Chapter 9
The golden citadel
Deep within the jungle, at the foot of the Atronador Heights, there was a certain area where mountains had parted, snapped apart as it were, and a deep rift forged over the ages. La Barranca del Arco Iris, as it was labeled by what few Alpacatan cartographers had seen it: Rainbow Canyon. It was so called because of several waterfalls that dropped down over its jagged sides, lifting a cloud of mist from the bottom that in the afternoon cast an array of colors into the air.
A river knifed through its narrow base, from where the canyon walls were nearly vertical, rising thousands of feet, and populated along its crevices by thousands of birds and their nests. Discovered only in recent years with airplane flyovers, the shadowy canyon offered no safe passage through itself, and over risk of life and limb it was left unexplored. And unbeknownst to the birds, they were, for millennia, the only eyes to have looked closely upon the canyon's secret.
From the map Bagheera had scribbled upon, and from the information collected from the Gatekeeper's tomb, it was where 'X' had marked the spot.
Jesse Richter had one fortunate thing about being accompanied by Shere Khan's pilots. Worthless as they were to him, they had happened upon the tome, dropped by Kit and Karnage in mid air as they plunged from the Iron Vulture. What time Richter had spent years prior learning to read the ancient Felocian language had at once richly paid for itself.
With the relic in his own hands, and no further sign of the pirates, he decided that chasing down Don Karnage could be put aside, and the pirates no longer mattered to him; for the time being― standing on the verge of a discovery he had been waiting a long time to achieve― neither did his employer.
Once he had read through the tome's pages, Richter made fast tracks and caught up with Colonels Jackson and Taylor before they had even reached Alpatico City; from there, the pilots had a difficult time keeping up with the grizzly's pace all the way to town, where they had gotten another plane and resupplied. Back in the jungle, Richter parachuted onto a plateau overlooking the canyon, alone, having told the pilots he would see them back in town when he was finished. Inside a large backpack he had supplies to last him a week, and no one to slow him down.
He secured a repelling device at the plateau's edge. Kneeling over to peer at the bottom, he considered how appropriate the canyon was as the roadway to Rhamastan, easy to defend and nearly impossible to invade. He long knew the canyon was there; he could have kicked himself for not imagining what it was before. When he dropped his rope over the ledge, he could not see it half way down over the mist.
He slid down the cliff with more caution than he would rather use, planting each step slowly and carefully. The mesmerizing roar of the waterfalls, and the screeching and fluttering birds everywhere made it difficult to stay focused, while the jutting shards of rock that he scraped over made concentration a must. It did not take long for his fatigues to shred at the knees; by the time he had reached bottom, his hands and knees were bloodied.
He climbed over a river banks made of crushed rock and jagged boulders. The canyon tapered ever the more narrow until the sides met at the end, and there, under a rainbow, shrouded in mist, was the mouth of a cave. It was tall and narrow, carved by ancient craftsmen with straight sides and a pointed arch. Richer readied his flashlight began to laugh, dreaming of the fortune and fame that waited ahead as soon as he cast light on the shadows of the cave. The gates of Rhamastan would be there.
Would they be gigantic? Would they be golden? Actually, stepping into the dark threshold, he was in for more of a surprise than he imagined...
"Borden?!"
They were caught unaware amongst their camping and excavating equipment, Bagheera writing in his journal, Myra thoughtfully studying their surroundings, and Tyler sitting on a duffle bag, chin in palm and deep in problem-solving contemplation. Tyler and Bagheera jumped to their feet. "Jesse! How did you get here?"
"How did you get here?" demanded Richter.
There was many a scandalized glance traded among the three, but then Richter looked over their heads. There was an iron wall, rusted and scarred so heavily that it much resembled the rough texture of the rocky walls that made the cave. It appeared pieced together sheet by sheet, shoddily. There were shallow, unfinished tunnels burrowed into the cave next to it. The ground before the iron wall was curiously different; while the rest of the cave was solid rock, the ground was made of broken down rubble, not strewn but packed as if filling a pit.
Myra adjusted her glasses, looking Richter over from head to toe. "That's the one working for Khan?" she whispered to Tyler.
Richter let his backpack fall to the ground, his flashlight held only loosely at his fingertips. He seemed to momentarily forget about the others standing with him, and gazed at the iron wall with much puzzlement, if even disappointment. "This... it?"
"Well, it is what it is," sighed Bagheera. "And it's no gate. It's bloody tattooed to the cave. There are no latches, no hinges, no means of opening."
"That's not meant to be opened at all," Tyler said, doggedly starting at Richter. "I wonder if you can break into a fortress as readily as you break into planes."
"Aw, give it a rest, Borden," Richter groaned. "I'm under contract. I had a job to do."
"And how is that going, taking orders from a snake in the grass?"
"I know what Khan is," the grizzly said. "I also know I wouldn't be sitting here this close to Rhamastan with my thumb up my― !"
"Gentlemen!" Bagheera jumped in between the two, holding his hands up to halt the line of verbal crossfire. "I'm actually thinking our meeting here will serve us well. I understand the awkwardness of our situation, but I remind us all that neither Shere Khan nor the chancellor of Oxfurry are present with us. Our interests from this point need be no one's but our own. Therefore, perhaps we might pretend for a moment all that currently stands between us and history's greatest treasure trove is a thirty five-foot door. Since it appears this door will open for nothing short of being blown off its frame, I suggest we pool our resources and achieve what we are here to do."
"In other words, you didn't bring enough dynamite to blow it open," said Richter, dryly.
"Nor did you, I can see," said Bagheera. "Now here we are. Together we might crack this egg."
"I think he's right," said Myra. "I'm not one to take to mix TNT and archeology, but darn it, I want to see what's on the other side!"
"Well, it's been a long time coming," Richter said to Tyler. "Khan ain't here. I'll settle for a truce."
Tyler nodded. "Fine, then, for now. Let's get our hands dirty and open this bloody thing."
While Tyler and Myra took up pickaxes, Richter sorted through is supplies and found a bunched set of dynamite sticks. He tossed it to Bagheera, but not without a hard stare.
"What?" asked Bagheera.
"Lake Titicoocoo, huh?"
The crow of the rooster at dawn's first light was a time-honored village tradition for the Felocians to tell when it was time to rise. For the uninitiated pirate, it was the equivalent of flossing his ears with a nail file.
"Will somebody strangle that blasted bird!" cried Karnage from his hammock, pulling the blanket over his face.
"How long is it gonna keep doing that," groaned Kit. "It can't be morning already."
"Not even close."
"It's mor-ning, rise and shine!" sang Rupo from just outside the window. He opened the door and poked his head in. "Good morning, heroes!"
"Start taking names, boy," muttered Karnage. "Put the cheerful gato right underneath the estudid chicken. The bird gets it first."
"How did you two sleep?" asked Rupo.
"Me, with my ears plugged," Kit griped. "It was like sleepin' under a motor boat."
"List yourself above the cheerful gato," said Karnage. "The bird still gets it first."
"The blanket and hammock aren't bad at all, though," Kit added. "Thanks."
"A pleasure, Master Kit," replied Rupo, bowing his head. "But come now, wake up! Breakfast is almost ready, and we have much to do, and a long way to travel."
"How long is a long way?" Kit asked. "Where we goin' from here?"
"We go to Tresierras," said Rupo. "It will be a full day's journey, at least. There are somewhat faster ways to get there, such as hiking straight through the jungle, but perhaps that is not the most desirable option for you. That fastest way would by boat, to take the great river to the coast."
"So, we're boating?"
"We would otherwise, but today it is too risky. This time of year the river is very fast and wild." Then Rupo grinned. "But do you know much about llamas?"
Rupo guided Kit and Karnage through what he considered the safest route to the coastal towns, to traverse the outskirts of the jungle instead of going straight through it. They set off in the morning, with each a saddled llama to ride laden with satchels of supplies, and by midday they were climbing a winding path up a mountain. Rupo took the lead, of course, with Kit and Karnage following behind... at times, very behind.
"How do you work one of these things," complained Karnage. The llama snorted in reply with disfavor. When Karnage wanted it to move to the left, it moved right. When he wanted it to speed up, it slowed down. Presently it was weaving erratically from side to side. And what in the world were those reins supposed to do, anyway? Kit was in the same boat; for whatever reason llamas did what they did about themselves, his steed was precisely following the exact footsteps of Karnage's.
"Don't worry," Rupo called back at them. "They have been this way many times! They know their way!"
"I guess this a little better than walkin'," Kit said. "What do you think we oughta get on our way back, anyway?"
"I am having that all figured out," replied Karnage.
"I figure shovels, food, maybe some rain gear..."
"Pfft, are you thinking we are walking there?"
"Okay, you wanna tell me what you have in mind?"
"How about forty muscle-bound baboons and the Iron Vulture."
"And just how do you think you're gonna get a hold of the Iron Vulture?"
"I am going to send a smoke signal, you pinhead. Will you let me do the thinking?"
Under screeches of high-flying eagles, they came to a grassy plateau stretching from steep green hills. It was the first time in days Kit and Karnage had seen the sunny sky unrestrained by the shadow of giant trees. From there, they were low enough to avoid the freezing winds, and high enough to see over the treetops of the basin, over the breadth of the jungle, and very far out, the shimmering ocean horizon for which they were headed.
Rupo dismounted and waited for the others to catch up. "We should rest here for a little while."
