Laura S. Fox
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Hungry Heart - Book #3 - Ch. 37
🕑 Added 2022-08-14 18:00:05 +0000 UTCChapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / Chapter Ten / Chapter Eleven / Chapter Twelve / Chapter Thirteen / Chapter Fourteen / Chapter Fifteen / Chapter Sixteen / Chapter Seventeen / Chapter Eighteen / Chapter Nineteen / Chapter Twenty / Chapter Twenty-One / Chapter Twenty-Two / Chapter Twenty-Three / Chapter Twenty-Four / Chapter Twenty-Five / Chapter Twenty-Six / Chapter Twenty-Seven / Chapter Twenty-Eight / Chapter Twenty-Nine / Chapter Thirty / Chapter Thirty-One / Chapter Thirty-Two / Chapter Thirty-Three / Chapter Thirty-Four / Chapter Thirty-Five / Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven – A Path to Nowhere
Toru and Duril walked through the narrow streets, carefully keeping close to the walls. “Do you see anyone?” Toru whispered. After leaving the palace, they had thought it would be an easy trip to the place where the Sakka resided. The tiny helpers still preferred their hiding places at the foot of the ruined walls, and they weren’t hard to find.
However, as soon as they had put one foot outside the palace, people everywhere wanted to touch them and talk to them. At first, Toru had been patient, and Duril had been courteous, answering their questions and accepting various gifts, but their attention soon became overwhelming. For that reason, Toru had invoked urgent chores that needed attending to and had withdrawn back into the palace, with Duril in tow.
The second attempt to leave the palace had involved much more dangerous actions. In his tiger form, and with Duril on his back, Toru had found a way to get out of the place without any curious eyes seeing them. Descending the wall had been a perilous adventure, so Toru was all the more grateful for Duril’s bravery. Once they found their feet touching solid ground, they had opted for the labyrinth of narrow pathways that crossed the city and could lead them to their destination.
Fortunately for them, these streets were not as populated. Duril had brought some long capes to hide underneath, so they hadn’t been recognized so far.
“I think we’re safe,” Duril whispered after observing the quiet streets up and down. It helped that it was late in the afternoon, and everyone was taking a nap. Toru would have been in favor of such a thing as well, but in the end, he had to admit that Duril was right and that hour was the most favorable for going to meet the Sakka.
“What will the Sakka do?” Toru wondered out loud, as they continued their hurried walk.
“What do you mean?” Duril asked.
“Their purpose was to take care of the tigers, but now--” He stopped abruptly. It was hard to say that there were no tigers, and he was the last of his kind. There were other tigers across the world, without a doubt, because he had seen them with his own two eyes, but they weren’t his kin.
“Their purpose is not lost. It will just turn into something else. I’m sure of it,” Duril said. “And we can just ask them. Scercendusa needs their guidance and wisdom. Now that they’re no longer pariahs and must hide from view.”
Toru just nodded. He had so many things to ask the Sakka. Would they be able to give him the answers he was seeking? He wasn’t entirely sure, but it was worth a try. Seeing how he had nothing to begin with, any little thing they knew would be helpful.
That and traveling to the Scarlet Peaks. “I’m so glad Claw wants to stay with us.”
“I am, too,” Duril confirmed. “He has a special bond with Varg.”
“Varg has quite a strange pack,” Toru said. “A tiger, a bear, and the most handsome half-human, half-orc.”
“You always want to make me blush,” Duril scolded him with affection in his voice and eyes. “But I suppose that there aren’t many half-human, half-orc people you’ve met, so it must be easy to be the most handsome of all.”
Toru bit his lower lip in frustration. How come he hadn’t realized that he hadn’t actually seen any other people like Duril? He wasn’t allowed the time needed to apologize, because Duril kissed his cheek quickly. “I’m glad you think that,” the healer said. “Now let’s find the Sakka. I’m sure they must be busy tidying up their headquarters, but I believe they will have time for us.”
Toru nodded and began walking faster. Evening would be quickly upon them if they dallied for too long, and evening meant dinner at the palace, the kind he hadn’t gotten to enjoy the day before. What Claw and Duril had told him about that meal was enough to make his mouth water.
