chapter 6
THE ENDLESS STAIRCASE
Holding Excalibur in front, Walter scampered down the uneven, rocky steps, occasionally skipping one or two as he hurried along.
Ashley hustled to keep up, but each echoing footfall brought new reminders of her recent upwelling of frightening recollections. The dark staircase felt like an old nightmare come to life, a deepening vision of vague, shadowy dreams that had haunted many troubled slumbers. The last thing she wanted here was to be alone. “Slow down!” she called, trying to catch her breath. “I can’t see where I’m going!”
Walter stopped and looked back. “Sorry. I just want to get there as fast as possible.” The light from the blade shone on each side wall. The stairway was so narrow they had to descend single file to keep from scraping their shoulders on the rough stones. “Besides, who wants to stick around this creepy corridor?”
“I know what you mean.” She unzipped her jacket and flapped it to cool her body. “I’m getting kind of claustrophobic, but we can’t hurtle into the unknown at ninety miles an hour. Who knows what might be down there?”
He pointed the sword at the stairs below. “If it’s something dangerous, then we should go even faster. Karen needs us.”
“But we’ll be exhausted when we get there.” She leaned against the wall. “Don’t forget. Going down is a lot easier than coming back up. If Karen can’t climb, it might take all day to get back.”
“Good point.” Walter exhaled loudly and rested his back on the opposite wall. After a few seconds his eyebrows lifted. “Have you wondered how a dragon can make a hole like this open up? I mean, is that a weird dragon power we haven’t heard of yet? Can some of them make things move with their minds?”
Ashley pushed a shock of wet hair out of her eyes and wiped the perspiration on her jeans. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since we started down this hole. I doubt that dragons can defy the laws of physics. They’re limited to using their natural traits, just like humans are, and creating a hole and a staircase like this out of the blue isn’t anywhere close to natural.”
Walter’s eyes gleamed in Excalibur’s weak glow. “So, what’s your conclusion, Miss Mighty Mind?”
A twinge of pain pinched Ashley’s heart. She expected Larry to zing her with barbed nicknames, but not Walter. She tried to hide the sting with a laugh. “Didn’t I ask you to stop joking about me?”
“But it wasn’t a joke.”
“Then what was it?”
“Uh …” His eyes averted, finally fixing their gaze on the stone wall. “A term of endearment?” Even in the low light, the redness in his cheeks was obvious.
She smiled and sighed. “Okay. Fair enough.”
Walter’s gaze stayed locked on the wall. “That’s kind of weird.”
“What’s kind of weird?” Ashley followed his line of sight and searched the bare stone. “What are you staring at?”
“You can’t see it at first,” he replied, rubbing his finger along a darker spot, “but if you concentrate, you can make out a design.”
She leaned closer. “What kind of design?”
“Kind of like letters, but it’s pretty ragged.” He brought Excalibur near the wall. Its glow poured into the crags, revealing a series of odd shapes that ran head high and parallel to the sloping staircase, staying within a hand’s-breadth range. “You can see it pretty easily now.”
Ashley ran a finger along the stone. “It’s too broken to make out, but it’s definitely a string of words of some kind.” She tapped her jaw and spoke into the air. “Larry, are you still listening in?”
“Your signal is weak, O Anthrozilic Angel, so I will boost my power and extend the auxiliary antenna.”
“Yeah, right. And increase the volume on your annoying alliterations.” She reached into her duffle bag and pulled out her handheld computer. “I have my tracker turned on. Are you monitoring us?”
“You are still at your former residence in Montana, but your elevation has changed. You are now at only one hundred and twelve feet above sea level, four thousand and six feet lower than before.”
“I hope we don’t hit water,” Walter said. “I didn’t bring my swim fins.”
She set the computer close to the wall. “I’m sending a scan. It’ll be pretty rough, but see if you can clean it up and read it to me.”
“Ready for transmission.”
Holding down a button on the side, Ashley guided the computer along the etching and stopped after a few feet. “That should be enough of a sample.”
Several seconds later, Larry’s voice buzzed through again. “I compared the phrase to several dictionaries and calculated the most likely rendering. It says, ‘ Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate. ’”
Ashley slid the computer back into her pocket. “Sounds like Italian.”
“Affirmative. It repeated a few words before the transmission ended, so I considered the extra verbiage dispensable.”
“Yeah, it looks like the same message over and over.” Ashley laid her hand on the letters again. “What does it mean?”
“I found the exact rendering in my electronic library, so I will provide the version in that translation. It means, ‘Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.’”
