He moved away, calling their names. They had to be somewhere and near. It was more than sensible to think that if he was all right, they had to be too.
Viven froze when a howl rang in his ears. It was a far away one, long and reverberating throughout the forest. Anxiety crept into his bones, reminding him of something important he shouldn’t have let slip from his mind in the first place—
It was night, and this was the Tropagian forest. He recalled Sezia’s words. Demons and the dark creatures are beings of the night . . .
What if someone, or rather something, had carried the others away?
Much as he hated to think, it was the most plausible explanation for their disappearance.
“No!” Viven said out loud to collect himself. He couldn’t succumb to that belief—
“Viven..”
“Aunt Gina!” he shouted, the tattered voice of Aunt Gina sending spasms of relief down his spine. “Aunt Gina! That you?” He turned around, his eyes in frenzy. Where was she? Where was she?
He spotted her. Lying slumped in the shade of a tree, she blended perfectly into her surroundings. Although Viven had looked over the area a dozen times, he was a little surprised he had mistaken her for a mere shrub.
“Aunt Gina!” Viven cried, sprinting to her.
“Viven,” she whispered, her lips moving wearily. “That you?”
“Yes, Aunt, it’s me, Viven!”
She smiled, but frowned instantly, the drowsiness fading from her face as she seemed to get a firmer grip over things.
“Oh no!” she exclaimed. “It’s already night! This is dangerous; have you found Manu and Dirita?”
Viven shook his head, the dread returning to him. Manu and Dirita were still nowhere to be found.
“No?” Her eyes were wide, like they were scanning him from the inside out.
“No.”
“B-but,” she stammered, unable to find words. “Surely . . .” she gritted her teeth and stood up,“we have to search for them, Viven. I want to see Manu . . .” She muttered words under her breath, more to herself than to him.
At that moment, a strange pain exploded in the back of Viven’s neck.
“Arrrrghh!” he screamed, clutching his neck that might have been slit by a knife.
“Hey—!” Aunt Gina gave him an arm, not seeming to make any heads or tails.
Red dots appeared in his field of sight, and no sooner were his legs giving up when he swooned, entering the unconscious void.
His eyes snapped open minutes later. Aunt Gina was saying something to him, a desperate look hovering over her face, tapping his cheeks meanwhile, but he heard nothing. All he saw was her lips moving. Then the world blurred, and once again, the other void had him.
The next few hours were most uncomfortable for Viven; he kept slipping in and out of consciousness now and then. The world was nothing more than a hazy mist, a strange illusion he got more and more dubious of as the hours rolled. One thing he had the vaguest impression of was that they were moving. Every time he was awake, the surroundings looked a little different, or at least, that was what he thought.
Aunt Gina was carrying him, her face pale as parchment, the effort required making her so. He did not want to be carried at all. Couldn’t he be stronger? Shame and guilt presided over his heart. He did not want to give her anymore trouble.
***
“I couldn’t find the other two,” Milli said inside Canniola’s head. “I didn’t recognise the blasted tree. It attacked us and I destroyed it. The Descendant had nearly died. I lost my powers in the process of healing him and was down for hours. I have no idea what happened to them.”
“The other two don’t matter,” said Canniola. “Bring him to the castle. Everything is ready here.” Milli had once been part of Mai Canniola, but had detached herself for their goals.
“And where is the Purple One?” Milli said rather angrily.
“I have no idea,” Mai Canniola replied through gritted teeth. Why was the Purple One not helping? He could have easily stopped that Shifter tree, but he had just let it have its way. “Don’t worry; he knows what he’s doing.”
“Tell him to be more helpful the next time,” said Milli. “Arakosh does want us to be successful, right?”
“Just bring him to the castle,” Canniola said instead, exasperated. She blocked the connection with Milli.
***
“Viven? Viven? It’s morning. Get up! Please, you have to.”
Someone was sprinkling water over his face. Viven parted his eyelids.
Aunt Gina was the one who had been sprinkling the water, lines of wear on her features. The smile she drew once seeing him awake contained fatigue and exhaustion.