***
They found the Sakka where they expected them to be, hidden in that place at the foot of the walls, even though the tall construction was no more. Here and there, the Sakka’s quarters no longer had roofs, and indeed, a good number of them was already hard at work making the necessary repairs.
As soon as they were noticed, one of the many tiny workers hurried through a door and a moment later Beanstalk emerged, his arms wide open. “My lord,” he said, his eyes bright and his hands covered in white dust. “You should have sent word that you were coming. We are not fit to welcome you.”
Toru surprised Beanstalk by taking him into his arms and giving him a hug. “I’m not like the rest of the tigers you took care of in the past, Bean.”
“Yes, indeed,” Beanstalk agreed, slightly dizzy and holding onto his cap when Toru finally put him down. “I keep forgetting that. But you are still our lord and master.”
“And as your lord and master,” Toru said in an emphatic tone, “I command you to enjoy a bit of rest. Do you all need to continue to live here, in hiding? I’m sure there is enough room at the palace or elsewhere for you to call home. Somewhere a lot more comfortable.”
Beanstalk nodded pensively and let his hand wander over the scratched wall to his right for a few moments. “This has been our home for millenia. The city rebuilt on top of us, time and again. And all these long years and centuries that we’ve spent waiting have left their mark on us. I don’t think any of the Sakka would want to live elsewhere.”
“At least, you should consider some windows and a few proper doors,” Toru suggested. “I’m the kind that likes it best when sleeping under the naked sky, but that’s me.”
Beanstalk laughed. “I’m glad to hear that we have a master that’s not as fussy as his predecessors.”
That simple mention made Toru remember why he was there in the first place. “I have questions to ask,” he announced.
Beanstalk gestured for him and Duril to follow him into a small room, well-aired and lit through a large vent in the ceiling. It took Toru some time to realize that the vent was actually a hole through the wall that had been there before and for centuries. Otherwise, the room was clean and cozy. Toru noticed that large pillows were placed on the floor, and there were fluffy rugs, no one like the others. He wasn’t the type to comment on how the Sakka chose to decorate their rooms and sat on a big pillow, at Beanstalk’s invitation.
It seemed like their host had noticed the question in their eyes, even if they didn’t say anything. “The spoils of our fight for survival,” Beanstalk commented cheerfully. “We usually stole only what we needed, and some of us decided that we needed some pillows to go with this room.”
“The people are going to give you everything you need, now that you are out in the open,” Duril said.
Toru nodded, as he completely agreed with the healer. “You don’t have to hide anymore.”
Beanstalk waved. “We’ll find ways to help that will warrant honest payment. I can’t truly speak for Pie. He might continue to steal an apple here and there. Old habits die hard.” He climbed a wooden ladder that he positioned in front of a bookshelf that stretched upward so high that Toru had to crane his neck to see its top.
“I visited Elidias in Shroudharbor,” Duril explained. “I spent days in his library. Yet, I couldn’t find anything about what Toru would like to find out now.”
Toru only then realized that he hadn’t said what he was there for. “I need to find about Nelsikkar, Bean,” he added right away.
“I knew you’d come to ask about it. Now that you have memories about your grand origins, you want to find it. Am I correct?” Bean turned on the ladder, making the ancient thing tremble its rickety old bones for a moment.
“Yes,” Toru confirmed. “Are you sure you don’t want some help with that? I could reach the higher shelves.”
“But you don’t know what to look for,” Beanstalk pointed out. “I do. Where was it now?” he wondered, but it was evident that he was talking mostly to himself. “Ah, there it is.” He grabbed a dusty tome with both hands and balanced it by leaning back.
Toru couldn’t wait anymore. He had practiced patience during the last days, but it was hardly an easy thing for him to wait longer than he could bear. He jumped to his feet and caught Beanstalk, along with his tome, bringing them both down. Aware that his actions might put off the head of the Sakka, he was as ceremonious as he could muster while planting Beanstalk in his chair at the tall desk.
The Sakka, however, seemed completely undisturbed. “This,” he said while caressing the worn cover of the tome and then blowing the dust off, “is the book of places.”
