by Jake Halpern
Resuza translated Hill's question and Kyn shook his head.
"He says there is no way to the world above," said Resuza. "If there were a way, he would have taken it long ago."
"How's the sergeant doing?" asked Alfonso.
"He's resting," said Hill. "Which is exactly what we should be doing. Let's get a few hours of shuteye. It'll help immensely."
While everyone settled down to rest, Alfonso rummaged through his backpack until he found the rosewood box. He'd been waiting eagerly until he had a spare moment to tinker with the box again. The top had been ripped off, and the vial of bluish liquid was gone, but the rest of the box was intact. Alfonso stared at the floor of the box and eased his way into hypnogogia. With great concentration, he studied the thousands of indentations along the floor of the box. Almost instantly, he saw the optical illusion of the door swinging open and then—presto—he once again entered the secret antechamber.
The antechamber was slightly different from how Alfonso remembered it. The room was the same size and the desk was still there, but now a small fireplace burned brightly against one wall. Also, instead of three doors in the room, there were now just two—the one marked with the drawing of an ocean wave and the one marked with the drawing of a brick wall. The third door with the cloud, which Alfonso had entered on his previous visit, was gone.
Alfonso walked over to the desk and discovered a new note written on a piece of parchment:
Alfonso,
The window to change the course of events is closing. You must get to Jasber quickly, although you must also master the art of hypnogogia before you Hypnogogia offers portholes into other realms. Some scholars mistakenly believed that hypnogogia is merely an extremely heightened state of perception in which it is possible to see hear, and smell with supernatural abilities. Although this is true, a truly skilled Great Sleeper can also use hypnogogia not just to see the smallest particles of matter, but to alter and manipulate them as well.
The world is made of minute particles known as oms, each of which contain two layers. In the outside world this concept known as omism was first described by an Arabic alchemist named Jabir ibn Hayyan in the 8th century A.D. Dormian scientists, of course knew about omism long before that.
The most important concept of omism is this: if a person manages to see oms with the naked eye the outer layer immediately disintegrates, and small pockets of nothingness are created These voids don't exist for very long, but while they do, they allow for the laws of physics to be altered Gravity, for example can occasionally be disobeyed Of course the only way to see oms with the naked eye is to enter hypnogogia which only Great Sleepers can do.
Good luck, my friend Your humble servant,
Imad
P.S. Look for the ageling. She will take you to your
father and together you can save him—if you arrive in time.
Alfonso read Imad's note several times, and wished he knew more about omism. Eventually, he turned his attention to the two remaining doorways. He focused on the one marked with the drawing of the brick wall. Alfonso opened the door and discovered that, sure enough, a sturdy red brick wall blocked the doorway.
How am I supposed to pass through this? wondered Alfonso.
Alfonso then recalled the line from Imad's note about altering "the laws of physics" and knew what he had to do. He concentrated on the smallest speck that he could see on the grainy exterior of the brick wall. Then he forced himself to peer even deeper, until all he could see were billions of minute reddish particles. The air crackled with electricity and the particles of brick began to waver, as if their solidity had been compromised. Alfonso cautiously inserted a fingertip, his hand, and then his entire arm into the wall.
Seconds later, his eyes opened and he found himself back in the room with Hill, Resuza, Bilblox, Kyn, and the wounded Dormian soldier. Alfonso was exhausted and wanted only one thing: sleep.
Soon everyone in the room was slumbering—everyone but Kyn.
CHAPTER 28
A VISION FROM THE CHAIR
SEVERAL HUNDRED MILES AWAY, the city of Jasber began waking up. The city's inhabitants, known as Jasberians, were finishing their work, returning to their homes, and sleepwalking into their kitchens to prepare food. It was dinnertime, the first waking meal of the day, and Jasberians always spent this meal with their families. When they woke up, Jasberians all heard the exact same sound, that of rushing water. Jasber was situated at the foot of a massive waterfall and shrouded in a perpetual cloud of mist. This waterfall emptied into a roiling river of whitecaps, which then forked its way around the three islands that made up the city.
