by C Lee Tocci
On the third strike, the crystal shard began to flare. The young one’s eyes shuttered against its beam and turned to Keotak-se, fear in his face.
Keotak-se quickly recognized the signs of a nascent Stone Warrior and he realized that this must be the denizen of the Nether Rock who had assisted in the escape of the Infant Stone Voice. For Lilibit to have bestowed a Stone of Power upon him, she must be healed sufficiently for her powers to be proliferating. While Keotak-se’s body was engaged in the surrounding battle, his thoughts were upon a group of children, miles away, who were unknowingly teetering on the precipice of a fresh disaster. To grant the powers of a Stone Warrior without the proper training could be as catastrophic to the grantees as it could be to those around them.
At this moment however, Keotak-se had to deal with this young Netherockian who stood frozen with fear and confusion, the might of an entire planet resting in his hands. With a nod and a gesture, Keokak-se showed by example how to discharge the power that teemed in the shard. With great uncertainty, the young warrior turned and aimed.
A deadly beam of pale golden fury burned a path of carnage through the reeking swarm. The young warrior staggered backward, caught his balance and turned to face the old Stone Warrior. Keotak-se smiled. He still remembered both the wonder and the terror of first unleashing the power of your stone.
Yet there was no time for either words or celebration, a disturbance behind them in the Women’s Chamber recalled them to the immediacy of their situation. Wordlessly, the two Stone Warriors battled side by side, standing firm while many other defenders fell in their midst.
They stood fast, even as the tide of vermin finally ebbed. They dealt with the occasional rat that remained, but the greater portion of their attention was focused on each other.
Keotak-se knew he had no words with which to communicate with the youth, so he fixed his eyes on the nascent warrior, willing him to understand his thoughts. It was futile. The disparity of their natures made all their habitual communication useless. In the end, Keotak-se took his left fist and struck his right shoulder, and then taking his right fist, he struck his left shoulder. Dropping his arms, he repeated these gestures three times. This was an ancient sign of the Nether Rock, a throwback to the time when the People of the Nether Rock were plentiful and Warriors of the Nether Rock were feared and revered, both above and below. This was the sign of one warrior greeting an equal with respect and esteem.
The young Netherockian’s eyes grew large with wonder. It was so rare a gesture, he probably recognized it more from instinct than from experience. With awe writ large on his stony face, he returned the greeting.
With that, Keotak-se gestured his farewell. He could not linger to decipher the mystery of this young Stone Warrior of the Nether Rock. At some point, this Netherockian must go to Kiva to train. If not, he must surrender his stone. That was a problem for the future.
For now, Keotak-se must find the Infant Stone Voice.
He negotiated the Crystal Labyrinth, pausing to mourn the carnage. Amidst the crushed corpses of countless vermin were the bodies of many fallen defenders. He would later learn that more than four hundred and fifty Defenders died that day, yet of a mixed blessing, only one of the precious females was lost. Yet for a population so stressed, this was still a holocaust and throughout the Nether Rock, there roared a grief so great that, in many places, entire caverns imploded in anguish, wreaking a parallel havoc in the Overworld.
At this moment, however, the grief had a human face. There among the carnage, Keotak-se found Molly, her sightless eyes pouring tears as she held the desecrated corpse of Beryl. Keotak-se found no words of comfort; he could only lay his hand on her shoulder as she wept.
She looked up to his face, but he knew she could only see a misty silhouette with the soft glow from Hakuya hanging about his neck.
“You’ll be off to find the Stone Voice,” Molly said, her voice dead with sorrow.
Keotak-se nodded. “You will need to see the healers of the Overworld. The bites you have received will need to be treated.”
“I don’t care if I survive. I’ve lived several hours longer than I wanted to.”
And yet, with a flash of insight, Keotak-se saw that Molly might still have a part to play in the survival of both the Overworlders and the People of the Nether Rock. Lifting her to her feet, he led her out of the catacombs. It meant a delay in finding the Infant Stone Voice, but his heart told him it was a delay of future value.
