Ten

  Danger: Boundary to the Forbidden Zone. In the rays of the morning sun now breaking through the scattered clouds, Jason stared at a wooden sign nailed to the wide trunk of an old oak. The black-lettered words felt like pinchers that drew dark sayings from his mind. The older men in the commune often quoted sages and warned about the evils that lurked in the forbidden zone. Misty ghosts called snatchers stalked the forests, waiting for unwary travelers in order to suck out their souls. Invisible doorways led to a domain of darkness where demons would hang intruders from a tree and slowly dip their heads into pots of boiling oil. Carnivorous plants abounded. Like expert archers, they would shoot poisonous thorns at passersby and use crawling vines to drag them into their clutches.

  An old song one of the gardeners used to chant came to mind.

  Evil weeds, disguised as flowers,

  Keep away your stealing powers.

  Treasured thoughts are mine to hold;

  Take them not within your fold.

  Jason clutched his axe more tightly. Even though he had long doubted these stories, just thinking about them brought a chill. Every tall tale had some seed of truth, and they would soon learn what mysteries gave rise to such grave terrors.

  He looked at Elyssa. Now clean and dry in her lumberjack ensemble, she glanced around, as if taking in every iota of data. Was she noticing the way moss hung from low-reaching branches? The thickness of autumn debris on the narrow path? Or was she taking in the variety of reds in the few remaining leaves, each hue so slightly different that only she could tell them apart? Even as a little girl, she had chattered about the subtle changes around them. Back then he had thought she was just playing make-believe, but now he knew better. A Diviner noticed everything.

  Randall yawned and stretched his arms. "So what now?"

  Tibalt tapped the sign with his axe handle. "This is as far as my old noggin remembers clearly. The last time I went to the gateway, I was just a little tyke, and the dungeon spiders spun cobwebs in my brain over the years. I could try to lead us, but we wouldn't want to fall into any bottomless pits."

  "Bottomless pits?" Elyssa repeated. "That's not possible."

  "Is that so, little lady?" Tibalt raised a finger. "My own pappy told me about them, and he never told a lie in his life."

  Elyssa winked at Jason before shifting back to Tibalt. "Can you tell me who fell into one of these bottomless pits and then came back to report that there was no bottom?"

  "Well..." Tibalt's head drooped. "I suppose someone fell clean through to the other side of the world and popped out a hole there. He would have to learn to walk upside down, but you can get used to almost anything."

  Elyssa grinned. "I'll accept that, Tibber. Let's try to avoid the bottomless pits."

  Tibalt pointed at Jason. "Our next step is up to you. Which way is the litmus finger pointing?"

  Jason glanced at his shirt and unfastened two buttons, revealing the odd mark over his heart. The patch of skin pulsed. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be feeling."

  Elyssa laid a hand on his shoulder. "You're better at finding your way through the forest than anyone I know, even better than Adrian."

  "Not better than Randall." Jason nodded toward him. "He won the open division of the tracking tournament."

  Randall waved a hand. "Adrian was sick that day. I think he's the best."

  "In any case," Elyssa continued, sounding exasperated, "maybe the finger will enhance the gifts you already have. Just start walking and trust your senses. I'll be right behind you, Tibalt can come next, and then Randall can guard our backs."

  Randall pulled his photo gun from the holster. "That suits me. I just hope this will dry out soon."

  Jason looked down at the path, which ended abruptly at the old oak and was replaced by sporadic gaps in the browning underbrush. After heaving a sigh, he marched ahead. Maybe Adrian had passed this way. But what map did he have? Who had told him how to follow in Frederick's steps? Had Frederick left a clue somewhere?

  With every footfall, Jason concentrated on the sensory input. As usual, the scents of the forest--drying leaves, rotting logs, and pine--drifted in, as well as the subtle indicators the gentle breeze delivered--lower humidity, indicating clearing weather; wildflowers, a hint that a meadow of grasslands lay nearby, which would be a good place to get a better view of the land; and something new, something powerful. Was it emotion? Intrigue made into a potent entity? If mystery could ride the air, then this breeze carried it on a galloping horse.

