by Amy Green
“I tried to tell Kasha that but she— ”
“Not Above-ground,” Vane growled. “In a grave.”
With that he marched back into the pitiful streets of New Urad.
Noa watched him go. “Quickly,” he said, “before he comes back and brings friends with him.”
“He has friends?” Rae wondered out loud.
They hurried into the gash in the rock that led into a wide tunnel. The path was lined with the glowing stones, giving just enough light to see what was ahead.
“Friendly neighbors you have here,” Jesse observed.
“Actually,” Noa said, “I have more hope for him than the others.”
“What do you mean?” Rae asked, shaking her head in disgust. “I’d like to smash his face in with one of these glowing rocks.”
For a moment, Noa stared at her, as if bewildered that she could suggest such a thing. Then he said, “At least Vane cares. There is still some life in him. There are still some questions. He’s come to all the wrong answers, of course. But at least he’s asking.”
That sounded crazy to Jesse, but Noa seemed to be a bit eccentric anyway. Then again, after so many years alone in the dark, who wouldn’t be?
“What’s that sound?” Silas asked, stopping.
Noa kept on going. “The river. We’ll be coming to it soon.”
Calling the trickling water a river was a bit of an exaggeration. Jesse decided it was more like a stream, especially compared to the strong, clear Dell River of his homeland. The thin band of water flowed along the path. Jesse prodded the water with his walking stick. In the middle, it would come only to his knees.
While Noa, Silas, and Rae walked on, Jesse stopped and took off his shoes. He had walked far over the last several days, and his lame leg was stiff and sore. At home, dipping it in cool water always helped. I’ll just walk in the river, he reasoned. I can still keep up.
The bottom of the stream felt like gravel, but Jesse felt a sensation of relief as his leg dipped into the water with a small splash.
Noa must have heard, because he whirled around. “No!” he shouted, running toward Jesse. “Get out of there!”
No sooner had Jesse stepped back onto the rocky ground than the stream began to boil with movement. Jesse took another step backward, staring at the swirling water. He wondered at first if somehow he had triggered a whirlpool like he had heard of in sailors’ stories. Then he saw tails and fins, pale in the dim light, sticking out of the water.
“Cave fish,” Noa explained. “Jags and rockeyes, we call them. Blind as anything, with holes for eyes, but they can feel movement. They’re carnivorous.”
“You mean I could have…” Jesse sputtered. He took another few steps away. Even Silas looked a little startled at Noa’s words.
“I’ve heard of a Roaric or two who lost a hand or foot that way,” Noa said sadly, “often children too foolish to obey the warnings. But mostly, we’re careful around them. They don’t find many of our kind to eat.”
Jesse jammed his feet back into his shoes, refusing to look at the fish again. Rae leaned a little closer to the water, which had calmed down some. “What do they eat, then?” she asked.
“Each other.”
For the rest of the journey, all of them were careful to stay far away from the water. Jesse scraped his arm a few times on the far wall because he walked so close to it.
“They’re very flavorful,” Noa said, as if trying to persuade Jesse the fish weren’t so bad after all. “As long as you pull off the scales first. They’re as tough as armor.”
Jesse shuddered. “I could never eat those…things.”
“There isn’t much food left,” Noa said, shrugging. “We haven’t gone Above-ground since the Fall, so our diet consists of fish and the animals that come into the mines that Roarics from the hunter clan kill.”
So that’s what Bern was doing so close to the surface, Jesse realized. Then he thought of something else. “No one will go to the entrance we came through,” he said. “Not anymore.”
Noa looked back at him. “What do you mean?”
Jesse explained about the cave-in, leaving out the details of why the king’s men were chasing them. Noa didn’t ask. “Another scene to add to the histories,” he exclaimed. “And an exciting one, at that.”
Jesse stared at him. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll run out of food, now that one of your passages is shut off?”
“Maybe it will force my people to leave,” Noa said. “I’ve been trying to convince them for years, but now that Urad is gone forever, perhaps they will listen. Sometimes it’s good to have every route taken away except the one that leads up to the light.”
Secretly, Jesse wondered if anything would convince people like Kasha, Bern, and Vane to leave New Urad. They’d rather die here, I think.
After walking for a few more minutes, they found where the stream curved into a small crack in the stone wall, carrying the water to the caves and crags deeper in. “I must leave you here,” Noa said.
Jesse looked around. No light shone from the surface as far as he could see. And we haven’t traveled up far enough. We must still be a long way underground. “But how do we get Above-ground?”
“Continue straight on,” Noa instructed. “The ground will begin to slope upward. I’ve only been past here once, as a boy. I remember many rock piles. Keep going, and you will see the entrance to the surface. All mines eventually lead there.”
“Come with us,” Jesse urged him. “You can’t stay here forever.”
“No,” Noa said, shaking his head. “That would be the easy way—just as responding to the Fall by denying thought and questions was the easy way.” He gestured to the dark cave. “And you can see where that leads.”
Noa smiled, a tired, lonely smile. “But at least some good has come of this. I can now make the first new painting since Father died. He would have liked to meet you; I know it.”
Rae was already backing down the tunnel. “Thank you for all you did for us.”
“It was nothing,” Noa said. “God go with you on your journey—wherever it might take you.”
Jesse grunted. Why does everyone keep saying that? “I don’t think God will be coming with us. If he exists at all, he probably hates me.”
Noa cocked his head curiously. “And why do you say that?”
Jesse glanced down at his crippled leg. “Well, I can’t walk well, for one. Where was God when the accident happened? Where was God when my parents disappeared? I didn’t do anything to deserve it. Why do bad things happen to good people if God can stop them?”
“Ah,” Noa said thoughtfully, apparently not bothered by Jesse’s sharp words. “The Great Question. Put another way, why does a good, powerful God allow suffering? Jesse, if I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t believe in God; I would be God.”
“Oh.” Jesse didn’t bother to hide the disappointment on his face. Maybe the reason no one can answer the question is because there is no answer.
“But,” Noa continued, “perhaps I can share with you something I’ve learned. When I was young, I didn’t understand why my father lived away from the rest of the village, or why he painted the Histories, or made what seemed to me to be strange, meaningless markings in his journal. But even though I didn’t always know why, I trusted my father.”
Noa reached up and put his hand on Jesse’s shoulder, just like Jesse’s father had once done. “And, to him, those strange markings made sense all along. Each fit together to form a greater story.”
Jesse pictured the neat, clear letters on the worn pages of Noa’s books. He couldn’t think of anything to say.
“We really should go,” Silas said. “You and your map have been of great help to us. I’ve waited for so long….” His voice trailed off, but there was a strange, new quality to it that Jesse didn’t like.
Noa waved him on. “I understand. Above-grounders can’t be kept in the darkness forever.”
Silas and Rae continued into the darkness, but Jesse hesitated. I’ll come back someday, he decided. Then I’ll tell Noa the adventures I have had with the Youth Guard.
Before Jesse could say good-bye, Noa spoke up quietly. “It’s destroying him.”
Jesse blinked. “What?”
“Silas,” Noa said. “Hatred is a form of evil. It can only destroy the person who holds it. Silas will have a hard time coming to the One who alone can conquer evil—harder than any of the rest of you—he wants too much to be in control.”
What do I say to that? Jesse tried to make a joke. “So, the History Keeper is a prophet too?”
“No,” Noa said, shaking his head, “but much of history is the study of people, and much of prophecy is the same. Sometimes a prophecy is just taking what is known from the past and applying it to the future. I was like him once.”
That was difficult for Jesse to picture. The two seemed to be radically different. “Well, maybe there’s hope for Silas after all,” he said, half-joking. Noa’s heavy tone was starting to worry him.
“You’re right about that,” Noa agreed. “There is always hope.”
Jesse tried one last time. “Are you sure you won’t join us?”
“Yes,” Noa said, “but thank you. This is where God has placed me. When the Roarics decide to ask questions, to remember the past, and to learn from it, then they will have the courage to leave New Urad. But, until then, I must stay.”
He stared into the dark, like he could see something far away. “I am the only light they have.”
Chapter 7
“A slope upward, Noa said,” Rae grunted, breathing heavily. “I would hardly call this a mere slope.”
Jesse didn’t answer, using all his energy to keep scrambling up each rock. This was the third pile they had climbed since leaving Noa. Along the way were a few of the steel carts they had seen at the other mines, and Jesse noticed for the first time the two parallel grooves that lined the tunnels.
For the wheels on the carts, he realized. To haul gems and iron to the surface. We’re going in the right direction, at least. He wished they could climb in a cart and be hauled to the surface by a crew of Roarics, but the tracks were broken up by the huge piles of boulders Noa had warned them about.
Finally, at the top of the third rock heap, Jesse spotted the sight they had waited for: a pinprick of sunlight. Small though it was, the light gave Jesse the energy to continue.
This heap seemed to be steeper than the others, and Jesse had the sensation of climbing straight up a mountain cliff, although he knew it was no such thing. Rae, of course, was an excellent climber, but Silas lumbered behind Jesse, choosing the slower, but safer, routes.
Jesse stopped to rest, leaning against one of the cool stones. His body was soaked with sweat, and he was suddenly glad he had left his pack of supplies at the entrance to the cave. I wouldn’t have the strength to carry it now.
Directly below him, Silas stopped too. “Here,” he said, passing the water skin to Jesse. “Give it to Rae when you’re done.” Either he was too tired to ask where Jesse’s own supplies were, or he didn’t notice they were gone.
Jesse took a long gulp of water, cold and refreshing. “Catch,” he called, tossing the water skin up to Rae. He didn’t throw it far enough, and she had to duck down to grab it.
That sudden movement seemed to jar the boulder she was standing on. Jesse watched in horror as the boulder pulled away from the others, sending Rae tumbling down the pile.
Instinctively, he grabbed her as she fell, trying to steady her before she slid farther down the mountain of stones. Even though Rae had stopped, Silas was still shouting.
Jesse looked up to see several stones rolling down the pile. Rae’s rock must have loosened others. Even as his mind processed that thought, he realized something more immediately important: They’re coming toward us!
