Shadows of the Dark Crystal (21 page)

To save her people, she had to let go of her brother.

“No,” she said, but the truth had already taken root.

She felt other words on her lips, though they were silent—
thank you,
I'm sorry
—and then Kylan's hands on her arms, taking her away, and she went without protest. Leaves and branches scratched her cheeks and shoulders, still wet like everything else—the ground half mud, the plants slick with blooming algae, and Naia's cheeks with tears that left a trail of vanishing saltwater behind them on their escape.

The underbrush broke and gave way to a familiar sight—the Black River, as peaceful as ever, winding through the Dark Wood on its way north. Waiting beside a tree was a Landstrider. Tavra's Landstrider, it seemed, as it was still saddled and bridled with gear. The sight of the beast shot Naia full of fresh remorse for its rider, still within the Skeksis' grasp at the Castle of the Crystal, if she was even alive. Naia let out a cry of anguish, feeling pain take hold of her heart as she thought of the Gelfling in the tower, withered and weak and drained of their essence, their whereabouts unknown to anyone.

And Gurjin . . .

“Up,” Kylan said. He was standing on the reins to the Landstrider, climbing high up to its back. “Up! We have to go!”

“Gurjin,” she said, but that was all she could say, the rest of her sentence lost in grief. Unable to climb as the feeling overwhelmed her, all she could do was cling to the reins as Kylan pulled her up behind him. She couldn't stop the oncoming tears, pressing her face against Kylan's back as he shook the reins, and muffling her sobs in the thick hood of his cloak. With an escalating lope, the Landstrider headed off along the riverbank under a sky slowly brightening with the rise of the Three Brothers.

N
aia dreamed of a blue and open sky suddenly split by a shock of blinding fire. It cut through the heavens like a flaming sword, and it was only because she was dreaming that the heat of its light did not burn her eyes from her head. Above, in the zenith of the sky, the white, rose, purple light of the Three Brothers pulsed as they fell in line, one in front of the other, merged—one—and then they fell, quickly, as if knocked from the sky by one another. They split in their descent, each sinking below its own horizon with a green flash. Then the sky grew darker and darker still, and instead of thousands of stars within its arms, Naia counted only seven, laid out in the hoop of Yesmit, Aughra's Eye.

It was a memory, she felt instinctively; but she wasn't sure whose. Was this a dreamfast with Kylan, a glimpse into one of the many colorful songs he had stored in him? Maybe this was what a song was to a song teller, this sublime, awesome spectacle . . . Or maybe it was a dreamfast with Thra itself, the living earth below and all around them, a memory imprinted into the life force of all that came of it. These questions went unanswered, but the meaning was clear: Night was coming, the inevitable, and darkness would soon be upon them.

When she woke, she saw thick branches supporting a thatched
roof overgrown with woody vines and flat three-pointed leaves. Spiraling tendrils and clusters of berries dangled from the green foliage, reminding her, foggily, of home. Her head was half-sunk in a soft pillow, and a quilt hand-stitched in forest greens and reds was folded carefully around her shoulders. It was morning—or day, perhaps. How long had she been sleeping? Trying to think back, all she remembered was the cold ride on the back of the Landstrider, and her throat and chest ached from the hundreds of apologies she had whispered and hundreds more tears she had shed. After, that she remembered nothing.

She heard voices and sat up, holding her forehead when her vision swam from the movement. She had bandages here and there, and her body throbbed from dozens of bruises and little cuts, but for the most part, she was in one piece . . . or more so. Folded gently against her back, her wings rested like a mantle, tender in their new state but already more developed than when they had first appeared. She stretched them, feeling the foreign sensation.

A wood crate took up most of the cozy room, upon which the remains of her belongings were laid out with care. She had left Sog with her father's pack, full of supplies for the long journey to Ha'rar. Now, here she was, nowhere near the northern home of the Gelfling All-Maudra, with only a pair of Spriton shoes and the bone shard she'd broken off the Hunter's—
Lord skekMal's
—mask. That was all—not even the tunic she'd left in was to be found, probably discarded after all the stains and tearing it had taken. Naia felt tears coming again, and she put her face in her
hands when she realized Gurjin's knife was gone as well, lost somewhere deep at the bottom of the castle moat, and with it, the last of her brother she would be likely to see. But, like Gurjin, she had lost the dagger so that she might survive, as much as she wished it could have been otherwise.

She pulled open the heavy window curtains and gasped. Outside, she saw dozens—maybe hundreds—of gray stone dwellings with pocketed windows, arranged in a crescent around a clear indigo lake. Naia had never seen so many homes in one place, nor seen Gelfling dwellings of this type. Many bloomed at the roof with flowers as big as two hands together, red and pink and orange; some even jutted from the lake itself, all grown over with dense forest foliage. Between, beside, and even growing out of the center of some, huge trees wove in and out of the dwellings and narrow streets. Their upper canopies cast safe shade from above, decorated with lanterns and climbing ropes and ancient engravings within the bark. The homes were one with the trees, the village one with the forest. There was only one place they could be.

There was a light knock at the entrance, and she straightened the pale shift she had been clothed in before calling for the visitor to enter.

