Chapter 4

         The door was smooth and cold against Ari's back and fingers. He took in a gasping breath and pushed himself away from its glossy surface. His mouth was horribly dry and the deepening darkness caused him to shudder. He had always loathed the dark without reason, but this darkness seemed somehow colder and more menacing than the darkness he knew in the village. Ever afterwards, he swore he could hear echoing footsteps and boys voices crying out for help, all faint and far away. He forced himself to move away from the door. He knew he had to reach the other side of the room, but what would follow was a mystery to him. After what seemed like hours of taking hesitant steps one in front of the other, and countless murmured prayers of direction so he would not get lost, Ari gasped with joy at the sight of a glimmer of light ahead of him.
         ”That must be the other side!” he sighed in relief and began to run toward the light. The light grew at an astonishing rate, and before he had expected to reach it, he stepped through a doorway and into an awesome hall.
The corridor was lit with thousands of unseen lamps that caused the gems on the walls to dance and sparkle more brilliantly than the glitter that flashes from the sea on the brightest of days. More spectacular than even the gems of that room, were the images. Paintings and sculptures more perfect than the greatest of artists could produce, burst from the walls, dazzling Ari and taking his breath away. He stopped and gazed at each piece of art along the hall, each one becoming more beautiful than the last, and all of strange places and beings Ari had never seen nor heard of. The closer he came to the door at the end of the hall, the larger and more splendid the artwork became, and the harder it became for him to move on to the next piece. At last, he came to the very last sculpture of all. It was much larger than he, and stood proudly in the center of the walk way. Gems shone from the two eyes of the face, and the richest cloth Ari had ever seen, was draped over its shoulder. The figure was that of a woman, a stranger and more terribly beautiful woman than any in the world. She glared fixedly down upon the boy, a strange smile upon her face. Though he knew she was made of wood or stone, Ari could not help but feel that she was alive. He could almost see the rise and fall of her chest, and the surface looked so smooth and soft, he almost thought that it must be skin. Each eyelash and pore was worked to perfection. The sight was astonishing.
         Ari knew he should not touch the statue, but his hand was drawn to it as if it were a magnent. The instant his skin touched the stone he felt as if all the heat had been sucked from his body. He wrenched his hand away and fell, panting, to the floor. He heard a movement and looked up in horror. He saw the statue moving, flexing muscles and shaking its head as if coming out of a deep sleep. Ari got up and scampered towards the door. As he reached the door, he could not resist a look back. The frighteningly beautiful woman was gliding swiftly towards him, a nasty smile on her face.
         "Come back, little one. Don't you want to play?"
Ari shook his head and pulled the handle of the door. The door was heavier than he expected and barely moved.
         "Don't open the door, boy."
         Ari strained to pull open the door and squeezed through the opening. The statue leapt forward, snarling.
         "Come back here! I'm hungry!"
The last thing Ari saw before slamming the door was evil, shap teeth bared in his face. There was a thud as the statue crashed into the door and Ari heard a terrible scream as it broke and crumbled onto the floor.
         Gasping for air, Ari looked around this new room. It was empty and dim, but he could just make out the shape of a table in the center of the room. After he caught his breath, he approached it cautiously, still shaking from his last encounter. He saw that there was something glowing on top of the table. As he neared the table, saw it was book lying closed on its back. The table was small, round, and about as wide as a dinner plate, but it was nearly as tall as Ari so the book was level with his eyes. Hestitant to touch anything, Ari circled the table cautiously, searching the room for anything dangerous. He carfully observed the table itself, being sure to not get too close. There were ornate patterns twisting up the legs and running along the edge. Ari thought some of the shapes looked like words, but they were not like any letters he had learned to read. After many minutes of deliberation, he could not think of anything else he should do, but to pick up the book. As he reached out his arms, the table suddenly grew higher and he felt something sting his hand. A sharp cry escaped his throat and his eyes burned with startled tears. The table loomed above him now and seemed to be snickering at him. Ari set his jaw in determination. He turned as if to walk away, then whirled around and made a swipe for the book. The table had lowered almost to the floor and Ari stumbled over it. It exclaimed,
         "Nice try, kid!" and gave an unpleasant chuckle.
         Ari jumped on the table and it began to rise and fall violently in an effort to buck him off. Ari clung desperately to the edge, but soon felt something burning his hands. He swept the book off the table as he let go, and sailed across the room. He hit the floor hard and lay motionless for several seconds, his lungs refusing to breathe. Finally, he was able to breathe again and sat up. The book lay a few feet from his body. He crawled to it and picked it up. The little light that had been in the room immediately was extinguished and Ari grasped the book as he felt his way slowly towards where he thought he remembered seeing a door. His heart pounded painfully and he flinched at each small noise. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he felt a doorhandle under his searching fingers. He clutched it in relief and pulled open the door. It was the door he had come in a few minutes before. There lay chunks and shards of the statue that had chased him scattered across the floor. Ari groaned in frustration. Leaving the door open he turned around and searched the walls of the book room for another door. There were none. Remembering the wagon, he searched the floor. Not even a crack met his frantic gaze. He sadly returned to the ominously glittering hall.
         Avoiding the rubble of his near escape, he chose a seat along the wall. He examined the book he had obtained in the bright light. It was small, old, and dusty. the cover was smudged and tattered. It appeared to have once been a brilliant shade of scarlet, but had faded into a dull, pinkish brown. there was no title or mark on either cover.
         Ari reverently opened the book. The pages inside showed few marks of age. Some of the corners and edges were browned and crinkled, but the middle of thepages were ivory white, and smooth. The ink, in many vibrant colors, was still sharp and clean. Ari had never seen such a wonderful book. There were incredibly detailed, lifelike pictures every few pages and large, ornate letters beginning each paragraph. Ari did not begin to read right away, he just turned page after page in awe and took in the beauty of the book. After a while, Ari began to comprehend what the words were saying. They told the story of how the Prayermakers began. Ari carefully turned back to the beginning and read deeply. He did not understand much of it, but read it all eagerly. The story itself was not very long, but there were hundreds of pages fillled with names and dates and hundreds more waiting to be filled.
         What follows is the story Ari read.