Rivers of Fire (Atherton, Book 2)

by Patrick Carman

  "This way," said Samuel, waving Isabel toward a second set

  42

  of stairs. At the bottom was a torch burning softly, and Samuel took it from its hold and carried it up the steps. They turned left at the top, and Samuel stood before the door to Lord Phineus's private room. To the right of the door sat a square box made of wood with a leafy green plant inside.

  "We need to move that," said Samuel.

  "How do you know?" asked Isabel.

  "My father told me." He glanced at Isabel and saw that she was surprised. "He used to show me all sorts of secrets about this place before ..."

  There was a long pause in which the two looked awkwardly at each other.

  "Before what?" asked Isabel.

  Samuel stepped away from the wooden box he'd been trying to move. "A year ago he fell from the Highlands, back when there was a Highlands to fall from."

  "I'm sorry," said Isabel.

  Samuel shrugged and took hold of the box once more. It was full of dirt and very heavy, so Isabel came alongside and helped.

  "Whose door is this?" asked Isabel, glancing up as they scooted the heavy box across the floor. She didn't like the dark look of it. The door appeared to be made of black wood, and there was a long crack down the middle that looked like a vein with blood running through it, as if the door were alive in the dancing flames of night.

  "It's Lord Phineus's private room," said Samuel, trying to

  43

  move the box with one hand while he held the torch. He was not making much progress.

  "I don't want to go in there," said Isabel, backing away. Samuel stopped trying to move the wooden box and looked at Isabel. It was unusual to see her lose her confidence.

  "We're not going inside. There are things hidden here, things we need."

  "Who hid them?"

  There wasn't time to explain everything about his father -- about how he had stood against Lord Phineus and paid a terrible price--so he offered only a little of his father's legend.

  "My father hid these things when he became suspicious of the others," said Samuel. "He didn't trust Lord Phineus or Sir Emerik. He woke me late one night and showed them to me, in case anything ever happened to him, in case Lord Phineus tried to hurt me or my mother."

  Isabel moved back toward Samuel.

  "Why would he hide something there?" she said. "It's right in front of his door."

  "My father was fond of hiding things right beneath people's noses. He thought it was the last place Lord Phineus would look. I hope he was right."

  Isabel moved Samuel out of the way with one arm, then took the edge of the wooden box in her hands and slid it to the other side of the door.

  "Hold this," said Samuel, giving Isabel the torch and kneeling down. The wall was made of stone blocks of two sizes. The

  44

  larger stones were about the size of the box Isabel had just moved, but interspersed between those were smaller ones, the size of Samuel's hand. He took hold of one of the smaller stones and tried to jiggle it free.

  "I'm sure this is the one," said Samuel. "It has to be."

  Isabel knelt down next to Samuel, holding the flame closer. The stone Samuel was gripping didn't look like it was at all loose.

  "Are you sure about this?" asked Isabel. "I mean, did you actually see your father put something here, or did he just tell you it was here?"

  "I saw it," answered Samuel. "It was dark when he showed it to me, but I'm sure this is the one."

  "Stand back," said Isabel. Samuel looked up, confused and irritated. Isabel thrust the torch back into his hand and walked quickly, almost to the end, where a window looked over the House of Power. When she turned back, Isabel had her sling in hand, already loaded with a black fig.

  "Move to the side, and hold that torch near the mark," said Isabel. She began swinging the sling over her head, the circle it made in the air barely fitting into the width of the hall. It made a wonderful sound, a whirling echo that grew faster and faster down the deep length of the passage.

  "You can't throw one of those in here," said Samuel, alarm rising in his voice. He was about to insist that she put the weapon away when he heard a snap! and then a crash as the black fig hit the stone wall. It ricocheted off the floor, up to

  45

  the ceiling, and back through the hall toward Isabel. She ducked and the fig zipped past her head, then flew out the window.

  "That made a lot of noise," said Samuel. "Someone might have heard."

  Isabel peeked her dark brow around the corner of the window and saw the various lights aflame in the courtyard. It didn't seem to her that anyone had noticed the sound, although people were moving away from the wall now, returning to where they'd come from.

  "Better make it fast," said Isabel. "See if it worked." She had the feeling that someone might have been stationed near the main chamber, someone who would probably return any moment.

  Samuel knelt down with the torch and examined the small square stone. The black fig had hit it dead center and left behind a spiderweb crack.

  "You're a really good shot with that thing," said Samuel as Isabel came up beside him. "I hope you never have a reason to use it on me."

  Isabel smiled vaguely. She liked being praised for her strength, especially by older boys who thought that girls were weak.

  Soon the shards of the broken stone were removed, and they found three items hidden inside a hollow. Samuel quickly put all of them in his pocket, and then they both struggled to get the wooden box back in place. The two moved cautiously down the stairs, hugging the wall as they went.

  46

  a No one had arrived yet at the door to the main chamber.

  Samuel took out of his pocket the first of the four things his father had hidden for him. It was a key made for unlocking thedoor to the main chamber. It worked beautifully, and when the two were safely inside Samuel breathed a sigh of relief.

