you go the other way, the chasm just gets deeper.”
Elam looked in the direction the gatekeeper pointed. “So that way is the wrong way, right?”
Glewlwyd shrugged. “I am not sure, and you should not care. The bridge provides the key to entering Heaven’s altar, so it would be foolish to go any other way. It is a fearsome path, to be sure, and only those with a perfected heart are able to cross, but it is the only path that guarantees the destination.”
“What happens to travelers who try to find the safer passage?”
The old man shook his head. “I have heard of travelers who search and never find their way back to the bridge. A wrong choice could lead to an eternity of wandering.”
“That doesn’t make sense. All they would have to do is turn around and follow the edge of the chasm back to the bridge.”
Glewlwyd pointed at him and winked. “In your world, yes, but here you must get accustomed to many new realities … and new dangers.”
“I hope the dangers aren’t any worse than the Caitiff.” Elam laid the spyglass in the bag and patted the side. “I don’t have any weapons.”
“I suggest preparing your mind for obstacles far more deadly.” The old man’s body began to disappear, becoming transparent again as his voice faded. “You already have the greatest of weapons.”
The moment Glewlwyd vanished, Elam shifted his bag higher on his shoulder and marched straight toward the chasm. As he whisked past the flowers, a new fragrance buoyed his senses, a fresh, lively aroma the wildflowers in Hades could only dream of creating.
Light seemed to emanate from somewhere over a forested hill beyond the chasm. The top of that rise would be a good place to get a view of the entire area and plan the rest of his journey.
As he drew closer to the chasm, it seemed to grow wider and wider, so wide that when he finally reached it, he felt like a mouse at the edge of the Grand Canyon. The span was nothing more than a simple rope bridge with parallel ropes on top and bottom and loose or broken boards tied between the lower pair, barely wide enough for walking. A stiff breeze blew through the chasm, swinging the bridge as its arch dangled over the massive gap.
Elam peered down the sheer drop. No bottom was in sight. Even though the opposite cliff was far away, the two sheer walls seemed to meet in the nebulous distance below. The odd perspective dizzied his brain. He had to lurch backwards just to keep from falling in.
Pulling out his spyglass again, Elam searched both directions, but, just as the gatekeeper had warned, there was no shallow passage in sight.
He tapped the spyglass on his head. According to Glewlwyd the bridge guaranteed his destination, something about providing a key to the altar, but he didn’t say going the safer route made it impossible to get there. Should he chance a guess and look for the passage? Choosing right would give him a safer road, but choosing wrong could mean being lost forever.
Elam sighed. It would be a foolish risk to go any other way. If the bridge provided the key to the altar, he had to go out and get it, no matter how impossible it seemed.
A soft voice drifted into his ears. “Take care, young man. The bridge is dangerous.”
Elam spun around. A woman wearing a hooded red cloak stood before him. Her velvet sleeves covered all but the ends of her fingers, and only her bare toes were visible at the bottom of her cape. As she pulled back her hood, wavy brown hair spilled over her shoulders and framed a lovely young face.
“Thank you for the warning,” Elam said, bowing, “but this is the only way I’ve seen to get across.”
She extended her hand toward the bridge, exposing a slender arm. “I have watched hundreds fall into the chasm, but there is a safer passage. I have led many travelers such as yourself across.”
Elam looked back at the bridge. “I think I’ll take my chances this way.”
Her voice stayed soft and smooth. “Only those with a perfected heart are able to cross the bridge. Do you judge yourself more capable than the great men who have attempted passage and fallen?”
“I’m not comparing myself to anyone. Since I haven’t seen any of these men you’re talking about, I have no basis on which to judge.”