by T. S. Graham
“Yes, but he wouldn’t have known what he was sensing. He hadn’t already been exposed, like you had. Besides, he’s probably out looking for the children and forgotten all about it by now. Anyway, there’s no point in worrying about it when we can’t go back until tomorrow.”
Sophina was relieved that Mrs. Tanner understood, but it was more than just her own clumsiness that caused her to feel bad. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you,” she apologized. “I should’ve known that you’d never hurt Eliot.”
“No, Sophina, it’s me who’s sorry—for everything you’ve been through,” said Mrs. Tanner. “I promise to do whatever it takes to set things right.”
For months Sophina had harbored nothing but spite for Mrs. Tanner, but that didn’t matter now. She had been given a chance to reconnect with her beloved mentor, and for that, she could only be grateful.
5 THE ELDERS
Sophina and Mrs. Tanner arrived at the edge of the valley just as Talfore and Jantu returned with a youth-sized cloak.
“Keep your head down,” Mrs. Tanner instructed as Sophina draped the velvety-soft material over her jacket. “Your eyes must remain hidden.”
Sophina peeked through the hood opening as they descended toward the city, taking in the unique gardens that lined both sides of the road. Each garden brimmed with yellow, green, and purple plants that bore a variety of peculiar fruits and vegetables: tiny orange ones with emerald spikes; yellow, curvy ones with lavender speckles; three-foot-tall ones with smooth, bluish skin that were shaped like bells; and, strangest of all, squat ones that looked like blobs of lumpy oatmeal with red raisins protruding from their skins.
Sophina spied an elongated crater that was torn into the earth at the edge of the road. Lodged at the near end of the depression was a large ball of twisted, scorched metal. She saw another crater close to the city, and another on the opposite side of the road. The gashes were all parallel to one another, with spheres of blackened metal at their heads and their tapered tails pointed straight toward the looming mountain.
And that’s when she saw it: a city of ice and stone set high on the peak above the distant snow line. She was surprised that she hadn’t noticed it before, although it was well camouflaged within the surrounding ice.
“Yes, those are projectiles,” said Mrs. Tanner, nodding to a nearby sphere. “And, yes, they were shot from up there.” Her eyes moved to the frozen towers on the summit. “Trellah has been at war with the Umbyans, the people of the Ice City, for most of recorded history. What the nations of this world lack in technology, they more than make up for with tenacity.”
The gates of Trellah now towered before them, constructed of wood planks as wide as Sophina’s driveway. A cloaked man with a bushy black beard saw them approach from his perch on a watchtower and blew into a spiral shell, producing a deep call that was reminiscent of a baritone saxophone.
“There’s nothing to fear behind those doors,” Mrs. Tanner assured her as the gates began to swing inward. “Stay close and nothing will go wrong.”
The widening gap between the doors revealed a mammoth vacharo lumbering forward with a leather harness strapped to its chest and back. When the opening was wide enough to pass through it stopped and reached down with its split trunk, plucking a clump of squirming plantimals from its keeper’s hands.
Talfore then led them into the streets, where crimson-eyed people dressed in medieval-style garb worked and mingled. Given the city’s fortifications and apparent lack of modern transportation system, Sophina was surprised to see such a wide variety of ethnicities within the population. Their skin colors ranged from light tan to deep ebony, with many, like Talfore and Jantu, appearing to be of mixed race. Their facial features and hair color varied nearly as much as their skin tone, but one characteristic was common to all: fins of bone above the eyes.
Sophina flinched as a shadow flashed across the ground and a piercing screech filled the streets. Sophina looked skyward—and what she saw answered the question of how all of these different people had arrived at a common place.
An enormous reptilian creature with membranous wings glided over the rooftops. An open-air wooden compartment was strapped to its back, upon which dozens of passengers sat. It responded to the commands of its driver, who was perched at the base of its long neck with reins in hand. It circled an elevated platform, then beat its wings with a great whoosh and landed so lightly that the people didn’t lurch an inch.
