City of the Yeti Read online

I said nothing, but wandered into the temple chamber to study the carvings. By late afternoon, Rachel found me sitting down, tossing small pebbles across the rock floor. She’d just come from the lookout room.

  “Looks like the fighting’s over,” she said, “and it’s the result you expected.”

  I revisited the telescope and looked through reluctantly. The north gate was open, and human troops were calmly filing in and out. Thankfully, I didn’t see any Hedjet bodies on the ground.

  We ran down the tunnel to the pharmacy, where Nineveh, Malidiya, Mehrgarh, and Lothal were packing medical supplies for the journey to Tibet. We asked for their permission to ride into the city.

  “Those troops are still in shock after their encounter with the Hedjet,” Nineveh said. “They’ll shoot at anything coming out of the forest. You should remain here for now.”

  There was something in Nineveh’s voice besides concern for our safety. Whatever it was, I sensed that he simply wouldn’t let us leave. But I wasn’t giving up so easily. “Just one problem,” I said. “Once those troops fail to find us, they’ll turn to the next obvious place: the forest, and eventually the temple. Everything will be looted.”

  “Those troops won’t need to search further,” Malidiya said. “Tomorrow at dawn, you two will gallop up to the city gate and boast of how you escaped during the battle, took shelter in the forest, and then waited overnight. You will also tell them that there is nothing of interest in the forest.” She turned away to finish packing.

  After we returned to the lookout room, Rachel paced around with clenched fists, muttering through gritted teeth, “We could be there in a few minutes on horseback. There’s just enough daylight left. I’m sure they wouldn’t shoot us. We can’t wait until tomorrow; they might check the forest tonight!”

  I agreed. As much as I wanted to say goodbye to our Sramana friends, it was more important to divert attention from the forest. We had to leave as soon as possible – on our own. Grandpa was somewhere in the library, and I didn’t want to drag him along, given his health. Several horses were tied up at the guardhouse, and all the guards were working in the tunnel, cleaning up the mess from hundreds of animals that had passed through in two massive waves.

  “Let’s go,” I said quietly.

  Rachel stared at her bag. I could tell she wanted to take her belongings, including the Ganesh statue. But if we carried our bags out and were spotted, it would be obvious that we were trying to leave. I tugged her hand, and she followed. At the bottom of the stairs, we encountered a guard, and told him we were headed for the restrooms. He ignored us and stomped down the tunnel carrying two large buckets, clearly unhappy with his current duties.

  We made our way to the large double doors and peeked out into the temple chamber, which was empty. Crouching low, we sprinted across the grass clearing, staying close to the cliff wall. Still, no one was in sight. We crept around to the back of the guardhouse, where the saddled horses were resting. Each of us walked alongside a horse, petting it and murmuring softly as we untied the reins. After jumping into the saddles, we checked for spectators, and saw none. This is too easy, I thought.

  We backed the horses away from the hitching post and approached the road. But just before I could kick-start a gallop, my legs became too weak to move. My head felt like a block of lead, and my eyes turned gritty, as if I hadn’t slept for days. Rachel was rubbing her eyes and slouching. What was happening to us? I struggled to prod my horse forward.

  Then Uruk stepped into view. He was causing the grogginess, but why? We were only trying to stop troops from entering the forest. It didn’t make any sense. All my thoughts clouded together as I lost consciousness. My last memory was of falling off the horse into two strong arms.

  When I awoke, the sun was low on the horizon, and I had a terrible headache. Rachel and I were back in the lookout room, lying on our beds. Why had they kept us here? Were we going to serve as hostages to prevent an assault on the temple itself? Was that their plan all along? My trust in the Deshret had been shaken.

  The elders walked in and towered over us. “I apologize for Uruk’s trance,” Nineveh said. “It seemed the only way to keep you here a bit longer. There is one more important thing for you to know.” He opened the mysterious door at the back of the lookout room and stood beside it. “As I once stated, there’s a way to protect everything here from looters.”

  Malidiya held out both hands, so we could each take one and be led to the door. It wasn’t because we had trouble walking. It was because of what we were about to see. I assumed her gesture was for moral support, so I welcomed it.

