“Hold your father’s head up for me, Lilith,” Istulo said, her voice sounding hoarse.
Propping up his head, Lilith kept it still while Istulo poured the mixture of cobra’s liquid, white powder, and water down his throat.
“What did you take from the snake’s mouth?” Lilith asked as Istulo wiped a running drop away from his chin.
“Poison,” she replied with no emotion.
Lilith balked. “You…you made him drink the cobra’s poison? But…but that’s already in his body!”
Istulo put her hand up. “In alchemy, you fight fire with fire, Lilith. I know what I am doing. I am trained in the art of potions. You need to learn to trust. All we can do is wait now. Segund is in Ra’s hands.” Then Istulo clapped three times over Lilith’s barely breathing father and went into a trance.
Wiping her eyes, Lilith bent down to kiss her father’s forehead. The heat and stickiness melded with her lips and tasted like melted salt. Lilith fixed his shirt, slowly stood, and walked over to Tau and She-Aba. The Arch of Atlantis steadily hummed, the sound started to make her feel woozy. Why did Mica do this? Her fingers curled into her palms, and she sucked in her stomach.
She-Aba reached out to hug her. “It will be all right, Lilith. Istulo will heal your father,” she said in an assuring manner.
Lilith unfurled her fingers and hugged She-Aba back. She squeezed her eyes shut to wring out her tears, then opened them. She wanted to melt into the deep bronze color of the room, find comfort from one of the four huge tapestries hanging against each wall, but Tau obscured her view.
Tau looked up from the record keeper. The sides of his eyes crinkled as he caught Lilith staring at him. “Don’t expect me to give you a hug, Atcha-girl,” he said with a slight grin.
Lilith reached out to snatch the record keeper away from Tau. “Hey, I wasn’t finished reading that!”
“Is that what you were doing?” She-Aba let Lilith go. “It looked more like you were trying to understand what you scribed.”
Tau sighed. “I…I was. I don’t know the meaning of some of the words.”
Lilith looked over the papyrus pages. “Is this a riddle or poem you wrote, Tau?”
“What’s a riddle?” She-Aba asked.
“What’s a poem?” Tau asked.
Lilith rolled her eyes. “Never mind. Just listen, and we’ll try to figure out what this means—Greedy and wicked these people have become, ignoring to follow the Law of One. Return to the City of the Golden Gates, the One who must banish evil, by the end of the first major quake.”
Tau shrugged. “Where’s the City of the Golden Gates?”
“Yeah, and who are the greedy and wicked people?” She-Aba asked.
The Arch of Atlantis’s humming instantly changed from a low drone into a high piercing pitch. Three golden beams of light snaked out of the archway, and instead of transforming into serpents, the tri-lights burst into a vibrant spiraling rainbow and pulled Lilith, She-Aba, and Tau into the archway.
Lilith clasped the record keeper close to her heart, fearing if she didn’t, she may lose it forever. They were falling, whirling around in mid-air like drops of rain in the wind. A sense of calm, of peace, entered her mind, extinguishing her fear in that moment. This whirling rainbow was pulling her, She-Aba, and Tau somewhere, and it was ensuring her in its own way that all was well. A feeling of floating, of being light as a feather, brushed her insides, making her skin ripple. Curious, Lilith held one arm out, keeping her other hand securely over the record keeper. She tried to catch the air, slow herself down, as the spiral drew them deeper and deeper inside, as if they were being swallowed by a huge serpent.
She-Aba clenched her knees together while trying to hold her sheath and satchel down. “My clothes will be ruined if we don’t slow down!” she shrieked.
“It’s always about you, isn’t it, fire-head,” Tau said. Then he spread out his arms and legs. “Ohhh, this is how a hawk must feel when it soars!”
She-Aba grabbed Tau’s ankle with her free hand and gave him a spin. “And this…is what a flailing scarab feels like, bug-boy!”
“That’s not funny, fire-head!” Tau yelled, wobbling around.
“It is from this angle,” She-Aba replied, giggling.
Lilith’s stomach felt as if it were almost stuck in her throat. Shifting her body in flight, she maneuvered over to She-Aba and Tau. “Did the golden serpent light say anything to you while it was wrapped around you, Tau?”
