by Karen Hughes
She must be using some kind of spell to confuse the old man. Yes, that had to be it. Or maybe she looked so much like the first apiki flower that he believed they were the same person.
‘She asked me to send all the children to the island,’ Old Man Kita said. ‘It makes her power stronger.’ For a moment he looked dazed. ‘I was going to send you back there, but she says you’re different. She says you’re special. She will come for you soon.’ He passed a trembling hand across his forehead, and then he turned away and disappeared back into the shadows.
‘I can’t go with her,’ said Nima. ‘I can’t.’ She was sitting on the floor rocking back and forth, raking at the bands on her ankles. ‘My father … I have to get to Nagara. I have to find the boy with the monkey.’
The water in the pool began to churn and splash. It changed from murky grey to a brilliant blue. Kai walked to the edge.
‘You don’t have to,’ he said. ‘Look. The water is spinning like a whirlpool. I can feel the magic.’
He turned back to her, his eyes shining. ‘The water spirits have opened the portal! I can see them down there, calling to us.’
‘It’s a trick,’ said Nima. ‘You heard him. It’s my mother. She’s waiting for us.’
There was a clicking noise, and the silver bands broke open and fell to the ground. Kai rubbed the raw skin on his wrists.
‘I don’t think it’s her,’ he said. ‘I think she was trying to scare us, but the water spirits are stronger. I think the water spirits are breaking the bands.’
Nima was silent. She pointed to the food. It had crumbled to ash on the shells.
‘See!’ said Kai. ‘The water spirits have found a way to get us away from here.’
‘But I ate it,’ whispered Nima. She swayed on her feet. Kai ran to her. ‘I can’t breathe,’ she said, clutching at her throat.
He caught her as she fell. A low moan came from the walls. The burning torches flickered and went out. Kai dragged Nima to the pool. He could feel the magic in the cave. He knew they had to go.
‘Stop!’ It was Old Man Kita. He shuffled towards them, his hands held high.
The water in the pool was rising fast, spilling over the edge, splashing onto the mosaic. Long thin fingers reached out to Kai. The moan became a scream. Without thinking, he plunged into the water with Nima in his arms.
Down they sank, spinning and turning, caught in the spin of the whirlpool. Images flickered around them. Kai saw the long green hair of the spirits, their thin arms and legs, as they pulled him through the water. Somehow he found that he could breathe, although the journey seemed to take forever and the water closed in all around him. He could see nothing clearly, only vague shapes and colours lit by dancing trails of light.
And then they were spiralling upward and the colours were changing and the water spirits were gone; and he landed, gasping and puffing and completely dry, on the banks of a small stream with Nima still wrapped in his arms.
Nima groaned and opened her eyes. ‘I feel sick,’ she said. She leaned away from him and vomited on the grass. When she turned back, her face was a normal colour and she was wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
‘You were right,’ she said in a weak voice. ‘I shouldn’t have eaten the crab claws.’
Kai stood up and pulled her to her feet. ‘Ugh! That smells really bad,’ he said. ‘Like dead fish.’
Nima looked green. She clutched her stomach and heaved onto Kai’s boots.
‘Yuk!’ he cried, hopping up and down on the grass. ‘That’s disgusting!’
He sat beside the stream and dipped his feet in the water.
‘I’m sorry,’ Nima whispered. ‘I feel better now.’
Kai grabbed a handful of grass and scrubbed at his boots. ‘I can still smell it,’ he said.
Nima was standing beside him, looking curiously at the water. ‘There’s something down there …’ she began. Then she stopped. ‘Kai,’ she whispered. ‘We have to go. Now!’
She grabbed his hand and yanked him to his feet. On the surface of the water there was a rippling face. The brown eyes were filled with sorrow; the mouth open in a cry of anguish. ‘Nima.’
‘It’s Sofia,’ whispered Kai.
‘Run,’ cried Nima. She sprinted away from the stream. Kai followed close behind.
