Chapter 17

"I believe I have gathered conclusive evidence as to the function of the various artifacts known as keystones. In fact, it can be safely proven by virtue of experimentation that these are in fact devices of a highly evolved civilization from an ancient past that perished long ago, leaving in its wake nothing but seemingly nondescript memorabilia as the remains of a monumental metropolis located in the Widelands. I can honestly say that such an unprecedented work as I am engaged in currently, will prove to have earth-shattering effects and verily change our world forever."

- Curator Cimon Olom, A treatise on the nature and function of the keystones

Amonas had been watching Hilderich for what seemed to be the better part of an hour now. He had shocked Amonas with what he believed they were looking at in the sky, but Amonas had seen it himself when he knew what to look for. They were indeed standing on another world, and not on their own. Because the suns were not simply wrong; there was only one sun. Hilderich had noticed the lack of a second ring around the sun, and the regularity of ths sun's shape and size, unlike their own two suns that seemed to come together and slightly draw themselves apart again every once in a while.

That was something Hilderich had come up with while intently studying the surface they were standing on, as well as the bases of the horns themselves. Amonas now saw him as he kept clutching the keystone, scratching it with a finger at times. He seemed to be quite absorbed in thought. Amonas had felt he could not contribute at this time, and did not bother Hilderich with questions or other small talk. He saw no way out of their situation and certainly no way to 'ride the flames' as Hilderich had put it with enthusiasm.

As Amonas replayed in his mind what Hilderich had tried to explain to him, the idea seemed extravagantly far-fetched; more like a Curator's wild fantasy than anything that seemed to hold any ties with the realm of reality.

Hilderich insisted that the keystone was what would enable them to realize 'the plan'. The plan was to signal the flaming sphere, bullet, missile or 'train', whatever one might call it, to stop and pick them up. Amonas thought that first and foremost, it was preposterous to consider that thing that rushed over their heads could be tamed, indeed made to stop. It sounded as if a man would command a falling star to cushion its fall, to peacefully glide to a stop so he could touch it. Accordingly, the idea that one could actually even board such a thing defied any kind of logic Amonas could summon. Hilderich was either totally insane or on the brink of an ingenious discovery that could dwarf everything Amonas had ever known, including the things that had been revealed to him when he had stepped into the damnable pillar of light in the first place.

He truly hoped the latter case would hold true. In the meantime, while Hilderich seemed to be muttering to himself, pacing about the flat, matte black floor of the summit, Amonas' thoughts turned to Celia. Had she given birth to their child? Were they safe? Had the uprising began?

He was afraid he would not be able to keep his promises to Celia. It all rested with Hilderich. It was a liberating emotion, in a sense, to have someone else hold the keys to your future. Someone else to blame; someone else's success or failure was in essence, what would gain him a trip back home or a slow, harrowing death filled with guilt, remorse and memories that would haunt him for whatever life would remain in him. But was everything really hanging on Hilderich's efforts? Was there nothing he could do or think of? Had he given up on them already?

This damnable place afforded him no real rest; it toyed with his fears, his doubts, and his ignorance. He threw a fist to the black floor which remained unyielding, unmarred and unbroken. The pain that swept up from his hand jogged him back into his more usual mindset.

Even if he didn't have the slightest idea about this place and the flaming sphere, Hilderich seemed to have at least some estimation; something to follow through, something that, however improbable, might work. If it failed they'd find something else, move on and think of a different idea. Perhaps study the bullhorns in depth, find out their purpose. The land could support them, so they would keep on trying to get home.

They would endure. All they had to do was endure and there would be a way. 'There must be a way, ' his mind echoed with that thought. He'd do his best to help Hilderich, even if that meant he'd have to trust him with his life. They'd get back, that's all that really mattered. He would get back home to Celia, and their child. He promised to himself he'd get back even if he'd have to limp back.

The clutches of reality were inescapable though and he snapped back to it when the sweat running down his forehead had turned into a small, steady trickle. The heat even under the shadows was uncomfortable. They did not have much in the way of water left, only a couple of the hard-skinned fruit.

