by Scott Meyer
Jimmy said, “Probably very little. If I had to guess, I’d say that he designed the castle, picked the location and period of history he wanted, then built this passage a few hundred years earlier. Why artificially age the place when it’s just as easy to let it age on its own?”
Phillip was amazed. “All these years of time-travel experience, and that simply didn’t occur to me.”
Jimmy chuckled. “Yeah. You and I, we did the same thing. We learned how to time-travel and teleport, we found a new time and place to call home; then we called that good and pretty much stayed there. We made a nest for ourselves. Of course, you did a better job. I made a real hash of it.”
“That’s what you call it?” Phillip asked. “You lied, manipulated, accidentally killed an entire town, and tried to kill all the rest of us, and you say you ‘made a hash of it.’ ”
“Yes,” Jimmy said, “I do, because if I dwell on what I did for too long, I spiral into a depression that takes days to drag myself out of. Anyway, back to my original point: we used time travel as a simple means of transportation, but it can be much more. It can be a powerful tool, if you think about it.”
Phillip looked sideways at Jimmy. “And you’ve thought about it?”
“While I was in exile, I spent thirty years traveling by foot and bicycle from Argentina to the Pacific Northwest. I had plenty of time to think.”
Phillip said, “Wait just a minute, Jimmy. Considering what you did, I think thirty years of exile is pretty damned lenient. In fact—”
“Hey, no argument. I did not mean to suggest that I’ve been treated badly. Really, Phil, at the time I resisted, but in retrospect I’m nothing but grateful that you didn’t just kill me and be done with it. I certainly gave you enough reason. I was just describing the situation, not blaming anyone but myself for it.”
Phillip said, “Okay, then,” but it didn’t sound like it was okay. “You’ve never said that before.”
Jimmy said, “We don’t exactly talk much, which, again, I don’t blame you for. Like you said, I killed a town. If the current manifestation of my punishment is that I’m a pariah, I’m still getting off pretty easy.”
The two men walked in silence for several seconds before Jimmy decided to risk saying what was on his mind.
“By the way,” he said, “I think I know that you and Tyler were talking about me back when we first crossed the river.”
“You think so?” Phillip asked.
“Yes. It was your first chance to have a private conversation since the quest started, and I’m pretty sure you were discussing whether or not you could trust me.”
Phillip nodded. “What do you think?”
Jimmy smiled. “There are a few answers to that question. I know that you can trust me, and I don’t think you will. I think you were perfectly right to want to discuss it. I think that if I were in your place, I’d have a great deal of difficulty ever trusting me again. I think that if you did trust me, that I’d be extremely reticent to ever betray that trust unless I had a very good reason, which sounds bad, but if you think about it, that’s the most you can really ever trust anyone. Lastly, I think that if I were you, I’d trust me to do what’s best for me, and to that end, let me assure you, it’s best for me to keep the three of you alive and happy. I have a much better chance of survival if I have you here to help me. Besides, when we return to Leadchurch and have to explain that Jeff is not coming back with us, I fully expect everyone to suspect that I had something to do with it no matter what you three say. Imagine if I came back without any of you.”
Jimmy’s analysis of the situation exactly matched Phillip’s. Phillip didn’t know how he felt about that. He didn’t have long to dwell on it, because in the distance, they could see the end of what had looked like an endless line of torches and the entrance to some sort of very well lit chamber.
It was hard to know how far underground they were. The staircase had been several hundred yards long at least. They reached the landing and the passage widened into a large chamber that appeared to be shaped roughly like a cube. It was full of unusual items. They decided to investigate.
Set along the walls of the chamber were six large stone bowls, three to each side. Each bowl contained a roaring fire. Beside each bowl there was a large glass lens set in a bronze fitting, focusing the light from the fire in a specific direction.
In the center of the room, on a stone pedestal, there was a statue of a muscular warrior god. The statue had six overdeveloped arms, each wielding a dagger. The daggers had dull metal handles, but the blades were polished to a mirror finish. Also, the arms looked to be jointed at the shoulder so that they could swing through a specific range of motion.