"Stupid hairy moron of a mule," ranted Karnage. He was more than ready to get off, but the llama decided it was going to plot around until it chose where it wanted to stop.
"Come now, show the llama kindness and it will respect you back," said Rupo. "Besides, it is better than walking, is it not?"
Karnage eventually just abandoned ship, pulled his feet from the stirrups and managed to haphazardly roll off the saddle, doing a belly-flop in the grass. "Speak for yourself," he sulked. "I have no feeling in my tail!" The llama snorted again, this time he was pretty sure it was just laughing at him.
Soon they had a blanket spread and at a lunch of bread and fruit packed for them at the village. They sat near the edge of the plateau, where Rupo volunteered many bits of information about the land. "It is a beautiful place when it does not try to kill you," he grinned. "There is a song, an ancient song kept by our elders, that tells when our ancestors saw a fiery star plummet from the sky. It made its mark deep in the earth, here, where the jungle grew, and raised the mighty mountains around it."
He pointed to a nearby mountain, one that was not as high as the others but very broad as strong shoulders, and in the stead of a peak was a shallow caldera wide enough to park the Iron Vulture inside. "That is Mount Seren, the great spirit of might and compassion. It is the largest of all the nation's volcanoes, but even in its most furious eruptions, the lava has always been channeled away from the basin, and..." He glanced at Kit and Karnage, who with him were gazing at the sea of trees as they absently chewed their food, they were clearly not admiring the geography. They were searching, imagining, and inwardly conspiring. "... spared our people. And if Rhamastan could be seen from here, it would have already been found."
"Wh-what makes you say that?" asked Kit.
"I told you, you are like all the others," said Rupo, shaking his head resignedly. "And even if you found it, seriously, what would you do with it, one man and a boy? You think about the gold. But what can I do. I will take you to the city and you will do as you please from there."
"Perhaps now he will shut up about it," Karnage muttered to Kit.
Rupo then added, "But allow me to put your illusion of fortune and fame into perspective..."
Karnage began peeling a banana. "Silly me."
"You have seen my village and our scarce numbers," said Rupo. "It is hard to think that once those standing in this place could see a sprawling kingdom of stone and iron wherever a green leaf now grows. My ancestors used to number this land like the sands of the shore, and yet today, they and everything they ever knew are buried. They faced... extinction. I have no better word for it.
"The reason was Rhamastan. There was always something unnatural about it, something that richly cursed those in its grasp. In the beginning of our history, it was a place to rest the dead... if it had a mind of its own, it intended to stay that way. As the tale goes, as the thousands worked for years in constructing the Ancient Cave into the kings new capital, a slow sickness came over them all, one that eventually killed the king himself. It would grow worse year by year, if not day by day, and decade by decade... the people grew weak, dry as it were... they could no longer bear children. It was like a poison, or a plague, and one by one, an entire generation vanished.
"They said the cruelness of this sickness was that it made them live longer, beyond their natural years, and every day more ill. Rhama himself was an old, old man by the kingdom fell, already having seen as many days to last three lifetimes.
"When the war came to his kingdom, their fate was certain. Rhama betrayed his ally empire and invaded Aridia, bringing upon his people crushing retribution, vastly outnumbered and overpowered. As city after city fell, village after village burned, the Felocians fell back into Rhamastan, and were seiged there, many thousands of them. From whom this account started were the prisoners of war, the women and children spared, those who were left to rebuild and settle the land anew. But from Rhamastan, there was never a survivor heard from, not even when their enemies gave up pursuit and sailed back home.
"When I told you Rhamastan was a death trap, I meant it. I also meant what I said about the varans eating you. In either case, you only need to ask yourself how much gold is truly worth."
"Six hundred dollars a pound by the bar," Karnage quickly answered. At the two inquisitive stares he received, he replied, "What? You need to know these things!"
Rupo began to pack up. "Let's move on," he sighed. "It is still a long way that we must go to Tresierras."
They rode onward uphill between steep, spiring hills, occasionally passing by a grazing wild goat. Muddy bald patches in the grass revealed what remained of the old, rugged path they followed. The eagles circling overhead made Kit wistful to see an airplane again, though he was eager just to see any comfort of home.
"Why don't you guys move out of here," he asked Rupo. "You know, where there's light bulbs and kitchen sinks."
"I tried that!" the cougar replied. "And after many years, I still felt homesick. Your heart knows where your true home is, young one, and that is something you will always have with you, no matter where you are. This is our home, it always has been, and always will." He looked back at Karnage, who was still unable to come to agreeable terms with his steed, and had exhausted himself of any more names to call it at the moment. "You! You speak the language of some of the cities here. Where do you call home?"
"Me? Oh, I have a cozy little place that I like to call mind your own business," said Karnage.
"Humph. Strike a nerve, did I?"
"No, I am just sick of hearing you not shut up your face. You talk about the flowers, you talk about the plants, you talk about the clouds, the rain, the bugs..."
Kit scowled at him. "Why are you such a crab all the time?"
Karnage replied by pointing at himself with his thumb. "Pirate! I don't do good moods."
Rupo suddenly yanked his llama to a halt, causing Kit's to nearly bump into him. "Pirate...?" He looked over Karnage again as if seeing him for the first time, and his observations about the wolf's name and uncontemporary clothing struck a new cord. A wanted poster circulated the previous year in Alpacito came to mind. "I should have known!"
"No no, he said pilot," Kit tried to say, "Pil― what the...!" All three of the llamas suddenly stirred aggressively, catching their riders by surprise; being the more experienced, Rupo managed to hold on atop his saddle, but Kit and Karnage were promptly bucked off and their steeds scattered away in a panic. "They know what a pirate is?!"
As Rupo shouted commands at the llamas, a shadow swiftly brushed over them, and from the sky there was not an eagle's bold shriek, but a loud, terrible squawk. "Condor!" shouted Rupo, diving from his llama to the grass. "Condor! Get down!"
Kit recognized the giant bird by its silhouette against the sun, plump, bald-headed, and just as mangy as he ever remembered. And perhaps the condor remembered him as well, because for him it was diving down with its talons reaching.
As it swooped, Kit fell on his back; the condor grazed his head but missed, its talons ended up plowing into the ground, braking it with a sudden and clumsy roll, pinfeathers over beak.
"Run toward me," Rupo called to Kit and Karnage. "Get away from the ledge!"
No one had much time to react before it was up again, wings outstretched and strutting in a pivot opposite of Kit and Karnage.
Rupo shouted again, "Get away from the ledge! Hurry!"
Karnage bent down in a defensive posture behind Kit. "Quiet, gato! What does this dumb cluck of an overgrown omelette think it will do to do to us, anyway?"
"That 'dumb cluck' is cornering you, you arrogant fool!" yelled Rupo. "You are trapped!"
Karnage tipped a glance behind his heels. There was no more ground, and it was a long, long tumble to the bottom. "Oh."
The condor let loose with another ear-aching squawk, and with a leap and heavy thrust of its wings, darted at speed toward them; they could not move out of the way in time.
The next thing Rupo knew, they had both disappeared, along with the condor. Dread in his thoughts, he haplessly ran to the ledge to see what became of his companions.
The giant condor held Kit by the ankles, and Karnage dangled from Kit, feet kicking and both hands latched to the boy's arms! With much effort and many powerful flaps, the condor took them higher and farther over the jungle, leaving the echoes of two distinct voices hollering together: "Aaaauuugghh!"
Tyler, Richter and the rest stood outside of the cave holding Rhamastan's gate, covered in dust and dirt, coughing, blinking, and for the moment licking the wounds of hurt pride. The good news was their plan had succeeded. Strategically-placed dynamite tipped the massive iron seal on its face. The bad news was much of the cave collapsed with it, sending everyone running for their lives.
"That was a... slightly overlooked consequence, wasn't it," remarked Tyler.
"Not only did I know you were gonna say that," grumbled Richter, "but you were gonna say it like that."
They were four silent and pouting faces, waiting for the dust to settle before they began to climb over the rubble to see what mess lie before them. Eventually, Myra stepped forward, squinting into the dark mouth of the cave. "Guys, I think I see..." She knelt down, holding her hand over her glasses to keep the sun glare away. "I do!"
"What do you see?" asked Bagheera.
"Light!"
Tyler leaned forward and squinted. "By jolly, I think you're right! And― huh?" He looked up, with his pointed fox ears zeroed in to the sky. "I could swear I just heard someone shout for help."
"I can't hold on!" cried Kit. With his ankles in the clutches of the giant condor, his eyes were shut tight. He could not look down anymore, to see Karnage panicked or the height of their impending fall. The wind was blasting and and ice cold, and being stretched from arms to feet, he was in a world of hurt.
Karnage kept faltering to gain a firm grip around Kit's arms. "Exactly who is doing the holding on around here!" He saw that they were high above the large volcano Rupo had pointed out. A fall would have been deadly; they needed the bird to land. With a resolute battle-growl, Karnage rallied his strength and hoisted himself up enough to reach the condor's talon. "Get ready to trade places, boy! Hold on to me!"
Kit grabbed around wildly until he had the Captain around leg.
"You let go, you die!" yelled Karnage. "Understand?"
"What are you gonna do?!"
"Understand?!"
"Yes!"