Chapter Thirty Two
The Dream of the Wanderer
Todd plunged toward the desert floor. The wind whipped at his arms and legs and ripped the scream from his throat. Voiceless, he fell.
A hot breeze struck him and pushed him, first to the side and then upwards like a leaf.
He drifted over placid meadows. While the feeling of flying gave him a heady sense of freedom, it bothered him that he had no control. Yet at the same time, he felt a peculiar sense of relief. No one could expect a leaf floating on the wind to guide and protect those smaller and weaker than itself. And no one would blame an aimless feather for the aches and fears of a band of lost children. There was an odd bliss that went with being vulnerable and helpless.
Feeling detached, Todd watched a range of mountains rise on the horizon. As he floated towards them, he saw four vaguely familiar peaks with a crest of red-brown cliffs connecting them.
“Kiva!” His own voice sounded like a breeze.
He tried to steer himself towards the mountains, but he floated rudderless. And yet, the breeze was carrying him slowly towards the four mountains.
As he drew closer, the ridge of red stone cliffs grew clearer. At first, the formations seemed intimidating. They looked like an army of sienna stone soldiers, rough hewn, standing shoulder to shoulder, glaring at him. Yet there was something reassuring about them as well. Todd felt that if he could just get past those sentries, he would find safety on the other side.
He strained to push himself up and over the cliffs, but the breeze would not obey him and he choked back a scream of frustration as the wind dropped him onto the plains outside the Sienna Sentries.
Once more anchored to the ground, Todd scrambled to his feet and stared up at the cliffs towering before him. He had to get over them and see what was beyond them. He sheathed his staff on to his back and started to hike towards the base of the palisades.
Todd’s body felt heavy as if the air around him was thick and syrupy, but he plodded on. Then a wisp of mist reached out from the foothills and surrounded him. When the mist receded, he was no longer on the plains, but inside a very large truck.
It took Todd a minute to realize that the truck wasn’t really that big, it was just that he was very small. He looked up and saw his Dad driving.
It had been so many years since he had seen his father, the memory had faded, yet here he was, just like that last time. Todd stared. His father’s hair was black, like his, except for one tuft of grey hair that he braided and allowed to fall over his right ear. At the end of the braid was a silver ornament that looked like a small round spiderweb of silver. Eight tiny chips of colored gems decorated the web and two little down feathers hung off it. He had forgotten all about that charm and he now couldn’t draw his eyes from it.
“You must go to school, Todd,” his father was saying. “Don’t worry ‘though, I’ll come back to get you. You be a good boy and behave.”
Todd wanted to yell at him, to tell him not to go, that he would never see him again, but all that came out of his mouth was, “Okay, Dad.”
His father looked over at him, a strained smile on his face. He was tall and thin and his face was tanned. Dark circles framed his eyes and, as he drove, he kept glancing into the rear view mirror, his brow furrowed.
Then they were at the school. One minute, his father was there, standing beside him, the next minute he was gone. Todd walked through the empty halls of the school. No matter how quietly he tried to walk, his footsteps echoed like explosions. At t
he end of the hall, he saw a man that looked like his Dad go through a door. Todd ran to the door, but when he opened it, there was only the huge head of Mr. Jensen, the principal, yelling at him “BIRDS CAN’T TALK, YOU LITTLE FREAK!”
Todd ran out of the room and opened another door. “TEN POINTS OFF FOR BAD PENMANSHIP!” screamed Mrs. Phlickson’s head as she threw balls of crumpled up homework at him. “SLOPPY, SLOPPY FREAK!” The balls stung him like rocks where they hit him.
He raced out of that room and pulled open the next door. “I’LL BE GLAD WHEN THAT ONE’S GONE!” yelled Mr. Callow’s head. “THE LITTLE FREAK!”
He slammed the door closed. He was alone in the hallway once again. The hallway now stretched for miles in both directions. He ran down its length while voices screamed “FREAK!” from behind the closed doors.
A doorway appeared at the end of the hallway. Blinding light poured out from the cracks around the edges. Todd raced towards it and wrenched it open.
