Snow, Fire, Sword Page 4

  The dukun did not turn around, but the betchar driver must have heard them, for he looked over his shoulder at them. He was a small, wizened man, with little, narrow eyes. He looked at them and smiled. His eyes seemed suddenly to grow, to change from brown to red, his lips to stretch wide, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth. Dewi and Adi froze in their tracks. There was a malevolent power as deep as it was inexplicable in the betchar driver’s unnatural red eyes: It mesmerized and paralyzed them so that for a few crucial seconds they were unable to move, only stare after the betchar as it went up the street and around the corner.

  Not once during all this time did the dukun turn his head. By this, and what they now realized was his unnaturally stiff posture, Dewi and Adi knew he had been bewitched and could not move or speak, any more than they could. It was only when the betchar had vanished around the corner that they regained control of their bodies.

  “What was that?” gasped Adi, shaking. Dewi shook her head, baffled. “Whatever it was, we’ve got to follow. This time, I’m not going to stand by and do nothing!” Adi suited action to words, taking off down the street, in the direction the betchar had gone. Shock and fear had numbed Dewi completely. Her father had said not to leave the guesthouse. He’d told them to stay safe. And anyway, they’d never catch up with that thing, that demonic betchar driver. She suddenly remembered something else her father had said, about the thing that would protect them. Heart pounding, she pulled out the banknotes and unrolled them carefully—there, in the middle of the roll, was a strange small, sharp, curved object the size of a fingernail. Her stomach gave a lurch. She knew at once what it was. A claw. A tiger’s claw. Her father’s own talisman, preciously kept. Tears filled her eyes. He had given her his own protection! The numbness drained away. She must be worthy of his trust, she must, she must!

  She set off after Adi. Rounding the corner of the next street, she caught up with him; he had come to a standstill.

  “Can’t see it at all,” he panted. “The betchar’s vanished completely.”

  The betchar must indeed have been an otherworldly vehicle, for it wasn’t easy for a normal vehicle to move in this crowded street, the main gold sellers’ alley. The gold dealers had set out their wares on long wooden tables in front of their shop doorways and were doing brisk business. Most were from the Radenteng people, whose ancestors had come from the mighty empire of Radentengan, far to the north of Jayangan, centuries before.

  Adi and Dewi fought their way through to a less crowded part of the street, near a rather down-at-heel little gold store called She-Po Gold Market. There was not even a counter outside this one; the dusty little shop looked closed, a bamboo blind drawn across its smeared window. Panting and disheveled, from the vantage point of the shop’s doorstep they looked out over the milling masses. But of course there was nothing to be seen.

  “What can we do now?” Adi wailed.

  “I don’t know.” Dewi took out the tiger’s claw. “Father gave me this,” she said.

  Adi stared at it. “Oh,” he said blankly.

  “It is my father’s talisman. He said it would protect us.”

  “I see,” said Adi gently. Their eyes met. Like Adi’s master, Dewi’s father had sacrificed his own safety to protect them. It was up to Adi and Dewi not to let them down.

  Dewi’s mind was slowly clearing after the shock of what had happened. She said, “That thing—the betchar driver—that wasn’t a hantumu, was it?”

  Adi shook his head. “It certainly didn’t look like anything I’ve heard about. Though it had eyes like those of ogres or demons in puppet plays.” Jayangan was famous for its puppet plays, in which the forces of good—princes, gods, animals of various sorts—battled the forces of evil, like ogres, giants, demons, and witches. “It certainly was not human,” he added firmly.

  Dewi shivered. “No. It was not. But if it’s a demon, it must be a shape-shifter. Father would never have got into the betchar if he had seen the eyes of that thing.”

  “So how did we see it?” said Adi.

  “I don’t know. Perhaps it chose to show itself to us like that because it wanted to frighten us, to warn us off.”

  “Then it’s probably vanished into another world,” said Adi gravely. Dewi shivered again.

  “There’s only one thing we can do now,” said Adi. “We have to do as my master and your father wanted. We have to go and see the Sultan.”

  “You can’t just walk in there! You have to make an appointment through a Court official. And how are we going to do that? We don’t know anyone there. We are young and unimportant.”

