SL001-180-70
SUBJ: Tashi of Kustos (SA)
SOURCE: BG
DATE: ********
It was time for Tashi to die. The Guardians called it the Age of Mortality, when young warriors faced their greatest fear—death. The ritual, if it could even be called that, was different for every individual. In fact, no Guardian, not even the elders, knew exactly when a warrior would be tested or what form the test would take. But it was a critical rite of passage for any Guardian seeking to take his or her place among the protectors of the gryphon’s claw. Tashi was still a few years behind the average age when most would face the test, but her skills were already well advanced beyond those of her peers. She had pressed the village elders to permit her to participate in dangerous training missions in an attempt to increase the likelihood she would “find” her test sooner. The elders denied Tashi’s appeal and cautioned her hubris.
By the time the three strangers entered Kustos, Tashi was deeply frustrated. She had become one of the most skilled fighters in the village, yet everyone still treated her like a child. So it was quite the surprise when the village elder, Yeshe, called on her to step forward. The youngest stranger of the trio had been injured, apparently gravely, and Tashi was to heal him. Tashi immediately recognized that healing the boy would be her test. There was no mistaking it. The Age of Mortality had been reached, and Sam London was Tashi’s ticket to fulfilling her life’s ambition. She would rescue him from the brink of death and risk her own in the process. She was reminded of an old saying Yeshe often repeated: “Be careful what you wish for.”
Fear was an alien concept to the Guardians. Tashi had never been scared, so it was difficult for her to recognize the feeling when it appeared. The sensation was one of overwhelming dread, as though something could—or rather would—go terribly wrong. The boy’s life and Tashi’s future were hanging in the balance, not to mention the fact that the gryphon was depending on her. After all, he had chosen to appear to Sam London above so many others. This had to mean the boy was important to the protection of the claw. And protecting the claw was a Guardian’s sworn duty.
Tashi was also keenly aware that once she undertook this healing, her life and Sam London’s life would never be the same. There was a reason Guardians who reached the Age of Mortality were not tested through healings: they created an unbreakable bond between the healer and the healed, a connection so powerful it became part of the Guardian’s existence from that day forward. When Guardians faced death and beat it protecting the gryphon’s claw, their bond with the creature was complete. Their instincts were instantly altered, and their lives would be forever dedicated to the claw’s protection.
But this was different. Saving Sam would create an enduring connection with him, as well as with the gryphon. It would mean that in addition to Tashi’s mission to protect the claw, Sam’s life from this point on would fall under her guard. Once the healing had occurred and the link had been established, protecting Sam would become instinct. It would be a part of her life and a part of his, for as long as they lived. Considering he was not a Guardian and did not live in Kustos, she wondered how this would be achieved. But that was a consideration for another time; she first had to save him.
Tashi had never known pain like the kind she experienced when she healed Sam’s injuries. Of course, like many young Guardians, Tashi had been hurt in trainings, but she had never been gravely injured. This feeling was understandably unique. When she absorbed Sam’s wounds, she could feel her life energy being drained from her body. One moment she was staring into his eyes and completing the transfer, and the next her world turned pitch-black.
At its heart, the test the Guardians faced was a mental battle, a war between their perceived reality and their beliefs. It was no secret that the gryphon’s blood pulsed through Guardian veins, and that as long as the claw was under their guard, they were protected from death and disease. That was part of the gryphon’s magic. Unfortunately, the only thing standing in the way of that magic was the Guardians’ all-too-human mind. If they didn’t fully believe or accept the power the gryphon had bestowed upon them centuries earlier, their sense of mortality grew stronger, clouded their thoughts, and put their lives in danger.
Tashi struggled to trust in the gryphon’s power when bleeding from a fatal wound. A voice in the back of her head whispered, What if? Those two simple words were worse than any injury because they meant her faith was fading. At that moment, Tashi’s body was rocked with a wave of excruciating pain. She was instantly overcome by a sense of despair and hopelessness. Her body went numb and her vision clouded like steam on a windowpane. Her ears were bombarded by a piercing ring, which spiraled upward in volume until it abruptly cut out and she was left listening to the loud, steady thump of her heartbeat. But the beat began to weaken. Tashi’s pulse turned softer and slower. The once-powerful drumbeat that marked her life was fading as though the drummer were marching farther and farther away. And then it was heard no more. Tashi of Kustos had succumbed to her injuries.
The darkness that followed was terrifying but brief. In a brilliant flash, the black void turned a gleaming white. As the brightness subsided, Tashi could see she was now standing on a rocky cliff in the middle of a vast desert. She recognized her surroundings as those from a dream she had—the dream of Sam London meeting Phylassos. What surprised her even more than finding herself in this place was the fact the gryphon was standing just a few feet away. Tashi dropped to her knees in reverence to the king of magical creatures.
