“There are six levers. Five if you don’t count the one that he grabbed,” I said.
“And each has a symbol,” the mimic said.
Saboraak? Any thoughts? There was no response. Bataar coughed violently. Saboraak must be fading as his strength faded.
I needed to act quickly if I were going to act.
“You could opt out. Go back to the real world and leave this fool here. You owe him nothing,” the mimic said.
“I owe Saboraak everything,” I said.
“And if she dies, you die,” the mimic said, nodding.
“Yes, but that’s not why I’m doing this. Besides, I’m starting to like Bataar. If nothing else, he makes me look less like a stick-in-the-mud when I’m near him. He’s already got that role filled.”
“Then we’ll have to figure out these signs,” the mimic said.
There was a symbol over each hole in the face’s mouth – over each lever. A cup, an oasis, a hand, a star, a knife, and a running man.
“Glory is an empty cup,” Bataar muttered. “Empty cup.”
Ha. Well, that actually helped. Each one of these symbols was for one of the precepts. The empty cup was the one for the precept that Bataar was quoting. And it was clear about not grasping the cup, so Bataar had chosen a different lever – the star.
I ran through the precepts in my mind: No man is a single oasis. Okay, we’d already done that one. I’d failed it and gained this lovely mimic companion.
“You should be glad to have me. I can tell you not to grab the oasis lever.”
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”
“I can’t.” He scoffed.
The second precept was, a man has no claim in what is not already his. That was how I gained the mysterious leaf ring in my pocket. So, it wasn’t that one.
Glory is an empty cup. Do not grasp for it. That was the one Bataar thought this test was about. So, he hadn’t grabbed for the cup of glory. That made a lot of sense.
“Unless it’s meant to trick you. Maybe you should grab the cup.”
Was I really as stupid as this other Tor? The rules couldn’t be plainer than ‘do not grasp for it.’ There were three more. Those with feet rooted in the ground will never reach for the stars. That was the one Bataar had chosen. A good choice. It mentioned reaching as a good thing right in the precept. The star symbol was clear above his sweating, delusional face.
But he had been wrong. There were two other options.
The power of death belongs to us all, but life serves no master.
All things must strive.
The knife and the running man. One for the power of death that belonged to all men. One for striving. I understood that much. So, which was it? That other precept said you could only claim what was already yours. If death was already mine, it made sense to claim it, right? I knelt in front of the lever with the knife above it.
But then again, the guys here had been very big on working hard and sacrifice and wasn’t that what striving was?
I hesitated, reaching toward the other lever – the one with the running man. Either hand could reach – or both. I could try both at once. They were right next to each other.
“I think you have to choose,” the mimic said. “I don’t think you can do both.”
“Maybe I should make you do it,” I muttered. “After all, you are me.”
The hand reaching toward the lever with the knife inscription itched in anticipation. There was no glory in death and glory was what Bataar was muttering about. It was clearly the right answer, I was just stalling because I was afraid to pull it.
“I don’t do your dirty work,” the mimic said with a smirk. “You read the stone face. It said, ‘You must choose.’ You. Not me.”
My eyes opened wide. Oh.
Before I could change my mind, I reached into the alcove with the running man symbol. All things must strive. Striving required choice and action. I’d made my choice. I took the action.
I pulled the lever.
Chapter Twelve
IF THERE WAS SOME REWARD for winning this one, it wasn’t apparent. A gong sounded, shaking the beach so that it quivered and vanished and left me kneeling on a tree branch beside an unconscious Bataar. His arm lay limp and crushed beside him and the angle of it made my stomach heave. I crawled to him, missing the mimic in that moment. I could use his unique brand of moral support. He had a thicker skin than I did.
I tried to shake Bataar, but his head lolled uselessly to the side. I swallowed. I couldn’t leave him here and I couldn’t save Saboraak without him. I’d just have to find a way to carry him – without destroying his arm in the process if that was possible.
I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead. When had I started sweating? A light golden tinge lit everything. Maybe there was a golden orb nearby. With difficulty, I grabbed one of Bataar’s legs and his uninjured arm and slung him up over my shoulders. He was heavy. A lot heavier than Zin and a lot stinkier than her, too. I tried not to think about his sweat soaking into my clothes. With a grunt, I tried to walk. I could just manage it. We couldn’t be too far from the end of the test. I didn’t have to beat it – after all – I’d skipped a few steps. I just needed to get Bataar through it.
Saboraak? Nothing.
Kyrowat? Still nothing.
I tried not to worry about it, even though my outlook was plummeting faster than a stone thrown from the Ko’tor’kaen.
Apeq would have gone past all of them in his journey to the test. And he hated my friends. I didn’t want to picture them slaughtered on the roots below, but the images filled my mind anyway. I blinked them away, but they kept coming back like jagged shards of glass in my mind.
“Gautm!”
I took a shaky step forward and the tree shook wildly. Gautm blinked to life in front of me. He looked back and forth rapidly between Bataar and me.
“This is out of the usual,” he said nervously. “You may only take your own test.”
“Not acceptable,” I said. “We passed the last one.”
“You passed it,” he agreed. “The other boy did not.”
