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Authors: Jake Halpern

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BOOK: Dormia
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"I don't know," replied Alfonso, "I didn't have a choice. I mean, I didn't even know there was a Dormia. I just had to make the best of it."

"I could never do it," said the general with a resolute nod of
his head. "Never. In any case, enough chitchatting, I've come to tell you that you'll be facing your challenge today."

"My challenge?"

"That's correct," said the general solemnly. "I will be taking you to a place called the Iron Pillow. Normally, the Great Sleeper's arrival ushers in a two-week period of investigation known as Fortnight. However, because the tree's death is so imminent, we are forced to speed things up. You will face your challenge today. Then, of course, there will be a great many questions to be answered. Hopefully, if all goes well, we can get the bloom in the ground within the next seventy-two hours."

"Why can't we plant the bloom right now?" Alfonso asked. "You said that the situation was dire."

"That is true," replied the general. "But we cannot rush, even though our people are starving. There are certain precautions that we always must follow. Just because you and your party have arrived in such a suspiciously late fashion, we will not compromise our safety."

"But people will freeze if we don't hurry up," said Alfonso impatiently.

"Funny you should say that," replied the general with a dark smile. "You are not the first Great Sleeper to arrive late and then suggest that we abandon our safety protocols. The other to do so was a man named Noel Cranlost, who arrived at the gates of Loptos in the year 3408 and turned out to be a Dragoonya in disguise. He arrived very late, much as you have, and then demanded that he be led directly into the city's inner sanctum so that he could plant his bloom with all due speed. Shortly thereafter, he burned the city of Loptos to the ground."

"I understand that you don't trust me," replied Alfonso with a sigh of exasperation. "But that shouldn't stop you from planting the bloom. You can put us all in jail for the time being if you like, but for goodness sake, why don't you just put the bloom in the ground now and end the city's suffering?"

"We may have to do just that," replied the general. "But for now, we will follow protocol. First, you and your party must be tested and questioned. Then the bloom will be planted. Understood? In any case, we can't plant the bloom just yet because, apparently, it has been damaged and I want our scientists to inspect it before we go forward. So, as you can see, there is much to do and little time to waste."

"Yeah," muttered Alfonso. He was frustrated and it was difficult to suppress his feelings. "At the very least, can you tell me a bit more about this place ... the Iron Pillow?"

"Oh you'll see soon enough," said the general rather mysteriously. "I'll be back in a few hours and tell you more. Why don't you just relax until then?"

"All right," replied Alfonso. "Can I bring my uncle Hill along? He's Dormian, you know, originally from Somnos. His—our—family might still be around."

"Not to worry," replied the general. "We have already begun to investigate whether your uncle really is who he claims to be."

***

Around midday, Alfonso and Hill were waiting patiently at the front door of the guesthouse when a magnificent silver-colored chariot arrived. The chariot had plush leather seats and a white
silky awning. It was pulled by a team of six shimmering white stallions. The chariot's driver was a small bearded man who nodded hello, introduced himself simply as Ivan, and then continued with what appeared to be a very deep and restful sleeping trance. The chariot's one passenger was General Loxoc, who sat in back. He beckoned for Alfonso and Hill to get in.

It took roughly ten minutes for the chariot to make its way back down the tower, around and around, and all the way to the street below. From this perspective, on the ground, the Founding Tree looked even bigger. Many of the tree's uppermost branches actually disappeared into the billowy white clouds passing above. Alfonso could now see that a man in a horse-drawn cart was actually driving down one of the tree's lowermost branches. The branch was so wide that it could apparently be used as a road. And, a little bit farther down this same branch, a team of thirty or so men appeared to be working on one of the tree's giant leaves. Some of these men were climbing up and down a series of rope ladders that dangled above the leaf. Others were actually standing on the leaf and sweeping it.

"What are those men doing up there?" asked Alfonso.

"They are leaf-sweepers," explained the general. "They perform essential maintenance of the tree, although now that it is dying, I'm afraid their work has become nearly impossible. They must devote all their time to picking up the falling leaves. Given their size and weight, it is a twenty-four-hour operation just to avoid chaos in the streets of Somnos."

"Excuse me," mumbled Ivan sleepily. "I don't mean to interrupt, but they are about to light the urns. Shall we stop and watch?"

"What is it?" asked Alfonso.

"The lighting of the urns is a daily tradition," said the general. "In the summer the urns are lit only at night, but during the winter—when the sky turns dark so early—we light them each afternoon. You arrived too late last night to witness it."

They stopped at the side of the street and got out. On the other side of the street was the massive wall that protected the city. Alfonso looked up and saw a shiny metal urn, at least ten feet in diameter, sitting in the curve of the wall. Ivan yelled. Alfonso looked up and saw a streak of red light shooting from the Founding Tree. It hit the urn squarely in the middle and it immediately burst into blood-red flames.

"That was incredible," gasped Alfonso. "Where did the arrow come from?"

"From the tree," replied General Loxoc proudly. "We have five urns that light up the walls of the city. Every evening, just at dusk, the five best archers fall asleep and aim for the urns. It's not hitting the urns that's difficult, it's the distance. You have to shoot the arrow over half the city."

"Do the archers ever shoot while awake?" Alfonso asked.

"Of course not," replied the general with a slight chuckle.

"I remember the urns," said Hill softly. "Aren't they a warning system of some sort?"

The general nodded.

"Wait—isn't there a rhyme?" asked Hill. "Wait—don't tell me. I believe it goes:
If the urns are red I You can rest your head I If the urns are green I Wake from your dream.
"

"Yes, indeed," said the general. "That's the English version, though the Dormian version is far more pleasing to the ear. It's one of the first things we teach our Dormian youth." He looked at Alfonso and explained, "You see, every archer in the Dormian army is given a few green-tipped arrows, and if the city is ever attacked, that archer can shoot the green-tipped arrow into any of the urns. This causes a special green flame to burn. And, every Dormian knows, green flame means danger lurks near."