“Rise, young warrior,” the gryphon said in a low growl. Tashi climbed slowly to her feet, her head still bowed. “Look upon me, Tashi of Kustos.” The warrior finally lifted her head and met Phylassos’s gaze. “Are you fearful?” he asked. Tashi shook her head adamantly. “Yet here you are. Do you not believe in me? In my power?” She shook her head again. “Yet here you are,” the gryphon wryly repeated. Tashi’s face registered a realization.
“Wait…,” she responded, confused. “Am I…?” The gryphon nodded. Tashi became instantly agitated. Her brow furrowed and her body tensed. “No!” she exclaimed. “No, that is not possible!” She pounded a fist against her chest in defiance. “This heart shall beat again,” she declared. “It must.”
“Why must it?” the gryphon inquired.
“Because Guardians cannot die. You have deemed this so.”
“Have I?” the gryphon said coyly. Tashi nodded. “But death is powerful, is it not?”
“Not as powerful as you,” she replied.
“Are you certain? Mustn’t each of us face the King of Terrors? The final enemy of all flesh?” the gryphon posited, a twinkle in his big green eyes.
Tashi stood taller and spoke the words she had grown up reciting every day of her young life: “I am a Guardian of the gryphon’s claw. Since the day of Alexander’s folly, we have sworn to serve the mighty Phylassos, father of all gryphons and protector of magical creatures. The gryphon’s blood flows through our bodies. Pumps our warrior hearts. It grants us power over death. The strength to choose when we fight our last battle. And today is not my day.” Tashi stressed those last six words with a steadfast and steely determination. The gryphon smiled when she was finished, and it was at that instant the young warrior felt a thump in her chest. It was a pounding beat that shook the ground beneath her feet. It was followed by another and another, until her heart was pumping once again.
“I shall live to protect the gryphon’s claw,” Tashi vowed with fearless resolve.
The gryphon leaned in and whispered loudly, “But that, Tashi of Kustos, is not your life’s only purpose.”
Tashi considered Phylassos’s words. “Sam,” she said. “Sam London.”
The gryphon nodded. “There will come a time when you must choose between the safety of the boy and my own.” Tashi’s eyes widened with concern. “When that moment comes, you will know who to choose,” Phylassos added.
“But…” Tashi needed more than that. She was sworn to protect both; how could she ever choose between them? She woke with a start to find herself in the barracks, her anxious parents sitting vigil nearby. They leapt to their feet, overjoyed that their daughter had succeeded. The test was complete. Tashi had overcome death and could take her rightful place as a Guardian of the gryphon’s claw. They brought her her favorite food and drink to celebrate, but Tashi was too distracted by thoughts of her vision and the prophetic words of the gryphon. She wondered about this future choice she would be forced to make and prayed for the wisdom to make it. One thing was certain: she and Sam London were now bound for all eternity—a truth with implications she didn’t yet fully understand.
Sam had heard the expression “deer caught in headlights” before. In fact, he had witnessed its inspiration one night when he and his mom were returning from a movie. The road was shrouded in a thick, soupy fog, and they pulled around a corner to find a deer standing in the middle of the street. Ettie slammed on the brakes and brought the car to an abrupt halt just a few feet from the terrified creature. It stared into the light, frozen like a statue. Finally, Ettie honked the horn and the animal scurried off into the woods.
Sam London currently found himself playing the part of the deer in that scenario; the car was a yeti, also known as an abominable snowman. Sam’s muscles clenched and his heart raced. He had slipped into fight-or-flight mode, and it was time to choose. Fortunately, the decision was made for him. A streak of lightning flashed across the cave ceiling. In an instant, Tashi was standing in front of Sam, crouched in a defensive posture. She spun her shekchen and met the yeti’s chest with the weapon’s tip. A charge shot through the staff and into the creature. The yeti vibrated off the ground and was then propelled backward twenty feet. Tashi spun around to face Sam, whose jaw was still in a fully dropped position.
“That was awesome!” Sam exclaimed. He was growing more impressed with Tashi with each passing hour. But she wasn’t fishing for a compliment; she was all business.
“Run!” she commanded.
Sam wasn’t about to argue. He turned to make a getaway, but as he did, he had a sudden realization. Everyone else was doing their part to protect the claw—Dr. Vantana and Chriscanis were in a heated battle with two other yetis near the cave entrance, while Tashi had just rescued him from certain death. But what was Sam contributing to this struggle? The answer was nothing. Whether it was the gargoyles, the redcaps, or the recent yak debacle, Sam London seemed to always need rescuing. It was high time he did something heroic, he thought. Without a moment to lose, Sam reached up and snatched the gryphon’s claw off the crystal podium, then ran for the innermost part of the cave.
