Shadows of the Dark Crystal (15 page)

“D
oye
,” Tavra shouted again, but it was more to calm the Landstrider than anything. She soothed the beast with a pat on the shoulder, and it grunted, the pink in its ears fading. With an agile leap, she dismounted, wings outstretched just enough to ease her landing to nothing more than a soft step.

“Naia,” Tavra said. “Thank Aughra you're safe.”

Though Tavra looked relieved to see Naia, her mouth remained a tight pale line, and her eyes and ears were alert. Her broken wing was on the mend, held in place with a light splint. The Landstrider, outfitted with a Spriton riding harness and a saddle strapped with traveling bags, moved away to take a drink from the river. So this was the one that had been following them! Naia wasn't sure whether she should be relieved.

Tavra nodded at Kylan with a quick tilt of her chin.

“This is the dream etcher? I saw his words on the stone near the bridge and knew you'd come this way.”

“Yes,” Naia said. “He's accompanying me to Stone-in-the-Wood. We've come from Sami Thicket together . . . So much has happened since I saw you. Is my father well?”

“Indeed. When I left him, he was still bedridden, but your mother is unmatched in healing
vliyaya
.” Tavra looked both ways,
up and below, then leaned in and lowered her voice. “We need to speak, and quickly. First, you're truly unharmed? Were you within the wood at night? Did you meet anyone, or anything—did you hear anything?”

The questions were rapid, wary, and instead of bringing answers out of Naia's throat only made her hold on to them more tightly. What was Tavra worried about? Maybe she was merely concerned for Naia's well-being, but maybe it had to do with the echoes of Gurjin's voice in the wood. Naia felt every muscle stiffen as a thought crossed her mind. According to Tavra, the Skeksis had only accused Gurjin of spreading traitorous lies, but they had not stated what exactly those lies had been. Did Tavra know the truth? Did she know something she wasn't telling?

“Yes,” Naia said, choosing to answer only the first two questions. “We traveled the wood overnight, but we survived safely.”

Tavra's eyes narrowed. “As I was tracking you in the wood, I saw prints from another. Were you with someone?”

“We were following the tracks, hoping they would lead us to the river,” Naia said. Again, it was half-true. If she told the soldier about urVa, she wondered if she might be putting the riddle-ribbing old mystic in danger. Why was Tavra so intent on knowing if they had been alone? The Silverling leaned back slowly, every feature on her face tight with suspicion.

“I told you to beware the creatures of the Dark Wood,” she said quietly. “Even those that seem good are connected to those that are not so good. Connected in ways we don't understand.”

“For every one there is another,” Naia said. As little sense as it made to her, the words had an impact on Tavra, who sighed.

“Listen. We received a message by swoothu in Sog. Gurjin is alive, but he's been taken captive.”

“Captive?” Naia repeated, just to make sure she'd heard the news properly. Alive was good, but captive was not. “Captive by who? Where?”

Tavra shook her head.

“That is not for you to know. I have orders from your parents to send you home to Sog. They asked me specifically not to tell you any more than I have.”

“Because if I know where he is, you know I'll go to him,” Naia huffed. “He's my brother, Tavra! I'm not a child—let me go with you to rescue him!”

Tavra's eyes flashed and her jaw was set.

“You will return to Sog,” she repeated. “And that is the end of the matter.”

“But I've come all this way! I'm not about to turn around and go all the way home, not when I know my brother is being held captive somewhere. I don't need you or my parents protecting me!”

“Naia—”

“I'll have you know, I saved this wood,” Naia said. “It was under a curse—it had looked into the blackness of the crystal veins, deep in the earth. But I healed it by dreamfasting, without your help or my parents' protection. Something is terribly, terribly ill in Thra—something that started somewhere in the Dark Wood—and it's related to all this with Gurjin. I don't know how,
or why, but I feel it in my gut. And”—Naia dropped her voice to let Tavra know she was absolutely serious—“I know what Gurjin was saying. I know what he said about the Skeksis.”

Naia's words had hardly any effect on the Vapra soldier. Tavra leaned in, her expression so stern, it was as if she were truly made of silver.

“If you know what he said, then you'll understand this is much more dangerous than one Gelfling can handle alone.”

Naia knew then that what she had heard echoed by the Cradle-Tree was true. Somewhere in the Dark Wood, Gurjin had spoken high treason against the Skeksis.