She jerked her hand down. “What did you say?”
“Abandon hope, all ye who enter here. Shall I adjust my volume again?”
“No. … No, that’s not the problem.” Ashley grabbed one hand with the other, trying to keep from trembling. “It’s from Dante’s Inferno,” she said, “the first part of his Divine Comedy.”
“A comedy?” Walter shook his head. “Someone needs a better joke writer.”
“‘Comedy,’ Ashley explained, “just means it’s supposed to have a happy ending. In Dante’s book that phrase is inscribed at the gates of Hell.”
“Not exactly a welcome mat,” Walter said, “but it’s not going to stop me from barging in. I’ve been there before.” He turned and descended. “Let’s get moving.”
Ashley took in a deep breath and followed. Since Walter had slowed down, she was able to count the steps, announcing the number at each hundred. Larry added to the bulletins, providing a report of their elevation every five minutes.
All along the way, she kept glancing at the writing on the wall. The same morbid letters repeated themselves again and again while Larry’s voice echoed in her mind, Abandon hope, all ye who enter here. As the echoes grew louder, her heart raced, and sweat streamed down her cheeks. Her childhood nightmares were coming true. How many times had she descended these stairs during her fitful dreams? Once at the bottom would she find tormented souls? Since she had never truly believed in her grandfather’s God, would she become one of them, lost forever in Hell? Finally, her heart pounding, she leaned against the wall again, breathless. “We have to rest!”
Walter retreated to one step below her level and leaned against the wall. “We’re almost to ten thousand.” His chest heaved as he spoke. “The air’s stuffy, it’s getting hot, and my ears are about to implode.”
“Because,” Larry interjected, “your elevation is eight thousand three hundred and sixty-three feet below sea level, give or take an inch.”
“Eight thousand feet!” Walter let out a low whistle. “That’s more than a mile!”
Ashley closed her eyes. “One point five, eight, three, nine miles, to be exact.”
Walter wiped his brow with his sleeve. “It doesn’t take a computer brain to figure out that getting back to the top is looking more impossible with every step down.”
Slowing her breathing, she gazed into the dark descent. “But we can’t just leave Karen.”
“I know, but what if the dragon was lying? What if she’s not there at all, and we’re just going down an endless spiral staircase? Maybe he just wanted to get rid of us.”
“It can’t be endless,” Ashley said, closing her eyes again. “There are no actual infinites in the physical cosmos. It’s impossible.”
“Perhaps there are actual infinites you do not yet understand, dear child.”
“Dear child?” Ashley opened her eyes and squinted at Walter. “I don’t mind terms of endearment, but … ‘dear child’?”
“I didn’t say that.” Walter set his feet and raised Excalibur. “I thought it was Larry, but it sounded too clear.”
Ashley angled her head upward. “Larry? Did you just call me ‘dear child’?”
“Negative. My terms of endearment of late are draconic in nature and usually alliterative.”
“I noticed.” Ashley looked up the dark stairwell and listened. Nothing. She then padded softly down two steps and halted, listening again as she stared into the deep, spiral void. Still nothing.
Walter whispered into her ear. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
His question chilled her heart, but she quickly shook it off. Wrinkling her nose, she sharpened her voice. “Of course not. Do you?”
“After all I saw in the Circles of Seven, I’m not sure what to believe.” Walter looked up the dark stairway. “I was thinking that someone who calls you a dear child wouldn’t mind being seen. So the voice either came from a sociable ghost or a very shy friend.”
Ashley tugged on his sleeve. “You’re scaring me, Walter.”
“Sorry. I guess talking about ghosts is”
“It’s not that,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “You’re using logic. That’s scaring me.”
Walter’s eyebrows knitted. “So much for terms of endearment.” He spun and headed down the stairs again, pointing the sword’s light into the depths. “Ghost or no ghost, we have to keep going.”
“Walter, wait!” She skipped down the steps. “I didn’t mean it that way!”
He halted and faced her, Excalibur’s light reflecting in his fiery eyes. “What way did you mean it?”
Ashley stopped in midstep and bit her tongue. Why did she say something so stupid? Walter was such a good, brave friend. He didn’t deserve that slap even as a joke. And why did such a condescending put-down even enter her mind anyway?
“Walter,” Larry said, buzzing through Ashley’s teeth, “it seems that the fire-breathing femme has lost her flaming tongue.”
As she let out a long breath, her shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, Walter. Really I am. It was a stupid thing to say.”
