by Frey, James
Bilal leaps up. “I will show you,” he says. Kelebek frowns, but a moment later she stands as well. She says nothing as she turns and walks away. Bilal grins at me. “Come on,” he says, cocking his head.
We pass out of the cave and move into a corridor that winds its way in a slow downward spiral. We are going deeper into the mountain. I have no sense of what time it is, whether it’s night or day, or how long I’ve been inside this place. I feel as if I am in a dream, one that began a lifetime ago and may never end. It occurs to me that perhaps I am dead, and that these children are my guides into the realm of the ancestors. And then I think of the poison in my arm, and how it is killing me. Can it really not be stopped? How much time do I have left before it runs its course?
Somewhere inside this mountain, Boone and Cassandra are also either dead or moving closer to the place where the final treasure lies waiting for the winner to claim it. How far ahead of me are they? Are they together? What trials have they endured that I have not? All these questions play at my mind as we journey through the rocky passageways.
“We will take you to the hall of the guardians,” Bilal says. He has been beside me the whole way. I know he is watching to see if the poison causes me to stumble, and I appreciate his kindness.
“Who are these guardians?” I ask him. Then I think of the lake creatures whose poison is even now killing me. “Or what are they?”
“You will find out for yourself,” Kelebek says before Bilal can answer. This is obviously a warning to him to keep whatever he knows to himself.
“It’s not much farther,” Bilal says quietly.
We come to a set of stairs that leads down. Kelebek stops. “This is as far as we take you,” she says.
I reach out my hand to Bilal, who takes it. “Thank you,” I tell him. “If I survive this, I will give you the kuruş.”
“It’s all right,” he says. “Good luck.”
I lean down and kiss him on both cheeks. Then I turn to Kelebek. “Thank you for helping me.”
She nods. We have been through a great ordeal together, the two of us. I remember her climbing up the devil’s chimney, and how she never once faltered while facing a challenge. Even though she was willing to let me die earlier, I respect her for adhering to the rules of the game her people have devised—and for breaking them. “I think you are the bravest girl I’ve ever met,” I tell her.
A flicker of a smile passes over her face. Then it is gone, and she says, “Good-bye, Player.”
I walk down the stairs, leaving them behind and heading toward whatever is awaiting me below. I am unarmed, and the poison is weakening me more and more, but I am determined to face whatever is in the so-called hall of the guardians. I wonder if that will include my sister. I pat the pocket in which I stowed the two pieces of the key. I still have them. But will they ever be joined with the other two, or have those been lost? I will have to wait to find out.
The stairs end at an open doorway. I step through it and into a huge rectangular hall. Unlike the other rooms, which have all been lit by torches, this one is filled with a bluish light that shines from inside enormous gemlike stones set into the rock. They are very much like the ones in the tunnel in the first city, but on a much larger scale.
Their light illuminates the faces of statues that have been carved out of the rock. They stand at least 20 meters tall, lining both sides of the hall. They are identical to one another: humanoid in shape, with stern but handsome faces that are neither male nor female. Each has its hands cupped in front of its body, holding another of the glowing rocks. Curiously, several of the statues have been broken. One has had its head knocked off completely. It lies in the middle of the hall, the eyes looking up at the ceiling. Others are missing hands, and random pieces have been chipped from the bodies by some unknown force.
On each wall, there are several doorways similar to the one I have just come through. At the far end of the hall, a set of wide steps leads to a set of doors that lock as if they protect something valuable. I sense that behind them lies what I have come deep into the mountain for.
I step into the hall, alert for any signs of trouble, and begin investigating. I see something in the sand, and go to look at it. It’s a small metal ball with a piece of glass set into one end, and a button of some kind on the other. I have no idea what it is, but I put it into one of my pockets and resume searching. I soon find several other unusual items: a bow without a string lying beside two unused arrows, a knife that has been broken in two, a handful of bullet casings. This place has obviously been the scene of one—or probably several—battles. But against what? Between whom?
