He carried with him two sharp wooden stakes to protect himself, and the key from Mead's head. He also had a bag hanging from his side, which he touched nervously. It was filled with clumps of dry bread, for there were dangerous creatures in Mead's Hollow. They would leave him to his errand as long as he gave them something to eat.

Lord Phineus held the small flame out into the darkness, searching for the first of the small torches that he would light to guide his way. The walls before him were utterly covered with dead vines of brown and black ivy. They looked like the dried bones of some wild beast that would not let him pa.s.s. He shivered once more and began his journey beneath the House of Power. After a few steps, he heard a familiar low growl and put his hand in the bag of bread.

Sir Emerik had indeed been standing at the door, quietly listening for the sounds he had heard before. He knew of the power of Mead's head and of the pa.s.sage known as Mead's Hollow, but he had never known the pleasure of opening the pa.s.sage. He wasn't even sure until that moment where the key lay hidden, but now he felt certain that it was within the head itself, for he had heard the sounds of moving stone. Sir Emerik smiled grimly, thinking only of how he could do away with Lord Phineus, take control of the water, and rule all of Atherton.

CHAPTER.

33.

INVERSION.

The grey of early evening was gone and only a dull smolder of light remained. It was approaching deep night on Atherton, and three figures were making their way across the silent world. The sound of quaking ground and grinding earth had vanished. There were no waterfalls roaring in the distance. The Cleaners were hidden quietly away in the jagged rocks. All of Atherton was hushed as a whisper.

Edgar was used to making his way without much light, but the eerie silence made the world seem haunted in a way he'd never experienced at night before. It felt to Edgar like Atherton was dead.

"Will it always stay so quiet?" asked Edgar nervously. "I don't like it."

"It's very odd," said Vincent, who was walking in front of Edgar and Dr. Kincaid, leading the way.

"I don't mind the silence," said Dr. Kincaid. "It's far better than the sound of Cleaners filling the air."

It had been a long way across the Flatlands, but they were nearing the edge of Tabletop at last. They went on a little more without speaking a word.

"Dr. Kincaid?"

"Yes, Edgar."

"Thank you for bringing me with you."

There had been some arguing between Vincent and Dr. Kincaid about whether they should leave the boy behind in the safety of the flat. They wouldn't tell Edgar where they were going, only that they would keep him safe.

"You've been on your own for a long time," said Dr. Kincaid. "Best you make these decisions for yourself."

"Why won't you tell me where we're going?"

Dr. Kincaid didn't answer right away, but he had been wondering how much to tell the boy for a while and thought he could tell him a little more.

"There's not a lot of time, Edgar. A few days, maybe a week, and our chance will be lost."

"You mean the Cleaners?" Edgar imagined them overrunning the grove and the village.

"Not exactly," said Dr. Kincaid, trying to pacify the boy's imagination. "Our course is set, Edgar, but our destination must remain a mystery to you awhile longer. For now you must focus on the present."

Edgar had grown used to adventure, and the old man's words appeased him, though he remained concerned about the days ahead. Dr. Kincaid tried to change the subject.

"You should call me by a more friendly name, don't you think? 'Dr. Kincaid' is so formal."

"What shall I call you?"

Dr. Kincaid pondered the idea a moment, rubbing his big earlobe between his thumb and knuckle.

"My full name is Luther Mead Kincaid. 'Mead' is rather odd, don't you think? I don't know what my mother was thinking. Why don't you call me Luther?"

"I'll try," said Edgar, but he knew it would be difficult.

Vincent motioned for the two of them to stop talking and be still. Hardly breathing, they heard a soft clanging sound. Vincent waved them to one side and guided them slowly through the waning light. As they continued on, the sound went away, and Vincent turned to his companions.

"A den of Cleaners," he said. "Bedded down for the night. We are likely to find at least a few moving about in small groups, but most of them won't come out until they can see again."

"How many Cleaners are there?" asked Edgar, hoping for a small enough number that Vincent could kill them all.

"More than there are people on Atherton," said Vincent. "When light comes, they'll crowd the edge, if there is an edge."

