World's End

by Jake Halpern

  Meanwhile, Clink was examining the wall as if it were a piece of fine art. He tried to loosen individual tiles, but nothing budged. Eventually, he walked back to the entrance, spun around, and stared at the tile wall from a distance. After a minute, his mouth began to move, but no sound came out.

  "Da-ta-da-dah-daaaa-ta." Then Clink began to hum.

  The others looked puzzled.

  "Thank goodness you have me around!" exclaimed Clink. "Did you know that I am not only an accomplished safe-cracker, but I'm also one of Somnos's finest musicians?"

  "This is no time for boastin', ya foolhardy braggart," muttered Misty.

  "Clink! You're a genius!" Alfonso exclaimed. "Those black lines are musical notes, aren't they?"

  Clink nodded proudly.

  "Never made it past the second grade," said Clink proudly. "But I do what I can."

  "Quick," said Alfonso. "Take out the kaval—the shepherd's flute—and play it. "

  "Fer the love of Magrewski, ya better hurry up," said Bilblox nervously. "I think I hear them zwodszay comin'."

  Seconds later, they could all hear the sound of stone clubs smashing against the cast-iron door.

  The zwodszay had arrived.

  Resuza took out her Enfield rifle and walked over to the doorway where Bilblox was also standing. She pointed her rifle at the doorway, poised to shoot.

  Wham! Wham! Wham!

  The stone archway around the door began to crumble and give way.

  Clink wet his lips and began to play the kaval.

  The notes echoed in the room and seemed to get louder and crisper instead of diminishing. The room was built for music, and each crystal clear note hung in the air, perfectly balanced with the other notes. Clink repeated the same simple arrangement several times until they all heard a grinding sound.

  "The wall is opening!" yelled Alfonso.

  They all watched as the tile wall descended slowly into the floor. It took a minute before the wall had dropped enough for them to see what was behind it. Hill groaned. It revealed another wall. It was the same size as the tile wall and set back several feet. Alfonso ran over and examined this new wall. It was made up of a row of extremely narrow doors. Each door, made of smooth yellow marble, was approximately six inches wide. All together, there were about a hundred doors, each of them identical. Alfonso tried opening a few, but they all appeared to be locked.

  Wham! Wham! Wham!

  The cast-iron door toppled over. Screeches and yowls came from the passageway. They looked back and saw thousands of tiny red eyes staring at them.

  "They won't come in because of the light," yelled Hill.

  A grinding sound came from the tile wall. The top emerged from the floor and began to rise quickly toward the ceiling.

  "This is our chance!" shouted Hill. "Quick, everyone, we'll get on the other side of the tile wall before it closes."

  "But we'll be trapped between the two walls!" protested Clink. "If we can't open those doors, we'll be stuck."

  "We'll worry abou' that later," yelled Misty. "Come on, ya numbskull!"

  They all ran to the tile wall and jumped over—first Misty, then Clink, Alfonso, Resuza, Bilblox, and Kõrgu. Hill came last. By the time he reached the wall, it had risen to almost six feet. Just as Hill was about to climb over, the room was plunged into darkness. The zwodszay had reached the candelabra. A hideous burning smell filled the room, followed by a heart-rending moan. Apparently, one of the zwodszay had sacrificed himself to ensure that the candles were extinguished.

  Hill grabbed the top of the wall and began to pull himself over. It was now over eight feet tall and rising quickly. Hill let out a cry of pain. His hands slipped and he began to fall backwards.

  "Th-They've got me," Hill shouted. "I-I can't make it..."

  Bilblox sprang into action, leapt toward Hill's voice, and grabbed hold of Hill's hands, which gripped the top of the rising wall. The burly longshoreman pushed off the wall with his feet and yanked Hill toward them. It was hard at first, but then the zwodszay holding Hill on the other side lost its grip, and Bilblox and Hill fell heavily onto the ground.

  The zwodszay all began to screech and snarl as if, perhaps, they had turned on one another. It was such a terrifying sound that tears dripped down Alfonso's face and he hugged the ground. Then the first wall closed completely. The sounds of the zwodszay abruptly disappeared, leaving Alfonso and the others in the silent, completely darkened space between the two walls.