The pirate snarled in the wind and sunk his teeth into the condor's knuckle. The bird squawked in a fit of pain and quickly turned Kit loose. It went into a spiraling dive, fiercely shaking its feet to drop them. "Hold on, boy!" His voice was cracking and strained. "Hold...!"
Don Karnage had hardly been as inclined to utter a prayer for his life, or consider a moment in his life where he had completely failed at something. That instant he did both. His hands slipped, and they were falling. His back was to the ground, and the promise of a very sudden and deadly stop coming any second, he was terror stricken, though of all things for his thoughts to be trained on, inescapably they were on Kit, for the boy had not let go as if somehow still trusting him to save them.
When they hit the ground, the world went deaf and black to Karnage... but only for a moment. He realized he was alive... and very cold.
He blinked and felt his surroundings, everything was icy slush. "Boy...?"
"You gotta come up with better plans," groaned Kit.
"We... made it," breathed Karnage. He burst into laughter. "Ha ha! I did it! I― uno momento, where the frijoles are we?"
They had plummeted into a large bank of fresh snow high atop a mountain. Kit was wading through it chest-deep, trying to find some means to stand on the surface. "Are you okay? You weren't answering me for a while, I think you passed out."
"Nonsense, boy." Karnage tried climbing out of the silhouette-shaped crater he had made, slipped, and fell on his face. He sprang back up before Kit saw, covering up the imprint of his snout just as a precaution. "I was taking in the victory! Did you see what I did up there?"
"Yeah, and we're gonna be taking in some frozen fur if we don't get out of this mess." Kit looked over Karange's shoulder and saw the giant condor gliding toward them again. "Uh-oh, duck!"
"What duck?"
Kit huddled himself in the snow with his arms over his head. "No, duck!"
"What duck?" Karnage asked again, annoyed.
"Behind you!"
The condor, with an aim as terrible as its face was ugly, missed both of them with its claws and instead plunged beak-first into the same snowbank; the impact knocked them back and sent them tumbling down the mountain.
"That was no duck!" yelled Karnage.
They slid on their stomachs down the slope, until the snow became ice, where to their chagrin and further screaming they fell into a gaping chasm, and from there things had only begun to pick up. They were two self-made toboggans speeding through a hollowed ice tunnel, and after all its wicked bumps, turns and twists, they crashed to a halt against a solid ice wall.
They laid there for a while, arms and legs entirely sprawled, silently contemplating just how exactly they could be any more the brunt of fate's cruel sense of humor.
At length, Karnage offered his synopsis of the situation: "My. Eyebrows. Hurt."
"I hurt in places I can't even imagine," Kit added.
"And now that sounds like the floor cracking," said Karnage. And indeed, the floor was.
"Yup."
"It sounds like it is going to break."
"Yup."
"Of course. Why would it not."
"I bet seven seconds."
"I bet three."
The brittle sheet of frost they lay on shattered to pieces, and they splashed down into another tunnel, this one carrying them along with a rushing stream of water. The end of the tunnel was a waterfall, and they were quickly spewed head-first into a cold pool inside an underground cavern.
Coughing, sputtering, disoriented, and chilled to their bones, they dog-paddled to a dry ledge and crawled on top. The ledge was made of smooth stone-cut bricks, though in the way they felt they had not immediately taken notice. There were more pressing things on their minds.
"When I get back home," Kit panted, "I'm never getting out of bed again."
Head bowed, Karnage sat and gave his brow a hard massage. "I am going to get in my plane and shoot everything!"
"Captain, look!" Kit grabbed him by the arm to take his hands from his eyes. Karnage's chin dropped, for they were in no mere cavern. The ledge they were one was narrow and indiscernibly long, with another ledge just like it on the other side of the water, and above them, giant chandeliers hung with scores of bright, shining crystals.
With much wonder and curiosity, they began to aimlessly walk the length of the structure. "It looks like a... what do you call 'em, brings water to places," Kit said. "An aqueduct, I think."
"Oh no, no more of that!" Karnage suddenly stopped and yanked Kit back to face him. "If you say 'duck' one more time, back for a swim you go!"
For the first time in an age, the threshold of the underground citadel Rhamastan was crossed. Climbing over the rubble left by the explosion, Bagheera led the group inside. All but Richter took their backpacks with them; he made no comment on why he chose to leave his gear outside.
They were in a wide and long hall that sloped downward and curved far down the way. Its walls were cracked severely, but still polished, bevelled with glyphs and symbols, and adorned with countless golden arches through its entire length, each socketed with several bright, glowing crystal orbs that lit the path. Dust was thick, but the air somehow smelled of a rainy spring day.
A steel double door, heavy, thick, and vault-like, lay discarded on its face at the hall's beginning next to its shattered hinges, blown apart by the explorers' dynamite. A peculiar detail they noticed was that it was highly ornate on the back side, bearing symbols depicting the old god Sargon and the namesake of the last Felocian king; they concluded that the scarred and dented iron put on the front of the gate had been put there to barricade the gate from the outside. On the ground where was more packed rubble, and they discerned that there had been a tunnel dug under the gate, which must have been filled to seal it off.
"Looks like the Aridians did break though," Myra said. "But there's gold and firestone here... so far it doesn't look like the took anything. And then they tried to seal it off... 'sealed their doom...'"
"These stones," said Bagheera, "those were the ones just like what I found in the Gatekeeper's tomb! The everlasting light!"
Richter had certainly taken keen notice of the legendary firestone; unlike the others, the awe and wonder present in his eyes quickly faded and the wheels of his mind were turning quickly with calculation. He laughed out loud, but as excitement may express itself through each person differently, the others took no notice. With the back of his fingers, he caressed one of the nearby glowing orbs; it was baseball-sized, cool to the touch, and at a closer look, cut with many faces as fine, sparkling diamonds would be cut for a ring.
With his machete he tried to pry the stone loose, but it was tightly fit and was not about to budge. At that, he became more so determined to pocket it. With one hand he held the knife so its tip was against the stone where it met its gold frame, and with his free hand, with a powerful and deliberate strike, he hammered down on the bottom of his machete...
*BAM!*
"Gah!"
In a sudden explosion and a burst of light, Richter was kicked backward and slammed hard against the wall. The others ducked, it had sounded like a shotgun went off from out of nowhere. When they saw Richter, he was writhing on the ground in a litany of curses.
"J-Jesse!" Tyler was the first to hurry to his side. "Jesse! Speak to me!"
"I'm... I'm all right," Richter coughed. He stilled himself, flat on his back, and looked at his hands, which were tingling so intensely that they were shaking. Bagheera picked up the machete, and found the blade was hot.
"Well you don't look all right." Tyler and Myra took Richter by the shoulders to try to help him up, though 'try' is all they could do. "What on earth was that?"
"The firestone," grumbled Richter. Slowly, he rose to his feet, shrugged the others away and held the wall until he regained his balance. "I should've known better." Half of the stone he tried to remove had shattered, leaving what was once masterfully cut a jagged mess; from what part of the stone had been blown away, there was no residue left, no shards, not so much a speck of dust. "Khan's scientist call it incenderous quartz. One of their samples blew up on 'em when they tried to break it apart. Mess with it the wrong way and it's volatile as hell."
"Yes, yes," Bagheera thought aloud. "When I found the tome, there was firestone in that room, it must have been what caused the explosion. Did they identify the catalyst?"
Richter swiped his machete back from the panther, glowering over him. "Maybe they hit it too hard."
As he felt his bones stop rattling, Richer took a step and quickly favored his left leg, but only by habit, and he was about to air a few choice words about the varan that bit him, as had become his custom to do whenever the wound suddenly stung him, but he noticed something peculiar... his leg no longer hurt. For good measure, he stamped down three times with his foot. "Whaddaya know..."
"Are you sure you're all right?" asked Tyler.
"That's just it," Richter replied, and glanced over the other nearby firestone orbs with new discovery. "I never felt better."
At the base of the hall, their path turned into a wide stair and a finely-fitted brick road, meandering into a vast mountain cavern. It was bright as day and teeming with a vibrant garden: tall redwood trees and lush plants with giant, fanning leaves and glowing purple bulbs thrived abundantly, from the ground where they made their own forest to the high cliffs where their vines poured over ancient balconies fixed in the cavern wall. The firestone was everywhere, scattered across the ceiling as stars on a moonless night, and embedded in the walls and foliage. It was all very still, not a whisper of a breeze, like standing in a living photograph; a trickling stream was heard from somewhere, but not seen.
"My heaven, it's beautiful," a wide-eyed Bagheera smiled. In the center of the cavern, standing with the towering trees, was a great golden statue of a robed lioness with a vase wrapped in her arms, tipping it as to water the soil below.
"It's a bit disturbing," said Tyler. "Overall amazing, granted; but disturbing."
"I know," agreed Myra. "It's like walking into another world, a world without shadows."
"Yes, there is that," said Tyler. "But I'm referring to the chaps on the ground."
Amidst the inspiring beauty laid the grotesque. There were hundreds of soldiers from an ancient day, strewn across the cavern, hidden in the foliage, still donning their battle armor, most still with their swords and spears. The group stepped off the stairs and ventured to take a closer look at a nearby cluster of the withered corpses.
"I guess that answers the question," said Richter. "The Aridians fled because the Felocians brought 'em to a standstill battle here."
"That can't be right at all," replied Myra.
"Your glasses fogged?" snorted Richter. "It's wall-to-wall stiffs."
