Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen (55 page)

At length they came to a T-shaped intersection. A small monk with a shaved head calmly swept the end of a wooden bridge that spanned an underground river. As they approached him, they felt an ominous sensation as they looked out across the river. There was no other bank, at least that they could see. The bridge simply faded into the darkness beyond as if it ceased to exist. Even when Hanner shone his lamp into the darkness beyond, nothing new was revealed, as if the light were being consumed somehow.

“Waytaishi ua, shikzu kesasa o’ motoi maeru kenkyo na’ tabi bitodesu Kohta,” Athel announced to the monk.

The man’s eyes grew wide with surprise. His eyes flickered towards the bridge. For a moment they all wondered if he might make a run for it. But, he straightened his robes and bowed to them.

“My name is Gomtah,” he said in a thickly accented common. “I will be happy to be your guide into stillness.”

Gomtah turned and walked onto the bridge, disappearing into the darkness. The others looked at each other apprehensively, then followed him.

As they crossed the bridge, the mist seemed to give way before them, and gather again behind them. Only a few steps in, and they could no longer see where they had come from. The bridge seemed to go on forever. It felt like the world only partially existed here. There was the rumbling clear water beneath them, the solid bridge, but beyond that, there was nothing. No cave walls, no dripping water from above. It was a little disconcerting, so they made conversation to distract themselves.

“I’m kind of surprised you'd allow foreigners in here,” Captain Evere commented. “The city above didn’t exactly roll out a red carpet for us, if you know what I mean.”

“My order has few ties with the city above, and they rarely come here anymore,” Gomtah explained. “Our policy is that the worship of Kotah does not belong to any one race. The path of light belongs to us all.”

“I must admit, I find your policy unusual,” Athel admitted. “Refreshing, but unusual.”

Gomtah stopped at a point on the bridge where a small stone receptacle stood at the center. When Athel glanced inside, it contained several coins.

“What is this, a donation box?” Hanner asked, peering inside.

“This is Uladhi, the well of greed, you must strip yourselves of wealth before you may proceed,” Gomtah explained.

“We get it back at the end, right?” Ryin questioned.

Gomtah paused. “If you plan to take up your greed again, then why lay it down?”

Athel emptied her pockets and followed Goomtah. Reluctantly, the others followed her example. When Ryin tried to pass, there was a flash of light and he was thrown backwards. They could now see that there was a wall of manoi that had been invisible to them before. It stretched out in all directions as it disappeared into the mist. Hard angles of energy criss-crossed its surface like a hedge maze.

“Looks like they take this stuff pretty seriously around here,” Ryin groaned as he came to his feet. He tapped the wall a couple of times with his finger. “I guess I'll have to wait here for you guys.”

Ryin sat down and pulled out his playing cards as the others proceeded. Soon he was gone as the mist gathered behind them.

The next receptacle contained a few pocket knives.

“This is Aniputo, the well of aggression, you must strip yourselves of your weapons before you may proceed.”

Gomtah watched in smothered shock as swords, rifles, a staff, sabers, musketoons, cutlass, and blunderbuss, filled the receptacle to brimming. With no more room, the final few weapons had to be leaned up against it.

“Just what were you planning on doing with those?” Gomtah asked in amazement.

“Don’t really see the point in all this,” Hanner grumbled as he set down his volley-gun. “In a pinch, anything can be used as a weapon. Even the most innocent thing. A chair, a stick, even a rock.”

“The point is not to lay down your weapons, but your intent to use them,” Gomtah explained.

As they walked forward, another wall of manoi flashed to life, and Hanner was barred from proceeding.

“Buncha racist swill if you ask me,” Hanner groused as he leaned up against the railing and pulled out a rib-bone to chew on. “We Iberians consider aggression to be the highest virtue, you know?”

Again they pressed on, and Hanner was gone.

The next receptacle was empty except for a small sharpened stone and a saucer containing a few drops of blood.

“This is Nahatoi, the well of anger. If any of you have unkind feelings towards each other, they must be left behind before you may proceed.”

Everyone turned to glare at Setsuna.

