Rumi's Riddle

by Eliot Schrefer

  “Yeah,” Mez says, approaching the shimmering boundary and dipping a paw in, then holding it up to her face and licking it. “I can’t see a thing through this.”

  “Right, sorry,” Banu says. The dome disappears, leaving just a ring of wet earth.

  “Can you conjure it back up quickly?” Rumi asks.

  “Yes,” Banu explains. “I create it from . . . the water vapor in the air.” The dome is instantly back.

  “Okay!” Gogi says. “Apparently this will work. We’ll move forward with Banu in the center, and he’ll throw up the water shield if there’s a blast of heat.”

  “As long as . . . you’re willing . . . to move at a sloth’s pace.”

  “Can we make it the fastest sloth’s pace that you can manage?” Mez asks. She tries to smile patiently, but it just displays her long canines. Banu’s eyes widen in fear.

  “So, can you give me a long water tail?” Lima asks. “Or a water beard? Or, like, a bunch of dewdrops all over my belly that sparkle whenever I move?”

  “Not now, Lima,” Mez says. “Save the body decorating for when the future of Caldera isn’t at stake.”

  “Fine.” Lima sighs.

  “To . . . the volcano!” Banu says.

  “Let’s do this,” Mez says, already starting along the path.

  As he hops along, Rumi stares up at the column of black smoke. The volcano isn’t actively erupting at the moment, but he’s kept up his counting during his conversation with his friends. It appears that each explosion can be estimated by n + 455, where n represents the time in seconds of the last explosion. Which means that the next explosion should be—

  Rumi sees the blast rocketing toward them, certain death bearing down, faster than a swooping eagle. “Banu, shield now!” he cries.

  The startled sloth barely has time to raise an eyebrow before the cascade of hot air is upon them, stronger than ever before, laced through with ferocious plumes of smoke and burning embers. Rumi cringes away, but then the hot wind poofs. Banu’s raised the water shield, and just in time. With a pop and a crack, the water turns to steam, deflecting the deadly heat up into the air.

  Banu scrunches his eyes shut as he increases the thickness of the water shield, pushing against more and more of the ashy volcanic blast. The companions huddle around him, Gogi tucking Lima and Rumi under his chin to keep the most fragile shadowwalkers safe.

  “Banu, how long can you keep this up?” Rumi asks. But Banu can’t spare any attention, all his energy focused on maintaining the watery barrier. The fizzing and sizzling finally quiet, though, and Rumi gives the sloth a tap on the head. “I think we’re good for now.”

  Banu lets the water shield drop. They’re surrounded by a ring of healthy wet jungle, but outside the circular boundary, the trees are charred and smoking. The air is clogged with ash. “Wow,” Chumba says, covering her mouth with a paw. “A volcano is no joke.”

  “It’s not even in full eruption mode,” Rumi says. “This is really just premonitions of future activity.”

  “I’d rather not see that up close,” Chumba says.

  “Yes,” Sky says gravely. “That’s why we’re doing all this. To stop anyone from seeing the eruption up close.”

  “Banu, could you move us a few dozen panther-lengths toward the volcano? I think I see something I recognize.”

  They all move as one awkward, nervous lump, everyone pressed as tight as they can to Banu, so they’re safe if the volcano sends out another blast.

  “Right here,” Mez says, sniffing around the ground. “Does anyone else remember this spot?”

  Gogi turns around. “Can’t say I do. Looks like . . . jungle to me.”

  “Not even the best sort of jungle,” Lima says.

  “This is where we came out after we went beneath the ziggurat, long ago, and first saw the Ant Queen in her prison. This is where we escaped!” Mez says.

  “So it is!” Rumi exclaims. He runs his fingers through the silky soil. “This is the exact texture of the earth at that spot. Most impressive memory, Mez.”

  “You think that maybe we can get back down beneath from here?” Sky asks.

  “It caved in while we escaped,” Mez says. “At the time it looked like a fresh wound in the earth, but it’s been a long time now, and the jungle has taken it back over. Just like it’s grown over the ziggurat ruins. But if we could move this soil, then we could get back down beneath, and maybe see what we could do about blocking the magma flow heading into the volcano.”