"I can see very well, thanks," scowled Myra. "Like I can see that none of these people are wearing Aridian armor."
"She's right," said Bagheera. "Seems they're all wearing old Felocian gear."
Richter turned from the rest and knelt beside one of the fallen soldiers, who was missing his body below his chest. The metallic torso armor was cut, pinched through as a bolt cutter snaps a chain. From under the iron helm, he could see tiger-striped fur of the soldier's neck. "They're not even skeletons," he mused. "They oughta be dust by now, something's kept them preserved." He gave the soldier's helm a small jostle, and the head snapped off altogether. Preserved as they appeared, the bodies were as dry and brittle as autumn leaves.
"Take a gander at these poor saps over here," Bagheera said from nearby. "And over there... bloody, you can still practically smell the soot. Most of these boys were burned alive or mangled to pieces. What on earth did the Aridians do to them?"
"They'd have a helluva weapon," Richter said. "Don't know what, but damn well effective."
"If the Aridians possessed a weapon that could do all this, there would have been some mention of it," said Myra. She thought for a moment and recalled the hieroglyphics from Pharaoh Oporkon's tomb. "They invaded Felocia to take back their belongings, if not to exact revenge, and from the look of it, they didn't do either. They had their enemy cornered, outnumbered, sieged the fortress for five years before breaching the gate, and then they about-face and go home with nothing. Doesn't that strike you as terribly suspicious?
"The Aridians wrote that they 'sealed their doom.' I think they meant it literally. Whatever killed these people wasn't the Aridian army, and whatever it was, the Aridians wanted it to stay locked up for good."
Tyler, Bagheera, and Richter shared glances with each other; knowingly, they also shared the same thought.
Bagheera chuckled, half-heartedly. "Come now, gents. It could have been anything. We all know the tribes keep a story of how a sickness took their ancestors. A disease, perhaps poison gasses from underground... anything like that."
"Nothing of the above that would have hewn their bodies as such," said Tyler.
"Well then, here they are, holed up and nowhere to go," said Bagheera. "A madness was their doom; they slaughtered each other with in-fighting."
Myra shook her head. "Your enemy killing each other? The Aridians wouldn't have retreated for that."
Bagheera's tone became much sharper. "A nest of varans, then, overrun by them."
Richter pointed to one of the charred corpses. "Even if varans could take on a legion of soldiers, what cooked 'em?"
"Are we to stand here and dream of every circumstance under the realm of all possibility?" asked Bagheera. "Look, if Sargon himself sprung to life and did all this, it was five thousand very long years ago. Everything in here is dead. Everything."
"How could you not know what I meant," Kit argued. The topic of the hour was still in hot debate as he and Karnage continued to walk along the ancient aqueduct. "It's a quick way of saying 'get your head down'!"
"Then say 'get your head down'!" Karnage shouted back. "All day, I see chickens, then eagles, then condors, then you say that!"
"If I had the time, I woulda drawn you a picture! No, wait, hand puppets!" Kit pursed his fingertips together on both hands and mimicked Karnage's voice for one of them:
'Why hello, Captain Karnage.'
'Allo, bothersome bear. How are you doing it?'
'I'm fine, thanks, but if you just look behind you, I believe there's a giant pigeon that's about to rip your head off."
'Duck? I dun't see no steenking duck! What duck?'
There was a shove, a yelp, and a splash, in that order. "I am nothing if not a pirate of my word," smirked Karnage. He cackled and ran away, dodging the onslaught of splashes aimed for his head.
The aqueduct went on seemingly forever, repetitious in its design, and every so often they passed another channel of water pouring into it from the ceiling. Eventually, it began to curve around in a long arc. The wonder of its decor had worn off on Kit and Karnage, and they trudged forward searching for the first way out... any way out. The thought did not escape that they were destined to walk in a big circle.
In almost an hour, they came to a break in the monotony. To their side, the ledge had opened to a dark chasm, and on the other side was an open archway.
Nearly a dozen tall pillars rose from the shadows of the chasm. They were arranged a few yards apart in line to the other side, and appeared to have had the purpose of supporting a bridge, though there was no sign of one ever being in place. Down below in the shadows, what was very much in place was a bed of tall, narrow spikes.
Kit jumped to the first pillar without any discussion of the wisdom of such a move or where the path might take them; this far along, neither one really cared. Kit made it to the other side and rounded the corner while Karnage was half-way across. "Whoa!" the boy gasped, after crossing through the archway.
"What do you see?" asked Karnage.
"I see... dead people." Kit's voice was but a shocked whisper. "Lots... and lots... of dead people."
Karnage followed just behind and cringed at the sight. There were hundreds of bodies in that one hall alone. Some were laid to rest in hollowed crevices in the walls, those were in either locked in sarcophages or wrapped in fine linens with their arms placed over encased tomes. The rest― the bulk of the count― were unceremoniously dumped on the floor, perhaps because there was no other place to put them. It went on like that as far as they could see, until much further way the end of the catacomb became a ramp that ascended elsewhere.
Kit had his hand up to his mouth, and his breathing was heavy. "I... gotta get out of here. I'm gonna be sick."
The middle of the floor was adorned with glowing diamond-shaped stones, and, being surrounded and covered partially by the dead, they cast a dreadful, eerie shadow upward.
"Easy, boy," said Karnge, and he tiptoed over the corpses. Some still had golden rings and necklaces about their skeletons, and as his fingers itched to take the jewelry for himself, he shuddered at the thought that he might catch something unclean by touching their bearers. Then he noticed that those were left nearest to the firestone were nearly unblemished. They were not anonymous grinning skulls... they were faces. "You seen one, you seen them all... almost."
"But I've never..." Kit gulped, quite audibly, and he kept his sights away from the floor. "I don't know what they're supposed to look like, but some of them don't look like they've been here for that long."
"It is the stones," said Karnage. He knelt on both knees over one of the glowing pieces and put his hands over it. "It kept them like this."
"I think that's firestone. A guy told me about it the other day."
"I know what it is. And what it can do."
Something about the way Karnage said that made Kit start, as memory of the lightning gun flashed in his mind. "What can it do?"
"Is what Shere Khan made the red stone with, and look what that tiny pebble could do! You can imagine, with all of this, no?"
"How did you know about Shere Khan?"
"I had a few pieces of this," said Karnage, tapping the firestone with his finger. "I ransomed them to Khan, and soon he made the red stone. Ah, this one is loose! You have anything in that mystery grab-bag you wear that can get it out?"
"No," said Kit. "I really think we oughta just keep moving. I don't care if the firestone's worth a lot, I hate this room."
"Ah-ha," Karnage exclaimed, prying the stone with his fingers. "I almost have it!" The stone did move, but it moved straight down, slowly and evenly as if being lowered by some mechanism. Don Karnage had been in the treasure hunting business (and treasure stealing racket) for quite some time, and was adequately familiar with 'that feeling' where one knew a trap had just been triggered. "Ehr... oopsie."
"Oopsie?" blinked Kit. "What's oopsie? What'd you do?"
"N-nothing!" Karnage crouched on his toes, ready to jump in half a blink out of anything to suddenly spring from the walls. A few seconds passed, and they heard nor saw anything moving. "You see? No problemo!"
The floor dropped open from right underneath their feet, and down they went.
Kit stirred dazedly, finding himself with his nose planted against rocky ground. For a beat, he thought he was back in the depths of Pirate Island; the air was hot, smokey, and reeked of sulfur. It made his eyes water as he looked for Karnage. He saw that a few of the corpses had fallen with them and shattered into tiny pieces, leaving only their garments intact.
They had tumbled through another chute into a chamber, one that somewhat resembled a frying pan, with a broad circular floor and walls that were barely too tall to climb. Kit heard Karnage behind him, cursing instinctively in Spanish for every bruise accounted for that day. Kit didn't know what he was saying exactly, but agreed nonetheless.
Suddenly Karnage shouted in great pain.
"My gosh," Kit gasped. "Are you― !"
Karnage was on his knees, surrounded by broken pieces of what loosely resembled shattered pottery, though at the moment they took no special observation of it. With a petrified gaze, Karnge looked down at his leggings, stained and dripping wet with dark red. "B-boy," he sputtered, "my... my... l-l..." His stare went cross-eyed and he started to wobble.
"No!" Kit ran to him and helped hold him up before he could toppled over. "I don't know what to do," he said, voice quavering. "We gotta stop the bl― yipe!" As he tried to brace the captain up, Kit's feet slipped on something slimy and he did the splits. Splattered all over the ground was the same goop Karnage had on him. "What a minute, that's not blood!"
"I... I..." Karnage paused in mid-wobble and blinked at the boy. "What?"
"You fell in somethin' gross," Kit said, showing him a handful of the gooey mess before flinging it off. "Yuck!"
Karnage wiggled his knees and feet. He brightened as a new dawn and jumped up. "My lustrious legs are... are...!" Then he frowned, deeply. "Covered in icky-ness again! Why is it me always? Why why why!"
"Forget your icky-ness," Kit scowled. He shoved Karnage, although for the most part he only pushed himself back. "Next time, think before screamin' like that! I thought... I thought you were...!"
"You thought what, boy? That this pirate was about to give his diving swan dirge? Ha!"
Kit glared at him as to burn a hole between his eyes.
"H'okay, h'okay," shrugged Karnage, "So perhaps the thought crossed my mind too."