On the far wall of the chamber there was an ornately carved stone door, covered with cryptic symbols that neither Phillip nor Jimmy recognized. Several feet in front of the door, on either side, there were three large stone cylinders set into the floor, six in total. The cylinders were also covered with cryptic markings. In front of each set of cylinders there was a handrail and a small mirror on a pole.
Phillip said, “I think it may be some kind of puzzle.”
Phillip and Jimmy solved the puzzle, but only after quite a bit of trial and error and no small amount of frustration. When stone doors slowly opened, the two men were so relieved they nearly hugged. Their exuberance was muted by the fact that they could hear distant voices coming from the dim passage beyond the door.
They crept in as quietly as they could. The passage led to a treasure chamber. Heaped all around the walls were piles and piles of precious objects. There were sculptures of chariots, horses, mighty warriors, and beautiful women, ranging in size from about four inches to full size. There were artworks depicting horses, chariots, mighty warriors, and beautiful women hanging on the walls and resting on the floors, leaning against the piles of other glittering loot. There were ostentatious cloaks and boots, hewn from fine fabric and supple leather. Many of them bore pictograms of horses, chariots, mighty warriors, and beautiful women. They littered the floor, far too many for any one man to need. There were also crowns of various size and design, all distinct while remaining essentially the same. Despite the opulence, there were only two real pieces of furniture: a large, comfortable-looking throne and a stone stand for displaying the most precious possession of all, or at least the most entertaining to look at.
Phillip thought, It’s like a bachelor’s apartment, dipped in gold.
A gangly king sat on the throne, dressed in an oversized crown and ermine robes colored green and gold, similar to the robes Jimmy wore back when he called himself Merlin. The king was cackling with delight. His crown slid around on his too-narrow head as he rocked with laughter. As the king squirmed with delight, Phillip briefly caught a glimpse of his face and immediately recognized it as an unflattering caricature of Jimmy.
The object of the king’s laughter was instantly clear. On the table opposite the throne rested a beautiful golden birdcage. Inside the cage, a canary that appeared to be made from hammered bronze and clockwork parts was waving its wings and swooning as if it might soon fall unconscious. In front of the table, a short, fat man in a sky-blue court-jester costume was leaning on the birdcage with his sweat-stained armpit looming menacingly directly over the poor creature’s head. As the clockwork-canary choked and the king laughed, the jester stood straight, spun in place, and took a bow. Despite the too-prominent nose, the eyes being too close together, and the teeth being too far apart, the jester was clearly meant to be Phillip.
“More!” the king cried, pounding on the arms of his throne. “More!”
The jester bowed and said, “As you demand, your stuposity!”
The king clapped his hands with delight as the jester turned and regarded the canary, who could only be Oban, the canary the miners had lost. Oban had just stopped coughing and was catching its breath. The jester leaned forward, putting
his face right up to the bars of the cage. Oban eyed him wearily. The jester opened his mouth and belched extravagantly right in Oban’s face. The metal bird hacked and wheezed, much to the king’s delight.
“Ugh,” Phillip moaned. “It’s just so lowbrow.”
Through gritted teeth, Jimmy whispered, “We’ve gotta save the bird before that fool farts.”
Phillip’s hand went to his sword. He said, “You take the jester. I’ll handle the king.”
Jimmy said, “Done.”
The two men rushed from the shadows, swords drawn, screaming bloody murder. Jimmy closed the gap between himself and the jester almost instantly. The jester didn’t even have time to raise his hands before Jimmy brought the pommel of his sword down on the jester’s skull, instantly knocking him unconscious. Jimmy turned triumphantly to show Phillip his handiwork but was struck speechless by what he saw.
The king had managed to rise from his throne and offer some resistance. Not enough, clearly, as the king’s left hand and half of his forearm were lying on the stone floor, and Phillip’s sword was buried deep in the king’s ribcage, having gotten there by chopping through the royal trapezius and clavicle.
Phillip jerked at his sword, but it did not budge. The king slumped into his throne and fell backward as far as he could with Phillip’s sword protruding from his back. Phillip raised a foot, braced it against the king’s torso, and pulled his sword free. He turned around to face Jimmy, grinning from ear to ear.
