The Chronicles of Trellah, Book One: The Perpetual Rain

by T. S. Graham

“I thought I could bring lasting peace to Trellah,” Jantu lamented. “I failed, and will serve my sentence.”

  Sophina looked at her dad, hoping the sight of his face would ease the knot that had formed in her stomach. But it only made it worse.

  “That means my father forced the vrahkoles to kidnap the children,” she mumbled. “Why would he do that?”

  “Your father isn’t to blame,” Mrs. Tanner cut in. “None of this would have happened had he been allowed to go home that night. He forgot who he was the instant Jantu showed him that stone.”

  “But he knew what he was doing,” said Sophina, with a growing realization of what had happened. “He had the children collect the drahtuah for him. He drew the house plans on the walls. He planned it all out!”

  “Sophina?”

  Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of her father’s voice.

  “—Daddy—”

  His eyes focused on her face, but only for a moment. Before he could speak again his body went rigid, and his eyes rolled up toward the back of his head.

  “What’s happening?” Sophina cried.

  “He’s having a seizure,” said Mrs. Tanner as she swept in. “We have to leave here now. I’ll stay with him while you retrieve the children.”

  Sophina didn’t want to leave her father’s side, but the thought of starting their journey home was more than enough to get her feet moving. She wanted to leap up the stairs but couldn’t on account of the dozens of vrahkoles who had gathered there. She was struck by their expressions as she ascended through them—young and old, male and female, all looking nothing like the savages depicted in the murals. Hundreds more watched through the windows of the cityscape as she entered the cave and descended into the quarry, where Eliot still slept at the feet of the armored vrahkoles.

  “It’s time to go home,” she whispered as she cradled him in her arms.

  Sophina made two more trips to the cavern after learning that her father’s seizure had ended and he was still alive. Wendy Deering, who had collapsed from exhaustion after devouring the tripod fish, went as quietly as Eliot. But Seth Brighton pitched a violent tantrum as he was carried away from the substance that had dominated his mind for two days. Thankfully, he too fell into a tranquil slumber as soon as she got him outside.

  “We’ll have to hurry to reach the valley by nightfall,” said Mrs. Tanner, shielding her eyes from the red sun that now descended toward the distant mountains.

  The scar-faced vrahkole stepped out of the crowd, now clothed in the same fur that was worn by the others. He knelt before Talfore and held out the Protector’s cloak he had been wearing.

  Conflict raged in Talfore’s eyes. He accepted the cloak, and then set his vrahkole-bone weapon at the feet of his former enemy. He motioned for Jantu to do the same. When the exchange was complete, several more vrahkoles stepped forward and placed their stolen cloaks upon the ground.

  There was a flurry of alien chatter at the top of the stairs as the fast-growing crowd parted, and a frail figure wrapped in woolly pelts was escorted down to the platform where Talfore and Jantu stood.

  “Verrah!” exclaimed Jantu in disbelief. “You’re alive!”

  Verrah was indeed alive, but his injuries were profound; he would have fallen without support.

  Jantu knelt down beside Mr. Murray, who remained in a drug-induced slumber.

  “I did this to you, yet you allowed Verrah to live,” he said in a near whisper. “I am forever in your debt.”

  Talfore helped Verrah lie down beside the sleeping children as the scarred vrahkole raised his hand to Sophina and Mrs. Tanner. The smallest of the babies now clung to his back, its intelligent eyes fixed on Sophina.

  “Grechah nal, keetah,” the vrahkole growled, “drahvan kar.”

  Mrs. Tanner turned to Talfore, whose eyes had grown wide.

  “He spoke Trellian,” she said with confidence. “What did he say?”

  “He said, ‘We owe you our lives. We will fight at your command.’ ”

  It was clear that the last thing Talfore had expected was to hear a vrahkole speak his language.

  “Tell him I say thank you,” Mrs. Tanner said, with a nod to their new friend, “but I hope we never have to take him up on his offer.”

  Talfore relayed the message as Sophina looked down to find that her father’s eyes were once again open. His lips parted, but no words came out. Still, it was clear that the drahtuah had begun to help his body win its battle against the crechan leaf.

