by Isaac Hooke
"Jeremy." Hoodwink nearly spat the name. "Bad move, Briar. Very bad move. Because now I'll have your hide."
Hoodwink drew his green sword and Cora screamed. Hoodwink had wanted to scare Briar, not her, and when he saw the look of fear on his wife's face, a look that said "I don't even know who you are anymore," Hoodwink felt utter shame.
The knock came again, more frantic.
Hoodwink raced into the hall past Cora and Briar, making for the rear entrance. He heard Briar open the front door to the troops, heard the clank as the gols dashed onto the travertine floor behind him.
He swept through the kitchen toward the back door. The scullery maids screamed at the sight of his sword.
The back door abruptly flung open and reserve troops flooded in with swords raised.
8
Hoodwink backtracked through the kitchen and took the short staircase in the hall moments before the troops from the front converged on him. He climbed those stairs three at a time and came out at a lung-burning dash onto the second floor. Shouts came from behind as he sprinted across the deerskin carpet, toward the window that backed onto the rear alley. He leaped, and swung his sword to shatter the glass as he struck.
He was counting on the deep snow drifts in the alley outside to pad his fall, and he wasn't disappointed.
"Hey!" One of the sentries assigned to the back door outside spotted him.
Covered in snow, Hoodwink rolled to his feet and waded through the alleyway drifts, the shouts of pursuit harrying him on.
He stumbled over the windrow that blocked the end of the alleyway, and emerged onto the main street, thankful that the gols had shoveled this quarter of the city.
He ran for some time. Behind, the guards gave chase, harrying him on.
He veered onto Luckdown district and the path became bumpy with unshoveled snowpack.
Hoodwink nearly slipped more than once, though he had nails hammered point-first through the soles of his boots. The shouts grew closer. He glanced over his shoulder. The guards were only paces behind.
Hoodwink took a sharp right at Down Street. Too sharp. He slid right into a foodcart.
He scrambled to his feet—
Into the arms of a guard.
"Give 'er up, krub!" the gol said, tightening his arms around Hoodwink's chest. Others quickly approached—
Hoodwink angled the guard between himself and the bottom of Down Street, and then he hurled himself backward. He and the guard tumbled onto the sloped snowpack and gravity took over. The two slid down the steep hill, picking up speed by the moment. Bumps in the packed snow jolted the two continuously. The few street-goers gave the pair a wide berth, not wanting to join in that perilous slide.
The soldier tightened his grip during the descent, slowly crushing the air from Hoodwink's lungs. Hoodwink tried to pry that grip open, but it was like trying to take off one of the collars. He focused on the spark inside him instead. He wouldn't be able to generate much. He closed his eyes, and released a flare of electricity up and down his torso. The man's arms jolted away.
Handy, that.
Still sliding down, Hoodwink turned and gave the gol a good punch to the nose. Finally the road curved up to catch them, and the two slid to a halt. Hoodwink scrambled to his feet, kicked the gol in the belly for good measure, and raced on. About five seconds behind him, the four remaining soldiers slid to the bottom of the street and gave chase.
There was a market ahead, one that was always crowded after snowstorms. Sure enough the throngs were packing it today. He hurried in among the crowds, weaving his way past peddlers, entertainers, and beggars. He quickly sat down beside a stand of skewered dog meat, lowered his head and extended his hand like the beggars he so feared, and waited.
The four guards jostled their way through the market. They passed almost right in front of him, oblivious to his presence.
The instant they had gone, Hoodwink stood up and hurried from the square.
He'd made it.
It wasn't long before he reached Forever Street, the road that lay in the shadow of the Gate. You could circle the entire city if you walked that street long enough. Beside it, the aptly-named wall that was the Forever Gate reached into the sky, the topmost edges lost in the clouds. The Forever Gate entombed the city, preventing all access to the Outside.
He passed the section where Ari had placed the bomb the day before. The area was blackened, but otherwise unharmed. One would have expected the gols to beef up their presence after an attack like that, but there actually seemed fewer gols along this portion of the wall today. There weren't enough of them to watch every section of the Gate every waking moment, Hoodwink supposed, especially when the wall was, by all indications, indestructible.
