He saw his sister struggling with a flurry of white. Fitri’s torch had fallen and rolled down the mountain road and was now moving back and forth, throwing a bizarre beam of light on the gurgling stream. The man had a white turban around his head, a long drooping moustache, and hard eyes. “Agus, run!” Fitri yelled. “I wouldn’t do that, Agus,” the man in white snarled. Agus saw a flash of metal in the man’s other hand. He had one arm around Fitri and was holding a knife in the other. “Stop struggling,” the man hissed at her, raising the knife menacingly. Fitri stopped immediately. Even if he had wanted to run, Agus couldn’t have. His legs seemed to have stopped working and he stood rooted to the spot. “Now, listen, both of you, and listen well,” Taufan said. “I have come a long, long way to find the treasure. I need you to go inside that cave and take out everything you have found.” “Agus, don’t do that!” Fitri spoke out. Agus, keeping his eyes firmly on the knife, managed to stutter, “Who...
