Guardian of the Dream
Part 4 - The Night of the Flower
Chapter 3 - The Gate of the Moon
Balsa thought she heard someone calling her name and raised her head. Four people approached from the direction lake, their figures shadowy in the gloom. Balsa felt her heart rise to her throat.
"Balsa!" Chagum ran, tripping over himself. He'd grown taller since the last time they’d met. His voice was also no longer the high pitched trill of a child, but had dropped and become that of a young man’s.
"Hey! Watch out! Don't damage the barrier. Step over it carefully as you come in," Torogai barked.
Chagum slowed down. He gently stepped over the rope as he was told, then caught sight of Balsa and grinned. Memories of the time they'd spent together flashed before his eyes.
"You've grown so much, Chagum!" Balsa cried out hoarsely. She reached out and cupped his face in both hands. The top of Chagum's head used to just about come up to her chest, but now his head came up to shoulder level. He hugged her tightly and started to cry.
Neither had thought that they would ever see one another again, and once this night was over they would have to say goodbye.
Shuga and the Hunters Zen and Yun entered the barrier soon after Chagum. They stood still, watching Balsa and Chagum silently.
"The moon is rising…"
At Torogai's warning, everyone looked up at the sky. The dull red face of a large half-moon peeked over the tops of the mountains.
"I need to make preparations for the Soul Call before the moon is reflected in that lake,” Torogai said. “Sit quietly while I do that."
Balsa nodded at Torogai. They all needed to focus now.
Chagum let go of Balsa and, with a chastised expression, prepared to sit on the ground. He was stopped by an affronted Yun. "Please wait a moment, Your Highness."
Yun removed a blanket from his pack and laid it down on the ground. Chagum looked at the cloth with a displeased expression. Balsa nodded at Chagum in encouragement, and he sat down, frowning a little.
Balsa looked over at Shuga, who was standing nearby, and bowed her head deeply. She made it look like an innocuous greeting, as if they’d never met before, and it seemed like Shuga understood her. He smiled slightly, returning the bow.
Balsa also nodded in greeting at the two Hunters, who looked so different from one another that they might as well have been different species. Zen was short and stocky as a granite wall; he returned her greeting with a grave nod. Yun was tall and sinuous as a whip; he had a scar over the bridge of his nose where Balsa had broken it some years before. He hesitated before nodding, and appeared less than pleased to see her.
Balsa checked their surroundings. It certainly seemed like they were alone on the shores of the lake, aside from the occasional whistling of a bird. She couldn't sense the Flower’s Defender. It looked like they had managed to get here without being followed.
She couldn't allow herself to be glad about that. She imagined Tanda running up the mountain after them, injured and in pain. Wearing his body out to get to Yugno.
Tanda, stay away from here, Balsa thought. But she also wanted to see him. She wanted to know for certain that he was still alive.
In minutes that seemed like moments, the moon rose higher, illuminating the mountain peaks far above. The white wooden roof of the Mountain Palace gleamed silver in the moonlight, as if it were covered in a thin sheen of frost.
Suddenly, Yugno stirred. "What's wrong with the palace?" he asked, pointing at the lake.
Everyone looked at the lake's surface. The Mountain Palace was reflected there as clearly as if in a mirror. The reflection was far too clear to be caused by the moonlight alone. More unsettling than that was the utter stillness of the reflected image. It was undisturbed and clean-lined as if it had been etched in glass. The wind blew across the lake, causing ripples, but still the image did not change.
Chagum whispered, trembling, "The moon is strange, too." The reflection of the half-moon in the lake was definitely wrong. The moon appeared full in the lake, but only half-full in the sky. As they watched the reflection, the moon waxed fuller as if a circular window had opened in the sky to let in more and more red light.
When the moon was completely full, a high-pitched keening broke the silence. Balsa shivered and looked around. She couldn’t identify the sound, but it was getting louder.
“Is that the wind?” Balsa asked.
Shuga shook his head. “The surface of the lake is undisturbed. No wind is passing through the reeds or the grass, either.”
But the sound Balsa heard was like the wind.
“Ah!” Balsa, Shuga and Chagum gasped as the upside-down image of the Mountain Palace lit up with a red-gold glow like torchlight.
“It’s the Flower,” Chagum said. “It has to be. That’s the light of the Flower coming from the palace garden.” He sounded far away, as if he were in a trance.
Balsa grabbed Chagum’s arm. “Stay with us, Chagum. Don’t get sucked back into that!”
Chagum shook all over. The Hunters, who’d been close to nodding off, suddenly jerked awake.
“Be careful,” Balsa said. “The Flower affects dreams. Right now, our world and the world of the Flower are close together. If you lose focus, even for a moment, the Flower will drag you into its world.” Balsa heard her own voice as if it were coming from underwater, muffled and indistinct. The air around her felt as thick was liquid water.
Then Torogai appeared before Balsa, wreathed in flame and clear as the image of the Mountain Palace in the lake. The light around her burned pale yellow, like fireflies. Over time, the light intensified, illuminating Torogai’s face with the brilliance of sunlight.