“I call them Sorian gliders,” Mrs. Tanner whispered nearby, “after the region where they live in the wild. Their proper name is still impossible for me to pronounce.”
Sophina watched as a gangling boy clad in bone-plated body armor wheeled a cart heaped with raw meat up to the glider, then jumped back at the first flash of needle-sharp teeth. The joints of the glider’s wings thrust sharply outward as it fed, providing an opening for another armored boy to rush in and lean a sturdy ladder up to the compartment, allowing the passengers to climb down one by one.
“Travel by land is dangerous,” Mrs. Tanner explained, “and can be attempted only while the sun shines on the road. Without the gliders, the people of Trellah would be isolated from the rest of their world.”
They followed Talfore through an alleyway and into a spirited street market, where hundreds of customers called out in strange and varied languages to vendors who strained to hear them over the ruckus. Each merchant’s cart held something unique. A woman with frizzy gray hair distributed shiny strips of green leather, while a man with chipped front teeth handed out earthen pottery. Another vendor tended to a pen filled with baby animals that were identical to Tahra, who yelped an inquisitive graw as they passed. The youngsters answered his call with much enthusiasm.
As Sophina observed the activities of the market, she realized that the wheels of commerce were turning faster than they ever could back home. So fast, in fact, that something seemed out of place.
“Nobody’s paying for anything,” she uttered in amazement.
“There’s no need for money here,” Mrs. Tanner murmured. “These vendors collect goods from other places and bring them here to be dispersed. In exchange, the people of Trellah provide them with food, shelter, and transport to their next destination. When they leave, they take goods produced here as payment to their next host city. Hoarding is strictly forbidden. Residences are communal, and built without hidden storage to promote honesty.”
“How far away do they come from?” Sophina asked.
“From across this globe,” answered Mrs. Tanner. “The map in the Elders’ chamber of the Great Cathedral will reveal things about this world that you won’t believe.”
Sophina followed Mrs. Tanner’s gaze to a majestic palace rising high above the marketplace. Its peaked roofs and twisting turrets were smooth and luxurious, in stark contrast to the rough lumber and stone of the surrounding structures.
A baritone note of a spiral shell blasted out from a watchtower, silencing the din of the market. Every man, woman, and child stopped what they were doing and turned to face the setting sun, only a sliver of which peeked over the perimeter wall. A second note blared, prompting everyone to kneel down on one knee and bow their heads. Sophina followed Mrs. Tanner’s lead and imitated the ritual, but tilted her head a bit to watch what was happening.
A dozen cloaked figures appeared atop the perimeter wall, one on each section that ran between the towers. They carried lit torches up the sides of the stone pyramids, where they held the flames high over the cauldrons. Then, just as a third note blared, they dropped the torches in, igniting a ring of towering infernos that cast a warm glow throughout the city.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” mused Mrs. Tanner as the market came back to life. “The oil in those cauldrons must be kept burning until sunrise, or everyone here would be in the gravest danger.”
Sophina wanted to know more, but they were moving again, out of the market and up the towering staircase of the Great Cathedral. After several minutes of normal-paced ascent they arrived at an arc
hed doorway. A circle was cut out of the wooden door’s center, and a piece of dappled leather was stretched tight within its circumference.
Talfore took a wooden club from a stand beside the door and struck it against the leather, creating a deep drum-boom that resonated through an unseen chamber within the building. Seconds later the door swung open, revealing an ancient-looking woman swathed in a maroon cloak. Talfore, Jantu, and Mrs. Tanner bowed as her searing eyes found Sophina.
“Hashah dal,” said Talfore. “Barah cuse: ‘Sophina of Thomasville.’ ”
“Kragah nas vort?” the woman asked in a voice thickened by untold years.
“Yes, she can be trusted,” Talfore answered.
“Ahhh, but how can you be sure?” the woman growled. “She is younger than any who have come before her. Impressionable are children—for few have learned to control their emotions, yes?”
“Yes,” Talfore agreed. “She followed Kate of Thomasville without her knowledge.”
