The Ryle of Zentule

by Michael Green

  Letty sighed and tried to eat.

  At least I know what Andy was doing before that day at the optometrist, but I don’t know what happened to him after.

  Eventually, Mr. Holt returned. He still looked too damp to have only suffered a polite mishap. He sat down and glowered at them for what felt like ages. Letty could barely stomach half of her pizza before the bell rang.

  She rushed her tray to the cafeteria before getting to her next class. The rest of the day went by slowly, but she finally had a plan.

  When school was out, she went to the park and found Staza and Quill being spoken to by a police officer. Startled, she rushed over.

  “Look, you can’t be fighting in the park. I don’t care if it was only with sticks, you could hurt someone or yourselves. If you have to busk, maybe try juggling or playing an instrument. I don’t want to see this again, all right?” the officer finished. Gratefully, it was well-intentioned chastisement.

  They agreed, and the officer continued down the path.

  Letty tried not to grin.

  He was on them about play fighting with sticks and not truancy.

  However, after another look at her friends, she could see why he made that mistake. Something about their bearing made them seem older than just their looks implied.

  “Letty!” Staza said, pleased to see her.

  “The surface is a strange place. Apparently, sparring in an open space is in breach of your code of conduct,” Quill said judgmentally.

  “I thought those people were watching us though. They even dropped their money on our jackets.”

  “You made money again?” Letty asked, surprised.

  Staza held out a handful of small bills and coins for Letty, who laughed in astonishment.

  “Making money isn’t usually this easy, but, come on—we should get something to eat. I’m starving. Also, I’ve learned a few new details, and we need a plan.”

  Letty took them to a diner famous for its hamburgers. Of secondary appeal was its large, open patio.

  Only a few people sitting outside. This is good, we’ll have some privacy.

  After confusion at the counter, Letty ordered for all of them. They stepped outside with a tray of hamburgers and a second of French fries.

  “It smells—interesting,” Staza remarked as they sat at a shaded table.

  Letty ran back in to grab the drinks.

  Better just get tea; they probably won’t like anything too sugary.

  Returning, she noticed nervous expressions on the Caspians. She hoped they wouldn’t hate the food.

  “Extraordinary,” Quill said, daintily eating a fistful of fries.

  “One at a time,” Letty said, trying not to grin.

  Quill leaned back from the table as he considered a fry. He watched as a business man walked away from the restaurant, unwrapped a burger, and took a bite.

  He grimaced. “Walking while eating? Can’t you see the ingrained haste of your civilization? Look at this hamburger for instance,” he lifted his burger, “The elements of food bundled into a self-contained package. What is this?” He picked up a bun and flopped it back and forth.

  “That’s the bun,” Letty said, a wry look on her face.

  “You see! That’s exactly my point.” He nibbled on the bun before continuing, “This tasteless hunk of baked dough was designed only to make the mobility of the hamburger possible; it detracts from its flavor.”

  “Eat the damn thing, Quill,” Staza said, after a bite of her own.

  Quill did so, and his face lit up.

  “Well—contrivance of haste or not, it has appeal.”

  Staza took a sip of her drink. “What is this?” she asked.

  “Iced tea,” Letty said.

  “Mhh, we have tea as well. Though I’ve never had it served over ice before. It’s refreshing,” she said, pleasantly surprised.

  It’s like they prepared for disappointment. Letty smiled, trying not to rush through her food.

  They enjoyed a few quiet minutes. Quill spoiled it by claiming the noise of the street was an adulteration of the sound of flowing water. A car horn blared, only triggering a wave of honking from aggravated drivers. The Caspians both shot from their seats, but, after Letty explained, they enjoyed the rest of their meal in relative calm.

  “The way I see it, we have two problems,” Letty said, pushing her tray away. “First, we need to figure out how Andy got into the Netherscape, or failing that we need to find a different entrance. Afterwards, we need to learn where he is in the Netherscape.”

  Quill and Staza both agreed.

  “I’ve learned from Andy’s friend that they visited a certain art gallery, before I saw him at the optometrist.”

  “Andy has allies here?” Quill asked. “We should work together.”

  “No, that’s not a good idea,” Letty said, thinking about how Dean responded to her. “He would slow us down.”

  “This is good news! We have a lead now,” Staza said.

  Letty nodded and continued, “I will do everything I can to find out how we can get back. Just remember, that once we’re there, I’ll go back to being useless. You two will have to figure out where they have Andy, assuming he’s still…”

  There was silence.

  “Look, Andy is valuable to them. He’s still alive; I’m sure of it. And you aren’t useless,” Quill laughed. “With the Argument, you’re a better fighter than the pair of us.”

  That made Letty feel better.

  “We talked about it,” Staza said, looking at Quill, “and we should try to find the exact portal Andy used. A different portal will likely lead to other parts of the Netherscape.”

  “What do you mean, other parts?” Letty asked. “You mentioned it last night, but I didn’t have time to ask.”

  “Well, the Netherscape doesn’t work like the surface. There are dozens of Netherscape domains, but you can’t just walk from one to the next. There are a few paths that allow travel by sailing or airship, but the fastest way to travel is to take a portal, and preferably a safe one,” Quill explained.

