Wot, Nott, Kakuri and the HU BA HOU: Part Two - Realm of the Black Crystals

Wot, Nott, Kakuri and the HU BA HOU: The Realm of the Black Crystals

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Part Two: The Realm of the Black Crystals

Gerrard T Wilson

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www.crazymadwriter.com

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Text copyright © 2009 Gerrard T Wilson

Gerrard T Wilson asserts the moral rights to

be identified as the author of this work.

Conditions of sale:

This book is sold subject to the condition

that it shall not, by trade or otherwise,

be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated

without the publisher’s prior consent in any form,

binding or cover other than that in which it is

published and without a similar condition

including this condition being imposed

on the subsequent purchaser.

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We were not boy wizards, vampire’s assistants or even living skelet-

ons, we were normal everyday people living normal everyday lives,

with no inkling of the tremendous events that were about to unfold.

Our adventure began with the arrival of a peculiarly small Christ-

mas card, which sent us hurtling to the mystical land of Onisha,

where Umahia, the Grand Mystic, asked for our help. He told us that

he needed our help to fight, stop and ultimately defeat ‘Miafra, the

evil,’ the mystic who had stolen his powers, the seasons, free will

and all time. Umahia told us that we had powers, powers that up un-

til then we had no inkling we possessed, which might, just might de-

feat this evil man…

We had no idea, no inkling whatsoever, that we were going to be at-

tacked by Protectors atop Hound-Horses, fight a statue hell-bent on

killing us, be betrayed in our sleep, and be forced to fight a danger-

ous beast called a Dragonsaur. No, we had no idea at all. If we had,

we might have chosen not to heed Umahia’s call, leaving the land of

Onisha and perhaps even the Earth itself open to untold dangers…

Contents

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Page

Introduction: 5

Chapter One: Guarding the Axis 7

Chapter Two: An Invisibility Deception, 16

Chapter Three: A Dark Place Within, 36

And Fighting the Beast

Chapter Four: The way forward is Under 61

Chapter Five: The Protectors are Coming! 69

Chapter Six: Omoora 88

Chapter Seven: Ondo-O-Osqualo 111

Chapter Eight: The Realm of the Black Crystals 139

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Chapter One

Guarding the Axis

Taking charge of the situation, Nott said, “We now have an entrance.

That is good. However, it is still fazing in and out. That is bad. As I

see it, in order for us to get safely inside the Seat of the Axis, we will

have to rush it head on, when hole and the building are both fully

visible. Any questions?”

However, before Kakuri and Wot had time to reply, to say they had

some misgivings about his plan, a dark shadow enveloped them from

above…

Looking up, horrified by what they saw, a giant dragonfly

descending fast towards them, the band of thee darted for cover.

Having been silently watching, listening, brooding, following their

every move from that bare branch so high above, the giant insect,

posed a considerable threat to their safety. Although it had already

grown to a considerable size, the dragonfly was still growing. Larger

and larger it grew until it was so big it blotted their view of the sky

above.

Landing, alighting in front of the Seat of the Axis, the giant insect,

blocking the only route into the building, dared the band of three to

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try and enter. As if that was not enough for Wot, Nott and Kakuri to

contend with, the dragonfly began changing, metamorphosing into

something quite different...

Its spindly wings falling uselessly away from its body left the giant

insect suddenly earthbound and defensiveness. This situation,

however, did not last for long, as large leathery new ones, sprouting,

replacing those abandoned, began beating in a most threatening

manner. Its rear insect legs extending, larger, larger, grew into a

formidable pair of hind limbs. Its middle set of legs grew smaller and

smaller until they were no more. The front pair of insect legs

increasing in size, grew into arm-like appendages, dangling beneath

its rapidly transforming head, a head that was changing, growing into

something incredibly ferocious looking. Sharp, pointed teeth

protruding from wide gaping jaws, emitted a forked tongue that

began tasting the air. Lastly, to help balance this hideous creation, a

tail sprouted. When this transformation was complete, the dragonfly

had changed into something quite different. It had changed into

flying dragon of sorts, like a cross between a Tyrannosaurus Rex and

a Dragon, it was a Dragonsaur!

The hideous creature, however, did not attempt to attack the trio. No.

Settling itself down between them and the building, it rested,

denying them entry into the Seat of the Axis. It was a guard.

Wot, Nott and Kakuri needed a plan – and they needed it now, but

were at a total loss as to what they might do, try, against such a

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formidable adversary. Whispering, Nott said, “Wot, can you hear

me?”

“Pardon?” he replied.

“I said can you hear me, you berk!” Nott hissed.

“You mean me?” Wot asked, pointing to his chest.

Raising his fist, threatening him, Nott shouted, “Wot, can you hear

me, because if you say you can’t I will flatten you, so I will?”

This time Wot heard him clearly, understood exactly what he was

saying, but no sooner had he replied that he did, the beast, licking the

air, searching for his place of concealment, approached. Although

Wot had concealed himself under the leaves of a large bush, and

thought himself safe from the beast, he pulled back even further

beneath it. Under that bush, in the dried-up interior that scratched

and scraped him annoyingly, he racked his brains, searching for ideas

as to how he might get away from the creature. Tugging at the hood

of his cloak, trying to pull it higher over his head, all the while

grumbling at how prickly and itchy the dead undergrowth was, Wot

suddenly had an idea. He wanted to explain it to the others, to tell

them what he was going to do, but for fear of alerting the beast all

that he said, whispered, was, “Get ready to run.”

On hearing this, Nott knew instinctively that he was up to something.

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Removing his heavy, cumbersome cloak, he told Kakuri to be ready

for anything.

Deep within the bush, Wot fumbled with two pieces of wood. You

see, he had recalled his Boy Scout days, when they had shown him

how to make fire without matches. He had never tried to do it since

then. He desperately hoped he could still manage it. Placing the first

piece of wood flat upon the ground, Wot held the other piece

vertically on top of it. Rubbing his palms backwards and forwards,

around it, spinning the stick, Wot tried to make fire. One minute

passed; no fire. Two minutes passed; still no fire. Three minutes

passed; yet still no fire. As the minutes ticked away, the urgency of

this operation grew. When the fourth minute had passed, Wot’s hands

felt like it was they, not the wood, that was going to erupt into

flames, but he kept on rubbing. Beads of perspiration trickled down

his face. Then, a wisp of smoke, almost too small to notice, escaped

from the dry timbers. Spurred on, Wot increased his valiant efforts

exponentially. Faster and faster his hands went, back and forth, back

and forth. His heart pounded, his hands ached, but he kept on going,

kept on rubbing. Suddenly flames erupted from the piece of wood on

the ground. Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Wot placed the other

piece upon it. Gathering up bits and pieces of dead plant material, he

piled them upon it. The flames grew bigger.

Looking out from under the bush, Wot could see that Kakuri and

Nott having already detected the wisps of escaping smoke were at

the ready. Although the beast was almost upon him, it had not yet

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noticed anything suspicious. Luck was with him. Gathering more

grass and twigs – anything that might conceivably burn – Wot placed

them over the burning wood. Heaping more and more grass and

twigs on top of the burning embers, Wot shaped a little mountain out

of it all, knowing that soon, very soon, the whole caboodle would

ignite. His timing would have to be perfect. Drawing up two huge

armfuls of dry kindling, Wot took a last careful look at the situation

outside. Kakuri and Nott were both at the ready, the beast was still

sniffing the air for clues as to his exact whereabouts, and the

building, the Seat of the Axis was phasing back into view. Inspecting

his little mountain, Wot saw fire erupting. Dropping the two armfuls

of kindling upon it, he waited for it to ignite. WHAM, the whole

caboodle exploded in a fireball of bright colours, scorching both him

and the dry bush.

This was the signal Kakuri and Nott had been waiting for. Dashing

away from their places of concealment, they ran like never before.

The combusting bush startled the Dragonsaur. It stood there

dumfounded, inhaling the smoke and the fumes, the terrible flames

burning, searing into it. Shrieking with pain, the Dragonsaur tried to

evade the smoke and the heat. However, it was too late the damage

was done. Trying desperately to remain upright, it swayed unsteadily,

then it collapsed in a heap.

Running as fast as their legs would carry them, Kakuri and Nott

approached the blasted out hole in the Seat of the Axis. Without a

backwards glance, without looking to see if Wot was okay, they ran

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through it. They were gone.

Despite making a safe retreat to the rear of the bush, Wot had

suffered a good singeing. His face and hands were as black as coal,

he had scorch marks around his eyes, nose and lips, and his heavy

cloak was smouldering upon him. The smoke, having penetrated to

his clothes beneath, had turned them almost as black as his face.

When he saw Kakuri and Nott escaping the beast, and entering the

Seat of the Axis via the blasted out hole, Wot whooped with delight.

That very same hole was also his goal. Although the burning bush

had hurt the creature it was not out for the count by any stretch of the

imagination, Wot fully realised this. Watching the beast with a wary

eye (it was beginning to stir) he counted the seconds as the structure

faded from view. You see, it was imperative that he worked out

exactly when it would reappear, and plan his run accordingly.

In fifteen seconds, the Seat of the Axis rematerialized. Wot needed

fifteen seconds to get away from the beast and run through the

hole…

Twenty, nineteen: the beast is out cold.

Eighteen, seventeen: the fire is almost gone.

Sixteen: Wot is ready to go.

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Fifteen: now is the time to begin.

Fourteen: Wot is approaching the beast.

Thirteen: his heart is pounding so much.

Twelve: the beast is lying so still.

Eleven: the beast opens an eye.

Ten: its head rising, it roars.

Nine: Wot runs to the left.

Eight: the beast makes a lunge at Wot.

Seven: Wot runs to the right.

Six: the building is phasing back in.

Five: Wot can see his two friends.

Four: setting fire to his hat, Nott throws it at the beast.

Three: the flaming hat scares the beast.

Two: the beast flies away.

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One: Tearing through the hole in the wall, Wot is safe with his

friends.

“Phew!” Wot exclaimed. “For a while, there, I wasn’t sure if I was

going to make it!”

“Nor was I, old buddy,” Nott replied. “I had to sacrifice my good hat,

you know! I hope you appreciate that!”

“I do, old friend, I really do,” he answered. “Though one thing

puzzles me...”

“And what might that be?”

“How did you manage to set fire to it?”

“With my trusty old lighter, of course,” Nott replied, showing him

the said lighter.

“Oh,” Wot mumbled, eyeballing the lighter. “I could have done with

that a few minutes ago. My hands are still aching!”

“Why don’t you carry a lighter?” Nott asked, though already

knowing the answer (that he considers them dangerous).

“You two are a real odd pair,” said Kakuri, butting in. “You really

are.”

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“Us?” said Wot.

Why?” asked Nott.

“Of course,” she replied. “Have you any idea what you both look

like, the state you are in?”

Inspecting themselves, Wot and Nott, however, saw nothing wrong

with their appearance. “What do you mean?” they asked.

“Look at yourselves, she said. “Nott, your suit is so tatty it looks

like it was a giveaway! And as for you, Wot,” she continued, “your

appearance has more in common with overdone turkey, than a man.”

The two friends looking again, this time seeing with her eyes, burst

out laughing.

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Chapter Two

An Invisibility Deception

Having gained access to the building, the Seat of the Axis, it soon

became evident to Wot, Nott and Kakuri that it was as strange on the

inside as on the outside. The structure, consisting of only the one

large room, had walls lined with the same shiny material as on the

outside. In there, at ground level, they felt no sense of the building

fazing in and out, except for when they looked through the blasted

out hole, that is. From their perspective, looking through it, it was the

world outside that was vanishing and reappearing. When the world

outside faded from sight it was replaced by a blackness, an

incredibly unsettling blackness. The building had a strange feel to it,

a feeling that neither Wot, nor Nott or even Kakuri were able to

explain.

When they had first spotted the structure, from atop the ridge, it was

quite clear that it was a building of great size. From within, however,

this did not ring true. Yes, it was roomy, but the interior somehow

felt smaller than that which its exterior promised. This strangeness

did not stop there. The difference in perception of size was only the

beginning; there were many other strange things happening within

the Seat of the Axis, some more apparent than others...

Suddenly, an object that could only be the Axis of Perpetual Time

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itself caught their attention. Dominating the entire room, it was huge,

reaching almost to the ceiling. The Axis, an immense circular disc

mounted on a vertical shaft within a circular cage, was in effect a

giant gyroscope. Moreover, the colours generated by its spinning

disc were spellbinding. The Axis, its disc spinning fast yet in

complete silence, balanced on a rod, a pedestal of sorts protruding

from the floor. The top, free and unhindered, swayed this way and

that.

“This, this machine controls time in Onisha,” said Wot. “But how

does it do it – and more importantly why? Do you know anything

about it, Kakuri?” he asked.

Answering, telling him that she had heard mention of it a long time

ago, Kakuri unfortunately admitted that she had no idea how it

worked.

“We have come all this way,” said Nott, pointing at the Axis, “to fix

this, this thing. But – and correct me if I am wrong – it does not

appear to be broken.”

Neither Kakuri nor Wot answered; they were as confused as Nott by

the spinning contraption before them.

Suddenly, the Axis shaking violently upon its pedestal showed them

that something was most definitely wrong with it. The rotating disc

slowed and all of the fantastic luminous colours it had been

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generating faded. Banging and clattering noisily, swaying back and

forth upon its pedestal, the Axis jumped clear of it.

“Look out!” shouted Wot, “It’s going to come crashing down!” The

three friends scrambled away, seeking cover.

“No! It’s okay now. It’s stopped, look!” said Wot, pointing at it. “It’s

settled down, back to normal.”

The Axis, returning to its former state, span silently as if nothing had

happened.

“Well, at least we can see what is wrong with it,” said Nott. “Does

anyone have any idea what can be causing it?” he asked hopefully.

Shaking her head, Kakuri said no.

Approaching the Axis, Wot inspected the mechanism at close

quarters. Leaving him to it, Kakuri and Nott hoped he might gleam

some inspiration from the curious machine.

Wot studied the mechanism for a considerable time, so long his

friends grew tired of waiting. Retiring to a corner of the room, they

sat down and rested, chatting. While seated there, Nott told Kakuri

that someday, if he ever found a woman with enough patience to put

up with him, he hoped to settle down and marry. Kakuri laughed on

hearing this. She told him that if they succeeded, and if everything

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returned to normal, she wanted to become a teacher of the old ways,

the Mystic arts. “I want to educate our children,” she said, “so they

will value their heritage. Then, this – Miafra and all that he stands

for – will never happen again.” Their chatting slowed. They were

tired, the day’s activity having drained them of energy. Sitting,

propped against the soft wall of the Seat they soon fall fast asleep

In the centre of the room, up close and personal with the Axis, Wot

was still very much awake. He had studied, inspected and pondered

the machine in every way imaginable but the root of the problem

evaded him. The Axis appeared quite normal insofar as his limited

knowledge of the matter informed him. As it quietly and speedily

rotated before him, its luminescent colouring reminded him of the

dragonflies of Ogbo Island. He thought…he thought...he thought...

“Perhaps their brilliance is the way to the answer,” he whispered.

Thinking some more, he whispered even quieter, “I think...I think the

abundance of vibrant colours in Ogbo island, how it was in all of

Onisha, is how I must see it...” Speaking louder, he said, “The

luminescent colourings created by the Axis and those of Ogbo Island

are one and the same, they are inked – I am sure of it!”

In a flash of pure inspiration, it then came to him. “The colours...” he

said, speaking louder, stronger, “…they faded! The powers alive in

the Axis are the very same ones as those in the Mystics, be they alive

or dead! Without the Axis, all will be lost. If it were to stop spinning

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time will also stop, with no hope of restarting. In so doing, the first

part of Miafra’s plan will come to fruition!”

Understanding that Miafra’s power was interfering with the Axis,

Wot realised that it had not yet actually stopped. “There are immense

powers involved,” he said. “This was the reason why the Axis is still

running. However, with each new assault upon it, changes occur,

changes that alter time and space – perhaps forever. If the Axis falls

off its pedestal, time will be no more. Although time has appeared to

stop,” said Wot, whispering again, “all is not lost, not yet... The

process of stopping time has to run its due course. There is still

hope...”

“These interruptions have to be stopped, but how is that possible?”

he said. Then he had an idea. “Hmm, if we could shield the Axis

from Miafra and his influence, perhaps time will return to normal! I

wonder...”

Fast asleep in the corner of the room, Kakuri and Nott did not hear

Wot’s deliberations; they were blissfully unaware of the many trials

still awaiting them.

“But how can we shield it from him, the madman,” Wot mused,

“when he knows where it is? If the Axis is to be shielded, it must be

done in such a way that he does not know it is so.” Sitting down, Wot

pondered the possibilities further…

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Far away, in Onisha City, a dragonfly having returned to its original

size and form returned to Miafra. Perched upon his outstretched,

gloved hand it listened to the emperor’s new orders. Miafra

whispered, “You have failed me, little one. You allowed the

interlopers to pass into the Seat of the Axis.” Waving his free hand

above the loyal insect, Miafra said, “Go back, back and stand guard,

for the Protectors are coming. The interloping Outlanders and the

traitor girl will pay dearly for their interference.”

The light shining through the tall, narrow windows changed from

white to black and back again as the building slipped in and out of

reality.

When next he stood up, looking through the high, tall windows

above him, Wot saw black alternating with black, “It must be night

time in Onisha,” he said. Walking over to Kakuri and Nott, he shook

them, saying, “Wake up, wake up! I have a plan, to save the Axis!”

“Hmm, what did you say?” Nott mumbled, rolling over, trying to get

comfortable again. “Leave me alone, I’m tired.”

Sitting up, yawning, Kakuri asked, “How is it, the Axis?”

“It’s the same as before,” Wot replied, glancing back at it.

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“Did you say you have a plan to save the Axis?” Nott asked, rubbing

his sleepy eyes.

“Yes, I did. Well, at least I think I have...”

“You either have or you haven’t,” Nott snapped. “Which is it?”

Ignoring his curt remark, Wot continued, “We can’t stop Miafra, at

least not for the moment, so we must hide the Axis from him.”

“Hide the Axis?” Nott barked. “It’s as large as a house! What do you

intend doing with it? Dig a hole and bury it, maybe?”

“Hush,” said Kakuri, annoyed at his unhelpful interjections.

“We must hide it,” Wot insisted. “There is no other way. We can do

it,” he said, “by creating a crack in the dimensional barrier between

our two worlds.”

“The dimensional barrier?” Nott barked even louder than before.

“What do you know about such a thing?”

Casting Nott a glance so sharp, so severe it would have curdled

butter, Wot stopped him dead in his tracks. “Sorry,” Nott whimpered.

“Please go on.”

“It is not as hard as it might sound,” said Wot. “We already know

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that we are occupying the same space, but in different dimensions.

All that we need is a door, like the one in the Christmas card.”

“You might have something in that old buddy, go on,” said Nott,

listening intently, intrigued by what he was saying.

“Well, if we can create this door, and if we can open it, if only for a

brief moment, I am sure we can transport the Axis – and the entire

building it is in – to safety. Thus removed, it will be safe from

Miafra’s touch, at least for the moment...” Wot continued, though

sounding less confident, “The only thing is...the Axis is needed to

regulate time and reality...” Lost for words, his voice trailed off.

“However,” he whispered, finding new ones, “if the Axis was

transported to Earth, but its power was left in Onisha...that would

solve the problem!”

“Hmm”, said Nott. “If only we were quantum physicists.”

Waving her arms, looking very excited, Kakuri said, “Perhaps this

can be done. I remember my father once telling me a story, a legend,

about how the ancient Mystics transported objects. With the right

Mystic Rhyme,” she said, “and if the intent is honourable, an object

can be transported, this is fact. If,” she continued, “we were are able

to go one step further, giving the appearance an object was

deliberately transported, when in reality it is still there, we might,

just might pull it off, fooling him!”

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Wot looked interested. Nott appeared confused. Kakuri continued,

“Instead of transporting the Axis to Earth, and having to deal with all

the problems this entails, we can instead give the appearance that we

have done it. In reality, it will be in exactly the same place as before.

Is that clear?”

“Not really,” the two Outlanders answered.

