The Seventh Mountain (36 page)

He turned to look at the far wall. He could
see the sign that showed where the door was. It wasn’t open. He
turned back toward the birds and crouched down. A couple of the
birds started, slowly, to step toward him. Others followed their
lead. Still more followed those. Suddenly, the entire flock had
taken to wing. Mark turned, staff and lantern in hand, and made a
mad dash for the door. He at least wanted the wall at his back
while he fought off the birds.

He braced himself, mentally, for the impact
with the wall. He planned to turn and start swinging as hard and as
fast as he could, when he rebounded from the wall. To his surprise,
the wall didn’t stop him. He passed straight through it and
stumbled to a stop.

 
* *
* 

Tim said, “Uh-oh! He’s too close to their
nests. Get out of there, Mark!” Tim was well up the stairs now.
“You are running the wrong way. What… He went right through the
wall.”

 
* *
* 

Lions. They were mangy, banded with
scratches and gaunt to the point of being living skeletons and they
were utterly surprised by his entrance. He could feel that in his
mind. They were all hungry, so very hungry. Not one, but hundreds
of images filled his mind. Each and every image showed him being
torn apart and eaten in a fury of claws and teeth. It was very
clear how good his raggedly butchered meat would smell to them.

He turned and looked at the wall. It was
solid stone. The lions were running toward him. He had no place to
go. In desperation, he ran back to the wall. He touched it, and his
hand with the staff passed back through. Hundreds of the large
birds came through the opening. He felt the astonishment of the
lions at this. They turned their attention from him to the more
abundant quarry.

No more birds came through the opening. He
waited a couple of moments longer before stepping back through. He
walked back to the area of the previous door, unchallenged. Sliding
the staff along the wall, he found the opening. Several snakes
plopped to the ground. He backed up and waited for them to
clear.

Running full out, he passed through the wall
into the next chamber. His momentum carried him up and he thudded
back down onto the stone door. He didn’t pass back through. Turning
over to regain his feet, the staff touched the door. The door
opened and he fell back through.

Startled by events, he paused to think about
it. He decided that if he dove through the door, he would land on
his feet. He tried it, and it worked.

After painstakingly making his way back to
the other door, through the snakes, he laid the staff against the
wall. The wall section vanished. Thousands of rats poured through
the opening. The torrent became a trickle. He stepped into the rat
room. Relatively few rats scurried here and there.

After reaching the next door, he cinched up
his hood to cover everything except his eyes. He crunched his way
through the crunchy, slimy, crawling mass. He was covered with
roaches, from head to foot, when he emerged into the first chamber.
A meal pack enticed them to remain on the floor and off him.

He was halfway up the ladder when he
remembered the artifacts lying on the floor. He went back down to
collect some of them. He slung the sword over his shoulder and put
a couple of the stones with pictographs in his pockets.

Sleep, that wonderful place where dreams are
real and reality but a dream.

Mark climbed up and out to find that helping
hands were waiting for him. The voice was gone from his head. He
lay down on the cold museum floor and sleep overtook him, mind,
body and soul. He hadn’t slept in who knows how long. It felt good
to finally be able to sleep.

Days passed, and Mark didn’t wake up. Twice
a day, while he was asleep, his friends Jamal, Chenoa and Nick
would come to visit his bedside. On occasion, LeOmi Jones, Cap’n
Ben and, of all things, Slone Voif came to visit, too.

They always asked the same questions, “How’s
he doing?” and “How long will he sleep?” They always got the same
obvious answers from either the guard at his bedside or the nurse
that tended him. “He’s doing as well as can be expected.” and “We
don’t know how long he will sleep.”

Mark awoke lying in a
hospital bed with curtains isolating his bed from the rest of the
ward. He sat up, listened, and couldn’t hear anything.
That’s strange. I should be able to hear
something.
He got up and pulled the
curtain back. It was then that he knew that this was a
dream.

He was overlooking farmland from high above.
He was over the land in Virginia. It had to be, the Newsome Farm
was off to the right. His house was directly below. The scent of
pine and sawdust drifted on the breeze.