  “Last night we took a potentially unsafe portal,” Staza added.

  Quill nodded before continuing, “We come from Pansubprimus, but there are many other domains, some of which we know next to nothing about.”

  Letty wasn’t happy to hear this.

  “Well, why do you call it the Netherscape then, if all these pieces aren’t even connected?” Letty asked, a little annoyed.

  “At one time they were connected. The Axiomatic wars took their toll on the Netherscape, far more than the surface. Despite where it stands today, the Argument was the stronger side for centuries,” Quill said.

  “Andy could be in any of the other Netherscape domains,” Letty said, coming to grips with the new facts. “Do the ryle control all of them?”

  Quill scowled. “No. Some of the domains are inhospitable to all living things, even the ryle.”

  “Well, even if we find the right portal, that doesn’t mean Andy will be in Pan—what? Pan-prime?”

  “Right, he’s with Ziesqe, who I imagine can go anywhere he likes.” Quill said.

  “How the hell are we going to figure out where he is? We can’t just walk up to a ryle and ask, ‘Hey do you know Ziesqe?’”

  “We might learn something if we go back. Maybe we can ask our Mistress,” Staza said.

  “We can’t risk going back to Caspia right away. Maybe in a week or so,” Quill said.

  “But we need to do something now! We’re wasting time, and who knows what they’re doing to him!” Letty said.

  Staza and Quill shared a sad look.

  They think it’s impossible.

  Letty sighed and let her head fall into her hands. Her hair tumbled over her face.

  “Letty,” Staza stood and put a hand on her shoulder, “anything could have happened. But no matter what, we’re going to search with you. Right?” she asked Quill.

  “Of course. We owe him that much at least.”


  Letty stood and went to throw the trash away. She put the trays on top of the bin, before turning to her friends with a small smile. “I appreciate it. Let’s go to the gallery.”

  Letty texted her parents and let them know that she would be home late, before finding the route to the museum on her phone.

  “We’ll take the subway, and remember, it’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  At the station, Letty bought tickets for the Caspians, and had her own subway pass ready. Quill and Staza followed close behind, and she navigated the crowds and serpentine tunnels with the skill of a native. They arrived at their platform with a minute to spare.

  Letty noticed that Staza and Quill were on edge, clearly nervous, and likely claustrophobic. The crush of people was oppressive. Their eyes shifted from person to person, and she noticed their hands resting above what she expected were hidden daggers.

  It’s not even that busy, but they’re freaking out. I should do something.

  “It’s okay, just hold my hand,” Letty said, reaching out and taking both of their hands.

  Quill and Staza seemed offended, but patronizing them had the desired effect. The shame of it calmed them.

  The train arrived, and they jostled onto a car. Quill and Staza both took the opportunity to free their hands. They stood near the door.

  “Grab hold,” Letty said hurriedly, as the train accelerated.

  Quill and Staza were both quick on their feet. They stood firm, though their nervous expressions returned.

  “We are in an underworld, but it’s the surface’s underworld. And you can just come and go? No, there was a machine gatekeeper,” Quill wondered loudly enough to attract attention.

  “The subway is for transportation. Think of it as a huge car on tracks. But because there are so many people in the city, it’s always crowded,” Letty whispered.

  “A crowded underground road,” Quill muttered to himself, his eyes still darting from face to face. “Fantastic.”

  After a few stops, a busker came on board with a saxophone. Staza and Quill couldn’t help but stare.

  Great. Don’t make eye contact, or he’ll come over here.

  Letty nudged them, but it was too late; the fellow was on his way over.

  He played to Quill and Staza’s fascination. Staza opened her bag, and to Letty’s surprise pulled out a sketch pad. She started a quick drawing of the man in pencil. He was wearing a heavily patched sports coat over a green button up shirt, as well as jeans also covered in patches and various logos.

  He played the theme songs from a few television shows she knew.

  He’s not bad.

  Letty held out a few dollars, and the man accepted them.

  “God bless you,” he said, pleased that they were entertained.

  “Hold on,” Staza said, ripping the page out and handing it to him.

  The man was taken aback when he saw the drawing. He rustled around in a pocket and found a safety pin. He pinned the page to the front of his coat.

  “I’m wearing this today, but tonight it goes up on the fridge. Thank you, young lady.” He walked off and readied his instrument for another song.

  A moment later, they heard him playing in the next car.

  “So, this is how your society works. People trade performances,” Quill said, fascinated.

  “Well,” Letty wanted to disagree, but, after some pondering, she couldn’t disagree. “Maybe it is. Sometimes the performance, or service, is making food, or teaching a class, or playing music for just three people on the subway.”

  The train stopped, and Letty realized this was their station just before the doors closed.

  “Come on!” she said, grabbing the Caspians and rushing.

  They made it off, though a conductor on the platform blew his whistle and pointed disapprovingly their way.

  “Sorry, I haven’t been to this stop before,” Letty said.

  They took the stairs outside and walked the few blocks to the museum.

  “Andy came here with Dean, not too long ago. I think he had his sight at the time, and we need to keep an eye out for anything that he might have seen. Titus told me that a few paintings contain messages only people like us can see.”

