The Reborn King (Book Six) (17 page)

The liquid inside the flask was a deep blue that reminded Gewey of the Waters of Shajir. Perhaps the mountains were the source, he speculated. It seemed likely. He continued watching while Felsafell followed Cloya's instructions
and then covered Nehrutu with a blanket. This done, he headed down the path to find some firewood.

He returned a short time later. “The road continues for some distance,” he told Gewey.

After a time, they both settled down to keep watch – one of them on the tunnel, the other on the path. The daylight appeared to still be keeping the lizards at bay. But soon it would be nightfall. And Cloya was sure to alert others of her kind to their presence.

“Do you think he’ll live?” asked Gewey.

“I think Cloya was being truthful,” Felsafell replied.

“Have you ever seen anything like her?”

He shook his head. “But it seems that she knows of my kind…and of you.”

Gewey sighed. The
first born's
words hung in the air, suggesting the possibility of still more mysteries and new dangers ahead. Was there never going to be an end to them all? His mind then turned to Kaylia and Jayden. Right now, had he been able to, he would have reached out to Kaylia for comfort and to hell with the consequences. But whatever was stopping the flow in this place was also making contact impossible.

He made a promise to himself. If he ever made it out of here, the very first thing he would do is join with her spirit at least once.

Once more…
then
he would be ready to face his destiny.

Gewey gave a sigh of relief when the long night finally ended. Several times during the hours of darkness he had heard the hissing and scraping of the great lizards, but thankfully they remained unwilling to leave their tunnels. The thought then occurred that, in order to return to the desert, they would need to pass through the mountain again. He prayed that, before such a risk became necessary, they might discover another way back.

By morning, Nehrutu had regained much of his color and his breathing was normal. His wound no longer showed any signs of infection and was already beginning to close. Whatever the blue liquid was, it had certainly performed just as Cloya promised it would.

The shadow of the mountains cooled the air and dimmed the morning light long after the sun was high. To Gewey's eyes, there was something odd about their formation. It was as if they had been deliberately arranged to keep out intruders. Each peak was butted right up against the next one, forming a great wall that stretched for hundreds of miles east to west. Only to the north, where the range ended, did the ground start to flatten.

By the time Nehrutu opened his eyes it was almost midday. At first, he lay motionless on his back, a confused look his face. Then, with a tired groan, he sat up.

“How am I alive?” he asked, touching his arm. There was pain, but it was tolerable.

Gewey told him of their encounter with Cloya.

“If not for her, you would have surely died,” explained Felsafell.

It took a moment or two for Nehrutu to absorb what he'd been told. “And you say it
spoke
?” he finally asked.

“Yes,” replied Felsafell. “
She
did. And I might add that they do not hold your race in high regard. I suspect we have not seen the last of them.”

“The Morzhash of my land are mindless animals,” said Nehrutu. “We have never encountered any that display signs of intelligence or civilization. They raid our villages and kill without
cause or remorse. If these beings are in some way related, they have no reason to hate my kind.”

“Perhaps,” said Felsafell. “But Cloya was certainly not mindless. Nor do I believe her to be a killer. Aaliyah has told me about the Morzhash of your land, but that is a name only you have chosen for them. It seems those living here refer to themselves as
yetulu.
And from what Cloya said, I believe there is more to the yetulu than you realize. I only hope that whatever it is they hold against your race, it can be made right....or at least, overlooked.”

“We have not wronged them, I tell you,” Nehrutu protested.

“Be that as it may,” Felsafell countered. “Cloya is not the only one of her kind who dwells here. And that means we are in
their
domain. It also means it is
they
who will decide who has been wronged, and who has not.”

The elf sighed. “There is no need to worry. If confronted, I will mind what I say. But you should know – if they are anything like the creatures of my homeland, they are immensely strong. And, in spite of their great size, very agile and quick. Should we be forced into a fight, it will not be an easy one.”

“Then let us pray it does not come to that,” said Felsafell.

