The Lost Rainforest #2

by Eliot Schrefer

  Gogi knows Ravanna the First would be furious if he discovered them eating unripe nuts, but who’s a twelve to refuse anything to an eight? Gogi bounds up the tree to join Alzo. With Gogi pulling and Alzo chewing at the wood, they’re able to rip down a full branch. Alzo hauls it higher and higher up, until they’re out of view of any other capuchins that might wander by.

  They look nervously around before biting into the fruit. The hard flesh hurts Gogi’s gums, and tastes bitter. “I think we picked them too early,” he says sadly.

  “Yeah,” Alzo says, his face wrinkled. “Monkey-brain problems. Mom always said it would take a few years to grow out of it. Guess I still have a ways to go.”

  The troop spends the year traveling the jungles of the north, moving to a tree once its fruit is ripe, then moving on to the next after the first is emptied. Pick a tree too early, and the fruit is bitter and toxic. But it’s so hard to resist! Gogi’s monkey brain provides him with dozens of excuses (Birds will get to the fruit first! The tree might fall in the meantime! What if beetles infest the tree before they can eat?) in order to eat fruit that doesn’t taste very good and would be much sweeter in a few days anyway.

  It’s one of the reasons he and Alzo are always getting into trouble—they bring out the worst monkey brain in each other.

  “We should have a code word for when one of us is getting monkey brain,” Gogi says, letting the inedible fruit drop from his fingers, wasted. He starts climbing higher in the tree, to make sure no one better ranked catches him eating the palm nuts too early. “Like we could shout out ‘monkey brain’!”

  “That’s a very clever code word,” Alzo says dryly as he follows Gogi up the branches.

  “Okay, maybe we could come up with something—wait, what is that?” Gogi says, sitting up straight and pointing.

  Alzo huddles next to Gogi and begins grooming him for comfort. “What are we seeing?” he asks, voice trembling.

  Trying to get out of sight means they’ve gone higher up the tree than any of the capuchins normally would. That means they get a view of the next valley over, the marmosets’ territory. Capuchins aren’t particularly fond of marmosets, but that doesn’t mean they would ever wish anything like this on them.

  The trees are all knocked down. It’s not from a typhoon or anything—the capuchins would have heard that. The trees have been leveled. Where once was leafy green is now the slick brown of upturned earth, speckled with white and the mossy greens of fungus. It’s all shining, as if it’s wet—or swarming with insects.

  “What happened to the forest?” Alzo asks.

  Gogi is already scampering down the trunk. “We have to warn the others. Hurry, Alzo!”

  Ravanna the First is not pleased. “What do you mean, you were up at the top of the nutty palm? It’s not ripe yet!” He leans forward, teeth bared, as he takes Gogi and Alzo in shrewdly. “I can smell unripe fruit on you. Naughty monkeys!”

  “The palm nuts aren’t what matters!” Gogi protests, then shrinks back before Ravanna’s enraged expression. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, they matter, of course, but not as much as what’s happened to the marmosets. You have to come see! Their land has all been mowed down, we think by ants! All the marmosets are gone!”

  “You may have risen from seventeen,” Ravanna says, “but that doesn’t mean you may speak out of turn, Gogi the Twelfth.”

  “Especially not to a number one,” Alzo adds.

  “Alzo!” Gogi mutters. “Have my back here!”

  “If this is about your new Ant Queen–alert system,” Ravanna says, “I’m frankly getting tired of hearing about it. The Ant Queen is a myth. She doesn’t exist.”

  “She’s not a myth!” Gogi says indignantly. “I met her! And her minions are about to invade our homeland.”

  “Yes, she is a myth,” Ravanna says. “And don’t start in on how you and some creepy nightwalkers brought down the ‘ziggurat.’ I won’t tolerate being lied to.”

  “Nightwalkers eat monkey babies, everyone knows that,” Lansi and Pansi add in unison.

  “They do not,” Gogi says. Even in the current crisis, his thoughts go to the friends he made a year ago, the fellow shadowwalkers born during the eclipse, who as a result developed magical powers and the ability to walk both by day and by night. After facing the evil of the Ant Queen and Auriel, the treacherous boa constrictor, Gogi returned home with a mission: he’d get the nearby animals unified, daywalker and nightwalker alike, to defend their land against the unleashed menace of the Ant Queen. That way, the moment she finally showed herself, the shadowwalkers could unite to defend Caldera from her.

