TANIS SAT alone on the hill overlooking the village. The events of the morning still buzzed about in his mind. For the first time in his life, he’d actually seen the creature from the black forest, and the experience had been astounding. Exhilarating. Most surprising had been the song. This stunning creature was not the terrible black beast of his vivid imagination and stories.
He had saved Thomas. That was justification enough for his visit to the black forest. So then, it was a good thing he’d gone.
Tanis had stayed with Thomas for a short time before leaving. Oddly, he had no desire to be with the man when he awoke.
He’d returned and spent some time in the village. Rachelle had asked him if he’d run into Thomas, and he’d told her that he had, and that Thomas was sleeping.
He’d wandered around the village feeling very much in place and at peace. By midday, however, he felt as though he must go somewhere by himself to consider the events continuing to nag his mind. And so he had come here, to this hill overlooking the entire valley.
Tanis had gone to fetch the sword he’d thrown in the woods yesterday and found it missing. And not only that, but Thomas was also missing. He wasn’t sure why he’d concluded that Thomas had taken the sword to the Crossing—perhaps because this very thought was on his own mind—but after searching high and low for the man, he decided to make another sword and go in search at the Crossing.
What interested him most was the fact that Thomas had come from the black forest and lived to tell of it. Not just once, but twice.
The creature . . . now the creature had been something else altogether. He’d never imagined Teeleh as he appeared. Indeed, he hadn’t imagined that such a beautiful being could have existed in the black forest at all. Admittedly, he looked rather unique with those green eyes and golden fur. But the song . . .
Oh, what a song!
The fact of the matter was that Tanis wanted very much to meet this creature again. He had no desire to cross into the black forest and drink the water, of course. That would mean death. Worse yet, it was forbidden. But to meet the black creature at the river—that had not been forbidden.
And Thomas had done it.
Tanis glanced at the sun. He had been sitting on the hill, turning the events over in his mind, for over an hour now. If he were to leave now, he could reach the black forest and return without being missed again.
He stood shakily to his feet. The eagerness he felt was odd enough to cause a slight confusion. He couldn’t remember ever feeling such strange turmoil. For a moment he thought he should just return to the village and forget the creature at the black forest completely. But he quickly decided against it. After all, he wanted very much to understand this terrible enemy of his. Not to mention the song. To understand one’s enemy is to have power over him.
Yes, Tanis wanted this very much, and there was no reason not to do what he so greatly desired. Unless, of course, it went against the will of Elyon. But Elyon had not prohibited meeting new creatures, regardless of where they lived. Even across the river.
With one last look to the valley floor, Tanis turned his back and struck out for the black forest.
Thomas woke with a start. The sweet smell of grass filled his nostrils. He’d dreamed again. Bangkok. They were running ragged in Bangkok because they’d finally accepted the virus at face value. The Raison Strain now existed, if only in laboratories. He had to find Monique, but he had no idea how. And here—
He jerked up. Tanis?
He scrambled to his feet and looked around. “Tanis!”
The rush of the river drifted from the east. It was midafternoon. Tanis must have left him near the Crossing and returned to the village.
It took him an hour to reach the valley, fifteen minutes of that retracing his way north after missing the path that led to the village. He had to reach Tanis and explain himself. If ever the man was capable of confusion, it would be now. And the fact that Tanis had made himself another sword after their discussion only yesterday didn’t bode well for the man.
He was bitten with the bug. His curiosity was turning. His desire was outpacing his satisfaction. He’d gone to the Crossing because he was tired of not knowing.
Well, now he knew, all right. The only question was, How much knowledge would suffice? And for how long?
Of course, Thomas had gone across as well. But he was different; there could no longer be any question about that. He hadn’t taken any water, but according to Teeleh, he’d eaten the fruit before losing his memory, and he’d managed to survive. It was like a vaccine, perhaps.
No, that couldn’t be right. Still, Thomas was quite sure that he was different from Tanis. Maybe the people from his village far away had more liberties. But that made even less sense. Maybe he was from Bangkok. He might be from Bangkok when he was dreaming, but in reality he was from here. This was his home, and his dreams of Bangkok were wreaking havoc here.
