The Books of Knowledge

  The trip was easy and unremarkable at first. There was a long stretch of the trip that wasn’t rafting at all, where the river disappeared under rock. Other than this section when the team had to portage the light raft, there was little to complain about. The crew was able to enjoy exotic bird-watching and the food that the Nions had sent with them. The raft swam slowly down the course of the Ojikef River, sharing the languid pace of the puffy clouds drifting overhead. On either side, the banks were unbroken green walls of vines, leaves, and trees. Endless, thousands of trees.

  Two days passed by almost without incident, save for a brief terror on the second night, when the team was startled from sleeping at their campsite along the banks by a wild lart that nestled in to sleep with them. Pilotte caught the animal as it tried to run away, which made for a delicious breakfast the next morning.

  On the third day, without warning, the raft came to a three-way split in the river.

  “Which way?” Slate asked Theolus.

  The guide didn’t look to have an immediate answer.

  “…The one on the right,” he said after a few seconds of thought.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Ertajj asked him.

  “Sure I’m sure,” Theolus said, his face belying his words.

  Not fifty feet later, a rapids broke up the smooth course of the river. Smooth, water-carved boulders along the sides of the river abruptly gave way to sharper rocks. Roots and fallen trees started to clutter the river, creating whirlpools and dams that pulled at the raft. Seeing that the going was getting more dangerous, Theolus ordered the others to began securing down supplies.

  “And you’re sure this is the right way?” Ertajj asked again.

  “Just do what I tell you and we’ll be alright,” Theolus said, avoiding eye contact.

  The crew was strapping packs and oars into canvas holsters when the raft experienced the river’s first major drop in elevation.

  “Drop!” hollered Theolus, noticing the drop only split seconds before it came.

  Ertajj nearly fell out of the raft as it dropped some three feet or so through the air into a churning mess of bubbles and froth. Dahzi managed to reach out and grab him, hanging onto the raft by grabbing hold of one of the oars with his other hand. Ertajj briefly got stuck in an eddy that spun him around and around and tried its best to pull him from Dahzi’s grip. Thankfully, the eddy wasn’t strong enough to hold him, and spat him out after a few rotations. Slate helped Dahzi pull Ertajj back onboard, just before Theolus announced another drop coming up.

  “Tie yourselves down! Quickly!” Theolus said.

  The front half of the raft lurched out over the edge of what was revealed to be not just another drop in the river, but more of a small waterfall. The raft sat there on the edge of the falls for some time, teetering and threatening to dump its contents into the chasm below. Pilotte seemed poised to jump, torn between staying with Slate and making the jump to shore that only he could manage. Further and further the raft reached out from the upper stream of the falls, until its bottom could hold the horizon no longer, and then for a brief time all the crew could see was the water below, as they plunged down into it with the raft tied to their limbs.

  Mid-drop, the raft somehow managed to overtake the crew. It cut into the waiting water at the bottom of the falls like a diving bird, smooth and swiftly, and the crew was pulled down with its trajectory, their vision obscured by a white wash of bubbles. For one clear moment, Slate saw the underwater world around him, how close the sides of the raft were to slabs of rock which surely could have destroyed it had it fallen just the slightest bit to the right or left. And then the buoyancy of the raft caught up with its dive and pulled it back out of the water, and the four tethered passengers were yanked from underwater. The punishingly loud sound of storms of water bashing down on the rocks all around them drowned their screams.

  The raft then managed to bump and spin and slide just so off the lurching, angular stones at the base of the falls, down a bit further along the river to where there was a calmer current. The crew was of course pulled along the same lucky route that the raft found, all the while thrashing and struggling to get back on top of the craft and gasping for air. Pilotte, the only member of the team free from the raft’s direction, was paddling along behind the others, a look of frightened panic in his eyes. Between being plunged below the current and surging up above it, Slate saw the look in his wulf’s eyes. He had never seen such fear there. He looked to try and make contact with one of the other crew members, but the confusion was too great. Slate tried desperately to climb back into the raft using one of the oars as a ladder, but the oar became lodged somewhere between two invisible rocks below the water’s surface and it split before being torn from his grip by the angry undercurrent.

  Slate wondered for the briefest moment why the Theolus had taken the crew on such a dangerous course, but the thought didn’t last long. None could, as he tried to make sense of the churning world before him. He thought he saw that the river ended, not too far ahead, but this didn’t make any sense. Not in a delta, or at a merging with another river, instead it looked as if the river just stopped, as if it reached the end of the world. Beyond it was nothing but clear blue sky, without even the slightest wisp of cloud. If what was ahead was another waterfall, then the drop the raft was approaching must have been great indeed. But Slate couldn’t hear any roar of water indicating this was so.

