The group entered the cave. There was little light available inside, allowing them to navigate through it. They treaded unhurriedly, unable to shake off caution due to the dark. It was then they discovered something that stupefied their nerves.
Twenty metres into the cave, they faced a dead end.
***
Dead end. Was that it? No axe?
“All right,” said Manu, feeling the cave’s wall with his hands. “Where’s the axe Sezia told us about?”
“It’s not there,” Viven muttered, more to himself than the others. “We came all the way for . . .”
Nothing.
“But that can’t be possible,” said Bufo. “Can it?”
In exasperation, Aunt Gina threw a stone at the dead end wall.
“Ouch!”Manu gasped as it bounced back, hitting his arm.
“Sorry. Hey, wait a minute!”
A faint golden outline of an arch was appearing on the wall.
“What’s going on?” Viven said, awestruck.
“This is strange,” said Bufo.
The outline expanded into that of a door, and a hole formed in the centre. Peculiarly, no debris ensued from the process.
In a short while, they were staring down the archway into a great chamber. And Viven couldn’t help but think its maker had been the most lavish spender of all. The chamber’s ceiling and walls and floor and its every nook and every corner were gilded with gold. What’s more, even the alighted torches were of gold.
At the centre of this mesmerizing chamber was a giant bird’s upturned claw—made of gold—that held something in its grasp.
The something it held was an axe.
Feeling a mystic presence at work, they went inside and to the claw that had the axe.
“By the hopping tadpoles!” Bufo exclaimed, joyous. “This is the almighty axe Acario! That Sezia spirit was right about the axe’s location, but wait, how do we get it out?”
He tried to slip his large meaty hand through the slim gaps between the golden fingers. It didn’t come as a surprise when that proved impossible.
“Let me try,” said Viven. He squeezed his right hand through the largest gap the claw had; however, all he could do was touch the axe and nothing else.
At that moment, Viven had to jerk back his hand as the claw came to life.
“Hey!” he said, watching it move its digits like a living claw and open. “What was that?”
“Anyhow,” said Bufo. “It’s been a help, has it not?” He seized the axe and scanned it with his eyes. “Let’s go back; I want to examine this in daylight.”
Once outside, Bufo set about examining the gleaming axe, gluing his eyes to it, holding it as one would hold a newborn baby.
“Pure Beaxtonix,” he whispered, running his fingers over the hilt of the axe. “See how it shines! No gold can shine like this.”
“It’s not made of gold?” Viven asked.
“No,” Bufo replied. “It’s made of Beaxtonix, a special powder of the Potion Makers that can be given any shape, though it is most difficult to concoct.”
Beaxtonix, Viven thought. Grandcawk mentioned Soul-Splitters too were made of it. He felt his grandfather’s necklace around his neck with his hand. He had almost forgotten about it; he pulled his collar up, ensuring the Splitter would remain well hidden. Grandcawk had appeared wise enough, and it was best he heeded his words.
“This axe is very powerful,” said Bufo. “There is even an old saying that Acario can destroy everything in the world except its handler. Anyway, take it.” Bufo offered Viven the axe.
“Didn’t you say it belongs to the Potion Makers?” Viven said, hesitant.
“Well, yes. But you better carry it for now. You can give it to me once the sword is destroyed.”
“Okay,” said Viven, taking the axe.
“Now,” said Bufo aloud, “I have an idea to get us down to the foot and fast.”
“What sort of idea?” Aunt Gina asked, looking quizzical.
“Ummm,” Bufo’s idea seemingly was difficult to explain. “Look, I would hold you all, curl into a ball, and roll down the hill.”
“That’s,” said Manu, eyes wide, “a crazy idea!”
“I agree,” said Viven, sceptical it would ever work and if they would be alive to know if it did.
“But it would get us to the temple faster,” said Dirita, whose face was still tear-stained from all the sobbing she had done for her cat. “And then we can destroy the sword and the spirit could come and help us find Mr. Mekuri.”
