Hammer 16: Watch

The match sputtered and died.

In the darkness, the rhythmic click of claws on rock approached, then stopped close by. A spark of light expanded to a dome of brilliant white flame. As Corvan’s eyes adjusted to the harsh light, he saw it came from the end of a long stick the lizard carried. The creature cocked his head to one side, frowned and pointed a claw past Corvan.

Turning around, Corvan spotted the hammer lying between the ribs of a human skeleton, as if it were a mishappen black heart. The skull seemed to be looking directly at it in wide-eyed disbelief. Was the rock actually some sort of burial ground? There were a few of those in the area. No, that made no sense for this one had a sliding door activated by the stone hammer that his grandfather . . . Had the door closed on the hammer and trapped his grandfather under the rock? Is that why he had not returned home as expected?

Gingerly, Corvan plucked the hammer from amid the bones and rotting garments. A piece of mildewed cloth pulled away to reveal the letters IPC embroidered in red thread. He knew that logo. IPC was the bankrupt mine with deep bore problems in his grandfather’s newspaper clipping. But his grandfather had never worked at that mine, only for the Red Creek Mine. This had to be someone else but how had they come to be trapped here?

A shiver ran up his spine. It must have been terrible to die so close to being free. All this person had to do was reach up and touch the hammer and the door at the same time and they would have escaped. Why had the laid down to die instead? Maybe they were injured and couldn’t move?

“How long has it been here?” Corvan asked in a shaky voice.

The lizard tilted its head to study the skeleton, as if seeing it for the first time. “A long while. It was a time from when I have been guarding the door.”

Corvan slipped the hammer back into the holster and fastened the snap. “How long have you been guarding the door?”

“Before you were born.” The light waved about the small space. “I have lost count. It has been a long assignment, and a tedious one.”

Corvan glanced back at the skeleton. It sounded like this person had died long before his grandfather had gone missing, but how would an IPC miner ever get all the way over to the Castle Rock? Could the tunnels the lizard talked about lower down actually connect to some of the mines and caves in the river valley? He and Kate had explored a short way into a few of the larger caves, but this was a long way from those entries.

“What was your assignment?” Corvan asked.

“I am a Watcher.”

“What are you watching for?”

The lizard’s eyes darted about. “For those who might try to enter our world … or leave it. I am to report anything I see back to him.”

“Who’s him?” Corvan asked.

“No more askings,” the lizard snapped, but then immediately it bowed to the ground. “I am sorry, sir, but my service to the black band is a painful memory.” He paused. “I would prefer not to speak of it anymore. Please, come now, we must prepare to make our way through the labyrinth.” The lizard turned around and moved off into a low passage, barely high enough for its own head.

Corvan crawled after it over the rough floor, dragging the packsack behind him. It snagged a few times, and he tugged it free. “Are all the caves this small?”

“No. They are usually large enough for your kind to stand upright, even the ones that are more normal in tallness, but sometimes the passages between them are smaller. You should fit through without problems.”

Corvan sighed to himself. Even in the lizard’s world he was an anomaly, a condensed version of a real human being.

The passage slanted steeply down, and Corvan took to sliding after the lizard. If his sense of direction was correct, they were descending below the western slope of the Castle Rock. Soon the tunnel became less steep, turned back on itself, then opened up enough for Corvan to stand upright. Now they must beneath the Castle Rock and underground. With this much solid granite down below the field, it was no wonder their soil was so poor and rocky.

The light from the lizard’s stick bobbed away. Loose stones rolled under Corvan’s feet, and he stumbled, cracking his shoulder against the craggy wall. “Hey, slow down, I can’t see where I’m going.”

The light stopped and came back. “Sorry, sir. After all the times running through here in the dark, I forget there are stones in the way. Please, take my fire stick. I do not need it but be careful not to touch the light. It will burn through anything, even the rocks.” He thrust the stick at Corvan and moved on. Corvan held the strange torch with its gooey looking light out in front of him, hoping it would not drip and set his shoes on fire.

The tunnel descended rapidly for a few hundred yards, then branched in two directions. A clear trail cut to the left, but a single set of running shoe prints went right, the prints that were likely made by the scarecrow’s shoes.

“It is no use to look for the Kate now,” the lizard said from behind him. “The first shifting of the labyrinth openings has already occurred, and she is in the next room. We have some time before we can follow her. Come with me, and I will show you a place where you can rest.”

Corvan followed the lizard down a short corridor and into a small room.

“You can cover the fire stick, sir.” The lizard gestured to the torch. “There is enough light here when your eyes adjust. Just carefully put that cover back on top.”

Corvan examined the stick he held. A small black cap hung from a silver thong just below the glowing end. He held his hand over the fire. It was not as hot as he expected.

“Do not touch it, sir. If it gets on your skin, it will burn through to the other side.”

Corvan recalled dripped burning plastic on his arm when melting one of his green army men. It had burned deep into his flesh before it cooled and solidified. This sounded infinitely more painful. He carefully slipped the cap over the flame, and the light went out.

