The Thief

by Rama Nugraha

  Benji excused himself after he finished eating, carrying a couple of encyclopedia with the brown cover he borrowed from Pollo. He understood that he ran out of time and he could feel that his mother asked him to leave with her gaze.

  After Benji left, the talk about their sail to Wanageeska was officially started. Datan said that he wanted to stop by Tormera. He missed his home. Kanas uttered his opinion on that as he showed the map of the southern side of the Surface on the table. He said that as long as the visit did not last longer than three days and the weather was nice, they could still arrive at Wanageeska in two moons.

  Pollo flipped the pages of a big book of territorial information, especially about Wanageeska. “It is unlike any other places in the Surface,” he said. “Wanageeska is one of the areas of Osberga Door. It is surrounded by deadly water where Hunigs nested. The people of Falla lived there as the Guardians of the Door, which is the gateway to the Underworld.”

  Datan saw Kanas’ face turned tense. Irirana clenched her jaw and feeling her own nerve throbbing. He stood up and walked back and forth near the fireplace. The Underworld… the images of Tartas people who were known to be barbaric society popped in his head.

  “Damn it,” Datan groaned. “Why would she choose that place?”

  “One thing for sure, you have to be careful,” Pollo reminded. “I don’t think Nymeria is on her own. Whatever happens, you have to stick together.”

  “Do we have an ally in there?” Irirana asked.

  “Nunin Salama,” Kanas answered.

  “Nunin the clinic owner? Alright, let’s hope she could help us at times. I haven’t met her in a long time.”

  “Don’t forget Sami,” Pollo added. “He might also be there, Lady.”

  Datan could not bring himself to say anything. He did not know how to nicely beak the news that Sami’s neck had been slashed by a dagger. It might be better to let them know on their own later.

  For the rest of the day, they kept discussing plans, possible scenarios that could happen and strategies to deal with them. But Datan could not accept any more information. His mind was a mess, it kept jumping from one thought to another. Fear and anxiety haunted him ever since he received Nymeria’s letter.

  Datan could not wait to go.

  Datan decided to go out of the room in the middle of their talk—as Kanas talked about the people of Falla who disliked newcomers. He left the planning to Kanas and Iriana. He just wanted to stay still, to think as he walked to Pollo’s backyard. The lawn was green and wet. There was a large dent in the soil, in the size of a child’s drawer, with a gleaming center.

  For one minute, Datan was stunned when he saw the item that made the dent. Only the head part of the item was visible, the neck and the rest of its body were inside of the soil. That face of the head was covered with a mask. Around it was thorny purple vines, tying the head tightly, as though the plant was trying to prevent the item from escaping or to hold it tightly.

  Datan leaned on a pole that kept the canopy standing, holding his wrapped right hand. He felt the cold twilight breeze brushing his tired face. It felt like he was wearing an iron helmet. His mind was drowned in questions, what was Father doing right now? Did Aunt Fira know Father was kidnapped? Datan felt miserable imagining her reaction. She would be furious and would hate Datan for sure. Right now, she might be praying to Unum to curse Datan, turning him into a stone.

  Datan heard steps approaching him, and his nose picked the scent of vanilla.

  Irirana stood next to him, looking at him sadly. “You look like a mess,” she said. “And red.”

  “I should have listened to you that day.”

  “You are a Royan, Datan. You disobey the order and the rules. You barely followed the law,” Irirana shrugged. “I know that. I’m not chaining you to follow the orders, I offer you some options.”

  “Will you punish me?”

  “That’s the rule, isn’t it?”

  Datan nodded. “I understand,” he said. Now he wished to be punished, hoping that afterward, his problems would lessen.

  “We’ll talk about it after this matter with Nymeria is cleared.”

  “That’s better.”

  “It will not be easy.”

  “I’ll survive. You know me. I am a strong one, Irirana.”

  Irirana mustered a small smile with her thin red lips. “Is that true?”

  “Well, I mean, my body is strong,” Datan mumbled, scratched the itch in the skin of his thigh behind his pants. “But I’m just worried now.”