Viven looked from Dirita to Manu to Aunt Gina, the latter two not anywhere near as enthusiastic as the former. He asked Bufo, “Have you ever tried anything like that before?”
“Not really,” said Bufo, dismissive as if the question wasn’t much important. “Although I am one hundred percent sure it is fated to work.”
Viven gulped.
Five minutes later, he found himself squeezed with the rest, Bufo’s great belly around him. Bufo had curled up and was rolling down the hill with no restrains. Viven could but entertain a sole thought in his head—it was crazy.
Bufo pulled on his brakes, hands to be precise, just as they reached the foot of the hill. With brute force, he steered himself clear of any obstacle tree.
When all movement stopped, Viven heard Bufo moan.
“That was easy, wasn’t it?” And then the frog lord broke into boyish giggles, which sounded like coughing.
***
With all his magical might, he bonded the jinn to the entrance.
“From now on,” he said, struggling to speak as the jinn tried to resist the spell, “you will protect it till the end of eternity unless . . .”—he gritted his teeth. He didn’t want this part, but there was no other way around it—“unless they genuinely impress you.”
The Guardian
Bufo uncurled himself, releasing them. Viven’s temples throbbed even as he took in plentiful gulps of air, the surge of adrenaline calming by now. The rolling had been wild, but yes, it had also been successful. Not only had they been able to save hours’ worth of time, but they were alive and in good form too.
“I think we can rest for some time,” Bufo snorted, very much exhausted.
“No,” said Viven, almost surprising himself considering how tired he was, willing himself to get up from his squatted position.
“Why on earth shouldn’t we rest, Viven?” Manu protested.
“I agree with him,” said Aunt Gina. “We should get moving.”
“Bufo,” said Viven, “didn’t you say the temple of Brene has no entrance? So don’t you think it will take some time finding a way in?”
If there is one.
Bufo blew a sigh.“I hate to admit it—you are right.”
The ride to the temple was far clumsier than the previous rides had been. Drained from the roll down the hill, Bufo struggled to manoeuvre himself. Viven cursed himself for preventing him from taking some much required rest. However, much like Bufo, he hated to admit it himself: he was right. If they rested, they would lose precious time, and he in no way wanted to keep searching for an entrance into the temple till the night.
If they were ever to get out of the Tropagian forest, it had to be today. Tonight he meant to have a good night’s sleep in his bed at Aunt Gina’s place back in Tempstow village.
They had come close to the temple of Brene by now. It was a mere two hundred metres away, the river Brank flowing by it. Then, as Bufo was about to land to take one final mighty leap, a costly glitch came as a fallen tree.
Everyone screamed. Just as Bufo’s feet came over the trunk, it rolled and slipped away. Bufo toppled to the ground, bringing his four passengers down with him. He tossed them off, and they landed roughly onto the forest floor.
As scratches and bruises burnt all over his body, Viven limped up. For a moment, his eyes rested over the muddy waters of the river. He blinked when he thought he saw some kind of red illumination under the water.
It disappeared the
next second.
Shaking his head, he turned to the others. They were slowly getting up to their feet, their faces solemn.
“My bad,” Bufo grunted. “But I’m all spent!”
“What now?” said Aunt Gina, holding her right arm, which seemed hurt.
“Are you okay, Aunt Gina?” Viven asked her.
“Will do with it,” she replied, wincing.
“And you two?” he asked Manu and Dirita, who groaned their affirmative answers.
“Let’s continue, then,” he said.
Hobbling the remaining way, they arrived at the temple.
It was nothing spectacular to view, not when compared to all the other things they had witnessed in Tropagia. In fact, it was only as majestic as any other old desolated ruin. Merely a pyramidal structure carved out from stone.
For a long time, they kept staring at the temple, trying to devise a way in.
“This is impossible!” a frustrated Aunt Gina said, giving up. “No one can get inside this thing!”
“And we cannot break in either,” Bufo added. “Many have tried, and every single one failed; you see, there is a rumour that a lifetime’s worth of wealth is there inside this temple, though, you are the first mouths from which I have heard that the sword resides in it—Hey!”
