by Jake Halpern
Everyone nodded.
They followed Hill into the tunnel. It soon ended and they entered a vast expanse. They were aware of space stretching out in all directions, and at first it was unclear where the floor ended and the open space began. Alfonso looked up and at first saw nothing. He waited, and after a few seconds, the whole picture snapped into focus. They were standing on a cobblestone road, about fifteen feet wide, carved into the side of a sheer cliff. Along the outside edge of the road ran a knee-high wall, also made up of cobblestones. It protected the group from a breathtaking chasm that dropped downward into the depths of the earth. The far wall of the chasm was the mirror image of their side minus the road. Above them, the walls of the chasm stretched away from each other, much like the sides of a V, which gave the entire area an astonishingly open perspective. There was no ceiling or roof visible—just gaping blackness above. Alfonso had never been to the Grand Canyon, but he imagined that the scale was probably similar, and he had to remind himself that he was still underground.
All of them spent the next few minutes staring at the Fault Road and the chasm in dumbstruck amazement.
"I don't understand," said Resuza at last. "Why are we able to see?" Alfonso looked around and realized she was right. The light appeared to be coming from the chasm itself. Alfonso peered over the edge and noticed a faint red glow at the bottom. Alfonso felt a pebble under his shoe, picked it up, and threw it over the edge. They all listened in silence, waiting for the sound of the pebble landing. Nothing. The pebble just fell, and fell, and fell—deep into the fiery bowels of the earth.
"No one knows how deep it is," whispered Hill. "Some say whatever's thrown into the chasm keeps going until it reaches the middle of the earth and burns up."
"Which way do we go on this road?" asked Resuza very quietly.
"I don't think we have a choice," whispered Alfonso.
To the left, the road slanted downward, deeper into the earth. To the right, the road climbed upward, back toward Somnos and the surface. The only problem was that the road to the right only stretched for a hundred yards before it tapered off into empty space. Clearly, perhaps long ago, someone had destroyed this road, making it impossible to reach the surface and Somnos.
"Looks like we ain't gonna be surfacin' anytime soon," whispered Bilblox.
The road to the left was passable. Hill said it probably led to the Hub, where the Fault Roads from all eleven cities once converged. This was where the Jasber Gate was located as well.
"What now?" asked Resuza.
"I say we head for the Hub," said Hill. "Either we'll find a way to the surface there or we'll stumble across Josephus and Kiril."
He looked at Resuza's quizzical expression and continued defensively. "I don't see any other options. We can't just wait around in that old mining tunnel up above because sooner or later there's bound to be another cave-in, and we'll all be crushed. And if that didn't kill us, the lack of food, water, and oxygen would. We have to press on to the Hub."
Bilblox nodded with a sudden determination. "All right," he said. "'N' what happens if we meet a zwodszay?"
"We run and then, if necessary, fight," said Hill. "Unfortunately, I don't know anything about them."
"I do," said Resuza. "Misty told me about them once before. Supposedly they were humans once, but you wouldn't know it, because they've been down here for centuries—eating only bats and moldy algae. Somehow, by mistake, they entered the Fault Roads, and they've never been able to leave. Although they've adapted to life underground, they haven't lost the taste for freshly butchered meat, like lamb sizzling over a fire. So they turn to the only meat they have left: themselves, and any other unlucky souls who stumble down here."
"It just gets better 'n' better," said Bilblox with a grimace.
Moments later, Bilblox put his arm around Alfonso. "Come on," he said. "Let's go find your dad."
CHAPTER 22
THE FAULT ROAD
DURING THE FIRST HOURS along the Fault Road, the travelers spoke very little to one another and spent much of their time looking around, spellbound by the incredible distances above and below them. The road had obviously fallen into disrepair, but it was still apparent that it had once been the transportation route for a very wealthy kingdom. Every several hundred feet, solid gold markers were embedded in the wall. In addition to this, Alfonso occasionally noticed diamond-encrusted murals depicting feats from the annals of Dormian history—generals with their swords in hand, Great Sleepers arriving, and new Founding Trees being planted. At the foot of one of these murals, Hill discovered an elegant fountain pen lying on the floor. It was in perfect condition and the ink on the stylus was still wet.
