Rivers of Fire (Atherton, Book 2) (6 page)

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nerves frayed, and without thinking he threw the stone hard and fast. Tyler was not a terribly good shot, and the stone, which was about the size of his fist, went right past Horace and hit the horse instead. The horse bucked into the air, then jerked the rope out of Joseph's hand and bolted into the darkness.

Horace watched the horse run away, then turned back to Tyler. "You must come out of the House of Power!"

Joseph put a hand on Horace's shoulder, asking him to please stop for a moment. He understood what Horace was doing, but he was just about as tired of hearing Horace yell as Tyler was.

"Horace is right, Tyler," Joseph said to the man standing above him, speaking in an even tone. "We have to leave this place, and quickly."

Tyler was resolved to keep his post---to make Sir Emerik proud of him and hold the House of Power from its enemies -- but if others wanted to leave, he knew he couldn't make them stay. He didn't have the sort of authority that would force them to obey out of fear or respect. Who could have guessed things would have unraveled as they had in the middle of the night, and so quickly?

The group that had remained in the House of Power since the Highlands had fallen into Tabletop was comprised almost entirely of young men without families, along with a handful of women without husbands or children. Two of these men removed the beam that secured the doors, swinging them open. Everyone but Tyler streamed out and stood before Joseph and Horace in a circle three deep.

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It was there that they were told the Highlands were sinking into Atherton.

Horace laid out the plans of where they were going and why, along with his conviction that the Highlands might very well be inescapable by morning. He was emphatic in his argument that the people in Tabletop could be trusted, and he explained how Lord Phineus had tried but failed to poison everyone in the three villages beneath the waterfalls.

Some in the group were not entirely convinced they should leave the safety of the fortress or that they could ally with the people of Tabletop. Among them were some of the guards-- their lungs still tight from coughing--who had been hit with black figs and orange dust in the recent confrontation with the villagers. But their fears were overshadowed by the thought of being trapped in a sinking prison of walls and darkness. The very idea of it was haunting.

"We must take as much food and water as we can carry from inside," said Horace.

"What if we run out of water? What then?" asked one of the guards.

"We no doubt choose between the lesser of two evils," said Horace. "Stay here and sink into oblivion, or leave and risk a shortage of water."

And then Horace said something no one had expected.

"A falling Highlands may mean rising water. It's possible we could build a new basket system that can be lowered into the abyss to attain water. Better to be dipping into a giant well than be stuck at the bottom of one."

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Few had thought of this possible eventuality. The idea of a dark, watery grave was universally terrifying.

"What of the horses?" asked the man who'd been watching over them. Many of the horses were kept in a stable outside the House of Power, but there were ten or more inside, held at the inner stable on the other side of the courtyard.

"If you want them to live, you'll need to get them out," said Horace.

But the time for getting horses or anything else out of the House of Power had passed, for as the group turned back to retrieve horses and supplies, they saw the doors slamming shut. There was a mad dash toward the closed doors as Tyler lifted one end of the timber and dropped it into place. Then he darted to the other end of the timber, hefting it into the air with all his might as the crowd outside barreled forward and crashed into the doors. One of the doors began to swing open, but Tyler pushed hard against the beam of wood and wedged it tightly, locking himself inside.

He could hear the sound of angry voices outside, but it was muffled from where he stood, and this gave him a small measure of satisfaction. He backed away from the doors, so very hungry and tired, and walked unsteadily into the courtyard until he could hear the voices no more.

***

And so it was that while Sir Emerik, Lord Phineus, Samuel, and Isabel descended into Mead's Hollow, a fourth village sprang

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up on Atherton. On the far side of the Highlands, as far away from the other villages of Tabletop as could be managed, there came into existence the Village of Horses. The village was comprised of all the people from the Highlands along with the horses that could be found outside of the House of Power. When the last of the horses leaped for the edge, the Highlands were a full five feet below Tabletop.