“Kylan!”

Naia embraced him as soon as he entered, holding tight to let him know how much his safety meant to her. Her tears began anew when she saw the furry slippery form perched on his shoulder. Neech, quivering with joy, wound up and down her
arms and showered her with a mix of chirps and friendly nose- and whisker-kisses. She held him and kissed his ears, falling back to the bed in relief.

“I was so worried I'd lost you, too, little eel. Rotten spithead! Making me worry.”

“He caught up with us after we crossed the river,” Kylan said. He dipped his hand into his sleeve and withdrew a small cloth-wrapped parcel. “With this.”

Naia knew what was within, but the sight of Gurjin's dagger brought a last tear to her eye regardless when she revealed it. It seemed like such a stupid thing to care about, especially after she had been resigned to having lost it. She had carried it so long in resentment—or in faith?—that she hardly remembered whether it had been more lucky than not in the end.

“Kylan,” she said. “You brought us all the way to Stone-in-the-Wood?”

Her friend folded his arms and looked at his toes.

“I wouldn't be much of a song teller if I couldn't find the way to the home of Jarra-Jen, would I?”

They sat in silence, and Naia looked at her reflection in the freshly polished blade of Gurjin's knife. She missed him. That was all she could think in the dull aftermath. She had just managed to save him, and now he was gone. It was a pain she couldn't really comprehend, something bigger than she was, too big to hold on to in a way that she could control. The most she could do now was hope it wouldn't grow so big, it would overwhelm her. Gurjin had given his life for her, willingly, and that was all that kept her from
dissolving into tears of remorse. She would not regret his sacrifice.

“Thank you . . . Where are we? I mean, I know this must be Stone-in-the-Wood, but whose house is this? Do they know who we are? Are we safe from the Skeksis?”

Kylan answered her question with a smile and a nod. He was excited about something, but he was holding back. It was almost as if he didn't want to tell her.

“Yes,” he finally said. “This house . . . is Rian's.”

“Rian? You already found him?”

Kylan held up his hands to calm her. “No, no! It's his family's house. I found them when we arrived last night. He's not living in Stone-in-the-Wood, but he's made contact with his family. He told them everything, and they believe him. He told them to wait for Gurjin. When we got here and I told them you were Gurjin's sister, they helped. They told me where Rian is. I was going to meet him later today.”

Naia crossed her arms and felt her wings flick with suspicion.

“If you know where Rian is and we're going to see him
today
, then why do you sound sad?”

Her friend looked out the window and tugged on a braid. He wasn't sad, she realized. It was reluctance. He confirmed it when he spoke.

“You lost your brother,” he said. “And you lost your friend Tavra. You've been through so much. I don't think it's fair that you have to do all that one night and keep moving the next afternoon. You deserve time to mourn . . . I was thinking you might want to go home, to Sog.”

Naia thought of her hammock and her parents and sisters, the warmth of Great Smerth. The secluded, isolated safety of the heart of Sog. She wanted it all, to be surrounded in it, to close her eyes and be taken away from what she had seen in the Dark Wood, the Castle of the Crystal—in her dream. She wanted to pull her own blankets above her head and hold on to the memories of before Gurjin had left, before Tavra had appeared. Before she had known what was going on in the world outside the swamp. Before she had seen the tall black shadows cast by the Skeksis Lords of Thra.

She opened her fingers and placed her hands in her lap, palms up. As much as she wanted to go back, to hold tightly to the days of the past, it would not stop the seasons, nor the Brothers or Sisters. And it would not stop the Skeksis from their plot. The only way to be sure she could return home again, the place that had sheltered her for so long, was to let go of what had been and take sight of what could be.

“I do want to go home,” she said, straightening her back. She felt her wings flutter with her determination and knew she was making the right decision. “But I left Sog to meet with the All-Maudra. Tavra charged me with relaying a message—and she was captured protecting me and the rest of our people. I don't want her sacrifice, or Gurjin's, to go to waste. Our people are still in danger.”

Naia took Gurjin's knife and slid away from the warm comfort of the bed to stand beside her friend. Her feet were sore, but she would bear it. She had good Spriton shoes, after all. There was no way she could have made it this far in her sandals made of tree
bark. She suffered to think how miserable and impossible it would have been.

“I want to go home, and I will . . . but not yet. So, let's get packed and meet Rian, and figure out what we're going to do.”

Naia held out her hand to Kylan. He was still reluctant, but something about his smile was relieved, too. He took her hand and squeezed.

Over Kylan's shoulder, Naia glanced at her shoes atop the crate, satisfied with the wear they had admirably endured. They had seen fields and highlands, tripped through bramble in the Dark Wood, and muffled her footsteps within the Castle of the Crystal. All that and still in one piece, and for that Naia was glad. It would be many more leagues before they could retire.

