A Staircase Straight Down to Nothing

It was not, in fact, a hole leading straight down into nothing. 

But it was a very steep, spiraling staircase made of a strange black metal that neither girl had ever seen before. The metal was so dark it nearly disappeared into the surrounding abyss, making each step feel like a leap of faith. Ianthe clutched the accompanying railing so hard her knuckles whitened, which wasn’t too difficult as the girl’s natural pallor was the color of goat’s milk. But even Fairuza, who usually showed no fear of anything, stepped tentatively into the deep.    

They walked for a very long time. The surrounding underground was not just dark; it was nearly silent. The girls didn’t speak, listening instead to the quick thump thump thump of their hearts as adrenaline coursed through their veins. Several times, Fairuza thought to consult the map even though she knew that 1) she couldn’t see it in this dark, and 2) it would show her nothing she hadn’t already seen. The cartographer had apparently only marked the relative location of the underground civilization to the surface world, but had not mapped what lay beneath it.

At least not on the map they possessed.

They had been descending the spiral staircase for almost ten minutes when Ianthe stopped suddenly, gasping. She pointed down, speaking in an excited whisper. “Look,” she breathed. “Light.”

It was true. Somewhere beneath them, down in the murky darkness, the black gave way to a cool, undulating purple light reminiscent of the flickering of flame. At this height, the light wasn’t bright enough to provide any real illumination; it was more like a subtle break in the thick, oppressive dark. Still, it was enough. The appearance of light put a spring in their step, and the girls found their second wind as they quickened their pace, ignoring their aching legs to make fast work of the rest of the trip down.

They alighted in a patch of surprisingly clear, violet light. The ground here was rocky, but not earthy. It took Fairuza only a second to realize what it was. “It’s not ground,” the bigger girl said, her brows lifted in surprise. “It’s the floor. It’s manmade. Or,” She quickly corrected, “a civilization intentionally handcrafted it. Whether they were technically human….” She completed the thought with a shrug.

Fairuza was right. A quick perusal of their surroundings revealed that the girls had landed in the middle of a vast stone courtyard that stretched as far as they could see —which wasn’t especially far, as the meager purple light had a limited reach. Still, what they saw was impressive. The floor was constructed of large, flat slabs of limestone carefully fit together such that not a single weed grew up between the edges. At regular intervals, tall, twisted trees laden with light-bearing fruit were strategically planted, surrounded by knee-high walls of stone. The stone containers were overgrown, with other vine-like plants spilling out over top, lending an overall organic, tumbledown appearance that reminded the girls of an eerie truth: These trees had been planted—maybe even cultivated—by a civilization that had been dead for centuries or more.

And yet the trees remained.

The light fruits were the size of a small human head, with smooth, translucent skin. The light originated from within the fruits, picking up their color from the fruit’s sleek purplish skin. 

“Have you ever seen anything like this this?” Ianthe asked.

Fairuza shook her head. “Never even heard of anything like this,” she admitted. “I’m tempted to climb one of these trees and pick a fruit, just so we can crack it open and see what’s inside. But if it’s poisonous…”

“If you get injured and die down here, leaving me alone, I swear on the sea I will kill you,” Ianthe hissed without even a trace of irony. “Keep your hands to yourself, please. We’re just here to observe and record what we see. Try not to forget that.”

The girls continued their walk quietly, eyes wide as they took in their surroundings. The courtyard had obviously once been lined with an assortment of buildings which were now crumbling ruins. Many of the buildings contained smaller light trees, though not all of these smaller trees still lived. Their desiccated, twisted trunks lay rotting in their stone prisons, any evidence of the light-bearing fruit they once had long gone. Fairuza wondered idly if the local fauna could eat the fruit and what it would taste like. She wished she had anyone to ask.

Eventually, the courtyard became narrow streets that emptied into even narrower alleys. Large, abandoned towers that once housed the city watch lined vacant roads, their gaping, black entrances like open mouths. It was impossible to imagine what might’ve lived here so far underground, so far away from sunlight…

Fairuza stopped and looked up. She hadn’t done so earlier because there had been plenty to see on the ground, but now that she did, she stared in disbelief. She could have so easily missed it, and that would have been a shame. Silently, she elbowed Ianthe in the side. The girl yelped and scowled but followed her friend’s gaze up. Then she, too, gasped.

“Is that…that can’t be the bloody sky,” Ianthe whispered.

“Can’t be,” Fairuza agreed. “We’re deep underground. But what else could it be?”

The girls gazed upward long enough to be sure that what they were staring at, as impossible as it was, was the night sky. A vast expanse of indigo blue firmament provided a still backdrop for the billowing dove-gray clouds that drifted lazily past twinkling pinpoints of light. 

Stars.

