The Shaman's Secret (Kalika Magic Book 2)

by Karen Hughes

chapter 3

  The Seeing Tree

  Kai stood in silence, watching Brek fumble with wood and flint. The medicine man handled his tools gently, as if he feared they would break. He crouched by the pile of sticks, blowing softly and cupping his hands around the flame.

  The fire sprang to life. Brek bustled about with his charms and his incense, muttering in the ancient tongue of the Kalika. He sat on a faded cushion in front of the fire, closed his eyes and began to chant.

  ‘Ki-somma, koko mi ki-somma.’

  Nothing happened. He opened one eye and motioned with his head for Kai to sit next to him. Kai took a deep breath and plonked himself on the ground.

  ‘Concentrate,’ Brek said, poking him with a bony elbow.

  Kai gazed into the fire. He could feel the flames dancing through his body, rolling in waves up his arms and legs, burning into his heart. He took a deep breath and whispered, ‘Koko mi ki-somma.’

  The burning grew stronger. He braced himself. It was always like this: the rush of heat and pain, almost too much to bear. He gritted his teeth. ‘Ki-somma.’

  Brek was beside him, holding his arm. The medicine man was singing. Kai heard his thin, quavering voice and clung to it with his mind. It would keep him safe, keep him sitting on the ground when every part of him felt like it was about to break to pieces and fly into the sky.

  Smoke swirled around him in shapes and patterns. A man with the eyes of a wolf, a fat emperor sitting on an elephant, thousands of soldiers lining up across the plain. Then there was darkness and shadows, and children screaming and women crying out, and the villages of Gort burning, burning to the ground.

  Kai felt tears on his cheeks. He looked at Brek and saw that his face was white. He was rubbing his hands together in his lap and shaking, rocking back and forth.

  ‘It is worse than I imagined,’ he whispered. ‘Far, far worse.’

  ‘What is?’ Kai scrubbed angrily at his face. ‘What did you see?’

  Brek looked at him with narrow eyes. ‘The same thing you saw.’

  Kai looked at the ground. ‘Mum says that just because you see something in the smoke doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.’

  Brek frowned. 'That may be so, but it doesn't mean you should ignore it and pretend it will go away.'

  Kai was silent. He stared into the flames.

  Brek picked up the spell book and thumbed slowly through the pages. ‘Chief Wicasa wrote that the smoke may not always be right, but it is a worthy guide.’

  ‘The things I saw were terrible,’ said Kai. ‘They won’t happen. They can’t.’

  Brek threw a handful of white sage into the flames. There was a hiss and a scattering of sparks, and Kai smelt the pungent smell of the herb in the night air. He fought the picture that came into his mind.

  It was a girl. Clasping a tattered purple cloak around her shoulders, she curled her body against a cave wall, shivering. Her hands were chapped and raw, and her face was streaked with tears.

  ‘No,’ he pushed the picture away and jumped to his feet, looking wildly around him.

  Brek climbed to his feet and put his hand on Kai's shoulder, but the boy shrugged him off and ran out of the circle into the darkness.

  Kai stood among the shadows of the forest. He could feel the magic buzzing in the trees, whispering all around him.

  ‘You should be out with the king, learning to be a man,’ his mother had said. ‘Not sitting under a tree with your nose stuck in a ratty old spell book.’

  He thought about all the things he had learned from that book – how to fly across the sea with nothing but his arms flapping and the wind in his hair; how to call on the elements of air, water, fire and earth; how to battle dark spells and know that he was strong.

  His mother's voice whispered in his ear. 'The magic is dangerous. You are the Prince of Ballyndor. You don't need it any more.'

  He looked up at the night sky. The power of the forest hummed through his body, the magic beat inside his heart. How could he pretend it wasn’t there?

  A strong hand clapped him on the back and he stumbled forward.

  ‘Follow me,’ said Brek. ‘If we’re going to find the apiki flower, we need some answers.’

  ‘But Dargan said the apiki flower was a fairytale.’

  Brek frowned. ‘Dargan has no time for magic,’ he said. ‘He knows only how to fight.’