He should eat the rhambutan fruit and rid himself of these silly dreams. They were meddling with a tenuous balance. If not for him, Tanis wouldn’t have gone to the black forest today.
“Thomas!”
A Roush swept in from his right.
“Michal!”
The Roush hit the ground hard, bounced once, and flapped furiously to keep from crashing.
“Michal?”
“Oh, dear, dear! Oh, my goodness!”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Tanis. I think he is headed for the black forest.”
“Tanis? The black forest?” Impossible! He’d just been to the black forest a few hours ago!
“He was headed straight for it when I left to find you. And he was running. How is that for being sure?” Michal hopped about nervously as though he had stepped on a hot coal.
“For the sake of Elyon, why didn’t you stop him?”
“Why didn’t I stop you? It’s not my place; that’s why! He’s mad! You’re both mad, I tell you. Just plain mad. Sometimes I wonder what the point was. You humans are just too unpredictable.”
Thomas tried to think clearly. “Just because he’s running in that direction doesn’t mean he’s going to enter the black forest.”
Michal’s eyes flashed. “We don’t have time to discuss this! Even if we go now, you could be too late. Please. Do you know what this could mean?”
“He can’t be that stupid,” Thomas said. He meant to reassure Michal, but he didn’t even believe himself.
Neither did Michal. “Please, we must go now.”
The Roush ran along the grass, flapping madly. Then he was in the air. Thomas sprinted to catch him.
An image of the boy at the upper lake filled his mind. That had been two days ago. What had come over them? He suddenly felt suffocated with panic.
“Elyon!” he breathed.
But Elyon had grown completely silent.
“Michal!” he yelled.
The Roush was preoccupied with his own thoughts. Thomas quick- ened his pace. There was no way he could let Tanis do anything even remotely so unreasonable as talk to Teeleh.
Not while he was alive.
The scene that greeted Tanis when he broke onto the banks of the river stopped him cold.
As far as he could see in either direction, black creatures with red eyes crowded the trees along the edge of the black forest like a dense, shifting black cloud. There had to be a million of them. Maybe many more.
His first thought was that Thomas had been right—there were far too many to easily dispatch with a few well-placed kicks.
His second was to run.
Tanis jumped back under the cover of the trees. He had never heard that so many other creatures shared their world. He held his breath and peered around a tree at the wondrous sight.
And then he saw the beautiful creature standing on the white bridge. The one he had seen at sunrise! The beast wore a bright yellow cloak and a wreath fashioned with white flowers around his head. He gnawed on a large fruit, the likes of which Tanis had never seen, and stared directly at him with glowing, green eyes.
Silence. All but the river was deathly silent. It was as if they had expected him. What a lovely creature Teeleh was.
He caught himself. These were the Shataiki. Vermin. They were meant to be beaten, not coddled. But, as the histories had so eloquently recorded, to defeat your enemy you must know him. He would speak to the big beautiful one only. And he would pretend to be a friend. In this way he would outwit the creature by learning his weaknesses, then return one day and be rid of him.
And he would do it holding the colored wood.
He grabbed a small green stick about the length of his arm and stepped out onto the bank.
“Greetings,” he called. “I am Tanis. By what name are you called?”
He knew, of course, but Tanis didn’t want to tip his hand. The beast tossed the half-eaten fruit behind him and rubbed the juice from his mouth with a hairy blue wing. He smiled with crooked yellow teeth. “I am Teeleh,” he said. “We have waited for you, my friend.”
Tanis glanced back at the colored forest. Well, then. Here was the creature he had come to meet. Tanis felt an uncommon flutter in his heart and stepped out to meet Teeleh, the leader of the Shataiki.
He stopped at the foot of the bridge and studied the creature. Of course! This was trickery! How could the leader of the Shataiki be different from his legions?
“You’re not what I expected,” he said.
“No? And what did you expect?”
“I had heard that you were quite clever. How clever is it to pretend you’re different than you really are when you know you’ll be found out?”
Teeleh chuckled. “You like that, don’t you?”
“I like what? Exposing you for what you are? Are you afraid to show me who you really are?”
“You like being clever,” Teeleh said. “It’s why you’ve come here. To be clever. To learn more. More knowledge. The truth.”
