Chapter 12
Wound of Kaltara
The three youngsters stood at the western rim of a gigantic canyon, a severing of the earth’s surface in immense proportions. The far rim was well over a league away from the trio and the canyon continued to the left and right as far as their eyes could see. Syman picked up a rock and threw it through the air. He watched it fall until it was no longer visible and still he waited for the sound of it to hit the bottom. The sound was never heard. Shaking his head sadly, he stared at the miniscule river winding its way through the huge canyon far below. The floor of the canyon was rugged with pinnacles reaching up to touch the sky and jagged cliffs all along both rims. Everywhere he looked, the descent was vertical and Syman could not find a hint of a trail anywhere, not even on the canyon floor.
“The Wound of Kaltara,” Syman spat. “The mighty Kaltara River looks like a tiny stream from up here. The canyon must be half a league deep. We will never find a way across it.”
“The horses need a rest anyway,” cheered Antello. “Why don’t we camp here and look for a trail down in the morning?”
“We can not stop until we are across it,” declared Lyra. “There must be a trail down into it.”
“Lyra,” Syman sighed, “we have already pushed the horses too far. I am surprised that they are still able to move. If we don’t rest them, we will end walking to Alamar and it is still a long way off.”
“I don’t understand why we are in such a hurry,” Antello added. “I am sure that we lost the invaders days ago. Syman is right about the horses. They can’t go any farther without rest. I could use some myself. What is the rush?”
Lyra looked at each of them for a moment and then dropped her eyes to view the canyon. After an awkward moment of silence, she pulled the packs off her horse. “Okay,” she relented, “we will rest the horses for a few hours, but then we find a way across this canyon.”
Syman looked at Antello and the blond-haired youth just shrugged and removed his own packs. Syman stormed over to Lyra and stood before her. “There is something that you are not sharing with us,” he accused. “Ever since you fried your hand, you have been pushing us at full speed, heedless of where we were going or the needs of our animals. Did you have a vision or something? Is it so frightening that you cannot share it with your friends? Do you think we will desert you if we know? Lyra, we will never desert you, but we will also not allow you to hurt yourself and that is what you are doing. We go no farther until the horses are well rested and you tell us why we are keeping such a pace.”
Lyra just stared right through him and Syman turned and stormed off to see to his own horse. Antello tried to ease the tension with some light remarks, but the looks he received from Lyra and Syman caused him to accept the silence of the campsite. When Antello had finished taking care of his horse and Lyra’s, he sat down, leaned against a sevemor tree, and pulled the map out of his pack. He was studying the map when Syman sat next to him.
“Did you really have to start a fight with her?” Antello asked. “She is probably just upset over her hand.”
Syman gazed over at Lyra, who had remained standing at the edge of the Wound looking at the other rim with longing. “There is nothing wrong with her hand,” Syman replied. “I don’t understand why or how it was healed, but I never did understand magic much. No, Antello, there is something wrong and she is keeping it from us. She is frightened, but it is more than that and I aim to find out what it is.”
“Maybe she just had a bad dream,” Antello suggested. “I had some weird ones a few nights ago.”
Syman snapped his head toward Antello. “What kind of dreams?” he asked.
“Oh nothing terrible,” shared Antello. “Just Master Caulder asking me a bunch of questions over and over. I had the same dream for two nights straight, but then they stopped.”
“Were the questions about who we were and why we were here?” Syman quizzed.
“How did you know that?” Antello frowned. “I never said anything about it to you.”
“Because I had them too,” Syman sighed.
“They were not dreams,” Lyra declared startling the young men as she slid to the ground before them. “I am sorry, Syman. I should have told you everything, but I didn’t want you to lose hope, as I have. We are all going to die if we don’t get out of the Sakova immediately.”
“What do you mean they were not dreams?” Antello quizzed. “How do you know that?”
“The dreams were the result of magic,” Lyra explained. “I had them too, but instead of Master Caulder, it was Rhodella. I don’t think it matters who it was supposedly asking the questions. It was just supposed to be some authority figure that you trusted. It was really the Sakovans trying to interrogate us.”
“Why would they do that?” Syman asked. “Why not just kill us in our sleep instead?”
Lyra held up her hand and showed the ring. “Because of this,” she stated. “This ring has some significance to the Sakovans. I do not know why, but the Sakovans were unsure whether we had the right to be in the Sakova. That is why they didn’t just kill us.”
“How do you know this?” inquired Antello.
“Because one of them came and talked to me,” Lyra admitted. “That is how my hand got healed. She healed it while you were fishing and Syman was hunting. She didn’t exactly say as much, but her questions were the same as the dreams and I figured it out. You scared her off when you returned to the camp and she fled. I was not supposed to mention her to anyone. She warned me.”
“And I made you tell,” Syman murmured. “I am sorry Lyra, but I was worried about you.”
“What did she look like?” Antello asked eagerly. “How do you know it was a she?”
“She was very little and she had pointed ears,” Lyra answered. “I think she had sharp teeth, but I can’t be sure. I was in shock at the time. I just knew she was female.”
“Okay,” interrupted Syman, “I understand why you were frightened, but why are we now running for our lives? If they are not sure that we belong here, maybe they won’t bother us.”
“Because,” Lyra shook, “they have been with us since we entered the Sakova. We weren’t even aware of them, but they were always with us. The first night they took some of our possessions, later they interrogated us in our dreams. Don’t you see? They can kill us whenever they want and we are powerless to stop them. We wouldn’t even wake up when they slit our throats and feasted on our bodies. Only getting out of the Sakova can save us. If the horses can get us out of the Sakova, I will gladly walk the rest of the way to Alamar.”
The three youngsters sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, but all of them thinking about their vulnerability. The sun lowered in the sky and the canyon lit up with a spectacular display of pinks and reds, yellows and grays. The trio sat mesmerized by the picturesque display until Syman broke the silence.
“Why did she run?” he asked. “We are supposed to be afraid of them, so why did she leave?
“I thought about that for a long time,” Lyra revealed. “I am not sure, but I have a guess. I am the only one with a ring and she chose to show herself to me alone. My guess is that she is not supposed to be seen at all, but she took a chance because she was curious. If I belong in the Sakova then her visit wouldn’t matter much because you never saw her and could not spread any tales about the Sakovans. If I didn’t belong then we would all die anyway, so her risk was not so great.”
“That sounds promising,” interjected Antello. “Maybe they will allow us to leave then.”
“That was my first thought and why I never mentioned anything to you,” Lyra stated, “but that supposes that I heeded her advice and never told you. After thinking about it, she cannot afford to make that assumption. I am sure that she realized it after she left. No, I think we are dead if they catch us. Our only hope is to get across the Wound of Kaltara.”