The Eye of Minds

“I like a guy who can follow orders,” Bryson said with a smirk.

Sarah leaned back and turned away from Michael. “Let’s go, then. It’s this way.”

She moved forward on her hands and knees, followed by Bryson and then Michael, and they began making their way deeper into the tunnel.

Several minutes passed without anything changing. Michael felt a suffocating pressure in his chest, but every time he paused to take a deep breath, it loosened up and he was able to breathe easily again. The silence was strange as well—almost like it wasn’t silence at all but a constant buzz. For a while he assumed that the others were just quiet as they focused on the code, but then a thought crossed his mind. When he called out to them, no sound came out of his mouth. It was as if someone had pushed a mute button—and for some reason it was the most terrifying thing about the bizarre tunnel so far.

He kept moving, creeping his way forward, focused on Bryson’s legs. He was scared to death that his friend might disappear at any second, leaving him all alone. His hands and knees were beginning to hurt, his arms and legs cramping. And he was growing more disoriented and nauseated by the minute.

On and on they went, shuffling along like a line of ants. They’d gone at least a mile, maybe two. His body wasn’t used to such a thing. A whisper of panic was also starting to build within him, a claustrophobic feeling that threatened to take over. But he forced it down, took each moment, and inch, at a time, relying on his friends’ hacking and coding skills. He never thought he’d ever be so thankful for Bryson’s butt, a beacon in that purple fog.

They were still crawling in silence when something suddenly slammed down on Michael, pressing his body hard into the ground. He fell flat onto his stomach and lost his breath. His fear flared into terror, and he screamed and kicked. He was barely able to move. His mind began to cloud up, and a wild feeling crept in, like he’d lost control of his own actions.

And then it ended. All of it ended. The purple tunnel, the silence, the pressure that pushed him to the ground. He was lying on a hard gray surface. He got his hands under him and pushed up to his knees. Then he stared in wonder at what surrounded him.

He and his friends were crouched on the edge of a huge stone disk a few dozen feet wide, seemingly hanging in midair. Massive formations of dark clouds hung above their heads, growing and shrinking like living things. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed and the air was heavy with humidity, as if rain would pour down any minute.

Michael had no idea where they were—he’d never been anywhere like it in the VirtNet. Yet despite its oddness, he was relieved to leave the tunnel behind.

“Hey.” Bryson gestured with his head for Michael to look behind him.

Michael spun around to face the center of the disk. Nothing had been there when they’d arrived—he was sure of it—but now there was an old woman sitting in a rocking chair, the wood creaking as she slowly rocked back and forth. She was dressed in a shapeless length of gray wool. Michael thought she looked like a kind grandmother.

“Hello, my young friends,” she said in a hoarse croak. “Come on over and sit a spell.”

3

Michael just stared at the woman, and when neither of his friends moved, either, she stopped rocking in her chair and leaned toward them. “Gods above, you better get your rumps over here right quick or there’ll be hell to pay, I can tell you that much. Now!”

Startled by her abrupt change, Michael scrambled to his feet, Bryson and Sarah at his heels, and made his way to the center of the platform to join the woman.

“Sit,” she commanded. Her wrinkled lips were puckered as if she had no teeth, and her voice was scratchy.

They did as she said. Michael folded his legs beneath him and waited intently. Stuff like this was weird, he thought, but it wasn’t that weird—he’d spent half his life inside the Sleep, and he’d gotten used to strange characters like this appearing. Most of the time they were harmless, but still, he reminded himself, if they had made it to the Path, this lady might be linked to Kaine, and that spelled trouble.

The woman peered down at the three of them, her eyes the only thing about her that didn’t seem a hundred years old. They were sharp and bright, but the rest of her looked used up and washed out. Yellowed skin wrinkled and drooping from her frail bones. Wispy gray hair that was barely there. Two ancient hands lay folded in her lap, like gnarled tree roots twisted upon themselves.

“Where are we?” Sarah asked. “And who are you?”

The old woman’s eyes snapped into focus. “Who am I, you ask? Where are you? What’s this place, what is here, why is this, and how is that? Where’d we come from, and where will we be going? Questions tumble out of your mouth, girl. But answers hide in the mist of the clouds.”

The woman’s eyes wandered as she spoke, slowly drifting until she was gazing at something far in the distance. Michael glanced over at Bryson, who raised his eyebrows in a warning for Michael to keep his mouth shut for a change.

“You,” the old woman said. One of her hands lifted from her lap, shaking slightly, and a crooked finger pointed down at Michael. “Make one wisecrack and this will be your end.”

Her face had hardened into a scowl, and Michael knew right then that he didn’t ever want to cross this woman. For all he knew, she’d morph into a dragon and eat them. This was the Sleep after all.

