After leaving the cave, they followed the narrow path and entered another spacious area.

  “This is amazing.”

  Ivy looked around at the wall above, where many curved holes formed a honeycomb pattern. The path, illuminated by lamps, forked in two directions: one continued straight along the path they had been walking, and the other turned to the right. The other openings that appeared to be pathways were actually just holes. Below where they stood, there were layers of footholds. He assumed these weren’t man-made but formed naturally. The eagle, he thought, could have flown either up or down through the caves. It must have already left the mine.

  “Which way should we go?”

  Ivy asked. Tabby fell silent for a moment, then pulled a coin from his pocket.

  “Heads, we go straight; tails, we go right.”

  “I’ve heard people say that, but which side is heads?”

  Tabby frowned, slightly amused, and ignored Ivy’s question as he tossed the coin.

  “Heads.”

  “Straight it is, then. Let’s go.”

  They nodded to each other and continued along the path. It was so narrow that it barely fit one person. Ivy walked with his hand lightly touching one side of the wall. The smooth surface felt cool and comforting. He heard something in the distance. He expected it might be the eagle, but the sound was more systematic, not the kind a living creature would make.

  “Is that the sound of water?”

  “There might be a water channel leading to that subterranean lake.”

  “How deep and long has this mine been carved?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Ivy thought the path might end before they reached the exit, but he quickly dismissed the thought. They entered an even narrower section, the hardest part. He realized that not being able to stand upright made the exhaustion feel two or three times worse. He pushed forward, focused only on escaping the tight passage.

  Finally, they reached a larger space where they could stand again, meeting an upslope. To the left at their feet was a rope. The slope ahead was steep enough that they would need the rope to climb.

  “I’m totally fed up with all these ups and downs.”

  Tabby sighed. They were still in line, holding the rope, and began ascending the slope. The rustling sound grew louder and deeper as they went on.

  “Do you get used to climbing, since you live on a mountain?”

  Ivy asked, his eyes focused on the rope in his hand.

  “Not really. It’s true that the shrine is on a mountain, but I’ve mostly been stuck there since I was a baby. Besides, you can go up and down by car. I wasn’t allowed to leave the property for no reason. Beyond the shrine, past the grass field, was a deep forest.”

  “Because it’s a sacred place, you couldn’t leave?”

  “No, because it’s dangerous out there. Outside the property, there are sheer cliffs and fierce animals, too.”

  “Fierce animals? Like bears?”

  “Bears, and many others I don’t even know of. They attack humans when they feel threatened, or so I’ve heard.”

  Ivy had only heard about fierce animals in folklore. He had seen small creatures like mice or birds, which posed no harm to humans.

  “The closer you get to the wild land, the fiercer the animals are. The wild land is, of course, far from the shrine’s property, but there’s no clear boundary. You could wander close to it without realizing it and encounter one of those fierce animals.”

  “Have you seen one?”

  “No, I’ve only seen a goat—not fierce, but still dangerous when it gets upset. Once, while I was playing by the stream, I accidentally wandered deeper into the forest. I saw a goat drinking from the stream. The young one noticed me and ran away, jumping from rock to rock. Then, I saw a huge one—its parent, I think—standing with massive horns, staring at me. It must have charged if I had hurt the kid. But when it saw I wasn’t a threat, it walked off into the forest.”

  Ivy imagined the scene: a goat with beautiful horns by a stream. It felt like a very sacred moment.

  “Mr. Lansberge scolded me when I told him that story. He said I was lucky it wasn’t a bear. If it had been, I’d have been done for with one swipe of its paw. He told me he once encountered a fox, which is risky too, and he backed away all the way to the property to show he meant no harm. He was terrified. He’s always so cool and calm, but he mocked himself for panicking. It was really funny.”

  Ivy chuckled at Tabby’s mocking tone.

  “If I were him, I would’ve fainted. But I still want to see those animals, and of course, the wild creatures living in the wild lands.”

  Tabby laughed and paused, then said after a moment,

  “You’re such a dreamer. Of all the wild creatures, only birds can easily cross the border. They’re free, able to go beyond anything. That’s why birds are considered to show the way for people.”

  “So that’s why the symbol of the shrine is the eagle?”

  “Right, the eagle, the king of birds.”

  Ivy stopped walking, out of breath from talking so much. Tabby noticed and waited until Ivy caught his breath.

  “Speaking of which, I never said thank you,” Tabby murmured.

  “Thank me? For what?”

  “For the guitar. Thank you for bringing it back to me.”

  Ivy pretended to be busy catching his breath, only shrugging because he felt awkward yet relieved. They had reached the top of the slope, and the path curved to the left. Near the wall, a black box lay abandoned. Unlike the previous wooden one, this one was metallic and solid. A spark of hope arose inside him. Tabby immediately began investigating the box.

  “It might be a phone.”

  The lid was locked this time.

  “It’s locked…” Ivy muttered, feeling disappointed. Tabby pulled something from his pocket.

  “I borrowed this from the previous box.”

  It was a small, thick saw. Tabby started sawing the lock.

