Six Heirs

by Pierre Grimbert

  He took his turn disappearing behind the phenomenon, only to return shortly after, grave and silent. Yan tried walking through the barrier himself.

  He expected to feel something, but that wasn’t the case. He walked straight forward, slowly, staring at a precise point in the landscape. An instant later he found himself facing the back of the cavern.

  He turned around, curious to see what he was going to discover. There was still a magnificent valley in front of him, but not exactly the same. Or really, the same place, but seen from a different angle. Perhaps what you might see standing in the green valley on the other side of the door, if you turned around to look behind.

  An enormous hand appeared from the sky, waved around for a moment, then disappeared. A foot, then an entire leg, came next, soon followed by the rest of Bowbaq’s body.

  The giant had a numb look on his face. He didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. Whatever this thing was, it was beautiful. And impossible.

  What they were doing was surely forbidden. He had the strange feeling he was violating a secret. And it reminded him too much of an unpleasant memory from his past, one he wanted to forget.

  He returned to the other side of the cavern, leaving Yan alone with the landscape.

  It all looked so peaceful. So calm. And as beautiful as it was inaccessible. As if nothing were real.

  But he saw things. He could hear them. Squinting his eyes, concentrating, he could even make out the flowers swaying in a gentle breeze, or catch sight of a bird in flight.

  He concentrated and leaned toward the vision, as if to caress the leaves of one of those strange and wonderful plants, but his fingers felt nothing but emptiness. It saddened him more than he’d expected.

  He stood up and was about to join his friends, who were laughing on the other side of the gateway, when something caught his eye.

  Someone was in the landscape.

  “Come quick! Look!”

  All his friends were soon at his side, rendered mute at his discovery.

  Around two hundred yards away—assuming just one stride would bring them to the grass on the other side—a young boy walked about, admiring the sky.

  He must have been four or five years old. He had the look of the people from the Upper Kingdoms, and could have been from Lorelia, Ith, or even Romine. Or from some other country; the blondness of his hair and his total nudity gave little hint as to his origins.

  By instinct, Léti waved to him, before realizing that he wasn’t looking in their direction. She began to call to him as loudly as she could, hoping to get his attention.

  The child sat down on the grass a couple of hundred feet away, turning away from them. He hadn’t heard her greetings, or perhaps just ignored them.

  “Yan, help me!” Léti asked.

  The young man nodded, and they yelled at the same time, with all their force.

  The child lifted his head and turned toward them. He didn’t seem joyous, or scared. He simply watched them with his big eyes.

  Léti waved to him again. They all held their breath. Bowbaq forced himself to smile, not knowing why.

  The child stood and came toward them at a lazy stroll. He stopped from time to time to contemplate one thing or another along the way, and didn’t continue until Léti encouraged him.

  He stopped only thirty feet from them and tranquilly stared at them, one hand in his mouth. Léti repeated her greeting for the tenth time at least.

  The little boy smiled and clumsily imitated her wave, looking happy.

  Léti felt an unbridled joy and couldn’t explain why.

  Yan figured something out. If the child could see them, just as they saw the other world, it was proof that he existed. It existed.

  “Hello!” Léti began sweetly, still smiling, “What’s your name?”

  He looked at her without reacting. He soon focused his attention on Grigán, who had, up until then, kept himself from making any gestures. The warrior awkwardly waved, which seemed to be enough to satisfy the child, who responded to him as warmly as he had to Léti.

  They all started to greet him with “hello” and “hi,” and each of them got a response. But the boy never spoke.

  Finally he turned his head to his left, his attention diverted by something else. Despite Léti’s desperate efforts to keep him there, he walked straight out of the vision.

  As if to signal the end of the performance, the image wavered and became opaque, before turning into a dazzling light that progressively dimmed, leaving them alone with the cavern’s shadows. A whistle rose up, then went silent.

  It was over.

  They stood there, speechless, motionless. It was gone. The magic had disappeared.

  Léti felt a tear roll down her cheek, then another, then even more. She cried silently, not knowing why. Turning toward her companions, she realized that many of them had glistening eyes. Even the proud, powerful Grigán.

  Now she understood why all of the heirs returned from the island sad.

  “Does it always have this effect?”

  “Especially the first time,” her aunt answered. “You get used to it eventually, as with anything. And then you only think about the beauty of it all.”

  “What did we see, exactly?” Rey asked. “Do you know where that place is?”

  “So, you’ve finally come to accept it,” Grigán said, scoffing.

  “It’s a wise man’s strength to know his errors, the proverb says. I would add that you didn’t really try all that hard to convince me!”

  “The facts speak better on their own,” Corenn said. “To answer your question, no, unfortunately, we do not know where it is. But that is where Nol the Strange brought our ancestors.”

  “And?” Léti asked, wiping away her tears. “What did they see there?”

  Corenn sighed before responding. They could feel the regret in her voice.

  “That part of the secret disappeared with them. They never spoke of it.”

  They all reflected on this revelation. Bowbaq was happy that nothing ominous had happened. Léti and Rey were frustrated they couldn’t learn more. And Yan had the feeling that his life had just taken a new direction. He knew that from now on, his curious mind would know no rest, nor tedium, so long as he hadn’t yet penetrated the mystery of the gateway.

