The Civilization, page 14
The howling became guttural. She couldn’t ignore it and she struggled to place it. To boost her confidence, she began checking off all the nightmarish situations she had faced already. The most frightening was back in the forest. That seemed so long ago. She put herself in these situations. She was used to this.
The Jakuba had terrified her, but she survived. She could survive this. Her skin smoldered. It was too hot and clammy down here.
The new passageway was shorter than the first one, and when she came to the end of it, a shiny fleck revealed itself. An opening. She hesitated, taking deep breaths. She sweated through her clothes. What were her chances of survival? She jolted with the deep howl that rung out behind her. Small mole rat creatures rushed toward her. Kadsa jumped and threw herself backward, losing her balance. She tumbled down the opening.
Kadsa screamed, biting back the pain of her body slamming into the hard wall. She rolled to a stop and laid there for a while, her mind numb as the pain worked its way through her body. When she gained control of her mind and body again, she was lying in a shallow pool of water. She pulled herself up, noticing the faint, blue glow reflecting in the water. Its illumination made it look like a pool with fluorescent bulbs.
Kadsa held her breath at the sight of the glare. Realization formed slowly in her mind. The light radiating in the pool came from her—not her necklace but her own body. She was radiating.
Breathe! She looked up to the passageway inside the wall from where she fell.
Her mind filled with cut and paste memories of what had happened at Tibesti cave. The crystal had broken her fall then. She studied herself again. Bennu had said the crystal drew from her own energy. Now the light emanated from her body. Maybe this was a side effect of putting the crystal to her eyes, but then again, it didn’t just enhance her vision, but entered and permeated through her whole body as well. Kadsa fisted her hands and felt a sting of electricity run through her upper body. It felt strangely good. When she reached for the crystal, she noticed a dot of light in its core. What a strange object. Now more than ever, she wondered where her grandfather might have gotten it.
The howling caught her attention. For the first time, she studied the space in which she found herself. It was another underground sanctuary.
The stone mouth of what appeared to be a shallow well sat in the center of the small dirt hovel. She moved toward it, taking note that the halo around her wasn’t going away. Other than a zap of electricity in her body, she felt completely normal.
Kadsa stared at the stone well, pretty certain the howling came from it. It stood barely four feet off the ground. She leaned over it, dipped her hand inside and gripped a small chunk of wood, pulling it out. A loud howl echoed from deep inside, and she staggered backward, dropping the object on the ground.
After catching her breath, she reached for the object and dashed it back into the hovel. But her mistake was made. The pit threw the idol back up. One then another. Chunks of wooden blocks rained out of its mouth. When it stopped, about twenty pieces were lying on the ground. She picked up one of them to analyze it. The wooden block was rectangular with crooked hands and bent knees. It had a grotesque face, wide-open mouth and bulging eyes. Each block was more of the same. The faces were ugly, distorted and exaggerated in their features. They looked identical, and the longer she studied them, the creepier and more sinister they appeared.
She should probably get out of here, wherever here was. A pinch of curiosity dragged her eyes to the stone well. Bennu said the Horned Lady was a goddess. Her curiosity quickly turned to anxiety. She might be desecrating the temple. Sacrilege. She needed to get out fast. Kadsa turned to leave but paused when she remembered why she came—to see an oracle. She didn’t think she was in the right place, but something lived in this hovel.
At the very least, she picked up two of the fetishes and tossed them back inside. She waited for something to happen, and when it didn’t, she began picking up the others and tossing them back inside. She was nearly done when she noticed that the bottom of the well had given way. She felt around the mouth but couldn’t feel the idols. She hadn’t realized it was that deep. The earth around her trembled like a sleeping giant stirred awake below it.
Oh, crap!
The pit yawned and groaned.
Kadsa steadily backed away from it, intent on running.
“Don’t be foolish, child,” spoke a masculine voice from the pit.
She paused. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I was just leaving.”
Another voice spoke in a foreign language she didn’t understand. There was more than one of them in there. What they were she couldn’t say.