"What do ya make of it?" whispered Bilblox.
"It must belong to Josephus," replied Hill. "They can't be more than a day ahead of us, if that."
The traveling party pressed ahead into the darkness. As the hours wore on, Alfonso found himself straining to hear any out-of-the-ordinary sounds. At times, he thought he heard scampering noises, like those from rats, but he never saw anything. Being deep underground, they had no sense of day and night. Out of habit, Hill occasionally glanced at his old watch issued by the U.S. Air Force, but without any trace of night and day, the numbers and movement of the hands meant nothing.
At one point, Alfonso definitely heard something scurrying just behind them. It was the scampering noise again, but somehow it sounded ... heavier. Kõrgu growled and turned to face whatever was behind them. Her fur bristled. Alfonso looked at Resuza, who was staring intently for any sign of movement. Her Enfield rifle lay at the ready in her arms.
"They haven't made up their minds yet," she remarked in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Who?"
"The zwodszay," she replied. "I think they picked us up a few hours ago. They're somewhere above us, on the rocks. It's that noise you hear once in a while. There are only two or three of them right now."
"Why can't we see them?" Alfonso asked.
"I think they're biding their time," said Resuza very quietly.
"I don't understand," whispered Bilblox. "If they found us, why ain't they attackin'?"
"Because they're pack hunters," replied Resuza. "They won't attack until they're sure that they can overwhelm us."
On the first night, they set up camp at a wide bend in the road, which allowed them to see in both directions for quite some distance. It was a relatively easy place to defend and Hill liked the spot for this reason. Hill and Bilblox moved some old stones into the middle of the road, creating a small defensive wall that they could crouch behind during an attack. At this part of the Fault Road, the light was also fairly strong. It appeared as if the fiery red glow at the bottom of the fault was getting brighter.
While Hill and Bilblox finished building their fortifications, Alfonso and Resuza worked together to pitch two canvas tents. It seemed odd to Alfonso to be camping out in the middle of what was once a busy thoroughfare. But, of course, no one had used this road for centuries. Once the tents were up, Hill insisted that everyone apply a fresh dose of the skelter sap.
After covering himself in sap, Bilblox sank to the ground and sighed heavily. He looked uncharacteristically weary and he massaged his forehead with his fingers as if he was in a great deal of pain. Apparently, his headaches had returned.
"Are you all right?" asked Alfonso.
"Don't worry about me," said Bilblox with a forced smile. "I just need a good night's rest."
"We've all got to sleep," said Hill. "We'll take turns standing watch so we don't get ambushed. We'll do hour-long watches. I'll go first."
"I'll sit with you for a while," said Alfonso.
Hill nodded appreciatively.
The two of them gathered up some old planks of wood that they had found by the side of the road. They built a small fire and once it had burned down a bit, they put a kettle on the coals and brewed some mint tea they had found in one of Misty's packs. They sat there cradling their warm tin cups and talked in low
, hushed tones.
"The fire ought to help keep those beasts away," said Hill. "I wouldn't mind some more of that beef jerky, but I think we ought to conserve our supplies."
Alfonso stared pensively at the fire. After a long pause, Hill spoke up.
"What are you thinking about?" asked Hill.
"Lots of things," Alfonso replied. "I'm wondering about Misty, and what happened to her." He looked at Hill. "I was also thinking how funny you used to be. You used to make me laugh a lot. Do you still do those crazy things when you're asleep—like make big meals in the middle of the night? I guess it's not that crazy, now that you live in Somnos. Everybody must do those kinds of things."
Hill chuckled. He stretched out his legs and looked at the fire a bit wistfully. "Sleeping is when I do my best work on the house," he replied. "I don't cook as much, but my sleeping-self has a knack for mechanical things. Do you know that I'm sleep-building an elevator in the house? It'll be the first one ever in Somnos! I guess that's what happens when you've got a bit of money and your sleeping-self has a fix-it personality."