“Then show me the truth.”
“I intend to.”
Teeleh’s eyes turned first, from green to red. Then his wings and body, slowly to gray, then black. All the while his smile held true. Talons extended from his feet and dug into the wood. It was a shocking transformation, and Tanis gripped the colored stick tighter.
“Is that better?” The bat’s voice had changed to a low, guttural growl.
“No. It’s much worse. You’re the most hideous creature I could ever have imagined.”
“Ah, but I possess more knowledge and truth than you could ever have imagined as well. Would you like to hear?”
The invitation sounded suspect, but Tanis couldn’t think of an appropriate way to decline. How could he reject the truth?
Teeleh’s snout suddenly gaped wide, so that Tanis could see the back of his mouth, where his pink tongue disappeared into a dark throat. A low, rumbling note rolled out, followed immediately by a high, piercing one that seemed to reach into him and touch his spine. Teeleh’s song ravaged him with its strange chorus of terrible beauty. Powerful and conquering and intoxicating at once. Tanis felt an overwhelming compulsion to rush up the bridge, but he held firm.
Teeleh closed his mouth. The notes echoed, then fell silent. The bats in the forest peered at him without a stir. Tanis felt a little disorientated by all these new sensations.
“This is new to you?” Teeleh asked.
Tanis shifted the makeshift sword to his left hand. “Yes.”
“And do you know why it’s new?”
It was a good question. A trick? No, just a question.
“Are you afraid of me?” Teeleh asked. “You know that I can’t cross the bridge, yet you stand at the bottom in fear.”
“Why would I be afraid of what can’t harm me?”
No, that’s not entirely true. He can hurt me. I must be very careful.
“Then walk closer. You want to know more about me so that you can destroy me. So walk closer and see me clearly.”
How did the beast know this?
“Because I know far more than you do, my friend. And I can tell you how to know what I know. Come closer. You’re safe. You have the wood in your hand.”
Teeleh could have guessed his thoughts; they weren’t so unique. At any rate, he should show this beast that he was not afraid. What kind of warrior quivered at the bottom of the bridge? He walked up the white planks and stopped ten feet from Teeleh.
“You are braver than most,” the bat said, eying his colored sword.
“And I am not as dense as you think I am,” Tanis said. “I know that even now you’re trying your trickery.”
“If I use this . . . trickery and persuade you by it, wouldn’t that mean I am smarter than you?”
Tanis considered the logic. “Perhaps.”
“Then trickery is a form of knowledge. And knowledge is a form of truth. And you want more of it; otherwise, as I said, you wouldn’t be here. So if by using trickery I persuade you to accept my knowledge, it can only be because I am smarter than you. I have more truth.”
It was confounding, this logic of his.
“The reason my song is new to you, Tanis, is because Elyon doesn’t want you to hear it. And why? Because it will give you the same knowledge that I have. It will give you too much power. Power comes with the truth; you already know that.”
“Yes. But I won’t have you talking about Elyon like this.” Tanis jabbed his stick forward. “I should stick you through now and be done with this.”
“Go ahead. Try it.”
“I might, but I’m not here for battle. I’m here to learn the truth.”
“Well, then. I can show it to you.” Teeleh pulled a yellow fruit from behind his back. “There is in this fruit some knowledge. Power. Enough power to make all the creatures behind me cringe. Wouldn’t you like that? One word from you, and they will squeal in pain. Because they will know you have the truth, and with that truth comes great power. Here, try it.”
“No, I can’t eat your fruit.”
“Then you don’t want the truth?”
“Yes, but—”
“Is it forbidden to eat this fruit?”
“No.”
“Of course not. If there was harm in eating this fruit, Elyon would have forbidden it! But there is no harm, so it is not forbidden. There is only knowledge and power. Take it.”
Tanis glanced back at the colored forest. What the bat said was true. There was no harm in eating the fruit. There was no evil in it. It wasn’t forbidden.
“Just one bite,” Teeleh said. “If you find that what I’ve said isn’t true, then leave. But you owe it to yourself to at least try it. Hmm? Don’t you think?” The large beast made no effort to hide his talons, which tapped impatiently on the wood bridge.
