The Serpent and the Crown

by Sam Puma

  “Down there my grandfathers wrapped it around me and it became my skin. For a while I had forgotten all about it, until he spit on me.”

  “That was powerful work you did in the spirit world. But up here it will be different. We must experiment with it and come up with some different designs for how to make the armor.” Anhael mused about different ways to cut and shape and design the bark until the shadows of the trees were long and the sun was getting close to the horizon.

  “Janesa, do you know where we are?” Anhael asked.

  “We are getting close to Ram’s Hoof Gate, but the sun is setting. They’ll be awake soon.”

  “Yes, but the horde is far away. We’ve passed through this area many times without incident. We could probably spend the night out here tonight and be perfectly safe. Just in case we encounter any Cruxai, here is the plan: the three of you must lead Jankaro back to Caladon while I kill them off.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” said Jankaro. “We can’t just leave you behind, we should fight them together.”

  “I can handle a big group of them, no problem. I’ll be right behind you. We don’t want too much of our precious cargo damaged in a fight. Enough talk about it. We’re getting close to the gate, and we probably won’t see any Cruxai.”

  Jankaro looked at the mountains rising up in front of them. A steep cliff loomed ahead. He looked up high for Caladon but it was hidden in the clouds. Not another minute had passed by when Anhael held up his hand for them to halt, then motioned for them to be silent. “There is a group of them ahead,” he whispered. “They are still sleeping.”

  “They are going to wake up soon!” Janesa hissed in a whisper.

  “How many? Jankaro asked as he looked around and saw traces of their purple aura just a few paces ahead.

  “Looks like about 30. My night vision is kicking in and I can see their glow from here.”

  “You said you could handle five.”

  “I said you could handle five, you’re new. I can easily handle 30 when they are just waking up.”

  Jankaro frowned. Even the monkeys playing games and making faces in the trees above him couldn’t make him smile.

  “They’re still asleep,” said Anhael. “We don’t need to fight them. I’ll send a team down here tomorrow to take care of it. Lets just sneak through them and get to the gate. They won’t even know we were here. Let’s make this easy on ourselves.” He smiled and winked at them, but they all just stood there frowning at him, clutching their weapons tight.

  “We should just kill them,” said Franco.

  “I’d rather not damage our harvest,” said Anhael as he waved his hand for them to follow him and crept forward. The sun’s rays splashed all around, as its light took on an orange hue. “Follow my footsteps.” Anhael lifted his leg high with exaggeration as he stepped over a sleeping Cruxai.

  After a few steps, Jankaro could see the shapes with their purple glow all around him. They smelled foul, and it made him feel sick. As he followed Anhael and stepped over a body, he fought the urge to drive his sword through its chest while it slept. After sneaking around and over a few more, he was soon past them. He turned to make sure the helpers got through. Janesa was last, and as she stepped over the last Cruxai, it reached out and grabbed her ankle, pulling her down.

  She fell on her face in the underbrush with a muted gasp, and broke her fall with her hands as she fumbled her sword. She turned around to see the Cruxai getting up, but Jankaro was right there to swiftly drive his sword through the middle of its back. He pulled it out and the Cruxai dropped to the ground. Other Cruxai started to stir, but Anhael decapitated them before they reached their feet.

  “They are all waking up,” said Anhael as his blade ended another Cruxai. Get going. Show Jankaro to the gate. I will finish them off and catch up with you.” Others were stirring all around, and Jankaro stepped towards the fight.

  “Come on,” Janesa took his arm, Franco took his other arm, and they started to pull him away. He resisted them and turned to look back at Anhael, whose sword seemed to arc and slash in all directions.

  “Go on, Jankaro!” He shouted as he cleaved through one Cruxai after another while his hair flopped around behind him. They were getting up and charging with various weapons. Jankaro longed to fight with him.

  “I’ve got it under control!” He looked at Jankaro while his sword cut down two Cruxai in one stroke as he spoke.