He sighed. "Sometimes, I have to admit, I miss my old life—living as a bachelor in Chicago, fixing watches, and sleep-riding around the city on my motorcycle. Being a foreign minister can certainly be wearisome. But lately, since your arrival, I've been feeling better. I've been more energized."
"Why's that?" asked Alfonso.
"Because I thought my brother was dead," replied Hill. "And now, for the first time in decades, I have a hope that he's alive. My goodness, I haven't seen Leif since he was younger than you are. Funny, isn't it, that both of you are Great Sleepers and I'm not?"
"That reminds me," said Alfonso as he stood up and grabbed his pack. "I found a book in Josephus's secret room. I think it's about the Great Sleepers of Jasber."
He rummaged through his pack and came across the rosewood box. For a moment, he was sorely tempted to take it out and tell Hill about the secret antechamber that the box allowed him to enter. But then Alfonso recalled the warning that he'd found inside the antechamber; and so he put it aside and took out the book.
Together, Alfonso and Hill flipped through the pages. The only picture in the book was a full page, hand-drawn rendering of a snow-covered cottage at the beginning of chapter 12, titled "La maisonette au centre du labyrinth."
They studied the text below it carefully. Each page of the book was divided in half. The upper half was written in Dormian hieroglyphs and the lower half was written in French. Hill could read Dormian hieroglyphs, but not very well, so Alfonso read the French text and translated it into English for his uncle:
CHAPTER XII:
THE COTTAGE AT THE CENTER
OF THE LABYRINTH
During the time known in the outside world as "The Iron Age," which began around the Dormian year 2100 (or 800 B.C.), the city of Jasber went through a period of great turmoil. Rumors spread throughout Central Asia that the legendary seers of Jasber possessed strange tools to predict all manner of things to come. For example, they predicted that in the Dormian year 2247 (or 653 B.C.) Yezdegird III, the last king of the Sasanian dynasty of Persia, would be murdered. This information was leaked to the outside world by a wanderer from Jasber and the prophecy turned out to be true. Incidents like this encouraged many attempts to find the magical city of Jasber.
Not surprisingly, the leaders of Jasber became afraid. They worried that outsiders would discover one of the two secret gates that led into their city. One gate was known as the Great Sleeper's Gate and it was used exclusively by Great Sleepers bearing Dormian blooms. The other was known as the City Gate and it was used by wanderers, soldiers, and dignitaries who, from time to time, had reason to venture into the outside world.
In order to better protect themselves, the Jasberians surrounded the two entrances to their city with a vast labyrinth, or maze. To create this maze, they employed a rare plant indigenous to the swampy valleys of the Urals known as razor hedge. When planted in the vicinity of the Jasber Founding Tree, this fast-growing plant began to change in incredible ways: it grew to more than one hundred feet in height, and its branches sprouted long thorns that could easily pierce armor. The razor hedges became impenetrable and unclimbable.
For the Jasberians, the only problem with this maze was that it made matters quite difficult for Great Sleepers who were trying to deliver a Dormian bloom to Jasber. A good number of these Great Sleepers entered the maze, got lost, and failed to deliver their plants. A solution was needed. Eventually, the leaders of Jasber handpicked a group of the city's most able-bodied young men and women and declared that they would be "labyrinth sweepers" with two basic responsibilities. First, they were charged with maintaining the labyrinth, which meant trimming the razor hedges with a special tool known as a khopesh, which is a combination of a sword and a sickle. Second, and more important, the labyrinth sweepers were responsible for searching the labyrinth and finding anyone who had wandered into the maze and become lost. Intruders who weren't Great Sleepers were expelled. Great Sleepers, on the other hand, were escorted immediately to Jasber via the only gate that remained, the City Gate.
You may ask: what happened to the Great Sleeper's Gate? It was closed forever in the name of tightening security—after all, one gate is easier to defend than two.
