When Hanner got in the train, the entire thing shifted from his weight as if it might tip over. Hanner was forced to hunch over even more than normal in order to fit under the low ceiling. “I guess they didn’t have Iberians in mind when they designed it.”
Captain Evere stepped in and looked around at the hateful glances coming at them from all directions. “I think that’s just their way of making outsiders know they ain’t welcome here, lad.”
“I probably should have asked earlier, but is anyone here from an island feuding with Sutor?” Privet asked discreetly.
“I sure hope not,” Ryin mentioned, grabbing a handrail.
“Everybody’s feuding nowadays, lad,” Captain Evere lamented.
With everyone aboard, the transparent doors were closed by attendants and the train silently glided along its rails of light through the city. They passed beautiful towers and arches, observation domes and fancy hotels. And yet behind it all were gaunt faces, hardened souls. Strangers sitting next to one another, all fearful of their neighbors. The people were easily startled, quick to judge, slow to forgive, reluctant to connect. A crowd as tightly packed together as packaged fish, but each somehow lonely in the crowd.
Setsuna glared at Athel and Privet from where she sat. Athel pointed out the window and rested her hand on his broad shoulder, her face hovering just inches from his neck. For just a moment, Athel glanced over at Setsuna, making sure she knew she was doing it on purpose.
Setsuna ground her teeth.
Athel took out a pastry and offered Privet a bite. When he politely declined, she jammed it in his mouth, spilling cream down his chin. Athel laughed louder than necessary as he cleaned himself up.
Setsuna, unable to take any more, got up and walked to the far end of the train, where Alder was sitting with Ryin and Hanner, leaning how to play one of their card games. Alder seemed slower than before, even sluggish, as if the cards were heavy in his grip.
“It’s not like I care or anything, but are you really okay with your wife acting like this?” Setsuna asked, pointing behind herself with her thumb.
“How is she acting?” Alder asked, picking up his cards without looking up.
“She’s fawning all over him like a giddy little podling, and where did she get that pastry anyway?”
“I made it for her, it is one of Privet’s favorites,” Alder answered frankly.
Setsuna’s green eyes grew wide with amazement. “How can you be so calm about this?”
Alder leaned over and glanced up at Athel and Privet flirting at the other end of the train. “As the future head of a Braihmin class family, Lady Forsythia will need several husbands to manage such a large household.”
“Her mother has five of ‘em,” Ryin commented without looking up from his cards.
Alder laid a card down onto the little pile on the floor. “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind the assistance of a second husband. I am having difficulty keeping up with my duties as of late.”
Setsuna threw up her arms. “But, she’s practically cheating on you, right in front of you!”
Alder looked at her oddly. “Lady Forsythia does not require my permission to court other men. Technically speaking, it is impossible for her to ‘cheat’ on me.”
Setsuna looked around at all of them as if they were crazy.
“I know how you feel,” Mina sympathized. “I’m not used to it either.”
Setsuna stomped her foot. “Ugh, you Wysterians are just impossible to deal with!”
“Have you considered the fact that out of everyone in this room, the only one upset is you?” Alder pointed out as he drew a new card.
“What do you mean?”
“Perhaps it is you that needs to change and not us.”
Setsuna clucked her tongue then took a step back and disappeared. She reappeared on top of the train where she sat pouting, much to the dismay and shock of the Sutorian passengers.
“You are different now, aren’t you, Alder?” Mina purred, looking him over.
“In a good way, I hope,” Alder answered.
“Oh yes, very good. I like it when a man sticks up for his beliefs,” Mina praised, jabbing Captain Evere with her elbow.
“I thank you for the compliment, but those are not my beliefs, they are simply the reality of my existence,” Alder clarified, shuffling his cards.
“So, what are your beliefs?” Mina asked, leaning in curiously.
“My beliefs are of no consequence,” Alder stated, laying down another card.
“Indulge me then, sweetie.”