  Jankaro reluctantly surrendered and hustled along with the three helpers. He didn’t want to lose a friend, but he figured Anhael could manage after seeing the shamanic quality of his swordsmanship.

  After two minutes of hard marching, they broke free of the jungle, into a clearing. The cliffs rose up starkly ahead of them. They jogged across the clearing, all the way to the base of the cliff. Janesa reached down to the ground and pulled up on a root. A hidden stone door rumbled open, and torchlight crackled in the hallway. They turned around to look for Anhael. As the moments passed, the sun set, but they could still see clearly by the ambient light.

  Jankaro worried for his friend but then he heard crashing sounds from the jungle, and Anhael burst out of the trees, running at a full sprint. “Thanks for clearing the path!” He shouted. Then came the Cruxai, chasing after him with their weapons held high. Before Jankaro had time to think, his sword was sheathed, his bow has in hand, and he was firing arrows into the chests and faces of the oncoming Cruxai.

  By the time Anhael reached them, over a hundred Cruxai had come out of the jungle in pursuit, some of them of the larger, hairier variety. Their eyes glowed faintly and they grunted and growled as they ran. “Get inside!” He shouted as he dove into the tunnel. The others followed while Jankaro kept right on firing arrows, killing with every shot. He fumbled his last arrow as Anhael pulled him into the cave. “Run!” he shouted, and they all took off running down into the tunnel. After they had sprinted several paces, Anhael suddenly stopped. Jankaro whirled around to see Cruxai coming into the tunnel in pursuit. He nocked an arrow and fired. But just as he did, Anhael reached up to the torch on the wall and pulled it down. The ceiling collapsed on Jankaro’s arrow midflight, and instantly crushed all the Cruxai that had made it through the opening. Not another sound was heard, as the dust wafted up into their faces.

  The five of them stood together, catching their breath. “Success!” cried Anhael.

  “There were more than you could handle,” said Jankaro.

  “Nah, it worked out just the way I planned it. You carry a very special gift, so I had to make certain you made it back. I won’t always be there for you like that… you’ll see. But anyway, we made it back and we’re all intact, and we’ve got our yanigo too.”

  “But they’re just lurking out there, right by the gate,” said Franco.

  “I will send out a squad tomorrow to take them out,” said Anhael.

  “I will go,” said Jankaro.

  “Oh no, no, no,” said Anhael. “Tomorrow you have a far more pressing task.”

  The Cave

  Juitao’s wife, Liana, cared for Jorobai as he recovered from the toxic onslaught the bee stings had wrought upon his body. He was in pain and incapacitated for a while. She would come and check on him several times a day. Her eyes sparkled and she always wore a smile for him. She gently tended to his wounds and nursed him back to health. Through it all, Jorobai’s mind was spinning with a single question. “Who is Jugon Drogon?”

  “He is coming!” She clapped her hands together, clasped them in front of her chest, and smiled wide. “Every year he comes to visit us. You will see, Jorobai!” She reached out and squeezed his shoulder and gave it a little shake. “He is coming in one month, on the next full moon. We will all sing and dance and feast and celebrate this island and the abundance that we share here, and we will give thanks and praise to Jugon Drogon, our protector.”

  “What does he look li
ke? Is he a man?”

  Liana giggled and stroked his hair back from his eyes. “Oh Jorobai, don’t be worried. Now that the cat is gone, the palika are returning, and we will have plenty for the feast. It will be so joyful! You will be amazed to see Jugon Drogon. He is big and strong and handsome and he has always protected us. Every year, on the first full moon after the winter solstice, he comes to visit us, and we have the Celebration of Jugon Drogon.” She smiled, extended her arms out and performed a brief dance with her whole upper body, then wiggled her hips. “You look like you are feeling much better. You can help us harvest the yucca today.” She patted him on the shoulder and walked away, toward the garden.