  She kissed his forehead as the scarred vrahkole barked a sharp call, prompting the largest grahdor to jump off the crater rim and glide toward them over the half-submerged pillars. With a beat of its scalloped wings, the grahdor landed on the grand staircase and purred deep within its throat as it lowered its gargantuan head to its master. The vrahkole leapt into the basket saddle on its back and uncoiled a wood-and-rope ladder down to the stairs, beckoning them to join him.

  “He wants to fly us back,” said Sophina, unable to contain her excitement.

  “I think you’re right,” Mrs. Tanner confirmed. “And something tells me that he knows just where we need to go.”

  Mrs. Tanner hoisted Mr. Murray onto her shoulder, climbed the ladder, and lowered him into the basket. Sophina turned to gather up Eliot, only to find that three of the largest vrahkoles had already scooped up the sleeping children. They passed them up to their scarred leader, who placed them upon the basket’s fur-lined floor.

  Verrah was next up the ladder, followed by Talfore and Jantu, who each carried with them several cloaks. Sophina was overcome with elation as she hunkered down between Eliot and her dad. Not in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined they would be together again, and her anger over what Jantu had done couldn’t detract from her joy.

  Jantu clicked a familiar call, and Tahra appeared out of nowhere to land at his side. Tahra’s nose soon found Mr. Murray, and he proceeded to lick his oozing neck wound with vigor.

  With a flap of giant wings they rose above the crater and glided toward the southern rim, where a new waterfall had joined forces with the one below to create a fast-expanding plume of mist.

  Sophina’s insides heaved as the grahdor spiraled down the cliff face through the drenching fog. The next thing she knew they were skimming across the surface of the lake, moving at breakneck speed toward the eastern shore.

  They whooshed over the field of dehydrated plantimals, sending countless vacharos lumbering to form protective circles around their young.

  The grahdor rose sharply before coasting over the canopy of the deadwood forest. Sophina peered down as the lifeless scrub gave way to the jagged cliffs and mountainous islands of the bay, taking in what she could of their grandeur before the great beast banked hard to the right and ascended to the very pinnacle of the giant forest.

  A chill permeated her body as the sun disappeared behind the column of auburn stone that suddenly loomed before them. Her eyes were drawn down into the gaps between the trees, where she saw the old sailor following them through the upper branches. He mirrored the grahdor’s every move as it descended toward the cavern. She knew it wouldn’t be long before he was upon her, and the thought of it made it hard to breathe.

  “He’s following me,” Sophina croaked. “We have to get out of the shade.”

  “Someone already thought of that.” Mrs. Tanner nodded to the front of the basket, where their vrahkole guide held a flaming torch in his hand.

  He ignited two more torches as the grahdor touched down at the base of the stone column, one attached to each front corner of the basket. He uncoiled the ladder and leapt to the ground with the original torch held high. He then stood guard while Talfore, Jantu, Mrs. Tanner, and Sophina teamed up to pass Verrah, Mr. Murray, and each of the sleeping children down the ladder.

  Sophina took Eliot in her arms and guided his head onto her shoulder. This time, she knew that nothing could make her put him down.

  “I must stay with Verrah,” said Jantu when Sophina
turned to him. “I have failed my people and yours, and will never again leave the Great Cathedral.” He looked utterly defeated, and Sophina couldn’t help but feel a tinge of compassion for what he would suffer.

  “I know we will never meet again,” Jantu continued. “But perhaps, when the pain I have caused is only a memory, you will find it possible to forgive me.”

  Sophina looked at her sleeping father. The rash on his neck had begun to dissipate—yet another hopeful sign that eased some of the pain Jantu spoke of.

  “I’ve already forgiven you,” she said. And, for the most part, she meant it.

  Jantu bowed his head in gratitude as Tahra sent Sophina a soft graw from his fallen master’s shoulder. Somehow, Tahra understood that this was no time for a tongue-bath of a goodbye.

  The vrahkole took Wendy and Seth up into his brawny arms as Mrs. Tanner hefted Mr. Murray over her shoulder. Sophina then followed them to the narrow entrance of the cavern, where Talfore waited with a torch in hand.

