Lillatta heard it, too. The humming level had been steady since our entry into the room, but was now increasing in volume. I was about to follow Lillatta as she sought out the apparent source on the other side of the floor, when all fuld broke loose. Out of thin air a monster appeared, directly in Lillatta’s path. She screamed in terror as the creature rose from nothing to become a living, snarling beast, towering above her.
Lillatta froze in place, and despite the weakness in my own knees, I managed to rush to her, grab her, and pull her from danger. The two of us found a large chunk of ceiling debris far from the beast and ducked behind it. Javen and Izzy soon joined us. I was certain our end had come.
Yet the beast did not attack. It just stood on its side of the room, screeching and roaring. The creature was gigantic, standing upright on two thick hind legs and swinging a tail that could knock down a can-rak. A firm, dense body rose from tail and legs to merge into a short, powerful neck on which sat an immense head with jaws of flesh-tearing, bone-crushing incisors. The beast had two puny front legs that seemed to serve little purpose, and its skin had the appearance of scales, grayish-green with streaks of color.
Gor-jar, the living god. It was then I realized I had been much too eager to meet him.
We watched in fear as the beast stepped forward, then to the side, rolling its neck and unleashing its challenging roar. It stepped back and screeched an ear-stabbing cry, then came forward again and stepped in the opposite direction, roaring once more. Backward it paced, with its screech assaulting our ears a second time. Yet again, it stepped forward and to the side, bellowing as if caught in an invisible trap.
I watched Gor-jar with heightened scrutiny for a few moments—and then I laughed. Lillatta, Izzy, and Javen glanced my way. Puzzlement and concern etched their faces, for who laughs when facing death by ripping jaws, other than the dull-witted or the insane.
I got up and strolled over to the rampaging god. Fearful shouts and pleas to stay clear of the enraged beast touched my ears but did not dissuade me. For I knew I was in no danger. The god wasn’t rampaging at all. It was just making noise and doing a little dance. Always the same motions, forward and to the side, then backwards, roaring and screeching on cue. Gor-jar was not a living creature.
My loyal companions were still yelling, beseeching me to come to my senses, but I already had. I went up to the beast and reached out to touch its leathery hide. My hand went right through it! Gor-jar was not solid! Observing my hand had passed through its airy flesh without issue, I decided to risk pushing my head through the fake skin to look inside the beast. As expected, there was nothing there. Gor-jar had no heart or intestines, no bones, lungs, arteries or blood. Nothing.
With my head inside the creature, I could discern Gor-jar’s body contours, but could not see through its opaque skin. The beast was hollow and I had no idea what energy source motivated it. My presence had no effect on the god and he continued to ignore me, stepping and twisting and roaring as if I didn’t exist.
Pulling out, I waved to the others. They had already begun to come forward, and realizing I was unharmed, each stepped up to the beast and took turns pushing their hands through the mystery monster’s skin, at first with tentative passes and then with an increasing glee. Izzy jumped inside the god and stuck her face out through its fake flesh.
“Help, I’ve been eaten by Gor-jar!”
We all laughed.
Then, Gor-jar vanished.
With swift glances to all corners, we searched the room, concerned that Gor-jar had somehow gotten free of his bonds; but no sign of the creature revealed itself. We walked back to the other side of the room, puzzling over the disappearance. As we discussed what might have happened to the roaring god, the humming increased. The god reappeared and resumed his routine of twisting and dancing and screeching.
This time I caught something different about Gor-jar.
“Did you see that?” I asked Javen.
“The flickering,” he affirmed. “I noticed it right away. Gor-jar does not appear to be well.”
“Stomach problems, no doubt,” Lillatta remarked. “Eating one too many slaves will do that to you, not to mention coins.”
Gor-jar flickered again, vanished, and then returned. His voice had turned odd, crackling, hesitant and uneven. The god seemed to be stuttering. Again, he vanished.
We waited. Gor-jar did not return. In addition, the humming that had been persistent since our arrival had ceased.
“Is he dead?” ventured Izzy.