He soon met up with Leader. The ancient man observed the Forever Gate from the shade of a vendor who sold maps and miniature replicas of the city.
"Your goodbyes went well?" Leader asked, his breath misting. He stared off to the side in that way he had of not meeting one's eye.
"Splendid." Hoodwink picked up a replica of the city.
The vendor immediately stood up. "Touch and pay," the middle-aged woman said.
Hoodwink gingerly returned the replica.
Ari came up beside him and saved him from the woman by giving him a hug.
"How did it go?" Ari said. She carried two duffel bags, one big and one small, on each shoulder.
Hoodwink smiled sadly. "Cora says good-bye."
"You told her everything?"
He nodded.
"I'll seek her out," Ari said. "Let her know you spoke the truth."
"She knows." Hoodwink shook his head. "But don't go to her. It's probably better if she never sees you again."
Ari seemed about to contest him, but then she bit back whatever it was she was going to say.
Leader rested a palsied hand on his shoulder and finally turned that penetrating gaze on him. "Time wastes. Are you ready?"
Hoodwink shrugged. "As I'll ever be."
Ari handed the larger duffel bag to Hoodwink, and kept the smaller one for herself. Then he and Ari walked on either side of Leader, helping the haggard man through the streets. Leader verbally steered them down the byways to a secluded back alley.
The snow was never shoveled here, nor was it packed by the tread of passersby, so the three of them had to wade and dig through snow that was sometimes chest high. They reached a rusty iron gate that was nearly buried by the drifts, and Leader opened it with a key he'd brought along. The gate was like a portcullis, and they were able to slide it upward with some difficulty. Once through, Hoodwink saw that the alley offered secluded access to a portion of the Gate.
"Why didn't you put the bomb here?" he said.
Ari shook her head. "There'd be too much damage to the neighboring buildings. We didn't want any human casualties, remember?"
The three dug their way forward through the snow, until the sky-reaching wall consumed everything else. The Forever Gate. What looked like a flat, gray surface from far away was actually a craggy mountain of sheer, infinite stone. A silver rope dangled from the heights, and Hoodwink followed it with his eyes. He couldn't see where the rope anchored—it became lost in the coarse texture of the wall a mile or so up.
"You expect me to climb this?" Hoodwink pulled at the rope. He felt the echo of a distant vibration pass through the material. The sensation was eerie, like plucking the string of a giant lute.
"Think of it as a symbol." Leader gazed blankly up the wall. "Of the hurdles you've faced in this life. You have overcome them all to get to this point. Now you must overcome this last." Leader turned his eyes downward, to the snow drift piled against the wall. "We tried to dig under it at first. Like the sappers of yesteryear. That proved a mistake. The wall is buried in the ground at least as deep as it is high. And digging through frozen ground isn't a pleasant thing." He pursed his lips. "It was the time of our exploratory years. When we believed the Outside a sanctuary. A few of us came up with the rope idea.
Erdus and Callus were the first to surmount the wall. They'd practiced for years, taught themselves the lost art of mountaineering. It was they who anchored the ropes. Good men. Their loss was irreplaceable." Leader's eyes drifted upward. "The climb will take around five hours. You'll find a new rope every half hour or so. There are ten in total. You've committed the address to memory?"
Hoodwink sighed. "John Baker, son of Arrold Baker, 18 Market Street." Though not a User, John was a close cousin of Leader. John assumed quite the risk by being their middle man. Hoodwink hoped the gols didn't use him to hunt the rest of the Users down. But Ari and the others were too smart to let that happen.
Leader motioned to the duffel bag slung over Hoodwink's shoulder, the one Ari had given him. "Put on the climbing gear."
Hoodwink slid the bag to the ground. He removed his cloak and handed it to Ari, and then he opened the bag and retrieved a balaclava. He slid the warm cloth down over his face, properly aligning the eyeholes so he could see. He was worried at first that he wouldn't have any air without holes for the nose and mouth, but he seemed to breathe fine through the balaclava's fabric. His breath did sound loud in his ears, though.
