CHAPTER XXI
Hanna awoke to the sound of the heavy bedroom door. Still half asleep, she saw Joseph enter, accompanied by Miss Hings, who was carrying a bowl of hot soup.
“What’s going on?! Where am I?” she asked, confused, unable to make sense of her surroundings as she hurriedly sat up on her little cot, visibly agitated.
“Here, eat every last drop. You must be starving,” Miss Hings said, somewhat surprised by her pupil’s reaction.
Hanna set the bowl on the bedside table, incredulous, and looked around. Then she paced the room a couple of times and peered through a window opposite her.
“It can’t be,” she kept repeating, bitterly disappointed at the thought that everything she believed she had experienced had only been a dream. “It was so real…” she added thoughtfully, looking at her friend.
A small tear began to escape from her eyes.
“Don’t be sad. I’ve spoken to Mrs. Rowell, and she’s lifted your punishment,” Joseph said, seeing his friend’s condition as she wandered from one side of the room to the other, as though completely lost.
Hanna felt her neck, then went back to the bedside table. She examined her little blanket carefully and searched for her pendant, but it was gone.
“Get changed quickly! We’re going to the museum!” Joseph exclaimed.
“Did you take my pendant?” Hanna asked, her face fallen and pale.
Joseph’s expression changed. He hesitated, even grew a little nervous. His friend seemed terribly serious, strange—stranger than he had ever seen her.
“Yes, but don’t worry. I’ll give it back to you when we get home. It was supposed to be a surprise…” he whispered, disappointed.
Hanna said nothing more. She had already lived through this situation. It was difficult to believe, but there could be no doubt. Nor could there be any doubt about what filled her thoughts: Gunuruk, Antraka, Bauros, the Bábagos, the secrets that seemed to have accompanied her for so long.
“It can’t be,” she repeated as she changed her clothes and searched her leg for the scar she had acquired when she arrived in that strange world.
But… there was nothing.
“Perhaps you’d better stay here and rest,” Miss Hings suggested, seeing the sorry state of her pupil. It was enough to make her question the girl’s sanity.
“No!” Hanna exclaimed. “I need to go.”
“Very well, but you’ll have to change that expression, or you’ll frighten the rest of your classmates.”
Hanna went to the bathroom and washed her face, trying to stop crying. Why was she there? That was what she had wanted, wasn’t it? To return to St. James, to her home. Or perhaps not. Perhaps she was simply afraid to accept what, only moments earlier, she had believed was reality.
As she looked at herself in the mirror and dried her face, her tears finally stopped. She took a deep breath and tried to accept that everything she had felt, however difficult it seemed, had only been a dream. A little calmer—or rather, resigned—she rejoined her friend and the teacher.
“Are you feeling better?” Joseph asked worriedly, saddened by the sight of her red, swollen eyes.
“Yes. I don’t know what happened to me. I had a nightmare… a very strange dream. It seemed so real.”
A little later, Hanna was aboard the bus heading toward the city center. She and Joseph settled into the front seats, but contrary to what she had expected, her friend did not say a word. Sometimes he looked at her, a little frightened, but remained utterly silent.
As the bus pulled away, Hanna once again remembered the Known World, that world and its beings, Gunuk…
“Gunuk!” she exclaimed, realizing she would soon see him, that this, at least, would be real.
The bus did not take long to arrive. Hanna expected to find a great commotion outside the museum, but barely half a dozen people were waiting in line at its doors. There were no journalists, no police officers. Nothing at all.
Miss Hings got off first, and a minute later Hanna, Joseph, and all their classmates entered the building in impeccable order.
“Where’s Gunuk?!” Hanna exclaimed once inside, bewildered to see that the great hall looked exactly as it always had. Where the glass case containing the Snork should have stood, there was only a dinosaur skeleton.
“Who’s Gunuk?” Miss Hings asked curiously, for she was standing beside her. “We’ve come to see the Tyrannosaurus rex! The greatest predator ever to inhabit this world!” she continued excitedly.
“No! It can’t be. And the eclipse? What about the eclipse?” Hanna interrupted again, as though possessed.
“There is no eclipse! You’d better wait for us on the bus!” the teacher exclaimed angrily, thoroughly tired of her behavior.
