Legacy: Book #3, the Fire Chronicles

by Susi Wright

  Relieved that La-poo could play his part if needed, Ji smiled as he stepped down on to the ground to move away, leaving the child perched on top of the samblar's great body.

  “Wait here, La-poo. . .” He laughed at the irony. The child might just be astute enough to join two clips, but he had a badly-broken leg, was drugged to the eyeballs and lay at the bottom of a deep pit. He was hardly able to move.

  “I am going up but, don't worry, I will be back!” he assured, keeping his next thought to himself. If I fall, that could be very soon – at great speed!

  He shook his head, warding off such doubt, and began an exploratory climb.

  Slow, careful movements, using well-chosen hand and foot holds, brought Ji almost one third of the way up the shaft. It was exhausting. He glanced down to find La-poo silently watching him. The wide black owl-like morvian eyes, disproportionately large in this child's face, followed his progress, unblinking. It seemed he had gained the child's trust that he would return. Ji, however, attributed much of La-poo's calm demeanour to the heavy dose of sedative.

  The survival of an innocent depended on his resourcefulness and strength; Ji doubled his effort, but his bruised ribs smarted more with every move. A quick glance up caused him serious doubt that what remained of his energy would get him to the top. It was just too far. He would have to go back down while he still could.

  The next problem was to retrace his footholds which, from this angle, had all disappeared. Breathing hard, he shimmied across the rock face several metres to his right, searching for a step down. Unfortunately, that seemed like the wrong decision, as he quickly found himself on the upper side of an overhang which effectively cut off descent.

  His grip began to slip with his waning strength. He tried to traverse the perilous overhang: directly across was the only choice now. He was losing hope.

  Arms and legs burning with the effort, he forced one move after the other. Soon, he feared, he would lose hold and tumble most likely to his death! One more metre sideways, brought him upon a crevice too wide to cross. Reaching out to test his chances, his right hand waved in thin air. He hastily withdrew it to grab his previous hand-hold, the near edge of the fissure by his face. With a lurch, his left foot slipped briefly, but he managed to replace it.

  He hung on, knuckles white, forearms tightly-corded and biceps shaking with the strain, as he made a desperate decision to gamble the last of his strength.

  Demanding more from his upper limbs than ever before, he removed his right foot and drew his leg back, twisting his lower body away from the rock-face. He gritted his teeth against the pain in his ribs to swing his flailing right leg across and released his hold, using the momentum to hurl his body in an arc into the cave, his only thought, a prayer that there was something solid within to catch him.

  With a thud, he landed feet-first on a rocky ledge in the darkness, going down on one knee to gain his balance. Ahead of him, the pitch black of a cave or tunnel delved deep into the ironstone shaft-wall.

  His best hope was that this might be a fissure leading to the surface, but there was no way of knowing if it was, or how far it went. He could not leave La-poo alone for hours while he explored. There was no choice but to haul the child up and bring him along.

  He turned and leaned over the ledge to call out. “Be ready, La-poo! I am sending down the rope. Do what we practised, alright?”

  He ran the rope behind his back to brace it and lashed the end to an exposed tree-root. Then he tossed the free coils over the edge, watching it unravel to full length. Thank the Stars! The metal shackle at the end of the leather extension landed with a clunk and less than half a metre spare, close to where La-poo sat.

  Again, my friend . . . loyal, even in death! If not for the breadth of Storm's body and the leather from his tack to fill the gap this would not have worked.

  La-poo did as he was bidden and Ji began to haul him up. There was a bump and the child shrieked loudly when his leg dragged against an outcrop, the jolt felt despite the painkiller.

  “Push against the rock with your hands, little one! Keep pushing all the way, so your body does not strike it again. Be brave, this won't take long – you are light as a feather!” Ji hoped his words were understood.

  The coil of rope fell neatly at his feet as he pulled and Ji had La-poo safely beside him within a few minutes. He released the shackle and cinch and checked the injured leg to make sure the splint was still secure.

  Satisfied, he sat back to rest a while, glad his companion had not launched into the usual excited babble of children.

