~
Keris felt herself rising gently from a deep sleep. Weariness enveloped her like a shroud. There was an ache in her side and another in her right leg. She shifted her leg in response. It felt whole. But it had been broken–she was sure of it. Had she dreamed the whole thing? Was she still in her room at the Silver Flagon in Lind? She kept her eyes closed and sniffed at the odd scent which reached her nostrils. Wood.
She opened her eyes. The room–no, more of a chamber–that she was in, was nothing like the room at the Inn. She was lying on a collection of furs, piled beneath her on the floor. The floor and curved walls were of smooth wood. There was no other furniture or decoration of any kind. She looked down, realising she was naked. How…?
Too many questions. She had to start finding some answers. She pulled a fur around herself and got to her feet. Her legs felt like jelly, and she swayed a little but managed to stay upright. There was a single small round window. She walked to it slowly, still feeling very fragile, and had to grab the low sill to keep from sinking to her knees. She bent down and viewed the scene.
She was looking down at a forest, from what seemed like several hundred feet up. The chamber she was in was itself set within an immense tree, the lower parts of its trunk swallowed up by the forest below. She looked up. The trunk stretched skyward, disappearing in a profusion of branches and purple foliage.
There was a movement behind her. She turned to see one of the Chandara standing in the low entranceway to the chamber. It was standing upright, holding a wooden bowl loaded with fruits by its middle limbs. She noticed for the first time that their limbs ended in three jointed fingers. The creature waddled over to the pile of furs and set down the bowl. Then it turned to Keris and spoke in a high, thickly accented voice. Its mouth seemed to ripple from side to side as it spoke. “You Must Lie. Soon After The Healing.”
Not a dream then. Keris pulled the fur tighter around her. “Wh…where am I?” Her voice sounded in her ears like a croak.
“This Is The Great Tree.” Keris moved to the pile of furs, half collapsing on them. The Chandara continued, “There Is No Perridon. You Are Safe Here.” She flexed her right leg again, experimentally. A dull ache, but otherwise it seemed perfectly all right.
She gathered her wits. “My name is Keris. I am Keltar, on an important mission for the Prophet. I require your assistance. If you aid me, I will see to it that you are rewarded.”
The creature looked uncomprehending. Then its mouth rippled in the same peculiar way. “I Am Boxx.”
“I thought Chandara do not have names.”
“Chandara Do Not Have Names.” Keris was not sure whether it was agreeing with her, or merely repeating what she had just said. It added helpfully, “I Am Boxx.”
Keris felt as if she were getting a headache. She tried changing the subject. “I need my things, my clothes that I was wearing when I came here. Do you know where they are?”
“I Know.”
“Can you take me there?”
“I Can Take, But You Cannot. You Must Rest. Then You Must See Before. Then You Will Leave.”
Keris leaned back, feeling exhaustion claim her once again. Too tired to argue.
“Rest Now,” soothed the creature in its odd little voice. “Then You Must See Before.”
~
Keris awoke feeling invigorated. She was still lying on her bed of furs in the hollowed out part of “The Great Tree.” A Chandara was standing next to her, although she could not tell if it was Boxx, from earlier. She sat up.
“You Are Better.” It sounded more like a statement than a question, but she answered anyway.
“Yes, I am, thank you.”
It pointed a mid-forearm at the bowl. “Food.”
Keris realised for the first time that she was ravenous. She helped herself to the fruit, keeping an eye on the Chandara, but it merely watched her eat without moving. The fruit was sweet and delicious and soon she was feeling full. She wiped juice from the side of her mouth, feeling like a little girl. The creature pointed to the small entrance to the chamber.
“You Come.”
“I need my clothes,” she pointed out. It seemed not to understand. “My clothes. The things I was dressed in when I came here.”
The Chandara merely indicated the entrance once more.
“You Come.”
With an exasperated sigh, Keris wrapped a fur around herself as best she could and followed.
There was a narrow path which spiralled downward along the inside of the vast trunk. Small windows at irregular intervals looked out onto stunning views of the forest and hills beyond, but Keris did not linger. They descended without exchanging a word.
The path continued down in a seemingly endless curve. Every now and then they passed other Chandara, which scuttled past them on all sixes. They were curious creatures, unlike any she had encountered before. In other circumstances, she might even have found them amusing. However, she was too preoccupied. She reminded herself that she owed these peculiar beasts her life. It might yet be that they would exact a price for that. She was feeling distinctly vulnerable. They already had her clothes and her equipment. They have me right where they want me.
Without warning, the Chandara turned through a narrow doorway. Keris ducked and stepped through after it. She found herself in a much larger chamber, filled with dozens of them. It looked like a disorganised melee. The creatures were pushing and climbing over each other. However, despite the apparent overcrowding, two areas were left clear; the one in which she was standing, and a second in the centre of the chamber where three Chandara stood erect on their hind limbs. The one in the middle was grasping a gnarled wooden staff with its left middle and forelimb. The one to the right carried a device that Keris did not recognise. In front of them, a thick branch extending from the floor was cut off, making a flat table about half the creatures’ height. She walked forward, the creatures clearing a path for her.
