It was a ridiculous explanation; Jim knew it. But Big Willie didn’t argue at all. “Sure enough, I think you’re right. Those boys always were careless.” He looked to the others. “Make sure you’re stepping carefully, and don’t get any funny ideas about turning around and heading back. We go on.”
Halla gave Big Willie a smile Jim felt was quite friendly. “I can see why you are the leader. Shall we?” She nodded her head toward the trail.
“Lead on, little lady,” Big Willie said with a grin.
Halla moved her horse up to the front. The spare horse’s reins were hooked loosely over the pommel of her saddle. This effectively prevented anyone from riding next to her, so Jim and Big Willie were side by side. Jim looked back to check—Hefé and Shooter were riding together and Lee was bringing up the rear, and not looking happy about it. Jim couldn’t blame him.
* * *
They rode on for another hour with nothing much happening, other than that they continued to go up. The glowing moss lines on the rocks kept on getting more plentiful, and Jim was now prepared to swear they were a language of some kind. The noises hadn’t stopped—in fact, Jim had added chittering and what sounded like snapping beaks to the eerie laughter, scratching claws, and metallic clanging of horse hooves. No one else seemed to be hearing anything out of the ordinary, though. Or if they were, they weren’t saying anything about it, just like Jim.
As they went, Jim started hearing what sounded like rushing water. He didn’t want to mention it, but Hefé spoke up. “
Patron
, do you hear the river?”
“I hear something,” Big Willie acknowledged. Jim was relieved the others heard this noise, though he still didn’t want to mention the other sounds he’d been hearing. But the rushing water was drowning them out for a bit, and he welcomed the respite.
“No river,” Halla said as trail rounded a corner and they were faced with a waterfall. Its top was a good fifty feet above them, and as Jim looked down, he couldn’t see an end to where the water fell. “How in the hell is there a waterfall here?” he asked, noting his voice didn’t sound exactly calm.
“And how the hell do we get past it?” Shooter added as he moved up closer to those in the front. “The trail ends here.”
Halla shook her head. “Another illusion. Just follow me.” With that she clucked to her horse and the one she was leading, and they plodded forward. The horses seemed unconcerned again. Somehow, the beasts’ calm made Jim more nervous.
Halla hooked her reins over the pommel of the saddle, swung her arms over her head in a circular motion, and then left them straight out at shoulder length. As she did so, the waters parted and they could all see that the trail continued.
“Onward, boys,” Big Willie ordered. “Don’t want to lose our little lady.” He kicked at his horse and trotted after Halla. Jim did the same, as Shooter moved up next to him. Jim glanced over his shoulder to see that Lee and Hefé were right behind them, riding side by side.
They all passed through. Jim steeled himself for someone to disappear, but no one did. As soon as Lee and Hefé were through the water fell back down, looking just like a normal waterfall again. Jim saw the other men all relax a bit, just as he did. Big Willie, though, hadn’t looked spooked at all—he seemed almost cheerful.
It looked lighter where they were now, but Jim realized it was because there was so much more of the glowing moss here. It covered every surface now, the straight, crisscrossing lines screaming at him in a language he didn’t understand. There was nowhere he could look where he couldn’t see the moss, other than down at his saddle. But he didn’t want to betray the fear, so he looked ahead and tried to pretend everything was normal.
The trail started to wind even more, going counter-clockwise around what Jim thought might be a smaller mountain within the larger range. As they circled, he looked down and could see the waterfall, seeming much further away than it should be for the slope of the trail, the size of the rock they were circling, and the time spent.
They made seven turnings in total; Jim used the waterfall as his marker. Then the trail leveled off and they came to a double-doorway of stone, at least twice Big Willie’s height and able to let four horses walk through side by side. No moss grew on it, but Jim could make out carvings that looked as though they were written in what he now thought of as the moss language. There were also drawings, high up near the top of the door. He couldn’t make out what they were, but the overall impression made his stomach churn.
“This another illusion?” Big Willie asked Halla, as he moved his horse up next to hers. The rest of them fanned out behind them, with Jim on the far right.
