The Serpent and the Crown Page 14

  He heard something coming down the tunnel on the left. It sounded like it was tumbling or rolling down. He backed away and prepared to fight the Cruxai in the torchlight, like he had back in Dorfin. He remembered that he must not look in their eyes. His heart pounded as the sound grew louder and he wished he had a weapon. Something came rolling into the room and leapt up to a standing position. Jankaro was surprised to see not a Cruxai, but a short old man with the dark skin and broad nose of a man from the jungle.

  “Grandson,” said the man with a smile. “I am Shoro, father of Jorobai. I am your grandfather.”

  Jankaro sized up the man as they stared at one another. Shoro smiled, grimaced, pulled his ears out, bulged his eyes and puffed his cheeks. He danced around flapping his arms like wings and lifting his knees high. Jankaro saw his father in the old man’s features.

  “Do you recognize me? Do you remember the chief who blessed the hunters on the night of the initiatory hunt? If you remember me, that would be the last you remember. I was killed that night by those creatures. I took a sword right through my gut.” He made his hand into the shape of a sword and pressed it right through his flesh, then made a horrible face and collapsed to the ground.

  Jankaro stared in disbelief and awe. “I remember you. I never knew you my whole life. But I was in the chamber and I had a vision, I saw my mother, and I remember… I saw you too.”

  Shoro got up and dusted himself off. “So that was my death!” He threw his head back and laughed out loud. “I thought it was the end. But it’s just different. It’s a different universe over here on the other side, but we’ll talk about that later when you get here. I can only use this physical form for special occasions. Sorry I couldn’t stick around. They got me. But you know what you are going to do about that, don’t you?”

  “Grandfather, I will avenge you.”

  “Don’t worry about avenging me. Just play your role and help out. Offer your gifts. Oh, speaking of gifts, that is why I am here. I am here to give you a gift. But I will need the help of your other grandfather. Where is Shikado? Shikado! Where are you?!”

  A rumbling sound emerged from the tunnel on the right. Another old man rolled in and leapt to his feet. He wore a multicolored headdress and strands of beads and feathers hanging from his arms and legs. He danced around the room waving a sword as he chanted a familiar song. It was the song that his mother sang for him, the one he associated with the second plant he had taken in the chamber. Shikado sang forcefully and it hit Jankaro like a wave, pushing him back against the wall. Jankaro’s eyes widened as his feet left the floor and his whole body started sliding up the wall. Shikado stalked toward him, glaring at him with his eyes wide.

  “Shikado, stop! This is your grandson! Shalea’s son, Jankaro!” Shikado stopped. He stopped singing and Jankaro collapsed to the floor.

  “Prove it. Prove you are he,” said Shikado.

  Jankaro stood up and looked at his other grandfather. He studied the face of the man and he could see his mother’s features, and his own. They looked deep into each other’s eyes.

  “Oh Sagaya, it is you,” Shikado gasped. “You are my grandson!”

  “Shikado!” Shoro snapped. “We are here to give Jankaro our gifts. He is being initiated to the soldier clan. He is a warrior, like us. He needs our help.”

  “Do you know how I died?” Shikado asked Jankaro.

  “No. I only saw how my mother and Shoro died.”

  “Well, do you know who killed me?”

  “No.”

  “It was the ones you call the Cruxai. Here is how they did it.” Shikado reached behind his back and pulled out a big sword, full of dings, with a fancy handle, just like the ones Jankaro had seen Altamont make. “It was with this sword. They attacked my village in the middle of the night. They killed all of us. And here’s what they did to me!” He turned to face Shoro, swung the sword and chopped off his head.

  Shoro’s head tumbled across the room and hit the wall.

  “Hey!” his head cried as his body ran to it. “I’ll show you!” Shoro’s body stooped down, picked up his head and reattached it. Then he ran at Shikado.

  “I’ll show you!!” He grabbed the sword and tried to take it away, but Shikado would not release it. They grappled all around the room, grunting in each other’s faces. The sword smacked against the walls and the floor as they fought over it. Jankaro ducked and the sword smacked into the wall where his head had been.