He glared at her long and hard. Finally, his expression softened. “It’s okay, but I’d like to trust every word you say, too.”
Sliding her backside down the wall, Ashley sat on the step. She blew hair from her eyes and sighed. “We need to talk.”
Walter sat against the other wall and laid the sword on his lap. “What about?”
She pointed at him and herself in turn. “You and me.”
“Uh … okay.” He clenched his hands together and cleared his throat. “I guess.”
Ashley held back a groan, not wanting to hurt his feelings again. She tried to keep her voice calm, but fear rattled her words. “I don’t mean”—she made quotation marks in the air with her fingers—“‘you and me’ as in ‘having a relationship.’ I mean why are we so different? You’re charging down this staircase to Hell like it’s … like it’s just the stairs from your bedroom to the living room. You act like it’s all a video game, while I’m …” Her voice pitched higher, but she couldn’t help it. “While I’m so scared I’m about to …” Tears filling her eyes, she held out a trembling hand.
Walter took her hand in both of his. “About to lose your cool?”
She nodded, shaking a tear loose from her cheek. When it fell to her sleeve, she steadied her voice and continued. “I’m supposed to be older and more mature, Miss Independent who practically raised herself, the smartest girl in the world, a guaranteed success in whatever field she chooses.” A new surge of emotion tightened her throat. She closed her eyes and squeaked, “But I’m such a fraud!”
“No, you’re not,” Walter said, gently compressing her hand. “You’re the most confident person I know.”
She pressed a clenched fist against her chest. “Sure, I’m tough on the outside. I had to be tough or I’d have fallen to pieces. Everyone in school thought I was a freak. Legally, I’m an adult, and no guy has ever given me a second look.” Raising her eyebrows, she waved her hand at him. “Not that I need that, but a girl likes to know she’s not an ugly troll.”
“I know what you mean,” Walter said, nodding. “My dad used to call Shelly his little princess all the time, even when she was in high school. No matter how many times I called her ugly, she would stick out her tongue at me and say, ‘Daddy says I’m pretty.’”
As she gazed toward the dark ceiling, Ashley lowered her voice to a dreamy whisper. “I was too young to remember my father. Did he ever pick me up and tell me I’m pretty? Did he ever call me his little princess? Did he sing me songs and tuck me in at night? That’s what I really needed, a daddy who made me feel like a lady.” She licked her lips and met Walter’s gaze again, her chin quivering. “I guess I never really had a daddy.”
His brow knitted sympathetically. “Didn’t your grandfather ever do those things for you? From what you told me, he sounds like he was a really cool guy.”
“He was great, and he called me sweet names, but he got sick pretty early on. I mean, I was changing his bedpan before I was eleven. He loved me, but he wasn’t strong enough to be the support I needed. I dreamed of a powerful king who could pick me up and call me princess, not someone I had to reach down to and wipe the dribble from his chin.” She looked up at Walter. “Is that too harsh? I mean, was I asking too much?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. You were hiding a lot of pain.”
“And fear. I mean, how do you do it? Are you just holding it in? Are you scared and pretending not to be? Or am I the only fraud?”
She began to withdraw her hand, but Walter held it fast. “I said you’re not a fraud, and I meant it. You’re just carrying too much weight. You’ve always been taking care of people—as a healer, as a genius lab assistant, and now you’ve put everything on your shoulders—finding your father, your brother, your dragon sister, and Karen.” He caressed her knuckles tenderly. “It’s not all up to you. You have to let it go.”
“How can I let it go? We still have so much to do.”
“Hey, I know what you mean.” He pressed his thumb against his chest. “I’m the one carrying the sword, remember? And I’m not half the swordsman Billy is. But I just do what I can. I can’t worry about anything else.”
“So …” Her voice trembled again. “Are you scared?”
He shrugged. “Sure. I guess so. Who wouldn’t be?”
“But you never show it. You’re always so confident.”
Walter leaned his head back against the wall and sighed. “Look, I make jokes and talk big sometimes, but that’s to remind me of what I’ve already been through.” He pointed at himself again. “You have to remember, I’ve been to Hades before. I saw stuff that would make Superman hide under his cape, but everything still worked out okay.”
Ashley tried not to laugh, but Walter’s mischievous grin made it impossible to hold it back. “Okay. You win. You do have more experience than I do.”