The ground was flat and covered in smooth green grass. They were in some kind of garden, surrounded by avenues of manicured rose bushes and perfectly shaped orange trees. The domes and spires of a golden palace rose up in front of them, and beyond the palace were the cramped streets and hovels of an overcrowded city.
‘Nagara,’ said Kai, his eyes wide.
‘Stop right there!’ said a voice. A man dressed in a white uniform with shiny gold buttons was hurrying towards them. Behind him were three other men, dressed in identical white uniforms.
There was nowhere to run. The guards took one look at them, with their brown skin and curly Kalika hair, and marched them on to the palace.
The dungeons of Nagara were mouldy and damp and filled with crying gypsy children. The guards threw Kai and Nima into a tiny cell, where they were immediately attacked by a dozen grasping hands, begging for food.
‘Look at their faces,’ whispered Nima. ‘Look how thin and sick they are!’
Kai looked at his cousin, and realised with a shock that she looked the same as the other children. Her arms and legs were like sticks, her skin sallow and yellow, her face gaunt and sickly. She had tears in her eyes.
‘We have to help them,’ she said.
Kai looked around at the cold bars, at the bodies crushed together against the curved stone walls. He could see that they were at the bottom of some kind of tower and the cell was one of many, each packed with children.
There was no crack in the rock, no tunnel or magic pool, not even a window to squeeze through. The only possible way out was through the bars at the front of the cell, and these were fastened by a big shiny lock.
Chief Wicasa’s words came into his head. ‘The secret to real magic is simple. Expect it to happen, pretend it has already happened, be grateful, and whatever you wish for will appear.’
A key, he thought. All I want is a key.
He whispered every spell he could remember but no matter how he tried, the key did not appear.
‘I don’t know the right words for this,’ he told Nima at last, rattling the bars in frustration.
Nima was sitting against the bars, wrapped tightly in her mother’s purple cloak.
‘I wish Usha was here,’ she whispered.
Kai’s face brightened. ‘Call her,’ he said. ‘And I’ll call Sisika. It’s worth a try. They might be able to help us.’
Nima hesitated, then she shook her head. ‘My mother is here at the palace; I know she is. If I call Usha, Sofia will feel the magic. She’ll know where we are.’
‘Don’t you think she knows already? I'm sure we’re here because of her. And if we’re not, she’ll find us eventually. She knows we went through the pool.’
Nima stood and put her hands on the bars, gazing out into the gloom.
‘Usha will look after you,’ said Kai. He closed his eyes and called out. ‘Sisika! I need your help. Sisika!’
There was no rush of feathers, no flash of red, only Kai’s voice in the sudden silence. The children stared at him.
A little girl with big eyes and no front teeth took his hand and lisped, ‘Shh. No one will help you here. You’ll make them angry and they’ll hurt you.’
Kai squatted down in front of her. ‘Who will hurt me?’ he asked.
‘The guards,’ said the little girl. ‘They hit us with sticks. You can’t make them angry.’
Kai looked up at Nima, who was still looking out through the bars. ‘Call Usha,’ he said again.
‘I can’t,’ said Nima. ‘If it brings Sofia here, what can we do? We’re trapped. We can’t even run away from her.’
‘We have magic – ’
‘Do we?’ Nima turned to l
ook at him. ‘Where’s the key? And where’s Sisika? You called her. Why isn’t she here?’
‘She might be helping some other way,’ said Kai. ‘Remember when we were in the Dasa Mountains and she led Dargan to us on the glacier? And what about on the island? She brought you and Jabar to help me when Mari was sick. I called and called and she didn’t come, but she heard me.’
‘I can’t risk it,’ Nima insisted. ‘Not with all these children here. I don’t know what she’ll do to them.’
Kai looked at the little girl. He saw the frightened faces of the other children. Nima was right. Sofia was capable of anything. She wouldn’t care about hurting children, no matter how small and defenceless they were. If they were in her way, she would turn them into beetles or worms or sapphire rings, without even thinking about it.
There was a clatter of boots and a jangle of keys, and an old guard with long greasy hair appeared at the top of the stairs. He muttered to himself as he climbed down, watched the whole way by the hungry children. But he carried no food. Instead, he pointed to Kai and Nima.