“Did your brain process my words properly?” she asked, her skin wrinkling up even more around her eyes as they narrowed. “Do you understand me?”

Bryson elbowed him in the ribs. “Be good.”

“Yeah,” Michael answered her. “Loud and clear.”

The old woman nodded and leaned back in her chair, began rocking again. “You kids couldn’t even give an old woman a proper greetin’ before you started spewing questions.”

“We’re sorry,” Sarah spoke up. “Really. We went through a lot to get here, and we just want to know how to keep going. We’re looking for a place called the Hallowed Ravine.”

“Oh, I know very well what those hearts of yours are lookin’ for. The Path only leads to one destination, and that destination only has one path to it. The Hallowed Ravine is far from where you sit right now, though, I can tell you that much.”

Michael was getting impatient. “So what do we need to know?”

Her finger came back out, its yellowed nail pointing straight at him. “This one is no longer allowed to speak. One peep and I vanish.”

Bryson snapped an arm out and clamped his hand over Michael’s mouth before he could say another word.

“He had a rough time getting here,” Bryson explained, an exasperated look on his face. “He’s a little bit softer around the edges than the rest of us. Don’t worry. He’ll keep his mouth shut. Won’t you, Michael? Nod once for yes like a good boy.”

Michael wanted to smack him, but he nodded once with a smile and peeled his friend’s hand from his face.

The old woman folded her hands in her lap again and started talking.

4

“They call me the Satchel, and never you mind the reasons. I’m here to keep my eye on the Path. At times we get intruders walking its ways. I don’t think I need to tell you that it won’t be much of a pleasant trip. Not very pleasant at all. Some of them smarter folks might call it irony, but the Path’s only purpose is to try and stop people from walkin’ it.”

She paused again. “Things are different here,” she continued. “Not like anywhere else in the VirtNet. You had to hack and code to get this far, but from here on out you can’t just rely on that alone. You’re gonna need to be clever. And brave. And there’s one rule you’ll need to remember most of all. When you hear it, you’re gonna wish your ears had been lying.”

“What is it?” Sarah asked.

The Satchel didn’t answer for a second, and Michael almost trembled with impatience.

“You die, you’re done,” she finally said. “Done like rabbits in a lion’s den. You’ll be sent back to the Wake, and the odds of you ever making it back inside the Path rank right up there with tryin’ to walk from Venus to Mars. It can’t be done. You made it here, that’s a fact—and with some fine bravery and gaming skills. But now we have you registered top to bottom, inside and out, and there’s no way you’ll get in twice.”

Michael swallowed hard and exchanged a worried look with his friends. This was serious business. Even the most brutal games in the VirtNet were played with the knowledge that dying was just a setback. Nothing more than a delay. And that helped people go out there and play without reserve, taking chances and doing things they’d never do in real life. That was what made it fun—you could always go back and try again.

But if what this old woman had said was true, Michael and his friends only had one shot at this. If that had been the case in Devils of Destruction, they’d have been done days ago.

“You’re taking it like grown-ups,” the Satchel said. “I gotta give you credit for that. Things are different on the Path—never been a better firewall built. Hands down.”

Michael was about to go crazy from the command not to speak, even though he didn’t really know what he wanted to say.

Thankfully, Bryson spoke up. “Okay, if we die, we’re sent back to the Wake. Got it. What else can you tell us?”

The Satchel laughed before she answered. “There are only two ways off this disk. The first one’s to jump to your death and head back to the Wake.”

That’s not an option, Michael thought.

“And the second?” Bryson asked.

The woman smiled, shifting the many wrinkles on her face. “Figure out what time it is.”

5

As soon as she said the words, the entire structure on which they sat dropped several feet. Michael’s stomach lurched as they fell, and he reached out to grab on to something to still himself.

Light flashed in the sky, and openings began to appear and disappear in random patterns around them, chasms of pure darkness that hung in the air just a few feet from the lip of the stone.

The disk abruptly rotated in place, throwing Michael off-balance again. He sprawled across the stone and was sliding toward the edge when the disk slammed to a stop. The Satchel’s chair remained unmoved, and the old woman cackled from her perch.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asked. “Why are we moving?”

Michael crawled back to sit right next to the chair in the center.

“I’ve already told you what needs be done,” the Satchel said. “Searching the code won’t help you now.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Michael asked, forgetting her command to stay quiet. “How do we guess the time?”

Her eyes found his—they were dark with anger. “I only have a few more words for you troublesome three, and then I’ll be gone.”

“Then get on with it,” Michael answered, relieved she hadn’t reacted to his breaking his silence.

The disk shifted again, and everyone scrambled to hold themselves in place. Michael glanced up at the edge of the stone circle and saw that the black rectangles were still appearing and vanishing. All around, dark clouds churned and boiled, stretching, collapsing on themselves, then growing large again.