Nehrutu struggled to his feet, at first holding onto Gewey’s shoulder for support. After a minute or two he stretched and groaned. Then, with a sharp nod, indicated that he was ready to depart.

The path north was well worn, and once the entrance to the mountain was out of sight, it widened considerably, allowing them to walk alongside each other. In spite of the potential danger, Felsafell thought it best to sheath their weapons.

“We do not want to appear aggressive,” he said. The others agreed.

The rocky terrain on either side of them stretched for miles before disappearing into a grey mist. Ahead, the path sloped down and curved slightly to the east. After a time, the air became warmer and humid. A few slender pine trees were even scattered about. Soon, beads of sweat were forming on Gewey’s brow.

By mid-afternoon, the landscape began to change dramatically. The trees and undergrowth had thickened to a point where it could now genuinely be considered a jungle. In terms of sheer density, Gewey was reminded a little of the Black Oasis, but without any
of its ugliness or threatening atmosphere. He could sense no malice or danger here, though without the
flow
, he had to admit that he was basing these feelings on instinct alone.

Strange colorful birds with long curved beaks and even longer plumes called out from their high perches. Flowers of blue, pink, red and violet were everywhere, their fragrances so intense and unique that with each gust of wind, they combined to create a multitude of new and delightful scents.

He noticed that the corners of Felsafell’s mouth had turned up into a faint smile. “What’s making you so happy?” he asked.

Felsafell's smile widened. “Are you not in awe that such a place exists unknown to the rest of the world? To think that, aside from the yetulu, we are probably the first to see it in many thousands of years…if not ever. I only wish Basanti could be here to share it with me.”

The mere mention of the
first born's
love reminded Gewey of Kaylia, quickly diminishing the beauty around him. He felt her absence more and more keenly with each step. Only the thought that she and Jayden were safe in Theopolou’s manor kept his mind from flying apart and abandoning his quest.

“Do you fear nothing?” asked Nehrutu. His eyes had been darting back and forth ever since setting out on the path. The tension he felt was clearly displayed on his face.

Felsafell looked sideways at the elf and shrugged. “Fear? Yes, there are things I fear. I may be immortal, but I am not invulnerable. I felt fear when I confronted Melek. I felt fear when I looked upon Basanti after killing her brother. I fear what will happen to the world should we fail. I am no different from you in this way. I have simply had more time to learn how to control my emotions. Right now, I wager that your fear is deepened by being cut off from the
flow
. Though I have never been faced with this particular difficulty, I have felt vulnerable in other ways.”

“How did you conquer it?” Nehrutu asked.

“I did
not
conquer it. I used it to hone my senses and steel my resolve. Remember, fear is much like love. It can consume you if you are not cautious. But if you use
it
, rather than allowing
it
to use you, it can give you strength when you need it the most.”

The elf forced a laugh. “The same wise words I would tell a child. Yet I cannot tell them to myself. I have not been this
powerless since I was young. Even facing death, the
flow
was always with me. To imagine that humans feel this way all the time…”

“You don’t miss what you’ve never had,” Gewey chipped in. “Before I discovered what I am, I had never felt the
flow
. Humans do not feel powerless. And neither do the desert elves.”

“I have occasionally questioned the wisdom of the Creator for allowing mortal creatures to wield such power,” Felsafell mused.

“Maybe
she
intends for everyone to wield it,” offered Gewey. “Or maybe none at all. Dina is half elf and half human, and as far as I know, she does not possess such ability. Who can say? In a few thousand years there might be only one race, with no one holding power over another.”

Felsafell smiled. “I think that would definitely make for a more peaceful world.”

Nehrutu was still a bit on edge, but as the day wore on, he began to appear less nervous. With dusk approaching, they tried to find a clearing to rest up. But the undergrowth had become even denser, and Gewey thought it unwise to venture into an alien forest at night. Particularly without the
flow
to aid them. Nehrutu readily agreed. So without any other options, they made camp in the middle of the trail.

Undeterred by the potential dangers, Felsafell set off to explore the surrounding jungle. He returned an hour later with some fruits and a small cord of wood.

