Dormia (41 page)

All eyes turned to General Loxoc. It was clear from the look on his face that he had already been told of this news and he now wore a sad, stoic expression of mourning.

After a few seconds, the grand vizier began again. "We must reluctantly conclude that Kiril followed the group for quite a while, perhaps as far as Straszydlo Forest, which is too close for my comfort. And yet, from the group's description of Straszydlo Forest, it also seems clear that the forest is in excellent condition. For millennia the Straszydlo have served us well by preventing Dragoonya armies from crossing through their forest and getting near our city. We owe them a great debt of thanks." She looked at General Loxoc. "But the best news is this: our Dormian scouts, who have been perched in their mountain lookouts since the arrival of the Great Sleeper, have reported back to General Loxoc that no army has been sighted in our vicinity." At this, Loxoc nodded sternly. "In short," continued the grand vizier, "despite all the close calls that the Great Sleeper has had, it does
not
appear that he has been followed."

A great cheer erupted from the amphitheater once again. Everyone was on their feet, shaking hands and exchanging hugs. Throngs of Dormian men and women swarmed Alfonso and the other members of the group.

No one in the group enjoyed this more than Spack. "I led the group here personally," she told a gang of adoring elderly men. She glanced at Hill, who was standing nearby. With a sly grin, she put her arm through his. "Well, perhaps that's not completely true. We couldn't have done it without this handsome Dormian. I suppose they'll erect a statue in our honor. Of course, a bronze statue would be nice, especially a large one somewhere in the Trunk District. Wouldn't you gents agree?"

"We will build you two statues," cried one of the old men enthusiastically. "There will be one in the Trunk District and another in my backyard."

The only person who did not seem very pleased was Dr. Nostrite, who remained in his seat with a slight scowl on his face.

"Excuse me!" yelled the grand vizier. "Excuse me!"

Gradually, the crowd settled down.

"I have concluded my formal inquiry into the matter of whether the Great Sleeper was followed," announced the grand vizier. "At this point, I would like to hand the third and final portion of our inquiry over to Dr. Nostrite."

The crowd sighed. Many of them took this moment to leave, although more than half returned to their seats. When everyone was settled, Dr. Nostrite rose to his feet and began to pace back and forth on the stage. He was sweating a great deal, but the scowl was now gone; in its place was a smile that looked more like a sneer.

"Greetings and salutations," proclaimed Dr. Nostrite in his thin nasal voice. "I am the chief scientist and keeper of the Founding Tree. My offices are located on the first major branch of the Founding Tree." Dr. Nostrite paused and gestured skyward, up the trunk of the Founding Tree, to an enormous tree house that sat perched on its lowermost branch. "It is there that I have studied this magnificent tree and come to know it so well. It is my job to look after this arboreal wonder and, rest assured, I will do so!

"I would like to invite all members of the Great Sleeper's party to make their way onto the stage with the Dormian bloom," continued Dr. Nostrite. "And let's be quick about it, we have a lot to do."

Alfonso, Hill, Bilblox, and Spack stood up and made their way onto the stage. Bilblox carried the Dormian bloom with his right hand and clasped Alfonso's shoulder—for guidance—with his left hand. Bilblox set the plant down on center stage and then backed away. Dr. Nostrite glared at Bilblox's eyes, but said nothing.

For the most part, the plant appeared to be in excellent shape. Its stem stood tall and straight. Its leaves were large and healthy-looking. Even the soil in the plant's pot looked perfectly moist and fertile. In Alfonso's estimation, whatever that counted for, the bloom was ready to be planted. Upon seeing all of this, Alfonso hoped that the inspection might go well.

Dr. Nostrite began examining the plant carefully. "At first glance, the Dormian bloom appears to be in moderate condition, but there are a number of worrisome signs on the stem of the plant," he said in his nasal voice. As he spoke, an assistant named Philliam—who also turned out to be Dr. Nostrite's son—took notes, nodded constantly, and, at every convenient moment, said, "Yes indeed, quite right, dearest father, quite right!"

"The stem shows wear and tear from exposure to extreme altitude," muttered Dr. Nostrite.

"Well we did fly in an old seaplane..." began Alfonso.

"Uh-huh," said Dr. Nostrite.

"Quite an astute observation, my dearest father, quite right!" said Philliam eagerly.

"Shut up, Philliam," said Dr. Nostrite.

