I never saw a tree like that before,” Josh said. The group had been following the path set by Sarah’s golden heart when they came across a strange, stunted tree. He stopped and peered upward. Brown fruit hung from its top branches.
“I have,” Volka said. “It’s a honeyfruit tree. Here, try some.” He picked some fruit and tossed it to them. “The bees stuff honey in the fruit for some reason.”
“It’s crisp and delicious,” Sarah said, licking her fingers. “Let’s take as much as we can with us.”
So they did. Volka stripped the branches, and all filled their pockets and packs.
It wasn’t long before Josh said, “Look, there’s a hummingbird—and there’s another!”
“Wait a minute,” Tam said suddenly. “Those aren’t hummingbirds—they’re bees!” He ducked as one rifled by his head. “They’re bigger than sparrows!”
“Be careful,” Crusoe warned. “I saw one of those sting a dog once, and he died in a few hours.”
“Look,” Sarah said, “I don’t see how the heart could be any brighter! We must be close.”
“Hey,” Josh called out, pointing at an opening in a large rock formation that rose twenty or thirty feet in the air. “That must be it. Come on!”
He started to run to the opening, but Mat tripped him neatly, spilling him on the ground. Josh got up angrily. “Why’d you do that?” he spluttered.
Mat pointed at the opening. “Look at that. See those bees going in and coming out? That whole rock is a beehive for those monsters!”
Crusoe nodded. “I think you’re right. And it would be suicide to go in there! Let’s see if we can find another opening.”
They skirted the rock formation, but there was no other opening. They tried walking away but the heart at once began to lose its fire and grow dull.
“That’s it, I guess,” Tam said. “Can’t we smoke them out?”
“Too big,” Mat answered. “We’ll have to go back until we can think of something. We can’t go in there.”
“I believe if we’ve been led this far, we’re intended to go in,” said Sarah sharply. “What do you think, Josh?” She turned to him for support.
What neither Sarah nor any of the others could know was that Joshua, who was not in the least fearful of a snake or a spider, was terrified of bees and wasps. In fact, he was allergic to them. Once, when he was eight years old, he had been stung by a honeybee. The convulsions that followed nearly killed him. Ever since then, Josh had been almost helplessly terrified of bees.
In response to Sarah’s question, he only reddened and mumbled. “Well, maybe Mat is right. Some things are too hard.”
Sarah seemed caught off guard. She looked at Josh a little closer, but he ducked his head.
“Well, I’m going in,” Sarah said.
“I’ll go with you,” Crusoe declared. “We’ll be all right if we don’t accidentally mash one of them. That sends off a warning to attack, and we’d be dead right off.”
The pair walked toward the door.
∗ ∗ ∗
Crouching low, Sarah and Crusoe advanced down a tunnel that must have been seven feet high and at least three feet wide. Overhead Sarah heard the zinging sound of the bees going in and out of the hive. They had not gone far when it grew too dark to see.
“This won’t do,” Crusoe said. “We may blunder into some grubs in this blasted darkness.” Then he looked over his shoulder. “What’s that?”
A light was coming down the tunnel behind them. Soon Sarah heard Josh’s voice.
“It’s me. I’m—I’m coming with you.” His voice trembled, and the light in his hand was unsteady.
Crusoe threw his arm about Josh’s shoulders—something he had never done before. He whispered huskily, “I know how hard this is for you, my boy.”
Sarah squeezed Josh’s hand.
The trio had gone only a few steps farther when suddenly Josh stopped and said, “Listen to that!”
The air, Sarah realized, was filled with a tremendous humming, like a mighty dynamo.
Josh threw his light on the walls. They had entered a large cavern. The walls were all honeycombs, swarming with thousands and thousands of the giant bees. It was the bees that made the terrible humming.
“Come on,” Josh said. “I think there’s an opening …” Suddenly he yelled.
In the dim light Sarah saw that a great bee had lighted on the helpless Josh. Its needlelike stinger was ready to sink into his neck.
“Don’t move, Josh!” Crusoe said instantly. “Don’t move a muscle.”
Somehow Josh was able to obey. Finally, after what had to have been some of the longest moments of his life, the bee flew off.