The small group turned, alert, when they heard a mysterious Crack! that appeared to come from within the temple itself. What followed was stranger: an incantation by an unseen tongue that could have belonged to the air itself.
“Let the temple open!” the voice hissed so that the hair on Viven’s neck stood on their ends, an iciness stirring in his stomach. Something was at play here, and he didn’t know what sort of result it would produce.
Mystic carvings and shapes appeared on the walls of the temple, odd shapes of insects and worms and larvae. Most of the bugs brandished weapons as though they were sentinels guarding the temple.
When the figures stopped popping out of the walls, Bufo said, the awe in his voice obvious, “Whose voice was that? And what are these shapes? I don’t know, but I feel like it’s through them that we can somehow enter the temple.”
“Maybe they form a puzzle we need to solve, don’t you think?” said Aunt Gina.
“Maybe,” said Bufo, peering at the shapes, “though I can’t see what sort of puzzle it is or how it should be solved.”
As Viven observed the bugs, he noticed a particular wasp that was pointing its sword at its own neck. The other insects too had their weapons drawn at dramatic angles, but the wasp was the sole one that seemed intent upon killing itself.
“Wait a minute,” Viven said, and approached the wasp.
“What are you up to, Viven?” said Aunt Gina.
“Don't go too close,” said Bufo. “It could be dangerous.”
“Wait,” said Viven. “I think I’ve got something here.” Checking whether the wasp’s tiny sword was moveable and finding it so, he inverted it.
An invisible boost of power hit Viven hard on the chest, and he was thrown off his feet. Hearing screams, he clumsily turned to see the others on the ground as well.
“Urgh!” he moaned, scrambling back to his feet and backing away from the temple with caution.
“Didn’t I tell you?” said Bufo, lifting himself sluggishly. “What were you doing—?”
“Look there!”Viven pointed at the temple in glee. In front of it, a large hole had appeared on the ground, its diameter over six metres. A whooshing sound was coming from it as though a strong gale blew inside it.
Viven went and peered into it. He had expected anything but what met his eyes.
A giant of a man frowned back at him; he was thrice the size of the frog lord himself, the hole only almost fitting him. What quivered Viven’s core, though, was the giant’s lower body. Instead of legs, it was of thick white smoke that retained the shape of a cone.
“What’s in there?” Manu asked as the rest of them, too, rushed to his side. But Viven needn’t answer them, for the next moment, they had seen the giant as well, and their bewilderment matched his, if not surpassing.
“I am the guardian of the temple.” The giant spoke in a roaring voice, jingling the load of jewellery about his neck. “Without my permission, naught shall enter the sacred domain.”
“O guardian of the temple,” said Bufo, trying to keep his face composed, but failing. “We seek your approval. Would you let us enter? I request you.”
“Yeah,” said Viven, daring himself to speak. “We need to take the sword.”
The giant pondered a few moments, and then said, “Whether you need it or want it, I do not know; however, it is my duty to guard it, and I shall. Only on one condition should I allow you to set foot inside the temple.”
“And what’s it?” squeaked Manu.
“Impress it on me you are worthy of possessing a weapon of such power and dignity,” the giant stated.
“How?” Bufo asked.
“I do not know, but I assure you that you do not impress me by questioning myself how I ought to be impressed.” The giant said it all with a severe frown, and Bufo looked humbled.
Viven didn’t go about impressing giants daily back in Tempstow, and he was in a fix regarding how to impress this one. What’s more, he couldn’t shake off the feeling either that they weren’t worthy of possessing the sword, for they would destroy it once they brought it out of the temple.
Viven nearly dropped the axe Acario from his hands when he heard Aunt Gina speak in a voice that radiated only confidence. “Guardian,” she said, “you are a prisoner, aren’t you? Made to guard the temple and the sword from time immemorial?”
“Yes,” the giant confessed in a lower tone. “I was imprisoned here many years ago by a man with many powers. I resent it, but I cannot go away.”