Despite their confusion, Kakuri continued, “As long as Miafra thinks

the Axis has gone he cannot touch it. Time will be safe, albeit

temporarily. That is all we need, time!” The two Outlanders, coming

round to her way of thinking, asked her to explain further. “It’s easy,

believe me!” she replied. “All that we need are two Mystic Rhymes;

the first to transport the Seat of the Axis through the Dimensional

Barrier, to Earth, where it will remain for a split-second.” Kakuri

was so excited she could hardly contain her enthusiasm. “At the

exact moment the building disappears, the second rhyme will cut in

to preserve the scene, without it. On the Seat’s return, the second

Mystic Rhyme will cut in, concealing it. ”

Nodding their approval even though perplexed by what she was

saying, Wot and Nott agreed to her plan. Kakuri continued, “Though,

I have to admit the second rhyme, the one to preserve and conceal,

will be hard to create. In effect, one rhyme will be trying to cancel

out the other.” Turning, facing Wot, she said, “But I have faith in

you, Wot. I am sure you can do it, create the Rhymes.” On hearing

this, Wot tried to convey his doubts as to how he might do it, but

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Kakuri began speaking again, she said, “Now that we are agreed, I

think we should get some rest… It’s late; we have a big day ahead of

us tomorrow.”

29th December

Black, white, black, white shining in through the tall windows; it was

morning. Kakuri was the first to awaken. It was with a feeling of

hope that she did so, but also some trepidation. Having no intention

of conveying these feelings to Wot and Nott, for they had enough to

contend with already, she sat cross-legged upon the floor, staring at

the black, white, black, white outside. She knew only too well that

her plan was a big gamble, that their lives might well depend upon

its success. Suddenly, the loud grinding noise the Axis had made the

previous evening began again. It was under attack! The noise,

growing louder by the second, bore out Kakuri’s feelings of

trepidation. The shimmering, spinning apparatus vibrated,

shuddered, shook so violently, Kakuri feared it might jump off its

pedestal at any moment.

The two lads waking with a jolt, seeing the Axis grinding,

shuddering, devoid of all, were helpless to do anything but watch.

Swaying wildly, erratically, the Axis jumped off its perch. They were

sure it was in its fatal, final moments, but then it stopped, returning

to its former way. This time, however, the alternation rhythm of

black and white outside was much faster.

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Although this attack upon the Axis was more severe than the

previous evening, the three friends were able to deal with it

positively, for they now had a plan. They would save the Axis, or die

trying.

“Wow!” said Nott, trying to cover his nervousness with jest. “That

sure was something!”

The three friends, walking over to the Axis, to see if there was any

damage incurred, saw nothing to speak of, apart from a few scratches

and marks on the pedestal it was intact.

“Is anyone hungry?” Wot asked (food being his way of dealing with

the tension).

“Yes” said Kakuri, “now that you mention it I am. However, I don’t

think the little people are anyway near.”

“I realise that,” Wot replied, producing three items from out of his

pockets. “I have some fruit,” he said. “See? I picked them yesterday.

Do you know what they are, Kakuri?” he asked. “And, more

importantly, are they safe to eat?” He presented the fruits for her

inspection.

Seeing them, she smiled, replying, “They are fizzing fruits, and they

are very good to eat. Children love them.”

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“Fizzing fruit, you say?” he asked. “It’s a strange name for a fruit!”

Laughing, she said, “Go on, try one.”

Gazing down at the fruit, Wot inspected them in detail. They were

golf ball sized, circular and dark brown in colour. The exterior had

the appearance of polished wood, like fresh conkers, and it was soft

and pliable. Undecided if he should bite it, break it open or simply

peel it, Wot hesitated.

Laughing again, Kakuri said, “Begin at the top. Peel off some of the

skin... Make a small opening.”

“Is this the top?” Wot asked, showing her the fruit.

“Yes, it is,” she replied. “After you have made the opening, lift it up

to your mouth, then squeeze it and drink the juice.”

Following her instructions, Wot peeled off a small portion of the

skin, revealing a rich purple coloured interior that consisted of large

fleshy seeds. Raising the fruit over his upturned mouth, he squeezed.

FIZZ. The juice dripping out from the fruit tasted incredibly fizzy,

like a million bursting bubbles inside his mouth – and they so good.

Laughing again, Kakuri explained, “When you squeezed the fruit

you caused a chemical reaction within it, creating a natural soda pop

drink. What do you think of the flavour?” she asked.

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“What do I think of the flavour?” Wot replied, smiling from ear to

ear. “It’s fantastic! It’s stupendous! It tastes like chocolate, mango

and vanilla! Wow, wow, wow!” Giving it another squeeze, Wot

enjoyed a second drink of the wonderful liquid. The taste was so

incredibly good he was sorely tempted to keep the remaining fruit

for himself. However, his good nature prevailed and he offered them

to his companions.

On sampling the fruit, Nott found himself wishing for more. He said,

“If I had this fruit, back home, I would make millions of pounds,

selling them.” Pulling his fruit apart, he said, “I will save the seeds

and bring them back with me, so I will.” Watching his crazy-mad

antics, Kakuri laughed again.

Refreshed from their fruit tasting experience, the time had arrived to

create the Mystic Rhymes necessary to carry out their plan. “It’s up

to you now, Wot,” said Nott, urging him on. “And the best of British

luck,” he added just for good measure.

Sombre and tense, sitting cross-legged upon the floor in one of the

corners of the building, Wot cleared his mind of all thoughts bar one.

It looked smaller than on the previous evening. With the fabric of

time and space eroding things, so, Wot knew that he had to work

fast. Closing his eyes, he opened his mind to the words he would

need…

Fully refreshed after a good night’s sleep, the words flowed freely

- 29 -


into Wot. Words, however, were not enough. He had to choose the

right ones for the job…

Words, words, words, time, conceal, unique, good, honour, heal.

Words, words, words, so many different words…

Finally, after much thought and consternation Wot felt he had chosen

the correct words from the many hundreds that had entered his brain

in those few short minutes. Withdrawing his little book, he wrote

down the following…

#1 Mystic Rhyme:

In the name of all good within this land,

By the power of Mystic Rhyme,

For all that was here and now is gone,

We must bring back the moments in time.

I ask for this help, in honour I’m bound,

To keep this fair land so alive,

The Axis in danger must be protected, I know,

- 30 -


That’s why we are here and we strive.

Across the partition, ‘twixt Onisha and Earth,

Open the portal to this great divide,

Send the Axis and its resting abode,

There and back in a second, to hide.

Despite making a few last minute adjustments to the second Mystic

Rhyme, Wot felt that it was still not yet quite right. It read...

#2 Mystic Rhyme:

Preserve the vista, where the shelter has gone,

Make it so and let it remain,

On return of the Axis let its new cover be seen,

The perception, so created remain.

Although he still felt the second rhyme was lacking in something,

Wot found it impossible to secure better words, so standing up he

strolled across to the others.

- 31 -


“How did it go old friend?” Nott asked hopefully.

“Well, I finished them,” he replied. “Though, I am not entirely happy

with the second one.”

“We have every faith in you,” Nott told him. “Don’t we, Kakuri?”

She nodded politely.

“Come on, let’s have a look-see,” said Nott. Wot handed him the

book. After studying it, Nott said, “Hmm, I see what you mean; the

second one is a bit thin on the ground. Is that the best you can do?”

“Hush up,” Kakuri chided, trying to save Wot’s feelings.

Nott’s curt remark dented what little confidence Wot had in the

second rhyme even further and he offered to return to the corner, to

try again.

Realising that he had gone too far, Nott apologised. “I’m sorry, Wot,”

he said, “I am sure it will do just fine.”

With time being of the essence, they agreed to proceed with the

rhymes as they were. For their strategy to succeed split-second

timing was imperative. They needed a plan of action...

“Can I use your book to write down the details of our action plan,

old buddy?” Nott asked, extending his hand.

- 32 -


Although Wot’s book of poems was incredibly precious to him, they

were in desperate time, so he offered it to Nott without saying a

word.

“Pencil?”

“Sorry! Here you go.”

“Okay, this is how I see it,” Nott explained. “Firstly, we must be

outside this structure, back in Onisha, before the first Mystic Rhyme

is recited, otherwise we will be a part of the illusion of concealment.

Secondly, we must to keep our eyes peeled in case that Dragonsaur

returns. Thirdly, let’s get to it.”

The hole in the wall of the Seat of the Axis was now (like the entire

building) smaller. It was going to prove a tight squeeze for Wot to

inch his way through.

“The intervals in which we can pass through the hole are too fast for

us all to go at once,” said Nott. “It’s one at a time. Right, who will be

first?” he asked.

“Can I go first,” said Kakuri.

Stepping in front of her, barring her way, Wot said, “No, I must go

first. There may be unexpected dangers on the far side.”

- 33 -


Protesting, Kakuri said, “No! It must be me! You two are a team,

called here especially by Umahia. In the overall plan, I am as

nothing. It must be me who goes first.” Then she added, “And you

know, I can look after myself, Wot.” Seeing her point Wot

reluctantly agreed, though he insisted she was most definitely not

nothing.

“Right, Kakuri, are you ready?” said Nott. She nodded. “At my

command run through the hole as fast as you can. But remember; be

on your guard…just in case there might be anything lurking.”

Waiting, watching the rhythm of changing light and darkness, Nott

suddenly yelled, “GO!” With that, Kakuri ran through the hole, to

Onisha.

In Onisha, Kakuri found everything the same as before, everything

except for the Seat of the Axis that was fading in and out faster than

at any time previous. Every time the building reappeared, Kakuri

could see Nott looking out from it. Waving at her, he asked, “Kakuri,

are you all right?”

“Yes, I am fine,” she replied, waving back at him.

Turning to Wot, Nott said, “It’s your turn now. Are you ready?”

“It might be a tight squeeze, though,” he answered, eyeballing the

diminishing hole in the wall.

- 34 -


Pointing outside, Nott said, “It’s the same procedure as with Kakuri.

On my command run through the opening as fast as you can. Oh, I

almost forgot, keep an eye out for that Dragonsaur!” Once again,

Nott watched the rhythm of alternating black and white, timing his

friend’s exit to it. White, black, white, “GO!” he yelled at the top of

his voice. “GO, GO, GO!” Hearing these words, Wot sprang into

action, but the diminishing size of the hole made it difficult for him

to squeeze through. “HURRY!” Nott shouted, pushing, trying to

squeeze his friend through the opening. Slowly, ever so slowly Wot

began to pass through the blasted out hole. Watching the changing

patterns of light and darkness, Nott shouted, “STOP, it’s too late!

Wait! ” Wot, however, did not hear him. Having slipped through the

hole at the wrong time, he had passed into darkness beyond…

- 35 -


Chapter Three

A Dark Place Within,

And Fighting the Beast

Nott was gutted; his life-long friend was gone – but to where?

Shaking with fright, shouting to Kakuri who was by now phasing

back in, he told her what had happened, how Wot had disappeared

into the darkness. Returning through the blasted out hole, Kakuri

asked what she could do, to help bring him back.

“What can you do?” Nott bemoaned. “What can anyone do to save

him?” Staring into the inky blackness, their eyes searched for their

missing friend.

Somewhere deep within the all-encompassing blackness, Wot was

still very much alive, though unaware of his friends’ desperate calls

to him. You see, when he passed through the hole, into the blackness,

he had entered another realm of existence. The enormity of this alien

experience overwhelmed his three dimensional, human senses.

Remaining motionless until his eyes became accustomed to the

darkness, Nott hoped he might see where he had landed.

Unfortunately, this did not happen. The realm, the place that he

found himself in was a place of total blackness; no light entered or

- 36 -


left – it was impossible to see anything.

Although he was unable to see, Wot had his remaining senses to aid

him, senses that compensating for loss of sight began to work harder,

telling him that he was standing somewhere, yet also nowhere – in a

non-place. Although he could not see with his eyes, he could see. He

could not hear, but could hear. Somehow, his remaining senses were

compensating for the missing one. He had new ways of seeing,

feeling and understanding. Using these senses, Wot realised there

were others, bodies, there along with him. He could not see them in

the conventional way, but saw them nevertheless. These bodies,

these people – and so many of them – were now approaching him...

“Who are you?” he cried out, symbolically pushing them away with

his hands.

No reply.

“I know you are there,” he said. “I can see you.”

The bodies, the people approaching him stopped dead in their tracks

when they heard this.

“I can see you, all of you,” Wot insisted. “There are so many of you

standing here around me. Will you, can one of you please tell me

where I am?”

- 37 -


A voice, a quiet voice, a soft voice, a voice almost without hope

broke the silence, saying, “We know you are here, but we cannot see

you… How, then, can you see us?”

“I, I don’t know,” said Wot. “I can’t see you in the normal way, but I

can see you.” Trying to explain it better, Wot continued, “It’s almost

as if I see you in my brain. In my mind’s eye, I can see a scene – it’s

in black and white – of silvery figures. These figures are you.”

A different voice broke in, saying, “We can tell by your accent that

you are not from Onisha… Are you an Outlander?”

“Yes,” Wot replied. “I am an Outlander, from Earth. My name is

Wot.” Happy that he was telling them this, he continued, “Me and

my best friend Nott were sent for by the Grand Mystic, Umahia.”

There was a sound of excited murmurings amongst those

surrounding him. Wot continued, “Umahia asked for our help...he

asked us to help him defeat Miafra.” More excite murmurings. “We

have so much to do, so little time in which we can do it, and all that I

am doing is wasting my time standing here talking to you.” Feeling

that he might have insulted them, Wot added, “No insult intended. I

have to get out from here – so much depends on it.” The

murmurings grew louder and louder, then another voice said,

“Umahia asked for your help?”

“Yes,”

- 38 -


“To defeat Miafra?”

“Yes, I have already told you that.”

“If what you say is true you are a friend to us, to all of us in this dark

place,” said the voice.

Hearing this, Wot breathed a sigh of relief. “I am very pleased to

hear that, I can assure you,” he replied. “But who are you, where am

I, and what is this place?”

The first voice that had spoken, said, “We are the ones who spoke

up, who questioned Miafra. From the very beginning, we queried his

intentions, his aims; we did not believe his false promises. We

wanted to see him gone. We foolishly believed he might listen to

reason, but he didn’t. We incurred his wrath; we were at nothing

against his power, we stood no chance of succeeding. Miafra,

however, did not kill us. No. He wanted to make us pay for all

eternity for what we had done, so he sent us here, to this dark place.

He wanted to make an example of us, so that any others, who might

be thinking of questioning his actions, would think again, lest they

also endured the same fate.”

“But where are we?” Wot asked.

The same voice continuing, said, “We are in a place between worlds,

between Onisha and Earth. It is a place, a limbo, between realities; a

- 39 -


place where no light can enter or leave. Despite this, Wot, you can

see! You must be special, yourself and your Outlander friend.” There

was a pause, and then the voice continued, it said, “If Umahia asked

for your help, he believes you can do it. You are our best hope – our

only hope – to help us escape from this darkness, this state of

perpetual despair.”

“Help us!” the voice implored. “Help all in Onisha,” In his mind’s

eye Wot could see the figures, every last one of them, shuffling,

drawing closer and closer, crying over and over again, “Help us, help

all in Onisha.” “Help us, help all in Onisha.” “Help us, and help all

in Onisha.” “Help us, and help all in Onisha.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding his hands to his ears. “That is what

we were trying to do, you know, before I ended up here. I cannot do

anything to help you, though, while I am stuck in this limbo.

Moreover, it grieves me to tell you that I have absolutely no idea

how to get out. It seems we are trapped here together...”

“But you have your powers, your gifts – use them!” The first voice

insisted. “That is why Umahia summoned you,” said another voice.

“Well, yes, Umahia did say something along those lines,” Wot

admitted. “But I think he overrated them, I feel so helpless.”

The voices pressing him further, said, “Think of your gifts, which of

them is the most powerful?”

- 40 -


“The power of the Mystic Rhyme, of course.” Wot replied without

any hesitation at all. Hearing this, the murmurs began again.

“If this is indeed so,” the first voice said, “you have the means to

break free. You have a power at your disposal that, with proper use,

can not only set us free from this terrible place, but also help to

defeat Miafra, never underestimate it.”

Promising to give it his best shot, Wot said, “I will do my utmost to

try and free you.” No sooner had he said this, did a germ of

inspiration enter his grey matter. Enswathed in the darkness,

whispering, Wot said, “If my power is truly within the Rhymes I

create, I will give them the spectacle they want. I will give them the

mother of all Rhymes.” Speaking louder, Wot informed them it

would take him a while to gather the words necessary, and that he

needed complete silence while doing it.

It was slow… creating, choosing, selecting the right words, the

correct words; trying to remember them without the luxury of being

able to record them into his book. Nevertheless, he pushed on

regardless and little by little the mother of all Rhymes came in to

being. He was determined to save Onisha, determined to defeat the

evil man, and doubly determined to win. Despite being in total

darkness, in his mind’s eye Wot could see the silvery forms watching

him intently. Beads of cold sweat trickled down his face, neck and

back, sticking his jumper to him.

- 41 -


The words came, but oh so slowly. The silence that he had asked for,

craved for, grew unbearable…

It could have been minutes or it could have been several hours when

he finished the rhyme (time meant nothing within that dark place).

Speaking, calmly, Wot said, “I think I have it, but I don’t know how

it will work, not exactly. Be prepared for anything!”

“We are ready, we are ready,” the voices replied. “And know you

this, Wot, no matter what happens, you have our deepest thanks.”

Wot could see the silver forms, the forsaken ones, waiting patiently

in the darkness for him to save them. He began…

“In the darkness of this limbo,

In the silence of this site,

At this point of desperation,

Bring the light and give them sight.”

At first nothing happened, nothing at all. However, as the seconds

ticked past, a chink of light appeared in the distance. Wot

continued…

- 42 -


“Bridge the gap from dark to light,

Connect it to the world outside,

Restore the hope that was in them,

Remove the fear and reverse the tide.”

The light grew stronger, brighter…

“Open up the door that’s hidden,

The door that trapped us in this spot,

Send us back to our origins,

Before we entered, and left to rot.”

Suddenly, a silent explosion of light of every imaginable colour –

and then some – ripped away the barrier, which had trapped them in

that dark place. Onisha lay ahead – they were free.

Despite this success, Wot continued reciting the mother of all

rhymes…

- 43 -


“Destroy this darkest fissure,

Wipe out all that remains,

Let no man be tormented,

Ever again by its hopelessness.”

It was finished, done. The tormented souls thus set free rushed

towards the beckoning light, to Onisha. Wot, however, remained

where he was, he stayed put, shocked by the enormous power he

unleashed. Suddenly, another series of explosions rocked above and

below the dark place. Acrid smoke filled his lungs. The terrific force

of these explosions tore apart the darkest of prisons. After watching

the last person exit the place, Wot ran for his life.

Coughing and spluttering, Wot found himself back in Onisha, outside

The Seat of the Axis from which Kakuri and Nott were still calling

him.

“Are you all right?” Nott asked, worried for his best friend.

“I think so...”

“When you disappeared,” said Kakuri, “we thought we had lost you.

Are you sure you are okay?” she asked.

- 44 -


“I’m okay, I really am,” he insisted, coughing.

Passing through the blasted out hole, Kakuri and Nott rejoined their

large friend, checking him over for injuries. When they were

satisfied that he was all right, Nott said, “You know, you were gone

for a full five minutes, where were you?”

“Five minutes!” Wot exclaimed. “Is that all?” They nodded that it

was so. Sitting, resting upon the grass, Wot told them where he had

been and all that had happened while he was there. “It sure was a

long five minutes,” he said, scratching his head, perplexed.

Intrigued by his story, Kakuri and Nott were happy that he had struck

successfully against the madman, Miafra.

Ever impatient, Nott wanted to get started again, so he said, “Come

on; don’t forget that Dragonsaur, it’s time we began. Are you ready,

Wot?”

“Me?” he asked. “Why me?”

“The Mystic Rhymes, that’s why. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?”

“Of course I haven’t forgotten,” Wot lied, trying to remember them.

“Can you give me a minute or two, though?” he asked, stalling. “I’m

still a bit shaky from my ordeal.”

- 45 -


Kakuri, looking very concerned, asked, “Are you sure you are

okay?”

“Hmm, yes,” he answered. “It’s just that everything is happening so

fast, it’s hard to keep pace with it all.”

“I know the feeling,” she said.

Remembering the Rhymes, Wot said, “It’s no use moping around,

old boy, pull yourself together and get on with it.” Standing up

straight, withdrawing his little book from his pocket (he felt good

seeing it again), Wot searched for the correct page.

“I must remember to write that rhyme,” he mumbled, fingering the

pages.

“Did you say something?” Nott asked.

“No, I was talking to myself. Let’s get on with it.”

