by T. S. Graham
“But these people are dead.”
The Keeper beamed as she lifted an identical sheet of fabric from the center vault and proceeded to cover the skeleton within. “Dead?” she repeated. “You will find that this word has a different meaning here than you’re used to.”
The old sailor’s face flashed through Sophina’s mind, and she took an involuntary step back. She was about to take another step when Mrs. Tanner’s hand touched her shoulder.
“No,” said Mrs. Tanner, “they will be nothing like him.” Somehow, she knew exactly what Sophina was thinking about.
“The Elders went willingly into the afterlife,” the Keeper said. “What you saw in the cavern did not.” She covered the third skeleton with yet another sheet of silken fabric. “This will hide sights not meant for a child’s eyes,” she explained as the cloth settled snugly over the bones and trinkets. She then snatched a wooden club from a stand—and struck it down upon the circle of leather with startling force. The resulting boom rang throughout the surrounding catacombs.
As the echo faded down distant corridors, the Keeper returned the club to the stand and strode out of the room.
“Where is she going?” asked Sophina.
“She has called forth the Elders,” Talfore answered. “Her job is done.”
Sophina faced the coffins. The cloths that covered the bones remained still; there was no sign of life. The others watched, but the stench that had soured her stomach back in the corridor lingered, making it difficult for her to be so patient.
“How long do we have to . . . wait?” Her throat tightened as, within the center vault, a piece of fabric over the skull’s oral cavity was blown upward by a puff of air. The cloth settled back over the protruding teeth until another puff sent it rippling aloft.
Sophina knew what she was seeing but she still couldn’t believe it. The puffs of air were breaths! The skeleton that looked like it would disintegrate if touched by the slightest breeze was breathing as though it were alive.
And now an even more astonishing phenomenon was occurring. The gaps between the skeleton’s ribs were filling in with what appeared to be flesh. The breaths grew stronger as the rest of the bones were enveloped by solid material, including the fingers and up-pointed toes. The details of the process were obscured by the cloth, but it was obvious that the body taking shape beneath was that of a woman.
And the process was now under way in the other caskets. Sophina watched transfixed as, one by one, all three freshly formed figures rose to their feet as if aided by some invisible force from below and stood motionless behind the silken sheets.
A slender hand rose up behind the fabric in the center vault and, with the swipe of a finger, sent it fluttering to the floor. The woman revealed was anything but the undead fiend Sophina feared she would see.
She was beautiful. Her dark, slightly translucent skin framed stunning blue eyes that gazed down at Sophina. She was young—not a day over thirty—and nothing about her appearance conjured up the word elder.
The fabric in the outer vaults fell to the floor, revealing two more equally vibrant women. The woman on the left had light skin, red hair, and dazzling green eyes. The one on the right had olive skin, jet-black hair, and long, curved lashes that made her brown eyes seem larger than life. The burgundy cloaks they wore resembled the ones spread beneath the bones, but, like the women themselves, they didn’t quite look solid.
Sophina glanced behind the women, finding the skeletons as they were. What had transpired beneath the cloth wasn’t flesh materializing over bone after all. It was just the process of these ethereal beings passing through the vaults from whatever place they had come from.
“So, it has begun,” said the blue-eyed woman, her velvety voice almost putting Sophina at ease. “Rarely does one come to our world without being followed by another.”
Sophina stopped breathing as the blue-eyed woman levitated out of her coffin and floated to the floor.
“Tell me, child, what do your people call you?”
“S-S-Sophina . . .” Her voice was muffled by the thumping of her own heart in her ears. Without warning, another voice spoke over her shoulder.
“There is no need to fear us.”
Sophina spun to face the green-eyed woman, who now descended beside her.
“Our purpose is to counsel the living,” she continued, “and nothing more.”
The brown-eyed woman now glided toward Sophina. “Tell us, Sophina, why have you come here?” she asked.
“It’s my fault that she’s here,” Mrs. Tanner answered for Sophina. “I was careless with the drahtuah that was entrusted to me. I should have heeded your advice when I first stood before you, and gone home and never returned.”