  The water became more calm, and the four crewmen managed to partially or totally pull themselves into the raft. Theolus was just standing up for a clearer view of their destiny ahead when the raft met the seeming end of the river. He ripped an oar from its binding and jammed it into the crack of a rock in the middle of the stream to temporarily halt the movement of the raft.

  “In boys, hurry, get in!” he cried.

  He helped Ertajj finish his way into the raft, and Slate helped Dahzi. It was then that the whole crew had a moment to see the ground below, so very far below, with thousands of jungle trees stretching out from the river banks miles off into the distance. There was at least sixty feet of falling water waiting just ahead of the precariously perched raft.

  “What are we going to do?” Dahzi cried.

  Theolus had nothing to say.

  The oar, the only thing precluding the raft from continuing, groaned and snapped. The raft rode clear to the edge of the soaring waterfall, slipped around backwards, and then launched off into the air. It actually stayed level for some while, and the crew experienced the odd sensation of riding the air as if on a sled. They were able to peer over its edges and see the trees as clustered by kind, and all the tributaries of the raging river. And up above, along the edge of the fall, was Pilotte, howling as he watched them shrink from view. But then the raft tipped, and began turning top-over-bottom, faster and faster, with its crew all the while trapped inside. The wind whipped and battered the airborne raft, as green turned to blue then to green over and again and again for the terrified passengers. And then they and the raft met the river below with a resounding, thunderous smack.

  The air was knocked out of Slate’s lungs as the raft blew apart from its impact with the water. Suffocating now, he was hopelessly trapped in the ratty folds of the disintegrated raft with the others, as the hollow logs that had previously been its sides met and enveloped them into the raft under the force of the water. Slate fought against the canvas and the water with wild rage, as did the others, but the forces around him proved impossible for them to assail. Slate began to cry with frustration, to suffer the kicks and punches of the others struggling to free themselves, then saw red, and then purple, which finally faded to black. His fingers stopped working, and then Slate felt an odd moment of relief, before his other senses faded to nothingness.

  When he regained consciousness, he was lying on a rock in the middle of the river. Ertajj was splayed next to him, breathing, but still unconscious. Dahzi was on a smaller rock across the way, but Theolus was nowhere to be found.
r />   “Ertajj?” Slate asked. “Ertajj?”

  There was no response. When Slate went to sit up, a deep, stinging pain shot across his back. He winced and bore it, and managed to get on top of the slippery rock.

  “Dahzi?” he called across the water.

  Dahzi mumbled something in response.

  “Dahzi, are you okay?” Slate asked.

  The prince pushed himself up with his arms and looked around to see who was calling him.

  “Slate,” he said, “Are we dead?”

  “No,” Slate answered. “I don’t think so.”

  “Where’s Pilotte?” Dahzi asked, now pulling himself up to sitting.

  Slate searched the banks of the river. “I don’t know,” he said despondently.

  Ertajj shook and coughed water out of his lungs, then gasped for air as he flailed on the rock in the middle of the river.

  “Ertajj!” Slate cried, falling to his side.

  Ertajj continued to cough and wheeze until he could breathe regularly.

  “Good Gods,” he said, panting. “What the hell.”

  “You alright?” Slate asked him.

  “I guess, considering,” Ertajj answered.

  “No broken bones for anyone?” Slate asked.

  The three searched themselves, and, miraculously, none of them had been severely injured, beyond scrapes and bruises.

  “Where’s that bastard Theolus?” Ertajj asked. “I’m going to kill him.”

  “He’s nowhere in sight,” Slate said. “Neither is Pilotte.” Suddenly remembering his pack, he realized it, too, was gone. “And neither are any of our supplies.”

  “Great,” Ertajj groaned. “Well, no reason to sit here like a couple of waterwomen. Let’s get the hell out of this damn river.”

  The water was fairly calm, and so the three were able to reach the banks of the river easily. The assessed each others’ torn clothes and beaten bodies and exchanged sorrowful looks.

  “That son of a bitch,” Ertajj said. “I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but if Theolus is in fact dead, well, the river did the job I would have. Idiot had no idea where he was going.”

  “I really don’t think he did,” Dahzi agreed.

  “I’m sure they told him about the split in the river, he just probably didn’t listen,” said Ertajj.