Balsa had never seen a soul before, but she had no doubt that she was seeing one now. The light shining around Torogai crystallized and took on the shape of a bird. The bird flew into the night sky, but was promptly swallowed up by the lake. Only a white thread of light connecting Torogai to her bird-shaped soul remained.
***
Torogai’s soul was sucked into the reflected moon on the lake with blinding speed. The Flower’s world was covered in blue-white fog that reminded Torogai of the misty dew on grass before dawn.
But the fog wasn’t so innocuous as that. Torogai got the feeling that it was dangerous. There is strong magic in this fog, she thought. I can’t let myself be trapped by it.
It was already too late to escape the trap. Time flowed backward like thread unraveling from a spool. By the time she reached the garden inside the palace, she’d forgotten most of the past fifty-two years. She was Tomca again, twenty years old, lost in the palace and in her own life.
The Flower’s Guardian was here: a tall man dressed in gray robes tied together with a sash of vibrant green. She was overjoyed to see him again.
“Tomca,” the Flower’s Guardian said. “Where is our child?”
Gone, Tomca realized dumbly. She’d never let him go, but he he was gone, all the same. She could clearly remember the baby’s warmth as he’d slept in her arms, but the baby had disappeared.
“It’s all right, Tomca,” said the Flower’s Guardian. “Try calling for him. I’m sure he’ll come back to us.”
Tomca sighed in relief. “Of course. You’re absolutely right. I know where he is. And how to bring him here.”
Tomca spread her arms and called for her son.
***
The magic weaving tool made of zebra grass that Torogai held went up in flames as her barrier peeled open from the inside. It was broken, and the string used to mark it fell away as cleanly as if it had been cut.
A shadowy, three-legged beast jumped out of the reeds near the shore and pounced at Yugno. Balsa tried to jump between Yungo and the creature, but the Flower’s Defender swatted her away and down. She fell to the ground with great force.
Balsa saw Yun moving in her peripheral vision. He drew his sword and yelled, “Monster! Attack!”
Struggling to her feet, Balsa knocked the Flower’s Defender in the armpit with her elbow, then wrapped her own leg around its right ankle. She turned the Flower’s Defender over with all her strength, pinning it down.
Yun was aiming for the Flower’s Defender and couldn’t alter his strike in time. The point of his short sword pierced Balsa’s left shoulder. He pulled it back quickly before it could do more damage.
Chagum flew to Balsa’s aid, pressing down on her shoulder to try and stop the bleeding.
The Flower’s Defender took advantage of the chaos and tried to win free. Balsa got up, yanked the Flower’s Defender up by the shoulder and kicked it down again.
The Flower’s Defender went still.
Balsa knelt down and tried to carry the unmoving Flower’s Defender, but the creature balled both hands into fists and struck her in the chest with two quick, sharp blows.
Balsa grunted and dropped the Flower’s Defender, collapsing on top of it.
Zen signaled Yun. “Protect the prince! The monster is secondary!”
Yun nodded in understanding. Zen reached out and grabbed the Flower’s Defender by both arms, trying to hold it still with his immense strength.
“Don’t kill him,” Balsa gasped. “It’s Tanda.”
“I know,” Zen said. He dragged the Flower’s Defender out from underneath Balsa. He frowned severely when he noticed that the Flower’s Defender had a broken arm from trying to break free.
Yugno was scared out of his mind. The monstrous Defender kept trying to reach him, even pinned. Its fingers crooked like an eagle's talons, twitching towards Yugno's throat. Yugno went weak at the knees, then ran away on shaky legs toward the lake.
He gasped for breath, winded, then noticed a pleasant smell. It smelled like his favorite stew, which his mother had made for him over the sunken hearth in their home when he was a boy. From deep inside himself, Yugno heard a familiar voice.
“Yugno…”
He hadn’t heard his mother’s voice in many years, but he’d never forgotten it. In childhood, her voice was always the one that had comforted him after a nightmare. Hearing her voice now made him relax, despite the violence and fear of his current situation. His mother soothed him. She could make everything better.
“Come to me,” Yugno’s mother said. “Hurry.”
The the light of the Flower in the garden flickered. Yugno’s soul was created and grown in that garden. Yugno fell to his knees in the reeds on the shore of the lake.
***
A gust of wind blew over the lake, howling between the mountain peaks like a hungry wolf. The Night of the Flower had come. The Flower’s petals would scatter, and dreamers trapped inside its world would remain there forever.
Tanda knew that he was out of time. He transformed into a bird and flew up, searching for Kaya.
The light of the Flower flickered as a strong wind shook its petals. The garden was lit by a twilight gloom, more shadow than light. Petals blew loose and fell to the ground. Underneath the Flower’s usual sweet scent, Tanda recognized rot and decay.
Tanda kept flying, but it was a struggle. He didn’t have perfect control of his own soul in this place. Was that because of the wind? Or was his body dying in the real world?
Exhausted and fading, Tanda wanted to rest, but if he rested now, Kaya would be trapped. Whatever happened to him, he wanted to at least try to save her.