  “You borrowed it for this?” Ivy asked, surprised that he hadn’t noticed Tabby taking anything other than candy from the box. Tabby simply replied plainly, focused on his work. Ivy was impressed by Tabby’s quick thinking. Since the wooden box had a lock, Tabby must have guessed the next one might too, and he’d brought the saw, while Ivy had been discouraged by the contents. The lock fell to the ground with a cracking sound. As they had hoped, inside the box was a radio phone.

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  “Yes!” they both shouted in unison. Tabby quickly grabbed the receiver.

  “I’ve never seen a radio phone before.”

  “Me neither.”

  Tabby held the receiver to his ear and examined the phone closely.

  “No signal, I guess,” he said, placing the receiver back on the phone.

  “I thought we’d have to push a button or pull a lever, but there’s nothing on it.”

  Ivy inspected the phone closely. The surface was gleaming black and imposing, but there were no visible buttons or levers.

  “We have to keep searching for an exit.”

  Tabby stood up, his face tight with tension. Their despair was deep, especially since they had once held onto hope.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He said it again, feeling profoundly sorry for involving Tabby in this situation.

  “I said, don’t say sorry.”

  Tabby turned his back, fury in his eyes. Ivy nodded helplessly. He knew there was nothing to be gained by apologizing. He needed to find a solution, not keep apologizing. Just as Ivy turned left, Tabby, who had been walking ahead, stopped suddenly. Ivy caught up with him and gasped in disbelief. Ahead of them was not a path, but a cliff. Below, there was nothing but complete darkness.

  “It looks like a cave-in happened.”

  The rope was anchored to the wall right next to Ivy. Lamps were fixed to the ceiling at regular intervals. The path must have continued before the footing was lost. The rustling sound they had been hearing grew louder, now accompanied by a rumbling noise. It seemed like there was a waterfall below the cliff. The bottom was deep, and all they could hear was the deafening roar of the water, as though it were rejecting them. Ivy stared into the darkness, stunned.

  “We can’t go on. Let’s go back to the fork.”

  Tabby placed his hand on Ivy’s shoulder and spoke. They turned and headed back toward the radio phone. Tabby grabbed the rope and began climbing down.

  “Come quickly. This footing isn’t safe either.”

  Ivy nodded and grabbed the rope as well. He had once hoped that if they kept searching, they might find a phone or an exit. But now, seeing the dead end before him, that hope had vanished. He felt real fear settling in. Tabby must have felt the same, as his face had gone pale. Exhaustion, which he had been avoiding, had finally caught up with Ivy. His legs felt like lead. Walking back down the same path to the fork and taking another route—what would that lead to? What would be ahead? After struggling to walk, might they only encounter more despair? He pushed the thought aside. The only thing he could do was keep moving with hope. They had to escape this cave. His hand, gripping the rope, trembled. It was growing colder, and he had no idea how much time had passed since they entered the mine. It might already be evening outside. He carefully checked where to place his foot.

  “Whoa!”

  His foot landed on a rock and slipped. He tried to hold onto the rope, but his grip wasn’t strong enough to support his weight, and he let go. He couldn’t help but roll downslope, with Tabby ahead of him, until they both reached the bottom.

  “Sorry!”

  Ivy quickly raised his upper body and apologized to Tabby. His palms and knees were scratched and aching.

  “Tabby?”

  Tabby lay on his side with his eyes closed, silent.

  “Tabby, are you okay?”

  Had he hit a bad spot? Ivy’s heart raced. He reached his hand toward Tabby, cautiously.

  “Shh.”

  Tabby hushed him, still keeping his eyes closed.

  “I hear a sound.”

  Ivy felt relieved to know Tabby was okay. He closed his eyes and listened carefully. He could hear the rumbling of a waterfall not far off, and within that sound, there was a high-pitched tone echoing.

  “The eagle!”

  “Yeah, it’s apparently still here.”

  Tabby sat up. His face was covered in dirt, and the crumbs of vanamond were glowing on it. The high-pitched sound came again. He couldn’t tell how far away it was just by the sound.

  “That fellow’s probably lost, too, and is crying, maybe.”

  Tabby grinned, and Ivy did too.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No. Just a scratch. Let’s go.”

  Tabby stood up. Ivy pushed himself to his feet with great effort. He wanted to lie down right there; exhaustion and cold had almost reached their limit. Tabby must have been just as exhausted as Ivy, he thought to himself, as he took a step forward. The way back felt shorter than the outward journey. The narrow path seemed less harsh now that he had a sense of how long it took. They came to a wide, open area, and the space itself eased his aching body and tiredness. Tabby walked ahead toward the fork in the path, not caring that Ivy wanted to rest for a while.

  “Wait.”

  Ivy hurried to catch up with Tabby. The other path was relatively straight and flat. Tabby walked with purpose, placing one foot in front of the other without a word. Ivy realized that Tabby wasn’t walking quickly because he was upset, but because once he stopped moving, he might never be able to move again. Ivy knew this feeling because he was experiencing it too. Thanks to Tabby’s persistence, Ivy managed to keep going despite his weakened legs.