“Yes,” the blue-eyed woman agreed, “but what’s done is done. To this day, no blood has been shed because of your choice to come and go as you please.”
“Or has it?” asked the green-eyed woman. She looked at Jantu, whose eyes were cast to the floor. “Jantu, where is your brother? He was asked to return with you after your journey up the mountain.”
Jantu raised mournful eyes to his inquisitor. “Verrah hassah der—”
“Please, Jantu,” interrupted the green-eyed woman, “address us in the language of our guests. As a Protector, it will be your duty to not keep secrets from them.”
“Forgive me,” Jantu said to Mrs. Tanner and Sophina. “Verrah, son of Talfore, has begun his journey through the afterlife.”
“We are saddened by your loss,” the brown-eyed woman said to Jantu and Talfore. “Verrah lived a life of purpose. You can be proud, knowing that he will soon take his place beside your ancestors. Tell us, how did his body meet its end?”
“We hid within the Crater of Pillars, as you instructed,” Jantu recounted, “and discovered that it is true: The vrahkoles are mining solid drahtuah from the mountain and gathering it within the shadows of the crater.” His eyes darted to the side as he struggled for words. “But a necrah vrahkole was guarding the drahtuah. We ran for the sunlight, but the beast was too fast. It dragged Verrah deep into the crater, where I could not go without sacrificing my own life. . . . I heard my brother scream as he died, and I could do nothing to help him.”
The Elders were shaken by the word necrah.
“A necrah vrahkole?” the blue-eyed Elder said in disbelief. “But vrahkoles are soulless creatures whose lives end with their last pitiful breath. They have proven this through thousands of years of brutality.”
“This is true,” the green-eyed Elder agreed. “Only the highest orders of beings carry on once their bodies have returned to the earth. Perhaps you were mistaken.”
“I was not mistaken,” Jantu insisted.
“I mean no disrespect,” Mrs. Tanner said to the Elders, “but what if you’re wrong about the vrahkoles? What if they do carry on after death, but in a different place than you and me? There is more than one plane of existence for the living; perhaps there is also more than one for the dead.”
The brown-eyed Elder glided past Sophina on her way to Mrs. Tanner.
“There is much that we do not know,” she conceded. “But, if a necrah vrahkole has returned to walk with its descendants, why would it guard the drahtuah? Vrahkoles have dwelt within Mount Vahkar for thousands of years and have shown no interest in the drahtuah that is trapped there. If the living do not desire it, why would the dead?”
“Perhaps they now have a reason to desire it,” Mrs. Tanner answered. “Last night, the vrahkoles used drahtuah to open a portal to our world. They stole three of our children, including Sophina’s brother, and brought them here.”
The Elders backed up at once, jolted by the revelation.
“Are you sure it was the vrahkoles?” the blue-eyed woman asked. “Such a complex act seems beyond their means.”
“Sophina saw her brother being taken,” Mrs. Tanner elaborated. “Her account of the event leaves little doubt that the vrahkoles are involved.”
Talfore then spok
e for the first time. “A guard claimed he saw the vrahkoles fleeing the valley before dawn, flying on the backs of grahdors with strangely clothed children at their sides.”
“This is an ominous sign,” the green-eyed Elder mused. “There’s but one reason why the vrahkoles would lure those children from their home: to wage war against Trellah. The best-trained Protector is no match for a child who is blinded by a thirst for drahtuah. If the vrahkoles control the drahtuah, they control the child.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Tanner agreed, “and that’s why I must go to Mount Vahkar. I’m the only one strong enough to release the drahtuah and retrieve the children.”
“The laws forbidding your kind from interfering with Trellian affairs were created because thousands of our ancestors died at the hands of a few of yours,” the brown-eyed Elder said.
“I respect your laws, but there’s no time to waste,” Mrs. Tanner pushed. “The vrahkoles have already gathered enough drahtuah within the crater to trigger a radiation storm, the likes of which hasn’t been seen since the last oppressors stepped foot in your world. Many of your towers were damaged by the winds, and a woman of our world was injured when the corresponding storm struck our village. The hands of the children of my world are strong. If those hands are used to mine even more drahtuah, then the next storm will come soon—and it will be even more destructive.”
