Nalia nodded. “Of course, you are correct. She would go for the artifact that would let her teleport. Sam and the Gray Man are the only ones who have ever been powerful enough to teleport without the aid of others. Except for the assassin Ix, of course, but her ability is a talent and not a use of the rohw. With that ability, it would be much easier for her to obtain the other two artifacts, or at least to go back to her home when she got each one. That is very clever of you, Dr. Walt.”
The old man bowed his head. “Thank you. I rather thought so myself. It didn’t take much of a nudge for you to figure it out. You are as clever as I am.”
“It is decided, then,” Rindu said. “As soon as we rescue the hapaki and the citizens of Blackwood, we will attempt to retrieve the artifact before Rasaad does.”
“Blackwood?” Torim Jet asked. “What is Blackwood?”
Sam told them quickly how they had come upon the half-destroyed village and the twins. “They didn’t want to come back with us. We’ll meet them tomorrow morning to continue on. They seem to have useful talents.”
“Emerius Dinn?” Danaba Kemp said. He had been quiet throughout the entire conversation. “Big guy, red hair, green eyes, built like he was chiseled from the raw rock of the mountain? And his sister, tall and muscular, but slenderer than him, also with reddish hair and bright green eyes?”
“Yes,” Sam said, “that’s them. Do you know them?”
“Not really. They came to Kempton one year for our archery contest. They outshot everyone who entered. Both of them. They can do things with arrows that shouldn’t be possible, and they were just teenagers then. Yes, they will be handy in a fight. They will be handy indeed.”
When Sam and the others teleported back to where they had left the twins, all they saw was the empty road.
“There’s no trace of them,” Sam said. “I mean, literally, there is nothing. No tracks, no camp, not even signs of that monster bear Oro. How is that possible?”
Rindu’s eyes went out of focus and he looked around. “They are very good,” the Zouy said. “Even using my rohw sight, I can see little of them, and nothing that tells of where they went. Still, it is no great mystery. They went east to find their brother. We must travel that way also. Perhaps we will meet them again.”
Sam wasn’t sure why, but he was disappointed. He thought the twins would be good allies. Sure, Emerius was kind of rough around the edges, but Sam saw good in him. He genuinely liked Inoria. She was more of a “people person.” Sam had just met her but already he felt comfortable with her. He thought they could be good friends.
“You are disappointed,” Nalia said. “It does not reflect on you, Sam. They are anxious to find their brother. We will meet them again. I am sure of it.” She smiled at him and the morning sunlight seemed to grow brighter.
“Thanks, Nal,” he said. “I’m sure you’re right. Like you always are.”
Two hours later, they turned a corner in the road and found the twins and Oro sitting in the shade, eating some type of dried meat.
“Hey, Sam,” Inoria said, “and good morning to you, Master Rindu and Nalia, and Skitter. Would you like some dried venison?”
The party stopped and dismounted. There was enough of the meat to give the rakkeben some as well. The wolves snapped it up hungrily, though it was seasoned and fairly spicy.
“We scouted ahead several miles,” Inoria said. “We were too anxious to wait around and wanted to get started doing something. The path is clear for at least five miles.”
“That was nice of you,” Sam said. “And we appreciate that you waited for us. I was disappointed when we didn’t find you this morning.”
“We’re a team,” Inoria said. “We won’t abandon you and we expect that you won’t abandon us.”
“We definitely won’t,” Sam said.
“So, Sam, you said that you were trying to learn how to identify different trees and plants. Would you like me to teach you some of what I know as we travel? It may make the time pass more quickly.”
“That would be fantastic,” Sam said. “I’d be honored to learn anything that you could teach me.”
“Are you really going to waste your time with that, In?” Emerius said. “He’ll never be a tracker and he’ll never learn herb lore. He’s too sophisticated for that.”
“Oh, don’t listen to him, Sam,” Inoria said. “He’s a perpetual pessimist. Tell me, can you identify any of the trees around us?”
“Yes,” Sam said, looking at Emerius. “I see some fir trees over there, and those are pine. Oh, and that tree is an oak—”
“But what kind of pine, and fir, and oak?” Inoria prodded him.
Sam scratched his head. “I’m not sure. It’s hard enough to identify the families of trees without going into the specific types. They never look the same in the wild as they do in books.”
“I understand, Sam. It’s a lot to learn. Here, let me show you a secret. You will look for four things: the overall shape of the tree, the leaves or needles, the fruit, and the bark. If you pay attention to those, most of the hard work is done. Here, let’s look at those pine over there and I’ll show you what I’m talking about.”
Sam passed two hours talking with Inoria and learning of the trees they passed as well as some of the shrubs covering the forest floor. By the time they stopped to rest the mounts, his mind was filled to brimming with what he had learned. He smiled at her as she went off with Emerius to scout the area.
As they continued in their travels, Sam divided his time between learning about the surrounding plants and trees from Inoria and learning more about wireh from Rindu.
“You must understand, Sam,” Rindu said, “the wireh encompasses everything the Zouyim are and stand for, but it is not just for the Zouyim. The wireh is the wireh, no matter who you are. There is but one true path and all who follow it are in harmony with the universe.”