“No, this is a real door.” She slipped off her horse and put her palms flat against each of the doors. She stood there like this, head bowed a bit, silently waiting for something.
Nothing much seemed to happen. Jim was watching her when he heard what sounded like a whirring of wings, as if a whole hornet’s nest were behind him. He quickly looked around, but he couldn’t see anything. Halla was still standing as she had been, and everyone else was watching her. No one else seemed to have heard the buzzing.
Jim was about to ask what Halla was doing, if only to break the silence, when he heard the buzzing again, this time sounding louder and like the whole place was filled with hornets.
He turned to Shooter, to ask him if he heard anything, but the tall man was gone. His horse was still standing next to Jim’s, but there was no man sitting on its back.
Jim bit back a scream. “Shooter? Why’d you get off your horse?” he called out instead. His voice sounded high and squeaky; he barely recognized it.
No reply came back.
Jim looked to see if Hefé or Lee were still on their horses. They were looking around now, as he was. Hefé caught Jim’s eye and shook his head. “No sign of him.”
Before they could say anything else, the doors opened. Jim couldn’t see anything, even though he was trying to. There was just inky blackness in front of them.
Halla made a clucking sound, and the riderless horses, including Shooter’s, all walked forward. She gathered up their reins and led them in.
“Let’s go, boys,” Big Willie said, not acknowledging that anything had happened or that Shooter was now among the missing.
The rest of them moved up next to Big Willie, putting Jim into the place Shooter had been only a minute earlier. The four of them rode toward the doorway. Jim flashed back to when he was young and the revival preacher who had passed through their little town had spoken about Armageddon and the four horsemen of the apocalypse. He wanted to believe they were like that, the bringers of destruction. They certainly had been before. But now Jim didn’t feel powerful or dangerous—he felt terrified beyond belief.
Halla disappeared as she and the horses passed through the doorway. Then the rest of them crossed through. For a few long moments it was darker than anything Jim had ever experienced or imagined. Then he could tell they were fully across the threshold, down to the last bit of the horses’ tails, and suddenly he could see clearly.
They were in a huge, circular cavern. The walls went up further than he could see, but Jim could just make out the full moon above them, centered directly within the only opening to the night sky. Jim wanted to fly to the moon, to get back to something, anything, that seemed real.
But since he knew that was impossible, he forced himself to look around more carefully. There was a gaping hole in the middle of this room, and he could see reddish-golden light within it. Halla was over to his right, next to the wall. She seemed to be tying the horses off, and Jim realized there was food and water for them.
Big Willie headed over to where she was and the rest of them followed. They all dismounted, tied their horses off as Halla had done, and then she fed and watered their horses, too.
“Now we go on foot,” she said calmly. “The horses cannot manage the steps.”
As she said this, Jim looked back toward the hole in the middle of the room and could just spot the start of what looked like a circular stairway cut into the sides of the glowing hole.
“We’re going down that?” he asked, his voice squeaking again.
“Of course we are,” Big Willie said angrily. “What, you think we came all this way to stay up here? We have to meet Halla’s father.”
Jim wanted to suggest leaving, but he looked at Big Willie’s eyes. They looked strange—opened wider than normal, the pupils so large he couldn’t have said what color Big Willie’s eyes were if he hadn’t already known.
Hefé and Lee exchanged worried looks with Jim, but the three of them didn’t argue. They all just moved closer to Big Willie.
“Follow,” Halla said, as she turned and walked quickly to the edge of the hole. She stepped down and kept on moving, so fast they had to hurry to catch up and keep up with her. Big Willie went first, then Jim, Lee, and Hefé. Lee had only just managed to jump in front of Hefé, and Jim was sure the Mexican wasn’t happy to be bringing up the rear. Jim made sure to stay close to Big Willie.
As they went down Jim tried to look to see where they were headed. But the stairs were steep and not too wide, and there was nothing to hold on to. The few times he looked down toward where he was sure the light was coming from he lost his balance immediately, and each time, if Lee hadn’t grabbed him, he would have gone down. So he stopped trying to look anywhere but right to the front.
