Jim Henson’s The Dark Crystal Author Quest (15 page)

The Forest

Usha ran for a long time before she allowed herself to stop and look around. This part of the forest was not completely unknown to her; it had to be somewhere between her village and the Orneth settlement, but there were no paths anywhere near her. Unconsciously, she had taken no paths or any routes she would normally have gone. No one would find her easily, even if they were looking. The only trouble was, she had no idea how far she had come, or exactly which direction she was facing—the tight-knit antari trees made it impossible to see the Great Sun in the morning sky. She was lost.

But not hopelessly so.

She just needed to get her bearings and she would know precisely where she was. Now that she had something to focus on, she pushed all the horrors she had experienced to the back of her mind. She would deal with them later, if she could bear to face them at all. Finding a suitable-looking tree, Usha prepared to climb to the top.

“Are you lost?”

She fell to the forest floor with a strangled cry. Usha looked about her fearfully, but could see no one. With visions of the Hunter in her head, she bolted into the bushes, only to trip and fall into the thorns.

“You do look uncomfortable.”

Usha looked around and spotted the speaker as he emerged from the shadows. He was a strange creature, tall and gangly, with a long face marked with spirals, large eyes, and long fair hair. He spoke again, his voice kind and gentile, “I've a knack for helping people when they are lost.”

“Who, who are you?” Usha asked.

“I'm . . . a Wanderer,” he replied, waving his two left arms in a dismissive manner as he leaned against the thin tree, making it sway. “If you're looking for direction, I believe I can help. You might find something you need in
that
direction.”

One left hand pointed over Usha's head and through the trees. She looked but could not see anything useful. She turned back to ask, but the creature had gone. The woods certainly grew stranger the closer one traveled to the castle. Deciding her luck couldn't get any worse, Usha stood, brushing the worst of the nettles off her skirt, and headed in the direction the man had indicated. It wasn't long before she heard music, some kind of flute, surely. Following eagerly, she came upon a clearing. Here, a Gelfling sat by a stream, playing an old Gelfling tune. Flooded with relief, Usha ran forward, flinging her arms around the boy's neck.

“Flyn!”

Flyn's surprise could not have been more complete, suddenly finding Usha in his arms. He had just been thinking of her, though in his mind she had not been weeping. It took him quite some time before he could calm her down, and even then he held on to her as long as possible. Seeing her best friend had filled Usha with great relief and all her emotions came flooding out at once. She was glad to no longer be alone. Eventually, Usha was able to talk around her sniffles. “On, Flyn! It was absolutely terrifying! I was playing Hide with Hema, and then there was the monster! I ran as fast as I could, but Grandmother told me
such
things! I've got it, Flyn, I have the journal, and now I just don't know what to do!”

Keeping his voice soft, like talking to a child, Flyn replied, “You've had a fright. I see that. Why don't you start from the beginning?”

After a few deep breaths, Usha tried once again to make her words clear. “Flyn, I don't think the Skeksis are really our friends. One of them attacked Hema in the woods and they've sent Garthist after Grandmother. They're after the journal, but I don't think they know I have it.”

This time, Usha's words were clearer, but Flyn still didn't understand. He said, “I can't believe the Skeksis would harm Gelfling. You must be mistaken.”

“Flyn! I
saw
it,” Usha insisted, but it was clear Flyn would not be so easily persuaded. With a huff, she pulled the dirty bundle out of her bag and unwrapped it. The journal. Flyn looked at it skeptically. Offering him the book, Usha explained, “It's Rian's journal. He wasn't a traitor, Flyn. He spoke the truth, and this will prove it.”

Cautiously, Flyn took the book. Something heavy fell out of the binding cloth. He asked, “What is that?”

