Dead reckoning, p.13
Dead Reckoning, page 13
Villagers mobbed us immediately. “Hello!” every Elei’i man, woman, and child said to each of us. Hands were shaken. Names were exchanged. I couldn’t keep track of any of it. I tried to match the friendly energy I saw in Ulysses and Nicolette, but I felt overwhelmed and quickly wished we could hurry to the trial. Blue, of course, kept his distance, scaring off any who dared approach with a razor-sharp glare.
I tried to learn what I could from that press of flesh. Everyone we met was warm and welcoming, their smiles wide and their faces bright. Even the youngest children showed no hesitation in approaching us. All of the men were clad only in hide kilts like Timah’s, while the women all wore short, sleeveless dresses of the same material. Although some of these garments were plain, most were trimmed with beads or stitching depicting a variety of animals. I picked out a lot of birds, a few big cats, and a fish or two. Most of the Elei’i were either young children or wizened elders; middle-aged people were few and far between. All told, the village couldn’t have totaled more than a hundred individuals.
Not one of them carried a weapon. I’ve never met a people more trusting than the Dalam. Still, the scars they bore spoke of a hearty people who didn’t turn away from conflict when it became necessary. I will always respect them, both for the way they accepted us and for the clear effort it had taken to carve out a life atop that hill.
The villagers returned to their lives after meeting us. It was unsettling; a person would be there, desperate to gain our attention, and then suddenly they wandered back to whatever they’d been doing before our arrival. In between handshakes, I watched a trio of men return to what looked like a communal cooking hut, while an older couple went back to work tanning a fresh hide on a rack. It was as if their responsibilities toward us were complete.
One youth remained, a muscular young man with a jaguar stitched into his kilt. Its eyes were inset with obsidian. He wore his dark hair long but cut sharply by his chin. Timah stepped between us and bowed. “This is our pangiru, Lagoago. He is very happy to meet you.”
“Hello,” the boy said with a grin and a wave.
Ulysses stepped forward, content as always to act as our spokesman. “It is our pleasure and our privilege to make your acquaintance, sir. We would have a word with you, if the time is convenient, as we’d like to discuss a matter of great import to both our peoples!”
The first mate’s big speech was met with a blank but friendly expression.
“Lagoago does not have my words,” Timah said apologetically. “I will act as his ears and as his tongue.”
The older Dalam turned to the younger and spoke in their native language. Lagoago’s grin widened even further, and he responded to Timah in turn.
“Our chieftain would be most pleased to speak with you all,” Timah translated. “He invites you to join him in his home, where we may talk in greater comfort.”
“Thank you both!” Ulysses replied. “Please, lead the way!”
Our hosts took us directly across the village, toward a slightly larger yurt surrounded by a circle of the same obsidian in Lagoago’s kilt. Along the way, we passed the idol around which the settlement had been built. In height and width, it reminded me of the Black Yonnix’s main mast. Intricate carvings chopped deeply but precisely into the wood reminded me of something else.
Ulysses leaned close to Blue and pointed at the idol. “Hey, didn’t that guy try to take a bite out of your face earlier?”
The marii shivered but didn’t respond.
Inside Lagoago’s yurt, we sat in a circle on grass mats set roughly equidistant around the perimeter. Dried flowers dangled from the ceiling, attached to leathery strips. In the center, a large, empty bowl might have been used for food or drink or something else altogether—we never found out. The mats weren’t uncomfortable, and sitting in the shade brought welcome relief from the warm sun.
Going forward, Your Highness, I will describe Lagoago’s words as if he said them himself.
“Welcome to our home,” Lagoago said. “I am pangiru of the Eleni’i. I am pleased to receive you all, and I hope that we may work together for the good of all.”
“Rut,” Blue muttered. “The Empire would eat these people alive.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Davanon said sagely. “My people couldn’t tame the lands of the Kleas, nor conquer its people. I doubt some foolish theocracy built on the back of an arrogant pirate with a god complex can do any better.”