  It’s been a little harder than he predicted. Daywalkers really hate nightwalkers. And maybe Gogi did get a little distracted over the last year, by new friends and so many good fruits to eat. But he’s back on track now!

  At the thought of the ants milling on the next rise, Gogi forces his worry down so he can present a calm face to Ravanna. He knows from a lifetime of being low-ranked that there’s no surer way of losing Ravanna’s attention than seeming more upset than he is. It’s taken Gogi forever to become a twelve (bliss!), and it would only take one quick moment for him to drop back down to seventeen (or worse!). “Please consider coming with me up to the top of the nutty palm, Ravanna the First,” Gogi says evenly, “so that I can show you something that might pique your interest.”

  Ravanna, nose in the air, considers Gogi’s request. He nods. “I will allow it.”

  The troop follows as Gogi and Alzo lead Ravanna along the jungle floor until they’re all climbing the nutty palm. Ravanna goes serious once he’s at the top and can see the devastation the next hillside over. “I see why you would be concerned, Gogi the Twelfth.”

  Gogi smiles. Alzo grooms him, sharing in the good feeling.

  Ravanna continues. “But there is no need to worry. Ants have destroyed that stretch of forest, it is true. But no ant would dare do the same to capuchin monkey territory. Not with Ravanna the First in charge.”

  Gogi watches, mouth agape, as the rest of the capuchins—even Alzo—screech and scream their agreement.

  “Forgive me, Ravanna,” Gogi says, “but—”

  “Enough, Gogi. We are well familiar with your weird nightwalker sympathies and your alarmist theories,” Ravanna says, yawning. It makes him look bored, but it’s actually a way of showing his teeth as a warning. “Despite any ‘ziggurat carvings’ you might have seen, no animal could walk on two legs. And ants do not go about conquering the rainforest. I’ve never seen that happen, and I’ve been around much longer than you have.”

  “Forgive me for speaking up yet again, Ravanna the First, but the ants have never had a queen before, so how can we know—”

  “Enough!” Ravanna says, his yawns turning to full threats, teeth gnashing.

  Alzo tugs at Gogi’s tail. “Come on, Gogi-Goge, listen to Ravanna the First. Let’s get going.”

  Gogi wants to keep pressing his case, but a lifetime of instincts brings him cringing submissively and racing down the trunk, obeying Ravanna at any cost. That’s just what a capuchin does when a number one tells him what to do; there’s no changing it. Once Gogi’s at the bottom and cowering off to one side, Ravanna bounds by with the rest of the capuchins.

  Like that, Gogi’s hopes of warning his troop are gone. He almost sends a flare of fire off into the sky, to get Ravanna’s attention back, but using his magic would be taken as a challenge for dominance, and that’s a fight Gogi would lose.

  Number eight and number twelve are alone again. Alzo gives Gogi a sympathy groom. “Don’t worry, buddy,” he says, picking out a tick and eating it. “You did your best.”

  “Clearly I didn’t!” Gogi says. “What is Ravanna going to do when the ants come to destroy our home like they did the marmosets’? Bare his teeth and throw poop at them?”

  “Yeah!” Alzo says. “That’ll show ’em!”

  “No,” Gogi says, wagging his head. “We’re talking about ants. That will not ‘sh
ow ’em.’”

  “Well, what are you going to do?” Alzo asks.

  “What can I do? I’ll continue as planned, head back to the ziggurat ruins and check in with my friends. Maybe they’ve had more luck than I have.”

  Alzo lets out a low whistle. “If you’re not here to keep up your position, you might drop back in rank while you’re gone. What if when you come back you’re a lowly seventeen again? I’m not sure we could hang out anymore.”

  “Alzo!”

  “Gogi, that was a joke!” Alzo says, shrugging. “Seriously, even for a capuchin, you’re a little too ranking-obsessed. I barely even think about the fact that I’m an eight.”

  “It’s because you’re an eight that you’re able to do that,” Gogi says. “I can’t afford not to worry about it. Anyway, if those ants decide to cross the river and invade this part of the rainforest, I might come back as Gogi the First.”

  Alzo cocks his head. “I don’t get it.”