“I don't know. It's some kind of black stone,” Usha replied, picking it up. The black came off on her fingers. Soot. Rubbing off the dirt, Usha uncovered some kind of white crystal, about the length of her palm and shaped like a teardrop. It must have something to do with the journal. Putting it in her satchel, Usha turned back to Flyn, who was flipping through the journal pages, pausing at certain paragraphs and wincing at pictures. She said, “Whether you believe me or not, you have to agree that Grandmother never would have given that to me if she didn't believe it. She said it was extremely important.”

Flyn nodded. He knew Grandmother well, and seemed to accept that she would never lie about that. Finally, he looked at Usha and announced, “I'll take you to Chief Dani. She'll help. We'll get it all figured out.”

Usha shook her head and stood, while Flyn looked at her in surprise. She declared resolutely, “No. Flyn, Grandmother made me promise I would go straight to Aughra's mountain. I will not break my promise, not for anything.”

Flyn looked up at her, and she gave him a look that made it clear she wasn't going to back down. With a sigh, he stood and stated, “Then I am coming, too.”

“But Flyn!” Usha objected. “You're supposed to be up at the castle to begin guard duty tomorrow! You'll be in trouble if you're not there. If there really are creatures after me, it will be too dangerous to come.”

“All the more reason I should go,” Flyn replied. “You're my best friend. I'm not going to let you go alone, no matter what I think about everything else.”

• • •

The darkening halls of the Castle of the Crystal were cold and unwelcoming. SkekUng's dark red robes brushed the dust on the floors as he walked, thinking only of the report he had to bring to Emperor skekSo, who wouldn't be pleased. SkekUng ran his clawlike fingers down his sharp beak; someone would be punished, and skekUng needed to be sure it wouldn't be him.

“I see your creatures failed!” a loud voice roared at him from behind. Without turning, he knew who it was—skekMal, one of the largest and fiercest of the Skeksis Turning.

SkekUng bowed with a sneer and answered in his sharp tone, “Ah, Hunter. Where do you go so quickly?”

“I've something for the Collector,” skekMal grunted in reply, holding up a bag. A red stain was beginning to show through the fabric. “A Gelfling head. I thought he would like it for his collection.”

SkekUng raised one sharp eyebrow. He smiled and said, “Ah, skekLach will be pleased, but the Emperor will be angered not to get the essence, which is unfortunate considering your blunder earlier.”

“
You
are the Garthist's master,” skekMal replied with a growl, gesturing with a sharp claw. “They failed. Both the Gelfling and the book slipped through their ranks.”

Narrowing his small, sharp eyes, skekUng pointed out confidently, “My Garthist killed the one that hid the book, and brought captives from the village to the castle for their essence, for the Emperor. You were out hunting, were you not? And against orders. The Gelfling with the book must have gone right past you. You let it slip through your fingers.”

The Hunter showed no fear. SkekMal replied, “My skills and your creatures may be useful together. I happen to know the spies report the Gelfling traitor is heading toward the Observatory.”

SkekUng gave an involuntary shudder, knowing that “the Observatory” meant Aughra.

The Hunter continued, “We need not go there, but with your creatures and my skill, we could easily capture the Gelfling
and
the book.”

SkekUng smiled. This had worked better than he hoped. The two scheming Skeksis walked away to plan. Once they were gone, a thin figure emerged from the shadows. SkekSil the Chamberlain nodded. A scheme of his own formed in his calculating brain. He would send the Crystal Bats, of course. They made excellent spies. Unfortunately, they worked only at night. Perhaps skekTek would have some ideas. Yes, this could be good. He smiled cruelly, a pleased whimper escaping his throat.

• • •

Flyn and Usha spent the night in the forest. A long day of walking did not make sleeping on the lumpy forest floor any more pleasant. Usha dreamed of black and red, and blank eyes that watched. For breakfast, they shared what little food they had. There was no time to grab more before running. Usha hoped Grandmother was safe.

As they moved farther away from Usha's village, the pleasant forest turned mushy and dank. Even the air felt heavier and oppressive. Flyn did his best to lead, but he did not know the area any better than she did. The trees became old, black, and snarled, hung heavily with ivy and lichen. The quiet was so deep, the two small Gelfling dared not even speak or breathe too loudly, as if something could be listening. With everything she'd been through, Usha would not have been surprised to learn that the trees had ears.