He was outside again, at the base of the Sienna Sentries. He looked back, but the schoolhouse was gone, only grassy plains for as far as the eyes could see.
The hair on his head prickled and his scalp tingled a warning. It was more of a scent in the air or a quiver in the earth rather than any sight or sound. His eyes scanned the horizon, but nothing moved.
Nothing moved.
Not a bird or even an insect was seen or heard in the valley. Even the wind stopped dead as if the entire earth held its breath.
A pinprick of black appeared like a faint flaw in the bright blue of the cloudless sky. The fleck grew into a black cloud, undulating as it approached. At first, Todd thought the dark mist was expanding, shooting out plumes of darkness into the spotless sky, but as it filled the horizon Todd realized it was imploding, a Black Void that sucked in all matter, all life, all thought, all creation.
The Void paused and hovered before Todd and the palisades. Todd struggled to his feet and brandished his staff defiantly. Mocking laughter echoed against the façade of the Sienna Sentries as the Void churned slowly forward. A tendril of blackness snaked out to ensnare him.
Suddenly a torrent of wind rose, pummeling Todd, sucking him towards the looming arm of the Void. He fell to ground and his fingers raked the stone as he fought the pull.
Beneath the orange tree, Todd woke with a silent scream on his lips. His heart raced in terror and his fingers were cut and raw from where they scrabbled the ground. Instinctively, he grabbed his staff and raised it in defense, but there was no enemy to be seen. The others still slept, except for Lilibit. She stared at him, her eyes wide, a vague echo of his nightmare in her face. She cocked her head at him, a silent question in her eyes.
“It was just a dream,” he whispered. “Go to sleep.”
Todd lie back down and shut his eyes, but it was many hours before he himself slept again.
Chapter Thirty Three
Retreat from Tai-Kwee
Dusk was settling on the orchard when Todd woke again. He didn’t feel all that refreshed, but at least the dread of his dream had faded.
Marla was already awake. She sat with her back against the trunk of an orange tree, a small smile on her face, her lips moving faintly in silent conversation. Todd sighed as he rubbed his eyes. Evidently, Ulex was back on line.
The others slept, still recovering from their escape from the Nether Rock.
“Up!” Todd nudged Jeff with his foot who grumbled and rolled over.
Todd sat up and yawned. Stretching his arms above his head, he cracked his fingers against a low hanging branch.
“Ow!” He rubbed his knuckles grouchily and crawled out from their bower.
One by one, they emerged from under the tree. Lilibit wouldn’t rouse so Todd dragged her out by one of her feet. She mumbled sleepily but did not wake, lying on the leaves where Todd left her. Shaking his head, he reached back under the branches to grab her knapsack.
“For the love of crows, Lilibit!” exclaimed Todd. “What have you got in there?”
That woke her. With a swift stab, she snatched her bag from Todd’s grasp.
“Just my stones,” she muttered.
“That’s got to weigh twenty pounds!” Todd cried. “You’ll break your back!”
“They’re not heavy.” She pulled her chin up. “I can carry them.”
Todd watched as Lilibit shouldered her bag as easily as if it was full of tennis balls. Lilibit glared up at him defiantly. Todd just shook his head.
They sat down to a breakfast of oranges and brown bread.
“Ulex says they stopped the invasion, but that many of his people were killed,” Marla told them while peeling an orange.
Marla had been giving them updates from Ulex with tedious regularity.
“Ulex says there were other Overworlders down there during the battle,” she added. “Ulex says...”
“Oh, will you shut up about Ulex already!” Jeff snapped. “If I hear ‘Ulex says’ one more time, I’m gonna vomit!”
Marla glared at Jeff. She looked over at Todd who was suddenly fascinated by the laces on his sneakers. He knew Marla expected him to back her up, but the truth was he agreed with Jeff. He was sick of hearing about Ulex.
They finished their meal in a moody silence, watching the sun set and the horizon turn dark purple. They filled their knapsacks with oranges and then set out, walking between the rows of citrus trees, masked by the overhanging branches and the cloud-obscured moonlight.