Alder sighed and folded his cards in his hand. “I’d really rather not.”
“Please,” she bade, batting her large, lavender eyes.
Alder straightened himself. “May I assume your discretion if I do?”
“Not a chance,” Ryin snickered.
“Then I would prefer not to,” Alder restated. “I do not want to cause my wife any distress should it reach her ear.”
Mina slapped Ryin on the back of the head.
“Okay, fine,” Ryin reluctantly agreed.
Discretion assured, Alder breathed slowly and with some difficulty. “I believe that the heart can love without limits. It is like having children, you do not love one less just because you have another. You are able to love each of them with all your heart. You can give each of them one hundred percent of your love without having to divide it between them. Likewise, a Matron can take on a second husband without loving the first any less. That is what the heart is like.”
Alder paused. “However, it does make me feel insufficient, as if I am not enough to make her happy. It makes me feel as though I am doing something wrong. It is almost as if I should be apologizing for not being what she wants. It makes me feel like she needs more than I am able to give her in order to feel satisfied.”
Mina placed her hand on Alder’s shoulder. “Then why not say something to her?”
“Because...”
“Because what?”
“Because I want her to be happy, even if it is not with me.”
The passengers on the D-trolley were even less happy than the train passengers had been. The trolley ran on traditional rails down into the caves beneath the city, and threatened to topple over anytime Hanner didn’t stand in the exact center of the aisle between the two rows of seats.
“Their money is so tiny here,” Ryin criticized as he looked at his change as he stepped off the trolley. Privet jumped down and looked around, only to have Athel latch onto one arm and Setsuna latch onto the other. While the two young women glared at each other, Alder passed out sandwiches from a basket he had brought.
The atmosphere was quite different down in the caves. The air was moist. Water occasionally pattered on them from the ceiling far above, cold and clean water filtered naturally through layers of limestone. The only light was a pale blue coming off of mushrooms that grew on the walls. They were round and puffy with a broken skin like a cooked biscuits. The light they gave off was soothing, and when Athel placed her free hand on one to talk to them, they were friendly and congenial towards her.
And yet, beyond it all, somewhere just beyond the edge of hearing, there was a kind of distant rumble. A stomping of thousands of feet and a smothered roar of thousands of voices. So faint it felt like a trick of the senses, forcing you to crane your head this way and that to verify whether or not you had really heard anything.
Athel stepped up and placed her hand on one of the mushrooms and closed her eyes for a moment. “They say the temple is this way,” she announced proudly.
“Oh, big deal,” Setsuna criticized, pointing over to a marquee. “There’s a sign right there, anyone who can read could've figured that out.”
“Does the sign tell you the secret password to enter, oh well-traveled one?” Athel taunted.
“Well...no, but...”
“I thought so,” Athel said, flicking her hair behind her so that the tips whipped Setsuna in the nose.
Setsuna folded h
er arms and grumbled beneath her breath. “I don’t need a password I can gate straight in. Try doing that with one of your mustard seeds.”
The group set out into the labyrinthine tunnels. Before long, they were following trails clearly not often used by the locals. The rocks became slipperier; sharper. Long sections with few mushrooms forced them to strike a lantern to find their way. One crossroad was flooded, and would have forced them all to ford across had not Setsuna made a gate for them. Of course, she waited until Athel was down to her hips in the water before suggesting it.
At length they came to a T-shaped intersection. A small monk with a shaved head calmly swept the end of a wooden bridge that spanned an underground river. As they approached him, they felt an ominous sensation as they looked out across the river. There was no other bank, at least that they could see. The bridge simply faded into the darkness beyond as if it ceased to exist. Even when Hanner shone his lamp into the darkness beyond, nothing new was revealed, as if the light were being consumed somehow.
“Waytaishi ua, shikzu kesasa o’ motoi maeru kenkyo na’ tabi bitodesu Kohta,” Athel announced to the monk.