Toru nodded as if he could really understand what that meant. Those places had to include Nelsikkar, too. Did the book say anything on how to get there? It would definitely help a lot with their future quest. An emotion he didn’t recognize gripped his heart. It wasn’t precisely happiness as he had known that feeling in the past. This had sharp edges that hurt, too; but it wasn’t sadness, either, as it was sweet in a dull way that moved like a wave through him. He scrunched up his nose, as prickly tiny thorns irritated his eyes.
He sneezed, blowing off the remaining dust on the tome cover in one go.
Beanstalk laughed. “Bless you,” he said and opened the large book.
***
During their time together, Duril had come to know Toru well, and at that very moment, he could tell that the young tiger could barely contain his curiosity blended with a different kind of emotion. It was an important moment, so Duril got up from the comfortable pillow on which he had sat until then and walked over to his friend. He linked his hand with Toru’s and held it, while he leaned over, just as curious as his lover about the Sakka’s ancient tome and the wealth of knowledge it contained.
Beanstalk opened the book, turning the pages with the utmost care. His hands were wrinkled and carried the signs of time in more ways than one, and, for a moment, Duril wondered how many things the Sakka knew and how much they still remembered, seeing how they had lived for so long.
“It is for this reason that we keep everything written down,” Beanstalk said as if he could read his mind. “Together, we, the Sakka, know everything. But take only one of us, separate him from the rest, and the only thing you will get will be nothing but a sliver of the truth.”
Duril didn’t question how it was possible for Beanstalk to understand so much without even hearing what others wanted to say. He had gotten used to this sort of magic ever since he had walked the world by Toru’s side.
“Is it a compendium of all the places in Eawirith?” he asked politely.
“Not quite,” Beanstalk said. “That would have been a much larger work than this one. Nobody would be able to lift it off a shelf. No shelf would be able to hold it. No, this is a book about hidden places.”
Duril didn’t want to behave in a more excited manner than Toru. Hidden places? Were they many? By the size of the tome, without a doubt.
Beanstalk turned the pages slowly. Duril craned his neck, trying to read the small neat letters. Quickly, he realized that the symbols used to make words made no sense to him. They belonged to a language he had never seen written in his life. He doubted he would understand it even if he heard it spoken. It had to be the language of the Sakka, as ancient as they were.
“We had to protect our knowledge,” Beanstalk explained. “We couldn’t allow our writings to fall into the wrong hands.”
“Will you teach your language to others now?” Duril asked.
“We will try. Maybe we’ll find a few scholars curious enough about our writings to make the attempt,” Beanstalk said. “But we will be rewriting everything in the languages spoken all over the world. That should give us several centuries to keep ourselves busy.”
Duril nodded. It looked like no one had to worry about the Sakka remaining without a purpose.
“We will also have to write about how Toru defeated Hekastfet so that it remains known for all the generations to come,” Beanstalk continued. “But first, let us tend to the task at hand. I will read to you about Nelsikkar. Young scholar,” he addressed Duril, “stack some pillows and take a seat by the desk. Some of the things I’ll tell you are better kept in black and white so that you can revisit them later.”
“Are you going to tell us about how to get to Nelsikkar?” Toru asked.
“I will tell you everything we know,” Beanstalk explained patiently. “We’re bound to this place, we always have been. What we know of Nelsikkar comes from the tigers who have come here for millennia. But they couldn’t tell us more than they were allowed. The place where Nelsikkar stood has always been a well-kept secret.”
“Only that Hekastfet found it, right?” Toru asked with pain in his voice. “He found it and destroyed it.”
Beanstalk appeared to be lost in thought. “He needed to lure the Olliandran from their place. Did he ever truly find it? We cannot know for sure.”
“A lot of people left at the same time as me, I remember,” Toru said. “My parents and the nobles left for Scercendusa, and the children and everyone who wasn’t a fighter left for Niverborg. But I don’t know if other people stayed behind. I don’t know much.” Toru clenched his fists in frustration.
