by S. S. Segran
The younglings have their path to walk, but are we not supposed to protect them where we can? What are we supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?
“Grandfather!”
Two youths in buckskin tunics hastened out from between the trees. Nageau hurriedly righted himself and smoothed his cloak. The pair came to an abrupt stop in front of him and Huyani took his face in her hands, her warm brown eyes already asking the question.
“Is it true, Grandfather?” she demanded. “Has Jag really been taken?”
Nageau covered one of her hands with his and gave a barely perceptible nod. Akol raked his fingers into his cropped black hair, shaking his head uncontrollably. “I could not believe it when Grandmother told us. How did this happen?”
Huyani let go of Nageau and put her arms around her brother. He buried his face in her raven locks, head still shaking. Nageau watched them with a pang. He knew his grandchildren had a special bond with the Chosen Ones—it was Huyani who’d nursed the friends back to health after their plane crash a year and a half ago; it was Akol who’d found them when they had run away in an attempt to return to their homes, and it was they who’d kept the younglings company when Dema-Ki was a foreign place to them.
He enfolded the siblings in an embrace, feeling their arms slide around him and pull him closer. “We will get him back,” he promised quietly. “We will find out where the harbinger has taken him and we will get him back. In the meantime, pray. That is all you can do.”
“Grandfather, I am willing to go into the outside world and do more than just pray,” Akol said, stepping back. “Let me join the Sentries. Let me help find a way to bring Jag back.”
“I commend your resolve, lad, but I do not think the outside world is where you need to be in the coming months.”
“Why not?”
“Please, Akol, do not dispute me.”
The youth held his chin up, then bowed stiffly. “I should go. My shift begins soon.”
Nageau watched his grandson’s broad back retreat into the trees. Huyani sidled up to the Elder. “You know he does not mean to defy you. He just wants to help.”
Nageau kissed her cheek. “I know, and he will. Just not out there. Not yet, at least.”
She straightened his cloak and fixed his hair, then jogged after Akol. As she disappeared, Nageau thought, They will both make fine Elders one day.
He rounded the assembly neyra and headed toward one of the wooden bridges crossing the river. He found Ashack leaning against a railing, overlooking the frozen water. Ashack surely heard his approaching footsteps but didn’t stir.
Nageau propped his elbows on the railing beside the muscular Elder. “Sometimes I come here to clear my head, too.”
“Are you here to talk about what happened yesterday?”
“I had not intended to cross paths with you, but yes, at some point we will need to speak about the incident. Ashack, that was not—”
“Hutar was evasive with his answers.”
“He swore on the souls of the two people he cared about most. Do you really think he would desecrate the names of his father and uncle?”
Ashack finally turned to Nageau, his gaze hard. “Daltair and Aydar were two of the best men I ever knew. I would like to think Hutar would not stoop to such vile levels to deceive us, but I do not know what to believe.”
“Ashack, you were there. Tikina looked him in the eyes and said he was telling the truth. And you know how perceptive she is. She cannot be lied to.”
“Maybe so, but did we ask the right questions?” Ashack pressed.
Nageau felt his mouth tighten. “What are you saying?”
Elated yelling rang from the direction of the Elders’ assembly neyra, to the men’s left. Magèo and Nal scampered into the trees away from the river toward the old man’s laboratory.
“Magèo!” Nageau boomed.
“We found the missing piece of the scroll!” Magèo hollered, turning around so he could address the Elders while walking backward in a hurry. “But most of the writing has faded so we must restore it! We have no time for idle chitchat!”
Nageau couldn’t get a reply out before mentor and apprentice scurried into the rectangular edifice and locked themselves in. This is good, the Elder thought. Hopefully we can soon see if we truly have cause to be concerned.
He touched Ashack’s forearm. “Please, my friend, continue.”
Ashack looked at the river again, picking at the slivers of wood on the railing. “I have a hunch I am working on. And if I am right, I will bring this back to the Elders.”
“What hunch?”
“Afford me this one ambiguity, Nageau. That is all I ask. When I have reached some level of certainty, you have my word that I will come forward with it.”
Nageau clasped his fingers together, deliberating. “Alright. But Ashack, your actions yesterday—”
“If I am wrong about Hutar, then I will apologize to the boy. As for now, I am not convinced that he is innocent.”
“Ashack, given what has transpired, an apology may not suffice. You know this. We do not assault the people we are meant to guide. It is not who we are. If you come back without evidence . . .”
The black-haired Elder shifted his head just slightly toward Nageau, but didn’t take his eyes off the river. “What?”
“If you come back without evidence, I will have no choice but to call for council about your position as an Elder.”
61
“You are not welcome here.”
Marshall and the others scrambled to their feet. The masked men and women strode toward them, and the group moved back. There was nowhere to go. Behind them was only a mile-long incline of basalt and hardened lava leading to the top of the mountain. The young woman who’d lifted her tribal mask raised a hand and the three looming elephants retreated a short distance, keeping watchful eyes on the humans. Two men stood beside the woman, holding up torches capped by twirling flames. All twenty silhouettes wore embroidered cotton vests and black pants with what resembled utility belts around their waists. Knife sheaths clung to their hips. They were lithe and toned, and their faces glimmered under the moonlight and the glow from their torches.