They had just started a fire when Gewey spotted a dark figure on the trail slightly north of their position. Though shrouded in the increasing darkness, its massive silhouette told him at once that it was a yetulu.

“I see it too,” whispered Felsafell, before Gewey could say a word. “Do nothing. We should allow them to come to us.”

Nehrutu laughed softly. “I doubt we have a choice. My people have tried to pursue them in our own jungles and forests. As fast and strong as you are, I think even you would have difficulty in catching them.”

Felsafell watched from the corner of his eyes as the yetulu slowly backed out of sight. “Then we shall wait and see what they intend. Until then, the two of you should try to sleep if you can.”

Gewey knew that this would be an impossibility.  The uneven ground and many days of hard travel – not to mention the wounds inflicted by the giant lizard – had taken their toll. While lying on his back, the pain and stiffness in his muscles would not let him be. He hadn’t felt like this since he was a boy on his father's farm after a hard day’s work.

It occurred to him that, even when crossing the deep sands of the desert, he had felt stronger than he did right now. He had not used the
flow
then, but at the same time, he'd always been aware of its presence. Here, he was not.
It must be a part of me, even when I am not a part of it
, he mused. He thought again of his earlier discussion with Felsafell. Would life be better if all people were cut off from such power? The more he considered this, the more he thought they probably would be. Neither human nor elf had shown great wisdom when given power. Elves had abused their superior capability, and humans had felt threatened by it. Perhaps the world simply could not abide two entirely separate races of people. Perhaps a joining of the two was the only way to ensure enduring peace and happiness.

His thoughts continued. Not even the gods were immune to prejudice. Melek had detested the
first born
, and hated the elves to the point of committing genocide. Yes, of course he was an extreme example. But even his own father, Gerath, had made it widely known that he felt humans and elves to be inferior races. And though his actions were far less severe than Melek's, there was little doubt that he considered the virtue of the gods to be far beyond mere mortals.

Easing such reflections from his mind, Gewey allowed the tension in his facial muscles to relax. After several deep cleansing breaths, he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the jungle.

As dawn approached, he sat up and rubbed his neck and legs. Felsafell was squatting by the fire, staring into the smoldering embers. At the same time, Nehrutu, having managed to fall into a light sleep a few hours earlier, was beginning to stir.

“The yetulu are gathering,” Felsafell said. “I can hear them about a half mile north.”

Gewey listened, but could hear nothing. “What are they doing?”

“Blocking the road,” he replied.

“Then I suppose we should not keep them waiting,” said Nehrutu. “I am curious to meet these so-called
yetulu
.”

They doused the fire and gathered their belongings. Just as Felsafell had said, the yetulu were waiting for them a half mile away. More than twenty of them were gathered in a loose group. To Gewey’s eyes they looked almost identical to one another - all apart from one, who was wearing a bright red headdress of plumes.

When they were about twenty yards away, Felsafell directed the others to stop and took a few paces forward alone. The yetulu wearing the headdress did the same.

“We come...” began Felsafell, but the massive hand of the yetulu shot up to silence him.

“We do not need to speak with you,
first born
,” it said in a booming voice. “Cloya has told us that Darshan is among you.”

Gewey stepped forward. “I am Darshan. Who are you?”

“I am Grunyal,” he replied. “Son of Hybsal and emissary of the Creator. Why have you come, son of Gerath?”

“First tell me how it is that you know me?”

His eyes narrowed. “You trespass on
our
land. Furthermore, you travel with an
elf
. You will answer
my
questions.”

Gewey glanced over at Felsafell, but his eyes were fixed straight ahead and his face was expressionless.

“I seek the
god stones
,” he said.

The yetulu began to shift and murmur.

“And what do you want with them?”

“I need their power to defeat my enemy and save the peoples of the world.”

Grunyal huffed. “A god seeking more power. I should have expected as much.”

“How do we know that he really is Darshan?” called a yetulu from the crowd. “He could be just another half-man seeking treasure. Gods do not need the god stones.”