“Why is everyone looking at me?” She asked sweetly.

Athel took the stone and made a small cut on her thumb, allowing a drop of amber-colored blood to drip down into the saucer. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward along with Gomtah.

Captain Evere and Mina looked at each other apprehensively. Their marriage had been rocky for some time, and while they had made progress, the thought that some smoldering ember of anger remained and was about to be exposed in front of everybody was obviously disconcerting to them.

Mina reached out for the stone, but Captain Evere caught her hand and held it tightly.

“We'll go together, woman,” he said.

Mina nodded, her lavender eyes fearful, but loyal.

Holding hands, Captain Evere and Mina closed their eyes and stepped forward through the invisible wall and were not denied. They opened their eyes, first in surprise, then in relief. They embraced each other warmly, and whispered reassuringly to one another.

The others passed through, then turned around. Privet had not followed them.

“Do you not wish to proceed?” Gomtah asked.

“Look, I don’t need any mystical wall to tell me what is in my heart,” Privet admitted. “I've still got a lot of things to work out. I know that. In the meantime, I'll stay back here and keep a lookout for you guys.”

Athel was visibly impressed.
He acknowledges his shortcomings without any shame. He really is so different now.

Gomtah nodded appreciatively. “The first step towards purity is to honestly recognize the impurity within you,” he said.

Without thinking about it, Athel reached over and took Alder’s hand. Their courtship had some thorns, to be sure. There were many unkind things she had said and done to him, and yet here was proof that he had forgiven her in his heart, and stood by her even now. Athel hoped that one day, she could forgive herself as well.

Setsuna touched the tip of her finger to her green painted lips and blew a kiss out to Privet through the wall. “Don’t worry, honey, I'll go in there and bring back what we came for. This is my chance to show you how reliable a wife I can be. You can count on me.”

Gomtah stopped at the final receptacle. It sat on solid ground at the far end of the bridge although nothing was visible beyond. It overflowed with pure spring water.

“This is Jnabra, the well of lust. Before we can be filled with peace, we must first empty ourselves from all physical cravings.”

“Oh, come on!” Setsuna protested, her fists clenched.

“This is the price we pay for spiritual enlightenment,” Gomtah admonished. “Our policy is very clear on this matter.”

“It’s all grub-spit, that’s what it is,” Setsuna yelled. “People...want things. You can’t just turn it off like a switch!”

“If you will not, then you may not pass.”

Athel placed her hand over her heart and held Alder’s hand tightly. She hadn’t done something like this in a while now. She went back to her training, allowing all of her needs to flow out of her, becoming like a blank pane of glass. It was an important step before fully linking with the trees, so as not to pollute the energy of the forest. Athel was surprised at how effortless it was, despite the length of time since she had last tried it. She felt herself becoming washed of everything, until only one thing remained, the one she clung to the tightest of all. It felt like a little light she held in her heart, a glowing firefly in her hand; a warm, swallowed secret.

I really do want to protect my forest.

Athel and Alder stepped forward past the edge of the bridge and onto the temple grounds. Captain Evere and Mina stepped alongside them.

There was a flash and a thud, and they all looked back to see Setsuna fallen on her rump. “Well, yeah, see, I think we all knew that one was coming, so no surprises there,” she complained as she crossed her arms and legs.

Gomtah stepped aside and welcomed them in his native tongue, revealing the temple beyond the plaza.

The temple itself was a simple structure made from crafted softwoods, painted white to catch the glow of the bioluminescent mushrooms. It was a two-tiered structure with a dome on top like a crown. A natural spring bubbled up to the surface of a stone well at the center of the plaza, then cascaded down several steps, flowing into the small underground river that passed in front of the temple. It felt as if this place did not belong in this world, but was instead a glimpse of the spirit realm that lay beyond this one.

Only tranquility existed here. In many ways, it reminded Athel of what it felt like to commune with the trees. A drawn out serenity that seemed to extend out behind and before you, without beginning and without end. All cares from the outside world seemed to fade away, becoming quieter and quieter until at last, your mind and heart became so tranquil that you could finally hear it. Something that was always there, but never noticed because it was previously overpowered by the noise from everything else. A calm feeling, almost like a drawn-out note. It was the happiness of simply being alive.