  He followed the sensation. With each turn, the lurking mystery either heightened or lessened, allowing him to adjust his direction and aim for the source. He pressed on through the forest, sometimes plowing through thick brush and sometimes clambering straight over low, flat boulders instead of going around them. Now it seemed that the finger's pulse pressed against his skin from the inside, as if trying to break free. Was it really pointing the way?

  "Jason," Elyssa whispered, "I sense..."

  He stopped and turned. "What?"

  Squinting as she glanced around, her voice stayed low. "I'm not sure. Confusion, maybe? Someone or something is watching, and it doesn't understand why we're here."

  Randall turned on his gun and spoke over its low hum. "I'm ready."

  "Don't be too quick on the trigger," Jason said. "Confusion's not usually a sign of an enemy." He scanned the dense collection of skinny birches and sweet gums. A human wouldn't be able to hide behind any trees in this area, and certainly no mountain bear could. Above, the branches held few leaves, far from enough to veil a predator ready to pounce, at least not one of significant size.

  With his gaze locked on the next gap in the underbrush, he trudged forward. "Let's just keep moving. If our confused onlooker really wants to learn why we're here, it will ask."

  Soon the forest thinned out, and they emerged onto an endless field of tall green grass and yellow wildflowers--so many blossoms it seemed that someone had scattered wide yellow ribbons on a green canvas.

  As if signaled by a musical conductor, the guiding call of mystery suddenly ceased, leaving behind only a fading echo. Jason stopped abruptly. Elyssa collided with him from behind with an "Oomph."

  "Shhh!" Jason turned and faced the woods. Tibalt and Randall had just walked onto the field, both wide-eyed as they joined Elyssa at Jason's right.

  "What's wrong?" Elyssa whispered.

  "Do you still sense someone?" Jason asked.

  She shook her head. "But I did until just now."

  "And I felt guided by the litmus finger until just now."

  Tibalt spoke in a low, mysterious tone. "A guide who hides when a path divides is not a friend but a foe. He laughs when you're lost, he cares not the cost. His plan is to bring you to woe."

  Jason nodded. "I get your point."

  "So what do we do?" Elyssa asked.

  "There are other ways to find guidance." Jason scanned the ground, searching for tracks, bent grass blades, or fragments of broken twigs. If Adrian wasn't being pursued, he would never venture out into the unknown without leaving some kind of trail, either to be followed by someone who recognized the signs or to be retraced in the unlikely event he became lost.

  Finally, he grabbed a stalk of grass and broke it off. Nothing. Not a sign that Adrian had come this way.

  A hissing voice shot from the forest, as if spat out by a man with sand in his vocal cords. "Turn back or die!"

  Jason searched for the source, but nothing moved in the woods. "Turn back?" he called as he raised the axe. "Someone guided us here. Why should we turn back now?"

  "The meadow conceals death. Many have trod there, but few have returned."

  Randall lifted his gun. "Who are you? Show yourself."

  "Indeed," Tibalt added, brandishing his axe. "Why should we trust the faceless? A man who hides his eyes hides his purpose."

  The hissing returned. "Very well."

  Just inside the forest boundary, thick gray mist gathered on the ground and flowed out to the meadow in a rolling wave. Jason readied the axe. The litmus finger pulsed again, so hard his skin felt like it was on fire.

  The mist began gathering into a human-shaped column. Without face or features, the foggy apparition was too indistinct to allow a determination of its gender or expression. It was more shadow than substance.

  Soon the shape rose to Jason's height, and the mist swirled and boiled within its nebulous body in concert with its renewed hiss. "Now that you see me, are you more apt to heed my counsel?"

  Tibalt gasped. "A snatcher!"

  Randall pointed his gun. "Get back before I blast you!"

  "Put your weapons away," the snatcher said. "They will have no effect but to anger me. Fear is your enemy, but not I. The only souls I take are those who have already been purchased by my master--the cowardly, the fearful, the spineless members of your race--and they give their souls freely. Only those who display fear need fear me."

  Jason let the axe rest on the ground. "Why should we turn back?"

  "No human who has ventured into the meadow has ever returned. The flowers are deceivers, and the grass is a devourer. I have seen many brave and strong warriors absorbed like water from the sky."

