading elephant tossed its trunk and all three reared up on their hind legs. Marshall instinctively herded the group up the rocky incline. He kept a grip on Kody so the sick boy wouldn’t lag behind. The elephants collectively slammed the ground, sending out another quake. Marshall didn’t get the chance to shout a warning before the massive animals charged. The group yelled, trying to scramble up the incline, but none of them moved fast enough. The elephants were within striking distance when Tegan suddenly broke away from the group.
“What are you doing?” Mariah screamed.
Tegan swept forward, unleashing a wordless roar. The leading animal slowed, as did the other two, and stopped directly in front of the girl. She stared up at them. They drew themselves to their full height and peered down at her, almost as if confused. Then, Marshall watched with unbridled astonishment as the first elephant kneeled on its front legs in front of Tegan. Behind it, the two other elephants followed its example.
“Attagirl, Teegs,” Aari said, barely above a whisper.
Tegan’s reply carried an air of shock. “I didn’t do it.”
“I don’t understand. You’re not controlling any of them?
“No. I was too slow to link with them. They… they bowed on their own.”
The Watchers seemed at a loss. Subira’s dark eyes widened but she quickly smoothed her face. She walked up to the leading elephant, commanding it to stand tall once more.
“It seems the elephants have decided to spare you,” she said. “But it’s just a short reprieve. You cannot stay here. If you don’t leave, then this time I will make sure they don’t stop.”
She finished her statement with a flourish and turned her back to the group. As she did, the torches illuminated the four triangles behind her ear. Marshall heard a strangulated gasp from his right and Dominique came forward with her walking stick. He connected telepathically with her. Domi, what are you doing?
I know that symbol—that tattoo.
What?
Out loud, Dominique repeated, “I know that symbol! Behind your ear!”
Subira tilted her head slightly, then pivoted to stand eyeball-to-eyeball with Dominique. Disbelievingly, almost threateningly, she pointed to the ink on her skin. “You claim to know this?”
Dominique widened her stance. To anyone else she would have appeared confident, but Marshall knew her well enough to notice a quiver of uncertainty in her movements.
“Adiha kilazi,” Dominique intoned.
Subira looked as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. “Say that a
gain?”
“Adiha kilazi.”
Subira echoed the words, breathless. She stared unblinkingly at Dominique for the longest time, then gathered her people away from the group. Marshall couldn’t hear anything save for a rustle of urgent words foreign to his ears. He sent a thought to Dominique. What’s going on? What did you tell them?
Marshall, I don’t know how, but it may have come full circle.
That’s not really clearing anything up. Whatever you just said, it shook Subira. Her friends look glitched, too.
Do you remember when I served in the village in the DRC? Where the disease first broke out?
Yes…
The medicine man whispered those words to me but I had no idea what it meant. He had contracted the disease so I thought it was his fevered mind spouting gibberish. He said that he wished he hadn’t deserted his ancestors and prayed for them to forgive him. A few days later, he went into a coma and succumbed to the disease. He had the exact same symbol behind his ear—the four triangles. I had no clue what he meant, but after seeing Subira’s tattoos, I’d hoped that maybe… maybe the phrase would trigger something.
You were betting on two words no one knows the meaning of?
It was worth a try. At this point, we have nothing to lose.
The Watchers fell into a semi-circle around the Sentries and teenagers, Subira at the center. “A stranger who knows this august phrase that belongs only to our people is not to be taken lightly.” Her posture softened only a little, and in a tone that said she suspected the answer, she asked, “Why are you here?”
“We’re searching for a box of ancient seeds,” Tegan said cautiously. “As far as we know, its last location was somewhere here, in a cave.”
Subira considered the group thoroughly, her fingertips pressed against her lips. “This knowledge is not known to anyone but our people. Maybe you are the ones our ancestors spoke of.”
“You were expecting us?”
“We didn’t know who to expect, or when. For scores of generations, all my people knew was that we had to guard an artifact entrusted to us by—”