“I hope so,” said Lillatta. “I did not like him that much.”
“I doubt he was ever alive,” I stated. “Whatever was making him move was not what makes a living being move. He appeared to be only imitating life, though how that was accomplished I cannot fathom.”
Javen was studying the spot where Gor-jar had stood and said, “We know this beast wasn’t real, but maybe animals just like it once existed in the flesh.”
I agreed. I imagined Gor-jar probably lived as a real creature long ago, and someone had left this reminder of him. Yet why the Spood would assume this shell of a beast to be a god was beyond me. Seems odd to worship something that obviously has no consciousness, that does nothing but roar and screech and dance on cue. In addition, if their religion promises eternal life after physical release, what kind of afterlife were the Spood expecting, having to live forever trying to please this unappealing creature?
The humming had definitely ceased and the room now had an emptiness that was almost sad. We knew Gor-jar was never coming back.
Having seen enough of this white room with its air of decay, we were more than ready to depart. Gor-jar was dead, by all indications, and the room itself was dying. A chunk of tile and stone had just loosened and fallen from the ceiling, adding to the room’s active descent into rubble.
I wondered how the Spood had discovered this room, for I knew it was not of their construction; the lights without fire proved that. The Spood still used torches and did not have the knowledge to build anything more sophisticated. They certainly could not have built that object that glowed, the one that sat on the table behind the partition.
They must have found the room and the corridors by accident, perhaps through digging. I could imagine their reaction upon meeting Gor-jar for the first time. It must have made quite an impression, enough to make them believe the imaginary beast to be a god. Yet they had to know that Gor-jar could not kill, so what down here was the actual bringer of death? We had yet to find out.
And another thing. Why were there no human remains in this room? It was something I had noticed right away. There should be bones, like in the hallway. Where were they? This puzzle had my brain spinning. Perhaps the black hole that awaited us on the far side of the room would provide the answers.
No one was eager to return to the darkness. I picked up the ceiling light I had examined earlier; we might need it to help guide us if no more bulges awakened. That was another curious thing. Why had they come on in the first place? Did we trigger something, much like Izzy passing her rings before the fortress eyes? And how, since they all seem to work in concert, did one still manage to stay lit when separated, the one I now held in my hand? Each step forward in this underground world seemed to bring more puzzles and more entangling mysteries.
Izzy took the lead this time. She carried our fireless torch, and as we passed out of the room and into the dim corridor, the room behind us went dark and the passage before us remained so. To our relief, the orb Izzy held stayed lit. I had thought exiting the room might cause it to turn off. Perhaps direct contact with a person allowed it to burn. Yet if so, then why hadn’t it gone out when I set it down earlier? It was yet another baffling mystery.
The rotten stench that had been faint in the room now reintroduced itself with a potent pungency. Javen spotted more bones and we paused to examine them, a human skull and assorted limbs. The odor did not come fro
m them. Many of the bones were missing, but the ones remaining showed bite marks. So, something down here was capable of separating one’s flesh from one’s bones. It could be anything, and it might have our scent right now. Where was a decent spear or sharp rik-ta when you needed one?
We moved forward and then Izzy halted, causing me to run up her back.
“Stop. Something just growled,” she informed us. “Listen.”
We all heard it, a low, faint growling, still some distance away.
“What should we do?” whispered Lillatta, unable to keep the fear from her voice.
“Should we go back?” an anxious Javen spoke, more to himself than anyone else.
“There’s nothing to protect us here or back there,” I said. “But remember, there were no bones in the white room, only in the hallways. There has to be a reason for that. Maybe this creature doesn’t kill in Gor-jar’s room. It’s worth a shot to try hiding there. But we have to go, now! It’s coming.”
And it was. Fast! We turned and sped back down the dark passage, our meager light rocking in Izzy’s hand as she led the way. Lillatta stumbled but quickly righted herself. We were almost there. I heard the definite click of claws on stone and the panting of the creature, closing fast.