Tanda flapped his wings desperately and approached one of the Flower’s blossoms. It hung precariously from the central stem, shaking violently in the high wind. The petals scattered as he approached; he barely managed to dodge.
Souls came loose from the Flower along with the petals. He saw Kaya and immediately transformed his own soul into its human shape so that he could catch her.
“Kaya!”
Tanda grabbed hold of Kaya as she fell and positioned himself below her. They drifted to earth in the palace garden, their fall softened slightly by the wind. They’d also fallen in water, which helped. The water of the garden was thicker than he was used to, like sand, and it absorbed impact.
Kaya stirred in Tanda’s arms.
“Kaya,” Tanda said. “Are you awake?”
Kaya opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Uncle Tanda? Where are we? Why am I here?"
Petals fell like rain all around them. More souls fell into the garden and landed in the water like ripe fruit. The souls curled in on themselves and stopped moving, like infants in a womb.
Tanda wanted to wake more of the dreamers, but his body wouldn’t obey him. He was so tired that he could barely see. He summoned the presence of mind to tell himself that he had to get Kaya out of here.
I need to change her soul into a bird. She has to get away.
How could he do that when he couldn’t even move?
Up until now, the idea of his own death hadn’t bothered Tanda. It hadn’t seemed real. But as paralysis settled over him, so did a cold dread.
I can’t die here.
The things he wanted to do, the future he should have lived, faded away like the sun sinking below the horizon line at sunset.
"Uncle Tanda? What's wrong? What's going on?" Kaya’s voice trembled with fear. She shook Tanda’s shoulders, trying to get him to move.
Tanda found his voice, then said, "Kaya… You have to get away from here. Can you see the threads?"
"Threads?" Kaya squinted. She noticed the thread of light coming out of her forehead and cried out. "Yes, I see it! Uncle Tanda, I see the thread!"
Tanda grabbed Kaya's hand. "I'll turn you into a bird now, so promise me that you'll follow that thread wherever it goes. You can fly home like that."
"You’ll turn me into a bird? You can do that?"
Tanda offered his niece a slight smile. “Of course I can. I’m a magic weaver, even if I’m not a very good one.”
Tanda closed his eyes for a moment. This would probably be the last magic weaving he would ever do. He tried to turn Kaya into a bird the same way he had Chagum, but he lacked the energy even for something so simple.
Tanda’s vision swam, and the world around him went dark.
***
Zen let go of the Flower's Defender and glanced over at Balsa. She was pressing down on her injured shoulder and staring at Tanda's unrecognizable form in a daze. She looked at his face, illuminated by the fires in the gridirons that she and Yugno had set up before. She couldn’t be sure, but the Flower’s Defender wasn’t moving, and that had to mean it couldn’t. And if it couldn’t move, that meant that Tanda couldn’t, either.
Balsa felt like she’d been run through with her own spear. She had no time to grieve, but she couldn’t shut out the feeling, either. Numbness settled over her senses, protecting her from shock.
Slowly, Balsa knelt next to the unmoving Tanda. She cradled his head with both arms, then pressed her forehead against his. Her jaw set, rigid, as she tried to stop herself from shaking all over. She couldn’t breathe.
“Tanda.” Balsa was crying, but she barely noticed. “Tanda! You can’t die!”
***
Tanda heard Balsa calling out to him and looked up. His body still felt heavy, but he could move. He wasn’t ready to die. Not yet. He propped himself up on an elbow and noticed that Kaya was still next to him. She appeared worried.
Tanda nodded to himself. He had to save Kaya. He couldn’t even consider dying before that happened.
Blinking to help his focus, Tanda noticed a young woman standing next to the Flower's Guardian, near the roots of the Flower. The woman had her arms out as if she were embracing someone. She was Yakoo, and strangely familiar.
Impossible… Tanda gasped. "Ma…master! Master Torogai!" he shouted at the top of his voice.
Torogai turned to face him, appearing confused for a moment. But she recognized him. “Tanda?”
Torogai-turned-Tomca felt a shiver go down her spine. Her memories, lulled to sleep, were awakening. She aged before Tanda’s eyes, becoming the ancient and wizened magic weaver that he’d always known.
"Tomca, be careful, you're starting to age," the Flower's Guardian said harshly.
Torogai shook her head and laughed. "Is that so? What’s wrong with aging?" She laughed again. “This is who I am. It took me fifty-two years to create this face." She glared at the Flower's Guardian. "You aren't the Flower's Guardian, are you? Not the real one. You little shit, that was a dirty trick. I can't believe I fell for it!"
Torogai transformed into flames and jumped at the man, but he dodged and disappeared.
His illusions vanished with him, and Torogai was no longer shielded from the wind storm surrounding her.
The Flower’s petals continued to fall with the wind. The palace crumbled like sand.
"This is bad!" Torogai grunted as she tried to rush through the gale toward Tanda. She kept trudging forward, but Tanda’s form was obscured by the growing sandstorm.
"I won't let you go." A thin, high-pitched woman's voice echoed all around them. "We are all staying here forever. Return to me, children who have escaped my grasp!"
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