  “Did the Sages say how they crossed to the other side? I mean, I’m sure we wouldn’t have needed much to do the same. Maybe an object, a magic formula...”

  “The story goes that they simply held hands before crossing onto the grass,” Corenn answered. “But we have already tried, in vain,” she added, seeing the surprised looks of the youngest members of the group. “For all this time, the heirs have tried everything to pass to the other side. Unsuccessfully.”

  “Except for once,” Grigán corrected.

  “That’s right, except for once. Queff, Bowbaq’s own grandfather, offered a plon to the boy on the other side; the boy approached like the little boy just now, stuck out his hand, and took the fruit.”

  “You mean to say that a kid came out of the vision, that he took the plon and walked off without saying a word?” Rey exclaimed.

  “Only his hand,” corrected Corenn, “but I can’t confirm it, none of us had been born at the time.”

  “Maybe the gateway only works in one direction?” Léti proposed.

  “No, not if you consider that the Sages used it,” Grigán disagreed.

  “You know, we could make a mountain of gold with this thing,” Rey said, grinning.

  Five skeptical gazes turned his way.

  “I’m joking, I’m joking. Rest assured, I truly intend to respect my oath.”

  “Did it reveal anything to you, Lady Corenn? I mean about our enemy?”

  “Sadly, no, Yan. We were lucky enough to see one of the children, which is pretty rare, but nothing unique happened, as I had hoped.”

  “In my opinion,” Rey said, “the guy who sent the Züu on our trail has found the way to pass through to the other side. A
nd he wouldn’t like it if we made it there, too, for some reason that only he knows.”

  “That’s also what I think. But I was expecting to see him tonight. Unless, perhaps, his discovery was even more incredible, and has allowed him to pass through this gateway, or another, at any given time...”

  “Another gateway?” four voices repeated in unison.

  Corenn looked at them one by one, and understood that, apart from Grigán, her companions had no idea what she was talking about.

  “I obviously have a lot to tell you,” she began. “We know that this one exists, and we suppose that a similar gateway is located on the other side. Which led our ancestors to think there could be other ones. So they began their search, as discreetly as possible—because their respective governments were still spying on them at the time. By rummaging through archives from geographical institutions throughout the known world, they found traces of two other doorways.”

  “The first one was found in Jérusnie, the far western province of the Romine Kingdom. But what little indication they had of its whereabouts was approximate, and they never found it. It was easier for the second one, renowned in the Upper Kingdoms: the Sohonne Arch.

  “The Grand Arch?” Bowbaq said, surprised. “The Grand Arch of Arkary? A gateway?”

  “What is it?” Léti asked.

  “A sort of bridge in the middle of nowhere,” Rey responded. “According to legend, it’s one of the five ancient human wonders of the known world, along with Mount Crépel’s stairway, the Kenz temple, the fossil pyramids, and the pillars of Corosta. But it’s nothing more than a useless bridge above the snow!”

  Corenn objected. “It’s not a bridge. A bridge would have been designed differently, unless it were very poorly conceived. It’s a gateway.”

  “I myself have been there,” Grigán interjected. “In some parts, which are still intact, the interior of the Arch is adorned with the same marks as here.”

  “That’s a bit much for tonight,” Rey declared. “You make it sound like the supernatural is everywhe—”

  “But it is everywhere! I am the Mother in charge of Traditions on the Kaul Matriarchy’s Permanent Council,” Corenn said portentously. “It is my job to be rigorous, logical, and intelligent. But can I explain the Ézomine stones? The Vines of Karadas? The Stone Tree? No. And yet these things exist, even if they escape our understanding. Can I explain the gateway of Ji? No. But it exists too. Just like the others.”

  Rey reflected before responding. “All right, I believe you. Why not, after all?”

  Yan mused on all these mysterious names he had just heard. He promised himself to ask Corenn about all of these things sometime soon. The world suddenly seemed vast.

  “I suggest we finish this conversation later,” Grigán said. “We should leave the island before dawn.”

  A suggestion from the warrior had the same effect as an order. They regretfully turned toward the exit, after making sure they left no trace of their passage, and started on their way back.

  “Aunt Corenn, in your opinion...The garden, the mountains, what are they?”

  “I would say, maybe it’s a thing that we find in every religion. Paradise?”

  They made their way out in a mournful silence. Rey couldn’t stand it for very long. He was sad, inexplicably sad, much like his companions. So he made a token effort at cheer, devoting himself to his favorite pastime: annoying Grigán.

  “Do we really have to walk so fast? That’s twice now that I’ve almost fallen!”

  The warrior taunted him in turn. “Once it’s actually happened, let me know, Kercyan. The women aren’t complaining.”

  “How sensitive of you,” commented Léti. “May I ask why we should have more reason to complain than you men?”

  The warrior didn’t answer. He had learned to ignore the young woman’s rebellions as much as the actor’s barbs. It made life easier, but didn’t soothe his sour stomach. Far from it, actually.

  In any case, his priority for the moment was to get them off the island and return to the mainland before dawn. Which would be impossible if they continued to dawdle as they had in the cave with the arch.

