Rumi's Riddle

by Eliot Schrefer

  “Oh, I understand,” Sky says. “I’ve felt that plenty of times. Say, do you think those birds there would be friendly? I’ve never known little orange songbirds to be anything but friendly, and they’re also always full of gossip.”

  “I’ll hide under your wing,” Rumi says. “We don’t want them to panic, seeing a nightwalker during the day.”

  Rumi nestles into Sky’s armpit as the macaw lands in the treetop. Birds do have a musty scent by the base of their feathers, but at least they don’t have the body odor problems that mammals do. Still, he’ll be holding his breath as much as he can.

  “Hail,” Sky says to the songbirds. “How go the skies?”

  “Well met,” sing the birds as Sky lands beside them. “The breezes are predictable today.”

  “May they ever be,” Sky responds.

  Rumi will have to remember to ask Sky more about this formal language later. There are always new bird manners to learn.

  Increasingly frantic bird jibber jabber. The songbirds get more and more excited as they speak, their voices getting so high-pitched that it’s hard for Rumi’s frog ears to understand them.

  “Raise a feather to me, and give me a claw,” Sky says, waggling his tail, turning in a half circle, and turning back around. “By the plumes of my underside, I will tell you that I’m heading toward the black smoke. Do you know what currents the air that meets me might contain?”

  The songbirds cheep shrilly. “Don’t do that!” exclaim the birds. “No, no, don’t do that! We suggest you don’t. Please go the other way.” Like Calisto, the shadowwalker trogon the companions once knew, it seems that songbirds never know quite how to finish making a point.

  “I understand it’s dangerous, but I don’t have any other choice,” Sky says. “If I must go, do you have any advice?”

  “Do not fly. Walk if you must. The winds are hot. Avoid the Elemental of Darkness. Flying is the best way to avoid it. But don’t fly. Only if you have to. Better to walk. Unless the Elemental of Darkness is there. Then fly. But it’s too hot to fly.”

  Rumi’s head hurts. He can’t even tell which songbird is saying what. He wishes Sky would ask them to speak one at a time, but apparently Sky has no trouble understanding the many birds talking over one another. He is a macaw, after all. They’re the loudest and talk-over-one-another-iest of them all.

  “The Elemental of Darkness,” Sky manages to get in. “What’s that? I’ve never heard of it.”

  “We have not seen it. I have seen it. No you didn’t, that was a rock. Was not! It’s worse than the Ant Queen. It’s not real at all. It’s magical. It’s just a normal animal. You can find it in the treetops. But it lives on the ground. The nightwalkers worship it. It eats daywalkers. If it’s real. It might not be real. We think it’s real.”

  Rumi’s headache spreads.

  The songbirds suddenly fly off. Rumi pokes his head out from under Sky’s pungent wingpit. “Wow. They didn’t even say good-bye.”

  Sky clacks his beak, his version of a shrug. “I’m used to not getting good-byes.”

  “I’m not,” Rumi says hotly, upset more for his friend’s sake than his own. “It’s rude of them.”

  “It doesn’t matter what we think,” Sky says mournfully. “What matters is how they decide to treat us. In any case—this Elemental of Darkness. Do you think it could be what’s causing the volcano to threaten to erupt?”

  “It’s possible,” Rumi says darkly. “As if a volcano weren’t already danger enough.”

  “ONE MORE NIGHT’S journey, and that should be it,” Mez says as the Veil begins to lift. She plops into a thatch of jungle grass, exhausted.

  “And four more drops of the Veil until the volcano goes off,” Rumi adds.

  “So, brain squad,” Gogi says, draping his body over Mez’s, stretching out his long arms and legs, “you come up with any great plans over the course of the night?”

  Sky looks to Rumi, then clacks his beak. “By the end of the next night, we’ll be at the volcano’s opening, and then we’ll, we’ll face this Elemental of Darkness if we have to, and then we’ll . . . collapse the volcano!”

  “Collapse it how?” Chumba asks, yawning despite a loud rumble that shakes the earth.

  “Won’t the volcano just melt whatever we try to block it up with?” Lima asks.

  “And if the source of the problem is the magma you told us about,” Mez presses, “what’s to prevent it from just erupting out somewhere else?”