  “I can’t believe we lost Pilotte,” Slate said.

  “Well, we know he’s alive. I mean, I saw him watching us fall. Did any of you?” Ertajj asked.

  Dahzi and Slate nodded.

  “Still awful, though,” Ertajj said. “Now he’s alone, and we’re easy prey.”

  “What are we going to do?” Dahzi asked.

  “Well, we should follow the river,” Slate said. “It’ll lead us out of here.”

  “How much longer do you think it is?” Ertajj asked.

  “No idea,” said Slate. “But keep an eye out for fish, or plants you recognize as edible.”

  “Great,” Ertajj said. “This is just great.”

  The three walked along in silence until they came to the wreckage of their raft, caught in a root system along the riverside.

  “It’s completely shredded,” Dahzi observed.

  “But, look!” Ertajj said happily. He ran to the side of the river. “I need a long stick,” he said.

  Slate found him one, which Ertajj used to fish out a pack caught up in the tangle of wreckage.

  “It’s my pack!” Ertajj said. He opened the soaking bag and dumped its contents out. “Which means we’ve got something to eat! I mean, the bread’s ruined, but we can salvage the meat, and the zans.”

  “Well that’s some good news,” Slate said. “There’s a decent amount of food there.”

  As the three ate a little of the food, careful to conserve their rations, Slate wondered what he was going to tell Guh Hsing about the books he had lost.

  “So, your delivery to Aurora Falls isn’t going to get there, is it?” Ertajj asked, echoing what was on Slate’s mind.

  “No, I don’t think it will,” Slate said. “I feel terrible about it.”

  “Nobody to blame but Theolus,” Ertajj said. “Seriously, what a moron.”

  “Come on, now,” Dahzi said. “He’s probably dead. No need to beat a dead moron.”

  Ertajj chuckled. “Still.”

  “Well, what are we going to do now?” Slate asked.

  “I’m going home as soon as I find a road that leads there,” Dahzi said. “I think I’ve had enough adventure.”

  “I’m still invited?” Ertajj asked Dahzi.

  “Of course you are. You, too, Slate,” said Dahzi.

  “Thank you,” Slate said. “But first, I’ve got to go tell my friend in Aurora Falls what happened.”

  “That’s still pretty far away,” Ertajj said. “Why not just skip it?”

  “I can’t,” Slate said. “He’ll be expecting me.”

  “Expectations aren’t always met,” Ertajj said.

  “I know, but I have to go,” said Slate. “It’s the only reason I’m on Proterse at all.”

  “Reasons change,” Ertajj said. “Maybe your real reason for being here was to meet us!”

  “I’m sure that’s a happy coincidence,” Slate said. “But that delivery was really important.”

  “Fine, fine,” Ertajj said. “But Dahzi’s family will treat us well. You know he’s a prince?”

  “What?” Slate asked.

  “That’s right, he’s a prince. An honest-to-goodness, about-to-inherit-a-kingdom prince,” Ertajj said.

  Slate looked to Dahzi, who nodded sheepishly.

  “Where you think he got all that money?” Ertajj asked. “He just likes to slum it with the likes of us. Don’t’ you, Dahzi?”

  “I certainly wasn’t ready to be a King when I left home. But I think I’ve seen enough of the world now. I’m ready to go home,” said Dahzi.

  “That’s incredible,” Slate said.

  “Yep. The kingdom of Morai, it’s all going to be his,” Ertajj said.

  “That’s pretty impressive, Dahzi,” said Slate.

  “Eh. I happen to be born into it. That’s all,” said Dahzi. “I just hope I’ll be a good ruler.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Ertajj said. “Being concerned about it is probably a good sign you will be. Anyways, you boys all done? We should get a move-on.”

  “All done,” said Dahzi.

  “Sure,” Slate said, looking back up the river as if he might spot Pilotte if he looked hard enough.

  The three walked all day and then found an overhang to sleep under when the night became too dark. The next day they rose with the noisy jungle and continued along the river bank, talking and generally having high spirits despite their situation.

  After lunch, during which most of the rest of their food stores were depleted, the banks of the river became congested with trees that made hugging the exact side of the waterway impossible. The three were forced deeper into the darker jungle.

  “I don’t like it in here as much,” Ertajj said, tugging at a difficult vine.

  “No,” Dahzi said. “Me neither.”

  The way grew tighter and tighter, the greenery closing in on all sides and choking out the sun overhead. Huge insects crawled around the tight passageway, chittering and tickling the strangers to the jungle with their long antennae and hundreds of feet.