As I’m holding the bow and looking at it, someone runs into the hall through one of the doorways. I look up to see my sister standing not 10 meters away from me. She looks angry, and her mood does not improve when she sees me watching her. But we have no time to exchange pleasantries before Boone runs into the room as well. For a moment, he and Cassandra stand side by side, both of them with their eyes trained on me. Then Cassandra notices the bow in my hand. Immediately, her eyes begin scanning the area in search of other weapons.
Boone runs over to me. When he touches me in an attempt to embrace me, I wince. Then he notices my arm. “What happened?”
“The things in the lake are venomous,” I tell him.
“How did—”
I cut him off. “Later,” I say. I nod at Cassandra, who is picking something up from the sand. It looks like a spear. “We have to prepare for whatever is coming.”
Normally, Cassandra would have attacked one or both of us before searching for weapons. I know why she hasn’t—she wants us alive long enough to help her defeat whatever is coming. Then, she thinks, she will kill us and take the pieces of the key we have. Of course, I am thinking the same thing. Cassandra is deadly, but I am weakened by the poison in my body, and I don’t know if Boone and I alone can fight whatever the final guardian of the treasure is.
I reach into my pocket and take out the metal ball. “I found this,” I tell Boone. “I’m not sure what it is.”
“I think I know,” he tells me. “Or I have an idea, anyway. When the time comes, press the button. The glass eye will blink. When it does, throw it at whatever you’re trying to kill and then duck.”
A grenade of some kind. It will come in handy. I put it back in my pocket, then turn my attention to hunting for weapons. Boone does the same, making sure not to let Cassandra out of his sight. The three of us are like wolves, circling and waiting.
Boone is searching in some rubble. He bends down and picks something up. As he does, there’s a grinding, cracking sound. It’s coming from above us. We look up and see a hole opening in the ceiling as two stone slabs slide away. A shadow appears in the opening, huge and black. Then something falls out of the hole toward us. We scatter, taking shelter behind whatever we can find.
The thing lands in the center of the hall. At first it looks like an enormous ball of iron. Then it unfolds itself and stands up. It’s a man, but not one of flesh and blood. This one is made of metal. He stands as tall as the surrounding statues. Like Talos, the great bronze giant made by the god Hephaestus to protect the island of Crete, he is somehow alive. He turns his head, and I see his eyes blazing blue with the same light that fills the hall.
I look at Boone, who is staring at the metal man in amazement. “Holy Isaac Asimov,” he says. “It’s a robot.”
Boone
The thing I’m looking at shouldn’t exist outside of a story in Astounding Science Fiction. The robot—and I’m absolutely sure it’s a robot—looks very much like I’ve always pictured they would. Only this thing is real, and it’s looking at me. Well, if the two glowing blue things in its face are eyes, it is. Probably they’re sensors of some kind. I’m so fascinated by it that I almost forget that I’m supposed to be fighting it.
Then it raises one giant hand and points a finger at me. Its fingers have openings in them, and I’m not about to wait around to see what comes o
ut of them. I run to my left and dive behind the giant stone head sitting there. I’m just in time, too. Seconds later, a blast of something hits my hiding place. I don’t know what it is—electricity, maybe, or some kind of sonic wave—but it’s powerful. The head cracks, splitting down the center, and the two halves roll aside, leaving me exposed.
The giant robot has turned its attention to Cassandra. Instead of running from it, though, she does the opposite, and races toward it, still holding the length of wood she found in the sand earlier. It’s exactly the right thing to do. The robot is powerful, but it’s also big and clumsy. Cassandra zigzags, so it can’t draw a bead on her. She runs directly under its legs. At first, I don’t understand what she’s going to do with the wood. Then I see her jam it into one of the robot’s leg joints. It goes deep.
But this is not a flesh and blood thing. Her attack would have easily disabled an animal or human. The robot just takes a step, splintering the wood as though it’s nothing. It swivels, following Cassandra as she runs toward me, and this time I see the blast come from its fingers. Blue light erupts and sizzles through the air. It clips Cassandra, who is still running a jagged pattern, and she spins around from the force of it. She falls to the ground, twitching. The robot takes a step toward her and keeps coming. It means to crush her beneath its huge feet.