He saw the jester, lying unconscious but alive on the ground, and the look on Jimmy’s face, and said, “Oh, uh. Sorry. Look, it wasn’t really you.”
Jimmy said, “Yeah, I get it.” He lifted the birdcage and said, “Come on, Oban, let’s take you home.” Oban fluttered happily, emitting a slight clanking noise.
As they left the treasure chamber, Phillip said, “He wasn’t real.”
“Yeah, whatever. I know.”
“Would it help if I said I was sorry?”
Jimmy said, “Maybe, if I thought you meant it.”
11.
When Phillip and Jimmy emerged from the stone aperture carrying Oban the mechanical canary, Tyler and Gary were deep in conversation. They had their backs turned and were holding the levers forward by leaning back on them.
Tyler said, “I give you that Kirk was more entertaining on his own to watch, but that’s because he made more mistakes. When I said that Picard was the better captain, I meant that I’d rather serve on a ship under his command, because he was a better leader.”
Gary shook his head. “Okay, Tyler, I just meant that Captain Kirk was better because he was more fun to watch, because that’s all that matters. He’s a fictional character. You’re talking like you think he and Picard are real people, and that’s kinda scary.”
“Gary, I’ve heard you say some ridiculous, dishonest things,” Tyler moaned, “but I never thought you’d stoop to that. I say Picard’s the better captain, you disagree, and when I prove logically that I’m right, you act like I’m crazy to try to shame me into dropping it. Pathetic.”
“Whatever you say, Tyler.”
“Oh, that’s even worse! Pretending to humor me because I’m irrational instead of just admitting you’re wrong.”
“Okay, Tyler. If you say so.”
“Okay,” Tyler said, “now you’re starting to piss me off.”
Phillip cleared his throat and said, “Um, guys, sorry to interrupt.”
Gary turned, looking relieved. “Don’t be. Is that the canary?”
Tyler said, “Hey, this isn’t over.”
Gary rolled his eyes. “Okay, Tyler, that’s fine. Whatever you say.”
Tyler pointed at Gary and started to say something, but Jimmy interrupted. “We’d better get going. We want to be long gone before the sun comes up and someone finds out that Phillip killed the king.”
“Phillip killed a king?!” Gary asked.
Phillip said, “Yeah, I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Don’t be silly,” Jimmy said. “It’s all right. You should tell them all about it later. They’d probably think it was pretty cool, but now we really should get out of here.”
They went up the steps to the window through which they’d come in. They might have been able to go out the front door and sneak away behind the soldiers’ backs, but none of them liked the idea enough to even bring it up.
When they got outside, the night was crisp and quiet, save for the rushing of the water below. Surprisingly, the task of climbing down the buttresses was far more challenging than climbing up had been, partly because they were leading with their clumsy feet rather than their relatively dexterous hands and partly because the act of descending forced them to look down, which constantly reminded them of how much danger they were in.
Once they were back on the ground, they immediately left it again, leaping from rock to rock, crossing the river back the way they’d come. Again, it seemed much more difficult this time, since the slight downhill slant on the way to the castle was now an uphill slog, making all of the jumps more difficult. Also, the rocks seemed substantially less stable this time. They rocked more alarmingly as Gary, Jimmy (carrying Oban’s cage), and Phillip leapt from one to the other so that at any given time each of them had a rock to themselves. Tyler went last, and by the time he reached the first rock it was shaking constantly and felt like it could let go at any second.
“Guys,” he shouted, “I hate to rush you, but I kinda need you to move faster.”
The others looked back, and seeing how much the boulder was trembling, did indeed hurry up. Phillip had barely vacated a stone when Tyler leapt for it. To everyone’s horror, the boulder on which Tyler had been standing broke loose and swept away the instant his foot left it.
Tyler landed on all fours on the next boulder, which seemed to have been loosened by the others’ passing. It was shuddering even more alarmingly than the first boulder.
Gary nearly screamed. “Don’t worry, Ty! We’ll get you out of this!”