He was wary of leaving Hilderich alone while he went back down to collect some more of the fruit, perhaps locate some source of running water as well. The fruit were watery enough, but their sweet taste would soon feel sickly if they kept consuming them all the time. He'd have to breach the subject sooner or later, but he decided to give Hilderich some more time with his musings first.

They did not know when the next flaming sphere would appear and that only served to increase Amonas' uneasiness. He believed it would be much more accommodating if they went down to the base of the bullhorns where they could find shelter from the sun. He also thought that they could forage while going around the base of the bull-horned structure, which Hilderich was now calling a 'horned pyramid'.

Amonas thought that his was a much more sound, safe, and logical plan. Hilderich had argued against it, saying that there should be enough time between passes for them to figure out how to use the flaming vehicle, and they should not wander away when they could be so close to escaping this place. Amonas had resisted the idea in more depth by pointing out that even if that were so, they had not heard or seen the passing of such a thing ever since they arrived here, which would imply that whatever that thing was, it did not make frequent overpasses.

Hilderich counter-argued that, as was the case with wagons and carriages, arrivals and departures did not have to be evenly spaced and sometimes schedules changed without notice, because of necessity. Amonas had left it at that but they at least agreed to go down once their water supply had run out to rest and re-supply; at the same time they could search around the base of the horned pyramids for a possible way in.

Hilderich seemed to be lost in an inner circle of conjectures and theories that did not seem to produce any tangible practical benefits. At times he would stop and ask if Amonas had noticed anything new about the structure, especially the floor and the horns; Amonas would quietly and calmly insist that if anything to that effect did happen, he would surely notify him immediately. Hilderich would then nod and go back to his series of calculations.

He had already paced around the edges of the floor and had even walked over the shadows of the horns, seemingly measuring their length for reasons Amonas could not even hope to infer. It seemed like charlatanism; a madman in the wilderness trying to make sense of something bewilderingly distant like the suns or the stars, the color of the sky, and so on. But he would have to be patient and see for himself where it would lead.

They'd soon have to go down to the base of the pyramid for water mostly, Amonas thought, believing Hilderich should be feeling dry as sand, definitely having developed a sunburn by that time as well.

The keystone in Hilderich's hand felt more like a sigil or a charm to him, something he had to connect himself with. He kept touching it, running his fingers around it, but he had yet to use it as the device he had said he believed it to be. It was a greenish stone that gave off blue, near turquoise reflections. It seemed to have a certain depth, and a curious reflective quality about it.

It could be a raw gem, or something similar. Perhaps a glass, Amonas couldn't have been sure of its nature, and he certainly knew he was no expert. It was just that it had a very strange appearance, one that could not be easily compared to the usual cuts of stone or gem. Amonas thought that if nothing else at all, the keystone was a very rare thing indeed.

Rare enough for someone to keep collecting them, and rare enough to seal Olom's fate. He'd certainly miss him. Celia had never known, perhaps it was for the best. Now that he's really gone beyond ... Amonas felt it was a bit unfair on her. He felt guilty for not telling her the truth about her father, but it was a promise he would never break, and so had not. Perhaps in time, he could find it in his heart to tell her. On second thought he felt he was obligated to do so, actually. Just as soon as they got back, at a time that seemed to him quite indeterminable at that point.

With his thoughts on the matter concluded, Amonas decided he had stayed quiet for long enough and asked Hilderich who was standing near one far end of the summit, peering downwards over the edge:

"Any progress?"

Hilderich did not turn around, did not even stir or notion somehow. It seemed he was rather absorbed in thought. Amonas disliked shouting in principle, so he sighed and walked over to Hilderich. He noticed the man was standing at the lip of the summit, a step before falling over to the steps below. His arms were in front of him with the keystone in one hand, fingers opening and closing in quick succession. It looked as if he was counting something. Amonas cleared his throat audibly, as a way to attract Hilderich's attention and perhaps guard him from a surprise that could set him off balance in a most precarious fashion.