  CHAPTER 32

  SEEING THE STARS

  ALFONSO REACHED into his backpack and pulled out his blue sphere. He spun the object in his hand and it soon began to glow with the flickering image of the one-eyed monk placing a scroll of parchment into a locked box. This was strange. Alfonso hadn't seen this particular image before, but he was concerned with more pressing matters. He held the blue sphere out so that it might cast some light into the surrounding darkness, but its meager light could only trace the basic outline of the enclosure. Resuza lit a candle, which generated a bit more light.

  Hill sighed. "Now what?" he asked. "Josephus's list doesn't have any keys." He looked at Clink. "What do you make of all these doors?"

  Clink stood up, took the candle from Resuza, examined one of the locked doors, and nodded thoughtfully. He extracted a wire spool from his pocket and inserted it into one of the keyholes. Over the next few minutes, he moved the wire back and forth in the keyhole. Finally, he looked up. His face was streaked with sweat.

  "There's no obvious triggering mechanism, which means even Alfonso couldn't do that nifty trick of his." Clink looked annoyed. "This is ridiculous! Who knew that Jasberians were such good locksmiths? Somnos is filled with weak, flabby locks!"

  "Even if we could unlock one of these doors, we still got problems," said Bilblox as he felt the dimensions of one of the doors. "The doors are too narrow. Probl'y only Alfonso and Resuza can fit through."

  "You're right about that," chuckled Misty, who had been listening to the conversation. "Me 'n' you got meat on our ol' bones, and we can't be fittin' through doors like them!"

  Clink examined the entire length of the wall and confirmed that all the doors were identical; each was made of smooth marble and contained a keyhole with no obvious triggering mechanism. Clink unsuccessfully tried every tool in his satchel, but he did notice one curious thing. Small amounts of fog or mist appeared to be seeping through several of the keyholes. "It's as if there are a bunch of clouds on the other side of this wall," concluded Clink. "Though I don't know how that helps us."

  They sat on the stone floor and watched Resuza's candle drip away. Clink and Hill chewed on some beef jerky. Bilblox was rubbing his head with his fingers and breathing rather heavily. Apparently, the old longshoreman was fighting off another one of his awful headaches. Alfonso squeezed Bilblox's shoulder in a gesture of sympathy and Bilblox grunted appreciatively. The others in the traveling party simply rested. The only person doing anything remotely productive was Misty. She had a small pad and pencil out and she was composing a sketch in the flickering light.

  "What are you drawing?" asked Alfonso.

  "Oh nothin' special—just a drawin' of that bridge we passed o'er," said Misty. "I like to sketch a bit just to keep mah hands from bein' idle."

  "Mind if I draw something?" asked Alfonso.

  "Sure," said Misty, as she handed the pad and pencil to Alfonso.

  Alfonso was not especially fond of drawing, but he wanted to get a vision onto paper before he forgot the details of it. It was the vision that he'd seen in the Hub while standing on the giant stump—the vision of the white-eyed boy and the spooky-looking plant that the boy had placed in the soil. Alfonso worked quickly. He drew the boy, the plant, its hideous roots, and the dead trees that surrounded it all. His sketch was rough, but evocative.

  "That ain't a bad renderin' of the Coe-Nyetz Tree," said Misty appreciatively. Alfonso hadn't noticed, but the old miner was looking over his shoulder. "Ya did a nice job drawin' them roots."

/>   "What are you talking about?" asked Alfonso.

  "That's what ya drew, ain't it?" asked Misty. "Oh, I used to be mighty interested in that bit of 'istory when I was a wee girl."

  "The Coe-Nyetz Tree isn't history," interjected Clink condescendingly. "It's a fairy tale. There's a difference, you know."

  "Call it what you like," said Misty. "It's a true tale."

  Suddenly, everyone in the room was paying avid attention to what was being said.

  "What's the story?" asked Resuza.

  "Oh, it's just a bunch of nonsense about an evil Founding Tree that spreads death and destruction," said Clink dismissively. "It's peasant lore. Miners and bricklayers love that kind of stuff. Only simpletons like my cousin here put any stock in such tales."

  "Why, ya ain't even got the story right," sniped Misty. "It's a tale about Dormia—that's what it is. It's about the elders, in their infinite wisdom, makin' a helluva stupid mistake. It's about the high 'n' mighty always thinkin' they're too smart t'have any problems. Ya see, ever since the beginnin' of our times, the elders been tryin' to grow a Foundin' Tree from nothin' but scratch. Ya know, without the aid of a Great Sleeper. Just in case a feller in yer shoes don't show up." She looked at Alfonso. "I don't mean to insult yer groupa Great Sleepers, but it's happened. Anyhow, I don't need to tell ya, they ain't never succeeded in growin' a tree in this manner. They came close once, though, and that's what the Coe-Nyetz Tree was all about."

  "Go on," said Alfonso eagerly.

  "Well, a few thousand years ago, there was a fella—a Dormian—who went by the name of Resze," continued Misty. "He got ahold of some ether from a Foundin' Tree—that's the magical sap that grows inside the tree's trunk. Anyhow, he gets special permission't'sprinkle some of that ether on the seeds of a Colossal Carpathian fir."

  "What's that?" asked Alfonso.

  "They came from Straszydlo Forest," explained Misty. "They're extinct now, but when they lived, they was dark, mysterious trees. Grew only razor-sharp needles that made ya tremble jus' t'look at 'em. Resze traveled into the forest to get some-a these seeds. Then he went into Siberia t'conduct his experiment."

  "A-course, nothin' much is known about what Resze accomplished, other than that he failed. All they ever figured out came from a follow-up expedition. They found ol' Resze's bones all right, but here was the spooky part: every tree, shrub, 'n' blade a grass hundreds a miles from the site was dead, and farther out, vegetation was only just beginnin' to return. Along the way, they encountered some peasants who spoke of a 'circle of death' that destroyed all life."

  "A bunch of hogwash," said Clink. "The fairy tale also says that the Coe-Nyetz Tree is regenerative. Oh, they say all kinds of things..."

  "Regenerative?" inquired Bilblox.

  "That's just a fancy waya sayin' that the tree can grow back," explained Misty. "You can grow it, cut it, burn it, and it'll grow right back. Not like our Founding Trees where, if you cut 'em, they'll never sprout new limbs."

  "So, what you're saying is, this tree could give you an endless supply of purple ash?" asked Alfonso.

  "I suppose it could," said Misty.

  "Look here, Alfonso," said Clink. "This is what miners do when they're bored—they spin ridiculous yarns."

  "Oh, it's a true tale," countered Misty. "Mister Foreign Minister, ya heard of the Coe-Nyetz Tree, aintcha?"

  "I know the first lines from an old nursery rhyme," said Hill. He closed his eyes and recited it from memory:

  Old man Resze much toil did he spend,

  A seed and some ether he did blend,

  An ominous fate this did portend

  A dark shadow tree and the world's end.

  "Yup, that's the rhyme," said Misty.

  "World's End," muttered Alfonso to himself. "Strange—that's the name of my hometown."

  "I haven't recalled that rhyme in years," said Hill. "Alfonso, how did you hear about this tale anyway?"

  "It's rather odd," muttered Alfonso almost to himself. "I saw it in a dream very recently."

  Misty stared at Alfonso. "A Great Sleeper saw that tree in his dream? 'N' ya never read nor heard about it before?"

  "Never," replied Alfonso.

  "Well that ain't good," declared Misty. "Ya jus' gave me the shivers."

  Clink snorted, but said nothing.

  Resuza's candle began to flicker. It was almost out. Resuza reached into her backpack for another. Hill shook his head. "Don't bother," he said. "I think we're all tired. Let's just have some darkness for a bit. We'll sleep and maybe figure a way out in our sleep."

  Alfonso nodded, although it was a strange thing to watch the candle go out. He couldn't help feeling helpless and panicked as the candle sputtered, the flame disappeared, and only the faint reddish tint of the dying ember remained visible. Seconds later, even that light disappeared.

  Then something most unexpected occurred: two incandescent, glowing images appeared in the darkness. The first image, which was a painting of the night sky, was emblazoned on the ceiling. It glowed a lustrous blue and looked amazingly like the real night sky, despite the fact that they were trapped deep underground.

  The second image, which was a drawing of a lion, was emblazoned on the tile wall that had just risen into place. The lion looked proud and regal. Several white dots, the same shape as the stars above them, illuminated different parts of his body. Beneath the image of the lion, the same phrase was written in three different languages:

  "Would you look at that!" Hill exclaimed.

  "What?" asked Bilblox.

