Keeper of the Phoenix (12 page)

They soon packed up their camp and put out their fire ready to leave. Ash scanned the forest one final time. There was still no sign of Taine. He felt sick in the stomach having to leave his friend, but there was no way around it.

Ash picked up Gwaam’s basket, checking to make sure the phoenix was all right. Something told him he was doing the right thing, that he must fulfil his duty as Gwaam’s Keeper. The thought made him feel a little better.

Shouldering his pack, Ash set out, hoping Rhyll would follow him. She did, although reluctantly at first.

After several hours Ash and Rhyll left the forest behind them. The rain still fell, making them damp and cold.

“Are we heading in the right direction?” Ash asked Gwaam.

The phoenix glanced up at Ash. He seemed to have grown again. Ash was sure he was heavier too. Soon he would outgrow the basket. The food had done Gwaam good. But they would soon need to find more.

“Follow that trail.” Gwaam nodded at a narrow track snaking down into the valley towards a river. The grasslands on either side of the river were stripped of trees, giving Ash a clear view of the valley.

It looks deserted, Ash thought. Hopefully that means it’s safe.

Ash and Rhyll followed the trail until they came to the river. The track swerved and continued alongside the riverbank, although there didn’t seem to be a way across.

“We must get to the other side,” Gwaam said.

“How deep do you think it is?” Rhyll asked.

Ash squinted through the rain, studying the swirling water. “Over our heads.”

“We could swim.”

“The water’s moving too fast and you never know what might be in there.”

“I’m game if you are. It looks like the only way across.”

Ash scanned the riverbanks again. “Hey, look. A bridge.”

Rhyll frowned. “It wasn’t there before.”

“Maybe we couldn’t see it in the rain. It can’t have appeared out of nowhere.”

“Probably not.” Rhyll looked uncertain. “Still, we could always wait for a boat to come by and get a ride across.”

“I don’t see why we can’t use the bridge.”

“Even if it did suddenly appear out of nowhere?”

“We’ll only cross if it’s safe. Let’s have a closer look.”

Ash hoped with all his heart that the bridge was safe. They didn’t need further delays.

When Ash and Rhyll reached the bridge they saw it was made of timber, old yet sturdy. Ash stepped warily onto a beam, testing its strength. It was solid under his foot. He took another step. Still fine.

Ash smiled. “See, nothing to it.”

Gwaam sat up in his basket, looking around him. “Safe so far.”

Rhyll tiptoed uncertainly onto the bridge after Ash. They had almost reached the other side when a group of ragged strangers materialised out of the rain in front of them, blocking their way. They were short and grubby, their hair lank and knotted, their eyes huge in their dirty faces. They looked human, but not one of them stood taller than a five year old, and all carried spears. Rhyll inched closer to Ash.

“Halt!” one of the strangers said. “We are the clan of the trogs. If you use our bridge, you must pay the fee.”

Ash wrinkled his nose. He didn’t like the smell of these strange little creatures. And there were so many of them. Ash knew he and Rhyll didn’t stand a chance of escape.

“What is your fee?” Ash asked, trying not to sound scared.

“Five thousand dracoons,” the trog said.

“I don’t even know what a dracoon is,” Ash said, “and we certainly don’t have five thousand of them. We don’t have any money at all.”

Another trog stepped forwards. Ash realised this creature, with his protruding belly and white unruly hair, was the leader.

“If you do not have the fee, you will have to come with us.” The trog chief’s grey eyes bored into Ash’s blue ones.

Suspicious of the trog chief’s intentions, Ash pushed Gwaam down lower in his basket and hid it behind his back.

The mob cheered, surrounding Ash and Rhyll and propelling them across the bridge. Ash’s heart sank; it was no use resisting for they were greatly outnumbered.

“Where are you taking us?” Ash demanded.

“Those who cannot pay the fee,” the trog chief said, “must face the great Mozar.”

“What does that mean?” Ash asked.

“You will soon see. Now keep moving.”

Feeling the sharp point of a spear in his backside, Ash decided not to argue.

The trogs led Ash and Rhyll across the bridge and through the grass to a cluster of rocks, which resembled any other, dotting the landscape. One of the trogs bent and pushed a large flat rock to the side, revealing a deep hole in the ground. The trogs at the front filed down into the hole, while those at the back waited their turn.