I’d love nothing more than to see her turned to jelly under the giant’s foot. But we need her piece of the key, and she might still be of use in this fight. So I run to her and grab her under the arms, dragging her away from the approaching robot. I find a spot behind some rubble and stop there. Cassandra is stirring, and she says, “The eyes.”
“What?” I ask.
“The eyes,” she repeats. “We need to take out the eyes. It’s one of the things the old woman told me.”
I leave her there and go back to confront the robot. Ari has beaten me to it. She’s standing in front of it, holding the metal ball in her hand. As I watch, she presses the button, and the red eye begins to blink red.
“Aim for its eyes!” I call to her.
She pulls back her arm and throws. The ball sails through the air. It arcs up and heads right for its target. It connects with the robot’s head. There’s a loud boom as it explodes. When the smoke and sparks die down, I see that the metal of the giant’s head is scorched in places, and one of its blue eyes has gone dark.
This gives me hope. If we can take out one eye so easily, surely we can take out the other and bring this thing down. Ari feels it too, and turns to me with a triumphant expression. She raises her fist as if defying the robot.
She doesn’t even see the burst from the thing’s hand, the gobs of what look like molten lava. I do, though, and I run to her and shove her out of the way. She falls, and a blob of liquid fire spatters against my chest. Immediately the cloth of my shirt dissolves. My skin is next. Although the shirt has taken the worst of it, there’s enough left to cover half of my chest in a tarry goo. It feels like I’ve been set on fire. Instinctively, I try to wipe it away, and only succeed in getting some on my hands, which also now start to burn.
I fall to the ground, burying my hands in the sand on the floor. This helps a little, but not enough. I grit my teeth and scream, trying to drive myself through the pain. I rub my burning hands together, hoping the sand will rub away whatever is on my skin. It does, but it takes a lot of my skin with it, leaving my hands raw and bleeding.
The robot is moving again, walking with slow, thunderous steps in my direction. Ari is on her feet. “Run!” she yells, and I do, dodging to the right and heading along one side of the hall while Ari does the same on the other. The robot can’t aim at both of us at once, and it chooses to try for Ari. More of the fiery gunk shoots from its hands, splattering against the wall just above her head. She keeps going.
The hopefulness I was feeling a moment ago is gone. I have no idea how we’re going to fight this thing. It’s massive, and practically impossible to hurt without the right weapons. The only one we had, we’ve now used, and while it worked, the robot isn’t slowing down. I don’t know how we’re going to take out its other eye, or what will happen if we do. For all I know, the thing will just keep shooting until it kills us all.
Cassandra appears, looking a little groggy but standing. I run to her. “What else did the old woman tell you about how to stop it?”
She looks at my chest, at the raw, singed flesh and the black gum dripping down my torso. I think I see a corner of her mouth lift in a smile. She doesn’t answer my question, just runs toward the robot. She picks up speed as she goes, and when she vaults off a piece of rock, using her hands to push off, she flies through the air, tumbling and landing on the robot’s outstretched arm. She scales it and leaps onto its shoulder, then begins hammering at its remaining eye with a stone in her hand.
The metal giant reaches up and flicks her away as easily as a horse brushing off a biting fly. Cassandra once more is flying through the air, but without any grace. Her arms and legs flail, and when she hits one of the statues flanking the hall, she crumples. All the strength in the world can’t stop the mechanical monster.
Now that it’s shown us that there’s little we can do against it, the robot seems determined to finish us off. It picks up a chunk of stone, and hurls it at Ari. She ducks away just in time, and the stone makes a crater in the wall behind her. The robot keeps picking up rocks and throwing them, forcing her to run back toward me. Chunks of wall and statue fly through the air with each hit.