Because the plan had been for the greater part Kakuri’s idea, she felt

responsible for its success. Adamant that it succeed, she insisted they

spare no effort carrying it out. “Wot, are you really alright?” she

asked him again, still concerned for his fitness to proceed.

“I am fine, don’t worry about me,” he replied. Finding the page, Wot

glanced over the words he had written. Clearing his throat, he said.

- 46 -


“This is the first part, are you ready?”

“Yes, go on,” Kakuri answered. Nott told him that he was ready.

“In the name of good within this land,

By the power of the Mystic Rhyme,

For all that was here, and now is gone,

We must bring back the moments in time.”

I ask for help, in honour I’m bound,

To keep this fair land so alive,

The Axis in danger must be protected, I know,

That’s why we are here and we strive.

Across the partition, ‘twixt Onisha and Earth,

Open the portal to this great divide,

Send the Axis and its resting abode,

There and back in a second, to hide.”

- 47 -


Wot stood there, staring, his eyes glued to the Seat of the Axis,

waiting to see what might happen. Then it faded away, gone.

“You did it, you actually did it!” said Kakuri, jumping excitedly.

“But hurry! The next rhyme, read it – quickly.”

Wot continued…

“Preserve the vista, where the shelter has gone,

Make it so and let it remain,

On return of the Axis let its new cover be seen,

The perception, so created, remain.”

Nothing appeared to happen. Everything seemed the same. Neither

Nott, nor Wot or even Kakuri felt confident enough to proclaim the

Mystical Rhyme had actually worked. The Seat had gone all right,

that was for sure. But had it returned? Moreover, if it had, how

would they know?

As per usual, Nott was the first to grow impatient, he said, “Why are

we standing here? If the Seat has returned, surely we can touch it. In

addition, if we can touch it, that is proof enough for me. Come on,

let’s go over and find out.”

- 48 -


As they approached the Seat (if it really was there), it was perfectly

disguised, because they saw nothing of it not even a brick. Grass

now covered the land upon which it had stood. The landscape gave

no inkling whatsoever that anything unusual was going on. It was as

if the Seat of the Axis had never been.

Kakuri wanted to go first, to inspect it before the others. Nott,

however, would have none of it. He wanted to see for himself,

firsthand, if the Seat of the Axis was truly back. Running ahead of

them, he laughed, saying, “I will find out, first, so I will.” That he

most certainly did, because in his excitement, misjudging the

distance, he ran slap bang into the Seat of the Axis.

“Ouch, I bet that hurt,” Wot whispered to Kakuri.

“I hope he is alright,” said Kakuri. “Why is he always so impatient?”

“Always has been,” Wot replied. “Come on; let’s see if the blighter is

still in one piece.”

On reaching Nott, Kakuri and Wot found him lying on the ground,

unconscious, with a huge lump welling up on his forehead.

“That will be sore when he wakes up,” said Kakuri.

“It’s his own fault,” Wot answered. “It’s a good job he’s a tough little

nut.” After Kakuri had made Nott as comfortable as possible,

- 49 -


considering the circumstances, she strolled over to Wot who was

sitting on a nearby fallen tree trunk. Waiting for Nott to regain

consciousness, they chatted.

It was a good fifteen minutes before the little Outlander regained

consciousness, and when he did, holding his head, he groaned, “Oh

my god, my head is killing me. I feel like I’ve been run over by a

bus!”

Although Kakuri and Wot laughed at him, they did so discreetly, out

of earshot.

“At least you are okay, little mate,” said Wot. “You could have killed

yourself, you know!”

“If you call this okay,” Nott quipped, rubbing his head, “you have a

strange sense of humour.”

As the minutes passed and the pain in his head began to fade, Nott

gathered his thoughts. “Well,” he said, finally seeing the funny side

of his accident, “I did say I would be the first to find out if the Seat

had returned, and I did. Oh, my aching head!”

When the pain had reduced to only a dull throb, Nott gazed across to

Kakuri and Wot who were by now eating a fine meal. Standing up,

he wandered across and joined them. “Mmm, that sure smells good,”

he said. “Mind if I join you?”

- 50 -


“Of course you can,” said Kakuri. Sit down.”

Accepting the invitation, he sat on the ground. “You wouldn’t

happen to have some ice, would you?” he asked, pointing to the

lump on his forehead.

Having presupposed that he might have need of some, Kakuri

handed Nott ice wrapped in a cloth.

“Thanks,” he said. “Thanks also to The Orlu, our little friends that I

presume provided this splendid repast.”

“You’re welcome,” a voice replied from somewhere deep within the

shrubbery.

Having finished her meal, Kakuri, gazing across the beautiful vista,

relaxed, thinking how wonderful Gandu Point must have once been.

Suddenly, from out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw

something moving in the distance. Looking again, Kakuri’s heart

jumped with fright, for she saw – the Dragonsaur!

“Look, look up there, in the sky!” she shrieked. “it’s the

Dragonsaur! It’s coming back!” Abandoning their meal, Wot and

Nott, their eyes scanning the horizon, saw the unmistakable form of

the Dragonsaur returning.

The terrible creature was still a good way off. They wondered had it

- 51 -


also seen them. To make matters worse, the Seat of the Axis was

beginning to reappear. The second rhyme had not been powerful

enough to keep it hidden. Things had taken a turn for the worse and a

very bad turn at that.

Nott almost choked with fright when he saw the Dragonsaur. Kakuri

just sat there, unable to believe it was actually happening. After his

spell in Limbo, Wot, having a better idea of the power of Rhyme,

was determined to overcome the Dragonsaur. However, Kakuri and

Nott had to play their part in this action by buying him some

valuable time...

The Dragonsaur flew ever closer, its large, leathery wings supporting

it effortlessly in the morning sky. On its final approach, the ferocious

creature glided silently down, aiming for a specific spot in front of

the Seat of the Axis, the very same spot from which the band of three

had forced it from, earlier. Having landed the Dragonsaur strut back

and forth, thrashing its tail and roaring threateningly, re-imposing its

authority over the immediate area.

By now Wot, Nott and Kakuri had concealed themselves, once again

inside the Seat of the Axis. Seeing no sign of them, despite tasting

the air with its forked tongue, the Dragonsaur settled down in front

of the reappearing building.

If it had known how close the three comrades actually were, the

Dragonsaur might not have been so relaxed. Having re-entered the

- 52 -


Seat, the band of three hoped the cover it offered might gain them

some time, time Wot desperately needed to reformulate the Mystical

Rhyme.

Trying to reformulate the second Rhyme, while Kakuri and Nott

stood guard at the entrance, Wot sat on the floor, his face stuck

firmly into his little book. Writing frantically, desperately, his hand

was all over the place. His writing was a mess, a real mess. When the

ever-impatient Nott looked over Wot’s shoulder, and saw what he

had written, he could hardly believe his eyes. “What do you think

that is?” he barked. “Come on, you can do better than that!”

Realising how worked up his friend had become, he added, “Relax,

you are far too tense. We are safe here. Settle down and concentrate

properly. Don’t worry about anything else, that’s for us to deal with,

not you!”

Leaving Wot to his Rhyme, Nott approached Kakuri. She was

peering through the blasted out hole. Pointing to Wot, he said, “He is

all fired up, but shooting off in every direction. His writing is a mess,

a real mess, Kakuri; it looked like a mad-man had put pencil to

paper!”

“He’s feeling the pressure,” she replied. “Is there anything I can do

to help?” she asked.

“Now that you have mentioned it,” he replied, “have you any idea

how to evade that Dragonsaur, once we are outside again?”

- 53 -


“I’ve been thinking about that,” she said. “I am afraid that is has

learned from its previous encounter with us. This time fire will not

be an option. We need something else, something new to gain the

initiative.”

“Hmm, I agree – but what?”

“I don’t know,” she replied gloomily. “Don’t you have any ideas?”

“No, no I don’t.”

After he had sent the Dragonfly on its way, Miafra began planning

other ways of dealing with the troublesome interlopers, ways that he

was more certain of…

After Nott’s lecture, Wot had swiftly settled down to reformulate the

Mystic Rhyme. This time the words flowed freely and in little more

than fifteen minutes, he felt he had the Mystical words necessary for

the job. Rejoining Kakuri and Nott at the blasted out entrance,

waving his book high in the air, he said, “I have the words, I have the

Rhyme! I am certain of it!” However, they hardly noticed him.

Tapping Kakuri on the shoulder, trying to get her attention, Wot

asked, “Have I missed something?”

“What? Oh, sorry Wot,” she replied apologetically. “We were miles

away, watching the guard.”

- 54 -


“The guard? Oh, you mean the Dragonsaur. Why has that got you so

engrossed?” he asked, looking out through the hole.

“We were just admiring it,” she explained. “We were saying what a

magnificent creature it is. If it was not out to destroy us, that is. Look

at it,” she said, offering him no opportunity to challenge her. “It’s so

red, so strong, and so noble!”

“Noble?”

“Yes, noble!” she insisted. “It’s such a pity the gifts that Miafra

possess are not used for good... They are wasted on him.”

Scrutinising the Dragonsaur, Wot came around to her point of view.

“Okay,” he said. “I admit it’s a fine creature.” Turning away from it,

he added, “A creature whose time is up.” Allowing her no time to

interject, waving his little book, he said, “As I was saying…I am

ready. I have the words we need!”

“You have? That’s marvellous!” she said, giving him a hug.

Embarrassed by her sudden show of affection, Wot continued, he

said, “Are you ready, Kakuri?” She nodded a yes. “What about you,

Nott?” he asked.

“Ready and able,” he replied.

- 55 -


“Good, because the very instant I leave this building I must recite the

amended Rhyme. That means you and Kakuri will have to distract

the Dragonsaur long enough to allow me to finish the verse. Are you

really okay with that?”

“Yes, old friend, we are,” Nott answered for them both. “However,

there is one small item that you failed to consider.”

Shocked to hear this, because he thought he had covered everything,

Wot asked, “What have I forgotten?”

“That you will need a push through the hole, bigger than the one you

needed to get inside here again, because this building is still getting

smaller by the minute.”

“Hmm, yes, I had forgotten about that,” Wot replied, inspecting the

hole.

Standing in front of the hole, Wot made himself ready for the off.

“Don’t forget,” he said, “to follow hot on my heels!”

“We know, we know,” Nott answered. “Now in the hole with you.”

Once he was outside, back in Onisha, Wot required only a minute to

read out the amended Rhyme, a small yet potentially dangerous

minute...

- 56 -


With the Limbo between worlds destroyed, there was no possibility

of any of them falling into the darkness if their timing was wrong. In

order to keep the element of surprise it was imperative they left the

seat of the Axis and carried out their plan as quickly as possible.

Pushing like never before, Kakuri and Nott squeezed their rotund

friend through the blasted out hole. Once outside, the three friends

swung into action. Circling in front of Wot, Kakuri and Nott made

ready action, and all of this before the creature had time to react.

When the beast finally did react, when it realised that something was

indeed happening, it raised its huge head, roaring and snarling its

displeasure. With Nott rushing over to the left and Kakuri to the

right, and with both of them waving, shouting and generally making

a nuisance of themselves, the startled animal was bewildered.

Picking up a branch, Nott hit it on anything and everything he came

across. He was a veritable noisemaker. Kakuri, however, took a

different, more dangerous approach. She also picked up a large

branch, but hit-and-run. She struck the beast hard, and then ran away

from it. Every time Nott distracted the Dragonsaur’s attention with

his noisemaking, Kakuri snuck in and struck it hard. They fully

realised this strategy would have a limited lifespan. No matter how

dumb the creature happened to be, it would eventually ignore their

taunts and make one of them it sole target. That would be a very

dangerous situation indeed. Wot must make the best use of his

minute.

As Wot opened his little book (it was becoming decidedly tatty), he

- 57 -


began reading from it. Speaking in an authoritarian air, he said…

“I call on the powers of good in this land,

In the Brotherhood of Mystics birthplace,

Though they are now departed this world,

We call on their power and grace.

Assign it to us, restore the vista that was,

The shelter of deception around,

The Seat of the Axis must never be seen,

From top to its base in the ground.

Our mission is sincere and in honour we’re bound,

To fight for the good of this land,

For truth and integrity, candour and fidelity,

In Umahia’s name, please help with our plans.

Remove the insect that’s altered and changed,

- 58 -


The beast that now strikes at us hard,

Send it backwards so fast, to where it came from,

And take its creator right off of his guard.”

Kakuri and Nott did not hear Wot speaking, they were far too busy

running, shouting and banging while at the same time trying to avoid

becoming the Dragonsaur’s next meal.

As the last word departed Wot’s lips, he was so relieved to see that

something was happening. Slowly, ever so slowly, the Seat of the

Axis began to fade until it had all but disappeared. Hearing

something, he turned round and was desperately shocked to see the

Dragonsaur having grown tired of the game his friends had been

playing upon it, roaring, spitting its hate, was making a beeline for

Nott. Crouching, trying to hide behind a pitifully small tree, Nott

tried to evade its searching eyes. Licking the air for signs of Nott’s

whereabouts, the Dragonsaur grew closer and closer. Then, with a

swish of its powerful tail, it knocked the top off the tree, exposing

him.

“The second part, why doesn’t it work?” Wot cried out. “Did I make

another mistake?” he asked, afraid that he had. The beast, its jaws

dripping hot sticky saliva, came in for the kill. There were only

- 59 -


seconds remaining until Wot’s lifelong best friend was just a

memory…

Chapter Four

The Way Forward is Under

At first, it was faint, hardly noticeable at all, like the sound of wind

blowing somewhere far in the distance, but as it grew louder,

stronger and wilder, Wot knew this was no ordinary wind. This was a

tornado, a tornado of his making, an incredibly dangerous tornado

heading straight for the Dragonsaur and Nott. Dust, dirt and debris

flew high into the air, making it impossible to see, not even the short

distance across to his friend. As the whistling wind wrecked its

terrible fury, Wot found himself wondering whether the cure was

worse than the complaint. If Nott is still alive out there, he thought,

how can he possibly hold on to that tree in such a dire wind?

A gap suddenly appeared through dust. Wot spotted the Dragonsaur.

It was high in the twister, powerless to save itself. The confused

animal, unable to break free of the tornado, was like a piece of

discarded paper flying around and around within it. As the tornado

headed away, the winds eased around Wot and then they were gone.

Running across to the scraggy stump of a tree, Wot searched

frantically, desperately trying to find Nott. He had to know, he just

had to check on his old mate, to see whether he was alive or dead.

- 60 -


Sticks, branches, rock; debris of all kinds littered the entire area.

Then he saw him, he saw Nott crouching next to the stump, smiling

without a hair out of place.

“That’s what I call putting on a performance!” Nott exclaimed. “It

was absolutely amazing, Wot! Here I was in the middle of all that

wind, all that commotion, with things flying so fast around me...

Why, it even blew away that dragon thing! However, it never

touched me! The wind passed me by as if I was not even here! It was

weird, I tell you, weird and fantastic!”

Gob-smacked, Wot was so happy to see his little friend alive and

well.

Having ascertained that Nott was safe and in fine fettle, Wot’s

thought drifted to Kakuri, the incredibly brave Kakuri. “Where is

she?” he mumbled, hoping she had not suffered the same fate as the

Dragonsaur. “Kakuri, where are you?” he called out, rambling

around the debris strewn area, searching for her.

“Kakuri,” Nott called, “where are you? The Dragonsaur has gone,

you know!”

Despite calling and searching so valiantly for her, the two friends

were unable to find any trace of Kakuri. “It’s no use,” said Wot.

“She’s gone, lost in the wind.”

- 61 -


“No! No! No!” Nott protected. “I will not believe she has gone!

“Kakuri,” he called out at the top of his voice, “where are you?” His

head cocking to one side, he whispered, “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Shush!” he chided. “There it is again! It’s her, Kakuri – I am sure of

it!”

Listening, Wot also hear something, someone calling to them.

“Wot… Nott…It’s me, Kakuri. I am over here!”

Despite scanning the entire area, neither of the two friends could see

her. “Kakuri, we can’t see you!” they replied. “Where are you?”

Again, she called out, “Here, I am over here.” Her voice seemed to

be coming from the (invisible) Seat of the Axis. Confused, they

wondered if she had somehow become invisible along with it.

Stepping out from behind the invisible structure, Kakuri said, “Has

the storm gone?” Shocked, gobsmacked at seeing her suddenly

appear as if out of thin air, Wot and Nott were both lost for words.

Eying them curiously, she asked, “Are you boys okay?”

“Us?” they answered, “Yes, we are fine.”

- 62 -


“How did you get there, behind it?” Wot asked, pointing to the

invisible building.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” said Nott, butting in. “That sure was some

wind, Kakuri!”

“It certainly was,” she replied. “How I got here is really quite simple

to explain. Do you want to hear?”

“Yes, go on,” they answered.

“There’s nothing to it, really,” she began. “Plucking me clear off the

ground, the tornado carried my high in the sky. I thought my time

had come, I really did! The strange thing, however, is that no sooner

had it lifted me up, than it returned me to the ground, behind the

invisible Seat. It was extraordinary experience. That’s why you

couldn’t see me until I stepped out from behind it. I am sure it was

deliberate.” Looking at the terrible mess around them, Kakuri asked,

“Did everything go according to plan?”

“Do you see the Dragonsaur?” Wot replied, as proud as punch.

“No.”

“Do you see the Seat?”

“No, I do not,” she answered. “Is it really still here?”

- 63 -


“I am certain of it!” he proclaimed. “You were hidden behind it, so it

must have worked. Let’s go over and have a look-see.”

“Nott, are you coming, also?” asked Kakuri.

“No!” he insisted. “Not on your Nelly!”

“Oh, well,” Wot chuckled, “I suppose that’s understandable.”

Arriving at the Seat of the Axis, their hands running along the

invisible walls, Kakuri and Wot in no doubt it was indeed there.

“Well, that means everything went according to plan,” said Kakuri.

“And time has been protected, at least for the moment.”

“It’s true, Kakuri,” Wot answered. “It really is just for the moment.

We still have so much to do, to finish the job properly. That brings

me to the next item on our agenda,” he said. “Come on; let’s get back

to Nott…”

“Will you remind me what the next item on the agenda actually is,”

said Kakuri, the moment they rejoined Nott.

Instructing Kakuri and Nott to sit on a couple of rocks, which the

tornado had deposited, Wot began to explain what the next part of

their mission entailed. Standing there, walking back and forth in

front of them, he looked like a schoolteacher taking an outdoor

lesson (though in this case the pupils were adults). He told them the

- 64 -


next part of their mission entailed freeing the minds of all Onishians,

and in so doing return their independence and free will. “Remember

the words Miafra used,” he said, “when he was below the Citadel of

Composure.” Reading the Rhyme, one line at a time, with a

deliberate pause in-between them, Wot began...

“Darkest powers of darkness grow,

_________________________________

Darkest night, darkest sight,

_________________________________

Remove their light give me their might,

_________________________________

Their wills be only mine.”

“This is how Miafra instigated the deed,” Wot explained. “We must

study the verse fully.” Reading each line separately, discussing its

full meaning before proceeding to the next, he was careful not to say

the complete verse in its entirety, lest he empowered it again, and

confuse an already complicated situation even further. When they

had finished picking over the words of the Rhyme, Kakuri and Nott

understood the nature of the job in hand, to return the minds of the

- 65 -


people, from Miafra.

Without warning, the Amulet of Oxmosis began to energise with the

same red glow as before, projecting the now familiar visage of

Umahia before them.

“Greetings,” he said. “Well done, you have succeeded in the first part

of your mission. Each of you performed so admirably. I could have

done no better myself. Facing into the second part of your mission, I

am impelled to tell you that it also will be filled with many dangers,

some apparent and others less so. At all times you must be on your

guard, trust no one, and I mean absolutely no one, is that clear?”

They nodded a yes. Umahia continued, “You already know that your

task is to free the minds of the people from the insidious control

Miafra has instigated upon them. You must remove the fog that is

clouding their thoughts, only then can the people of Onisha be truly

free. Do not trust them, not yet, not any of them, until you have

achieved this! Is that understood?” They nodded again, holding on to

his every word.

“In order to restore the freewill of the people,” Umahia continued,

“you must restore the balance there was, the stability between man

and man, and between man and land. You must restore the balance

between objectivity and slavery, the balance between good and evil.

When Miafra sought power, total power, he eroded these balances,

these checks. Only when you have restored this equilibrium will the

Onishians be totally free.” Umahia’s image flickered and buzzed.