“We are safe here,” Lagoago replied, his tone still friendly, if a bit amused. “I must also say that I have heard the leaders on the mainland are older. This, I think, also gives us an advantage. My people believe that those who will inherit the world should guide its direction.”
That made sense to me. “I had been wondering about your age,” Nicolette said after an awkward moment. “I also noticed that most of your village’s children are very young, and your adults much older.”
“Life here is not for everyone,” the pangiru explained. “We do not have much space, nor many available mates. Many of our young people seek marriage with the nations on the mainland, where they may find more land and more opportunity.”
“And yet, you remain,” Nicolette pressed.
“The land has been good to us,” Lagoago replied, sharing a nod of agreement with Timah. “And so some of us stay. We also watch the ocean…and use the smoke of our fires to alert the mainland clans to shuen activity.”
That made a lot more sense to me—which I realize is a result of my own upbringing. Although as I would soon learn, the recurring insistence that the land had been good to the Eleni’i meant a lot more than it suggested.
“I am glad to make friends, but there are things to talk about,” Lagoago said. “What brings you to Penina?”
Ulysses glanced at each of us, then took the lead once more. “We are looking for something very old. Something that can point us toward great riches.”
Timah and Lagoago traded a look I couldn’t parse. “And you believe this thing to be here?” the pangiru asked carefully.
“We do,” the first mate replied. “There is a book that says this is where we should look.”
The Dalam tensed and then exchanged a few sentences in their own language. Lagoago slouched back and looked skyward, either exhausted or frustrated with their exchange. I hoped we hadn’t offended them—or worse. “We will need to discuss this matter with our guardian spirit, Imbibwe,” Timah translated when the pangiru addressed us once more. “We will invoke her this Diuntyne. But first…there shall be a feast, and much music and dancing!”
My heart dropped. I didn’t know that I had the patience for yet another feast. And there was something very suspicious about the way they were deflecting.
“Ugh, nevermind all that,” a squeaky voice interrupted from behind us, from outside the yurt. A string of words in the Dalam tongue followed, and Lagoago and Timah froze on their mats, clearly stunned.
“Imbibwe comes,” Timah muttered. He and the chieftain threw themselves to the dirt floor, their arms extended outward and their faces down.
The rest of us turned to watch a giant makane scuttle inside through the hide curtain covering the door. Beside me, Blue yelped as if someone had pinched him. Rindge’s hand drifted down toward his cutlass.
“Hi,” the makane said, its proboscis dripping with saliva or venom or perhaps something worse. Intelligence watched us from its four terrible eyes. “I’m Imbibwe. I’ve been watching since you arrived in the village. You didn’t seem like traders.”
None of us dared to stand. Nicolette took hold of Blue’s paw in a vain attempt to stop the marii from hyperventilating.
Imbibwe’s attention focused right on me. “Interesting,” it said, “you look just like him.”
“I look just like who?” I asked hesitantly.
She clacked her strange teeth together. “Lucifus Vardallian.”
— CHAPTER EIGHTEEN —
For several long moments, I couldn’t speak. I felt the weight of my friends’ eyes boring into me from every angle. Imbibwe simply waited, flexing her mouth.
“You…you knew my ancestor?” I finally said. And I look just like him? Really? I wanted to add, oddly pleased by the resemblance.
The huge makane nodded. “He looked less…dumb, but otherwise it’s uncanny.”
Ulysses snickered, but I ignored the comment. “So…does that mean you can take us to the site of his trial?”
“I can, and I will.” Imbibwe paused. “I have been waiting for this day for a very long time, you know. I was starting to think that Lucifus had put one over on me, or that his line had died out. His children, he told me, were quite useless.”
Nicolette leaned forward on her mat. “Was one of those children named Hersche, by any chance?”
“Hmm.” Imbibwe pondered this for a moment. “Yes—yes, I believe so! A clever woman, with a real eye for the finer things in life.” She paused again. “A bit of a hoarder, if I recall, which her father did not appreciate. Said he hated visiting her. All manner of things to step over, and such.”
