Secret of the Giants' Staircase (14 page)

It was our own doing. We thought we would never die. Yet here are our treasures, hidden away in the symbol of our might and power: the Lidian Tree. Perhaps our greatest treasure is this warning to you who read these words, whether you are kin of Lidia or strangers here
-
beware the blinding pride of success and wealth.

We will not return. I leave Lidia forever.

It was sad, Jesse thought, reading the words. Nolan had been right. The descendants of the Lidians, the Kin, wandered around Amarias, never having a real home.

Wait
. Jesse reread the first line again. “
I, Nolan, last son of Hyram, seal these stairs….”
All the time, he had assumed the Giant's Staircase was just a figurative term for the tree itself, one that had been transformed by centuries of legend.
But what if there is a literal staircase?

“Of course,” he said, flipping again through the pages. “There is far too much listed here to fit just in this small compartment.”

“What?” Owen asked. “What is it?”

Jesse just started feeling the floorboard, searching for a familiar, straight crack. “Move to the right,” he said to Castor, who looked offended. “Please,” Jesse added.

Castor moved, and Jesse pried up the section of floorboard with his fingers. It came out of the floor easily, creaking on ancient hinges. “This was just the entryway,” Jesse said. “The real treasure must be below.”

“They like their trapdoors, don't they?” Owen observed. Jesse expected him to dive right through the trapdoor, but he didn't move. “You first,” he said to Jesse's questioning look. “You found it.”

“Thank you,” Jesse said, but inside, his stomach was churning. Even if there were a staircase, how could he be sure it was safe? It had been built hundreds of years ago.

He knelt down and looked into the hole. Dimly, he could see the first few steps, each lit by a long, thin wedge of glowing stone. They
looked
stable enough.
But so did their city, and now it's destroyed
.

Before his worried mind could come up with more reasons not to, Jesse stood and took his first step downward, gripping the side of the platform, just in case. Nothing happened. His weight held.

Slowly, he started down the stairs, until his head had dropped past the platform level. He looked down again, and realized the stairs wound around each other. He was climbing down a spiral staircase in the center of the Lidian Tree.

And it was no rough scaffolding. The stairs were straight and perfectly fit the polished wooden railings on either side. The stone was the only light, giving the carved-out trunk a dim glow.

Once, when Castor stepped down behind him, Jesse was sure he heard the staircase groan, but Owen insisted it was only thunder. Inside the tree, the sounds of the storm seemed muffled and far away, although Jesse knew only a layer of wood separated them from it. Climbing down the staircase, Jesse felt safe somehow.

Then Jesse really did feel the stairs shift. He whirled around. Several steps above him, Owen was jumping up and down. Even in the dim light, Jesse could see a look of joy on his face. “We're rich!” he exclaimed, pointing to his left.

There, arranged neatly on shelves attatched to the wood of the tree, were the treasures Jesse had read about in the green leather book. He had been so focused on looking at where he was placing his feet he hadn't looked to either side.

Jesse reached out to the shelf next to him and picked up twin hunting dogs that looked like they were made of solid gold. “I don't believe it,” he said, shaking his head. “We found it.”

Each new discovery brought a shout of excitement from Owen. “Look! I found a ruby the size of my eye!” “It's a marble sculpture of some ugly man with a beard!” “Who would even wear a bracelet this heavy?”

Of course, Owen ignored the books lined up on some of the shelves, pushing past Jesse when he stopped to look at them. Jesse barely had time to scan the titles. Most were in Amarian—Lidians, though they were a self-sustaining city within the kingdom, seemed to have spoken Amarian since early days. A few were in foreign languages.
All are treasures in their own right
, Jesse thought, and judging by Castor's incredulous face, he agreed.

The farther down they got, the wider the shelves were and the more extravagant the treasures seemed to be. Jesse's favorite was a miniature replica of a ship. Tiny letters on the hull identified it as
The Silver Crescent
. Not only were all the parts on the ship exact down to the last detail, but there were tiny clay figurines on the deck, each with unique clothing and facial expressions. Jesse turned a wooden cog to raise the sails. The rope tightened and slackened, just like on a real ship.
This could be the creation of Vincent himself
, he realized.