We burst into the white room—and it remained in darkness. The lights had failed to ignite! There was nowhere to hide, and we couldn’t be sure if our stalker would hesitate to attack us in this sacred room. We dashed over to the partition, but knew it would not offer much protection, if any. The light orb slipped from Izzy’s hand as we ran and began rolling across the stone floor. We had no time to retrieve it. Our pursuer blasted out of the darkness into the dim glow cast by the rolling light, and my heart nearly stopped as I caught sight of the creature over the low partition wall. It was halfway across the room before the beast slowed. It began sniffing the air and then took off again, gaining speed as it left the room and raced down the other corridor.
A can-rak! For a moment, I was overjoyed. Then, I realized the beast had scented our three companions still back at the gate. No! I should have stopped it. Again, I had not reacted in time. I leaped up, went to grab the lit orb off the floor and then headed for the exit.
“What are you doing?” shouted Lillatta. “It’s a can-rak! Are you crazy?”
I barely heard the echoing protests of the others, for I was moving with swift urgency, all the while trying to navigate around hazardous debris. I hit the corridor and took note that its lights had not come on, that the can-rak had not triggered them by entering the passageway. Were they no longer working? I shouted down the empty hallway as I ran, hoping to alert the three men, but sensed I was already too late.
A frightful scream chilled me. Another. I ran and ran. As I turned the last corner, I saw it. Its jaws gripped the torso of the already dead man, the one who had thought he could open the gate. The crunching of bone was sickening. Two other mangled bodies lay before the still-closed gate, their corpses staining the floor with blood as the torches lining the walls on the free side of the gate flickered and mocked.
The can-rak spotted me. Its yellow eyes shone with menace in the light of my tiny lamp. It dropped its grisly catch and I heard the growl, low and ominous.
I walked down the corridor in brisk strides and spoke.
“Come here!” I ordered. I was in no mood to play games.
The can-rak stopped in mid-growl. It sniffed the air. Then it did what that other can-rak had done, the one I had saved Semral from—it began humming in that odd rhythm. It cautiously approached and again the size of these beasts awed me, the massive head and jaws, the powerful, sinewy limbs. No Gor-jar, mind you, but the can-rak had its own impressive majesty.
The big baby knelt down, docile as a pet, and groveled at my feet—well, it would have, except even crouching down it loomed over me. Disgusting splotches of red gore stained the fur of the beast’s lower jaw, but I tried to ignore that. I could do nothing for the three men, so I figured I might as well go back to my companions and introduce them to my unexpected new acquaintance.
“You will follow me,” I instructed the can-rak. “You will not harm any more humans. In fact, you will protect them unless I say otherwise. You will treat them as you treat me.”
I began walking and the can-rak followed. As I got closer to the white room, I could hear an animated conversation. It carried across the empty chamber.
“Why would she do that?” Javen’s heated voice said. “Chase after a can-rak! What was she thinking? Why? . . . Why would she just throw her life away?”
He spoke the last sentence with a slight quaver in his voice.
“She wouldn’t,” Izzy was responding. “You don’t know her. Sanyel is different. She has the favor of the gods . . . Ra-ta . . . Mim . . . Gor-jar, for that matter. She does everything for a reason.”
Lillatta then broke in, saying with urgency, “We have to go find her—now!”
I could hear the anguish in Javen’s reply. “How? How do we get to her? She took our only light.”
As I stepped into the room, light in hand, I asked in a loud voice, “Someone looking for this?” Their discussion, taking place behind the walls of the far partition, had so engrossed them that the approaching dim illumination from the corridor had gone unnoticed.
My voice generated an immediate, warm, and excited response from the three. They hastened over to greet me, and then they saw the beast looming behind.
“Look out!” shouted Lillatta. “The can-rak is behind you!”
I pivoted, peered up at the drooling monster, and then turned back to my friends.
“Oh, him? He’s with me.”
I strode forward and the beast followed. My friends watched, awestruck and fearful as we approached. I told the can-rak to lie down, which it did.