“I’m sorry. I don’t speak that language.” Crackling. A howling belch.
Kadsa ran the moment a white mist burst from the bottom of the pit. The fast-moving mist twisted out and blocked her path. Kadsa raced from it but could not escape it. She fell to the ground and noticed she no longer radiated.
The mist wasn’t really a mist. It was some entity of blue light with specs of glitter. It twisted into a human-like figure—a creature of mist and light.
“I came here to see the oracle,” she declared. “Are you the oracle of knowledge—The Horned Lady?”
A crack of pressure sizzled out of the misty entity. Was it trying to speak? All she made out was hissing, whispering that grew and then a sharp scream that forced her to cover her ears.
“Kadsa,” said a female voice.
Kadsa pulled her hands from her ears and watched it. “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
The mist twisted and a horizontal slit crept across its makeshift face, forming a mouth.
“You don’t know what I am and yet you’ve come.” “I came for knowledge from the Horned Lady.”
“I am not the Horned Lady, but I am the knowledge you seek. Speak, stranger.” It was yet another voice, this time gender ambiguous.
“I came to ask for your help. I want to understand Maruti.”
The voice grumbled in a foreign language. “Please, I don’t understand.”
“I am the tongues of the world.”
“I came here to see the oracle, or the ancestors or something. Is that you?”
“I am the only entity here. I speak for the ancestors and the oracles. I am their voices. What do you want?”
“I just want to speak Maruti well.”
“Who sent you here? How did you find me?” “No one. I came by myself. I need help.” “Abnr. I see Abnr in your eyes, I see. Are you?”
“I am Abnr’s Gift,” Kadsa said, cringing. She hated saying that phrase but hoped it would spare her. “I have no genuine understanding of what that means.”
“It means you’re a thief. You stole knowledge from me. Knowledge you had no business stealing.” The thing swarmed her, wrapping tendrils around her throat, as if a rope.
“Please.” Kadsa fought through the chokehold. “You’re killing me.”
“I’m taking back the knowledge you stole from me.” “Please,” Kadsa begged, “I didn’t steal from you. I swear.”
The Mist wouldn’t let up while it suffocated the life out of her body.
“You’re here to steal more knowledge, is that your reason for coming?”
Kadsa fell to her knees and coughed, gasping for air. “I am looking for the oracle of Akonadi. Please, stop!” Kadsa yelled this last sentence out with all her strength, and for her effort, the mist pulled away from her, leaving her fighting to breathe. Kadsa didn’t understand why it had pulled away, but she could see its shape forming into a gel-like image of blue and white.
“You have one last chance to make your purpose clear.”
Kadsa swallowed, wetting her throat. “I only came to learn how to speak Maruti, so I can understand these people. I want to understand their language. That’s all. I swear it.”
“Do you lie to me, girl?”
“No, I swear it. They said you’d help me.”
“They?” hissed the mist. “Who’s they—who sent you here?”
“Bennu, I mean,” she stammered, swallowing the lump in her throat and getting to her feet. “He said this is where to find you.”
“Bennu,” said the mist, “the ancient one?”
Kadsa nodded and watched the shimmering thing before her eyes, waiting for it to decide.
“You’re a fallen star. You’ve traveled from far. You’ve come to understand the ways of this land.” It mimicked Bennu’s voice.
“Yes,” Kadsa said nodding. “Yes, I did. I want to help the people here. But I need to understand them, first.”
“To help. How can you help them, girl?” “To fight the darkness.”
“The Enchantment of Night,” declared the Mist’s symphonic voices. “The Night is long, forever and eternal. It cannot be defeated.”
“Yes, I know,” said Kadsa, remembering Bennu’s words. “I meant the witch in the forest. Help me understand Maruti, so I can help the people. Please!”
“The witch called Akwanshi?”
“Yes, that’s her.” Kadsa blinked with uncertainty. She didn’t know her name.
