“Where is the mine? Is it near the kraal?”
“All day walk toward the rising sun.” Klunk worked the plants while talking.
Tovi thought of his own father, who worked on tubes and pipes that carried water into the town from the springs just outside. He was home every night. He reached for another plant. “Is he going to be back soon?” The Azyrean recalled how Klunk’s mother seemed not very happy to have him there.
Klunk briefly glanced at Tovi. “Maybe four more days, I think.” He nodded. “Yes. Four days.”
Tovi shrugged and reached for another plant. His mind drifted to dinners with his parents and Marzi. Everyone had to sit down together, and his sister was always the last to come in. Even if he was starving, she would wait around. She taunted him. She knew he was hungry and she would take her time just to make him mad. Still, he wanted to see her again. She was probably home from classes by now and getting ready to eat so she could go beam hopping. She had probably already forgotten him. His hand sought out another root.
“Ouch!” The pain shot up his arm as he jerked his hand out from around the plant. Spots of blood gathered at two holes in his index finger. He shook his hand and stared down at the leaves below him. A small brown snake slithered away.
Klunk sprang up and covered the distance to Tovi in two strides. “Let me see. Quick.” He reached out and took the hand. “It is deep. I told you. Bad bites.” He reached over and pulled the cloth off Tovi’s head, wrapping it tightly around the finger. “Lay back against the tree. I will make a mud pack.” He scrambled over to the pool, his back to the Azyrean.
Burning joined the pain. Tovi closed his eyes and leaned back. His head began spinning and colors flashed behind his eyelids. He could feel his stomach threatening to expel everything there—meat, nuts, and water. He tried to lean over to vomit but darkness overtook him.
Chapter 22: Jarek
Jarek scooted out of the log. The boots blocking his way moved aside to let him emerge. He stood, eyes never leaving the swords in the hands of his captors. Their number looked to be about ten and one of them had a bloody shoulder. The injured man leaned against a tree, holding a hand over the wound.
A tall being stepped forward, inserting his sword into the sheath hanging on his belt. “A wise choice.” He stood nearly twice Jarek’s height. His shaggy dark brown hair partially covered his relatively small ears and was swept back off his forehead. His intense brown eyes shone hard as he stared. He called over his shoulder, “Mathias, you going to be okay?”
The injured man replied with a grimace, “I’ll live.”
The leader refocused his attention on the newcomer. “And what exactly are you?” He stepped closer, looking at Jarek’s head from different angles.
The Azyrean stood upright, straightening his shirt and staring up at the tall being. “I am a beam keeper.”
One of the others in the group, standing back and to the side, quipped, “We ain’t got no bees here.” A laugh rippled through the party.
Jarek cleared this throat and spoke as forcefully as he could, “Beam keeper. I said beam, not bee.”
The leader, narrowing his eyes, queried, “And where might you keep these beams?”
Jarek rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that. What I meant was….”
“Never mind what you meant. You’re not a human, or at least not one like I’ve ever seen. You a child?”
“Of course, I’m not a child. And what’s a human?”
Another round of laughter. “Okay, if you’re not human, and you’re certainly not an ogre or an elf, then what in the blazes are you? Where did you come from?”
Another voice from the crowd chimed in, “Maybe he’s just a large rat.” Several of the group slapped their thighs as they guffawed.
Jarek took a deep breath. This had gone from bad to worse. Except, well, at least they had put away their swords. “I come from Pangrove and I’m an Azyrean, if that’s what you’re asking.” It didn’t appear that they were going to kill him, at least not for the moment. “Look here, I’m searching for two lost children. I need to find them and get them home. I assure you, I mean you no harm.”
The laughter rose to an almost feverish pitch. Even the leader, who had heretofore remained serious, smiled. “Well, little one, that’s certainly good to know.”
Jarek breathed easier. It appeared that this little confrontation was coming to a close. “Yes, well, thank you. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way.” He felt torn, though. If he left, he would be right back where he started, at least in terms of knowledge about this place and how to get home from here. But if he remained, well, he had seen the fight in the clearing and wanted no part of that. As it turned out, he needn’t have worried. He didn’t have a say in it.
“Yeah, right.” A smirk. “Let’s get moving.” The leader gave him a shove toward a deeper, darker section of the forest.
“Wait, wait. I need to find those kids.”
“You need to do exactly what I tell you to do unless you want to end up like those henchmen back in the clearing.” He shoved again.
Jarek shook his head and reluctantly shuffled in the direction in which he’d been pointed. “Can I ask where I’m being taken?”
“You can ask anything you want. You’ll have your answer when we get there.”
An anonymous voice from the group called out again. “Why not just kill him here?”
The leader smirked. “Because I don’t want to. Now let’s move.”
The group fell into a single file column. The chatter ceased and the only sound reaching Jarek’s ears were the gentle footfalls of the men and the clicking and chirping of insects and birds. He found himself pacing somewhere between a walk and a run. When he tried to slow down to catch his breath, he felt a stick or pole poke him in the back, prodding him forward.