  ‘He is the leader of the Kalika –’

  ‘For now,’ said Brek. ‘But the world is changing. Our next leader will not be a warrior, he will be a healer. He will touch the spirit of the living earth and make this land whole.’ He gave Kai a long, searching look. ‘He will not be able to do this without the apiki flower. If the flower is a fairytale, there is no hope.’

  He turned and disappeared into the forest, his feet swift and sure.

  Kai looked back at the lights twinkling in the trees, at the cosy tree houses tucked among the leaves. He looked at the trail Brek had taken through the darkest part of the forest. For a moment he hesitated. Then he took a deep breath and turned to follow.

  By the time they reached the edge of the forest, the moon was high and the clouds glowed silver above the trees.

  ‘Are you sleeping?’ asked Brek, patting the ancient trunk.

  ‘Hardly,’ rumbled the Seeing Tree, its voice rolling over them. ‘I never get any sleep these days, there’s always someone knocking.’ The leaves rustled loudly. ‘And the questions they ask me! Who shall I marry? Where should I live? What should I call my first-born son? Harrumph. Questions they ought to figure out for themselves.’

  Brek laughed. ‘I’m sorry to hear that, old friend, but at least they’re keeping you busy.’

  ‘I don’t want to be busy,’ muttered the tree. ‘I was quite happy being asleep.’

  'You knew this would happen. It was your prophecy, remember? The Emerald Child will return to Gort, the trees will wake up and all will be well,' said Brek. He was quiet for a moment. 'Except that it isn’t,' he said.

  ‘That’s not exactly right.’ The leaves rustled again. ‘I said that if the Emerald Child didn't come back there would be one hundred years of sorrow. Things could be much worse, you know.'

  'I doubt it,' said Brek. 'Sofia may be gone, but she has left behind a dying land.’

  There was a long silence. Something very like a sigh came from the old tree. 'I knew this would happen,' it said. 'People are like mosquitos. They take everything, they suck you dry. They swarm through the forest, buzzing and buzzing. Such a nuisance.'

  ‘Sofia was a nuisance,' corrected Brek. 'The children of Gort are not. While you were sleeping, the young prince grew up in the forest with Grandma Helki. His sister was hidden away on a secret island, far from Ballyndor –’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’ muttered the tree. ‘I know these things.’

  ‘I’m reminding you of their courage,’ said Brek. ‘Kai and Indie came back to challenge the nukpana who stole their father's throne. They were so young, but they fought when everyone else had given up. Now they face another battle, and they need your help.’

  ‘Oh, very well,' said the tree. ‘Ask your question. I'll see what I can do.'

  Kai ducked his head and climbed through the opening in the great trunk. Brek followed, bending low.

  ‘Comfortable?’ the deep voice of the tree echoed through the hollow. ‘I’ll just make some tea, shall I?’

  Kai looked around, half expecting to see a kettle and cups appear out of the darkness. He heard a rich choking sort of sound and realised that the tree was laughing at him.

  Brek rolled his eyes. ‘Very funny,’ he said, flicking his long fingers. ‘But don’t trouble yourself – we brought our own.’

  White light broke the darkness. On the ground at Kai’s feet sat a tray with two brown gourds and a bowl of blue saska berries.

  Kai looked at Brek. Brek smiled. 'I've been practising a few of Chief Wicasa's spells myself. Food, mostly, and healing potions. Nothing fancy, I’m afraid.’

/>   Kai picked up the gourd closest to him and took a sip. The liquid was clear and sweet and tasted like honey.

  ‘Chief Wicasa wrote that the secret to real magic is simple,’ said Brek, draining his gourd. ‘Expect it to happen, pretend it has already happened, be grateful, and whatever you wish for will appear.’

  He stood tall and straight in the centre of the hollow, stretching his arms until the tips of his fingers brushed against the sides of the tree.

  ‘Stop that,’ the tree growled. ‘It tickles.’

  ‘What are you doing now?’ mumbled Kai, his mouth full of berries.

  Brek closed his eyes. ‘There is a rumour in the south that Shaman Yanti has found the apiki flower,’ he said. ‘The healing flower. The flower that will save –’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ said the tree. ‘We’ve all heard of this flower. We all know it is the only thing that can heal this land.’