  “I’m here with you, Datan,” Irirana looked at him closely, offering him her warm smile which would grant anyone who saw it a sense of relief. “You’re not alone.”

  That woman was charming. Datan admitted that he liked staring at beautiful women. But it was not the case with Irirana, it was more than that. Datan looked away as he felt himself blushing. “No. It’s not about that—I am glad you’re with me. But,” he struggled. “You don’t understand, Irirana.” He looked at her again, feeling bitter at the tip of his tongue.

  “Do you know what it’s like to have your father kidnapped?”

  Irirana was startled at the question, she honestly answered ‘no’ by shaking her head.

  “It feels really…” Datan tapped his chest, letting out his frustration and distress. “It feels chaotic in here.”

  Irirana knew Datan meant what he said. “I would’ve never thought that you are a dramatic one, Datan,” she said, holding back her laugh.

  “I mean it!” Datan exclaimed. “I would shave that woman’s head clean when I meet her.”

  “That’s enough to break her heart.”

  “Nymeria doesn’t have a heart, Irirana.”

  Irirana was stunned staring at Datan. She walked away, approaching a stone chair facing the yard.

  “Is Pollo… serious about that thing?” Datan filled the silence.

  “Yes,” Iriana responded. “That piece of gold was brought from Soron Nublar a year ago. It weighs almost a ton. Pollo is a Royan, chef, and also the richest man in Angare.”

  “Crazy Urgut. Stones, diamonds, steel, they are crazy about those things.”

  “Well, the blood of miners run through their veins. No matter what, that affection is hard to suppress.”

  Datan turned around, leaning his back on a pole while still holding his right arm. He looked at Irirana who lifted her head to return his gaze. “The children,” he said. “Are you sure you’re going to leave them and come with me to Wanageeska?”

  Irirana contemplated for a moment while staring at Datan before she nodded surely. She told him that she had taught all three of her children to take care of themselves, to adapt to the situation in case she had to leave them in her missions.

  “It’s hard, I will miss them,” she admitted. “But it is what it is, we must accept it.”

  Irirana added sullenly that Tannu passed away three days after Datan left for Fardas. She said it was difficult to explain his death to his wife and that she felt tired handling Petan who would not stop crying. After the funeral, Petan even locked himself in his room. Irirana said that the boy was indeed close with Tannu. Almost every time after his mission, Tannu brought the boy various things.

  “Tannu often told me,” Iriana uttered sadly. “That Petan reminded him of Tirgil, his son that went missing.”

  “I am so sorry, Irirana,” Datan uttered his condolences. In his head, he was reminded of Sami. “Have you figured out the cause of his death?”

  “We still cannot understand this type of toxin. Aunt Muri had sent his blood sample to the Toxicology Center in Harashi, Central Land of Bavarat. But we have yet to receive an answer.”

  “Don’t we have a toxicologist in here?

  “They said it’s beyond their comprehension. Even Jarol Lika, our most acclaimed one. They said that the toxic is more complicated than her creation, Setryi.”

  Datan gulped, then he turned towards the yard. He could sense that this unfortunate situation would
get worse. Lifting his hand, he saw Malika, which was moved to his left hand. He stared at it for a long time before brushing its cold surface to his lips. He lifted his gaze to see the golden statue in the yard, which really stood out.

  ◆◆◆

  Irirana spent the night on her own in the Suba Tower. She thought of many things, many occasions. She also tried to imagine their journey to Wanageeska. Kanas said that the Kahisar was like that. She liked to spend a night in the Suba Tower all alone, especially before a trip.

  “She was talking to The Creator,” Kanas said. “That’s how we, Haedin people, called it.”

  “Unum?” Datan shook. “I prefer to call it thinking, you know? Only when we are on our own can we use our brain fully. And, oh, we can also sharpen our susceptibility,” he spoke like he knew best.

  Kanas kept on chewing blood orange, paying Datan no mind.

  The next morning, Irirana held a meeting in the castle’s great hall. She ordered the Tailors to prepare her night attire, asking Verik to replace Datan’s and Kanas’ attires with a new one—to make sure that every element of their attire was in perfect shape. She also asked the Blacksmiths to check on the equipment they would bring.

