The Ancient One

by T.A. Barron

  “Then we should stay more hidden, in the trees. Can you find a way? We’ll follow you.” Kate suddenly remembered Kandeldandel, who was nowhere in sight. “Where did that Tinnani go?”

  “Someplace far away, I hope,” muttered Jody. “And his pet owl too.”

  Just then, an ear-splitting blast as loud as a train whistle sounded right between Jody’s feet. He screamed and jumped nearly half his height into the air. Upon landing he whipped around to see what had made the terrifying noise.

  Facing him, grinning blithely, stood Kandeldandel. Arc, who had released the whistle, sat innocently upon his shoulder. Kandeldandel bobbed his head in owl-like fashion, then hooted, “Just thought we’d say hello.”

  Jody could not understand his words, but the mocking tone was clear. He grimaced and lunged at them. Arc lifted off into the branches, while the Tinnani stepped sideways and raised his full-feathered wings. His half grin broadened into a smile. Then, without warning, he brought the wings down and disappeared in a puff of white light. Not even the flute remained visible.

  “You scared them,” scolded Kate.

  “Scared them?” blurted Jody. “Didn’t you see what they did to me? First they dive-bomb me, then they nearly blast a hole in my backside.”

  Kate and Laioni exchanged grins before starting to stride into the forest. After a few steps, Kate said, “I guess Kandeldandel can get Arc to do anything.”

  Laioni cast her a knowing glance. “Tinnanis have a special way with owls. Not only with their close friends like Arc, either. Owls follow them everywhere they go, day or night.”

  “I thought owls slept all day.”

  “They do,” answered Laioni as she ducked beneath a branch, “unless a Tinnani is around. Tinnanis love to call them into action, hooting just like owls but with deeper voices. Kandeldandel does it with his flute too. So if you ever see an owl in flight during the day, you can be sure it’s the work of Tinnanis.”

  Kate recalled the mysterious owl who had saved her from the spell of the deadly green pool. It even looked a bit like Arc, come to think of it. Could Tinnanis have been responsible for that? No, she told herself. Not possible. Besides, Tinnanis may not even be around in five hundred years—especially if Gashra had his way.

  Monga, who was prancing immediately behind them, suddenly turned his head at a sound. Ears alert, he bounded off after some small, scurrying animal. Meanwhile, Jody reluctantly fell in behind, still grumbling to himself about the sneak attacks. He stopped every few steps to check under his legs for any new sign of trouble.

  For the next several hours, they trekked through the thick forest. The terrain, hilly and rolling, reminded Kate of the up-and-down trail that ran near her hometown. Of course, there were significant differences: New England had no great trees like this, for one. But what about five hundred years ago? Hadn’t her mother once told her that the land in her part of Massachusetts once supported enormous forests of hemlock and chestnut, now replaced with subdivisions and shopping malls? She wondered, and found herself feeling some sympathy for Jody. It wasn’t his fault that he happened to grow up in a time and place where the livelihood people thought would continue forever was finally coming to an end. He was just unlucky enough to be born at the hardest moment in the history of his hometown.

  Kate spotted an especially juicy clump of huckleberries and stopped to eat a few. The taste brought back instantly the tart flavor of Aunt Melanie’s homemade pie. Wistfully, she reached her hand into the pouch provided by the Chieftain. The minarni contained some kind of spindly roots that tasted like burned toast, as well as some reddish leaves, soaked in sauces and dried, with a flavor like vanilla pudding. As the Chieftain had promised, the food gave an unexpected surge of strength. Its stiff, chewy texture also made it seem more filling than its appearance warranted. She started walking again, then glanced behind at Jody, wondering whether he had decided to try any. No doubt if he had, he wouldn’t admit it.

  Suddenly, she halted in her tracks. A wave of nausea passed through her. Dozens of deer, including several does and fawns, lay stacked haphazardly in piles beneath a tall Douglas fir. Arrows still protruded from some of their bloody hides. Several decapitated heads hung mutilated from the tree’s lower branches. Many of the carcasses, their meat rotting and spoiled, bore armies of flies and squirming brown maggots. Laioni knelt weeping before the tree, whose bark had been brutally slashed and gouged by knives. Monga lay beside her, his tail drooping.