Before Tau had a chance to answer, Lilith felt her body slow down, as if a sudden wind had pushed her back up, then gently lowered her down. Gaining her balance, Lilith felt the spongy ground underneath her bare feet. She-Aba’s landing was not so graceful, as she stumbled on her high heels and fell into a wide-leafed plant with pink flowers. Tau never made it to the ground. Caught in between two thick branches of a tree that looked as if it had been planted upside-down, he hung, chasing the air with his legs and going nowhere. As their surroundings became clearer, Lilith noticed that they had been dumped in the middle of what looked like a tropical forest. It was a refreshing change from the Black Land’s barren landscape.
“W-Where are we?” She-Aba asked, crawling out of the plant.
“I-I’m not sure,” Lilith replied. Her nose flared. The air smelled fresh, almost pure to her.
“Well, we’re not in the desert anymore,” Tau said, wiggling and huffing. “Could you two get me down?”
She-Aba smirked. “What’s the magic word?”
Tau stopped squirming between the branches. “Huh? Magic word? How would I know, I’m not a magus!”
“You’re not very bright, either,” She-Aba replied. “What word do you use when you want something?”
Tau snorted. “Now!”
Lilith rolled her eyes. She passed the record keeper to She-Aba, then stuck her foot into the closest, deepest crevice in the tree. She pulled herself up, found another crevice, and pulled herself up again. She looked down at She-Aba. “Go cut a vine for Tau to use to climb down.”
“What’s a vine?” She-Aba asked, frowning.
Lilith sighed. “Over there, hanging from that tree. It looks like a rope. Haven’t you ever seen one?”
“No. I live in the desert. In fact, I find it quite warm and damp here. Not the best place for my hair.”
“There is no place for your hair, fire-head,” Tau said indignantly.
She-Aba grunted. She opened her satchel, slid the record keeper in, and pulled out the metal clipper she used to cut and style hair. Lilith hid an emerging smile as she observed her friend. Walking proved to be anything but easy for She-Aba, as the forest floor appeared to want to swallow her shoes. Reaching for a long strong vine that crept around the base of a tree as if it were a snake, She-Aba sliced through it with ease, untangled it, and hobbled back to Lilith and Tau.
A rancorous scream permeated through the forest. She-Aba froze in her tracks, the vine she cut hanging lifeless in her hand. “W-What was that?”
Lilith’s whole body prickled. No, it can’t be, can it? That would be impossible.
She turned to scan the area. Tau wouldn’t quit wiggling. She reached for his arm and squeezed. “Stop that, I’m trying to—”
Another scream, this time closer, rolled out through the leaves.
“Oh, Poseidon, it is,” Lilith said, feeling her heart start to race. “Quick, She-Aba, throw up the vine and go hide! Now!”
“What’s going on, Lilith?” Tau asked. “Why do you sound so frightened?”
Lilith looked around again. “Because a wyvern is hunting us.”
“A…what?” She-Aba asked.
“A wyvern. It looks like a huge snake with wings, feet like a hawk’s, and a tail like a white crawler.”
She-Aba huffed. “Excuse, me, Miss Bossy, but I th
ink I proved that I can handle a snake just fine.”
“For once would you just do as you’re told, fire-head,” Tau said. “Throw up the vine!”
“You mean this vine, Tau?” She-Aba swung it in her hand.
“She-Aba, you don’t understand, wyverns aren’t like cobras,” Lilith explained. “You’ve never seen one before, so you have no idea what they’re capable of.”
“So enlighten me, then. How do you know so much about these snake-like creatures?”
Lilith scanned the area one more time before she said, “They’re native to only one place on earth.”
“And where’s that?” Tau asked, grunting as he gripped the tree branch.
Lilith licked her dry lips and said, “Atlantis.”
6
The First Timekeepers
“Did…did you just say Atlantis? Atlantis, as in your home country?” She-Aba asked.
“Atlantis as in your now sunken country?” Tau asked.
Lilith nodded. “I know it makes no sense, but wyverns were only bred on Atlantis to protect our coastline.”
