by Jake Halpern
“Come on dad,” said Alfonso.
“Yeah,” said Marta, “We’re not kids anymore – were agelings – I’m old enough to get a tattoo – we can handle it.”
Leif bit his lip.
“Alfonso, I found your prophecy,” said Leif finally.
“And?” asked Alfonso.
“I didn’t read the whole thing, but I read part of it – here, I brought it with me.” Leif handed his son the piece of paper with the two scenarios in which the Shadow Tree could be destroyed. Alfonso studied it carefully. Marta and Nathalia read it over his shoulder.
“So I have to destroy the Shadow Tree,” said Nathalia finally. She seemed stunned, but beneath her surprise was a trace of pride.
“Yes,” said Leif.
“How do you know the prophecy is accurate?” asked Alfonso.
“So far it’s been spot on,” said Leif. “It said that I would reunite with you, someone named, ‘M,’ and someone named ‘C.N.T.’ right here at this obelisk – and that’s exactly what happened. I believe it. And I believe that Nathalia can do what needs to be done.”
Nathalia coughed, wiped her brow of sweat, and nodded her head.
“You don’t look well,” said Alfonso, looking at Nathalia. “You really think you’re up for this?”
“Yes,” said Nathalia. “I’ll be fine.”
“Hmm,” said Alfonso, as if he weren’t totally convinced. “It just seems strange doesn’t it?”
“How so,” said Leif – as coolly as he could.
“Well,” said Alfonso, “I mean, don’t you feel it, dad?”
“Feel what?” asked Leif. Leif did his best to look confused, but in truth, he knew exactly what his son was talking about. He’d been feeling it since the shipwreck and perhaps even before that.
“You know,” said Alfonso. “The pull, like gravity or something, just tugging on you constantly.”
“What are you getting at?” asked Leif. There was just a trace of irritation in his voice. Take it easy old man, he thought to himself. Play it cool.
“My point is that I feel the pull of the Shadow Tree all the time – even in my sleep,” said Alfonso. “I mean, here we are, two Great Sleepers, being pulled toward Dargora and yet it’s Nathalia who is meant to destroy the Shadow Tree?”
Leif nodded, but said nothing.
“I doesn’t seem right,” said Alfonso. “I don’t buy it.”
“There’s nothing to buy or not to buy,” said Leif irritably. “Nathalia will take care of this.”
“But what if she can’t do it?” asked Alfonso. His voice was somber. “That means...”
“No!” shouted Leif. He hadn’t intended to yell, but he had. A few of the children stirred. Leif changed his tone, speaking more quietly, but firmly. “Absolutely not,” said Leif. “I’m your father and I am telling you, there is no way in hell that I am going to allow you anywhere near that tree. Forget it! I’ve lost seven bloody years of my life on this quest, you were nearly killed in that fire in Jasber, and now you’ve become some kind of... ageling. How much can they expect of us? We’ve done enough. So I don’t want to hear another word about it – understand?”
Leif stared at his son and what he saw was unnerving because Alfonso was – in physical appearance, at least – a grown man. Leif had to remind himself that Alfonso was really only fifteen years old. And yet, in the last several months Alfonso had clearly been through so much, Leif suspected that his son was no longer the boy he’d once been. Leif also realized that he’d messed up – he’d gone about this business all wrong – speaking to Alfonso like this in front of all these people. He wanted to take it back – say something to fix the situation – but what?
“You’ve been away a long time,” said Alfonso finally, breaking the silence. His tone was cold. “I don’t think you know the first thing about me.”
While the children slept, Alfonso, Leif, Nathalia, and Marta gathered around the desk and examined a large map of the region, which they had found in one of the desks. The map was old. The date in the corner indicated that it was made in 1849 by a mapmaker from the city of Gdansk on the Baltic Sea. They all scrutinized the map, searching for a place where three rivers converged because, as the prophecy noted, this is where they would need to drop off Nathalia so she could fulfill her destiny. For the time being, at least, that was the plan. They read and then reread the directions offered in the prophecy: They arrive at the southernmost edge of the Petrified Forest where the three rivers converge, near the caves where the fog wolves live. Yet there were no markings on the map pointing to a Petrified Forest, and unfortunately, there were numerous places where three rivers converged.