  “Like when you squeeze a bug,” Lima says sagely. “It might goop out one end or the other, but it’s going to goop out somewhere.”

  They all stare at her.

  “What?” she asks. “Haven’t you guys ever squeezed the goop out of a bug before?”

  It reminds Rumi of the fish-egg diagram he saw in the carvings in the Cave of Riddles. But what did it mean? “Anyway, we’re still working out the particulars,” Rumi says. “Don’t worry, we’ll come up with something by the time we arrive.”

  “You don’t have much time,” Mez says.

  “How do you even fight an Elemental of Darkness?” Gogi asks.

  While Chumba falls asleep, Sky looks at Rumi questioningly, then whisper-caws to clear his throat. “So, should we continue with our story of the Cave of Riddles?”

  “Oh, there’s no need,” Rumi says. “We told them all the important information. Don’t you think?”

  Sky gives Rumi a meaningful look, turning his head almost fully sideways as he does, clacking his beak. No, we didn’t.

  Rumi coughs. “Okay, I—”

  He breaks off. A branch snaps, not far off through the jungle growth. The companions go still, Mez low on her paws, teeth bared.

  “Oh, that’s just our daywalker groupies,” Lima says. “They leapfrog ahead of us during the day, then camp out waiting for us to arrive during the night. They’re probably just waking up again.”

  “I’m sorry, what did you say? Daywalker groupies?” Sky asks.

  “Didn’t you notice? The songbirds are sticking near, and the turtles have been following along behind ever since we met them. There’s some monkeys and a tapir or two also.”

  Mez’s ears perk. “Don’t you think this is information you should have shared?”

  “Sorry!” Lima says. “I don’t think they mean any harm. It seems like they want to be near Auriel. Sort of like how flying bugs get attracted to anything that’s glowing bright.”

  “The compulsion of these daywalkers to be near Auriel must be strong indeed,” Rumi says, “since following him also means heading toward the source of the explosions.”

  “Yeah,” Gogi says. “This dry wind is starting to freak me out.” The capuchin monkey dabs his sweaty brows. Increasingly, each rumble of the ever-closer volcano comes along with an uncomfortably hot breeze. “I know I wouldn’t get any closer to the volcano if you all weren’t making me. Tell you what, I’ll go talk to them. Where do we think they are?”

  “I’ll go with you,” Lima says cheerfully. “I’m too worked up about our inevitable doom to sleep much, anyway.”

  Monkey and bat head off into the dawn. Mez lowers her head and flicks her ears. “Once Chumba’s awake again, you will tell us the rest of what went down in the Cave of Riddles, Rumi,” she says.

  “Yes, of course, Mez,” Rumi says. He watches Mez’s flanks slow into steady sleep breathing. “Darn,” he whispers to Sky. “I was hoping everyone would have forgotten.”

  “You should be looking forward to telling them,” Sky says. “It will be a relief to get it off your chest.”

  Rumi shakes his head. “It’s so awful. They won’t even be able to look at me once they know the truth.”

  Sky holds out a claw and Rumi takes up his customary rest position, draped over the macaw’s hard black talons. Sky pulls his claw back a little, so Rumi is snuggled under his feathers. “I was able to look at you after I found out,” Sky says softly.

  “Yes, but you’re special that way,” Rumi says. He closes hi
s eyes, enjoying the feel of his friend’s smooth feathers against his back. For the first time in a while, he catches a little sleep.

  “It’s confirmed. Our daywalker followers are here to be near Auriel,” Gogi reports at the next Veil dropping, while they rouse Chumba. “They were asking if I would bring them here to see the Elemental of Light in person. I told them I didn’t know, of course. Last thing we need is a bunch of Auriel groupies following us around. They’re going about Banu’s speed, though, so they’ll probably fall behind over this night. Banu is catching a ride on one of the turtles, by the way. He says hi!”

  “At least we’ll get a head start every time the Veil drops,” Mez says as she licks the fur between her sister’s ears.

  “I can’t imagine that any groupies who’ve come to visit Auriel would want to travel all the way to the edge of the volcano,” Rumi says.

  “I don’t know, hope is a powerful motivator,” Sky says. “Even while they’re asleep, I can sense great personal sacrifice from these daywalkers. If the existence of Auriel is making them think there’s a chance we’ll be able to stop the eruption, then maybe it’s worth life and wing to see it through for themselves. Heroism isn’t limited to us shadowwalkers.”