Another shriek permeated Lilith’s ears. She balked. “She-Aba—the vine!”
She-Aba pitched the vine, not realizing that its end was tangled around her feet. As Lilith and Tau yanked up on the vine, She-Aba fell backwards. “Stop pulling, I’m caught!”
“Well, get uncaught, fire-head, we need the vine!” Tau shouted down.
Hearing branches snap and crack, Lilith and Tau turned their heads. They dropped their jaws, and the vine, at the same time. A wyvern broke into the clearing—a young one—Lilith guessed, judging by its size, as it was no bigger than a full-grown horse. Its translucent wings flapped, its green, leathery skin rippled, and it opened its reptilian jaws. A long, forked tongue slithered out, as if tasting their smell, drinking in the perfume of their sweat. Strutting like a cock ready to do battle, it whipped its long tail side to side, showing off its poisonous barb as if it were an ornament to be revered. The wyvern’s nostrils flared once, twice, three times before it let out another shriek from his monstrous mouth and charged them.
“Oh-my-Poseidon! Run, She-Aba!” Lilith screamed, trying to break a branch off the tree.
“I-I-I’m trying!” She-Aba yelled, still struggling with the vine.
A roar sounded from behind the advancing wyvern. Lilith had managed to snap off a branch and pitched it at the winged serpent. Her aim was dead on, whacking it on the head. It stopped, shook its head and neck, making the wormy beard on its chin wiggle, and glared at Lilith. It let out a shriek that made her insides shrink. The wyvern flapped its wings, preparing for attack, but was clawed in the face by what appeared to be a human-animal hybrid half its size.
The hybrid stood upright, roared, grabbed one of the wyvern’s wings, and tugged it toward its back. Losing its footing, the wyvern shrieked, gnashed its jaws from side-to-side, and flailed its barbed tail around the air in an attempt to swat the hybrid. The wyvern’s attacker pulled the wing harder until it was dragged down to the ground.
“Watch the tail!” Lilith yelled.
The hybrid looked up in time to avoid the tail. Although he looked and dressed like a man, he possessed the claws and tail of a lion. He glanced at Lilith for a moment. Olive eyes bored into her. His nose was long, his cheekbones high. He had a shaggy black mane for hair and a long, braided goatee. He was wearing a burgundy tunic with the insignia of a golden serpent wrapped around his left arm. This marked him a guardian of the Temple of the Sun—a common purpose for human-lion hybrids.
“Etan!” a voice yelled from the forest.
“Who said that?” Tau asked, still struggling between the branches.
“There—” Lilith pointed. “—running out from behind those sprawling shrubs. A boy about your age.”
“Not a boy, a…a man.” She-Aba finally freed herself. She ran her fingers through her hair. “And he’s a fine-looking specimen from what I see.”
“Stay where you are! I swore to your father to keep you safe!” the human-lion hybrid named Etan growled as he pinned the wyvern down harder.
“For Ra’s sake, throw up the vine, fire-head, my legs are cramping!” Tau yelled.
Lilith caught the vine, wrapped it around the branches Tau was pinned between, then reached over, grabbed one of his feet, and guided Tau’s foot toward a notch in the tree. “Push hard, Tau, set yourself free!”
Tau grunted as if he were giving birth and pushed himself up and out. He grasped the vine and climbed down with ease, mimicking a monkey. Then Lilith reached for the vine, swung off the rough tree trunk, and started to slide down just as the wyvern let out an angry, piercing shriek. Startled, Lilith jerked and the vine snapped. She-Aba broke her fall.
“Ohhh!” She-Aba screamed, almost matching the wyvern’s horrible wail. “My foot!”
“Ohhh, my ears,” Tau muttered, covering his ears.
Lilith heard the sound of hurried footsteps crunch through the spongy ground to beat a path toward them.
“Are you hurt?” someone with a distinct Atlantean accent asked.
Lilith looked up. The young man who ran out of the forest hovered above her and She-Aba. He had curly, sandy hair which stuck out every which way, and soft brown eyes. He was dressed in a linen tunic and pants, with a purple sash and palm leaf sandals. Despite his plain clothing, everything about his manner and stance told Lilith that he came from a house of privilege. He leaned against his staff, as if he had nothing better to do.
