The Rock of Ivanore (15 page)

“Jerrid!” Zody called to him. “Help me out of these
ropes! I want to come with you!” Zody's Mardok host struck him with the back of his hand while the others tried to calm their horses. In the confusion, Jerrid wasted no time in getting to his feet and darting away into the nearest thicket.

Zody watched Jerrid's retreat, his lip already swelling from the Mardok's blow. “Did you see that?” he said to Tristan and Clovis, his voice a choked whisper. “He left me behind.”

The Mardok on the ground quickly mounted his horse, making ready to follow his escaped prisoner.

“Let him go!” shouted Arik. “We haven't time to search for him. And besides,” he continued, motioning for the others to follow him as he urged his horse onward, “whatever is out there will save us the trouble.”

t was dark when Marcus awoke to the smell of damp ash, the remains of the previous night's fire. A thin film of moisture covered his face. He stood up and peered through the haze. The darkness around him was not the darkness of nighttime, but of a heavy mist that hung in the air like an ethereal phantom. He held his hand up in front of his face but saw nothing.

“Jayson?” His voice echoed back, hollow and empty. “Kelvin? Bryn!”

The fog swirled around him, suffocating him. He held out his hands and took a step forward, but then a terrifying thought struck him: I'm alone!

As the darkness pressed in on him, he fought the urge
to run, for he knew that if he wandered blindly in the dark, he might become lost.

For a moment, panic set in, but then he remembered that he was not completely alone after all. He felt along the ground until his fingers found the walking stick. “Xerxes, wake up!” he said. The eagle squawked loudly.

“I was having a lovely dream until you so rudely . . . Oh my!” Xerxes shivered in Marcus's hands. Marcus was glad to have someone to talk to until he could locate the others.

“Xerxes, it seems that—”

“I'm blind!” shouted Xerxes. “My eyes have been put out! Everything has gone dark!” He was hysterical, and Marcus was afraid he might cry.

“You're not blind,” said Marcus. “There's a mist this morning, that's all.” In trying to comfort Xerxes, he felt comforted himself, though he could not shake his increasing apprehension. Determined to remain calm, he called out again. “Jayson! Kelvin!”

“Here!” Kelvin's voice cut through the dense vapor like a beam of light.

Marcus felt the comforting warmth of another person's presence. Kelvin grasped his arm.

“You all right?” Kelvin asked.

“I am now,” answered Marcus. “This fog . . . I've never seen anything like it. Where are Jayson and Bryn?”

“Here,” said Jayson's voice beside him. “Since we can't see well enough to navigate by land, I think it would be best to follow the river downstream.”

Kelvin let go of Marcus, and immediately the dark seemed to close in on him again.

“Wait!” Marcus said, the familiar anxiety returning. “I'm all turned around.”

Bryn's small child's hand slipped into his.

“The fog doesn't bother me,” said Bryn, calling out to Jayson and Kelvin, as well. “Grocs use our sense of smell to travel at night. I can lead you.”

Kelvin grasped Marcus's other hand and placed a rope in his palm. “Hold onto this,” he said, ignoring Bryn. “It's the only way to stay together.”

“That's all right, Bryn,” said Jayson. “We Agorans get around pretty well at night, too.”

Jayson led Marcus and Kelvin down a gently sloping hill. The ground beneath their feet became soft and soggy, and soon they were standing in six inches of rapidly moving water.

“Wouldn't it be safer to wait until the fog lifts?” asked Marcus.

“We haven't any time to waste. And besides,” said Jayson, “this isn't fog. Well, not really.”

“If it isn't fog, what is it?” Marcus felt the rope grow taut in his hand. Kelvin, who walked ahead of him, pulled him gently along as they followed Jayson downstream.

“It's laundry day,” said Jayson.

“Laundry day?” repeated Marcus. “What's laundry day?”

hat do you mean ‘laundry day'?” Kelvin sounded as perplexed as Marcus felt.

“You'll understand what I mean when we reach Lake Olsnar,” said Jayson. “It's not far. This stream will lead us right to it.”

They followed the stream for another quarter of an hour. By the time they reached the lake, the mist was so concentrated that it saturated their clothes with water. Marcus felt as though he had waded through the lake itself. Jayson led them around the lake and up a hill. The mist grew thinner until, at the top of the hill, the air was clear. The sun shone brightly overhead, but the valley below was a soft, cottony blanket of vapor.

Jayson pointed to the opposite side of the lake. “Look there,” he said.