Hilderich paused in his counting momentarily and looked distracted for a moment, hastily checking his left and right with a small motion of his head; he then resumed counting, fingers on both hands moving like he was playing the harp. Amonas closed his eyes in a show of mild exasperation, and said in his usual husky voice:

"Hilderich. I'm right here behind you. Hilderich..."

Hilderich paused and turned about slowly with a frown of surprise on his face. As he did so, he instinctively made a backwards motion with his head, tipping his upper torso slightly aft. That was enough to jerk him off his feet, throwing him towards the slope of steps he was surveying. His one arm flailed wildly in a vain effort to steady himself while clutching the keystone hard and stretching out his free hand as a desperate last ditch attempt to reach Amonas who was no more than two steps away.

Amonas reacted instinctively with cat-like speed and lunged forward making a single step and bending his body slightly towards the ground in a kneeling motion that brought his center of mass lower; he stretched out both of his hands, one reaching for Hilderich's free arm and one for the shirt about his waist.

A still moment passed when Hilderich seemed doomed to fall and tumble down like a rag doll to a most certain grievous injury or even death with Amonas failing to do anything other than watch, his grasp failing by a hair's breadth. His mind was faster than his body so the terrible thought had time enough to coalesce with feelings of guilt and failure, curses and a repetitive voice that seemed to echo from afar; it was a simple form of denial, yet so piercing that it lanced right through his head, even before he could think he had uttered it:

"No!"

Amonas stood there kneeling, his body tense, almost rigid. He was transfixed, wide-eyed and out of breath, his last one cut suddenly short. He gasped for air, and only then did he realize he was holding onto Hilderich's shirt and palm. Not very tightly though, but he could feel some of Hilderich's body weight pulling at him. He came to his senses and pulled back, edging Hilderich closer. He grabbed tighter with one hand and pulled harder, bringing Hilderich right back on his feet, safely on the summit's surface.

Hilderich looked surprised, the frown on his face even narrower than before. He had certainly began to show signs of sunburn. 'Perhaps he was stricken from the sun and the light, and got dizzy all of a sudden when I called out to him, ' Amonas thought.

Hilderich was looking about the floor, his hands going through his pockets. Something seemed amiss to Amonas. Hilderich cried out suddenly:

"The keystone! It must have fell off! I need to go get it! The keystone!"

Amonas took him by his arms and spoke to him calmly and steadily with a hint of assurance in his voice:

"We are going to get the keystone. We were running out of water anyway. Perhaps you were out on the sun for too long. Don't worry, no one's going to steal it from you. There's only us around here. I'm sure it's somewhere down there."

"What if it's broken? What if it's damaged, chipped, marred? What if it broke? What if I broke it?"

"Control yourself! I'm sure it will be fine, it's a mere inconvenience, that's all! Now please! Calm yourself."

Amonas was forcing Hilderich to look him in the eyes in order to convey to him a sense of safety, security and calm. It was as if Hilderich was going through the shock of battle. Was the keystone so vital to him? To their survival? Was the keystone that sensitive, prone to damage? Had their chance to return home tumbled down into oblivion by the slip of a foot? 'Everything in its own time, ' Amonas thought as he cast these worrisome thoughts aside if only for a while.

Hilderich turned around to look at the steps below searching for the keystone, this time with a healthier distance from the summit's precipice. He put a hand up to offer his eyes some shade, but still he squinted as he tried to make out such a small thing from such a distance. He was obviously disgruntled with what had happened, and after searching in vain some more, he turned around to Amonas and told him:

"We have to go down now, Amonas. It could be coming any time now, the keystone is crucial. Please, I'll explain to you on the way down. I think I know how it works. Please, we need to go find it now."

"Alright, alright, don't fret so much about it. We were going down anyhow."