  "No one comes in here uninvited," he said. "We're alone now, only we need to put this torch back where we got it. Someone will see it's missing."

  The two searched the chamber and quickly found a second, unlit torch against one of the ivy-covered walls. Samuel touched the end and found it was moist with fuel. After lighting it, he sent Isabel quietly to return the one they'd been using.

  While she was out of the room, Samuel wondered if he should tell Isabel everything his father had told him. He looked at the objects in his hand. One was another key, oddly shaped; another was a weapon, sharp but small; and the last was a folded piece of paper. He slipped all three items back in his pocket.

  When Isabel returned she shut the door but neglected to lock it, rushing back to Samuel's side.

  "We're okay," she said. "No one saw me." She turned her attention to the statue before them. It was the head of a man, made of a white sort of stone, sitting on a pedestal. Isabel thought the man had big ears.

  "What's that say?" she asked. Isabel couldn't read the name etched into the white stone.

  "Mead," said Samuel.

  "Who's Mead?"

  47

  Isabel hadn't heard a name like that before and it made her nervous.

  "I don't know," said Samuel. "But I think we're about to find out."

  He took hold of the head as his father had shown him when the two had secretly come to the main chamber in the deep quiet of a past night. He was reminded of how his father had stood next to him, guiding smaller hands. A hot feeling welled up in his throat. Memory had a special way of hurting sometimes.

  "Do you need some help?" asked Isabel.

  "No!" he shouted, surprising himself and Isabel. "My father showed me how. I can do it."

  "No one's going to come in here, like you said," offered Isabel. "Whatever it is you're doing can take as long as you need."

  Something clicked on the floor behind the two, and Isabel swiveled around. "What was that?"

  Samuel stepped in front of her and pointed to the floor amid the twisting ivy. "It will take b
oth of us to remove the cover, but it's unlocked."

  "What's unlocked?" asked Isabel. Dread was rising in her voice as she stood next to Samuel, staring down at the tangled web of ivy that parted over a space not much wider than her head. Samuel knelt down, pushing the creeping ivy aside, and revealed the door leading to Mead's Hollow.

  "The source of water is somewhere behind this opening," said Samuel. "My father told me how to find it." Samuel pulled

  48

  the slip of folded paper from his pocket. "He wrote it down for me, so I could find my way."

  There was a sound coming from outside the door, as if someone wearing heavy boots were approaching. Samuel shot a glance past Isabel's head.

  "You locked the door, right?" He didn't think anyone would try to enter, but with Lord Phineus and Sir Emerik away, maybe someone would be so bold as to try. Isabel shook her head no.

  The two went directly to work lifting the stone slab, frantic but careful to stay as silent as they could. Isabel was sure she did not want to make the journey to the source of water, but it was a place to hide, at least for a moment.

  The sound of boots on stone stopped outside the door to the main chamber, then seemed to move from side to side, as if the person outside were unsure about trying to enter. A soft knock came on the door.

  "Lord Phineus? Are you in there?"

  It was Tyler, who was actually hoping not to find anyone. He thought he'd heard a strange scraping sound coming from behind the door, but he couldn't be sure. He hadn't slept in a long time. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him.

  Samuel and Isabel had already started down the steps leading into Mead's Hollow when Tyler put his hand on the latch to the door. Samuel crouched on the fourth step with the torch in one hand, while Isabel sat above him on the second step.

  "Close it!" he whispered harshly.

  Isabel slid it across the floor until it clicked into place. But the clicking sound sent panic rising within her and she tried to

  49

  push up, regretting the decision she'd made. Suddenly, she didn't care if she was caught; she only wanted to make sure she could get out. Isabel pressed all of her weight against the stone above her, but it would not budge.

  "Please, Isabel," whispered Samuel. "Be quiet. There are things down here you don't want to wake up."

  Isabel turned to Samuel, the whites of her eyes wide and shining in the flame. She had been scared before, but never like this.

  Tyler was surprised to find the door to the main chamber unlocked. He was also apprehensive about going inside and called out instead. "Is that you, Sir Emerik?"

  No sound came from inside, and Tyler slowly peered around the corner of the door into the room, holding a flame into the air before him. There was no one, only the dark empty space of the main chamber and the window behind it. He ran his hand over his forehead and felt a cold sweat. Through the window he heard a commotion at the wall. Joseph had returned, and with him news of whatever Horace had wanted him to see.

  Tyler closed the door and ran for the stairs, hoping the night would somehow come under his control as he made for the wall below.

  50

  ** CHAPTER 7 DAWN BREAKS ON A CHANGED WORLD

  By the time Tyler raced down the stairs and through the courtyard, everyone had returned to the wall where the giant doors stood secure to hear what Horace had to say. Tyler could already hear his unbearable, booming voice. For a man like Tyler, left in command of a great many things and losing control of them all, it was a maddening sound.

  "Don't anyone touch that door!" he howled on his approach. He went immediately up the narrow steps to the top of the wall and looked outside. Joseph had indeed returned.

  "Open the doors!" cried Horace into his cupped hands with a bellow that felt like it would blow Tyler's hair back or knock him clean off the wall.