  Jason looked at the meadow and imagined Adrian crumbling into dust, consumed by the innocent-looking grass. He turned back to the snatcher. "I was guided here, and my guidance stopped as soon as I left the forest."

  The snatcher stared at him for a moment, as if contemplating his answer. "The only guidance here is provided by the keeper of the gateway, and it can be heard only by the bearer of the key."

  Jason glanced at Elyssa, hoping for a bit of silent counsel. Should he tell this ghost what their mission was?

  Elyssa bowed to the snatcher. "We appreciate your warnings, kind ghost, but we must be on our way." She hooked Jason's arm with her own and pulled him toward the meadow. "Lose the axe and run."

  Stumbling with her forceful tug, Jason dropped the axe and went along. "What are you doing?"

  "Skipping steps! Just trust me!"

  Randall jogged along at their side while Tibalt followed, high-stepping to avoid the flowers. "Nice buttercups!" Tibalt called. "I wouldn't hurt you. No, not old Tibber!"

  As their feet brushed through the flowers, a sickeningly sweet aroma rose into Jason's nostrils. Dizziness swam through his mind. His throat tightened, and his legs grew weak. "Poison!" he gasped.

  "Exactly!" Elyssa yelled. "Run!"

  She let go and sprinted straight ahead. Jason held his breath and charged after her, glancing back to check on the others. Randall had hoisted Tibalt over his shoulder and was carrying him as he ran, Tibalt shouting all the way. "I can run, you big ox! Put me down!"

  Jason pulled on Elyssa's shirt, signaling her to slow down. When Randall caught up, he set Tibalt down and all four ran together. How long could they hold out without breathing in the noxious fumes? The meadow seemed to have no end, and the flowers only thickened as they waded out into the green and yellow sea. Did Elyssa really know what she was doing?

  Suddenly, Jason tripped over something, and the ground dropped away. He, Elyssa, and Tibalt plunged into a gaping void. From above, Randall shouted, loud and long, "Grab the rope!" but his voice quickly faded.

  Jason caught sight of a rope near the side of the cylindrical pit, close to Tibalt. "Tibalt!" he yelled. "Grab it!"

  Tibalt lamented in singsong. "The bottom is never, we plummet forever. No water, no meat, no ground for our feet."

  Elyssa nudged his body, sending her own body into Jason's arms. Tibalt grabbed the rope, and, with a loud scream, shot upward.

  Holding Elyssa in one arm, Jason flailed with the other, but the rope stayed out of reach. Soon, it vanished in the darkness.

  Jason cringed. A bone-crushing collision surely awaited, but nothing happened. He looked at Elyssa, now barely visible, though they were nearly nose to nose. "The bottomless pit?" he asked as the wind stripped away his voice.

  "Impossible!" she yelled. "It's a myth!"

  Soon, a wet sensation brushed Jason's cheek. It felt warm and slippery. "What is it?" he asked.

  "Some kind of foam, like soap bubbles."

  Moment by moment the foam grew thicker, slowing their plummet. Seconds later, they splashed feet first into water and knifed into its depths. The cold shock nearly paralyzing him, Jason fought as a strong horizontal current swept them into the icy water's flow. Keeping a grip on Elyssa, Jason thrust his body upward until his head broke the surface.

  He sucked in a double lungful of air and pulled Elyssa until she, too, could breathe. With complete darkness all around and nothing beneath his feet to allow for a foothold, he paddled with his free arm, swimming perpendicular to the current. "There has to be a bank to this river somewhere!" he shouted.

  "Make sure we stay together!" Elyssa's voice was broken by her shivers and clattering teeth. As they held hands, they swam in sync, using their clenched hands as a single arm.

  Jason's fingers struck rock, scraping his knuckles. "I'm at a wall. Just float." He and Elyssa stopped swimming and rode the current again, Jason letting his palm rub the sheer face as they floated by. "We can't climb out!"

  "We'll just have to see where it carries us. It can't go on forever."

  Jason nodded, though Elyssa wouldn't be able to see him. She was right, of course, but the water was too cold; they would soon die of hypothermia. Which would last longer, the river or their heat reserves?