  ‘There is an evil presence in the mountains. A shadow wolf.’ Brek opened one eye and looked at Kai. The boy’s face had turned pale and his eyes were wide. The berries lay forgotten in his hand.

  The branches around them began to shake. ‘Do not speak to me of this stapa, this creature of the night.’ The tree sounded weary. ‘When I look at him, I see only darkness. I cannot tell you what he will do.’

  ‘That is not my question.’ Brek had both eyes open now. ‘My question is this: King Eamon is riding out with his soldiers to meet Mugadi, the leader of the Dasa Warriors. The mountain is difficult to pass at the best of times, and I’m certain Shaman Yanti has cast one of his curses –’

  ‘This is a long question,’ the tree interrupted.

  ‘Ah, but it’s a good one,’ countered Brek. ‘Now, where was I?’

  ‘Shaman Yanti and his curses,’ said the tree.

  ‘Right,’ said Brek. ‘Now, you know as well as I do that the king will never make it over the mountain. We have seen it in the smoke. I suspect that Mugadi has already made a deal with the Emperor of Moto. It is only a matter of time before the Dasa Warriors and the Emperor of Moto march into Ballyndor.’

  ‘No!’ Kai hadn’t meant to speak, but he couldn’t help it. What was Brek talking about? What did he mean his father was riding out to meet Mugadi? He thought about the images he had seen in the smoke – the huge army, the emperor on his elephant, the villages of Gort burning to the ground.

  ‘Hush boy,’ said the tree, but its voice was not unkind. ‘Now Brek, get to the point.’

  Brek drew a deep breath. ‘My question is this – what happens now? The shaman’s magic is powerful and it clouds my sight. I cannot see the next move to make. It is a deadly game we are playing this time, my friend.’

  ‘Well, it’s a good question, I’ll give you that.’ The tree sounded serious. ‘Let’s see what we’ve got for you.’

  There was a low rumbling and a shaking of branches. Kai waited, his heart beating fast. Brek was still smiling at him, but his smile was brief and the muscles in his face were tense.

  The tree began to chant.

  This night you will pass without sleeping,

  With the veil thin, the way opens fair,

  The flower waits on the mountain,

  And the wildcat watches her there.

  Pass through the cold halls of turquoise,

  To the towers and bridges of glass,

  Stay away from the men of the mountain,

  Or the grey wolf will not let you pass.

  Soar on the wings of a red owl,

  Face one who is not as he seems,

  Take his most precious of treasures,

  And fly to the Island of Dreams.

  Kai let the words tumble through his head. Halls of turquoise, bridges of glass, the Island of Dreams – what did it all mean? The flower on the mountain was surely a reference to the apiki flower, wasn’t it? But the wildcat and the wolf sounded bad – and what did the red owl have to do with anything?

  ‘Come, Kai,’ said Brek, gathering his cloak around him. ‘Don’t try to work it out: it will only give you a headache. These things always become clearer as you go along.’

  ‘One more thing,’ said the tree to Brek. ‘Do not send the warrior and do not go yourself – the shaman will destroy you both. Kai and Indie must go alone.’

  Brek’s face turned pale.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ said the tree. ‘If you are late, the children will have to walk to the mountain.’

  chapter 4

  Terrible Consequences

  Kai sat alone on the branch outside Aunty Mai’s window. He could hear his aunt’s voice, hushed and urgent, and Brek’s voice, calm and deep.

  ‘The king will wander on the mountain until he loses his mind,’ said Brek. ‘We both know the power of the shaman.’

  ‘But Okowa is a dangerous time.’ Aunty Mai clunked a large porridge pot onto the table. ‘The veil between the worlds is thin. What if something goes wrong?’

  ‘They are the only ones who can do it.’ There was a rattle of cutlery as Brek sat down, the clink of bowls being passed. ‘They are the only ones with the power to climb the mountain, and the only ones who will be strong enough to save the king when they get there.’

  ‘But what if they can’t get through the ice caves? What if they end up just as lost as all the others?’

  ‘Kai is no fool. He’ll find a way.’

  ‘And the shaman? If the apiki flower exists and he actually knows where it is, what makes you think he will help them find it?’

  ‘I have a feeling –’

  ‘A feeling!’

