Leela, still maintaining her silence, brought out covered trays of food, and Arthur eagerly lifted the lids. He was greatly disappointed to discover the trays were empty.
“Help yourselves,” the Cloud Master said. “My daughter is a wonderful cook.”
“But there’s nothing there!” Arthur burst out.
The Cloud Master laughed. “Nothing you can see. But just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not there. Look again.”
Arthur did as he was told, and this time he saw a faint, cloudy mist rising from the tray. He put his finger in the mist, and sure enough, something was there. It felt like Jell-O, only less solid. Cautiously he lifted his finger to his mouth.
“Delicious!” was all he could bring himself to say, because he was too busy scooping up the rest of the nearly invisible meal.
It tasted like nothing he had ever tasted before. Like sponge cake that was lighter than air, but different. It wasn’t sweet or sour or bitter. It didn’t taste like fruit or vegetable, meat or dairy.
It tasted, Arthur finally decided, like clouds.
“Eat your fill,” the Cloud Master urged him.
Arthur was thrilled. Meanwhile, Morf lapped at his tray and purred with contentment.
As they dined, the Cloud Master spoke about his people.
“Our legends are very important to our people. They are the keys to the truths we know. They tell us that the first of us came from the World Below. We had no wings then, no power of flight. But we did have enemies—four-legged beasts with mighty fangs—and the beasts chased us into the sky. Which means, I think, that many thousands of years ago, our ancestors began migrating into the mountains, looking for a safe place to live. As you know, it is very difficult to survive up here unless you fly, and after much hardship and many generations, our ancestors were given the gift of flight.
“But as you see,” the Cloud Master said, unfurling his wings, “we are not birds. We cannot simply flap off a perch and fly wherever we desire. We must glide and soar, using the air and the wind to lift us. If I should venture to glide too low beneath the clouds,” he said, cutting a look at his daughter, “I might never be able to get back to the World Above. I would be lost, spiraling down and down. Even if I survived, I would have to spend the rest of my life in the World Below and walk upon the ground as the other creatures do.”
“Like us,” Morf piped up.
The Cloud Master coughed delicately. “Well, yes,” he admitted. “Like you. I mean no offense, but for those of us born with flight, life on the ground is unimaginable.”
“I wish I had wings,” said Arthur wistfully. “If I had wings, I’ll bet I could find my way home.”
“Is that why you came to the World Above? To find your way home?” the Cloud Master asked.
Arthur explained, as best he could, what had happened after he had come up out of his own basement and found himself in another world. How he’d met Morf and how he’d been taken in by the Frog People. When he mentioned the problem with the liquid darkness leaking into his basement, the Cloud Master looked as if he’d been slapped in the face.
“The Nothing!” he exclaimed. “It can’t be!”
“See for yourself,” said Arthur, holding out the wristwatch.
The Cloud Master studied the image lurking inside the wristwatch. When he saw that the liquid darkness was still there, flooding into the basement where Arthur’s Other Self slept on, oblivious to danger, he groaned and covered the watch face.
“It’s true,” he said. “The Nothing has found a way in. What else did the Frog People say?”
“They said if I got back home then I wouldn’t be in two places at once, and the Nothing would stop rising.”
The Cloud Master nodded. “The Frog People must be very wise. We, too, have legends about the Nothing. It is said that one day the Nothing will leak into our world, and every world, and it will keep on filling up the universe until all the stars go dark, and then Everything will cease to exist. The universe, all life, all light, will be no more. Of course it may only be a legend. Maybe what we see in the watch is simply an illusion.”
“Oh, I hope so!” Arthur said. “Maybe it doesn’t matter if I didn’t read the instructions and left that stupid helmet behind!”
Leela rattled a tray impatiently. She had been forbidden to talk, so all she could do was rattle the dishes and scowl until her father finally paid attention.
“Yes, my dear,” he said kindly. “Of course you may speak, assuming, of course, that you have something to say.”