Sam glanced back toward the others as he leapt over the treasures scattered on the cave floor. He had noticed that things had gotten eerily quiet all of a sudden and was curious to see whether they had won the battle. That wasn’t the case. The yetis had simply ceased fighting, and just stood there, motionless. Tashi, Vantana, and Chriscanis were puzzled.
“Looks like they may have had enough,” the cynocephalus suggested.
The three yetis pivoted toward Sam. Sam peered down at the golden claw in his clutches and had a frightful realization.
“Uh-oh,” he muttered.
The creatures charged him. There was no escape; he had gotten himself cornered, and the yetis were closing quickly with long, leaping strides. Sam spotted the doctor running behind the monsters.
“Throw it, Sam!” the doctor ordered. “Throw it!”
Sam cocked his arm back and launched the claw toward the doctor. It didn’t come close. The claw spun through the air and nailed one of the yetis in the head. Luckily, the blow dazed the beast long enough for Vantana to scoop up the precious relic and toss it to Chriscanis.
“Sorry!” Sam yelled.
“If we live, remind me to teach you how to throw,” the doctor offered as he scrambled away from the yetis.
The creatures spun around and headed for the claw’s new possessor. Chriscanis waited until they were right on him, then threw it to Tashi. She made a leaping catch worthy of the major leagues and dropped back down into her combat stance.
“I’m open!” the doctor announced, waving his hands.
Just as the yetis were about to pounce on the Guardian, she shot the claw to the doctor, then used her shekchen to sweep the legs of the creatures as they headed toward Vantana. They got back to their feet and continued their pursuit. The battle quickly devolved into a high-stakes game of Monkey in the Middle in which the monkey was a bloodthirsty yeti. But it didn’t take long for them to wise up.
The yeti in the center—who sported a black streak of hair on his otherwise pale head—called to the others with a gravelly roar. The two yetis stomped over to their counterpart, and the trio leaned in and barked at each other.
“Are they…huddling?” the doctor asked.
“They are a communal species,” Tashi explained. “Everything they do is by committee.” Tashi cleared her throat and made several sounds similar to those emitted by the yetis. The striped creature turned to her and responded with the same noises.
“Are you talking to them?” a stunned Chriscanis asked the young warrior. Tashi nodded and continued her dialogue with the yetis.
“Why didn’t you talk to them before?” the doctor inquired, a touch exasperated.
“They do not listen when they are in a rage,” Tashi replied matter-of-factly. “They say they are tired of playing games. They want the claw.”
“What a surprise. Tell them they can’t have it,” the doctor advised.
Tashi made a few more of the sounds, but the striped yeti appeared to lose interest. He turned back to his counterparts, and they continued their huddle. A moment later, the three yetis turned and started toward Sam.
“Why are they heading for me?” Sam said in a panic. “I don’t have the claw!”
“They will use you as leverage,” Tashi answered, as if the answer were obvious.
“Run, Sam! Before they can corner you,” Dr. Vantana ordered.
Sam eyed the converging yetis and saw an opportunity. He ran toward the creatures at full speed.
“Good gracious! You’re supposed to run away from the monsters!” Chriscanis exclaimed.
But Sam kept moving. Even the yetis appeared confused by his behavior. He sucked in a breath, then slid right between the legs of the striped yeti. The creatures were not prepared for the surprise move and took a moment to react. It was all the time Sam needed. He shot across the cave, leaping over jeweled cups and treasure chests filled with golden baubles as he made a beeline for Tashi, Vantana, and Chriscanis. The trio were cheering by that point, amazed and elated by his daring move.
“Now what?” Sam asked Tashi, when he finally reached the cave entrance.
“The gryphon’s claw is no longer safe here. We will bring it back with us to Kustos. Yeshe will know what to do.”
The yetis had redirected and were now lumbering back toward the entrance. Sam and the others spun around and sprinted through the stone doors. As they rushed outside, Tashi hung back and hit the door with the tip of her shekchen. A pulse of electricity spread across the stone surface, and the doors began to close. The yetis were too slow to reach the entrance in time. The massive stone doors shut, trapping the creatures inside.
Exhausted by the encounter, the group took a moment to catch their breath.
“Oh, for a pug’s sake,” Chriscanis said.
They turned to see what he had suddenly become aware of: the cave was behind them, but there were now two dozen abominable snowmen in front of them. The yetis had friends, and they were lined up side by side, their teeth bared, ready to fight.