The idea of thousands of Cleaners coming out in the morning light to find no edge to stop them from advancing was more than Edgar could dare to imagine.

"I must go straight to the grove," said Edgar. He'd been concerned all along for Isabel and the others in the village, but being so near had reinvigorated his determination to find his friends.

"We will make a point of going through there," said Dr. Kincaid, feeling the gloom that surrounded the boy.

They walked on in silence for a long time, until the sound of the sleeping Cleaners was too far away to be heard, and the three of them were all alone in the Flatlands. The farther they went, the more he couldn't believe Vincent had carried him all that way on the night he'd fallen.

"Are we coming near the edge of Tabletop?" asked Dr. Kincaid, his feet beginning to hurt from the long walk. The words were just out of his mouth when the sound of breaking bones came from somewhere in front of them and very near.

"Get back!" cried Vincent. He'd been using the b.u.t.t end of a spear as a walking stick, but now it was turned with the pointed end straight out to protect them.

"There are two! Stay back!" Vincent yelled again.

Without thinking, Edgar took his sling from his pocket and two black figs from his bag. He held one in his hand and put the other in the sling, stepped out of the way, and began swinging the sling over his head. Dr. Kincaid didn't know what Edgar was doing.

"Edgar! What is that you've got there?"

But Edgar was deep in concentration and didn't respond.

Vincent thrust his spear over and over at one of the two Cleaners as it charged and swung its head viciously. Its tail thrashed wildly, pulling a dozen of the Cleaner's back feet off the ground. Vincent finally found a good position and stabbed it through the open mouth, but when he did, the Cleaner clamped down on the spear with its jagged teeth and wouldn't let go. It lay dying on the ground, the spear stuck deep in its middle, but the spear had been lost.

The second Cleaner charged for Vincent as he tried to pull a second weapon from where it was stored on his back. It was then that Dr. Kincaid heard the snap! of the sling as Edgar hurled the black fig through the air.

The black fig slammed into the Cleaner's head, and the creature reeled back in pain and surprise. Edgar loaded the second black fig and began swinging it over his head.

"Wait until he comes for us," said Vincent. Whatever the boy was doing would not kill a Cleaner, but it did appear to inflict some damage.

Edgar waited until the Cleaner began to charge toward the sound of Vincent's voice. Then he released the fig with a snap! and the weapon flew through the air, crashing into the Cleaner's face and cracking off a jagged tooth.

The Cleaner stopped cold and snapped its teeth in shock. Vincent was able to move in close and thrust his spear into the mouth of the stunned beast. It was one of the easier kills he could remember accomplishing in his many years of hunting in the Flatlands.

Dr. Kincaid crept up and put an arm around each of his companions.

"Well done!"

Vincent grinned at Edgar, shaking his head. "It looks as though I may have found a hunting partner."

Dr. Kincaid was pleased. "We may make our destination yet!"

"Luther," said Edgar. The name felt strange, and he was quite sure it would be the last time he used it. "Where are we going?"

"On a miraculous journey," said Dr. Kincaid. "And I'm glad to have you and Vincent to protect me."

Vincent cut away a chunk of one of the Cleaners and handed it to Edgar. He did the same for Dr. Kincaid, then himself. The fresh Cleaner was sopping with slimy green goo that bubbled and squished around Edgar's teeth as he ate.

"Let me ask you again, Vincent," said Dr. Kincaid. "Are we nearing the cliff or are we not? You've traveled this way many times, but I can't quite get my bearing."

Vincent had a large bite of Cleaner in his mouth, and Edgar could see that he'd gotten a good deal of slime on his face. It glistened like black water in the fading light.

"I'm afraid we have already pa.s.sed into Tabletop," said Vincent. He wiped one side of his face against his shoulder. "The cliffs are no more."

Edgar looked back into the Flatlands and realized the Cleaners he'd been fighting were lying dead in Tabletop. It was a stunning revelation. It had been one thing to imagine the Flatlands and Tabletop as one, but the reality felt like a blow to the head, leaving him dizzy with thoughts of the transforming world he lived in.