“I have something to say, all right!” Leela said hotly. “And what I say is this: The Nothing isn’t a legend or a fairy tale. The Nothing is real. I saw it only yesterday! I didn’t know what it was at the time, but now I’m sure. That’s why I thought the World Below didn’t exist. Because the Nothing is already here!”
For once, the Cloud Master was speechless.
“Please,” Arthur asked. “Tell us what you saw.”
And so she did.
“OF ALL THE CLOUD PEOPLE, I am the best flyer,” Leela said calmly. The candlelight made her eyes sparkle. “I know where all the updrafts are, and how to use the rising air to soar as high and as far as any of the Cloud People have ever flown.
“Ever since I was a small child, I have heard the legends of the World Below,” she continued. “Yesterday morning, I decided to go look for it with my own eyes—”
“Leela!” her father interrupted. On his face was an expression of great concern. “It is forbidden! You know that!”
“Nevertheless,” said Leela, “I was determined. And the winds from below were especially favorable, so I set off with three of my friends—”
“Leela! You endangered your friends? How could you do such a thing?”
“Father, may I continue?” Leela said it patiently, as if she had expected him to keep interrupting.
“Of course,” he said with a sigh.
“We dared each other. Who was brave enough to venture to the World Below? Each of us spoke of our courage, but none of us wanted to go alone. So we decided to go together. And we did. I led the way, soaring out to the great cloud canyons of the east, where the mountains are steepest. The clouds were thin yesterday morning, and we could see down many miles. We circled lower and lower. And four of us were frightened, but no one spoke of fear. We knew that we must find powerful updrafts, or we could never return to the World Above.”
“Oh, Leela,” whispered her father. “How could you?”
“One by one my friends gave up, catching updrafts and returning to the height of the sky. I didn’t blame them for being afraid, because I was afraid, too. But something inside me wanted to see the World Below even more than it wanted to give up and go home. And so I continued to spiral down. I flew lower, still, into an area of twilight, where the peaks of the mountains block the light of the sun—”
“No one has ever flown that low!” Her father was clearly anguished.
“I have,” Leela told him. “I flew that low and much lower, too. Because I could see something deeper still, far below the shadows of twilight. Something that seemed to know I was there. Something that beckoned me. Something that whispered inside my head, like the faintest whisper of wind.”
“Our legends speak of those voices!” her father cried. “They issue from Vydel’s Mouth, at the very bottom of the World Below.”
“Yes,” said Leela. “And the voices seemed to be saying, ‘Come to us. Come to us and be happy. Come to us and stay forever.’ The voices frightened me even more than the fear of never getting back to the World Above. So I leveled off my flight and soared over a great chasm. A chasm opening out of the darkness, with giant stone pyres that rose like the white fangs of some terrible beast.”
“Vydel’s Mouth!” her father exclaimed. “You saw it!”
“Yes. But deep inside it, I saw something worse. Much worse.”
Leela paused, and Arthur and Morf leaned forward expectantly, as if they both knew
what she was about to say.
“I saw the Nothing,” she said quietly. “It bubbles up from the chasm—from what the legends call Vydel’s Mouth—and it floods out over the very bottom of the world. And where the Nothing touches, nothing remains. That is why I told you that the World Below does not exist. Because the part I saw—the very lowest part—exists no longer.”
“It is the beginning of the end,” her father said with great sadness. “The Nothing has found a way in.”
“How did you get back?” Arthur asked eagerly.
“I circled above the chasm for many hours. Never dipping any lower, but never getting any higher, either. Finally, at the very edge of the chasm, I came upon a faint updraft. I could feel the warmth of it under my wings, and it carried me upward. When the updraft faded, I veered as close to the mountains as I dared, and there I found another updraft. And another. Eventually I was lifted out of the shadows and into the sunlight, and then it was easy to find the rising air. At last I came to this very precipice, and knew I’d finally made it home. I wept like a child. And then, today, I found Arthur.”