  Beyond the door, in a small adjacent room, we found dozens of small wooden barrels, each about a foot high, stacked into a single large pile in the middle of the floor. Nineveh stood near the pile and delivered his speech.

  “We are now directly above the temple chamber, and these barrels are filled with gunpowder. It was all arranged by Dorje during his stay here, over thirty years ago. He used government or army connections to obtain the barrels; I didn’t ask for details. Anyway, if this pile is detonated, then the roof of the temple will collapse, filling the chamber with tons of rock, thus covering the double doors. After a blast here, soldiers at the other end of the tunnel will set off a similar explosion, sealing both ends. Though not a permanent barrier, it will be very difficult to dig through. Dorje assured us that the blast wouldn’t affect any storage rooms, or damage the tunnel itself. He had studied engineering and geology, so we trusted him.”

  I instinctively took a step back. No. Surely there’s a better way. But Nineveh was right. Thick doors and elaborate locks were not enough, not when so much was at stake.

  Malidiya stepped closer, her face grim. Clearly, there was more to be said, if only she could find the words. “Unfortunately, there’s no safe method of detonation, since we have no string fuses. Instead, someone must pour a trail of gunpowder, ignite the end, and run away. In reality, this would require self-sacrifice. The temple guards have accepted this duty; the act would be considered an honor for them.”

  As the sun disappeared, we grudgingly prepared for another night of uncomfortable sleep. Mehrgarh and Lothal offered to escort us to the forest’s edge first thing in the morning. We also had a long talk with Grandpa. He had decided to spend his remaining days with the Sramana, and would ride away with the elders tomorrow.

  “But the treasures – ” I began.

  “Like I said before,” he interrupted, “it will take young, fresh minds to finish the job here.”

  At dawn, I was more excited than I’d been in weeks. Rachel rose quickly too, and we prepared to leave. Others in the room were still asleep.

  I stared out of the window and into the peaceful clearing below. Suddenly, the birds stopped singing. And then – an illusion, an apparition, or reality? Six humans crouched at the edge of the clearing, cautiously studying the scene in front of them. This was obviously a scouting party that had followed the forest road all the way to the temple. I told the elders this would happen! Three members of the party wore Nepalese army uniforms. And despite the dim early light, I recognized the faces of the other three: Narayan, Uncle Colin, and my father.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I wanted to yell from the window, but the scouting party might rush in and see the Deshret before we could explain. Grandpa, Nineveh, Malidiya, Mehrgarh, and Lothal were all asleep in front of me. Below us, somewhere in the tunnel or guardhouse, were Uruk and four guards.

  Seeing my reaction, Rachel tried to look out, but I pulled her back. One final peek showed me that the small party had split up. The three Nepalese soldiers were headed toward the guardhouse, while the rest approached the temple, guns in hand. Uncle Colin held a revolver, while Narayan and Dad each had a rifle.

  We had to intercept them! Rachel and I grabbed our things and ran to the top of the spiral staircase. I paused to look at
Nineveh, who was just waking. He nodded for us to go, having already read my mind about the situation.

  While running down the uneven stone steps, Rachel slipped and fell. She recovered, but sank down onto the final step, grimacing and clutching her ankle. “Go ahead,” she whispered. “It’s not too bad. I’ll wait here.”

  I felt my way along the tunnel wall, but froze when I heard Uncle Colin calling our names. His voice echoed – he was already inside! Apparently the double doors had been left open, but only slightly, since the entryway was quite dark. After a few more steps, I recognized the outlines of Uncle Colin and Narayan; they’d stopped to let their eyes adjust. Dad was still outside.

  Before I could speak, Uruk emerged from the deepest shadows of the tunnel, his bow raised and arrow aimed at Uncle Colin. I quickly focused my thoughts, telling Uruk that these people were my family. It wasn’t working. Uruk pulled the bowstring back further, preparing to release.

  I yelled, “No!” and Uruk hesitated. But my voice only served to startle Uncle Colin, who finally noticed the menacing creature, a mere twenty feet away. Gasping, his reflexes took over and he fired his revolver at Uruk, just as Uruk released the string. The arrow slammed into Uncle Colin’s chest. Two bullets plowed through Uruk’s body, spraying blood across the floor. Both collapsed.