  The hushed conversation stopped, and Kai saw Aunty Mai at the window. She called up to him, ‘Are you there, Kai? Your breakfast is ready.’

  He crawled slowly along the branch. It was as if he was caught in a whirlwind – Brek’s words had picked him up and flung him in the air, tossing him in circles until he didn’t know which way was up.

  He had to take Indie to a cursed mountain where forest magic wouldn’t work. He had to save the king and his soldiers. Then he had to avoid the Dasa Warriors and the army of Moto, search for an evil shaman who would probably turn them into slugs, and convince the shaman to help them find a flower that didn’t exist.

  Brek was crazy.

  There was no way he could do it.

  Aunty Mai sat in her chair and looked intently at her nephew. She reached out and took his hand. ‘Today the people of the forest will celebrate the arrival of autumn. There will be singing and dancing, and –’

  ‘I know,’ Kai interrupted. He fidgeted with his spoon. ‘I have to tell Mum,’ he said. ‘She’ll be worried.’

  Brek looked at him closely. ‘Your mother will be fine,’ he said. ‘Dargan will talk to her.’

  'She doesn't want me to use magic – ’

  'What nonsense,' said Aunty Mai. 'She used it all the time when she was your age. Why, I can still remember her scaring us all silly with the lightning in her fingers'.

  Kai stared her. Kalika magic. His mother? He didn't believe it for a second.

  'I can't go anyway,' he said slowly. ‘I promised Dad I would look after Indie.’

  ‘Indie is the Emerald Child, heir to the throne of Ballyndor,’ Brek said. ‘She can look after herself.’

  ‘Well ... forest magic doesn’t work on the mountain,’ said Kai. ‘Aunty Mai said so.’

  ‘I did say that.' Aunty Mai pushed back her chair. ‘But that was before I found out your father was in danger. We have to do what we can, Kai. We can’t leave him to freeze to death.’

  ‘Hush, Mai. If Kai doesn’t want to be involved, that’s his decision.’ Brek pressed his fingers together and closed his eyes.

  Kai breathed out. It was all going to be okay. Dargan and Brek would go. They would have a much better chance of finding the flower and saving the king. They were grown men, warriors – not just a couple of kids.

  He should have been happy, but he had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. ‘The shaman will destroy you,’ the Seeing Tree h
ad said to Brek. What if it were true? What if Dargan and Brek couldn’t save his father? What if they went into the mountains and never came back?

  Brek leaned back in his chair. ‘It’s your decision, Kai. But I should let you know – if you don’t go to the mountain, the consequences will be dire and dreadful.’

  Kai put down his spoon and pushed his bowl away.

  ‘Yes, dire and dreadful and … er …’ Brek opened one eye and glanced at him, then quickly closed it again, ‘… dastardly.’

  ‘Dastardly?’ Kai felt sick. He didn’t know what it meant, but it sounded bad.

  ‘Yes, dastardly,’ said Brek, and he finished both bowls and the remainder of the pot without another word.

  *

  Indie climbed down the ladder from Aunty Mai’s bedroom, rubbing her eyes. She hadn’t slept very well. She had lain awake listening to the leaves swishing against the window, the wind murmuring in the branches.

  She ate her porridge quickly, and then she sat on the floor with the injured Dasa boy. He seemed to have recovered, but Aunty Mai insisted he rest against the cushions with his breakfast on a tray. He didn’t apologise to Indie, and she wondered if he remembered pushing her.

  ‘The leader of the Dasa Warriors is a man called Mugadi,’ he said as she passed him a spoon.‘Have you heard of him? He has blocked the road through the mountains so no one can get through. He says Ballyndor is weak and the blockade will make it weaker.’

  Indie stared at him. ‘Who are you?’ she asked. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  The boy swallowed. ‘My name is Jabar. It’s a gypsy word. My mother’s people were gypsies from Moto. The gypsies have been crossing the mountains for centuries to trade with the people of Ballyndor. My mother was angry with Mugadi. She told him it was wrong to stop the gypsies trading.’

  Indie could see the darkness in his eyes. ‘What happened to her?’ she asked.

  ‘On my mother’s last trip to Ballyndor she was captured and imprisoned. Mugadi would not send anyone to find her.’