  Quietly, Kate approached and knelt beside her friend. She laid her arm across Laioni’s bare shoulders and waited until her sobs eventually ceased. Then she asked simply, “Who?”

  Laioni turned a tearstained face toward her. “Sanbu,” she whispered.

  “But why?”

  “Who can tell? Maybe—maybe he just thought it was fun. Maybe he wanted to get them before anyone else. Hunters like my father also stalk deer.”

  Kate shook her head. “But your father would have taken only what he needed.”

  “And thanked the deer for the gift,” added the Halami girl, staring blankly at the slaughtered animals beneath the tree.

  Rising, Kate turned away from the gruesome sight and slowly walked the perimeter of the area. She saw a discarded knife carved from flint embedded in the branches of a bush, but no other sign of Sanbu’s band.

  Jody joined her. “Who did this?” he asked, surveying the gory scene.

  “Sanbu,” answered Kate. “One of Gashra’s men. Can you believe this mess?”

  Jody pushed back a dangling lock of red hair. “Reminds me of a war movie I saw once.”

  Without looking at him, Kate replied, “Reminds me of a clear-cut I saw once.”

  Jody stiffened, but said nothing.

  Laioni, trailed by Monga, walked up to them. “We should go,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Sanbu might still be near.”

  21

  the crossing

  OFF they strode into the forest, with Laioni leading the way as before. She took them rapidly higher, ascending the spine of a ridge that they followed for a great distance until it dropped down into a steep-walled valley. The forest grew even thicker, with young trees seeming to sprout from the very roots of their elders. Yet despite the changing landscape and the increasing distance from Sanbu’s slaughter, the carnage remained fresh in Kate’s mind.

  Frequently, they crossed clear pathways through the undergrowth, winding between the towering trees. Animal trails, Kate surmised, though she could not be certain. Some of them Laioni chose to follow for significant distances. Others, perhaps traveled more by people than by four-legged wanderers, she avoided. Kate wished she had studied Aunt Melanie’s hand-drawn map more closely. She seemed to recall something near Brimstone Peak, a section of the map that was veiled in darkness. But she could not be sure.

  At one point she heard a low whistling above her head. She looked up to discover Arc descending slowly toward her, his rusty red wings spread wide. The huge brown eyes of the owl studied her intently from the middle of his wide facial disc. For the first time, Kate noticed his little ear tufts and the long white feathers sprouting from both sides of his silvery beak, giving the impression of well-combed whiskers. With a gentle whistle, the diminutive owl settled on her left shoulder.

  “So you’d like a ride?” asked Kate, enjoying the feeling of his soft plumage against her cheek.

  Arc ruffled his feathers contentedly.

  “I wonder where your friend Kandeldandel is,” mused Kate.

  The owl raised his wings slightly, as if to say, How should I know?

  “Do you think he’ll turn up again?”

  Arc merely repeated the gesture.

  “Nothing predictable about him,” said Kate with a smile.

  The owl whistled softly and shook his long whiskers.

  Kate realized at that moment how much Arc combined elements of other animals: the wide eyes of a cat, the round shape of a bear, the talons and wings of a hawk. Right now, at rest, he seemed as harmless a
s a down pillow. Yet in an instant he could become a skillful hunter, sailing soundlessly through the air in search of prey. A creature of many contrasts, she thought—much like human beings.

  They entered an area more verdant than anyplace they had seen since leaving Lost Crater. Walking on the stretches of soft, spongy moss felt like stepping across a mattress. Presently the sound of splashing water reached them. They came upon a narrow canyon with dark rock walls covered with thousands upon thousands of lushly layered ferns. High as houses rose the richly decorated rocks on both sides. Kate counted five small waterfalls streaming down through the ferns, looking like marble columns in a temple of green. Arc moved to the edge of her shoulder and released an ascending whistle that reverberated within the walls. Then he listened to the echo, bobbing his head rhythmically.

