“Monkeys are stupid,” Mist presses. “Like your shadowwalker friend Sorella. Too dumb to make the only choice that would have let her survive another day.”
Sorella . . . dead? Killed by the ants? Gogi wants not to believe it, but it makes sense—Sorella wouldn’t have missed their reunion if she could possibly have made it. Mez’s hairs stand up, and her jaws open to bare her teeth, but Gogi watches her tamp her reaction down. Better to swallow this news for now, if they want to avoid the same fate.
Heart sinking, Gogi watches as the ants swarm up dazed Chumba, too, and even crawl all over the body of Lima, where she sleeps securely in Gogi’s grip. These ants could kill them at any time.
“You know, I wouldn’t have let the ants kill you in the cave,” Mist says, an eye to Gogi as he picks his way through the vegetation to stop a few paces in front of them. “But I needed to chase you out so that I could talk to you without worrying about a surprise attack.”
“Do you expect a round of applause?” Mez asks. “You’re a disgrace.” Even with ants crawling over her mouth and nose, she spits at Mist’s feet.
Learning about Sorella has only proven that there’s no point in antagonizing Mist too much, not when their lives are in his hands. “So, Mist, how did you know where we were?” Gogi asks, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible as he falls in behind the white panther.
“You’re in no position to ask questions,” Mist growls. Then, seeing Gogi’s open expression, his tone softens. “Let’s just say that your side is not the only one that can harness the power of the eclipse.”
Is it possible that Mist is lonely? Gogi can see how that would happen, Mist spending all his time with ants and—shudder—the Ant Queen. He shoots a glance at Mez, who keeps her gaze steadily on the ground. “It must have been hard to be all on your own, with no family with you,” Gogi tries as Mist leads them forward.
“Enough,” Mist says. “I won’t let you manipulate me, monkey.”
Gogi falls into silence. He walks on three limbs, Lima cradled in one arm, so he can use his tail to dab more of Lima’s saliva on her bites. As they recede she falls even deeper into her slumber, her breathing slow and deep under Gogi’s fingers. At least it appears that Lima will make it.
The rainforest in this area is hearty old growth, thick, dark green leaves sending down torrents of water from above. Mist goes slowly, swatting his paws at clogs of vegetation. His claws rend some of it completely, allowing the others to pass behind him, but often he just bats it away, so it thwacks Gogi or Mez or Chumba full in the face. Gogi winds up with a mix of ants, spiders, termites, and the occasional centipede as he trudges through the wet twilight jungle. He taps the pebbles in his bag, wishing he were at home in the capuchin forest, lazing about with Alzo. Or that he were with his vision of his mother. Anywhere but here, weighed down with ants, following a treacherous panther.
Gogi tries to send Mez glances as he goes, but she keeps her gaze trained away. She knows Mist better than Gogi does, of course—maybe she knows there are dire consequences if he catches them so much as looking at each other. If only they’d had even a few minutes to plan after the vision. They haven’t spoken about Rumi and Sky, about the frog and the macaw’s new intimacy, their approach to the Cave of Riddles. How they weren’t able to get a message to the pair about where they could be found. All of their plans are unraveling.
Then there’s the question of what the Ant Queen will do with them once she has them in her clutches. Maybe she has some way of forcing them to work for her. Maybe she’ll threaten to kill one of them unless the others collaborate. Maybe she’ll siphon off their magic like Auriel once did, leaving them emptied husks. Maybe she simply wants to witness their destruction for herself, to be sure that the shadowwalkers are dead and gone.
Gogi pats the woven sack along his side. Of course, the Ant Queen might not know what they hope to do to her.
Could a little rotten stick really take down something as fearsome as the Ant Queen? Doesn’t seem likely. Whatever is to come, it’s probably not going to be anything good.
MIST MARCHES THEM all night, through the winding spaces between liana vines and overgrown trees, through clearings and along brambled streams. He takes the lead, positioning Mez next, right where he can see her, followed by Gogi and finally Chumba. The poor calico panther is the worst off. She’s almost comatose, tail dragging through the soil.