Tanis looked past the large black bat and hesitated. “Well, you know I won’t drink any of your water.”
“Heavens no! Just the fruit. A gift of truth from me to you.”
Tanis held the colored stick firmly and stepped forward to take the fruit.
“Keep the wood to your side, if you don’t mind,” Teeleh said. “It is the color of deception, and it doesn’t sit well with my truth.”
Tanis stopped. “See, I already have the power. Why do I need yours?”
“Go ahead, wave it at my subjects and see how much power you have.”
Tanis glanced at the throngs behind Teeleh. He motioned at them with the sword, but none so much as flinched.
“You see? How can you compare your power to mine, unless you first know? Know your enemy. Know his fruit. Taste what Elyon himself has invited you to taste by not forbidding it. Just keep your stick at your side so that it doesn’t touch me.”
Tanis now wanted very much to try this mysterious yellow fruit in Teeleh’s claw. He lowered the sword to his side, ready to use it at a moment’s notice, stepped forward, and took the fruit. It felt daring, but he was a warrior, and to defeat this enemy he had to employ his own trickery.
He stepped back, just out of Teeleh’s reach, and bit into the fruit. Immediately his world swam in stunning color. Power surged through his blood, and his mind felt numb.
“Do you feel the power?”
“It’s . . . it’s quite strong,” Tanis said. He took another bite.
“Now, raise your hand and command my legions.”
Tanis looked at the black bats that lined the trees. “Now?”
“Yes. Use your new power.”
Tanis lifted an unsteady hand. Without a single word, the Shataiki began to shriek and turn away. The sound made him cringe. Terror swept through their ranks. This with a single outstretched arm.
“You see? Lower your arm before you destroy my army.”
Tanis lowered his arm.
“Can I take this fruit with me?”
“No. Please hand it back.”
Tanis did so, though somewhat reluctantly. The Shataiki continued their ruckus.
“Not to worry, my friend. I have another fruit. More truth. More power. This one will open your mind to the forbidden truth. That is the truth only the wise ones possess. You can’t command armies with power alone. You must have the mind to lead. This fruit will show it to you.”
Tanis knew he should leave, but there was no law forbidding even this.
“It’s the same fruit your friend Thomas ate,” Teeleh said.
Tanis looked up, shocked. “Thomas ate your fruit?”
“Of course. It’s why he’s so wise. And he knows the histories because he drank my water. Thomas has the knowledge.”
The revelation made Tanis dizzy. That was how Thomas knew the histories. He reached out his hand.
“No, for this fruit you must put your sword on the railing here, on my side of the bridge. I can’t touch it, of course. But you must hold this fruit with both hands.”
The bat’s reasoning sounded very strange, but then Tanis’s mind wasn’t entirely clear. As long as the sword was right there where he could grab it if needed, what harm would there be in setting it down? If anything, it put a greater barrier between him and the bat.
Tanis stepped forward and set the stick on the railing. Then he reached both hands for the fruit in Teeleh’s outstretched claw.
When they broke from the forest, Tanis already stood before the horrid beast, like a dumb sheep bleating to its butcher. Thomas skidded to a halt. Michal landed on a branch to his right.
“Michal!” Thomas rasped.
“We’re too late!” the Roush said. “Too late!”
“He’s still talking!”
“Tanis will decide.”
“What?”
Thomas turned back to the scene before him. Thomas stood frozen by the moment. He could barely hear his friend’s voice above the shrieking bats.
“This is the fruit that Thomas ate?” Tanis took the fruit from the grinning black beast with both hands.
Thomas released the tree he had gripped with white knuckles and leaped forward. No, Tanis! Don’t be such an utter fool. Throw it back at him!
He wanted to yell it, but his throat was frozen.
“It is indeed, my friend,” Teeleh said. “Thomas is a very wise man indeed.”
Half the Shataiki lining the trees now noticed him. They flew into a fit, pointing in panic, shrieks now earsplitting.
Thomas raced across the bank toward the arching bridge. “Tanis!”
But Tanis didn’t turn. Had he already eaten?
Tanis took one step backward, and Thomas was sure that he was about to fling the fruit back at the beast and leave him standing on the bridge’s crest. The man paused and said something too softly for Thomas to hear above the bats. He stared at the fruit in his hands.
