Shadowland: Book III of the Brotherhood of the Conch Read online

  Anand was surprised at the offer because the conch rarely expressed its affection for him. But he wasn’t going to turn down this rare opportunity! Though his job as keeper required him to clean the shrine each day, he handled the conch only once a year, when it received its ritual bath. At that time the Chief Healer would unlock the shrine with the requisite chants in front of a hall full of people. It was a stately affair, but by no means an intimate experience.

  Glancing around to make sure no one was looking, he extended his hand toward the shrine. When his fingers touched the crystal wall, it melted to allow his hand through. He picked up the conch carefully and brought it to his chest, feeling it pulse against his heart. How light it was, how seemingly fragile! Looking at it, so like a common shell one might find on any beach, who could guess at its power? A crack ran along one of its sides. As Anand ran his finger along it, he was overwhelmed with gratitude—and sorrow—for it was in a battle to save Anand from the jinn that the conch had sustained this injury.

  Now, now, said the conch in its usual wry tone. Don’t go all maudlin on me.

  Anand smiled as he replaced the conch. But at the door of the hall he paused, struck by something it had said. What did you mean by we will be apart for quite a while? he asked. I’m only going away for three nights.

  Was it his imagination, or was there the slightest of pauses before the conch’s answer?

  You mean three nights away from me doesn’t seem like a long while to you? I’m insulted!

  * * *

  Sitting at the cold, uncomfortable cave entrance, Anand thought the conch had been right. Three nights—no four—on this desolate mountainside away from it was a very long while. It was time he went home.

  How excited he had been the first day when he reached the cave! Though the climb had been strenuous, he could not sit still. He kept stepping outside the cave and walking around, swinging his arms in exaggerated arcs, hoping that the movements would catch the hermit’s attention, wherever he might be. All that night, he barely slept. What if the hermit chose to drop in on him in the silent hours before dawn? Anand didn’t want him to think that he was shirking his duty. But it had been for nothing.

  By the third day, Anand’s spirits had sunk. Keeping Abhaydatta’s warning in mind, he’d gathered up his things, resigned to returning to the valley. But when he stepped outside, he discovered, not far from the entrance, a footprint in the snow. Had the hermit approached the cave? Was this a sign that he was about to grant Anand a meeting? Anand was torn. He hated to disobey Abhaydatta. And yet it seemed that he was very close to his goal. How could he bear to give up now? He decided to stay one more night. Surely his mentor wouldn’t want him to quit just when success approached his grasp. And what could happen to him—especially if he stayed inside the cave—for just a few more hours?

  But it had been a waste of time. Now, no doubt, he would be punished for having disobeyed Abhaydatta.

  Anand picked up the twin staffs that he would need to maneuver his way down the steep, icy slope. He considered taking back the bag Abhaydatta had packed with dried fruit and nuts and warm woolen robes for the hermit. It would serve the man right for not showing up, he thought, and for tantalizing him with that footprint. But at the last moment he dropped it in a corner of the cave and blew out the lamp.

  Coming up to the cave had been difficult, but going down, Anand discovered, was even more challenging. The trail was narrow and at times disappeared completely, forcing him to clamber over jagged rocks. Luckily, on the way up, following the healer’s instructions, he had hammered colored stakes into the ground at regular intervals. He followed these now. But surely he’d used more stakes! Where had the others disappeared to, leaving him with large gaps on the path that made him wonder if he was going the right way? Several times his feet slid on the treacherous moraine that lined the mountainside, and he had to dig his staffs in hard to avoid slipping over the edge. Who knew how far he would tumble if he lost his footing! This high up, there were no bushes to break his fall. Once, looking down, he saw all the way into a dark, hungry gorge that must have been a thousand feet below. It seemed to beckon to him. With a shudder, he turned his eyes from it.

  After a while, the trail wound around to the other side of the peak. Anand heaved a sigh of relief. From what he remembered, now the trail would widen. He would also be able to see the Silver Valley. Though it was still several hours away, even a distant glimpse of his beloved home would give him strength. He hurried to the edge for a look, eager to see which of the buildings he could recognize.