The one with the staff spoke. “You Are Kelanni?”
It seemed an obvious and pointless question. However, Keris decided that the best thing would be to follow along and see where this was leading. “My name is Keris.”
“We Were Asked To Bring Kelanni Here. There Is Great Danger To Your People.”
“Danger? From whom?”
“From The Unan-Chinneroth.”
The Unan-Chinneroth; the name given to the Prophet in the ancient tongue. It was used in services, though not generally in casual conversation. How did these primitives know of it? And why did they believe the Prophet to be a danger to the Kelanni?
“I don’t understand.”
The chief motioned with his staff towards the creature on Keris’ right. The Chandara stepped forward and set the device down on the truncated branch in front of her. The machine had a circular flat base, silver in colour, with an intricate mechanism of silver, red and gold. The creature pressed a switch on the side.
A glowing light appeared and grew in the air above the apparatus, finally resolving into the image of a woman dressed in white, in a style Keris did not recognise. The projection shimmered slightly, giving it an air of unreality. The mouth moved, and a voice spoke from the depths of the machine.
“You are Kelanni?” The same question again.
“Yes, my name is Keris. To whom am I speaking?”
“I am called Annata. You must listen carefully, as I do not know how long this link will stay open, Keris. I am speaking to you from what you know as your past–three thousand two hundred and thirty-one turns ago.”
Keris’ mind reeled. “How is such a thing possible?”
“We were able to use the power of the white sun. It can be used to…stretch time, enabling me to speak with you.”
“How–?”
“In my time the Kelanni are a great civilisation. We have advanced to the point where we have found out how to do many things that you cannot. However, a great disaster has befallen us. A plague is sweeping through our race. Whether it
is natural or artificial we do not know, but our physicians and scientists have been unable to stop it.
“Some have taken to building ships to take us away from this world, but they can carry no more than a few thousand at most, and we are millions. So others like me have concentrated on trying to ensure the long term survival of our race. To that end, we contacted the Chandara, who agreed to help us. We chose them because they are long lived and because they communicate memory by chemical means, which is more permanent than any oral or written form. We then launched a series of devices like this one, so that they could be recovered by the Chandara at different points in our future, and we could discover what would become of our people.
“We learned that there would be a few survivors, who would start to rebuild. Eventually, through a boy named Kal, they would even re-discover the rudiments of lodestone technology. However, from the last device we were able to send, the one in your time, we found out that Unan-Chinneroth, the one you call ‘The Prophet,’ had taken control.
“The Unan-Chinneroth is not of your world, Keris. Tell me, do you know the meaning of the name Unan-Chinneroth?”
“No, very few people know the ancient tongue.”
“It means, ‘without a tail.’ He is not Kelanni. His skin is white and his blood is red.
“His people arrived on the other side of your world and tried to take it over, but they were defeated. So one of them decided to build a device which would give his people absolute power. That device works through lodestone technology. However, in order to complete it, he needed to refine large amounts of lodestone. So he used his ship to travel to your side and proclaimed himself, ‘Prophet.’ Then he began to enslave the Kelanni there to produce the lodestone and build the weapon.”
“Where is this weapon?”
“It was being built at the processing facility you know as Persillan. Eleven turns ago, there was a revolt at Persillan. The revolt was put down by the premature detonation of a prototype device, which destroyed the rebel force. The apparatus was then moved by ship to the other side of your world. It is being assembled on an island there, although I do not know its exact location.
“The Prophet intends to destroy the Kelanni and claim the world for his own people. You must neutralize the weapon. There is only one safe way to do this, and that is with the use of a special instrument. I do not have time now to explain to you how it works, but we have concealed it at a secret location in our time. It lies on the other side of your world. To gain access you will need a special key. I cannot tell you more, except to say that this key is designed so that it cannot be misappropriated or forged.
You must take Boxx with you. It is the key. And you must find other Kelanni who are willing to help you defeat the Prophet. The process requires four–four who can pass the test.”
The only people I know like that, thought Keris, are the ones that are walking into a trap at Gort. Somehow, I have to get there first.
“You must traverse your world and cross the Great Barrier of Storms to the other side,” Annata continued.
“You mean across the Aronak Sea?” Keris exclaimed. “That is impossible; no-one can survive the storms.”
“There is a way.” The hologram rippled, and then stabilised once again. “On your side of Kelanni there are two towers. Those towers contain vacuum hole displacement teleporters–machines that can be used to transport you instantly to the other side. You must travel to one of these towers. I will then tell you how to operate it.
“The Prophet must not discover what you are doing, or all will be lost. Nor must he learn of the Chandaras’ involvement. They are taking an enormous risk by helping us. We owe them a great debt.
“When you reach the other side, I will explain more about the key. If anything goes wrong, seek out the Chandara on that side and they will aid you. They can also direct you to where the instrument that you will need to use to disarm the weapon lies. However, there is one thing you must know. The instrument itself is very dangerous. You must not allow–”
The holographic image suddenly fizzled and went out. Keris stared into the now silent machine. Could it be true? Was the Prophet truly trying to destroy the Kelanni? The woman from the past must be dead now, she realised; her bones long since turned to dust. Yet everything she had said made so much sense. She thought of those who had died– who would yet die. He had to be stopped. She needed time to think. First though, she needed to get to Gort. Or there will be more innocent deaths.