“I wonder how long it took to make this?” he asked, showing it to Castor. “The detail is—”

“The three sons are on coins,” Owen interrupted, holding up a fistful from a small chest. He crammed them in his pocket. “The real ones, I mean. Not us. The king, the builder and that book person.”

“Scholar,” Jesse corrected, setting the ship down. They had to keep going. He could still see the spiral winding below them. They were only halfway through.

He stopped again only a few steps later. A rack with tiny hooks was embedded in the wall. Hanging from each hook was a delicate chain with tiny objects made of gold. Jesse leaned in closer. One was an owl with large garnets for eyes. Another was a crescent moon studded with diamonds, the third a ship's wheel that actually turned. There were others, each perfect in every detail.

They must be tokens
, Jesse realized.
But far more than a simple carved object. Maybe they belonged to the royal family
.

“Look!” Castor said. Jesse turned to see him holding up a slim blue volume. “Primary Reader,Year One.” He flipped it open to the first page, an illustrated picture of an anchor with a large
A
printed underneath it.

“Surrounded by treasure, and he picks up a textbook,” Owen said, shaking his head.

“You're at least ready for Year Two, Castor,” Jesse said, grinning.

Castor nodded seriously and picked up the entire stack of the blue readers, each one slightly thicker than the one before it.

Suddenly, Jesse realized just how long it would take to haul all of the treasure out of the tree. They would have to rig up some kind of pulley system to lower the treasure to the ground. It certainly wouldn't work to carry the treasure and climb at the same time.
And the books, at least, will have to be transported after the rain has stopped
.

As if in agreement, a clap of thunder shook the tree, one louder and harder than Jesse had ever heard. Instinctively, Jesse grabbed the railing of the staircase. He looked at the others. They seemed as afraid as he felt.

“That was close,” Owen said, his wide eyes just a little worried.

“We should leave,” Jesse said, but he didn't start climbing up the steps. The last thing he wanted to do was climb back down the tree in the storm. Here, at least, he felt safe, protected from the chaos outside.

But Castor was staring up the staircase, frozen. He breathed deeply. “Smoke,” he said, his face empty of any expression.

“But that means—” Jesse began, trailing off when he saw Owen's terrified expression. But it was too late to protect him.

“It means the tree is on fire,” Owen finished.

What do I save?

That thought went through Jesse's mind over and over. Castor and Owen were ahead of him already, Castor taking the steps three-at-a-time. Owen had pulled up the corners of his shirt as a makeshift basket and scooped up as much treasure as he could grab.

Jesse knew Owen wouldn't be able to carry it all, not while trying to climb.
Maybe he'll throw it down from the top
, he thought, picturing gold coins falling from the sky with the rain.

For Jesse, the choice was harder. Should he take the ship? A sculpture or painting perhaps, the only remaining art of the Lidian culture? A book? If so, which one? He hardly had time to glance at the covers, much less decide which one was most important.

He knew the tree would burn quickly. He had seen dead wood catch fire before. A lightning strike could destroy an entire forest.

What do I save?

The smell of smoke was getting stronger. Jesse decided on a book.
Gold and stone might survive the fire
, he reasoned.
Paper will not
.

His eyes raced over the titles, the words blurring together until he reached one, a simple brown volume with “Holy Scriptures” written in gold. His hand froze on the cover.

Parvel's book. The book about God.

Jesse picked it up, almost reverently. For a moment, he could hear Parvel's voice again, saying, “The most important book in all of history.” He had found his treasure.
And I won't let it go, even if this tree burns down around me.

“Jesse,” Castor's voice shouted from above him.

“I'm coming!” he shouted.

“Don't!” Owen's voice now, distant, but getting closer. “It's blocked. The fire started at the top. We can't—” He broke off in a fit of coughing. “We can't get out,” he finished. Now he was close enough for Jesse to see him. He had dropped the treasure from his shirt.