  “Does anyone believe this is actually going to work?” Gogi asks.

  “Of course it will!” Lima says. “We’ll, um, create a cave-in! Easy-peasy.”

  “Yes, something like that,” Sky says, nodding.

  Chumba, always the most decisive among them, starts digging into the grassy earth with her front paw. “Chumba,” Mez says, “that will take forever.”

  Rumi glances at Sky. “This is why we resurrected Auriel, anyway. Because he has powers over the earth.”

  “Who, this hefty little guy?” Gogi asks, holding up the length of yellow snake. Somehow, Auriel seems to have grown even more over the last few hours. He’s about as long as the capuchin is from head to tail, now, and probably the same weight.

  Auriel stares at them.

  “In his old form, Auriel absorbed the powers of some of the eclipse-born animals, and one of those was Niko the catfish, may he rest in peace,” Sky says. “Niko had the power to move earth. Auriel might still have that potential now.”

  “Auriel,” Lima commands, waving her wing, “open up the earth!”

  “I don’t think it’ll be that easy,” Gogi says gently.

  Auriel slinks down from Gogi’s arms and passes through the grass. He comes to a raw patch of ashy earth and pauses. He noses the soil. Then, without warning, he disappears.

  “What the what?” Gogi asks, scrambling after Auriel. “Where did he just go?”

  The ground around them begins to quake. Mez and Chumba and Gogi streak up the nearest tree, and Rumi jumps to Sky’s back as he and Lima take to the air. Banu makes it to the nearest trunk and clutches it with his curved claws.

  While they watch, the ground funnels down, pouring like water. It continues to rumble and fall, passing into a void below, until it slows and stops.

  When the dust settles, Rumi sees that a tunnel has appeared, going only a short way before falling into absolute darkness.

  “We’re not really going to go in there, are we?” Gogi asks.

  “Apparently we are, if Auriel has anything to say about it,” Mez says, pointing her ear at the tunnel.

  There’s a streaking yellow glow, and then Auriel appears, staring at them impassively. He turns around and sidles into the tunnel. His glowing scales illuminate the ragged earth all around, but already the tunnel entrance is darkening as Auriel slithers farther and farther away.

  “We should follow before he gets too far. His scales illuminate the passage, which is pretty handy,” Rumi says.

  “Unless he means to simply collapse it once we’re all inside,” Mez says. “It would be a brilliant way to do us all in. He wouldn’t even have to worry about separate burials.”

  “Wow, that was super dark, Mez,” Gogi says.

  “This new Auriel of Light destroyed the Ant Queen, and saved all of Caldera,” Sky sniffs. “I think we can assume he means well.”

  “You’ve always had a soft spot for that boa constrictor,” Mez growls.

  “No time for bickering. He’s slipping away. If we mean to use the benefit of his light, we have to move now!” Rumi says. Just what does Auriel have in mind?

  Lima decides it for them. She arrows after Auriel. “Thank you!” she calls. “You were so obedient. What a well-behaved little snake. Or medium-sized snake now, I guess. Oh, wow, this tunnel is amazing. Wait up!”

  Her voice fades as she flits away.

  “Here goes,” Mez says. She and then Chumba creep into the tunnel, followed by Gogi, who fires up the tip of his t
ail to provide extra illumination. Sky and Rumi take the rear.

  “I’ll wait for you guys out here!” Banu calls, cupping his clawed hands around his mouth. “I’m not so good at dodging lava flows.”

  “Okay, we’ll miss your water magic, but safety first!” Rumi calls back, then settles into Sky’s wingpit. It’s not such a bad way to travel, really.

  “I wish there was a place we could have studied more on how to stop a volcano,” Rumi says. “The ziggurat carvings had a lot of information from the two-leg civilization locked into them, but none of those dealt with the eruption itself.”

  “Hold quiet for a moment,” Sky squawks. He cocks his head, listening.

  Unfortunately, though, up ahead, Lima is maintaining her one-way conversation with Auriel. Sky’s eyes flash with irritation.

  “Do you hear something?” Rumi asks, dropping from Sky’s wingpit and hopping along the tunnelway.

  “Hard to tell under Lima’s chatter, but it sounds like . . . singing,” Sky says.