  He was startled when La-poo slipped his little hairy hand within his own where it lay between them and he was given a horrible mental picture of a Morvian man and woman being eaten alive by a Zorg. His eyes flew to the child's. There was more horror there than any young one should know.

  “My parents are gone,” stated La-poo flatly. “Are you my father now?” A spark of hope flickered in his questioning gaze.

  Confronted, Ji answered carefully. “I suppose, for now, I am your protector . . . but do not call me 'Father'. Think of me as your brother.” He smiled when that seemed to satisfy his little ward. “If – no – when we return to Baram, there will be many kind people, happy to have a child like you to care for, believe me!”

  The thought of getting back prompted Ji to move again. He gently extricated the small hand from his and stood, stretching to full height, testing the head-space of the tunnel.

  “We must go! Let us hope this leads up, at some point!” It was a fervent hope. If this warren did not take them to the surface, they would be lost.

  He crouched down and presented his back to La-poo, urging him to climb aboard. “Up you go! For a while, I am your flork, for in my present condition, I couldn't imitate a speedy samblar to save my life!” He laughed, causing a sharp pain to his ribs, as he moved off into the dark horizontal passage, with the deliberate plodding steps of a Morvian flork, but his meaning was lost on the child, who simply snuggled against his saviour, holding on as tight as his thin, hairy arms could manage.

  The trek along the dark tunnel finally brought Ji and his passenger to a fork. He ran his hands around the entry to each passageway. Both were much smaller tunnels. The two adjacent openings, each only half his height, presented Ji with a dilemma. The fissure had narrowed, making it necessary to off-load La-poo and drag him.

  Taking a moment to rest and think, he gently prised the sleeping boy's fingers from around his neck and placed him on the ground. He weighed his gut feeling about going left or right, wishing he had the Gaian sense of direction.

  He turned his head first one way, then the other. There was a slight draft when he angled his face to the left, nothing to the right. What did that mean? In conversations with Gaian friends who specialised in the manipulation of elemental Earth, Ji had learned a little about tunnels: the flow of cold subterranean air was sometimes deceptive, so he could not assume it originated from the surface. If, however, the shaft also angled upwards, that possibility increased.

  He was not particularly fond of gambling, apart from the odd game of cards, but if he had to take a punt now, he favoured the left-hand choice. Sometimes one had to ignore the doubt. Ji decided to explore a short way in that direction, before disturbing La-poo. Given the chance, the boy would continue to sleep off the effects of the sedative for several more hours.

  Ji, himself, was exhausted and hungry. He had given La-poo the last broken biscuit in his satchel. The scant morning meal before the battle seemed like ancient history. It had been a long, long day! However, with the hope that it would not take long to determine their next move, he forced his arms and legs to move, crawling on hands and knees into the passageway. He was eager to join La-poo in some much-needed rest.

  As luck would have it, just fifty metres on, the space widened and angled upwards. Another rush of cool air lifted Ji's spirits higher, to make a decision. This was their best hope! He thanked the Stars for both boons and hurried back to his
young companion, falling to the ground beside him in an exhausted sleep.

  A mewling sound woke him. He sat bolt upright, drew his dagger, expecting to see a wild animal, but quickly realised it was La-poo, stirring as the pain in his leg returned. It only seemed like he had been asleep minutes, but Ji guessed it was probably some hours, if the lubio was wearing off.

  He only had a small measure of the drug left. He would have to be very frugal with it, but the boy needed a dose soon, especially if he was going to be dragged for a distance. There were no options available. Also in Ji's satchel, a pouch of Prian powder was all but useless under the circumstances. The absence of water to drink, the dryness of his mouth, prevented the usual preparation of that herb, which otherwise would assist in any healing process.

  Before his patient woke fully, Ji adjusted the splint, re-tightened the bindings and double-checked how much lubio he could afford to administer.

  When La-poo opened his mouth to groan, Ji was ready to tip a few drops in. The child coughed and swallowed, while Ji helped him up. “Good! Now I have someone to talk to again – even if you don't understand all my Morvian.”