  “‘First’ because it will be a capuchin troop of one,” Gogi explains, with a hollow laugh.

  Alzo lets out an even lower whistle. “Wow. I get what you’re saying now. That’s dark. Back to what I was trying to say. Don’t confuse rankings with actual relationships, okay?”

  “Fine,” Gogi says. “Alzo, come with me to the ruins. I’ll introduce you to my friends. We’ll work together to stop the Ant Queen—and save our troop too, since Ravanna’s so intent on ignoring the danger.”

  “No way,” Alzo says. “We wouldn’t be here for when the nutty palm ripens! How could we pass that up?”

  Gogi shakes his head. “I hear you, Alzo. But can’t you see that the Ant Queen is a bigger concern?”

  “Nope. Can’t, really.”

  Gogi shakes his head. “Capuchins.”

  “I’m kidding, Gogi,” Alzo says. “I’m not that shallow. But I don’t think I could spend time with nightwalkers like you do. They’re spooky.”

  Gogi sighs. “At least help me with packing?”

  “‘Packing’?” Alzo asks. “What’s that?”

  “You’ve never packed a bag before?”

  “What’s a bag?”

  “You really need to get out more,” Gogi says.

  AS THEIR FINAL good-bye, Gogi and Alzo spend a warm afternoon prodding each other’s closed eyes with their fingers. It feels good, trusting someone else’s fingernails near your eyeballs. Gogi would find it hard to explain to his shadowwalker friends. Sometimes it’s just a monkey thing.

  Alzo watches Gogi prepare his traveling sack. It’s made of woven fibers, two cords tied so the pouch can go across one shoulder and drape along his chest, tight so it won’t snag on any branches as he scampers along unfamiliar treetops. When Gogi first headed to the ziggurat after Auriel called him there, well over a year ago, it was the only possession he brought with him.

  “That used to belong to your mother, right?” Alzo asks.

  Gogi nods, not saying anything so he won’t have to hear his own choked-up voice. His mother went out to forage one day soon after Gogi was weaned, and never returned. It was probably a harpy eagle that got her. Having no mother in the troop is what started Gogi out in life with so low a ranking. If he climbs closer to number one, though, he’ll have done his mother’s memory proud.

  Inside his mother’s pouch he places dried berries, the sharpened twig he uses to pick seeds out from between his teeth before bedtime (oral hygiene—very important), twelve small pebbles, and a pat of damp moss, useful for putting out any fires he inadvertently makes with his magic.

  It has been so long since he’s made any fire! In a monkey troop, unless you are on top, or have a plan to quickly come out on top, it’s best not to draw any attention. So, for his own safety under Ravanna the First’s rule, Gogi has only used his fire powers when he was sure he was totally alone. But soon he’ll be able to use them again!

  “What’s up with the pebbles?” Alzo asks.

  “Oh, those,” Gogi says. “It’s a little silly, I guess. After my mother . . . after she died, I scrabbled together seventeen pebbles, and I’ve tossed one away each time I rose in rank. I guess I sort of imagine that she knows, and she’ll be proud of me?”

  “I bet she’d be proud of you anyway,” Alzo says quietly.

  “That’s nice of you, Alzo,” Gogi replies. “Good-bye, friend. I’ll miss you!”

  “You too, Gogi-Goge. Ooh, look, mushy bananas!” Alzo scampers off.

  Shaking his head, Gogi tiptoes along the treetops, away from the ant devastation and toward the ruins of the ziggurat. Dread pools in his stomach at the thought of leaving his troop. It’s just not something monkeys are supposed to do. And though he saw only ant hordes ravaging the marmoset land and not the queen herself, he can’t get the thought out of his mind that some evil plot is definitely afoot.

  Before he’s realized it, he’s slowed down to a crawl. If he lets himself get this worried and depressed, how will he help his friends once he meets up with them? Luckily, he knows just the thing to make himself feel better. Gogi sits with his back against an ironwood tree and holds his cupped hands out. He concentrates.

  In between his palms appears a small flicker of flame. Yep, still got it!

  Gogi allows the fire to grow. He means for it to increase in height, just an inch or two, but some of the flame licks sideways instead, singeing his hair. Gogi howls, dropping his hands. The flame is extinguished right as it reaches the ground. That could have been a disaster! Apparently, not using his ability for a while makes it go rusty. At least there’s plenty of time to practice.

