Will didn't have the chance to question Cal any further because suddenly Bartleby's ears pricked up and his unblinking eyes fixed on the doorway. Although neither of the boys had heard anything, Cal became agitated.
'Come on, quick, check the map, Will.'
They left the chamber, cautiously picking their way through the ancient streets. It gave Will an opportunity to inspect the buildings at close range. Everywhere around them the stone was decorated with carvings and inscriptions. And he saw the decay; the masonry was crumbling and fractured. It cried out with abandonment and neglect. Yet the buildings still sat proudly in all their magnificence — they had an aura of immense power to them. Power, and something else — an ancient and decadent menace. Will was relieved that the city's inhabitants weren't still in residence.
As they jogged down lanes of ancient stone, their boots scattered the murky water on the ground and churned up the algae, leaving faintly glowing blotches in their wake like luminous stepping stones. Bartleby was agitated by the water and pranced through it with the precision of a performing pony, trying not to splash himself.
Crossing a narrow stone bridge, Will stopped briefly and looked over the eroded marble balustrade at the slow-moving river below. Slick and greasy, it snaked lazily through the city, crossed here and there with other small bridges, its waters lapping turgidly against the massive sections of masonry that formed its banks. On these, classical statues stood watch like water sentinels; old men with wavy hair and impossibly long beards, and women in flowing gowns, held out shells and orbs — or just the broken stumps of their arms — toward the water, as if offering up sacrifices to gods that no longer existed.
They came to a large square surrounded by towering buildings but held back from entering it, taking refuge behind a low parapet.
'What is that?' Will whispered. In the middle of the square was a raised platform supported by an array of thick columns. On top of the platform were human forms: chalky statues in twisted postures of frozen agony, some with their features obliterated and others with limbs missing. Rusting chains wound around the contorted figures and the posts next to them. It looked like a sculpture of some long-forgotten atrocity.
'The Prisoners' Platform. That's where they were punished.'
'Gruesome statues,' Will said, unable to take his eyes off it.
'They're not statues, they're real people. Tam said the bodies have been calcified.'
'No!' Will said, staring even more intently at the figures and wishing he had time to document the scene.
Will looked at him inquiringly.
'Get down,' Cal whispered. Ducking behind the parapet, he cupped his hand over the cat's eyes and clasped the animal even more tightly.
As he followed suit, Will caught sight of them. At the far end of the square, as silent as ghosts, four figures appeared to float on the surface of the waterlogged ground. They wore breathing masks over their mouths, and goggles with large, circular eyepieces, making them appear like nightmarish man-insects. Will could tell from their outlines that they were Styx. They wore leather skullcaps and long coats. Not the lustrous black ones Will had seen in the Colony; these were matte, and camouflaged with streaky green and gray blocks of dark and light hues.
With easy military efficiency, they were advancing in a line, as one controlled an immense dog straining on a leash. Vapor was blowing from the muzzle of the inconceivably large and ferocious animal — it was unlike any dog Will had ever seen before.
The boys cowered behind the parapet, acutely aware that they had nowhere to run if the Styx came their way. The hoarse panting and snorting of the dog was growing louder — Will and Cal looked at each other, both thinking that at any moment the Styx would appear from around the edge of the parapet. They angled their heads, straining to catch the least sound of the Styx approaching, but there was only the hushed gurgle of running water and the unbroken patter of cavern rain.
Will's and Cal's eyes met. All the signs were that the Styx had gone, but what should they do?
Cal shook his head violently, his eyes flaring with alarm behind the half-fogged glass; they pleaded with Will to stay put. But Will ignored him and raised his head a fraction over the parapet. The Styx had vanished. He gave the thumbs-up, and Cal rose slowly to see for himself. Satisfied the patrol had moved on, Cal let go of Bartleby and he sprang away, shaking himself down and then glowering resentfully at both of them.
They skirted cautiously around the side of the square and chose a lane in the opposite direction from the one they assumed the Styx had taken. Will was feeling increasingly tired, and it was getting harder for him to catch his breath. His lungs were rattling like an asthmatic's, and a dull ache gripped his chest and rib cage. He summoned up all his energy, and they darted from shadow to shadow until the buildings ran out and the cavern wall was in front of them. They ran alongside it for several minutes until they came to a huge stone staircase cut into the rock.
'That was too close by half,' Will panted, glancing behind them.
'You can say that again,' Cal agreed, then peered at the staircase. 'Is this the one?'
'I think so.' Will shrugged. At that point, he didn’t much care; he just wanted to put as much distance between them and the Styx as possible.
The base of the stairs was badly damaged by a massive pillar that had crashed down and shattered it, and at first the boys were forced to clamber up several broken sections. Once they had reached the steps, it wasn't much better; they were slick with black weed, and the boys nearly lost their footing more than once.
They climbed higher and higher up the stairway and, forgetting for the moment how ill he felt, Will stopped to take in the view from above. Through the haze, he caught sight of a building topped with a huge dome.
'That's the spitting image of St. Paul 's Cathedral in London,' he puffed, getting his breath back as he peered at the magnificent domed roof in the distance. 'I'd love to have a closer look,' he added.
'You've got to be kidding,' Cal replied sharply.
As they continued, the stairs eventually disappeared into a jagged arch in the rock wall. Will turned for a last glance at the emerald strangeness of the Eternal City, but as he did so he slipped from the edge of the step, tottering forward onto the one below. For a heartbeat he faced the sheer drop in front of him and cried out, thinking he was about to plunge down it. He clutched frantically at the black tendrils covering the wall. Handful after handful broke off, then he finally managed to get a grip and steady himself again.
'Hey, are you all right?' Cal said, now at his side. When Will didn't answer him, he became increasingly concerned. 'What's the matter?'
'I… I just feel so dizzy,' Will admitted in a wheezing voice. He was panting in small, shallow breaths — it was as if he were breathing through a clogged straw. He climbed a few steps but came to a standstill again as he broke out into a racking cough. He thought the coughing fit was never going to stop. Doubled over, Will hacked away and then spat. He clutched his forehead, soaked with rain and clammy with an unhealthily cold sweat, and knew there was no way he could hide it from his brother any longer.
'I need to rest,' he said hoarsely, using Cal for support as the coughing subsided.
'Not now,' Cal said urgently, 'and not here,' Grabbing Will's arm, he helped him through the archway and into the gloomy stairway beyond.
31
There is a point at which the body is spent, when the muscles and sinews have nothing left to give, when all that remains is a person's mettle, his sheer single-mindedness.
Will had reached that point. His body felt drained and worthless, but still he slogged on, driven by the responsibility he felt toward his brother and his duty to get him to safety. At the same time, gnawing away at him was the unbearable guilt that he'd let Chester down, let him fall into the Colonists' hands for a second time.
