The Secret Of The Crystal Skull

by Mallerey Cálgara

  He was exhausted when he heard the trotting horses, and realized he was approaching the road. He puts his hand on the knife sheath, to insure, and hid behind robust tree. Thanks to sunlight, it was possible to scan the site. He spotted the swamp shortly after a bend, a little more than twenty meters from where he was. He went there, still in the woods. Once passed the curve, he saw a hut and stopped in front of it. He believed he found what he was looking for, because it matched the description given by the trader.

  ◆◆◆

  Mongho waited for a while before coming out, seeing if anyone else approached. As seen no movement, he crossed the road and went to the fence on the other side. The fence almost disappeared in the middle of a small forest of shrubs and tiny gnarled trees. The strange vegetation stretched to the small staircase of eight steps leading to the balcony, breaking into the hut and across the ceiling. The few remaining roof eaves hung on the wooden walls indefinite and faded color, producing a minimal shadow on the ground, barely enough to cover the wood pile cut to the fire. The old lady sweeping the balcony. Between the ranges of wood, Mongho saw the tips of an old mill turning slowly.

  Then the magician stared at the lady. She was bent over, dressed in rags, holding a cane to help her to stand up. As now she swept the bat was leaning against the door. Her hair was gray, long and twisted, almost reaching the knees. Mongho noticed she was really old, like it had been partially embalmed before discovering she was still breathing. He came to laugh at his own thoughts, which aroused her attention, which turned to the figure standing next to her fence.

  “Hver er þar?”[40] yelled the old woman. There was a brief silence, but strange, during which she stared at him intently, trying to recognize him, as she hadn’t obtained any response.

  The shock flickered in Mongho’s face for a moment, leaving him without a voice: she spoke in the language of wizards and, moreover, he had a glimpse that he saw her before. The woman, suspecting who he was, invited him to enter.

  “Komdu hingað ungur maður!”[41] she gestured, shouting. “Did Prince Sulco send you? I see he has ruled off that old man.” And he released a callous laugh. “Á milli! Milli!”[42]

  Mongho absorbed those words, finding strange her connection with Prince Sulco, beyond that friendly way she had referred to the castle wizard.

  Mongho’s initial idea was simple: ask for wizard and come out of there as quickly as possible. But it didn’t happen as planned. The old woman got down the eight steps of the stairs, moaning like someone waking from a long sleep; she walked toward him, grabbed him by the arms and pulled him. Surprised, he said nothing, just followed her, leaving sandal marks in the mud. He paused for a moment before going up the stairs, not knowing if he should jump directly to the balcony or risked step on them, and get his feet sink, as the ladder fell apart. He tested his weight on the second step, which protested against it with a symphony of creaks and groans, but stood firm. Only then Mongho continued.

  “Come on! Prince Sulco should be in a hurry to send you before the appointed date! Lucky for him, since this year the weeds have grown enough to be harvested before the time. Sit here, I’ll be right back.” She pulled a stool under the wooden table, so old that he stood out in relief, and forced him to sit.

  “Beautiful decor!” Mongho muttered sarcastically, looking around. It was a very humble place, there was nothing of value, at least nothing that was visible. The pungent smell of the room, due to numerous herbs hanging on one wall, made him barely breathe. A variety of nondescript objects and copper pots were displayed on shelves tumbled, resting on rocks due to excessive weight, along with parts of bats, lizards, snakes and other dry unrecognizable creatures floating in jars with turbid liquids. Near the wood stove, kitchen utensils careers hung to the ceiling by sisal. The few visible parts of the floor, he could see it was old, polished by the feet that have trodden for years.

  A strange sound, like a herd was loose and coming toward him, made Mongho get up abruptly. Seconds later, passed by the door several pigs, running, making more mess than it already had. He tried to drive them out, some came out while others got in. At this point, the lady’s voice cursing in the back came to his ears, and he approached the small window to see what was happening. The animals had knocked down the fence and they were running on her plantation. For a moment, he laughed at her awkward chasing the animals, then he felt bad about it and decided to help her. He spent the next minutes straightening the stye stakes, nailing them to the floor with one stone. Then he tied the chicken woods that the pigs had broken down.