Lilith cleared her throat. “Um, I wouldn’t worry too much about us, seeing as your—”
“It’s…it’s broken!” She-Aba cut her off.
“Your foot is broken?” Tau asked in a concerned tone.
She-Aba sniffed. “No, my heel! Now my shoe is ruined!”
Lilith rolled her eyes. She got up, brushed herself off, looked at the young man hovering over her friend, and said, “She’s all yours.”
Etan ripped out a painful roar. Lilith whirled around. The wyvern had managed to dig one of its sharp talons into his leg. His grip was starting to weaken. The wyvern’s tail swung around enough for Lilith to see a small tattoo above the barbed tail. Her eyes widened. Uncle Kukulkan had once told her that to ensure their safety wyvern breeders implanted a small poisonous sac inside the tails of young wyverns, and marked the area with a tattoo. If a wyvern suddenly became unruly, then the breeder smashed a rod against the tattoo to release the poison into the wyvern’s body, killing it instantly. Panicking, Lilith looked around for a makeshift weapon. The only possible weapon was being used as a post. She didn’t hesitate and grabbed the staff the stranger was leaning on.
“Tau, pick up the vine and follow me!” Lilith yelled.
“Huh? Why?” Tau asked.
“You’re a farmer’s son. Surely you know how to rope a goat,” Lilith answered.
“Goats, yes. That—” Tau pointed, while gathering the vine “—not so much.”
“All you need to do is rope its tail. I’ll do the rest with this staff.”
Tau groaned as he made a loop with the vine. “Atchas make no sense.”
Lilith frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You’re afraid of cobras, but not afraid of those things?”
The wyvern shrieked as it thrashed its head and long neck.
“Come on, Tau, the hybrid is losing his grip!”
Lilith sprinted and circled the wyvern on one side, while Tau ran toward the opposite side and waved the noose over his head. With his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth, Tau threw the vine and caught the tip of its barbed tail. Threading the vine around his torso, Tau yanked on the tail. The wyvern screeched, swung its head in Tau’s direction, and snapped its jaws, just missing his foot.
“Hurry, Lilith, before this oversized lizard reaches me!”
Lilith targeted the dark tattoo shaped like two connected circles above the barb, raised the staff and swung it with enough force to hit the tattoo dead-on. The wyvern jumped at the blow. Hissing and wailing, the wyvern started to convulse and drool as the poison from the implanted sac swiftly shot through its body. Etan released his hold, flicked his tail, and motioned for Lilith and Tau to move away. The wyvern, now free, thrashed and railed for three more breaths before it fell deadly still.
“Quick thinking, Lilith,” Tau said as he joined her. “How did you know what to do?”
“Simple. We needed to fight fire with fire, like Istulo did with my father,” she replied. “I knew that under the tattoo above the wyvern’s barbed tail was a poisonous sac placed there by its breeder, so I thought if we could get close enough to break the sac then—”
“—it would poison itself,” Tau cut in, finishing for Lilith. “Good call, Atcha-girl.”
“Thank you,” the human-lion hybrid said, bowing. His voice sounded beastly, deep.
Lilith squeezed the staff. “We should be the ones thanking you. If it wasn’t for you, my friends and I would be wyvern fodder by now.”
“Unless it got to She-Aba first,” Tau added with a grin. “She would have left a bad taste in its mouth, and it would have left us alone.”
Lilith burst out laughing.
“Did I miss a joke?” She-Aba asked, hobbling on one foot while the young man had his arm wrapped around her waist.
“Oh, there’s always something to laugh about when you’re around, fire-head.”
She-Aba huffed. “If you don’t show some proper manners, I won’t introduce you to my new friend.”
“Poor friend,” Tau muttered.
Etan hid a smile. Lilith did too, then said, “I’m Lilith, and this is Tau. I see She-Aba has already presented herself.”
The young man bowed. “My name is Ajax-ol. And this—” he waved a hand toward the hybrid “—is Etan, my guardian.”
Legend of the Timekeepers Page 6