  “We will find an official,” said Adi, squaring his shoulders. “We will ask for an audience. You will see.” He fumbled in his pocket. “I have my master’s card here. Everyone at the palace knows Empu Wesiagi. He is an honored visitor. They will let us in with this.”

  Dewi looked doubtfully at the crumpled business card. “Are you sure?”

  “Well, we can try,” said Adi with a sudden, darting smile. Dewi’s spirits lifted. He was so positive, so determined not to let obstacles stand in his way. She smiled back. “Yes, we can,” she said. “We…”

  Suddenly, Adi’s face changed. He was staring at something up the street. Dewi turned. Coming straight at them through the crowded street, scattering people right and left, were four black-clad men riding on motorbikes. The hantumu! She turned to run, as did Adi, but before they could take a step, they felt hands grabbing them, propelling them back through the dark doorway of the gold shop. Slam went the door, and they were in a hot, close, dimly lit room. A woman’s voice said sharply, “Get down, there. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”

  Hardly daring to breathe, Adi and Dewi did as they were told. Crouching in the darkness, heads down, they couldn’t make out the features or form of the person who had spoken to them. They could see only a pair of very small, indeed tiny, feet in beaded slippers. “Stay there. Do not move, understood?”

  They nodded, without saying a word or looking up. They saw the feet move off, heard the shop door swing shut, something rattling. Then silence.

  SIX

  MINUTES PASSED. All was quiet and dark and peaceful. Adi’s and Dewi’s pulse rates gradually returned to normal. Their eyes became accustomed to the dim light, and they began to make out their surroundings.

  They were in what looked to be a storage room. Boxes and baskets and parcels of various kinds filled the shelves. There were a couple of trunks in a corner of the room, and a big old carved chest in another. The other two corners were curtained-off alcoves. A dusty Nashranee holy picture, of the Lord’s heart surrounded by flames and roses, hung on one wall. Otherwise the room was bare of ornament. There was a not-unpleasant smell in the room, of spices mixed with sandalwood and incense. Light came in only faintly through a half-open door at one end of the room, but the door out to the street was firmly closed.

  Adi whispered, “Dewi, why would a Radenteng gold dealer save us from the hantumu?”

  Dewi shrugged. Before she could reply, a voice, the same voice as before, spoke. “It is safe now. Come out, my son and daughter.”

  They could see the woman clearly now, for she held an oil lamp in one hand. They stared in amazement—their savior was an extraordinary sight. She was indeed a Radenteng, and old, very old, with skin like wrinkled, crushed golden silk. But despite her age, she was dazzlingly beautiful, with deep-set dark eyes that had strange blue glints in their depths. Her silvery hair was in a soft bun clipped with a lovely blue and silver barrette in the shape of a star, with a transparent veil over that. She was dressed in an embroidered long-sleeved blue and green tunic of heavy silk, under which were trousers of the same color, and her tiny feet were perched in the beaded slippers they had first seen. Her hands were very fine, of the same crushed-silk texture as her face, and on her fingers glittered a great many rings. Her nails were long and pointed, and painted a luminescent shade of pearly blue, like mist on water.

  Overcome by this vision, Adi a
nd Dewi could only stare at her for an instant. Adi was the first to speak. “Oh, lady,” he breathed, “you look like the picture of the Lady of Grace in our church in Desagua.”

  The lady smiled. “No, dear Adi, I am not she,” she said in a sweet voice, with the singsong accent of the Radenteng. “I am a wanderer from the spirit world of the Radenteng who has made a modest home here. My name is Kwanyin. Now, you can begin by telling me everything that happened out there. Where is your father, Dewi? I was expecting him too. The Harimauroh sent a message that you were coming together.”

  Dewi and Adi looked at each other, then Dewi rapidly poured out the story. She finished by exclaiming, “But Lady Kwanyin, we did not know you were expecting us. What is our purpose here?”

  Lady Kwanyin smiled. “Is that not a strange question, my child? You have come to Kotabunga to meet me, have you not?”

  Both of them stared at her. She shook her head ruefully. “Oh, dear. I thought you must know. But perhaps the Harimauroh thought it was best this way; that it would protect you. The important thing is that you are here. I am to send you on the first stage of your quest, to find Snow, Fire, Sword.”