  What Corenn was expecting, which is to say an event even more spectacular than usual, or a meeting with their enemy, had not materialized. The visit to Ji didn’t reveal any answers. It simply allowed them to eliminate a few hypotheses.

  But Grigán’s instinct didn’t fail him. If there was no one in the cave, there would certainly be someone waiting for them at their exit. He couldn’t explain it, even to himself, but he was sure. This was the kind of intuition that had saved his life more than once.

  “Grigán, my friend,” Bowbaq said, “It seems like you’ve spent your whole life on this island. You scurry between the rocks like you’ve known this path for years.”

  “Well, it’s true, you know. That was the ninth time I witnessed the phenomenon.”

  He went quiet, hesitant to continue.

  “I hope there are more to come. I’ve always liked round numbers,” he added, to lighten the mood.

  “Speaking of numbers, how many people have you killed?” asked Léti.

  “I don’t keep count like that,” he snarled. “I leave that to the Züu.”

  “I just had an idea,” she went on. “What if we hired a Zü to kill the other ones for us?”

  “This little one’s resourceful.”

  “I’m not little.”

  “My sincere apologies. But my compliment was sincere.”

  Rey could be charming and despicable at the same time. Léti never knew how to react to him—fall in love or detest him. At least with Yan she knew how she felt. But the young man was always so reserved.

  “Snuff out your torches,” Grigán asked. “We’re getting close to the beach. From this moment on, I ask that you make as little noise as possible, and this time do it for real.”

  They complied. The warrior climbed on top of a rock and, looking toward their boats, watched attentively. Not long after, Rey did the same.

  “Do you see anything?” Bowbaq whispered.

  “I think we’re on an island,” Rey answered. “There’s water all around us.”

  “I know we’re on an island,” the giant explained. “Rey, my friend, I don’t understand you sometimes.”

  “It was a joke, Bowbaq, my friend,” said the actor as he slid from his perch. “Just a joke. You can’t see a thing.”

  “Which doesn’t mean nothing’s there,” Grigán added. “Let’s go. Very slowly.”

  They followed the warrior for a while, until he signaled a stop.

  “I’m going ahead,” he whispered. “Wait for me here.”

  He slipped away into the darkness, bow in hand, as he had done for his companions so many times before.

  But this time, things would not turn out so well.

  He refused to admit it, of course. But he went much faster, more discreetly, and thus more safely, when he was alone.

  Despite the goodwill and effort of—almost—all of his companions, the group made for easy prey. They were too numerous, too loud, and worse, most of them weren’t fighters.

  Grigán felt responsible for them, like a father with his children. And he had to do his best to keep them safe. He took this responsibility on himself and took a certain pride in it, despite the constant disagreements.

  Like a shadow, he emerged through an opening a little bit larger than the others, walled in on either side by a large boulder stuck in the sand. The beach wasn’t much farther. He could already hear the sea.

  He crouched down and inched forward, hidden by a slanted boulder. He’d long ago stopped worrying about the ridiculousness of such postures. Many battles had been won by seemingly ridiculous people, or excessively cautious ones.

  He leaned against the rock, all of his senses alive, and analyzed the layout of the terrain. Where would an ordinary person hide for an ambush? Over there, surely. In that corner formed by the two huge boulders.

  He pr
oceeded to circle around, using anything he could for cover, every relief, every spot blanketed in shadow. Soon, he neared his goal.

  He set down his bow and quiver, arming himself with just a throwing dagger. Then he slowly poked his head out of his hiding place, just enough for a quick glance.

  He was right, which brought him only a fleeting moment of satisfaction.

  A man was hiding there, leaning against the rock, a sword in hand. He kept looking toward the path. The path that Grigán, Corenn, and the others would have taken.

  He wasn’t a Zü, more likely a low-level thief from the Guild, of the kind that Yan and Rey described. The man didn’t do his job very well, anyway. Grigán was sure he could get rid of him in less than two heartbeats.

  But where there is one, there are others, the proverb says. Maybe many more. Definitely enough for an ambush.

  Under these conditions, a reconnaissance mission all the way to the beach was impossible. Opportunities for coverage were too few and far between. And he had to warn his companions, before they started to get noisy again.

  The best thing to do was to lose their enemies in the labyrinth; maybe to eliminate them in isolated combat. At dawn, he would reassess the situation.

  While figuring out this problem, he had started to return when a cry shredded the silence.

  The voice was Léti’s.

  Grigán had been gone for some time now, and Rey was beginning to get impatient. It was hard enough for him to bear the attitude of the old man, as he had disrespectfully nicknamed Grigán, and his obsession with controlling everything. But the fact that he was wasting time on top of that was tough for Rey to swallow.

  The others waited obediently, their backs against rocks, or seated in the sand. They were all good people, sure, but far too timid for his liking. Apart from Léti, perhaps, they all seemed to accept the warrior’s orders as if they had done so their entire lives. Rey couldn’t go along with that.

  He clambered on top of a boulder and attempted to pierce the darkness of the night. But all he could see was the sea, a slightly darker color than the island, and he gave up.