“I can’t go down there,” Rhyll whispered to Ash. “I hate small spaces.”

Seeing Rhyll frightened, Ash knew he had to be the brave one.

“Don’t worry,” he said, biting down on his own fear. “I’ll be with you.”

A spear pressed against Ash’s arm. Rough hands pushed him down the ladder after Rhyll. More rough hands reached out for him in the dimness below. Ash felt Rhyll shaking beside him.

“Stay calm,” Ash whispered in her ear, trying not to show that he was also afraid. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

As Ash’s eyes grew accustomed to the light, he saw they were standing in an underground cavern. Oil lamps secreted into pockets of rock provided light. The smell of cool earth and dust filled Ash’s nostrils. The distant sounds of voices chanting and drums beating thrummed through the air.

Gwaam squawked and flapped his wings. “This is not a good place. We must leave here.”

“Stay quiet,” Ash whispered. “I don’t want you to be noticed.”

“What’s all that noise?” Rhyll shuddered.

Ash shrugged. “No idea. But I guess we’re going to find out.”

The trogs filed off. Ash and Rhyll were forced to follow. As they descended deep underground, they passed stables where donkeys and goats were kept. Next came the kitchens, from which wafted the smells of baking bread and roasting chickens. Then came the living quarters with thin screens serving as doors. All the while, the music grew louder.

Finally, they arrived in a great hall with a high roof. The cavernous room was filled with tiny, dirty trogs, all of them chanting and dancing and waving spears.

The hall’s cream and apricot limestone walls glittered like a million tiny diamonds. A river of dark bubbling liquid ran through the hall, and, in the centre, sat a creature resembling a gigantic, obese earthworm.

The worm was as tall as some of the trees in the Emerald Forest. The hideous creature wore a massive studded leather collar around its neck and a garland of flowers upon its head. The worm opened its mouth and roared, showing countless rows of sharp, jagged yellow teeth.

Rhyll gasped. “What in all Krell is that?”

The chief raised his spear above his head. The crowd fell silent. “Oh great, merciful Mozar,” he boomed, “we offer you these trespassers spewed forth by our generous river. They are yours to do with what you wish.”

The trog chief made a sweeping bow. The crowd applauded. Mozar roared, its pink body glistening, its foul breath washing over the gathering.

Ash’s legs trembled. His gut twisted with fear.

Those teeth are razor sharp, Ash thought. I hope Mozar doesn’t have a taste for human flesh.

“I don’t want to die,” Rhyll said. “Do you think it will eat us?”

“Not if I can help it,” Ash said. He turned to the chief. “Please, let us go. We didn’t mean to make you angry. We’re on a mission to save our village. Many lives depend on us.”

The chief looked serious. “We care not for those who live above. We care only for those who live below, those of the trog.”

Ash decided to try another tack. “Look, we’re sorry for using your bridge, but we had no other way across. If I could pay you, I would, but I have no money, nothing of value. Couldn’t you let us go? We haven’t hurt anyone.”

“I cannot let you go,” the chief said. “Mozar needs to be paid for your wrongdoing.”

“But you trapped us,” Ash said. “We would never have crossed the bridge if we knew it was forbidden.”

The trog chief gave a sly smile. “That is a shame, I’ll admit, but it can’t be helped now. You could repay your debt by becoming Mozar’s servants. Does that sound acceptable?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Rhyll said. “We haven’t got time for this.”

Mozar roared again.

“Please.” Ash glanced at the monster. “We are truly, deeply sorry for using your bridge and coming into your territory. We didn’t mean any harm. We promise if you let us go, we’ll never, ever come back.”

The chief watched Ash and Rhyll carefully. He sighed. “I can see that you’re being honest with me. I admire that. So I will give you one chance, humans. Answer this riddle and instead of becoming Mozar’s servants for life, I’ll set you free.”

Ash almost fainted with relief. “That sounds fair. I guess.” He wasn’t sure he would be any good at answering the chief’s riddle but it was their only hope.

“Listen carefully,” the chief said. “Here is the riddle. More precious to a goblin than gold, more striking than sight to behold. More dangerous than an unsheathed sword, far greater than life’s true reward. Desired by all who seek her out, of her purity there never has been doubt. Answer me this, tell me if you can, what do trogs worship that soars above all humankind?”