What Karnage had fallen on was still partly intact, the cracked hollow of half an egg. Kit marveled at its size, for he could have fit inside the shell himself. There were several other eggs of similar size in the area, lined up along the wall, some whole and some cracked, and those had a different look, hardened and pale like cement, thick with fossilized residue that bound them to the ground. They looked like they had been there for a very long time, save for the one that broke Karnage's fall.
To the side of one egg lay curled the skeleton of a creature. Kit took a close look at it while Karnage kicked slime from his boots. It was large and reptilian, but not one of the infamous Atronador varans, as it had longer legs and a slender, nearly serpentine body. Its bones were hollow and almost transparent, except its skull, which had a long jaw with saw-like teeth. Its tail was still inside the egg from which it came; it had not survived for long after hatching.
There was only one exit from the chamber, and as much of the other things they had seen, it was crafted, not a natural formation, an archway that led to an outside path, and a ramp of gray stone and iron, wrought into the red wall of an enormous cavern. It walked them steeply upward, below them the cavern was laden with white steam, and at times, when the thick fogs had parted, they could see in some measure the very bottom, glowing sulfur pools of a sapphire hue and veins of bright red magma.
"It looked like a dinosaur," said Kit, musing about the skeleton. "But they'd have to have been there forever, right?"
"Never mind it for now," said Karnage miserably, his boots still sloshing. They had just spotted, at the end of the ramp, a tunnel that went through the cavern wall. "We are almost out of this stinking hole in the ground."
"But the one you fell on... it was... fresh," said Kit. He stopped and looked into the distance, where the blurry but vibrant web of magma stretched out hundreds of yards, until the steam and darkness overwhelmed all else. A heavy shadow stirred in the low-lying clouds.
"Holy smokin' lava," croaked Kit. He began to back up.
"We are near a volcano, what do you expect," said Karnage, brushing past the boy without pause.
"There's somethin' down there!" Kit was about to go full sprint to the tunnel, but charged into Karnage's leg and sent them both stumbling.
"What are you trying to do, boy?" seethed Karnage. "Crawl in my pocket?" There was a low murmur that made the ground shake, making Karnage wish, for that matter, there was a pocket he could hide in. "What... did you see?"
Kit stammered to find the words. "Big... big...!" He threw his arms out wide to aid the description.
They peered over the ledge. The shadow had moved at great speed, planting such heavy steps that they could hear the crumbling of the rocky ground far below. In an instant it had raised its head them and met them at eye level... a dragon.
They were merely a few yards from his fanged maw, frozen in its scalding breath by a most terrified dread. It was an immense beast, either of its flared nostrils as tall as Karnage. It blinked at them with shining jet eyes; its flesh was black, scaly, scarred, and calloused, and it had two great horns swept back on either side of its crown, and two more jutting saber-like from under the contours of its jaw.
It took two long sniffs and narrowed its eyes on Karnage, growling, and let out a steaming huff that blew their fur back. Then it reared its head backward, inhaling deeply, and threw open its massive webbed wings to their full length, blotting the cavern in darkness, and the sudden gust roaring as if the air itself had been ripped apart.
In that brief instant of respite, for anyone to shout 'run!' by then seemed pointless. Pirate and cub bolted up the bridge and into the tunnel, where a bright and scorching wall of pure flame crashed at their heels.
They ran until their feet were suddenly pedaling nothing but air, and they tumbled into a silver chamber with many pillars large statues of guards in heavy armor, and many great forges that were long cold and dark. They took refuge behind one of the pillars, haunted by the roars and tremors that carried into the room, and for what room they were in they did not care, only the next route far, far away from where they had just come.
"Im-poss-ible," wheezed Karnage, his hands clutched over his brow; if he was losing his mind, he didn't want it to get very far. He turned and shook his fists toward the tunnel and all the abysmal racket coming from it. "There is no such thing as dragons!"
Kit slid to a seat against the pillar; he clasped his chest and swallowed, his heart pounding in his ears. "That's not gonna make it go away!"
There was a giant thud, and pieces of the wall began to crumble and fall. It was followed promptly by another thud.
"It cannot..." said Karnage. "Not through the wall!"
The next impact brought about a riveting quake, and the cracks in the wall came together into a fissure…
"Yes, my dear friends... and Mr. Richter," said Bagheera, jogging ahead of the group with his hands reached out in praise of the luster surrounding them. "I give you the golden city of Rhamastan!"
Delving ever further, they had ventured into the main court of the ancient stronghold, and beheld the sight of the legend they had only ever imagined. It was built as a massive ring and was tall as a skyscraper, such as looking at the wall of a giant round tower from the inside. The outermost wall was several stories of squared pillars and arches stacked on top of each other, housing a broad circle of balconies, stairs, ladders, and dwellings hollowed from the cavern. How far all the rooms and passages went beyond the doors and balconies, only their imaginations could conceive. Almost every crafted surface was shining gold, and that which was not appeared not to have been finished; scaffolds laid in ruined heaps in many places.
The road before the explorers went ahead straight, laid in granite bricks with utmost precision, as there was not a crack between the bricks large enough to allow a young blade of grass. Bordering the road were an array of marble pillars, each serving as the base for statues of a robed Felocian figures, their immortal images posed head high with pride and boldness.
At length the road became a circle around the centerpiece of all, a mighty stepped ziggurat temple, surrounded thickly by a garden of the giant-leafed plants and golden gazebos. A single path, smothered to a narrow line in the foliage, led to the temple's gates betwixt two stairs that climbed to an open terrace at the top. The large two-door gate was open, though left only partly ajar on its hinges.
The firestone was ample, in this area socketed symmetrically across the span of the looming, free-standing dome that made up the ceiling; at the very center, there was a massive cluster of the crystals that together shined nearly as bright as the sun. Also ample were the fallen Felocians, but those they tried to overlook, having made a pact for the time being to consider their good fortune at hand rather than mysteries they could not solve.
"These don't look like any old hovels," said Myra. She dashed to the outer ring and went inside one of the doorways. "I'm going to have a look. You guys go on if you want, I won't be long!"
With no announcement of intention, Richter walked ahead of the rest, toward the temple. With his head straight forward, he gave the others behind him no clue to how he was darting his eyes to and fro, smirking. Bagheera and Tyler was more inclined to go Richter's way, toward what was conceivably the more significant find, but Bagheera noticed noticed Tyler lingering, uncertain of himself, glancing back at Myra's direction.
"Why don't you go with her?" asked Bagheera. "See if you can find any good knick-knacks to take along. Perhaps give yourself a moment to say a few things."
Tyler gestured at him to keep his voice down. "I hardly think this is the time or place."
"Which makes it perfect, because that time or place will never come. It's embarrassingly obvious you're thinking about asking her out every ten seconds, anyhow."
"I've been doing quite well thus far keeping my thoughts on the task at hand," said Tyler, eliciting a roll of the eyes from Bagheera. "I can't just blurt it out like some lecher!"
"Have mercy on me and get it off your chest so we can move on." Bagheera took his friend by the shoulders, pointed him toward Myra, and helped him along with a little shove. "I won't get too far ahead. Let me know what you find!"
"But... but...!"
"Doctor Myra," yelled Bagheera. "Tyler will be in to lend you a hand!"
"Great!" she replied.
Tyler gave Bagheera a scowl that inquired whether or not the panther would like to wake up with his whiskers tied in a knot. As he went into the room, there was heard a distant noise that sounded like the earth was groaning lowly. A soft tremor passed through the walls.
Myra swung her head back to look at him. She was on her hands and knees, sifting through a clutter of tools and crafts. "That didn't sound good."
"But it wasn't me!" said Tyler, which quickly embarrassed himself. He cleared his throat and started over. "We're near Mount Seren and all her little sisters. There's bound to be a geological hiccup now and then, but by the looks of it nothing this place can't handle."
"Reasonable," grinned Myra. "That's what I like about you."
In stark contrast to the court outside, the room was dim and dusty, with only what light shone through its door to reveal its interior. There was a slab cut from a halved tree trunk with tattered wool mat that may have been a bed. The floor was the smoothed mountain rock, but its walls were of timber, and there was a brick stove and a pedestal with a half-finished sculpture; the bottom was still mostly a square marble brick, and at the top was chiseled the shoulders and mane recognizable to those present as the likeness of King Rhama, though the face was smashed away. The heavy mace which was wielded in the act still lay next to the pedestal.
Tyler picked up a gold figurine that glittered at his feet and took it by the door for a better look. It was of a miniature dragon. "This is a keeper," he thought aloud.
"Not in all of Aridia have I seen so much gold," said Myra. She picked up a wooden mannequin adorned with gold-beaded necklaces. "Almost everything, everywhere. They must have smelted it by the ton."
"I'm not sure we've even seen it all yet," said Tyler. "The bloke staying here must've been quite the active artist." He dropped his backpack, unrolled a duffle bag from it, and started stuffing it with all the knickknacks he could fit. Myra soon joined him; there was an abundance of small items, vases, statuettes, and jewelry. After a moment, Tyler paused and picked up the dragon figurine once more; he had a gleam in his eye like he had just found his best friend. He would put it in the bag last, so he could bring it out first.
"I know that look," said Myra. "When you work to discover something for so long... I felt the same way when King Tuut's tomb was uncovered."
"Indeed." Tyler's spoke quietly and timidly. "I'm... I'm watching my own hands move, and I still almost can't believe they're doing what they are. In all the excitement, I guess it's just not struck me until now. I'm here."
