by Dennis Foon
Roan notices that he’s wearing a clean white robe, and that the cricket is sitting beside him on his pillow.
“I thought you were angels.”
“We are the Forgotten.”
She has strong hands, like Roan’s mother. He struggles not to be lulled, remembering the false image of his mother in one of his dreams.
“I’m Sari.”
Roan hesitates, wondering how much he should reveal to this stranger. But Sari does not wait on his decision.
“Rest. Your body needs to heal.”
She guides Roan’s head back to the pillow. He drifts, questions floating like dust.
When Roan next awakes, Sari is there again, this time with a bowl of yogurt. Roan can’t help but grin when he tastes it.
“You like it?” she asks.
“Much better than termites,” Roan replies.
“You’re feeling stronger. Are you up to meeting the others?”
Suddenly a wild, angry cry rips through the air. Lumpy.
“Easy on your feet!” warns Sari, but Roan jumps off the soft bed and runs out, stumbling as he reaches the doorway. He feels Sari’s strong hands steady him as he peers across a large cavern to see Lumpy atop a large rock, brandishing a stone.
“Get back! Back! Murderers!” Lumpy warns the mass of people who surround him. But they don’t appear very threatening. Most of them look old, hair turning white, garbed in robes.
“You’re alive, aren’t you?” says one of them mildly.
“Well...You kept changing the tunnels on us...You forced us into the cave with your other victims.”
The man nods. He’s tall, straight-backed, with deep-set eyes. “You entered our defense system.”
“What are your plans for us?” demands Lumpy, slowly lowering the stone.
“My name is Haron. You’re free to leave now if you wish,” the man says. “We offer our regrets for any discomfort you may have suffered. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want. With winter coming, you might find things more comfortable here.”
Lumpy eyes him suspiciously. “Where’s my friend?”
“Here I am, Lumpy!” Roan calls out from the other side of the cave.
“Let me through,” Lumpy says, and the crowd parts, giving him free passage to Roan. Sari respectfully steps away, as do the others, giving Roan and Lumpy a wide berth.
“What do you think?” Lumpy whispers. “They almost killed us.”
“If we leave, the Friends will be waiting for us.”
Lumpy rolls his eyes.
“You have to admit these people do have a pretty good defense system,” adds Roan.
“Good point,” says Lumpy.
“And they’ve had a good look at you and haven’t tried to stone you yet.”
Mustering as much dignity as he can, Lumpy announces, “We’ll stay for a while.”
“Come, I’ll show you around, if you’re feeling strong enough,” says Sari. “Look up.” The brightness makes him squint, but Roan can see that among the stalactites that hang high above them are numerous polished mirrors. “Our caves are riddled with cracks that let in sunlight. These mirrors capture and amplify the light.”
Throughout the cavern, people are busy at a variety of tasks, polishing mirrors, making furniture, weaving cloth, but each takes the time to nod to the newcomers as they pass.
“About three hundred of us live here,” Sari tells them. “We came toward the end of the Abominations. We’d had our fill of the brutality, bloodshed, and fear, and we agreed that cooperation was the key to our survival.”
“Where are the children?” asks Roan.
Sari grows somber. “We have none. There is a chemical that permeates the rock. It gives us health and very long life, but we discovered to our regret that it also prevents us from having children.”
At the edge of one wall, Sari presses on the stone, and a barely visible crack appears in the granite. It opens further under her touch to reveal a dim tunnel. Roan and Lumpy struggle to keep up as Sari moves dexterously through the winding passage. But they’re brought to an abrupt halt when confronted with a blinding shift in the light. As his eyes adjust, Roan is amazed by the sight of a gigantic garden. They’d had a few small greenhouses in Longlight, but nothing on this scale. Dozens of gardeners work in long rows of tomatoes and peppers and cucumbers. Sari explains that fruit and vegetable scrap is recycled into fertilizer. In an adjacent cave, another composting system reclaims human and animal waste.
“Deeper in our caves are mines, where we retrieve the silver for our mirrors.” Sari’s fingers brush another opening, and the wall again gives way before them. “And as you’ve already seen, our stone sculptors are exceptionally talented.”
Roan examines the threshold, admiring the nearly invisible stone work and extraordinarily close fit. He swings the rock wall the other way, and it creates a barrier on the opposite rock face. “This is how you trapped us.”
“It took many years for us to perfect the technique, but when your survival depends on it, almost anything is achievable,” says Sari.
Lumpy grimaces as they turn a corner. “Argh. I can’t stand that stink!”
Roan’s puzzled. “I don’t smell anything.”
“I hate the little bearded devils!” groans Lumpy.
The cave ahead of them is rife with bleating goats. The animals immediately swarm Lumpy, nibbling on his clothes.
“They like you,” chortles one of the goat herders. Lumpy scowls.
As the herders wrangle the animals into a long procession, Roan notices that a number of them are armed with long bows and finely crafted arrows.
Sari follows his gaze. “We never know when a roving band of brigands or mercenaries might appear,” she explains. “The tunnel from this cave leads to a hidden valley in the outside world. There the goats can graze while we tend our wheat and our apple orchard.”