Tyler scowled over his shoulder at the empty space where he had been standing. His thoughts went back to the first day of the quest and the crumbling rock bridge, and he calmed way down. He muttered, “Oh, man,” then yelled, “Don’t worry about it,” but the others were already hastily scrambling from rock to rock to get him out of his predicament faster. When the next stone was vacant, Tyler made the leap, more in an effort to keep up than out of any sense of self-preservation. He threw himself across the gap between the rocks. The river raged beneath him and the stone that had just been supporting his weight fell away with the current and was gone before he landed.
Phillip watched the whole thing and saw that the boulder Tyler had landed on was also rocking dangerously. Phillip turned to Jimmy and Gary, shouting “Move! Move! We gotta go! He can’t hold on much longer!”
Tyler yelled, “No, guys! Hold up! Be careful!” He watched miserably as they did neither of those things. Jimmy, already off balance carrying the large metal birdcage, misjudged a leap and barely made his landing. He teetered sickeningly on one foot, swinging his free leg and arm. Oban clanked and fluttered on his perch as Jimmy swung the cage out over the river, trying desperately to alter his center of gravity. Jimmy finally regained his balance and immediately fell into a crouch. Ahead of him, Gary was scrambling like a gecko, hurling himself to the next rock with abandon. He landed on all fours and nearly slid forward off the far side of the rock. Jimmy had only just regained his footing, but he leapt to the next rock without taking any time to judge the distance. Phillip followed suit, landing hard on his stomach when his shoes lost traction on the wet stone.
Tyler shouted, “Guys! Slow down! You’re going to kill yourselves! I’m not in any more danger than you are!” He could see that it was useless. Phillip was now two boulders ahead and had scarcely heard him. Jimmy and Gary were too far away to hear a thing, especi
ally since Gary had already jumped another gap and was nearly to the far bank of the river.
Tyler took his time, mentally measuring the distance to the next rock and gathering his strength before committing to the jump. When he landed on the now-shaking boulder, he looked back and saw that the boulder from which he had just leapt was gone, traveling downriver at great speed. Tyler looked ahead. Gary was on solid ground now, and even in the dark at this distance, Tyler could see from Gary’s body language that he was deeply concerned.
As Tyler watched, Jimmy made the final leap to the relative safety of the riverbank, with a quick helping hand from Gary. Phillip threw himself onto the last stone, then forward to the waiting hands of Gary and Jimmy in one fluid movement. They all looked back at Tyler, who was standing five boulders back from them, looking nonchalant.
They were all yelling, but Tyler couldn’t hear a word over the thunderous roar of the rapids. From their arm motions and general demeanor he suspected that they were beckoning him to keep trying, to come to them, to not give up. He couldn’t help but smile. He knew that they would not be able to hear him, no matter how loud he yelled, so the only way he could communicate was through body language and actions.
Tyler stood tall. He moved slowly and deliberately. He stepped to the front of the boulder, taking care to maintain his balance as the rock shook beneath his feet. As gracefully as he could, he jumped to the next rock. He could tell from the terror on the others’ faces that the boulder behind him was no longer there.
Without looking back, he took his time, judged his distances carefully, and casually jumped to the next rock. The others on the riverbank seemed apoplectic. His attempt to calm them by remaining calm himself clearly was not working. Oh well, he thought, I’ll keep at it. Maybe they’ll get the hint, and if they don’t, it’ll be fun to watch them freak out.
Tyler had two more jumps until dry land. He stood stock still, watching the others yelling themselves hoarse trying to encourage him forward. Tyler attempted to make eye contact with each of them, no mean feat in the low light; then he pointed at the unsteady boulder on which he was standing. He took a deep breath, then made the next leap. Without looking behind him, he flourished with his hands to show that he knew that it had washed away once he had moved on. Then he shrugged. Both Phillip and Jimmy stopped yelling. They looked at each other, then back to Tyler. Gary was still freaking out, but that didn’t surprise Tyler. It wasn’t that Gary wasn’t smart. His brain was as good as anyone’s. He just chose to use it sparingly.