Each of the three islands of Jasber had a distinct purpose. One contained virtually all the city's residents. This was Jasber Isle. The second contained only the city's Founding Tree. This was Tree Isle. And the third contained a palace with five tall, spindly towers, the tallest of which sparkled as if it were inlaid with thousands of diamonds. This palace was the city's monastery, and the island on which it sat was known as Monastery Isle.
On this particular morning, as on all mornings, the monks on Monastery Isle were performing their ancient chanting ritual. They assembled in the monastery's main hall and chanted in Dormian to the slow beat of a giant bronze gong. All the monks were gathered there except for the chief monk, or abbot, who was busy conducting a ritual of his own. He was escorting a redheaded girl, who appeared to be no more than eight or nine, down a stone promenade to a rocky point at the tip of Monastery Isle. At the far end of the promenade stood a thin stone tower with a commanding view of Tree Isle. This is where they were headed.
"You need to stay focused, Marta," the abbot was saying. He was a kindly, gray-haired man with a slight limp. He was smoking a pipe and talking quietly as he led the way forward. "Your powers of clairvoyance will be of no use to us if you do not stay focused," he said. "You must look at the tree and only at the tree. That is what matters. And, of course, when you have your visions, you must look at the astrological clock just beneath the tree so that—"
"I know, I know," said Marta. "To get the exact date."
"Yes, my dear," said the abbot with a smile. "After all, what good is it to have a vision of the future if we do not know when the events in that vision will take place?"
"Master Abbot, you've told me all this before," said Marta with a sigh.
The abbot paused for a moment, turned, and looked at Marta. She was tall for her age, with bright green eyes, a face full of freckles, and a pointy little chin. The abbot didn't speak at first and the only sound was that of the waterfall and the rushing river. He looked kindly at the young girl and patted her head. "Marta, I have seen you, from time to time, glancing elsewhere," he said. "That won't do. When you are sitting in the chair you must stare only at the tree."
"But I get so bored!" protested Marta. "A kid isn't supposed to sit in a chair for hours just staring ahead."
"I know, my child," replied the abbot. "But your task is to protect the most valuable living thing in the world, our Founding Tree. And I think you know full well that you are no ordinary girl."
And, of course, Marta knew this was true. She wasn't a normal girl. A little over two years ago, the abbot had selected Marta to be the thirty-third seer of Jasber. Seers were chosen once every two hundred years and the selection process was rigorous. Every child in Jasber was tested. Marta still recalled the test well. She and a group of other children boarded a rowboat for Monastery Isle. Once there, they were led into a small cellar in the monastery illuminated by a dozen paper lanterns. Inside stood a long banquet table with a large clay urn filled with silvery-colored water in the middle. One by one, they were invited to look into the urn.
Marta did as she was told. At first she saw nothing, but then she noticed an eyeball floating just beneath the surface of the water. It was large, easily twice the size of a normal human eyeball.
"Whose eye is that?" asked Marta."It belonged to Imad the Great," replied a monk who was standing next
to the urn.
"You mean the Cyclops?" asked Marta.
"Yes," replied the monk. "Now look into it and tell me what you see."
Marta did as she was told and stared into the eyeball. To her astonishment, in the black pupil of the eyeball she saw the tiny image of Imad himself. He was hunched over a desk and writing feverishly.
"I see Imad," said Marta matter-of-factly. "He is scribbling something."
"Really?" replied the monk. He seemed very pleased. "Can you tell what Imad is writing?"
"Yes," replied Marta. "Shall I read it to you?"
"Please," said the monk.
She peered closer and said, "'What exactly does the future hold? Its many secrets remain untold. Hidden in the burning hot and biting cold is the key to a future foretold.'"
"As I live and breathe!" exclaimed the monk.
"What's the matter?" asked Marta. "Did I not read it correctly?"