  “But we thought…the Sultan…” cried Adi, who couldn’t take his eyes off the beautiful old woman.

  “That must wait. He is not yet willing to believe the full truth. There are more important things to do first, things that will absolutely convince him to act,” said Kwanyin.

  “Lady Kwanyin, my father…” began Dewi.

  “Ah, sadly, my dear, that must wait too.”

  “But, please, where is he? Where did they take him? Will he be safe?”

  “My child, I wish I could tell you for sure, but this is a strange and difficult enemy we face. We cannot see into his motives or ways. That is why we need you to find Snow, Fire, and Sword. Only thus will his true nature be revealed, and we can see ways of defeating him. Only then will the shadow of the hantumu and their master be lifted from the land of Jayangan.”

  “But Lady Kwanyin,” said Adi breathlessly, “why us? Why do you need us to find these things? We do not know what they are, or where to begin to look for them.”

  “My poor children,” said Kwanyin very kindly, “it is indeed a difficult quest you are on. You see, even we spirits do not know precisely what these are. We need you because you are brave and good human beings, like your father, Dewi, and your master, Adi. They have been taken by the dark power, and now it is up to you to step into their shoes. Are you ready to do that?”

  Dewi and Adi looked at each other. Dewi said, “What is it we must do now, Lady Kwanyin?”

  “You will prepare yourselves for the first stage of your quest. You are to go on a journey to the beach of Siluman.”

  “Siluman!” breathed Adi, eyes wide. “But that is the portal to the land of the Queen of the Southern Sea, Rorokidul!”

  “That is correct,” said Kwanyin. “It is the portal to the land of my sister water-spirit, Rorokidul, whose power is much greater than mine in Jayangan. The ocean realm is a place of great knowledge and power, being the element that links the many different lands of the world. That is the reason you should go there. It may be that Rorokidul has more knowledge than other spirits as to the true nature of the things you must find—Snow, Fire, Sword.”

  Dewi said urgently, “But Lady Kwanyin, everybody knows that the realm of Rorokidul is a place where one must exercise great care, that it is dangerous, and that without permission—”

  “You will go to Siluman and see Tuan Gelombang, who guards the portal to Rorokidul’s realm,” said Kwanyin briskly. “You will give him my name and explain that you are under my protection. Like Rorokidul, I am a water-spirit, and she understands my ways. She will honor that protection, and Gelombang will vouch for you. Do not be afraid of that.”

  Adi and Dewi looked at each other. Kwanyin smiled. “I know, my dears, it’s not very much to go on. I wish I could tell you what Snow, Fire, and Sword are, but I can’t—not because I don’t want to, but because I really don’t know. These things must be discovered by humans—we cannot see what they are. Are you ready to take on this quest? Are you ready to trust us, and to help us? We spirits cannot defeat this enemy on our own—and you humans equally cannot defeat him on your own. We are in this together. Will you help, my dears, to find Snow, Fire, Sword and defeat the shadow that threatens to destroy Jayangan?”

  A lump came into Dewi’s throat, and one to Adi’s. They looked deep into Kwanyin’s kind, dark eyes. Together they whispered, “Yes. Oh, yes.”

  Kwanyin beamed and clapped her hands. “Now then, my dears, let’s get you prepared to go to Siluman. There is much to do.”

  She led them to one of the shelves. She opened a box and lifted out from it another box, then another from within it, and another, till she got to two small, hard cases. She snapped one open, and inside lay a ring. It had a golden band, which glistened like sunlight, and in the middle of the band was a ruby as red as blood. “This one is for you, Dewi,” said Kwanyin, and she slipped the ring on the girl’s finger. She snapped open the other little case. There was another ring: a rather heavy one, made of ivory and crystal, inlaid with silver. “This is yours, Adi.” And she slipped the ring on the boy’s finger.

  Marveling, Adi and Dewi looked at the beautiful things sparkling on their fingers. “Oh, Lady Kwanyin,” breathed Dewi, “these are so fine.”