Hanna ran out of the museum in tears, looking around helplessly. She did not know what to do or where to go. Why was this happening to her?
Throughout the time she believed she had been wandering through the Known World, all she had wanted was to return home. But now… now all she could think about was going back there.
She ran and ran toward North Park, dazed, longing to find the crowd that had been waiting for the eclipse. But there was no one there. Not a soul.
Unable to accept what her eyes saw and her ears heard, she looked toward the hill and decided to climb to its summit.
She had to find Gunuk’s dagger. That would prove she was not mad.
After a desperate climb, she reached the top, but no matter how hard she searched, she found nothing.
The sun beat down fiercely, so fiercely that Hanna was drenched in sweat, hungry and exhausted, thinking that perhaps she ought to accept that it had all been a dream.
Then, weeping bitterly for having lost what she might always have dreamed of possessing, she began to descend.
“Hanna!”
The voice sounded faintly in the distance, subtle, as though carried on the air.
She looked around, above and below, at the rocks, the trees, even the sun. But she saw nothing.
Finally, she sat down to wipe away her sweat and catch her breath, feeling as though her sanity were slipping away.
“Hanna!”
The voice echoed across the entire hillside again, this time much louder, while she felt something sticky sliding over her face.
And at last she woke up.
Suddenly!
She was lying in a bed with a damp cloth on her forehead. Kron was licking her cheek incessantly, whimpering with concern. Gunuruk’s head appeared directly in front of hers.
“Wake up! A nightmare you are having,” the Snork said, trying at the same time to make Kron leave her alone.
Hanna looked at him with a smile and took his little hand. Then she closed her eyes, feeling his touch, and a wave of happiness swept through her entire body.
She was back in Argon.
Nothing could have shown her more clearly than that dream that being there was what she truly wanted.
Or was it?
Something deep within her had spoken, yet uncertainty was already returning. Being in that place meant so many things, important things. At last she had answers, but she was still incapable of accepting them as her own.
“Rest. A little longer you must rest. Soon for Yrandia we leave. Near it is, our destination, our final destination.”
Hanna obeyed Gunuruk and, her expression growing more serious, tried to calm herself. She alone had to find her inner peace. It was difficult, something that would take time, but she needed to find calm, tranquility, to free herself from her doubts. Much to her sorrow, however, that still seemed impossible.
And so, filled with anguish, she closed her eyes. Unable to fall asleep, she listened to the two Snorks talking only a few yards away.
“Bauros again! That old fisherman always seems to be where needed he is,” Ynack said in surprise as Gunuruk settled beside her again to resume their conversation, for he had been recounting his adventures in great detail.
“Yes, little time I needed to recognize him. Of Gunuk he spoke, with pride, but his secret he kept, always kept, even when Tuarkkett’s pendant he saw. A good man he is. Certainly not one to keep quiet!”
The two Snorks laughed.
“But a good heart he carries. Soon he will be able to tell how the princess herself three times he saved,” Gunuruk continued as Ynack nodded.
Hanna missed none of their words. She remembered the old fisherman, understanding now what she had failed to understand at the time, and felt proud. Yet deep down, she was still unable to accept what she was: a princess, though of a dreadful world.
“Vendemur to Yrandia will also travel. With him she must speak. Only he can bring forth what lies within her spirit. Her destiny soon approaches,” Ynack said, changing the subject.
“But strange she is. She seems not to understand, not to want to understand.”
“Vendemur already said so. That is why from her we concealed it. Difficult it is, very difficult. Had she learned sooner, perhaps the journey she would not have made. She must believe, feel, look within herself. Her fear is natural.”
Koyan entered through the door.
“We must leave,” he said, accompanied by a Níbula that soon approached Hanna.
“How are you?” it asked in its peculiar voice, fluttering above her face and stirring a gentle breeze.
“Better… I feel better now,” she replied, sitting up and smiling, smiling at everyone gathered in the room.
“That’s wonderful news,” Koyan added. “Dawn will soon be upon us. Let us take advantage of the darkness to leave. The Níbulas will guide us.”
Everyone prepared to depart, and soon they left the cottage.
Hanna walked beside Kron, stroking him, and when she stepped outside, she found many beings waiting for her. Word seemed to have spread, and it appeared that all the inhabitants of Argon had come out to say goodbye.