And amid the stars and clouds, a silvery orb loomed, providing dull illumination that was no match for the local lavender light of the light trees, but probably was welcome further out, away from the city center. The moon looked different than it did on the surface, but it was, undoubtedly the moon.

Or was it?

Fairuza racked her brain for what she knew about the heavenly bodies. She knew the moon was responsible for the tides, and she understood that one moon cycle equalled one month, but that was about all she could dredge up. It wasn’t much—just what she had learned as a child. Still, she had eyes, and her eyes told her the moon didn’t exactly look right.

“We had a waning crescent moon last night,” Ianthe said at last, face upturned, her white face limned in a delicate purple glow. “That’s a waxing gibbous moon.” Ianthe pointed, though it was impossible to tell what she was indicating exactly. “And you see those dark spots on the left edge? Our moon doesn’t have spots like that. Our moon’s spots are on the top. And they’re shaped differently.”

Fairuza blinked, reconsidering the moon in light of this new information. She couldn’t be sure—she’d never paid that close attention to the night sky—but she felt Ianthe was right. It was a moment before the fullness of Ianthe’s words registered.

“Hold on a second. What do you mean our moon?” Fairuza gawped, eyes wide and round as the moon they were staring at. “You don’t think that’s our moon? You think that’s a different moon?”

“That’s not our moon, not our sky, not our stars,” Ianthe said with a slow shake of her head. “If this were our sky, we would be able to see the constellation Sea Witch just there.” She waved her hand leftward of where the moon sat. “But … well, I don’t recognize those star patterns at all, do you?”

Fairuza didn’t, but then, she wouldn’t. Stars did not interest her. They were pretty, but you couldn’t put them in your pocket, smoke them, eat them, cure wounds with them, or pay your debts with them, so Fairuza had little use for them. She knew that if she ever became a sailor, which was unlikely, she’d have to learn. But for now? 

She pulled a rock from her pocket, rubbing it between her thumb and forefinger. The rough surface felt good against her skin. “Do you think it’s some kind of… illusion magic?”

Ianthe lifted her shoulders in a limp shrug. Magic was not well-known in the Trunks. It existed here and there in pockets, but in their small village, it was mostly relegated to the medicine women and soothsayers. It wasn’t part of everyday life. “I couldn’t say,” the girl said. “Whatever it is, it’s glorious, isn’t it?”

Fairuza made a sound deep in her throat and dropped her gaze. “Let’s keep walking,” she suggested. “I think I see something up ahead.”

Ianthe hesitated, lingering a moment longer over the marvel overhead. But eventually she tore herself away—more for fear of being left behind than anything. Fairuza’s stride was much longer than her own, and moments of lallygagging meant being left alone in the dark. She hurried to catch up with her friend, who was tossing and catching her pebble in an absentminded rhythm.

Ianthe had thought that Fairuza claimed to see something as an excuse to get a move on, knowing that left to her own devices, Ianthe would pore over the strangeness of the new sky for…well, not hours. But long stretches of time, anyway. However, now that she was looking, she did see dark shapes looming in the distance.

As they approached, the structure became apparent: it was an amphitheater. Twenty rows of seating formed a perfect semicircle around a stage sunk deep into the earth. In the center of the stage were two large structures with half a dozen shelves each. They looked like bookcases, only much larger. They were roughly ten feet tall and three feet deep. Each shelf held an assortment of ancient machinery, from fans and springs to rusty cubes that looked like they might once have been engines.

Between the two bookcases was another machine. It looked like it had been constructed from some of the parts collecting dust on the shelves. Two large fans lay face down on the stone slab, connected by a strange metal frame with deep channels running its length. A narrow, flat seat was positioned on top. Jutting from the frame were two slender handlebars.

Ianthe approached the device with quiet reverence, blinking back her surprise. She touched the seat lightly, her fingers trailing over the cool fabric. “It’s a farglider,” she breathed.

“A what?”

Ianthe’s head snapped up, and a veil passed over her eyes as she snatched her hand back. The quiet awe she’d displayed only a moment before evaporated, instantly replaced with mild irritation. “It’s some kind of vehicle,” she said. “Based on the way these fan things on the bottom are oriented, it looks like this thing can fly.”

Fairuza whistled, her brows rising high as she examined the contraption in earnest. “No kidding? Well, what are you standing there for? How do we work this thing?” She dropped onto her haunches and began searching underneath the machine and on every side, trying to understand how it worked.

Ianthe cleared her throat and waited for her friend to stand. She pointed to the seat. “Sit there,” she said. “Keep both your feet on the ground and put your hands on the bars.”

Without argument, Fairuza straddled the machine. It was designed for someone smaller than her—larger than Ianthe, probably, but not quite as big as Fairuza, whose knees came up uncomfortably far when she sat down. When she was steady, she placed both hands on the bars.