Alder leaned his head on Athel’s shoulder, his eyes peacefully closed.

He’s never linked with the trees, so this must be a little overwhelming for him.

Captain Evere tapped Athel on the shoulder and pointed to some little alcoves beyond the temple. There, growing in little clumps and clusters, were the mushrooms they had come for. They were different than the others they had seen. These were round and smooth, with the faintest green hue. They gave off no light, and grew only out of the exposed veins of a strange, silvery ore.

The entrance to each alcove was sealed by a powerfully thick wall of manoi. Athel watched as one of the monks walked up to the wall, then walked through it. The manoi gave way to him like the surface of a soap bubble, then wrapped around him, creating a skin-tight layer that he wore as he entered the alcove and set down a basket next to the mushrooms. With the greatest of care, he shaved a few layers off the surface of the mushrooms, his touch no heavier than that of a feather. He then placed the shavings in the basket and passed back through the manoi wall, leaving his protective layer behind him.

I guess that just goes to show how dangerous these things really are.

Mina seemed enthralled by the rows of monks, sitting silently in rows throughout the plaza, their hands crossed against their chests, their knees extended out so that the soles of their feet were pressed together.

“What are they doing?” Mina asked, fascinated, her long tail swishing about.

Alder looked at them and his eyes widened in comprehension. “They are learning to be still.”

“Why would you need to practice that?”

“Before you can learn to move, you must first learn how to be still,” came an old and patient voice. The man’s robes were simple. His long hair fell behind him, his long beard hung down in front of him. The beard and hair kind of blurred together and masked his shoulders, giving him a strange, rather conical silhouette.

“My name is Opinfre,” he introduced himself. “I am the high priest of this temple.”

“My name is Athel Forsythia, and I have come in great need. I wish to procure a sample of your Shikyappu mushrooms in order to save my forest.”

“Shikki-what?” Mina asked.

“DeathCap, in the common tongue,” Gomtah clarified.

Opinfre was visibly disturbed at the request. “Those are sacred to us. Our policies prohibit any outsider from taking them.”

Athel held up her hands, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible to the little man barely half her height. “I know that, but I am a Treesinger, I don’t need to take one from you. Just give me access and I can grow some for myself.”

Opinfre took half a step back, his eyes darting about. “Please understand, we use these mushrooms as medicinal herbs to aid in meditation. In the right hands, they have powerful curative powers, however, they are also extremely dangerous. If the spores are accidentally inhaled...”

“It will kill you?” Mina asked, covering her mouth with her hands.

“No, but you will wish you were dead,” Gomtah clarified.

“That’s why it’s perfect,” Athel praised.

Opinfre turned his head. “Perfect?”

“Oh, uh, the curative powers, I mean.”

“Well, I am sorry, but it is made available only to those of my order. That is our policy.”

Athel thought for a moment as she gazed out at the monks harvesting the mushrooms. They were so close, just a few dozen feet away, yet so far. “I don’t suppose it would help if I offered to join your order?”

Opinfre tapped his foot. “I could start the paperwork, of course, but given the circumstances, I would find it difficult to believe your sincerity.”

“Well, there must be a way to resolve this amicably,” Athel suggested.

“We have a zero-tolerance policy towards...”

“You know, I’m getting a little tired of hearing the word ‘policy’ from you guys,” Captain Evere grumbled.

“You didn’t mind when it suited your purposes,” Gomtah retorted.

Athel knelt down on one knee, so she could look Opinfre level in the eyes. “Lives are at stake here, there must be a way.”

Opinfre crossed his arms. “I’d really rather not debate this with you.”

“Well, I wish you would,” Captain Evere complained, “because that is what real people do, they don’t just swallow and bark out policies. They use their reason, their judgment, their sense of right and wrong. Exceptions can be made.”

There was a flash of light and a wall of manoi appeared between them and the monks. “I’m afraid Kohta does not allow for exceptions.”