  As if again guessing his thoughts, Elyssa wrapped her arms and legs around Jason's body, chest to chest, and pressed her cheek against his. "You keep us afloat," she whispered in his ear. "We'll share body heat."

  Now using both arms, he paddled to keep their heads above water. With her hanging on, shifting their combined center of gravity, the effort was as awkward as swimming with a bag of melons tied to his chest. Yet, as he worked, heat flowed from his elbows to his knees, especially at the points of contact between him and Elyssa. The river slowly warmed, and now only his fingers and toes stayed cold, but how long could he keep this up? He couldn't fight the current forever.

  She seemed to read his mind. "You can do it, Jason. I believe in you. You are strong. Your arms are like bands of steel."

  On and on, she whispered, repeating the same phrases again and again. Yet one phrase penetrated more deeply than the others. I believe in you.

  He closed his eyes and concentrated. His arms burned. Every muscle ached. But he couldn't give up. He had to get her to safety. Elyssa believed in him, and that was all that mattered.

  Keeping their heads above the surface, he paddled on. At times, when the flow eased, he rested his arms, using only his legs to stay afloat. Even then, however, darkness wrapped around them like a crushing serpent, and with its tightening coils, a new wave of bitter cold penetrated his saturated clothes and seeped into his bones, frigid, numbing, stiffening. Soon even the weakest current would be too much to fight.

  Elyssa's voice sharpened. "Jason! I sense light. Maybe we'll come out into the open air. Just a little while longer."

  "I'm...I'm trying." Jason demanded new strength from his tortured arms but to no avail. Spasms wrenched his biceps, sending new pain from his knotting muscles. Water rose past his nostrils and splashed into his eyes.

  Elyssa pulled his arms around her torso and shouted, "Just hang on!"

  As his joints locked in place, she battled the strengthening current. Jason rested his chin on her shoulder, blinking away the splashes. The surrounding blackness faded. Walls came into view, dark and rocky.

  "I see a shoreline!" Elyssa called. "Keep hanging on!"

  With his joints feeling like rusted hinges, Jason wanted to say, "I don't have much choice," but even breathing seemed too much of a chore. Just clinging to her sapped his energy.

  Seconds later, new weight dragged his body down. As the ambient light strengthened, he took in the scene. Elyssa was hauling him onto a pebbly riverbank, staggering backwards with his arms draped over her shoulders.

  She pried his arms away and set him down gently on his side. He looked up at her, barely able to breathe as he flexed his fingers and tried to unlock his joints. "Are you all right?" he asked.

  "I think so." Dripping from head to toe, she set her fists on her hips and looked around. "We're in a cave of some kind." Her voice seemed weak, frail, almost inaudible as water rushed along nearby. "Be glad I didn't have to do mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. The cabin had no toothbrush."

  Jason pushed against the ground and rose to his knees. His arm still cramped but not as badly as before. He reached out with his stronger arm, and Elyssa helped him the rest of the way up.

  As he swiped gravelly dirt from his pants, he scanned the chamber. A gray ceiling loomed overhead with a few stalactites just out of reach, each one dripping cloudy water at the rate of a slow heartbeat. Three brackets hung on a side wall, two holding antique swords and scabbards and the other empty.

  Behind him, the river flowed swiftly past a sheer rock wall. Dim radiance emanated from somewhere, but there seemed to be no hole to the outside world.

  He looked at the river--dark and deep with islands of white foam speeding by. "I hope Tibalt was able to hang on to the rope."

  "And Randall was able to pull him up," Elyssa said. "Though staying in that poisoned field might be worse than coming down here."

  Jason turned to the wall on the opposite side, a rock face about ten steps away. "Any idea where the light's coming from?"

  "Maybe." Elyssa strode to the wall and laid a palm on the uneven gray stone. "It's brighter over here."

  He pushed his stiff legs into a hobbled walk and joined her. "I can't tell the difference."

  As she ran her hand along the damp surface, her eyes following the touch, she whispered, "I can."

  "So..." He kicked a pebble toward the river. "Did you plan that all along? I mean, holding on to me so you could keep your strength?"

  Her fingers probed a series of dark circular recesses. "It seemed like the only way."

  "How did you know we would get out before you ran out of strength, too?"

 

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