Mountain of Fire by Radhika Puri Page A

He fell asleep and Taufan escaped. They don’t know where he is, and whether he is even alive after the eruption,” Pak Eko said.
    This was it, Fitri thought. This was the constant nagging feeling at the bottom of her stomach. Taufan had escaped. He was now roaming the countryside once again, free to create trouble.
    â€œWhat do we do now, Pak Eko?”
    â€œNothing for now. There is too much activity here. He won’t dare show up at the village. I’m off to the entrance of the cave. They are waiting for me to perform a ceremony. But you can stay and look around if you like.”

    The old man nodded and disappeared. Fitri stepped out of the hut. The view of the volcano was magnificent from where she was standing. There was only a small wisp of smoke coming out of the crater and it looked like the great Mountain of Fire was their friend again. A gentle breeze started up and the leaves around her moved along with it.
    She thought, Maybe I can learn a little more about the Merapi. About being a Spirit Keeper. It might be fun.
    Pak Eko strode steadily to the entrance of the cave. He had not been entirely honest with the girl. Taufan was alive. He could feel that. But the children had been through enough.
    There is no point in worrying them now, he thought.
    He crossed the stream towards the cave entrance. The water was no longer clear and sparkly. It was now gritty with the ash flowing through it. Remnants of the eruption lay everywhere. A broken branch, the ash on the leaves and the one thing that would stay for a long, long time: the smell.
    Agus was of course oblivious to all of this. His thoughts had been focused entirely on finding the cave entrance. Hoping and praying that the tremors had not blocked it again. He ran up the familiar path towards the cave and yelled in triumph when he recognised the spot.
    â€œHere it is!” he yelled, jumping up and down in excitement.
    Although covered with leaves and ash, the cave entrance was still noticeable. Pak Eko arrived just in time to find the group waiting anxiously, including the archaeologists who were eager to get in.
    Agus ran to the old man excitely and grabbed his hand. “Pak Eko! Hurry! Everyone is waiting!”
    The villagers were shocked. Such informality with the Spirit Keeper of the Merapi! What was the boy thinking? But Pak Eko did not seem to be the least bit bothered and started the ceremony.
    As soon as it was done, the archaeologists started clearing the debris and went down with torches. The villagers waited anxiously for them to come out again. Finally, the woman came out, coughing, removed her mask and announced, “It’s fine. Everything is still intact.”
    A loud cheer went around the group. The kingdom was okay!
    But the woman – her name was Jacqueline – was holding something in her hand, brown and very dusty. She tapped Agus on the shoulder. “Is this yours?” she asked.
    Agus looked at what she was holding. It looked like a book, with lots of handwriting in it.
    He shook his head. “No, I’ve never seen it before. What is it?”
    Jacqueline said, “I’m not sure. It’s not Bahasa. It looks like German to me. But I can’t be sure.”
    German? What would a book in German be doing in the lost kingdom? But just then the Merapi rumbled a little and the group froze.
    â€œIt’s nothing,” Agus said nonchalantly. “It’s just normal rumbling.”
    Behind his mask, Pak Eko smiled and thought, Yes, the boy is ready to learn. But the book has many stories and it has been found. I will need to pay a visit to the Priestess.
    A great distance away in the Sacred Grove, Priestess Aini sat quietly on the damp forest floor, watching the leaves twirl around the banyan tree.
    The young priest in white came up to her and said softly, “The children are safe, Priestess. The Merapi is not angry anymore. But Taufan got away.”
    The priestess nodded quietly.