by Jake Halpern
Alfonso smiled and nodded appreciatively. He knew returning to Somnos was the right thing to do.
"Now, let's go to the house," said Hill. "It's time to rest—you and Bilblox have had a tough few days. We'll have a nice dinner, you'll see Resuza again, and I'll introduce you to my wife, Nance!"
It was Alfonso's turn to be surprised. "You're married?" he asked. Alfonso had assumed Uncle Hill was not the marrying type.
"A lot has happened in Somnos since you left," he said with a hesitant smile. "Lo and behold," added Hill exuberantly, "here is my wife now."
Hill's wife, Nance, emerged through the front door and skipped happily down to where her husband was standing. She was a beautiful woman, with hazel eyes, long brown hair that framed her sculptured face, and skin the color of copper. She looked far younger than Hill. If Alfonso had to guess, he would say that Nance was in her early thirties. Hill and Nance embraced passionately and Alfonso took a step back, rather awkwardly, trying to give them as much space as possible.
As he backed away and averted his eyes, Alfonso noticed a second figure emerge from the house. She was a young woman wearing an elegant saffron-colored dress. The fabric around the neck and arms was embroidered with purple and green vines. The young woman had luxuriant blond hair. She was tall—a good three or four inches taller than Alfonso—and was smiling mischievously. This smile triggered Alfonso's memory.
He was staring at Resuza.
Alfonso suddenly felt even more awkward. It had been three years since he saw her last. In that time, they had both grown up, but Resuza had transformed the most. She had become, well ... very pretty.
Resuza ran down to where Alfonso was standing and threw her arms around him. "You came back!" she exclaimed. "I knew you'd come back."
CHAPTER 12
DINNER AT THE FOREIGN MINISTER'S RESIDENCE
DINNER THAT EVENING was an elegant and sumptuous affair, as was the case with all of Hill's meals now that he was foreign minister. Alfonso, Bilblox, Resuza, Hill, and Nance all sat around a large circular table that dominated the second floor of the mansion. The wooden table groaned under the weight of the dishes and platters of food. In the middle lay ten different meat and fish dishes, festooned with skewers of fruit and surrounded by elegant arrangements of flowers. Arrayed in a semicircle around each plate were crystal glasses containing several types of sparkling juices. Torches made of a sweet-smelling amber wood flickered from limestone perches above them. In the corner of the dining hall sat a trio of harpsichordists playing music that sounded remarkably similar to a fast-flowing stream. Standing next to them were a dozen heavyset men, all fast asleep and snoring in perfect harmony. According to Hill, these men comprised the Royal Chorus of Snorers.
The snoring chorus was led by a pudgy, red-faced man with at least six chins. His name was Chrapać Głośno and his snoring was the loudest and most distinct. He would snore, then wheeze, then cough, then snuffle, then whistle through his nose, and finally both grunt and clatter his teeth simultaneously. This strange sequence set a rhythm for the other snorers, who provided a chorus of purrs and hisses to accompany him. Oddly enough, the overall effect was rather pleasing.
"Mr. Głośno comes from a long line of distinguished snorers," explained Hill. "His great-great-grandfather was also in the Royal Chorus of Snorers. He was a famous baritone. He snored so loudly that the army actually used him to help trigger avalanches. There is actually a long history of snorers..."
"Sweetie pie, let's not ruin dinner with a history lesson," said Nance softly. She yawned, as if just waking up from a long nap. "They've just arrived after a terrible journey. Let them eat and relax!"
Hill then changed the topic of conversation to a subject that Nance seemed to prefer—namely, herself. Nance, explained Hill, was a legendary singer in Somnos and she had married Hill shortly after the great Battle of Somnos, three years ago. Her marriage to Hill was considered somewhat scandalous, given that she was half Hill's age. Some said Nance had only married Hill because he had become a hero and the toast of the town. Hill knew of the rumors, of course, but he paid them no mind. He was fond of saying, "People are fools for the most part—and no one is more foolish than the fools who listen to the gossip of their fellow fools."