The Elders floated apart, each considering what had been brought to light.
“All I ask is that you allow Talfore and Jantu to guide me,” Mrs. Tanner said. “Completing the journey by sunset will be difficult without the help of someone who has explored the mountain before. Once I reclaim the children and release the drahtuah, I promise to leave Trellah and never return.”
“How will you release the drahtuah?” asked the blue-eyed Elder. “You’ll be powerless against the necrah that guards it. The living cannot vanquish the dead.”
“I’ve been told that Mount Vahkar’s waterfall flows from an underground reservoir that lies above the crater,” said Mrs. Tanner, her eyes gleaming brighter than ever, “and that part of this reservoir lies just below the surface. If I can get to that spot, I can use firestones gathered from the lake to blast through the rock. Doing so should flood the crater with water, releasing all the drahtuah at once.”
“But such a volume of drahtuah has never been released at once,” the blue-eyed Elder warned. “Would it be a wise thing to do?”
“I believe it’s the drahtuah’s radiation that we should fear most—not its conversion from solid to gas,” Mrs. Tanner explained. “Yes, a reaction of that magnitude will create one of the largest holes ever seen in the fabric of space-time, but I’m confident that the fabric will repair itself, just as it always has.”
Sophina had never heard Mrs. Tanner speak with more confidence. It was clear she believed her plan could be accomplished, and this made Sophina believe it too—despite the fact that she had no idea what firestones were.
“That may well be true,” the blue-eyed Elder admitted. “But the vrahkoles will be expecting you after Jantu’s failed mission. With a necrah aiding them, you won’t survive the shadows of the Crater of Pillars, for the only way to the reservoir is through it.”
“I’ve heard talk of this Crater of Pillars,” Mrs. Tanner said, “but I must admit that I don’t know what it is.”
“Ruins of an ancient calendar that lie at the entrance to the vrahkoles’ lair,” Talfore explained. “Thousands of stone pillars stand together, casting shadows on the crater floor—even when the sun is high. My lady is right: facing a necrah there would be suicide.”
“Then we’ll go around the crater,” Mrs. Tanner suggested.
“It is surrounded by impassable cliffs,” informed Talfore.
“Then there has to be another way,” said Mrs. Tanner.
“Perhaps there is,” offered Talfore at second thought. “There are more cliffs on the other side of the mountain. Within them are tunnels that lead to the vrahkoles’ lair. From there, we must cross only a small part of the crater. The vrahkoles expect their enemies to attack from the west. They’re cunning defenders of their lair, but they do not have eyes in back of their heads.”
“But that would take you through the heart of Umbyan territory,” the green-eyed Elder exclaimed. “If you’re seen, they will declare war on Trellah. The last time that happened, our city was all but destroyed by the ice dwellers.”
“Yes,” agreed Talfore, “but our guest is right. We may all meet our end—Trellians and Umbyans alike—if we do not stop the vrahkoles.”
“Your fears are well founded,” said the brown-eyed beauty, “but there is another danger to consider. The radiation within the crater will be more powerful than what Kate has been exposed to in the valley. What if she is overwhelmed, and turns against you?”
“I’m confident that won’t happen,” Mrs. Tanner said. “I believe that the minds of my people can be fully altered only if we’re unaware of what’s happening. If I understand the radiation’s effects, and consciously fight them, I can overcome them—whether I face a single drahtuah stone or ten thousand.”
“Your faith is admirable,” said the blue-eyed Elder, “but what if you’re wrong?”
“It is possible,” Mrs. Tanner admitted, “and that’s why Talfore and Jantu will carry these.” She extracted a long wooden box from her cloak and opened it, revealing a feather-balanced dart and a wooden tube. “This is the weapon I promised your people . . . Your staffs are useless against me, but when this dart is blown through this tube with enough force, the needle will pierce my skin. A substance that will render me unconscious will be applied to its tip. Once removed from the radiation, I’ll come to my senses and we can devise a new plan.”