After explaining this, the general gave a hand signal to Ivan and, seconds later, the chariot was speeding down a narrow and extremely windy road that snaked its way through the city. A large sign stood alongside the road:

"It means there is a dangerous road up ahead," said the general. "You must drive it while soundly asleep."

Alfonso glanced at Ivan.

"Don't worry about Ivan," said the general, who apparently sensed Alfonso's concern. "He is the best sleep-driver in Somnos."

"Does anyone do anything in this city while they're awake?" asked Alfonso.

"Of course!" said the general. "Some tasks are best done when you're asleep and others are best completed when you're
awake. For example, it is always best to be fast asleep when you do something that requires great dexterity or concentration—like racing a chariot, or shooting an arrow, or wielding a sword, or even playing sports. On the other hand, it's always best to be awake if you're doing something that requires creativity or decision making. So if you were playing chess or painting you'd definitely want to be awake. People are either awake or asleep depending on what they're doing. People in the outside world fall asleep only if they're tired, but we think that's terribly foolish."

Ivan steered their chariot onto a wider thoroughfare lined on both sides with restaurants whose names were written both in English and Dormian hieroglyphs on intricately carved wooden signboards. There was the Naptime Tearoom, the Sweet Dreams Pub, the Sonorous Snorer's Bistro, and to Alfonso's delight, the Great Sleeper Café. In front of each of these businesses were stacks of fresh towels and several large oak barrels filled with water. Alfonso observed that, before entering a restaurant, a patron would always dunk his or her head into a barrel and then dry off with a towel.

"What's with the head dunking?" asked Alfonso.

"That's how people wake up before they have a meal," explained the general. "It is considered rude to eat in your sleep in Somnos—at least at the good restaurants—and so the owners provide the barrels. Unfortunately, there is not much in the way of food these days in Somnos. Most restaurants are just serving water and bread."

As they continued to speed along, Alfonso witnessed many other curiosities. In each instance, the general provided an explanation. For example, Alfonso noticed that every house in Somnos had two doorknockers—one made of brass and the other made of cork. "You always use the cork knocker first because it is very quiet and, if the household is asleep, their hearing is quite sensitive," explained the general. "Then, if no one answers the first knock, it means the household is awake and you can use the loud brass knocker." When the chariot pulled past a weaver's shop, the general pointed out that all of the assistant weavers, who were mechanically and mindlessly weaving many strands of thread, were asleep. Meanwhile, the master weaver, who was deciding what pattern each assistant should use, was very much awake. A short while later, they drove past city hall, which consisted of two identical buildings: one housed the Waking Mayor and the other housed the Sleeping Mayor. When they passed a large three-story building with a red roof, the general explained that this was the Somnos Hospital for Problem Sleepers. This was where you went if your sleeping-self and your waking-self didn't get along.

"There are times when I would have liked to pay that place a visit," said Alfonso with a smile.

Eventually, the chariot turned off onto a side street and came to a halt in front of a ramshackle one-story home with a front door painted sky blue. Despite the fact that it looked perfectly ordinary, Hill stared at the house and scratched his head. "Strange. This place looks familiar," said Hill.

"Indeed," said General Loxoc. "According to the records found at city hall, this is the home where you and your brother, Leif, were born. Thus far it appears that you are indeed who you claim to be."

"Oh my..." gasped Hill. "I never thought I'd live to see it again ...
this
is the place! My mother painted the front door and my father ... My father used to grow tomatoes on the roof!"

"The building now belongs to a local shoe cobbler," explained the general. "He's not home right now, but I met with him earlier today, and he gave me a key so we could take a peek inside."

"What?" asked Hill. His voice had choked down to a whisper. "What about my parents? The
grandparents
to the Great Sleeper! Where do they live now?"

The general cleared his throat and looked at the ground.

"I'm afraid they both passed away—it was just a few months ago," said the general. "I'm very sorry. Your mother died of pneumonia once Somnos turned cold and we began to run out of food." He sighed. "I didn't want to tell you this, but here it is: apparently, your father died shortly thereafter. I am very sorry indeed."

Hill stared at the house. His eyes had a wild, red sheen to them, as if they had been rubbed with sand. He turned to look at Alfonso. "Were they still alive when we met in World's End? Maybe if we had gone faster. I thought of taking the plane straight to Barsh-yin-Binder, but I just didn't think it was possible..." Hill buried his face in his hands. His shoulders heaved and a low moan, terrible in its intensity, wracked his body.

Alfonso couldn't look. At that moment, he was overcome with thoughts of Judy and Pappy. How awful it would be to return home and discover that your closest relatives had died in your absence. The thought was terrifying and at that very moment Alfonso said a silent prayer for his mother and grandfather.

"One other thing," said General Loxoc. "You have a sister, Elisa, who was born after you left Somnos. She became a Wanderer. I'm told she promised her parents to search the world for you and Leif. We believe she might be in Tasmania. We're looking for more information."

"Well that's good news, isn't it?" asked Alfonso.

Hill said nothing. He stared blankly at the blue front door.

"Would you like to take a look inside the house?" asked the general. "I have the key."

"No, thank you," said Hill hoarsely. "I'm not quite feeling up to it." Still, he stepped down out of the chariot and walked slowly to the blue front door. He placed his left hand on the faded paint. He whispered something intelligible, and then returned to the chariot. He looked at Loxoc. "Her name is Elisa?"

BOOK: Dormia
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