  Jorobai slowly got up and walked to the edge of his hut. He followed her over to the garden, got down on his knees and dug his hands into the ground. He looked around and everyone was so friendly to him. They welcomed him. There were more women than men, and they seemed to be drawn to him. He could see that it was a very beautiful place to live, and the tribe seemed so harmonious. But he couldn’t escape the darkness inside his heart. He felt like a part of himself had been ripped away. He decided right then, he didn’t want to be part of their tribe. He kept to himself, slowly digging up yucca plants, while he formulated a plan to leave.

  Around sunset one of the hunters came back to the village with two palika he had killed. He was thrilled to show them off to everyone, proclaiming that the birds were returning to abundance. He presented the larger of the birds to Juitao, who showed his gratitude with a hug, a big smile and a pat on the back.

  Jorobai desperately wanted to refuse Juitao’s dinner invitation. But he wanted to deceive him into thinking that everything was placid between them. He didn’t want to give away his plan of sneaking away that night to climb that hill and finish the search for Jankaro, then try to make it to the beach and build a raft and get off the island. It was an ambitious plan that would involve moving through the jungle all night with the vines at his feet.

  He bit into the cooked flesh of the palika with zeal. He smiled at Juitao and thanked him for being so generous and sharing the bird. He complemented Liana on her use of spices and spoke of the rare quality of the yucca. Inside he was torn apart. He hated to eat from Juitao’s table. He knew that Juitao believed that eating the palika gave him strength. If it was true, Jorobai knew he would need that strength for what he was about to attempt. So he laughed at Juitao’s jokes and followed along attentively to the banter of Liana with her children. After dinner was over, it was dark. He bade them good night and started to go to his open air hut in the middle of the village.

  “If you are feeling better tomorrow,” said Juitao, “you can come with us to hunt palika.”

  Jorobai pretended to gladly accept the invitation, but inside, he knew he wouldn’t be there. He went to his hut and lay down. He pretended to sleep and waited. He listened to the murmurs die down. He waited until all the torches were extinguished. Then he sunk into himself, and he remembered back to the time when Jankaro was a baby. He would watch him fall asleep, through all the phases: tired, kicking, relaxing, becoming drowsy, falling into a deep and dreaming sleep. He laid there awake, walking himself through all the phases in his imagination while listening to the insects cast their symphonic mating calls in the background. His heart was racing and he knew that there could be eyes on him. If not eyes, then subtle energetic waves of attention.

  It was pitch black and he was biding his time. He thought about his baby son, kicking his legs, then finally settling down to sleep. He imagined every moment and every word his wife would say, how connected to them he felt back then. He imagined the whole sequence, moment by moment, until his child was settled into a deep and tranquil sleep.

  He stayed posed in the fetal position as he cast his eyes all around the sleeping village, illumined by the full moon. He sat up and looked all around. There was no one. Everyone was asleep.

  He got up and walked outside of his hut. He looked up at the dark mountain in the distance and set his resolve. He briskly walked to the edge of the village where it met the forest. He reminded himself what that meant. Once he set foot outside the village, the vines would be after him. They had taken Gondaro, and they had nearly taken him on many occasions. He knew that once he set foot outside the village, there could be no stopping until he reached a safe point. But nothing felt safe. Juitao was the leader of the village, and he didn’t trust Juitao. If Jankaro wasn’t in the cave with Jugon Drogon, then it was time to leave the island. With or without Gondaro. He had had enough. His heart beat quickly as he took a deep breath and crossed the threshold into the wild land that tormented him.

  He jogged along, up the winding pathways. He thought he saw a poisonous snake, but he tried to pay it no mind. Before he knew it, he was climbing. Up and up. It was steeper and steeper as he went, but he refused to stop even for a moment. He would deny the vines any opportunity. He would finish his search.

  He kept climbing and it got more and more difficult. He had to hoist himself up the dangling roots, tree trunks, and vines. There were many types of vines, not just the ones that entrapped him. He grasped them with trepidation, but there was no other choice.

  He stepped on poison frogs and spotted pink salamanders mating. He didn’t care. He wasn’t going to let any of that get in his way. He was shocked when he reached a plateau and pulled himself up on solid ground. He strode a few steps forward and there were no more plants, just rocks. He stopped and looked around but there were no vines coming for him. He turned around to see a cave.