  The woman finished harvesting the herbs and walked toward the house. Even passing next to her aide and seeing him with his hands full, needing help, she moved on. Mongho looked at her, scolding her and wondering why she didn’t help him. As if reading his thoughts, without looking back, she muttered.

  “Ég er ekki of gamall fyrir þetta! Og þú munt ekki gera neitt gagnlegt fyrir nu.”[43] She went in and slammed the door behind her.

  With great difficulty, Mongho managed to fix the pigsty. The stakes couldn’t get firmed on the muddy floor, so it was easy for the pigs topple and go into the chicken coop. After getting fence ready, he began the tough task of chasing the pigs to bring them back. Mongho ran and fell several times in the mud, not counting the fuss they made when they were cornered.

  All dirty and smelly, the wizard walked up the stream next to the house and washed quickly, then he went inside. The door was closed by a small bolt, he pulled it. He frowned when he saw there was no one. The stove was lit with the water bubbling in a cauldron, and inside, there were several herbs. The smell of cooked wasn’t the worst, besides, he could eat anything after the effort he made. At this time, his stomach growled, confirming. Not holding curiosity, he approached to see what she cooked.

  “This stew is very special, if you want to stay for dinner!” said the witch, standing in the doorway.

  “I’m sorry!” Frightened, he stammered the only word he could utter. He walked away quickly and tripped over the stool that was in the way, knocking him down.

  “Don’t worry!” She came in and ran over him. “I let you taste it. You’re going to love it! Is goat’s scrotum with herbs. Very good for the skin. See how my skin looks...” Mongho wanted to laugh, but he didn’t. “And besides, it’s an excellent invigorating.” She took a large spoon and led in the direction of his mouth. After seeing what was floating, Mongho’s stomach lurched and he struggled to contain the vomit, but his expression couldn’t hide his disgust.

  “I see that you don’t know much about cooking!” She threw the contents of the spoon into the pan. She turned back and saw that Mongho was still on the ground, then nudged him with his cane. “Will you sit there all day? Get up and take Prince Sulco’s order! Tell him not to take long to send my payment. That was our agreement.”

  Mongho backed away, still crouched, trying not to be hit again. When he had a chance, he got up quickly from that filthy floor, took the herbs on the table and left as quickly as he could, leaving the witch talking to herself between laughers.

  He thought he was free when he crossed the fence, but she called him.

  “Knabo, atendu!”[44] she said. He glanced and saw her standing in the doorway, waving her cane. Fearing that she had discovered that he wasn’t who prince Sulco sent, Mongho kept walking, pretending he didn’t heard her. He took three steps, but she screamed again:

  “Por iu, vi aspektas multe kiel via patro!”[45] Immediately Mongho stopped and turned toward her, but she had already entered and closed the door without giving him a chance to think straight and ask questions. How could she know my father?, he wondered. He had doubts whether or not to go back and ask her about his father, because he was afraid that she found out that he wasn’t there for the herbs. He swallow hard and struggled to ignore the storm that it was forming in his stomach. Slowly, he made his way back, sometimes looking back to see if she had opened the door again, and then he went thoughtfully in the forest. He had left there
with more questions than when he arrived, and more questions were coming and adding to the already existing on the way back to the castle. So, where is the wizard? And my dad? Where does he fits in this story? And now? What will I do with these herbs?, he thought apprehensive. However, he was sure that there wasn’t the wizard’s home and, apparently, the woman didn’t know anything about him. He began to articulate a plan, since he couldn’t hide from Prince Sulco his unexpected visit to the old witch’s house for long.

  ◆◆◆

  The sun shone on protruding flames illuminating the mountain peaks, when Mongho arrived at the castle. He put his plan into practice immediately. He went to his room, quickly, where he separated and hid some herb branches, leaving then immediately, to find Cerbus. His plan was to give the herbs to Cerebus and made up an excuse. Cerbus wasn’t very smart. He would be easy to fool.

  He climbed the stairs toward the east wing of the castle, through the paths that he had memorized. This led him to the painting. He remained standing in front of it, admiring once again the beauty of the young woman, while waiting for Cerbus.