They trekked through the forest, which grew denser and darker with each passing moment, until the canopy overhead completely obscured the sky. Still they marched on. After what seemed like hours, the leader stopped and held up his hand. The column came to a halt.
“Grab a bite and drink. We move in ten.” He sat and opened his pack. After rummaging around for a moment, he took out a package. He retrieved bread and cheese, from which he cut off chunks and handed them to Jarek. “You’ll need your strength for the afternoon’s march.” He tossed over a skin that felt as if it were full of water.
Jarek took a bite of the cheese. It was hard, crumbly, and extremely pungent. But it was good. He chewed on it, savoring the explosion of flavor in his mouth. The bread was hard but likewise seemed a feast since Jarek had not eaten since the previous afternoon. He washed it all down with a few gulps of tepid, stale-tasting water. “Thank you.” It seemed only right, after all, to show a little gratitude.
The leader shrugged. “You got a name?”
“I am Jarek Whit of Pangrove. And you, good sir?”
The laughter picked up again. “Ha. I am not a good sir, and my name is Captain Virgil.”
Jarek tried to put on his best manners. “Then I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“I’ll bet you are. You could have been the royal guest of King Wyndred right now.” Virgil nibbled on a piece of cheese and leaned back against a tree.
“Hmm.” Jarek wasn’t sure whether that would have been good or bad and his captor didn’t elaborate.
“Okay, let’s move. Everybody up.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a piece of cloth. “No offense, Jarek, but I’m going to have to blindfold you from here on.”
“But why?” Jarek had just been starting to feel a little safer.
“Because that’s the way it is. A blindfold or a sword in the chest—your choice.” As he wrapped the cloth around Jarek’s head, he added, “We’re headed out across the swamp. Go where I guide you and nowhere else. Would hate to see you sink into the mire.”
Another voice provided a counterpoint. “Bet the snakes wouldn’t mind, though.”
Jarek
began to realize that these guys laughed a lot and, for the most part, at his expense.
Chapter 23: Jarek
Jarek learned the hard way that walking blind, or blindfolded, tends to exhaust one much faster than walking while fully sighted. By the time he felt a hand on his shoulder stopping him, he was ready to melt. The blindfold came off and he looked around to find himself in a large cavern with torches mounted in sconces. Deep orange light reflected off glistening ochre walls.
The leader gently shoved him forward. “Over here. We’ll get you situated and get you something to eat. After that, my small friend, you have much to tell us. At least I hope for your sake that you do.” He turned toward his band of followers. “Get Doc to take a look at Mathias.”
Jarek glanced around. These large beings surrounded him. There was no path of escape and, besides, if the leader was to be believed, he would have to traverse back through a swamp. He complied with the command and ambled over in the direction indicated. “Why are you doing this to me? I didn’t do anything except come here trying to find two children.” He turned to stare at the tall man.
The one who had been giving orders and shoving him around, simply shrugged and pointed to an open spot beside the cavern wall. “You can park there. We’ll get you some food and something to drink.”
“Why won’t anyone just answer my questions?” Jarek felt himself growing impatient. “Is there anyone in charge here?” He was fed up with pompous, self-righteous supervisors.
An unexpected voice emerged from the shadows. “That would be me.” A relatively short, trim female emerged into the light. Jarek guessed she could not have been older than her middle thirties. She wore the same beige and green clothing as the others but without a weapon strapped on. Her brown hair was cropped short, not even touching the tops of her ears.
Jarek approached her. He hoped she would see reason. “Madam, if you will….”
“I assure you that I am no madam.” The men around the cavern burst into laughter, which Jarek found increasingly annoying. “I am Commander Emmanuelle West. You may call me… Commander.” She strode over and glared down at him.
“Yes, well, pardon me. My name is Jarek Whit and I have come in search of two children from my community. I have no idea what is going on, but I do need to go about my business. Their parents are no doubt beyond worried and the assembly I’m sure is quite concerned.” It sounded less impressive in the spoken word than it had in his mind.
She eyed him for a moment. “If your children are out there, they are either guests of the king or they are dead. As you have seen, this land can be unforgiving. Either way, there is nothing you can do about it right now.” She nodded to a man standing nearby. “Get him some hot food.”
The declaration was like a punch in the stomach for Jarek. He struggled to catch his breath as his legs crumbled beneath him. Dead? Those children died just because they took a colored moonbeam?
West beckoned to the man whom Jarek had earlier assumed was the leader. “Virg, what is this? Why have you brought this… thing… here?” She nodded toward Jarek.
“Something he said caught me—something about beams. Maybe it means nothing. But it could be related to, you know….”
The commander stared first at Virgil and then back at Jarek. “Beams? What about beams?”
Jarek cleared his throat and set down the plate that he had just been handed. Standing, he drew himself up to his full height and explained. “Moonbeams. We have at least three moons in the sky at all times and they produce a wide variety of beams. The white beams are safe. The colored ones, not so much. My job, as a beam keeper, is to filter the colored beams to ground so that the children don’t have access to them.”
“How do you filter them?”