Amonas jogged briskly to pick up his sack that was lying under the shadow of a horn and as he came back to Hilderich, he produced one of their last two 'brown ones' from the sack. He chopped of one end and gave it to Hilderich, then got out the last and did the same. They both drank greedily and as they went about the lip ready to start their descend, Amonas told Hilderich:

"Remember, once we find the keystone, we continue down to the base. We need water, and you'll feel it yourself in a pretty bad way before long. The suns here are scorching hot, we'll need shadow, water and sleep once we get down. Then we search around the base. Like we agreed. Is that alright Hilderich?"

Hilderich was hesitant, almost reticent to answer but at length he must have thought about it in a more sensible way; he nodded and started climbing down carefully but briskly. Hilderich was making good speed having noticed that going down was much easier because one could easily slide across the surface of the steps with his bottom and then dangle his feet before making a little jump onto the step below, and so on. It might have even been a fun, merry activity, especially if they were children and if the sun wasn't trying to boil them alive. Amonas found out Hilderich's unorthodox way of descending the steps to be quite efficient and fast, so he copied it and they were both making good progress, rapidly going down the steps. At each step Hilderich would peer left and right quickly but certain enough that not a glimmer of the keystone had caught his eye. Amonas had advised him to stop talking and breath through his nose; he could tell him all about what he had come up with when they got down. It was supposedly a good way to conserve one's water, but Hilderich at one point couldn't resist to tell Amonas:

"If we miss it on the way down, we're walking from corner to corner of the pyramid each step up the way."

"I doubt we can do that with no shadow to protect us from the heat. We were exhausted when we climbed up the shadowy face. We'd be sunburnt to death if we tried to walk every inch of this side."

"No keystone, no ride Amonas. We'll have to if we don't find it."

Amonas did not reply and instead carried on climbing down placing himself in the lead. At length, while Amonas had already climbed down half the steps, Hilderich cried out:

"There! Over there! I've found it!"

Amonas stopped to look as Hilderich ran across the step towards the keystone. He knelt down and seemed to examine it closely from every side, look for signs of damage or any chipping he might hope to collect. Instead he found a perfectly shaped keystone, and what appeared to be a small dent on the steps.

It appeared quite strange to him that the keystone could actually do that, if the stone was indeed the cause for the dent. It perplexed him at a time when he thought he had most things figured out. It didn't seem that important, but it was too strange to completely disregard under the circumstances. He let the thought go for the moment and when he stood upright again he was smiling, waving his hand with the keystone tightly gripped in it, crying out to Amonas:

"It is fine! Impeccable as ever! Not a scratch!"

"Glad to hear it. Now come, let's make haste."

Amonas was indeed glad to hear such news but he was not sharing Hilderich's enthusiasm. He had yet to understand the importance of the stone. The only thing that stood to reason and supported some of Hilderich's claims was that someone, most probably the Castigator's people, had been collecting keystones in every way. It had even cost Olom his life, and perhaps other lives had been lost in a similar manner as well. Perhaps, the keystones were parts of an ancient technology that had yet to be made to work again. Perhaps not all keystones were as important, and some were quite different, unique. Perhaps they were all unique in some unfathomable way. He couldn't know, and he couldn't imagine what it was that Hilderich had come up with. It would all remain a mystery until they could get back. He reminded himself that first and foremost, he had to get back. 'And right now, ' he thought, 'I have to keep myself from drying out'. They continued their descent with a bit more speed, now that Hilderich had secured the keystone.

The sun had taken its toll on them; they were sweating profusely, their bodies glimmering with perspiration. By now, they had both been sun-burnt, their skins bordering the color of the flesh underneath it. Hilderich seemed to be in a much sorrier state than Amonas, his every movement by now painfully evident on his face. Each thrust of pain from his limbs made him flinch in reflex and aggravate his pain, the skin of his face wrinkled and coarse.

Amonas came to his side and tried to help him a bit, lending some of his strength for Hilderich to go down the stairs. At first he seemed glad to be offered some relief, but then he cried in pain and nodded imperceptibly to Amonas to leave him be. Before he resumed his painful descent, he told him:

"It hurts, everywhere you might touch me, it hurts. I have to do this alone. I ache all over. Even speaking hurts."