Marcus strained his eyes to see through the swirls of white, and then he saw it, or rather, he saw
them
. At least a dozen heads and shoulders seemed to float above the mist like massive marble sculptures. On closer inspection, however, Marcus realized that the heads were not floating at all. They were attached to entire bodies—bodies so tall that their upper halves rose above the surface of the fog. The giants moved methodically through the vapor, which spilled over the rims of several massive black vats.

“Who are they?” asked Kelvin. Marcus was too astounded to speak. He had never seen a giant before.

“Cyclopes,” said Jayson. Marcus looked again, and though he hadn't realized it at first, he now saw that each giant's face had only one large eye in the center of its forehead. Kelvin strung his bow and leveled an arrow toward the lake, but Jayson took the arrow in his fist. “They're harmless,” he said.

“Harmless?” said Kelvin. “They've killed humans before!”

“Only in self-defense,” Jayson explained. “Cyclopes may be big, but they are gentle creatures.”

The Cyclopes stirred their vats with large wooden paddles. One lifted a steaming giant-sized article of clothing from a vat and hung it on the branch of a nearby tree.

Laundry day.

Jayson stood and, cupping his hands around his mouth, called out. “Hello there! Hello!”

He waved his arms in the air. The Cyclopes stopped stirring to look up. When they saw Jayson, they began to talk animatedly among themselves. One Cyclops came forward, walking through the lake as if it were nothing more than a shallow swamp. When it reached the other side, it knelt down and rested its chin on top of the hill.

“
Wiloth
, Jayson,” it said in a voice that was both melodious and breathy. “
Eebreth undraja beyosh
?”

Jayson smiled warmly at the gentle giant and rubbed the side of its bald head with his hand. “
Eetu,
” he said. “
Yalay anoreth Dukar
.”

Bryn tugged on Marcus's sleeve. “What did it say?” he whispered.

“He's welcoming Jayson back,” said Marcus, surprised at how easily the translation came. “It speaks a dialect of the ancient tongue.”

Bryn cowered behind him, frightened by the sheer size of the Cyclopes. Jayson rubbed behind the Cyclops's ears. The creature closed its eye and purred like a kitten.

“I take it they're friends of yours?” Kelvin asked Jayson.

“Yes. This one's name is Breah.”

“I didn't think there were any of them left on this part of the island.”

“Like the Agorans, the Cyclopes have been forcibly removed from their lands,” explained Jayson. “Only a few bands of them remain in this valley, but it's only a matter of time before they'll be forced out, as well.”

Jayson continued speaking with the Cyclops in its own tongue. Marcus recognized many of the words. A second
Cyclops soon appeared through the mist. Its greeting surprised Marcus, for it spoke not in the ancient tongue, but in the language of humans.

“I thought I heard a familiar voice,” it said. This Cyclops's hair was speckled with gray and there was only a scar where its eye should have been. “The others believed you had passed to the next life, but I knew one day Jayson would again be in our midst.”

“
Wiloth
, Vos,” said Jayson respectfully.

“Will you stay and feast with us?” asked Vos.

“I'm sorry, but no,” replied Jayson. “My time is short. I must reach Dokur by midday tomorrow.”

“Dokur? There is nothing there but thieves and vandals. Better to stay here among friends.”

“I must go,” said Jayson, giving Breah one last rub behind the ears. Vos raised his one bushy eyebrow.

“You go to find Ivanore. I know what they say about her, that she is lost,” said Vos, “but do not be so quick to believe what you hear. Many believed you were lost, and yet here you stand.”

“Ivanore lost? I don't understand.”

“I know little except what I hear in the breeze. Perhaps you will learn more when you reach your destination. Is there anything I can do to be of assistance?”

Jayson nodded. “One thing. We are being followed by a group of Mardoks. Could you detain them should they come by the lake?”

Vos scratched his gray head with a long, bony finger. “A group of horsemen passed by this morning before day-break.
But they have long since gone their way. I am sorry.”

“It is of no consequence, my friend,” said Jayson. “Do not concern yourself. I must be on my way now. Perhaps the gods will allow our paths to cross again one day.”

Jayson said his goodbyes, and the Cyclopes returned to their laundry. As Marcus followed Jayson down the opposite side of the hill, he hesitated to ask any more about their brief encounter with the Cyclopes, but what Vos said concerned him.

“The horsemen Vos spoke of, could they be the Mardoks?”

“Yes,” answered Jayson. “Arik must have passed us during the night. We haven't much time.”

s Marcus and the others reached the bottom of the hill at the far side of Lake Olsnar, the mist grew dense once again. Without the river nearby, Marcus feared that navigating would be impossible.