The next morning began with a beating of drums. Aria looked outside and saw a group of men heading for the forest, spears in their hands.
Deciding to take advantage of the absence of the men, Aria took a quick dip in the stream at the edge of the forest. She washed the clothes she'd been wearing and donned clean ones. Her hair was still wet, so she left it unbound.
After hanging her wet clothes on a branch, she wandered back to the clearing. A group of children was playing at the edge of the forest. Seeing her, they shrieked and ran off. Aria walked slowly behind them, hoping to find some breakfast.
The children raced past the huts. An old woman emerged out of one and dispersed them with a loud yell. When she saw Aria, she beckoned and stepped inside the hut.
Aria followed, hoping to con a meal. The old woman gave her curd, made from goat's milk and warm bread baked in a mud oven. After breakfast, she set Aria to peeling a pot of carrots.
Seeing it as a small price to pay for the breakfast, and having nothing better to do, Aria did the best she could. The woman inspected the peeled carrots and nodded in satisfaction. She handed one of them to Aria and shooed her away. Shaking her head in puzzlement, Aria stepped out and wondered what to do now. If this was how she was going to spend the next four days, it would soon bore her to madness.
In the end, her day did not turn out to be so bad. The children, after getting over their initial fear, gathered around her. She played games with them, using hand gestures to communicate. At lunch time, she moseyed over to a group of women who were sitting in the sun and sewing clothes. As she sat with them, one of them gave her a slice of cheese and dried meat. In the evening, the men came back with a boar and the women began the task of skinning it. Aria helped as best as she could. She didn't know how to use a needle but she was good with a dagger.
When dusk fell, someone brought her a bowl of stew and she ate it as everyone gathered around the bonfire. The old man joined them, and upon his arrival, all became silent. He launched into a long speech. He waved his arms and made an assortment of hand gestures as he spoke. After a while, she realized he must be telling a story, for the villagers were enrapt.
Since she could not understand a word, Aria found herself nodding off. As the moon rise high into the sky, she went into her hut.
As she relaxed on her pallet, Aria gave some thought to her surroundings. The tribal camp sat between mountains and forest. She wondered what secrets the forest held and what lay beyond it? This area was outside Azmeer, she was sure. Which kingdom did it belong to? Who ruled here?
Over the next three days, she fell into an easy routine. Although unable to understand the women, Aria found herself gravitating towards a few young ones who were close to her age. One of them was not married, and it seemed had eyes for one particular hunter. The rest of the women nudged and winked at her every time he entered or left the camp. Aria found herself giggling with them several times as they all huddled over the spoils of the hunt the men consistently brought into the camp.
It was a good life. Aria had never enjoyed the normality of female companionship, had never been a part of a group of people who worked together or stayed together. The experience was a revelation. The constancy, the rhythm and the interdependency among the villagers would have at one point bored or befuddled her. Now, it only charmed her.
True, the daily routine was monotonous. Nothing exciting ever happened. But there was a certain reassurance in that. There was peace and a sense of belonging; something she had never experienced ever before. Yes, the women bickered amongst themselves and the men fought. Some of the married couples yelled at each other, but if the argument grew violent, someone would invariably come along and break up the brawl. Children cried and got hurt, but someone was always around to pick them up and send them along with a kiss.
It was not an adventurous way to live, but Aria found a certain comfort in it. She had seen enough excitement in the last few weeks to last her a lifetime. The idea of a normal, routine life appealed to her more than it ever had before. Once her quest was over, she decided, she might give some thought to opening an entertainment show. Using her knowledge of the cons she had run over the years, she could put up an act that would show them tricks of her hand and scams. It would be funny, she decided and entertaining--and most importantly, it would be honest work. She could charge a small entrance fee to support herself.
It was something to think about.
The morning of the fourth day began with a high level of activity in the camp. The women got busy cutting vegetables. The meat that had dried over the past few days was brought to the bonfire in a large pot. Two old women added spices and herbs and muttered to each other.
Something was happening.
Was there going to be a feast tonight? Aria saw one of the old woman whack a child who had ventured too close to the precious pot of meat. The child ran away screaming to his mother who clucked over him and placated him with a piece of bread. The old women went back to clucking over their stew, to which they added an assortment of vegetables.
Some of the boys too young to hunt cleaned out a hole near the edge of the clearing. They lined it with head-sized stones and on them they piled dry sticks and balls of grass. Once they seemed satisfied with their work, one of them made fire by striking two stones against each other.
The old women badgered the boys into placing the heavy pot on the fire before waving them off.
Soon, the aroma of stew wafted across the clearing, catching the attention of the children. Many of them wiggled close to the pot that was now simmering over the fire. One child ventured close to Aria and clutched her skirt with grubby hands. Looking down, Aria saw him pointing excitedly at the steaming stew. She smiled at his obvious delight.
All day long the activity continued. The women who were not minding the stew chopped vegetables or skinned the rabbits and wildfowl that were still being brought in by hunters. Late in the afternoon, the women handed over the skinned game to the men, who now began roasting the animals over the bonfire. A few of them brought large banana leaves, in which they wrapped hot stones. Once the leaves where hot enough, they placed strips of spiced meat inside and covered everything with a large empty pot, placed upside down so as to trap the heat. Aria's mouth watered at the aroma now wafting across the clearing from different directions.