As his eyes adjusted, he discovered the cave was bathed in a blue glow from overhead.

“Not enough light for you, sir? Just a moment.” The lizard ran onto a low shelf and pushed a claw toward the light, which in turn became stronger and more pinkish in hue. “I heard that the lumiens would not grow so far from their source, but I kept tending them and they have survived.”

All across the ceiling of the cave, long, silky threads hung in clusters around knobby globes that were the source of the mysterious light. Near his head was the largest, about the size of a small pumpkin. Corvan gently brushed the soft tentacles that hung around it, and the bulb dimmed to a deep blue. The color fanned out like ripples in a pool to other smaller bulbs scattered about the room. Corvan detected an electric smell, as if lightning had struck close by.

The lizard grinned. “Touch it again.”

Corvan reached up, and waves of light spread from bulb to bulb becoming brighter until they were all the color and intensity of the brightest full moon.

“Careful, sir. Mine are not as strong as those in the Cor.” The lizard raised a claw, and the globes dimmed back to a soft blue. “They can expend themselves and never recover. We are not permitted to let that happen.” He pointed above Corvan’s head. “That is my best one. Not near as splendid as the huge ones in the Cor, but a beautiful specimen nonetheless.”

Corvan inspected the large bulb and discovered it was hanging from a metal holder that arched out from the cavern wall. The fixture ended in a metal ring, just like the one in his room but instead of an electrical cord leading to the light, a gnarled stem was wrapped around the ring and along the metal holder until it spread its roots onto the rock wall.

“Are they plants?” Corvan asked.

“Yes, like your vegetables, but much better tasting. Here, try one of these.” The lizard plucked a small globe the size of a plum from a patch that hung lower on the wall. “Quick, eat the flesh while it is still blue; that is the nicest flavor, I think.”

Corvan nibbled on the strange fruit. It was sweet—like a peach but tangier. The texture was smooth, and warmth flowed down his throat and into his stomach. He popped the rest into his mouth.

“Careful, sir.” The lizard quickly approached him, concern on its face. “Do not bite the seed. You must never do that. It is not permitted to consume the life of a lumien. That is a primary law of the Cor.”

Corvan worked his tongue around the hard pit of the fruit. There was a tiny buzz of electric current as his tongue touched the pointy end of the seed, like touching when he would touch his tongue against the terminals of a nine-volt battery to see if there was any power left in it. The tingle in his tongue spread through his head. It was much more pleasant than the shock from a battery.

“You need to touch the pointed end to the ceiling, sir,” the lizard said anxiously as it watched him.

Corvan spit the seed into his hand. It was teardrop shaped and veins on its surface pulsed as if a tiny heart were beating inside. As he held to the rock overhead there was a small tug as the seed reattached itself to the rock. As he pulled his hand away, a translucent skin formed and obscured the patchwork of veins.

“You must replant it any time you eat the fruit. It is forbidden to eat the center of the lumiens. The penalty is death, for they are our source of light and life.”

“Does each one only have one seed?”

The lizard shook its head. “I have been told that there is a special mother plant that produces many clusters of seeds, but I have never seen it. It belongs to the priests, but it must not produce many of the seeds because the Cor is darker each time I return.”

A fuzzy blue skin now covered the seed, twitching and stretching as the fruit expanded.

“They grow quickly at first, but they won’t glow or be ready to eat again until they are larger. If you pick them when they are a brighter color, they become too spicy for my taste. Would you like to try a brighter one?” The lizard raised a claw toward the globes.

“I feel full. Maybe later.” The pleasant feeling from the seed had passed and left behind a heightened awareness of his body, as if the electricity was trapped inside him. He wasn’t sure he like the sensation.

Looking around the lizard’s chamber, his gaze settled on an intricate sculpture created from bits of metal, hanging on one wall. Looking closer, he could see pieces he recognized: a circular saw blade, lids from tin cans, a tie rod from a truck, and a rusty hand-cranked eggbeater. “Did you make that?” Corvan asked.

A proud smile spread across the lizard’s face. “The hole onto the top of the rock permitted me freedom that a Watcher normally does not receive. I did not have to go back to the Cor for supplies and was able to learn much about you and your world. When I would explore, I would find things, so I made this to help me pass the time. I use very small fire sticks I grow to melt the pieces together. Do you like it?”

Corvan nodded. He didn’t know much about art, but it certainly looked as good as anything he had seen on his school field trip to the art gallery in the city.

Below the sculpture, a row of tall quartz crystals sprouted from the floor. “I’ve never seen rock crystals that big,” Corvan said.

The lizard nodded and eagerly leapt over to the crystals. “I have practiced a little over the years. It is one of the things that kept me from losing myself. Would you like to hear them?”

“Sure?” Corvan said, although he was uncertain how you would listen to rocks.