Time moved in fast forward. The trees below
were cleared away, revealing a large pile of stones that had been
hidden in the undergrowth. They were unusually white stones and
somehow drew his attention.

The stones flew up, one at first, then
another, and another, until a large mass of stones was flying from
the ground toward him. Individually, the stones passed and
disappeared behind him.

Suddenly he was moving down toward where the
stones had been, and then down into an underground tunnel. It
smelled like wet dirt. He passed through the tunnel, turning left
then right, heading ever deeper down and then back up a little. It
was like being on some vast underground roller coaster.

Finally, the ride stopped. He looked around.
The tunnel curved off and down to the left, continuing on. Soil and
stones fell from the right side of the wall revealing large chunks
of gold colored rocks. He started to touch one of the golden rocks
and the dream ended.

He opened his eyes and found that he was
still in the hospital bed. The dream had been so real, which was
becoming so commonplace now that he was having trouble telling the
difference. Someone pulled the curtain back.

“Well, hello there.” The woman looked young.
She wore a lightweight white hooded cloak over her white tunic. She
pulled back her hood and smiled the kind of smile that says glad to
see you. Her very blue eyes were gleaming.

“Mrs. Shadowitz wants to be notified the
moment that you’re awake. But first, is there anything that I can
get for you?”

“My staff! Where’s my staff?”

“I don’t know. It was here yesterday. Mrs.
Shadowitz must have taken it for safekeeping.”

If Mrs. Shadowitz had the staff, that was
okay. He trusted her and she certainly knew how important the staff
was.

Mark sat up and noticed that he was wearing
some type of white robe. He also noticed that he was hungry, very
hungry.

“Ma’am, I’m hungry. Can I have something to
eat?”

“Of course, you can. What would you
like?”

“Breakfast. Anything really.”

“What state are you from?”

“North Carolina.”

“Okay. I’ll send someone to get a proper
North Carolina breakfast.”

Mark smiled a sleepy smile and nodded. The
woman turned and put her hood back up before walking off.

Mark, still feeling groggy, dozed until Mrs.
Shadowitz pulled back the curtain. She was accompanied by Mark’s
family.

“Oh, hon, you’re all right. I was so
worried.” Shirley rushed to the bedside and hugged her son.

“Hi, Mom. I’m all right.”

Steve said, “That was some ordeal that
you’ve been through. Mrs. Shadowitz filled us in. The whole school
is talking about it.”

“Yes sir. It was. I don’t want to do that
again, anytime soon. How long have I been asleep?”

“A week.”

Mrs. Shadowitz walked up
to the bed. She wasn’t holding the staff. Mark thought,
Maybe she has it in Aaron’s Grasp.

“Hello, there. I’m glad to see that you’re
finally awake.”

“Yes, ma’am. Me too.”

“I’ve sent a runner to tell your friends
that you’re awake. I’m sure that they’ll be up, right after
class.”

“Thank you. Do you have my staff?”

“You’re welcome, and no, I don’t have your
staff. It’s supposed to be right here with you. It was here
yesterday. That’s why the guard has been posted here since you came
in.”

Mrs. Shadowitz turned to the guard. He was a
big fellow, wearing a white tunic and cloak. The hood obscured his
face.

“Who’s been here to see Mark since I was
here last?”

The guard looked at his clipboard. “Jamal
Terfa, Chenoa Day, Nikola Poparov, Slone Voif, LeOmi Jones and
Cap’n Ben.”

“Bring them here, immediately!”

“Yes, ma’am.” The guard turned and went out
the door.

“Slone Voif, I should have known. He’s
trying to get me back for that last joke we played on him.”

Mrs. Shadowitz turned back to Mark. “We’ll
see.”

Tim, Gerod and Shana walked into the ward,
carrying trays of food. They sat them on a table that was against
the wall, pulled the table out, and adjusted the chairs.

Tim said, “A proper North Carolina
breakfast, there is enough for everyone.”

The entire group sat and ate, waiting for
the guard to return. When he did, he didn’t have good news.

“Here’re the students that you sent for,
except for Cap’n Ben. I can’t find him, anywhere. I’ve sent more
runners to look for him.”