The sun was setting when the women all went into their huts. After a while they began to emerge, garbed in new clothes.
Aria watched as everyone gathered around the fire, exchanging gossip or admiring each other clothes. Twilight soon fell upon the land; the sky turned a somber black, lit with a full luminous moon.
The old man came to her. "Pack your bags and come to my hut."
Aria was startled. Would he take her to the citadel at this time of the night?
There was not much to pack. Everything fit into one satchel which she carried, along with her water skin and blankets.
Was she finally nearing the end of the journey she had begun so long ago with Bikkar?
Inside his hut, the old man sat on a sheepskin rug next to a fire. Beside him stood a tin bowl filled with water, a jug of some vile liquid that bubbled and gave out a strong unpleasant odor, and a knife.
He gestured for Aria to sit across from him. "It's time. Are you ready to enter the citadel that has been hidden from the sight of mortal men and women for centuries?"
"Yes, of course." Aria nearly shook her head at his solemnity. What did he think she was here for if not for that purpose? She had traveled across the land, lost the only friend she had ever made, and sat in the middle of the jungle for four days twiddling her thumbs while he waited for the right time. She was more than ready. She was eagerly awaiting the end of her journey.
"You seek the citadel, the hidden fortress that houses a powerful weapon, wielded once by ancient wizards. It contains immortal power beyond imagining. In the wrong hands, that power will bring destruction and chaos. But if wielded by one with compassion and wi
sdom, it will bring peace and prosperity to the land." The old man looked deep into her eyes. "This is what I was told to tell the one who comes with the Golden Key to open the citadel."
"You were told...?"
"It has been many long years since I came here with my mate and the wizards of old power honored me with the responsibility to safeguard the citadel. For generations me and mine have been waiting here for your arrival.
"Tonight my task comes to an end. You hold the key. Only you can open the citadel...and in doing so, you'll set me free."
"Set you free?" Understanding dawned. "You mean, tonight you die?"
"Death is but a beginning of another long journey," the old man said serenely. "I've longed for a release from this task for years. My body aches with age, and I wish to go to the spirit world."
Aria shook her head. "I don't understand. Why is there a feast planned outside? Did you not tell your relatives that you'll die tonight?"
"I told them. They are rejoicing at the promise of my release. Tonight, all bid me farewell. Tomorrow they will bury my body." He fell silent for a moment. "Tell me. Are you ready to die tonight?"
"Die?"
"Your mortal body cannot enter the citadel. The one who has the key may enter only after leaving his or her body behind. Only your spirit can enter the ancient fortress."
"What?" Aria stood up, her legs shaking. "Are you saying that I've to kill myself to get inside the Citadel?"
"Did you not know that?" The old man raised his eyebrows, looking surprised at her reaction.
"No. I... I didn't know. The person who guided me here never told me this." Had Bikkar deliberately not told her? Had he been afraid she would not undertake the journey if she knew she would have to die to fulfill her quest?
"Perhaps, he didn't know," the old man said.
"Perhaps." Aria was not sure what to do. Having parried with danger many times during this journey, she had been prepared to give her life during the quest. It was another matter to have it forced upon her like this.
She wished she'd had time to prepare, to think. There was still so much she wanted to do. She had hardly lived her life.
Was she prepared to die?
She was not. But a life without her beloved brother was no life at all. The only way to get Marcus back was to destroy the Black Orb. And to do that, she needed the Dragon Claw.
If dying meant that Marcus would be released from the thrall of the evil Queen, then she was willing to make that sacrifice.
"I'll do it."
"Sit down." The old man set the bowl filled with clear water in front of him. From the pitcher, he poured a few drops of bubbling liquid into the bowl. The water frothed and let off steam.
"It's poison. I'll drink it first," he said cheerfully.
He lifted the bowl with fragile hands and drank. Grimacing, he passed the bowl across the fire.
With hands that threatened to shake, Aria took the bowl. Firming her resolve, she drained the bowl. The water was bitter.
Carefully she placed the bowl in front of her. "Now what?"
He was silent. Nothing seemed to happen for a long time. She and the old man sat, staring at each other.
Impatient, Aria pulled at the edges of her skirt. When was she going to die? The waiting was killing her more than the poison she had just drunk. "Well, are we going to die or not?"
Closing his eyes, the old man ignored her.
"Splendid!" Aria looked down at her hands. Her fingers were beginning to tingle. Slowly the sensation spread from her hands into her arms. "What's happening?"
The old man slumped to the side, sprawled across the floor. Was he dead?
Aria threw her head back as the tingling sensation spread all over her body. She attempted to get up but lacked the energy. Her eyes closed, even as her heart rate slowed. Weightless, she felt herself floating upwards. When she turned to look down, she saw her body lying on the floor. The old man was standing beside his body, as if waiting for her. Was she really dead?
He turned to walk out of the hut. Aria noticed the key still around her body's neck. She reached to take it.