  Narayan had also pointed his weapon at Uruk, but the rifle jammed. He now dropped the gun and pulled out his kukri knife. A Deshret guard, sword raised, ran up from behind the fallen Uruk, and Narayan threw the knife. It went twirling through the air, end over end, and landed squarely in the guard’s stomach; he screamed and fell backward.

  From the stairwell, Mehrgarh next appeared, drawn by the gunfire. He marched toward Narayan, who had no chance against the burly Sramana. Then I spotted the Mongolian bow and arrows Nineveh had given us on the tour. They were propped up against the tunnel wall near me, just where I’d left them almost a week ago. I grabbed the bow, mounted an arrow, and aimed at Mehrgarh, not knowing whether a seven hundred year-old weapon would still function.

  I called out, “Stop!” while focusing all my thoughts on Mehrgarh, just as I’d done so many times during routine conversation. Fortunately, he halted, surprised by my action. I didn’t want to release my arrow, but I would to protect Narayan, who seemed equally amazed to see me holding a bow.

  Another Deshret guard struggled to close the double doors, but a human figure squeezed through, leaving the doors ajar. This man pointed his rifle at the guard, yet didn’t fire, probably because of low visibility.

  Rachel now called my name softly from the bottom of the stairwell. The man who’d just entered replied, “Rachel?” It was my father’s voice.

  As everyone’s eyes continued to adjust, I started talking. I had only seconds to defuse the situation before instincts kicked in and the fighting resumed. “Dad! It’s me! Don’t shoot anyone! These are our friends. They’re not the ones you fought in the city.”

  “Danny?” he said.

  “And Dad – Uncle Colin’s been hurt! He’s in the middle of the hallway.”

  But Dad was distracted by the hulking Mehrgarh, and redirected his rifle. To make matters worse, Lothal burst onto the scene, armed with a bow and arrow.

  “Listen!” I said out loud, also channeling my thoughts to any Sramana nearby. “Everyone needs to lower his weapon. There’s no real threat here.” I waited; no one moved.

  I raised my voice louder. “Did everyone hear me? I’m putting my bow down. Dad, you need to lower your rifle. Narayan, that big guy won’t hurt you – right, Mehrgarh?” Only ten feet from Narayan, Mehrgarh relaxed his stance.

  Lothal still aimed back and forth between Dad, Narayan, and me. I pleaded with Lothal directly, but his arrow remained drawn. There was only so much I could do.

  Dad finally walked toward my voice. He put his rifle on the floor, and we embraced tightly. “Oh my God, son, you are alive!” he said. “I knew it! Where’s Rachel?”

  “Over here,” she called out. I guided Dad to the stairwell. Rachel leapt into his arms and cried.

  Dad fought back tears. “Are you all right, sweetie?”

  “Yes,” she said. “But my ankle hurts a little.”

  A new voice boomed from the top of the stairwell. “James, is that you?” Grandpa said. Dad was overwhelmed. He climbed a few steps, hugged his father, and helped the older man down.

  The others were watching closely, and the family reunion seemed to have the calming effect I’d hoped for. Lothal lowered his bow, and went to stand beside Mehrgarh.

  “James, your brother needs you!” Grandpa reminded Dad.

  Our attention shifted back to the figures lying on the floor. Dad rushed over and knelt beside Uncle Colin, while Lothal and Mehrgarh ran to Uruk’s side. Rachel hobbled out, and with Narayan and Grandpa’s help, we all crossed the floor together. The guards gathered around their comrade, already dead from the kukri knife.

  Uncle Colin grappled with the arrow impaled in his upper right chest. At least he was talking, and recognized Rachel and me. “Hey, you little monkeys, we found you,” he mumbled, straining to lift his head. Looking up further, he spotted Grandpa and stared in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

  Dad examined the wound. “I don’t think the arrow hit anything vital. But I need more light to be sure.”

  I motioned toward the double doors, and a guard opened them fully. As light streamed in, Dad and Narayan got their first good look at the Sramana, and stared in astonishment.

  It was such a long story; how could I summarize everything in one sentence? “These people are the Yeti,” I said. Dad seemed to understand, perhaps from my use of the words people and Yeti in the same breath. Narayan nodded, showing that he believed me, at least for now.

  “Dad, can you also check Uruk?” Rachel asked.

  At first our father didn’t know what she meant, so I pointed. When he delayed, I added, “Uruk saved our lives twice while we were here.”

  Dad approached Uruk cautiously, and then struggled to assess the injuries. “These bullet wounds look serious – both in the abdomen. But I don’t really understand the anatomy of this…”

  “They’re called Sramana,” I said. “They’re a different race, that’s all.”

  “Well, we need to get both of them outside. It’s still too dark in here,” he replied.

  Then I heard a pop. Had a Nepalese soldier shot at the guards? I rushed out through the double doors and into the clearing. Narayan yelled, “Danny, wait!”

  The three Nepalese soldiers were standing upright like statues. The guards had stopped them using their mental powers, but not before one soldier fired a flare gun into the air. A brilliant ball of yellow light arced high overhead.

  Narayan ran up next to me. “That will signal our troops. We were going to use it only if we met resistance.” He pulled out a pocket watch and shook his head. “We’ve got maybe half an hour before a regiment arrives.”

  An uneasy truce settled upon the strange mix of Sramana and humans, as everyone focused on the injured warriors. The wooden planks we’d slept on were brought down and used as stretchers to move Uncle Colin and Uruk into the temple chamber, which provided adequate light but still some shade. Dad tended to both, using a medical satchel he’d brought along, while I gave a brief account of our stay here.

  The elders hovered at the back of the chamber, uncertain of what to do. I pointed them out. “Dad, those two are the king and queen of the city, when it was a Deshret city, before the Hedjet took over and fought the humans.”

  Dad stared at me. “Hey, we’re humans. Deshret? Hedjet? There’s a lot I don’t understand, son.”

  Rachel stepped forward, pointing to the tunnel. “Dad, there’s amazing stuff inside. Treasures you wouldn’t believe. Grandpa’s already been here for months studying it. Danny and I were chosen to protect everyth
ing in the future.”

  “All these Sramana need to head down the tunnel now,” I said, “before the troops arrive.”

  Dad sighed and showed his trustful expression. “Do whatever you think best. You know the situation better than me.” He went back to work on Uncle Colin, but continued casting nervous glances all around.

  When Rachel and I approached the elders, Malidiya said, “This isn’t exactly how we wanted things to end, but at least you two are back with your father.”

  We looked over at the Nepalese soldiers, now lying on the ground. “They won’t remember a thing,” she added.

  Grandpa walked up and said, “It might be best if Colin doesn’t remember anything, either. He might take revenge later. This is the second time a Sramana has gotten the better of him.”

  “I can erase today’s event,” Malidiya replied. She walked over to Uncle Colin, who was asleep. Dad and Narayan jumped up in a defensive posture.

  “Don’t worry!” Grandpa yelled. “She’s going to remove the memory of what just happened. Otherwise it will bother him for a long time. Of course, we’ll have to make up some crazy story about his wound, and tell him later.”

  Malidiya knelt down and placed her palms gently on each side of Uncle Colin’s head. She closed her eyes and meditated for a minute, then stood and said, “Done. Who’s next?” She stared down at Dad and Narayan.

  “Your secret is safe with me,” Narayan said, his voice quivering slightly.

  “Doctors keep many secrets,” Dad stated, in a more confident tone.

  Rachel and I accompanied the elders back to the tunnel entrance, where I raised more urgent matters. “Narayan says a regiment of soldiers is coming. What should we do?”

  “It appears that our emergency plan will be necessary after all,” Nineveh said, giving his longest sigh ever.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Three Sramana guards gathered and argued over which one of them would have the honor of dying while setting off the blast. A faint voice rose from the side of the temple chamber. “I’ll do it,” Uruk said. He’d been wrapped in bandages to stop his bleeding and propped up against the rock wall. We’d almost forgotten about him. “I’m not going to live, anyway. I can tell. Take me to the lookout room.”