- 66 -


They knew his time was limited. Speaking again, he said, “By

entering the land you can restore this balance, it is only by joining it

can you find the answer. The way forward is under.”

“Nott,” said Umahia, “remember you gift, you know the way. Listen,

listen to the words from within.” Umahia’s voice trailed off as if he

was incredibly tired. Speaking one last time, he said, “I cannot stay,

it is not safe to do so...but before I go I warn you, to beware… The

Protectors are coming! They are many, well armed and travelling at

speed. You, however, are few... You must flee or do battle, the choice

is yours. I am away.” With that, his image faded into the nothingness

from which it had come.

- 67 -


Chapter Five

The Protectors are Coming!

“The protectors?” said Nott. “The Protectors – who are they?” he

asked nervously. Neither Kakuri nor Wot, however, had any idea

who they might be, making Umahia’s warning seem even more

ominous. Shivers of dread ran down their spines.

“Calm down, Nott,” said Kakuri. “You are no good to us like this.

We need your full concentration for the journey ahead; you above all

people cannot be panicking like this.”

Nott wanted to discuss it further, who the Protectors might possible

be, but seeing her point, he calmed down. Kakuri continued, she

said, “Firstly, we must work out in which direction to go. Secondly,

we must set off right away. With the Protectors coming – whoever

they are – we must make as much distance between ourselves and

them as is possible.” Stopping for a moment, she considered their

situation further. “Nott, we need your help,” she said. “Use your gift,

your power, to show us the way...” With that, he voice trailed off.

- 68 -


Nott knew only too well how much they were depending on him, and

that worried him. If he sent them off in the wrong direction, all might

be lost. Struggling with what he should do, he stood there as if he

was in a trance, silent, unmoving, unbreathing.

Becoming increasingly worried for Nott, who after several minutes

of standing perfectly still had begun to turn blue, Kakuri called out to

him, “Nott, are you alright?”

Falling to the ground with a thud, Nott was anything but alright.

“Quick, Wot!” Kakuri cried out as she dashed across to her fallen

friend. “He’s stooped breathing!”

Kneeling next to Nott, cradling his head in her hands, Kakuri bent

down and placed her lips over his, sending air rushing in to his lungs.

Lifting her head, she looked to see if he had resumed breathing. He

had not. After repeating this process repeatedly, she despaired that he

was still blue. Beginning to panic, fearing that he was gone, dead,

Kakuri leant over his small body, once again sending life-giving

oxygen rushing into his lungs. Despite her misgivings, Kakuri did

not intend to accept failure, would not accept losing her friend, so.

Suddenly, gasping for breath, Nott opened his eyes – he was alive!

Kakuri was so happy to see life return she leant down and kissed him

on the lips.

- 69 -


“Hey! What are you doing?” he protested, pushing her off, wiping

his lips.

Tears of happiness filling her eyes, she answered, “We thought you

had gone...”

“Gone? Gone where?” he asked.

Smiling at his innocence, Wot wiped a tear from his eye.

Eying them suspiciously, Nott said, “I think you have both gone

stark-raving mad! You asked me to find words – to seek the way, the

route we must take. Moreover, I hasten to add that I was doing quite

well, then BAM, I open my eyes and Kakuri is all over me! It’s all

very disturbing, I tell you, very disturbing indeed!” Seeing the funny

side of it, Kakuri laughed in a crying sort of way.

Struggling to his feet Nott had more pressing matters than his health

– or lack of it – on his mind. You see, while he was lying so still

upon the ground he had had a vision, a vision in which he found

himself floating high in the air. From that lofty vantage point, Nott

had seen the entire landmass of Onisha, at the centre of which was a

light. This light had shown him the way forward to Wan, the Temple

of Wan. “Wan is our destination,” he said confidently. “It’s in a

south-easterly direction.” Considering what Umahia said, to trust no

one, he added, “I think it’s best if we try to avoid the local

population. If we set off this way,” he explained, pointing the way

- 70 -


forward, “it will offer us a nice walk in the hills. Come on, let’s get

cracking.” Setting off briskly, he said, “COME ON, the Protectors

are coming!”

The Protectors were indeed coming; they were now less than five

miles away.

In his vision, Nott had seen more than simply the way forward, but

he decided not to share this information with the others, at least not

for the moment...

The track ahead began to rise, and in little more than an hour they

found themselves high amongst tree-covered hills. These trees,

although similar in appearance to the Yola trees (hand trees) of Ogbo

Island, had most of their colours drained from them. Unfamiliar birds

flew past, some as large as eagles and others so small they hardly

noticed them at all, and all of them with the same washed out

appearance as the trees. Wondering why the colours were still

missing, considering the fact they had saved the Axis of Perpetual

Time, Wot said, “Ah, well, I suppose there are more to these things

to this land than meets the eye...” The track rose ever higher. Snow-

covered peaks lay ahead. From here on the weather would be turning

decidedly colder.

Following the meandering track, picking their steps carefully, the

- 71 -


band of three’s pace slowed. This was not all bad, mind you, for it

allowed them to admire the natural beauty around them. The trees

became ever more stunted the higher they advanced into the

mountains until they finally petered out altogether, replaced by blue

coloured shrubs and heathers. Without having proper clothing to

protect them, the intense cold bit hard into the band of three, but still

they pressed on, higher ever higher.

Piled high against the huge boulders strewn erratically about, the

snow was everywhere. Their progress was slow and increasingly

dangerous. The only places offering a reasonably safe foothold were

the parts of the track, every mile or so, that widened onto little

landings. On one such landing it Nott decided they take a much-

needed rest break. Stripping down to their waists, the two lads had a

welcome and much-needed wash in a cool mountain stream running

down the sheer rock face. Rinsing away the last vestiges of clay

Kakuri had used to conceal their identities, they felt clean once

again.

During his ablutions, Wot gazed at his Christmas slippers. They were

getting grubbier by the minute. Laughing at them, he said, “They

weren’t made for this, travelling half way up a mountain.” He

laughed at them again

While keeping a watchful eye open, Kakuri said, “They’re not very

practical, are they?”

- 72 -


“No, not at all,” Wot replied, embarrassed by his inappropriate

footwear.

“Can I have a look?” she asked. After giving them a quick rub on his

trouser legs, trying to make them more presentable, Wot took off his

slippers and handed them to Kakuri.

After scrutinising the grubby articles, Kakuri tried them on for size.

Her feet looked so small in the large, battered slippers. Acting the

cod, she said, “I am Wot, the Outlander, and I am after Miafra… He

had better watch out.” Wot laughed affectionately at her giddy antics.

This glimpse, this facet of Kakuri, which up until then had remained

hidden, appealed to Wot. He hiked it. This gentle merrymaking was

unfortunately short-lived, because far below in the valley dust was

rising…

“Look!” Kakuri screamed, shaken by the site of it, “Are those

Protectors?” No one answered… they had no need to…for what else

could they be other than the dreaded Protectors? At least twenty

men, and all of them on horseback, were racing flat-out in their

almighty attempt to catch-up with their quarry.

Although Wot, Nott and Kakuri had each known the Protectors were

coming, the sight of them below gave an added urgency to their

journey. The rest break was over. Putting on his slippers, Wot had

just enough time for a drink of icy cold water from the rushing

stream before they were off, along the winding track, leading them

- 73 -


further, higher, through barren passes where little or no means of

concealment awaited them.

“You know,” said Wot. “We have no hope of outrunning them.”

“I know, I know,” Nott answered him tersely. “Though, they will

have to dismount before they get this high. It’s far too treacherous up

here for horse riding. That will even up our chances, a bit.”

“Hmm,” said Wot.

Looking down at the rising dust, Nott said, “We don’t have much

time, no more than an hour at best, I reckon.”

“We need a diversion,” said Kakuri. “Something to cause a

distraction, a disruption to slow them down,”

“Unfortunately we don’t have anything,” said Nott.

“But we do!” she answered, swinging the Amulet of Oxmosis on its

chain.

“Do you have something in mind?” Wot enquired.

“I certainly do,” she told him. “However, it might be dangerous…”

“Danger is my middle name!” said Nott, sporting a wide smirk. Wot

- 74 -


almost chocked when he heard him say this.

“We will need a volunteer, though!” Kakuri warned.

“No problemo,” said Nott, eager to get on with it.

“Come closer, then – both of you,” she said, “and listen.”

After Kakuri had finished telling Wot and Nott what she had in mind,

the band of three continued along the track, checking the boulders

strewn along it. They were searching for something, something they

needed for Kakuri’s idea – the diversion – to work…

Having the longest legs Wot soon found himself well ahead of the

others. On turning a particularly rugged twist in the track, he stopped

and called back down to them. “Come; come see what I have

found!”

Kakuri was first to arrive. “That’s perfect, Wot,” she decreed the

instant she spotted it. “All we must to do is get in position and await

the Protectors…”

Arriving a few moments later, Nott found Kakuri and Wot sitting on

a couple of rocks to one side of the track, chatting. “Well?” he asked.

“What is it?”

“Oh, sorry, Nott,” Kakuri apologised, getting up from her rock. “You

- 75 -


were so slow arriving we forgot about you.”

Ignoring the remark, he said, “Well! What is it?”

Taking him by the hand, Kakuri led Nott across to the article in

question, the item so necessary for their plan to succeed – a huge

boulder strewn across a turn in the track, with another boulder above

it, supporting masses of loosely packed rocks. Seeing it, he smiled.

“It’s perfect, just perfect.”

“Come on you two,” said Wot. “The Protectors will soon be here.

We have to make ready.”

In less than thirty minutes, Wot, Nott and Kakuri heard the sound of

heavy breathing, panting of powerful animals, egged on by their

impatient riders, making their way up the difficult track.

Spotting them, Nott counted twenty men and the same number of

animals. It was only then did he realise the reason for their great

speed – these animals were so different from the horses they had

assumed them to be. From their appearance (long snouts, even longer

thin tails and legs quite obviously built for speed), they had more in

common with greyhounds than horses. There was one characteristic,

however, which they shared with horses, they were unsure of their

footing in the icy, snowy conditions of the high track. Dismounting,

their handlers led them along. This development was like manna

from heaven to the band of three, and they intended to exploit it with

- 76 -


deadly effect.

Having positioned himself on a ledge above Kakuri and Wot, Nott,

seeing the men dismount, whispered, “That evens things up. We now

have a fighting chance.” Farther along, around the corner, but

directly ahead of the oncoming threat, Kakuri laid waiting. They

were a team, a team waiting with the one intent – to destroy their

pursuers. Raising a hand, Nott made ready to signal his best friend.

As the men and their steeds negotiated the boulder strewn corner,

Nott lowered his arm. In turn, Wot signalled to Kakuri. On seeing his

signal, clutching hard onto the Amulet of Oxmosis, Kakuri began

reciting the Rhyme she had used earlier (she had altered it slightly,

though).

“I call upon the Amulet,

To help us in our need,

With our deeds of honour,

To stop all men of greed.

May the power of Oxmosis,

Keep us out of trouble,

- 77 -


May the power of Oxmosis,

Bring down the snow and rubble.”

Slowly, slowly, the Amulet of Oxmosis began to glow, but this time

the light emitting from it was as clear and bright as the sun. Holding

tightly onto the glowing talisman, Kakuri aimed it at the huge

boulder around, which the Protectors were emerging…

As the Protectors and their steeds appeared around the corner,

Kakuri waited until she saw the whites of their eyes. Seeing them,

she let rip with the Amulet and the deadly light beam therein. The

force released from the magical talisman was so fast, so furious

Kakuri lost her balance. Instead of striking the intended boulder

above the Protectors, the beam shot up, striking, disintegrating the

ledge upon which Nott was so precariously perched.

As she struggled, trying to regain her balance, Kakuri dropped the

amulet. Striking a rock, the Amulet went out. Rushing over she

picked it up, and then panicked. “Why has it stopped?” she said,

shaking the Amulet. Apart from some superficial damage (a few

scratches), no harm was done to it.

While she had been wondering as to why the Amulet had stopped

working, Kakuri had forgotten entirely about Nott, dangling from the

shattered remains of the ledge, above. Hoping to restart the magical

talisman, she aimed it again. Pointing it at the boulder, she wished

- 78 -


the beam alive… Humming to life, obeying her, the magical talisman

shot a beam of pure energy at the said rock. The boulder exploded

into smithereens, a million tiny pieces.

Seeing this happen, the Protectors realised the true danger they were

in. Snow, ice and rocks – masses of it – the destroyed boulder had

been supporting came tumbling down, onto them.

The disintegrating ledge that Nott was clinging so desperately to also

came crashing down. Seeing the danger, Kakuri released her control

over the amulet; the beam stopped. However, she was too late to help

him.

From his position, Wot could see the whole proceedings but he was

powerless to do anything, all he could do was watch.

The Protectors were not having a good day, either. In a futile attempt

to escape the deadly barrage, they scrambled in all directions. Some

tried to hold onto their animals. This was a fatal mistake and the

avalanche swept both men and steeds over the side, into certain

oblivion. Attempting to run the gauntlet of the deadly danger, some

men remounted. However, knocked from their charges by the deadly

cascade, they also fell to their deaths, dispatched over the side of the

mountain. A few of the Protectors, abandoning their steeds, tried to

make good their escape on foot, but their fate was the same – death

by falling rocks.

- 79 -


Losing his grip on the shattered remnants of the ledge, Nott found

himself in freefall. As he fell to what he believed was certain death,

Nott believed his luck had finally run out. However, in the final few

seconds before he met his maker fate took a turn for the better. He

landed slap-bang atop one of the abandoned steeds. His landing was

so hard it brought tears to his eyes. Thanking his god, holding on

tightly to the startled animal while kicking it the ribs, Nott shouted,

“Giddy up, come on, giddy up!” The animal, the greyhound of a

horse raced through the falling debris is if its legs were on fire.

Watching Nott holding on for dear life, Wot, scratching his head in

wonderment, said, “That man has more lives than a cat!”

Nott, however, was not yet out of danger. He first had a problem to

deal with. You see, having no control over his mount, he had no way

of knowing where it might go, including (in its panic) over the side.

“This thing must be half-goat!” he grumbled as the startled animal

negotiated its way (at breakneck speed) along the boulder-strewn

track. “Stop it, Wot,” he called out. “Stop it, Kakuri!” he shouted. “I

can’t steer it. I am going to die on this – whatever it is! Help!”

Nott and his steed raced passed Kakuri and Wot so fast they had no

chance of doing anything to help him. Galloping away, he rounded

the corner and disappeared from sight.

Kakuri and Wot were now in a predicament; to follow Nott and try to

save him, or wait in case any of the Protectors had survived and pick

- 80 -


them off before they can do any harm. In the end it was no contest,

they had to follow their friend, first.

Having rounded the corner, Kakuri and Wot were at a loss as to

where Nott had gone, for there was no sign of him, not anywhere.

Scratching their heads, they were baffled as to where he might be.

“Wot, look at that,” said Kakuri, walking ahead, pointing to the top

of a ridge.

“What is it?” he asked, following her.

“It’s him, Nott,” she exclaimed, pointing again.

His eyes following her fingers spotted Nott. Half-buried, head first in

the snow, his little legs frantically thrashing about, was Nott.

Laughing heartily, Kakuri and Wot (unlike Nott) saw the funny side

of it.

“When his steed reached the end of this ridge,” Kakuri explained,

trying to hold back the tears, “it must have jumped and landed in the

snow on the far side.”

Beneath a good three feet of snow, thinking her heard something,

Nott shouted, “Help! Help! Is somebody out there? Get me out, GET

ME OUT…. God, it’s cold in here!” On hearing these pitiful words,

Kakuri and Wot burst out laughing again.

- 81 -


When they had dug Nott out from his undignified predicament, and

he had regained some of his lost decorum, he thanked them

repeatedly. “You know,” he said, “I had an idea while under that

snow.”

“You did?” they asked, curious. “Why?”

“Well, apart from calling for help or trying to talk to that strange

animal thing there wasn’t much else to do down there,” Nott

answered.

“Come on then, old mate, out with it,” said Wot. “Let’s hear your

idea!”

“Yes, tell us,” said Kakuri.

Happy that he had their undivided attention, Nott continued, “First

dig out that horsy thing, will you? It might come in useful, if it

behaves better than it has so far, that is.” Freed from the snow, the

animal, a gentler more docile creation than before, willingly obeyed

their orders. Wot tied it to a jagged outcrop of rock.

Returning, Wot asked, “Your idea?”

“It’s very simple, really,” said Nott, full of enthusiasm. “Since most,

if not all, of the Protectors are now dead why don’t we use their

clothing to keep warm? We can also salvage anything else that might

- 82 -


come in handy.” Without bothering to wait for their opinion on its

merits, he continued, “They appeared to be wearing some sort of fur

attire if I remember correctly which is definitely more suited to this

cold climate than what we are wearing.”

Looking at him approvingly, Wot said he thought it was a wonderful

idea, if the wearers did not still have a use for them, that is. They set

off for the point of their successful ambush, to have a recky. Upon

reaching it, the scene that greeted them was of utter devastation; how

could anything be salvageable from such a mess? Moreover, the

chances of anyone surviving were even slimmer. The picked their

way through the remains, and sparse remains at that, for the

avalanche had swept almost everything over the side of the

mountain.

Over to one side, a grisly scene – two bodies dangling over the side

of the precipice, beckoned.

“Are they dead?” Nott whispered.

“Yes,” Kakuri answered, rolling over a body inspecting it. “There’s

not an awful lot here,” she continued, “but their clothes will keep us

warm.” Coldly undressing a corpse, she asked for Wot’s assistance.

He offered it reluctantly.

The dead men had indeed been wearing fur clothes, jackets and hats

to be precise. These were in addition to heavy, leather trousers and

- 83 -


thick leather boots. Wot offered one of the fur jackets to his little

friend who immediately donned it, for he was freezing. The large

jacket reached all the way to the ground on Nott. He felt warm again,

so incredibly warm. He smiled. The trousers were too large for

Nott’s small legs so he passed on them. They were, however, perfect

for Wot who immediately donned them as also a pair of leather

boots. Tucking his Christmas slippers safely away into his jacket

pockets, Wot bent down and picked up two fur hats, saying, “Here

you are, my small friend. I know it’s not your old trilby, but it will

keep you warm.” With that, he threw one of the fur hats over to Nott.

With hats thus donned, Wot asked Kakuri how she was faring.

“Give me a few minutes,” she replied, “I have a couple more things

to do.” Kakuri put on the other man’s clothes, securing the loose

fitting trousers with a length of string she had found. Fully dressed,

she was ready for the elements, then hesitating she said, “Hold on,

will you? I want to have one last look-see, to check out the last few

bits lying around… There might be something else of use.” As she

picked her way through the bits and pieces scattered about Kakuri

found a knife, which she pulled out of its scabbard to inspect. The

curved blade was long and it gleamed in the sun. After carefully

tucking it into the top of her trousers, she continued searching.

Meanwhile, Wot had been searching the far side of the rubble, where

he found a heavy, woollen blanket. Throwing it over his shoulder, he

said, “I have a good use for you.” He continued searching. Two

water bottles were his next find followed closely by a thick cotton

- 84 -


bag containing food of some sort. “That might come in handy,” he

mused. Despite searching, some more Wot found nothing else of

value or use, so scrambling back over the rocks he rejoined his

travelling friends to compare finds. It was only then did Kakuri and

Wot notice Nott snuggled up fast asleep against one of the rocks.

Leaving him to his slumbers Wot unrolled his blanket. “Can I borrow

that knife, Kakuri?” he asked.

“Sure, here you are,” she said, handing it to him.

With the help of the sharp blade Wot made a cut in the middle of the

blanket, then holding it up for close inspection, he grinned and stuck

his head through it.

“Here’s your knife, Kakuri.”

“Thanks,” she replied.

Rooting around in his pockets Wot searched for something.

“What are you doing?” Kakuri asked.

“I’m looking for a piece of twine.”

Cutting off the end of the string holding up her trousers, she asked,

“Will this do?”

- 85 -


“Yes! That’s perfect, Kakuri, thanks.” To stop his makeshift poncho

flapping about in the wind Wot secured it around his waist with the

string. “It’s not as good as the fur jackets,” he said, “but it will keep

me nice and warm on the-”

Hearing something, Kakuri hushed him. Then she heard it again. It –

a noise – was coming from behind a large boulder. Creeping quietly,

carefully, stealthily, she inched closer and closer…

Chapter Six

Omoora

The sound suddenly stopped! In extra stealth mode, Kakuri

advanced towards the boulder with extreme caution. Was it an

animal? It could hardly be one at so high an altitude, could it? Was it

a Protector, who having survived the destructive avalanche now lay

in wait for them, or was it simply more stones and rocks falling

down the mountainside? The suspense, not knowing which one it

was, was nerve-wracking.

