Dormia (42 page)

Now it was Bilblox's turn to laugh. "Are ya serious?" asked Bilblox with a chuckle. "Yer in prison and, as if that ain't bad enough, yer in a walled-in valley. Heck, yer in a prison within a prison. Trust me, fella, I know. We only barely made it into this place. There's nothin' around this valley for days in every direction except snow and ice. Believe me when I tell ya that yer trapped and ya ain't gettin' out."

"Now don't so be negative, Leafy—you're just feeling depressed," said Clink sympathetically. "You'll see, I'll hatch a good escape plan for us. In the meantime, tell me about the outside world. Tell me everything you remember. Spare me no details, no matter how boring or seemingly inconsequential. If the water tastes different in the outside world or if the air has a different color, I want to know!"

"Not much to tell," said Bilblox with a sigh. "The outside world is a lot like here, only bigger. Of course, there are a whole
lot more people, and those folks sleep properly, but otherwise it ain't all that different."

"Excellent!" said Clink. "I plan to see it all. I'll visit Shanghai, then Paris, then Jerusalem, then Atlantis—"

"Atlantis is underwater, I think," interjected Bilblox.

"Don't be negative!" said Clink excitedly. "If the place is underwater then I shall swim there. I aim to see the world and no one can stop me!"

"Be my guest," said Bilblox. "But first, ya mind tellin' me how come ya been in jail eleven times?"

"Easy," said Clink. "I was born disreputable, and I guess I've just been going strong in that direction ever since." Bilblox could hear him walking back and forth. "My mother, Esmelexia, sewed clothes for everyone in the neighborhood. And when that didn't pay the bills, she was a pickpocket. Being a pickpocket turned out to be a very hard line of work in this city. As you can imagine, it's very hard to rob people when they are asleep. They usually hear you coming a mile away. And those who are awake know better than to carry a wallet on them because they'd just be sitting ducks. You know how it is—most people are awful clumsy when they're awake. But my dear old mother tried her best."

"A pickpocket?" asked Bilblox. "In Somnos?"

"She was the only one," said Clink. "I helped her when I was a kid, so moving into picking locks was easy. I'm the world's best picklock. Ask anyone. That's why they call me Clink."

"Well then how'd you get caught eleven times?" Bilblox asked.

Clink sounded annoyed. "When you live in a place where it's
impossible to leave, eventually you get caught," he said. "There are only so many hiding places. As you pointed out: Somnos is one big prison. But I'm telling you Leafy, you and me, we're busting out of this place. With my knack for escaping places, and your knowledge of the outside world, we'll be unstoppable."

Clink approached Bilblox's bed and began to whisper: "I can escape any time I want, but the hard part is leaving Somnos. Tell you what: I'll get you out of here, no questions asked. But
you
have to promise to get me out of Somnos. Do we have a deal?"

"I told ya already," said Bilblox with a sigh of exasperation, "I don't know how to get outta Somnos."

"Well can you at least point me in the right direction?" asked Clink hopefully.

Bilblox thought about this. Though he had been in prison for only a very short period of time, the idea of escaping was irresistible. But then he imagined Alfonso getting the news that he had escaped. Typical behavior for a leaf-burner, everyone would say.

Bilblox shook his head. "No," he finally said. "I ain't escapin'."

"Why not?" said Clink.

Bilblox said nothing.

"Suit yourself," replied his cellmate. "But I'm leaving tonight. I can escape whenever I want, you know. It's just that Somnos is a small place. Escaping this jail is the only fun I get."

The day dragged on. It grew colder, and Bilblox could hear Clink muttering to himself and blowing on his hands. Bilblox was too numb to be cold. He lay on his mattress and tried unsuccessfully to sleep. His mind journeyed back in time to Fort
Krasnik and to the
Success Story.
Over and over, he returned to that moment on the
Success Story
when he touched the powder and rolled it curiously in his hands. He had been tired, that much he remembered. And so it was perfectly normal for him to yawn and to rub his tired eyes with his hands. In that small moment, his life had changed forever. Now he was blind and facing life in prison. The sadness of it all overwhelmed him. He sighed heavily. Then, completely unexpectedly, he saw a flash of bright light. A moment later, his vision returned.