The machine began to hum, and deep grooves running the length of the body began to glow with purple light—the same purple light emanating from the lightfruits.

“Whoa.” Fairuza breathed her quiet amazement as her heart thrummed in her chest. “Did you know it was gonna do that? How did you know it was gonna do that?”

The other girl climbed onto the machine behind Fairuza and wrapped her arms around her waist. “All right,” she said. “You’ll find a button beneath your left fingers. Don’t press it yet. Just listen. There’s another button under your right fingers. The left button will make the vehicle move. The right button will make the vehicle stop. If you want to fly up, twist the left bar toward you. To tilt down, twist the left bar away. The right bar doesn’t move, so you don’t have to worry about that. If you want to turn left or right, you’ll turn the bars together in the direction you want to go.”

Fairuza felt the buttons beneath her fingers, but heeded Ianthe’s advice and didn’t press them. They were long and smooth, with gentle indentations her fingers settled easily into. Ergonomically, the bars were quite comfortable. She could do with the seat being a little taller, however. “Ianthe…how do you know all this?”

The young woman squeezed Fairuza’s waist tighter. “Something I read a while ago. I don’t remember. You can’t expect me to remember all the fascinating things I read, Fairuza. I read a lot. You should try it some time. Are you ready?”

“What, to try reading?”

Ianthe pinched her lips, and Fairuza chuckled. “Oh, all right.” She adjusted her hands and feet a little, more from nerves than anything else. She sucked in a breath and nodded. “I’m ready. You?”

Ianthe squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. “Ready! Go gentle!”

Fairuza grinned as she leaned her body forward, gritted her teeth, and squeezed her left hand.

The farglider jolted forward, pitching slightly to the left as both girls screamed—Fairuza with excitement and Ianthe with abject terror. Fairuza threw her weight to the other side as she eased up on the left trigger. When she found the center, she pressed forward again, this time slightly rotating the left handle toward her.

The vehicle rose into the air.

“Krakens below! Ianthe! We’re flying! Do you see that? We’re flying!”

Ianthe did not see. She hadn’t opened her eyes even once since they’d begun moving, but she felt the truth of it. She sensed the air beneath them, the distance between their bodies and the ground. It was terrifying, but also exhilarating. She almost wished she had taken command of the thing instead of letting Fairuza take the helm.

“Woohoo! Ianthe, this is incredible! Can you believe this? How fast can this thing go?”

“Do not try to find out!” Ianthe commanded, clutching Fairuza tighter. 

They weren’t moving anywhere near top speed, and yet the vehicle already flew faster than either girl expected. A few times, Fairuza lost balance, and the machine careened in a wild direction or tilted off pitch. She cursed each time as Ianthe screamed, and Fairuza grunted to herself that it would be easier if she didn’t have Ianthe clinging to her for dear life. She over-corrected her first few attempts to right the machine, once nearly throwing Ianthe out of her seat and a second time almost crashing into the dirt. But it didn’t take long for Fairuza to learn that small adjustments were a pilot’s friend, and before long, the girls were cruising gleefully. Ianthe even opened her eyes.

The machine made a pleasant humming sound as it sped past dried riverbeds, lopsided cairns, narrow valleys, and the remains of buildings whose purposes were long lost to time. The girls buzzed only a few feet off the ground, but still, they were flying.  Fairuza could scarcely believe it.

Carefully, she turned the left handle toward her, gently guiding the farglider higher into the air. Only a few feet at first, but as her confidence grew, so did her daring. She pitched the flying contraption higher and higher and quickly discovered that the higher she flew, the easier it was to maneuver. Close to the ground, she had to watch out for rocks and trees and buildings. But if she soared higher in the sky, she bypassed everything. She was like a bird. She was like the wind! She was like—

Something huge and dark swept out of the sky and smashed into the girls, knocking the vehicle out of the sky. Ianthe screamed as they whirled through the air, horribly out of control, the farglider spinning from the unseen force. Fairuza blacked out instantly from the blow, her torso slumped uselessly over the handlebars. Both girls and flying machine tumbled toward the earth, falling inevitably toward certain death, though only one girl was awake to pray for mercy to whatever gods listened. Or, failing mercy, at least a quick and painless death. Ianthe squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the end.

The crash came hard and fast. Ianthe’s body slammed into the ground, her bones and teeth rattling with the impact. The collision knocked the wind from her lungs, and she opened her eyes to see that she was rolling down the side of a hill. Gravity made a rag doll of her body as she tumbled, twisted and rolled in the dirt, spindly limbs knocking against rocks and roots as she fell.

She rolled down the full length of the hillside, mute and terrified. And when she finally reached the bottom in one piece, she could have cried with joy…

…If she hadn’t rolled through a thinly patched hole in the earth and crashed into a narrow hole six feet deep, where she smacked her head against a large rock and passed out.