  "Shut up, Horace! I can't take any more!" Tyler declared. He had been holding a rock in his hands, squeezing it as his

  51

  nerves frayed, and without thinking he threw the stone hard and fast. Tyler was not a terribly good shot, and the stone, which was about the size of his fist, went right past Horace and hit the horse instead. The horse bucked into the air, then jerked the rope out of Joseph's hand and bolted into the darkness.

  Horace watched the horse run away, then turned back to Tyler. "You must come out of the House of Power!"

  Joseph put a hand on Horace's shoulder, asking him to please stop for a moment. He understood what Horace was doing, but he was just about as tired of hearing Horace yell as Tyler was.

  "Horace is right, Tyler," Joseph said to the man standing above him, speaking in an even tone. "We have to leave this place, and quickly."

  Tyler was resolved to keep his post---to make Sir Emerik proud of him and hold the House of Power from its enemies -- but if others wanted to leave, he knew he couldn't make them stay. He didn't have the sort of authority that would force them to obey out of fear or respect. Who could have guessed things would have unraveled as they had in the middle of the night, and so quickly?

  The group that had remained in the House of Power since the Highlands had fallen into Tabletop was comprised almost entirely of young men without families, along with a handful of women without husbands or children. Two of these men removed the beam that secured the doors, swinging them open. Everyone but Tyler streamed out and stood before Joseph and Horace in a circle three deep.

  52

  It was there that they were told the Highlands were sinking into Atherton.

  Horace laid out the plans of where they were going and why, along with his conviction that the Highlands might very well be inescapable by morning. He was emphatic in his argument that the people in Tabletop could be trusted, and he explained how Lord Phineus had tried but failed to poison everyone in the three villages beneath the waterfalls.

  Some in the group were not entirely convinced they should leave the safety of the fortress or that they could ally with the people of Tabletop. Among them were some of the guards-- their lungs still tight from coughing--who had been hit with black figs and orange dust in the recent confrontation with the villagers. But their fears were overshadowed by the thought of being trapped in a sinking prison of walls and darkness. The very idea of it was haunting.

  "We must take as much food and water as we can carry from inside," said Horace.

  "What if we run out of water? What then?" asked one of the guards.

  "We no doubt choose between the lesser of two evils," said Horace. "Stay here and sink into oblivion, or leave and risk a shortage of water."

  And then Horace said something no one had expected.

  "A falling Highlands may mean rising water. It's possible we could build a new basket system that can be lowered into the abyss to attain water. Better to be dipping into a giant well than be stuck at the bottom of one."

  53

  Few had thought of this possible eventuality. The idea of a dark, watery grave was universally terrifying.

  "What of the horses?" asked the man who'd been watching over them. Many of the horses were kept in a stable outside the House of Power, but there were ten or more inside, held at the inner stable on the other side of the courtyard.

  "If you want them to live, you'll need to get them out," said Horace.

  But the time for getting horses or anything else out of the House of Power had passed, for as the group turned back to retrieve horses and supplies, they saw the doors slamming shut. There was a mad dash toward the closed doors as Tyler lifted one end of the timber and dropped it into place. Then he darted to the other end of the timber, hefting it into the air with all his might as the crowd outside barreled forward and crashed into the doors. One of the doors began to swing open, but Tyler pushed hard against the beam of wood and wedged it tightly, locking himself inside.

  He could hear the sound of angry voices outside, but it was muffled from where he stood, and this gave him a small measure of satisfaction. He backed away fr
om the doors, so very hungry and tired, and walked unsteadily into the courtyard until he could hear the voices no more.

  ***

  And so it was that while Sir Emerik, Lord Phineus, Samuel, and Isabel descended into Mead's Hollow, a fourth village sprang

  54

  up on Atherton. On the far side of the Highlands, as far away from the other villages of Tabletop as could be managed, there came into existence the Village of Horses. The village was comprised of all the people from the Highlands along with the horses that could be found outside of the House of Power. When the last of the horses leaped for the edge, the Highlands were a full five feet below Tabletop.

  An hour later dawn was about to break on Atherton. Everyone in the Village of Horses stood at the edge looking down at their old home, filled with dread as they considered the day that lay before them. The Highlands were almost twenty feet beneath them now, and they could actually see them moving down ever so slowly, a gurgling, grinding noise coming from under their feet.

  There was something at once beautiful and terrible about seeing their home collapse. It was a lonely place to look at in the coming light of morning, deep shadows casting over a once superior realm. And yet the House of Power had never before been seen from above, and it was a magnificent thing to behold with its gleaming white stone walls and green gardens, its rising turrets and winding staircases. From above it had the appearance of a magical, stately place being overcome by an evil darkness.

  "What will become of us?" asked Gill of no one in particular.

  "That all depends on the choices we make," said Horace, who stood nearby. "It's a brand-new day, a chance to set things right."

  55

  Gill scanned the line of trees that surrounded the Highlands. They had once stood high and mighty around him--forty feet or more--but soon he would be staring down at their tops. He turned to say something to Horace and saw that he had moved off and was staring toward the far edge of Atherton with a troubled look on his face.