The elderly man couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds dripping wet, but he had somehow interrupted the celebration and was pointing into the distance…and then back to the people surrounding him.
Suddenly, a cry rose from the crowd.
“What are they saying?” Varden asked.
Eli listened; it was difficult to make out the syllables, and he wasn’t even certain if it was English. But the crowd had now started to move. En masse, the people—including the monks, still dressed in their festival finery—began to follow the two young men who held the old man on their shoulders.
“It sounds like… Wait!” Eli’s eyes widened. “They’re saying something about Lobzang. Lobzang Nomgyal was the name of the local government official cited in the contracts I copied! They’re calling for him—and they don’t sound happy.” He looked at Varden. “They must have found out what he was going to do. That he was going to sell them out and allow their village to be destroyed—and their people killed.”
“Marina,” said Varden, stopping. “She told them. She must have told them somehow.”
“And now Hedron’s plans are going to be ruined,” said Eli. For the first time, he saw Rue Varden smile.
“Yes. He’ll be fortunate to leave this place alive. They’re angry, and that is a powerful shaman who leads them.”
Eli shivered a little. But he had no real sympathy for the water CEO and his henchman.
You mess with Gaia, you get your ass handed to you by her and her people.
Because Eli knew for a fact that these people, these mountain-dwelling people whose ancestors had lived here for millennia, understood and respected the Earth and her power.
Forty-Six
When Marina opened her eyes, she found herself slumped on the boulder where she’d sat to remove her shoes for Gulam. She was alone, and there was nothing to indicate that he or Manish had been there. Even the tree under which the elderly man had been seated now appeared smaller than before.
She pulled herself to her feet and looked around, wondering how long she’d been out—and what exactly had happened. She felt a little achy, probably from collapsing unexpectedly onto the rock, but had no other residual symptoms.
But she didn’t hesitate very long. Eli and Varden would surely be looking for her—in fact, she pulled out her mobile phone to check for communication.
Lots of missed messages and calls from both of them.
She messaged them both back at the same time to let them know she was all right and would head back to the marketplace right away, then stuck the phone back in her pocket. She was just about to begin the rough walk down the side of the mountain when she felt something.
Someone was watching her.
The skin at the back of her neck prickled and she looked up. Her breath caught.
Snow Leopard was there, standing several feet above her on a rocky ledge. He looked down at her with steady blue-gray eyes.
Marina met his eyes with hers and felt her heart trip as their gazes connected. He was a magnificent creature. Lean and muscular—she swore she could see the vibrations of his barely leashed energy, trembling beneath his fur. She’d never seen anything as beautiful as his coat, with the splotches of shades of gray and black over white, and more shades of gray. His small ears were upright, and as she looked up at him, he made a sound.
A meow.
Marina smiled, for that sound was so unexpected, coming from such a large and ferocious-looking creature. But ferocious though he might appear, she felt no fear. He was close enough to easily launch himself down upon her, but he seemed to have no intention of doing so.
After a moment, he turned and began to walk away. He’d taken no more than two or three steps when he paused and looked over his shoulder.
She heard the voice in her head: Are you coming?
And so she followed.
The path wasn’t easy, but Marina was not about to lose sight of the large cat. It was half climbing and half walking along rocky ledges and hairpin turns—a journey that could never be taken by any vehicle.
She felt the energy of the Earth even more strongly as she followed the cat into a thick mountainside forest where the trees grew perpendicular to the slanted ground and fought for the meager sunlight.
There were eagles and hawks, goats and hares, and sparse growth that included spindly bushes, short, sharp-bladed grass, and a few flowers of pink, yellow, or blue.
By the time she’d followed the cat for nearly an hour, Marina was out of breath and feeling lightheaded. She’d taken her dose of altitude sickness medication, but even that couldn’t alleviate every symptom. The cat didn’t seem to notice or care that Marina wasn’t four-footed with large, stable paws—he kept walking.
The forest gave way to another mountainside, and when Snow Leopard headed toward the nearest rocky outcropping, Marina sighed but kept going.
She had to be several miles from the village—from any sort of civilization. She’d seen nothing to indicate that any creature other than the four-legged or winged ones had been this way, other than the very crude, barely discernible path on which the great cat walked so nimbly.
A few yards later, her guide stopped to drink from a small stream tumbling down the mountainside. Marina took the opportunity to sit on the nearest boulder and drink from her own water bottle, which was carabined to her belt loop.
Snow Leopard didn’t seem to mind that she was taking a break, and so Marina pulled out her phone. She realized she hadn’t updated her companions on this new development—and sure enough, there were more messages and missed calls.
She sent a brief text explaining what she could, then looked up to see Snow Leopard watching her.
He was definitely eyeing her mobile phone, and there was a distinct sneer in his expression—the sort only felines could pull off.
No phones, huh? Her mouth didn’t move, but she heard the words as if she’d spoken them aloud.
No.
She hesitated, then powered down her phone. All at once, she felt different. Lighter. Her head was clearer.