  Ahead, the canyon opened into a grassy clearing where the water from the waterfalls combined to form a surging stream. As they approached the clearing, the continual rushing of the stream grew louder. Gurgling over rounded rocks, the water cascaded steadily through the wide channel. Monga started barking, and Laioni called to him sharply. Stepping closer, Kate saw the immense form of a black bear standing near the opposite bank, her hind legs submerged in the stream. Nearby two identical cubs rolled on the grass together, wrestling playfully.

  Using her forepaws for bats, the bear took several swipes at the stream, spraying water on the bank and her cubs. Finally, she knocked a substantial silver-colored fish out of the water, which lay flapping in the grass for no more than two seconds before the bear cubs reached it. One of them grabbed it and held it between two black paws. Then, like a child eating a Popsicle, the bear sniffed the wriggling fish and took one enormous bite out of the fleshy midsection. The other cub tried to take a bite of his own, causing the fish to fall on the grass. They rolled over each other trying to get it, finally tumbling over the edge of the bank into the rushing water. The mother, meanwhile, ignored them and continued to smack the water in search of more fish.

  Suddenly a white-winged creature materialized in the air just above the bear and settled on her massive shoulders. The bear roared and reared up, spinning on her feet like a dancer.

  “Kandeldandel!” exclaimed both Kate and Laioni at once. Arc flapped his wings and whistled in greeting.

  The playful Tinnani waved to them, flute in hand. He rode the jumping, twisting bear with the moxie of a cowboy riding a bucking bronco. Every time the bear swatted at him, Kandeldandel evaded the blow just in time, losing not so much as a feather. Kate and Laioni were laughing heartily as Jody came up from behind. Seeing the cause of the commotion, the boy merely glowered.

  At last Kandeldandel lifted off and landed on the far bank. Grasping the still-flailing fish with his talons, he took flight again just as the bear and both of her cubs came charging at him. He rose barely out of arm’s reach as the mother bear swatted and roared angrily. With perfect accuracy, the Tinnani dropped the fish with a splat precisely on her long, black nose. He then flew off into the trees.

  “That was some show,” said Kate with a smile.

  “Too bad the bear didn’t get him,” grumbled Jody. He eyed the little owl on her shoulder with scorn. “Or his pet owl.”

  Arc flapped his wings and whistled angrily.

  “Kandeldandel’s a trickster,” Kate replied. “He just likes a good laugh.” Turning to Laioni, she added, “I don’t know what else he’s good for, though. He’s here and then he’s not here. We sure can’t count on him to help us against Gashra.”

  Laioni indicated Arc with a tilt of her head. “Even his owl friend can’t depend on him for a good ride. That’s probably why he decided to perch on you for a while.”

  “At least I’m better than a wild bear,” agreed Kate.

  “Let’s go,” said Laioni, giving a pull on one of Monga’s ears. “That bear’s so mad now she might decide to chase us instead of him.”

  As Kate started to follow, Arc stretched his wings, then opened his beak wide in a yawn. He gave a long, low whistle, apparently announcing it was time for a nap, before closing his eyes tightly. They hiked along the bank for many miles, climbing successive inclines and declines, wading through stretches of marsh grass, jumping across small side channels and muddy ravines. Throughout, Arc slept peacefully upon his perch.

  At last the group entered a valley so pristine that if the allies of Gashra had already entered it, no one could tell. The forest here felt peaceful and harmonious. Although Laioni regularly scanned the bubbling stream and waving branches for any signs of disturbance, Kate grew gradually more relaxed. Danger seemed as distant as Gashra’s steaming mountain lair, at least another day’s walk away. Even the memory of Sanbu’s slain deer began to fade.

  At one point, Laioni halted and turned to Kate. “We should cross the stream here.” Seeing the sleeping creature on her shoulder, she added, “He looks very comfortable there. I think you’ve made a new friend.”

  Kate grinned. “He’s kind of cute, don’t you think?”

  Arc suddenly opened his eyes and bobbed his squat head from side to side, as if he were embarrassed.

  “I especially like his whiskers,” said Laioni, stepping into the stream.

  The small red owl blinked, ruffling his wings proudly. Then, with a chirplike whistle, he lifted off from his perch. His whisker-feathers seemed to flap just as vigorously as his wings as he flew across the stream and vanished into the tall trees.