Darkness reigned no longer; the Tropagian morning had already dawned. The sun’s brightness, which basked him in sweet warmth, would have been pleasant if not for yesterday’s events that came crashing to his mind, making him jolt up.
It was as if something had broken inside him. Manu and Dirita were still to be found.
“Aunt Gina,” Viven began. He stopped short, the hill reeling into his view. It was bigger and nearer than ever, just a tiny distance away; near its peak, he saw a small hole that he knew was the cave they were marked for.
Aunt Gina opened her mouth to say something, but instead of that and most out of Viven’s expectations, she screamed. Viven clasped his ears, the sound deafening. His eardrums throbbed, his only thought being what the devil was wrong with Aunt Gina.
A green mass plunged into the air from behind him, providing immediate explanation.
The humongous animal landed next to Aunt Gina and shut her mouth with its big webby hands. Words escaped from the animal’s mouth, croaky words that only a mucous-dabbled throat could have produced.
“Are you mad, lady? The castle must be so near!” Viven’s stomach did a somersault as he realised what animal it was—
A frog.
A frog one thousand times the size of any he had ever seen.
Aunt Gina moaned, and the great beast released her, as though not wanting to hurt.
She scurried away to Viven’s side, who meanwhile had only gotten up, held paralyzed by astonishment upon seeing the giant frog.
“By what foolishness are you humans here?” the frog demanded, large yellowish amphibian eyes fixed upon the two of them. “Just yesterday did I stumble upon two youngsters of your kind falling prey to a Shifter tree; if not for me, they’d be dead by now.”
It took Viven a couple of moments to take in the words. He wasn’t to blame, though; a frog speaking was too outright weird to register immediately. But when he did, he got sucked into a whirlpool of thoughts: the frog was saying he had found two human children in the forest attacked by a tree. What was the possibility of the two children being Manu and Dirita? Nobody came to Tropagia to take a stroll, except perhaps demons.
“What? Human children?” Viven said, the words spilling out themselves. “You found human children? Is it true?”
“Yes. Why, you do not believe me?” the frog asked.
“We do, we do,” Viven said, adrenaline rushing through him. “There was a boy and a girl, right?”
“Yes, one boy, one girl. Injured bad, though. The leaves of the Shifter tree had nearly strangled them to death.”
“Did the boy have dark brown hair?” said Aunt Gina.
“Yes, he did. The girl had a little cat inside her shirt that was totally unharmed.”
Viven bit his lips. It was confirmed now who the frog was talking about.
“Then what did you do with them?” Aunt Gina said, her voice quivering. “Please tell me, I beg of you!” Her eyes swelled and tears leaked out of them. The frog himself was somewhat taken.
“Well,” he replied, “I took them to the Diamension. They are being treated there; we take it for our moral responsibility to help young ones, whatever race they may belong to, if we find them in any dangerous situation. But why do you so inquire? Are the children your kin?”
“Yes,” said Viven. “But where is this Diamension place?”
“How come you don’t know?” the frog said, surprised. “One can’t be in this part of Tropagia and not know about the Diamension of the Potion Makers, can one?”
“The Potion Makers?” said Viven. “The Diamension is where they live, isn’t it?”
“Well, you know, then,” the frog said.
Viven shook his head, clicking his tongue.
“Can you take us there as well?”
“Ummm,” said the frog, thinking. Viven felt unsure: it was the first time he was asking help from a talking frog that could swallow him in one gulp. Besides, he wanted to get the axe first, since the hill was so near. He felt selfish thinking so, and he kicked the idea out of his head. Manu and Dirita were more important.
“You see,” the frog said, “outsiders are not allowed into the Diamension. It is for security measures, not everyone in the forest can be trusted.”
“But the children,” Viven pressed, “you took them there. They were with us before we were attacked by the tree. One of them is my cousin and her son.” He gestured at Aunt Gina, who was sniffling. “The other is a friend. Please take us to this Diamension place. It’s important.”