"Yes sir," said Philliam.

"I also see that the plant's growth was somewhat stunted because it was confined to a narrow space," said Dr. Nostrite.

"We transported it in a hat and then a coffin when it grew too big for the hat," explained Alfonso.

"Why am I not surprised?" asked Dr. Nostrite with a roll of his eyes.

"We had to carry the plant in somethin'!" protested Bilblox.

"Silence!" snapped Dr. Nostrite. "Now what do I see here? It looks as if someone actually broke off two leaves from the plant. The scars are obvious. I'll want to take a closer look of course ...
Philliam:
get me a magnifying glass!"

Philliam scurried across the stage and returned a moment later with a magnifying glass. Alfonso's heart beat furiously and he felt his palms go wet. Bilblox shifted about uneasily. Dr. Nostrite grabbed the magnifying glass and held it closely to the bottom part of the plant, where the two leaves had been broken off. He inspected the plant with exacting detail for almost ten excruciating minutes. At long last, he stood up and flashed a triumphant and yet malevolent grin.

"What do you see, dearest father?" asked Philliam excitedly.

"If you look long enough and carefully enough, it's amazing what you can find," said Dr. Nostrite calmly. "In this case, I have found a lone speck of purple ash—otherwise known as Dormian ash. Someone has broken off two leaves from the Bloom and
burned
them!"

A giant collective gasp resonated from the crowd.

"
Burned?
" Philliam asked in a horrified tone.

"I can explain everything—" began Alfonso.

"Did you burn them?" snapped Dr. Nostrite. "Are you—honored Great Sleeper—using the Dormian ash? Do we have another Nartam in our midst? Perhaps you didn't realize how little ash you can get from it. Are you and your blind friend
looking to destroy more, just like Nartam? First a few leaves, then a branch, then the entire tree!"

"No!" shouted Bilblox. "I'm the only one who did it. Alfonso had no part in this. I'm the one to blame."

"He's not to blame," pleaded Alfonso. He looked at Hill. "We didn't know it was bad to burn it—it was just an experiment! It's not Bilblox's fault!"

"Guards!" yelled Dr. Nostrite at the top of his lungs. "I order you to seize that man called Bilblox. He is an enemy of Dormia!"

Several guards began walking toward Bilblox. Before they could get any closer, however, Alfonso darted in between them and Bilblox. "Stay back!" yelled Alfonso defiantly. "He is a friend of mine and of Dormia."

The guards stood frozen in place. Clearly, none of them wanted to make trouble with the Great Sleeper.

"Seize that man!" yelled Dr. Nostrite. "He committed the gravest crime imaginable: he burned the bloom! If you do not arrest him I will bring you up on charges of treason!"

The guards nodded off to sleep, readying themselves for a fight, and then stepped forward. Alfonso reached into his pocket and clasped his blue sphere. Perhaps the time had finally come for him to use it. Everyone in the amphitheater tensed for the battle that was about to ensue.

"Enough!" yelled General Loxoc. "This has gone far enough! Have we lost all sense of dignity?"

"Dr. Nostrite," said the grand vizier, "in your professional opinion, has any real harm been done to the Dormian bloom?"

"Miraculously, the bloom appears to be quite healthy," replied Dr. Nostrite. "No thanks to these incompetent fools!"

"If the bloom is healthy then what's the harm?" asked Alfonso. "Can't we just forget about this?"

"I'm afraid not," said the grand vizier. "Burning anything, even the smallest leaf or root or bark from a Founding Tree or a Dormian bloom is the most serious offense that anyone can commit. Don't you see? That is
precisely
what separates us from the Dragoonya. The temptation is always there to burn just a single leaf. After all, who among us would not enjoy having a quick glimpse into the future? And for Dormians the temptation is even greater. As I am sure you've been told, a Dormian who uses the ash can prolong his or her life by centuries. We believe that's how Nartam has lived as long as he has. But we can't go down this path. We cannot sacrifice the Founding Tree for our own selfish needs. It is the tree—and only the tree—that sustains our people. Without it, we are nothing."

"I understand," said Alfonso. "But Bilblox didn't burn the plant to enjoy its powers. It's not his fault. It's
mine.
Can't you make an exception?"

The grand vizier shook her head sadly. "I wish I could," she said. "But, you see, once someone puts the ash into his or her eyes, that person can no longer be trusted."