  “We’re Sensates, Letty, or Seers, depending on who you ask,” Staza said.

  “Seers, right,” Letty said, with a strange feeling. “Titus told me that places like this are trapped and patrolled by ryle, or their servants. This time around we can’t depend on Titus to keep us out of trouble.”

  “Keep us out of trouble?” Quill repeated.

  “Yes. The mice also patrolled museums to keep an eye out for young Seers, like us, and to help us avoid the traps. Sadly, it’s hard to do that as a talking mouse. Titus did his best, but I still got snagged. That’s how all this started.”

  “Of course,” Quill said, annoyed at his forgetfulness, “that was their purpose in the first place.”

  “Wait,” Staza interjected, rooting through her bag. “We spent some of that money today.”

  “I noticed. That bag is new, and your sketch pad too. I didn’t know that you drew,” Letty said.

  “I don’t really, ah—here they are,” Staza produced three pairs of dark sunglasses. “These should hide our eyes.”

  Letty was impressed.

  Such an obvious solution.

  They put their sunglasses on and walked into the Masters.

  “I hope it works, because we look ridiculous,” Letty muttered, as they were waved past the line by a guard, after he had seen Letty’s student ID.

  A kindly old lady gave them a map as they passed her stool.

  In the first hall they visited, Letty spotted distracting and bright colors on a painting.

  “There’s one,” she whispered.

  They slowed and looked.

  The canvas featured people dancing. One dancer, a man in a pinstripe suit and trilby hat, stood out. The stripes on his suit shone in the bright colors that Letty associated with the Infiniteye.

  “Are you seeing that? His clothes are like nothing else,” Letty said, nudging Staza.

  “Yes, but look at the frame,” Staza replied.

  Letty felt her skin crawl at the sight of grasping tendrils, which she hadn’t noticed until Staza’s warning.

  The frame undulated with dark purple trim. Tendrils lined up with the carved motifs of the actual frame underneath. She realized the tendrils were moving, and they were moving slowly towards her, stopping about a few feet from where they were rooted.

  Letty felt her stomach sink. She was suddenly paranoid. Staza nudged her away, and they moved on. Though Letty couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had seen them stare for too long at the painting of the dancers.

  As they walked through the hall, she looked back and noticed that the tendrils moved to stay pointing at them.

  That’s how the first painting got me; I was too close.

  Letty sighed and then said, “That painting was trapped, but I didn’t see a message for us.”

  “Not every artist set out to put secret words in their work,” Quill whispered as they moved through a crowded room.

  A picture of water lilies also shone with a brilliance that made it feel like the pond was trembling beneath a wind.

  “Like that,” Quill continued. “The painter has used pigment that only we can see, but he may never have realized that other people couldn’t experience it the way he intended.”

  The idea astonished Letty. How could a painter not know that he was a Seer? She looked at the painting in wonder. Well, I didn’t know until recently. What if nobody told me? Maybe I would just think that I was a little different.

  They walked into the next hall and found it full of statuary. None of it stood out to Letty, but she began to doubt herself. What if I see something and I don’t realize it’s different?

  “You aren’t seeing anything?” she asked.

  “There are some marvelous pieces, but nothing for us,” Staza said.

 
Quill considered a statue of a man chained to a rock. A large bird of prey stooped over him, and a fallen torch burned nearby.

  “Prometheus, punished for that most egregious sin,” he said, looking up for an answer.

  Letty drew a blank.

  “He defied the gods and gave mankind forbidden knowledge,” Staza finished, her expression chagrined.

  “You have mythology too?” Letty asked, remembering the story of Prometheus.

  Quill gave her a speculative look. “Of course. We share most of the same history, though a fair portion of it is suppressed up here.”

  “It’s suppressed down there too, Quill,” Staza rebutted.

  As they left the statuary, Staza grabbed Quill and Letty.

  “Careful, turn around,” she said quietly.

  Letty did so, but looked over her shoulder, and saw purple tendrils lining the doorway. A thin screen of mist also filled the doorway. She hadn’t seen it when they were approaching, and even now she could barely distinguish it.

  “Good catch,” Quill said, trying to slow his breath.

  “Nobody saw us turning around,” Staza said, motioning them down another hall.

  Letty’s paranoia and nervousness returned. She looked around and noticed the little black domes that hid security cameras.

  Maybe someone saw us. I shouldn’t alarm them, or should I?

  “Do you see those little black domes?”

  They both looked and nodded.

  “Guards can see us through those, on television screens, but there is no guarantee that someone is watching on the other end.”

  Quill and Staza stiffened, realizing the domes were everywhere.

  “I’m starting to think that we should get out of—” Letty paused as she saw something familiar.

  “I see it too,” Staza said, looking at a painting.

  Letty sat on a nearby bench.

  “There’s something there,” Quill said.

  “The sign of the Argument,” Staza whispered. “There on the drum.”

  Letty opened her backpack and found Andy’s notepad. The Caspian’s joined her on the bench as she flipped through the pages and found a rough sketch of this painting, followed by several abortive attempts to draw the Infiniteye. There were also a few words he had written, but they were from another language.