  Heartened, Gogi holds tight to his mother’s pouch, and the twelve pebbles inside it, and hurries along on his way.

  Gogi thought he’d made good mental notes of what he passed when he traveled from the ruined ziggurat back to his homeland a year ago, but now it’s so hard to remember. Is he supposed to ford the tan-colored river above or below the falls? Is he supposed to follow the tops of the kapok trees, or hop along the trunk of the fallen wimba? Both routes end up in the same place, but it turns out one way involves falling into a bed of nettles, and the other does not. Ouch.

  Eventually, though, he makes it to Agony Canyon, the last obstacle before the ziggurat. This was the place he first met Mez the panther, Rumi the tree frog, and Lima the bat. He’d be seeing them all soon! Gogi starts whistling.

  As he crosses the vine bridge, he causes smoke to rise from his skin. It’s something he’s been experimenting with along the journey—providing enough flame magic to get a good smoke up, but not enough to burn his hair. He coughs as the wet-smelling smoke wafts over his nose. It’s acrid and unpleasant, but there are no whiffs of burning monkey. Success!

  Gogi takes a deep breath. He’s leaving the normal rainforest now, and entering the place where the shadowwalkers met their biggest enemies.

  No point delaying, not when his friends are waiting for him! Gogi starts across the vine bridge, confident that the smoke surrounding him will keep any wasps at bay. It works. The few wasps that emerge from under the vine bridge are sluggish and aimless, batting harmlessly against Gogi’s side. Excellent.

  All this smoke makes it harder to see the actual bridge, though. Lucky that capuchin monkeys have prehensile tails! Gogi curls his tail tighter and tighter around the vines of the bridge, letting his smoke float off as he scampers over the raging river. Once he’s on the other side, Gogi rushes toward the ziggurat ruins.

  It’s only a little farther until he’s there at the spot where the shadowwalkers disbanded a year before. The tall trees around him sway, and mists roll out of the nearby jungle. But there is no sign of his friends. “Mez, Rumi, Lima!” he sings softly. “Mez, Rumi, Lima!”

  “Gogi!”

  He goes stock-still. “Yes?”

  “You’re here! You’re finally here!”

  “Rumi? Is that you?”

  A bright yellow blip skips into view, bouncing along the jungle floor until it’s leaping up to land on Gogi’s outstretched hand.
“Hi, Gogi!” Rumi says.

  Gogi cheers and gives the brainy little tree frog an affectionate tap on the head. “So good to see you, friend! Can you believe it’s been a year?”

  “I have so much to share with you,” Rumi says. “So many fascinating discoveries! There was more knowledge locked away in the ziggurat’s carvings than we ever knew, and after the structure fell apart, the interior carvings became visible. Come along, let’s go to the ruins. I bet you can’t wait to hear about everything I found.”

  “Give me a moment to put my bag down and have a snack first,” Gogi says. Rumi would be giving him plenty of in-depth lessons on Caldera history sooner or later, there was no doubting that. But as a low-ranked capuchin, Gogi has gotten plenty of ribbing from the other monkeys, and he isn’t looking forward to feeling dumb in a whole new place. “Has anyone else arrived yet? It’s nearly the rainy season, so this should be the time.”

  “Not yet,” Rumi says. “You’re the first one. Which means we can do a one-on-one seminar! Come on, to the ruins!”

  “I don’t know, Rumi,” Gogi says, even as he follows the tree frog, who’s bouncing along the jungle floor. “I’m just a monkey. It might not be the best use of your time to tell everything to me, because I won’t have that much to add. Maybe it’s best to wait until Mez gets here. A panther has a better chance of understanding than I do. And Lima . . .” Gogi pauses. Lima the bat has many wonderful qualities, is full of courage and cheer, but . . . “And Lima will be here soon too,” he finishes.

  “Okay, we can wait, that’s fine, all you had to do is ask. Look, I set us up a cozy little home,” Rumi prattles on. “Turn left up there, then go straight. There it is!”

  Gogi rubs his hands together. It’s been a long journey, and a nice snug rest sounds perfect.

  Whistling, he follows along after Rumi, then startles when he realizes the frog has stopped.