“Then,” said Aunt Gina curtly, and Viven saw the coolness in her eyes, one he didn’t reckon ever seeing earlier, “what if we free you once we have the sword?”
This time it was the giant’s jaw that fell open.
“Yeah, yeah,” Bufo chimed in. “We’ll do it; we’ll free you!”
But Viven was looking at Aunt Gina. Her face was gleaming with a wild excitement, one that gave him cramps in the stomach. Something was off with Aunt Gina. The Aunt Gina back in the village had been different.
“Well,” said the giant, utter disbelief written over his dark face. “Well, I think you can have the sword then. You are quite worthy of possessing it.”
***
The Temple of Brene
“I will disappear now,” the giant told them. “Then you will have to jump into this hole.” Seeing the bewildered expressions that had come over the others at the mention of the word “jump,” the giant added, “Do not worry. Once you jump, you will not be harmed. Rather, you would find yourselves inside the temple.” And with that, he yelled something only he understood, leaving their ears temporarily deaf, and was gone.
Once his ears recovered, Viven asked the others, “So, let’s jump, huh?”
“I am not sure if we’ll still have our arms and bones together down there,” Manu said, sceptical.
“We’ll be . . . killed,” Dirita said in a small voice.
“No,” said Aunt Gina. “I don’t think so. The guardian wants to be free, which he cannot if we die.”
“Well, then,” said Bufo, all but looking relieved that the giant had vanished. “Let’s jump. Do it on the count of three: One, two, three!”
Together they jumped into the hole. Barely had they done so when their feet touched floor, and the surroundings transformed into that of an ancient golden room—
It was the temple of Brene.
***
A strange source-less light enveloped the temple that, although had appeared rather small from outside, was twice the size of its outwardly appearance inside.
Precious jewels littered the temple floor like pebbles—diamonds, sapphires, rubies, pearls, and whatnot. However, all these went in ignorance as their eyes were captiv
ated by what rested on the large altar in front of them.
The sword Navarion.
The blade had detailed shapes of men and insects carved on it. The sword was made of a peculiar quality of gold that had a liquid-like appearance, such that the shapes almost seemed to move.
For a long time, they gazed at the sword, huddling around the altar, not wanting to tear their eyes off it; then Aunt Gina broke the silence.
“Destroy it, Viven,” she said, and Viven thought her voice sounded more like a hiss. “Destroy it.”
Destroy it? The sword was beautiful, such that all Viven wanted to do at that moment was keep staring at it, enjoying its charm. He felt like he was losing the heart to destroy it, and wait, there was a second thing to it too—
“Hey,” said Bufo. “Viven cannot destroy it right away. We need to free the guardian, remember?”
“Destroy it!” Aunt Gina shouted.
“Aunt Gina?” Viven said, giving her a caring look. He wondered if something was bothering her, or maybe she just wanted to get done with the chore and return to Tempstow.
“Yeah, Mum,” said Manu. “What’s the hurry? Let’s get out of here first.”
Right at that moment, something happened; Viven could not grasp exactly what, but something did. It was like as if an invisible wave of some sort had just passed them.
Just like that, over five minutes passed. The others fell quiet. Quiet as if the gift of speech had been taken from them. Viven couldn’t understand, a tad bit of anxiety stirring within him. He tried to turn and look at the others. He couldn’t! It was then it dawned upon him as he remembered the similar experience back in the House of the Macacawks with Grandcawk. This had to be the same.
This was a time freeze.
“Yes, it is,” a man’s voice said.
A man appeared behind the altar. He wore black robes, the helm touching the floor; around fifty years of age, the man’s build was medium, and his face was familiar. Also, his right ear was almost double his left, reminding Viven of himself. But the most striking thing about his appearance was that he was translucent, so that Viven could see through him at the blurry wall behind.
“Grandpa Algrad!” Viven muttered in disbelief, aware he wasn’t opening his mouth at all “How?”
The Sword of Tropagia (The Advisor Trilogy Book 1) Page 11