“This is useless,” Nathalia said. “We’ll never find it on a map. Dargora didn’t stay a mystery for all this time for no reason. It’s hidden well.”
“I can take you where you need to go,” said a voice. They all turned around. It was Kolo – the teenage boy who had once lorded over the children. “I know the route the slavers take toward Dargora – I almost wish I didn’t, but I remember every horrible mile of it.”
“How?” demaded Nathalia.
“I followed my brothers when they were taken,” explained Kolo. “I made it all the way to the caves where the fog wolves live.” Kolo then recounted the details of his journey, telling Leif, Nathalia, and Marta what he had already told Alfonso earlier. Then he added: “I can show you where the path through the Petrified Forest begins. After that, you’re on your own. I won’t go in there again. There’s something wrong with the trees... they’re only half dead.”
“I presume you aren’t doing this for free,” said Nathalia. “What do you want in return?”
“Your air ship,” said the boy. It was a bold request, and the boy made it unapologetically.
Nathalia chortled, half-amused, half-shocked.
Marta was shaking her head. “Forget it,” she said. “I don’t trust you for a second.”
The boy smiled. “Then try to find this place by yourself,” he countered. “You may not trust me, but I know the way.” The others said nothing. “Just let me know what you decide,” said the boy, with a half-smile. “I’m ready to help.”
The boy walked away quickly.
Alfonso stood rock-still.
“No,” said Marta. “Absolutely not.”
Chapter 26: The Lucky Rabbit
Bilblox had never slept so deeply in his life. When he finally woke up, he found himself walking up a driveway to a cottage set amidst trees and flowering bushes. Vines covered the walls and the smell of baking bread emanated from the chimney.
As he stepped on a frayed but clean welcome mat, the door opened. It was Judy Perplexon, Alfonso’s mother. Bilblox smiled nervously. The last time they had spoken he had made a promise to protect her son. And now he had no idea where he was.
Instead of inviting him in, Judy closed the door behind her and they walked slowly together down the driveway. Bilblox felt light-headed. A dull ache came from the palm of his hand, and he wondered when he had injured it.
“The lake is unusually cold for this time of year,” Judy said in a conversational tone. “But the kids still go swimming. They won’t be stopped by a little cold. Shall we take a look?”
Bilblox nodded but said nothing.
“You needn’t worry about finding Alfonso,” she said in the same easy manner. “He’ll find you. You two have an extraordinary friendship, and I hope it continues for many decades to come.”
“It will,” said Bilblox. “You can trust me on that.”
“I don’t doubt you,” replied Judy. “But I wonder whether this can happen after the Shadow Tree.” She stared into the distance.
Bilblox’s dream abruptly shifted from the driveway to the pristine shoreline of Lake Witekkon. He followed Judy’s gaze and before his eyes, watched the lake transform from a sparkling body of water to a fetid swamp bubbling with noxious gases. One by one, teenagers the same age as Alfonso ran into the swamp thinking that it was st
ill the lake. Seconds after entering the water, they began screaming again and again. Their bodies began to shudder until they fell motionless into the oily black water.
Bilblox ran to save them but just when he arrived at the shoreline, it changed again. It was now an absolute wasteland of dust and sullen desert. A line of people waited patiently for what appeared to be a pinch of black powder. Their bodies looked misshapen, as if their bones had been repeatedly broken and reset badly. Bilblox tried to yell but still could not. Judy stood next to him. Bilblox was suddenly afraid and refused to turn to look at her. He did not want a glimpse of how she looked after taking the black powder.
“I’m so tired,” said Judy in a monotone. “These poor, poor children.”
“My poor, poor child,” said a raspy voice. “My poor child.”