  “You don’t have to tell anyone what Jantu did,” Sophina said as they stepped into the relative cool of the cave. “He made a mistake. I think he’s learned his lesson.”

  “My son will be punished for what he has done,” responded Talfore with an unexpected lack of emotion, “not rewarded for what he will not do in the future.”

  Sophina knew that it wasn’t her place to argue the laws of Talfore’s culture. Still, she struggled to keep silent as they made their way through the towering stalagmites. Thousands of cave creatures slunk, flipped, and scurried into the shadows as they neared the leaden doorway, providing a welcome distraction from her sadness over Jantu’s fate. There was no sign of the fanged creatures that had lurked between the stalactites above, and that was quite all right with her.

  Mrs. Tanner placed Mr. Murray at the base of the steps that ascended to the lead doorway. She took several vials of powder from her cloak, then removed the garment and handed it to Talfore. She then slipped Verrah’s torn cloak off of Mr. Murray, revealing the weathered work clothes that he had worn every night in Sophina’s dreams.

  “I trust that you’ll destroy the rest of my belongings,” she said to Talfore. “I won’t be coming back to retrieve them.”

  Talfore gave Mrs. Tanner a subtle bow. “I will not forget you, Kate of Thomasville. Or you, Sophina, the girl who thinks beyond her years.”

  “I won’t forget you either,” Sophina assured him, “or anything else about this place.”

  Sophina passed Eliot to Mrs. Tanner and removed her own borrowed cloak. A brutal scream rained down from above as she handed it to Talfore, drawing her gaze into the gloom of the ceiling, where a set of clouded eyes glared at her from behind a stalactite. Her watcher had followed her into the cave, and she knew that his pursuit would continue even after she returned home. To her surprise, this thought didn’t bother her. Instead of fear, she now felt an odd kind of pity for the old sailor, a feeling that induced her to step closer to the shadow-line.

  “I can’t be scared of you anymore,” she mumbled, confident that he could hear her no matter how softly she spoke. “I don’t know why you hate me, but I promise I’ll find out who you and your daughter are, and help you find what you’re looking for.”

  “You stole her from me,” she heard him hiss, but she had turned her back to her watcher. She walked over to the vrahkole, who looked at her with razor-sharp eyes. “Please tell him that I say ‘Thank you for trusting me,’ ” she asked Talfore.

  Talfore translated as Sophina took Eliot back into her arms and climbed the stairs to the static doorway. Mrs. Tanner uncorked a shimmering vial and placed it at the center of the bottom panel. She then opened a vial of water and poured.

  The old sailor let out a bloodcurdling shriek as the familiar wall of crimson light coursed before Sophina’s eyes. But his call fell on deaf ears, for she was overcome by the joy of finally getting to bring her loved ones home.

  * * *

  Sophina awoke to the warmth of golden sunlight streaming through the window of Mrs. Tanner’s guest bedroom. Eliot was asleep in the bed beside her, a sight that was even more heartening in the daylight.

  The clock had struck midnight before Sophina had laid her head on the pillow. It had taken two more wormhole openings to get everyone back—one for her dad, and the other for Wendy and Seth. She had helped Mrs. Tanner carry everyone upstairs, where they had tucked the children into bed. They’d put her dad in the master bedroom, which was free because Mrs. Tanner had insisted on staying awake downstairs, just in case someone tried to wander off in a state of confusion.

  Sophina had slept sporadically through the night, getting up several times to look in the mirror to see how much drahtuah remained in her eyes. At three a.m. a few vibrant flecks had still lingered, but they had all but vanished by five.

  It was six o’clock in the morning when Sophina stepped to the window and peeked around the curtain. She looked past her driveway, where the family van was still buried beneath the spruce tree, to find no sign of life behind the broken windows of her house. There was a good chance that her mom had been caught outside during yesterday’s storm, and the thought of it horrified her. She wanted to run home and scream out to her, but knew the time wasn’t yet right. She couldn’t draw attention to herself—or Mrs. Tanner—until the children had been safely returned home. She started to turn away from the window when something moved in the trees across the street. It was Spike Branson, peeking around the trunk of a maple with a long-lens camera in hand.