“Why don’t you live in the valley?” asks Lumpy.
“After the last rebel stronghold was destroyed, our parents argued about whether to live in the valley, which seemed secure, or to stay hidden in the caves, which we had discovered but still had much to learn about. The majority chose the surface. We chose the underground. At first we envied the valley-dwellers. Despite the poisoned land all around, the prevailing winds had protected the valley’s soil from contamination. It was rich, and their crops grew high. But at the end of the summer, an army of mercenaries attacked. Many perished, and the fruits of their labors were lost. Those who remained realized the open was unsafe and joined us in the caves.”
As the last few goats are led outside, Lumpy gasps. One of the archers is a girl of about sixteen. Her skin is covered in Mor-Tick scars. Their eyes meet for a moment, then one of the goat herders calls out her name: “Lelbit!” The girl turns and disappears down the passage.
“Lelbit was brought to the old hospital when she was a child,” explains Sari. “Our healers worried many months over her survival. Her spirit is very strong.”
“You used the healing place?” Lumpy asks.
“Until it became too risky for both the patients and the healers. But we’re grateful Lelbit found us. She’s our finest archer, and she has developed a great number of other useful skills as well. Perhaps our healers can help you as well.”
A look of yearning crosses Lumpy’s face, but he doesn’t speak. Sari calls out and one of the Forgotten appears, and motions for Lumpy to follow.
Lumpy whispers to Roan. “If this is some kind of trick...”
Roan gives Lumpy a pat. “This is what you came for. I think it’s safe.”
“Hope you’re right, but if I don’t come back, save yourself,” mutters Lumpy as he’s led away.
Sari turns to Roan. “We have a place you might find interesting.”
The cavern is
enormous. It’s filled with shelves, every one of them jammed with books. Librarians on ladders tend the hundreds of volumes, and on long, sturdy tables below, dozens of scholars write and study.
“You read!” Roan dashes to the book stacks, running his fingers over the spines. A long-nosed, broad-bellied man joins Roan.
“It’s nothing, really, much less than a small public library used to contain in the old days.”
“It’s fantastic.”
“I’m Orin, Head Librarian.”
“Roan of Longlight.”
“You possessed a fine collection of books there, I’m told.”
“Not as big as this. You know about Longlight?”
“Yes, we heard the sad news.”
“How?”
“We have not lost our eyes and ears.”
“Then you might know that many of the books, at least my father’s collection, survived.”
Orin’s eyes open wide. “Really? Where? We do venture out sometimes on missions of that sort.”
“I believe a large part of his library is still in the house. The rest of the books were taken by Saint.”
Orin frowns at the mention of Saint’s name. “‘And he went up the mountain and was changed forever. There the Friend appeared to him out of the darkness and gave him the Word.’ Oh, dear. Saint and his Friends. What an ambitious crowd.” Orin shudders.
“I spent a year with them. And I read to him from his library.”
“And you left his company. I don’t suppose it was an amicable parting.”
“Far from it.”
“You’ll be safe from his reach while you’re with us.” Orin clamps his hand briefly on Roan’s shoulder. “If you like, you could help me out here in the library.”
Roan smiles. “I’d like that.” In fact, he thinks, nothing could make him happier than spending time in this room.
At supper, the meal table is loaded with vegetable stew, salad, cheeses, crusty breads, and fruit. Apple tarts and cookies for dessert. This is the kind of food Roan’s family lingered over in Longlight. But after filling his plate, he anxiously looks around. Lumpy still hasn’t turned up, and Roan’s beginning to doubt his instincts about this place. He’s finally sitting before the meal he’s dreamed about for months, and he cannot eat it.
“Don’t worry, they didn’t kill me,” says Lumpy, surprising Roan from behind.
Turning to greet his friend, Roan can’t help but stare at Lumpy’s skin, trying to discern if there’s any improvement.
“Don’t wear your eyes out,” says Lumpy. “The change is inside, not out. They gave me this salve for the pain.”
“Does it work?”
Lumpy grins. “It’s the first relief I’ve ever had. They said I’m suffering from a low-grade infection under the scars. If I apply the salve every day for the next six months, the pain will be gone for good.”
“But not the scars?” asks Roan.
Lumpy shakes his head. “Believe me, I’ve already gotten more than I hoped for.”
Their new sleeping quarters are in a small, comfortable hollow with clean-smelling woven beds. The walls in the room have been painted to darken the luminescent stone. Roan closes his eyes, but he can’t sleep. He feels the cricket crawl across his hand. His eyes open to see the little white insect scurrying onto his pack. Roan reaches into one of the pockets and pulls out Stowe’s doll, the cricket riding on top. He’s relieved to hear Lumpy’s voice.
“Can’t sleep?”
“No.”
“Me either. I haven’t slept in a bed in years. Or without pain.”
“So you still think we should stay here for the winter?” Roan whispers to his friend.
“Of course,” says Lumpy. “Besides, I can’t stop wondering about that girl, Lelbit. I’ve never seen anyone else like me who wasn’t dead. How about you?”
“I’m willing to stay. I feel safe here. Still...”
“They seem sad.”