Dr. Vance Vantana knew the score. The quartet was grossly outnumbered and outmatched. It was time to surrender. He could immediately tell his decision was not well received by Tashi. The warrior had never backed down from a fight; it was an entirely foreign concept to her people. But Vance reminded her she wasn’t the only one in this battle.
“We’ve got a responsibility to look out for the kid,” Vance whispered to her as she gripped her shekchen, preparing to take on the beasts solo if necessary. “And we’ll be useless to protect the gryphon’s claw if we’re all dead.” Tashi eyed him, then finally nodded in grudging agreement. Vance winked. “Don’t you worry. I still got a few tricks up my sleeve. Let’s see where this goes.”
* * *
The march to the yeti village was a bone-chilling struggle through ice and snow along a narrow, winding path that skirted the edge of the mountain. It was also downhill, which made slipping and falling to one’s death an ever-present possibility. Vance hoped someone would come searching for the quartet and find their tracks until he saw the snowmen covering their trail. It was fascinating. Two yetis at the rear of the pack blew the footprints away, expelling a large gust of air from their lungs. The force of the wind returned the landscape to its pristine state.
“What are they going to do with us?” Sam asked, unnerved.
“I haven’t a clue,” Vance told him. “But we’re still alive, and I always count that as a positive sign.”
“Until we’re not, that is,” Chriscanis quipped. “I’m hoping they’re vegans. But with fangs and an anger-management problem like that—”
Vance caught Sam’s terrified expression and shot the cynocephalus a warning glare. Chriscanis instantly quieted. “Sorry, mate,” he whispered to the doctor.
There was a part of Vance that was excited about the journey they were on, despite the circumstances. After all, he was a scientist at heart, and no human had ever laid eyes on a yeti village. Some believed they lived inside a cloud; others theorized that their village was invisible. Vance soon learned that there was truth to both of these notions.
When the yetis led the group through a slender passage between two mountains, they were engulfed in a fog so thick Vance couldn’t see two inches in front of his face.
“It’s like walking through cream of mushroom soup,” Chriscanis observed.
“Dr. Vantana?” Sam said nervously.
“Take my hand, Sam,” the doctor replied. “We’ll be fine.”
The doctor quickly felt Sam’s hand clutch his own. The group finally emerged from the haze to find themselves looking down on a hidden valley. The yeti village wasn’t invisible or in a cloud; it was concealed beneath a canopy of clouds and surrounded on all sides by mountains. From this height, Vance could determine that the village was structured in concentric circles. It reminded him of the bigfoot habitat in Redwood National Park. The two creatures were distant cousins, so the similarities weren’t surprising. In the center of the village was an enormous dome of ice like a massive igloo.
When they reached the valley floor and Vance could get a closer look, he deduced that the circles represented different social levels of the yeti culture. Those on the lower end of the hierarchy occupied the outer rings. These yetis were workers who lived in single-room igloos built closely together. They growled and snarled at the group as they were ushered by. The yetis occupying the inner circles appeared more sophisticated and lived in elaborate ice dwellings with multiple rooms. They stood straighter and didn’t bare their teeth in an aggressive way. On the contrary, they studied their guests in a pensive, inquisitive manner.
The group was led past the center of the camp and beyond the dome. Vance stole a glimpse inside the structure and saw dozens of yetis trading goods and holding meetings, while yeti youth were attending what looked like school classes. Outside that lay a sloping embankment. They were marched to the bottom, where they found a darkened cavern cut off by a large frozen door and vertical bars made of thick stalagmites and stalactites. The doors were opened and the foursome was pushed inside. The doors then shut, and two yetis remained to guard their new prisoners.
“We’ve been arrested by abominable snowmen,” Chriscanis said, incredulously. “If we ever get out of this, it’ll make one heck of a pub story.”
“Despite the look of it, this is not a terrible development. We can rest up and consider our options. Form an escape plan,” Vance explained. He glanced at Sam, who had dropped to the cavern floor, exhausted. “We’ll find a way out of here,” he assured the boy.
At that instant a voice called out from the darkness of the inner cave. It had an older sound to it with a tone that was familiar to Vance. “I was hoping the cavalry was coming to rescue me, not keep me company.” Vance immediately looked toward the origin of the voice.
“Who’s there? Come into the light, where we can see you,” he demanded. A second passed and a figure emerged from the shadows. He was an older man, past seventy, with a gray beard and mustache, kind eyes, and a warm smile. Vance’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Henry?” he said in amazement.
Dr. Henry Knox, the head of the Department of Mythical Wildlife, the author of countless books on mythical beasts, and the man who had disappeared three months ago, nodded.
“Miss me?”