  “Fair enough,” Gogi says, patting a sleeping parakeet on the head as he moves past it. “I’m not sure how any random daywalkers can help, but we clearly could use all the assistance we can get.”

  “We’re already risking our own necks to investigate the explosions,” Mez says. “I hate to see other animals dragged into it.”

  “I’m with you,” says Chumba as they pick their way along. “Let’s make sure we reach the volcano by the end of this nighttime, so for their own safety’s sake these sleeping pilgrims won’t have time to catch up.”

  “I think it’s all pretty fantastic,” Lima chirps from above. “How many animals get followers? I know they’re here for Auriel, not for us, but still we can pretend they’re here for Lima the Healing Bat, am I right?”

  “Ooh!” Gogi says. “Sing the song again!”

  “Liiiima, the Healing Bat! Ferocious-er than a piranha! Scarier than a cat!”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Scarier than a cat?” Mez says. “What’s so scary about a cat?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Gogi asks. “Have you noticed your claws lately?”

  Mez extends and retracts the claws of her front paw, then nods. “Okay, I guess I could see how that’s pretty scary.”

  “Not to mention the teeth,” Rumi adds. If he keeps his friends on the topic of teeth and daywalker followers, they might not remember to ask him about his worst memory. Even though he knows he should want to tell them.

  “We really have to come up with a second stanza for your song,” Gogi says to Lima.

  “Let me help,” Sky offers.

  “You?” Mez scoffs.

  “Why, don’t think I have any lyrical skills in me?”

  “I don’t, actually.”

  “I’ll look forward to proving you wrong,” Sky says. “Macaws are very good at songwriting.”

  “Are you for real right now?” Gogi asks.

  “Want me to help you?” Rumi whispers in his ear.

  “Yes, please,” Sky caw-whispers back. “I’m not sure that macaws really are that good at songwriting. I just want to be helpful for something more than magical divination.”

  “I get it,” Rumi whispers back. “We’ll come up with something good, don’t worry.”

  Rumi starts trying to think of words that rhyme with Lima. It’s very hard! Schema? Team-a? But it’s a helpful place to put his brain, instead of an imminent volcanic explosion.

  All thoughts of rhyming Lima’s name vanish from his mind, though, when a rumble from up ahead sets the ground quaking. The companions race into the foliage, huddling under fronds and ferns as a boom shudders the ground, followed by a blast of hot air. It wobbles Rumi’s vision, sets his skin pricking and sizzling. “Ow, ow, ow,” he says, burrowing deep into Sky’s flight feathers.

  “You okay there, friend?” Sky asks.

  “Yes . . . it’s really hot on amphibian skin.”

  The companions creep out of their shelter and look toward the black plumes ahead. Where the ground rises toward the volcanic center of Caldera, the black plumes of smoke are ridged in sparks of flame, orange rising within the whorls of black.

  “We’re just seeing the inklings of what’s to come. If the volcano actually explodes when we’re nearer to it . . .” Rumi says.

  “You’re right,” Mez says, nose wrinkling at the waves of heat. “We’re foolish to charge right into danger.”

  “Thank you!” Gogi says. “I’m linked with fire through my magic, and even I can’t believe we’re heading right for that disaster.”

  “Interesting,” Lima says. “I know you can make fire appear, Gogi, but can you make it go away?”

  “Huh!” Gogi says, scratching his belly. “I’ve never tried.”

  “That’s promising,” Rumi says. “Let’s explore it. And that’s got me thinking—what about Banu? If he were here, we could also try using his water shield to protect us.”

  “He’s probably resting with the daywalker pilgrims,” Mez says. “We could go fetch him and get him to catch up.”

  “It will slow us down a little, I know,” Sky says. “But we won’t do Caldera any good if we’ve all been incinerated.”

  “Raise your hand if you want to be incinerated,” Gogi says.

  They’re all motionless, except for Lima, who raises a wing. She looks at them all, confused, then puts her wing back down. “I think maybe I don’t know what ‘incinerated’ means,” she whispers.

  “Okay, that decides it,” Mez says. “Go get Banu. Hurry!”