Amonas nodded his acknowledgement and looked sympathetic, understanding. He replied kindly:

"Alright, Hilderich. You can see the trees now, can't you? We're not that far off, just a few more dozens of steps. And then..."

Amonas was cut in mid-sentence when Hilderich collapsed from what must have been a deadly mixture of heat exhaustion, dehydration, and searing pain. He lunged forward head over heels, his hands gnawing at the air for an instant as if trying to catch some invisible ropes, and then they fell limp together with the rest of his body. Amonas did not have time to react like before and this time Hilderich went tumbling down the steps in a state of unconsciousness with no control over his fall. He fell badly on the first step with his chest thudding on impact, and then his body swivelled slightly to one side before he rolled down two, maybe three steps until he came to a stop, his limbs sprawled at nearly impossible angles. Amonas feared the worst and came rushing down the steps as fast as he could without challenging a similar fate. The way Hilderich had fallen, Amonas thought he might have broken almost every bone in his body. He hoped his head was as intact as it seemed and that he would be able to move him. When he got there, Hilderich was not communicating. He tried crying out to him, but he could not rouse him. He was definitely unconscious, probably the reason why he had collapsed.

He did not know which bones on Hilderich's body were broken but nothing seemed to jut out gruesomely, meaning that if something was broken it was not visibly so. He tried to feel Hilderich's arms and legs as well as his ribs, but he was not an expert man of medicine and he could not make any serious assessment. He believed his arms and legs were fine, but some of his ribs felt funny and might be broken. He would be in pain when he woke up, but he could still probably walk, Amonas thought. Under the circumstances, he felt he should be counting Hilderich's blessings.

With strenuous effort he managed to lift Hilderich's waist on his right shoulder, his body laid out so as to least burden his probably broken ribs. Amonas' movements became difficult and strained; Hilderich's limp body seemingly protested at every move with his feet and legs getting in the way, uncomfortably sliding along the steps.

Amonas felt very close to collapsing himself under the strain and the heat but he pushed on heedlessly nevertheless, trying to make it to the tree-line which was only a few dozen feet away. He was going down the last steps when Hilderich started coming around, moaning deeply from the numbing pain. He managed to croak a whisper while wheezing, the trouble with his breathing more than evident:

"What ... happened..."

Amonas shushed him and answered with strain in his voice, its gruff tone exaggeratedly harsh. He sounded literally dried out:

"You fainted and fell down the steps. You've broken some ribs. Don't talk."

Hilderich was silent again. Amonas thought he might have fainted again, but that was not his principle care. They had to make it to the tree-line and the little shadow it offered.

He was walking over the canal-like indentation on the ground, nothing but tall grass around him. Amonas was dragging his feet with admirable effort and determination. His face was contorted from the pain of his aching muscles and the extra weight they had had to carry for these last few minutes. 'A little while longer, ' Amonas kept thinking to himself, 'a little while longer into the shadow, and I can rest'. He closed his eyes and kept on walking with the same pace, Hilderich slung over his shoulder like game; Amonas was gritting his teeth, his breaths coming in short and hard gasps.

When at last he reached the relative shadow of the trees he could still feel the heat, but the scorching rays of the sun were gone as if kept at bay by the forest. With one last bit of effort, he knelt down to the ground and offloaded Hilderich as carefully as he could. Hilderich came to for a moment, moaned deeply and grimaced with pain, and then he was out cold again. His breathing was shallow, as if his body knew anything more would hurt him like stabs of red hot iron in his lungs. Amonas then braced Hilderich from under his armpits with both arms trying not to cause him any more pain, and dragged him over to the large trunk of a tree propping him up against it so he could breathe without fear of drowning in his own blood. He felt he could do nothing more for Hilderich for the time being, so he crawled a bit farther away under the shadow of a tree with a bark as wide as the wall of a mountain cabin. He closed his eyes and just slept without dreaming a single thing.

