Chapter 1

            It was warm.  He had almost forgotten what warmth felt like.

            Jack opened his eyes and tried to focus.  There was a pattern above his head – a tapestry.  He sat up, with some difficulty, and the sheets and blankets fell as he did so.  He made a quick check of his own situation; his injuries seemed to be gone, and though some of his fingers and toes had suffered from frostbite, that too was healed.  He was also wearing a set of loose gray pyjamas.  Something significant had obviously taken place while he was unconscious.  Curious, he examined his surroundings.    He was in a canopied bed in a moderately sized chamber.  The chamber was made of stone – no, solid rock, for there were no blocks with joints between them.  There were no windows either, but the room was lit by an oil lantern on a nearby table.

            There were other things on the table as well – some folded clothes with his sword, still in its scabbard, laying across them.  He pushed the covers back and swung his feet to the carpeted floor.  Standing up took some effort, for he felt weak, but he could walk.

            The clothes on the table consisted of a pair of tan trousers with a belt, off-white stockings, a white shirt and a dark green tunic.  Not what he was used to wearing, but if it was all that was available, he would take it.  There was a small leather thong that he used to tie up his hair again.  He noticed that there were some boots under the table as well.  He exchanged the pyjamas for the provided outfit and put the scabbard of his sword through his belt.  Now he was ready to…to what?

            Well, he would find out who his hosts were, and how he had ended up here, in that order.  Then his stomach grumbled and he realized that food would have to be somewhere on that schedule too.  But before he did anything else, he would find his hosts.

            He opened the door of his room, which creaked a little on its hinges as it swung outwards.  It led into a high vaulted corridor, lit with lanterns hung high on the walls and chandeliers on the ceilings.  His was one of many doors along the corridor.  He could see nobody, but he could hear sounds in the distance.  Jack looked back and forth, then caught sight of a great set of double doors at one end of the corridor.

            Maybe he would find someone on the other side of those doors.  He stepped out of his room and closed that door, then took care to count how many rooms down he was so that he could find it again if he had to.  He walked up to the great double doors, his booted feet echoing on the stone floor.  As he got closer, the noises that had been so distant grew steadily louder.

            He came to the great doors and regarded the geometric patterns carved upon them for a few moments.  Then he grasped the bronze handle of one of the doors, put his thumb on the latch and pulled.  Outside he saw…

            It took his breath away.  The doors led onto a stone ledge that was bordered by a wooden fence.  The ledge was one of many along the walls of the huge cavern.  There were buildings, some built up from the cave floor (some of them were carved out of stalagmites!) and many more carved out of the cave walls.  Great columns, created by the meeting of gigantic stalagmites and stalactites, formed skyscrapers which twinkled from top to bottom with lighted windows.   Various bridges and walkways spanned the gaps between one building and another, or a building and a ledge.  The noise he had heard had come from here, the noise of a great number of people walking and talking and living, for this place was an underground metropolis.  Or maybe not underground – when he looked into the far distance he could see a ragged patch of blue sky.  He was both fascinated and very, very confused.

            "What are you doing up?" a voice demanded from behind him.  Jack spun around, hand on his sword hilt, and came face to face with a middle-aged woman in a dark blue robe.  He had been so distracted that he had not heard her approach.  She looked at his hand on his sword and raised an eyebrow at him.

            Feeling acutely embarrassed, Jack removed his hand from the sword hilt and bowed to her.  "Excuse me," he asked, "But can you please tell me where I am?"

"I can," the woman answered, "but I won't, not just yet. You need to get back to bed and rest. You had a rough time out there."
"I assure you, I feel fine."

The woman put her hands on her hips.  "I don't care, you still got a ways to go."  The frown on her face told him that she didn't have the patience for much more of such behavior.

Jack decided there was no point in arguing with her.  "As you wish," he conceded, and headed reluctantly back to his room.  She stayed outside while he put on the pyjamas again and got back into the bed, peeked inside the door.

"I'll get you something to eat in a few minutes," the woman informed him in a more kindly tone.
"I would appreciate that. Thank you."  With that, the woman nodded and closed the door, leaving him alone to wait and wonder.

~***~

Morwanneg closed the door and headed for the infirmary several doors down the hall.  One of her apprentices greeted her as she entered.  "He's up," Morwanneg informed him.

"That was sudden.  I thought it would take another day, at least…"

"So did I.  You know I found him wandering around just a minute ago?"

"Really?" her apprentice raised an eyebrow.  "After all that?  I'm impressed."

"I'm not.  He ought to have the sense to stay and rest.  But of course you can't expect someone who's crazy enough to climb Mount Fatoum to do anything that simple, oh no…"  Morwanneg stopped mid-complaint when she remembered something.  "Ah!  The King wanted to know when he woke up."  She went to a round mirror hanging on one wall and tapped it three times.  A face made of mist swirled into existence in the glass.

"Who are you calling please?" the face asked.
"The Dragon King."

"One moment."

In a few seconds, the image came up. "He's up, Your Majesty. Are you sure he's the one?"

On the other side of the mirror, the Dragon King nodded his crusted head.  "The Seer is never wrong," he rumbled.  "When can she talk to him?"

"Not just yet, Your Majesty.  In a few hours, perhaps, but until then he needs to rest."

"Very well.  Tell me when you think he is ready, and I will send the Seer to speak to him."