Eventually the ground turned unreliable as the putrid waters of the Swamps of Sog began to seep through. They stayed at the outskirts of the swamps themselves. To venture farther would have been dangerous, and possibly deadly, without a guide or at least some idea of where the safe paths were. In the swamps, what appeared to be safe ground could suddenly drop you into a bog with no clear way of getting out again. Only the Drenchen clan understood the swamp, but they were unlikely to be anywhere around.

Flyn tested every inch of ground before allowing Usha to move forward. As he hopped to one solid-looking clump, the ground gave way, and suddenly he was up to his waist in muck. Panicked, Usha tried to help him out, but she only began to sink with him and he ordered her to back away. He was stuck.

“If you had a raffa vine, it would be easy to pull you out,” some voice stated languidly.

Looking around Usha noticed a short, squat, hairy creature lying in a tuft of moss. He looked so covered in mud that he was hard to see, and even harder to believe he was a Gelfling. He could only be a Drenchen—the short Gelfling race of lizard catchers—great with loyalty, but not so much with the personal hygiene. Usha asked urgently, “What's a raffa vine?”

“It grows natural around here, and it's stronger than rope,” the Drenchen replied.

“Could you help us find one?” Flyn asked quickly.

“There's one right above you,” the Drenchen stated, “but it's much too far to reach.”

Flyn scowled as he sunk a bit more, but Usha smiled and said, “Thank you!”

Quickly, she unfurled her wings. With a mighty flap, she flew up to the vine, pulling it back down with her to the ground. The Drenchen whistled, clearly impressed. He eyed her with much more interest; he'd obviously never seen anything like it. Usha blushed. She had never shown off her wings like that before. Throwing one end of the vine to Flyn, with considerable effort she pulled him out. He was safe but covered in mud.

“I'm Dilip,” the Drenchen declared, suddenly appearing beside them.

Flyn huffed and ignored him, but Usha bowed politely. “I'm Usha and this is Flyn. We're headed for Aughra's.”

Flyn looked shocked that she would so readily share that information. Dilip whistled again, once more impressed. He said, “Well, you're not far. I've never met anyone crazy enough to climb to the Observatory. Can I come?”

“No!” Flyn announced firmly. “We are going to the Observatory on serious business. We do not need someone tagging along.”

“But—” Usha began to protest.

“We're fine on our own,” Flyn insisted.

Dilip did not seem to mind. He only shrugged, saying, “If I were you, I'd stay clear of the dark green patches, look for the moss, and you'll be fine. When the ground goes up, follow it.”

“Thank you,” Usha replied. Dilip merely shrugged and then turned and disappeared into the swamp.

Following Dilip's advice, they were able to reach the base of Aughra's mountain without further incident. Tired, and smelling of swamp, the two Gelfling looked at the solid stones of the mountain with relief. Soon that joy vanished as the two inexperienced adventurers found the crags and slippery gravel of the mountainside excessively difficult to climb. Most of the easy paths they found led to nowhere or to staggering drops. Often, as they climbed, loose rocks tumbled down from above, giving them barely enough warning to hide their heads.

Finally, the ground became more level. Limpids—half plant, half animal creatures with long tentacles—scurried quickly away and hid as the Gelfling approached. Relieved, they began pushing their way past long, hanging tendrils of colored vines.

Suddenly, the vines began tightening. The Gelfling could not move. All at once, they were caught in a living net. Flyn shouted for help.

“Shtatyee,” announced a gruff voice.

Flyn was shocked into silence. Had the plant spoken? Usha understood, Grandmother had taught her a few words in the ancient language, though she couldn't speak it. She replied quickly, “We're Gelfling. I'm Usha. This is Flyn . . . Grandmother sent us.”

