“What?” Lirza shakes her head. “No. That can’t… There must be some mistake.”
Julien can’t bring himself to answer.
The Fool also remains uncharacteristically quiet.
“Please tell me it’s not true!” Lirza walks up to Julien and squats down in front of him, leaning forward, eyes pleading. “You must have started your journey in one of the kingdoms. That’s what all the legends say. ‘From beyond, the chosen will come to the Kingdoms of Tarotia. The chosen will unify the powers and heal Tarotia.’”
Julien frowns. “First time I’ve heard those words.”
Lirza recoils. “I’m doomed,” she murmurs. “I’ll never get out of here.” The spark that had been there fades from her eyes. A faux flame, a mere imitation of a fire doused once too often.
Despite his mood, Julien chuckles. “If I had a penny for each time I thought that…” His eyes dart to the magic meter in the corner of his vision. Around an eighth left. Definitely not enough for combat. But he can fix that. As for weapons, he may not have one in the traditional sense, but maybe that’s actually good. The beginnings of a plan come to him, and he grins. “Let’s not give up that quickly.”
“Quickly?” Lirza raises her head. Something in her voice makes Julien take note. “Don’t speak to me of giving up quickly. I’ve been here for so long, I don’t even remember when I arrived! My companions died trying every escape plan they could think of. I’ve been here for so long, I learned lizardspeak! And if I hadn’t–”
“What?” Julien cuts her off. “You can understand them?”
“Yes, I–”
“Shh!” Julien interrupts her again. “Sorry, Lirza, but it is about to get quite a bit darker.”
The Fool gives Julien a panicked look. “Why?”
“Don’t worry. I’m not out. Just need to conserve a bit.” He winks and then whispers, “Synthisa Passiva.” The Fool disappears, leaving them in darkness. It does not last too long. “Synthisa Sarcina Activa.”
The knapsack of the Fool materializes before them. It provides only a fraction of the light that had been there in the Fool’s presence, but Julien can still see the surprise written on Lirza’s face. He grins as he reaches inside and starts laying out a specific part of his collection.
“Time for planning. I want you to tell me everything you know about those tongue-sniffers, Lirza. And I do mean everything. Any detail might help.”
While Lirza goes into great detail about her time among the Slytar, Julien limits himself to the occasional question. Apparently, her ear and talent for language had saved her from the fate of being a mere course. Instead, she got the position of a valued, though carefully hoarded, resource–informant and language tutor in one.
With his ears in the conversation and his hands busy organizing the tools fate had dealt him, options and possibilities suddenly connect.
“What strange magic are you planning?”
Julien smiles. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell you all you need to know. Once that’s done, though, I’ll have to take a little nap.” He eyes the purple Migaera berries he just retrieved. He’ll need at least three.
***
A light tapping on his cheek is enough to shake Julien awake. “It’s time,” Lirza whispers.
Julien rubs his eyes and looks up at the small light above them. He tries and fails to make out any shape. “On your feet, slow newt. I’ve come for you.” It is Sorqa’s voice.
“What for?” Julien shoots his only human companion a look.
“You will see.”
“Don’t worry,” Lirza whispers.
“You too, speaker of tongues.”
Julien sees a ladder descending towards them. Lirza stands up and walks towards it. Julien follows suit. In the corner of his vision, he sees that his magic bar is filled. He ignores the itch to check the pouches and stingers he had stashed below his cuirass and in the pockets of his pants. Hopefully, they won’t search them. Why would they?
Around the pit, a sizable escort is waiting. There are twelve armed lizards. Six of them wear their paint in Rhaqasha’s patterns. Additionally, there are more salamanders. Some are even bigger than the ones that had captured him.
“I see that Fool is gone. No matter. Rhaqasha give Sorqa powerpearl just in case. Take it and summon Fool.”
Julien recognizes the small pellet given as a Migaera pearl. Probably one they had taken off him. He pops it in his mouth, quickly tucks it in his left cheek with his tongue, and swallows it audibly.
A quick summoning later, the honor guard sets out. Julien, unbound but unarmed, walks in the centre. The Fool walks on his left, Lirza on his right, and Sorqa several steps in front.
So far, so good.
In procession, they navigate the road that leads into the lizard settlement. The imposing structure at the centre of it all quickly catches Julien’s attention. Somehow, he knows it is their destination.
Word about his presence must have spread. The paths are lined with lizards gaping at the translucent, luminous figure at his side. The occasional tongue of a salamander whips out to pass through the Fool; the incessant clicks, trills, and rasps pick up in intensity each time it happens.
At the foot of the step-pyramid, Julien gapes at the immense structure. Feeling the weight of appraising eyes more than ever, his gaze is drawn to a small company waiting for him at the top.
As they ascend, a play of light and shadow turns the coiling shapes flanking the stairs into climbing serpents. Casting an occasional look downward, Julien sees that the crowd at the bottom of the pyramid splits up and walks around the base. There are so many of them.
Just keep it together, Julien. Remember, the element of surprise is yours.
With every step, Julien fervently prays that they lack the immunities he had built up in the Garden.
Upon arriving at the top platform, Julien’s eyes immediately zoom in on the central figure next to Rhaqasha. Towering at least one meter over her is a lizard that Julien can only describe as regal. Stripes in various shades of red, blue, and silver line his leathery, brownish hide. It stretches taut over prominent muscles. Spikes line his tail. Bony protrusions around his head form a natural crown. He is a king among lizards.
“The First Son,” Lirza murmurs.
His slitted, amber eyes pass briefly over Julien and the Fool at his side. He rasps something, and as Julien is led forward, he sees how Rhaqasha’s eyes glint; she gives one of her excited head shakes. Julien’s guards seamlessly join formations with the royal guard.
A second inspection and a snarl later, Julien and his companions follow the First Son and Rhaqasha towards the other edge of the pyramid. Oddly enough, the middle section of that side is a smooth slope flanked by steps.
Down below, Julien can see where the crowds had moved on to. Two rocky banks stretch out from the sides of the pyramid into a vast subterranean lake. They are lined with both Slytar warriors and juveniles.
The First Son takes a deep breath and sends his booming voice rolling down the pyramid. Not needing a prompt, Lirza translates.
“Taste the airs of change, children of the Great Mother! Rhaqasha, favored hatchling and pride of the First Son and the Great Mother, has captured the great Fool-Warrior. With his training, our warriors will increase in strength fivefold! We will drive the Rotta from their nests! We will take the garden from the great plant mother! We will conquer the world above! Rejoice, Mother, our time has come!”
The crowd responds with raspy snarls that transition to melodious trills and growls as they turn from the pyramid towards the waterfront. The cave rings with eerie yet beautiful harmonies.
As they slowly die out, Julien only has a few seconds to muse that he’d rather not meet the mother that birthed a behemoth like the First Son.
With a sound oddly reminiscent of a bath draining but multiple times louder, the lake starts churning. A humongous serpentine back breaks the surface of the water.
Julien’s sudden trembling has nothing to do with the cold. One hump turns into two. Two turn into four. Then, more and more of a train-sized, coiling body emerges from the dark, murky depths as it slithers towards the pyramid.
Julien stands completely frozen as, with a gentle sway, a large head rises from the water. Her wet scales glitter in the strange, ethereal light of the cavern, like a skin interwoven with tiny gems. The head rises to the level of the pyramid’s platform. Her body seeks support against the pyramid’s side, the smooth channel in the middle suddenly making sense.
Beautiful yet terrible to behold is the Great Mother in all her majesty.
Julien peers into large, silvery eyes, and all his plans are suddenly forgotten.