The lizard stepped into the center of the tallest crystals. After a moment of intense concentration, the creature caressed the angular shapes with the tips of his claws. A faint sound, like tiny glass wind chimes, slowly filled the room, rising from Corvan’s feet like water.The sound was like a liquid that flowed around his head and into his ears. As he closed his eyes, the tempo of the music increased. He imagined a group of these small creatures moving about the crystals in a circle, bobbing rhythmically up and down. Abruptly the music stopped.

The lizard was looking up at Corvan with glistening eyes. “I have not played that one since I accepted the black band. It was a song about my kind in the days before we became Watchers. Did you like it?”

“It was very nice.” Corvan’s ears still rang with the tune, and his head felt fuzzy. “I think I’d better sit down,” he mumbled, dropping the pack from his shoulder, and sitting beside it.

“Yes, you should rest. We have a short time until the first portal door opens into the labyrinth, and I need to pack. I am not sure what to take. I have more collected than I could ever carry.” Going to the cave wall, the lizard pulled back a coarse curtain to reveal a smaller room carved into the rock. Hanging on the back wall were rows of skinned and dried gopher carcasses. No wonder their field was the only one in the area not full of gopher holes.

Next to the dead gophers, sheaves of wheat were piled high in a roughly hewn stone bin. Shelves cut into the rock above it held a variety of glass jars full of dried fruits, nuts, and strange things that Corvan didn’t recognize. “So, that’s where my mother’s canning jars went. She always blamed me for taking them outside and losing them.”

“You did bring them outside, sir. So, in a way, she was correct,” the lizard replied.

“Why do you keep calling me ‘sir’?” Corvan asked.

“Out of respect. Now that I am free from the black band, I am pleased to become your servant.”

“How can you be free and also be a servant?” Corvan asked.

The lizard stopped picking items from his shelves and turned to Corvan. “That is the best freedom of all. To know I can serve by my own choice and not from fear of punishment and pain. I was born to serve, but I only enjoy it when I freely choose my own master.”

“Didn’t you freely choose to accept the black band?”

The lizard’s face wrinkled, and he caressed his neck. “Yes. I made the choice of my own will, but once the bond was on me, I was not free to leave. My choice placed me under his control. That is not how Tsarek was created to serve.”

“Is that your name,Tsah-reck?”

“It is the name I was given at emergence, but I have not used it for many years. He forbade us personal recognition. We were referred to only by the location of the portal we guarded.”

“What does your name mean?”

Tsarek looked down at the ground. “It meanspretty face.. on account of these blue markings.” He gestured to the side of his face.

The three lines of deep blue scales that swept off Tsarek’s face and onto his neck seemed more visible than before, as if the lizard were blushing. Corvan felt a bit sorry for him. “You don’t have to call me ‘sir.’ You can use my name and call me Corvan if you want.”

The lizard shook his head vigorously. “Oh no! If I used your title when others might overhear, that would be the end of us both.” His tone softened. “Perhaps I may be permitted to use your personal name?”

“Corvan is the only name I have.”

“I refer to the name your mother used: Kalian.”

“My mother never called me that.”

“I did not hear her call you,” Tsarek said, “but she sang it to you in her song. Kalian meansmy only one.”

Kalian. Was that the name Grandfather’s letter referred to? He liked the sound of it. “That will be fine. From now on, you can call me Kalian.”

The lizard’s eyes shone with honor. He crossed to Corvan, placed a slender paw on his knee, and looked into his eyes. “Tsarek promises to serve Kalian and … and . . .Oh, sir, I am so sorry.” His voice faltered, and his paw dropped from Corvan’s knee.

Tsarek, pulled back across the cavern floor and leaned heavily against the crystals. A discordant jangle of noise filled the room.

“What’s wrong?” Corvan asked.

Tsarek hung his head in sorrow. “I cannot serve you. Instead, you must kill me. You must take the right of family blood.”

“What do you mean?” Corvan said. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

Stepping into its pantry room, the lizard pulled something from a niche in the wall. He placed the object into Corvan’s hand, then stepped away, bowing deeply.

An old pocket watch with crudely scratched symbols over its back lay in his palm. He turned it over to find the front cover was carefully inscribed with the same insignia as the hammer. He flicked the catch, and the watch popped open. The bezel was cracked, and the hands were frozen together near the top position. Tiny words had been engraved on the inside cover. Lifting it toward the largest globe, Corvan read aloud, “To the Grandfather, on the birth of Corvan, September 21, 1937.”

His mother had told him about this watch. It had been a present from her to his grandfather. He wrapped his hand tightly around it. “Where did you get my grandfather’s watch?” Corvan asked.

“I did not know who it was,” Tsarek said. “It was dark, and I was afraid.”

“What are you saying?” Did you meet my grandfather? Where? When?”

“Oh sir. The bones up above in the entry. I took it from the skeleton after …” Tsarek fell prostrate on the floor. “Oh, sir, my life is forfeit to you. You must now kill me because I am the one who took the life of your past-father.”