"You won't need it," he said.
Aria looked back at him. He was standing still. His lips had not moved. She had heard the words in her head.
She looked at herself...her spirit, or whatever it was. Everything about this body looked the same but she felt light, as if she was made of wisps of smoke or air.
As they emerged from the hut, she saw the tribal people still dancing near the fire. The drumbeat thundered in her ears, the flames of the fire shone bright as the sun. Everything looked sharper, brighter. Even the air tasted sweet. Perhaps being dead was not that bad. She smiled to herself as they walked past the revelers. No one noticed them.
Clearly, they were invisible. There might be advantages to being dead. If she wanted to, she could steal a whole palace blind and no one would realize she was there. The thought kept her smiling as the old man led her to the forest.
Had she been blind when alive? The citadel stood right at the edge of the forest. Huge and golden, it shone brightly even in the wane light of the moon. How could she not have seen it?
Perhaps it could only be seen by the dead. That was powerful magic. Was the Dragon Claw really hidden inside? A faint tingle of excitement raced up and down her spine as she realized she was close to her destination.
Would she be able to hold the Dragon Claw in her hand, now that she had no body? Would she be able to use it?
A massive pair of golden doors formed the entrance to the citadel. Carved on them was a warning:
"Oh, ye who enter! Beware the power that lies within,
You may wield it, but none shall ever master it.
For the power of the Dragons untold,
Is servant to none, but their own to hold."
"That's quite a welcome," she said to the old man in her mind.
"I shall leave you," he replied.
"You aren't coming with me?"
"This is your journey to make. Mine is elsewhere." He smiled at her and walked off into the forest.
"Here goes nothing. I'm already dead. What do I have to lose?" Aria stepped forward, but paused just before the doors. "Hey, how do I open this place?" she yelled at the old man, but he had disappeared already. "Oh, well..." She raised her hands, intending to push the doors open. To her surprise, they opened on their own accord.
Bright light filled the chamber that lay beyond. As she entered, the doors closed behind her. On the far wall, a small niche slowly became visible as the light faded to a comfortable level. In it sat a golden stick with a clawed end.
It had to be the Dragon Claw, Aria realized. Had it really belonged to a fallen dragon?
Drawing closer, she stood a moment, studying the stick. At one end, it split into three branches, each of them curved and long, like talons. It appeared harmless. Was it really an object of great power?
Now, that she was so close to it, Aria questioned the claim that this was the most powerful weapon in the world. "It looks harmless." She reached to pick it up.
"I assure you it's not." The words echoed in her head.
"Bikkar!" Aria whirled around. There he was, standing behind her, with the same canny smile on his face she remembered so well. With a great effort of will, Aria stopped herself from running into his arms. "Don't you look handsome! White is so your color."
Instead of his familiar green robe, he wore white.
"So, you aren't dead?" Despite her deliberately light tone, there was hope in her heart as she looked him up and down.
"I am indeed dead." A smile played on his lips as he walked towards her.
"And so am I." Aria placed her hands on her hips. "Don't you think it's something you should've told me at the beginning of the journey?"
"Quarrelsome as ever, even in death." Bikkar shook his head. "Would it have made you change your mind if I'd told you?"
"No." As soon as she spoke, she knew it was the truth. "I would have
done anything to free Marcus. If my death would do it... Well, it's something I can certainly live with." She laughed at her own joke.
"The good news is that you aren't really dead."
"I'm not?" Aria ran a hand over her body. "If I'm not, whose body did I leave behind in the old man's hut?"
Bikkar didn't answer, but turned his head to gaze at the Golden Claw. "That is a powerful weapon."
"That's what everyone keeps on telling me." Aria resisted an urge to run and hug him. In death, he looked so frail. "But I've yet to see any evidence of that."
"I'm glad to see that your cynical nature is intact as ever. Let me assure you that you're not dead."
"But the old man--"
"He told you what he knew. He is indeed dead. The poison, however, didn't affect you in quite the same manner because the Golden Key around your neck absorbed it."
"But I...my body? I left it behind."
"And you can go back to it after your work is finished. The Dragon Claw is a powerful weapon. It will give you back your body if you command it to do so. Now, I must tell you something important. My time here is short." Bikkar waved a hand in a familiar impatient gesture.
"The Dragon Claw is in your hands. Its power must be pitted against the Black Orb. It can destroy the Orb, or subjugate it to its will. Whichever you desire. You will hold immense power. and I implore you to use it wisely. A mistake will cost dearly. "
"If you think--" Aria huffed at the accusation in his words.
"I'm just saying--" Bikkar raised his hand to silence her. "Power does strange things to people. It's a terrible responsibility. All I ask is that you exercise it with care."
"Anything else?" Aria folded her hands and stared at him with defiance.
"The Dragon Claw and the Golden Key must not fall into the wrong hands. Until the day you die, you'll remain responsible for their safety. And..." He hesitated. "That's all. I wish you the best. I want you to know that it's been an honor to undertake this journey with you. May the Blessing of the Goddess be with you forever." Bikkar raised both his arms up high--and disappeared.
The Black Orb Page 12