Bilblox leapt to his feet and shouted with joy. He knew that this spell of vision wouldn't last. Although he still experienced brief moments of sight, in recent days they had hardly come at all. However, when they did, he could see perfectly for a few precious minutes.

"Wh-wh-what happened?" asked Clink excitedly.

"My eyes can see again," said Bilblox happily. "Really, it's true. I can see."

He quickly walked over to the cell's thickly barred window and stood there, drinking in the sight of the sky and the landscape, which was bathed in moonlight. He couldn't remember seeing a more beautiful sight in his entire life.

"Not a bad view, eh?" asked Clink.

Bilblox nodded and turned back. He saw Clink for the first time; he was a tall, skinny man with a wild mane of scraggly hair. Clink reminded Bilblox of a paintbrush, with his narrow body and a thick bushy top. He was so skinny that Bilblox could make out most of his bones. The cell looked grim. The floor was muddy and the roughly cut stone walls were covered with a slick-looking green moss that was flecked with specks of ice. He turned back, grabbed the iron bars of the window, and felt the
rust flake off in his hands. The feel of the bars in his hands should have depressed him, but it didn't. At that moment Bilblox felt surprisingly happy. In fact, he wondered if he'd ever been happier. It was so good to see again! For a few minutes, he stood there, staring out. He marveled at the movements of the clouds and the incredible Ural Mountains looming above everything else. Their snow-covered flanks slowly turned a phosphorescent gray in the moonlight.

Bilblox tried to keep his eyes open as much as possible. He was afraid that if he closed them—even to blink—his vision would disappear. He swiveled his head back and forth, trying to see everything. Everything looked normal; in other words, beautiful. Only one thing struck him as odd: just beyond the prison wall he could see someone walking alone in the snow-covered landscape, as if out for an evening stroll. It was an older man. His back bowed heavily to the ground and he staggered forward, leaning on an old cane for support. There was something familiar about that walk.

"Clink," said Bilblox.

"Yes?"

"Do ya know all the guards here?"

"I guess so," Clink replied. "I've been here eleven times, you know."

"Yeah, I know," said Bilblox. "How about that old guy outside the prison walls? Ain't he too old to be a guard?"

"Maybe he's not a guard," said Clink. He walked to the window and looked at the old man. "Strange. He's not wearing a prison guard uniform, and he's certainly no prisoner. Maybe he's lost. Sometimes these elderly Dormians, well, they get a little confused.
Especially
if they're awake."

"He looks very familiar...," said Bilblox, his voice trailing away. But who exactly? The old man stopped and looked in Bilblox's direction. At that point, the moon retreated behind some clouds, and Bilblox couldn't see the old man's face. Still, an unmistakable chill ran down the longshoreman's spine. After a long pause, the old man continued walking and soon disappeared from sight.

Bilblox's rare moments of vision usually lasted only three or four minutes, and unfortunately, this was no exception. His vision disappeared moments later and the awful blank whiteness in his eyes returned. Bilblox moved away from the window and the gentle breezes and shuffled to his mattress. He sat down.

"What happened?" asked Clink.

"What do ya think happened?" said Bilblox. "I'm blind again." He recalled what Dr. Van Bambleweep had told him back in Barsh-yin-Binder:
your blindness is irreversible and it's only going to get worse.

As he recalled those words, Bilblox froze.

"Van Bambleweep—that's who it is!" he shouted. Bilblox stood up, walked over to the window, and stared blankly outside. "But what would
he
be doing here? It doesn't make sense..."

"What are you talking about?" asked Clink.

"Clink!" exclaimed Bilblox. "I've changed my mind. Can ya get us outta here?"

Clink sprang up from his mattress, his eyes shining with excitement. "I'm only the most famous escape artist in Somnos!" he proclaimed. "Let's go!"

T
HAT NIGHT
, Alfonso tossed and turned. The knowledge that Bilblox was sitting in a prison cell made him feel both angry and guilty. The following morning, he tiredly joined Hill and Spack for breakfast, although it was soon interrupted by a loud knock.

"Who could that be?" asked Hill.