An hour later dawn was about to break on Atherton. Everyone in the Village of Horses stood at the edge looking down at their old home, filled with dread as they considered the day that lay before them. The Highlands were almost twenty feet beneath them now, and they could actually see them moving down ever so slowly, a gurgling, grinding noise coming from under their feet.

There was something at once beautiful and terrible about seeing their home collapse. It was a lonely place to look at in the coming light of morning, deep shadows casting over a once superior realm. And yet the House of Power had never before been seen from above, and it was a magnificent thing to behold with its gleaming white stone walls and green gardens, its rising turrets and winding staircases. From above it had the appearance of a magical, stately place being overcome by an evil darkness.

"What will become of us?" asked Gill of no one in particular.

"That all depends on the choices we make," said Horace, who stood nearby. "It's a brand-new day, a chance to set things right."

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Gill scanned the line of trees that surrounded the Highlands. They had once stood high and mighty around him--forty feet or more--but soon he would be staring down at their tops. He turned to say something to Horace and saw that he had moved off and was staring toward the far edge of Atherton with a troubled look on his face.

Horace's closest allies, Gill among them, approached him as a group. "What is it?" asked Gill, gazing as Horace did toward the edge of the world. "What do you see?"

Horace knew what might be coming. They had talked at length in the night of what was to happen next, of how the people would need to be told of the coming danger, and of what each of Horace's men must do. He turned to his men and spoke with fear in his voice, echoing the words he'd heard Maude say in the Village of Rabbits.

"We must all unite against the one foe. It's our only chance."

The Cleaners.

"Get some horses ready," said Horace. "It's time."

***

When morning came to Atherton it felt as if a new world was being lit for the first time. All the changes that had come before seemed to rush into the one charged moment of dawn. From every vantage point, the same message was clear and sharp as a knife.

Atherton was not the place it had once been.

Briney and Maude, the keepers of the inn, stood motionless

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and silent in the Village of Rabbits, staring at the line of trees where cliffs had once risen into the sky. The Highlands lay dark and wide against the rising sun, and it felt like much of what had made this secret place so powerful had fallen away along with its descent. "I miss the cliffs," said Briney, putting an arm around his wife. "It was a place to put my back against where no one could sneak up behind me."

This feeling was shared by many. Three lands previously separated by tall cliffs were now together as one. It was unsettling for people like Briney and Maude who'd lived in the safety of the middle, in the peaceful round world of groves and pastures that had been Tabletop. Danger seemed to close in from all sides as it never had before, because the world of Atherton was flat.

Or was it?

"Those trees don't seem as tall as they did last night, before dark," said Maude, narrowing her eyes toward the Highlands and trying to remember. "I'm sure of it. Those trees are shorter."

Briney looked at his wife and moved his hand to the small of her back.

"How long has it been since you slept?" he asked.

"I'm not seeing things, Briney!" The strain of all of the upheaval was apparent in Maude's trembling voice. Briney had always been the more sensitive of the two, and he didn't like what he was hearing. He was sure she was exhausted, that her eyes were playing tricks on her. Maybe it would calm her down if he looked to the Highlands again and pretended to believe her, so

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he gazed hard in the direction of the trees, which stood clustered all along the edge of his sight.

There was a strange sound coming from a long way off, right along the line where the cliffs used to be. Briney and Maude both looked toward a small group of men on horses, the pounding of hooves growing nearer.

"That will be Horace," said Maude. She could see it was him by the shining bald head atop the lead horse. "I wonder why he didn't come across the middle of the Highlands, as he did before."

This was Maude's way of telling Briney she had been right. The Highlands had indeed begun to slide down inside of Atherton--why else would Horace take the long way around?

Maude turned in the direction of the Flatlands, her mind suddenly caught by another idea.

"I hope he has some good news," she said. "I'm not certain everyone in the Highlands is ready to put the fighting behind us."

Briney tried to remember how far away the edge of Tabletop leading down to the Flatlands had once been. He replayed in his mind the images of the creatures Maude had described in the night.