"I'm glad I could share it with you."
Tyler's heartbeat went up a notch, and a wave of confidence washed upon him as he noted he was able to express himself while stifling the twitterpated stuttering. He saw an opening for conversation and went for it. "You know, we've been so busy, I've hardly had a chance to say hello to you. I hope I haven't come off rude." So far, so good, he thought.
"Not at all," said Myra. "We have been busy."
"Wh-what has it been, nearly two years now?"
"Nearly, yes."
"You look good," he said suddenly. He was quick to add, "I'm sorry! That was terribly forward."
"You're still a sweetie," Myra giggled. "You look like you've been doing well, too!"
"Yes, well, I've been avoiding food from Pango-Pango."
While he chuckled at his own joke, Myra nodded matter-of-factly. "Oh, good!"
Tyler blushed deeply. He was quickly back to the dragon figurine, nervously fidgeting more than anything else. But alas, like a ray of sunshine pouring through a dark cloud, the charmed words had suddenly come to him. In swift decision he puffed his chest and drew the nerve to put his past embarrassment aside and ask Myra to dinner.
'You know, I would very much like to take you out to dinner again, to make up for the last time. Perhaps a little dancing afterward. No monkey business, mind you, just two like-minded people having a bit of fun and getting to know each other a little better.' That was what he wanted to say, in any event. What actually came out was, "Uh... you fun dinner?"
Myra blinked. "Beg your pardon?"
Tyler's lips felt numb; he tried to offer a quick apology, but all that came out was "Blip blub!" He grabbed his muzzle with both hands before he could utter anything further.
"Are you okay?"
"Sinuses," sniffled Tyler.
"Goodness," she replied. "Say, I have an idea. When things have relaxed a bit, why don't we give dinner another go? You know, like old times."
The gray fox brightened and nodded, though he somehow could not yet part hand and mouth. "I'd endoy dat!" When he realized what he was doing, he whisked his hands away, behind his back, and smiled sheepishly. "I mean, I'd like that, Myra. I... I think you're a very fascinating person, and... and... what I mean to say, is..." He stepped in front of her and took both her hands into his. "Quite lovely in every way."
Her surprised eyes widened over the frame of her glasses. They looked at each other for a moment, speechless.
"Say something, please," said Tyler though the teeth of his smile. "I'm terrified and can't move."
Just then, Bagheera burst into the room. "Will you two singing lovebirds save it for later! Come look at this!"
Tyler glared at him murderously. "Are you bloody kidding me?"
Myra slipped her hands away from Tyler's and stepped back. "Gosh, I don't know what to say! I never knew. I...!"
"Post haste!" interrupted Bagheera, with a tone of urgency. There was another quake and distant roar, much noticeably of greater magnitude than the first. Bagheera ran out, shouting, "Come to the temple! Up the top!"
Myra began to pick up their belongings. "We should hurry, I think. We can talk later, can't we?"
"Y-yes, yes, of course," murmured Tyler. He couldn't look at her. While he picked up the duffle bag, his eyes stayed on the floor, searching for a hole big enough to bury his head.
The terrace at the top of the ziggurat offered the best view overlooking the entire court, and it was where Richter and Bagheera had gone first to catch a more thorough look of their surroundings. It was from there they saw the far reaches of the cavern, behind the ziggurat, where the brick road succumbed to a field of black ash, and an uncovered grave for a great multitude of Felocian soldiers.
By the time Tyler and Myra had reached the temple's stairs, Richter and Bagheera were stepping down, their footsteps heavy and faces long.
"I take it you've heard those murmurs," said Bagheera. "I don't know if they're seismic, or something else..."
"We know what snuffed 'em," added Richter, grimly.
Bagheera offered no immediate explanation to what they had seen, and beckoned Tyler and Myra to follow them around the temple to see for themselves. They pushed their way through the dense plants, coming at last to the ash field. At the end was yet another cave, its mouth nearly a football field in size, but this was blocked at one time; part of a massive iron wall still stood on the edge of the opening, supported from the ground with an array of leaning buttresses, meant to solidify a barricade against the other side. The rest of the wall lay fallen in giant slabs.
Then there were the soldiers, a legion of them, and the telling sight of their demise. They shared their resting place with their adversary, dozens of winged, scaly beasts that sprouted with the swarm of spears, swords, and arrows by which they were eventually killed.
Tyler thought of the figurine, and how so similarly it resembled the creatures. "Dragons?"
"It would seem legend of Sargon was conceived on more than imagination," said Bagheera.
They gathered around the nearest dragon, prodding it with their toes and caressing its shriveled skin with much caution, as it crumbled to the touch, and so staggered were they that there still seemed no guarantee that the creature was not going to spring up and feast on them. By their recognition it was five yards long from nose to tip of tail.
"Sargon is everywhere on Felocian craft," said Bagheera. "Much larger, much more defined."
Myra took note of two horns protruding from the creature's head, which were mere bumps. "It looks... well, young. If Sargon was based on these monsters, could it be there were larger ones of their kind..."
From the cave, thundering echoes sounded like the roar of an entire forest blaze, and the noise did not cease. None could attest to a known natural phenomena that would cause such clamor, and the purpose of the iron wall became dreadfully apparent.
"If anyone recalls me saying 'everything here is dead,'" said Bagheera, stepping back, "I would not, at this point, be insulted for further argument."
"We don't know what that is," said Richter. "Relax."
"We know what we're all thinking," replied Bagheera. "It's time to decide promptly just how much faith we're going to give to Felocian mythology. Sargon was immortal... if these creatures could somehow survive down here..."
"Sargon didn't have kids," Richter said abruptly. "And he was a god, an idea inside somebody's screwed-up mind that everyone believed in. These lizards may have cut loose and waylaid these saps, but you said it right the first time: five thousand years ago, nothing's gonna live that long."
"I know what I said. Just consider the gardens, the city of gold... the firestone. Everything thus far is true to legend. If that stays true for us, to this extent, we may all be subject to the same fate dealt to my ancestors here. If there are living beasts in here like these..."
"I think, given what we don't know right now, we should leave and discuss it outside," said Tyler.
"I'll go with that," Myra said. "Better to err on the side of caution, if anything."
"And what do you think, Richter?" asked Bagheera.
"I think I want to find the king." The big bear brushed past them, crushing the head of the dragon underneath his boot. He headed back to the temple, waving them off. "You guys go discuss and err on the side of caution."
"How could you ever work with that creep," huffed Myra, once Richter was out of earshot. "I've seen undead mummies with better personalities."
"I know, I know," Tyler sighed. "But he's made our choice for us, hasn't he? It seems we could possibly run into a nest of dragons, or we can definitely surrender the discovery of Rhama's tomb to him."
The passage behind the temple's gates was cold, dark, and bare. For the first time since their arrival, the explorers had to rely on their flashlights, traversing a long hall that descended not into the structure itself, but below to a whole other level underneath the ziggurat and its courtyard. They afforded close attention to where they stepped, on guard for any traps. Eventually they came to a chamber, so dark and vast they could not see its sides, not even with the aid of their flashlights. There, in the blackness, a towering throne blazed a glorious white light, almost blinding in the sharp contrast of the dark void surrounding it.
They had to shield their eyes for a moment when approaching the throne, until their vision could adjust. On the top of a stepped platform, the throne's frame was of gold, bent with weaving thorn-like curves of lavish design, its back rose into five spires, claw-like, the centermost straight, and the four at its side curved inward. What was not gold was firestone, filling every space and crevice. A gaunt-faced, elderly lion slouched forward in the seat, donning in a heavy purple robe. Of things of particular interest, he bore a round firestone amulet on a long chain around his neck, and a Felocian spear thrust in his chest.
"This is either Rhama or dracula," said Bagheera, as they dropped their backpacks and gear and crept up the platform. "Maybe both, for what this dismal vision of paradise is worth."
"It's awful stark for a place of royalty," said Myra. "Just him and this throne."
"But for everything we've heard of this lovely chap, this all seems a bit appropriate," remarked Tyler. "A total madman... and slain by his own, no less."
A lone scribe lay at the foot of the throne, sprawled over a thick leathery tome that was open to the middle. Bagheera slid the tome free, and found it was open to the last entry. He could not translate it immediately, for it was written with skaken penmanship and letters that liberally ran on top of each other.
Myra reached for the amulet, but her fingers stopped just shy of it as she tried to figure how she might get it off without damaging the king. To her surprise, Richter stepped beside her and lifted the chain over the king's head without incident, then handed it to her.
"Uh... thank you," she said.
"I won't need it," he smirked. "I'm just browsin' for now." Myra regarded his reply with much puzzlement.
"Just a king and this throne, my foot!" Bagheera suddenly exclaimed after squinting into the dark distance. He jotted down to retrieve his flashlight, and cast it at a distance from the throne. It was revealed that the chamber was cluttered with ornate containers, gold statues, bejeweled chests, banners, piles of coins and a sea of indiscernible trinkets, all the looted treasures from the tombs and cities of ancient Arida.
"By Jove, Bagheera," laughed Tyler, soon at the panther's side, "You've done it again!"
The treasure was unceremoniously piled, densely with no paths between objects, and quite literally everywhere to the side of and behind the throne. Just as they could not see the edge of the cavern, they could see no end to glitter for as far as their lights could shine.