“I still don’t understand exactly what the wireh is, though,” Sam said. “For that matter, I’m not sure I know what you mean by harmony. I have felt myself in harmony with the rohw. Aren’t the things I have been able to do proof that I was in harmony with it?”
“No,” Rindu said. “Sam, you must understand that although you have experienced harmony in one sense, grasping true harmonic motion still eludes you.”
The Zouy was silent for a moment as they bounced along on the backs of their rakkeben. “Do you remember when Nalia demonstrated for you the Song of Battle?”
“Of course,” Sam said. “I could never forget that.”
“Good. When she was singing, what did your body do?”
“It moved. It was almost like a dance. There was nothing I was doing consciously. The sound seemed to go through my body and make me move in a way that was compatible with the sound.”
“Compatible?” Rindu asked. “Do you mean that the sound caused your body to move in harmony with the song?”
“Well,” Sam said, “yes. I guess so.”
“Then you have felt the harmony of which I speak. It is not a simple acting together of two things, but a true melding, so that two become one. Do you understand this?”
Sam thought for a moment. “That makes sense, but I think that’s what I’ve been doing. When you and I meditate and you help me to channel the rohw, we are acting in harmony, right?”
“Yes and no,” Rindu said. “We will continue to work on this. When you have achieved harmony, you will know it, and then it will become clear. For now, let us focus on the wireh itself, for when you understand that which cannot be understood, you will have achieved that which is unachievable.”
“Um, okay,” Sam said, head reeling.
Chapter 27
Baron Tingai listened to Ayim Rasaad. She was intelligent, in her own way, though her mental abilities paled in comparison to his own. She was striking, though. Tall, with an athlete’s form, her motions graceful and powerful at the same time. He wondered what color her hair was. She must have shaved her head daily to keep it perfectly ba
ld with no stubble. The swirling tattoos across her scalp had a mesmerizing effect if one looked at them too closely.
Tingai found it interesting that she didn’t show the effects of using dark powers as all the Arzbedim had. He wondered what was different about her that kept her looking like a normal person. A normal person with a bald head covered in tattoos, that is. And there was the matter of the power she manifested. She seemed to glow, but when seen out of the corner of one’s eye, there appeared to be a penumbra, a dark halo, around her. It was eerie. He wasn’t sure if it was preferable to how the Arzbedim used to appear, maggot-like with no hair whatsoever and with red-rimmed eyes.
“Your experiments are secondary, Tingai,” she said. “The number one priority is to get the artifacts. Anything that does not contribute to that is optional. Do you understand me?”
“Of course, of course,” he responded. “I would never let my work interfere with the bigger picture. I would remind you, though, that my little experiments will come in handy if the new government is able to marshal forces to defy us.”
“You let me worry about our adversaries. We are on the verge of obtaining the first of the artifacts. With all three, no army on Gythe will be able to stand against us.”
“I understand. I will send half of my forces with your own to get the first artifact.”
“You will be coming with me,” Ayim Rasaad said. “After getting the artifact, I will be teleporting directly to my own fortress. You will be too far from me to be of any use if you stay here.”
“But my work—” Tingai started.
“—can be carried out at Gutu while we determine where the next artifact is. This is not a discussion. Prepare yourself and your followers to depart tomorrow.”
She left the room without looking back toward Tingai, as if he were of little consequence. Baron Tingai sighed. He would do as she said, of course. He was not under the misconception that they were equal partners. He served her. For now.
Tingai glanced at the mirror on the other side of the chamber. His long thin frame was hunched, as always. His black hair fell limply around his narrow, pale face. He looked into his own dark brown eyes, saw the skin beneath his eyes, how they were puffy and dark. Didn’t Rasaad know that to do his best, he needed to get adequate sleep?
He supposed it was his own fault, though. He could have bypassed that village instead of attacking it and taking more captives. They were a nuisance when traveling, so he pushed hard to get back to his home at Agago. Here, the captives could be stored out of the way in the extensive cages and dungeons until he had need for them.
Tingai had planned on resting and then starting his work in earnest, but he was anxious to begin with the hapaki so he had slept little in the time he’d been back, figuring he would catch up in the next day or two. That wasn’t going to happen now. He supposed that there was nothing he could do about it, so there was no use dwelling on the situation.
The scientist pondered his life for a moment. He hadn’t done badly for himself. He was able to conduct his research and the experiments he loved so much and he had all the resources he could want. It was a far cry from the child who found himself fascinated by life and the ways in which it could be made to adapt.
The memories he had of being very young were fond ones. He had found from an early age that creatures were willing to do extreme things to keep from dying. He studied this phenomenon carefully, catching and torturing insects and small animals and observing the actions they took to prevent their deaths. The interest soon grew into an obsession, with him spending as much of his time as he could in his studies. There were secrets there, waiting to be found. He was sure of it, and he was sure he wanted to discover all of them.