Behind me, I heard Timah softly translating for Lagoago. I felt rude for turning from our hosts, but this…this was something else.
“Lucifus came here?” I asked. “In the flesh?”
The makane did something with her face that I could only call rolling her eyes. “Yes, indeed. How else could he and his men have built the trial?”
“What do you know of it?” Nicolette asked.
“I know its location—as we’ve already covered—and that it protects that which you seek. Lucifus offered to tell me more, but, well—I do so enjoy a nice surprise!”
Imbibwe turned on her uncountable legs and nudged the curtain open with her proboscis. “Come along, now. You’ll want to be there by Diuntyne. That’s when the place lights right up. Downright beautiful, what that lij and his crew built. Still not sure exactly how he did it. The energy there is…strange.”
And with that, the makane disappeared outside.
I let out a breath that felt like twenty, and then traded excited looks with my companions—all but Davanon, who looked dour. The mah’saiid turned to Lagoago. “There are things I need for our ship. I am hoping you might help me find them. Before we speak of such things, I’d like to see my crewmates off.”
Timah translated. Lagoago nodded. “Yes, I look forward to speaking more! Please tell me of your ship. I have heard it’s very beautiful.”
One by one, we bid the pangiru and his envoy goodbye, and then we followed Imbibwe outside. The makane stood beside the idol, looking fondly upon her likeness carved into that wood. Blue stepped to the side, sticking close to Lagoago’s yurt while keeping a watchful eye on the big insect, which was also getting a friendly pat from the pair of young boys who’d greeted us at the top of the hill.
Davanon grabbed Ulysses and me by the arm and pulled us close. “First off, before Lagoago mentioned the now-cancelled feast, he expressed to Timah a deep reservation about having to host us here.” I remembered that strange aside, and I wasn’t surprised there was more to it. When neither of us questioned him, Davanon continued. “That is no guardian spirit,” he hissed so softly I could barely hear him. His brow was twisted in concern. “That is a weidt. A shapeshifter. An ancient being of immeasurable power and unknowable intentions.”
Imbibwe noticed us looking at her. She pointed one leg at the totem. “Looks just like me, doesn’t it?” One of the boys offered her a piece of pink fruit, which she sucked right up with her proboscis.
“Seems like a good enough sort,” Ulysses said to Davanon.
“They are, until they aren’t,” the mah’saiid snapped. “Don’t give her a reason.”
The first mate feigned indignance. “Us? Cause an incident? I assure you, friend, that we would never!”
The mah’saiid sighed. “This must come from your mother’s side of the family,” he said as he ducked back into the yurt. Rindge nodded to us and then followed the engineer. I wasn’t excited to leave Davanon behind, but at least he’d have supervision.
Ulysses turned to me. “Davanon’s council is wise. It’s just his presentation that needs a little work.”
We followed Imbibwe back to the game trail that had brought us to the village. Had we walked right past the site of Lucifus’s trial without noticing it? In that impenetrable mass of vegetation, it certainly seemed possible.
As we descended, I grilled the weidt about my ancestor.
“What was Lucifus like?” I asked, speaking slowly so as to hide my bubbling excitement.
“He was a kind, friendly sort, but sharp as a tack. A bit sad, now that I think about it. As if something near and dear to the man had thoroughly disappointed him.”
“What did he wear?”
“Lij clothes. Nothing memorable, though he was always clean and smelled nice. And I’m not sure I’ve ever met a man with a nicer beard.”
“You said he brought a crew to help build the trial. Was he good to them? Was he close with any in particular?”
“He was fair as captain, from what I could tell. Had a particularly good rapport with a mah’saiid woman. Very tall, very beautiful creature. The pair were nigh inseparable.”
“Do you think they were in love?”
“Ha! They shared a tent, if that answers your question. But I tire of discussing the past.” A chill ran down my spine as Davanon’s earlier warning echoed in my head. “Tell me of your family, Kensey Vardallian,” Imbibwe added after a beat. “I’d love to know more of what became of old Lucifus’s line.”