  “You did like her!” Cerbus came to his back moments later, holding a torch, with a threat in his voice.

  “Cerbus! I cann’t imagine how much I’m glad to see you.”

  “Glad?!” The prince’s servant wondered if the whole world had turned upside down overnight. Mongho nodded vehemently, maintaining a strange smile on his face, and only then Cerbus realized he was being sarcastic.

  “I went to the old shack in the forest and guess what I found there? An old crazy witch who made me put away about the pigsty and chicken, and wanted to give me a goat’s scrotum to eat!” Cerbus laughed and threw his head back in such a way that the torch lit his yellowed teeth. “And more... She asked me to give these herbs to Prince Sulco. Do you know what it is?” Cerbus immediately changed from laughing to for annoyed face.

  “I’ll take that!” With an almost imperceptible movement, using only one hand, Cerbus plucked herbs, while with the other, drew his dagger. Then, he pressed Mongho to the wall, touching his neck with the tip of the knife, making a light pressure. A drop of blood appeared. “What else did the old woman tell you?”

  “Nothing!” He swallowed. “She only asked to you don’t take long to deliver the payment. She needed the money, but I think it’s better if Prince Sulco doesn’t know that it was me, who brought the order, he may not like it” Mongho suggested, and waited in an uncomfortable silence for his words to make some effect. Seconds later, he added, trying to confuse Cerebus. “Don’t worry! I won’t let him know. Now, please, can you take the knife from my throat? Your secret is safe.” Gradually Cerbus was distancing the knife and himself, despite still looking wary. Mongho rubbed his neck and remained unmoved. He knew how to get what he wanted, a very rare virtue in those times. He was the kind of man who could make the world bend to his own wills, if he wanted.

  “Stupid old witch!” Cerbus muttered, wondering what he would tell prince Sulco. “Well, well! This will leave my lord with a great mood...” he turned to Mongho and warned. “You know your way out. Don’t come here again. I mean it.”

  As he left, Mongho let his shoulders drop with a sigh of relief. He sought out quickly from there, fearing find Prince Sulco along the way. I got away with for this close. He didn’t even notice that it was missing some branches!, he reflected.

  On his way back, he thought about seeking for information about the herbs in his grandfather’s books and on the castle library. Moreover, he hadn’t given up to find out the whereabouts of the castle wizard. Now more than ever, he had many questions to ask.

  Mongho was aware of everything around him, so he noticed the strange things happened there, without people noticing. First, the death of his father; then queen Arapia; later, the strange disease of king Alphonsus. Now, there was the castle wizard’s disappearance and the involvement of Prince Sulco with a witch herbalist. He was trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle, when he was surprised by Prince Sulco on the hallway, with a cold face, as always.

  “Cerbus told me, you wanted to talk to me.”

  “Yes, Your Highness!” Mongho bowed in reverence. “Could you tell me where I can find the castle wizard?”

  “Why would I know?”

  “I heard that Your Highness had magic lessons with him.”

  “That was a long time ago. As he wasn’t pleasing me, I dismissed him. He should have gone to work in another castle.” Sulco turned and continued his path, without extending it. Mongho stood in the hallway, not understanding anything. Cerbus had said that the wizard went home. Prince Sulco said that he was working in another castle. What really happened? Where was the castle wizard?, he asked himself. Although the information wasn’t matching, he sighed with relief to see that Cerbus didn’t say anything to Sulco, about his visit to the old witch, at least for now. And so, thoughtful and increasingly confused, the wizard continued his way to the library.

  CHAPTER VII

  Another year had begun.

  Mongho walked the halls quiet, as the light of the sunset ran down the walls. The interior of the castle slowly darkening. Back in his room, he approached the window and looked up, taking full advantage of the last moments he spend in that room. The sky was clear when the moon appeared between the clouds and bathed the night with marble rays of light. Then hid again. A light breeze with the smell of rain, toured the castle roof, crunching the weather vane made of iron. The wind didn’t take long. It reached Mongho hair, shook them frantically and tore a long sigh.