One day, he discovered a strange, mutated creature in the ruins not too far from where he lived. He thought it may have been a squirrel once, or at least one of its ancestors was. When he was finished inflicting pain and wounds on the creature and it had finally died, young Tingai started to question how it had come to be. Did someone create this creature or was is somehow left over from the time of the Great War, mutated creatures reproducing in an endless line to the one he had found? He decided to investigate.
After hours of picking through the rubble, he was ready to give up. As he was turning to leave, he saw the tracks of a small animal surrounding what looked like an animal burrow. The odd thing, though, was that the top of the burrow was made of some type of metal.
Tingai looked into the hole but couldn’t see anything. Not being able to think of anything else, he started digging with his hands. He was soon bleeding and found a tree branch lying on the ground nearby. The boy used it to dig and loosen the soil around the hole. He kept up for hours, finally opening the hole enough so he could enter, but did he dare?
It was dark inside and he wasn’t sure how deep it went. What if it was very deep? What if he fell and hurt himself and couldn’t climb back out? He dug more and removed the dirt while he thought. In the end, the decision was made for him. As he dug one more stroke with the stick, he heard it strike something hard. A rock? It didn’t sound like a rock.
He plunged the stick into the soil again and heard a metallic clank. His energy renewed, he quickly cleared the dirt from the source of the sound and found a long metal strip. Another fifteen minutes and he realized that the metal he had hit was one step in a set of stairs. He was able to clear part of another step in that amount of time. He was suddenly reassured that he would be able to get out of the hole if he went in because even if the steps were covered, there would be a mound of dirt he could climb up. He had decided; he was going down.
The young Tingai carefully crawled down the hole he had made, but didn’t get far. The dirt had accumulated over the centuries since the Great War and there was only a small opening. With no other choice, he spent the rest of the day digging. By the time the sun was going down, he was covered from head to toe in dirt, had bleeding hands, and had nothing else to show for his effort. Still, he was onto something, he knew he was. He would come back the next day and work on it some more. And this time, he would have the proper tools.
The next morning, he was up so early that his parents were not even awake when he left. They had chores for him to do, but he was able to sneak out without them seeing him. He would be in trouble when he came home, but that would be a minor inconvenience. They had tried punishing him before but it never worked.
With sticks and his striker to make torches, and a shovel and spade to dig with, he headed back to the ruins, determined to make progress. He worked all day, stopping only to eat the snacks he had brought, and by the end he had made a hole big enough for him to go through that descended more than ten feet underground. While digging, he had cleared the steps so that he could use them to easily go up and down with his shovel filled with dirt.
Still, he hadn’t found anything other than the stairs. He made a torch and waved it around, looking for anything interesting, but he only saw a small hole, about the size a badger would make, going down into whatever this place used to be. Too soon, the sun was going down again and he had to go back home. He left his tools hidden nearby so he wouldn’t have to carry them back the next day.
His parents yelled and blustered, but when it came down to it, they just impotently warned him to straighten up. They had his brothers and sisters to deal with, so they left him to his own devices.
Every day, Tingai went back to the hole he was gradually making bigger and bigger. It was amazing to him that the hole could go down so far. He daydreamed about what he would find when he finally reached the end. He hoped it would be something worthwhile.
Finally, five days after he had first brought the shovel, he plunged it into the dirt and it pushed through into empty air. Excited, he hurriedly dug the hole bigger, enough so he could crawl through. He took his torch from where he had thrust it into the dirt and squeezed through the opening he had made. What he saw made his eyes grow double in size.
He slid down the pile of
dirt and found himself in a large room with many counters with sets of drawers in front of them. They weren’t just square wooden boxes that slid in and out of a hole like the furniture he was familiar with. They were actually set on some kind of metal strip that made them open and close smoothly, with little effort. They were filled with objects he had never seen before.
On the tops of the benches were cages made of wire and glass, and many containers with liquid. One had been cracked, apparently from a piece of the ceiling that had dropped on it. From the crack was leaking some kind of thick yellow-brown liquid. Little footprints went through the puddle and out across the floor, toward the opening to the surface.
Tingai smiled. This liquid was responsible for the mutation in that creature he had found. Knowing better than to touch the liquid himself, he looked around the rest of the room. There were enough complex objects, liquids, and powders here to keep him busy for years in trying to figure out what they did. First he would clean up the dirt and then he would start experimenting. This was even better than he could have imagined.
After cleaning the room up, Tingai was able to rig up a door to keep his laboratory—he had decided that was what this room used to be—secret. He found, too, that there were two other rooms attached to the laboratory. There had been more, but the others were victims of collapses and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to get the dirt and rubble cleared.
Young Tingai spent all of his time in his new laboratory. He found some records in one of the other rooms that detailed the work that they did there. While most of it was completely foreign to him, he was able to pick out small details. With that information and endless experimentation first with insects and then with animals, he was soon able to cause changes in his subjects.
The devices in the lab didn’t work because there was no power source, but as he studied them he was able to utilize some of the basic concepts and make his own devices that helped with his work. He also taught himself how to distill out some of the active chemicals from local herbs. He knew the substances in the laboratory wouldn’t last forever, so he worked hard to find new ways of causing the changes he wanted to make.
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