  “Singing! How unexpected.”

  Lima pauses up ahead. “Anyone else hear that song?”

  “Even when she’s blabbering,” Rumi says, “Lima’s got the best hearing of all of us.”

  “There’s singing . . . and steam,” Mez’s voice reports. “Lots of steam. Rumi, I’m worried about your skin down here.”

  “Me too,” Rumi says. “Thanks, Mez. Sky?”

  “Come right in,” Sky says. He lifts his wing and clicks his beak. Rumi hops underneath, and it closes around him. It means missing out on what the companions are seeing, but he’s decided he’d rather not be a steamed frog. He wasn’t able to make out a great deal of his surroundings in the yellow shadows of Gogi’s and Auriel’s reflected light, anyway.

  Sky’s feathers rustle as he continues along the darkened passageway, the noise joining the click of his claws along the stone floor. Hearing the sounds of Sky’s awkward walk through the vibrations of his very bones and feathers makes Rumi feel close to his friend.

  “Would you look at this?” Mez says up ahead. “Everyone move carefully, the path drops off quickly from here.”

  Before Rumi can ask him to, Sky narrates what he sees. “We’re at the edge of a rocky face, looking down to an empty gap.”

  “It’s where the Ant Queen’s prison was, if you remember,” Mez adds.

  “Oh, I remember,” Rumi says, but he has no idea if his words come through the barrier of Sky’s feathers.

  “I don’t think there’s any way for the non-flyers among us to get below,” Sky continues. “Not that I think any of us would want to. There’s magma down there.”

  “And the singing,” Rumi says. “It’s louder. Can you make out the words, Lima?”

  “I’ll go check,” Lima says, her voice already fading as she flies off.

  Rumi risks poking his head out to look around. It’s brighter than he thought it would be, the cavern walls glittering. He cranes his head to see down, and finds a river of molten orange snaking far beneath. It’s a thousand frog-lengths off, but still the heat rising from it is almost unbearable. He lets out some breeze from his mouth, only as much as he’s able to produce with his limited magic, just enough to keep the air moving. “Magma,” he whispers. “We’re seeing magma in person. Like we saw depicted in the carvings in the Cave of Riddles.”

  “You sound almost excited,” Sky says.

  “I suppose I am. Scared, too, but this is not something that a tree frog like me ever expected to see in his life. My knowledge expands a lot today.”

  “There’s only one of you in this world, you know that?” Sky says.

  “Yes, and perhaps it’s for the best,” Rumi says, sighing.

  “I don’t know about that. But I’m glad I get to know you.” Rumi’s eyes water unexpectedly. Praise from someone like Gogi is lovely whenever it happens. From someone like Sky, it’s a rarer jewel altogether.

  “Thank you,” Rumi says as he ducks his head away, back under Sky’s protection.

  Before Sky can respond, Lima’s voice comes trilling through the cavern. “I know who’s singing, and you guys aren’t going to like it one bit. It’s ants.”

  “I’M GOING TO get closer to see if I can hear their weirdo ant words better,” Lima says.

  Before any of them can stop her, she’s flitting through the ruddy light.

  “Lima, come back! It’s too dangerous,” Gogi calls. He’s wrapped his tail around an outcropping in the rock, and lowers himself down, hands flailing for Lima.

  She’s out of reach, though. “Lima, be careful,” Mez whispers, extending and retracting her claws against the stone floor.

  It’s not too long, though, before Lima’s back, landing on Gogi’s open palm. Sweat mats the black fur on her face, and her skin is red. “Are you okay?” Chumba asks.

  “Shh, shh, I’m trying to remember the song. Memory is hard for bats.” She taps her forehead, then looks at her sweat-covered wing. “You’re right, I’m soaked. Anyway, what are the words, what are the words? Oh I remember. ‘We are the six-legged poops!’ No, that can’t be it!”

  Lima heads back to the edge, preparing to dive back toward the magma and the ant song.

  “No, stop. Gogi, grab her!” Mez cries. Gogi whips out with his tail and captures Lima right as she takes off. He reels the startled bat back in, placing her on the stone.

  “Did you really just do that to me?” she cries.