A long time the frog kept pondering, and then he said, “Okay, fine. I shall help you.”
***
He slit his throat and watched as Brucus wriggled on the forest floor. Any moans were made silent by the spell. He allowed himself a much deserved smile. Brucus, Canniola’s feet licker. Dead.
A small noise not far away. Had it been a guard?
Prisoners Again
Travelling in a direction opposite to the axe hill didn’t, perhaps, quite do to heighten spirits after coming so close to it. But just the thought he would see Manu and Dirita again more than replaced it for Viven, sending optimistic shivers down his body.
For the past half an hour, they had been riding on the giant frog’s back, who had let his name be known as Bufo—lord of the frogs who worshipped him. He went in mighty leaps, so that most of the time, they were up in the air. It was an experience similar to flying, though a tad marred by the regular landings and take-offs. It was a swift, bumpy ride, the greenery whooshing past by them fast.
Both Viven and Aunt Gina clutched tightly to Bufo’s back, and tighter even during the split seconds of hitting the ground, wary of getting a broken bone, or worse. What’s more, Viven was afraid Bufo would crash into one of the numerous tall trees that occupied most of the forest. However, Bufo was experienced at leaping, and nothing such occurred, for he always found just the correct spot for landing and taking off into the air again.
“There,” said the frog lord, bouncing his way toward a small hut in a clearing ahead, which Viven only now spotted as Bufo slowed his speed.
Bufo landed in the clearing, this time to stay. His two passengers climbed down his back.
“This is the Diamension?” said Viven.
“A hut?” said Aunt Gina, doubtful.
Bufo nodded. “Yes, in a sense.”
“Are they inside?” Viven asked, wondering how a hut was the home of all the Potion Makers. They had to be half the size of the Macacawks.
“Yes,” said Bufo, and his reply was accompanied by a contortion in his facial features that Viven reckoned was a grin. “Ummm, can you wait here for some time? I will get your friends.”
“We’ll wait,” said Viven. “You bring them.”
Bufo went to the hut and opened its door. Viven saw it was pitch black inside . . . magical black. He came to the realisation it was no ordinary hut.
Putting his head in, Bufo said something. He was instantly gone, leaving thin air behind.
Viven gaped, dumbstruck. He turned to Aunt Gina, who could explain only as much as himself.
“He will bring them, right?” he asked her.
“He’s got to,” she replied, but her words lacked much trust. “He has to.”
For the first time, uncertainty formed in Viven’s mind against Bufo. What if he didn’t bring Manu and Dirita? He had accepted all his words and believed him. But now the belief seemed to have sprouted out of anxiety, anxiety for the boys.
“Who be there?”
Viven wheeled around. There was a man at the edge of the clearing. A warrior, sword in hand; he wore chainmail and had a rough face.
“You are not Potion Makers by any angle, are you?” he demanded.
“No,” said Viven, eyeing the sword. “Bufo brought us here.”
“Very well,” said the man. “I thought I had seen him overhead. He is a foolish brute, Bufo. Yesterday he brought two children, and today he has brought you. Why for, can I know?”
He lowered his sword, though not giving up his caution altogether.
“The children,” said Viven. “We came here to get them. We were separated from them yesterday.” If the man knew Bufo, then he shouldn’t pose them any harm. All the same, the sword in his hand made Viven recall the soldiers who had showed up at their door so many days back in Tempstow.
The man mused. He stared at Viven, muttering something under his breath as if studying him, his forehead encased in a frown.
“Wait a minute,” he said after a long pause. “Does the name Algrad Bezon mean anything to you?”
Not again.
Why did everybody in the forest appear to know his grandfather? However, it was beyond doubt that the man was a Potion Maker—and apparently the Potion Makers were humans and not puny beings. Recalling what Tonkeytus had spoken, there was a reason that his grandfather was familiar to them, so, wasn’t it obvious? He touched his right ear, pretending he had an itch there, although he only wanted to tear some of it and make it the size of his left ear.
“Algrad Bezon was my grandfather.”
The man’s jaw dropped.