  Irirana had prepared more than Datan. That woman became busy. Towards the children, Irirana reminded them about their daily routine and learning schedule. She also took notes, discussed many things, accepted and gave advice to Pollo. Most of the times, the advice was about bureaucracy in Angare, on how to handle complains and meet the need of the people.

  Pollo took over Irirana when she was not present.

  “Don’t lose patience, Pollo,” she reminded.

  That was not the first time she left Yardara. Irirana went on missions quite frequently, traveling to many places in the world to deal with many businesses. She could leave at least three times per year. Only this time, Irirana felt that their journey would be harder than their expectation.

  On the other hand, Kanas was not that busy. He just needed to remind Anfafa, the gardener and the caretaker of his house, a man with a large nose, to clean the house and water his blood orange plants in his office. He then sent a letter to Niri in Post 20 in Laha, asking her to prepare three horses they would ride to reach Tormera.

  Datan chose to spend his day by training with Kanas, letting out his boiling emotion. While at night, he just stayed still for hours inside his room without any light. Datan always did that when he was stressed out. The Ingran blood flowing in his veins was boiling, building up the desire to embrace the darkness.

  Until in the morning of the next two days, the news from Edgar and Pobos came. They included ten pieces of foul-smelling suspicious wooden barrels which they assured Datan’s group will need in the journey. In the following night, they sailed into the sea. Kiar followed them, sometimes he perched on the sailing and sometimes he flew guarding them as the stars filled the sky.

  Since they left Yardara, Datan barely spoke. Irirana tried to distract him, but it was not easy. Edgar and Pobos tried to lift his spirit but they were unsuccessful. As for Kanas, Datan clearly avoided him because of the smell of his citrus-scented perfume which attacked his nose brutally. It was too much. It was unbelievable that the man with the scarred slippery forehead had time to use perfume like they were heading to a party.

  Datan spent his time in solitude in the cabin. Most of the times, he just stared at the mirror, looking at his figure which was now as red as unripe tomatoes. His left hand which was no longer bandaged was worse. Not one single hair was left in there. The skin was no longer red, it was maroon. Although there was no sign of deformity, it was completely red from the tip of his finger to the other end of his arm. Even more, one of his armpits was hairless.

  That dammed Anag!

  Datan felt like the weirdest Neena in the entire world.

  Datan brushed his lips against Malika, then starred at it. The item was magically unharmed despite his butchered arm. Sometimes in the middle of the night, he woke up frightened, drenched in sweat. Dreaming a life without his father was terrifying. Datan could no longer go back to sleep after that. He waited for morning to come by reading books or to just watch the water that looked like glistening blackness at the edge of the deck.

  Once in a while, when the sea was merciful, Kiar perched on the wooden handle next to Datan, hooting friendlily to accompany him. While Irirana meditated almost every night, talking to Unum in the bow of the ship, sitting cross-legged or sitting on her legs with both of her hands on her lap. As she did, the soft scent of vanilla filled the air around her.

  ◆◆◆

  In the first day after they arrive in Laha, Niri welcomed them. Her eyes bugged out looking at Datan, who was now as red as a tomato. She asked a lot of questions about it. Datan told him the gist about what happened. Niri was astonished, listening to him sympathetically with both of her hands on her laps. For a moment she looked like she actually understood what Datan felt about the aftermath of Anag’s magic. It was like she experienced it firsthand.

  “The aftermath is different for every person,” she said. “Ah, but no matter what, I admire you nonetheless, Sir Datan!”

  Datan welcomed Niri’s hug, not feeling awkward at all. Actually, Irirana’s coming was even more surprising for her. Niri hugged her like she was a long-lost sister.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Niri,” Irirana brushed her black hair like she did to Petan. “Sorry, I only came by right now.”

  “Don’t say that, Lady,” Niri smiled, her bright blue eyes looked touched. “I know you must be really busy.”