“Tanis!” Thomas cried, rushing onto the bridge.
Tanis calmly brought the fruit to his mouth and bit deeply.
The throng of bats in the trees behind Teeleh suddenly fell silent. The wind whistled quietly and the river below murmured, but otherwise a terrible stillness swallowed the bridge.
“Tanis!”
Tanis whirled around. A stream of juice glistened on his chin. The fruit’s yellow flesh was lodged in his gaping mouth.
“Thomas. You’ve come!”
He closed his lips over the piece between his teeth and held the bitten fruit out toward Thomas. “Is this the same fruit you ate, Thomas? I must say, it is very good indeed.”
Thomas slid to a halt halfway up the arch. “Don’t be a fool, Tanis! It’s not too late. Drop it and come back.” He shook as he spoke. “Now! Drop it now!”
“Oh, it is you,” the beast behind Tanis sneered. “I thought I heard a voice. Don’t worry, Tanis, my friend. He would like to be the only one to eat my fruit, but you know too much now, don’t you? Has he told you about his spaceship?”
Tanis swiveled his head from Thomas to the beast and back again, as though unsure of what he was expected to do.
“Tanis, don’t listen to him. Get ahold of yourself!”
Tanis’s eyes seemed to float in their sockets. The fruit was taking its toll on the man.
“Thomas? What spaceship?” Tanis asked.
“He’s afraid to tell you the truth,” Teeleh snarled. “He drank the water!”
“It’s a lie!” Thomas said. “Do not cross the bridge. Drop the fruit.”
Tanis wasn’t listening. Yellow juice from the fruit trickled down his cheek, staining his tunic. He turned back to the beast and took another bite.
“Very powerful,” he said. “With this kind of power, I could defeat even you.”
“Yesssss.” The hideous bat grinned. “And we have something you cannot possibly imagine.”
He withdrew a leather pouch.
“Here, drink this. It will open your eyes to new worlds.”
Tanis looked at the bat, then at the pouch. Then he reached one hand for the pouch.
Teeleh turned, and in doing so he bumped into something Thomas hadn’t seen before. A stick resting on the railing. A dark stick that had lost its color. The wood slid off the railing and fell into the river.
Thomas whirled around. Michal was watching in silence. “Elyon!” Thomas screamed. Surely he would do something. He loved Tanis desperately. “Elyon!”
Nothing.
He spun back to the bridge. What was happening was happening because of him. In spite of him. He felt as powerless and as terrified as he could ever remember feeling.
Teeleh walked slowly, ever so slowly, favoring his right leg. Down the bridge to the opposite bank. “More knowledge than you can handle,” he said. “Isn’t that so, my friends?” he bellowed to the throngs lining the forest.
“Yesss . . . yessss,” rasped a sea of voices.
“Then bid our friend drink,” he cried out, stepping onto the opposite bank. “Bid him drink!”
“Drink, drink, drink, drink,” the Shataiki chanted slowly, in one throbbing, seductive tone. A song.
Thomas felt the hair on his neck stand on end. Tanis looked back at him, eyes glazed over, a grin twisting his face. He released a nervous chuckle.
Thomas’s mind began to swim in panic. Tanis was falling for it!
In final desperation, he lunged up the arch toward the intoxicated man. “Tanis, don’t. Don’t do it!” he cried over the bewitched song. “You have no idea what you’re doing!”
Tanis turned back to the chanting throng and took a step toward the opposite shore.
Images of Rachelle and little Johan flashed before Thomas’s eyes. This was not going to happen, not if he could help it.
He leaped forward, gripped the railing with his left arm, and flung his other arm around the man’s waist. Planting his feet hard, he jerked Tanis back, nearly pulling him from his feet.
With a snarl Tanis swung around and planted a kick on his chest. Thomas flew back and sat hard on the deck.
“No, Thomas! You are not the only one who can have this knowledge! Who are you to tell me what I must do?”
“It’s a lie, Tanis! I didn’t drink!”
“You’re lying! You’re dreaming of the histories. No one has ever dreamed of the histories.”
“Because I fell!”