Leela sat with her hands folded, waiting for her father’s reaction. He stared solemnly at her for a long time, and then he sighed deeply. “You are no longer a child. That should have been obvious to me, I suppose. But it is never easy for a father to watch his daughter grow up.”
“You’ll always be my father,” Leela said softly. “That will never change.”
The Cloud Master opened his wings and wrapped them around Leela. “And you are the best daughter ever,” he said.
Arthur heard someone sobbing.
It was Morf. Tears were streaming from his large brown eyes. “Don’t mind me,” the little creature said. “I always cry when I’m happy.”
“Happy! The Nothing is going to eat up the whole universe. How can you be happy?” Arthur demanded.
Morf wiped away a tear and then looked Arthur right in the eye. “Because you’re going to stop it,” he said. “That’s why.”
“BUT I DON’T KNOW how to get home!” Arthur exclaimed.
Morf shrugged his furry little body, as if that was the answer he expected to hear.
“Silence!” said the Cloud Master. In his voice was such authority that all of them immediately grew still.
In the silence, Arthur watched the star-twinkle of the candles, and he also watched the Cloud Master, who closed his eyes and was obviously deep in thought.
When he spoke at last, the Cloud Master was so quiet, Arthur had to listen very, very hard.
“There is another legend,” he began. “A legend so terrible that we do not speak of it. It is the legend of the end. It is about the visitor who will come from another world. It is said that the Nothing will follow him. It is also said that this visitor has two choices. The first is to do nothing, and if he does nothing, the end must come. The Nothing will rise and devour everything, even the clouds in the sky, and the Cloud People will be no more.
“The visitor’s second choice is to do battle with the Nothing, and in some versions of the legend, the visitor wins. In other versions, he fails, and the end comes even sooner.”
The Cloud Master paused, waiting until silence again filled the chamber. “Which do you choose?” he asked, looking directly at Arthur.
“How can I choose when I don’t know what to do?” asked Arthur, who was more confused now than he had ever been in his life. “First the Frog People tell me I must find a way home. Now you tell me I must do battle with the Nothing and, even if I do, I might fail.”
“It is very difficult,” the Cloud Master agreed. “But if my understanding of the legend is correct, there is only one way to find your way home.”
“How do I get there?”
“Through Vydel’s Mouth,” the Cloud Master said.
“I might have known,” Arthur said sarcastically. “Naturally it would be someplace impossible.”
“Not quite impossible,” the Cloud Master corrected him. “There is a way for you to enter Vydel’s Mouth.”
“What way is that?” Arthur asked, even though he was afraid to hear the answer.
“You must learn to fly.”
· · ·
It was time to sleep.
Arthur was so perplexed and excited at the idea of learning to fly that he was sure he’d never sleep again. But when Morf curled up beside him on a blanket made of the softest down imaginable, Arthur’s eyelids grew heavy, and he was soon fast asleep.
In his dreams, he floated through the sky, eating small, delicious clouds that tasted like pancakes. And the more he ate, the thinner he got.
· · ·
Leela woke him before dawn. “We mustn’t be late,” she said. “Being late for sunrise brings the worst kind of luck.”
Arthur was shivering when he got up. Nights were cold at the top of the world, and as soon as he stood up, he missed the comforting warmth of the blanket. He made the mistake of saying so.
“Oh, bring the blanket if you’re going to be such a sissy,” Leela said in a huff. “But whatever you do, hurry!”
Arthur followed her out of the cave, wearing the blanket like a robe of wings. His breath made little clouds in the starlight.
“Brrrr!” said Morf. “I’m glad I’ve got fur!”
“I wish I had fur,” Arthur muttered. He felt ridiculous wrapped in the blanket, but he still wasn’t willing to leave it behind.
The Cloud Master had assembled his people at the edge of the precipice. Arthur was relieved to see that he wasn’t the only one shivering. He didn’t know what was dumber: getting up before the sun or going outside when it was so cold it made your nose numb.