“But why did she follow?” the woman asked, stepping toward Sophina. “Their reasons for coming are rarely selfless.”
The woman was so close now that Sophina could smell the odor of her garments. It reminded her of potatoes that had sat too long on the pantry floor. She fought the urge to step back, knowing that she was perilously close to the edge of the stairs.
“She followed me because a vrahkole came to our world and took her brother,” Mrs. Tanner chimed in. “She thought it was me who had taken him. I’ll vouch for her myself. She is young, but her mind is strong.”
“But yours is stronger, no doubt,” the woman said with impatience. “You should have reasoned with her—and sent her back before it was too late.”
“That wasn’t an option. A watcher has followed her from the other side. We had no choice but to bring her here for the night.”
“A watcher?” gasped the shriveled woman. “Perhaps you’re right about her. Watchers are drawn only to those who possess a powerful life force.”
“I’ll take her home at first light,” Mrs. Tanner promised, “if the Elders give me their blessing, of course.”
“The Elders will know what’s best.” The old woman studied Sophina with her freakish eyes. “Sophina of Thomasville, welcome to the Great Cathedral of Trellah. I am the Keeper of the Catacombs. Come—the Elders wait.”
The Keeper led them through the doorway and into a room more magnificent than any Sophina had ever seen. Its domed ceiling soared to unparalleled heights, supported by a network of wooden beams as wide as king-size beds; a dizzying array of stone statues, both of people and fantastical creatures, lined its perimeter; and untold etchings sprawled across its walls, each depicting a different story of love or war.
The expanse was illuminated by thousands of blue, teardrop-shaped flames. Each flame burned at the center of a star-shaped lily pad, all of which floated freely within a multi-tiered pyramid of liquid-filled canals that rose up several stories at the center of the room.
They followed the Keeper past a doorway to a much smaller room, where five young boys in red cloaks sat cross-legged on the floor before a black-cloaked instructor.
“Why—are—you—here?” the instructor said to the boys.
“Why—are—you—here?” the boys repeated.
“Those boys are Protectors in training,” Mrs. Tanner explained as they approached the far side of the mountainous pyramid. “It will be years before they’ll be ready to deal with the likes of us. Hopefully, they’ll never have to.”
The Keeper stopped before a dark corridor that led beneath the pyramid. A frightful chill came over Sophina as she stared into the bottomless chasm.
“The way to the Elders is dark,” the Keeper rasped, “but you will see nonetheless.”
“Will the Elders help us find my brother?” Sophina asked.
The Keeper’s eyebrows arched high. “Ahhh, the question isn’t ‘Will they help you?’ It’s ‘Will they allow you to look for him at all?’ ”
Anger percolated inside Sophina. She wanted to scream at the Keeper, to tell her that abandoning Eliot wasn’t an option, but she knew the old woman wasn’t the one who needed convincing.
“Come,” the Keeper beckoned, “so that you may heed the Elders’ wishes.”
Jantu projected a sharp click from his throat, and Tahra leapt from his shoulder onto the lip of the bottom canal. He and Talfore then followed the Keeper into the tunnel.
“What you’re about to see isn’t for the faint of heart,” Mrs. Tanner warned. “But I assure you, there’s no danger here.”
Cold, dank air blanketed Sophina as she followed Mrs. Tanner into the unknown. Descending into complete darkness, the corridor was steeper than she expected, and she sensed herself falling behind.
The Keeper said I’d be able to see! she thought, a touch of panic setting in. And now, a sickly sweet odor infiltrated her nostrils and turned her stomach sour. She trudged on for several more steps, but soon could no longer stand the smell; she had no choice but to turn back.
Then, she saw it—a soft, red glow emanating up from below. A dull luminescence also seemed to radiate from the surrounding rock, just as it had back in the cavern. Now she could see the shapes of the people ahead of her, and this eased her mind just enough to keep moving forward.
Before long, Sophina noticed that the passage walls were lined top to bottom with rectangular openings. As she peered into the cavities, she remembered the words I am the Keeper of the Catacombs, and what the rectangles contained suddenly became horrifyingly clear.