  "Two glowing drawings just appeared," explained Hill. "There's one on the ceiling of the constellations of the northern sky and the other is of a lion with stars at different places on his body on the back of the tile wall."

  "The lion is Leo," explained Clink. "That's one of the constellations in the northern sky."

  "What's that writing beneath the lion?" asked Resuza.

  "The first language is Arabic," explained Hill. "The second is Chinese or Korean I believe. And the third is..."

  "Latin," said Alfonso excitedly. "I've taken a bit of Latin in school."

  "What does it say?" asked Resuza.

  "Well," said Alfonso, "Cor means 'heart' and Leonis means 'lion.' So I guess it's 'heart of the lion.'"

  "What on earth is that about?" asked Bilblox.

  "Obviously, that's referring to Regulus, the star that's right at the lion's heart in the Leo constellation," Clink proclaimed. "It's the bottom-right star on the drawing of Leo. You've all seen it before, I'm sure. It's one of the brightest stars in the sky."

  "That's some second-grade education you got," said Bilblox.

  "I probably could have been a top-notch professor or a certified genius," said Clink matter-of-factly. "But I'm simply too fond of stealing, cheating, and rule-breaking."

  "It seems like they want us to find Regulus on the map of the northern sky above us," remarked Resuza. "Can you find it?"

  "Sure, it's in the bottom left-hand corner above us," explained Clink. "Just match up the shapes. Do you see it?"

  "I see it!" said Resuza.

  "What do you suppose is so special about that star?" asked Hill.

  "Not sure," said Clink.

  "Maybe we're meant to touch it or press it," suggested Clink. "But I suppose the ceiling is too high for that..."

  "Come on—use your brain. That's what the slingshot is for!" said Bilblox wryly. "The slingshot was on the list of things Josephus brought along. This is probably what it's for."

  "By Jove, that's right!" said Hill. "Resuza, have a go at it. You're the best shot among us."

  Hill took the slingshot out of his backpack and handed it to Resuza.

  "Resuza, do you see Regulus?" he asked. "Can you hit it?"

  "Sure," she replied. She loaded the slingshot with a single rock, aimed carefully in the pitch-black darkness, and let the rock fly. Ping! The rock hit the lion's heart dead-on. Half a second later, they all heard something fluttering in the air and the
n landing softly on the ground. Hill immediately lit a candle and they gathered around the object that had fallen from the ceiling. It appeared to be a key, although it was by no means an ordinary one. It was extremely long, curved like a J, and appeared to be made of a crinkled, brown paper.

  "Careful," Hill warned. "This thing looks incredibly fragile." Clink edged closer, picked up the key, and held it lightly in his palm. "I've heard stories about these, but I never imagined they actually existed," he said in a voice tinged with wonder. "These are leaf keys. When you put them into the keyhole and turn them, it unlocks the door but it also destroys the key. You get one chance and that's it."

  "Why don't we just use the slingshot a bunch of times?" Bilblox asked. "That way, we'll get enough keys, just in case."

  "Good point," said Hill. "Resuza, why don't we try to get another one? Just in case." She nodded in agreement. After Hill blew out the candle and their eyes adjusted, she aimed carefully and fired again at the lion's heart. Ping! They all waited for another key to drop, but nothing happened. Hill lit the candle and shook his head.

  "As I suspected," said Clink. "You get one key and that's it. Each party that enters this chamber only gets one key—one chance to open the second gate."

  No one spoke for a minute or so.

  "I have an idea," said Alfonso finally. "Clink, you're saying that the leaf key disintegrates. Well, if anyone used a leaf key recently, there's got to be a trace—you know, a bit of leaf left in the keyhole."

  "I didn't see anything like that," replied Clink. "The keyholes were clean."

  "Maybe I can look a little closer. Hand me that candle," said Alfonso.

  Hill gave the candle to his nephew and everyone backed away from Alfonso as he focused carefully on the flame. The flame danced and flickered and Alfonso became lost in the complexity of its movements. He slipped into hypnogogia and walked toward the wall of doors and began examining each door's keyhole. He approached each keyhole with his eyes wide open. Then he squinted his eyes, effectively zooming in, as if his eyes were two telephoto lenses, until the faintest of dust particles appeared as big as beach balls. Finally, at the twelfth door from the left, he found something. In the flickering light of the candle, he saw a microscopic wafer with an intricate pattern of veins on it.