  “What are you doing?!” He shouted at them.

  They stopped and let the sword clatter to the ground. They looked at each other and grinned. They started giggling and cackling as they rolled around the floor. “Oh grandson,” said Shikado. “It’s great to have my body back!” He smiled at Jankaro as he patted his legs and squeezed his arm muscles.

  “Shikado doesn’t exactly know what’s going on,” said Shoro with a shrug. “All people born of the forest will never be safe, nor the people of Galdea, until Agustin and his army of Cruxai are defeated. The elder seed called upon us to help you.”

  “Yes, grandson, now I see,” said Shikado. He opened his eyes wide and they became diamonds glowing bright and dancing around. Then they returned to normal. He smiled, chuckled and did a little dance. “Here, take this sword.” It glowed brightly in his hand. He walked over and presented it to Jankaro. By the time Jankaro held it in his hands, it was restored and polished like new, engraved with Galdean runes along the broad side of the blade. It was the kind of craftsmanship that Altamont offered Rafael, the prince.

  Jankaro swung it round and round, straight at his grandfather’s head. Shikado ducked, and they all laughed. Jankaro couldn’t help but surrender to the levity of his grandfathers.

  Shikado sang the song again. Shoro walked over to the wall and pressed on one of the stones. It turned around and behind it there was a space. And in that space there was something brown. It was a pile of some sort of plant matter. Shoro picked it up and brought it over to Jankaro as Shikado continued along with the chant, singing directly into Jankaro’s ear. Shoro worked at the plant matter with his hands and it resembled a long sash made of thinly sliced wood.

  “This is the bark of the yanigo tree. This will protect you.” Shoro said as he wrapped it around Jankaro’s wrist. Shoro let go and it felt like thick cloth wrapped itself all around body. It felt like his own skin. He held up his hands and noticed the brown swirls tracing over his palms.

  Shikado brought his chant to a close. “Now we will call you woodface,” he said as he and Shoro laughed and pointed at Jankaro.

  After their laughter subsided, Shoro announced that it was time for them to go. “Unfortunately we can’t keep these bodies and come with you. We only came here to help you and now we must return to our world. One more thing, grandson. Don’t be confused. The only path is forward.” He pointed at the tunnel directly across from where Jankaro had entered the chamber, and he felt a draft of cool air on his new skin. In that draft of air there was a faint, foul smell and he recognized it as that of his enemy. No wonder they brought him the sword and wooden skin. “Goodbye grandson.” Shoro embraced him, and walked back into the tunnel on the left.

  Shikado embraced him, and began to walk away to the right. Then he turned around. “Your mother watches over you, Jankaro, as do I, and your grandmother too. Make us proud, and we will prepare a welcome for you when you reach the other side.”

  Jankaro stood in the chamber in silence as the last sound of his grandfathers’ footsteps faded. He looked down at the bright Galdean sword in his hand and studied his strange new skin. He felt the elder seed inside his stomach, tugging him forward. His body seemed to move of its own volition as he moved toward the tunnel in front of him. He smelled Cruxai on a draft of air coming from the tunnel. He braced himself and gripped his sword tight as he walked into it, guided by the elder seed.

  The tunnel spiraled down for several minutes an
d finally opened up into another large cavernous chamber much bigger than the one above where he had met his grandfathers. In this chamber there were many tunnels. He heard the sound of someone coming off to his right and he turned to face it. A single Cruxai entered, armed with a crude axe, a chipped shield, and Galdean armor. His face was covered by a mask fashioned from the dried skin of a man’s face, and the glowing yellow eyes peered out from behind it. He looked up at Jankaro, hissed and brandished his weapon. Jankaro let out a war cry and sprinted forward with his sword held high.

  He brought his sword down as the Cruxai held up its shield. The shield split in two as the Cruxai fell to the ground. Jankaro was impressed with his own strength, until the Cruxai countered with a swipe of his axe aimed at Jankaro’s leg. He jumped out of the way as the blade carved a shallow cut through his tough yanigo skin and drew a trickle of blood. But it was all over in an instant as Jankaro’s sword came crashing down again, right through the Cruxai’s head, and his body went limp.