The Chandara holding the staff spoke up.
“You Have Seen Before. Now You Must Leave.” He turned to the other Chandara on her left. “This Is Boxx. Boxx Is The Key. Boxx Must Go With Keris. For All Kelanni.”
The Chandara crowded in the chamber were watching her expectantly. She raised her head.
“I am ready.”
The Chandara on the right picked up the little machine and handed it ceremoniously to Boxx. Boxx waddled to a side entrance, Chandara clearing a path either side. Keris followed, ducking once more as she exited the large chamber. Another narrow path led down the inside of the Great Tree.
After a short while, Boxx led her into an anteroom. There was another table rising up from the floor on which her clothes were neatly folded, with her cloak lying on top and her pouch of lodestones beside them. Her clothes appeared to have been cleaned and mended and she was surprised to see her diamond bladed staff propped up in the corner. The Chandara must have retrieved it from the top of the pass, but how had they known she had been there? Had they been watching her?
She dismissed the thought and got dressed. Boxx stowed the contraption in a pack which it fixed to its back. The creature then led her back out into the passage and down a short way until it opened up into another large area. Sunlight was streaming through an archway at one end. They walked through and Keris found herself at the base of the Great Tree.
The gnarled trunk stretched away left and right and upwards to the very heavens. Orange, yellow and purple moss clung to its bark and red leaved vines wound around its lower limbs and spurs, lending it a festive appearance. Massive roots broke though the rich forest loam, before diving beneath it in search of hidden wellsprings. It was ancient; how ancient, Keris could not even guess. She saw Boxx regarding the Great Tree wistfully.
“The Great Tree; My Home.”
Keris turned, heading off across the dappled sunlight of the forest floor.
After a moment, Boxx dropped to all sixes, and trotted off after her.
Chapter 8
Light was fading from the sky; casting sprays of orange and ruby red to merge with Ail-Mazzoth’s sullen crimson glow. The smouldering hues infused the trees with a lurid radiance, making it seem as if the forest were ablaze. The Chandara did not seem to use names, but she had learned that Kelanni of ancient times had called it Illaryon. The name was vaguely familiar; it lay to the west of Chalimar and its dependent towns.
They were camped at the edge of the trees. Keris was seated on the ground, with her legs tucked under her. She was still wearing her cloak. Boxx was carrying a quantity of fruits in its pack, which Keris had supplemented from what she could find. She had not felt so well fed and rested for a long time. But she had found that there was a price to be paid.
She was used to being alone, to working alone. She had learned to rely on herself ever since her parents had left her at the Dagmar manse. As a worker on the estate, and later at the Keep and during her training as Keltar, she had concluded time and again, that the only person you could truly depend on was yourself. Oh, there were always people who would show an interest in you; who would listen sympathetically; who would even declare their wish to become your friend. But ultimately, it always came down to the fact that they wanted something from you. Everyone has their own agenda.
That is not to say that she was a loner. There were those at the keep that she regarded as friends. But she kept them at a certain arm’s length. When it came to the important things of life, and especially
when it came to her work as Keltar, Keris preferred to work alone. That way she could analyse, plan and find solutions without distractions. Distractions like Boxx.
It was like travelling with a small child. She had learned that Boxx was old. It did not even seem to know its age. “I Am More Than One Zero Zero Zero Zero Zero Zero Zero Turns,” it had stated proudly. Keris put it together in her head. That would be more than ten million turns. The woman from the past, Annata, had mentioned that the Chandara were long lived, but even Keris knew that was ridiculous. Nothing could possibly live that long.
“You can’t be ten million turns,” she replied dismissively. “You must have got the number wrong.”
“The Number Is Correct, Keris,” Boxx insisted.
It occurred to her that maybe the creature was senile. Wonderful. I now have a senile companion. However old it was, it was evident that it had never been beyond its tree home.
“How Old Are You?...Where Do You Live?...What Is A Keep?...Why Do You Carry That Branch?”
Keris felt as if she were on a school field trip. She tried to answer as best she could, but she felt her patience was being tested to the limit.
“What Is A Female?” The beast seemed puzzled when she didn’t answer.
However, it was not its incessant curiosity that was the problem, but rather its speed. It was capable of trotting along at a fair pace; it was just that she could travel much faster using the cloak. She was not sure exactly how much time she had lost while recuperating at the Great Tree, but she knew that if she were to make it to Gort in time to intervene, then time was of the essence.
Thus Keris was faced with two difficult decisions. The first was easy to make, but difficult to execute. The second would be difficult to make, but easy to execute.
She began with the first. Raising the back of her hand to her mouth, she spoke into her Ring. “Keris.”
There was a long pause. Finally, the Ring responded with an emerald glow. “Is it you, Keris? You haven’t reported for two days. What happened?”