“I am Subira,” the woman said, her voice rich and strongly accented, “and as leading Watcher of Meru, I must ask you to leave.”
Before Marshall could stop her, Tegan went toe-to-toe with the woman. “Last I checked, this isn’t exactly off-limits.”
“This is hallowed ground for my people. No one is allowed here.”
“Folks go up and down this mountain all the time.”
“Not this side.” Subira’s face was as icy as her tone. “I knew the moment I saw you that you were trouble. I’ve seen your type, American tourists who walk like you own these ancient grounds, desecrating it with your arrogant footsteps.”
“We’re not tourists!” Tegan asserted. “We have reason—”
“If you’re not tourists, then you’re here for the scarce blue garnet of Meru. The mountain has no more to offer. You and your people have stolen enough.”
“What blue gar—”
“There is no more left! Now go! All of you! Leave!” Subira raised her arm again and this time the elephants lifted their trunks and trumpeted in an angry chorus.
Marshall balked at the titanic display but kept his voice soft and even as he addressed the young woman. “Please, we mean no disrespect to you or your people. We have no interest in any treasure.” He thought he saw a flicker of understanding on Subira’s face, and took a few wary steps toward her. The men on either side of her reached for the knives on their belts. The Sentry held up his hands. “Whoa, hey, easy. We don’t want any trouble. We—”
Subira whipped out her own blade and swung it under his chin. “I don’t care what you are, or aren’t. You will leave, cooperatively or otherwise.”
The flat edge of the cold steel pressed against Marshall’s skin and its tip nicked his throat. Subira locked eyes with him. Despite how fierce she
was and how royal she appeared, the Sentry couldn’t help but be taken aback by her youth. She was barely older than the teenagers beside him.
“Put the knife down,” Tegan warned.
“Are you giving me an order, girl?” Subira jerked her blade away from Marshall’s throat and hoisted it high above her head. The elephants flapped their ears and stomped, the tremors sending vibrations up Marshall’s legs. The ring of torch-bearing Watchers parted, creating a flickering path from the imposing animals to the teenagers and Sentries.
“Uh, guys?” Aari said under his breath. “I don’t like this.”
The leading elephant tossed its trunk and all three reared up on their hind legs. Marshall instinctively herded the group up the rocky incline. He kept a grip on Kody so the sick boy wouldn’t lag behind. The elephants collectively slammed the ground, sending out another quake. Marshall didn’t get the chance to shout a warning before the massive animals charged. The group yelled, trying to scramble up the incline, but none of them moved fast enough. The elephants were within striking distance when Tegan suddenly broke away from the group.
“What are you doing?” Mariah screamed.
Tegan swept forward, unleashing a wordless roar. The leading animal slowed, as did the other two, and stopped directly in front of the girl. She stared up at them. They drew themselves to their full height and peered down at her, almost as if confused. Then, Marshall watched with unbridled astonishment as the first elephant kneeled on its front legs in front of Tegan. Behind it, the two other elephants followed its example.
“Attagirl, Teegs,” Aari said, barely above a whisper.
Tegan’s reply carried an air of shock. “I didn’t do it.”
“I don’t understand. You’re not controlling any of them?
“No. I was too slow to link with them. They . . . they bowed on their own.”
The Watchers seemed at a loss. Subira’s dark eyes widened but she quickly smoothed her face. She walked up to the leading elephant, commanding it to stand tall once more.
“It seems the elephants have decided to spare you,” she said. “But it’s just a short reprieve. You cannot stay here. If you don’t leave, then this time I will make sure they don’t stop.”
She finished her statement with a flourish and turned her back to the group. As she did, the torches illuminated the three triangles behind her ear. Marshall heard a strangulated gasp from his right and Dominique came forward with her walking stick. He connected telepathically with her. Domi, what are you doing?
I know that symbol—that tattoo.
What?
Out loud, Dominique repeated, “I know that symbol! Behind your ear!”
Subira tilted her head slightly, then pivoted to stand eyeball-to-eyeball with Dominique. Disbelievingly, almost threateningly, she pointed to the ink on her skin. “You claim to know this?”
Dominique widened her stance. To anyone else she would have appeared confident, but Marshall knew her well enough to notice a quiver of uncertainty in her movements.
“Adiha kilazi,” Dominique intoned.
Subira looked as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. “Say that again?”
“Adiha kilazi.”
Subira echoed the words, breathless. She stared unblinkingly at Dominique for the longest time, then gathered her people away from the group. Marshall couldn’t hear anything save for a rustle of urgent words foreign to his ears. He sent a thought to Dominique. What’s going on? What did you tell them?
Marshall, I don’t know how, but it may have come full circle.
That’s not really clearing anything up. Whatever you just said, it shook Subira. Her friends look glitched, too.
Do you remember when I served in the village in the DRC? Where the disease first broke out?
Yes . . .