"Oh, wow!" marveled Myra. "This makes King Tuut's tomb look like a yard sale!"
Richter stood by the throne, arms crossed, watching the other three celebrate. He grinned, for one part in approval of all the wealth being revealed with each turn of their flashlight, and for another part his own amusement at their naive assumption that they would somehow stake a claim in the treasure.
From somewhere in the dark, there were suddenly several clanks and clunks heard. The four looked around at each other, and it was from no one in their group. Richter jumped from the platform with his machete in hand.
In a moment, there was another round of clumsy noises, it sounded like the Aridian treasures were being knocked over in the distance. Then they heard a Spanish-accented voice cry out, one already familiar to most of them: "I would like to take two estupid steps this week without tripping over something! What is this junk!"
A young voice replied, "Ow! Well don't push it on top of me!"
"What happened to your lighter?"
"I don't know! Cripes, you hear that? It's still followin' us! There's some light up there, maybe it's a way out!"
"I see the― ow! Oooh, that was the shin!"
"Kit," Tyler gasped quietly.
"Karnage," growled Richter, through grinded jaw.
Tyler shouted after the boy. "Kit! Is that you?"
"Tyler? Where are you?"
"Kit, how in the world did you wind up― oh, blast it. Follow the light, lad! We're right next to it!"
From the other side, Karnage said, "Tell me that is not the funny-sounding fooligan with the gray fur."
"Well it's probably not Rick Sky, is it," Kit replied. "And what, you think his accent's funnier than yours?"
"What accent?"
Kit and Karnage felt their way blindly along, with a bright beacon and four flashlights swaying toward them from ahead. One flashlight broke away from the others, swinging in such a way that its bearer was obviously running toward them. As it got closer, it shined the light in Karnage's face. Karnage flinched and began to curse at him, but before he could complete even one 'carumba', he was violently knocked down as if hit by a speeding truck, taking many standing relics with him as he fell on top of a heap of coins. Kit cried out but could not see more than mere shadows behind the flashlight. The next thing Karnage knew, a sharp blade was against his throat, pinning him down.
"Richter!" yelled Tyler. "Wait! Don't harm the lad!"
Karnage blinked until his eyes uncrossed. "Rrrichter?"
"How the hell did you get in here?" seethed Richer.
As the others began to come near, Kit saw a mad glint in Richter's eye that warned of a compelling urge to not even give the pirate a chance to speak before carving his neck in two. "Hey! Leave him alone!" Kit went to pry Richter's machete away from Karnage, but the big bear pushed him without a thought into Tyler.
"Kit! Heavens lad, do you know how many people are looking for you right now?"
"What are you doing here with this cad?" asked Bagheera.
"That's a damn good question," Richter said, his machete was pushed as hard against the pirate's throat as it would go without breaking the skin. "As if I didn't know."
"The boy is my prisoner, of course," coughed Karnage. Under Richter's murderous glare, he added, "What, you think I carry my own bags?"
"Who saved you?" demanded Richter. "How many more of you scum are there?"
"I saved him," Kit said. "And it's just him... and me." Concisely he described his predicament on the Iron Vulture, how they were stranded in the jungle, and how they had depended on each other to see their way home.
Through the explanation, Richter never moved his knife. "Kid, I don't know how you're still breathing, but if you want me to believe that you knocked me out..."
"Believe what you want. You were gonna kill him just because he made you mad. Notice he coulda returned the favor, but you're still alive."
"Yes, yes, notice!" croaked Karnage.
"We have rope packed away, Jesse," said Tyler. "We can bring him to Alpacito on our way back. I'm sure they'll be pleased to see him after the museum robbery."
"V-very pleased, big reward to bring me in alive, no?" agreed hastily Karnage. "They hate me there!"
Myra shook her finger at him. "And if Aridia gets its hands on you, you'll be sorry."
"What'd he do in Aridia?" asked Tyler.
"Pyramid theft!"
Tyler and Bagheera looked at her incredulously. "Pyramid theft?"
Karnage cackled proudly, but being at the wrong end of a thoroughly unamused bear's machete quickly wiped the smile from his face.
At length Richter withdrew his knife; he grabbed Karnage by the front of his coat and leaned in close to him. "I'll give you this one. But any funny business, pull anything at all, and I swear on my own life that you're done for."
"We'll get word out to Baloo as soon as possible, lad," Tyler said. "He's been out and looking for you high and low. We'll be headed out of here in a jiff or two. You're welcome to look around with us, if you want."
"You're not listenin' to me," said Kit, having given multiple warnings about their recent encounter. "You got no idea what kind of monster we saw!"
"You wouldn't describe it as... dragon... -ish... would you?"
A surprised expression on Kit's face answered in the affirmative.
"Actually, I know what you saw," nodded Tyler. "We saw several of them, dead. If there's one running around, I'll speak about it with the others right now."
Karnage sat miserably at the bottom of the throne, his hands and arms bound behind his back. Presently all the shiny valuables being observed by the others meant nothing to him... prison bars did.
Kit had declined Tyler's offer and sat on the other side of the platform. Occasionally he glanced back at Karnage, seeing the pirate sullen and lost to his own gloomy thoughts. A new wave of quaking and rumbling flooded the chamber.
Tyler, Myra, and Bagheera huddled over an open chest that they were sorting through. "The lad says they ran from a live one," explained Tyler. "He said that's the racket we've been hearing off an on, they think it was following them."
Richter snorted, listening to their conversation from the shadows. "Just one?"
"Just one confirmed," scowled Tyler. "That means they have somehow survived this long. You can't tell me that even you're not thinking we might be getting in over our heads."
"We're near a volcano, the ground's gonna shake now and then," Richter said, dismissively. He scanned the pitch horizon while running his fingers over the grenades strapped to his belt. "Besides... I think I can take one of 'em."
Tyler rolled his with a frustrated groan, and he turned back to Myra and Bagheera. "I think we ought to bugger off now before we find out the hard way just how many there are. We've bagged up as much as we can carry, anyway, and that lad's been away from home for too long as it is."
Myra and Bagheera agreed, and as they gathered their things, Richter unspokenly followed suit, though unlike the rest he had no extra bag of trinkets. The only thing he had bothered to collect while inside the fortress was a pirate captain, whom he gave a push to make him stumble to his feet.
"I can walk by myself, you ninny," Karnage said, wriggling a few steps ahead of his captor.
"Shut up while you're at it, then," replied Richter. "I'm draggin' you on your face if you trip."
Karnage caught a glimpse of Kit behind Richter, and despite his predicament smiled with a bit of pride over how the boy maliciously glared at Richter behind his back, wishing he could put a dent in his head with his fist.
With their flashlights leading the way, the group left the throne behind, Karnage and Richter first, then Tyler and Bagheera, chatting quietly about the sack of new loot each held. Bagheera kept the king's tome snug under his arm. Myra fell back to walk with Kit, and introduced herself.
"So they tell me you fly with Baloo," she said.
"Yeah."
"How is the ol' bear?"
"He's fine," Kit replied, flatly.
Myra saw that his attention was preoccupied watching Richter and Karnage. "Well... that's good. I bet you'll be glad not to have to worry about that awful pirate getting in your way anymore."
Kit frowned, thinking of how if he had heard someone say that only one week ago, he would have been willing to lead a marching parade celebrating Karnage's capture. "He's... not all bad," he said, faintly so that none of the others heard, especially the two in the very front.
Echoes of long and loud breaths suddenly filled the air. The group stopped just shy of the the chamber exit hall, and behind them they heard clearly the sound of countless Aridian artifacts being knocked over in one swipe. There were heavy footsteps, set forth with a distinctive drum of large claws striking the ground in each stride.
Tyler pushed his fedora firmly down around his brow, in preparation for one of fiercest runs of his life. "Jesse... you might be getting your wish. A very big wish."
"It's here!" cried Kit. He dashed in front of Karnage, tugging on his coat to keep him moving. "We can't stand and gawk at it! It'll fry us!"
"Let's press on, quickly," said Bagheera, and they began to do so, all but one.
Richter halted everyone. "Watch the pirate," he said, looking at Tyler and Bagheera as he pushed past them, back toward the throne. "Watch the brat, too. Don't trust him."
"Jesse, don't be ridiculous!" said Tyler. "What do you think you're going to do?"
Richter replied only by taking his machete in hand.
"Let the lug-headed looney go!" blurted Karnage, a ray of hope in his tone. "This I would love to see!"
Kit tugged on Karnage's coat harder. "We've seen plenty! Pull chocks already!"
Richter approached the bright light of the throne, slow but with wide strides. Though the echo made it hard to tell which direction the breathing was coming, he could see faintly a looming monstrous figure rising behind the old king.
"Aw, jiminy," he muttered, realizing it was more than a little larger than he expected, far more so than the ones he saw dead with the Felocian soldiers. Before he knew it, the glint of the creature's jaws was bearing over him.
The others had already beat a fast path up and out of the temple. Just as they passed the hinged gates and out the ziggurat's threshold when a great blast was heard from the tunnel. They slowed a moment to catch their breath.
"Bloody fool," Bagheera sighed. "That was suicide! What did he think to prove?"
Myra took off her glasses to wipe her sweat from the lenses on her thigh, slowly and with contemplation. "I can't believe he just..." Her voice trailed off.
"Are you all right, Myra?" asked Tyler.