A brief look of confusion crossed the firstborn’s face. He turned away with a tear in his eye, lifted the pouch to his lips, and poured the water into his mouth.
Then he walked over the bridge and stepped onto the parched earth beyond.
What happened next was a sight Thomas would never forget as long as he lived. The moment Tanis set foot on the ground next to the large black bat, a dozen smaller Shataiki stalked out to greet him. Thomas scrambled to his feet just as Tanis extended a hand in greeting to the nearest Shataiki. But instead of taking his hand, the Shataiki suddenly leaped from the ground and slashed angrily at the extended hand with his talons.
For a moment, time seemed to cease.
The pouch dropped from Tanis’s hand. His half-eaten fruit tumbled lazily to the ground. Tanis lowered his eyes to his hand just as the white walls of a deep gash began to fill with blood.
And then the first effects of his new world fell on the elder like a vicious, bloodthirsty beast.
Tanis screamed with pain.
Teeleh faced the black forest, standing tall and stately.
“Take him!” he said.
The groups of Shataiki who had greeted Tanis dived for him. Tanis threw his hands up in defense, but in his state of shock it was hopeless. Fangs punctured his neck and his spine; a wicked claw sliced at his face, severing most of it in one terrible swipe. Then Tanis disappeared in a mess of flailing black fur.
Teeleh raised his wings in victory and beckoned the waiting throngs that still clung to the trees. “Now!” he thundered above the sounds of the attack on Tanis. “Now! Did I not tell you?” He lifted his chin and howled in a voice so loud and so terrifying that it seemed to rip the sky itself open.
“Our time has come!”
A ground-shaking roar erupted from the horde of beasts. Above the cheer Thomas heard the leader’s throaty, guttural roar. “Destroy the land. Take what is ours!”
Teeleh swept his wings toward the colored forest.
Thomas watched, frozen by horror, as a massive black wall of bats took flight. The wall ran as far as he could see in either direction and seemed to move in slow motion for its sheer size. A dark shadow crept across the ground. It moved over the black forest, then up the bridge toward Thomas. The white wood cracked and turned gray along the forward edge of the shadow. The pungent odor of sulfur swarmed him.
Thomas whirled and ran just ahead of the shadow. He leaped off the bridge and hit the grass in a full sprint. Michal was gone!
“Michal!” he screamed.
He dared a quick glance back at the trees that marked the edge of the colored forest. The grass behind him was turning to black ash along the leading edge of the shadow, as if a long line of fire had been set ablaze beneath the earth and was incinerating the green life above it.
But he knew the death didn’t come from below. It came from the black bats above. And what would happen to his flesh when the shadow overtook him?
He screamed and pumped his legs in a blind panic, knowing full well that panic would only slow him down. “Elyon!”
Elyon wasn’t responding.
The shadow from the wall of black bats above reached him when he tore into the clearing just beyond the riverbank. He tensed in anticipation of the searing pain of burning flesh.
The burned grass under his feet crackled. The colored light from the trees on either side winked out, and the green canopy began crumbling in heaps of black ash. The air turned thick and difficult to breathe.
But his flesh didn’t burn.
The shadow moved on, just ahead of him. His strength began to fade.
The wall of bats was moving toward the village. No! It would reach them long before Thomas could sound any warning.
The animals and birds howled and shrieked in aimless circles of confusion.
Here in the shadow was death. Ahead, before the shadow, there was still life. The life of the colored forest. The life that allowed Tanis to execute incredible maneuvers in the air with superhuman strength. The life that had fed Thomas’s own strength over the previous days.
One last wedge of hope lodged stubbornly in Thomas’s mind. If only he could catch the shadow. Pass back into the life ahead of it. If only he could summon the last reserves of his strength from any fruit on the trees, from any life in the land.
If he could just stay ahead of the bats.
The fruit was falling from the charred trees and thudding to the ground like a slow hail. Thomas veered to his left, dipped down and grabbed a piece of fruit, and bit off a chunk of flesh. He swallowed without chewing.
Immediately, strength returned.
Clenching his hands around the fruit, he tore forward. Juice seeped around his knuckles. He shoved another bite in his mouth and swallowed and ran.
