Dormia (27 page)

He looked at Spack and sighed. "The Wanderers must have died to protect us," he said softly. "Now that I remember, it seems like it happened just yesterday."

"Just like me," said Spack. "And now we're both going home..."

Hill turned away from the group and stared into the darkness that surrounded them. No one spoke for a very long time. The only sounds came from the yelps of the huskies as they continued to chew on the bones that Hill had fed them for dinner. A cold wind gusted down from the mountains. Everyone shivered. Finally, Spack broke the silence by directing a question at Alfonso.

"You seem awfully young to be a Great Sleeper," said Spack. "Have you found your weapon yet?"

"Alfonso is too young for weapons," interjected Hill.

"Every Great Sleeper has a unique weapon that he or she masters," replied Spack. "You know, like an Egyptian dagger, or a Japanese
masakari,
or a Chinese meteor hammer, or some kind of magical boomerang. All our history books talk about it ... You do have one—right?"

"Not exactly," said Alfonso.

"Oh," said Spack with an embarrassed smile. "Well, er, I'm sure you'll find one soon enough. Of course, maybe you're just too young—"

Bilblox interrupted. "You never answered the question," he said. "Why are we such a bunch of fools, and how is it that we haven't escaped? Do you see anyone around us?"

Spack shook her head and then asked, "This fellow you mention by the name of Kiril. Was he, by chance, wearing a ring with the Dragoonya seal on it?"

Alfonso nodded.

"And his eyes were white—suggesting that he has used Dormian ash—and yet it appears that he can see perfectly well, correct?"

Alfonso nodded again.

"Just as I thought," said Spack confidently. "He is a Dormian traitor! Only a Dormian can take the ash and not go blind. Most likely he was a Wanderer whom Nartam corrupted. He has been doing this for the last two thousand years."

"Then why would he help us?" asked Alfonso. "Why would he fight off those Dragoonya soldiers back in Barsh-yin-Binder?"

"It was a ruse," said Spack with a disgusted sigh. "This man isn't helping you—he's following you! He wants you to lead him all the way to Somnos. This is how it works with the Dragoonya. They follow the Great Sleeper back to the city's gates and then—
whammo!
—they sack the city. This is why you cannot be followed! Or perhaps I should say that this is why
we
cannot be followed. Whatever we do, we must be absolutely sure that no one is on our tail. If we lead Nartam back to the gates of Somnos, we will have failed, and the last city of Dormia will be lost. It would be better to destroy the bloom than to allow Nartam in."

Alfonso looked at Resuza. She had been sitting there, looking confused, and finally she spoke. "Wait just a minute," she said. "You're trying to deliver a magical plant to some hidden kingdom in the Urals
and
you're afraid of being followed by a two-thousand-year-old man and his henchman?"

Alfonso, Hill, Bilblox, and Spack all nodded.

"A great secret has been revealed to you," Spack said to Resuza. "I don't know why you and your hulking friend Bilblox have come along—since both of you clearly are not Dormians. And I find it highly suspicious that Bilblox's eyes are white. Highly suspicious indeed! Rest assured, I'll be keeping a close eye on both of you."

Spack turned to Alfonso. "In any case, do you get it now?" she asked pointedly. "Nartam and Kiril never had any desire to capture you, or kill you, or even take your plant. That's why they let you go. They
want
you to find Somnos."

In the silence that followed, Alfonso glanced around and peered into the darkness that surrounded their little campsite. He thought he heard a twig snap, but maybe it was just the fire. A ripple of goose bumps fluttered up his neck.
Was Kiril out there, standing in the gloom, waiting for him?
Alfonso searched the darkness for any sign of Kiril's ghostly white eyes. He saw nothing. After a while, he returned his attention back to the group. As he did, an old suspicion returned.
Could he trust his group? After all, how well did he know them?
Alfonso had just met Resuza and Spack. He really didn't know them at all. And even Hill and Bilblox, both of whom he had come to trust, were not exactly lifelong friends.
Was someone in the group a traitor?
It was an awful thought. Alfonso felt ashamed for even thinking it. And yet, he couldn't stop himself. Although he was brought up to think the best of people, World's End, Minnesota, was far away. Lars's words came back to him:
trust no one.

Bilblox interrupted Alfonso's thoughts. "So how do we shake these Dragoonya?" he asked Spack. "They probably know this area better than we do."