  The mouth of the cave stood tall and dark. The full moon hung high in the sky. He feared what Jugon Drogon could be, but he had no reference point from any previous experience in his life. It looked like the cave of a large beast. The vast darkness leapt out at him and he felt cold all over his body. He took two steps towards the dark cave and paused again to look around. Still the vines did not disturb him. In the full moon’s light he could see most of the island beneath him. He looked above the cave and there was just a hump above it. He was at the very top. His search was complete, except for inside the cave.

  He couldn’t explain the fear he felt, but he decided to move forward. He walked toward the entrance of the cave, until he was right at the threshold, with blackness beyond, and the moonlight at his back. If Jankaro was on this island, this was the last place to search.

  Jorobai took a deep breath and prepared to step into the darkness of the cave. Then he heard a pronounced rustling in the leaves behind him. He turned and saw that there was nothing there. His attention shifted. He thought of Gondaro, and stepped back towards the treeline to look closer to see what it was.

  He heard a voice that sent a chill down his spine. “Jorobai!” He heard the call from the trees in front of him. He recognized the voice but he couldn’t believe it.

  “Jankaro?!” Jorobai trembled as he sprinted for the trees. He took one step into the trees, then tripped and fell and went crashing and tumbling down the hillside. He rolled down and crashed into trees and tried to grab something to stop himself. He grabbed a vine, crashed into a tree with his ribs and came to an awkward and painful stop.

  He felt a vine tickling his foot.

  “Jorobai!” He heard Jankaro’s voice calling to him in the distance, back in the direction of the village. He sprang up before the vine had a chance, and sprinted downhill in the direction of Jankaro’s voice. The terrain was getting easier to deal with. He could taste victory in his mouth. He would be reunited with his son in a moment. “Jorobai!” He heard him call again, and this time he was closer. He was mystified to realize that he was nearly back to the village. The implications washed over his mind, but he had no time to break apart the possibilities, chasing after his son’s voice as he crashed through the foliage.

  He heard Jankaro call his name again, and he was just ahead. Jorobai broke through the trees, back into the village. He looked up at his hut in the center of the vi
llage and heard his son call his name again. But it was not Jankaro standing there and calling. It was Juitao. He was smiling and laughing, and holding the bottle of Amoza in his hand. His legs were not his own. They were bird legs. The feathers of the palika sprouted from his shoulders and all down his arms, like he had become one of their own. He laughed and pointed at Jorobai as he brandished the bottle of Amoza. Jorobai was sickened by the sight of him. The blunt end of one of the hunter’s spears impacted the back of Jorobai’s skull and brought him to his knees. He collapsed in swirl of disillusionment, chaos and hopelessness. Juitao cleared himself out and the hunters threw Jorobai up on the platform of his hut and bound his hands behind his back, tethered to one of the corner posts with dried, woven vines. He was dizzy as he writhed in agony and tried to fight. Another impact from the blunt end of a spear to the side of his head knocked him unconscious.

  As the dawn arrived, Jorobai didn’t know why his head hurt so much. Was it the pain from the blow that knocked him out? Was it the despair of being tied to a post by a man such as Juitao? Or was it the anguish of defeat after having tasted the victory of finally reuniting with his long lost son? He didn’t know the answer as he knelt and his head sagged down on the planks of his hut. His back and ribs throbbed with pain as he wriggled his wrists against the knots that bound them, to no avail.

  As he came to his senses in the light of the new day, the village stirred and came to life. The villagers attended to their daily routine, as casual as ever, and occasionally he heard Juitao point at him and laugh. Jorobai noticed that Juitao’s legs had returned to their normal human form, but his arms, head and back were more elaborately decorated with blue feathers than ever before.

  Liana came and offered Jorobai something to eat. She was just as sweet as ever as she spooned it towards his mouth, as if she were feeding a very small child. He disdainfully took some of the food to restore some of his energy, but all he could bear to take were a few swallows.