There was no longer any sort of impure vibration or energy emitting from the electronic device in her pocket.
Yes. The cat gave her what could only be described as a smile. And then he began to walk on.
Marina smothered a groan, but she followed him. She was in excellent shape, but this was beyond challenging even for her—especially since she didn’t have any equipment to help with the climbing walk.
But her footsteps were definitely lighter, and she became even more aware of the world around her. There was more color, more sound, more texture…the scents of flowers and water and loam…
And suddenly there was Lev.
Grandfather.
Mariska. You’ve come.
He was, as always, sitting beneath a tree, cupped by large roots that created the arms of a chair for him, and a moss-covered mound beneath. The leaves of this tree were nothing like the other trees she’d seen on the mountainside; these were all the colors of the rainbow, and they danced in a pleasant breeze.
Snow Leopard had gone; Marina understood he had merely been her guide. Though the cat had disappeared, she thanked him as she walked closer to her grandfather.
And that was when she realized Lev was not alone.
Three other people sat there as well, each beneath their own tree. There shouldn’t have been room for all of those massive trees so close together, but somehow, like the pieces of a kaleidoscope picture, they merged and connected together while remaining distinct.
Marina felt the energy of them all as if it were a blow to her body: solid, strong, vibrational, pure.
Having never found reason to praise or worship any entity—other than Gaia, and even what she felt for Mother Earth wasn’t what she would call worship—Marina felt her knees wobble. She understood here, now, how people felt when they were in the presence of those known as Enlightened Ones.
And without being told, she knew all of those who s
at with her grandfather.
Jesus of Nazareth.
Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha.
Mohammed.
She recognized them all, knew their names without being told. Each of them, with their dark skin and dark hair, each of different age, shimmered with light. And then she saw others, countless others, in the background, hovering near and above and around this quartet, extending to infinity, each with their own tree—each with their connection to Gaia and to each other through their sacredness.
No one spoke, but the four of them—the ones she thought of as the Great Ones—looked at her with kind, knowing eyes. She felt the force of their combined energy and…the only word that made sense was holiness.
Sacredness.
She stood there, simply absorbing, and understood somehow that she’d done what she was meant to do…and that they, these four powerful, sacred beings—and the other, less distinct ones—were acknowledging that.
Her vision wavered and the lights around them began to fade, and they, too, began to fade. Marina felt a whisper of movement behind her, and she turned, expecting to see Snow Leopard to lead her back, but it was Varden.
He wasn’t looking beyond her, at Lev and the others…he was looking only at her as he emerged from the forest that had somehow sprung up around them.
Mariska.
Forty-Seven
Marina opened her eyes.
She was back where she’d started, back where she’d met Gulam and where Snow Leopard had led her away—on a small ledge not far above the village.
Varden and Eli were there. Sitting, as if they’d been waiting.
“She’s returned,” said Varden as Marina blinked to clear the last of her vision.
“He said not to speak to you or touch you, not to pull you out of the journey,” Eli said, coming over to her, kneeling in front of where she still sat on that same boulder. He put gentle hands on one of her knees. “That coming out too fast can leave part of your soul there—Marina, are you all right?”
She nodded. She was. She was more than all right.
She glanced up at Varden. He was looking at her, and once again she wondered how long he’d been in her journey and what he’d seen.
This time, she didn’t feel as awkward and violated. But the intimacy still felt strange.
“Did you see them?” she asked Varden, even as she closed her hands over Eli’s.
“Who?” asked Eli as Varden shook his head.
“I saw no one but you,” he replied.
She drew in a shuddering breath, but before she could explain, Gulam appeared.
He didn’t suddenly appear as if by magic; he walked from around the tree where he’d been sitting earlier. He might have been approaching from another direction, unseen, or he might have materialized from nowhere. She didn’t know, and it didn’t matter.
Manish was with him, but it was the elderly man who drew her attention. His eyes were lit with what could only be described as fire—power, determination—and she felt the vibration of energy rolling from his slender, fragile body.
“I will take you to the bee,” he said. Marina realized that he spoke to her in Skaladeska—a language she never remembered learning, but one that had somehow been implanted in her mind.
“Thank you,” she replied in the same language, realizing also that this was a show of gratitude from Gulam and his people.
Gulam looked at Varden and Eli, and Marina understood he was asking whether they were to accompany them. Or perhaps he was indicating that they were not invited.
But Marina couldn’t do that to Eli—or to Varden. “They are my trusted friends, and I would not have known what was happening to your land and your people without them.”
Gulam closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he gave her a single nod.
She turned to Varden and Eli, who’d watched silently. Varden would have understood the conversation in Skaladeska, of course, but Eli would not.
“He will take us to the bee,” she said, and was rewarded by the blast of excitement in Eli’s expression.
He gave a reverent bow to the shaman and thanked him in English.
“Tomorrow. Today, we celebrate,” Gulam said, gesturing off to the village and gompa.
The sounds of drumming and chanting had already begun once more.