  Niri and Irirana turned out to be really close. They talked a lot about food, how to cook black pepper fire squid perfectly so that the fishy smell would not linger. Niri admitted that Irirana saved her life once back in Fardas. Datan asked further about it but Niri was reluctant to tell him any more than that.

  The three Royans did not spend much time in Post 20. Exactly at three in the afternoon, they continued their journey. They rode their horses to Tormera, while Edgar and Pobos stayed with Niri to prepare Seekar for the next sail.

  Chapter 28

  Phase One

  At the end of December, the sky looked bright blue and cloudy on the horizon. Wildflowers bloomed vibrantly in the meadow. Insects sang rapturously and the eastern wind brushed the entire land ever so warmly, burning with life. Indeed, the Sarayan land was in the middle of a gleeful summer.

  The people there should be very happy. They were about to hold various festivals to honor many things. There was competition, recitation of songs accompanied by music and ritual to celebrate the harvest. Even the gold miners from the Red Mountains would join the celebration.

  Yet, that sight was nowhere to be found. Sarayan looked grey. Tormera was in trouble. The group arrived the moment a guard ran out of the gate while screaming hysterically as if he was chased by a giant mad dog.

  “What’s wrong with him, pan?” Kanas questioned, squinting at the man.

  Irirana’s gaze scanned her surroundings. “Something’s happening,” she said. She then saw that in the radius of one kilometer from the border area, all the wild plants had died. The soil cracked and the air was filled with a foul smell that resembled blood.

  Meanwhile, Datan took a turn with his horse, gripping the horse with his legs, he had it go after the guard who ran through the reeds into the forest. That man ran while wielding an unsheathed sword, which had a black stain on it. He kept screaming, asking for help, though it was unclear to whom.

  “Jaann!” Datan yelled as he caught up to him. He put down his hood, “Jaann! Stop!”

  But Jaann did not stop. Panting still, he kept on running. When he finally glanced at Datan who was on his saddle, Datan saw black spots in his bugged eyes and black watery blood dripping from his nose. “Datan, oh!” he screeched. “Datan the thief! Datan—your face is red! Oh, no Datan, I cannot stop! Can’t you see? That dog is chasing me! He’s hungry! He wants to eat me!”

  He kept on running like there wa
s actually a starving horse-sized mad dog behind him. It was unsettling for Datan since there was clearly nothing behind him. Then, all of sudden, the guard in the dark uniform started to howl. He took off his clothes whilst keep on running as if there were flesh-eating worms in the fabric. He kept running with no clothes on, panicking, hysterical, like a true mad man.

  Datan slowed down before completely stopping. His jaw dropped, he was truly stunned. He realized something though he was too scared to accept it.

  “Datan! Let him be!” Irirana shout broke his thought. “We need to move fast!”

  Something bad was happening in Tormera.

  Right in the opened gateway, there was only a man panting in the security post. He placed his chin in the window frame. He was crouching down, sitting still on a wooden chair with short legs. His skin was yellowish, pale, and slightly covered in scale. His arm made a sweeping motion, inviting in the group who looked at his movement closely.

  “Oi, woman, pan?” he called out hoarsely. “Women may get in.”

  “Don’t stop, Datan,” Irirana said sternly as she saw Datan’s horse slowed down.

  “Oh, Loy…” Datan shook his head, feeling sorry.

  Datan recognized the man with the wide spotted eyes, who seemed to have a difficulty in breathing. Loy had helped Bark several times chase after Datan when he pickpocketed customers of a gold store. It was clear that Loy was sick terminally. It was visible from the yellow color of his skin, black spots in his eyes, blood dripping from his nose and the smell of sulfur around him.

  Loy crackled out of the blue. “Be careful, women! Be careful!” he shouted. “There’s a shrewdness of raging apes in there!”

  The group proceeded, moving forward in the middle of an empty street. Datan was in the front of the line, followed by Irirana behind him and Kanas, who guarded their back. They did not find any sign of living being. It was as though they stepped into an abandoned country. The horses tapped their feet lightly. It sounded sorrowful. Once in a while, the horses neighed like they were worried and reluctant to move forward.