Duril caressed his arm. “You were a child, Toru.” The young tiger had told him some of the things he remembered of his childhood. Nelsikkar, as it lived in Toru’s memories, seemed to have been a blessed place. Even if they only found ruins and scattered remnants of lives once lived, they would still search for it. It was a call deeper than blood, the call of home. It meant family, bonds, memories, and everything that made someone who they were. Duril understood it, as much as part of his life had been lived while he was shunned by others. He remembered Whitekeep and would always do so.
“Let’s see,” Beanstalk said and placed a finger on top of a page. “Nelsikkar, the home of Olliandran. House of Tigers, Heart of the World.”
“Heart of the World?” Toru asked. “Why is it called that?”
“A most gracious name for a placed revered,” Beanstalk explained.
Duril had plenty of a questions of his own, and this one time decided not to keep silent. “The tigers saved the world time and again. Why weren’t they celebrated? In history texts, in songs and fairytales?”
“The world was reborn anew each time,” Beanstalk explained. “A part of it, the one tainted by Hekastfet. The evil had never conquered all, as much as it spread its tendrils of darkness as far and wide as it could. The ones who would have remembered died; the rest of them, they never knew.”
“A well-kept secret,” Duril murmured under his breath. “Such a strange thing.”
“In Nelsikkar, they must have kept a different history to remember. It was thought wise for no one to know where the tigers came from.”
“I have another question,” Toru intervened. “My father was from Niverborg. And he came to live in Nelsikkar. So he and his people must have known how to get there somehow.”
Beanstalk nodded. “Indeed, you are right, my lord.”
“Don’t call me that,” Toru said and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Just call me by my name.”
“As you wish.” Beanstalk inclined his head in a courteous manner.
“Do you know where Niverborg is?” Duril asked what he thought to be the next most sensible question.
Beanstalk looked over his shoulder at the bookshelves. “Niverborg was never one of the hidden places,” he said thoughtfully. “Only that we haven’t heard from there in a very long time. From the bits and pieces brought to us by travelers from all over the world, we thought it to have been destroyed.”
“By Hekastfet?”
“We could not be sure, but yes. We are bound to this place, as I told you, and that means that we don’t see with our own eyes what happens beyond the outskirts of Scercendusa. Still, we have our means to find out. We listen to the earth and the wind.”
Those last words reminded Duril of Shearah. In a way, he felt bonded to everyone they had met along the way, and that was especially true about the mystical beings they had encountered. He wanted to ask Beanstalk if he knew of her, but this wasn’t about the things he desired, but about Toru’s need to find a way toward his place of origin.
“About Nelsikkar,” Toru reminded the Sakka.
“Of course.” Beanstalk leaned over the tome and placed his finger at the top of the page again. “Nelsikkar,” he began reciting, “has grown on blessed grounds. Here, people say, waters are the sweetest, and trees carry fruit, regardless of season.”
“I remember that,” Toru interrupted. “There were so many trees everywhere. And they had fruit, even in winter. Although, winters in Nelsikkar were always mild.”
“Could it be a place located more to the south?” Duril wondered.
“Tigers like heat. Not all of them,” Beanstalk said.
“There are also my father’s people who live--” Toru stopped for a moment. “Who lived in the mountains. I like fair weather, but I’m not scared of cold.”
“That must be your father’s blood, running through your veins,” Beanstalk said, while nodding thoughtfully. “Nelsikkar,” he continued, “is said to rise between two arms of the same river that split and come together again further up toward the forests.”
“What forests?” Toru asked. “Does it say there? And who wrote about it?”
“We all did,” Beanstalk explained. “Whatever one of us found out, we came here to write down.”
It was an astonishing fact in itself that the Sakka could all have the same neat writing. It had to be because of the common consciousness they seemed to share. Duril was curious about it all, but even more about what the ancient tome could tell them about the place Toru had come from. “Are there any detailed maps of Eawirith, here in the city?” he asked.
“There are,” Beanstalk replied. “We’ve also searched for such places where a river would split in two and then reunite. We haven’t found it, at least not drawn on a map. But we will supply you with everything you need so that you can see it for yourself. Your keen eyes might discover clues where we’ve failed before.”
Duril doubted there was anything ever treated lightly by these tiny beings with memories of millennia and noble tasks hanging on their shoulders. However, it was ever worth looking at things with a fresh pair of eyes or more. Maybe they could read a map in a different way.