They had no words. How can you speak when you witness the unimaginable? I knew I would have to explain, to reveal at last what I had hidden from others for so long. I beckoned my friends to find a seat among the rubble.
“Yes, I can control can-raks,” I said without preface. “I can because the can-rak is my spirit animal. One came to me as a child when my father was teaching me the ways of the shaman, and ever since I have found they will obey my commands.”
“You are a shaman?”
Javen had found his voice and his question indicated doubt.
“Not an official one, no,” I admitted. “But I know all the secrets and can perform all the duties, if required. I can do other things as well. Not even Lillatta knows this, but when I wear a bracelet of animal bones on my wrist, I can use the bones to control the creatures they represent—under certain circumstances.”
Lillatta’s eyes widened.
“That is what that bracelet was for? You told me it was just a gift from your father. I had no idea.”
“My father wanted it kept secret. He knew the ability was unique and that many might not look with favor upon a woman having such powers.”
The can-rak lifted its head and sneezed, causing us to jump. It settled back down, placed its massive head between its paws and closed its eyes. We continued our talk.
“A warrior, a shaman, and a can-rak master,” Javen said with admiration. “What else can you do?”
“I can weave baskets, but not very well.”
The can-rak then leaped to its feet, startling us again. It was staring toward the corridor from which it had originally emerged. To our surprise, another can-rak appeared from the gloom. It growled a challenge upon seeing us, and it was preparing to charge when I spoke.
“Come over here and sit,” I ordered.
The second beast hesitated, went through its sniffing motions, then crept over and meekly deposited itself next to the first. It was eyeing my companions with keen interest and still emitting low growls, so I repeated what I had told the first about not harming humans.
“Like little children,” I said, sh
aking my head. “Only they tend to kill everything they see.”
I was thinking about the three men and felt an instant depression.
Izzy saw my gloomy look and guessed the reason.
“They are all dead, then?” she asked. “The three at the gate?”
I looked down and stared into the soft glow of the light in my hands. A broad weariness draped its weight across my inadequate shoulders. The last few days had brought nothing but danger, stress, confusion, and death. I wanted to feel safe, content, and normal. I wanted to feel again the cool grass beneath my feet on a dew-sprinkled morning. I wanted to watch Ra-ta rise up over the mountains. I wanted to bathe in the cool waters of the mighty Raso and climb the gnarled limbs of a towering kakkata.
Instead, I was here, in a stinking hole with a tired body and a tortured mind. Yes, they were dead . . . the men at the gate . . . the two women on the hill . . . the young girl at the sperza. I did not save them, could not save them. Yet I would not forget them. My conscience would not allow it.
Izzy accepted my silence as confirmation and did not push further. For that, I was grateful. I just needed a moment. There had been so few opportunities to just stop and allow myself to feel something—anything. Even now I could not indulge, not in remorse, not in self-pity. We had work to do. We had to attend to our most pressing concern, which was how to get out of here.
I rotated my fatigued shoulders and stood. The can-raks had come from somewhere, so I suggested we find out where that second corridor might lead us. If there was a way in, there had to be a way out. The others agreed. With Javen leading and with me bringing up the rear along with the can-raks, we set out to discover what lay beyond the darkness.
“Wait,” I said, before we had gone but a few steps. “I want to get something.”
I took Javen’s light and searched for the coin bags beneath the hole in the wall. Finding one to my liking, I dumped its contents to the floor. Shining coins bounced, clinked, and scattered. They were of no interest to me. A fine leather bag, however, would be perfect for collecting animal bones for a new bracelet.
Javen led us through the passageway until we came to the end of the corridor. Ahead of us, the burnished stone of the hallway floor gave way to a rougher walkway. We were in what appeared to be a cavern, carved with crude workmanship out of the rock. We moved forward and soon realized that our path inclined upward, and that gave us hope we might soon return to the surface.
In a short while, up ahead, a growing brightness lessened the gloom. I glimpsed a patch of green through an archway that opened up into an outdoor environment. A refreshing breeze touched us and our excitement level rose. There was a way out!
**
~~TWENTY~~