Richard Tuttle - Web of Deceit

When they arrived back at the village, Mobi led the trio to the inner courtyard of the stone building, while the rest of the Qubari warriors returned to their homes. Within a few moments, Chief Dumo and Shaman Yltar arrived. Dumo embraced Bakhai and welcomed the travelers back to the village.

“You have returned swiftly,” smiled Dumo. “Were you able to speak to the Sage?”

“We were successful,” nodded Bakhai.

“Tell me of your journey,” prompted Dumo.

Bakhai started the tale at the edge of the jungle and began to relate the adventure to the chief. Mistake and Rejji sat and listened for a while. Mistake pulled out her stick and held it upside down. The balls still hung suspended in opposition and she pouted. She was about to put it away when Rejji reached over and grabbed it from her fingers. He also held it upside down and the balls clanged together. He locked eyes with Mistake for a moment and shook his head as he handed the stick back to her.

“Not sure I have much faith in that stick of yours,” Rejji whispered to Mistake while Bakhai continued his story.

“Maybe it was affected by the cold up on the mountain,” responded Mistake. “Or maybe you aren’t doing it right.”

“How could there be a wrong way to turn a stick upside down?” protested Rejji as he noticed Yltar watching him.

“If it doesn’t work for you,” frowned Mistake, “then don’t touch it. It was meant for me and I am sure that it will work.”

She held it upside down again before putting it away. Once again the balls stretched the strings to their limit as they became suspended straight out to the sides instead of falling down. Rejji saw Yltar’s eyes widen as the balls hung suspended opposite each other. The shaman came over and sat next to Mistake.

“Where did you obtain the carozit?” he asked softly.

“Carozit?” echoed Mistake. “You mean the stick?”

“Yes the stick,” smiled Yltar. “Where did you get it?”

As Bakhai continued telling his story in the background, Mistake answered, “It was a gift from the Sage of the Mountain. He said it would help locate my family.”

“I have read of such things,” stated the wide-eyed shaman. “Never have I seen one. May I try it?”

Mistake nodded and handed the carozit to Yltar. He turned it upside down and the balls clanged together. He handed it back to Mistake and indicated for her to use it again. She did and the balls once again hung out to the sides of the carozit.

“Amazing,” whispered Yltar as he turned to listen to Bakhai’s tale. “I wonder how it is made.”

Bakhai skipped over the meeting with the Sage and promised to return to it later as he proceeded to tell the story of how they escaped from the mountain.

“Myka,” stated Dumo at the end of Bakhai’s story, “a name of legend. I thought she died ages ago. And you got to fly upon her back? I am quite surprised that she didn’t eat you.”

“She wanted to, I am sure,” frowned Mistake.

“I suspect if she wanted to eat you, you would not be here,” smiled Dumo. “Tell us, Mistake. What did the Sage tell you of your family?”

“He gave her a carozit,” offered Yltar. “It shows a great distance separates her from her family.”

Mistake nodded and Bakhai added, “He also tasked us to find the lost city of Angragar.”

The courtyard fell suddenly silent and the faces of Dumo and Yltar became masks hiding their emotions.

“I am sure that I am pronouncing it correctly,” Bakhai stated. “The Sage said that the Qubari were responsible for protecting it. Tell me where it is so that we may go there.”

“Angragar is none of your concern,” declared Dumo.

“It is our concern,” protested Bakhai. “The Sage has stated that it is our duty to go there and discover its mysteries. You must tell us where it is.”

“I will tell you no such thing,” exploded Dumo. “You, as a Qubari, will learn of Angragar when I deem you are ready to. These invaders that you travel with, shall never know of it. I forbid you to speak of it again.”

“I think the Sage has already made us aware of it,” interrupted Rejji. “If you refuse to help us locate it, that is understandable, but to refuse to speak of something we already know about it is childish.”

“Childish?” raged Dumo. “For thousands of years, the Qubari have been entrusted to guard this secret. It is an obligation we take quite seriously. Why do you think we kill anyone who enters this jungle? Do you think it is for the love of seeing someone’s blood spilled along the jungle floor? Every Qubari is sworn to protect Angragar with his life. I will not share those secrets with the likes of you. I have erred in not having you killed before, but this threat to Angragar makes me see clearly now. Seize them! The council shall sit in session again this day.”

The guards lowered their spears and formed a circle around Rejji and Mistake. They hesitated when it came to Bakhai, unsure of whether or not the Chief’s command included him. Dumo nodded sadly to Mobi, and Mobi ushered Bakhai into the circle of spears to join his friends. A guard was sent to summon Pulom and Anderal to complete the council.

“He is the last of your line,” Yltar pleaded to Dumo. “Do not be so quick to terminate that which has dedicated its life to Angragar.”

“I know no other way,” scowled Dumo. “The sacred trust must come before all else. Do you not think I have punished myself all these years for my actions? As Chief, I have a duty far greater than the rest of my people. My family and my life are insignificant against the burden I have been given. I would give my own life to spare Bakhai, but that would not safeguard Angragar. I do what I must do.”

“Yet your son felt strongly that Angragar would awaken in your lifetime,” continued Yltar.

“His feelings were misguided,” growled Dumo. “Angragar does not awaken just because you wish it to. How many generations have wished the same thing? Were the Astor to be born today, I would take an army and tear down the gates of Angragar, but such is not the case. I explained this to him many times.”

“I remember the arguments,” frowned Yltar. “And I believe he answered that tearing down the gates for a newborn was just as foolish as announcing to the world where Angragar was. Yet he was one of the greatest students of the ancient prophecies that the Qubari have ever seen. Can you not believe that maybe he understood something that the rest of us have ignored?”

“He was wise,” nodded Dumo, “but he was also young and optimistic. How many of our youth have you sensed the same euphoria from? Do not distract me from my duty by yanking on my heartstrings. This is painful enough for me without you dragging him into it.”

“Why do you keep referring to my parents as if I would not understand who you are talking about?” interrupted Bakhai. “They had names like you and me. I would at least like to know them before I die.”

Dumo stared over at Bakhai and his chin crinkled in bitter sadness. His eyes watered and he nodded as he walked towards Bakhai.

“Regardless of how I rant about his failings,” Dumo grimaced, “your father was a great man. He would have made an excellent chief or shaman for the Qubari. It is not that I did not love him, but rather that we did not see eye to eye on many things. He had the same feelings of sacrifice for our people as I do, but he thought very differently. His name was Hyram and I am proud to have called him my son. I am sorry, but I cannot remember your mother’s name. She was an invader and I only met her once and it was an emotional time between your father and I. Perhaps it will come back to me.”

“Her name was Saria,” Rejji said haltingly, his eyes filled with tears.