  Kate watched him until he disappeared, then decided to use this opportunity to take a drink. She lowered her head into the rushing water, feeling its coldness cleanse her face. Monga joined her at the water’s edge, lapping eagerly. Jody, with some awkwardness due to his sling, bent down to do the same.

  “Ahhh,” said the boy, raising his face from the stream. “Tastes good.” He took another several swallows. “Clear too. I’ve never seen a stream so clear. You could catch fish here no trouble.”

  Kate, her face also dripping, lifted herself to her feet. “That bear back there was having some trouble,” she said wryly.

  “Yeah,” answered the boy, raising himself to stand. “Bet she feels the same way I do about pesty owl-people.”

  Laioni, who had crossed over while they were drinking, called to them from the opposite bank. Monga obediently marched into the stream. Using the walking stick to give her balance in the fast-moving water, Kate followed.

  Step by step, she pushed across the channel. About halfway across, she briefly paused to glance back at Jody, who was just entering the stream. Then, without warning, the earth shifted under her feet. She cried out, fighting to keep herself upright.

  With a grinding heave, the stream bed lurched to one side, opening a long chasm that snaked from the trees by the far bank over the grassy meadow and into the stream itself. Kate fell into the water, managed to raise herself, then tumbled backward again as the earthquake shook the ground again, this time more intensely. Her lower back struck a pointed rock jutting up from the stream bed and she shouted in pain.

  Then fear flooded her veins. The walking stick was gone! Battling to regain her feet, she saw it floating swiftly down the stream. She struggled toward it, but another series of tremors knocked her face first into the churning water.

  “The stick!” she sputtered, toiling to stand. But no one could hear her over the thunderous roar that swelled in the air, drowning out any other sound.

  At that instant, she felt a shock of heat on her hand. A new, sizzling sound hissed in her ears and she realized that the water just upstream was steaming like a boiling pot. Fiery fingers of orange lava poured out of the chasm and into the water, sending thunderheads of vapor into the sky. Lava rolled along the stream bottom, consuming anything in its path. Through the rising steam Kate saw the oncoming river of orange only a few feet away.

  A set of long talons wrapped around her left armpit and lifted her barely out of the water, just as the molten fluid rolled across the spot. Kandeldandel, flapping furiously, carried her over
the stream bank, across the grass, and into the shelter of the trees. He dropped her on a tangle of brush with a splintering of broken branches. Laioni and Monga bounded to them.

  “The stick!” she exclaimed. “It’s in the stream.”

  Laioni’s jaw fell open and she turned downstream.

  Kandeldandel hooted, his yellow eyes widening. Not hesitating another second, he flew off into the billowing steam.

  Laioni yanked Kate by the arm to help her stand again. They stumbled together along the bank, searching for any sign of the walking stick. Despite the fact that the tremors had grown milder, they could see nothing in the water but sizzling columns of steam, writhing like wrathful spirits.

  “It happened so fast,” moaned Kate.

  “Gashra,” said Laioni hatefully. “I should never have taken us back into the open.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” said Kate, wiping the water from her forehead and eyes. “You couldn’t have known.”

  “I should have known. You depended on me and I failed you. And failed my people as well. If the stick is lost—”

  “There!” shouted Kate, seeing a winged figure burst forth from the mist with a familiar shape clutched in his talons. As the Tinnani settled on the ground next to them, Kate grasped the walking stick again and hugged Kandeldandel. “Thank you, oh thank you,” she said.

  “Don’t make a fuss, now,” he hooted gruffly, pushing her away with his arms. “I just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

  “I’m still grateful,” breathed Kate happily, running her finger along the shaft. “That was too close. Without this we’d be sunk.”

  Kandeldandel’s permanent grin twitched slightly. “You needed a bath, anyway.”

  “Hey,” said Kate. “Where’s Jody?”

  The grin expanded. “Now comes the fun part.”

  Spinning his head atop his neck, the Tinnani turned his gaze toward the opposite bank and flapped off into the steaming waterway. Kate and Laioni barely had a chance to look at each other in puzzlement when suddenly he emerged again from the billowing clouds, this time bearing an ungainly package in his talons. Jody, clasped by the back of his belt, was hanging upside down, kicking his legs wildly and cursing the beast who had kidnapped him.