Following Kakuri’s every move, Wot’s eyes scanned the entire area,

in case anyone else might be lying in wait, ready to surprise them.

On reaching the boulder, Wot looked gingerly behind it. What he saw

- 86 -


surprised him no end, for huddled against the cold, hard stone was a

Protector! Knocked, bruised, definitely worse for wear, the feared

Protector was barely more than a teenager. When he saw them

peeping around the boulder, the Protector made a frightened jump

backwards, in a vain attempt to escape them.

“Shall I kill him?” Kakuri asked coldly, pulling her knife from its

place of concealment.

“No! We can’t do that!” Wot protested. “We can’t just kill someone

in cold blood,”

Wot’s reply confused Kakuri. Speaking again, she said, “Surely

killing him is no different than killing the others? It was them or us.

Now it’s him or us!”

Shaking his head, Wot replied, “No! There must be another way,

other than killing him!”

Although she did not agree with him, Kakuri respected Wot’s point

of view and she backed down, though keeping a hand on her knife,

in case. Relieved, the frightened Protector watched with hopeful

eyes.

“I’ll wake up Nott,” said Wot. “To see if he has any ideas, he’s

always good in tricky situations like this.”

- 87 -


Remaining at the ready, Kakuri watched for any sudden moves the

dejected figure squatting behind the boulder might try. With no

intention of letting this man, this Protector try anything they might

live to regret, she watched him intently. Leaning closer, speaking

low, slow, she said, “If you try anything – and I mean anything – that

could remotely be considered a threat, I will have no hesitation at all

in killing you. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” the young man whispered, energetically nodding his

understanding.

Nudging Nott in the arm, Wot tried to awaken him. Opening one eye

Nott looked up at him. “You know,” he said, “that ledge… the one I

was standing on. I knew it was going to collapse. I knew it long

before I climbed up to it! Do you know that, Wot?”

“I do now.”

Nott continued, “Remember the time I fainted, when I had that

vision?”

“Yes.”

“I saw more than I told you...” Wot listened with interest. “As well as

seeing the way forward… I had a premonition that ledge would

collapse!”

- 88 -


“But you still went up there!” Wot gasped. “Why?”

“You ask me why? I’ll tell you why! It’s because a lookout was vital

to our plan. If I hadn’t gone up there, then you or Kakuri would have

had to go take my place. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing either

of you, so I went up there myself... I must be getting soft in the

head!”

“No you’re not,” Wot said thoughtfully. “You are a good person…a

very good person. Come, we have need of you… We have a

situation.”

“A situation? Now he tells me we have a situation, and needs my

help… I am going soft in the head, I know I am.” With Nott

mumbling and grumbling away to himself, the two friends made

their way up the track.

On seeing the dishevelled Protector huddled behind the huge rock,

Nott’s first reaction was of utter repulsion. All that he wanted to do

was get away from the despicable individual as fast as was humanly

possible. However, the longer he looked at the dishevelled individual

the more his humanity kicked in, and he saw a pitiful, injured figure

squatting helplessly upon the ground. How could they harm him?

No, this broken person needed their help! They must set him free

from Miafra’s grip! Stepping away, Nott said, “We can’t act in the

same way that Miafra and his minions do. We are more civilised than

that. We must show him that we are above their depravity. Saving

- 89 -


this man’s life will be a moral victory over Miafra,” he insisted.

Approaching the Protector, Nott said, “What is your name?”

“Omoora, my name is Omoora.”

Continuing his line of questioning, Nott said, “Okay, Omoora, what

is you rank?”

“I am Protector, level one, assigned on special duty to the cavalry, on

direct orders of Emperor, Miafra,” he replied.

“Are you injured?”

“No… except for a few bumps and bruises, and the wind being

knocked out from me, I think I am okay.”

“Can we get you anything?”

“Water! Please, a drink of water.”

“Kakuri, fetch me some water to quench this man’s thirst.”

Though watching the unfolding situation disapprovingly, Kakuri

complied with Nott’s request, passing him a bottle of water. The

young man gulped down the refreshing liquid. Kakuri watched on in

silence.

- 90 -


Having overcome the first hurdle Nott felt he was getting

somewhere. Continuing his line of questioning, he said, “Have you

no idea that when you are acting on the orders of Miafra, it is evil

you support?” Omoora scrutinised each of their faces in turn, then he

replied, “He is the Emperor – we must obey him. Failure means

certain death or, even worse, exile into the place between worlds

where light cannot enter.”

This struck a chord with Wot who interjected, saying, “That place is

no more. I have destroyed it, and all those who were trapped within

it have been set free.”

“It’s gone! How can that be?” Omoora asked. “No one can question

Miafra’s will let alone destroy that which he has made!” The young

soldier stared incredulously at Wot, then continued, “You two… the

big one and the small one, you are not from Onisha! Are you really

Outlanders?” Without giving them the chance to answer, he

continued, “We were told about you. You want to defeat Miafra. You

want to kill our Emperor, he who has given us so much. Miafra told

us your motivation is greed, that you will destroy our land, leaving it

empty… That is what Miafra says. Are you now telling me this is not

so?”

“That is most definitely not so,” Nott replied vehemently. “Yes, it is

true that we are here to defeat him, and if that means killing him, so

be it. However, we are certainly not here to destroy your land!

Umahia has called us, asked for our help to save Onisha, to help

- 91 -


return it to how it was before the ascent of Miafra.”

Again, Omoora looked puzzled, “Umahia? Is he not dead? Did he

not die six months ago, in his very own house, in his very own bed?

No! You are wrong! He died of old age. He was our eldest citizen!

He cannot still be alive!”

The mere mention of Umahia had certainly stirred up mixed feelings

within the young man. Feeling he was getting the upper hand of the

situation, Nott asked, “Are you hungry?”

“I sure am,” the Protector replied, his eyes lighting up with

anticipation. “I haven’t eaten since before we left Onisha city,” he

told them, “before we received our orders to stop you at any…”

Realising what he had just said, his voice faded.

“…At any cost!” Kakuri said for him.

“They were his orders; he had to obey them,” Nott insisted. “You

know what it’s like in the military.”

“I know the situation only too well,” Kakuri replied, folding her

arms defiantly.

Opening the bag of food that he had found amid the debris, Wot took

out a strip of dried meat. He gazed questioningly at it, then he smelt

it, hoping to work out what kind of animal it came from, but he was

- 92 -


still none the wiser. Offering it to Omoora, he said, “Here you are,

though I don’t have any idea what it actually is.” The young man

accepted the meat and consumed it, with gusto.

“Is it good?” Wot enquired.

“Yes.”

“What does it taste like?”

“Try a piece!”

Withdrawing another strip of meat from out of the bag, Wot

inspected it from top to bottom, and then bit into it. It took a great

deal of force to separate even a small piece. Chewing the mystery

meat, Wot began to taste its excellent flavour. Offering a piece to

Nott, he said, “Here, try it. It’s good!”

Wot also offered a piece to Kakuri, but she declined, saying, “Those

people will eat anything.” “I wonder what it is?” said Wot, taking

another bite of the meat.

Not accustomed to keeping sweet for so long, Nott called out loudly,

“For heavens sake, just ask the man what it is, will you?”

“Its hound-horse,” Omoora explained, smiling.

- 93 -


“Hound what?”

“Hound-horse – we ride them!” Omoora continued, “This is hound-

horse... like the one over there!” he pointed to the animal patiently

awaiting them. “You know, the old ones, before they die, we eat

them!”

As if struck by a bolt of lightning, Wot and Nott understood the

ramifications of Omoora’s words, and their mouths opened wide in

disgust, spewing out their contents. They had been eating horses, and

old ones at that! Spitting out the unacceptable food, amid much

coughing and complaining, the two friends eyed the young man

uncertainly.

Having no idea what the fuss was about Omoora took another bite of

the chewy meat, and he continued chewing…

After this episode, one thing was patently obvious; Protectors had

some very peculiar culinary tastes. Despite almost bringing up the

contents of his stomach, Nott was happy the episode had occurred,

because it had given them an insight, a glimpse of the dreaded

Protectors. And perhaps, just perhaps, they weren’t as bad as they

had initially feared. Though, it has to be said Kakuri was still

incredibly suspicious of the friendly Protector.

Leaving Omoora happily chewing away on his meat, the band of

three stepped aside, where they discussed what options they had. “I

- 94 -


think he is young enough to change,” said Nott. “He deserves a

chance.”

“A chance to slit our throats?” Kakuri asked, melodramatically.

“Wot, how do you feel about it?” asked Nott. “Should we give him a

chance?”

“I would be inclined to say yes,” he replied, “though, with some

reservations,” he added, “one of which is the possibility we might

later regret it.”

This was good enough for Nott. Putting it to a vote, he said, “All in

favour of giving Omoora a chance raise a hand.” Wot and Nott raised

theirs. “All against?” Kakuri lifted hers. “Right, it’s two against one,

the motion is passed. Omoora is with us. I will go tell him the good

news…”

Although Wot had agreed with the motion, he did so with some

reservations, doubts that niggled away in a corner of his mind.

Kakuri skulked to one side.

Omoora’s immediate reaction to them accepting him into their merry

band was of joyful appreciation, and he faithfully promised that he

would not let them down.

After filling their water bottles, the band of four, with their newly

- 95 -


acquired hound-horse, set off along the track. It soon levelled out,

making for easier travelling than before. Because there was only one

animal, they decided each of them would use it in turn. “You go first,

Nott,” said Wot, pointing to the hound-horse. However, after his

earlier experience with the creature, Nott declined the invitation.

Kakuri mounted, instead. Settling into the saddle, she found it quite

easy to control the animal. Keeping it a safe distance behind the

others, to keep a watchful eye on the friendly Protector, she rested

her tired feet.

Making their way along the narrow track, the band of four was a

sight to see. Firstly, there was Wot striding proudly in his makeshift

poncho, followed closely by Nott in his large coat that trailed along

the ground. Next in line was the dishevelled Protector watched

closely by Kakuri atop the hound-horse. It was, as I said, a very

strange site indeed!

The remainder of the journey over the pass was uneventful, and

soon they were descending the gentler, warmer slopes on the far side

of the mountain, where the sparse, low-growing vegetation gave way

to a rich abundance of flora including the familiar upturned Yola, or

hand trees. Fur jackets and hats being surplus to requirements were

stowed on the hound-horse. Even though Nott missed his old trilby,

he had grown quite attached to his fur hat, so he declined the offer to

stow it.

This side of the mountain was definitely the sunny side. As the

- 96 -


temperature steadily increased, cactus-type plants gradually replaced

the Yola trees. Ranging in size from small ones, no more than a few

inches in height, to old giants towering above the increasingly dry

terrain, they reminded the two Outlanders of cacti on Earth. No

matter what size these plants happened to be, they all had one thing

in common – the absence of prickles or thorny bits, on them. They

also had flat sides – four to be precise, and all at right angles to each

other, with flat tops tapering off at an angle. Essentially these plants

had the appearance of milled wood stuck vertically into the ground.

“What are these plants called, Kakuri?” Wot asked, pointing to a

particularly large specimen.

“I don’t know, Wot,” she replied. “I have never before seen them.”

It was at this point the young Omoora, who had remained

particularly quiet up until then, spoke. He said, “I know what they

are called!”

“And what might that be?” Kakuri asked him suspiciously.

“They are called Wait-a-Whiles,” he replied, smiling. On hearing

this, Kakuri looked at him even more suspiciously.

Nott’s curiosity having been stimulated, he had to know more.

“That’s an odd name for a plant, Omoora,” he said. “How did they

get such a name?”

- 97 -


Speaking confidently, Omoora continued, “It’s because they are

welcomed by travellers…amidst all of this heat. A liquid can be

drained from them, a liquid that is pleasant to taste and very

refreshing.” Having stimulated their interest further, he continued

even more confidently, “This was taught to us, during our survival

training lessons.”

Taking a gander at their water bottles, Wot noticed that one of them

was empty while the other was only a quarter full. Looking over to

Nott, he suggested they try it out, and fill them up. Nott readily

agreed, but Kakuri who was still suspicious of Omoora remained

silent, voting neither for nor against his suggestion.

Following on from his description of the plants, and their benefits to

weary travellers, Omoora continued his praise of the Wait-a-Whiles,

seemingly in his element, enjoying it enormously. Scouting the area,

Omoora found two lengths of stick, each one a foot or so in length.

“I will show you how we do it,” he said gleefully.

In their present location, there were no trees, not anywhere. Kakuri,

curious as to where he had found the sticks, asked, “How did you

find those pieces of wood so easily?”

Shrugging it off, Omoora suggested that some earlier travellers must

have brought them. Looking into the hollow interiors of the pieces

of wood, he said, “They need cleaning out and enlarging.” After

securing a loan of the string from Wot’s poncho, Omoora selected a

- 98 -


pebble. Securing it to the string, he pulled it through each stick in

turn. It was a slow procedure, but it worked, and after several pull-

throughs both pieces of wood were ready for use. Finding a rock

large enough to hold comfortably in the palm of his hand Omoora,

with his curious entourage following closely behind, wandered

around the Wait- a-Whiles until he found a fine specimen. Using the

rock as a makeshift hammer Omoora drove the first tube deep into

the heart of the plant. Shouting excitedly, he said, “Quickly!

Quickly! Bring me a water bottle, quick, quick!”

Dashing across to the patiently waiting hound-horse, Wot removed

the two bottles and returned, panting. “Here you are, Omoora,” he

said, handing one of them to the friendly Protector.

Biting the cap clean off the first bottle, Omoora drank the remaining

water. Snapping the string in two, he used one of the pieces to secure

the first bottle to the tube. Having done that, he slumped to his knees,

resting.

Soon a milky liquid was flowing from out of the end of the tube into

the awaiting bottle. When it was full to the brim, the milky liquid

stopped flowing. “You must have done this before,” said Nott. “You

judged the amount of liquid available to a tee.”

To this remark, Omoora made no reply. He simply untied the bottle,

raised it to his lips and took a quick swig of the cool, milky liquid,

“See!” he said. “It’s good!” Passing it to Nott, he said, “Go on – try

- 99 -


it!”

Gulping down a large swig of the cool liquid, Nott exclaimed, “This

is good! In fact it’s very good!”

While Nott was taking another swig of the refreshing liquid,

savouring its wonderfully unique taste, Wot interrupted him, saying,

“Come on, Nott. Let me have a taste!” Reluctantly passing him the

bottle, Nott watched enviously as his best friend drank heartily from

it. Gulping down the milky cool liquid, astounded by how good it

actually tasted, Wot said, “My God! This really is good. It’s almost

as good as Fizzing Fruits.” He gulped down some more.

In little more that a couple of minutes less than a quarter of the

bottle’s contents remained. Only then did Wot notice Kakuri

watching him intensely. Offering her the bottle, he said, “Sorry,

Kakuri, for not being more gentlemanly, but it does taste so awfully

nice. Got a bit carried away, you know. Would you like to try some?”

Looking long and hard at both him and the bottle, Kakuri finally

accepted it, to sample the liquid for herself.

Omoora was so incredibly captivating, so convincing in his

argument, the band of three had not considered calling The Orlu for

water. No. It had never even entered their minds. They simply went

along with the friendly Protector and his tale of the stupendous Wait-

a-While plants.

- 100 -


Moving on to another Wait- a-While, Omoora began knocking the

second tube into it. No sooner had its milky liquid began flowing, he

became quite animated again, shouting, “The second bottle, bring me

the second bottle! Quick, the liquid is flowing!”

Running over with it, Wot said, “Here you are, Omoora.”

Omoora grabbed hold of the bottle and quickly secured it to the tube.

“Hurray for the Wait-a-Whiles,” he cried out. “They are great!” With

that, he lay down on the ground, laughing at the good of it.

Joining in with the frivolity, Wot sang, “If you want a drink, the

Wait-a-Whiles will keep you in the pink!”

The second bottle was no sooner full to the brim when Nott helped

himself to it, pouring the cool milky liquid down his receptive throat.

It went down a treat – he loved it. He drank his fill and then some.

With arms outstretched he spun around, singing, “I am so happy, I

feel so fine and this, this bottle is all mine, mine, mine.” Then he

kissed it.

Feeling the need for another drink, Wot asked Kakuri for the first

bottle. Although looking at him disapprovingly, she handed it to him.

After drinking the remaining liquid, and then draining the last few

drops from out the bottle, Wot set his sights on Nott and his bottle. “I

think it’s my turn, old friend,” he said, swiping it out of his hands. “I

need some more, and by the look of you, it appears you have had

- 101 -


more than enough already.”

Kakuri could see that the lads’ behaviour had changed dramatically.

Alarm bells began ringing. Although she had consumed only a small

amount of the liquid, Kakuri felt its effect, albeit only mild. Her two

friends, however, who had drunk an awful lot more than she had,

were acting completely out of character. Something was most

definitely wrong!

Looking over to the friendly Protector, Kakuri saw him still lying on

the ground, apparently worn out from all the excitement. Was he

really tired, she wondered, or was it a front, a deception he was

perpetrating. Moreover, if the liquid was so incredibly good tasting,

why had he drunk just the one small mouthful?

The sun, now high in the sky, was hot. Perhaps Kakuri was

becoming too suspicious, and all that her friends were doing was

simply letting off steam? She watched them. Having finished the

contents of the two bottles, they had quietened down considerably.

Resting in the shade, each propped up against one of the Wait-a-

Whiles, Wot and Nott grew sleepy…“What a good idea,” she said.

“Perhaps a good rest is just what we need.” Rambling across to one

of the large plants, sitting down under its welcome shade, Kakuri

also rested. Despite feeling terribly sleepy, though, she managed to

keep one eye open, in case Omoora decided to do anything that

might threaten the group.

- 102 -


The young man, meanwhile, was still laying flat out in the full sun,

He must be mad, Kakuri, thought. Glancing across to the two

Outlanders, she noticed that they had already nodded off. Relaxing,

closing her eyes, Kakuri also slipped away into blissful slumber.

Waking up to an almighty pain in her arms, Kakuri tried desperately

to move, but she was unable to so. There was someone behind her,

someone pulling frantically at her arms, trying to tie her to the Wait a

While plant. She struggled, trying to break free, but the more she

tried the harder her assailant pulled and tugged at her arms, sending

yet more crippling pain shooting up them. Who was it? As far as

Kakuri was concerned there was only one person capable of carrying

out such a despicable deed – Omoora! She struggled; she tried harder

to free herself from her assailant. Suddenly, one of her arms broke

free. Then, with one almighty effort, Kakuri swung her entire body

around the plant to face her attacker – Omoora!

His eyes burning wildly, Omoora was a man possessed, trying so

desperately to regain control of the situation. “You should have

stayed asleep, Kakuri,” he yelled. “You are a traitor, a traitor to the

cause, to the people, and Miafra.”

As her mind raced, Kakuri wondered as to where Wot and Nott

might be – and why they did not come to her assistance. She had no

inkling, no idea whatsoever that they were in no condition to be of

any assistance to her. With one of her arms still tied to the plant, her

fighting options were somewhat limited, so when Omoora drew out a

- 103 -


knife – her knife –she had immense difficulty avoiding it. Grabbing a

handful of dusty, red soil, she chucked it at Omoora’s face,

temporarily blinding him. As she grappled with the Protector, trying

to take advantage of the breathing space she had thus created, the

wild-eyed man who did not intend to accept defeat that easily

stabbed her in the arm. The blood flowing fast and freely ran down

her arm, dripping onto the sandy soil. Kakuri’s red, life-liquid was

everywhere. Covered in her blood, Omoora attacked Kakuri again.

With one hand tied to the plant, Kakuri was at a tremendous

disadvantage. She had to get her hand free – and fast. Suddenly, after

pulling, tugging and yanking so hard upon her bonds she feared her

hand might fall off, they gave way, broke. She was free, free to fight

her assailant on an equal footing.

Kakuri kicked him. She kicked Omoora hard in the chest. Omoora

fell to the ground, quite still. Approaching him, she tried to ascertain

his condition. This was a mistake, a big mistake. Grabbing Kakuri by

the legs, Omoora yanked her hard to the ground, alongside him. At

the same time as this, he lunged at her again with his knife. Rolling

over, away from the immediate danger, Kakuri had no time to relax,

no time to drop her guard, for the crazy-mad man followed her every

move. She knew it; she knew that she had no other option other than

securing the deadly instrument away from him – but how? He was

quick, very quick.