There were countless Mibuks, Delfos, and Níbulas, a couple of giants, even a dwarf or two, along with other beings she had yet to encounter.
“It’s her!” they whispered.
“She has her mother’s beauty!” others said.
“Good luck, Princess!” they called as she rode away once more beside Koyan, disappearing into the darkness.
Hanna could hardly believe it—or perhaps she did not want to believe it. Once again, it all seemed like a dream. She, the abandoned girl, had become the central figure in that extraordinary adventure, the princess of that world.
It was incredible, so incredible that her heart seemed to tighten at the sound of those words.
She did not want to disappoint them. She felt weak and frightened, nothing like what they expected of her, nothing like what one might expect of a true queen.
At first, many Níbulas accompanied them, but once they left Argon behind, only two continued with the group.
No one spoke. Everyone seemed focused on the path.
It was not an easy trail. It was riddled with traps. Sometimes they had to dismount and squeeze between rocks or leap over fallen tree trunks that straightened themselves again once they had passed.
They even waded across a rushing river that, incredible as it seemed, was only a few inches deep.
And so, as dawn arrived, they found themselves at the very foot of Yrandia.
It was not yet visible, but it lay above them, nestled on a small plateau that merged with the dense forest.
After climbing a hill and stopping beside a great waterfall plunging from several yards above, the Níbulas came to a halt.
“You must pass through it carefully. Yrandia is on the other side. We shall wait for you there,” they said, and without another word, disappeared.
Koyan looked at his intrigued companions and prepared to cross. He had been there before, so he did not hesitate to do as they had instructed.
Keeping close to the rock wall, he urged his horse forward. The animal, seemingly unable to believe what it was being asked to do, hesitated to obey.
But after a couple of uncertain steps, Koyan and Hanna disappeared into the furious curtain of falling water.
It was easy. Surprisingly easy.
Ómmenork followed with Ynack, and finally Nakian crossed with Gunuruk, followed by Kron, who had stopped to drink.
“It’s incredible!” Hanna exclaimed when she saw the enormous cavern stretching beside them, behind the water that continued thundering down.
“Come on! We’re almost there!” Koyan called, already advancing through the immense cave.
The horses’ hooves echoed through the vast tunnel. The dark passage climbed upward, twisting from side to side until at last a faint light appeared ahead.
The end was near.
And when they finally emerged, none of them could help marveling at what lay before their eyes.
It was Yrandia, the lost kingdom of the Dark Forest, a place only the chosen could enter. A land of wisdom, protected, where evil had never reached.
Yrandia was beautiful. There was no doubt about it. It possessed a special, magical beauty, as though it had been created to welcome the spirits of all the beings who lived there.
A pleasant calm filled the air. Its sounds, its fragrances, the gentle breeze that carried them—everything was idyllic, and Hanna felt it immediately.
Her thoughts seemed clearer, but in her case that clarity filled her with profound fear.
From where they stood, they could not see the whole kingdom. It was enormous.
Many great trees grew throughout it, yet despite their abundance, light flooded every inch of the land. A fine carpet of grass covered the ground, dotted with countless colorful flowers and plants that filled the air with intoxicating fragrances.
Paths of every size wound here and there, connecting the many buildings visible from their vantage point. Some were made of wood, others of stone.
But far away, in the center, surrounded by a great lake, stood what was undoubtedly the most beautiful building of all.
It resembled an enormous castle, with tall towers gleaming in the sunlight.
For a minute, the group simply admired the magnificent view.
Then they continued forward.
Once they had moved away from the cavern and finally dismounted, an enormous climbing vine covered in sharp thorns sealed the entrance once more.
Hanna stood astonished by the extraordinary sight. Without taking her eyes off it, she watched the mysterious plant form an impregnable wall around all of Yrandia.
Then the two Níbulas that had accompanied them along the way appeared again.
Or perhaps they were different ones, for they all looked identical.
“This is Yrandia, kingdom of the Níbulas and Delfos, kingdom of all who wish to cultivate their spirit, their soul, kingdom of wisdom…” one of them said to the entire group, though it was undoubtedly looking at Hanna.
Ynack and Koyan smiled. They had been there before, but even so, they enjoyed watching their companions gaze around with the curiosity of children.