Jarek glanced around at his audience. Never had he had so many people listening to his every word. He nodded and began. “We have prismatic modulators that utilize crystals of different light wavelengths, you know, for different colors. By shunting the colored beams through the modulator, it deflects the beam harmlessly into the ground.” He hoped they didn’t push him for more information. Although he knew a lot about procedures, he had no background in engineering. He would hate to have to admit that he didn’t know much more. “I am sorry if my answer was somewhat technical but, that is it in a nutshell.” He smiled and beamed with pride.
“What’s the point? Why do your people care about moonbeams?”
Jarek shrugged. “Nothing really important. The kids just like to ride them. It’s harmless unless, of course, they hop on a colored one.” As he had found out.
A change came over the commander’s face. Her eyes darkened, and her mouth pulled into a tight line. She glanced at Virgil and nodded. “Good decision.” She sat down beside Jarek. “Eat, drink, and try to get some sleep. Tomorrow morning, we will talk more about these moonbeams.”
Chapter 24: Jarek
Sleep came a little easier than the previous night, which was not saying much. Jarek mentally attempted to fight the fact that he was being held captive. He toyed off and on with the notion of trying to escape, but always came back to the same reality. He was better off here with food, water, a warm place to sleep, and protection than he was out in the world. The band of soldiers, or whatever they were, in the uniforms, seemed more threatening than his current captors. Once he fell asleep, he slept hard.
It seemed no time at all before it got lighter in the cavern, becoming increasingly noisy with morning activities. He had realized the previous evening that he had not seen a single clock since he’d been here so the notion of time passing felt like guesswork.
Amidst the rising din of clatter and indecipherable words, a voice jumped out at him. “Okay, little one. Time to get started. Up with you.” Virgil stood over him with a cup of steaming liquid in his hand, which he offered to Jarek.
He pushed himself up on his elbow and took the drink. “Thank you.” He dearly loved coffee and hoped that this was something akin to it. Sniffing, Jarek found it similar although much stronger than anything he’d had in Pangrove. He blew across the surface and took a sip. “Whoa! That’s some serious coffee.” He forced a smile upward toward the man.
Virgil chuckled. “Drink up. There’s more where that came from. We’ll eat within the hour and then you have a full day ahead of you.”
Jarek joined the others for the meal. They sat on the floor in a large circle, and although there was enough daylight coming in through the door of the cave, there were burning torches flickering on the cavern walls. Mostly, the group refrained from speaking. The silence was broken by the sound of chewing, slurping, and the occasional belch. The breakfast, which consisted of chunks of bread, eggs, and roast meat—bird of some sort, was surprisingly tasty. Two cups of their coffee left him feeling as if he might have been able to climb the cavern walls. A little strong for his taste, but he would try to adapt, for he did so enjoy coffee.
Commander West joined the group late, cradling a cup in her hands. “Good morning, all.” She nodded around at the group as she sat and settled in. Taking a gulp of the morning brew, she turned her gaze to Jarek. “I am told that you are Azyrean? From a place called Pangrove?”
Jarek swallowed the meat he was chewing and wiped his mouth with a piece of cloth that he’d been given for the purpose. “Yes, Ma … Commander. That is correct.” He couldn’t think of anything else to add.
“From what you told us earlier about the moons in your sky, we can only assume that this Pangrove is not part of our world. I am frankly at a loss as to how you ended up here. Any ideas?”
Jarek launched into the tale of the colored moonbeams, to which he’d alluded the previous evening. The band grew silent, every eye focused on him. They seemed to hang on his every word. He grew more confident. “Normally, we are able to shunt these colored beams using prismatic modulators. Unfortunately, our crystals are old—scratched and chipped. Keeping them in good operating condition has become more challenging. I suspect that the wavelength f
requency tolerance has increased beyond acceptable levels.” He wasn’t sure why he bothered to go into this kind of detail. After all, it was unlikely that any of this group understood what he was talking about.
A new voice entered the conversation. “Why not replace the crystals?” A female, about the Commander’s size but much younger, set her plate down and moved a little closer to him. Her hair was different—much different. Her head was shaved on the sides and her carrot orange hair stood straight up on top, like spikes.
Commander West introduced the girl. “This is Burns. You’ll be working with her to try and figure out this whole thing.”
Jarek wasn’t quite sure what the whole thing referred to. He nodded. “Yes, well, let’s see, replacing the crystals. As far as I know, we don’t have a ready source of new crystals on Azyr—that’s what we call our world. I’m not completely sure about where our existing supply came from, except to say that we don’t have any more.”
West glanced over at Virgil, who shrugged in response. “I’m sure that the two of you will come up with some answers.” She stood and faced the group. “Meantime, Virgil, let’s meet in ten minutes—outline our skirmish plan for the day. Everyone else, get your things ready.”
◆◆◆
Jarek and Burns moved to a relatively quiet corner of the cavern with newly refilled coffee cups. “Burns. Is that your given name or your surname?”
The young woman stared at him. “What?”
Jarek shook his head and spoke, this time more slowly, “Is it your first name or last name?”
She leaned back against the wall, holding her cup in both hands on her legs. “Neither. It’s just what they call me. It’s because most of what I do burns. You know, I build things like explosives and stuff. Fire bombs are my specialty.”
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