The thing switches from throwing rocks to blasting us with more of the burning tar. Ari and I take cover as it sprays everywhere, turning the hall into an inferno. Cassandra is still unconscious on the ground, and somehow she isn’t hit by any of it. But it’s only a matter of time until she is.
Now I understand exactly how people felt during the war when they were trapped in their houses during bombing raids. They didn’t know exactly when they would be hit, but they knew it was coming. It’s a horrible feeling, being helpless, but I can’t think of a single thing to do against the robot. It’s a mechanical nightmare, relentless, its only purpose to kill us, even if it destroys the entire hall to do it.
Ari and I prepare to make one last attempt at stopping the thing. She holds a broken knife in her one working hand, while I pick up an arrow and grip it tightly. I know it’s ridiculous, but if we’re going to die, we’re going to die fighting.
“Hey!” a voice calls out. “Over here, you blockhead!”
I look toward the voice. Standing in one of the doorways is Hicks. His face is bloated and purple, the same color as Ari’s arm. He’s swaying on his feet, and he looks as if he’ll fall over at any second. Yet somehow he manages to stagger into the hall, right in the path of the robot. He stands there, rocking back and forth. There’s something in his hand.
I run over to my friend. Despite everything, I’m happy to see him alive. When he sees me, he grins. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “I kinda got lost.”
There’s no time to ask him how he got here. The robot is preparing to attack, raising its arms. Hicks turns his attention back to it. He raises his own hand, and I see that the thing in it is a makeshift slingshot he’s somehow cobbled together from a forked stick and a piece of rubber tubing.
“You walk far enough in this place, you find all kinds of things,” he says as he stoops to pick up a rock. He places it against the rubber band.
“You have to hit it in—”
“The eye,” he says. “I figured that out.”
He aims at the robot, pulls his arm back, and lets go. The rock flies straight and true. It connects with the giant’s remaining eye, which explodes. Hicks turns to me, triumphant. “Just like shooting cans off a stump back home.”
He’s looking at me, so he doesn’t see the robot stumbling forward, falling. He doesn’t see it as it comes down, its massive hand outstretched. I do see it, and I rush toward Hicks, forgetting everything except that he is my best friend. But I can tell there’s not enough t
ime to get there and push him out of the way, so I yell, “Move!”
He doesn’t. Instead, he turns just in time to see the hand before it hits him. When it does, he falls beneath it, crushed. I kneel down beside him. Blood is dribbling from his mouth, and the light in his eyes is quickly fading.
“Guess old Goliath didn’t like me taking him down,” he says. He tries to laugh, and blood sprays from his lips.
I never imagined saying good-bye to my best friend like this. I reach out and touch Hicks’s face. The skin is cold and slick with sweat.
“Promise me something,” he whispers.
“What’s that?” I ask him.
“Don’t let that Minoan get whatever this thing is guarding. Okay?”
“Sure,” I tell him. “I won’t.”
Hicks smiles. “Knew you weren’t a traitor,” he says. “See ya, Boone.”
His eyes close. He breathes one last time, then he’s gone.
Ari has come over. I stand up and put my arm around her. I see her looking at Hicks’s mottled face, wondering if her turn is coming next. The poison is making its way through her veins, farther up her arm. I can sense her exhaustion. Whatever is going to happen next, we need to finish it, and soon. “Let’s check on Cassandra,” I say.
I turn to look for her, and she’s right behind me, holding a rock in her hand. “Sorry, Cahokian,” she says as she brings the rock up toward the side of my head. “I need to speak with my sister. Alone.”
Ariadne
“You don’t look well, sister.”
Cassandra drops the rock she’s just used to knock Boone out. At first I think she might have killed him. But his ruined chest is still rising and falling. Of the three of us, only Cassandra appears more or less unscarred, although I know the blow from the mechanical man must have hurt her badly.
She reaches into the pocket of her pants and pulls something out. She holds out her palm. On it is her piece of the key. “You have yours.”
It is not a question. She knows that I do, that I would not have gone through all of this if I did not.