Next he swapped his thick mittens for the thinner climbing gloves contained in the bag.
"Gloves with leather palms for rope handling," Leader explained. "The tips can be folded back, and they become fingerless if you ever need a better grip. When you expose the fingers you'll have to expend charge to keep from getting frostbite, of course."
Hoodwink slid the top section of the gloves open, and sure enough the tips of his fingers were exposed. He slid the gloves closed again. He reached into the duffel bag and removed a thick jacket and extra layer of pants.
"Down jacket," Leader said as Hoodwink slid the jacket over his fleece sweater and buttoned up the front. "One of the thickest jackets available. Made with the down feathers from the Eider ducks of the south. You'll be hot at first wearing that, but trust me, as you near the top of the Gate, you'll be glad you have it. The pants are down-stuffed as well. You'll have to leave your sword."
Hoodwink's fingers protectively clasped the hilt. "What if I need it?" His voice sounded muffled inside the balaclava.
Leader compressed his lips. "It'll only weight you down. Won't fit in the down pants anyway."
Ari stepped forward. "I'll give you my dagger," she offered.
Hoodwink reluctantly unbuckled his sword and scabbard and gave it to Ari. He accepted her small dagger in exchange and stuffed it into an inner pocket of his jacket. Hoodwink slid the pants over his boots and up onto his existing woolen trousers, covering the dagger. He buttoned up the pants, and when he lowered his hands the jacket hem tumbled over his waist, ensuring that his midsection would remain warm during the climb.
Hoodwink retrieved the next item from the bag—a pair of goggles.
"Those are to protect your eyes from wind," Leader said. "Frozen corneas aren't a fun thing. You're familiar with frostbite? Well, when a frozen cornea thaws out, it's like a third degree burn in the eyes."
Hoodwink pulled the strap and gingerly lowered the goggles over his head. They fit securely over the eyeholes of the balaclava so that no portion of his face was now exposed. Although the periphery of his vision was blocked by the goggles, he could see well enough.
The last items in the bag were a pair of spiked metal frames a little larger than his palms, with leather straps on top. Hoodwink held them up curiously.
"Those are for your boots," Leader said. "Crampons, they're called. They give your feet purchase where there is none. You won't really need them until you reach the icy patches higher up. Still, they shouldn't wear down too badly against ordinary rock, and they'll be a hassle to put on midway the climb, so I suggest you strap them on now."
Hoodwink slipped the crampons over his boots. The metal spikes protruded from all sides of each boot, with two particularly long, mandible-like extensions at the fronts. He tightened the straps, fitting the crampons securely to his boots. When he stood, it felt like he walked on nails, and he had to extend his arms for balance.
The bag was now empty, and Hoodwink returned it to Ari. She stowed his cloak and sword inside, then slung it over her shoulder. She reached behind his head and raised the fur-lined hood of his jacket. She pulled the drawstrings, tightening the hood around his balaclava.
"You were damn right about it being hot," Hoodwink said, his voice sounding even more muffled now.
Ari handed him the second, smaller duffel bag she carried.
"In that one," Leader said. "You'll find the usual suspects. A water bladder. Probably will freeze solid higher up. A pee bottle. Probably won't need it. Salted meat. Probably won't be hungry. Couple of light ice axes. Oh, and the ever important rigged diary. Use it. Keep us updated."
The Users had either found the diaries or created them in years bygone—it wasn't made clear to Hoodwink. Whatever the case, the books came in pairs. When you wrote in one, your words appeared in the other no matter how far away you were.
Hoodwink secured the smaller duffel bag over his shoulder.
"You never told me," Hoodwink said. "Did you give diaries to the others who went over this wall?"
Leader's palsy seemed to have gotten worse in the last few moments—his lips twitched and his eyes blinked spasmodically. Maybe he was just excited. Or nervous. "We did give them diaries, yes."