However, he could see the walls as they wound their way downward, and though they were smooth, Jim saw the same lines here as he’d seen on the way in. These weren’t glowing, though. They were blood red and either painted or carved into the rock. He couldn’t bring himself to touch them to find out for sure.
“How much longer?” Big Willie asked Halla after they had walked for what Jim estimated to be at least a half an hour.
“It’s still a ways from here,” she replied calmly. “Don’t worry. My father will welcome you with open arms.”
They kept on moving downwards, it seemed for hours. But every time Jim or one of the others asked, Halla replied they had only been traveling a short time and they would need to go on a bit longer.
The writing on the walls was so dense Jim couldn’t tell where one mark stopped and another started. But he still knew in his gut it was real writing, and while part of him wanted to know what was being said, most of him was glad he had no idea.
Jim was tired, thirsty and so scared there was just a dull ache all through his body now. He wondered if he’d have the energy to run if he had to, and found himself doubting it. Just when he thought he’d have to ask to stop and rest they came to a landing.
Jim risked a look up and wasn’t too surprised when he couldn’t see anything but stairs and darkness above them. Though the hole continued on down, there were no more stairs, just another set of large double-doors. They’d reached whatever the next point in their journey was.
It was hot here, much hotter than it should have been, even for the territory and time of year. It smelled familiar, though—just as Halla’s town had after they’d finished with it. Burning wood combined with sweat and blood and the stench of fear all humans gave off when they were faced with something horrible. But there was one scent added in. It took Jim a few moments to place it—sulfur.
He risked a look into the hole, but all he could see was the same reddish-golden light. If he squinted he could just make out what looked almost like waves of something molten. He pulled his gaze away and back to the door, where Halla was standing as she had at the doors before, hands against them flat, head bowed.
As he did so, he heard a new sound. It was also familiar and normal—women crying. The other men didn’t seem to notice, though. At least, Big Willie and Lee didn’t, since they were both standing right behind Halla and watching her. Jim looked around for Hefé, but the Mexican was nowhere in sight. Jim looked up the stairs, but no one was on them. He moved back to the hole and looked in again. He saw what he thought might have been a man, traveling downward, wrapped up in what could have been thick, glowing rope. Or something worse.
Jim leapt away from the edge and moved right next to Big Willie. “Hefé’s gone,” he said as quietly as he could. But he still couldn’t stop his voice from shaking.
“He’ll be back,” Big Willie said with a shrug, never taking his eyes off Halla.
“I think he fell down the hole,” Jim said, not adding that he figured if this was true, Hefé had had help losing his balance.
“Then he was clumsy and should not be mourned,” Halla said, not looking around. “My father only wants the best.”
“And he’ll get that with us,” Big Willie said heartily.
Jim couldn’t stop himself. “What does he want us for?”
The doors began to open inward and Halla turned now and looked right at him. Her eyes were glowing, and Jim was sure it was from inside, not a reflection of the other light. “To ensure our kind continues.” She gestured with her hand. “Please, enter.”
* * *
The room should have been visible, but all Jim could see when the doors fully opened was murky darkness. Not as black as what they’d been through before, more like dense, black fog or smoke. It seemed to be moving, but with purpose, as if it were something tangible, and possibly alive. The light from the landing didn’t penetrate it.
Jim couldn’t move, couldn’t force himself forward or manage to turn and flee. He just stood there. Halla was still standing outside of the room. Jim thought she looked amused, and he knew she must be aware of how terrified he was by the way she smirked at him.
Big Willie took a step forward and seemed to realize the others weren’t with him. He looked around and shook his head with disgust. “What’s wrong with you two?” He grabbed Jim and Lee, who also hadn’t moved, and dragged them with him.
They moved into the darkness, and Jim felt it moving around and over him. He was sure it was a real thing now, not his imagination. The doors slammed shut behind them, but Big Willie still had Jim’s arm held tight in his hand, so Jim had no way to run. Not that he had any idea of where to run to.