"No, to the contrary," replied the monk. "You're the only child in Jasber who has seen anything in that dead eyeball, let alone read the verse that Imad was writing."
"What does that mean?" asked Marta.
"It means that you must speak with the abbot," replied the monk excitedly.
Several days later, Marta traveled to Monastery Isle by herself to meet with the abbot. They met in his office, a dusty room full of books, cobwebs, and a dozen half-finished cups of tea.
"My dear girl, you are second-sighted," announced the abbot. "You have the ability to see what we all see, but you also have the ability to look at things and see what is hidden to everyone else." He smiled with great excitement. "You can perceive the detail in things that others cannot. You are destined for great things as our new seer. Do you know what this entails?"
Marta nodded somberly. Every man, woman, and child in Jasber knew exactly what it meant to become a seer. Once chosen, seers were asked to drop a lone granule of the green ash from the Founding Tree into each of their eyes. The result was a deep coma. Upon emerging from their comas, seers had the power of clairvoyance. When they stared with great concentration at a given object they could, from time to time, see glimpses of that very same object at some point in the indefinite future.
Once, long ago, the seers of Jasber had far greater powers. With the use of the Foreseeing Pen they could write highly detailed prophecies that spanned thousands of years into the future and included the entire world. The one-eyed monk, Imad, had designed the pen himself. But the pen and ash combination ultimately brought trouble—foreign spies and mercenaries came looking for it—and so the leaders of Jasber did away with the pen. Nowadays, the seers of Jasber had limited visions of the future that never spanned more than two centuries. What's more, in modern times each seer of Jasber was charged with just one responsibility—staring at the city's Founding Tree for several hours every day. The purpose of the ritual was to ensure the safety of Jasber. The logic went as follows: As long as the Founding Tree was alive and well, then, presumably, the city was okay. On the other hand, if a seer foresaw a problem with the tree—saw it being burned, for example—then the people of Jasber would have time to alter this fate before it came to pass.
"Do you know what being a seer entails?" the abbot asked again, summoning Marta from her thoughts.
"I won't be able to see my family again if I become a seer," said Marta, "will I?"
"It's too dangerous. Once you can see into the future, you are a resource ... and a danger," replied the abbot. He paused awkwardly and then smiled rather sadly. "We here on Monastery Isle will become your family."
***
Marta and the abbot continued their stroll to the end of Monastery Isle until they reached the stone tower. The abbot fumbled for a key to the locked wooden door at the tower's base, and when it opened they walked carefully up a spiral staircase that led to the roof. It was perfectly flat, and in the middle sat a giant wooden chair. Without saying a word, Marta scurried over to the chair and climbed up into it. The chair was so tall that it had a ladder with six rungs built in to make it easier to climb up and take a seat. Once she was in the chair, Marta had a perfect view of Tree Isle and the Founding Tree. She stared across the river to this massive tree and sighed rather wearily. She would be here like this—just staring and staring—for the next six hours.
There was no rhyme or reason to when Marta had her visions. Sometimes she had five or six in a single day. Sometimes she had none. On this particular day, she had been staring at the tree for almost four hours and she still hadn't had a single vision. Finally, out of boredom, she glanced down at the abbott to see what he was up to. He was sitting cross-legged at the base of the tower. He appeared to be deeply engrossed in a book.
Marta's heart began to throb in her chest as she realized what she was about to do. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and then turned her entire body around so that she could get a glimpse of Jasber Isle. She drank in the sight of the delicate wooden buildings with steep, sloping rooftops that formed the city's skyline. She saw the city's armory with its four distinctive domes. She strained her eyes and barely, just barely, she could see the five-story townhouse where her parents and siblings lived. Home. Just the sight of it filled her with a deep longing. Marta was about to return her attention to the Founding Tree when, suddenly, she began to feel cold and slightly nauseous. There was no mistaking it—a vision was coming.
Flames.