“Yep. The more I remember walking alone in the seventh circle of Hades, staring down a dragon that wanted to fry me for supper, and fighting Morgan while she possessed Bonnie’s body, the easier it is to keep going. I mean, I trusted God through all of that. Why should I think he’s not around now?” He leaned forward and slid his hand back into hers, gripping it firmly. “You’re a strong, beautiful woman, Ashley Stalworth. I’m proud to be your partner, either on Earth or in Hades. I trust you with all my heart.”
Tears welled in her eyes again. She tried to swallow back the surge of emotion, but it leaked out through her trembling voice. “Walter … you know what I said about you and me?” She rubbed her thumb along his finger. “Maybe someday. … I mean, when we’re older.” Her cheeks flushed hot, and she shook her head. “I guess I’d better shut up. I’m getting all sappy.”
Setting Excalibur on the steps, Walter rose to his feet and pulled Ashley to hers, keeping their hands locked together as he gazed into her eyes. “Listen carefully. We’re going to find your brother, your sister, and even your father, and put your family back together. Then, someday when I’m old enough to learn to be at least half the man your father must have been, I might come knocking at his door and speak to him about a lovely princess I’d like to have a lot more adventures with.”
Her tears now flowing, Ashley laid a hand on his cheek. It was hot and damp. “Walter, I … I don’t know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything. We have at least a few years between now and then.” He picked up Excalibur and hurried down the stairs. “We’d better get going.”
She followed, trying to keep pace. It seemed that Walter’s emotions had fired up his energy. How could he take off like that after such a catharsis? Her own energy had drained away. His stunning confidence in her, the constant written reminders of their apparent descent into Hell, and the strange feeling that some unknown entity was lurking had worked together to weaken her legs and churn her stomach.
Finally, after almost a thousand more steps, they came to a wall, a dead end of solid stone. Walter pounded the wall with the heel of his fist. “You gotta be kidding me! All this way for nothing?”
Sniffing the air as she turned a slow circle, Ashley laid a hand on his arm. “You notice something?”
Walter took in a deep breath. “Fresh air?”
She moved his arm downward, casting Excalibur’s glow on the floor. Several dime-sized holes pierced the rock around their feet. “Air vents?” she asked.
He bent over and inserted the tip of the sword into one of the holes. “Think anything down there is organic?”
“Could be,” she said, rubbing her shoe on the floor. “There are likely to be carbon molecules, maybe some microorganisms.” She looked back at him. “Why?”
He tightened his grip on the hilt. “Stand back. Let’s see what happens with a little burst.”
“Just a little one!” she warned. “We don’t want to get zapped ourselves.”
“Just enough to widen it so I can see what’s down there.” The beam’s energy trickled into the hole. Veins of light crawled along the rocky floor like cracks in ice, zigzagging under their feet.
After a few seconds, he turned off the beam, leaving only the blade’s glow to light the chamber. He knelt and peered through the hole, now the size of a golf ball. “It’s too dark down there.”
Ashley stooped and listened. “Can you hear anything?”
“Just a crunching sound, like someone chewing on rocks.”
When she laid her palm on the floor, a tingling sensation ran along her skin. “That’s not chewing!” She grabbed his arm and pulled. “Quick! Up the stairs!”
The floor crumbled, and they plummeted into the void, but their plunge lasted only a fraction of a second. Their shoes hit solid rock again just several feet below. Fresh air breezed upward, drying their perspiration. The air swept past the original floor level, now just out of reach above their heads.
“That was a gut-buster!” Walter said.
Ashley, her hair flying around her eyes as the air breezed past, laid a hand on her abdomen. “I think my gut turned a flip.”
Still holding the sword, he directed the light downward. “There’s a trapdoor here with lots of holes in it, like a wooden grating.”
“That’s where the air’s coming from. It must be a vent for something underneath.”
Walter poked his fingers into the gap around the door and lifted. With a quiet creak, the wood panel swung upward, and he let it fall to the other side. “I see a light down there.”
“Point the sword over here,” Ashley said. “There’s some kind of line at my feet.”
He moved the energy field, illuminating an old rope that began in a coil near the door, passed under Ashley’s tennis shoes, and wound around a thick stalagmite behind her. “Someone’s climbed down this way before,” he noted.
She stooped and rubbed her hand along the frayed rope. “Not recently is my guess, but it might hold.”
“I’m going in.” He slid Excalibur into his back scabbard, dimming the air vent chamber, and tossed the coil into the opening. “Keep your hand on the rope. I’ll give it three tugs when I get to the bottom.”
She looked into the hole. “Going down should be easy, but have you ever climbed up a rope? It looks pretty far.”