“Mum! Viven!” Manu’s voice was music to Viven’s ears. He turned: Bufo had reappeared at the threshold of the hut; beside him were Manu and Dirita. They were covered in bruises and bandages, and Dirita’s cat was at his feet.
Aunt Gina ran up to Manu and hugged him, sobbing, but careful not to hug too tightly due to all his injuries.
“It’s okay, Mum,” Manu said, reddening and trying to pull away. “We are fine!”
“Oh, Manu,” Aunt Gina said in between tears. “You don’t know how worried I was!”
“It’s okay, Mum, it’s okay! Bufo says the Potion Maker medicines are super fast and it won’t be long before—”
“Hold on for a moment,” the warrior said from behind as he walked toward Viven.
“You say you are the grandson of Algrad Bezon, the naturalist who led the expedition to Tropagia?”
“Wh-what are you saying, Aremis?” Bufo interrupted, his tone dipped in disbelief. “Him? Bezon’s grandson?”
Aremis raised a hand to quieten Bufo, his hard face becoming all the more hard.
Viven experienced an abrupt weight in his guts. He had forgotten that the Potion Makers had accused his grandfather of murdering their old king!
“Y-yes,” he stuttered. By this time, Aremis was only a few steps away from him.
“TRAITOR!” Aremis yelled, and charged. Viven tried to run, but was no match for someone with years of combat experience behind him. Aremis outmatched him in speed and was upon him in no time.
“What’s going on?” cried Aunt Gina, terrified.
“Shut up!”Aremis roared. He twisted Viven’s arms, pulling them backward so he was a captive, and punched his stomach furiously, sending Viven to the edge of vomiting.
“Scum! You dare to come here?”
“Please,” Viven begged. “What have I done to you?” His torturer boxed him hard in the head as a reply.
“Bufo!”Aremis barked. “Get the others! These are the descendants of the dog, Algrad; don’t you want to avenge Brucus, eh?”
Struggling in vain, Viven heard wild screams and knew the frog lord had gotten the other three. From the corner of his eye, he saw Dirita’s kitten d
ash toward the trees to save its skin.
“I want to do away with each of them myself,” said Aremis. “But no, let’s take them to the court; only Aderis may punish them for their vile deed.”
Bufo grunted in agreement. Aremis yanked Viven’s hair and dragged him to the hut, Aunt Gina, Manu, and Dirita being already taken inside by Bufo.
Putting his head inside the hut, Aremis mumbled, “The court,” in a low voice, which may have been humble if not spoilt by the intensity of his rage.
All in a moment, the hut was full with light, a peculiar blue light so bright, it was a task to keep his eyes open. Taking effort, Viven looked back. There was no forest. They weren’t in any hut either. Just a void that had light and only light.
Soon the void itself disintegrated. Viven lay on a marble floor. Aunt Gina, Manu, Dirita, and Bufo were by his and Aremis’ side. Just a single roll of the eyes was enough:
They were in the throne room of a king’s palace.
***
The councillors were seated on two lines of daises, their crisp talking being what resonated about the room. Then, there was the king himself, seated separate from the councillors on a glamorous throne that was adorned by intricate minuscule tapestries on the sides.
Atop the king’s head was a ringed crown, fitted with a precious red gem that gleamed and declared his ultimate superiority.
It was he who first spotted them, and the councillors all fell in a pin-drop silence as they noticed where their majesty’s attention was set.
“Your Majesty,” said Aremis, bowing in respect but not loosening his grip on Viven at the same time.
“Speak,” the king said, eyeing the four captives.
Aremis did not waste time blabbing anything trivial, getting to the point at once.
“This lad here, my king, is the grandson of the traitor Algrad Bezon, murderer of your predecessor, our old king Brucus.”
As a shocked expression settled upon the king’s features, Bufo clumsily chimed in.
“And these, my king, I most regret to say, have turned out to be his kin.”
The king’s stare travelled to the other three with Bufo and then returned to Viven, in whom he was more interested.
The Sword of Tropagia Page 9