“He’s with me.”
The ancient warrior looked muley for a moment but then he nodded reluctantly. His eyes were huge when he looked at me.
“What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”
He coughed nervously. “Forgive me. I am simply surprised that you are still here. You did win the ring after all.”
“The ring?” I laughed humorlessly. “I don’t even know what it does.”
He startled, then looked around as if worried that we would be overheard. “It was what you wished for when you took it – what you already possessed. The ability to get yourself out of trouble. If you put it on and merely wish to go – well, you’d leave this place.”
“I’d hardly abandon the people I brought here with me,” I said drily. I might be as awful as my mimic, but even I wasn’t that bad.
He looked surprised. “If you leave free and clear from the test, then the people you brought here will leave with you. Of course, the poor soul you are carrying cannot come with you. But he is close to death already. As is his companion.”
He said it so factually, as if he had not just plunged a dagger into my heart. Saboraak!
I stumbled forward to one knee, trembling.
“A sad end, no doubt,” Gautm said. “But one of honor. They will be remembered here.”
No. There had to be another way. There had to be. I could hear myself gibbering in my own mind. Or maybe that was the mimic. Or maybe I was going mad.
“If you don’t choose to use the ring, you have another task to find. Follow the branch and remember the last precept.” There was a loud boom from below and his face went white. “Whatever you decide, you should hurry. The man who came after you is pulling this World of Legends down on our heads. Five hundred years we have been in this tiny world. Five hundred years we have judged the heroes and given them what they need.” He shoo
k his head sadly. “The two of you may be the last. Already, he has destroyed so much of this place. It may not last beyond your testing – maybe not even that long.”
His face was sad as he faded away.
I slumped to one knee. We could leave – some of us. And if we didn’t, I would have to hurry before Apeq destroyed everything. I heard a blast as something tore apart, something that sounded like it was just under me. Apeq must be blasting his way through the tree rather than following the path.
I’d thought I was so clever to cheat the system and climb through the branches. I wasn’t the only one with that idea.
In fact, Apeq was doing it faster and more effectively than I could have dreamed.
I hated that we were so alike. He was as much like me as my own mimic.
On my shoulders, Bataar moaned and I bit my lip. Even if I took him with me, I had no guarantee that I could beat the next Trial and no way to get him and Saboraak out if I didn’t.
If I left now, with the ring, at least I could guarantee the safety of the others who had come with me. I could minimize the losses.
But I wasn’t the kind of guy who hedged my bets. And I was sure I could win this test if I was given a fair fight. Bataar and Saboraak, though – well, Gautm had said they were close to death.
I lowered Bataar to the ground and pulled the ring out of my pocket, letting my finger run over the leaf pattern. It was tempting to keep it – an ace up my sleeve. But I knew a losing hand when I saw it, and Bataar’s had already lost. Steeling myself for the challenge ahead, I took a deep breath, ready to shove the ring over Bataar’s finger.
This had better work.
A hand yanked me backward.
Chapter Thirteen
THE RING ALMOST SLIPPED through my fingers, but I clung to it. It was a ticket out of here – for someone, at least – and I didn’t dare lose it.
I spun around to see a grim-faced Apeq, his fire-rod waving in front of me like he was drunk. His eyes were intense, the silver swirling brightly in them. But his breathing was ragged, and it made his hands shake.
I lifted my own hands in a sign of peace. No need to kill me.
Tor. Saboraak’s voice was the barest whisper in my mind. I fade.
I didn’t have time for Apeq.
“Apeq,” I greeted him calmly. “How are the arms? Baby soft with that new skin growing?”
I shouldn’t antagonize him. I knew that, but I couldn’t stop.
“Three days I’ve chased you. Three days since those fools let you into the World of Legends.” He seemed almost mad with his intensity.
Three days? It felt like we had only been here for a few hours at most.
“This old place?” I looked around at the tree branches dramatically. “It’s entertaining, but a bit limited, you know? I haven’t had a decent meal yet and the accommodations are the worst. The roots just stick into your back.”
“This isn’t a joke,” Apeq growled. “Do you know what is at risk here?”
“Something about truth?” I shook my head in wide-eyed innocence.
He laughed scornfully. “I should kill you right here.”
I should be scared. But I wasn’t. If I was going to die, I’d die on my feet.
“Then go ahead and do it.”
His face contorted in rage and he looked down the rod as if he were aiming the fire. Gautm appeared out of nowhere, standing between me and the rod.
“Until the end of the testing, the peace of this place must be preserved,” he said harshly. “We have told you this!”
We were surrounded – instantly – by others like Gautm – shadowy, flickering people in strange attire. They wore black kilts and crossing straps over their chests, or long vests and light baggy pants, or thick cummerbunds over flaring coats – but despite their variety of outfits, they all wore one thing in common: a fierce expression.
“We told you below, Apeq A’kona,” a woman with flowing black hair said. She was wizened with age, but her curving sword was large and sharp. “You may kill us all you want, but it will not bring what you seek. Only completing the trials will do that. Death and life are not the same here. Neither is time. All are subject to a different master.”
“I can still kill the boy here,” Apeq said, his gaze never leaving mine. “I can scatter him across these branches, a burned fragment here, a bloody scrap there.”
