Chapter 9

Baran-Dak Toi

∞

After she finished translating for the rest of the group, Jo-Laina stood in silent thought. The rest of the clan wasn’t silent.

“It’s almost as if they just gave up,” Greegus commented. “I always thought they was warriors, through and through, fightin’ to the death of one or t’other.”

Jo-Laina heard the words that they were speaking, but those words were falling completely off of her much in the same way that blood seems to fall from a correllium blade without sticking to it. The ancients had left a message for anyone that could make it this far. They could have put that message at the very beginning of the path, but they had not, and she couldn’t help but think that they hadn’t put it at the beginning for a reason. The ancients knew that virtually nobody would be able to make it this far. She and her clan probably wouldn’t have survived this long if it hadn’t been for the Minh providing them with safe passage, but the ancients also knew that someday, somebody might make it this far, just as she and her clan had.

Was the message meant specifically for them? Were they actually trying to dissuade them from going through with their quest?

She didn’t know. What she did know was that her ultimate motivation was to reunite all of the peoples of Messolin again, but the message that the ancients had left seemed to be a warning specifically against that. It was also a reminder that there was no such thing as a Prim that could complete the trek to the top, which carried a lot of weight with her. Panpar had successfully convinced her otherwise, but the truth was that the only reason they had made it this far up had absolutely nothing to do with either her or her sister.

“I always wondered why the Prim gave up their weapons like that,” Jerifai said. “But if they didn’t have the Pockets after they reached the top, then how’d they get down?”

“The Minh,” Jo-Laina interrupted. “It wasn’t even the Pockets that enabled them to come up, was it Panpar,” she added and her voice had dropped substantially as she spoke the last part of the sentence. “And be careful, Puntarian,” she warned as she reached down and grabbed the hilt of her sword. “I was raised to believe in the old ways. Mentor or not, If you lie to me, your death will be swift, but justified.”

Panpar didn’t react by grabbing his own weapon. He knew better and there were many reasons that he knew better. He knew better because his swordsmanship was no match for hers. He knew better because, human or not, the loyalty of the rest of the clan did not lie with him. Everyone’s loyalty was with the two human Prim. It was the two of them who everyone believed so rigorously, and they believed so rigorously in the twins because he so rigorously did. Yes, he knew better, but there was something else as well. His loyalty lay with the twins. He would give his life to protect them, and he would end his own life if either of them were to ask for it. He reacted by dropping to one knee, dropping his head forward, and presenting her with the back of his neck. If she wanted to, she could easily end his life.

“You know that isn’t what I’m asking you for, Panpar. Get back on your feet and answer my questions, but I will repeat to you that I not only want the truth. I want the whole truth. You have not told me everything you know.”

“Mmmph,” Panpar said. “Sometimes I forget and I ask you to forgive me. You look like a child but you think like a wizard, and you swing a sword like a swarm of bees. You are correct. A Minh brought one Prim up, but neither she nor the Minh traveled back down.”

“Why not?” Jo-Laina prompted.

“It was part of the agreement. The Minh were the only ones on the entire planet that could seemingly reason with the Barakai, but the Minh who brought this particular Prim up the mountain was not in the best graces with the rest of the Minh. They were both doomed to die at the top of this mountain.”

“Who was she?” Jo-Vanna cut in.

Panpar stuttered the beginning of an answer, but it was as if the words wouldn’t form in his mouth. His eyes began to quake in their sockets and his hands began to tremble.

Greegus leaned over to Jerifai and whispered. “What the hell’s wrong with him? I’ve seen him face a Barakai once. He didn’t even quiver. Killed the thing in less than a minute and smiled after he was done. Right now, he looks as scared as one of those meerkin,”

Jerifai didn’t dare answer. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and continued to listen.

“Jo-Laina,” Panpar said finally.

At first, she thought he was referring to her as if, out of nowhere, he decided that speaking her name was necessary, but that wasn’t his intention at all and she quickly figured it out.

“YOU LIE!” she screamed viciously, drawing her sword instinctively, lunging the one step needed toward him, and placing her blade at his gut. “A Prim’s name is never duplicated! It’s never used twice! It is FORBIDDEN!”

“Her name was Jo-Laina. She was the captain of the guard, leader of the Prim at that time, and her sister’s name was...”

“Jo-Vanna,” Jo-Vanna finished before he could.