Hoodwink wanted the man to look at him, wanted to stare into those eyes and see what truths he could read there, but Leader didn't oblige.
"And what did you get back?" Hoodwink said.
A smile came to Leader's twitching lips. It reminded Hoodwink of a slithering snake. "The truth."
The old man was shaking all over now, and he removed one of his mittens and extended the palm toward Hoodwink. The start of a handshake.
Hoodwink accepted the palm.
A massive surge of current passed from Leader through Hoodwink's gloves and into his hand. Hoodwink couldn't move or break the grip. He could only stand there, just shaking spasmodically with Leader for long moments.
When the old man finally released him, both of them collapsed.
Viewing the world from where he lay sprawled in the snow, Hoodwink blinked a few times and then, feeling strangely full of energy, he scrambled to his feet.
The spark veritably flared inside him.
Leader had recharged him.
Ari helped Leader rise. The old man had stopped twitching, and his face was deathly pale. His breath came in wheezes.
"Thank you," Hoodwink said.
Leader nodded slowly. "I have one last... gift for you." His voice sounded weak, and Hoodwink had to lean in closer to hear. "A word of caution, really. Once you reach the tenth rope, you're in the Death Zone. So high that there's a third less oxygen than down here. You'll feel utterly exhausted because of the thin air. You won't be able to think clearly. Nothing worse than being at the top of the world, balanced between life and death, and not being able to think. One thing is for certain—stay in the Death Zone too long, and you die."
"What are you saying?"
Leader smiled grimly. "Keep climbing. At the very top, you'll want to fall asleep. Truly, you will." The old man gazed into Hoodwink's eyes for the first time this meeting. There was a certain sternness to them. "Fall asleep and you die."
"Wait a second, I know a few things about mountains," Hoodwink said. "First of all, you have to acclimatize yourself to the higher altitude. You can't just climb and expect your body to survive those conditions. Secondly, the Death Zone, as you call it, usually happens around eight thousand meters. If I'm only going to be climbing for five hours, I doubt I'll get anywhere close to the necessary height."
"Trust me," Leader said. "Whatever you think you know about mountains, doesn't apply here. Heed my advice. You will be in the Death Zone by the tenth rope. Now go. Before you change your mind. And good luck."
Ari kissed Hoodwink on the cheek, through the balaclava. "Thank you. You're saving me by
doing this. You're saving us all."
"I doubt it." He stared at her through the goggles. "But I'll do my best. I will." He wrapped his gloved fingers tentatively around the rope.
"Hoodwink?" Ari said, a hint of urgency in her tone.
"Yes?"
"Don't forget what you told me." She was blinking a little more than was usual. "Don't you ever forget it."
He was confused. "What did I say?"
"That you're coming back!" She sounded exasperated.
Hoodwink nodded carefully. "I haven't forgotten that, don't you worry." He could never forget that. He forced a smile. "I'll return. I promise. If I have to crawl through the pit of hell to do it, I'll come back for you. I swear it."
Ari's lips were trembling. She turned away to hide her face from him.
Hoodwink braced his boots against the Gate and began the long climb into eternity.
9
Hoodwink walked the rocky surface, raising himself hand-over-hand along the rope. He hadn't known what to expect, but this wasn't so bad. "Aid climbing," the Users had called it—rope laid over a route to make it easier for future climbers. He couldn't imagine what those first two climbers must have gone through to place the rope.
The climb proved a little monotonous. It was somewhat similar to trudging on the ground, bent-over, gripping a rope for balance. He understood now what it felt like to be a crooked old man like Leader. Except Leader was only twenty-nine, prematurely aged by the power that flowed through him. The same future awaited Hoodwink and his daughter. Well, whether or not he'd see that future was the question, wasn't it? He had to make it past the next few hours to start with.
The first rope went by easily enough. Hand over hand, foot over foot. Thirty minutes or so transpired.
The second rope came into view. It overlapped the first rope by some paces, so that Hoodwink could've switched or used both of them if he wanted. The first rope ended in an anchor of small cords that passed through metallic loops wedged into the stone wall.