GLOSSARY

bola
: A Y-shaped length of knotted rope with stones tied to each of the three ends. Used as a weapon, the
bola
can be swung or thrown, enabling the wielder to ensnare prey.

daeydoim
: Six-legged desert-dwelling creatures with large dorsal scales and broad hooves. Frequently domesticated by desert nomads.

fizzgig
: A small furry carnivore native to the Dark Wood. Sometimes kept as a pet.

hooyim
: One of the many colorful leaping fish species that migrate in large schools along the northern Sifan coasts. Often called the jewels of the sea.

Landstrider
: Long-legged hooved beasts common to the Spriton plains.

maudra
: Literally “mother.” The matriarch and wise woman of a Gelfling clan.

maudren
: Literally, “those of the mother.” The family of a Gelfling
maudra.

muski
: Flying quilled eels endemic to the Swamp of Sog. Babies are very small, but adults never stop growing. The oldest known muski was said to be as wide as the Black River.

ninet
: One of Thra's nine orbital seasons caused by the configuration of the three suns. Arcs in which Thra is farthest from the suns are winter ninets; arcs in which Thra is nearest are summer ninets. Each ninet lasts approximately one hundred trine.

swoothu
: Flying creatures with strange sleeping patterns. Many act as couriers for the Gelfling clans in exchange for food and shelter.

ta
: A hot beverage made by mixing boiling water and spices.

Three Brothers
: Thra's three suns: the Great Sun, the Rose Sun, and the Dying Sun.

Three Sisters
: Thra's three moons: the Blue Moon, the Pearl Moon, and the Hidden Moon.

trine
: The orbital period of Thra moving around the Great Sun, roughly equivalent to an Earth year.

unamoth
: A large-winged pearly white insect that sheds its skin once every unum.

unum
: The time for Thra's largest moon to circle Thra once, roughly equivalent to an Earth month.

vliya
: Literally “blue fire.” Gelfling life essence.

vliyaya
: Literally “flame of the blue fire.” Gelfling mystic arts.

APPENDIX

The Gelfling Clans

VAPRA

Sigil animal: Unamoth

Maudra: Mayrin, the All-Maudra

The Vapra clan was a beautiful race with white hair, fair skin, and gossamer-winged women. Considered the oldest of the Gelfling clans, the Vapra resided in cliffside villages along the northern coasts, making their capital in Ha'rar. The Vapra's
maudra
, Mayrin, doubled as All-Maudra, matriarch leader of all the Gelfling clans. Vapra were skilled at camouflage; their
vliyaya
focused on light-changing magic, allowing them to become nearly invisible.

STONEWOOD

Sigil animal: Fizzgig

Maudra: Fara, the Rock Singer

This clan was a proud and ancient people who dwelled on the fertile lands near and within the Dark Wood. They made their main home in Stone-in-the-Wood, the historical home of Jarra-Jen. Many Stonewood Gelfling were valuable guards at the Castle of the Crystal. They were farmers and cobblers and makers of tools. They were inventive but pastoral; like their sigil animal, they were peaceful but fierce when threatened.

SPRITON

Sigil animal: Landstrider

Maudra: Mera, the Dream Stitcher

Age-old rivals of the Stonewood clan, the Spritons were a warrior race inhabiting the rolling fields south of the Dark Wood. With such bountiful land to raise crops and family, this clan's territory spread to cover the valley in several villages. Counted among the most fierce fighters of the Gelfling race, the Spriton were often called upon to serve as soldiers for the Skeksis Lords and guards at the Castle of the Crystal.

SIFA

Sigil animal: Hooyim

Maudra: Gem-Eyed Ethri

Found in coastal villages along the Silver Sea, the Sifa were skilled fishermen and sailors, but very superstitious. Explorers by nature, the Sifa were competent in battle—but they truly excelled at survival. Sifan
vliyaya
focused Gelfling luck magic into inanimate objects; Sifan charms enchanted with different spells were highly desired by travelers, craftsmen, and warriors of all clans.

DOUSAN

Sigil animal: Daeydoim

Maudra: Seethi, the Skin Painter

This clan made their settlements on sandships—amazing constructs of bone and crystal that navigated the Crystal Sea like
ocean vessels. Resilient even within the arid climate of the desert, the Dousan thrived. Their culture was shrouded and unsettlingly quiet, their language made of whispers and gestures, their life stories told in the intricate magic tattoos painting their bodies.

DRENCHEN

Sigil animal: Muski

Maudra: Laesid, the Blue Stone Healer

The Drenchen clan was a race of amphibious Gelfling who wallowed in the putrid Swamp of Sog, deep in the southernmost reaches of the Skarith region. Fatter and hairier than the rest of their race, the Drenchen were powerful in combat, but generally preferred to keep to themselves. Though one of the smallest Gelfling clans, the Drenchen had the largest sense of clan pride; they were loyal to one another, but remained as distant from other clans as possible.

GROTTAN

Sigil animal: Hollerbat

Maudra: Argot, the Shadow Bender

A mysterious, secretive breed who dwelled in perpetual darkness in the Caves of Grot. Generations in the shadows left them with an extreme sensitivity to light—and solid black eyes that could see in the dark and large ears to make out even the faintest of echoes. The Grottan clan was said to number less than three dozen Gelfling, and their life span was said to be unheard of, lasting three to four times as long as other Gelfling.