Gogi’s feet grow heavy, and he keeps letting out long sighs. The ants. They’re the worst part. Gogi can feel them pulling apart his follicles, examining his body, testing his skin for plumpness. Their sharp legs make him itch, but he’s unable to do anything about it for fear they’ll start biting him. As he gets tired, the itchy feeling of being covered in invaders bothers him more and more. The future looks gloomier than ever. Killed by ants now, or by their queen later—is there really much difference?
At least Mist isn’t a shadowwalker, so he’ll need to sleep once the Veil lifts. They all can get some rest then, even though it’s precisely the time when any decent monkey would be waking up for the day.
Gogi pulls Lima out of his woven sack, where he placed her for safekeeping. She’s still resting, and her bites are healing nicely. No sign of infection. He places her back in. At least there’s some ray of hope in all of this misery.
As the night wears on, Gogi feels himself getting clumsier and clumsier, his hands snagging in tangles of vines or, once, his foot dropping right into a tarantula den. He got it back out before he was bitten, but that certainly woke him up.
As the Veil comes near to lifting, Mist draws them up short. Chumba lumbers right into him. “Sorry,” she mumbles, exhausted.
Mist whirls and bites her hard on the ear. Chumba bares her teeth and prepares to lunge at him, but it’s a weak stance. Her legs tremble. Then her eyes go wide in fright.
“Ah,” Mist says, smirking as his own circlet of ants continues its march around his head. “You’ve felt the hundreds of mandibles on your skin scratch at once. All I have to do is say the word, and they lower their stingers and inject their venom. Go ahead, cousin. Strike me. Try.”
With visible effort, Chumba forces her lips back over her teeth.
Indignant, Mist whirls and presses down the fanned leaves of a low palm. On the other side, the jungle gives way to a rocky cliff that breaks and then begins again on the far side of a narrow canyon. A raging river roars somewhere far below. A hundred monkeylengths up along the cliff side from them, a delicate span of stone crosses the chasm.
“We’re almost there now,” Mist says. “The queen waits for us at the summit of that mountain.”
Gogi looks up. At the far side of the canyon, the rainforest continues for a ways until it begins to climb, turning into a misty green mountain. It goes higher and higher until, near the summit, the greenery parts to reveal bald brown earth. There’s movement on it, but it’s too far away for Gogi to see. It’s at least two more nights of strenuous travel away.
Is that where the Ant Queen is? Already too aware of the mandibles grazing his own skin, Gogi tries to hold back his fear—and anger.
He smells smoke. Whoops. Gogi forces his tail to stop smoldering.
Mez and Chumba come near Gogi and stand shoulder to shoulder with him. “This looks a little like that canyon we had to cross when we first came to the ziggurat,” Mez says.
“And now history repeats,” Gogi says.
“Only this time it’s our own cousin betraying us, instead of Auriel,” Chumba says quietly.
If Mist heard her, he gives no sign of it. “We’ll rest here for the day,” he commands. “Then we cross the canyon at dusk.”
Gogi gently lays an ant-covered hand on Mez’s head. The first time they met, he saved her with his fire after she was attacked by wasps lying in wait on a rope bridge’s underside. The river they hear could be the same one, finally letting out to sea after it rounds the mountain. This canyon has no sign of any wasps, no sign of life at all. Just the ants. And Gogi ha
s no idea how he can save his friends this time.
Mist settles in on the rock canyon edge. Far below, the rushing water sends up a roaring sound, loud enough to vibrate the stones. He yawns and rests his head between his paws. “I’ve ordered the ants to bite you if you go more than a few feet away, or if you try to communicate with one another. So don’t pull anything. At the next dropping of the Veil, I will bring you to submit to your new queen.”
“Yeah, we heard you the first time,” Gogi grumbles.
“How are you communicating with the ants?” Mez asks bitterly.
Mist draws himself up. “The Ant Queen can grant that power. All of her allies have limited ant telepathy through the ants that circle our heads. You experienced it once, cousin, back when you were the queen’s prisoner. I command them with my thoughts. Watch.”
Gogi’s hair rises as he feels the ants, as one, crawl one direction and then another on his body, in perfect synchrony. He sees Mez’s and Chumba’s hackles rise too.
