Dormia (20 page)

At the far end of the cavern they saw an impressive-looking mansion carved completely out of the rock wall. Two guards dressed in ornamental tunics stood on either side of the entrance. The front door was open and they saw a roaring fire inside. Above the door was a scarlet-colored banner that read:

Inside, the Prince Binder Hotel looked like something from Paris or perhaps Istanbul in the early 1800s. It was fancy, but completely out of date. There were wooden floors, very low ceilings, kerosene lights, ancient-looking Persian carpets, and several overstuffed pillows occupied by old men who were playing backgammon and smoking water pipes. In the corner sat an old player piano, playing a sad and sleepy melody all by itself.

They followed Resuza to a registration window at the rear of the room. It was empty, save for an ornate bell that sat on a wooden ledge at the bottom of the window. Resuza rang the bell loudly. Half a minute passed and no one appeared. Resuza rang it again. Immediately they heard muffled shouts and the sounds of furniture tipping over. A tall man wearing a three-piece suit, a fluffy neck cravate, and a monocle appeared at the window. A nearby hanging lamp made his bald head gleam. He smiled broadly and bowed.

"Greetings and salutations, most honored guests," he began. "And welcome to the Prince Binder, the Arctic's most exclusive luxury inn. I am Count Zippricz, owner and manager of this establishment. How may I assist you?"

Hill cleared his throat. "Just a room," he said. "We are tired and won't trouble you with anything else."

Count Zippricz bowed so low that his head almost touched the wooden ledge. "With the greatest pleasure," he said. "You'll find the Prince Binder has everything you could possibly desire. And of course, the Trawpoy itself is a splendid area for any sporting or cultural pursuits you might have. Yes, the Trawpoy is an oasis for weary travelers. And nowhere is that more clear than in the Prince Binder!"

"So we're perfectly safe?" asked Hill.

Count Zippricz's smile faded. "Within reason," he replied. "This is Barsh-yin-Binder, after all. Indeed it has an illustrious name, but I won't lie to you, these are difficult times." He leaned in close and whispered urgently, "Go upstairs to your room immediately. It's on the third floor. Lock the door and let no one in.
No one.
Say nothing while you are here, and if you can help it, do not leave the hotel. Do you understand? The
Dragoonya have a stranglehold on our fair city. And even they, wretched creatures that they are, can't keep the thieves at bay. I've been robbed three times this month."

He straightened up, handed them a rusted key attached to an oversize wooden knob, and proclaimed, "Welcome again, kind sirs! And enjoy your stay!" With that, he reached up to the top of the registration window and abruptly pulled down a metal grate that securely closed off all access to the window. He then turned and ran away.

They all looked at Resuza. She nodded in a determined way, took the key, and led them up three flights of stairs, down a musty hallway, and into a large room with four beds and a small balcony that looked out onto the street.

"This room suits me fine," said Hill with a nod. "Thank you, Resuza." He paused and looked at Alfonso and Bilblox. "That was a nasty business with that family in the dog cages," he said. "Do the Dragoonya have many slaves?"

Resuza's eyes darkened. She nodded, but said nothing.

"You've lived in Barsh-yin-Binder all your life?" Hill asked.

"No," Resuza replied softly. "I grew up in a little village in the foothills of the Urals. I came to this miserable city only a few years ago."

"We're going to the foothills very soon," said Alfonso. "Can you help us buy supplies and get out of the city as soon as possible?"

Resuza beamed. "Of course, of course. I am the only dependable guide in Barsh-yin-Binder with extensive experience in the surrounding regions. You won't be disappointed!"

Bilblox looked uneasy with this arrangement, but Alfonso's
mind was made up. They needed to trust someone, and after all, Resuza had already helped them once.

That decided, they swiftly prepared for bed. If all went well, they would spend only one night in the Prince Binder, and they all knew it might be the last real bed they would see for many weeks.

***

Alfonso fell asleep with one arm around the top hat containing the Dormian bloom. He slept soundly until three in the morning, when he woke to the sound of a muffled cry. He sat up in bed with his heart pounding and glanced at his companions. They were all fast asleep.

Alfonso looked around the room and immediately noticed that the door leading out to the balcony was open. It swayed back and forth thanks to a gentle breeze entering the room.
Who opened that door?
Alfonso crept out of bed and made his way across the room. He paused to see if he could hear anything. Utter silence.

He continued forward and poked his head out onto the balcony. The street below was quiet. He was about to duck back into his room when he sensed another presence on the balcony. He turned quickly to his right. There, standing flush against the outer wall, stood Kiril. Kiril's face was drenched in sweat and he was breathing heavily. In his right hand he held a sword. A second sword was sheathed and tucked into his belt. Alfonso's entire body convulsed in a spasm of fright. He tried to
speak, but no words came to his mouth. Finally he managed to stammer, "Wha-wha-what are you doing here?"

"You fool!" hissed Kiril. "I'm protecting you and the bloom!"

"What do you mean?"

"This cursed city is filthy with thieves," hissed Kiril. "You're being stalked. You'll need to protect yourself. Here, take this!" Kiril quickly reached into his jacket and pulled out a dagger whose blade was covered with blood. With trembling fingers, Alfonso grasped the weapon's handle. Instinctively, Alfonso glanced once more at Kiril's sword and—this time—he noticed that it too was streaked with blood.

"Now go back inside!" snapped Kiril.

Alfonso shrank backwards and stumbled into the room. Seconds later, someone began pounding furiously on the door that led to the main hallway.