Beanstalk continued to read from his tome. “Olliandran’s seat of power is, therefore, isolated from the world. Only tigers belonging to the tribe can cross the rapid waters of the river.”
“What is the river called?” Duril inquired.
“One arm is called Jade, the other Gold,” Beanstalk explained. He looked the page up and down, and then his gaze turned inward. A frown deepened between his eyes. “I don’t see the name of the river anywhere. And I don’t remember it, either.” He appeared slightly confused by that discovery.
“Is it possible that no one ever told you its name?” Duril offered an explanation.
Beanstalk shook his head in denial. “That is hardly possible… could it be that whoever learned about it didn’t write it down?” The last words were mostly said to himself. He continued to shake his head, this time in undisguised frustration.
Such an oversight seemed unusual for any of the Sakka. Duril leaned over and stared at the page, even if he didn’t understand the language and couldn’t tell if something was amiss or not. Still, something caught his eye when Beanstalk turned the page again. The back of the page was covered in the same neat writing, but Duril quickly realized that something was, indeed, amiss.
And it wasn’t something that had anything to do with understanding the language used. Duril put his finger at the bottom of the page. “Is this sentence unfinished?” The following page started with a new paragraph.
Beanstalk’s eyes quickly followed his pointing finger. “You’re right, master healer. But that means--” He stopped and moved his finger along the page, close to the interior edge. “There is no page missing. And I recognize most of the knowledge written in here. Most of it I can recall in my sleep. But this…” he followed again the unfinished paragraph. “This is the most unusual. Someone must have wiped a line of writing. The last on the page.”
“Who could have done it?” Duril asked.
Toru nodded, too. “I’d like to know, as well.”
“Whoever did wipe the line did so with magic,” Beanstalk murmured as he moved his face close to the page as if he was talking to it. “This is no usual wipe. The ink was returned back to the bottle,” he added with a hint of surprise in his voice.
“Is such magic in the power of the Sakka?” Toru asked.
“No, and we all know each other. Someone must have come in here, without our knowledge.” Beanstalk now looked disturbed.
“Could it have been Hekastfet?” Toru intervened again.
“Yes, it could have. He only grew smarter and more cunning with each millennia,” Beanstalk explained. “And that must be how he could reach Nelsikkar.”
“The man without a face,” Toru exclaimed. “There was someone like that when I was forced to leave the place, along with the other people of my tribe. When mother and father left to wage war against Hekastfet.”
Beanstalk was stunned. He leaned back in his chair, with a bewildered expression on his face. “We failed you, my lord,” he whispered.
“It wasn’t you,” Toru said in an calming voice. Duril was prouder and prouder of him. The young tiger was proving not only brave and fearless, but also wise, as more and more things happened and he made happen. “And he didn’t succeed. Not completely. If there is something of Nelsikkar that still remains, I will find it. But you were saying something about how only tigers could cross the river. I remember merchants and other people coming. How did they cross the river? And didn’t they know the location of Nelsikkar? Maybe the information is written elsewhere, if not in your tome. Who knows? Maybe there’s a merchant somewhere who remembers how to get there.”
Duril could tell that Toru was getting more and more excited about the possibility. He had to admit that it was an idea that couldn’t be overlooked.
“There were people allowed to come into Nelsikkar, yes,” Beanstalk confirmed. “But I’m sure they all said the same thing…” He let his words fade, as he began to look through the text. “Oh, yes, this is where it is. It says here: Going into Nelsikkar is like following a path to nowhere. Merchants and other people who visited Olliandran’s majestic seat of power all say the same thing. That after they are marked with the sign of the powerful tribe, they embark on a journey like no other. They travel by boat, but they don’t cross a river. They describe it as if they had been traveling through a thick fog. They also say that there are tigershifters guarding these crossing points, and only with them at their posts they can get to the other side. Yet, when they arrive, the weather is the fairest they have ever witnessed, and the fog is no more.”
“That messenger of Hekastfet, he must have known how to fool those guardians,” Toru said in a whisper. “Do you believe that there are traces of Hekastfet still left in the world, Bean? That some of his acolytes might still be out there?”