Out of the corner of his eye, Alfonso saw Resuza staring at him. Their first encounter a few hours ago had been strange. Upon seeing Alfonso walk up from the river, Resuza had run out of the house and thrown her arms around him. For those initial seconds, Alfonso felt elated. But once the hug came to an end, Alfonso felt unsure of what to say to her. Her beauty made him feel clumsy and uncertain. In the swirl of introductions and tours, they had said nothing more to each other.
"It's really quite a treat that Mr. Glosno is with us tonight," explained Nance. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "He's been quite ill."
"Nance!" Hill exclaimed.
Nance smiled. "Mr. Glosno had a period where he relapsed as a 'tired Dormian.'"
Alfonso nodded. This was the same problem Spack had had. For Dormians, it meant that they slept without doing anything at all, just like non-Dormians. It was considered to be a severe handicap.
"I had been warning him for years that this might happen," continued Nance. "All that stress, poor nutrition, and lack of exercise. Fortunately, it was temporary, and now he's back to his old form."
They all stared at Mr. Glosno as he snored in his pleasant manner. As if they knew that they were the object of attention, he and the Royal Chorus of Snorers delivered a rousing crescendo of snores that rattled the crystal glasses.
***
After dinner, they all climbed to the top-floor porch to drink Dormian herb tea as a digestive. They listened to the sounds of birds and other animals in the jungle while Hill talked about reconstruction efforts in Somnos and the remarkable changes brought on by the new Founding Tree.
"Excuse me, dear," said Nance at one point. "Are the guards at their stations? The jungle seems unusually noisy tonight."
"Yes, yes, yes, of course," replied Hill. He then turned toward Alfonso and Bilblox and explained: "You see, living so close to the jungle as we do, we have to be especially careful about the animals—the ants mainly—but other things as well. Of course there's nothing to worry about..."
"That's not exactly true, dear," said Nance. "You see, Hill insists on living in the country, but it really isn't entirely safe out here. A sugarcane plantation half a mile from here was overrun by ants just last month. Several people were terribly wounded, and one of them later died..."
"Yes," said Hill, "but they only had two anteaters, my dear."
"I'd prefer living in the city," Nance insisted. "It's so much safer there."
Hill sighed. Clearly, this was a recurring argument between him and Nance. Alfonso changed the subject and asked about Colonel Treeknot. Hill looked relieved to talk about something else. He explained that three years ago, she had distinguished herself in the Expeditionary Corps' mission to explore the Founding Tree's collapsing root system and to search for any lingering Dragoonya soldiers. In addition, she came from a distinguished Somnos family. Josephus was her uncle, and they were quite close.
"Why did they bother going down there?" asked Alfonso. "Didn't the entire root system eventually collapse? No one could have survived that."
"Sometimes the roots collapsed but left tunnels and caves in their place," Hill explained. "In other cases, the roots had taken the path of least resistance, and had filled naturally occurring caves. These places remained after the collapse of the roots and the Expeditionary Corps had to search every one, to make sure no Dragoonya remained. We couldn't take the chance of any Dragoonya skulking around the city. And as it turns out, we made the right decision."
"What do ya mean?" asked Bilblox.
"They captured Kiril alive," interjected Resuza.
"Kiril?" exclaimed Alfonso. Kiril was the Dragoonya's second in command, behind Nartam. He was an expert tracker and master swordsman who had stalked Alfonso during
his trip to Somnos three years ago. Alfonso had once seen Kiril fight off four men at once, ultimately killing all of them. Kiril had also slain General Loxoc, the head of the Dormian army. And like Nartam, Kiril was born Dormian and had turned against his own people.
"Don't worry," said Hill. "Kiril is in a specially constructed, maximum-security wing of the old prison."
Bilblox snorted. "You kiddin' me? You remember Kiril in Barsh-yin-Binder, or in the battle at the walls of Somnos? He's the best killer there is. You can't keep him in this city! Eventually, that fella'll find a way to wreak havoc."
"He has to stand trial," said Hill somewhat defensively. "We're an honorable society. We can't just execute him! Plus, what can one man do against an entire city of Dormians? He's guarded by two sets of soldiers, both awake and asleep."
