The Descent

'This  spire  must  represent  the  map's  center,  this  fortress,'  Ali  said.  'An  X  to  mark the spot. But it's not actually touching the sea. In fact the sea is some distance away.'

'That had me stumped, too,' Ike  said. 'But you see how all the lines converge  here,  at the spire? We've  all  looked  outside  and  there  isn't  that  kind  of  convergence.  The  trail we came on continues following the shoreline. And one path leads down from the  back, a single path. Now I'm thinking we're  just a  spot  on  one  of  many  roads.'  He  pointed  to where  a single green line departed  from the sea. 'That  spot on that road.'

If  Ike  was  right,  and  if  the  map's  proportions  were  true,  then  their  party  had covered  less than a fifth of the sea's circumference.

'Then what could this spire represent?'  Ali asked.

'I've  been thinking about it. You know the adage, all roads lead  to...'  He  let  her  finish it.

'Rome?' she breathed. Could it be?

'Why not?' he said.

'The center  of ancient hell?'

'Can you stand on top for a minute?' Ike  asked her. 'I'll hold your  legs.'

Ali worked her knees onto the meter-wide  apex,  and then got to her  feet.  From  that extra  height,  she  saw  all  the  lines  drawing  in  toward  her  feet.  Abruptly  she  had  the sensation of enormous power. It  was as if, for a moment, the entire world fused in  her. The  center  was  here,  and  it  could  only  be  the  one  center,  their  destination.  Now  she understood why  Ike  had descended so shaken.

'While you're up there,' Ike  said, his hands firm upon  her  legs,  'tell  me  if  you  see  the map differently.'

'The lines are more distinct,' she said. With nothing to hold on to, nothing at her back or  front,  the  panorama  surged  in  toward  her.  The  great  web  of  lines  seemed  to  be lifting higher. Suddenly it was as if she were  not looking down, but up.

'Dear God,' she said.

The  spire had become the pit.

She was seeing the world from deep within. Her head began spinning.

'Get me down,' she pleaded, 'before I fall.'

'I  have  something  to  show  you,'  Ike  said  to  her  that  night.  More?  she  thought.  The afternoon's revelations had exhausted  her. He seemed  happy.

'Can't it  wait  until  tomorrow?'  she  asked.  She  was  tired.  Hours  had  passed,  and  she was still reeling from the map's optical illusion. And she was hungry.

'Not really,' he said.

They  had  made  camp  within  the  colonnaded  entry,  where  a  stream  of  pure  water

issued  from  an  eroded  spout.  Their  hunger  was  telling.  Another  day  of  explorations had  weakened  them.  The  ones  who  had  climbed  atop  the  spire  were  weakest.  They lay  on  the  ground,  mostly  curled  around  their  empty  stomachs.  Pia  was   holding Spurrier,  who  suffered  from  migraines.  Troy  sat  with  Ike's  pistol  facing  the  sea,  his head slumped, halfway to sleep. From here on, things were  going to get no better.

Ali changed her mind. 'Lead on,' she said.

She took Ike's  hand and got to her feet. He led  her  inside  and  to  a  secret  passage.  It contained its own flight of carved  stairs.

'Go slow,' he said. 'Save  your  strength.'

They  reached a tower  jutting above  the fortress.  They  had to crawl  through  another hidden  duct  to  more  stairs.  As  they  climbed  up  the  final  stretch  of  narrow  steps,  she saw a rich, buttery  light above. He let her go in first.

In a  room  overlooking  the  sea,  Ike  had  lit  scores  of  oil  lamps.  They  were  small  clay leaves  that cupped the oil and fed it along a groove to the flame at one tip.

'Where did you find these?'  she asked. 'And where  did the oil come from?'

In  one  corner  stood  three  large  earthenware  amphorae  that  might  well  have  been salvaged from an ancient Greek  shipwreck.

'It  was  all  buried  in  storage  vaults  under  the  floor.  There's  got  to  be  fifty  more  of these  jars  down  there,'  he  said.  'This  must  have  been  something  like  a  lighthouse. Maybe  there  were  others like it farther  along the shore, a system  of relay  stations.'

A  single  lamp  might  have   been   enough  to  let   her   see   her   fingertips.   In   their hundreds, the lamps turned the room to gold. She wondered how it would have  looked to hadal ships drifting upon the black sea twenty  thousand years  ago.

Ali sneaked a look at Ike.  He  had  done  this  for  her.  The  light  was  hurting  his  eyes  a little, but he didn't shield them from her.

'We  can't  stay  here,'  he  said,  wiping  at  his  tears.  'I  want  you  to  come  with  me.'  He was  trying  not  to  squint.  What  was  beautiful  to  her  was  painful  to  him.  She  was tempted  to  blow  out  some  of  the  lamps  to  ease  his  discomfort,  but  decided  he  might be insulted.

'There's  no way  out,' she said. 'We can't go on.'

'We can.' He gestured  at the endless sea. 'It's not hopeless, the paths go on.'

'And what about the others?'