  There was nothing below except a barren stretch of rock and snow.

  Anand blinked, then rubbed his eyes. He was tired. That must be it! But when he looked again, there was still nothing. His heart began to pound. Was the mountain playing a trick on him? Had he lost his way? Maybe he needed to go around farther to the other side. But in that direction his path was blocked by a gigantic black rock. Besides, he could see the trail quite clearly, wending its way below, its edges marked, from time to time, by the colored dots of his stakes.

  He took a deep breath to calm himself. Of course! The valley had a spell laid over it to keep it safe from outsiders. That must be why he couldn’t see any of its buildings or pastures. How foolish he had been to panic! How Nisha would laugh at him if she knew! Still, a sense of unease clung to him. He hurried down the path, going too fast now, tripping over stones. By the time he came to the two upright, gatelike rocks where he had started his journey, his robe was torn and his arms were lacerated. He paid no attention to the pain. Standing before the rocks on the spot he had marked with the first of his stakes, his voice shaking, he spoke the password that would make the rocks slide aside, granting him entry.

  Nothing happened.

  And yet something was different. When he had left the valley, Anand had heard Abhaydatta speak the words to close the doorway. He had seen the rocks come together until not even a hairline gap was left between them. But now, even before he had pronounced the password, there was enough space between them for a boy to squeeze through.

  Anand moved forward tentatively, his hand held out in front of him. Sometimes gateways were protected by energy instead of a physical barrier. But he felt no tingling, no elasticity in the air pressing back against his palm. The door was unguarded!

  His mouth dry with fear, Anand pushed his way through the gap. The sight that met his eyes on the other side evaporated his last hope. Where earlier there had been a flower-lined pathway that led past the dormitories and mango orchards, now there were only craggy rocks covered with ice. There weren’t even any ruins to show what had once stood here.

  Anand couldn’t stop shaking—and it had nothing to do with the freezing temperature around him. What had happened in the four days since he had been gone? Where had everyone disappeared? What had become of his beloved conch? Or—and this was the worst of the thoughts that swirled in his brain—had there never been anything here? Had he, out of some desperate desire, dreamed it all?

  That was when he heard the sound of crying.

  He ran toward the source of the noise, thanking the Powers that there was some other life in this desolate place. To his surprise, he found Nisha slumped next to a rock, face hidden in her hands, body racked by sobs. Next to her was a spilled basket of herbs. He touched her shoulder tentatively, not quite daring to believe that it was her. She started, thrusting out the small knife she used for herb cutting, but when she recognized him, the knife fell from her hands and she clutched his arms gratefully.

  “Thank God you’re here, Anand! I thought I’d gone mad!”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Anand said, feeling equally thankful to have found his friend.

  “How can everything disappear like this, without leaving the slightest trace?” Nisha’s voice rose in agitation.

  “I don’t know,” Anand said. “But how did you escape whatever happened to everyone else here?”

  “I must have used Persuasion really
well—or maybe I just wore out Mother Amita with my pestering. Yesterday she had Master Abhaydatta weave me a spell of protection and sent me down to the gorge to fetch some herbs. I got back about an hour ago. How I wish I hadn’t insisted on going! Wherever the rest of the Brotherhood are, that’s where I want to be, too!” She burst into tears again.

  “Don’t say that!” Anand implored, his heart twisting because Nisha never cried. “Otherwise I’d be all alone now. We’ll try to find out what happened, but first we must take care of ourselves. I’m starving—and you must be, too. Do you have any food or water?”

  Nisha shook her head. “Mother Amita gave me only enough to eat on the way down, because the gorge has a spring and many fruit trees. But it’s too far away. We’ll never reach it before dark. And it’s getting so cold and windy.”

  “We’ll go to the hermit’s cave,” Anand said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “The path is steep, but I’ll give you one of my staffs. Abhaydatta had packed me food and clothing for the hermit. I left them there. We can use those, and the cave will shelter us. Tomorrow we’ll decide on a plan.”

  Chilled, hungry, disheartened, and acutely aware that they were no longer protected from the dangers of the mountain, the two friends started the long, hard climb.

  2

  THE HERMIT’S CAVE

  The sun was setting. Behind Anand and Nisha, the sky had turned a beautiful purple, but they were too harried to enjoy it. More of the colored stakes had disappeared, and this had slowed them down as they climbed up, especially wherever the path forked. The absence of the markers worried Anand. Clearly there was some kind of malignant force on the mountain that did not wish them well—and the disappearance of the valley and its healers had strengthened it. He could feel it in the biting wind that had risen, a wind that hit them in sudden gusts, almost making them lose their balance. The lower the sun sank, the harder the wind grew, and the colder it became. His hands were so chilled that he could hardly feel the staff he was holding. From time to time, he heard the growl of thunder, but when he looked up, the sky was cloudless. He didn’t share his misgivings with Nisha—she was nervous enough already—but when she wanted to stop and rest, he wouldn’t allow it.

  Nisha grew increasingly irritable as they climbed. “What a dictator you’ve become!” she shouted at one point. “Do you have any idea how tired I am? I’ve been climbing all day. I have blisters as big as tomatoes on my feet!”

  Anand bit back the retort that rose to his tongue because he knew a quarrel would waste the little time and energy they had. He guessed that was exactly what the mountain wanted. Though he couldn’t have explained why, he knew that it was essential that they reach the cave before dark. “Come on, Nisha. It’s just a little farther!” he urged, taking her hand to pull her up a steep part of the trail.

  He half expected her to snatch her hand away. But she must have been truly exhausted, because she allowed him to assist her.

  “Do you hear something?” she whispered. “It’s like an animal panting.”

  Anand listened, but he could not hear anything above the wind’s eerie whine and the strange growling sounds. But he had a distinct feeling that something was following them, and that darkness would increase its powers. He tried to run, pulling Nisha along. The mouth of the cave was only a few feet ahead. But at that moment the sun dipped behind a peak. As though in response, the ground turned slippery as glass under their feet. It was impossible to dig their staffs into its smooth, hard surface. To stop themselves from sliding backward, they had to fall to their knees.

  Now Anand could hear the panting Nisha had mentioned. As the wind swirled around him, a rotting stench assaulted his nose. Although he knew he should not, he couldn’t help looking over his shoulder. In the failing evening light, something immense was gliding up the hill. He could not see what it was, for a black fog surrounded it. But he could feel its malevolence, and its hunger.

  He wrenched his attention from it—and from his own fear—and directed it to the glassy ground. He tried to remember what he had learned of Transformation and apply it to the path. “Be as you were before!” he whispered to it as he tried to reach its essence. He could almost feel it, layers of light that were overlaid by a black sheet. He tried to push the sheet away. As though from afar, he could hear Nisha’s voice crying, “Stop! Come no closer!” She was trying to use Persuasion on the creature that followed them. It gave a growl of annoyance, the way a lion might growl at a mouse, but the fog paused, if only for a moment.

  Perhaps the Transformation skill had worked a little, too, for Anand’s fingers found a rock to the side of the road—and then another. Holding on to these and using all their strength, the two of them were able to drag themselves up the slope, one arm’s length at a time until somehow they managed to reach the cave. Behind them they heard a howl. A rush of fetid air launched itself at the cave. Anand and Nisha shrank back in terror, but whatever had stalked them was unable to pass through the cave mouth. It didn’t go away, though. They could hear it pacing outside. It knew it could wait them out. For the moment, however, they were safe.

  Inside the cave, it was pitch-black and not much warmer than outside. With numb fingers Anand groped around for the lamp, but he could not locate it. Nor could he find the bag.

  “I can’t understand where they could have gone,” he exclaimed.

  “Maybe the hermit came by afterward and took them,” Nisha suggested from the other side of the cave. She sounded as though she, too, was on her knees, searching.

  The thought that the hermit had been nearby, watching until he left, was a bitter one for Anand. Angry words rose to his lips, but right then Nisha gave a scream. “There’s someone here! I touched a foot. Help! It’s got me!”

  Anand’s heart jolted with fear. So much for his belief that they would be safe in the cave!