  Something huge started moving through the growth alongside the three travelers.

  “What is that?” Ertajj asked.

  “No idea,” said Slate. “Try to keep your voices down.”

  The farther the three went, the closer the mystery in the nearby jungle came. The noise of breaking branches and snapping vines grew to almost as loud as the fateful waterfall before, and then, in a small clearing, the source of the cacophony showed itself.

  “Pilotte!” Slate cried, overjoyed.

  The wulf tried turning around in the small clearing, but could hardly. When it did, Slate was doubly surprised to see his sack
of books dangling from the animal’s mouth.

  “And my delivery!” Slate said.

  “Unbelievable,” remarked Ertajj.

  Slate jumped on the wulf and scratched him all over.

  “I was so scared I was never going to see you again!” he said, welling up with tears. “Oh, Pilotte, I’m so glad you found me!”

  The wulf seemed happy but annoyed with the claustrophobic surroundings.

  “I know it’s terrible in here, right?” Slate said. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

  The wulf took the lead, burrowing a tunnel wide enough for the others to easily follow through after.

  It wasn’t long before the tight stand of impassable trees on the riverbank broke, and the four travelers were able to walk along the water once more.

  “Isn’t it amazing?” Slate asked his friends.

  “Honestly, yes,” Ertajj answered. “But we’re still in the jungle, I’m afraid.”

  “Much safer with Pilotte here, thought,” Dahzi said.

  “Doubtless,” Ertajj agreed. “I just wonder how much further we have to go. That’s another very large mouth we have to feed.”

  “Well, if a snarlingwulf can find you in the middle of a jungle, perhaps there’s reason for optimism,” said Slate.

  “You go ahead with that,” Ertajj said. “I’ll carry the pessimism until we find a way out of here.”

  That way out came a few hours later, when the team spotted a watermill set up along the Ojikef River.

  “We’re saved!” Ertajj was the first to exclaim.

  “Thank goodness,” Dahzi said. “My legs are killing me.”

  “Better that than a jungle cat,” said Slate. “Let’s see if anyone’s home.”

  There wasn’t, but there was a road leading from the mill out of the jungle and onto a wide plain.

  “Aaah,” Slate said overlooking the plain. “Look at all that treeless wonder.”

  Ertajj smiled and grabbed Dahzi’s arm. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” he asked.

  “Maybe once or twice,” Dahzi answered. “I’ll be really happy when we find an inn.”

  “Let’s do that, then,” said Ertajj. “Down the road, boys! Down the road to dinner!”

  The four came to a small village named Marsh Hallows, which they were surprised to learn wasn’t far from Chreopoint. They located an inn there, run a sweet old couple who were happy to listen to their tale of adventure and feed and house them for the night.

  When the morning came, there was a small breakfast already waiting in the guest room.

  “I’m so ready to go home,” Dahzi said, buttering a biscuit. “I never thought I’d say that.”

  “I could use some time in one place, myself,” said Ertajj. “Morai sounds like a good oasis.”

  “So we’ll split up today, then,” Slate said sadly.

  “Only for a bit,” said Ertajj. “You go complete your delivery, then come see us.”

  “How will I find you?” Slate asked.

  “Morai is the only kingdom left on the continent,” Dahzi answered. “Our people have never wanted a change to democracy or republic like the rest of Proterse. So it’ll be easy to find; just ask about.”

  “How far is it from Aurora Falls?” Slate asked.

  “Not far,” Dahzi answered. “Maybe a day or two.”

  “Watch yourself, though,” said Ertajj. “The closer you get to Opal Pools, the worse.”

  “Why’s that?” Slate asked.

  “Because,” Ertajj answered. “Those people are fascist.”

  “Really?” Slate asked. “Well, I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere other than Aurora Falls, then back to… Morai? Is that right?”

  “That’s right,” Dahzi said. “Come see us and we’ll treat you to some real luxury.”

  “I definitely will,” Slate said. “Thanks for coming with me through the Ojikef. Sorry it was such an ordeal.”

  “An ordeal to remember for a lifetime,” Ertajj said. “Would never have done it without you.”

  The friends said goodbye to one another outside the inn and parted ways. Slate stopped before a turn in the road to look back and see Ertajj and Dahzi getting into a carriage, then watched the carriage disappear behind a cloud of dust kicked up by the horses carrying it.

  “It’s just you and me again, buddy,” Slate said to Pilotte, who smiled.

  Chapter 17