Slowly, very slowly, he gained ground on the shadow. Why the bats didn’t swoop down and chew him to pieces, he didn’t know. Perhaps in their eagerness to reach the village they ignored this one human below.
He sucked down two more chunks of fruit and chased the shadow for ten minutes in a full sprint before catching it. But now his panic had left him. The moment he passed in front of the canopy of bats, his strength surged.
He snatched a piece of unspoiled fruit and ripped off a huge bite.
Sweet, sweet release. Thomas shivered and sobbed. And he ran.
With a strength beyond himself, he ran, gaining on the shadow, on the approaching throng shrieking high above him. First fifty yards, then a hundred, then two hundred. Soon they were a massive black cloud well behind him.
From a hill he could see their approach with stunning clarity. From this vantage point he saw what was happening in a new light. The black forest was encroaching on the green in a long, endless line that blocked the sun and burned the land to a crisp.
He raced on, vision blurred with tears, screaming in rage.
The sky above the valley was empty when Thomas broke from the forest. It was, in fact, the only sign that there was anything at all askew. At any other time at least a dozen Roush would be floating in lazy circles above the village, or tumbling along the grass with the children. Now there wasn’t a single one to be seen. No Michal, no Gabil.
Below, the villagers went about peacefully, ignorantly. Children scampered between the huts, laughing in delight; mothers cuddled their young as they sang softly and stepped lightly in dance; fathers retold their tales of great exploits—all unaware of the approaching throng that would soon tear into them.
Thomas tore down the hill. “Oh, Elyon,” he pleaded. “Please, I beg you, give me a way.”
He ran into the village screaming at the top of his lungs. “Shataiki! They’re coming! Everyone grab something to defend yourselves!”
Johan and Rachelle skipped toward him with smiles on their faces, waving eagerly. “Thomas,” Rachelle called. “There you are.”
“Rachelle!” Thomas rushed up to her. “Quick, you have to protect yourself.” He glanced up the hill and saw the wall of bats above the crest. Thousands of the black creatures suddenly broke rank and poured into the valley.
It was too late. There was no way they could defend themselves. These weren’t the ghosts with phantom claws that they had learned how to combat with fancy aerial kicks. Like Tanis, they would be pummeled by the bloodthirsty beasts.
Thomas whirled around and grabbed both of their hands. “Come with me!” he demanded, sprinting down the path. “Hurry!”
“Look!” Johan yelled. He’d seen the coming Shataiki. Thomas glanced over and saw the boy’s wide eyes looking back at the beasts now descending on the village.
“The Thrall!” he cried. “The Thrall. Run!”
Rachelle sprinted by his side, face white. “Elyon!” she cried. “Elyon, save us!”
“Run!” Thomas yelled.
Johan kept wanting to turn around, forcing Thomas to repeatedly jerk him back down the path. “Faster! We have to get into the Thrall!”
Thomas urged them up the stairs, two at a time. Behind them, screams filled the village. “Don’t look back! Go, go, go!” He shoved them roughly through the doors and spun back.
No fewer than ten thousand of the beasts dived into the village, claws extended. The screams from the villagers were overwhelmed by a high-pitched shrieking from thousands of open Shataiki throats. Talons swiped like sickles; fangs gnashed ravenously in anticipation of meat.
To his right, a Shataiki descended on a young boy fleeing down the street. He fell to the ground, smothered by a dozen bats, who sank their talons into his soft flesh. The boy’s screams became one with the Shataiki’s shrieks.
Not ten paces from the boy, a woman flailed her arms wildly at two beasts who had attached themselves to her head and gnawed madly at her skull. The woman whirled about, screaming, and despite the blood covering her face, Thomas recognized her. Karyl.
Thomas groaned in shock. All around the village, the helpless fell easy prey to the bloodthirsty Shataiki.
And still they came. The sky was now black with a hundred thousand of the creatures, streaming over the hills into the valley. He knew it was this way in every village.
Thomas slammed the large doors shut, gasping. He threw the large bolt and turned to Rachelle and Johan, who stood on the green floor, holding each other’s hands innocently.
“What’s happening?” Rachelle asked in a trembling voice, her wide green eyes fixed on Thomas. “We have to fight back!”