"I tried to tell them that," interjected Spack. "I told them that even a good person like Bilblox would be corrupted once he put the ash into his eyes."

"And I still don't believe it!" said Alfonso angrily. "Are you going to treat Bilblox as badly as you treated the Gahnos?"

"Whether you believe in it or not, we Dormians have certain basic laws that cannot be put aside, not even at the request of a Great Sleeper," said the grand vizier. "Rest assured, Bilblox will be treated humanely. He will not suffer the fate of the Gahnos.
I give you my word on that. In the meantime, I will take this matter up with my advisors."

"I think some kind of punishment is required," snorted Dr. Nostrite. "We must shackle him and imprison him at once. And I demand that we search him for any incriminating evidence."

The soldiers looked at General Loxoc, who nodded in agreement.

Bilblox tensed his fists. "Don't," said Alfonso. "We don't have anything to hide anymore." Bilblox knew what was about to happen. His shoulders sagged, as if all his strength had left him. The soldiers searched his pants and then his jacket.

"General!" cried one of the soldiers. With one hand he was holding Bilblox's jacket and in the other sat a few glittering granules of purple ash.

Alfonso looked at Bilblox in shock. "Bilblox?" he said. "Where did you get that ash?"

Bilblox stared at the ground. "I didn't use it," he said in a low voice.

"Take the bloom and the ash and lock it securely in my office at the palace," General Loxoc said in a firm voice. "And take this man to prison."

"For how long?" asked Alfonso.

General Loxoc stared hard at Alfonso. "Somnos law is clear: all leaf-burners face life in prison."

B
ILBLOX SAT
in the back of a horse-drawn sled, his arms and legs bound with cut iron chains. His head felt unbearably heavy. Dr. Nostrite's biting words still rung in his ears. It had all happened so quickly and now, as his sled rattled on toward the Somnos prison, Bilblox's despair took on a dreamlike quality. All of his recent memories jumbled together. For a second, he wondered if he were dead and, instead of being taken to prison, he was actually in a coffin on the way to being buried. "It's the same thing," he said to himself drearily. "I might as well be dead if I'm going to spend the rest of my life behind bars." Bilblox imagined his beard becoming thick and matted, his fingernails growing long and yellow, and his hair lengthening out and flowing down past his shoulders. He'd be the insane blind
man—hated by all because he burned two leaves from the Founding Tree. And it all happened because he had been trying to do the right thing.

The sled slowed and Bilblox heard a long, rusty screech. It was the iron gate of the prison opening. The sled inched forward another hundred feet or so and then stopped. Another voice, heavy and angry, called, "Attention, leaf-burner, take it slow and easy. No quick moves—we know all about you!"

Bilblox climbed out of the sled and hesitated on the top step. He could see nothing, but he could hear guards moving all around him. Immediately, a pair of hands grabbed his leg chains and began yanking on them. "Come on," barked the guard. "Out of the sled!" Bilblox stepped down slowly, each foot searching for the rung below. The rungs were evenly spaced, but he couldn't see that the distance between the last rung and the ground was much greater than the others. Bilblox, champion of Ballast and widely recognized as the strongest longshoreman in Fort Krasnik, searched blindly with his foot for the ground, found nothing, and toppled forward to fall heavily onto the snow. Everyone laughed. Bilblox groaned and rested his head on the ground.

Several guards picked him up and half-dragged him to his cell. Bilblox inched across the wall of the jail cell until he bumped into a mattress. He immediately lay on it and uttered a mournful sigh.

"Oh come on," said a nearby voice. "It's just prison, after all."

Bilblox sat up quickly. "Who's that?" he growled. "I'm blind but I'll crush ya with one fist."

The voice, half-scratchy, half-squeaky—like many Dormian voices—just laughed. "Oh, I'm sure you can," came the reply.
"But don't do it now. I'm your cellmate and probably your only friend. The name is Clink."

"That's a strange name," Bilblox said with a trace of the growl still in his voice.

"True," replied Clink as he sat up in his bed. "But when you've been in jail eleven times, you tend to get strange nicknames like that. You're the leaf-burner, aren't you? That's why you're blind. I may just call you Leafy for short."

Bilblox said nothing.

"Don't worry," Clink continued. "I don't care what you did,
Leafy.
The rules in this crazy city are useless, anyway. As it so happens, I'm in the process of leaving Somnos. I'm just looking for a way out—then I'll be on my way."