Finally, with a grunt, the vines relaxed, and the Gelfling fell to the ground. When they recovered, they found a rather incredible-looking woman standing over them. Wizened and gruff, dressed in multicolored shawls and skirts, she stood three-and-a-half feet tall, with ram horns curling out of her graying hair. Only one of her three eyes stared at them, the other two being blackened and useless. This was Aughra. With a curt nod, she ordered, “Boojay.”

Then she turned and walked away. Flummoxed, Flyn turned to Usha and shrugged. Rubbing a sore spot at her side, Usha explained, “We follow her.”

The Observatory

Their first view of Aughra's Observatory left them speechless. Emerging from a tunnel in the mountainside, they found themselves in a rather large room, dominated by a massive system of rotating, spinning objects of all sizes and colors—a working model of this world's trisolar system. Ducking under one of the moving arms, Aughra walked to one of the many tables, filled with alchemical equipment, astrolabes, and other strange devices. This time using the more common language, she called back to the awestruck Gelfling, “What do you want?”

Flyn could only stare. Usha quickly curtsied, answering politely, “Please, Thra-Mother, I was told to bring you this, and that you would know what to do with it.” Fumbling with her travel-stained satchel, she pulled the journal out, offering it with hope.

Aughra's eye glanced at it. She knew what it was. With a grunt, she said, “It is not for me to decide what Gelfling believe. Planets, stars . . . all moving, all telling Aughra something. It takes work, much work, to understand.”

And she turned away. Usha's heart sunk. She had come all this way thinking that here would be the end, that Aughra would have all the answers. She got nothing. Searching for words, she asked in confusion, “But Thra-Mother, the book—it says the Skeksis are evil. Is it true?”

Aughra paused and turned back. She replied thoughtfully, mumbling, “Yes, could be. Two sides of the same coin.”

This made no sense to either Gelfling. Aughra again began to walk away. Usha couldn't let her. Searching her mind, she remembered the crystal. Quickly retrieving it, she held it out and said pleadingly, “We also have this!”

Aughra turned. This time her eye glimmered with interest. Carefully she took the small crystal and examined it. She whispered, “A shard, yes. Is it
the
Shard? Don't know, don't know. Aughra searched for it. Lost. Lost shard, lost Raunip, lost balance. Everything lost.”

“Please, Mother Aughra. I don't know why I have been given these things, or what I am to do with them now. Darkness is growing. Gelfling are disappearing. Can you help?” Usha pleaded, her voice soft, eyes brimming with tears.

Aughra's eye locked on the maiden, and something changed. She softened. Feelings seemed to stir in the old woman's soul, and for a moment, Usha could see the Aughra of ancient tales—tales that spoke of another creature who had once called Aughra “Mother.” Shaking her head sadly, Aughra handed the shard back to Usha and replied in her gravelly voice, “It's not Aughra's story to tell. No. The division is about others.”

“What is the division?” Flyn asked, moving protectively closer to Usha.

Aughra shook herself from her thoughts and turned back to her table as she replied, “The division, the Crystal, many trine ago, all part of the story. The Shard was lost, Skeksis made other shards, all scattered. The answers
you
seek lie in the Valley of the Stones.”

“The Valley of the Stones!” Flyn exclaimed in surprise and not a little fear. “But that's where the soul stealers come from!”

“Soul stealers?” Aughra asked, uncomprehending.

“Creatures who steal the Vayu—the living essence—of Gelfling with their song. Their voices can shake the very foundation of Thra,” Flyn replied. He was clearly surprised she hadn't heard the stories.

Aughra laughed. With a mischievous gleam in her eye, she said, “Soul stealers, Mystics, urRu, in the Valley of the Stones they live. You ask Aughra what to do, Aughra tells. Valley of the Stones is where your path leads. Will you follow it, I wonder. Time has come to choose, Gelfling. What is your answer?”

Usha looked down at the crystal in her hand. It looked like such a small thing, and yet everything now seemed to have centered on it. She looked back at Aughra, not knowing what to say.