Tom stared into the black forest and began to shiver. There was no way he could enter that blackness again. He imagined red beady eyes lying in wait just beyond the black barrier. Or above. He slowly raised his eyes to the treetops across the river, but there was only darkness. He listened to the sound of the night, trying to filter out the river.
Was that a snicker?
Then he saw a lone dark shadow flee from the upper branches. He quickly pulled back into the colored forest's cover, his heart pounding in his ears. A Shataiki! But it had fled. Maybe it hadn't seen him.
He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He should leave this place. He should turn and run.
But he didn't . Couldn't .
He stood by the red tree for ten minutes, slowly gathering his courage. The river bubbled on, undisturbed. The forest stood black, unmoving beyond. Nothing changed. Slowly his fear gave way to resolve again.
Tom stepped from the forest and stood on the bank, washed in moonlight. No bats. Just the bridge to his left, the river, and the dead trees beyond. He took a few more steps, angling for the bridge. Still nothing changed. The river still rushed on, the trees behind him still glowed in oblivion, and the blackness ahead remained pitch dark.
Tom took a deep breath and walked quickly toward the bridge. He gripped the rail of the white structure, and for the first time it dawned on him that the wood of the bridge, unlike any wood he had seen outside the black forest, did not glow. It had been constructed by the Shataiki, then? He paused and looked again at the black trees looming taller now. He should call out from here. What he should yell, he didn't know. Hello? Or maybe . . .
A speck of red suddenly flickered in the corner of his right eye. Tom jerked his head toward the light. He saw them clearly now, the dancing red eyes just beyond the tree line across the river. He tightened his grip on the rail and caught his breath.
Another flicker of red off to his left made him turn his head, and he saw a dozen Shataiki step out of the forest and stop, facing the river. And then, as Tom watched with terror, a thousand sets of red gleaming eyes materialized, emerging from their hiding places.
Tom told himself to turn and run, but his feet felt rooted to the earth. He watched with dread as the Shataiki poured silently out of the forest, creating a line as far as he could see in either direction. The creatures squatted like sentinels along the tree line, gazing at him with blank red eyes set like jewels on either side of their long black snouts. And then the treetops began filling as well, as if a hundred thousand Shataiki had been called to witness a great spectacle, and the black trees were their bleachers.
Tom's legs began to shake. The pungent smell of sulfur filled his nostrils, and he checked his breathing. This whole thing was a terrible mistake. He had to get back to the colored forest.
The wall of Shataiki directly ahead of him suddenly parted. Tom watched as a single Shataiki walked toward the bridge, dragging brilliant blue wings on the barren earth behind him. This one stood taller than a man, much larger than the rest. Its torso was gold and pulsed with tinges of red. Stunning. Beautiful. The night air filled with the clucks and clicks of a hundred thousand bats as the huge Shataiki slogged toward the crossing. It moved slowly. Very slowly, favoring its right leg.
Tom watched without moving. The beast's green eyes were set deep into its triangular face, fixed on Tom. Pupil-less, glowing saucers of green. Frightening and yet oddly comforting. Luring. Tom could hear the scraping of its talons along aged planks, the whisper of its huge wings, as it slowly ascended the bridge. The Shataiki made its way to the center and stopped.
He raised one wing slightly and the throngs behind him fell silent.
Somewhere in the back of Tom's paralyzed mind, a voice began to reassure him that this Shataiki could certainly mean no harm. No creature so beautiful could harm him. He had come to talk. Why else would he have come out to the center of the bridge? According to the Roush, no Shataiki could cross the bridge.
“Come.” The Shataiki sang as much as spoke. Hardly more than a whisper.
The leader was telling him to come. And why should he give that suggestion any mind? He could speak from here just as easily as from up there.
“Come,” the leader repeated.
This time, the Shataiki opened his mouth. Tom saw its pink tongue. As long as he stayed on this side of the bridge and out of the creature's reach, he would be safe. Right?