  Jankaro watched the blood trickle down his leg and questioned whether the yanigo bark provided any protection. He wiped the blood from his sword on a piece of the dead Cruxai’s clothing, but there were footsteps behind him and he whirled to see two more of them coming at him. They had the more typical Cruxai faces, with reptilian and mammalian features mixed together in a hideous blend. Their bodies were covered with scales like serpents but hair grew from their heads and chins. They charged at him with their swords held high, ready to deliver a killing blow.

  Just before they attacked, Jankaro leapt to his left and blocked the blow from the Cruxai on the left. Their swords clashed, then the Cruxai raised his sword and swung again. Jankaro ducked, whirled, kicked out his foot and tripped the other Cruxai as it came in for its first swing. It stumbled into the other Cruxai and their swords collided. As they turned to attack Jankaro again, his sword was already in motion as it caught the second Cruxai’s wrist and sent his hand dropping to the ground with the sword still clutched in it. Blood sprayed everywhere as it lurched backward.

  Jankaro was turned from his swing when the other Cruxai brought its sword down on him. He had no time to block with his sword, so he flowed with his own momentum, got his body underneath the path of the sword and drove his shoulder into its chest. He threw his upper body up and sent its arms up again. As it tried to bring the sword down on him he gave it a swift kick to the chest and sent it reeling back. He turned and chopped off the head of the wounded one as it tried to recover its sword. He turned again to block another slash from the one he had just kicked as blood splashed from the blade on impact. Jankaro growled and the Cruxai hissed as they swung at each other and their swords clashed. Jankaro’s strength proved greater; one of his blows caught the side of the Cruxai’s head as it attempted to block. His next swing sent its sword clattering to the ground, and the next drove down the side of its neck and carved a great gash in its chest. It grabbed Jankaro’s sword and pulled for a moment, but the wound was too great. It collapsed to the ground and released its sword. Jankaro remembered the wound he had suffered to his foot in Dorfin. He was taking no chances. He swung his sword again and chopped off its head.

  Three more appeared simultaneously from different tunnels in the chamber. They rode lizard horses and charged Jankaro all at once. He threw a discarded axe at one of them and hit the lizard horse in the eye, causing the rider to fall. The first one to reach him got his arm chopped off and it flew against the wall with the sword still gripped in its hand. As the third one came closing in, Jankaro swung up and in the same stroke chopped the head off the lizard horse and blocked the blow from the descending blade. He swung again and killed the rider before he fell from his lizard horse. The other two attacked again, but were easily dispatched. He roared as the lone surviving lizard horse ran away down one of the dark tunnels. Jankaro thought he must be something special with the blade, but as he felt the elder seed burn within, he realized it was the reason for his success. He marveled at the moves he created so reflexively in the heat of the moment. He knew that this experience would serve him in battles to come.

  Then came four bigger Cruxai. They battered him around, cut his arm, and had him gasping for air. He clashed face to face with the last one and it was hard to avert his eyes as its foul breath made him nauseous. He pushed back and unleashed a volley of eight slashes with his sword. The final two were not defended, and the Cruxai fell dead.

  Dead bodies, severed limbs, blood, and weapons cluttered the chamber. The smell made Jankaro gag when along came five of the biggest, ugliest Cruxai he had ever seen. They towered above him and their huge, glowing eyes blazed red. They were covered with scraggly grey-brown fur and each had two large horns growing out the top of their head. One of them picked an arm off the ground and took a bite. They slowly closed in around him with sword, axe, club, mace and spear. His fear came on strong, and he channeled it into strength as he charged to meet his attackers.