Thomas ran across the floor and shut the rear doors that led to an outer entrance.
“Are these the only two entrances?” he demanded.
“What is—”
“Tell me!”
“Yes!”
No Shataiki could get into the Thrall without breaking down the doors. He turned back.
“Listen to me.” He paused to catch his wind. “I know this is going to sound strange, and you may not know what I’m talking about, but we’ve been attacked.”
“Attacked?” quipped Johan. “Really attacked?”
“Yes, really attacked,” he said. “The Shataiki have left the black forest.”
“That’s . . . that’s not possible!” Rachelle said.
“Yes, it is. Possible and real.”
Thomas walked over to the front doors and tested them. He could barely hear the sounds of the attack beyond the walls of the Thrall. Rachelle and Johan remained still, hand in hand, at the center of the jade floor where they had danced a thousand dances. They had no way to understand what was really happening outside. They had no idea how dramatically the colorful world they had known so well just a few moments ago had forever changed.
Thomas walked up to them and put his arms on their shoulders. And then the adrenaline that had rushed him through the forest and into this great hall evaporated. The full realization of the devastation racking the land beyond the Thrall’s heavy wooden doors descended upon him like ten tons of mortar. He hung his head and tried to remain strong.
Rachelle placed a hand on his hair and stroked it slowly. “It is all right, Thomas,” she said. “Don’t cry like this. Everything will be just fine. The Gathering is in a short time.”
Like a flood, despair swept through Thomas’s chest. They were doomed. He strained to maintain a semblance of control. How could Tanis have been deceived so easily? What a fool he’d been to even listen to the black beast! To even go near the black forest.
“Please, don’t cry,” Johan said. “Please, don’t cry, Thomas. Rachelle is right. Everything will be fine.”
An agonizing half hour crept by. Rachelle and Johan tried to ask him questions about their plight. “Where are the others? What will we do now? How long will we stay here? Where do these black creatures live?”
Each time, Thomas shrugged them off as he paced about the great room. The jade hall would become their coffin. If he did answer Rachelle or Johan, it was with a nondescript putoff. How could he explain this betrayal to them? He couldn’t. They would have to discover it themselves. For now, their only objective was to survive.
At first the Shataiki attacks on the outer Thrall came in waves, and at one point it sounded as though every last one of the dirty beasts had descended on the dome, beating and scratching furiously to gain entrance. But they could not.
An hour must have passed before Thomas noticed the change. They had sat in silence for a good ten minutes without an attack.
He stood shakily to his feet and crossed the floor to the front doors. Silence. The bats either had left or waited quietly on the roof outside, waiting to attack the moment the doors opened.
Thomas faced Rachelle and Johan, who still, after all this time, stood in the center of the green floor. It was time to tell them.
“Tanis drank the water,” he said simply.
They stiffened, mouths gaping. Together they dropped their heads, obviously unfamiliar with the new emotions of sorrow washing through them. They knew what this meant, of course. Not specifically, but in general they knew something very bad had happened. It was the first time anything bad had happened to either one of them.
Silently their shoulders began to shake, gently at first, but then with greater force until they could stand it no longer, and they threw their arms around each other and sobbed.
The sting of tears returned to Thomas’s eyes. How could such a tragedy have happened at all? For a long time they clung to each other and cried.
“What will we do? What will we do?” Rachelle asked a dozen times. “Can’t we go to the lake?”
“I don’t know,” Thomas responded quietly. “I think everything’s changed, Rachelle.”
Johan looked at Thomas with a tear-streaked face. “But why did Tanis do that when Elyon told us not to?”
“I don’t know, Johan,” Thomas said, taking the boy’s hand. “Don’t worry. Earth may have changed, but Elyon will never change. We just have to find him.”
Rachelle tilted her head back and raised her hands, palms up. “Elyon!” she cried. “Elyon, can you hear us?” Thomas looked on hopelessly. “Elyon, where are you?” Rachelle cried again.
She dropped her hands and looked despondently at Thomas and Johan. “It’s different,” she said.
He nodded. “Everything is different now.” He glanced up at the green-domed roof. Except for the Thrall. “We will wait until morning and then, if it seems safe, we will try to find Elyon.”