The man’s eyes grew wide with surprise. His eyes flickered towards the bridge. For a moment they all wondered if he might make a run for it. But, he straightened his robes and bowed to them.
“My name is Gomtah,” he said in a thickly accented common. “I will be happy to be your guide into stillness.”
Gomtah turned and walked onto the bridge, disappearing into the darkness. The others looked at each other apprehensively, then followed him.
As they crossed the bridge, the mist seemed to give way before them, and gather again behind them. Only a few steps in, and they could no longer see where they had come from. The bridge seemed to go on forever. It felt like the world only partially existed here. There was the rumbling clear water beneath them, the solid bridge, but beyond that, there was nothing. No cave walls, no dripping water from above. It was a little disconcerting, so they made conversation to distract themselves.
“I’m kind of surprised you'd allow foreigners in here,” Captain Evere commented. “The city above didn’t exactly roll out a red carpet for us, if you know what I mean.”
“My order has few ties with the city above, and they rarely come here anymore,” Gomtah explained. “Our policy is that the worship of Kotah does not belong to any one race. The path of light belongs to us all.”
“I must admit, I find your policy unusual,” Athel admitted. “Refreshing, but unusual.”
Gomtah stopped at a point on the bridge where a small stone receptacle stood at the center. When Athel glanced inside, it contained several coins.
“What is this, a donation box?” Hanner asked, peering inside.
“This is Uladhi, the well of greed, you must strip yourselves of wealth before you may proceed,” Gomtah explained.
“We get it back at the end, right?” Ryin questioned.
Gomtah paused. “If you plan to take up your greed again, then why lay it down?”
Athel emptied her pockets and followed Goomtah. Reluctantly, the others followed her example. When Ryin tried to pass, there was a flash of light and he was thrown backwards. They could now see that there was a wall of manoi that had been invisible to them before. It stretched out in all directions as it disappeared into the mist. Hard angles of energy criss-crossed its surface like a hedge maze.
“Looks like they take this stuff pretty seriously around here,” Ryin groaned as he came to his feet. He tapped the wall a couple of times with his finger. “I guess I'll have to wait here for you guys.”
Ryin sat down and pulled out his playing cards as the others proceeded. Soon he was gone as the mist gathered behind them.
The next receptacle contained a few pocket knives.
“This is Aniputo, the well of aggression, you must strip yourselves of your weapons before you may proceed.”
Gomtah watched in smothered shock as swords, rifles, a staff, sabers, musketoons, cutlass, and blunderbuss, filled the receptacle to brimming. With no more room, the final few weapons had to be leaned up against it.
“Just what were you planning on doing with those?” Gomtah asked in amazement.
“Don’t really see the point in all this,” Hanner grumbled as he set down his volley-gun. “In a pinch, anything can be used as a weapon. Even the most innocent thing. A chair, a stick, even a rock.”
“The point is not to lay down your weapons, but your intent to use them,” Gomtah explained.
As they walked forward, another wall of manoi flashed to life, and Hanner was barred from proceeding.
“Buncha racist swill if you ask me,” Hanner groused as he leaned up against the railing and pulled out a rib-bone to chew on. “We Iberians consider aggression to be the highest virtue, you know?”
Again they pressed on, and Hanner was gone.
The next receptacle was empty except for a small sharpened stone and a saucer containing a few drops of blood.
“This is Nahatoi, the well of anger. If any of you have unkind feelings towards each other, they must be left behind before you may proceed.”
Everyone turned to glare at Setsuna.
“Why is everyone looking at me?” She asked sweetly.
Athel took the stone and made a small cut on her thumb, allowing a drop of amber-colored blood to drip down into the saucer. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward along with Gomtah.
Captain Evere and Mina looked at each other apprehensively. Their marriage had been rocky for some time, and while they had made progress, the thought that some smoldering ember of anger remained and was about to be exposed in front of everybody was obviously disconcerting to them.