“You are under the orders of your parents and myself to return to Sog,” Tavra added. “An order from a soldier is an order from the All-Maudra, so I hope you'll take it seriously.”

It was all Naia could do to lower her chin in half a nod.

“I understand,” she whispered, knowing that arguing with the Vapra would get her nowhere.

Tavra took in a big breath and let it out slowly, then pinned the same stern gaze on Kylan.

“That goes for you, too, Spriton,” she said. “You'll take my Landstrider, both of you, and fly from this place as quickly as it can take you.”

“What about you?” Kylan asked Tavra. He had been quiet during the entire exchange, though Naia was confident he'd made out every word of it. Anger boiled in the Drenchen's stomach, though she tried to hide her feelings. How long had she known about Gurjin's treason? Tavra had acted as though she knew
nothing when she'd arrived in Sog.

“I've traveled many paths by foot,” Tavra replied. She walked the Landstrider to Naia and pushed the reins into her hands. Naia took the heavy straps, immobilized by frustration and betrayal. She held her tongue, though, knowing the soldier would not be swayed. As if in apology, Tavra put her hands on Naia's shoulders.

“I will find your brother,” she said. “And I will do the right thing.”

Naia could only find the restraint for three words, and so she said them, as calmly and evenly as possible. “As will I.”

Tavra met Naia's eyes for a moment, as if trying to dreamfast without dreamfasting. Then, with a grim but understanding nod, she strode quickly into the wood.

Naia waited until the sound of Tavra's steps had faded before she dropped her pack to the ground with a bitter huff and started pulling out only the essentials—rope,
bola
, food, water. After checking that Gurjin's knife was still strapped to her belt, she bent to tighten the laces on her shoes, her sore shoulders and back appreciating the stretch.

“What are you doing?” Kylan asked. “You can't get back to Sog without your pack—it's got your kindling stones and such.”

“I'm going to the Castle of the Crystal,” Naia said.

“But you just promised Tavra—”

“That I would do the right thing. And I am. Don't you see? The castle can't be more than a day's journey here, so of course she can make it on foot. She didn't deny what we heard of Gurjin's words. There is only one place she could be going.”

“The castle . . .” Kylan reached out and caught her sleeve. “Wait, Naia. You can't be sure of that. And she's trying to keep us safe, isn't she? Don't you think that if she's worried, you should be, too? What do you think you can do that Tavra can't? And she said your parents want you to come home . . .”

Naia pulled out of his grip.

“You heard the same words in the wood that I did! Were they lies or not? No one has the answers—no one will tell me! Even when I thought I'd heard it from Gurjin, I couldn't be sure. So now the only way is to find out myself.”

“Even so, we shouldn't go barging into the Castle of the Crystal—”

“You want me to just give up?”

“No, but what you're planning is reckless, and dangerous. There has to be another way!”

He was shouting now, and she shouted back over him, clenching her hands in fists.

“There
isn't
. It's either go to the castle or run back home, and I'm not letting go of my brother so easily!”

Kylan let out a loud annoyed groan.

“You're so stubborn, I'm surprised you can let go of a
bola
long enough to throw it!” he cried.

“Says the one who couldn't hit a target if his life depended on it,” Naia shot back. “I let go of how I felt about you
Spriton
back in Sami Thicket, you know—so that you could travel with me. And look how that's working out, eh!”

Kylan jerked as though she'd struck him. He looked down,
and she knew she'd won the argument. He gave up.

“There's no other way,” she said again. “So this is
my
way.”

Naia pushed past him and entered the thick brush after Tavra, away from the Black River that would have otherwise taken her all the way to Ha'rar. The journey would be meaningless if she had to stand before the All-Maudra and represent a brother she might not even truly know. Kylan's voice was already fading behind her, muffled by the thick leaves and the early sound of rolling thunder.

“But the heroes always find another way,” he said.

Her response was in a mutter she doubted he could hear. “Maybe in tales, but this isn't a song for telling.”

Any minute, she expected the distressed sighs of Kylan picking up his things, tromping into the woody brush after her. Hearing nothing, she turned halfway, looking to see if he was coming—but he wasn't. There was nothing but green and purple leaves, red and brown branches, darkening light, and thickening rain.

She was alone.