Tom stepped cautiously onto the bridge. The Shataiki made no move, so Tom stepped up the Crossing toward the beast. He stopped five meters from the Shataiki and looked directly into his eyes. They glistened like giant emeralds in the moonlight. A chill ran down Tom's spine. He had to be the one called Teeleh. But he wasn't what Tom had expected.
The creature let his shoulders droop and turned his head slightly. He retracted his talons and allowed a gentle smile to form on his snout.
“Welcome, my friend. I had hoped you would come.” Now he spoke plainly,
in a low voice without a hint of music. “I know this may all seem a little overpowering to you. But please, ignore them. They are imbeciles who have no mind.”
“Who?” Tom said. But it came out like a grunt so he said it again. “Who?”
“The sick, demented creatures behind me.” The beautiful bat withdrew a red fruit from behind his back and offered it to Tom. “Here, my friend, have a fruit.”
Tom looked at the fruit, too terrified to move any closer to the beast, much less reach out to take something from it.
“But of course. You are still frightened, aren't you? Pity. It is one of our best.” The Shataiki raised the fruit to his lips without removing his eyes from Tom and bit deeply into its flesh. A stream of juice dribbled through his furry chin and spotted the planks at his feet. “Possibly our very best. Certainly the most powerful.” He smacked his lips. He lifted his chin to swallow the fruit and tucked the uneaten portion behind his back again.
He withdrew a small pouch. “Are you thirsty?”
“No, thanks.”
“Not thirsty. I understand. We'll have plenty of time for eating and drinking later, won't we?”
Tom began to relax a little. “I didn't come to eat or drink.” Was it possible Teeleh could be a friend to him? The creature certainly disapproved of the other black bats. “How did you know I was coming?”
“I have powers you can't imagine, my friend. To know you were coming was nothing. I have legions at my disposal. Do you think I don't know who comes and who goes? I think you underestimate me.”
“If you have such power, then why do you live in the black trees instead of in the colored forest?” Tom asked, looking past the beast at the throngs milling in the trees across the river.
“The colored forest, you call it? And who in their right mind would want to live in the colored forest? You think their fruit can compare with my fruit? No. Is their water any sweeter than ours? Less. They are nothing but slaves.”
Tom shifted on his feet. There was only one rule here. No matter what happened, he could never drink the water. As long as he followed that simple standard, he would be perfectly safe.
“What is that in your pocket?” the bat suddenly demanded.
Tom reached into his pocket and withdrew the small glowing carving that Johan had handed him in the village.
Teeleh recoiled. “Throw it over the side. Throw it over!”
Tom reacted without thought. He tossed the red lion over the edge of the bridge and gripped the rail to steady himself.
Slowly Teeleh lowered his arm and stared at Tom with his wide, green eyes.
“It is poison to us,” the beast said.
“I didn't know.”
“Of course not. They have deceived you.”
Tom let the statement go. “What do they call you?” he asked.
“What does who call me?” the beast asked.
“Them.” Tom nodded at the bats.
The Shataiki raised his chin. “I am called Teeleh.”
“Teeleh.” He'd expected nothing else. “You're the leader of the Shataiki.”
“Foolish minds may call what they do not know whatever they wish. But I am the ruler of a thousand legions of subjects in a land full of mystery and power. This they call the black forest.” The black bat swung a huge wing toward the forest behind him. “But I call it my kingdom. Which is why I've come to speak to you. To set your mind free. There are some things you should know.”
Tom could hardly ignore the obvious fact that the creature wanted something from him. This show of power couldn't be arbitrary. But he had no intention of giving them anything. He'd come for one purpose only, to gather some information about the histories.
Despite his confusion over the true nature of this creature, Thomas couldn't allow Teeleh to gain the upper hand.
“And there are some things that you should know as well,” Tom said. “It's forbidden for me to drink your water, and I have no intention of doing it. Please don't waste your time.”
