THE POWER OF ANCIENTS
Chapter Two: Maruli
Chapter Two: Maruli
Racing through the jungle, my desire to find what was concealed within the Quassani drove me on. When I could run no longer, I dropped to my knees, laying my prize gently on the ground. Scooping up a sharp stone, I raised it above my head, plunging it toward the forbidden treasure. Andos tackled me before I struck.
“No!” he hissed, pinning my body to the ground.
I spit dirt and cast him aside as easily as a basket of leaves. I dove for the sharp stone. My wrist slammed to the ground, Andos barreling into my side. My grip on the stone released.
“You know the rules, Maruli,” he pleaded, voice quavering.
Again, I threw him back, my throat locked. Where had such strength come from?
With a faint groan, Andos pushed himself upright, limbs shaking.
“How...d-did you—”
“I don’t know,” I scorned, readying my fists for a battle I knew I’d lose.
His face dropped to his arms. Sobbing, the sound brought a thousand knives stabbing at my heart. I wasn’t the only one who realized he had crossed a line.
“What’s wrong with you, Andos? You used to be adventurous, curious. And, you’ve never taken advantage of my weakness before. Now look at you!”
He merely shook his head, buried it deeper into his elbows.
My eyes strayed back to the Quassani just beyond our feet. Somehow it had remained whole, staring back, tempting me to break it open.
“Just get it over with,” Andos said softly, eyes closed. “Go ahead—I won’t stop you again.”
A sideways suspicious glance, and I crawled toward the Quassani. A third time, the cleaving stone trembled above my head…but I paused…loosening my grip. Was it worth losing my only friend, the sole villager willing to overlook my deformity? Sighing, I lowered my hands but then felt a warm breath behind me. Andos was looking over my shoulder. Emboldened anew, I allowed myself a slight grin as I thrust the sharp edge downward.
A piercing cry flooded the jungle. Light as brilliant as the sun flashed, and an invisible force hurled us backward, skewering us to a patch of snake fruit palms. I screamed, but not Andos. He jerked himself off the one-inch thorns with a loud groan, grimacing as blood dripped to the earth. Brushing it aside, he attended to me, pulling each limb gently off the barbs.
My back was on fire, my legs and arms on fire, my neck on fire. Like Andos, my blood stained the ground.
With sticky hands, he helped me stand. I marveled at him. Did he not know pain?
“Gotta get you back to the village to tend to those punctures, One-Arm. You’re losing blood.”
“So are you,” I gasped, chin dropped to my chest. “But we can’t go until we find out what that cry for help was all about.” I pulled away, barely able to keep my balance.
“What are you talking about, One-Arm? You probably heard your own screams,” he scolded.
“No, someone shouted for help the moment I cracked the Quassani open…when the light burst forth…wh-when we were thrown back.”
“Well, I didn’t hear—”
A rustle among the leaves startled us. Andos yanked me toward him. Swirling through the air, a sharp object grazed my waist and slammed into the trunk of a mighty teak behind us. A keris—the rippled blade of sorcery used by masters of black magic. I twisted around. Another keris flew toward me. Andos jumped forward, and the sword tore deep into his right leg. He fell without a hint of a cry.
From a nearby patch of struggling saplings, a thin shadow of a man emerged, limbs knobbed and contorted like a broken cockroach. The shaman flashed yellow eyes of madness, the telltale sign of possession by an evil spirit. He started toward us.
At the same moment, an enormous dhole* leapt from the bushes and bowled into the man, buying precious moments for my friend to pull the knife from his flesh. I steadied Andos as he struggled to his feet, but I couldn’t help but stare after the strange beast which slipped away into the thicket.
“Warn the elders. I’ll hold off the dukun,” Andos gasped.
“You can barely stand,” I protested.
“I can handle him.”
Guilt flooded my soul, and I hesitated, but he pushed me in the direction of the village.
“Run, One-Arm—before it’s too late!”
* Sometimes called the Asiatic wild dog, or whistling dog, they used to roam freely throughout the world but now are confined to South and Southeast Asia and are an endangered species.
“No!” he hissed, pinning my body to the ground.
I spit dirt and cast him aside as easily as a basket of leaves. I dove for the sharp stone. My wrist slammed to the ground, Andos barreling into my side. My grip on the stone released.
“You know the rules, Maruli,” he pleaded, voice quavering.
Again, I threw him back, my throat locked. Where had such strength come from?
With a faint groan, Andos pushed himself upright, limbs shaking.
“How...d-did you—”
“I don’t know,” I scorned, readying my fists for a battle I knew I’d lose.
His face dropped to his arms. Sobbing, the sound brought a thousand knives stabbing at my heart. I wasn’t the only one who realized he had crossed a line.
“What’s wrong with you, Andos? You used to be adventurous, curious. And, you’ve never taken advantage of my weakness before. Now look at you!”
He merely shook his head, buried it deeper into his elbows.
My eyes strayed back to the Quassani just beyond our feet. Somehow it had remained whole, staring back, tempting me to break it open.
“Just get it over with,” Andos said softly, eyes closed. “Go ahead—I won’t stop you again.”
A sideways suspicious glance, and I crawled toward the Quassani. A third time, the cleaving stone trembled above my head…but I paused…loosening my grip. Was it worth losing my only friend, the sole villager willing to overlook my deformity? Sighing, I lowered my hands but then felt a warm breath behind me. Andos was looking over my shoulder. Emboldened anew, I allowed myself a slight grin as I thrust the sharp edge downward.
A piercing cry flooded the jungle. Light as brilliant as the sun flashed, and an invisible force hurled us backward, skewering us to a patch of snake fruit palms. I screamed, but not Andos. He jerked himself off the one-inch thorns with a loud groan, grimacing as blood dripped to the earth. Brushing it aside, he attended to me, pulling each limb gently off the barbs.
My back was on fire, my legs and arms on fire, my neck on fire. Like Andos, my blood stained the ground.
With sticky hands, he helped me stand. I marveled at him. Did he not know pain?
“Gotta get you back to the village to tend to those punctures, One-Arm. You’re losing blood.”
“So are you,” I gasped, chin dropped to my chest. “But we can’t go until we find out what that cry for help was all about.” I pulled away, barely able to keep my balance.
“What are you talking about, One-Arm? You probably heard your own screams,” he scolded.
“No, someone shouted for help the moment I cracked the Quassani open…when the light burst forth…wh-when we were thrown back.”
“Well, I didn’t hear—”
A rustle among the leaves startled us. Andos yanked me toward him. Swirling through the air, a sharp object grazed my waist and slammed into the trunk of a mighty teak behind us. A keris—the rippled blade of sorcery used by masters of black magic. I twisted around. Another keris flew toward me. Andos jumped forward, and the sword tore deep into his right leg. He fell without a hint of a cry.
From a nearby patch of struggling saplings, a thin shadow of a man emerged, limbs knobbed and contorted like a broken cockroach. The shaman flashed yellow eyes of madness, the telltale sign of possession by an evil spirit. He started toward us.
At the same moment, an enormous dhole* leapt from the bushes and bowled into the man, buying precious moments for my friend to pull the knife from his flesh. I steadied Andos as he struggled to his feet, but I couldn’t help but stare after the strange beast which slipped away into the thicket.
“Warn the elders. I’ll hold off the dukun,” Andos gasped.
“You can barely stand,” I protested.
“I can handle him.”
Guilt flooded my soul, and I hesitated, but he pushed me in the direction of the village.
“Run, One-Arm—before it’s too late!”
* Sometimes called the Asiatic wild dog, or whistling dog, they used to roam freely throughout the world but now are confined to South and Southeast Asia and are an endangered species.