“Evil never disappears completely from the world.” Beanstalk sounded wise as he pronounced those words. “But what came of Hekastfet is no more.”
“That’s too bad,” Toru said with a frustrated huff. “I would have chased them down to the last one. What else is said there about this path to nowhere?”
“These are the accounts taken from travelers that we, the Sakka, met throughout centuries. There were long periods of time when there was peace that we didn’t hear of Nelsikkar at all. So, it wasn’t that unusual. Until after the last tiger before Toru came, and no matter how much we searched for any signs that the place was still there, we couldn’t find any. Until Toru came to Scercendusa, we didn’t know for sure whether all this quiet was the result of Hekastfet being inactive or because no one could come from there anymore. We’ve lived through uncertain times.”
“But what about my parents? Did they fight here?”
Beanstalk considered his next words carefully. “We felt their presence, yes. But we weren’t witnesses to what happened. Hekastfet must have use trickery to enslave them. We didn’t have a bond with them, like we do with Toru.”
“They walked into a trap,” Toru said slowly. “What else can you tell us from the pages you have on Nelsikkar?”
“The population of tigers can be numbered in several thousands,” Beanstalk continued to read. “They are a proud tribe and noble. Conflicts are settled through a ceremonial fight. No one is ever killed during these confrontations, and the defeated must pay his or her respects to the champion. There are many other wonderful things that are peculiar and pertain only to this place, such as an incredible display of cured meat recipes that only the people working in the kitchens at the palace know how to make.”
“That’s good to hear,” Toru said and nodded. “I knew all my hunger for meat had to come from somewhere.”
Duril began scribbling down all the important details Beanstalk gave them. They would surely serve them later in their quest to find Nelsikkar.
***
Toru couldn’t say that he was too happy with what they had learned from the Sakka. Beanstalk wanted to help them, yes, but it looked like not even he, with all his knowledge, could direct them to a clear path that would lead them to Nelsikkar.
“What do you make of it, Duril? About this path to nowhere? Could it be that my parents’ palace and my place of birth are not even on the face of this world?”
“It did cross my mind for a while, but I don’t think that’s true. And there are two possibilities that I’m seeing,” Duril replied. “If Nelsikkar is still alive and thriving, then that means that there are tigers there. If we get close, they must feel you, or you them.”
“I’ve traveled to many places,” Toru pointed out. “What if I stumbled upon it by accident, and I didn’t even know it?”
“I don’t think that’s possible. I think you would have known it in your heart, despite your mind not remembering it.”
“But if there are tigers there, who’s leading them? What are they doing? Do they even know I exist?”
“Allow me to explain what my thoughts are. The fog, the path to nowhere, these are things that must have been sustained by the tigers. They are the ones protecting the place. So, if it’s still there, and there are tigers living in Nelsikkar still, that’s ideal. Why they don’t know you or remember you, that’s a mystery waiting to be solved. The other possibility is that,” Duril stopped and sighed for a moment, “it was, indeed, destroyed. Maybe the tigers from your tribe scattered all over the world. And no one is there to keep the fog up.”
“Which means,” Toru concluded, “that we should at least find ruins and things like that, right?”
“That’s what I’m thinking, yes,” Duril confirmed. “Either way, we must find it. And Toru, know this, even if you find the place in ruins, it doesn’t mean that your tribe is no more. From what you told me, the messenger of Hekastfet was after you. Maybe the others just continued their trip and found a new home in Niverborg, with your father’s people.”
“So, we must reach Niverborg, after all.”
“Beanstalk helped me transcribe the pages describing Niverborg and its location. I’d say that it’s a good thing that we’re heading for The Scarlet Peaks anyway. Niverborg is on the other side of the mountain.”
“I would like to see the hermit first. He can tell us the fastest way to Niverborg, too, don’t you think?”
“We will do just as you wish, Toru. It is your quest, and we’re coming with you because we believe in you. I would love to meet your father’s people.”
“If they are still there,” Toru said and let his eyes wander over the streets of the city he had saved, but to which he still remained a stranger. A new hunger was born in his heart, a hunger for a home.
TBC