Teeleh's eyes brightened. “Forbidden, you say? Who can forbid another man to do anything? No, my friend. No one is forbidden unless he chooses to be forbidden.” The Shataiki spoke fluidly, as though he'd argued the subject a thousand times. “What better way to keep someone from experiencing my power than to say he will suffer if he drinks the water? Lies. Surely you, more than the rest, should know that such small-minded talk only locks people in cages of stupidity. They follow a god who demands their allegiance and robs them of their freedom. Forbidden? Who has the right to forbid?”
The reasoning was compelling. But it had to be fast talk. Tom chose his next words carefully. “I also know that if even one of us drinks your water, the whole land will be turned over to those sick, demented creatures, as you call them, and we will become your slaves.”
The air suddenly filled with angry snarls of outrage from the army of Shataiki in the trees. Startled by the outcry, Tom retreated a step.
“Silence!” Teeleh thundered. His voice echoed with such force that Tom instinctively ducked.
The beast dipped its head. “Forgive them, my friend. I don't think you would blame them if you knew what they have been through. When you have lived through deception and tyranny and you survive, you tend to overreact to the slightest reminder of that tyranny. And believe me, those behind me have faced the greatest form of deception and abuse known to living souls.” He paused and twitched his head as though he were trying to loosen a stiff neck.
In many ways the Shataiki's actions
were
consistent with creatures who'd been abused and imprisoned. Tom felt a sliver of pity run through his heart. For such a beautiful creature as Teeleh to be imprisoned in the black forest seemed unjust.
“Now come,” Teeleh said. “You must surely know that the myths you speak of are designed to deceive the people of the colored forestâ to control their allegiance. You think you know, but what You've been told is the greatest kind of deception. And I've come to make that clear to you.”
Did Teeleh know that he'd lost his memory?
“Why did you try to kill me?” he asked.
“I would never do such a thing.”
“I was in your forest and barely got out alive. If I hadn't made the Crossing when I did, I would be dead now.”
“But you didn't have my protection,” the beast said. “They mistook you for one of them.”
“Them?”
“Surely you don't actually believe that you're one of them, do you? How quaint. And clever, I might add. They're actually using your memory loss against you, aren't they? Typical. Always deceiving.”
So he did know about the memory loss. What else did he know?
“How did you know about the memory loss?” Tom asked.
“Bill told me,” the creature said. “You do remember Bill, don't you?”
“Bill?”
“Yes, Bill. The redhead who came here with you.”
Tom took a step back. The creature before him shifted out of focus. “Bill is
real?”
“Of course he's real. You're real. If you're real, then Bill's real. You both came from the same place.”
Tom couldn't mistake
the sense that he was standing at the edge of a whole new world of understanding. He'd come with a few questions about the histories, and yet before asking those questions, a hundred others had been deposited in his mind.
He glanced back at the colored forest. What did he really know? Only what the others had told him. Nothing more. Was it possible that he had it all wrong?
His heart thumped in his chest. The air suddenly felt too thick to breathe. Easy. Easy, Tom. He couldn't reveal his ignorance.
“Okay, so you know about Bill. Tell me about him. Tell me where we came from.”
“You still don't remember?”
He eyed the bat circumspectly. “I remember some things. But I'll keep those to myself. You tell me what you know, and we'll see if that matches what I remember. Say the wrong thing, and I'll know you're lying.”
The smile faded from Teeleh's lips. “You came from Earth.”
“Earth. This is Earth. Be more specific.”
Teeleh regarded him with a long stare. “You really don't know, do you? You're a sharp one, I'll give you that, but you just don't know.”
“Don't be so sure,” Tom said, careful to keep anxiety out of his voice.
“Don't be so sure that you're sharp? Or that you know?”
“Just tell me.”
“You and your copilot, Bill, crashed less than a mile behind me,” Teeleh said. “Which is why I'm here. I think I've found a way back.”
It was all Tom could do to hide his incredulity. What a preposterous suggestion! It actually eased his tension. If Teeleh was stupid enough to think he'd fall for such a ridiculous fabrication, he was much less an opponent than Michal had suggested. Hopefully the bat still knew the histories.