The medicine man whispered those words to me but I had no idea what it meant. He had contracted the disease so I thought it was his fevered mind spouting gibberish. He said that he wished he hadn’t deserted his ancestors and prayed for them to forgive him. A few days later, he went into a coma and succumbed to the disease. He had the exact same symbol behind his ear—the three triangles. I had no clue what he meant, but after seeing Subira’s tattoos, I’d hoped that maybe . . . maybe the phrase would trigger something.
You were betting on two words no one knows the meaning of?
It was worth a try. At this point, we have nothing to lose.
The Watchers fell into a semi-circle around the Sentries and teenagers, Subira at the center. “A stranger who knows this august phrase that belongs only to our people is not to be taken lightly.” Her posture softened only a little, and in a tone that said she suspected the answer, she asked, “Why are you here?”
“We’re searching for a box of ancient seeds,” Tegan said cautiously. “As far as we know, its last location was somewhere here, in a cave.”
Subira considered the group thoroughly, her fingertips pressed against her lips. “This knowledge is not known to anyone but our people. Maybe you are the ones our ancestors spoke of.”
“You were expecting us?”
“We didn’t know who to expect, or when. For scores of generations, all my people knew was that we had to guard an artifact entrusted to us by—”
“Lucius?” Aari cut in.
Subira spun toward him. “I was going to say a revered soul. How do you know this?”
“I-I don’t think it’s my place to explain. But I know about Lucius. And I know about Carmel, who planted a tree that could save—did save—many lives. She died protecting it. Lucius burned the tree to honor her last wish, and lived on for years before passing the seeds to a man he considered a son, with instructions to keep it safe and never plant another tree.”
The men and women beside Subira removed their masks, mesmerized. Subira lifted her head to the sky and Marshall thought he saw tears shimmering in the moonlight. She dragged in a long breath, then said, “For nearly two thousand years, our people wondered if there would ever be a day when what we have protected would come to light. We’ve never wavered a hair’s breadth from the promise we made to Carmel and Lucius.”
Marshall was floored. Carmel and Lucius must’ve had an incredible impact to have been worthy of a promise that spanned centuries, he thought. Not just for the seeds they brought, but the people they were. Pride stirred within him at the notion that he was, in some way, distantly related to Carmel. I wish I could know more about her, the final Keeper of the Seeds.
“Will you help us, then?” he asked Subira. “More and more people are dying every day and these seeds are our last hope.”
For the first time, Subira smiled. It wasn’t bright or wholly warm, but it was a smile and Marshall could get behind that.
“Yes,” she said.
* * *
The western face of Meru trembled with every impact. A large log with the trunks of two of the elephants coiled around it rammed the rock again and again. Subira had guided them to a spot not far from where the teenagers and Sentries made camp, claiming that the concealed cave lay just below the surface.
The elephants worked tirelessly until at last the basalt cracked and loosened, revealing a gaping black hole. Subira, torch in hand, reverently led the teenagers and Sentries inside while the rest of the Watchers stood guard near the entrance. Marshall brought up the rear, following Subira’s measured pace. The cave was musty and oddly warm, barely big enough for the seven of them as they encircled a granite pedestal at the center. Upon it rested what appeared to be a tan, claylike box. Carved into the top was a row of three triangles, matching Subira’s tattoo exactly.
Firelight swayed on the walls, warping shadows. Marshall stood behind the rest, arms crossed, wanting to believe that they were at the end but too wary to be optimistic. Is this really it? After everything—Israel, Egypt, Sudan, now Tanzania—is this the final stop?
He regarded the teenagers and figured they were wondering the same thing. They looked on, hushed, as Subir
a removed a small reed tube from a pouch on her belt and uncorked it. Her hand hovered above the clay casing, shaking. Dominique touched her shoulder. Subira’s hand steadied. She tilted the tube and clear liquid poured out onto the exterior of the box. The claylike material began to dissolve as the drops hit, crumbling like wet sand until all that remained was a wooden box clad in brass with faded engravings. Marshall immediately recognized the carvings as those on the teenagers’ pendants.
Subira delicately lifted the box. “If what lies within this is truly destined to save humanity, then Carmel’s vision for the seeds and Lucius’s unwavering commitment after her passing will not have been in vain. Under the watchful eye of Kilimanjaro, in the bosom of Meru, this box has been hidden for nearly two thousand years. Now, it will see the light again. We . . . we never thought this day would come. Not in our lifetime.”
Her gaze glided across the group, alighting on Dominique. “Adiha kilazi,” she whispered, handing the box to the Sentry. “Bound by providence.”
Dominique took the box as if it was the most priceless of gemstones. “Thank you, Subira.”
The young woman led them back outside. Her people clamored to catch a glimpse of the box, speaking in elated undertones. No one could peel their eyes from the treasure until Tegan snapped out of the trance. “We need to plant one of the seeds. Kody needs this.”
Marshall came back to himself. “But we can’t wait here for it to grow. We need to head to Dema-Ki and hand the seeds to Magèo.” He found Kody watching them mutely behind the throng, then said, “What if we plant a seed in one of our bags? Then we can take it with us while we find a way out of Africa.”
“That Cessna isn’t gonna carry us across the ocean,” Aari pointed out.
“If I may,” Subira interjected, “Cape Town still offers select flights out of the continent. I don’t know where you intend to go, but that would be your best option.”