  Once again his speed and virtuosity saved him. He was in the middle and he dodged them from all sides. The club caught him across the shoulder and he fell down. He rolled to miss the axe. He chopped off the foot of one. He rolled, grabbed a sword and flung it through the neck of another. He blocked the sword but his own sword bounced back and nicked his forehead. He got up, dodged a few more savage blows and ran to the far side of the chamber. The one with the club was down on its back and the sword stood straight up from its throat. The one with the spear was hopping on one foot while the blood spurted out its leg. The other four came after him. He fought hard, but his arms grew weary from their heavy blows. He was able to kill the one with the spear, as the damage from its wound slowed it down.

  The last three came after him with renewed fury. He was blocking or dodging all of their hacks and thrusts but the mace caught the top of his head as he tried to duck. It knocked him down and he was dizzy for a second. He stabilized just in time to dive to his left and avoid a downward swing from the sword. The axe swung at his head and he blocked it with his sword, but bobbled his grip and nearly lost it. He staggered away from them and couldn’t understand why there were only two. When he looked down to see a spear sticking through the chest and out the back of the third, it toppled over gripping feebly at the spear that pierced it through the heart. The other two roared and charged him again before he had time to wonder where that spear had come from.

  It was painful to block their blows, and he couldn’t mount an attack on either of them. Blood was trickling over his eyelids and he could barely see. The axe cut him across the shoulder and his blood squirted out. He kept trying to fight but he could barely hold the sword. Finally the blows came at him more slowly. He realized he was only fighting the one with the sword. As they clashed, he noticed from the corner of his eye that there was another man in the chamber, fighting with the other Cruxai.

  Now that there was only one of them to fight, Jankaro could feel his advantage returning as he wiped the blood from his brow in between blocks. He could hear it grunting, growling and hissing at him with greater intensity as the fight dragged on. It stumbled on a Cruxai corpse and Jankaro found an opening. The hairy Cruxai was late to block and Jankaro’s sword opened up a gash across the front of its neck. A few more swings of his sword and it was over.

  Jankaro could still hear clanging steal. He turned around to see the man fighting with the other Cruxai. The man looked familiar. He raced in to help, but just as he arrived it was over. The man buried his sword all the way up to the hilt straight through the Cruxai’s chest and yanked it back out again as the body collapsed to the ground.

  Jankaro met the man’s eyes and dropped his sword in shock. “Rongo!”

  He embraced his uncle.

  “Jankaro, you’ve gotten much bigger,” Rongo exclaimed as he returned the embrace. “And you’ve become quite the fighter! But I think you better pick up that sword.”

  Jankaro wheeled around to see that all of the Cruxai bodies were l
ying still, but the stench was still unbearable. He picked up his sword. They both looked around for a moment and braced for the next wave of attacks.

  After a few moments, when no further attacks came, Rongo spoke.

  “You beat them, Jankaro. You beat the demons, your tormentors. Come with me, we will walk to the other side together and share our stories.”

  Rongo started to walk toward one of the tunnels. Jankaro was about to follow him but the elder seed pulled him in another direction.

  “I’m sorry uncle, but I can’t go with you. I need to go this way.” Jankaro pointed toward another tunnel.

  “You don’t look dead,” said Rongo.

  He had gashes all across his chest and his skin was very pale. “I am dead. I battled a sea monster and I beat it, but it cost me my life. I was helping Jorobai search for you. But now he searches in vain. He will have to die to find you here on the other side.”

  “I’m not dead. The Galdeans gave me a seed called the elder seed, and it brought me here, to… where are we? The spirit world? I will pass through this initiation and become a soldier, and I will defeat the Cruxai that killed my mother. I know that you always kept it from me.” Jankaro felt a surge of resentment. “But I saw it all in a vision. I know how she died.” He gestured to the festering bodies strewn across the floor. “She was killed by these mongrel monsters called the Cruxai. They are my demons, but they have not been conquered. This is only the beginning.”

  “What happened to you? We tracked you and all we found was your knife.”

  Jankaro related his tale of the bargain with the snake and everything he experienced with the Galdeans and their war with the Cruxai. It felt good to have Rongo’s attention one last time. He thanked him for always looking after him and teaching him so many skills. “Where is Jorobai?”