With that whispered oath, Toto made for the city gates.
He was out of the cursed city. Toto ran to the foot of the Forbidden Mountains without stopping. His breath was ragged, his chest ached, and his muscles screamed with exhaustion, but he did not rest. If he didn’t run now, he would be too late.
In Toto’s arms, the book glowed.
As he began to climb, the moon showed its face on the far side of the forest. It was as if it had waited for him to find the shelter of the trees.
Under the moonlight, the book glowed even brighter. It seemed to Toto then that, by some means beyond his comprehension, the moonlight and the book’s light were smiling at each other.
It was only a little farther to the pass. Not even the best hunters in the village could run like this. But Toto ran and ran faster, as though his very feet were enchanted.
6
THE ELDER AWOKE feeling even more exhausted after a night of fitful sleep than he had when he lay down the evening before. His eyes opened at the first shout at his door.
“Elder! We found him! We found Toto!”
He sat up and bade the man come in. The face of one of the older hunters appeared in his doorway. “They’re bringing him in now.”
A search party who had gone out at dawn had discovered Toto lying in a field.
“How is he?”
“Too weak to talk. But his eyes are open, and he can hear us.”
The elder quickly dressed and went outside to see a commotion at the village entrance. The search party had returned, carrying Toto between them on a wide wooden board. Oneh ran out from the back, but the elder waved her away. “To the weaving room, now.”
“But-”
“You are to do nothing but weave the Mark. I demand it.”
Oneh’s thin shoulders drooped and she withdrew.
The elder hurried to Toto’s house. Toto’s father was a hunter and a craftsman besides, skilled at making the implements needed for the hunt. He was not a man to be easily alarmed, but his face was pale and rigid as he watched the others carry his son through the door. The elder guessed that the woman he could hear wailing from inside the cottage was Toto’s mother.
“Have you called the physician?” he asked one of the men standing there.
“We sent a man on Silverstar to fetch him, Elder.”
Inside, the men carrying Toto lifted him gently onto his bed. His father stroked Toto’s hair and his mother hugged him, still weeping, while his little brother and sister pushed their way through the small crowd of men, crying and calling out Toto’s name.
Toto’s eyelids fluttered, and the elder saw his lips move, but there was no sound. Though he was covered with dust and scratches, he appeared to have been spared any serious injuries. His legs lay limp across the bed and his arms were clutched tightly across his chest.
The elder noticed that Toto was holding something. He took a breath, and in a loud, clear voice, announced, “Everyone, thank you for bringing Toto back to us safely. This is a time for all to rejoice. However, I must ask that, for a moment, you leave me alone with the boy. There’s something very important I must discuss with him.”
Most of the men hadn’t even realized the elder was there among them until he spoke. Quickly, they stepped away so that he might reach the boy, but Toto’s parents would not leave the boy’s side.
“I’m sorry,” the elder apologized to them, “but my duties require that I speak with Toto alone.” The elder looked at each of their faces in turn. “The physician will be here shortly. I need only a moment’s time before he arrives.”
The fate of our village might very well depend upon it, he thought.
Finally, they seemed to understand. Toto’s father gently touched his wife’s shoulder and they stood. Tears streaming down her face, his mother rubbed Toto’s head and cheek before she left.
Once everyone had gone, the elder gathered up his robes and hurried over to Toto’s bedside where he knelt.
“Toto. Do you know who I am?”
Toto’s head nodded slightly.
“Can you speak?”
The boy’s dried, cracked lips parted. “E-Elder…”
The elder placed a hand on Toto’s forehead. It was as damp and cold as clay never touched by the sun. He rubbed the boy’s skin and his hand came away covered with a fine gray dust. The feeling of it between his fingers sent a shiver up the elder’s spine, and he recalled what he had seen from the pass in the Forbidden Mountains.
The elder touched a hand to Toto’s arm and then to his legs. Everywhere he touched felt cold, and everywhere was covered by the same ashen dust. His clothes were infused with the smell of the stone city.
“You went beyond the mountains.”
Toto blinked and nodded.
“You went through the pass and down the other side. And then into the city.”
Toto nodded again.
“You saw the people turned to stone?”
Toto’s lips formed the words I saw.
“And you saw something else. What?”
In response, a single tear fell from the corner of Toto’s eye, and his entire body began to tremble.
“You met someone, didn’t you? Who? What did you see in that city of death?”
Toto’s breath quickened as though he were struggling to wring the last strength from his tiny frame. “F-face.”
“A face? What kind of face?”
“A woman…a woman’s face. I was…afraid,” he managed through tears.
Pity swelled in the elder’s heart, but his fear was greater. His hands clenched into fists. “Did she chase you?”
Toto closed his eyes and nodded. The elder’s blood went cold, and his heart began to beat raggedly in his chest.
“You have gone to a place where you should never have been and done something you should never have done.”
Toto’s small teeth chattered. “I-I’m sorry.”
Toto tried to move his arms on his chest, but they seemed to be stuck together. Toto’s slender muscles tensed and the layer of ashen dust covering his skin cracked and began to flake, like rust falling from iron.
“I found…this,” Toto said, finally loosening his arms enough so the elder could see what they held.
It’s a book-an ancient book.
“The book…”
The elder gently grabbed Toto’s wrists, helping the boy loosen his grasp.
“The book protected me,” Toto said in a hoarse whisper, and his eyes looked up at the elder. He was trying to give him the book.
Once the elder had helped Toto pry his arms far enough apart, the book slid easily out. Quickly, the elder caught it in his hand and lifted it up.
The cover was coated in gray dust, but the elder could tell that the cloth binding was a lighter white. The smell of dust filled his nostrils-the same smell the wind had carried when he stood looking down upon the city.
The elder carefully wiped the front cover and read the short series of letters running across it.
The Book of Light.
His eyes narrowed. How could it be?
“Toto,” he said, eyes still fixed on the book, “where did you find this? Did you truly find this in the city?” He grabbed the boy’s shoulder and shook him, his voice growing louder. But Toto’s eyes had lost their focus, and his arms fell limply to his sides, their task complete.
“Answer me, boy!”
Toto’s gaze drifted slowly, coming to rest for a moment on the elder’s face. His mouth moved. “The…light.”
“Light? What about the light?” The elder held his ear to Toto’s mouth, straining to hear. “Tell me about the light, Toto!”
Then the elder thought he heard the boy whisper I’m sorry, but whatever he said next was lost in the elder’s own scream.
As he lay there on the bed, Toto’s body began to harden, starting at his fingertips. It was as though a gray wave washed over him, covering his entire body while the elder watched.