  La-poo looked at him blankly. Ji was not certain if it was his pronunciation or the speedy influence of the drug. Either way, the boy was not screaming in pain, which made him better company than none.

  “We have to move. I am sorry, but I will have to drag you – not far – then you can ride on my back again. How's that?” Ji offered.

  “I am hungry, Father!” complained La-poo.

  Ji sighed. “I told you not to call me 'Father'! Don't you remember?”

  Relatively pain-free, the boy became a little petulant. “Then – brother – I am still hungry. I want more biscuits! And, I am thirsty. I want water!”

  Ji's response was gruff. “As your big brother, I can tell you not to be cheeky! I, also, am hungry. There is no food or water – so do not ask again!” He took firm hold of the boy under the arms and backed into the chosen opening. “Instead, why don't you tell me about your dreams? Not the bad ones . . . I mean, what do you want to be when you grow up? Would you like to be a tradesman, or perhaps a farmer? I am a samblar-man. When we get to Baram, I could teach you to ride one like Storm.” Ji attempted to take his companion's mind off his belly with some friendly conversation. His monologue continued, as he dragged the child along, the only response, a watery sniffle. Ji quickly realised his reprimand had cut deeper than intended.

  Finally, he stopped where the path began to incline, leaning La-poo against the cave wall. He crouched down in the darkness, to face the obviously tearful boy, regretting his sharp words. “I am sorry, little brother! Try to understand me now . . . you must learn to always use good manners, if you wish to have a successful life anywhere!” He patted the child's arm kindly. “You must try not to hold anger about anything for too long.” Ji's parents had taught him that.

  La-poo sniffed once more and sighed. It was an apology, of sorts.

  Ji scruffed the boy's bald head. “Now, let's see if we can find a way out of this maze!” he urged, sounding much more cheerful than he really felt. He wondered if he had made a mistake choosing one tunnel over another. “We have to make the best of it now,” he muttered, kneeling to offer the little Morvian a second 'flork' ride upon his back, grunting exactly like one of the peculiar animals Jimbu had described to him during their journey, as he lurched off along the steepening slope.

  After three more hours of gradual ascent, the fissure narrowed and levelled out in front of Ji. He lowered La-poo to the ground, slumping in disappointment and exhaustion beside him. The boy had been too quiet, dozing on and off. Frequently, his grip had slackened, which made carrying him much more difficult. Ji reached out to check La-poo's forehead. It was hot, but the child was shivering violently. Lubio was merely a pain-killer. It did nothing for a fever.

  Ji swore under his breath, his hopes plummeting to new depths. He rested his aching muscles while he tried to dredge up enough will to go on.

  After a few minutes, he rallied, lowering himself flat to the ground to crawl on his belly into the low space. He had to know how far this obstacle went if it was worth dragging the poor boy again. Some distance further on, he was about to give up, when a sudden rush of air ruffled his hair from above. Lifting his head, he looked directly up and peered into the blackness of another fissure. The air wafted in waves over his face.

  La-poo will die if I don't find a way out! There was just enough width to haul his torso upright into the crevice. He expected a difficult vertical climb, but as he rose to full height, his head emerged into another tunnel which seemed to be a much larger space. The movement of air here resembled a stiff breeze, coming in bursts from an angle up to his left. He squinted in that direction and thought he glimpsed a flash of light, which made no sense if it was still night, but he had to admit he had lost track of time.

  He studied the darkness. There was another flash, then gone. It was a puzzle why the light came and went, but a hopeful sign, nonetheless. After vaulting into the upper tunnel to check its girth, he was satisfied that he could resume carrying his patient, once brought to this point.

  He turned back and was about to drop down the shaft when, from behind, the sound of scuffling movement startled him; then something slammed into his legs, knocking him to the ground. He half-turned to see the flickering image of a huge mole-rat roll to its feet beside him. In the next flash of light, he saw it had bared its fangs defensively. Ji drew his dagger ready to strike out. He tensed in the dark, waiting for it to attack, but a moment later, heard it running away down the tunnel in the opposite direction to the light.