‘You two,’ he barked. ‘The new ones. Emperor has asked to see you personally.’
He grinned, showing black and broken teeth. ‘Icky little forest kids. Emperor hates forest kids. Now move it!’ He slammed his stick against the bars, making them both jump. ‘Mustn’t keep him waiting.’
The other children slunk back against the walls, watching in silence as the guard unlocked the door and pulled Nima and Kai through. Kai looked back to see the little girl, her thumb in her mouth, her hand raised in a half-wave. She looked as if she might cry. He tried to smile at her, to reassure her, but the guard shoved the stick against his back, and forced him up the stairs.
Chapter 19
Indie and Jabar
Indie stood by the stream, staring down at the water. She wasn’t close enough to disturb the silvers, but she could see them buzzing through the reeds and swarming over the shallows.
She knew that the minute she put her hand in the silvers would be all over her, biting and stinging and peppering her with angry welts. But she had watched Nima and Kai disappear into the water, and she knew there must be a way.
‘It’s a portal,’ she told Jabar. ‘It has to be. Like the one in the Moon Tree.’ Her shoulders slumped. ‘Portals only open at Okowa, the autumn festival. That’s what Kai told me.’
She gazed out at the water, thinking. ‘But Kai and Indie must have gone through a portal. Maybe it’s different when you can talk to the nature spirits. Maybe you can open it with a spell or something.’
‘We don’t know any spells,’ said Jabar.
‘Mari might. She’s a gypsy. They know all kinds of things.’
‘She doesn’t know any more than we do.’
‘Well, Kai and Nima didn’t know much either, and they found a way.’
‘You have to stop this,’ said Jabar. ‘Kai and Nima are gone. Magic words aren’t going to bring them back.’
Indie frowned. ‘I was trapped on an island for years, with Sofia telling me all the things I couldn’t do. She made me feel like I was stupid for reading poetry and dreaming about magical things. Then Kai came along and showed me that magic was real.’ She stopped and tossed a pebble into the water, watching the cloud of silver rise around it. ‘I’m not listening to you,’ she said. ‘Kai and Nima are alive, and I’m going to find them.’
Jabar watched as she stood up and stalked off under the trees. He didn’t follow her; there was no point. Her anger was like a summer storm, wild and violent and over in a heartbeat. He’d seen enough to know that she’d be back in a few minutes, and all would be forgotten.
The fact that she could forgive so easily had surprised him. He had expected her to hate him, to never speak to him again. He had betrayed her. He had played his father’s game: travelling to the Kalika Forest, gaining her trust by saying he hated the Dasa, pretending to be broken and bleeding so she would come back to find him. It was an ugly charade, and it worked. Even after she escaped, she came back for him.
He closed his eyes for a moment and thought about his power animal, Shae, the grey hawk. Shae had told him her name when she first came to him on the Gilliba Plains, as the Dasa Warriors prepared to join the army of Moto. Shae made him understand that the battle was wrong, that the Dasa must side with Ballyndor. She had taught him to open his heart.
He told himself that he had crossed the mountains with Nima because Nima asked him to. He had always looked out for Nima: she was like a little sister to him. But deep down he knew this wasn’t the real reason. He had crossed the mountains because he wanted to see Indie.
Indie sat on the edge of the cliff and stared out at the ocean. How dare Jabar say Kai and Nima were gone. He hadn't seen what they could do. He knew nothing about magic. She let her frustration boil up inside until she was sure her blood was bubbling and her head was about to explode.
And then, when it seemed as if she would be angry for the rest of her days and nothing would ever feel good again, the anger broke over her in a wave and she felt nothing but relief. She had to find Kai and Nima. That was all that mattered.
For a moment she thought of the golden eagle, flying strong and free over the wild lands of Undaba.
No limits.
How could she have forgotten?
She climbed to her feet and ran down the hill to the trees, where the stream and the hut and the children waited for her.
