threw up at the smell of cooking spider meat. My hands were shaky with adrenaline and pain from my injured foot, and my head was spinning with questions.
What was the thing doing down here—waiting for me? Attercops were supposed to be easy opponents because they were
predictable
. Hit the web and the attercop comes running—always. They don’t wait in the shadows to get the jump on their victims because they aren’t that smart.
Yet this one was. It had waited until I got close enough, dangling from my climbing rope and nearly defenseless. Even then it paused to strike at the last possible moment, as if it was afraid to act too hastily, as if it wanted to stay down in the dark, as if it was guarding something.…
For the first time I took a moment to really observe my surroundings here at the bottom of the crevasse. The light cast by the burning attercop was already beginning to fade, but I could see, all around me, flickering reflections. Dirt and rock walls, no tunnels or visible exits except for the way I came down, and the floor beneath—smooth as a mirror. The floor was rock along the sides, but gradually the rough stone gave way to volcanic glass, deep black and flawless except for a single line cut into a six-foot circle in the middle of the floor. And in the middle of the circle was a handle.
It was a door—a door that had been cut into the floor. A door that led straight down.
I felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the attercop. Here was a real mystery.
“Hey, Bernard! Get down here. There’s something you’ve got to see!”
Peering up at the opening, I could see Bernard’s silhouette clearly enough—he was still peering over the ledge—but I got no answer. Merlin was uncharacteristically quiet, too.
“Bernard?”
This time he moved. I could see him shuffling around at the top of the hole, though why he was still silent was anyone’s guess.Perhaps he was so thrown by my fight with the attercop that he was too shaken to speak.
“C’mon, Bernard. There was only one of these beasties and I’ve taken care of him. If you bring down the treats, we can make a roast of it!”
Still, Bernard said nothing. Instead, my calls were answered by a new sound—the crack and rumble of rock sliding.
I had a sudden, terrible image of the mayfly. Once activated, the little bomb would tear through the dirt, rock, whatever it found. In his panic, had Bernard let the mayfly loose, only to leave me here to die? Or was he really betraying me? The tunnel mouth above my head was collapsing, unearthing tons of rock that would close this portal forever—and bury me in the process. My mind wasn’t working right. I couldn’t accept that my friend and partner would abandon me now. I called, I begged and I cursed. I tried climbing, but more and more earth was falling down, blinding me, choking me.
All that was left for me was the strange door.
Some doors are meant to stay shut
. Even then, Bernard’s warning hung in my mind. But I’d opened many doors before, followed paths no one had followed. That is what Explorers do—that is our calling, our purpose.
And if I didn’t open this one, I’d die.
And so, my mind made up, as the roar of the mayfly above me built to its explosive peak, I grabbed the handle of the black door with both hands and pulled.
But it occurs to me now that I’ve started a bit late in my story. So many things that come to pass depend on what came before, but I guess that’s the way with stories. Still, I should think youwould be confused, being dropped into the action like this without so much as an introduction. So before we go any further, I should take a breath, collect my thoughts and put the important stuff in order in my head. Next time, perhaps, I’ll back up and start at the beginning.
Here’s hoping I have time to finish the tale.
CHAPTER ONE
J EZEBEL
N EW Y ORK C ITY , T ODAY
At first glance, the Percy Luxury was a sleek apartment building full of marble floors and
What was the thing doing down here—waiting for me? Attercops were supposed to be easy opponents because they were
predictable
. Hit the web and the attercop comes running—always. They don’t wait in the shadows to get the jump on their victims because they aren’t that smart.
Yet this one was. It had waited until I got close enough, dangling from my climbing rope and nearly defenseless. Even then it paused to strike at the last possible moment, as if it was afraid to act too hastily, as if it wanted to stay down in the dark, as if it was guarding something.…
For the first time I took a moment to really observe my surroundings here at the bottom of the crevasse. The light cast by the burning attercop was already beginning to fade, but I could see, all around me, flickering reflections. Dirt and rock walls, no tunnels or visible exits except for the way I came down, and the floor beneath—smooth as a mirror. The floor was rock along the sides, but gradually the rough stone gave way to volcanic glass, deep black and flawless except for a single line cut into a six-foot circle in the middle of the floor. And in the middle of the circle was a handle.
It was a door—a door that had been cut into the floor. A door that led straight down.
I felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the attercop. Here was a real mystery.
“Hey, Bernard! Get down here. There’s something you’ve got to see!”
Peering up at the opening, I could see Bernard’s silhouette clearly enough—he was still peering over the ledge—but I got no answer. Merlin was uncharacteristically quiet, too.
“Bernard?”
This time he moved. I could see him shuffling around at the top of the hole, though why he was still silent was anyone’s guess.Perhaps he was so thrown by my fight with the attercop that he was too shaken to speak.
“C’mon, Bernard. There was only one of these beasties and I’ve taken care of him. If you bring down the treats, we can make a roast of it!”
Still, Bernard said nothing. Instead, my calls were answered by a new sound—the crack and rumble of rock sliding.
I had a sudden, terrible image of the mayfly. Once activated, the little bomb would tear through the dirt, rock, whatever it found. In his panic, had Bernard let the mayfly loose, only to leave me here to die? Or was he really betraying me? The tunnel mouth above my head was collapsing, unearthing tons of rock that would close this portal forever—and bury me in the process. My mind wasn’t working right. I couldn’t accept that my friend and partner would abandon me now. I called, I begged and I cursed. I tried climbing, but more and more earth was falling down, blinding me, choking me.
All that was left for me was the strange door.
Some doors are meant to stay shut
. Even then, Bernard’s warning hung in my mind. But I’d opened many doors before, followed paths no one had followed. That is what Explorers do—that is our calling, our purpose.
And if I didn’t open this one, I’d die.
And so, my mind made up, as the roar of the mayfly above me built to its explosive peak, I grabbed the handle of the black door with both hands and pulled.
But it occurs to me now that I’ve started a bit late in my story. So many things that come to pass depend on what came before, but I guess that’s the way with stories. Still, I should think youwould be confused, being dropped into the action like this without so much as an introduction. So before we go any further, I should take a breath, collect my thoughts and put the important stuff in order in my head. Next time, perhaps, I’ll back up and start at the beginning.
Here’s hoping I have time to finish the tale.
CHAPTER ONE
J EZEBEL
N EW Y ORK C ITY , T ODAY
At first glance, the Percy Luxury was a sleek apartment building full of marble floors and
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