  “Ni havas tre agrabla vespero!”[46] he thought with himself, aloud. “Tio estas bona komenco...”[47]

  ◆◆◆

  He was tired, visibly tired, more than he ever have been recalled. Learning the ancient language, interspersed with the practice of magic, consumed him entirely; all of this, made him temporarily forget the everyday concerns. He went several times up and down the stairs with objects from his room to the old hall of the east wing, in the lower part of the castle. There, he would have more space to do his experiments, which, ultimately, were constant. However, they didn’t always work out, and many left him unconscious on the floor. Upon awakening, he found Heian stopped laughing at his side, telling him the same speech, “Gardu vin! Mi ne volas veni al via ĉambro por kolekti siajn pecojn disĵetitaj sur la planko!”[48]. Unfortunately, the room hadn’t beautiful views of the mountains as his former room. Mongho had acquired the pleasurable habit to lean on the window sill, in the late afternoon, to enjoy the sun change color and hide behind the mountains, and he would miss this landscape. But the room was closest to the well, which at this point, it was more important.

  The wizard decided to change the room because of the latest incident, when he was making experiments, the room went on fire. The explosion was so big that almost burned down the castle. If it wasn’t for the servants to help him control the flames, the damage would have been much higher. This left king Heian between a rock and a hard place.

  Mongho really learned in practice. Each spell read in old books, interesting or not, he wanted to test. Some have worked on the first try, others less so, and several ended up in major disasters. His dedication to magic studies was such that caught Prince Sulco’s attention. Who hasn’t seen Mogho as a failure anymore. However, there was a particular experiment that was worth every wire burned brow...

  His grandfather’s magic book, the same showing how to use the crystal ball, also taught to manipulate and dominate the elements: earth, water, wind and fire. There were neat rows of runes occupy up to ten pages, written in blood, a small note if compared to the entire book. Because it was too complex, Mongho didn’t do more than admire them. He recognized only one figures on all of them, the rune of time. He deduced that the note was about that rune and whatever it was explaining, it didn’t interest him at that time, since he had other priorities. He needed first, learn the simple runes, which had become his torment. He decided to embrace the learning and started testing it with fi
re.

  After saying a spell, Mongho turned out his hand and it appeared an orange flame in his palm, which soon consumed. After repeating the spell several times, he managed to create small balls of fire and then made float. It wasn’t an illusion, it was real fire. With each repetition, a larger fireball appeared, the last of which led to the explosion. It was a surprising result. When the shock subsided, the wizard shivered with a jolt of euphoria and fear. His happiness was so great that he thought about telling Heian, but, after the agitation, he thought it was best to first learn to master the other elements in case he needed to put out a fire.

  ◆◆◆

  The first morning in the new room came pale, cold and clammy. Fog beams similar to the smoke had gone up the mountains, advancing toward the hill at dawn. Soon covered the castle flag, swaying in the wind chipmunks. A light rain began to fall, making Mongho awake, he felt the water from the open windows, along with the wet earthy aroma. In his former room, it wouldn’t be possible, as it was at the top and the only smell he felt was the mold. He took a deep breath and rolled to the edge of the bed, stretched the bones of the spine and watched with joy their new refuge.

  The bed was next to the desk, and that, next to a window with a view of the stone wall, since it was the most convenient location, so it wouldn’t be noise. Natural lighting was a great advantage, because he could study up until late without having to use smelly lamp.

  Piles and piles of books were on the floor for lack of space in his bookshelf, called library. Surrounding an entire wooden chair, of high backrest, he put them from five or six steps from his bed. If he feel tired of reading, he wouldn’t need to make much effort to lie down. The chair legs had the form of tiger claws, and both the seat and the backrest had cushioned finish cobalt blue velvet, adorned with leaves design embossed. Three smaller chairs, common, held a pile of scrolls and maps. Pots of paint and feathers were scattered on the desk of his laboratory, which was on the opposite side of the library, located precisely where the access door to the pit. Sometimes people in the castle felt the floor and the walls tremble, and listened to some object turn into a thousand pieces after falling to the ground. Over time they got used to it, knowing the source of the tremors was Mongho’s room. After a tremor, he always showed up with something different, missing some part of his eyebrows, hair up high or bald.