Free The Myst Reader by Robyn Miller Page A

There will be occasion for such things later.”
    Atrus stared at the intricate symbol a moment longer, then, hiding his disappointment, turned away, hurrying to catch up with his father.
    “We need to make up time,” Gehn said, as Atrus came alongside. “The journey is a long one and I have several experiments in progress. I must be back in time to see how they have developed.”
    “Experiments?” Atrus asked, excited by the sound of it. “What kind of experiments?”
    “Important ones,” Gehn answered, as if that were sufficient to satisfy his son’s curiosity. “Now hurry. There will be time to talk when we reach the first of the eder tomahn.”
    Atrus looked up at his father. “Eder tomahn?”
    Gehn glanced at his son as he strode on. “The eder tomahn are way stations. Rest houses, you might term them. In the days of the late empire there were plans to have commerce with the world of men. Such plans, fortunately, did not come to pass, yet the paths were forged through the earth and rest houses prepared for those D’ni messengers who would venture out.”
    Atrus looked back at his father, astonished. “And this tunnel? Is this D’ni?”
    Gehn shook his head. “No. This is simply a lava tube. Thousands of years ago, when the volcano was still active, hot lava ran through this channel, carving a passage to the surface.”
    Again Atrus felt a surge of disappointment. The walls of the tunnel had been so smooth, its shape so perfectly round, he had been sure it must have been the product of D’ni construction.
    “Yes,” Gehn continued, “but you will see things before our journey’s done that will make you forget this tiny wormhole. Now, come over to the left, Atrus, and get behind me. The tunnel slopes steeply just ahead.”
    Atrus did as he was told, keeping close behind his father, careful not to slip, his left hand keeping his balance against the curved wall of the lava tube, his sandaled feet gripping the hard, dry floor. All went well until, by chance, he turned and looked back up the tunnel. Then, with a sudden rush of understanding, he realized where he was. The darkness behind him seemed suddenly oppressive. Who knew what waited back there beyond the lantern’s glow?
    He turned back, realizing just how dependent on his father he was. If he were to lose himself down here …
    Ahead of him Gehn had stopped. “Slowly now,” he said, looking back at Atrus. “It ends just here. Now we go down The Well.”
    Atrus blinked, seeing how the tunnel ended in a perfect circle up ahead. Beyond it was simple blackness. He went out and stood beside his father on the narrow, crescent-shaped ledge, overwhelmed by the sight that met his eyes.
    In front of them lay a giant oval of blackness—a chasm so huge it seemed you could drop a whole volcano into it.
    The Well.
    Gehn raised his lamp, letting its light glint wetly off the far wall of the great shaft, revealing the massive striations of the rock, then pointed to his left.
    “Just there. See, Atrus? See the steps?”
    Atrus saw them, cut like the thread of a screw into the uneven sides of the great hole, but the thought of using them, of descending that vast shaft by their means, frightened him.
    Gehn looked to him. “Would you like to go first, Atrus, or shall I?”
    Atrus swallowed, then spoke, keeping the fear from his voice. “You’d better. You know the way.”
    “Yes,” Gehn said, giving his son a knowing smile. “I do, don’t I?”
    For the first hundred steps or so, the steps passed through a narrow tunnel cut into the edge of the chasm with only a thin gap low down by the floor to the right, but then, suddenly, the right-hand wall seemed to melt away and Atrus found himself out in the open, staring down into that massive well of darkness. Startled by the sight, he stumbled and his right sandal came away, toppling over the edge and into the darkness.
    He stood there a moment, gasping, his back against the wall, trying to regain his nerve. But