“You just let them into your brain? Did they break the eardrum? Did it hurt?” Gogi asks.
“No, of course they don’t walk into my brain, monkey. They receive chemical messages from other ants and then vibrate their legs along my eardrum to communicate them. Enough for now. It is time to sleep,” Mist says as he draws into the cover of the low palms. “I recommend you do the same, too.”
Gogi wonders if he’ll be able to, even with his exhaustion. Chumba will fall into daycoma, of course, there’s no resisting that. But Gogi and Mez and Lima are unbounded by the Veil. He shoots a glance at Mez. Her eyes are bloodshot, but alert and darting. She may not be able to sleep, either.
They settle into the fronds, ant bodies crunching under Gogi’s butt despite his best efforts not to squish any. It doesn’t bring the rest to attack. Apparently, ants aren’t much bothered by the loss of other ants. Good to know.
Chumba’s soon snoring, her body spooned inside Mez’s. Mist keeps apart from the others, his eyelids drooping, and then relaxes into sleep. Gogi looks at Mez. Are they really going to keep silent the whole day?
“So,” Mez whispers. “We need to talk about escape strategies.”
“These ants are worse than monkeycuffs,” Gogi says mournfully. He feels the crawling sensation all over his body pause, then something almost like a chafed sunburn as all the ants train their mandibles on his skin. His eyes widen. Mez’s eyes widen.
They go silent.
Talking is definitely not allowed.
Somehow, despite the light, and despite the heat of the sun penetrating between the fronds and drawing sweat from every one of his pores, Gogi falls asleep. It’s a dreamless and listless slumber, halfway to waking at all times.
Gogi comes alert to a creaking sound, and then it’s back to the drone of cicadas. The creaking sound again, then back to the cicadas.
Gogi cracks open his eyes.
He’s the only one of the group awake to see a furry brown creature halfway across the stone bridge. The animal is totally motionless, so much so that Gogi assumes it’s fallen asleep. But then it moves one clawed hand over another, then one clawed foot, then the other. It rests again. It’s a sloth.
Wait. It’s Banu!
He must have passed by without even noticing his friends hidden away in the fronds. And now he’s halfway across the arc of stone already, heading toward the misty mountain at the far side. Gogi’s eyes go wide and he carefully sits up, alert to the ants in his fur. They seem to allow this small movement, though.
Gogi makes a tsk-tsk sound. Once, and then again. Banu doesn’t seem to notice, just continues his slow, creeping progress across the bridge.
“Sweet monkeybreath,” Gogi whispers to himself. “Banu got our message!”
Gogi realizes that Lima, if she’s recovered enough, might be able to quietly fly over to the sloth. He pulls her out of the sack and gives her a nudge in the belly.
Her eyes half-open to slits, and then close again. “Can’t . . . just a bat!”
Lima hasn’t recovered enough to fly anytime soon.
Banu’s at an angle as he passes. Maybe there’s a way . . . maybe it would be too much risk to . . . Gogi decides to go ahead. Keeping the rest of his body motionless, he raises the fingers of one hand and snaps.
The sound isn’t loud, but he makes a burst of flame appear from the fingers. Just for an instant, then it’s gone. He snaps again. Another burst of flame.
Banu pauses. Then, slowly, he cranes his head in Gogi’s direction.
Another snap of flame.
Banu’s eyebrows rise. He opens his mouth to speak.
Gogi shakes his head, pointing at Mez and Chumba and lastly at Mist, then pantomiming his wrists being bound together.
Banu cocks his head, taking in the scene. Then, as fast as he can (granted, that’s about the speed of a newborn monkey), Banu starts reversing his way across the bridge. Once he’s on the near side, he takes in the stream of ants covering the animals. He nods, then pantomimes tapping Mez awake.
Gogi nods back.
Banu points to the sky, then points to the spot where the sun is descending toward the horizon. He rocks his clawed hand from one side to the other. Wait until the Veil drops.
Gogi nods and takes out sleeping Lima, holding her in his palm.
With his usual vacant smile, Banu lowers one clawed foot and then the other over the canyon’s edge, before he disappears.