Hill went on to explain that several weeks after the Battle of Somnos, Kiril had been captured in one of the semicollapsed root tunnels. "It was Colonel Treeknot who found him," explained Hill. "She and two of her knights discovered him sitting on a block of ice, with blood streaming from his head. He had a severe concussion and he was incoherent. No one knows how Kiril became injured, and he refused to say what happened. The fact is, he remained silent and uncooperative for the better part of three years until two months ago, when he suddenly started to talk. "
"Kiril's trial started a few weeks ago!" Nance exclaimed. "We can go to the court! Just think, the Great Sleeper confronts his enemy! Somnos will be all abuzz!"
Alfonso looked uneasily at Hill. He had no interest in seeing Kiril again.
"We'll see," Hill replied diplomatically. "Kiril is past history. There are other, more pressing issues at hand."
"Marcus Firment," whispered Nance with a mischievous smile. Apparently, this was a woman who thrived on gossip.
Hill nodded. "Three days ago, a Wanderer—one of an illustrious group that left thirty-six years ago—arrived at the main gate just before Great Wandering Day. When the Dormian knights found him, he was suffering from severe frostbite and hypothermia, and even though he was over six feet tall, he weighed less than a hundred pounds. He refused all help until he spoke with the Grand Vizier."
"What did Marcus Firment tell her?" asked Alfonso.
"That's the truly mysterious part," declared Nance. "No one knows except for the Grand Vizier and Hill, who was also there. But neither of them will breathe a word of what was said. You see what a killjoy I have for a husband!?"
"It's a sad business," said Hill quietly. "Soon after his arrival, Firment died from exposure."
Their conversation was interrupted by a loud snort from one of the anteaters. The gigantic animal was standing nearby and it was just barely possible to see its silhouette in the moonlight. Steam rose off its back. Everyone strained their eyes and peered into the darkness. Everyone except for Hill.
Instead, Hill glanced at Alfonso and gave silent thanks that his nephew was alive and well. Hill had been eagerly hoping that Alfonso would return to Somnos and he had been disappointed when his nephew failed to appear at the city's gates on the morning of Great Wandering Day. Later, when he rescued Alfonso from the downed airplane, Hill was overcome with a rare feeling: joy.
During the last three years in Somnos, Hill had achieved more than he ever dreamed possible when he had been a locksmith in Chicago. Hill had been made foreign minister of his homeland, married a famous singer, and lived in a beautiful mansion. He remained a national hero.
Still, something was amiss.
In recent months, Hill would sometimes wake in the middle of the night and find that he had sleepwalked all the way to the ancient cemetery in the Trunk District of Somnos, at the foot of the Founding Tree. He'd be standing at the moss-covered gravestones of his grandparents and parents. Next to them was also a gravestone for his younger brother, Leif, even though there was no body buried beneath the stone. Hill had insisted on this, as a way to honor the memory of his brother.
On other nights, Hill would wake and find himself in the Delirium Quarter of the city—a spooky and rat-infested area dominated by old warehouses. The Delirium Quarter was also home to Somnos's few pickpockets and criminals. On his excursions here, Hill typically awoke in front of a small, plain doorway. Engraved on the door was the curious symbol of a plant growing out of the spine of an open-faced book.
Once, Hill found that the door was open, and he climbed a narrow set of stairs leading to a warehouse filled with thousands of bronze canisters stacked in neat, orderly piles. The canisters looked like oversize tablets of aspirin. Two elderly men were picking up the canisters, inspecting them, and then restacking them one by one.
"What is this place?" asked Hill. The old men explained that this was the Arboreal Research Vault, a place containing rare tree and plant specimens. They came from all over the world, but especially from the Dormian cities and from Straszydlo Forest. The specimens, which were all stored in the bronze canisters, included strips of bark, sap, dried leaves, and seeds.
"Are you doing some kind of inventory?" asked Hill.
"Yes sir, Foreign Minister," replied one of the men. "You see, during the recent Battle of Somnos, it looks as if the Dragoonya raided the vault. Apparently some canisters are missing, but the records are bad and we're trying to figure out what or if anything was taken."