  Relieved, he sat up, guessing the creature must have been as startled as he was. He yelled and threw a few stones after it, hoping it continued on to hide deep in its burrow, at least while he went back for La-poo.

  His return to the boy was hurried: he wanted to avoid tackling a Morvian mole-rat in the dark.

  “I am sorry, little brother, but I must do this!” Ji grasped La-poo under the arms and kept talking, even though the boy was only half-conscious. “Not long now, ” he panted as he dragged the thin, listless body, inching along the horizontal fissure. “Listen to my voice.” With several more grunts, he advanced another few metres. “I've got you, little Sand-ferret. You are brave like the zabuk! You will be alright!” He used every possible encouragement to keep the boy listening. “I think I have – Ouch!” He bumped his head. “Found a way.” Wheezing with the effort, he finally reached the juncture of the tunnels.

  He stood up inside the crevice, checking for sounds of the mole-rat. It was quiet. Carefully, he began to lift and wriggle La-poo's skinny body between his torso and the rocky side of the crevice. It was difficult because the child was completely limp, but eventually he managed to juggle him high enough to launch the little body gently up onto the new level. “A way out!” he finished, coming up beside the boy. La-poo stirred and moaned weakly.

  Don't die on me now! I have gone to no end of trouble to get you this far, you little Morvian scamp! He checked the boy's forehead again to find the fever had worsened.

  The breeze was fresh. The gusts, more frequent and stronger here, were also colder. Unable to suppress a slight shiver, Ji removed his cloak to wrap the child, before he lifted him in his arms to head along the angling passage. The incline was manageable, though the footing was slippery, more difficult with his burden. He slipped several times and had to regain lost ground; progress was slow.

  However, like a beacon urging Ji to put one foot in front of the other, the light at the end of the tunnel flashed encouragingly, growing in size as he climbed.

  As he got closer, he could see bright daylight through a very narrow crack in the rock. A way out! A dark shadow passed intermittently, completely blocking the light from the entrance. Excited, he increased his stride, slipping only once more before he reached the exit. There was just enough room to squeeze through with La-poo in his arms.

  He emerged, s
quinting hard against the sunlight. It was impossible to see at all at first, so he was glad when the shadow returned to block the brightness. Only then could he focus and make sense of his surroundings.

  Around him, giant evergreens towered around the clearing. He was standing in the shadow of a dragon's wing! Not far away, settled on its belly but still half as tall as the trees, sat Espira's drake. The massive pinions flexed in the warming sunlight. Well-past its zenith, the sun threw a brilliant shaft directly on the cave entrance when the wings folded. The red eyes were fixed on Ji and La-poo. The massive head canted to one side.

  I have been waiting for you!

  Ji thought the dragon spoke, but he knew better. For some strange reason, though, it seemed the creature expected them, for he had not been startled, or in any way disturbed to see Ji and the boy pop out of the ground. Why would he be here, of all the places he could choose to be?

  On his first encounter with this animal, Ji had learned to keep a cautious distance between them. So he stayed still and returned the dragon's steady stare, trying to assess its mood.

  Ji's heart skipped a beat. Why is it here alone? This was Espira's wyvern. Where is she?

  She is safe! It was sudden, absolutely certain. Yet, where did that knowledge come from? Ji puzzled over it as he maintained eye contact with the creature. Only briefly, he glanced along its body, noticing a healing welt under the nearside wing. He hoped it was not causing pain.

  Pain made an animal unpredictable.

  He was curious about the creature, wishing he knew its name. All living things seemed much more approachable when they had a name. Of course, as the legends went, no-one was allowed to speak a dragon's out loud, except for its soul-charge. Espira would not tell Ji, even in her thoughts.

  My name matters not . . . bring forth the little one!

  From nowhere, Ji got assurance the dragon was friendly. These creatures were reputed to have healing talent, ethereal compassion. Perhaps it would accept the injured child. For La-poo's sake, he had to try.