  “Shh, Lima, I have another idea,” Mez says. “Follow me. We all can listen, and that way we don’t have to depend on bat memory.”

  Mez pads back from the edge, then uses an outcropping as a stepping-stone to descend. She skirts a narrow ledge, and then descends again. “The way is clear, but Chumba, you might want to wait—”

  With a few short steps, Chumba is right behind her sister. “—never mind,” Mez finishes.

  With Rumi holding firmly on to Sky’s armpit feathers, the macaw picks his way down the sheer face of stone, using his beak and claws. Gogi takes up the rear. “Okay, all here,” Sky says.

  Rumi maneuvers from under Sky’s wing so that his head is exposed and his ear has unfettered access to the song rising from below. The dry, blasting heat wrinkles his face, but it’s worth the pain to hear the song for himself.

  Once he can hear the words, he starts fear-chirping.

  We have a queen no more

  . . . though we lived with her imprisoned for more years

  . . . than there were bricks in the ziggurat.

  Even without a queen, we are

  the most powerful animals in the rainforest.

  We needed her to set our mission,

  to remind us of the wondrous beginnings of Caldera

  [ . . . of Earth.]

  Of a time when there were only ants and plants

  And there was no such thing as strife

  Or murder

  [ . . . or vertebrae.]

  Our dead queen left us a blunter plan,

  to burrow beneath the surface of Caldera

  [Where there are natural forces more powerful than any animal.]

  Only rock separates magma

  from tender animal.

  A shallow barrier that trillions of mandibles

  can break.

  “‘Earth,’” Rumi says, savoring the unusual word. “What do you suppose ‘Earth’ means?”

  “Definitions don’t seem our most important concern at the moment,” Sky says.

  “Definitions can be crucially important,” Rumi huffs.

  “Yeah, especially when that ‘erupt’ thing is the ants’ master plan for destroying us all!” Gogi frets.

  “So wait, they’re speeding up the eruption?” Lima asks.

  “Yes, in a blunt way,” Sky says, peering down.

  “What does that mean, ‘blunt’?” Chumba asks. “I can’t see anything but magma down there.”

  “Sorry, I forgot bird eyes can see farther,” Sky says. “There’s a stream of ants at the edge of the rock, us
ing their mandibles to burrow through. It’s slow work, but they’re gradually eroding the rock into the magma flow. They’re incinerating themselves in the process.”

  Rumi cranes his neck out, trying to see, but there are too many red flight feathers in the way.

  “There will always be more ants,” Gogi says.

  “So what do we do?” Lima chirps. “By the way, are you guys thirsty? Whew, I could drink a lake right now.”

  “Lima makes a good point—we shouldn’t stay here much longer,” Mez pants. “Rumi, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Rumi says, running his fingers over the skin of his head. It feels waxy, and a headache is blooming behind his eyes. “I think that, once all of this is over, I will do a study of the songs of the ants. They have a most unusual structure, and breaking down how they function might give us clues to the phenomenology of what it is like to be an insect. Given their single voice, it seems like it’s almost more apt to call the whole colony a singular organism with satellite parts, instead of individual animals.”

  “Sure, okay, buddy,” Gogi says. “In the meantime, though, do you have any ideas about how we can stop the ants from burrowing into the earth and releasing more magma?”

  “Sadly, no,” Rumi says. “Back when there was a queen, there was someone specific for us to rail against. It’s like her intelligence has simply been distributed among her minions. But ants outnumber and outweigh us. There’s no hope of our defeating them. There was some hope when it was just magma we were fighting against. But now, the only course I can devise is to find some way to escape.”

  “Escape Caldera?” Gogi asks. “How can we do that, when Caldera is all that there is?”

  “That’s simply not true,” Rumi says. “Sky and I saw the edge, and you saw it with us. Caldera is surrounded by water. Perhaps, on the other side of the water, there is more land.”

  Lima lets out a low whistle. “Abandon home? You’re blowing my mind here.”

  Heat flashes up from below. “Guys,” Chumba pants, “I think we need to get out of here. I’m overheating.”

  “Let’s get a move on,” Mez says. “We’ll talk more about this crazy idea of yours once we get to the surface, Rumi.”