He was thinking about sneaking back to bed, when all of a sudden the sky changed. One moment a billion stars twinkled like diamonds in the sky; then a flash of pale green light suddenly washed away all but the three brightest stars.
“It begins!” the Cloud Master called out, raising his arms wide. “Morning is born!”
A blaze of orange sliced along the horizon like a hot knife. As sleepy and cold as he was, Arthur had to admit it was a beautiful sight. The sun really did look as if it had just been born, climbing fresh and new out of the darkness, making the whole sky glow with the promise of life.
“Our Mother has risen,” the Cloud Master announced. “Her warmth makes the clouds, and the clouds make us. Let us give thanks to our Mother.”
“Thank you, Mother,” his people sang.
The Cloud People slowly unfurled their wings, which glowed like flower petals in the pale green light of the rising sun. Without thinking about it, Arthur spread wide his arms and let the blanket fall away, as if he, too, were opening his wings. He felt lighter than he’d ever felt before. Light enough to fly, if only he knew how.
“Don’t get any crazy ideas,” Morf whispered. “There’s no such thing as a flying biscuit.”
“What are you talking about?” Arthur asked.
“I noticed the gleam in your eye,” Morf said. “Like you thought you were lighter than air.”
“Oh, shut up,” Arthur said.
“Fine,” said Morf, folding his little arms.
And that’s when Leela and the Cloud Master came over and told him it was time.
“Time for what?” Arthur asked.
“Time to learn how to fly,” Leela told him.
“Or die trying,” the Cloud Master added.
“FIRST YOU MUST be strong,” the Cloud Master told him. “Strong enough to lift your own weight.”
“Oh no,” said Arthur despondently, because he knew what that meant. Pull-ups. And he couldn’t do even one pull-up. Every time he had tried and failed, the other children had given him a new nickname. Fat Boy, Lardo, Jelly Belly, it never seemed to end.
“Sorry, but I can’t do pull-ups,” Arthur said in a small voice.
“Nonsense,” Morf snapped, flicking his furry tail. “You pulled yourself into the boat when I yelled, ‘Shark!’”
“That only works
if I believe it.”
“Then believe it,” the Cloud Master said ominously. “Go on, try.”
The Cloud Master held out one of his arms, indicating that Arthur should grab hold and use it as a chinning bar.
“But I can’t,” Arthur whined.
“No whining,” said the Cloud Master. “Just do it.”
Arthur tried, but he couldn’t budge himself from the ground.
“Try the feather,” the Cloud Master suggested to Leela.
Leela grinned. She produced a small feather and began to tickle Arthur’s ankles. Arthur hated to be tickled, and he started to kick. Before he knew it, his chin was over the Cloud Master’s arm.
“Splendid,” said the Cloud Master. “Now try it without the feather.”
“Oh please, Father,” Leela protested. “I love tickling him. Look at him squirm.”
“Leela!”
She sighed and put the feather away.
Arthur pulled himself up. It wasn’t really that difficult, for some reason. “Maybe I’m lighter up here at the top of the world,” he said.
“Come on, do another,” said the Cloud Master. “Very good. Another.”
And Arthur managed to chin himself eleven times before his fingers slipped and he fell to the ground. He was so pleased that he didn’t mind landing smack on his backside.
“He can’t be Mr. Biscuit anymore,” Morf decided. “The boy needs a new name.”
“Excellent idea,” said the Cloud Master. “Any suggestions?”
Morf gave it some thought. “The Wingless Wonder?”
“More like the Brainless Wonder,” Leela muttered.
“No, no,” the Cloud Master said, rubbing his chin. “He needs a proper name. Never mind. It will come to me.”
“We could call him Rocks-In-His-Head,” Leela muttered. “Or Pancake.”
“Watch your tongue, young lady,” said the Cloud Master sternly.
When her father wasn’t looking, Leela stuck out her tongue and pretended to look at it. Which made her beautiful eyes cross, and that got Arthur laughing.