He opened his eyes to the sight of the green canopy: a labyrinth of shades of green, large and small branches criss-crossing it like a net cast out onto a sea of leaves. His mouth was parched and he felt his head heavy; a headache was pounding on his mind like a hammer on an anvil. He was thirsty, he needed water. Hilderich was still unconscious just laying where Amonas had left him, his breathing laborious; it was a raspy, unhealthy sound. He needed a doctor. They needed to get back to civilization, back home, more than ever. Amonas judged Hilderich was in no shape to walk around the base of the pyramid. Their most immediate need was water though.

He stood up with a lot of effort. He felt disoriented, his senses failing him; his vision was slightly blurry and unfocused. He misjudged the location and distance of things around him. The dehydration must have been more severe than he had felt, and the heat was only making things worse. He slowly paced himself through an opening in the vegetation, a path that offered less thick greenery and easier terrain. He was looking for the usual tree with the brown nut-fruit, the one with all the watery juice inside, but couldn't see any. The trees looked a bit different, as if this was another part of the forest: they were not as thick, with more space in between them. Fewer but larger trees, wider openings and more space overhead. It looked almost like a vast hall, supported on wooden pillars of green and brown hues.

But no fruit. Or something else familiar to eat and most importantly, no water. He could still make out the clearing in front of the base of the pyramid where Hilderich lay. He had not gotten very far though he already felt tired, worn out. The dehydration was severe now. He paused and sat by the exposed root of a tree. He thought it was too dangerous to venture farther away from the pyramid and Hilderich. He was looking up: a vast net-like congregation of saplings extended from one tree to the other, like ropes meant to build a bridge. They could be carrying water or some juice but he could not reach them: they were too high up. He'd need to try and climb up a tree like a mad cat and he was certainly in no condition to do so.

He then turned to the thick root he was sitting up against. It looked healthy and vital, not gnarled like most that he had seen so far. A young root, a young tree. There should be some water flowing through it, he thought. He brought out his knife and tried to put a stab to the root, deep enough to go through its skin to the veins of the tree. Hopefully some water would pour out, at least enough for him to drink now and make him able to go on.

He stabbed as hard as he could and then worked his knife inside, twisting and bending it as if trying to cut out the tree's heart. At length, pieces of the root came out with a strong, pungent smell and something like oil glistened on the knife's blade. Amonas ran a finger on it and sampled it, the taste woody and bitter. It felt indeed more like oil rather than water.

With some more effort and his head now feeling like a ministry bell tolling incessantly, he dug deeper into the root trying to get past its meaty part into its core, where water coursed. He dug with his knife and his hands, feeling the oil giving way to moist, soft wood matter. Another jab of his blade and he saw a trickle coursing down, dripping on the ground.

With sudden greed, he put his mouth on the wound he had inflicted on the root and sucked like a newborn child does from its mother's tit: it was water after all. He wet his lips and his mouth thoroughly, letting the cool liquid refresh his mouth and then spitting it out. He then let the trickle fill the two flasks he was carrying drop by drop, waiting patiently.

All the while he sat more comfortably leaning against the trunk of the tree, almost as if he were ready to take a nap. He swallowed small portions of the water in his mouth, savoring it. He had been dehydrated before, and knew it was a lot worse if a man that had been denied of water for too long just dived straight in a lake or drank to his heart's content. He had seen men die of it, for reasons he could not know. He thought it was a sick way of nature to make men pay for their greed as well as their lack of respect.

His mind did not wander or drift as it had done so in the days before. Necessity and his instincts drove him. He took in things as they were, his mind enjoying a numbness while both it and his body recuperated slowly, the effects of dehydration slowly withering away and vigor reappearing in his face with his head throbbing gently instead of being about to explode.

Once the flasks were filled to the brim, he had drank a couple more mouthfuls. He was feeling markedly better, and he believed he could find a similar root if he wandered some more; with no way to carry more water though, it would be in vain. So he decided to get back to Hilderich and tend to him: he would rouse him and offer him some badly needed water.