“It’s true,” says Roan. “There’s no real sunlight, and no children.”
“Eventually they’ll all die off. It must be hard to know that.”
A searing loneliness consumes Roan, and he falls silent. In the darkness, he strokes the straw hair of Stowe’s doll, making a scratching sound.
“What was that?”
“Something of my sister’s.”
“You had a sister?”
“I was escaping with her. I was beaten down. She was taken.”
“She’s dead, then.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Why?”
“Dreams.”
“You’ve seen her in your dreams?”
“She calls me. But there’s something different about her. Changed. I can feel danger and I’m worried it might be coming from her.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I think I’m supposed to be here. It feels right. Somehow this place is connected to it all.”
Roan wakes refreshed the next morning. Curiously, no dreams or visions disturbed his sleep, but a rollicking appetite prevents him from considering the matter. When Sari joins them at breakfast, Roan’s slightly embarrassed at the mountain of biscuits, jam, and yogurt he and Lumpy have piled before them.
His mouth still full, Roan looks at Lumpy, then back at Sari.
“We’d like to accept your offer to winter in Oasis. Orin invited me to work in the library while I’m here. Are there any other tasks we can help you with?”
A wicked smile breaks out across Sari’s face. “Wonderful. You can help Haron harvest the radishes! You should be even hungrier by lunchtime.”
While Sari leads them through the labyrinthine passageways, she explains, “Haron is the oldest of all of us. Over a hundred.”
“He doesn’t look that old,” says Roan.
“Not a day over ninety,” adds Lumpy, with a smirk.
She takes them into the garden, and waits with quiet patience while Haron, in a single graceful gesture, pulls up a radish and places it in a sack.
“Roan and Lumpy are here to help,” Sari tells the old man.
Without so much as a glance at them, Haron pulls himself up and reaches high over his head, stretching. Then he walks over to a storage shed and gathers for each a small wooden trowel and a large woven bag.
“Fill these up. That section over there,” Haron whispers hoarsely.
“Good luck,” Sari says, an amused look on her face, and leaves.
“What was she smiling about?” Roan asks Lumpy.
“I don’t want to think about it, but I’m sure it’s something good for us. At least, she thinks so.”
On the other side of the garden, Roan and Lumpy begin yanking up radishes. Their energy flags only after their bags are half full and their faces are covered in dirt and sweat.
As they inch over to the water cistern, nursing aching backs, they observe Haron still languidly harvesting the crop.
“Bet you he hasn’t finished a quarter of a bag,” says Lumpy.
“Let’s find out.”
Filling a mug with water, Roan walks across to where the old man is harvesting. He’s surprised to see that Haron’s large bag is nearly full of radishes.
Haron nods his thanks for the water and drinks deeply.
“I knew your namesake.”
Roan looks at him, confused.
“Your great-grandfather Roan,” Haron says. “We fought together in the Last Battles. I saw him for the final time at the Parting. He was an extraordinary man. Greatest leader I’ve known.”
“The Parting?”
“That’s what we called our decision to quit the war and split up. Your great-grandfather went one way and started Longlight. My group came he
re.”
“There are others?”
“Yes. They went farther away and even deeper into cover.”
“Do you think they survived? I mean, could Oasis be all that’s left, now that Longlight is gone?”
Haron doesn’t answer. After a look that penetrates Roan to the core, he hands back the mug and returns to his work.
Adrift in a sea of unknowns, Roan is relieved to find Lumpy still awaiting the word on Haron’s radish status. It’s more fun than it should be wiping the smile off his face.
“Haron’s bag is almost full,” Roan solemnly reports.
Lumpy charges back to work, tugging up radishes at an impossible clip. Roan matches him pull for pull, but soon their hands and fingers are throbbing, and their spines feel as if they’ll never straighten again. Bags only two-thirds full, they collapse in the dirt, too sore and tired to go on. At that moment Haron passes by, leisurely lugging his bag, which is overflowing.
“Don’t worry, boys, the first time’s always the hardest,” he says, biting into a radish.
Determined, Roan and Lumpy remain until they’ve finished filling their bags. Delivering their radishes to the kitchen, exhausted and wanting only rest, they are then swept off to the community bath.
The bath is a pool of water heated by a steaming fissure in the rock. It’s big enough to accommodate ten people, and when Roan and Lumpy arrive, both men and women are soaking naked in the waters. Lelbit, the archer, is among them.
Lumpy hesitates. “Maybe we should come back later.”
“You’re not the only one who’s lost his skin,” one of the men says as he stands. His own skin is horribly scarred. “I was caught in the Red Rains; a lot of us here were. Come in. You’re in good company.”
Lumpy looks at Roan and shrugs. They strip off their robes, then step into the water. It’s very hot, with a slight scent of sulfur. A far cry from the cold streams they’ve been splashing in.
The steaming water makes Roan buoyant. It would be easy to enter into a blissful state here, but he has something else in mind. He signals Lumpy to start up a conversation with Lelbit, who’s resting her head on the pool’s edge, eyes closed.
“Not now,” Lumpy whispers.
“Go on.” Roan nudges Lumpy.