The trog smiled, looking supremely confident. “Now, you have my word. If a human, any human, can answer this ancient trog riddle, you shall be set free. Hurry up, mind, we haven’t got all day. Mozar is hungry and someone needs to serve him.”

As if to validate the chief’s words, the giant earthworm leaned down towards those gathered near the moat. It sniffed at Ash and Rhyll then threw back its head and roared. A cheer went up from the trogs.

Ash tried not to be put off. He racked his brain for an answer to the riddle. He glanced at Rhyll. By the look of concentration on her face, she was doing the same.

“Any ideas?” Ash leaned down and whispered to Gwaam.

The bird paced in his basket. “I’m no good at riddles, I’m afraid. I’ve never had much need for them.”

“Never mind,” Ash said. “I’ll keep trying.”

After a few short minutes, the chief stood up. “Time’s up. Do you have the answer?”

“You never said there was a time limit.”

The trog chief shrugged. “I am now.”

“I don’t know the answer.” Ash shook his head. “What about you?” he asked Rhyll.

“No,” she mumbled.

The chief waved at an attendant. “Bring the chains and lower the bridge.”

Trogs rushed forwards with chains to secure Ash’s and Rhyll’s ankles.

“As Mozar’s servants you will need to live close by him,” the trog chief explained. “You will cater to his every need. And so you don’t try to escape, we will chain you right here.” The trog chief leaned in close to Ash. “A word of warning though, Mozar is a little short-sighted and has been known to munch on his servants sometimes.” The chief winced. “We’ve lost more than a few servants that way. He sometimes gets them mixed up with the barbecued chickens, see?”

“Is that …?” Beside Ash, Rhyll was squinting at something in the crowd.

“What is it?” Ash said.

“I don’t believe it,” Rhyll said and she waved her hands in the air. “Taine! You’re alive! Taine!”

“What?” Ash searched for his friend. “Where?”

Rhyll pointed. “There!”

“Stop!” Taine pushed his way through the throng of dirty trogs. “I have the answer.”

Ash was so glad to see his friend he wanted to run over and hug him. But with so many trogs crowded around him he couldn’t move, so he waved instead.

Taine waved back.

“Who are you?” The chief glared at the red-haired boy.

“I’m with them.” Taine jerked his thumb towards Ash and Rhyll. “And I have the answer to your riddle.”

“The time for answers is over,” the chief said. “Your friends couldn’t solve the riddle so they’re to spend the rest of their lives serving Mozar. You may join them if you wish.”

“But you said if any human could answer your ancient trog riddle, you’d set them free. Therefore,
any
human can answer the riddle. I’m a human and I have the answer.”

“That
is
what you said, chief,” a nearby trog said.

The chief shook his spear at the speaker. “I know what I said.” He glared at Taine. “Very well. A trog must live by his word. What is the answer?”

“The answer is a star. Trogs value stars above all else.”

“And why is that?” The chief’s eyes were cold, his lips stretched tight.

“Because you spend so much time underground where it’s safe and warm and where Mozar is. Despite this, you value the light, the night-time stars that light the sky with their beauty and the daytime star, the sun, which warms the earth.” Taine waved his arm at the twinkling limestone walls of the cave. “That’s why you build your home here, among this glowing earth, to remind you of the stars that light the sky and soar above all humankind, like the riddle says.”

The chief studied Taine for a long moment, his face giving away nothing.

Taine’s confidence, and his smile, slipped. “That is right, isn’t it?”

“Humph.” The chief grunted. “You are correct, though it pains me to admit it.”

Taine sagged with relief. Ash and Rhyll each gave a cheer.

“Mozar will be disappointed,” the chief said. “However, I gave my word.” He flicked his hand at Taine dismissively. “You are all free to go.”

“Yay!” Ash and Rhyll hugged Taine while Gwaam flapped his wings happily.

Not wanting to linger in case the chief changed his mind, Ash motioned to the others that it was time to leave. The group hurriedly backed out of the great hall.

“Someone bring in the roast chickens,” the chief ordered his minions. “And hurry, Mozar is hungry!”

Ash and the twins ran all the way to the top of the underground city. When they reached the opening, they saw the sun was almost setting. Ash and Rhyll ran outside, filling their lungs with fresh air.

“Where’s Taine?” Ash said. “I thought he was right behind you.”