Catacomb is another word for tomb, she recalled, just as the first skeletal remains materialized out of the gloom. The tombs’ gruesome contents grew more vivid with each one she passed. Most of the crypts housed a single occupant, with dusty cloaks covering all but their skulls and protruding foot bones. But some contained multiple skeletons of different sizes, as if entire families had been laid to rest together.
As they ventured deeper, other hallways branched off from the main corridor, each lined with more resting places. Up ahead the pathway emptied into a large room where the far wall glowed brighter than the rest, with flecks of solid drahtuah diffused throughout the stone.
She tried to focus on the room, but her eyes were drawn back to the dead who surrounded her. The vaults at this depth were larger than the others, and their occupants better preserved. Some of the bodies were black and mummified, while others had just begun the slow process of decay. Their clouded eyes stared out at her, inducing a creeping feeling that one of them might reach out and drag her into the shadows, never to be seen again.
Just when Sophina had reached her breaking point, the Keeper led them out of the corridor and into a room that was even bigger than it had appeared from above. Straight ahead, awash in the glow of the drahtuah, were three ornate wooden coffins. The people who had been laid to rest inside them were clearly figures of some importance.
On each side of the glowing wall were two wood-plank walls, both adorned with colored etchings that chronicled great battles. Cloaked men on a raft brandished ivory staffs at two-headed sea monsters, while others clashed with human-like foes with wildly pronounced facial features, bristling hair, and triangular fangs. In front of the coffins, a large circle had been cut out of the wooden floor. Like the hole at the entrance of the Great Cathedral, it was filled with a piece of dappled leather.
Sophina turned to face the wall behind her—and was astonished by what she saw: a huge etching of a map, depicting geography that she had seen countless times. It was a rough outline of the Americas, from Northern Canada all the way to South America’s Cape Horn. The various regions were labeled in languages unlike any she had ever seen.
“Our lands are more alike than they first appear,” said Mrs. Tanner. “The tectonic plates move in the same manner, along the same fault lines. The difference is that here, the drahtuah strengthens the rock, making it more resistant to erosion. That’s why the mountains are higher, and the islands and coastline less w
orn by the waves. The days and nights are the same, as are the tides and lunar cycles, because their Earth and Moon are in complete sync with ours.”
“Come,” said the Keeper, drawing Sophina’s eyes and mind away from the map. “Talfore is strong, but opening the tombs will be easier for you.”
“The Elders . . . are inside of the coffins?” Now Sophina was sure that she didn’t want to meet them.
The Keeper led Sophina behind the vaults, where a thick wooden spool with a worn handle sat atop a raised platform. Three chains ran up from the spool and looped through pulleys that hung from the ceiling, one over each coffin. The chains then ran back down and disappeared into holes in the vaults’ lids.
“Turn the wheel, and you shall see,” said the Keeper, pointing a crooked finger.
Sophina stared at the spool in disbelief. How could she turn that wheel and raise all three lids at the same time? Yes, the feats of strength she had performed back in the forest were extraordinary, but this was different. Those lids weighed at least a ton combined! Still, she supposed that it wouldn’t kill her to try.
She gripped the handle with both hands and cranked the spool around in one smooth motion. Tiny gaps appeared beneath each lid with synchronized puffs of dust. With astonishing ease, she turned the wheel again and again as a lever clacked along notches that were chiseled into its rim, clearly a mechanism to keep the lids from slamming down if the handle were to be released.
The rising lids exposed three yellow-boned skeletons, each resting upon an open burgundy cloak. The bones were surrounded by bowls of mummified fruit, unusual flowers that were disintegrating to dust, and tiny figurines of people and exotic animals, including several that looked like Tahra.
Sophina released the handle and stared into three sets of empty eye sockets. Some light from the drahtuah filtered through the paper-thin bone that formed the eye fins.
“I don’t understand. You said we were coming to see the Elders.”
“And you will,” said the Keeper as she pulled a silky green cloth out of the left vault and spread it over the brittle remains.
