CHAPTER TWELVE: THE BIG STAIRWAY

When they reached the first turn Albert stared upward while they rested, appraising the way they had yet to go. The stairs narrowed, became barely wide enough for the two of them to continue abreast. “They go up forever,” he said. And certainly, they made switchback after switchback until they were lost among the peaks.

“It’s just a mountain,” Alice said as she started again.

Albert soon got into a climbing rhythm. After a while he imagined that the stairs were not rising, but that he was pushing each step down—the stairs, the mountain itself, were moving beneath him while he stayed in one place. Even that notion eventually went away; he moved automatically, thinking of nothing.

He heard continuous thunder as they passed through cold mist and came to a waterfall that seemed to pour from a jumble of boulders as big as houses and fell from them in three places like thick veils. Just walking beside the waterfall they became as wet as if they’d been walking in a cloudburst. Moments later they were once again climbing through hot sunlight that quickly dried their clothes.

They climbed most of the day and at sundown they made camp right where they were on the steps. Albert looked over the side at the way they had come. The parts of the staircase that weren’t shrouded in mist or clouds were lost in distance, and the Flying Pig Mall was spread out below them like a toy made of neatly folded parchment. It seemed to glow with a light of its own in the late afternoon sunshine. Seen from this distance, it was impossible to say whether the mall was abandoned or bustling with people.

After dinner they made themselves as comfortable as they could, sprawling on the steps. Alice brought out a flute, and played sad songs. The music made Albert homesick all over again, a feeling which seemed almost comforting among all this strangeness.

“Something is out there,” Albert said softly when Alice had stopped and allowed her final notes to echo and fade.

“Your friend from the city?” Alice asked.

“Maybe. I’ll take the first watch.”

“I don’t think I can sleep.”

“We’ll watch together.”

They sat close to each other—for warmth—watching and waiting. Albert nodded off after a while, and when he awoke, he watched Alice sleep. He soon nodded off again. But no one bothered them that night. He was awakened by Alice puttering around making breakfast.

“We’re a reliable, pair aren’t we?” Albert remarked.

Alice jumped. “You don’t have to sneak up on me,” she said, irritated.

“I didn’t sneak,” Albert said. “I haven’t moved for hours.”

They ate in silence. The stairway seemed as dead as the mall below. Still Albert could not shake the feeling that something was nearby observing them.

The sun was high when they reached the top of the stairway at last and crossed a plateau that was really no more than a wide rock shelf. At the edge of the shelf they looked out upon a disheartening sight. The land descended from the plateau in another long staircase. But whereas the stairs on the city side of the mountain were civilized, finished and made of marble, the stairs they faced now were no more than rugged ridges cut into the side of the mountain. The land beyond the stairs was one mass of trees to the horizon. From here the forest looked cool, green, and friendly, but Albert had no idea what manxome foes it might hide.

“More stairs,” Alice said with disgust.

Descending the stairs was hot dusty work and they drank a lot of water. But they were sure to find more below in the forest. It soon became obvious that between the foot of the stairs and the forest stretched a wide swath of sand, a small desert. Crossing it might take them half a day.

They rested for a few minutes at the bottom of the stairs. “This whole trip is a lot more work than I expected,” Alice said while staring across the sand at the forest.

“Let’s see your map,” Albert said.

Alice obliged him and she looked over his shoulder while he studied it. The map contained so much empty space marked only by Here There Be Manxome Foes that it was difficult to know if they were going in the right direction.

“We found the Big Stairway,” Alice pointed out. “The unicorn probably knew what he was talking about.”

“Personally,” Albert said, “I’ve never before taken advice from a unicorn.”

“Too bad for you,” Alice said as she hefted her kit. “At least we don’t have to deal with any more stairs.”

As if that were a signal, an enormous bird swooped down at them shrieking like the whistle on a steam locomotive.