"Yeah, but... even if he was a jerk, I've never lost anyone on the field."
"How about you, lad?"
Kit leaned over on his knees, breathing steadily, at length giving him a thumbs-up signal.
"I feel lousy," panted Karnage. "If anyone is wondering."
They heard a galloping from behind the gates, then Richter shouting, "Move it, move it, move it!"
"Jesse, what― ?" Tyler peered behind the gate, and was abruptly tossed like a ragdoll when Richter burst outside and slid to a stop on his hip. Quickly the grizzly jumped to his feet and thrust himself against the left side of the gate.
"Shut the doors!" he yelled. "It's comin' this way!"
Bagheera and Myra helped Tyler up first; under the brim of his hat, his eyes danced in dizzy circles. Then they assisted with the other side of the gate.
"What was it?" Bagheera asked.
"Dragon," said Richter. "Big, white, fire-breathin' son of a gun! It was too dark in there, I couldn't get a move on it." Richter fell to his backside with his back planted against the gate, and kept his ear close. He chuckled to himself. "This is gonna be a good one."
Kit and Karnage shared a puzzled glance. 'White?' they thought.
Tyler had regained his balance and threw his hands up in outrage. "Good one? When did you go completely stark-raving mad!"
"I got me a plan," he said. "I can still take it down. I just needed to come out here to do it." Richter pressed his ear all the way against the gate. "It's coming! You guys scram, and don't forget the stinkin' pirate!"
What angered Karnage the more than the insult was that he didn't even have a hand untied to shake his fist with. "Who are you calling― ack!" He was grabbed right and left by Bagheera and Tyler and dragged away.
Richter ran up the steps of the ziggurat; he positioned himself over the archway above the gate.
The dragon head-butted the gate wide open and announced itself with a mighty roar. Kit was with Myra, and they dove into the tall foliage for cover; he could not see the others, but he could see the dragon. It was a shimmering white beast with a long neck. It crept from the ziggurat in a low crouch, wings tucked in to its back, barely squeezing through the gate, and it did not give chase. It had its eyes zeroed on something already, something right in front of it. Its wings flicked once as it stretched its back and stood to its full height― a good fifty feet, at least― sniffed twice and belched a puff of smoke from his snout.
Kit pulled back a patch of grass and saw what was before the dragon: Tyler, Bagheera, and Don Karnage. They had not moved quick enough to avoid being seen, and stood looking up at it in hapless terror. Tyler and Bagheera staggered in opposite directions, but the dragon had made its choice. It was fixated on Karnage.
Myra grabbed Kit by the ankle just as the boy was about to run out there. "No, Kit! It's too dangerous!"
"He's tied up! Someone's gotta help him!"
Richter leapt onto the dragon's shoulders, plunging his machete into the base of its neck. Fire spewed wildly in the air as the beast kicked its head back and howled in agony. It fanned its wings and squirmed, drooling flame and inadvertently spraying its own limbs ablaze as it tried to reach Richter with its jaws. The big bear had a firm clasps of its neck in his arms, and stabbed it repeatedly, but he realized he was doing little than hurting it... and making it angry.
With a mighty burst of its wings, it suddenly leapt and went airborne, circling the dome and bucking fiercely.
Bagheera heaved a sigh of relief, simply thankful the beast wasn't eyeing him; but he could hardly believe what he was watching Richter do. "This was a plan?"
"No, I'm certain he's playing this part by ear," said Tyler.
Myra and Kit came out from their hiding spot; while everyone else watched the dragon awestruck, Kit ducked behind Karnage and tried to undo the ropes around his arms without anyone noticing.
"That's my boy," whispered Karnage. "Hurry! We make like a leaf and vamoose!"
"Hold on, I'm tryin'," Kit said. "And it's make like a tree!"
"Since when do trees vamoose?" snapped Karnage.
Unable to loosen the tight knots, he restored to his teeth and tried chewing through the rope.
Tyler happened to turn and see him. "Kit! What on earth are you doing!"
"You can't leave him tied up," Kit said. "Not while that thing's around!"
"Nothing doing," insisted Bagheera. "We'll keep him safe if we can, but we're not fool enough to just let him loose!"
"Keep him safe? You were doing a great job of that a minute ago!"
Swooping over their heads, Richter was screaming and swearing like he had never uttered an uncouth word before and had a lot of catching up to do. The dragon landed on top of the ziggurat, shook its back, but could not get rid of its unwelcome rider. A stream of blood poured down and flung from its limbs, and fire shot from its mouth in a great pillar. Richter jumped from its shoulders and began climbing its neck, driving his machete into the beast every inch of the way.
In a desperate fit, the dragon threw itself down the ziggurat's stairs, rolling on its back to try to scrape Richter off.
"Look out!" cried Bagheera, and everyone scattered from the front of the temple, just missing being crushed by the ghastly avalanche tumbling to the ground. The dragon landed on its side, squealing. Its shrill cries were echoed by a very deep growl, from where or what was not seen. By the time it had rolled back right-side up, Richter was on its head, holding fastly to its two horns. Eventually the dragon rose again, its neck and limbs wavering and darkened deep red, and it whipped its head forward and finally flung Richter over its face. The grizzly was wide-eyed as he held onto the top of the dragon's nose, guessing quickly that this was not where he wanted to be. Scalding steam burned his stomach. He snatched one of his grenades and pulled the pin, and the dragon opened its maw to bite his legs.
The others saw him push away and fall under the dragon, and counted down from 'five' with his fingers. The dragon slammed its talons on either side of his shoulders, trapping him in place, and inhaled deeply to deliver the most vindictive wave of flame it had ever breathed... until Richter finished counting.
It was a gruesome explosion, fleshy parts and scales splattering and raining down about the court. The headless giant fell at last, gurgling its last breath from the neck.
Richter rolled flat on his back, bathed in the creature's blood. "Hot damn!" he shouted. "That's how it's done!"
"Oh, pooh," Karnage jeered. "Anyone could do it."
"Bravo, Jesse," said Tyler. "I'll say that for you... bravo. Are you going to be okay?"
"I told ya..." He sat up and patted the wound on his left leg. "Never felt better."
"Well there's your dragon, lad," said Bagheera. "You were right, it was quite the size."
"Uh, no, that's not our dragon," Kit replied, disgustedly wiping a piece of dragon goo from his sleeve. "Not even close."
"How do you know it's not the same?" asked Bagheera.
"Because the one we saw was black, and a lot bigger," said Kit.
"Bigger," scoffed Richter. "You don't know what you saw."
After so many turns of events thus far, Tyler wasn't so inclined to dismiss the boy's information. "How much bigger, would you say?"
"Well... ever see the Spruce Moose? Bigger."
"Lad, that's a five-hundred foot plane," Tyler shrugged. "Think a moment, we need a realistic description."
"The boy just told you," Karnage said. "I saw it too, you buffoon!"
A roaring howl blasted through the caverns. It came from behind the ziggurat, from the cavern where the ruined wall lay. Richter's shoulder's stiffened; he looked toward the cave in weary disbelief. The depths of the cavern disappeared in a dark fog, but a glow of red flame flickered from deep inside.
Tyler turned to Kit again, showing him the necklace he had tucked under his shirt shirt, and the old ornament that depicted the Felocian dragon god. "D-did it have horns coming around its jaw? Like this?"
"Yeah! How'd you know?"
Richter went on another swearing tirade, swinging his fists high in the air. "That can't be! He's not real, dammit!"
What had been left standing of the ancient wall barricading the cave fell with a quaking thud, and a cloud of smoke poured forth. And they saw it, at last, the massive beast in the shadows clawing its way into the court, its horned crown glowing in the light of its own fiery breath; as large as the mouth of the cavern was, the beast was strikingly larger. In forceful swipes, its talons tore into the bare rock and earth, piece by piece, making a path for itself.
As cocky as he had felt just a moment before, Richter dared not brave a stand against the beast. He was the first one to about face and flee. The others followed quickly in suit, with a bit of commotion as they hastily gathered their gear and belongings. Tyler and Myra took up the loot bags and Bagheera ran beside Karnage. Kit stayed fast at the pirate's side.
They ran on the road to the gardens, set between two tall and winding ridges, occasionally having to leap over an old corpse. No matter how fast they ran, the beast's roars were at their heels. Over the clamor of their own sprinting, they could hear it after them, the cavern walls shaking with every stamp of its feet. They made it back to the entrance hall, and sped through its long passage uphill.
Once past the threshold, they collectively collapsed on the rubble, gasping for air. Outside, no tint of sky awaited them. Night had fallen in the jungle, foggy and pitch.
"Confound it, we had it," Bagheera wheezed. "We found Rhamastan! We won't have come this far to have some wretched beast stop us!"
"That was no mere beast," said Tyler. "I think we're safe here... it was much too big to follow us through the tunnel."
"But what are we going to do?" asked Mrya. "Give up? There's so much in there!"
"We need to just take a little while to collect ourselves," said Bagheera. "We'll make camp for the night. We're an intelligent bunch, we'll think of something."
"Yeah, sit there and think about it," scoffed Richter. "I got a solution. Blast the damn thing to hell and back."
"Oh? And, pray tell, just how do you intend to accomplish that?" asked Bagheera.
"I'll think of something," Richter grumbled.
"We're going to take care of this, one way or another," Bagheera said. "I don't care if I have to bring a horse, lance, and a bloody suit of shining armor!"