Despite these precautions, the Jasberians grew ever more fearful. This came to a head when the Dragoonya sacked the Dormian city of Loptos. It was destroyed when a Great Sleeper arrived and turned out to be a Dragoonya in disguise. This episode frightened the leaders of Jasber to the core. In response, the Jasberians took a rather extreme measure: they decided that no Great Sleeper would ever be allowed to enter the city of Jasber again. Instead, the labyrinth sweepers would find the Great Sleeper in the maze, take possession of his or her Dormian bloom, and deliver it to Jasber themselves.
And what would then become of the Great Sleeper?
The leaders of Jasber refused to allow these Great Sleepers to return to the outside world. "Simply put, these people—although they are the true heroes of Jasber—know too much," wrote Karlovo Wachterovsk, who was the Grand Vizier of Jasber at the time. "For that reason, we ask them for a final sacrifice: they must spend the rest of their lives in the maze." And so the Jasberians built a tiny cottage at the center of the maze, and it was here that each and every Great Sleeper was meant to stay until he or she died.
Escaping this cottage was impossible. The maze was simply too vast. Dormians in the remaining cities of the kingdom—which included Quartin, Ribilinos, Noctos, and Somnos—objected vehemently to this practice and decried it as inhumane, cold-hearted, and contrary to the noble spirit of Dormia. But the Jasberians would not be dissuaded. And so, in the ensuing centuries, many Dormian poets have composed odes to the lonely fate of the Great Sleepers of Jasber. Perhaps the most famous of these writings is the following passage by an unknown poet from Quartin.
Robbed of family, hearth, and home
Nothing but the Labyrinth to roam
A more tragic fate is not known,
Than of these heroes who die alone.
"Did you know about all this?" asked Alfonso when he finished reading.
Hill sipped his mint tea. "No," he said. "I remember hearing about how the Jasberians were paranoid, but I didn't realize that they were quite this paranoid."
"Well," said Alfonso, "at least now we know a bit more about Kiril's list and what a khopesh is. Why do you think he needs it?"
"I'm not sure," said Hill. "Clearly Kiril plans on going all the way to Jasber."
"Yeah," said Alfonso, "but why?"
"Don't know," said Hill. "I'd always presumed that his only goal was to escape. He can't take on Jasber by himself, even if he is the world's best swordsman."
"What about Dad?" asked Alfonso. "Do you think he's in that cottage?"
"It's funny," said Hill with a sad smile. "As you were reading, a memory of your father came into my head. I haven't thought of it in years! I once locked him in the close
t when we were both boys—we couldn't have been more than five and seven—and as small as he was, he split one of the wood panels on the door just trying to get out. He never gave up."
"You think Dad's going to try and escape?" asked Alfonso.
Hill nodded.
"You seem pretty certain," remarked Alfonso.
His uncle shook his head. "Leif won't accept staying in that cottage for the rest of his life, especially when he has a wife and son waiting for him."
Alfonso looked worried. He had just remembered something.
"I forgot to show this to you," said Alfonso. "My sleeping-self stole it back in Marseilles." Alfonso reached into his backpack and pulled out the tin containing the Polyvalent Crotalid Antivenin and two syringes.
"Hmm," said Hill with a worried look. "Antivenin—it's what you take to counteract the venom from a spider or a snake."
"Do you suppose..."
"Hush!" said Hill.
"What is it?" whispered Alfonso.
"Turn around and have a look," said Hill.
Very slowly, Alfonso turned around. At first, he saw nothing. Then he noticed that the road behind them was now blocked by several dozen giant, gnarled boulders that seemed to have materialized out of nowhere.
"Where did those boulders come from?" asked Alfonso.
"I have no idea," whispered Hill hoarsely. "Quickly now, let's build up the fire."
Alfonso felt a shiver run up his spine. He shoved the tin back into his backpack, double-checked that his sphere was readily available, and turned to work on the fire. He and Hill worked together for several minutes, throwing scraps of wood onto the fire, until the flames roared to life and crackled greedily. Alfonso rubbed his eyes wearily. He felt tired.
"It's the strangest thing," said Alfonso, as he stared into the now roaring fire. "Every time I start to feel sleepy, I almost feel like some force is pulling me deeper into the Fault Roads."