As if to prove this unique fact, Omoora lunged as her yet again. For a

second time the deadly blade, finding Kakuri’s soft flesh, tore into

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her skin. One of her legs felt the full force of the deadly instrument.

Searing pain rushed, screaming to her brain. As she struggled

defiantly, hoping against hope to overcome her opponent, Kakuri

tried to ignore the pain of her injuries. Then, with one last

tremendous kick, she knocked the knife out of Omoora’s hand.

Desperately scrambling toward it, Kakuri tried to secure the deadly

instrument, but Omoora pulling, yanking her back, clawing and

shouting like the crazed lunatic that he was, fought on regardless.

Kakuri tried for a second to secure the knife, but Omoora pulled her

back once again. Each time she tried to secure it, Kakuri advanced,

inched her way closer towards the shiny metal object until she was

finally within her reach of it. It was now or never; making one last,

final lunge Kakuri felt the touch of cold steel on her fingers. Rolling

onto her back, she looked up, horrified to see Omoora kneeling over

her. Holding a large rock in his hands, he was ready to send it

crashing down onto her skull. In one last, tremendously painful

effort, catching Omoora completely off guard, Kakuri pushed her

arms upwards, sending the blade deep into his chest. The young

man’s body shuddered, his grip on the rock loosened, and with

totally unbelieving eyes he watched the blood flow from his wound.

Rolling over, barely avoiding the heavy rock that came crashing

down, Kakuri lay panting. Her chest felt as if it was on fire.

Coughing, trying to catch her breath, she was alive! The turncoat

Omoora was dead, but she still looked for a pulse, anyhow, just to be

sure. There was none. A terrible sinking feeling suddenly enveloped

Kakuri. Wot and Not! Where were they? Moreover, how are they?

- 105 -


Scanning the area, trying desperately to see them, Kakuri suddenly

spotted Wot and Nott. They were still in the same place as before,

sitting in the shade of the Wait-a-Whiles, fast asleep. They had

missed the entire fight. When a bloody and tired Kakuri gave them a

shove, to awaken them, they were to say the least a might confused.

“Oh my head!” groaned Wot. “That drink was as strong as rocket

fuel.” His observations were so true, because later on they found

out that all military personnel, while on survival training, learned

about Wait-a-While plants and their sap’s alcoholic properties,

including how to use it to gain advantage if captured. The three

friends had presented to Omoora an opportunity too good to pass,

and he had made full use of it. The training, the brainwashing

perpetrated upon him was in the end too powerful for their

reasoning. Umahia’s words of warning until you have successfully

achieved your next task trust no one, and I mean no one, rang in their

ears.

Kakuri informed Wot and Nott that Omoora was dead. Having done

that she told them how – and why – she had done it.

Nursing their hangovers the two lads were horrified to hear of the

danger they had been in. They were particularly ashamed of the fact

that their unruly behaviour had left Kakuri in such peril. Having

learnt a valuable lesson they agreed to listen to and take more heed

of what she was saying. Rewarded by treachery, after offering

Omoora the hand friendship, Nott felt so betrayed. “I allowed our

lives to be put at risk because of the stupid notion I harboured that I

- 106 -


could reason with a Protector,” he said. “Please forgive me!”

Kakuri winced as a stab of pain shot up her arm. The two lads who

had up until then been feeling so ashamed and sorry for themselves,

realising the full extent of her injuries, shot into action. Guiding her

across to the shade of a Wait a While, Wot helped her to sit down.

Nott inspected the wound in her arm. It was a nasty cut, which

although it stopped bleeding was dirty. It required cleaning, but there

was no water. The only liquid readily available was the sap from the

Wait-a-Whiles.

“Perhaps the alcohol within it will sterilise her wounds,” said Nott,

“and its other properties will hopefully ease her pain.”

“Shall I try it, Nott?”

“Yes, go on, it can’t be that hard to procure,” Nott answered.

After securing his makeshift poncho, which was flapping and

generally getting in his way, with some of the reclaimed string, Wot

made ready to procure a fresh supply of the milky liquid. Without

any other sticks being readily available, it was necessary that he

remove one of two that Omoora had hammered into the Wait-a-

Whiles. This, however, was harder than he imagined, because

Omoora had hammered them both deep into the plants. They were

stuck tight. The only instrument available to help him to free one of

them was Kakuri’s trusty knife. Cutting deep into the thick flesh of

- 107 -


the plant, Wot tried to free it, He prayed to his god for success. It was

hard going; globules of milky liquid oozing from the wound made

the knife slippery to hold. After gouging his way to a depth of almost

six inches, Wot pulled on the stick, trying to free it. It was still stuck

tight. Picking up rock, he struck the stick with it. It snapped, the tube

he so desperately needed snapped, breaking off close to the base,

rendering it useless.

Luckily, there was another tube, another stick, another chance; he

must not break this one. He said nothing; he simply walked over and

got to work on it. This time Wot had no such problems, and after a

short while, the intact tube was resting in his hand. Moving across to

another large Wait-a-While, Wot hammered the tube home. He had

learnt well and in no time at all, the bottle was full to the brim with

milky liquid.

While Wot had been acquiring the liquid, Nott had been preparing

makeshift bandages made out of the salvaged shirt of their attacker.

He had found it a grisly enough task, but for the sake of Kakuri’s

wellbeing had completed it diligently.

“Here you are, old friend,” said Wot as he handed Nott the full

bottle.

“Thanks,” Nott replied as he poured the milky liquid into the cut on

Kakuri’s arm. She flinched as it entered the wound. After repeating

the process several more times, the wound was perfectly clean.

- 108 -


Turning his attention to her leg, Nott repeated the process on the

second wound, which although quite bloody, was in no way as bad as

the first. Taking a strip of the cloth Nott carefully tied it around

Kakuri’s arm. Using another, longer piece of cloth he secured it

around her leg. “That will do the job nicely,” he said. “Unless you

start into your combat role again, Kakuri,” he laughed.

“Thanks,” said Kakuri, “But, remember, time is passing – we must be

on our way.”

“You cannot travel, not yet,” Nott insisted. “You need rest.”

Kakuri, however, would hear none of it. Ordering them to help her

onto the hound-horse, she said. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine

up here”

“About Omoora,” said Wot, gazing down at his lifeless body. “Do

we leave him like that, just lying there?”

“Of course not,” replied Nott. “No matter what he did, he still

deserves a decent burial. It’s not his fault Miafra’s grip upon him was

so strong he was powerless to resist. We will give him a decent

burial, that’s the least we can do.”

Unable to dig a hole in the hot, stony ground the two lads gathered

all the rocks they could find, placing them in a heap over the lifeless

body. That being done they said a short prayer and placed the young

- 109 -


man’s fur hat at one end of the rocky mound.

In silence, the band of three continued the journey in a southeasterly

direction…

Chapter Seven

Ondo-O-Osiqualo

Eventually the arid landscape gave way to the welcome, gently

rolling countryside Onisha generally enjoyed. Seeing this, Nott knew

instinctively that the Temple of Wan was close by.

“I have been thinking, Nott” said Wot, “about Umahia, when he told

us that the only way we can carry out and truly understand the next

part of our mission is by entering the land – that we must join it, that

the way forward is under, do you have any idea what he actually

meant by that?”

“I have been thinking about the very same thing,” Nott replied, “and

I have come to the conclusion that the Temple of Wan must be

another ancient, mystic site. Moreover, just as Miafra interfered with

- 110 -


the Axis, the Temple of Wan has undoubtedly suffered a similar fate.

So, by my reckoning, we must fix it, that’s all.”

“That sounds too easy,” said Wot. “Umahia said we must enter the

land, and join it. How does that fit in with your hypothesis?”

“I don’t have all the answers, you know,” Nott quipped. “Perhaps,

when Kakuri wakes she will be able to enlighten us about it.” Kakuri

was still fast asleep atop the hound-horse.

“That sap must be strong stuff,” said Nott, “to keep her asleep on top

of that animal. I can’t understand why she doesn’t fall off.”

“Sleep is the best medicine,” Wot replied. “She lost a great deal of

blood, and needs to regain her strength. Remember, we don’t know

what is waiting for us, ahead.”

On entering a large clearing, an area of lush grass surrounded by tall

trees, Nott became quite excited. “It’s here!” he shouted. “The

Temple of Wan is HERE – I know it.”

“I can’t see anything,” Wot replied. “Come on; we must get Kakuri

off this animal. Get those fur jackets and spread them on the ground,

to help make her as comfortable as possible.” Though grumbling and

mumbling to himself Nott did as instructed, after which they helped

Kakuri down from the hound-horse and carefully placed her onto the

makeshift bed. Securing the hound-horse to a nearby bush, Wot left it

- 111 -


contentedly chewing the grey leaves.

Awakening, trying to shake off the effects of the intoxicating liquid,

Kakuri enquired as to where they were. “We are at the Temple of

Wan, of course,” Nott proudly replied. After gazing vacantly at him

for a few seconds, Kakuri fell back asleep.

The next time she awoke, the two Outlanders offered Kakuri a hot

meal, courtesy of The Orlu. After she had finished eating, Kakuri felt

a good deal stronger. “Where are we?” she asked them again.

“At the Temple of Wan, of course,” Nott replied as proudly as

before.

Looking around, she said, “I don’t see anything!”

“I know, I know!” Nott snapped in reply. “We were hoping that you

might be able to explain, you know, exactly where it is, you being a

native and all.”

Picking up the last piece of chicken from her plate, Kakuri placed it

into her mouth and began chewing. When she had finished eating it,

she said, “Wan means pale light, but can also mean below. Perhaps,

the temple is below ground, and its entrance thus hidden from view.”

“Yes, yes!” Nott cried out triumphantly. “That explains everything! I

was right after all, I knew it, just knew it!” Milling around the

- 112 -


clearing like a headless chicken, despite knowing where he might

look for the temple, Nott was achieving nothing.

Speaking again, Kakuri said, “Look for something, something that

isn’t quite right. You will know what it is when you see it….” This

confused Nott no end and he stopped dead in his tracks, wondering

what she meant. Continuing, Kakuri said, “For example, be on the

lookout for signs of earthworks, an indentation in the ground –

anything that does not fit in with the lay of the land.” Scratching his

head, thinking about it some more, Nott made his way to the centre

of the clearing. Wot followed him closely behind.

However, despite scouring the entire area, except for a rusty old

barrel half hidden in the long grass, nothing jumped out to grab their

attention. After searching for well over an hour, they were beginning

to loose interest, thinking it was perhaps the wrong spot, the wrong

place after all.

Suddenly screaming excitedly, pointing over to one side of the

clearing, Kakuri said, “Look! Look over there!” Wot and Nott began

searching in the spot where she was pointing, but they were still

unable to see anything out of the ordinary.

Screaming again, Kakuri said, “You are almost on top of it! Move a

little to the right, a little bit more. Yes! That’s it! You are there! The

Temple of Wan is directly below you, I am sure of it!” Kakuri was so

excited she was barely able to contain herself. In fact, she tried to get

- 113 -


up, to show them herself what she could see, but the pain of her

injuries stopped her from doing this.

How Kakuri had come to this conclusion baffled poor Nott. He felt

like a veritable Doubting Thomas, as he said, “Hold on, Kakuri. I’m

coming over to you. Before we start any digging I want to see it from

your perspective.” When he reached Kakuri, Nott turned around to

see it from her point of view. Slapping himself on the forehead, he

said, “How could I have been so blind? It’s there, as large as life!

Wot!” he called out. “The grass where you are standing is different!”

“Scratching his head, Wot replied, “It’s grey!”

“Yes, yes,” Nott agreed. “But it’s a lighter shade of grey!”

“The soil there is shallow!” said Kakuri. “That’s why it’s lighter.

There is something below it, perhaps a stone structure, or maybe

even a Temple?”

“It’s certainly worth a look-see,” said Nott. “But don’t raise your

hopes too much…just in case.”

Watching him hurry back to his friend, Kakuri thought, “Even if he

doesn’t admit it, Nott sure is excited.”

There was a problem, however, Wot and Nott did not have anything

with which they might dig. All they could find were a couple of thick

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branches, which they used to prod the grass for signs of an opening

or whatever. Pacing the area, prodding here and poking there, Wot

and Nott came across nothing faintly resembling an opening. Just

when there were about to give up – despite what Kakuri had said,

insisted was there – Wot said, “Listen, can you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Nott asked, cocking his head over to one side.

“Water, I can hear water,” Wot answered. “I can hear the sound of

dripping water.”

Listening again, Nott also heard the unmistakable sound of water

dripping somewhere below them. “There’s something down there,

alright,” he said. “It’s below us, just here!” Clawing into the earth

with his bare hands, he asked, “What are you waiting for? Lend me a

hand!”

As the two friends scraped their way through the damp turf that came

away easily in large chunks, they revealed a light brown sandy soil

beneath. Using their hands as human shovels, they removed copious

amount of the brown stuff until their fingers ached from the effort.

Urging them on, Kakuri said, “Come on, it’s there, you are on top of

it, dig, dig!”

All of a sudden, Nott broke a fingernail on something hard in the

soil, something cold, something made of METAL. “Wot, there’s

- 115 -


something here, I think I’ve found it. Come on,” he said, “DIG!”

With renewed vigour, the two Outlanders removed some more soil,

revealing the top of a door, a sloping, metal door framed in damp

stone. Looking back to Kakuri, Nott shouted, “We have found it!

You were right, Kakuri – and thanks.”

Scraping away the last vestiges of soil and stony debris, Wot and

Nott uncovered three stone steps leading down to a paved area

directly in front of the angled door. Even though the door was old

and incredibly rusty, it appeared quite solid, so the big question on

their minds was if it was locked. Stepping onto the paved area, Wot

pushed at the door, but it remained stubbornly shut. Trying again, he

pushed harder. The door moved a fraction. In his third and final

attempt to force open the door, Wot put his whole body into it. Then,

with one almighty shove, the door capitulated, revealing a series of

stone steps leading down to a gloomy interior. The drip, dripping

sound of the water beckoned them on.

The two friends faced a dilemma – should they enter the dark

interior, leaving the injured Kakuri behind, or bring her along with

them even though she would slow them down considerably. They

wanted to go down the steps right there and then, but Kakuri

deserved better than that. She had to be given the option of saying

yes or no.

“Go on, without me,” said Kakuri, the moment they asked her. “I

- 116 -


need to rest, to allow my wounds to heal. Go and explore the

Temple, but do be careful, mind.” She continued, “I’ll be fine, I have

my knife and a full bottle of water, courtesy of the Orlu. Go! See

what’s below, and if it really is the Temple of Wan, be on your guard,

for something dangerous might be lurking within.”

Making her as comfortable and safe as was possible, Wot and Nott

promised to be extra careful while underground. They wanted to go,

to set off right away, but they were concerned as to the danger this

left her exposed to, they set about devising an alarm she could sound

if anything untoward did happen. The alarm was in fact the old

barrel they had had found earlier. Kakuri was to use it as a drum, to

sound if she found herself in immediate danger. They promised her

that when they were underground they would still hear it. Handing

Kakuri a stout branch, Wot said, “Bang it like mad, and we will

return in a jiff. Then he added, “Are you sure you really want to stay

here on your own?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied. Now off with you. And good luck.”

After checking for one last time that Kakuri was as comfortable as

possible, Wot and Nott set off towards the rusty metal door...

Before entering the Temple – if that is what it really was – the two

friends had need of a means of illumination, to guide them once

inside the dark interior. Securing a couple of fallen branches, Wot set

about making torches by wrapping pieces of abandoned fur jackets

- 117 -


around their ends, then dipping them into the greasy remains of their

meals. With torches thus prepared, Wot and Nott began their

descent...

“This reminds me of the Catacombs of Oguta,” Nott whispered, “and

the terrible fright we had down there!”

“A lot has happened since then, both good and bad,” said Wot. “We

are more prepared now than we were back then!”

“I’m happy for you being so confident, old buddy,” Nott answered,

in a truly sardonic manner.

On passing through the doorway, and stepping onto the slime-coated

steps, the dripping sound of the water felt so much louder. Within the

confines of the subterranean stairwell, each drip, drip resonated in

Wot and Nott’s ears as if they were alive, and a threat to them. The

air smelt of dampness. Having reached the last step, a long

passageway beckoned them to go further. In total silence, the two

friends walked its entire length until they reached yet another door at

its end. This door, like the former, was also made of metal, with a

thin coating of rust upon it. Unlike its predecessor, however, it

opened readily, to only the slightest degree of pressure from Wot’s

stout shoulder. Passing through, into the room beyond, they jumped

as the door banged shut behind them. Eyeballing the closed door,

Wot had an uneasy feeling that the fair Kakuri was at that very

moment banging the drum with all of her might, but it was only a

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feeling, mind you. He knew that they had to push on, so he focused

on the task in hand.

The feeling of dampness had now gone, replaced by a dryness and

warmth that was quite unexpected. The room they were in, apart

from a door on the far side, was devoid of all features. Unlike the

other doors, this one was made of stone. Offering to do the honours

and try opening it, Wot put all his weight behind his attempt, but it

refused to budge. Despite trying repeatedly, the door remained

stubbornly closed. Recalling the door in the Catacombs of Oguta,

Wot said, “Perhaps this also will respond more readily to words.”

Taking out his little book, he wrote down the following…

“We are the seekers of truth, it is so,

In our quest we are honour bound,

To free the Onishians, every last soul,

We must enter and go underground.

To be a part of the land, part of the Rhyme,

This we must do, this we must try,

To free the enslavement of minds,

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Or fair Onisha will surely die.”

Nothing happened, nothing appeared to be happening, as they stood

there facing the door it remained firmly closed.

“Is it my imagination?” said Nott, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

“Or is it getting hotter?”

“It is,” Wot nodded, agreeing with him.

Nott continued, “If it is getting hotter, then it begs the question why?

And also how?” Scooting around the room, Nott searched for the

heat’s source. He ran his fingers along the cracks between the stone

blocks, around the frame of the door, in fact, he scrutinised the entire

floor area, but the source of the heat eluded him. It was a mystery,

and he hated mysteries.

On returning to the door, for some reason Nott half expected the

answer would magically appear there, but it did not, and all the while

the temperature continued to rise. Soon the entire room felt more like

a sauna than a subterranean chamber. Retreat to the cool fresh air

above felt increasing like their only option.

“I think we had better get out of here, and pronto!” said Nott. “This

heat is getting serious!”

“You’re right, Nott,” Wot replied, wiping the sweat from his brow.

- 120 -


“Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Turning their backs on the door, the two friends began to retrace

their steps, then a voice from behind asked, “Why do you leave?”

To say they were shocked when they heard this would be the mother

of all understatements. Wot and Nott almost jumped out of their

skins, so frightened they were. Turning around, to see who it could

possibly be, they were surprised that it was an incredibly old man

standing in the now open doorway. Leaning on a tall stick, for

support, he was so thin, so gaunt and so terribly frail looking they

wondered how he had managed to open the heavy stone door.

Wearing open-toed sandals, a white robe, an ornately decorated

metal chest plate, and an equally ornate metal helmet, the old man

bore a striking resemblance to a Roman soldier, if he had not been so

incredibly old, that is. Clutching a short, thick sword encased in an

elaborately decorated scabbard, he gave the semblance that he was

on guard, even though he was quite obviously barely able to support

his own weight. If it were not for the stick he was leaning on, Nott

thought, he would almost certainly be a heap on the floor.

From the hidden depths of the place behind the old man, a warm

orange glow emanated. The man’s beady black eyes looked intently

at the two figures, and he asked them again. “Why do you leave?”

“We were leaving because of the heat,” Wot admitted, in all honesty.

“We were afraid.”

- 121 -


“Afraid you might melt?” the old man asked, making a perception of

smiling.

“No…we weren’t sure…” said Wot, his voice trailing off.

The old man continued his line of questioning. “Why are you here?”

“We are looking for the Temple of Wan. We must find it!” said Wot,

nervously. Although the old man was unnerving Wot, he tried to

reassert himself, saying, “We are on a mission to free the people

from…”

Cutting Wot off mid sentence, the man said, “Who are you, to think

you can free the people?”

Believing the conversation to be going nowhere, that the frail old

figure standing in front of him was hell bent on confrontation, Wot

could think of nothing more he might say.