Bilblox immediately became aware of two things. The first was that this voice did not belong to Judy; the second was that he had a pounding headache. The pain in his head was his cue that he was back in reality. Slowly, he half-opened one of his eyes and saw that he was lying on a soft bed wrapped in red velvet blankets. He was sweating profusely and the bed sheets were soaking wet. A constant shiver wracked his body. Bilblox rubbed his eyes, forced them open, and looked around. The daylight was so painful – like a squirt of lemon juice in the eyes – and he winced and groaned as he forced himself to keep his eyes open.
“My poor, poor child,” said the raspy voice again. “Everything will be okay, you are just experiencing withdrawal.”
Bilblox turned his head to see who was speaking. It was a teenage boy with a square-shaped jaw, and a small mouth, and two white eyes. The boy was now running his hands through Bilblox’s hair, as if to comfort him, but the effect only intensified Bilblox’s pounding headache.
“Where am I?” muttered Bilbox.
“In my bedroom,” said the teenager. “I watched over you while you slept – you poor, little rabbit – to make sure you were okay.”
“Who are you?” asked Bilblox groggily.
“My dear, dear, dear Bilblox, do you not recognize me?” asked the boy. “We met in Barsh-yin-Binder several years ago.”
“We did?”
“Yes,” said the boy, “And then again in the roots beneath the Founding Tree in Somnos.”
Bilblox blinked and then forced himself to focus on the boy’s face.
“Nartam?” asked Bilblox in disbelief.
“Yes indeed,” replied the boy as he continued to run his fingers through Bilblox’s hair. “I am much younger than when you saw me last.”
“My head,” groaned Bilblox.
Nartam leaned forward, bringing his lips to Bilblox’s ears, and whispered, “What you need is a pinch of ash – black ash.”
Bilblox wanted to say yes. The thought of having another nightmare was unbearable. And then there were the headaches. They were killing him. And yet, he couldn’t let himself.
“No...” said Bilblox firmly and as he said this, he sat up in the bed and stared Nartam in the eyes. “I don’t want it.”
There was a knock on the door. Bilblox glanced around anxiously, looking for the door and, as he did, he took in his surroundings for the first time. He appeared to be inside a ship, in a spacious room with very little furniture other than a mound of pillows on which he now lay. There were a number of windows, whose views were all obscured by clouds. There was another knock on the door.
“Come in,” beckoned Nartam. A narrow wooden door swung open and there, in the doorway, stood Kiril.
“How is he?” asked Kiril.
“Ask him yourself,” replied Nartam.
“How are you feeling?” asked Kiril.
“I’m not taking your stinking ash,” replied Bilblox angrily. “And first chance, I get, I’m bustin’ outta here.”
“No,” said Nartam smoothly. “I’d prefer you stay by my side – it appears that I will have some use for you – you are my lucky rabbit.”
Bilblox was staring at Kiril and, as Nartam spoke, for a fraction of a second, Kiril grimaced – as if he were somehow unhappy with this arrangement.
“If you don’t mind,” said Kiril, “I would like to borrow Bilblox for a moment.”
“Why?” asked Nartam pointedly. “I don’t think that’s wise. I’d rather he stay here.”
“I need him to help me,” said Kiril very deliberately, as if he didn’t want to go into any further detail in front of Bilblox. “It involves the matter we discussed.”
“I see,” said Nartam. He stared at Kiril as if trying to decide on a issue of great importance.
“But you musn’t take too long. The final confrontation is imminent. He’ll be here soon – on the full moon – in this very room...” His voice trailed away like the last chords of a song. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he turned back to Kiril with a manic smile. “The symmetry is excellent. You know that he and I are essentially the same age.”
“Yes, I know,” said Kiril.
“I want you to get a battalion of your best men – put Konrad in charge of them – and have them patrol the southernmost perimeter, near the trench.”
Kiril nodded but shot Nartam a warning look to say nothing further. They both looked at Bilblox, who lay motionless on the bed, apparently still suffering from withdrawal. In fact, Bilblox was watching the two men closely through nearly closed eyes. He had always been an astute observer of human behavior. Although he had very little formal education, and had only read a few books in his life, he knew people – their expressions, tics and hesitations. This skill had made him an excellent player of any game of chance, and on more than one occasion, it had saved his life.