"The Cleaners are coming, aren't they?" he said. There was a long pause in which the two found each other's hands and held tight.

"They're coming," answered Maude.

***

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Somewhere off in the distance, in the craggy rocks of the Flatlands, a Cleaner caught the scent of horses on the air. It was a new smell for the creature, one it liked. Darkness was on the decline in Atherton and the time for eating had arrived. The beast clicked its sharp, crooked teeth together, calling its horde near, and a pack of evil monsters began moving toward the Village of Horses.

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*** CHAPTER 8 THE FALLING ROPE

"It must be thirty feet to the bottom, and it's still moving," said Dr. Kincaid. He had arrived at the edge of the Highlands with Vincent and Edgar. The three companions were astonished to see how far the Highlands had already crashed inside Atherton.

"This is taking place faster than I'd expected," added Dr. Kincaid.

"You
knew
this was going to happen?" asked Edgar. He stared first at Dr. Kincaid and then at Vincent. He could see by the looks on their faces that they'd known all along.

"Why didn't you tell me?" said Edgar.

"It would have only confused and frightened you more," said Dr. Kincaid. "I'm trying to tell you things as you need to know them, no sooner. And besides, I'm finding Atherton not

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always as I expect. Some of my information is turning out to be ... unreliable." He stepped closer to the edge of the cliff. "I imagined we'd walk right in without any problem, but it appears the Highlands are descending quite a bit faster than I'd calculated."

"It will make everything more difficult," added Vincent.

Edgar looked over the edge into the Highlands and felt a sudden exhilaration, forgetting for a moment the chaos of the changing world around him.

"I can climb over this ledge. I can get down there."

Vincent scanned the line of trees on the other side and wondered who might be waiting within them. Then his eyes settled on the boy. "The longer we wait, the more distance there is to climb down." Vincent looked at Dr. Kincaid, who was mumbling to himself, and then back at Edgar with an expression that asked,
Even if we could do it ourselves, how are we going to get Dr. Kincaid down there? He's too old.

Edgar crouched down and scanned along the floor of the Highlands. "There!" he said, pointing. He had spied one of the giant baskets that used to hang down from the Highlands. The contraption was created for Highlanders to receive food from those in Tabletop, who alone harvested figs and supplied rabbit and lamb meat for the privileged living above them. It was strange to see the basket lying there on its side, discarded and useless, when it had once acted as the only lifeline between the two realms.

Edgar didn't wait for Vincent or Dr. Kincaid to answer. He wanted to make quick work of the thirty feet, grab the rope

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attached to the basket, and bring it back. Without further thought he threw his legs over the edge and started sliding down until Vincent caught hold of Edgar's good arm. He gazed long and hard into Edgar's eyes.

"Are you sure you can do this?" he asked. "It's a long fall to the bottom if you miss a step." Edgar looked down and saw that there were plenty of places to put his feet and hands. He nodded.

"And are you sure this is a risk worth taking?" asked Vincent, looking now at Dr. Kincaid. "Our way is more treacherous than you anticipated."

Dr. Kincaid bent down on one knee, ignoring Vincent and placing all of his attention on the boy hanging precariously from the ledge. "Do you think the Cleaners can be overcome?"

Edgar thought about the question. The Cleaners were giant, ferocious creatures designed to find and kill anything in their paths. They had always been trapped in the Flatlands, but the Flatlands had risen and a thousand Cleaners had been unleashed on the world of Atherton.

"No," admitted Edgar. "Even with every person on Atherton in the fight, I don't think we can survive against the Cleaners."

"You're wrong," said Dr. Kincaid, touching Edgar on the shoulders. "They
can
be overcome. The answer lies in the House of Power." He glanced over the edge. "Only you can take us past an obstacle of this kind."

Edgar's eyes sparkled beneath raised brows, and a wide smile revealed a gleaming row of teeth. He was about to climb, something he thought he'd never do again, and Dr. Kincaid