Hot under the collar, at the seemingly pointless conversation he was

listening to, Nott said, “Our names are Wot and Nott. Miafra, the

dictator, has taken over Onisha. We are in a race against time to undo

the wrongs he has committed. If we stand here all day simply talking

about nothing it will too late to carry out our mission, and all will be

lost.”

Leaning hard on his stick, the old man shifted his weight from one

- 122 -


leg to the other, all the while staring intently at Nott. Despite fearing

that he was about to be struck by the stick (or even the sword), Nott

continued, he said, “We must find the answer to how we can restore

the freewill, the chi of the people.”

After staring at Nott with his beady black eyes for so long that Nott

became decidedly jumpy, the old man spoke again. “I am The

Keeper,” he said. “I am Ondo-O-Osiqualo.” Nott felt as if the old

man’s piercing black eyes were seeing his innermost thoughts, but

despite his uneasiness, he held his ground. Slowly, gradually, a smile

crept across Ondo’s face, and he said, “You have had some

misfortunes along the way, my friend, have you not?”

“You can say that again.” Nott chirped.

Smiling even more, Ondo said, “Yes, it is so.” There was another

pause before Ondo continued. “I have looked into yourself, who you

really are,” he said. “I can see that are a good man, hasty at times,

but good nevertheless.”

“Can you help us?” Nott asked him hopefully.

“No! I am only The Keeper. I stand guard. I guard the temple, the

Temple of Wan…”

“So we are in the right place!” Nott replied excitedly.

- 123 -


Without answering Ondo continued, he said, “I have stood here, on

guard, since the beginning of time, and will do so until time is no

more. That is my mission. I cannot deviate from it.”

The two travellers were disconsolate when they heard this, but they

pressed him regardless, quoting the words of Umahia, “We must

enter the land, it is only by joining it will we ever find the answer;

the way forward is under.”

Ondo replied, “I already know this, for I have seen your innermost

thoughts. I have seen everything there is to see. Although I cannot

help in your quest, I can show you the way.” This news brought a

smile to their faces and cheered them up no end. They were indeed in

the right place and would soon be on their way, wherever it was.

Stepping through the doorway, Ondo bid them to follow, saying,

“Abandon your torches, you will have no need of them from here

on.” Even though they trusted the old man, it was with some

apprehension they threw down their torches. However, they did as he

bid them. Stepping through the open doorway, they followed the old

man into the warm orange glow...

Once through, into the area beyond the doorway, a labyrinth of

tunnels, all of the lit by the same orange glow, heading off in a

myriad of different directions, greeted the two Outlanders. Some of

these tunnels were so narrow only a little person such as an Orlu

could have any hope of entering, while others were so large a hound-

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horse with rider atop could pass through it with ease. As to where all

of these tunnels were leading to, they could only guess, but if one of

them led to the Temple of Wan, Wot and Nott would be very happy

to take it.

Inside, the heat was even more intense than outside the door, though

it did not seem to bother Ondo one bit. As per usual, Nott asked the

first question, he said, “Why is it so hot in here? Doesn’t it bother

you?”

“Hot? Oh, yes,” Ondo replied as he set off down a nondescript

tunnel, ahead of them. “I suppose it must appear a bit hot to you.”

Waving an arm, he said, “Come; follow me.”

Pressing him further, Nott said, “Hot is hardly the word! It’s

absolutely roasting down here! How on earth do you stand it?”

“Hmm, well, if you had lived as long as I have, you would need

something to keep you warm, to keep you going. This heat that

radiates from deep within our world is the lifeblood of Onisha…

without it there is nothing.” He paused, and then he added, “This

heat keeps me alive. Without it I will be no more, who then will

guard the Temple of Wan?”

Another mention of the temple, but still no sign of it, thought Wot.

The two lads followed, trying to keep up with the fast-moving old

- 125 -


man, along the long winding tunnel. Glancing back over his

shoulder, Ondo said, “Don’t worry, Nott. In time you’ll get used to

the heat.”

Nott, however, did not intend being there for one second more than

necessary, his only wish being for the cool fresh air above.

Ondo turned right into another tunnel. The two Outlanders followed

him religiously through twists and turns, twists and turns. For a man

who depended on a stick for support Ondo certainly travelled fast. At

times, they actually found it difficult to keep up with him, as he

wove in and out from sight, ahead of them. Eventually, though,

Ondo’s pace slowed, and the lads caught up. Standing at the end of

the tunnel, the old man leaned heavily upon his stick.

“Thank God that’s over!” said Nott, catching his breath. “I’m worn

out.” The scene beyond the tunnel’s confines suddenly caught his

undivided attention. Seeing it, he was lost for words. You see, the

end of tunnel opened onto a huge cavern, which despite having no

obvious means of illumination was as bright as day. The orange glow

of the tunnels remained there, within them. To add further to the

strange experience the grey stonewalls had so many clusters of

multicoloured crystals sticking out from them. Beams of light

bouncing off these crystals reflected their colours in such a wondrous

manner it mesmerised Wot and Nott. These beams of pure radiance

reflecting from the crystals shot across the huge cavern, where they

bounced off other equally radiant crystals on the far side, to yet

- 126 -


another equally distant part of the cavern. These gemstones, these

crystals ranged in colour from pure white through to pink, blue,

purple, green and yellow; there was every conceivable colour – and

then some – in the wonderful light show.

Walking out into the cavern, from where the light spectacle was even

more impressive, Wot and Nott marvelled at it. Bouncing off the two

Outlanders, making them a part of this wonderful light show, the

beams of colourful light streaked away to other far-flung parts of the

cavern, a dazzling exhibition that would put the most professional

fireworks display producer to shame.

Intermingled amongst these colourful crystals, however, there were

black crystals, incredibly black crystals. Some of them were so small

they were hardly noticeable, but others so large they had colonised

entire areas of the huge cavern. At first, the two Outlanders thought

nothing of it, because dark crystals occur naturally. What alerted

their senses, however, sending alarm bells ringing, was the way in

which these particular crystals behaved; they did not reflect light, be

it white, pink blue, purple green or even yellow. No matter what

colour struck the black crystals, they instantaneously absorbed it.

The black crystals were the antithesis of the light spectacular in the

cavern.

Ondo stood, watching, holding onto his stick for support. He needed

it now more than ever before. “Something is wrong,” he cried out. “I,

Ondo-O-Osiqualo, the Keeper of the Temple, have failed! I have

- 127 -


failed in my duty. The Temple of Wan has been desecrated!”

Lowering his head, he said no more, a broken man, showing every

year of his incredibly long life.

This put Wot and Nott is an awkward position, for the man they had

only just met appeared to be undergoing a personal crisis. Trying to

give him some hope, something to cling to, Wot said, “Can we be of

any help?”

Ondo remained motionless for several more minutes before he spoke

again, when he did, lifting his withered old head, surveying the

damage done to the Temple of Wan, he said, “Yes, you can help.

Come, come closer.” His eyes darting from side to side, he

whispered, “You were sent here for a reason…it must be to undo this

terrible altercation of the Stones. Perhaps, I have been here too

long...” he whispered even quieter, “...perhaps I am too old. Perhaps,

new ways and new ideas are needed.”

Ondo’s words unsettled Wot and Nott. By their own admission, they

were there to save the wills, the chi, of all Onishians. And there he

was, a man, an Onishian standing before them, a man so weak, a

man so frail he might pass away at any moment, asking for their

help, in something they knew absolutely nothing about. “We must

help him!” said Wot. “He’s desperate!”

Nott, however, still longing for the cool fresh air above, just

shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.

- 128 -


“Ondo, if we are to be of any help to you,” said Wot, “you must

explain what is going on.”

Shifting his grip on his stick, Ondo looked deep into Wot’s eyes, and

said, “This is Wan. This is the Temple, and the Temple is the People.

This is our chi.” He waved an arm, showing him the huge cavern.

“Here in Onisha everything is interconnected, all is interdependent.

We are the land and the land is us. These beams of light are the

persona of the people – and they are dying!” Ondo gazed sorrowfully

at the beams ricocheting across the Temple. “This light is a

celebration of us, of our souls, but it is disappearing into the black

crystals… As each separate beam of light is absorbed, vanishing to I

know not where, the will of the Onishians correspondingly

weakens...and finally dies. I did not see the danger; I did not see it

enter the temple. I have failed the people!” The ancient man was so

upset he stood there, withdrawn, dejected and visibly shaking.

Despite pressing him further, they were unable to glean any more

information from him.

“So this is the Temple of Wan!” said Nott. “I had expected

something grander, along the lines of an ancient Greek temple,

perhaps, with high columns and the like.”

It took the two lads a while to ingest the concept of the Temple of

Wan being a rough cavern, but eventually they came round to the

concept, and marvelled once again at the beauty surrounding them.

- 129 -


Leaving Ondo to his thoughts, Wot whispered, “Nott, remember your

gift, your gift of vision! Try using it now, to show us the way.”

Nott had almost forgotten about the gift he had received while sitting

beneath the old plum tree. It had worked, before, so there was no

reason why it should not again. “Okay, give me a minute,” he

replied. “I will need to compose myself.” Opening his mind,

thoughts, words and pictures flooded into it. Words, words – so

many of them – entered his mind’s eye. He saw pictures, too, visions

of what might be if they happened to be successful. He also saw

images so sad, predictions so bad they scared him almost to death…

Like a brick striking him hard on the back of his head, the enormity

of their situation sent Nott collapsing to the ground, writhing in pain,

while at the very same instant the way forward miraculously came to

him. “We must be as one with the crystals,” he declared

triumphantly, as soon as the pain had eased.

Wot helped his best friend to his feet. Nott felt decidedly wobbly, but

he had to convey the message, the way forward – and quickly, “We

must become as one with the crystals!” he said. “That is the way

forward!”

“How are we to become as one with the crystals?” Wot asked,

fearing it nigh on impossible. Moreover, even if they did somehow

manage to achieve the seemingly impossible task – whatever it

entailed – he wondered where they might go from there.

- 130 -


Nott did not share his friend’s concerns. He knew without a shadow

of a doubt it was the way, the only way to help the old man, Ondo,

and by luck (or otherwise) he also knew that it was the way forward

in their quest. Nott did not have the answers to most of the questions

posed by their current situation, but he did have unwavering faith

they could see their way through. He spoke, saying, “You know,

Wot, at the beginning of all this...neither one of us knew the answer

to any of the questions confronting us. In fact, we had no idea what

most of the questions even were, but we still agreed to help Umahia.

Everything has worked out so far, hasn’t it?” Wot nodded. “With that

in mind we should have nothing to worry about – I know we can do

this.”

If this little pep talk was supposed to inspire Wot, in reality it turned

out to be a damp squib, for he simply could not shake off the feeling

that something terribly bad was about to happen. Keeping these

feelings to himself, however, he went along with his little friend’s

plan, saying, “Okay, I’ll give it a go. “Pointing, he asked, “Have you

any idea how we can be as one with those crystals?”

Waving a hand like the old man had done earlier, Nott said, “See all

of these crystals?”

“Yes.”

“These crystals are the chi, the life force of the Onishians. Without

them, without these coloured stones the people are little more than

- 131 -


mindless slaves. It is through the destruction of these gemstones that

Miafra has been removing the will of the people. Many are gone –

perhaps forever. Our mission is to stop this from proceeding any

further, and to restore those that have been lost...if we can.”

Continuing, he said, “When the beams of light rebound and reflect in

perpetual harmony all is right in Onisha. There is no external source

illuminating this temple, Wot. The light within the crystals that has

been there since the beginning of Creation is self-sustaining... It was

self-sustaining until Miafra cast his evil abroad. Miafra’s dark

powers created the black stones, which unknown to Ondo, entered

the temple and began sucking the life force from Onisha. The best

way, the only way we can stop it is to become as one with the

crystals. It is only when we have achieved this can we have any hope

of fighting the Darkness.” For the moment, Nott had no wish to

explain anymore, so wrapping it up, he said, “Wot, are you with

me?”

“Of course I am,” he replied decisively. “You should know me better

than that!” Lifting a finger, he added, “Though, I still can’t imagine

how we might do it!”

“It will be easier than you could ever imagine,” Nott confidently

replied. “Simply place yourself in the centre of the temple and leave

the rest to me.”

Although he was concerned as to what his friend had in mind, Wot

made his way out to the centre of the cavern, saying nothing.

- 132 -


“Are you ready?” Nott asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Watching the beams of colourful light streaking their way across the

huge cavern, Nott recalled his vision, the vision in which he had

created a Rhyme, the Mystical Rhyme necessary for the dangerous

task ahead.

“Into and under we have come along,

Entered the land where we do not belong,

We must join with the crystal – colours so rare,

And enter the darkness of the stones, we must dare.”

Nott would be the first to admit it was not much of a rhyme;

nevertheless, he was happy with it.

As the two friends waited, at first nothing seemed to be happening.

More than anyone, Wot knew that patience was vital in times such as

this, so he said nothing and waited some more. Then, it started to

happen, the beams of reflected light, which had been reflecting off

Wot, began passing through him. He was becoming a part of the light

show itself – and he loved it! A huge smile crept onto his face, and

he said, “Wow! This is fantastic!”

- 133 -


The changes continued…

Wot could feel his body changing, becoming a part of the

extraordinary light show, he was becoming as one with the colourful

crystals themselves.

Suddenly, one of the brightest rays of reflected light struck Wot

squarely in the chest, changing him, transforming him into light, into

the pure unadulterated energy of the light spectrum itself. Then he

disappeared from sight.

“Phew,” Nott sang out, “It worked, it actually worked!” It had

indeed worked, because at that very moment his old friend, or that

which was left of him, had joined the extraordinary light show within

the Temple of Wan.

While this was all happening, Wot’s sensations and perceptions also

changed. The way he comprehended the physical world diminished

until it was all but gone, replaced by senses, sensations and ways of

understanding that were so alien to him. He was, or rather his

consciousness was instantaneously in every part of the Temple at the

same time. He was aware of every crystal, every facet, and every last

colour of the light spectacular. He also felt an immense sadness for

the missing ones, the ones consumed by the black crystals. Suddenly,

a ray of hope lit in his mind, and Wot understood, he somehow knew

the chi they represented had not yet perished. He knew they were in

a place, awaiting the final decision on their future, or lack of it.

- 134 -


However, time was running out. They had to be saved – and soon.

Now that he was composed of pure light, as one with the Temple of

Wan, Wot celebrated and marvelled in the wonderment of it all.

Whenever he collided with the crystals, he felt their energy mingling

with his own, some similar and others subtly different, depending on

the colour they happened to be. It was a dance, a dance of life. He

would have stayed there forever had it not been for his mission, a

mission that was already steering him, veering him in another

direction, a direction that struck fear into his very soul – towards the

black crystals…

Meanwhile, Nott had placed himself in the centre of the cavern, the

same spot where his friend had been standing. Repeating the very

same words that he had used to transform Wot, he tried to join him,

but nothing happened. He tried again, still no luck. There were the

same ones, he was sure of it. Panic began to set in. Despite trying

repeatedly, he was unable to join Wot. In sheer desperation Nott

called out, “Wot! Wot! Can you hear me?” It was useless; his

lifelong best friend was gone. Reluctantly, he gave up. Wot was on

his own…

Wot had no idea, no comprehension that Nott was calling him; he

- 135 -


had no memory of Nott or anything else for that matter of the

physical world. Nevertheless, he did remember why he was there,

why destroying the black crystals was so important to him. With

each reflection and deflection he experienced around the Temple of

Wan, the black crystals became increasingly closer.

As Wot sped across the enormous cavern, glorifying its celebration

of life, he began to understand the values behind that which was

Onisha. A violent jolt suddenly interrupted his thoughts. He had

collided, albeit it partially, with one of the black crystals. It was

barely a graze but enough to remind him of the full intent of his

mission and the associated dangers therein. At the very instant he had

touched the black stone Wot felt his life force changing, dividing,

leaving. He was defiled. The collision had made little or no

difference to his speed, however, and he continued unabated

crisscrossing the huge cavern. But a part of him – his chi – was gone,

taken somewhere, somewhere very dark indeed. He knew the only

way to retrieve it was by entering wholly and fully one of the dark

crystals. It made no difference which one; they were all part of the

same. He had to find a way of rejoining his chi before he could ever

attempt saving the others.

It was not long before Wot got the opportunity he wanted. He had

just reflected off a wonderfully coloured stone, a mixture of light

blue and deep purple, and was still bathing in its translucent glow,

when the largest, blackest crystal in the entire temple appeared

directly ahead of him. The knowledge that he was about to collide

- 136 -


with and enter its darkest recesses filled Wot with trepidation.

The dark crystal grew larger and larger, as closer and closer Wot

approached it. He could see it so clearly now. It so incredibly black;

no light reflected off or emitted from it. The crystal had all the

appearance of a black hole ready to engulf anything that touched it.

Then, with a loud WHUUP he collided with it. He had entered the

realm of the black crystals...

Chapter Eight

The Realm of the Black Crystals

An eerie quietness engulfed Wot. He was alive. He was intact. That

was a good start. However, he was baffled as to what he might do

next. Then it struck him, he was normal again. He could feel his feet,

his arms – everything! Despite this wholeness, Wot felt that

something was still missing, but could not quite put a finger on it,

what it might actually be.

- 137 -


A grey lightness beckoned Wot on, and with nothing else better on

his immediate agenda, he headed towards it. Approaching it, he saw

how gloomy a place it happened to be. On entering it, passing

through the veil of greyness, the true reality of the place hit him

hard. It was a room, no more than twenty feet in width, but long, so

incredibly long it was impossible to see where it ended. It might

have gone on forever for all that he knew. This room (for want of a

better word) had walls, floor and ceilings composed of a grey

ethereal substance, like clouds. The room was in a constant state of

flux, making it difficult for Wot to see where floor finished and walls

began. Although it was possible for him to walk upon the undulating

floor’s surface, it was with some difficulty – and a terrible feeling of

nausea – that he did so.

As Wot’s eyesight adjusted to the gloomy conditions therein, he

discovered the room’s true purpose, and his heart skipped a beat. You

see, hanging vertically, suspended in the grey air, as far as the eye

could see, were row upon row of bodies. He touched one; it was

warm to the touch. They were not dead, but they were definitely not

alive in the usual sense of the word. It was a shocking discovery

made even more shocking by the fact that more of these bodies were

joining their fallen comrades as he watched.

These bodies had more of the appearance of ghosts than of people,

Wot thought, echoes of the living, half there and yet half somewhere

else, going about their daily tasks, obeying Miafra without question.

He inspected them further… Their skin was pale in colour, so very

- 138 -


pale – they were Wan. (Standard dictionary meaning of Wan is pale,

white, grey or ashen).

One particular specimen hanging at the beginning of a long row

suddenly caught Wot’s attention. It sent shivers down his spine – It

was HIM!

Jumping away, in utter and absolute fright, shivers of dread running

down his spine, Wot stood there, staring in sheer disbelief as what he

was seeing. Was it really him? “This must have occurred when I

collided with the black crystal,” he said. “I thought something

happened to me, but not this… God, it’s so still…”

After recovering from the initial shock of seeing his chi hanging

there before him, Wot, regaining some of his lost decorum, walked

up to the semblance of himself, to inspect it. Sure enough, it was he;

it even had the small scar on his left ear that he had received during a

rugby match so many years previous. His fingers stretched out,

daring to touch the ghostly figure before him. However, fear got the

better of him and he withdrew his hand at the last moment. It was

like trying to touch a spectre. Another shiver of dread ran down his

spine.

Miafra had turned the temple, the Temple of Wan that was a

celebration of life into a celebration of death, or near death. A

celebration of the grip, the control he had on the land and its people.

Seeing himself suspended there alongside the lost souls of Onisha,

- 139 -


Wot understood with a new urgency how important it was that he

succeed in his task. He tried to concentrate, to work out how he

might save his chi, but it was getting harder and harder to

concentrate by the second...

“If only I had the Amulet of Oxmosis,” he said. “If I had that in my

possession I might be able to contact Umahia. I am sure he could tell

me what I should do.” Something lying upon the undulating ground

then caught his attention. It had a familiar look to it, and he said, “Is

that the amulet? Nah, it can’t be the amulet! ” With heart beating

fast, he walked closer to see what it actually was. “It is the amulet,”

he cried out, “but how?” He tried to pick it up but his hand went

straight through the magical talisman. On closer inspection, Wot

realised that it was not the amulet, only a semblance, a facsimile of

it, but a very welcome facsimile nevertheless.