  Gogi untwines Auriel from around his neck. “Should I go? Can someone else hold on to Auriel if I do?”

  If Auriel understands what Gogi is saying, he makes no sign of it. He tilts his head from side to side, looking about the clearing. Rumi hasn’t seen him eat anything, but he’s growing an inch a night, at least. Maybe he’s absorbing the volcanic energies, or the sunshine itself? Or he’s absorbing carbon from the air and turning it solid, the way that trees do?

  “I think Lima and I will be faster,” Sky says.

  “You and me?” Lima asks, gulping. Then she nods. “There’s a first time for everything. Okay. We’ll get Banu here in no time. Last one there is a rotten egg. Sorry, is that offensive to a bird? Anyway, let’s race, here we go!”

  Lima takes off and Sky follows her, the two flying animals soon disappearing from view. Rumi can still hear Lima’s stream of prattle, though. “I think I can take off easier, and adjust my flight more easily, but once you get going, Sky, wow you really can move fast, and it’s like you’re not using any energy at all, while I, hold on, let me catch my breath, while I have to keep pumping my wings, can we rest yet?” Her voice fades from hearing.

  Now that Sky is gone, Rumi feels an ache that he can’t quite place.

  Gogi notices Rumi’s expression, and sits down next to his friend. “This is the first time you and Sky have been apart in a long time, isn’t it?”

  “I guess it is,” Rumi says, nodding.

  “He’ll be back soon, don’t worry,” Gogi says, picking Rumi up and tucking him in the crook of his arm.

  “Thanks, Gogi,” Rumi says. While they wait, Rumi gives up on trying to rhyme “Lima,” and instead times the rumbles, to see if he can come up with any insights there. The volcano will make a few rumbles in a row, then go silent for long periods of time. Four hundred and ten seconds, four hundred and eleven—there’s another one! If only the rumblings weren’t so horrifying, the process of counting would be soothing.

  “Hey, Rumi,” Gogi whispers, giving him a tap on the head. “You know that whatever you have to say about what came out in the Cave of Riddles, it’s going to be okay, right?”

  Rumi gulps. “Did Sky already tell you?”

  “No, of course not,” Gogi says. �
��But you’re avoiding something, and we monkeys are attuned to stuff like that.”

  “Thanks for saying that.” Rumi sighs. “I’ll tell you very soon, I promise.”

  Rumi waits for Gogi to press him further, but his friend just sits there, patting Rumi’s head. He blinks his big frog eyes against unexpected tears.

  It’s not long before Sky and Lima arrive—with Banu. The sloth sprawls out in the nighttime clearing, eyes closed and chest heaving.

  “Banu!” Gogi exclaims. “You made it!”

  Rumi claps his hands. “You brought him back so quickly!”

  “I know!” Lima exclaims, crash-landing on the ground and rolling. She gets back up to her feet, shaking her wings victoriously. “Banu’s not so slow anymore!”

  “I’ve been getting . . . faster than I thought I could . . . the fastest . . . a sloth . . . has ever . . . had to travel,” Banu pants, dramatically flinging a clawed hand over his face.

  “Banu,” Rumi says, throat pouch trembling. “You definitely deserve a chance to rest, but unfortunately we have a bit of a crisis. There are hot blasts coming from the volcano, and as we get closer, we’re worried that they could get hotter. Soon it will fully go off, too, and then we’ll really be in trouble.”

  “—and we would be some very crispy shadowwalkers,” Lima adds.

  With a great wheezing sigh, Banu sits up. “Okay . . . I think I understand . . . what do you need . . . from me?”

  “We need you to leverage your extraordinary powers to mitigate any deleterious thermal effects,” Rumi says. “Can you do that?”

  Banu blinks.

  “Did I misspeak?” Rumi asks.

  “What Rumi’s asking is: Can you make us a water shield?” Sky asks.

  “Oh!” Banu says. “All you had to do . . . is say so. Of course I can . . . happy to . . . not so hard, really.” His eyes cross for a moment, and then there’s a liquid dome surrounding the companions. Water shimmers all around them, and the starlight diffuses over the surface.

  “Wow,” Lima says, poking a wing in and out of the shield. “That is so sparkly. I love it!”

  “It’s extraordinary,” Rumi says. “But it does seem to create visibility problems.”