Mina reached out for the stone, but Captain Evere caught her hand and held it tightly.
“We'll go together, woman,” he said.
Mina nodded, her lavender eyes fearful, but loyal.
Holding hands, Captain Evere and Mina closed their eyes and stepped forward through the invisible wall and were not denied. They opened their eyes, first in surprise, then in relief. They embraced each other warmly, and whispered reassuringly to one another.
The others passed through, then turned around. Privet had not followed them.
“Do you not wish to proceed?” Gomtah asked.
“Look, I don’t need any mystical wall to tell me what is in my heart,” Privet admitted. “I've still got a lot of things to work out. I know that. In the meantime, I'll stay back here and keep a lookout for you guys.”
Athel was visibly impressed. He acknowledges his shortcomings without any shame. He really is so different now.
Gomtah nodded appreciatively. “The first step towards purity is to honestly recognize the impurity within you,” he said.
Without thinking about it, Athel reached over and took Alder’s hand. Their courtship had some thorns, to be sure. There were many unkind things she had said and done to him, and yet here was proof that he had forgiven her in his heart, and stood by her even now. Athel hoped that one day, she could forgive herself as well.
Setsuna touched the tip of her finger to her green painted lips and blew a kiss out to Privet through the wall. “Don’t worry, honey, I'll go in there and bring back what we came for. This is my chance to show you how reliable a wife I can be. You can count on me.”
Gomtah stopped at the final receptacle. It sat on solid ground at the far end of the bridge although nothing was visible beyond. It overflowed with pure spring water.
“This is Jnabra, the well of lust. Before we can be filled with peace, we must first empty ourselves from all physical cravings.”
“Oh, come on!” Setsuna protested, her fists clenched.
“This is the price we pay for spiritual enlightenment,” Gomtah admonished. “Our policy is very clear on this matter.”
“It’s all grub-spit, that’s what it is,” Setsuna yelled. “People...want things. You can’t just turn it off like a switch!”
“If you wi
ll not, then you may not pass.”
Athel placed her hand over her heart and held Alder’s hand tightly. She hadn’t done something like this in a while now. She went back to her training, allowing all of her needs to flow out of her, becoming like a blank pane of glass. It was an important step before fully linking with the trees, so as not to pollute the energy of the forest. Athel was surprised at how effortless it was, despite the length of time since she had last tried it. She felt herself becoming washed of everything, until only one thing remained, the one she clung to the tightest of all. It felt like a little light she held in her heart, a glowing firefly in her hand; a warm, swallowed secret.
I really do want to protect my forest.
Athel and Alder stepped forward past the edge of the bridge and onto the temple grounds. Captain Evere and Mina stepped alongside them.
There was a flash and a thud, and they all looked back to see Setsuna fallen on her rump. “Well, yeah, see, I think we all knew that one was coming, so no surprises there,” she complained as she crossed her arms and legs.
Gomtah stepped aside and welcomed them in his native tongue, revealing the temple beyond the plaza.
The temple itself was a simple structure made from crafted softwoods, painted white to catch the glow of the bioluminescent mushrooms. It was a two-tiered structure with a dome on top like a crown. A natural spring bubbled up to the surface of a stone well at the center of the plaza, then cascaded down several steps, flowing into the small underground river that passed in front of the temple. It felt as if this place did not belong in this world, but was instead a glimpse of the spirit realm that lay beyond this one.
Only tranquility existed here. In many ways, it reminded Athel of what it felt like to commune with the trees. A drawn out serenity that seemed to extend out behind and before you, without beginning and without end. All cares from the outside world seemed to fade away, becoming quieter and quieter until at last, your mind and heart became so tranquil that you could finally hear it. Something that was always there, but never noticed because it was previously overpowered by the noise from everything else. A calm feeling, almost like a drawn-out note. It was the happiness of simply being alive.
Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen Page 43