“Josh!” Sarah grabbed his arm. “Are you all right?”
“I—think so,” Josh said unevenly. “But it was so odd! That thing lit on my neck, and I almost jumped out of my skin. Then—well, it was like I was lifted out of my body and someone else stepped in and sort of became me. And then the bee went off, and I came back! What does it mean?” he asked Crusoe.
The old man shrugged, but there was a strange fire in his eyes. “We are not alone, are we, my boy?”
The three slowly continued on their way. Just as they were about to leave the immense central cavern, Sarah spoke. “Smell that? It’s the honey.”
“Like the song, ‘Where the sweetest breath’ —that’s the honey— ‘turns to sudden death,’ that’s the bees.”
They entered a much smaller tunnel. At the end of the passage, they found what they were seeking—a white door that opened when the song was sung. Inside stood the third capsule, full of the dense gas.
As they stood before it, Crusoe looked at Josh. He asked curiously, “Do you expect to find a great captain in this one?”
Josh did not smile. “It will be whoever it should be.” He pushed the button marked AWAKE, and the chamber cleared slowly. The top swung open.
They watched as an undersized, red-haired teenager opened his eyes and sat up.
When the Sleeper saw the travelers, he jumped off the bed and put his back to the wall. “Who are you?” he asked defiantly.
“Friends,” Sarah said. “I’m Sarah, this is Josh, and that is Crusoe.”
The small redhead had a pug nose, and there was a fighting light in his bright eyes.
“How do I know you’re not enemies?” he demanded.
“Well,” Josh said, “why don’t you test us—ask us questions?”
“OK, I will. What’s a Big Mac?”
“A hamburger!” Josh and Sarah answered.
“Who was Humphrey Bogart?”
“A great film star.”
“What’s General Motors?”
“A car company.”
Slowly a grin broke across the face of the redhead. He admitted, “Well, I guess only real Americans would know that stuff. You can call me Jake. Jake Garfield.”
“A ‘son of Isaac,’” Crusoe murmured.
“That’s right,” Jake said. “My old man’s name was Isaac, but how’d you figure that?”
“We’ll tell you when we get out of here, Jake. Let’s go.”
They found their way out without incident, though Jake’s eyes bulged at the massive bees. He seemed even more amazed at the sight of a giant and a pair of dwarfs.
“Are you sure they’re all friendly?” he whispered to Josh as he gazed at Volka. “I’d hate to have to mess with that guy!”
Later that night the company ate the last of the honeyfruit. As they ate, Crusoe told Jake the history of the Sleepers. He also told him of the Quest.
Then Jake looked around the campfire and grinned broadly. “Well, we got one tough, if a bit small, lady; one beanpole on his way to manhood; one hunchback; one hairless King Kong; two midgets; and a skinny redhead. I don’t see why we can’t save the world with such a pack.”
He looked so satisfied that they all had to laugh at his cocky attitude.
“Where do we go from here?” Jake asked.
“Well, here’s the song,” Josh said.
“‘All caves of earth are dark and drear,
except the one that glows like diamonds clear.
“‘He who would this Sleeper wake,
must pass the deadly jaws of fate.’
“There’s 18 syllables in the first group—and 15 in the second. Let’s see,” Josh murmured.
They gathered around the worn map, and Crusoe whistled as Josh put his finger on the spot.
“This won’t be easy,” Crusoe remarked. “Look, if we go this way down the Temple Road, we’re almost sure to be recognized. But the other way is right back through the Forbidden Land.”
“Not that way!” they all said at once.
“No, it’s too dangerous,” Crusoe agreed. “There’s only one other way that I can see. Look, we can get a boat right here and sail south through the Dark Sea.”
“Not there,” Mat said. “That’s the Ghost Marshes. Nobody goes through there.”
“Why not?” Josh asked.
“For one thing—merely a small detail, you understand—people go in on one side and never come out on the other. Sorry to be so picky.” Mat sniffed disdainfully. “Of course, in this group of mystics, someone will probably dream us across the Marsh!”
After much argument, the travelers finally agreed that there was no other way. They would have to find a boat and pass through the Ghost Marshes.