“Like the burning Ko when they fell from your arms and marked you as an imposter?” I asked.
“If you kill him in the World of Legends, you will fail the test.”
“Maybe I don’t need to succeed,” Apeq said. His hand still wove and shook as he kept the rod pointed at me despite raging emotions.
I tried to look cool and collected. The last thing I needed was to go as mad as he seemed to be. If I did that, then we would all die. Apeq, too, because I wasn’t going down without taking him with me.
I clenched my fists and steeled my jaw. If this came to a fight, I would be ready. And I’d need to watch out for Bataar. One false move could kill him. He was slumped on the branch behind me, his breathing shallow. He almost seemed not to breathe at all.
“If you fail the test, the same fate will fall on you as on all the others,” the old woman reminded Apeq. “You will die here, and the world beyond will remember your name no more. But you will not stay here. This world is a place for legends – for those who in life were heroes. It is no place for fools or failures.”
I shivered, my gaze wandering to Bataar. His only hope was the ring – these people had no mercy. I needed to get that on his finger. I shifted slightly, as if to go to him, but Apeq yelled.
“Don’t move! Don’t even flinch!”
“Sure,” I said tightly, hands still up, still placating.
“Where is the last test?” Apeq demanded. “Tell me. I will beat it and then all of you will be under my rule. That’s what the prophecies say: He who walks the World of Legends commands the ancients. He who passes their scrutiny will divide truth from lies and set the course of history. He will be called Ko’roi – the weaver of the future. Once that’s true for me, even you will bow the knee! Even you, ghosts!”
Yeah, he was crazy.
He lowered his rod, but the intensity of his gaze only grew as he pushed past the heroes of legend and planted a hand on my chest to push me aside. I let him. Flinching only when he kicked Bataar as he passed.
We stood in silence as his walk turned to a run and he disappeared down the branch and into the warren of branches beyond.
I hurried over to Bataar. His chest wasn’t moving. Or if it was, then it was so small a movement that I could barely see it at all.
“Come on, Bataar, hang in there!” I muttered. “You’re arrogant, and a hard guy to compete with, and I’m pretty sure that the only girl who’s ever kissed me is in love with you, but when it comes to a choice between you and Apeq, I’d rather see you lead Ko’Torenth. So, you can’t die yet.”
I jammed the ring over his finger, hoping it worked, hoping it would save both him and my dragon.
Bataar disappeared.
Chapter Fourteen
I STRAIGHTENED, EXPECTING the ancestor ghosts to be gone, but instead, they still stood there, a silent line of fearsome warriors – most long past their prime. They were looking at me with owlish stares.
“Well, I don’t know what you expected me to do with that ring, but I was hardly going to run away when I had friends in trouble, right? What kind of a guy would that make me? I’m no hero, but you don’t need to be a hero to see that Bataar wasn’t doing well.”
They kept staring and I couldn’t help but say more. If they expected anything from me, I’d set them straight.
“Just because I chose to stay doesn’t mean that I want anything from you, okay? I just want my friends to be safe. You don’t need to look at me like that. I’m not here to take anything from you.”
“The power of death belongs to us all, but life serves no master,” Gautm quoted quietly and there
was a murmur among the Ko Bearers.
I had no idea what that meant. It was one of their precepts, but it seemed silly. Of course, everyone had the power to kill, and no one could bring people back to life. That was just common sense.
Or were they saying life was unpredictable? If so, that was an idea I could get on board with.
Maybe they were just curious. After all, they must not get much entertainment here.
The sun was rising behind me, and as its golden beams trickled between the leaves, the ko on the arms of the ghosts disappeared just like mine did. Their holy symbols were invisible once again.
What was the point of symbols you could only see at night anyway?
“Maybe that’s when you most need to see them – when things are darkest.”
I looked over to my mimic. He was standing a little further up the branch, close to where Apeq had disappeared into the tangle. I sighed. I’d hoped he would stay in the illusions.
“I’m not easy to put in a box,” he said with a twisted smile.
Yeah. That was me, alright.
“Well,” I said to the ghosts, as if they were people waiting to hear what I had to say. “I guess I’d better get on with it.”
They said nothing, just staring at me. Their eyes followed my every movement. Creepy.
It was hard to turn my back on them, but I had no choice. I started slowly, shuffling along the branch while looking over my shoulder, but as the distance increased, I sped to a hurried walk and then a lope. The mimic kept pace with me.
“Think he set any traps for us up ahead?” he asked.
That was just the kind of thing I’d suspect. I’d better keep my eyes open.
“I’ve got mine open, too.”
“Maybe you aren’t a curse after all,” I muttered as I scrambled up through a place where the branch narrowed and split, climbing on all fours across to the next branch through the warren of poking twigs and swaying branches.
“Oh, I’m a curse. Ask anyone else. Two of you is two too many.”
Uh huh.
I made it up to the next branch, but there were no orbs nearby. I would have seen their glow despite the golden sunbeams that pierced the leaves in streams of goldenrod and lime. Tiny dust motes danced in the light like magic and I shivered.
Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 5-8 Page 12