  “From these, and Tuan Gelombang’s words, Rorokidul will know I have sent you.” She surveyed Dewi and Adi critically. “Now, you cannot go dressed as you are, in these flimsy modern things. It does not look serious. Rorokidul is not a modern girl, and of all the Jayangan spirits, she is the one who likes ceremony the most. I fancy you need new clothes.”

  She glided over to one of the baskets and opened it. From it rippled what looked at first like a wave of living red and gold, but as Kwanyin seized hold of it, it resolved itself into a shimmering silk sarong suit of a style Dewi had never seen before. More things came out of the basket then: a coat of red silk overlaid with a gauzy, shimmering golden material; a headdress of gilded leather set with glittering shards of crystal; bracelets of the same gilded and decorated leather; finely worked, flat golden sandals. It was a costume fit for a queen. Dewi’s eyes and heart were full of it, her blood beating fit to burst in her veins. “Am I to wear this?” she whispered.

  Kwanyin smiled. “Who else?” she answered. She turned to Adi. “Now you, my son.” She opened another basket. “I think you will find this to be in the right size.”

  Adi’s clothes were magnificent too—a sarong in a darkly gleaming, thick, rich blue fabric, shot through with strands of gold and silver. It went with a coat made of the same deep, rich stuff, but with golden cuffs and a silver collar. To wear under it was a shirt made of the finest, softest, whitest material, and there was a gorgeous close-fitting silk headdress, of a midnight blue with strands of the same colors as were in the rest of the clothes. Adi gasped when he saw them. He could not keep his eyes off them. Kwanyin smiled and pointed at the curtained-off alcoves. “Go and refresh, and change.”

  As if in a dream, they obeyed her, their arms full of the beautiful things they had been given. The alcoves had not looked big from outside, but they discovered two bathrooms beyond them. In each bathroom was a tall marble tub filled with fragrant cool water that had been strewn with flower petals, and cakes of sweet-smelling soap, and ivory dippers to ladle water over yourself. Beside each bath were lotions, and great soft towels with which to dry, and a mirror, to watch one’s transformation.

  Dewi stood in her bath, ladling sweet water over herself, feeling all the dust and heat and worry of the day wash off her. Even her fear for her father had left her, for Kwanyin had spoken of him as if he were still alive and had suggested that he might yet be saved. Excitement was grabbing hold of her again; she was filled with a sense that she was in a most wonderful adventure.

  “That is good.” Kwanyin nodded her satisfaction as they both stood before her, resplenden
t in their finery, hardly daring to look at each other. They felt almost shy. Dewi no longer looked like a neat schoolgirl but as beautiful and shimmering as a goddess in an old painting, or a princess of long ago, with her long hair rippling down over her gorgeous clothes, and the fine bones of her face accentuated by the golden headdress. And Adi was so straight and tall and handsome in his princely costume, all puppyish awkwardness gone, like a dashing prince in an old story.

  “Are you ready, my children?” Kwanyin’s deep-set eyes were full of a wise, kind laughter, as if she could read their thoughts and understand their feelings.

  “Oh, we are, thank you, Lady Kwanyin,” Adi said, eyes shining like stars. Dewi could not speak. She just nodded solemnly, her heart full of joy.

  “That is good. Now, remember, my dears—not all the spirits you meet will be as direct as I. Most are far greater in power than I am in Jayangan, and are very conscious of the right way in which they must communicate with the human world. You must take care.” She looked deep into their eyes. “Do you understand, my dears?” When they nodded, she went on, “Well then, you must set off for Siluman.”

  They looked at each other, puzzled. Kwanyin smiled. “Don’t look so surprised. It will be an easy journey, for my dear Anda Mangil will take you.”

  “Anda Mangil?” Dewi’s eyes widened in surprise.

  Kwanyin nodded. “Anda Mangil is a good man. I have known him a long time. And he knows the way to the beach of Siluman, as well as Tuan Gelombang.”

  “Oh,” said Dewi weakly. Adi gulped; Dewi could see the Adam’s apple bob in his throat. Kwanyin said, “Now let us summon Anda Mangil,” and she clapped her hands twice, gently, and made a curious little trilling sound in her throat. And suddenly, from somewhere outside, came the familiar sound of Anda Mangil’s car horn.