Cracks in the Shell

Chapter 22

Henry opened his eyes. A galaxy of stars glittered overhead, however, the air still retained a musty, subterranean smell. How is this possible?  

“They’re not stars.” Jell had his neck craned to the heavens. He turned back and helped Henry to sit up. 

“Where are we?” 

“Look at this.” Jell opened his hand to reveal a fat grub twisting about his palm. Organs inside its belly glowed a brilliant green, like a ghostly egg roll. 

“Glowworms?” Henry asked.

“Yes, the ceiling’s covered in thousands of them.” 

As Henry’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw that he lay in a cavernous chamber, the ceiling of which sparkled with constellations. This eerie light illuminated a sloping tunnel, like a dried out water slide, which curved out from the wall and into the pit where they currently sat. The sand here must have cushioned our landing, Henry thought. Riyal could have warned us about this. He checked his head for signs of injury but found no bumps. So Henry turned his attention to the rest of the cavern. 

Rows of wooden scaffolding stretched ahead of him, dispersed amongst the stalagmite knobs. What appeared to be paper towel rolls threaded the length of the racks. No, they were scrolls, thousands of scrolls, cracked and yellowed with age. And that wasn’t all. Bookshelves, filled with thick tomes and reams of parchment, lined the outer walls. Everywhere Henry looked he saw paper and ink, a vast library bathed in eerie green light - the archives. 

“This is what Riyal wanted us to find,” he said.

“Yes,” Jell sat back on a rock and stared at him strangely. “I’m hungry. Do you have any chicken? I really do love those tasty birds.”

Jell was babbling nonsense. He must have hit his head on the way down. Henry looked the priest over, but he seemed unscathed: no blood or bruises; no lumps on his head. Maybe he was just in shock. “You have the food, remember?”

Rummaging through his pack, Jell smiled. “Ah, my horse brought it. But no chicken. Pity.” He removed a mango and began to cut into the fleshy pulp with a knife.

“Your horse? What are you talking about?” Henry suddenly felt very alone. This was the worst place for Jell to loose his mind - stranded underground with little food or water. They needed to find a way back to the surface. 

But Jell seemed unconcerned with their predicament. “The Jellyman, I should have known he’d bring food. He’s never without it.” 

Henry stood up slowly. Why is Jell talking about himself in the third person? “Who am I talking to?” he asked.

“Azaka,” Jell said, smiling. 

Henry decided to humor him. “Are you a spirit?”

Jell nodded and then tossed a slice of mango into his mouth. Great. Jell thinks he’s possessed. Henry groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.   

“Why don’t you rest, Mr. Zaka? I’ll look around for an exit.”

Jell smiled knowingly, as if sensing Henry’s disbelief. “The way out is right over there.” Henry followed his outstretched hand to a door at the opposite end of the cavern. It stood ajar, framing a staircase that spiraled upward and out of view. 

“Do you mind if I test it?” Jell simply shrugged. So Henry added, “It’s not that I don’t trust you.” It’s just that you’ve lost your bloody mind, he thought to himself as he jogged through the scroll racks.