Chapter 2

Forbidden Prim

∞

“You eat like it’s your last day to live, Greegus,” Jo-Laina commented as she watched, through the eyes of her meerkin, Greegus finishing off the last of the meal he was making out of the shriek bengoi. The greasy meat had left his red whiskers with a sloppy wet appearance and his eyes were focused with intense concentration on the bone he held in his hands as he cleaned off the last of the meat from it.

She liked teasing Greegus, it was he; more than any of the others, that she respected. For a human he was humongous. He towered above other humans much in the same way that the tree that The Tree Tap was cut into towered higher than the other trees that surrounded it. His arms and legs were like the stanchions that supported the legendary great hall in the castle of Messolin (at least that’s what Jo-Laina thought of when she thought of his strength) and his chest was as prominent as the drawbridge that led into the huge castle.

Greegus’ size struck fear into the hearts and minds of strangers, but not into Jo-Laina’s. She saw through his size. His eyes betrayed the kindness buried and his shadow was greyer than most. He was big and he was scary looking, and he was very capable of killing, but his motivations for fighting were to protect the people that he loved. He didn’t kill because he lusted for the deaths of others. He killed to prevent those that he cared about from suffering that very fate themselves.

Greegus stopped with his hands inches away from his mouth, a piece of meat hanging loosely from the bone, threatening to drop away and land amongst the leaves in front of him. “I eat as if I may not git to eat tomorrow,” he said with his eyebrows raised. “Because I might not! And I thank you for bein’ able to kill such a beast!”

“Ah,” Jo-Laina said. “So your mind doesn’t always find me so creepy then? hmmm?” She added a sly smile to her comment, hoping she could playfully corner him.

Greegus’ cheeks turned to the color of his hair and his gaze drifted downward and away from Jo-Laina.

“I think you forget sometimes, Greegus; that just because my ears don’t work doesn’t mean that I am always deaf,” Jo-Laina said as she stroked the fur of her meerkin.

“Sorry, sis,” Greegus said. He often referred to each of the girls as sis. It was the way he was brought up. Every man was his brother and every girl was considered his sister; unless he chose to marry, which was rare in those times because there was way too much running to have time to court. “I don’t mean nothin’ by that ya know. It just don’t seem right for someone yer age ta be so ... angry all the time. It really is creepy.”

“You’re only jealous because it was my sword that killed the beast in your gut instead of your axe.”

“I could’a killed it!”

“And gone deaf in the process? No, I think we have enough deaf people in this camp already, Greegy,” she added mocking his name teasingly.

Panpar stood up and began removing his breastplate. His long graying hair, tied into a single tail, hanging down his back like the heavy branch of a weeping willow, thinning at the top until it reached the balding crown of his scalp. His eyes were vibrant and alive, but his body was scarred and tired. His plate was made of correllium and he and Greegus were the only two in the group that had the impenetrable protection. He laid the plate on the ground and began filling it with leaves, intending to use it for a soft place to lay his head. “I suggest we retire for the night,” he said. “Long day tomorrow. Tomorrow we begin our ascent into the Dead Mountains.”

The mountains that Messolin were cut into were called the Dead Mountains because the mountains themselves were made of correllium and nothing could grow on them. There wasn’t a single tree, blade of grass, or flower on any part of the mountains. Yet the mountains were not completely dead because there were things along the path that they would be taking that could add to the collection of bones that the mountains had begun to collect.

“I think we are wasting our time, Pan,” Jo-Laina told him. “If your stories of the Prim pockets were true then Jo-Vanna and I would sense them by now.”

“Would you?” Panpar asked. “Would the ancients have made finding the Prim Pockets so easy? I don’t think so, little one. There was too much at stake at the time. They hid them and they hid them well so that only the right Prim would find them.”

“And you really think that we are the ‘right’ Prim? What makes us so special?” Jo-Laina asked, sounding as annoyed as she was.