Jake nodded, his mind awhirl. So it wasn’t just human tribes—Homo sapiens—that had been drawn to this world. Earlier tribes of mankind had been snatched from their homelands and become trapped here, too.
“They are a simple people,” Marika continued. “Even aided by the alchemy that grants a common tongue to all, the Ur seldom speak, and when they do, it is slow and very basic. Papa believes there is a dullness to their thoughts, but they are strong and obey simple directions.”
Trying to hide his reaction, Jake peeled another of the kwarmabeans. He didn’t contradict Marika, but he remembered that archaeologists like his parents now considered Neanderthals to be as intelligent as modern humans.
Marika continued, pondering her own words. “Still, a group of Sumerian scribes went out to their caves in the ridge walls last summer and came back to describe elaborate wall paintings.”
“Done by the Ur?”
Marika nodded. “Someday I’d like to see those caves. The scribes tell of beasts painted on the walls that no one has ever seen before. But then again, the Ur were the first ones to come to this valley and must have witnessed many amazing sights.”
Jake focused his attention back. “They were the first?”
She rubbed at her lower lip in thought. “It is said that they were here long before any of the Lost Tribes. The earliest stories of Calypsos say that the Ur were found living in the shadow of the great Temple of Kukulkan and were the first to welcome strangers to these harsh lands, laying the foundation for the Calypsos to come. And still they help us, serving at Kalakryss and mining the cliffs for the raw crystals used in our alchemy.”
Jake stared at the narrow door, recalling how the table had been set last night and how his clothes had been cleaned and returned. Had the Neanderthals become mere servants here—or worse yet, were they slave labor? This last thought took more of the shine off Jake’s image of the peaceful and harmonious Calypsos residents.
Marika sighed. “But mostly the Ur keep to their caves. They are very private and shy. Their homes are on the other side of the ridge walls, facing the dark jungle beyond. You have nothing to fear from Bach’uuk. He and his father have served our family for many years. When my mother became ill…when she…”
Marika’s voice suddenly trailed off. She shook her head and became intensely focused on her own kwarmabean. She was saved from continuing by a rasp at the front door.
A key turned, and the door swung open. Voices carried inside, while the speakers remained outside on the doorstep.
“There’s nothing more we can do, Oswin.” It was Marika’s father, sounding bone tired and deeply worried.
“But we know there must be bloodstone splinters in her shoulder wound or she would’ve woken by now. If we could collect a few splinters and study them, we might better understand the threat against us.”
“The risk is too great. Both to Livia and Calypsos. Bloodstones taint everything…and everyone around them.”
“But we can’t live in the dark forever, not when a shadow threatens to fall over our valley. Zahur moves too cautiously. Maybe deliberately so.”
There was a long pause, then Balam spoke firmly. “Now you don’t truly believe that, do you, Oswin?”
A great rumbling sigh followed. Marika and Jake shared a glance. They shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but neither of them moved.
“I suppose not. But I can’t forget that Zahur was once Kalverum’s apprentice.”
“Yes, but we all studied under him at one time or another.”
Jake glanced at Marika.
“And what of Zahur’s experiments?” the English monk pressed, lowering his voice. “He uses Kalverum’s cellars. He works with caged beasts and treads a path similar to that monster.”
“That’s because he studies the art of healing. An important discipline requires such work. You know how much of the healing arts were lost after Kalverum was expelled.”
“Yes, yes, yes, I know you’re right,” Oswin admitted. “I guess too little sleep has me jumping at shadows. I just wish Zahur would move more quickly. I sense time weighing upon us. Those words that the boy overheard. He comes. We cannot sit wringing our hands forever.”
“I understand, Oswin. And I honor your methods of study. Your bold experiments have discovered many practical alchemies that have bettered our lives. But here I agree with Zahur. Even if it means the death of Huntress Livia, we must move with caution when it comes to the bloodstones, even mere splinters.”
“I hope you’re right, my good friend,” Oswin said. “I see dark times ahead.”
“And in the dark,” Balam said solemnly, “we must trust the light.”
A small tired laugh broke the tension. “That was not fair. Quoting my own father.”
“He was a wise man.”
Another sigh. “Wiser than his son, it seems.”
A few mumbled good-byes followed—then the door swung wider. Marika twisted in her chair and pretended exceptional interest in picking out a kwarmabean from the bowl.
Balam stepped into the room. His eyebrows rose in surprise at the sight of them. “Ah, you’re back already.” He glanced toward the door, then over to the table again. He combed his fingers through his hair but only succeeded in making it more rumpled. “So you heard all that.”
“I’m sorry, Papa,” Marika said, and stared up into his face. “But is it true? Is Huntress Livia truly going to die?”
Balam cupped his daughter’s cheek tenderly, then moved to the table. Jake saw his face fall as he passed behind her, unsure whether to tell the truth or not. Finally, he turned and stared into his daughter’s eyes.
“Yes,” he finally said. “It is only a matter of time. We can do no more.”
Marika’s face paled, but she nodded and stood up. She hugged her father. He put his arms around her, too.
Jake felt a sharp pang in his own chest, suddenly missing his own mother and father so badly that he could hardly breathe.
Father and daughter broke their embrace. Marika kept a hold of her father’s sleeve. “Papa, you’ve not slept at all. You need a bath and some rest.”
He glanced at the door to his library. “But I’ve more work—”
“It will keep until after you’ve had a short nap.” She tugged him, like a mother with an unruly child. “Let me draw you a bath. I’ll wake you in time for dinner.”