“Very well, see to it that I see him,
immediately, when he is found.”

Mrs. Shadowitz stood and faced each student
in turn. She looked them up and down.

“None of these have it with them.”

She faced each student again, in turn.

“Slone, do you know where the staff is?”

Slone tilted his head and looked at Mark.
His eyebrows narrowed slightly and a smile came across his lips and
quickly faded. “No, ma’am. I don’t.”

She asked the same question of Nick, Jamal,
Chenoa, and LeOmi and got the same answer.

Mrs. Shadowitz said, “I believe that they
are telling the truth.”

Mark said, “That has to mean that Cap’n Ben
has the staff and has gone into the labyrinth.”

“That could be true, but it’s not likely.
Anyone would have had a very difficult time getting that staff past
the guards. They all have spirit sight, the ability to see with the
mind’s eye. Mr. Diefenderfer uses it all the time, since he lost
his eyes. The guards would have been able to see anything in
Aaron’s Grasp.”

“What if they weren’t looking, like
something distracted them?”

“That’s possible, but very difficult… unless
it was right at watch change.” Mrs. Shadowitz looked at the guard.
“Let me see your clipboard.”

The guard handed her the clipboard.

“There it is. Cap’n Ben checked in by one
guard and checked out by another.” She looked at the students. “You
can go back to class now.”

Chenoa said, “Mr. Diefenderfer dismissed
class early when we left. Is it all right if we stay?”

Slone said, “I’ve got things to do. Glad
you’re okay.” He turned and left.

“Yes, of course, you can stay.”

Mrs. Shadowitz looked at the guard. “Check
the armory for me and see if any armor is missing.”

The new style of Magi armor was made from
designer molecules in an unstable matrix. This formed a fast acting
destabilization exponentially related to the amount of energy
applied. In simple terms that means that it was a lightweight
material like cloth, that got harder and tougher based on the
amount of force applied to it.

The armor had the added feature that it was
self-cooling or self-warming depending on how it was worn. The
large molecules in the fabric were constantly changing orientation,
spinning in place, and acting as molecular fans. The critical
temperatures were fifty degrees below zero on the cold side and two
hundred degrees above zero on the hot side. Below and above those
temperatures, the armor was useless.

“Yes, ma’am.” The guard turned and walked
out.

She turned back to Mark. “I don’t think that
it is likely that he entered the labyrinth without armor. If
there’s armor missing, then it’s likely that he went in.”

Shirley said, “Honey, you’re not thinking of
going back in there, are you?”

“If I have to, Mom. What if I’m the only one
the staff works for?”

Mrs. Shadowitz said, “That is possible. The
staff has been around for a long time, and no one has ever escaped
from any of the labyrinths.”

“What if he isn’t in there? It’s too
dangerous; I won’t allow it.”

“Mrs. Young, I afraid that it’s not your
decision. It’s Mark’s.”

“What do you mean it’s not my decision, I’m
his mother?”

“Sweetheart, calm down. I’m sure that every
precaution that can be taken will be taken. If Mark is the only one
who can rescue these people, then he has a duty to do just
that.”

Shirley stood. “Calm down! I will not calm
down! You’re talking about letting him walk right back into the
very gates to hell and you want me to calm down!”

“Mrs. Young, there are other people on this
ward. Please keep your voice down. As for Mark, only he can make
that decision, and we will support him in either one.”

“Just how much does he have to sacrifice?
He’s already missed his birthday in there! And now you want him to
sacrifice his childhood! He’s only thirteen years old and you
expect him to act like an adult! What if Cap’n Ben isn’t in there?
What if the staff is lost forever?”

Mark reached out and grabbed his mother’s
hand. “Mom, I can’t just let those people stay in there when I can
get them out.”

Shirley looked at Mark and dropped to her
knees. Tears were streaming down her face. “Honey, Benrah wants you
dead; or worse yet, trapped in that awful place, forever. You can’t
go back in there, you just can’t.”

Mark took his mother’s hands. “I want you to
answer me honestly. On second thought, you don’t have to answer me
at all, because I already know the answer. What would you do in my
place?”