There were flames racing up the sides of the armory. A tall man with white eyes and a gruesome, coiling scar across his face was holding a torch and starting new fires wherever he went. The flames spread quickly, devouring much of the neighborhood surrounding the armory. Her family's townhouse was burning, and she saw her mother and father trapped on the roof. Marta was terrified, but somehow she kept her calm and remembered the most important rule that one could follow when having a vision. The date. She needed to know when this would happen. A tower with an astrological clock stood at the north end of the armory. Marta turned to it. Although it was difficult to see through the flames, in the waning seconds of her vision she glimpsed the date when the fire would take place. It was just seven days from now—one week into the future.
CHAPTER 29
THE ELEVEN-SIDED HALL
DEEP UNDERGROUND IN THE HUB, Alfonso suddenly awoke with his heart beating loudly in his ears. It took a second to realize that a struggle was taking place in the dimly lit room. Muffled curses and loud, gasping noises filled the air. Alfonso jumped to his feet and peered around, trying to determine what was happening. A few seconds later, the gasping noises stopped. By that time, Alfonso had taken a candle from his backpack and lit it.
Kyn lay pinned to the floor. Hill's elbow was at Kyn's throat, and his full weight pressed down upon him. Dark blood pooled at the zwodszay's neck and coated his lips. Kõrgu had one of the zwodszay's thin, knobby arms between his fangs.
"Spit it out," Hill commanded.
Resuza stood next to them, her face pale and sweaty. She stammered a translation of Hill's words to Kyn. He tried to respond, but could not because of Hill's elbow.
"Let him speak," said Resuza.
"What could he possibly have to say?" snarled Hill. "This—this beast was licking the sergeant's blood. Look at that blood covering his mouth. Even now he's smacking his lips, trying to taste it." He shook his head but then relaxed his grip on Kyn.
Kyn lay motionless. They could all see blood flowing from the veins of his upper body to his throat. He tried to say something, but only faint rasps came out. Finally, he managed to sputter a few words.
"He says the soldier was already dead," said Resuza. "It's not their custom to waste food."
Kyn looked up at Hill with wide, round eyes and said a few more words that sounded like a kitten purring. Hill's shoulders relaxed. He stood up and shook his head in deep disgust. "Tell him that we do not eat our dead," he told Resuza. "Tell him to promise that he will leave the sergeant's body alone."
Kyn nodded eagerly. Hill ignored him and walked to a corner of th
e room, where the sergeant lay. Hill and Alfonso wrapped his body in a blanket. Once this task was finished, Hill banished Kyn to the circular room and told him not to return. When he was gone, they sat together silently. The only person who suffered an injury during the melee was Bilblox, whose leg had been cut slightly. Resuza washed the cut carefully and then wrapped a piece of raw cotton around it. As they sat there, the presence of the dead soldier weighed heavily upon them.
"When did the sergeant die?" Alfonso asked.
Hill shrugged his shoulders. After several minutes of silence, he finally spoke. "We have to leave now. The Hub is filled with danger—I feel it. I don't trust Kyn, but I think he's telling the truth about there being no way to the surface. That leaves only one option."
"The Jasber Gate," said Resuza.
Hill nodded.
"We should probably go then," said Resuza. "I don't know why we haven't been attacked yet—and I don't see any reason to stick around here."
From the other room, Kyn began making noise.
"What's the matter now?" asked Bilblox.
Kõrgu bared her fangs and began a low growl.
"She senses danger," replied Bilblox. "Time to move."
Commotion broke out in the room, as everyone gathered their belongings and made sure their weapons were at the ready. They joined Kyn in the circular room.
"Sjurs!" exclaimed Kyn. "SJURS!"
"He just keeps saying 'thousands,'" explained Resuza. She seemed exasperated. Kyn unbolted the door and ran into the hallway. He gestured for them to follow him downstairs.
"Why should we go downstairs into the big room?" Alfonso asked. "It's too open. We just left there to come up here to hide."
"The noise is coming from above us," Bilblox quickly replied.