He looked toward the grove and couldn't see it, though he could imagine exactly where it would be somewhere off in the distance. A moment had come in Atherton when there were no more cliffs to be climbed, and Edgar said the only words that came to his mind.

"The world is flat."

Dr. Kincaid gazed off into the darkened horizon, astounded by the changes before him.

"Indeed it is."

Vincent seemed the least moved of the three, for he was completely unable to put anything in front of his obligation to protect Dr. Kincaid and Edgar on their journey. He had known the time would come when the cliffs would vanish and thought only of how complicated the work would be of shielding his two companions from harm.

"We're barely on the other side," said Dr. Kincaid. He had moved off a few steps and was kneeling down. "Here. This is where the cliff used to be. I can hardly believe it's gone."

His two companions knelt down with him and examined the place where a great wall of stone had once been.

"This one is not so perfect as the last," said Dr. Kincaid. "It is as I suspected."

"What do you mean?" asked Edgar.

"What I know of the Highlands' descent leads me to believe that it will have come down without leaving gaps of any significance. Look there." Dr. Kincaid walked along the vein of rubble, pointing as he went. Edgar followed the line of his finger out into the depths of night and thought he saw the ground turn darker still.

"That darkness you see is a crevice, a place where the two lands met without matching. There will be great chasms such as these all the way around the seam," said Dr. Kincaid. "Some will be the size of your foot, others big enough to fall into. A great many of them will be deep and inescapable."

"I wonder if we could dispose of the Cleaners in some of the large breaks," said Edgar. "Maybe we could find a way to push them in or herd them."

Vincent looked down the line, wondering how deep and wide some of the gaps might be.

"Time will tell," said Dr. Kincaid. He looked off toward the Highlands and grimaced as he thought of the long journey ahead, cursing his old feet for their unwillingness to go along without complaint.

"We will do well to keep moving," said Vincent. "The grove is still a good distance, and we must be clear of it by morning."

It came to the blackest part of night, and the three figures made their way across Tabletop. It was a peaceful trek of quiet thinking for the three of them, each alone in his own thoughts of what the morning would bring.

Vincent prepared his mind for a great many battles to come in which his skills would be desperately needed. Dr. Kincaid thought of the place they were going and the complicated challenges awaiting them there. Edgar wondered where Samuel and Isabel were and if he would ever find them. He wondered if he would ever climb again. He thought of the grove and the villages, the Highlands and Lord Phineus, the vast army of Cleaners that would invade his home and rip the trees from the ground.

And yet Edgar was not afraid of the morning and what it would bring. He was no longer a lonely orphan who slept under trees in a fig grove. He had dared to visit every realm of Atherton, and what was more, he'd made friends wherever he'd gone. The sun would rise on a world of grand and perilous adventures at every turn, companions by his side, fighting a good fight to save things that mattered.

What more could a boy hope for?

While Edgar and his companions traveled across Tabletop, something began to happen that no one had expected. Not even Dr. Kincaid knew of its coming, for this was a secret known only to Dr. Harding. The first two people to notice it were Samuel and Isabel, who were hidden in the tall gra.s.s of the former Highlands, preparing to sneak into the House of Power.

"Did you feel that?" asked Isabel.

"What?"

Isabel put her hand flat on the ground, but there was nothing.

"I thought I felt something. It was different than before. Closer."

"I didn't feel it," said Samuel. "We should go now. It's the darkest hour."

But Isabel felt compelled to go somewhere else first.

"Come with me a moment, will you? There's something I must be sure of."

She ran out of the tall gra.s.s, and Samuel followed until they came to the place where the Highlands had merged with Tabletop. In the darkness, Isabel came upon something hard against her knees and fell forward on her hands. She stood up, rubbing her shins and feeling confused.

"You're suddenly a lot taller than me," said Samuel, his voice shaking and unsteady.

There was a haunting noise in the air, barely discernible but constant. It was a familiar sound-too familiar.

The two stood facing one another-Samuel in the Highlands and Isabel in Tabletop-and they found that Isabel was ever so slowly growing taller.

The Highlands had begun to sink into the middle of Atherton.