Instinctively, Jesse shoved Rae aside, toward Silas. At the same time, he leaped to the right, missing the boulder. Get away! his mind screamed, but there was nowhere to go without falling down the pile.
He saw a rock heading toward his head, but he had no time to move. A shooting pain raced jaggedly through him. Dimly, he heard his own voice crying out in pain.
Movement beside him. Voices. Jesse tried to focus enough to understand what Silas and Rae were saying, but he couldn’t. It hurt too much.
Then, mercifully, black began to cloud his vision, and he didn’t see or hear anymore.
When he opened his eyes again, his head still throbbed, but the sharp pain was gone. That was a relief.
He was Above-ground. The tree branch above him was a good sign of that. Jesse never realized how much he appreciated simple things like fresh air and the sun on his face.
“He’s awake,” Rae’s voice said. Her dark eyes looked even wider than usual as she leaned down toward him.
“Are you all right?” Silas asked, joining her.
“Not yet, but I hope to be on my feet in no time,” Jesse said dryly. Silas and Rae didn’t smile. “Well, at least I have a hard head.”
Still no reaction. Jesse gave up and focused on his injuries, reaching a hand up to touch his head. Even through the bandages, he could feel the lump on his temple. “One of our blankets is torn up now, I assume,” he said.
Silas shook his head. “Part of the tent. The canvas was thicker.”
“You were bleeding a lot,” Rae added. She didn’t exactly sound concerned, but she hadn’t left him underground to die. That was something.
“It must have been the rubble from old mine shafts,” Jesse said, his voice not quite steady. “No wonder the rocks were loose—there was nothing to hold them together.”
“I was surprised you didn’t get crushed,” Rae said bluntly. “You should consider yourself lucky.”
“How did I get here?” Jesse asked, glancing around.
“We carried you,” Silas said.
Jesse frowned. “You shouldn’t have done that. You could have fallen.”
“It was either that or leave you behind,” Rae pointed out, sitting down on the grass. “Stop being so noble.”
“I’m not being noble,” Jesse protested. “If you were carrying me, I would have fallen with you.”
Silas turned to Rae. “I liked him better when he was unconscious.”
Even though his leg throbbed with pain, Jesse smiled a little. “Where are we?”
“Just outside the cave,” Silas said. “We found a grove of trees nearby. We’ll spend the night here.”
“Can you move?” Rae asked.
“I think so.” Jesse stretched a little, then sat up slowly, leaning against the tree. Now he could see the mountains through the trees. There was a small hole in the rock near the ground. “You crawled through that?” he asked, amazed.
Rae nodded. “Silas wanted to pull aside more boulders to make it larger, but I told him that was foolish. If we accidentally loosened the rocks beneath us, we would be at the bottom of the pile again—if we managed to live.”
“She had to pull me out of the opening,” Silas said, rubbing his shoulder. Suddenly, Jesse wished he had been awake for that part. It would have been very entertaining.
Rae stood and walked over to a pine on the other side of their camp. When she came back, she was holding Jesse’s walking stick.
“Here,” she said, handing it to him. “I dug it out of the rocks. Silas wanted to leave it behind, but I told him that you’d try to crawl back into the cave to get it.”
“You’re probably right,” Jesse said, gripping the familiar wood of the staff. “Thank you.”
Then he glanced at his leg, the crippled left one. It, too, was wrapped in a bandage.
Silas followed his gaze. “Another rock grazed
you before I got there,” he said. “Just tore the skin up, mostly. You should be able to walk just fine. As well as usual, I mean,” he added quickly.
Jesse tried to be cheerful. “Well, at least it was the one that was already mangled.”
“What happened to your leg?” Rae asked, staring at it.
“Hmm?” Jesse said, jerking his head up. He grinned a little. “Oh, a rock fell on it.”
“No, I mean before that,” Rae said, rolling her eyes. “If you don’t mind saying,” she added quickly.
Jesse shook his head. “I don’t mind. It was five years ago, when I was ten. I was playing with a friend of mine in the village stables. We were teasing one of the horses, a beautiful, spirited chestnut stallion.”
Understanding flickered across Rae’s face. “Oh,” she said. As one who knew much about horses, she could clearly see where this story was going.
Jesse continued anyway. “My friend, Eli, dared me to jump on its back. I had been riding often before, and I thought I could handle this new horse. I was wrong. It wasn’t used to a strange rider, I suppose, and it was already annoyed. Whatever the reason, it began to buck furiously, throwing me to the ground. I tried to roll away, but it stomped on my leg several times.”
He closed his eyes, remembering the pain he had felt then, much stronger than what he felt even now. “If my father hadn’t come running, I might have been trampled to death.”
“It must have been a hard loss, the use of your leg, I mean,” Silas said.
“Accidents happen,” Jesse said, shrugging. “If anyone was to blame, I was, for being so foolish. Besides, I get along well enough. My limp taught me a lesson. I just wish I didn't have to learn it the hard way.”
His words were optimistic, as they always were when someone asked him about his crippled leg. They were true enough. But although the pain of the accident soon died away, Jesse could still remember the greater pain—not being able to participate in the harvest time footraces, trying to ignore the stares and whispers of pity when he went into town, hearing the other children laugh at him.