This made no sense. Why would the Dragoonya bother with this old warehouse? And why did Hill keep coming here in his sleep? There had to be a reason—there always was—but Hill couldn't decipher it.
In the last months, Hill felt as if his mind was becoming increasingly muddled. His attention span seemed to be diminishing. Even during his waking hours, Hill became restless and fidgety. He stopped eating properly and his moods became increasingly somber. He began muttering to himself and complained frequently of feeling overly drowsy. Nance had insisted that he visit the doctor, but the doctor declared that the foreign minister suffered from no diagnosable ailments. "Perhaps I am just getting old," Hill told his wife. "Old and a little crazy."
Lately, Hill's sleeping-self was becoming even more erratic. The Marcus Firment situation was weighing very heavily on Hill. And now came the news that Leif might still be alive. Hill felt sure that these were all pieces to the same puzzle. Perhaps Josephus could help decipher what all of this meant.
Hill rubbed his eyes tiredly. These were serious times in Somnos—most Dormians acknowledged that—but only Hill and Grand Vizier knew just how precarious the fate of Dormia truly was.
CHAPTER 13
IMAD'S ANTECHAMBER
AFTER FINISHING HIS TEA, Alfonso made his way to the cozy little guest bedroom on the third floor of the mansion. Most of the bedrooms in Hill's mansion weren't actually bedrooms at all because they contained no beds. In fact, the Dormians called these rooms "waking chambers." Dormians, of course, almost never slept in beds. They spent their sleeping hours out of the house and busy at work, doing tasks that required high levels of concentration and precision. When they returned home and spent time in their waking chambers, Dormians tended to engage in quiet, contemplative behavior—like playing music, painting pictures, writing poetry, meditating, or simply reading a good book.
Perhaps because he was only half-Dormian, Alfonso enjoyed a good night's sleep. Alfonso was relieved to see that his guest bedroom was furnished with a bed. It also had a small desk and a balcony overlooking the river. Alfonso unpacked his backpack and carefully hid both his sphere and his rosewood box underneath the bed. He was just getting ready to get under the covers when he heard a faint noise at the window. It sounded like someone whispering.
Alfonso walked over to the window, opened it fully, and listened to the sounds of the night. At first, he heard nothing but the distant snorts of the anteaters, but then he heard the strange noise again. It sounded like a cross between whispering and the wind blowing in the trees. This time the words were quite audible: Did you see it? Did you see it? Did you see it?
Alfonso wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him. "Did I
see what?" he asked out loud.
The response was immediate: The place where the Wanderers have gathered—the deep hole in the ground.
"Y-Yes," he stammered. "I saw it." A prickle of fear ran up Alfonso's neck.
It will happen again. You've come late, perhaps too late.
"Where are you?" demanded Alfonso. "Who are you?"
Do you not know me?
Alfonso stuck his head out the window to get a better look around. He saw no one, only the orchards and fields and then beyond this, the towering silhouette of the Founding Tree. He decided to go wake his uncle. Maybe he had been hearing the same noise.
Deep inside his head, he distinctly heard the response to his thoughts: It will do no good. There is only one who can help you. And he is far away.
"Who?" asked Alfonso nervously. "Who are you talking about?"
There was no response.
Alfonso was overcome with a creepy feeling. A question bubbled up from his subconscious: had he just been conversing with the Founding Tree? His Founding Tree. It was an absurd thought, but then again, Alfonso's life was filled with many absurdities. Other questions soon flooded his mind as well. Was it the Founding Tree that had drawn him into the catacombs beneath Paris, to the place where strange holes burrowed down into the earth? And, if so, why?
Moments later, the door to his room resounded with a crisp knock. Alfonso opened the door and found Resuza.
"You look like you've just seen a ghost," said Resuza.
"Sorry," muttered Alfonso. "I'm a little tired."
"Can I come in?" asked Resuza.
"Yeah, of course," said Alfonso.
As she entered the room, Alfonso marveled at how much Resuza had changed over the last three years. She was now sixteen years old, and a far cry from the orphan who had helped them navigate the streets of Barsh-yin-Binder.
"I hope I didn't wake you," she said. "It's just that our house has this lovely pool..."