Gogi reaches out with his free hand and, as slowly as possible so as not to startle the ants, nudges Mez’s shoulder.
Mez bats his hand away, but when Gogi nudges her again, her eyes go wide. What is it? she mouths.
Gogi holds up a finger. Wait. He tries to think of how to pantomime “Banu is here and he’s just gone down into the canyon for some reason I can’t figure out,” but he can’t, so he just keeps his finger held up.
Mez smoothly rises to a seated position, watching Gogi curiously.
Above the roar of rushing water from deep within the canyon comes an extra watery sound. Sort of like a bunch of spit wads flying through the air, actually. Gogi recognizes the sound from some of the pranks he’s pulled off with Alzo.
Then he sees it. A cord of water no wider than a monkey’s tail rises from within the canyon, whipping around at the tip as it grows higher and higher. There’s a sound of rushing air as water goes faster and faster up the cord, misting around it at the top, while the rest cascades back down into the canyon. It looks like a curious cobra, only made entirely of water, raising its head to check out the monkey and bat and panthers.
The magic snake goes perfectly still, water cascading all about it, while the sunset turns it purple and orange. Gogi watches through squinted eyes as the sun disappears, goes from a disc to a sliver to a speck.
The snake gives a shiver.
It shatters.
The cord of water becomes five cords, and each streaks toward one of the animals—Chumba, Mez, Lima, Gogi, and even Mist. Gogi startles and his legs spring, but he’s unable to get himself into the air before the water jet hits him. Given the amount of water that’s streaming toward him, and its speed, he expects to be knocked back. It’s a ferocious spray, to be sure, but though it bows his head and straightens his fur, it doesn’t push him off the ground. He realizes why when he sees that the spray has split into mini-tendrils around him, that it’s surrounded him in sparkling, shimmering streams of water, beating against his fur. He looks down under the cleaning spray and sees dirt and ants swirling around his feet—lots of ants.
“The ants!” he yells over the spray. “The water’s washing off the ants!”
The other animals are covered with similar sprays.
Banu hadn’t realized his power before their time at the ziggurat was over. Apparently, he’s figured it out now—and it involves control over water.
Gogi whoops in joy. “Banu! You’re amazing!”
The water stills and dissipates, the writhing ropes tumbling back into the canyon. The friends are left
dripping on the sunset rocks, looking about them in astonishment. Mist is particularly floored, woken from slumber with his mouth hanging wide open. The tendril of ants marching in a circle around his head has been washed away too.
“This is our chance!” Gogi yells. “Across the bridge, friends!”
Mez sputters, eyes still drooping with sleep. “What . . . what just . . . ?”
“Run!”
Lima flaps her wings, but they’re still too weak—and too wet—to lift her off the ground. She hobbles toward the bridge, until Gogi scoops her up and pops her into the woven sack. Then he makes his way across the slender arc of stone, surely placing hand over foot over tail over hand, until he’s at the far side. Sure, it’s high up, and wet, and there’s a raging river impossibly far below, but it’s still easy enough for a monkey. He turns around to see Mez and Chumba picking their way more cautiously, digging in their claws to gain extra purchase over narrow stones that wobble and creak.
Recovered from his surprise, Mist bares his teeth and staggers across the puddles on the far side, howling and hissing at the departing sisters.
Gogi saved Mez once before on a bridge like this, and he can do it again. Focus, Gogi. He readies his fire. Instead of sending a stream of flame, this time he makes his mind small and focused. Meticulous. Biting his lip, he creates a ball of fire, no bigger than a nut. He shoots it across the canyon. It whizzes right between Mist’s ears, sailing over him and into the green. The white panther looks up, startled, only to see Gogi readying another fiery bullet.
Hissing and yowling, Mist places a paw on the rock bridge. Gogi unleashes his fire pellet again, this time hitting Mist on the top of his head. Mist recoils in pain, scrambling backward, smoke rising from his fur. Then he starts forward again.
This time Gogi fishes a pebble from his bag and holds it between two fingers, igniting it as he rears back, preparing to throw. Seeing the actual flaming bullet about to come his way, Mist gives a ferocious howl and then, cringing, disappears into the brush.
The Lost Rainforest #2 Page 16