They’d been walking less than a hour through the trees when Lilibit started an orange throwing fight with Devon. As expected, Nita immediately rushed to Devon’s defense and it didn’t take more than a few minutes for Donny and Jeff to join in.
Todd shook his head with amazement. He was barely able to keep walking but the others were diving in out of the orange trees, ambushing each other. Since there were no homes in sight, Todd wasn’t worried when Nita released a high-pitched squeal when Jeff beaned her from behind.
When they finally reached the end of the grove, they were sticky and soiled from orange drippings and dirt. They stopped at a stream to wash, but a squeal of disgust from Nita brought them up short. There, floating in the stream was a dead rat. After seeing the first one, it took them only a moment to notice a dozen more either floating down the current or washed up along the bank.
They all agreed when Nita declared that sticky was better than dead-rat-water. They leapt over the stream, out of the protection of the trees and into the desert.
The moon broke free from its cloud cover as they crested the top of a steep hill. They didn’t stop to admire the vista revealed by the moonlight, the desolate canyons and dunes of the desert carpeted with patches of sage scrub and prickly palms.
They trekked down the hill and into the vast desert valley. Todd felt exposed and vulnerable in the bright moonlight. He quickened his pace and urged the others to keep up.
Between looking back over his shoulder and scanning the approaching horizon, Todd did not at first notice that Lilibit had wandered away from the group. A movement out of the corner of his eye grabbed his attention. He sighed as he recognized Lilibit a couple of hundred yards away moving at an angle from the group.
“Lilibit! Get over here!” Todd barked.
If Lilibit heard him above the hum of the desert wind, she made no sign. She continued to walk purposefully to the north. The rest of the group stopped and waited as Todd trotted over to her.
“Lilibit!” Todd called out again as he got closer, and Lilibit turned and looked at him with a grin that showed how completely oblivious she was to his frustration. She then stooped and placed her hand onto the sand, and looking back towards the east, she waited.
She didn’t wait long. Almost immediately, the wind began to strengthen, pummeling Todd, stinging his face with thousands of sand crystals that needled his exposed skin like tiny bullets. Lilibit’s hair and clothes flapped maniacally in the wind but her closed eyes were the only indication on her face that she was aware of the b
litz. Todd looked back and saw that the others, while watching in awe, were not in the path of the storm.
He fought his way to Lilibit’s side only to find that she was in the eye of the tempest. The buffeting wind was weaker here. He grabbed her arm as if to break her hold on the desert floor, but it wouldn’t move. She opened her eyes and turned to look at him with a dimpled smile. With a small movement of her head, she gestured to the east. A mounting dread rose from Todd’s stomach as he looked eastward.
There, rising from the desert floor, moved a dune of sand. It rose to a height of several stories, a tsunami of silica heading straight for them. It crested as a wave and broke less than a hundred feet in front of them, flowing to the point where they stood. Here the wave stopped, exhausting itself at their feet. The wind died down and the night grew deathly still. Slowly the stars reappeared in the sky.
The silence after the rage of the wind was, in a way, more frightening than the storm itself. Todd stood up.
After assuring himself the others were safe, he looked down to where Lilibit stooped, her hand still pressed flat against the desert floor.
On the sand, within inches of her hand, sat a stone. Todd stared at it, almost mesmerized. He held his breath as Lilibit reached out to pick it up and placed it against her cheek.
She stood and, extending her hand, whispered with a delighted smile, “His name is Tai-Kwee. And he wants to stay with you.”
Todd couldn’t take his eyes off the stone that lay in Lilibit’s open palm. It was a dark blue, like the evening sky right after dusk, and mottled with white veins. Todd saw where it was rough-hewn on the back side, but the side that faced up was worn smooth with a gentle indentation, like a thumb shaped bowl. His fingers ached to touch the stone, to stroke his thumb along its tiny basin. His hand reached blindly for the stone.
“No!” Todd pulled back as if burned. The stone fascinated him as much as it worried him, but there had been too much weird stuff happening lately, and Lilibit and her stones were the weirdest. He didn’t understand any of it and he wouldn’t trust what he couldn’t understand.