The creature shrieked disturbingly. It was cacophonous and painful to listen to. Kadsa covered her ears. The Mist spun violently, taking on a human form before her eyes. Soon it had molded itself into an image of a woman made of mist and light; she floated in slow motion above the open space. Kadsa stared in awe. How was this possible? Its blazing eyes studied her.
“You are impressed by this, child?” “What are you?”
“I am an old being that existed very long ago and no more.”
“The gods made you?”
“I am the collected wisdom and spirit of worlds,” she explained. “I am ancient. No one made me. I was here before your people.”
“The wisdom of worlds?” “Yes—worlds.” it answered. “What worlds?”
“Never you mind that,” it said. “All you need to know is that I know everything. So, don’t you think you can fool me. They fooled me once and once only. And that’s why I am down here, trapped.”
“I am not here to fool you. I want nothing to do with that.” When the oracle didn’t respond, she continued. “You can’t leave this place?”
“It’s best that I am here. It means I won’t be disturbed. My knowledge is protected. I have been here for thousands of years. What I know is protected and safe. I don’t move, but my knowledge grows still. That’s all that matters.”
“But you’re stuck here.” Kadsa watched the mist-figure. “You can’t leave.”
“I am to be released when the end is the beginning, and the beginning is the end.”
“What does that mean—the end of what—the world or Mehronur?”
“When the end is the beginning again.” Its words were dreamy. “The ones who trapped me will undo what they’ve done. For now, I am a slave to those words they uttered.”
“The gods trapped you here with their words?” “The priests of mystery did it,” snapped Misty. “I never understood the words they uttered. It was what confused me the most and led to my capture. Their ancient chants ensnared me where I roamed the skies, collecting my wisdom. They spoke a language I couldn’t understand, even while I am the keeper of all mortal knowledge.”
Kadsa watched this creature with confusion and some pity. How did this story fit into the greater mystery of Marut? Did it even? “Are you lonely here?”
“Kadsa, I am not human. Loneliness is a human sensibility.”
“But you seem to hate the witch. Hate is a human sensibility.”
“The witch,” said the female voice. “I do not hate her for me. The witch is cruel. I hear her many voices—the ones she has trapped in her web of power. They cry and shriek all the time. They are in pain. It is endless torment.”
“You can’t shut out her voices? That sounds like a nightmare.”
“It is the way it is for me. I hear everything, even cruelty.”
“Is the witch human? Why does she trap spirits?” “She once was human, a very long time ago. She is not as old as I am, but she knows many things. She understands nature, nearly as much as I do. But while I am a part of it, she steals from it, and she uses it to do unjust things. This is why mortals cannot be trusted with knowledge. This is why I am safer here. But you found me.”
“I’m really not trying to steal. I just need help with the language.” Kadsa studied the mist-figure, recognizing her moment to sell herself. “There are so many things I don’t know and understand about this place. But everyone expects me to help them. I can’t figure it out alone, especially if I can’t understand what they’re telling me. That’s why I came to you.”
Misty didn’t speak.
“Can you please help me learn the language, figure out what I am doing? How do I find the heart of the darkness? Where is it?”
“Bennu told you of me.” Kadsa nodded.
“I trust him. He’s as old as I am.”
The mist moved closer and Kadsa stilled. “You’ve come to save the kingdom of light. When the time is right and the night is bright, you will find those things that are in your mind.”
Misty brushed against her cheeks, sending a cold, thin thread of mist to her mouth. A tingling icy sensation ran down Kadsa’s throat, filling her head, making her a little dizzy. Her breathing shortened and grew shallow. Her eyes misted up, making it impossible to see.
“I can’t see. What did you do?” Kadsa cried in panic. She got angry and she squinted, trying to push against the cloud formed over her eyes. The Mist twirled away from her. Kadsa grabbed for it. From what she could make out and hear, it crawled back toward the mouth of the pit.
“Wait! Please!” Kadsa called. No answer.