Wondering how he could make use of the apparition, Wot

contemplated using a Mystic Rhyme. He never had the opportunity

to try it, though, because the large red stone set within the centre of

the amulet began glowing red. Watching it grow, Wot was incredibly

relieved to see a vision within the red hue; the face of the Grand

Mystic, Umahia himself. The image of the old man’s face, swaying

this way and that, in rhythm to the motions of the undulating floor,

made Wot feel nauseas again, but he was so excited at seeing him, he

ignored it, saying, “You are a sight for sore eyes, Umahia.” Without

offering him the chance to reply, he asked, “How did you do that,

appearing just as I thought of you? It’s like you were reading my

- 140 -


mind. Can you help me?” he asked. “I’ve no idea what I should do.

What exactly is this place anyhow?” He could have gone on forever,

asking Umahia questions.

The old sage spoke slowly, calmly, he said, “Relax, Wot, you are

doing fine. You have entered the Realm of the Black Crystals. A

lesser man could not have achieved this. You are letting your feelings

get in the way of the truth. You must step beyond this, only then can

you achieve your goal.” He continued, “Remember, I am always

with you in spirit. I have been following your every move. Having

heard your wish for the amulet, I projected its image to this place.

However, that is all I can do. I cannot send it to you. There are

dangers in doing even this, speaking to you. I must be brief.”

Wot was so eager that he use the amulet, despite Umahia’s warning

that it was not possible, he blurted out, “The Amulet of Oxmosis is

all that I need! With that in my possession I can destroy this place

and free the trapped chi!”

“No! You cannot have the amulet,” Umahia said firmly. “I have

already told you this.” Wot’s face fell. Umahia continued, “What I

can give you is guidance, listen carefully…”

“You have lost your chi – that is why you find it difficult to think, to

see clearly, why you are unsure of yourself. You have already seen it

in the others, the lost souls.” Umahia pointed to the ghostly image of

Wot. “That is why you are finding it difficult to work things out.”

- 141 -


Wot looked once again at his chi, floating at the end of the long line

others.

“You must rejoin it,” Umahia told him. “You must be complete

again.”

“But how can I do that?”

“Touch it, reunite with it. You must do this, GO!”

Wot’s foggy brain tried to think, but he was so confused, so puzzled,

so undecided.

“Do It!”

Obeying Umahia’s instructions, Wot tentatively approached his other

half.

“Go on, touch it!”

Stretching, inching his hand towards the ghost before him, trying to

free it, Wot pulled back his hand at the very last moment. He found it

so incredibly hard to go the final mile, to touch his chi. It filled him

with terror. He was unable to say why this was so, it just was. After

everything he had been through since his arrival in Onisha it should

have been an easy enough task; he wondered why it was it so

different, so difficult.

- 142 -


Sensing his thoughts, Umahia said, “This fear you are harbouring is

a part of the spell cast by Miafra, you must overcome it. You must

rejoin your chi. Do it, Wot, DO IT NOW!”

Umahia’s words finally gave Wot the courage he needed. His fingers

trembling with fear, Wot reached out, daring to touch his chi that

appeared so large and lifeless hanging there before him. Almost

there, only a few inches to go... Taking a deep breath, with one last,

huge effort, he touched the ghostly mirror image of himself.

The instant Wot’s finger touched his chi it returned to him and they

were one. Wot immediately felt the return of his full mental

faculties, his thoughts were again his and he was raring to go.

“I feel complete again!” he cried out to Umahia. “I can’t believe how

much of my mind, myself had been missing. I wasn’t able to

understand that in my altered state, but I certainly do now!”

Umahia smiled, and said, “My time is up, I must go. Remember,

Wot, use your gift.” With that, he faded from sight.

Standing alone, the silence engulfed Wot as he watched yet more of

the ghostly forms arriving. “Soon the total will of the people will be

under Miafra’s control,” he whispered. “I must act fast.”

“Right, I had better get cracking,” he said. “What were Umahia’s

words? Oh, yes, I remember, he told me to use my gift. Well, I know

- 143 -


what that is, but is it really that easy? Just create another Mystic

Rhyme and everything will be returned to normal?” Wot knew only

too well that he had to expect the unexpected, so his plan would have

to take into consideration…

“I must create the words needed to undo this place,” he said. “But I

must be careful, very careful that the chi of the people are not

destroyed along with it. This place must be undone, the black

crystals must be no more, but does this actually mean destroying

them?” He scratched his head, pondering his words…

“Perhaps I could alter them, change them into a force of good, of

light rather than darkness,” he whispered. “That might be the

answer!” This last thought fascinated Wot. Pacing the floor, he

continued, “If I were to change the crystals, from black to the full

colours of the light spectrum, perhaps they would then act in the

same way as the others, reflecting the light of life, instead of taking

it.” He paced the undulating floor some more. “This in itself will not

be enough. The words of the Rhyme must also return the chi – all of

them – to the people to Onisha.” Scratching his head again, he said.

“Hmm, this will be rather complicated... but I think I can give it a

go.”

Sitting cross-legged upon the undulating floor, Wot took out his little

book (it was quite tatty by now) and wrote into it. The words came

surprisingly easily…

- 144 -


“Crystals black, crystals dark,

Crystals absorbing all rays; so stark.

Change now from that hue so dark,

To full spectrum of the light, I hark,

Reflect the light of life, so dear.

Restore the will of the people, I declare.

Remove this place of grey, so cold,

Leave not a trace behind, unfold,

So all will be as it started, began,

Then return me to the Temple of Wan.”

The Mystic Rhyme was in no way as long as he had hoped it might

be, but it contained all the necessary details nevertheless. “I suppose

there’s no time like the present,” he said, “so I had better get on with

it.” Standing up, trying to settle his feet upon the undulating floor,

Wot held the little book open and began reading…

“Crystals black, crystals dark

- 145 -


Crystals absorbing all rays; so stark.”

He looked up - nothing was happening.

“Change now from that hue so dark

To full spectrum of the light, I hark.”

He had a feeling that something was happening, that a change was

beginning…

“Reflect the light of life, so dear,

Restore the will of the people, I declare.”

Something was happening… the chi, the ghostly grey bodies were no

longer entering. In fact, they were beginning to leave, to leave the

place of the un-dead. Wot’s pulse quickened, he continued…

“Remove this place of grey, so cold

Leave not a trace behind, unfold –.”

Suddenly, all hell broke loose as the room exploded in a cascade of

frenzied movement, the walls, the floor, the ceiling – all of them

- 146 -


writhing in a seething mass of undiluted anger. Huge thrashing

waves that threatened to engulf Wot replaced the soft undulations of

the floor. Crouching, trying to avoid its full force, he tried to keep

balance.

Having turned as black as coal, the ceiling thrashed wildly. The walls

convulsed, pushing in and out in a wild frenzied motion. Then, one

of these many protrusions bulged, encircling Wot, engulfing him,

sucking him into the wall.

While struggling, trying to fight his way through the stick, gooey

substance that found its way into every nook and cranny of his

person, Wot held his breath, trying desperately to free himself before

it was too late. It was in his ears, up his nose, under his shirt and

deep within his boots. Wot had no hope of continuing the Mystic

verse while stuck there within it, he had no hope of finishing the

Rhyme and, more worrying, he was unable to hold his breath forever.

Within the confines of the wall, Wot felt the true nature of the beast

(or was it was the true nature of Miafra?). Even if he had been able

to speak, he knew there was no point in negotiating with a person

mired in Darkness, a person whom he had to stop. For the time being

at least, Wot had other more pressing matters to deal with, namely

how to survive the disastrous situation he found himself in.

Wot had to escape the frenzied wall of evil, but the more he

struggled the tighter it gripped him. He wondered if it was gaining

- 147 -


strength from his desperation. That gave him an idea; perhaps this

was its Achilles Heel. Maybe that is the answer, he thought. Perhaps,

it is feeding on my hopelessness and desperation, and it that is really

the case, then the only logical way to escape is by giving up. With

that, he relaxed his body. If I totally relax, he thought, even for a

moment, whatever is holding me will think the struggle is over, and

then it will ease its hold upon me. It was a big gamble with no

guarantee of success, but he had no other choice – he had to try it!

Wot stopped struggling and totally relaxed, allowing every muscle in

his body to go slack. That which had been holding him immediately

sensed this change and relaxed its grip accordingly.

Wot had to act quickly, for his sneaky ploy might not fool it for long.

Springing into action, clawing, punching, smashing his way through

the sticky confines of the wall, Wot inched his way slowly to

freedom. It was working! He was doing it! He could see now the

grey light of the room, ahead. With one final almighty heave, he

pulled himself free from the wall’s sticky grip.

With the remains of the sticky, gooey substance still dripping from

him, Wot retreated to what he hoped was a safe distance away from

the walls. “I’m safe, but for how long?” he asked.

Without warning, in a frenzied cacophony the floor, walls and ceiling

began thrashing wilder and wilder, culminating with a deadly new

threat to Wot. Humanlike features began to appear in the ethereal

substance. Two huge, menacing arms emerging from opposite walls

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tried to grab Wot. As if that was not enough for him to contend with,

a huge angry face appeared in the ceiling above, but no human face

had ever contained the evil this face portrayed. And this face stared

down angrily at Wot…

This latest development took Wot completely by surprise, for he

dared to believe he was over the worst. The deeply, darkly face and

hands, growing larger by the second, were playing cat-and-mouse

game, a deadly game of cat and mouse in which he was most

definitely not the cat!

Not daring to move, not even an eyelid, Wot considered the situation,

“At least there are only two arms,” he said quietly, pondering it

further. Then he cried out, “The Rhyme! I almost forgot! I never

finished it! It must have been working! Why else would all this be

happening? I must finish it.” Knowing that the Rhyme was beginning

to work was of no help to Wot if he perished without finishing it. He

had to get the upper hand of the situation, if only for a few moments.

“If only I could–” said Wot, never finishing his sentence, because the

evil face in the ceiling, having set its sights firmly upon him, sent

one of its huge arms lunging at him. Despite finding it difficult to

balance upon the heaving floor, Wot made a brave effort to outrun it.

He even made some headway, at first, but the huge face and arms

followed him doggedly, sliding their way along the walls and ceiling

with ease. Making contact, one of the giant arms, grabbing Wot

tightly around the waist, lifted him effortlessly off the floor. The pain

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was so excruciating Wot wondered how long he could stand it before

he passed out. The second huge arm then knocked Wot’s little book

clear out of his hand, as the evil face above laughed mockingly at

him.

There were only two lines, two short lines of the Mystic Rhyme left

to recite. It was imperative that Wot get his book back, and when he

did – if he did – he could not risk getting a single word of it wrong.

If that happened, he might have to start the whole lot again. There

was certainly no time for that. All this and more rushed through his

worried mind as he dangled precariously beneath the watchful face

of evil. Wot had to get the upper hand – and fast – to stop the

desperation which had created such a hideous thing.

When he created the main Rhyme, Wot had also prepared another

one, as a backup, as insurance in case something happened to go

wrong – and it had! With the express intention of making it easy to

remember, Wot had deliberately made this Rhyme short – very short.

However, before he was able to use it, he first had a problem to deal

with; he was still in the grip of the giant hand, a grip so tight he

could hardly breathe let alone recite a poem, and the pressure was

increasing by the second.

Wriggling about in the hand, Wot tried to secure some freedom of

movement, freedom he desperately needed to recite his back-up

verse. As the evil face continued to laugh mockingly at him, Wot

suddenly felt a smidgeon of movement, a slight loosening of the

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iron-like grip holding him. This was the opportunity he had hoped

for and he intended to take full advantage of it…

“A minute’s grace is what I need,

A minute’s time to do my deed.”

It was done. It was short. It was sweet. But would it be enough?

The pressure of the giant hand upon Wot’s aching body eased and the

pain ebbed slowly away. “It worked!” Wot gasped, hardly believing

his luck. “It actually worked!” However, the time he had secured was

only a minute, one short minute in which he must recite the last two

lines of the main Rhyme. Extricating himself from the hand, Wot

jumped to the floor that was still thrashing and heaving wildly.

Picking up his book, turning to the required page, Wot searched for

the words he needed. The minute, the one short minute he had

managed to secure was almost up. He began speaking the words of

the Rhyme, but the minute was gone. Pandemonium restarted.

Screaming, trying to make himself heard above the noise all around

him, Wot shouted…

“So all will be like it started, began,

Then return me to the Temple of Wan.”

It was done; Wot had finished reciting the words of the Rhyme.

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The lines of chi that were still there began shaking violently. The evil

face in the ceiling roared displeasure, while its arms struck out,

knocking Wot clear across the floor; shattered, unable to offer any

more resistance.

The abomination roared ever louder, desperately fighting, struggling

against the magic of the Mystical Rhyme. Its arms jerked violently,

striking the floor crashing blows, tearing it apart. Its face began to

fade, losing its form, its life. The arms, which had been so strong,

grew smaller and smaller until they disappeared, returned to the

wildly moving walls from which they had come. The remains of the

evil face dissolved into the thrashing ceiling, gone.

Lying on the floor, worn out but incredibly happy, Wot smiled. Then

he noticed it; the floor was still. Its heaving had stopped. In fact all

the frenzied activity had stopped. Standing, inspecting the long room

where only a few minutes earlier lines of ghostly grey bodies had

floated, waiting for their final demise, Wot saw empty space. Had

they returned home to Onisha, he wondered, or been destroyed in the

violence. “Hmm,” he said, scratching his head, thinking about it. “If

I had returned to the Temple of Wan, I would guess they were okay.

However, I am still here...” He studied the room some more. The

changes he had instigated were still ongoing. This gave him some

hope. The entire room was dissolving, disappearing around him.

Wot smiled again, content in the knowledge that his words had

helped win the battle, “The pen is indeed mightier than the sword,”

he mused.

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The dissolving process continued apace. Within minutes little

remained of that terrible place, the realm of the black crystals.

Standing on the last remnants of the floor as it disappeared beneath

his feet, Wot suddenly felt himself shooting through the cavern that

was the Temple of Wan, where he landed heavily in front of his best

friend.

Looking down at the crumpled heap of a person before him, Nott

was unable to decide whether he was glad to see Wot or if he was

still mad at him. “Where on earth have you been?” he asked. “And

why did you leave me behind?” Wot, too tired to answer, just lay

there, happy to be back, despite Nott’s never ending line of

questions. “I couldn’t follow you,” said Nott. “I tried, but it was

useless. Are you okay?”

“Yes, old mate, I am fine,” he eventually replied.

After he had rested, Wot told Nott about his lonely adventure, about

his collision with the black crystal, and entry into the world beyond

it. He also told him how he had found the chi of the people and been

forced to fight a menacing face and arms. Concluding his account,

Wot said, “My intent was to change the black crystals into normal

ones, I hope it worked.”

Shaking his head in wonderment at it all, Nott replied, “That is

certainly some story, and if it was not for this (he waved his arm,

presenting the cavern to his friend) I would have found it difficult to

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believe.”

Inspecting the cavern, Wot’s eyes lit up with excitement, because not

even one black crystal remained. That meant he had done it; he had

saved the chi of the people. “Perhaps now things might change,” he

said hopefully.

The two friends sat resting, comparing notes and catching up with

every detail that had transpired. Glancing across at Ondo, he was

saddened to see that he was still withdrawn, muttering incoherently.

Thinking his news might help the old man to snap out of it, Wot said,

“Everything is fixed, Ondo! Its alright, now, the black crystals are no

more.” Ondo, however, continued mumbling. “Ondo, listen! The

black stones are gone, they are destroyed!”

Lifting his withered old face, Ondo-O-Osiqualo, looking deep into

Wot’s eyes, began speaking. In a voice barely audible, he asked,

“You have destroyed the black crystals?”

“Indeed, I have!”

“The chi of the people…they have they been saved?”

“Yes, they are fine – I am sure of it,” Wot replied confidently. The

old-timer studied Wot’s face as if to glean some further information,

and then he said, “That is good. You have done well…far better than

I.”

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“Now that’s rubbish, my friend, and you know it,” Wot insisted. You

have stood guard here since the beginning of time. That will always

be more than I have done. No! You are the true champion here.”

Ondo looked kindly at Wot, and said, “Thank-you my friend.”

The happy reunion, however, did not last long, for the face from the

ceiling, the giant face of evil Wot thought he had seen off, suddenly

appeared. Floating demonically in front of them, it was mad!

“I thought you destroyed it!” Nott barked, scrambling away from the

face.

Wot thought he had vanquished it forever – surely it was dead? How

could it have survived? But there it was, as large as life, fully intent

on revenge.

Quite unexpectedly, Ondo came to his senses. He was The Keeper

again. Standing erect, shaking his stick defiantly, he let loose a

thunderbolt that streaked towards the unwelcome vision before them.

Although the ‘bolt hurtled towards the evil image, the huge face

evaded it effortlessly. Undeterred, the old man shook his stick again,

sending another even larger thunderbolt streaking towards the

ungodly vision. In the same way as before, the face of evil avoided

it also. Lowering his stick, supporting it horizontally between his

outstretched hands, Ondo readied himself for his final attempt to

banish the hideous abomination. He had no sooner taken position,

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than an almighty force erupting from the full length of his gnarled

wooden stick sent a broad beam of power streaking, screaming,

howling its way towards its objective. This time the face simply

disappeared, reappearing after the danger had passed. Had the face,

the abomination before them been toying with Ondo? Was it

incapable of being hurt? Was it showing them just how powerful it

really was, and how puny they were against it?

Although the old man, Ondo, stood his ground, staring out his

defiance, the face of evil losing interest in him turned its attention,

instead, to the two Outlanders. Gulping hard, Wot and Nott felt this

was a turning point in their mission, but not a good one. Keeping its

eyes focused on the two Outlanders, the evil face began to speak…

“I am Miafra, your Emperor supreme,” it declared. “You have been

like a thorn in my side... You came here to Summerland, to meddle in

things that do not concern you. I have been patient with you, far too

patient! You could have returned home to Earth, but you chose to

stay; in doing so you will have to pay the ultimate price.”

Utterly shocked by what they were hearing, Wot and Nott remained

stock-still. Miafra continued…

“You have been warned…” With that, it faded from sight.

The two Outlanders were gobsmacked, because this was the first

time they had actually seen Miafra, let alone heard from him (albeit a

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curious vision of him), and he was obviously mad, so very mad.

“For Miafra to have appeared, so, he must be hurting,” said Wot.

“That means we are making an impact, though how big a one is

anyone’s guess.”

“This has upped the stakes considerably,” said Nott. “From here on,

with him gunning for us, we will have to be even more careful. He

could be waiting around any corner, to pounce!”

“You’re right, Nott,” Wot agreed. “I just hope we are up to it.”

Despite his inability to overcome the face entity, Ondo was still his

former, fighting self. “I can’t leave the temple,” he explained. “That

would mean certain death, but if you ever need my help again, you

know where to find me.” The two Outlanders thanked the old man.

Waving, he said, “Come; I will escort you to the surface.”

At ground level, the two Outlanders inhaled the cool fresh air. It felt

so incredibly good. “Remember,” said Ondo, waving them goodbye,

“if you have need of my assistance, just ask.”

“Thanks, Ondo,” said Wot. “Perhaps we shall meet again, under

happier circumstances.”

“Bye, Ondo,” said Nott.

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The cool air penetrating his ancient body, the old man remained at

the door for little more than a minute. Waving them a last goodbye,

he went inside, closing the rusty old door behind him. The ground

quickly reclaimed the opening, the hole the Outlanders had dug,

earlier.

Squinting in the bright sunlight, Wot and Nott ran across to Kakuri,

to tell her about their extraordinary adventure while underground.

With hearts pounding, they called out, “Kakuri, we’re back! We have

so much to tell you!” However, they received no reply. Kakuri was

not there. They called out to her again, thinking, hoping she was

somewhere close by. “Kakuri! Kakuri! Where are you?” Silence; all

they heard by way of return was silence. “Kakuri, can you hear us?”

They asked, their voices trailing off.

“Something’s wrong,” said Wot.

“Where is she, Wot?”

“I, I don’t know…” he replied, shivering with fear in the warm

sunlight.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Wot, Nott, Kakuri and the HU HA HOU

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Part Three: The Changeling Attack

That’s it for now.

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www.crazymadwriter.com

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Wot, Nott, Kakuri and the HU BA HOU: Part Two - Realm of the Black Crystals

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Transcript of Wot, Nott, Kakuri and the HU BA HOU: Part Two - Realm of the Black Crystals