N
aia trekked between dark-leaved trees with huge barrel-size trunks, and rocks covered in wriggling purple moss studded with hairy polyps. Black-winged scaly things swooped and flapped in the canopy overhead. The purple rocks eventually gave way to lumpier rocks that grumbled and moved as she walked by, shifting away from her and burrowing deeper into the mulch-and leaf-covered forest floor. Naia's footsteps were loud and harsh as she stomped her way through the brush, although she hardly cared who heard her. At the very least, it frightened the crawlies and hundred-legged armor-ants from her path so she didn't have to worry about stepping on them. Though her sense of direction was good, it was getting dark, and the storm clouds were moving in, hiding what little was left of the Brothers' sunlight in the sky. Still, she had to continue, and she no longer had the clear Black River to guide her safely to her destination. She broke a branch off a tree she passed, snapping the twig into smaller and smaller pieces until it was merely splinters, and then she tossed them away in disgust.

Thunder broke overhead, like an egg cracking and pouring out huge endless drops of cold wet rain. Naia looked for shelter nearby but found none, and all she could do was pick up her pace
and move forward. She thought briefly about Kylan, but pushed the thought from her mind. He'd made his choice not to come with her. Anyway, by now he was probably halfway back up the falls. Maybe he'd even make it to urVa's before long—that would be nice for him, safe and warm next to the hearth with a hot cup of
ta
. Naia, however, would be stranded in the muddy, cold, dark, shadowy forest on account of doing the right thing.

The rain came harder, streaming in soupy rivulets as the land sloped downward, carrying leaves and twigs as if they were tiny boats on a raging river. As the slope steepened, going from a gentle decline to a deep hill, Naia had to grab on to the drooping fronds and branches to keep from slipping. Finally, though, it happened—a tree's leafy tendril was so slick with water that it escaped her grasp as soon as she put her weight on it. Then she was tumbling, tumbling down the hill in rolls and bumps, thrashing through short plants with burrs and fine feathery leaves.

At the end of it, she spilled into a shallow puddle of mud. Coated head to toe in muck, her head spinning, she spit out dirt and leaves. Although in pain and still a bit dizzy, she felt lucky not to have collided with one of the many protruding boulders or spiny trees. Naia patted around for Neech, unable to find him. Then a chirp and a squeak came from above as he glided down, unharmed—probably having let go of her as soon as she'd tripped. Plucking him from the air, she hugged him tightly, more for herself than for him.

“
Yesmit!
” she swore, but even the curse offered little relief. Alone in the mud, surrounded by the looming black tower-trees,
back and shoulders aching, she let out a scream of frustration. As it echoed back to her, she put her face in her hands and wept. She didn't even know exactly why. Maybe it was for no one thing in particular, but nevertheless, the tears came out faster and harder than even the rain overhead. Naia didn't know why it had come to this, or had to be this way. If Gurjin was a traitor after all, her entire journey until now had been a waste! If they'd captured him, surely they would force him to stand his own trial—so what was she doing out here in the cold and wet, alone and miserable?

I'll hear the truth at the Castle of the Crystal
, she told herself. She imagined the warmth within the castle's sturdy walls—and food, there ought to be hot food and maybe
ta
like urVa had served.
One way or another
.

She jumped when something cold and rubbery nudged her elbow. Out of the mud came a bulbous-eyed wide face, followed by a grub-shaped body. The mud made a sucking noise as the Nebrie surfaced, the fresh rain washing grime from its oily head and back. Unlike the Nebrie of Sog, this one was a youngling, maybe even a baby—no longer than twice Naia's height and as big around as a village drum. It nuzzled Naia's arm again, burbling and cooing, and Naia found the ache of a smile on her lips as she reached out and petted the thing's round nubby forehead.

“This mud and rain suits you just fine, doesn't it?” she asked. “Did your mother leave you here while she went to forage? You shouldn't come up out of the muck for just anyone. It could be dangerous.”

The Nebrie's mouth opened in a toothless smile. It rolled
from left to right, dipping its face back into the mud and blowing bubbles. Naia laughed despite herself, and as she did, the tightness in her chest relaxed. She sneezed, then wiped her nose with the back of her hand. As if it made a difference in all the rain.

“I'm lost,” she told the Nebrie as she petted its leathery hide. “I thought I knew the way, but it feels like I'm only running in circles.”