Hill sprang up from bed, holding his Colt .45 pistol. "Who's there?" he yelled.

"I-I-It's Count Zippricz!" came the stammering reply. "Is everyone all right?"

Hill walked over to the door and opened it. Count Zippricz emerged from the shadows. His face looked ashen white and his hands were shaking. "A band—of—four thieves—broke—into the hotel," he explained between terrified gasps. "They killed the—two guards—out front and they would've—killed us all until—
someone beheaded all—of them.
" Count Zippricz stared at Bilblox and Resuza, who had jumped out of bed at the commotion and were standing behind Hill.

"I pray that all of you are safe," he said.

Hill nodded and lowered his pistol. "Come," he said to Alfonso. "Let's search the room and make sure everything is
fine." Alfonso put on a heavy sweater and, very stealthily, he took the dagger that Kiril had given him and slipped it under his sweater. He could feel the blood on the dagger's blade dampening his undershirt. Alfonso said nothing—it was best to keep the weapon a secret for now.

Hill and Alfonso searched every nook and cranny of the room—including the bathroom and the balcony—but there were no signs of anything unusual.

"I wonder where he went?" muttered Alfonso.

"You wonder where
who
went?" asked Hill.

"Kiril," replied Alfonso. "I saw him on the balcony just before Count Zippricz arrived."

Hill stopped short. "Are you certain it was Kiril?" he asked.

Alfonso nodded.

"Then somehow he found us," said Hill. "But I don't understand. If he's Dragoonya, why haven't we been captured?"

Alfonso shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "It doesn't make sense."

Later that night, once everyone had returned to their beds and fallen back asleep, Alfonso reached into his sweater and pulled out the dagger that Kiril had given him. A small candle was burning on a nightstand near Alfonso's bed and in its dim, flickering light he could make out the intricate carving on the dagger's handle. Most prominently, there was an insignia that looked quite familiar:
. It took Alfonso a moment to identify the symbol and then, quite suddenly, he recalled seeing it in
McBridge's Book of Mythical Plants.
This was the symbol of Dormia.

T
HE MORNING
light didn't make Alfonso feel any better. He couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. Kiril's actions made no sense. After all, from the very beginning—back in World's End—Kiril had focused on acquiring the plant. If Kiril was skilled enough to single-handedly behead four thieves, he could've stolen the plant while they were sleeping, even if Alfonso had his arm around it. What kind of devious plans did Kiril—and his "father"—have for Alfonso? Or was it possible, as improbable as it seemed, that Kiril was actually trying to help?

These questions spun through Alfonso's mind that morning as he and Bilblox prepared to leave the Prince Binder Hotel in search of a shop that belonged to one Dr. Van Bambleweep. According to Resuza, Dr. Van Bambleweep was the closest thing to a real doctor in the entire city of Barsh-yin-Binder. Alfonso hoped that Dr. Van Bambleweep could examine Bilblox's eyes to see if anything could be done to help him regain his sight. Meanwhile, Hill and Resuza would spend the morning buying supplies for their trip into the Ural Mountains. They would need food, tents, maps, sleds, dogs, and plenty of warm clothing. If all went well, they would leave Barsh-yin-Binder by evening.

Alfonso and Bilblox exited the Prince Binder Hotel and walked out into the massive Trawpoy cavern. They passed the large hot spring where they had seen several old men bathing the night before. It was hard to shake a feeling of deep uneasiness as they walked around and remembered Count Zippricz's warnings, as well as the incident from the previous night.

The hot springs were all empty except for a few small turtles swimming about in them. The entire cavern was still quite dark. The only indication that it was morning came from the holes in the ceiling of the cavern that allowed in a few beams of dim sunlight. Alfonso and Bilblox walked several hundred yards across the cavern until they found a small storefront carved into the rock. It had a window, which was far too fogged with steam to see through, and a round green door with a sign that read
VAN BAMBLEWEEP & SONS: BOOKS, MAPS, ANTIQUES, & SAGE MEDICAL ADVICE SINCE
1369
OR THEREABOUTS
. Alfonso and Bilblox stared at the sign for a moment.

"What the heck kind of doctor's office is this?" asked Bilblox.

"I'm not sure," said Alfonso. "But we might as well find out."

Alfonso stepped up to the door and knocked on it heavily. A minute or so later, the door creaked open. An elderly man, with only his white hair and chin visible, peered out at them.

"Come in
quickly.
No one must know that I am here!" the man furiously whispered.

Alfonso and Bilblox were confused, but followed the man's instruction and stepped through the door. After they entered, the door slammed shut and they stood in near darkness. The old man peeked out his front window to see if Alfonso and Bilblox had been followed. He was very tall and he wore a white doctor's coat and a pair of glasses whose lenses were tinted dark green. He had a scraggly white beard and raw pink-colored skin that looked as if it had been scrubbed vigorously with a rough brush. His hands, which were trembling, had spindly fingers with enormously long yellowish fingernails that curled into curlicues. He smelled of sour pickles.

"I don't mean to be rude, old chaps, but I don't want the Dragoonya to know that I'm home," explained the man in a quavering and very creaky voice. He had the same sort of old-fashioned English accent as Resuza. "Those thugs are a wretched lot—not one of them is fit to hold a wax candle—so I usually keep a low profile. But obviously, you're not Dragoonya. What can I do for you?"

"We need to talk to you about a medical problem," explained Alfonso.