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We cross realms to Sapphire, which doesn’t look much different to Diamond, and pass through several zones until we arrive at our destination — and I’m certain, as soon as we step through the borehole, that this is where we’re going to stop.
We’re standing on a wooden platform in the branches of a wide tree perched on the edge of a mountain. Below us lies a quarry, and sitting in the middle of the quarry is a series of massive abacuses set back to back. Each frame must be the height of a thirty- or forty-storey building, and at least twice as wide as it’s tall. The frames are made of incredibly thick logs, with silver poles running between the upper and lower bars. The circular beads dotting the poles vary in size, but most look like they could easily contain a house, and some could hold several buildings. The beads are different colours, clustered together or spaced apart, varying from pole to pole, and some slowly slide up or down as I’m watching.
I’m in the middle of counting the abacuses – I’m up to fourteen – when Inez claps my back. “Let’s fly.”
“Fly?” I echo. “I thought from what King Lloyd said that there was no flight in the Merge.”
“There are no planes here,” she says, “but we do have gliders.”
She nods at a spot behind us, and when I turn, I see dozens of winged gliders stacked against a long wall which is also home to many boreholes.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I wheeze as she fetches a couple of the small gliders. I glance down at the abacuses again. As tall as they are, we’re still high above them, and a long way short of the first giant structure.
“Put this on,” Inez says, trying to hand me one of the gliders.
“No way,” I shout, batting it aside. “I wouldn’t know where to begin. I’d crash into an abacus or the quarry floor.”
Inez squints at me, then laughs. “Look again at the space between this platform and the nearest abacus.”
I move closer to the edge and study the gap. At first I don’t see anything, but then I notice thin wires running between our platform and the beads on the upper level of the abacus.
“There are hooks on the gliders,” Inez says, pointing them out. “They clip onto the wires, and as long as we’re strapped in properly, it should be a smooth, straight run to Suanpan.”
“That’s what the abacuses are called?” I ask.
“It’s the name of the city,” she says.
“What city?” I frown.
She sighs and points towards the beads.
Staring, I see windows and doorways in the beads, and realise they aren’t just large enough to hold buildings — they are buildings.
Inez shakes a glider at me. This time I take it and let her manoeuvre my arms through the straps dangling from its slim but sturdy frame. She then connects another set of straps to my ankles.
“Is this really safe?” I ask as she ties herself into her own glider.
“People have been coming to Suanpan for more than a thousand years,” she says. “There’s an occasional accident, but no more than a handful per century.”
“Couldn’t you have just said, ‘Yes, it’s perfectly safe?’” I moan.
Inez chuckles wickedly. “I believe in full disclosure. Come on, it’s fun. Shuffle forward and I’ll clip you on. When you leap, your legs will rise behind you, and as long as you don’t fight it, you’ll fly like an arrow.”
“I’ve never been a fan of heights,” I mutter, looking over the edge of the platform again, trying to judge how high up we are. “Isn’t there another way, a ladder we can climb down and a doorway through one of the ground level beads?”
“There’s a path cut into the cliff,” Inez says, “but hardly anyone uses it. You can go that way if you’re determined, but it will take ages, and you’ll have to do it on your own, because I’m sticking with the glider.”
I don’t like it, but I let Inez clip me onto the wires, then watch as she attaches herself, runs to the edge and slickly hurls herself off.
I hold my breath and tiptoe to the edge of the platform. I rock back and forth for a few seconds, eyes shut, unable to believe that I’m really about to do this. Then I open my eyes, lean forward, stick my arms out, whoop with excitement and terror (mostly terror) and let gravity take me.
My stomach drops as I swoop swiftly towards the gigantic abacus-shaped city. I look for Inez, but when I move my head, my body sways sickeningly and my legs jackknife behind me. With a low moan, I let my head hang straight and stare at the ground as I hurtle forwards.
I suddenly realise that Inez never told me how to stop this thing.
“Inez!” I roar without looking up. “How do I brake?”
She must be too far ahead of me, because there’s no answering cry.
I curse and raise my head, slowly this time, trying to see if there’s a cord that I can pull to slow the glider, but there doesn’t seem to be anything hanging from the frame apart from the straps holding me in place.
I’m closing in on a bead. There’s a door ahead of me but it’s shut. I’m not sure what the beads are made of, but whatever the material is, going at this speed, I’ll splatter like a fly if I hit.
“Help!” I scream. “Open the door! Tell me how to stop!”
There’s no answer, and I’m almost upon the bead without slowing a notch. This is going to be ugly. The only thread of comfort I can cling to is that it will be over so abruptly that my brain will be smashed to a pulp before it can register any pain.
I close my eyes and wait for the crash.
There’s a jolt, followed by another, and another, then another.
I feel myself slowing and my eyes open a crack. More jolts, and as I glance up, I see that there are ridges in the wires, calming bumps that serve to rein in the glider. I let out a shaky breath and wipe a hand across my forehead. It comes away wet with sweat. My heart is hammering so loudly that I can’t hear anything else, but as I come to a stop a few metres shy of the door, my heartbeat begins its return to normal, and I hear bells dinging inside the bead.
“That was fun, wasn’t it?” Inez calls, and I spy her to my right, in front of a neighbouring door. She’s linked her hands behind her head and looks at ease.
“Why didn’t you tell me... how it was going to stop?” I pant.
“You didn’t ask,” she says, and I shoot her an evil look.
“I thought I was going to hit the door and vaporise.”
Inez tuts. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Archie. You need to start trusting me.”
“Maybe I’d trust you more if you told me what’s going to happen before it happens,” I retort.
Inez giggles. “That wouldn’t be as much fun.”
I can’t help but laugh. Then I ask, “How long will we have to hang here?”
“It shouldn’t be long,” Inez says. “The Suanpanners usually respond to the bells pretty quickly.”
Confirming her prediction, both doors open at the same time and the gliders slide forward into the gloomy hollow of the bead.