“Incredible,” they murmured as they made their way toward Kalamnia, the palace named in honor of the vanished kingdom of Kalam.
Many beings moved from one place to another. The Delfos and Níbulas darted about restlessly, in a hurry, while the Mibuks walked slowly, very slowly.
Almost all carried books or scrolls. Others sat on benches or beneath the shade of trees, reading or writing. Still others appeared to be drawing.
They also saw dwarves, both male and female, and humans, though not many. There were even other beings Hanna did not recognize. She watched them in surprise but asked no questions and said absolutely nothing.
No one spoke. As they approached the palace, all they did was contemplate that majestic Olympus.
“Kalamnia!” one of the Níbulas exclaimed, approaching Hanna as they crossed the lake over an immense bridge leading to the palace’s colossal entrance.
“From now on, this will be your home,” it added.
Those words filled Hanna with pride, but once again fear seemed to rise within her.
“It’s… it’s too much for me,” she said in a trembling voice as everyone looked at her. “I can’t lie to you. I’m afraid. Too afraid, perhaps, for what you need from me. I still don’t know who I am, what you expect me to be, or what you’ll ask me to do. All I feel is terror… I’ll disappoint you. I know I will,” she added through her tears, unable to restrain herself.
“From within you comes more strength than I have ever felt, and there is much more you have yet to discover,” said a Níbula, illuminating her face as it hovered directly before her and then placed its tiny hand upon her chest.
“I can see it. I can feel it. Your fear is good. Never forget that. It is part of your spirit. Perhaps fear is all you can feel now, but beneath it you will find what makes you great, for great you are. Always remember that. Do not fear your fear. Feel it, understand it, and let what lies within you guide you.”
“We’re all afraid!” Ómmenork shouted, trying to encourage her.
And he certainly succeeded, for with his powerful voice and enormous body, it seemed difficult to believe him.
Everyone smiled, even Hanna.
“Who wouldn’t be, in this world?” Koyan added.
“Yes! Everyone feels fear, but hope too. You must seek it,” Gunuruk said with his peculiar smile.
“I’ve never stopped looking for it,” Hanna whispered as they continued forward.
She looked at her companions, grateful for everything they had done for her.
Once inside, they continued marveling at the beauty of the magnificent building, its walls, its corridors, the light that filled everything with a special radiance.
Everything seemed to have its place.
At last they reached the central courtyard, filled with statues, gardens, and fountains.
“Come with me, Hanna,” Ynack said. “Change your clothes you must, and eat. Gunuruk! Rest you deserve as well.”
She was already climbing to the upper floor.
Neither hesitated to follow her, not even Kron, who needed no invitation, for he refused to leave his beloved mistress.
“Is that Oddeon?” Hanna asked, stopping before an enormous tapestry depicting the body of a warrior in remarkable detail.
“Yes. How do you know?” Ynack asked in surprise.
“I don’t know. I just thought it might be him,” she replied, gazing into his eyes.
Never before had she seen a look like that.
“Let us go on. Vendemur soon will arrive. Ready you must be.”
Hanna nodded.
She did not quite understand the purpose of his visit, for she believed she already knew everything she needed to know. Yet deep down, she eagerly awaited his arrival.
The Nárako fascinated her. She could not stop thinking about the stories Bauros had told her about him, about that world.
After climbing another floor, Hanna finally reached her room.
It was enormous, with large windows overlooking the entire northern part of Yrandia and even beyond. It almost seemed possible to glimpse the ocean if she looked hard enough.
Kron approached the windows, and Hanna immediately opened them, revealing a beautiful terrace projecting from the palace façade.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, breathing deeply and trying to believe what was happening to her.
Kron barked as though agreeing, and she embraced him.
As she prepared to wash, beside a lovely bathtub that seemed to be made of mother-of-pearl, she continued studying the room.
There were paintings, tapestries, and many rugs, along with mirrors and lamps holding countless candles, and a beautiful bed upon which a splendid outfit had been laid out.
Hanna was delighted to see trousers and boots, for she would not have expected anything else.
Then, after undressing, she slipped into the bathtub. When she raised her head above the water, a thin layer of soap spread across its surface.
The water felt wonderful, not very hot, rather cool, but undoubtedly relaxing.