"I'll get it," said Spack. She stood up and headed for the front door of the guesthouse. Moments later, she returned with an elderly man at her side. He was completely bald except for a few specks of curly white hair that stuck up from his head. He had a long white beard that reached down to his waist, and was dressed in a spotless white robe.

"This is Josephus," explained Spack. "He says he's some kind of historian or something."

"I am the royal scribe of Somnos, which is just a fancy way of saying that I take a lot of notes," explained Josephus with a hearty laugh. "It is my job to write your story for the history books. As you know, the Dormian bloom is scheduled to be planted either later today or tomorrow morning, and I would like to conduct this interview before then. That would be in keeping with custom of course. You see, every time a Great Sleeper arrives, the royal scribe records his or her story—"

"Can't we do this later?" Alfonso interrupted.

Josephus looked at Alfonso with total bewilderment.

"Alfonso," said Hill. "Let's go with him. It would do us good to get out of here for a while."

"Excellent!" declared Josephus. "I'm also interested to hear about the outside world. We've had no news in some four hundred years. I'm most curious to know whether the British ever confronted the Spanish armada."

A few minutes later, the entire group—Josephus, Alfonso, Hill, and Spack—climbed into Josephus's carriage. It jerked forward and within seconds they were hurtling down the steep, spiraling road that connected their guesthouse with the city below. Soon they arrived at the Somnos library. It was an imposing five-story building made of the same marble as the six towers. A long rectangular slab of stone with an inscription on it adorned the front of the building. Josephus explained that the inscription was Dormian hieroglyphs.

"What does it say?" asked Hill.

"Ahh yes," said Josephus excitedly. "A very good question. The inscription comes from the ancient Story of the Tree and, interestingly enough, it pertains directly to Alfonso."

"To me?" inquired Alfonso. "What do you mean?"

"Well," said Josephus, "the inscription says, roughly translated, 'Study the path of the Great Sleeper and all will be well.'"

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Alfonso.

"Simple," replied Josephus. "We learn to better protect ourselves by examining how Great Sleepers either succeed or fail. That's how all the rituals developed. For example, we had to make sure that you were not an imposter, because—as you know—a Dragoonya soldier once posed as a Great Sleeper, entered the city of Loptos, and then burned it to the ground. That's why you were tested. We are also interested in how exactly a Great Sleeper gets his or her hands on Dormian seeds. I believe you got yours from a maraca. We have used other devices to send seeds out into the world—including necklaces, belts, and even earrings—but have found, from interviewing previous Great Sleepers, that maracas work best.

"That's also how we developed the Wanderer's watch that you used to get here. Aldwyn Blodeuwedd helped us develop it. Believe it or not, there is actually a Dormian seed from the current Founding Tree of Somnos implanted within that Wanderer's watch. For reasons that we still don't fully understand, Dormian seeds typically shed their seed coat, or outermost shell, roughly one hundred and forty three days before the death of the Founding Tree from which they came. This gives the Great Sleeper a five-month period to germinate the seed and then get the plant to Dormia. We built the Wanderer's watch in such a way that the date wheel starts ticking backwards as soon as the coat seed erodes. In any case, we're always trying to improve our techniques."

Josephus beamed and clapped Alfonso on the shoulder. "All
this brings us to today's Transcription of the Tale," he said. "I can assure you, we're
very
excited."

Upon their arrival at the library, Alfonso discovered that the front steps of the building were mobbed with librarians pushing one another and angling to get a look at the Great Sleeper. When they saw Alfonso walking toward them—with Hill and Spack trailing behind—the librarians let out a huge cheer and clapped wildly. Alfonso blushed. Walking just in front of him, Josephus beamed and slowed down to allow more time for cheers.

"Notice how they're all awake?" asked Josephus. "Ordinarily, most of these employees are asleep, filing and cataloguing. But I gave them special permission to be awake for your arrival, so that they could enjoy the moment to its fullest!"

Once inside, they walked down a long marble corridor known as the Hall of Great Sleepers. The walls contained a number of oil paintings with ornately carved gold frames. Each painting, explained Josephus, was a portrait of a Great Sleeper from Dormia's past. Beneath each portrait was a plaque that provided a name and historical information. Three in particular caught Alfonso's eye:

One showed a man in a toga who appeared to be Roman. His plaque read: