The woman looked up sharply at his words, as if she hadn’t heard English in a long, long time.
The warlock barked at Cassidy, and instantly she bowed her head.
So this was what had become of Dr. Diane Cassidy, expert on the Neetha. She had found the lost tribe and in return they had enslaved her.
The warlock spoke curtly with Cassidy.
Lily listened to their exchange. “He’s calling her ‘the Great Chief’s Eighth Wife.’ He mustn’t trust me. He wants her to translate.”
The warlock spun and gazed angrily at Wizard, speaking harshly and quickly.
Diane Cassidy translated slowly and softly in English:“The great warlock, Yanis, desires to know if you have come here to steal the Pillar of the Neetha?”
“Oh no,” Wizard said. “Not at all. We have come here to beseech you for the use of your Pillar, to borrow it in our quest to save the world from the Dark Star, the one your warlock calls Nepthys.”
Dr. Cassidy translated.
The warlock reeled at the response, shocked beyond measure. When he spoke, he spat.
Cassidy translated:“Yanis says that Nepthys rules as he pleases. Such is his divine right. Who are you to deny Nepthys his will?”
Wizard said, “I am one of a small few who wish to save our world.”
The warlock spat again.
“Yanis says if Nepthys wishes to destroy this world, then that is what Nepthys will do. It is our privilege to be alive when he unleashes his godly power. Yanis will speak with you no more.”
And with that the warlock swirled on the spot and stormed off, taking all of their belongings—including the Firestone, the Philosopher’s Stone, and the First Pillar—with him.
LILY AND THE OTHERS were left to sit on their bare stone platforms for the rest of the evening: waiting, helpless, fearful.
The warlock had retreated to a large fortress-like building to the north of the platforms which backed onto the central lake.
Fitted with dozens of outward-pointing elephant tusks, this temple-fortress was guarded by four white- painted priests bearing spears. A few also wore guns on their hips.
Wizard said, “Warrior-monks. The finest Neetha warriors join the holy class. There they receive special training in fighting and the art of stealth. Hieronymus once said that by the time you discovered a Neetha priest had hunted you down, your throat would already have been cut.”
Throughout the evening, the townsfolk gathered to gawk at the mysterious prisoners, gazing curiously at them as if they were animals in a zoo.
The children eyed Alby with particular curiosity.
“What are they saying?” Alby said, unnerved.
“They’re wondering about your glasses,” Lily said.
The women pointed at Zoe, whispering among themselves. “Because of your cargo pants and short hair, they’re not sure if you’re a woman or a man,” Lily said.
But then some men came and the Neetha women and children scattered, and the atmosphere around the platforms changed.
The men were clearly persons of standing in the tribe and they gathered before Lily and Zoe’s platform, pointing and gesticulating at them like horse traders. Clearly the biggest fellow among them was the leader of the group and the rest his entourage.
“What are they saying?” Wizard asked, concerned.
Lily frowned. “They’re talking about Zoe and me. The big one is saying that he doesn’t want Zoe, since she has most likely already been touched, whatever that means—”
Without warning, the biggest Neetha man shouted at Lily and spoke quickly.
Lily was taken aback. She shook her head and said, “Ew, no.Niha. ”
The cluster of Neetha men instantly fell into a huddle of intense muttering and whispering.
“Lily,” Wizard said. “What did he just ask you?”
“He asked if I had a husband. I said no, of course not.”
“Oh, dear,” Wizard breathed. “I should have anticipated this—”
He was cut off as the big fellow laughed loudly and marched back to the largest house in the village, followed by his entourage.
“What was that about?” Lily asked Zoe.
“I don’t think you want to know,” Zoe said.
Late in the night, sometime long after midnight when all the villagers were sleeping, Lily awoke to see a procession of warrior-monks led by the warlock cross the lake via the drawbridges and, holding flaming torches aloft, head for the large circular maze on the other side.
One of them, Lily saw, carried the Firestone reverently, with outstretched arms. Another carried the Philosopher’s Stone with equal veneration. Behind him, a third warrior-monk carried the First Pillar.