Naia's entire body rocked as the Nebrie shoveled its face under her arm, burbling. Opening her mind, just a little, a gentle dreamfast formed. She saw the Nebrie's mother, big and purple, pulling up weeds from the pond bank, chewing them up before spitting them back in a pulp for her pod of children. Though the meal wasn't something Naia was keen to try, the vision was touching all the same. In return, she tried to dream back, thinking of her and Gurjin's shared Name Day. Her sisters had tied bright ribbons and bells to every one of her locs. The Great Sun had been warm that day, and Gurjin had not yet left for his post at the castle. They had stood together before the people of their clan, eager to take on the responsibilities of their blossoming adulthood.

The Nebrie squealed in delight, and Naia let the memory fade. Careful not to send the thought in dreamfast, she remembered the Nebrie in Sog, with its frothing maw and lethal tusks.
This
was how Nebrie were supposed to be: happy, content to play and wallow in the bog for all the day. Not swollen in a rage, mindless in an empty state of pain—not like the ruffnaw in the burrow, nor the tormented Cradle-Tree, whose branches still surrounded her. Thra was in pain, in sadness, and it originated at the Heart
of Thra: at the Castle of the Crystal. Though the castle had not been Naia's original destination, after all that had happened, it did not seem a coincidence that it would be where she would seek the truth about Gurjin.

Sighing, she stood and looked down at her mud-stained clothes. If she had brought her pack with her, she was sure its contents would have been strewn all up and down the slanted hillside, but as it was, she still had everything she'd rolled down with, tied safely across her back and to her belt. She had what she needed. She could make do. If no one would shed light on the labyrinth of questions, not even the soldier of the All-Maudra, then she would have to be the one to find the way herself.

Still, as the pouring rain ebbed again, and the Nebrie settled down to sleep in the mud, something felt incomplete in the quiet. Naia looked back up the hill and saw no one, so she turned ahead. She was still alone, and there was nothing to be done about it now.

She said her farewells to the Nebrie, shushing it back to sleep before brushing off the larger clumps of grass-matted mud from her tunic and traveling onward. Though tracking Tavra in the dry daylight might have been possible, the dark and the rain had made the trail invisible. For a moment, she panicked, realizing she really was lost. Even if she had wanted to turn back, find her way south and home, she wasn't sure that she could in the rain. Her footsteps quickened in her worry until she nearly tripped on an upraised root, shaking herself out of her wandering daze with a spark of hope. She was not really alone in the wood—anything but! Kneeling, sighing in relief, she placed her hands
upon the root and reached out in dreamfast.

“Are you listening, Olyeka-Staba?” she asked.

She closed her eyes and gave her touch some pressure, focusing on connecting with it, with feeling its presence, roots deep in the earth and branches up in the clouds. It seemed the tree remembered her, for its dreamfast was warm and gentle.

I seek the Castle of the Crystal
, Naia said.
Can you show me the way?

As if she had been lifted by wind, held aloft by the branches of the Cradle-Tree, Naia saw what the tree saw. The Dark Wood was a vast body of green and black, filling the valley formed between two bodies of highlands: the Claw Mountains to the northwest and the Caves of Grot to the northeast. In a clearing to the west, a day's journey from an elbow of the Black River, was the Castle of the Crystal. Its shining black shape jutted from the flesh of the wood like a clawed hand clutching at clouds.

The tree's voice spoke in the language of leaves in the wind, roots in the ground.

There resides the Heart of Thra . . .

When the dreamfast ended, the darkness of the night felt blinding in comparison. Naia closed her eyes and remembered the way, hoping the vision would stay fast in her memory as long as she needed it to guide her.

“Thank you,” she said to the Cradle-Tree. Again, if it responded, she couldn't hear it, save for the gentle creaking of branches in the night wind.

Naia turned at the snap of a twig and what sounded like
familiar heavy footsteps, but in the dark she saw little, and the sound did not come again. She remained immobile, hand on the Cradle-Tree's root, holding her breath and straining her eyes and ears. Many things made noises in the night in the wild, of course, and it had been the same in Sog. Yet something seemed different now, closer, familiar . . .

“urVa?”

The presence faded from her awareness, moving back into the shadows in a rumble of thunder from the south. Naia waited only long enough for another crack of lightning to flash overhead before she hurried onward, hoping she might make it to the castle before the second storm front brought its wrath upon the Dark Wood.