"Don't worry about that," Spack replied. "In order to get to Somnos, we have to pass through a terrible place called Straszydlo Forest. As your guide, and as an honorary member of the Order of Wanderers, I can assure you that no Dragoonya army would ever, ever, ever enter that place."

"Why's that?" Bilblox asked.

"Well, there's a very good reason for that...," said Spack. Her voice tapered off into a whisper. "Because, well, er..." She looked embarrassed. "Sorry. I can't quite remember exactly why. All I know is that no one in their right mind steps foot inside that forest—unless they want to die a miserable death, in which case, walking into that forest is precisely what they should do."

"But we have to cross that forest," said Alfonso.

"Yes," muttered Spack to herself. "That is rather problematic, isn't it?"

"Why can't you remember what's in the forest?" asked Resuza. "Aren't you supposed to be our guide?"

"That's the problem with being a tired Dormian," said Spack with a heavy sigh. "We sleep so deeply that we often miss out on some rather important details."

T
HE WHISTLING
of the wind awoke Alfonso sometime in the middle of the night. It was bitterly cold and he sat up stiffly to see if there was anything else he could use to cover himself and provide a bit of extra warmth. He looked around. A crescent moon hung in the sky. Out of the corner of his eye, Alfonso noticed the faint outline of a man standing twenty feet off in the distance. At first, Alfonso thought it might be Hill—or even Bilblox—but this figure had two long swords slung along his belt, and Alfonso knew immediately that he was staring at Kiril. Alfonso felt oddly calm as he rose to his feet and walked carefully toward Kiril.

"Why are you following us?" asked Alfonso.

"If you were capable of taking care of yourself it wouldn't be
necessary for me to follow you," replied Kiril. His white eyes shone brightly in the half moonlight. "Besides, is that all the thanks I get for saving your life yet again?"

"I don't trust you," said Alfonso. "Why were you wearing that Dragoonya ring on your finger?"

"You mean the ring you stole from me back in Fort Krasnik?" said Kiril with a dry laugh. "I've been meaning to ask for that back. It helps me get in and out of Barsh-yin-Binder. That's the only reason I wear it."

"And how come your eyes are white?" asked Alfonso. "That means you're a Dragoonya, doesn't it?"

"No," said Kiril calmly. "It most certainly doesn't. Your friend Bilblox's eyes are white too—is he a Dragoonya?"

"So you're a Dormian?" asked Alfonso skeptically.

"I was a Dormian once," said Kiril. "But not anymore."

"So you're a Dormian traitor?"

"Watch your tongue, lad," snapped Kiril angrily. "You know not what you say. I am not a Dormian or a Dragoonya—I am a
Gahno.

"A Gahno?"

"Yes—once, many years ago, my family came from the ancient Dormian city of Jasber," explained Kiril. "When I was twelve years old, my older brother, mother, and younger sister traveled to Noctos, another city of Dormia, for a family gathering. During that visit, the city was attacked by the Dragoonya. My brother helped defend the city and, though I was only twelve, I fought by his side. During the battle, part of the Founding Tree burned and many of us—including my entire family—were exposed to the ash as it rained down from the burning tree. We got it into our eyes, which soon turned white.
In the end, we managed to repulse the Dragoonya attack, but afterward—instead of thanking us—the people of Noctos cast everyone with white eyes out into the snow. They called us Gahnos, which means 'untrustworthy' in the ancient Dormian tongue. They hated us—just as they will hate your friend Bilblox when you finally arrive in Somnos."

"What happened to you and your family?" asked Alfonso.

"My five-year-old sister died first," explained Kiril. "She froze to death in the snow. We had no food or blankets. We didn't stand a chance. My mother died two days later. My brother, who had been injured in the battle, died later that night. I managed to wander down into a small ravine and this is where I met the man who became my father. He took me in, warmed me, fed me, and nursed me back to health. He saved my life. I only wish he had found us sooner."

"That's awful," said Alfonso.

"I can stomach a great deal of hypocrisy," continued Kiril, "but I cannot tolerate having my loyalty questioned by you or anyone else. I am a Gahno. We are the embodiment of loyalty—and we have paid dearly for it."

"It still doesn't make sense—" began Alfonso.

"What?" demanded Kiril.

"If you're no longer a Dormian, why are you helping me?"