The green-eyed Elder inspected the dart. “A weapon so small can stop someone as powerful as you?” she asked with amazement.
“Yes,” Mrs. Tanner answered. “Talfore and Jantu have practiced shooting the dart, and they will not miss. This is the safeguard you’ve been looking for. Finally, a tool the Protectors can use to neutralize a threat from my world before it takes root.”
“Impressive,” said the brown-eyed Elder. “I’m convinced that you’re ready for this journey. But what role will Sophina play? Surely you don’t expect her to join you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mrs. Tanner confirmed. “I’ll take her home at first light. Little time will be lost if it’s done at the river, where the lands of our worlds are known to intersect.”
“No!” Sophina cried. “I’m going with you!”
“You aren’t, and it’s not up for discussion,” countered Mrs. Tanner. “I won’t be responsible for your mother losing another child.”
“You won’t be responsible because it’s not your choice to make—it’s mine!”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re thirteen years old—hardly old enough to make life-and-death decisions.”
“I know what I’m doing. You have no right to tell m—”
A frigid jolt of pain sliced through Sophina’s jaw as her head jerked sideways, forcing her to face the scowling blue-eyed Elder. As her head turned, she caught a glimpse of the Elder’s other hand passing straight through Mrs. Tanner’s chin!
“The choice is neither of yours to make,” the blue-eyed Elder reminded them sternly. “You are guests here, and bound by the laws of Trellah.”
“I’m sorry,” apologized Mrs. Tanner as Sophina clenched her throbbing jaw. “I just don’t think she’s ready to deal with what could happen out there. She’s mature for her age, yes, but she’s still a child.”
“We agree,” said the blue-eyed Elder. “At dawn, Talfore and Jantu will escort you to the river so that you may bring Sophina home.”
“Thank you.”
“That’s not right!” Sophina barked. She was the only person here who loved Eliot—and they were acting like that didn’t matter! “I didn’t come this far to turn my back on Eliot! How can you decide for me without even listening to what I have
to say?”
The Elders froze, taken aback by Sophina’s raw display of emotion.
“Perhaps I can give my ladies a reason to reconsider,” Talfore said.
Mrs. Tanner shot Talfore a look of dismay, but he didn’t notice.
“The tunnels I spoke of lead to every chamber of the vrahkoles’ lair,” he continued. “If we find the place where the children are imprisoned, Sophina can wait there, hidden in the walls, while we move on to release the drahtuah. Whether we succeed or fail, our actions should draw the vrahkoles’ attention long enough for her to escape with the young ones.”
“A diversion,” mulled the green-eyed Elder.
Talfore nodded as the brown-eyed Elder drifted toward Sophina.
“Perhaps we should hear her out,” she suggested. “Tell us, Sophina, why are you willing to risk so much for a brother who may already be lost?”
Sophina hesitated. She knew what she felt, but emotions weren’t always easy to express in words. “Because . . . if I don’t go, and I never see him again, I’ll never be able to forgive myself. I’d rather die trying to save him than live knowing I did nothing.”
“Brave,” said the blue-eyed Elder. “Brave, but foolish—for if you die before your time, all that was good in your life could be forgotten, and you will take only your misery with you into the afterlife. Are you willing to accept that burden?”
“Yes,” Sophina croaked. “If I don’t, I’ll have nothing but misery to take with me when I die, anyway.”
The blue-eyed Elder drifted back, her admiring eyes set on Sophina. “Very well, Sophina of Thomasville, your request is granted.”
Sophina heard Mrs. Tanner exhale in disappointment.
“For two hundred years the barrier between our worlds went undisturbed,” said the blue-eyed Elder. “Let us hope that you’re the last of your kind to know of this place. Now, leave us, and choose your steps wisely—for the vrahkoles won’t be the only challenge you’ll face.”
Sophina had a sinking feeling that the blue-eyed Elder’s final warning was mostly intended for her as she followed the others back into the catacombs. Before they started to ascend, Mrs. Tanner turned and fixed her blazing eyes on Talfore.