  “I’m coming, Nisha!” he shouted, running toward his friend’s voice. But in the dark he tripped on a rock and went flying. His breath knocked out of him, he came to a stop against—yes, it was a bare, hairy foot!

  “Good grief!” boomed a voice. “How many of you little pests are there?” A hard, bony hand grabbed Anand’s shoulder and pulled him up. There was the sound of a flint being struck.

  In the hazy lamplight that filtered through the cave, Anand saw a tall, thin man looming over Nisha and himself. He was clothed in a brand-new woolen robe that was much too loose for him. Unruly hair radiated from his head in every direction. His eyes glittered in the lamplight, but the look in them, though exasperated, was not unkind.

  “You’re the hermit!” Anand croaked.

  The hermit did not bother responding to this observation, nor did he ask what they were doing in his cave. He strode off to a dark corner, where he busied himself, with much muttering, with something Anand couldn’t see.

  “Do you think we could ask him for something to eat?” Nisha whispered in Anand’s ear. “There must be some food left in the bag that Abhaydatta sent.”

  “Of course there is!” The voice echoed against the cave walls. “I’m a hermit, not a bottomless pit. That’s what I was working on, Miss Impatience, in addition to keeping the yaksha that was stalking you from entering the cave.”

  Anand saw the hermit approach them, two earthen bowls in his hands. One held the dried fruits and nuts that Abhaydatta had packed, along with a bunch of ripe bananas. The other, to Anand’s surprise, held fresh milk.

  “The monkeys bring me fruit from the gorges, and the milk is from the wild goats that share the mountain with me.” The hermit grinned, tickled by the boy’s surprise. “You’ll have to tell young Abhaydatta when you see him next that he shouldn’t worry about my meals.”

  Young Abhaydatta? Anand thought. How old was this hermit that he could refer to his mentor in this manner? Along with that came another thought: Where was the healer now?

  The hermit held out the bowls. “Go on!” he said.

  Anand and Nisha didn’t need a second invitati
on. With a hurried word of thanks, they divided the food between them and finished it most efficiently. While they ate, the hermit disappeared into the darkness of the cave. This time he returned with blankets and a stack of wood. In a few moments he had a fire blazing. Gratefully, the two friends drew close to it, wrapping themselves in the blankets the hermit tossed their way.

  The hermit sat facing them, his body still as the rocks that made up the cave. Only his sharp, hooded eyes flickered as he scrutinized their faces. Anand had the uncomfortable feeling that the hermit was looking deep into their hearts. Anand’s face grew hot as he remembered how many names he’d called the hermit for not showing up. Would the hermit hold that against him? Would he refuse to help them? He tried to find the right words to apologize, but they wouldn’t come.

  Fortunately, Nisha spoke up, direct as ever. “As you can see, we’re in a lot of trouble. Our home’s destroyed, and our teachers have vanished. Do you know what happened?”

  The hermit took his time to answer.

  “Some things I know,” he finally said, “and some I can only guess. The force that has turned the valley into this frozen wasteland came from a distant world, too far away for me to gauge its nature. I felt it circling the valley for the last several days, but I did not know what it was searching for. Now I see that it wanted to find objects of power. Perhaps Abhaydatta sensed it, too. Maybe that’s why he sent you”—he nodded at Anand—“up to me. That was also why I didn’t come to the cave and instead tempted you with a footprint when you were about to leave. I wanted to keep you up here, where you would be safe.”

  Anand lowered his eyes, ashamed. How mistaken he’d been, jumping to conclusions, thinking the worst of the hermit! The next time, he promised himself, he wouldn’t judge someone so quickly.

  The hermit smiled as though he knew Anand’s thoughts. Then he continued, “When the force sensed the conch, it focused all its power on it and pulled it through the abyss that underlies time and space into its own world. Once the conch was gone from our world, none of the things that depended on its presence could continue. That’s why the buildings disappeared, and the fields, and the parijat trees.” Here the hermit gave a sigh. “Ah, those trees were pretty! It cheered me to look down on their silver blossoms.”