Martyn Vaughan - The Cave of Shadows

‘Jon, Jon,’ came Jarz’s voice behind him, ’you really must learn to trust us. There’s no danger here. Go nearer.’

Carefully Jon obeyed, watching the other seemingly doing the same.

Then he realised. It was him! It was his reflection!

He went up to what was now revealed to be a tall mirror of exquisitely polished silvery metal. He put his hand on his reflection’s hand in amazement. He had seen himself reflected in water a few times of course but never like this! It was so clear, so still, so real! It was just as if another identical Jon was there, touching his hand. The other stared back at him, a tall figure with brown skin stretched tightly over wide shoulders and ridged abdominal muscles.

And then the other smiled and all was well.

Jon turned around to face Jarz, meeting Jarz’s smile with his own.

‘This is a world of wonders! I see now why I wanted to come here!’

It was then he noticed something in the corner of the room., in a small alcove. It was a table and chair, somewhat smaller than their dining equivalents. On the table was an object the like of which he had never seen. It was a piece of curved substance which at both ends held flat discs which on one side where covered in soft padding. He picked it up. It had the right dimensions to fit around a person’s head.

He turned to his companion, holding the unknown object.

‘What is this?’

He was surprised to see Jarz was no longer smiling and instead looked somewhat tense.

‘Ah, please put that down Jon.’

‘Why? What is it?’

Jarz came up to him and very gently extricated the thing from Jon’s fingers.

‘We can’t tell you everything in one go now, can we? This has a very special purpose which you’re not ready for.’ He attempted a smile but it was not like his earlier ones. ‘You want to keep some surprises for later, surely?’

Jon noted a slight undercurrent to the man’s words but was unable to define it. He shrugged. This was no time to pick a quarrel with his new companions. He nodded and put the object back where he had found it.

‘Sure. You’re right – I don’t want all my surprises at once.’

‘Let’s go back out, ‘Jarz suggested, slightly too eagerly. ‘There’s lots more to see.’

They emerged into the coppery light of late afternoon and continued their tour of the village. The houses had a few variations in design and style but most were of equal quality to Jon’s new residence. Everyone looked pleased to see him but as Jon walked he gradually became aware of something he hadn’t noticed in the initial excitement of his arrival.

There was marked similarity in appearance in the residents. Apparently there were only four or five basic types. They passed one powerfully built man with coal-black skin and short curly hair. A few minutes later after passing a variety of other people they encountered what appeared to be the same man.

After the second man had safely disappeared into the throng Jon turned to Jarz and said ‘How did he get in front of us so quickly? I didn’t see him go past.’

Jarz’s old relaxed grin was back. ‘That was Jern 23 and Jern 16. They’re both very square fellows. You’ll like them when you get to know them.’

Jon was not quite sure what “square fellows” meant but it sounded approving. It also seemed to fit with the lack of diversity that he had begun to notice. But why would there be different versions of the same person?

Were there different versions of him?

And then suddenly they came to a wicker-type fence that ran from the side of the hill to the lip of the terrace. Beyond the fence, the same type of houses stretched into the distance and around the flank of the hill. There were no people in the immediate vicinity but Jon could see some things moving just as the side of the hill curved away into invisibility.

There was something odd about those people – for people they appeared to be. They were noticeably shorter than the people on Jon’s side and their physiques appeared to be made of curves rather than straight lines. It was hard to tell; they were so far away.

‘Who are those people?’ he said, turning to the seemingly all-knowing Jarz.

‘That’s the village of the women. We don’t normally have much to do with them.’

‘Why? Are they violent?’

‘No, the opposite in fact. They’re usually quite friendly. But we don’t have much in common and the Lord Korok prefers us not to fraternise.’

An electric thrill passed through Jon’s spine.

Korok.

That name again. The name that had saved his life.

‘Who is Lord Korok?’ he said, speaking very slowly and distinctly.

It appeared that he had not spoken distinctly enough because Jarz totally ignored the question and continued to look around with a vacuous smile on his face.

‘Come,’ he said, reaching up to slap Jon’s shoulder, ‘There’s nothing for us here. Let’s go back.’

They walked back along the dusty track that separated the buildings from the lip of the terrace. Jon remained silent for a while, not sure whether some topics were off-limits or not. Twice now Jarz had reacted in an unexpected way. It was too soon to be concerned, he told himself. This was a new environment and it was not his place to pronounce on what could or could not be discussed. He reminded himself of the near termination he had so narrowly escaped at the hands of the Lords of the Sands and despite the warmth of his surroundings could not prevent a very small shudder.

However, he felt the silence must be broken.

‘So what do you all you people do here,’ he finally asked, ‘there seem to be quite a few of you here. Where do you hunt?’

Jarz gave a small chuckle; the chuckle of the sophisticate for the naïve wonderings of the rural innocent.

‘Hunt? We don’t hunt! For food at least. The Lord Korok provides for us all. All blessings come from our Lord.’

Jon felt annoyed. All conversations here seemed eventually to terminate in a reference to this “Korok” person – a person who it was apparently forbidden to discuss.

They were getting near Jon’s new home and Jon felt more and more irritated by these oblique references to the explanations of the situation he now found himself in. But at that moment he noticed that the light had changed and looking up he was just in time to see the first purple bar appear in the sky.

Ah! Some things still made sense here! he thought to himself. At least the sky was normal.

They halted at the entrance to his dwelling.

‘Well I’ll leave you here,’ Jarz said, his omnipresent smile gleaming in the gathering twilight, ‘you must be absolutely exhausted by all that’s happened after your long journey. I’ll leave you now and we’ll talk more in the morning. Enjoy your rest – you’ve earned it!’

And with that, he turned and moved off into the gathering amaranthine shadows.

Jon watched him go. He stood there until Jarz had disappeared and he was alone. The purple bars multiplied in the sky as he stood there and soon the time of darkness would descend like an enveloping cloak. He turned and went into his house, the interior of which was now bathed in a gentle, comforting pink glow.

As he sat he went over a few things in an oddly troubled mind. He should be satisfied, content, happy even – but he was not.

Once again he had that feeling that there was something wrong with this paradise, something that didn’t make sense.

He decided that perhaps all would be clear in the next time of light.

He went to the bed and lay down. After a period of tossing back and forth, he got up and lay down on the floor.

He slept.

Jon gradually became aware of a soft pinkish glow through his window that could only mean that the new time of light had arrived.