“Lots of times in gym class. Billy and I had this cranky Phys Ed teacher. He screamed so loud, it sounded like a pit bull barking at us. We shinnied that rope in a heartbeat.” Walter looped the line around his waist. “How about you?”
She shook her head. “I’m not very good at going up, but I think I could if I had to.”
Taking up the rope’s slack, Walter pulled his sleeves over his palms, then, bracing his feet against the edge of the open hatch, he leaned backwards over the hole and pushed away, spending the rope through his protected hands as he dropped.
While hanging on to the taut rope, Ashley peered through the hole again. A dim light from somewhere underneath kept Walter illuminated as he reeled downward into the nebulous world below. After a few seconds, he disappeared in the shadows. The rope wiggled a few times, but it stayed tight, like a fishing line trolling in deep water.
She drummed her fingers on the floor. What could be taking so long? That rope couldn’t have been longer than forty feet or so.
“Worried about him, dear child?”
Ashley gulped and swung her head from side to side. She ducked low and whispered, “Who are you? Where are you?”
“Just regard me as a friend, a very old friend.”
She peeked behind the stalagmite. “Why can’t I see you?”
“Because it is too dark.”
“If you were here, I’d see you.” She strained her eyes but saw nothing. “It’s not that dark.”
“There is more than one kind of darkness.”
The rope suddenly went slack. Three emphatic tugs followed.
Hoisting her bag over her shoulder, Ashley stood and pulled her sleeves over her hands. “I have to go,” she whispered. “Are you coming, too, whoever you are?”
“I will stay close until your journey is complete.”
She pulled the rope tight and balanced over the opening. “My journey? You mean finding Gabriel?”
“Locating your brother is one facet of your journey, but you will learn that your road is much longer. I cannot stay with you to the end, but I will accompany you through these dark hours.”
Three more tugs came from below. She glanced around the chamber one more time. “Will you at least tell me who you are?”
Ashley waited, but the voice didn’t return. Again, three much more aggressive tugs jerked on the line. She sighed and began sliding down into the empty expanse. With mysteries both above and below, the darkness felt like a vise, adding to the crushing atmospheric pressure of the tremendous depths. She glanced up at the hole as it disappeared in the dimness. The only way of escape lay thousands of feet straight up, and who could tell how much farther down they would have to go?
Elam awoke. As the glow of dawn cast its rays of yellow light over the field, a breeze wafted across the grass, brushing the blades against his cheek. He sat up and stared at the delicate white flower in his hands.
He lifted it close to his eyes. “It was red,” he said out loud.
Scrambling to his feet, he gazed out over the field. A wide path of white flowers stretched in the direction he had come as far as the eye could see. He raised the blossom to his nose and took a long sniff. He recognized the delicate aroma—earthy, yet sweet.
“It smells like Sapphira,” he said, sighing. “I hope she made it out okay.”
He tucked it carefully into his pocket, allowing the petals to stick out. After scanning the field for anything else new, he pulled on his cloak, lowered his head, and skulked toward the edge of the forest. There was no sign of the malevolent creatures that stalked the woods the night before, but he found the strange lump, a crumpled half-naked body, lacerated with long, bloody gashes on its hairy back.
Giving it a shove with his foot, Elam turned it faceup. With skeleton-thin bare arms and legs, it looked more like an emaciated man than a monster, but two sharp fangs overlapping its lips gave the corpse a beastly aspect. It seemed half human and half … something else.
Elam wrinkled his nose. This thing smelled worse than Nabal, even on a bad day. After glancing around, he pulled out the spyglass and peered into the forest. Nothing but trees and more trees.
He collapsed the tube and dropped it in his bag. “No time like the present,” he said as he strode in.
The leafy canopy darkened the tree-filled landscape, reminding him about possibly stumbling over the transparent man he was looking for. He slowed his pace and extended an arm, waving it from side to side as he shuffled forward, but after several minutes, his arm ached, so he let it fall to his side.
He stopped and raised the spyglass again, adjusting it to its maximum magnification. Turning slowly, and listening for the slightest pop or rustle, he studied every detail—gnarled elbows in the lower limbs, fungus-infested knots in most of the trunks, and multicolored toadstools peeking through the fallen leaves. But, other than organisms of decay, there was no sign of life—not a bug or a bird in sight.
Something moved. Elam froze the spyglass on the spot and waited, breathless. It moved again, a short, spindly form that seemed to flow like thick clear liquid.
“The gatekeeper,” he whispered.