They will follow him anywhere, I thought, even through Death’s Gate.
But it seems likely that we will find death before we will find Death’s Gate. The only positive factor we have encountered on our Journey thus far is that the temperature has, at least, moderated; growing somewhat warmer. I begin to think that we have been following the correct route, that we are drawing nearer to our destination—Abarrach’s fiery heart.
“It is a hopeful sign,” I said to Edmund, at the end of another bleak and cheerless cycle, traversing the tunnels. ‘A hopeful sign,” I repeated confidently.
What fears and misgivings I have, I am keeping to myself. It is needless to pile more burdens on those young shoulders, strong though they may be.
“Look,” I continued, pointing at the map, “you will note that when we come to the end of the tunnels, they open up on a great pool of magma, that lies outside. The Lake of Burning Rock, it is named—the first major landmark we would see on entering the Kairn Necros. I cannot be certain, but I believe it is the heat from this lake, seeping up through the tunnel, that we are feeling.”
“Which means that we are near the end of our journey,” Edmund said, his face—that has grown much too thin—lighting with hope.
“You must eat more, My Prince,” I said to him gently. “Eat at least your share. You will not help the people if you fall sick or grow too weak to go on.”
He shook his head; I knew he would. But I knew, as well, that he would consider my advice seriously. That sleep-half, I saw him consume what small amount of food was handed to him.
“Yes,” I continued, returning to the map, “I believe that we are near the end. I think, in fact, we must be about here,” I placed a finger on the parchment. “Two cycles more and we reach the lake, provided that we don’t run into any further obstacles.”
“And then we are in Kairn Necros. And surely there we will find a realm of plenty. Surely we will find food and water. Look at this huge ocean that they call the Fire Sea.” He indicated a large body of magma. “It must bring light and warmth to all this vast region of land. And these cities and towns. Look at this one, Baltazar. Safe Harbor. What a wonderful name. I take that as a hopeful sign. Safe Harbor, where at last our people can find peace and happiness.”
He spent a long time, studying the map, imagining aloud what this place or that must look like, how the people would talk, how surprised they will be to see us.
I sat back against the cavern wall and let him talk. It gave me pleasure, to see him hopeful and happy once more. Almost, it made me forget the terrible pangs of hunger gnawing at my vitals, the more terrible fears that gnaw at my waking hours.
Why should I burst his pretty bubble? Why prick it with reality’s sharp-edged sword? After all, I know nothing for certain. “Theories,” his father, the king, would have termed them in scorn. All I have are theories.
Supposition: The Fire Sea is shrinking. It can no longer provide the vast regions of land around it with warmth and light.
Theory: We will not find realms of plenty. We will find realms as barren, desolate, and deserted as that which we left behind. That is why the people of Kairn Necros stole light and warmth from us.
“They’ll be surprised to see us,” Edmund says, smiling to himself at the thought.
“Yes,” I say to myself. Very surprised. Very surprised indeed.
Kairn Necros. Named thus by the ancients who first came to this world, named to honor those who had lost their lives in the Sundering of the old world, named to indicate the end of one life and the beginning—the bright beginning, it was then—of another.
Oh, Edmund, My Prince, My Son. Take that name for your sign. Not Safe Harbor. Safe Harbor is a lie.
Kairn Necros. The Cavern of Death.
CHAPTER * 6
THE LAKE OF