She spent several minutes there, trying not to think about anything, thoroughly washing her hair after weeks of neglect.
Hanna dressed and, without wasting any time, returned to the terrace while brushing her hair with a delicate brush.
“No, Kron!” she exclaimed when she realized that her companion, apparently unwilling to waste the bathwater, had leaped into the tub, splashing wildly and soaking everything around him.
“Everything all right?!” a voice called through the door.
“Yes!” Hanna answered nervously as she shut Kron out on the terrace. “Come in, Gunuruk!” she added, recognizing her friend’s voice.
The Snork was surprised when he entered and saw Hanna.
She looked beautiful, more beautiful than ever, with her magnificent hair and her new clothes, which seemed to have been made especially for her.
“What happened?” he asked a moment later, no less surprised to see that everything was rather wet, as though a small storm had swept through the room.
“Kron wanted a bath too,” Hanna answered.
Then they both laughed as they watched the friendly dog barking and pawing at the window, trying to get back inside.
“Have you ever seen Vendemur?” Hanna asked curiously.
“Never seen him, though soon we shall meet,” the Snork replied as he opened the windows.
Kron thanked him with a barrage of licks, making Hanna smile.
“Stop! Stop!” Gunuruk exclaimed at the affectionate gesture, though the excited animal was reluctant to obey.
They went out onto the terrace afterward, although they did not speak much.
Gunuruk seemed happy as he gazed at the landscape, breathing deeply, contented.
But Hanna had not yet found that peace.
Even now, she wondered whether she should tell her friend about the tragic end of his father. Gunuruk seemed to have accepted his death, although hearing the truth would be a bitter blow.
Something inside her told her to wait.
Suddenly, a great shadow passed overhead, so enormous that for a moment it blotted out the sun.
They could not help being frightened.
“It’s a Tuark!” Gunuruk exclaimed anxiously. “White?” he added in astonishment.
Hanna’s heart began to pound, even more so when the creature descended a little, circled around, and headed straight toward them.
“What do we do?!” she cried in terror, frozen in place, although Gunuruk was now smiling broadly.
“Vendemur,” he whispered.
The Tuark was already before them, screeching incessantly as it descended.
And indeed, Vendemur was riding that extraordinary creature.
There was only one white Tuark in that world. Only one had ever existed, and only one had belonged to the Nárako.
At last the Tuark landed near the bridge, in a clearing free of vegetation that lay before the crossing.
Without delay, the one who had been their guide dismounted.
He was completely covered and carried something resembling a staff.
With purposeful steps, watched by Hanna and Gunuruk, he crossed the bridge and advanced toward Kalamnia until they could no longer see him.
“Gunuruk! You must come!” Ynack exclaimed nervously as she appeared in the doorway. “Quickly! You wait here, Hanna. Wait.”
The Snork left, somewhat disappointed, and closed the door behind him.
Hanna grew terribly nervous.
Vendemur’s arrival was imminent, and although she had not yet met him, his spectacular entrance told her that he was undoubtedly an exceptional being.
She already knew something about him, enough to attribute powers to him beyond any rational explanation.
But what worried her most was how he would receive her situation, her uncertainty, her irresistible desire not to be the central figure in that story.
A couple of minutes later, heavy footsteps began echoing through the corridor, and Hanna grew even more nervous, her heart nearly bursting from her chest.
Suddenly, a shadow stopped outside her room.
After a few seemingly endless seconds, the door opened, and the Nárako appeared.
Hanna stood petrified.
She was not entirely sure what she had expected to find, but when at last he stood before her, she felt herself grow calmer.
He was wrapped in a great robe, and as soon as he faced her, he uncovered his face.
He looked human, an old man with long hair and a beard, a calm, serene expression, and familiar eyes.
He was enormously built, and although it could not be seen at first glance, an aura of energy surrounded him.
Hanna sensed it immediately, and that force, unmistakably positive, helped her relax.
Kron approached him as though drawn by an irresistible attraction. After sitting beside him with a strangely entranced look, the dog allowed the Nárako to stroke his head.
Every detail filled Hanna with a sense of peace and trust.
And they did not need to speak much for her to understand the reason for their meeting.
Vendemur had come looking for something…
Something that had yet to emerge within her.