My knowledge of my family history wasn’t particularly deep or broad, but I gave Imbibwe what little Grandfather had told me. She was pleased to hear that the Vardallians had remained a well-known family in the north, and that Lucifus’s descendants included a number of successful merchants and landholders. She seemed perturbed by my more immediate family’s decision to flee all of that for a new life in the south, and when I told her of my parents’ deaths along the way, she stopped walking and began to shake. For a few tense moments, I worried I’d done something wrong.
“I am truly sorry that you never knew your mother and father, Kensey Vardallian,” Imbibwe said. “I am glad that you appear to have found a new clan, however, and that your family legacy has brought you here today. I truly hope that this is merely the first step in a fruitful journey that ends with the recovery of the birthright Lucifus left behind for you.”
“Thank you very much, Imbibwe,” I replied, bowing deeply because I didn’t know what else to do. “I will do my best to accomplish just that.”
I don’t know what Imbibwe would think of where I’ve wound up—although I suspect she’d be thrilled to hear I’m spending time in the company of an empress. Yes, Your Highness, I understand that you and I are not friends, and that I sit here entirely at your discretion, and that I am very, very fortunate for your wisdom and mercy.
Yes, Your Highness, I’ll get back to my story.
We stopped where the game trail met the base of the cliff, the one that Timah had told us to stay away from to avoid eternal itching. Imbibwe studied the patch of rainforest in front of us. I could just see the thick, toothy vines through the few gaps in the vegetation.
The weidt turned back to us. “This part was my idea, but Lucifus was especially pleased with the result. I’ll admit, I was a bit selfish here; I really wanted the chance to meet anyone who might come looking for my friend’s treasure. This is a nice island and I enjoy the company of the Elei’i, but after a while it gets dull—so I occasionally travel, often for months at a time. Didn’t want any Vardallians swooping in and out while I was gone!”
She turned back to the jungle and clacked her mandibles three quick times. With a great rustling, cracking, moaning, and shifting, the twisted tangle of dangerous flora parted, revealing a narrow path forward.
“There!” Imbibwe declared, sounding quite pleased with herself. “Haven’t done that in a while. Glad it still works!”
Blue peered around my hip. “It—it’s not going to slam shut again on us, is it?” The thought of being snared in those vicious, toothy thorns had me worried too.
“Not unless I tell it to!” Imbibwe replied. “But come, come! This land is doing us a favor. It would be rude to keep it waiting. Much of these plants have twisted themselves into rather uncomfortable shapes.”
The weidt scuttled onto the new trail, her pointed legs leaving sharp divots in the earth. My comrades and I traded a look once again.
“No guts, no glory,” Ulysses said as he hurried after Imbibwe. The rest of us followed suit. Yes, Your Highness, I suppose it would have been smart to pause and prepare before rushing onward, but…we’re pirates.
The vegetation certainly had contorted into awkward forms. Roots, stalks, and trunks bent away from our path at seemingly impossible right angles, somehow remaining unbroken. I shuddered, reminded of Davanon’s warning about the weidt’s immense power. I’d once thought L’Vaillee the master of his realm, but no lij ruler could hope to have matched Imbibwe’s influence over her little island kingdom. Present company excluded of course, Your Highness.
Still, the going was not exactly easy. There were many gnarled roots to carefully step over, and a few places where the toothed brush had left just a narrow space under which we could crawl. The dirt stuck readily to the k’lama still covering our skin, leaving us all filthy and uncomfortable. Tehenessey Blue’s grunts and huffs of exasperation served as a drumbeat that powered our march.
Brighter light peeked through the jungle ahead. Soon, we stepped out of that claustrophobic tunnel of vegetation and found ourselves at the top of yet another hill. A gentle incline led down to a small valley containing stone ruins. The surrounding rainforest was stuffed full of the frightening black vines.
I heard Imbibwe’s jaw clack three times and turned to see the entrance to the path sealing up behind us.