Kadsa stumbled around part blind, angry, and scared. She blinked twice and slowly, the cloud Misty had pulled over her eyes clawed back, and her sight was restored to normal. She exhaled. She was alone in the hovel. A faint dull echo emanated from the pit, but there was no sign of Misty. Certain the gel-like creature wouldn’t return, Kadsa tossed the miniature statues back into the pit, watching them fill it up. Misty didn’t kill her, but she wasn’t sure what it had done to her. Aside from her burning eyes, she felt alright.
Kadsa returned to the cavity in the side of the dirt wall and retraced her previous journey. She moved straight ahead rather than turn back toward the room where she had first fallen. A very narrow passageway brought her to the end of a tunnel. Kadsa sat upright, dangling her feet over the dark mouth of the tunnel.
“Can’t keep doing this.” she muttered, taking a deep breath and pushing herself down the slide.
A wooden window or miniature door existed at the end of the tunnel. This was a good fixture in the otherwise enclosed tunnel. Kadsa crawled to the door and paused. A woman’s voice echoed from behind the window and she leaned in closer to peep. Through the creases, Kadsa spotted a young woman dressed in a crimson red robe. The color was astonishing with dreamlike shimmer.
“Priestess,” said Bokor, his imposing figure moving toward the slender woman, “Once again, do you understand what I am asking you to do?”
Kadsa caught her breath in her throat when she nearly burst into laughter. She understood everything he had said. Whatever magic Misty blew into her had worked. She focused on the big man again, leaning closer to eavesdrop on what he was saying.
“I told you all I know of these prophecies,” spoke the woman in red.
The priestesses Kadsa had met wore white. This woman looked very different. She had a clean-shaved head except for those parts that were carved into crop circle designs. Her lips blackened with lipstick, and her robe fitted her with a comfort that made Kadsa want to wear a dress, and she never wanted to wear dresses. Queen Oluchi had looked aghast when Kadsa began tying her dresses to resemble trousers.
“She has proven herself to be very suspicious.” “My readings—”
“—Can be off,” he spoke coldly. Bokor squashed whatever he had in his palm.
“High Priest,” said the mysterious woman, “Isaan is never wrong.”
“Your goddess was wrong about the girl.”
“Why did you come here?” She circled him. “Why do you favor sabotage?”
Bokor stepped forward and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Remember Priestess of Isaan, this is your fate, too.”
She pulled away from him. “We do not fear the darkness.”
“You are directly under my command.” “Isaan has no master–no god.”
“Your temple will be the first to bow if you choose not to worship.”
“There’s nothing Isaan cannot see. In this great darkness, you do not exist,” she said.
Bokor heaved, lifting his chest higher. Silence fell over the room.
“Bokor, your time at the temple is up,” said the woman coldly.
Bokor looked ready to protest. He edged closer to the unflinching woman. “Think very wisely about your fate,” he said and stormed out of the room.
The priestess stared after him and then exited the room soon after.
After they were gone, Kadsa fiddled with the door, eventually kicking it open. She crawled out of the dusty space, which was nothing but a low-built window in the room. No one would suspect it was anything more than a tiny, useless window. The room was small. It had one large table, wooden barrels, and wooden shelves. It was some sort of storage room. Kadsa skipped toward the exit that Bokor and the shaved-headed woman had used. She pressed her ears against the door. She could hear nothing, so she twisted the lock gently and pushed the door ajar.
The hallway was mostly empty, drenched in darkness. Kadsa wandered through the dungeon-like interior, finding herself in a spacious rotund room with burning red candles.
“Are you looking for the exit?”
“Yes,” said Kadsa, facing the woman warily.
The mystery speaker, wearing a billowing red robe, stood. She looked identical to the woman from the room with Bokor, even down to the multi-tiered rings around her long neck. Kadsa didn’t know if the women were the same.
“The temple has one exit. It is also an entrance. You were never invited inside.”
Kadsa was a little nervous. Something about this woman intimidated and intrigued her—brilliant crimson red robes, the dark lipstick, ringed neck, and the shaved head.
