Healed by Hope by Jim Melvin Page A

to spectacular life, as if the forest had caught on magical fire. When the Asēkha finally woke, it was nearly dawn—and Bruugash and some of his Pabbajja had already returned.
    By noon of that day, it became apparent that there were at least twice as many Pabbajja as before. And most of them seemed agitated, their protruding eyes wriggling like hyperactive worms.
    Bruugash again approached the Asēkha. “Many have come, but more are on the way,” the overlord said. “Those who have arrived have told us much. Despite the decimation of Mala’s army, there are still monsters abroad in the interior of the forest. Of ghouls, goblins, and vampires, there are several thousand. Of trolls, Mogols, and wolves, there are several hundred. But because no Kojins remain in the world, these creatures pose little threat, other than to exhaust us as we give chase.”
    Then the hair around the overlord’s mouth puffed out as he sighed. “However, one serious problem remains . . .”
    “I don’t understand,” Ukkutīka said. “If there are no Kojins, what can deter us? It’s not like a great dragon can stroll among the trees.”
    “A great dragon? No,” Bruugash said. “But something almost as large and dangerous. Even before the Homeless People became as we are now, there lurked within the interior of Java an evil serpent as long and thick as an old oak. For many millennia it lay dormant and hidden. But my people report that soon after Mala’s army passed through the forest, the serpent re-awakened.”
    “A snake as large as a tree?” Ukkutīka said. “I find that interesting, but not overly threatening. Surely it cannot stand against Tugars and Pabbajja.”
    Kithar agreed. “It is more capable of providing us with a feast than a fight.”
    Bruugash’s eyes swirled frenetically. “ Kantaara Yodhas , you don’t understand. This is not a creature of ordinary flesh and blood. It wields magic almost as powerful as a Kojin’s, and its will is likened to a druid queen’s. Until it is destroyed, the deep dark places will never be safe.”
    Kithar’s expression grew serious. “If this is so, would it not be prudent to return to Tējo and inform our king of this danger?” he said to Ukkutīka. “Now that the sorcerer has been destroyed, no creature left on Triken can stand against The Torgon .”
    Ukkutīka shook his head. “Our king has done enough. I will not ask more of him so soon. Cleansing Java of evil is our task.” He turned to the overlord. “Does this serpent have a name?”
    “In the ancient tongue, he is called Sappa-Uraga ,” Bruugash said. “We know of no other name.”
    “Do not fear,” Ukkutīka said. “Together we will defeat Sappa-Uraga . Or perish in the attempt. Either will be an honorable conclusion to our lives.”
    “Ema . . . Ema . . .” Kithar chanted.
    Ukkutīka was amused when Bruugash did the same, as if it had become natural to him.

16
    ON HANDS AND knees, the little girl named Nimm crawled along a crusty blanket of fine yellow sand. She was almost as silent as a Tugarian youth of similar age.
    Nimm could see that the sun was just a few long breaths from setting. Though the Simōōn was thick and violent, it also was relatively transparent, at least as far as light was concerned. Filtered by the swirling tempest, the dimming sunlight was even more beautiful within the whirlwind than without. Crimsons, golds, and blues set the sand ablaze.
    The Simōōn was a league to her right. A league to her left was the outer fringe of Vimānal, the oasis within which the current version of Anna had been rebuilt. But neither of these sights held her attention. Instead, it was what lay just a stone’s throw away that consumed her curiosity.
    Nimm stealthily approached a pair of magnificent boulders that had been vomited from the molten underground long before Tējo had even existed in its desert form. The twin stones, molded into jagged pillars by eons of erosion, supported a third slab