Despite the Tsedup festival being interrupted by Gulam and his call to action—which had obviously put an end to Allen Schleuter’s intent to sign contracts with Lobzang Nomgyal and divert the glacier ice melt—the attendees and performers seemed to have had no problem picking up where they’d left off.
In fact, Eli thought, it appeared as if the revelers would have an even stronger reason for celebrating now that good had conquered evil once more on this very day.
He and Marina stood off to the side with the festival-goers and watched the dancing and drumming. Varden had gone off somewhere, which was fine with Eli. The man was pretty intense.
But a little while after he disappeared, Varden was back. “The water CEO is gone,” he told them. “I talked to Manish. Schlueter took off when everything went bad and hired someone to drive him back to Leh.”
Marina nodded and frowned. “But Hedron is still here. I’m sure he is.” She shrugged when Eli looked at her. “It’s just a feeling I have. And he still has the Volvoticus bacteria…as far as we know.”
“I think you’re right. He could still try to destroy the dam.” Varden looked up and around. “Or something else around here—just to make a statement.”
“He wants to damage—even destroy—the ecosystem of this region,” Marina said. “It’s a unique, powerful center of energy. By disrupting or destroying the area or those who live here, he hurts Gaia—and Lev as well, because he’s connected here. Everything is tied together…just as we all are. From the beginning, Lev told me to protect the bee. Protect the sacred. This place—this entire place—is a center of sacredness.”
“We’ll have to keep watch for him,” Eli said, scanning the crowd.
“Unless he finds us first,” replied Varden.
And, Eli realized suddenly, if Hedron learned that Marina had been the one to spoil his plans by telling the shaman, he would definitely be looking for Marina—and for revenge. Eli edged a little closer to her.
His attention remained divided between the wildly garbed dancers and watching the crowd for signs of Hedron as the people pressed into each other along the edges of the street.
The costumes worn by the monks were large and complicated—some as wide as they were tall, and some with extra height so that the masks hovered and danced ten feet above the crowd. Lots of flowing sleeves, tunics, and headdresses. Lots of color and a whirlwind of activity.
Lots of noise: drumming, chanting, singing, shouting.
It was a crazy and wonderful experience—far better than the wild, energetic Mardi Gras parade Eli had once attended, or any concert-palooza he could imagine.
Maybe it was because he couldn’t understand anything they were singing or chanting. Maybe it was the way the beat of the drums reverberated through his center, as if he were part of the rhythmic music. Maybe it was the place—being here, in this sacred, special area, with a people who lived close to the ruggedness of the earth and celebrated the simple things.
He didn’t know; he just understood that he’d become part of the festival in some primitive way.
Eli didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, engrossed in the festivities, when Marina suddenly tensed next to him.
“Hedron,” she said, gripping his arm. “There.”
She didn’t point, obviously not wanting to make a scene, but both Varden and Eli heard her and began to follow her as she slipped through the crowd.
It was slow going, pushing through the throng of people. Marina led the way, but she soon lost sight of Hedron.
Still, she kept going until they were free of the pack, and on a slightly higher elevation. Just a short way up the side of a small, rocky hill,
which gave a good view of the colorful dancers and those gathered to watch and participate.
Varden came to close to her, his attention sharp as he scanned the area. “Lost him, have we?”
She nodded, but the back of her neck prickled. He was nearby; she could feel the animosity, the intensity of Hedron’s attention on her. Directed at her. The fact that they were both Skaladeska made it easier for her to sense the loathing and hatred he felt for her.
A rock skittered from somewhere above, landing on the ground next to her. They all looked up to see Hedron, who stood several yards above. He was watching them, hands on his hips, fury in his eyes.
Wordlessly, Marina took off after him. Varden shouted something—he wanted her to stop, to wait—but she didn’t listen. Hedron was not going to get away from her now. Not today.
She scrambled up the side of the mountain, following the rough, patchy barely-a-path as it twisted and turned around and up.
Varden and Eli were behind her, the former right on her tail.
She caught sight of Hedron up another ten yards, heading around a large outcropping of rock, climbing ever higher. What was he doing? There was nowhere to go but up. What was he going to do?
And then she saw it, as she came around a curve to yet another rise in the path: a large iron grid that had been built into the side of the mountain to keep the unstable, rocky wall from tumbling down.
“No,” she shouted, scrambling faster, looking behind to see whether Varden and Eli had noticed it too. “Stop!”
Once Hedron applied the Volvoticus bacteria to the grid—even a small area of it—the cause would be lost. The grid would disintegrate and the mountain wall would collapse, crashing down onto the celebrating people below.
Hedron stood on the ledge, watching her as she and her companions struggled to make their way to his level before it was too late…
With a sly smile, he unslung from his shoulders the backpack he’d been wearing. From her angle below, she couldn’t see exactly what he was doing as he let the bag settle on the ground, but she had a feeling she knew.
Sanskrit Cipher: A Marina Alexander Adventure Page 30