As it so happened, Keon didn’t rest much that night. Avana had forged a multi-layered mat of parchment that served as an unusually soft mattress. Everyone slept on similar mats, their gently heaving bodies wrapped in their shawls like spring rolls.
Keon sat on the edge of his mat awaiting the rising sun. The night was beautifully cool, like the height of summer; the temperature perfectly balanced by a gentle breeze.
Had Dad ever sat up to watch a similar sunrise? When had he first come to Underland anyway? Was it as a kid? Did he crawl underneath his bed every night when he was a boy? What if he met another woman here and had a whole other family they didn’t even know about? Was that possible?
No. As complicated as his feelings were for his dad, he wasn’t like that. If he was anything, he was faithful. Faithful to his friends. Faithful to his colleagues. His peers. It was this faithfulness that made the biting bitterness of his absence that much more agonising. He’d been faithful to the end. All the more reason for why Keon had to bring him back.
“Can’t sleep?”
Zahara took the spot next to him, hugging her knees close to her face.
“How could you tell?”
“You’re awake, genius.”
He chuckled.
“Think I’m tryna make sure,” he said, staring at his boots, “was kinda hoping I was dreaming.”
“Listen, about before…” she said, her voice muffled by her knees squeezing against her cheek.
“Nah it’s cool. I was being a bit of a wasteman.”
“Just a bit?” she said, raising her head. He smiled as she elbowed him gently in the ribs. “So…your dad.” He tensed at the mention of his dad, retreating back into his shell. “At least it wasn’t Gabriel Reed, right?”
“Might as well’ve been,” he scoffed.
“How do you mean?”
“We had a fight—me and my dad—about the fight. It was pretty bad,” his chest heaved as though filling his lungs for one last breath. “They said I might’ve broken his nose…”
She grinned, nodding a ‘not bad.’
“Nah, it’s not good. It puts me on the radar in a bad way. My parents are afraid I’ll end up in a PRU or something and ‘waste my potential.’”
“Well, it depends,” she shrugged, “what do you wanna do with your life?”
“You mean, other than being a librarian?” they chuckled, “I like to travel and I like being around different people. So, maybe something where I get to do both. Like, building sustainable housing overseas or something.”
“Or—you could be a travel vlogger.”
“Or that,” he said, wagging his index finger. “You’re right…What about you?”
It was Zahara’s turn to tense up; rubbing her shins as she stretched them out.
“Uh…honestly, I don’t know…But I like the sound of what you wanna do.”
“You like to travel?”
“I’d like to get away,” she said quickly, realising she may have said too much.Keon frowned.
“Is that why you’re here, Zahara? To get away?”
She scanned his eyes, as if searching for a lifeboat in a storm. Blinking back her thoughts, she tore her gaze away.
“I’m here ‘cause the King saved me,” she said.
“From what?”
Before she could answer, a heavy hand landed on Keon’s shoulder, making him start. It was Shem. When had he gotten up?
“Time to go, kids.”
The first gold tendrils of daylight were peaking out over the horizon like amber spires, sending narrow fingers of shadow creeping across the treetops.
Zahara gave Keon a weak smile.
“Better go pack.”
He could only watch the moment slip like sand through his fingers. He nodded, stood up and dusted himself off.
“How far are we going anyway?”
Shem cocked his head to one side, calculating internally as he adjusted his bracers.
“To the Eastern Monument? About two thousand, two ‘undred and forty miles, give or take.”
“Two thousand—two hundred and forty miles?! Are we walking?”
Shem chuckled, “You see any horses, mate?”
He couldn’t remember walking more than ten miles in his entire life, and that was for their trip to Swanage three years ago. How on earth was he supposed to manage two thousand miles on foot? That was like—sixty miles of walking a day (if that); for thirty days! Thirty days of walking!
Blinking back to reality, his gaze panned around the camp.
“Wait, where’s Wellworn?”
“He’ll have gone on ahead to scout the next campsite,” said Shem.
“I didn’t even see him leave…”
“You wouldn’t. Not unless he wanted you to.”
* * *
It took another fifteen minutes for the Millionth and Fifth to pack up camp and assemble. The Lowlands were still bathed in orange and gold as daylight continued to creep over the horizon. The paper mattresses disintegrated once they had no further use for them. Apparently, the fragments would sprout new trees. Keon didn’t get how, but any-who. All they had left to do was throw their shawls across their shoulders.
“Who’s taking point?” said Zahara.
Dawit inched forward, raising a hand, “That would be me.”
“I thought Shem was field leader?” asked Keon.
“It’s whoever Wellworn appoints for the mission. Everyone gets a shot—even you, mate,” he said, slapping him on the back. “When you’re ready.”Keon was not ready, and his face said it all.
Dawit straightened his back, puffing out his already wide chest. Clearly, he slouched because he was a good few inches taller than Keon had thought.
“Well, we should get going. We’ll walk until about midday, then break to forage. If you have any petitions, you should probably save them ‘til then.”
* * *
The Millionth and Fifth moved at a brisk pace, cutting the descent to about half the time it took Keon the previous night. He wished he’d had more time to take in the sights he hadn’t really stopped to appreciate the day before. The woodlands that stretched for miles like a bobbly green carpet. Hills as wide and as tall as mountains. The humungous dragon blood trees that brushed the edges of the sky beneath the glistening upside-down ocean.
He wondered how all this vegetation got water, given that the clouds were upside down (never-mind thousands of feet in the air). Their flat bases faced up whilst their cotton crowns pointed down towards him. A war to split a world in two and turn it upside down. What was he thinking?
He did a double take as he caught sight of something strange rising over the horizon, obscured by wisps of cloud. He wasn’t entirely sure, but it looked like a landmass peeking out of the heavenly ocean, hovering just above the glow of rising daylight.
“Is that what I think it is?” he gasped.
Shem came to a stop beside him, “Depends. What do you think it is?”
“An island?!”
Shem’s head bobbed in a confident nod.
“That’s mad!” he leapt onto a section of rock jutting out from the edge of the cliff, knowing full well it wouldn’t get him any closer. “That has to be at least thirty-two thousand feet high. That’s crazy!”
“Welcome to Underland, mate.”
Keon glanced over his shoulder.
“What’s it doing up there?”
Dawit turned aside to join them.
“That’s Zaphon. The source of all light in Underland.”
He was right. Blooming heck, he was right. He hadn’t noticed it before, but then you didn’t exactly stop to look right at the sun on any given day. Bad for your eyes and all that. Sunlight emanated from something at the islands peak, illuminating the whole of Underland.
“Daylight comes from the island?”
“From a city on the island. The Empyrean.”
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