  They reached a dead end after walking in silence. The path disappeared, and a handrail blocked their way. They leaned over it and looked down into a deep, dark abyss below.

  We’re done, Ivy thought. He felt more fear about not being able to help Tabby than about being stuck himself. Tabby, however, was carefully examining the abyss, while Ivy turned pale, unable to think clearly. Ivy wondered what Tabby was looking at. Beyond the handrail, there was a metallic cage, each side about his height, leading deep down into the darkness.

  “In the factory, there’s someone who used to work in a vanamond mine,” Tabby began, still staring at the cage.

  “He said there’s a lift installed in the mine shaft. They use it to haul up chunks of vanamond.”

  Tabby looked up. Ivy held on to the hem of Tabby’s shirt to keep him from falling as he raised his chin to get a better look. The ceiling was so high that he couldn’t see it all, but the metal cage stretched far upward, disappearing into the shadows.

  “Could this be the lift?”

  “A basket filled with vanamond is hoisted up through the cage. The basket must be down there now, I guess.”

  Ivy followed Tabby’s explanation. Inside the cage, a thick wire ran from above down into the depths. It must have been connected to the basket, wound up by a mechanism to move it.

  “That means if we climb up along the cage, we might reach an exit.”

  The word exit made Ivy’s heart leap.

  “Our teacher told us about lifts,” Ivy said, his voice quickening. “They use a winch to wind the wire. But… I don’t see anything like that here.”

  He didn’t even need to look around. There was nothing—just a plain handrail.

  “It must be at the top. But look.”

  Tabby pointed to the right side of the cage. A series of footholds ran all the way up.

  “There’s a ladder for emergencies. I think we can use it to climb to the top.”

  “Right, right! That’s it!”

  Ivy almost jumped in excitement. The sudden hope chased away his weariness and the cold.

  “Let’s go!”

  He reached for the ladder, but then noticed Tabby was calm and unmoving.

  “When you get out of the mine… can you call for help?”

  Ivy froze, surprised.

  “I don’t think I can make it,” Tabby said.

  Ivy’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t noticed—Tabby had been clutching his right wrist with his other hand. He must have hurt it when they tumbled down the slope. His face was pale, and his lips pressed tightly together as he bore the pain. Seeing Ivy speechless, he grinned.

  “I’m just worried if you can make it. You’re so slow.”

  Ivy nodded vigorously.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get there. I promise.”

  He was excited—finally, he could be of some help. He leaned over the handrail, grabbed one of the ladder’s steps, and quickly shifted his weight onto it. When he placed his other foot, it made a dry, metallic sound.

  As if encouraging him, a high-pitched cry echoed—almost like singing. The eagle was somewhere inside.

  “Mind your step.”

  He nodded to Tabby, turned his body, and stepped out of the cage. Moving his right hand to the next rung, he began to climb the ladder, step by step. Each time he ascended, his weight shifted to one side, and he carefully gripped the step to keep from slipping. It was a long way to the top. But at the end of this, there had to be an exit—that thought kept him going.

  He had climbed about twenty steps when he looked down. He had tried not to, but couldn’t help himself. Far below on his left, he saw Tabby standing, looking up at him, though he could have been sitting instead.

  “Don’t look down!”

  Ivy snapped his gaze back upward. One step, then another. All he could hear now was his own breathing, the rustling of his clothes, and the clanging of his footsteps. Together, they formed a metronomic rhythm. As long as he followed it, he felt like he could keep climbing forever. His fear, his exhaustion—they all faded. Nothing mattered now but the next step.

  Behind the ladder, the wall of luminous vanamond glowed. It felt as if he were climbing into a starry sky. One step, then another. His hand reached out to grab the next rung—only to slash through empty air.

  He had reached the end.

  To his left, a hole opened in the wall, just like the one he had entered through. A cool breeze caressed his cheek.

  This is it!

  He snapped back to the moment, his heart surging with excitement.

  “Tabby! I made it!”

  “Good! Shift your body to the exit carefully.”

  Tabby’s voice sounded farther away than he expected. Ivy reached out with his left hand and touched the side wall.

  —It’s fine. All I have to do is shift my weight left, quickly—

  he thought. But just as he began to lean, a rumbling sound echoed through the pit, shaking the ladder violently. His left hand and both feet slipped, leaving him barely hanging by his right hand.

  The entire shaft trembled with an eerie, booming echo. The ladder resonated with it, rattling as if trying to throw him off.

  —I’m going to fall.

  For the first time since entering the cave, raw fear seized him. A cold, crawling sensation raced from his toes to his head. His heart pounded.

  —I’m scared.

  If he fell… what would happen to Tabby? He hoped Tabby’s hand would heal so he could escape on his own. Ivy reached up with his left hand, trying to grab a rung—when the rumbling came again.

  The ladder shook him loose.

  —I’m dying.

  He shut his eyes tight. Somewhere in the distance, the eagle cried out, high and clear.