  Sophina’s lips formed into an unexpected smile. She had known that she would see Spike again; she’d just figured it would take a bit longer for him to start sniffing around.

  “Bring it on,” she muttered as Spike snapped several shots of her house.

  There was a rustle of sheets behind her, and she turned around to find Eliot’s eyes open. A trace of drahtuah remained in his irises, probably because his exposure had been more extreme than hers.

  “Where are we?” he asked.

  “At Mrs. Tanner’s house,” she answered as she sat down beside him on the bed.

  “I had a bad dream.”

  “It’s over now. You’ll never have that dream again.”

  There was a knock at the door, and Mrs. Tanner stepped into the room.

  “He’s ready to see you now,” she informed Sophina.

  Sophina gave Eliot a hug. “Go back to sleep,” she whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

  His eyes were shut before Sophina closed the door behind her. She glanced into the next bedroom as she turned to follow Mrs. Tanner. The bed that Wendy and Seth had been tucked into was empty.

  “Where are Wendy and Seth?” she asked.

  “I took them home before dawn, while they were still sleeping.”

  “But their eyes . . . their parents must have seen—”

  “Most of the drahtuah will have left their bodies before anyone else sees their eyes,” said Mrs. Tanner. “I couldn’t risk having them wake up here; I would’ve faced the worst kind of scrutiny. Besides, if you had seen their parents’ faces after I knocked on their doors and they found their children asleep outside, I think you’d agree that eye color was the last thing on their minds.”

  Sophina did understand when she thought about it. Mrs. Tanner had no more reason to worry about the children’s eyes being seen than she herself had cause to fret about what had transpired at the Grange Hall. Yes, questions would arise from both incidents, but those questions would fade with time. Months from now, reports of glowing-eyed children and a ghostly old man at the Grange would be overshadowed by a larger story: the weather anomaly that had nearly destroyed a remote Maine town. The anomaly would be scrutinized by scientists for decades to come, while the rest would fade into legend, viewed by most rational people as a by-product of the psychological strain suffered by those who’d been trapped on the Thomasville side of the bridge.

  “I went to Doc Bailey’s house on my way back,” said Mrs. Tanner, stopping
Sophina in her tracks. “Mrs. Emerson is just fine. In fact, she’s up and walking around.”

  This time, the smile that lit up Sophina’s face was the skin-stretching kind.

  “Mrs. Tanner?”

  “Yes?”

  “I forgive you for ignoring me after I thought my dad had died.”

  Hearing this brought tears to Mrs. Tanner eyes. “Well then, I guess my morning is complete.”

  “The question is: Will you forgive me?” Sophina asked.

  “What on earth for?”

  “For not trusting you . . .”

  “You don’t need my forgiveness for that. My actions led you to think I was untrustworthy.”

  “I’m not just talking about before I went to Trellah. I stole the vial from your bag instead of asking for it—and I would’ve killed that vrahkole. We’d be dead if you had listened to me.”

  Mrs. Tanner had never looked more thoughtful than she did right then.

  “Sophina, you’ll find that your life won’t be defined by the mistakes you make; it’s the lessons you learn from those mistakes that are important.” She placed her hand on Sophina’s cheek. “You don’t need my forgiveness, because there’s nothing for me to forgive.”

  With that, she turned and led Sophina to the master bedroom door. Mrs. Tanner didn’t open it right away. “I have to ask you something,” she said, turning back to Sophina. “Are you sure you left a vial of drahtuah under my lab table?”

  “Yes.” A knot formed deep in Sophina’s gut. There could only be one reason why Mrs. Tanner had posed that question. “It’s gone, isn’t it?” she asked with alarm. “What are we going to do?”

  “Let’s worry about that later,” Mrs. Tanner suggested. “Right now, you have a family to reunite.”

  Sophina could tell by Mrs. Tanner’s tone that she had no intention of putting off her search for the missing vial. But, given the circumstances, Sophina was willing to let her go it alone—at least for now.

  “I must warn you,” said Mrs. Tanner. “When someone from our world is exposed to drahtuah for an extended period of time, it takes longer to adjust to life without it. Depression is a normal side effect. It may be a while before your father feels true happiness again.”