One thing was quite apparent to Bilblox – it appeared that both Kiril and Nartam believed Alfonso was coming to Dargora. That was the only conclusion which could fit Nartam’s words – a final confrontation with someone who was essentially the same age. It had to be Alfonso. Was he really coming? What made Nartam so certain? And there was something else that Bilblox had noticed as well. For some reason both Kiril and Nartam wanted Bilblox’s company. Bilblox could think of no reason why this would be the case, but he felt certain that it was true.
Kiril walked over to Bilblox’s bed and shook him gently. Several seconds, Bilblox moaned, stretched and with apparent effort, lifted his head.
“Come on,” said Kiril.
“Where to?” asked Bilblox skeptically.
“We have to meet some people,” said Kiril, “Some old friends of yours.”
Bilblox studied Kiril’s face. Kiril seemed uneasy. He’s scared I’ll say ‘no,’ thought Bilblox. He’s afraid that I’ll tell Nartam I want to stay here and that Nartam will agree. The conversation between Kiril and Nartam had kindled a spark of hope in Bilblox. For some reason, both of them need me, thought Bilblox.
There was a chance here, an opportunity to be seized and exploited – if only Bilblox could figure out how.
Chapter 27: The Terms of the Deal
Bilblox rose to his feet slowly, struggled to gain his balance, and followed Kiril out of the room – never looking back or stopping to bid Nartam goodbye. He followed Kiril out into the hallway. The hallway was long and narrow, with many doorways, much like the hallway in the hull of a large ship. The wooden walls seemed to creak and the hallway itself seemed to be swaying slightly. Kiril walked at a brisk pace. Bilblox decided not to say anything or to ask questions while they were still within earshot of Nartam. At the end of the hallway, Kiril pushed his way through a doorway and out onto an open-air deck. Bilblox followed. The view was breathtaking. They were on the deck of an old wooden ship that appeared to be suspended in the sky. For the moment, at least, the clouds had cleared and there was a spectacular view. Bilblox could see the icy ground below, the slave barracks, and the Shadow Tree with its wiggling branches; beyond this he could see a landscape covered with millions of trees made entirely of stone and he knew that this must be the legendary Petrified Forest that surrounded Dargora.
Kiril conti
nued walking. There were other ships nearby, just like this one, and they were connected by a series of swinging rope bridges. All of them sat on giant pillars that rose up from the ground below. A stiff wind was blowing. Kiril proceeded across one of these rope bridges, moving quickly, never once glancing downward at the ground below. Bilblox steadied himself and hurried to keep up. They crossed two more bridges until they reached the deck of a small ship.
“Where are ya takin’ me?” asked Bilblox, panting for breath. He felt incredibly weak.
“There is something you need to do for me,” said Kiril, as they continued across the deck of the ship.
“Why should I help you?” said Bilblox, hurrying to stay with him.
“It’s not me you’ll be helping,” said Kiril, “It’s her.” Kiril stopped walking and pointed at a thin girl, with delicate features, dressed in a simple black cloak. Bilblox hadn’t noticed her at first, because she was sitting between two large coils of rope, but now he stared at her unabashedly.
“Resuza?” inquired Bilblox hesitantly.
“No,” said Kiril, “It’s her sister – Naomi.”
“Her sister... you gotta be kiddin’ me,” said Bilblox. “You want me to help her – how?”
“You’re going to save her life,” said Kiril matter-of-factly.
“That’s all?” replied Bilblox. “Anything else while I’m at it?”
“Only you can do it,” said Kiril, his tone conveyed his seriousness.
Bilblox stared at Kiril and then at the girl. She remained silent, but it was apparent that she was quite scared. “And why do you care about this girl so much?”
“I just do,” Kiril replied.
“And that’s why you brought me with you – instead of leaving me to die?” asked Bilblox.
Kiril nodded.
“Does Nartam know about this?” asked Bilblox.
Kiril hesitated, pursed his lips, and said, “No.”
Bilblox whistled, then despite himself, he laughed. It felt good to laugh, for a moment he forgot about his headache. “Kiril old boy, you’re in a jam, ain’t ya?”