Kiril said nothing for a moment. Instead, he looked off to the south, where the distant, snow-capped peaks of the Urals shone brightly against the night sky.

"I could tell you some heartwarming tale about how I struggled with my own bitterness and yet still loved Dormia in my heart of hearts," said Kiril with a snort of disgust. "But I see no purpose in lying to you. I don't especially care for you, or your
uncle, or your plant, or Dormia. I do this because my father—the man to whom I owe my life—has urged me to take the path of righteousness. It was he who asked me to help you. I told him it was a lost cause, but he insisted. In the end we must obey our fathers—isn't that so?" Kiril shook his head sadly. "But mark my words—in the end, Dormians will regret their treatment of the Gahnos."

"Who is your father?" asked Alfonso. "I think it's time you told me."

"You're in no position to make demands," retorted Kiril. "All in good time."

Alfonso just stood there. He felt paralyzed, as if he and Kiril were replaying their first encounter in the Forest of the Obitteroos.

"I know you don't trust me," said Kiril with a weary sigh. "But the real traitor in our midst is someone within your traveling party—and I assume you know who it is."

T
HE FOLLOWING
morning, shortly after dawn, Alfonso awoke with a start and looked around anxiously. There were no signs of Kiril anywhere. Alfonso took a sigh of relief. Soon he was busy helping Hill and Bilblox load all of the supplies onto the two dog sleds—including the coffin, with Spack inside of it. The only real packing dilemma involved the Dormian bloom. It had been growing steadily and it was now far too large to be carried in any of their packs. Eventually, they decided to store the plant inside the coffin with Spack. The coffin would protect the growing bloom, and Spack was too awestruck by the bloom to object.

Once the supplies were packed, it was time to go. The huskies barked anxiously as if they too couldn't wait to get going.

"I'll ride with Bilblox," said Hill. "You go with Resuza."

"Resuza is driving the other sled?" Alfonso asked.

"Of course," replied Hill. "She is superb with the dogs."

"I didn't realize you knew how to drive a sled so well," said Alfonso.

"You don't know a lot of things," said Resuza merrily, as she mounted the small standing-board at the back of the sled. "Ready?"

Alfonso rolled his eyes and joined Resuza on the standingboard. Seconds later, Resuza took hold of the sled's whip, snapped it in the air, and yelled, "Yah!" as loudly as she could. Alfonso felt his neck jerk backwards. He quickly lost his balance and almost fell off the sled, but thankfully Resuza grabbed hold of him. The sled whizzed past banks of snow, towering evergreen trees, frozen creeks, giant snowcapped boulders, bushy-tailed foxes, steep cliffs with massive icicles hanging from them, and an endless expanse of frosty blue sky. "Yah!" yelled Resuza as she snapped the whip in the air. "Yah!"

The two sleds headed due south, directly toward the Ural Mountains. Alfonso could see their snowy peaks in the distance. He couldn't believe that the five of them would actually have to navigate their way through these towering masses of ice and rock. But before they did this, they would have to cross Straszydlo Forest. These were the mysterious woods where Vice Admiral Purcheezie had found Hill and Leif all those years ago. These woods also marked the starting point on the Estonian smuggler's map. Alfonso still recalled what the vice admiral had said about these woods: "We came to the edge of a fearsome forest known as Straszydlo. I didn't dare step into the
forest but even from the outside, I'd have to say that it's just about the spookiest place I've ever visited."

As far as Alfonso knew, the vice admiral was afraid of almost nothing. So what exactly had managed to spook her in these woods? After all, according to Spack, these woods were so dangerous that not even the Dragoonya entered them...

***

By late afternoon on the second day of steady travel, they reached the edge of Straszydlo Forest and abruptly came to a halt. The sight of these woods immediately gave Alfonso a creepy feeling. The trees, which were all very tall, had branches covered with sharp, curling, silver thorns. The long branches were meshed together so thickly that the forest appeared to be an impenetrable snarl of trunks, branches, vines, and dark shadows. Indeed, the forest was so dense that it was impossible to see more than ten feet into its interior.

The colors of the forest were also quite striking. The bark of the trees was as black as coal and—despite the fact that it was midwinter—fiery red leaves dangled from the branches. Alfonso mustered his courage and walked directly up to the edge of the forest itself. There, he saw the most alarming sight of all: a series of enormous footprints, each of which bore the imprints of seven long, slender claws.