“Think logically.”
Parvel's voice. So Jesse did, trying to breathe evenly and focus on the problem, not on panic. What were his options?

Charge up the burning staircase and try to make it out?
“Risky and foolish.”
Silas' voice.

Give up?
“Never.”
Rae's voice.

He needed time. They had no time.

“All the way down,” Jesse said, limping as quickly as he could. “Maybe the rain will put the fire out before it gets to us.”

But he knew it was a pointless wish. The fire would only spread faster the longer it raged, and even if no flames ever touched them, they wouldn't be able to breathe for long in the smoke-filled air.

Once they reached the stone floor at the base of the stairs, Jesse picked up an embroidered scarf from an elaborately carved chest and tied it around his mouth and nose. He handed one to Owen and turned to give one to Castor.

But Castor was busy. He had found a large axe. Judging from its size and elaborate ornamentation, it had been meant only for decoration. With a grunt of effort, he heaved the axe back and hurtled it at the tree trunk, barely making a dent.

“You'll never make it out,” Jesse said. “It's too thick. If you keep struggling, you'll breathe in smoke faster.”

Jesse knew Castor understood him, but he never stopped, never even slowed. He kept raising the axe, chipping away at the wood.

Jesse scanned the circular compartment around them. There was no door—of course not. If there had been one, they would have seen it when they were outside the tree. “Why isn't there another way out?” Jesse moaned.

Suddenly, Castor froze, axe in midair, sweat pouring down his face. “Not out,” he said. “Down.”

“What?” Owen asked.

But Jesse was already on his knees, feeling the floor with his free hand. He knew he should put the Scriptures down, but he didn't want to lose them. “Think about it, Owen. What's beneath us?”

Owen's eyes widened, and he dropped to the ground too. “The tunnels.”

There would have to be a second entrance. It only made sense. How else would the Lidians have transported the treasure into the tree? It would have been difficult to haul it up, bit by bit, to the door at the top.

Jesse began feeling the glowing stone, looking for a trapdoor. Specks of ash were starting to float down. Jesse looked up. He could see the fire now at the top of the tree where the panel had been.
Nolan's warning will be lost forever now
, he thought grimly.

No. Not as long as we get out of here alive
.

Castor let out a shout of triumph. Jesse looked up. He had shoved aside the carved chest, and there was another panel, with three keyholes. “Keys,” he moaned, looking back toward the burning staircase.

“I have….” Jesse started to say—but his words, muffled through the scarf, were cut off by the choking smoke. Instead, he ran over and handed Castor the keys. “Owen!” he shouted.

Owen crawled over, glancing nervously at the burning stairs. Soon enough, Jesse knew, larger pieces would start to fall. They had to get out before that happened.

Castor tried to turn the keys, but his fingers were too large and clumsy. “Here,” Jesse said, reaching around him. He turned all three in the lock. This time, Jesse didn't hear a click, but Castor pulled the panel open. Jesse could see nothing but darkness beneath. Castor had been right. They had found the tunnels.

When he looked over, Owen was gone. He was using Castor's axe to scrape treasure over to the opening, letting it fall down. Castor wrenched the axe from his hands. “Down,” he ordered.

“But the treasure—” Owen protested.

“You are more than treasure,” Castor said. “Now go down!”

Taking one last fistful of treasure, Owen jumped through the trapdoor.

“Now Jesse,” Castor said, and despite his words to Owen, Jesse noticed that he was gathering books from the ground.

Jesse sat on the edge, trying to see where he would fall, but it was too dark. He stuffed the Holy Scriptures inside his shirt, feeling guilty about mistreating a sacred book.

Beneath him, Owen was shouting.
At least he's alive
, Jesse thought, but even that simple conclusion seemed to take a long time to make. The smoke was making him dizzy, clouding his senses and making him move slower.

“Go!” Castor roared.

That Jesse understood. He pushed off and fell into the darkness.

His crippled left leg hit first, and it gave out underneath him. He felt his head hit something hard, and then the shouts around him dimmed and everything else faded.