How had Kai and Nima done it? Had they called their power animals? Was that the secret? She stood by the stream with her eyes closed and her arms spread. She imagined her golden eagle, wings outstretched, touching the sun. ‘Help me,’ she whispered. For a moment she thought she felt strong wings, sharp talons, but when she opened her eyes there was nothing.
Jabar put his hand on her shoulder, making her jump. She shook him off. Without a word, he pointed to the stream.
A mist was rising from the water. It swirled into a pattern of blue and red and gold, tiny droplets floating together to form the figure of a young woman. She drifted above the water, smiling down at them.
‘I have come, Emerald Child,’ she said, in a soft voice that blended with the murmur of the stream. ‘Do not be afraid. The water spirits have taken the boy sorcerer and the apiki flower to Nagara.’
‘Who are you?’ whispered Indie.
‘I am Ama, the spirit of the river.’
‘Are you the same as the other water spirits?’ asked Indie. ‘Will you hurt us?’
‘The other spirits are my handmaidens,’ said Ama. ‘Please don’t be angry with them. They are simple creatures who know only how to feel, not to think. When they saw the water turn cloudy and the fish die, it frightened them. They were filled with sadness, and that made them cling to the sadness of the children.’
‘But why hurt them?’ Indie was angry now. She understood that the spirits were sad, but that didn’t mean they could hurt people.
‘What about the sleeping children?’ asked Jabar. ‘In the caves? Why did the water spirits do that?’
Ama sighed. ‘While the children sleep, the water spirits feed on their sadness.’
‘What about the blisters?’ Indie's voice was rising.
‘I know you’ll have trouble believing this,’ said Ama, her face grave, ‘but the water spirits don’t mean to hurt the children. The power of their fear is so strong that it burns the children’s skin.’
Mari had stolen up behind them, and stood gazing at the river spirit. ‘Can you help my brother?’ she asked.
Ama shook her head. ‘The water spirits are beyond my control: their fear is too great. All I can do is show you the way to Nagara. You must find a way to heal the water; it is the only way to stop the fear and sadness.’
‘You can show us the way to Nagara?’ Indie’s eyes lit up. ‘Now?’
‘Right now,’ said Ama. She reached out a long misty arm. ‘Take my hand,’ she said.
Indie didn’t hesitate. She waded into the water, gasping as the
cold bit into her legs. There was no sign of the silver insects. Jabar was close behind her. She felt him grab her arm as she reached for the river spirit’s hand.
For a moment she could see and hear nothing. Time and space no longer existed. She wasn’t sure that she existed. The whole world had vanished and all that was left was this great emptiness, this void. The strange thing was, she didn’t feel frightened or lost or even alone. All she felt was peace, as if she was floating in a warm bath and everything was exactly as it should be.
And then the lights came on – sunlight, trickling down through the darkness – and she found herself squashed into a small curved space, her cheek pressed against a wall of packed dirt.
Jabar was crushed beside her, his big feet almost in her face. He was completely dry, his clothes dusty and his hair sprinkled with dirt. Indie looked down at her hands and realised she looked no better.
There was some kind of cover way up above them, where the sun was creeping through the cracks. A thick rope snaked down the wall, ending in a knot above her head. She reached up and tugged it. Dirt showered down into her mouth and eyes.
‘Argh,’ spluttered Jabar. ‘Stop!’
He brushed the dirt from his eyes and looked up. ‘We’re in a dry well,’ he said. ‘It must have been sealed up so no one would fall in.’
‘How do we get out?’ asked Indie.
‘Close your eyes and put your hand over your mouth,’ he said. ‘I’ll climb up and push the cover off.’ Taking the rope from her, he yanked on it a few times to test its strength and then began to climb, hand over hand, his feet against the wall.
‘Hey,’ he called when he reached the top of the well. ‘There’s a ledge up here. Come up. I need your help.’
Indie shimmied up the rope, until she reached Jabar’s feet. Then she climbed up beside him on the narrow ledge, using his body and the wall for balance.
Wedged against the dirt, they took turns to hammer and push at the boards that covered the mouth of the well.
