1801, Kingdom of Cambodia

Coppelius Ollukoy stared at the sunlight reflecting off the damp cave walls as it feathered down in beams through narrow cracks in the ceiling. It was not enough to keep plants alive, but more than enough light for him to see the three-inch cockroach merrily crawling over his wet boot.

Professor Roux De Breijin, the famed antiquarian, needed a new assistant. What a fine opportunity to see the world and gain your own renown! Words he and his classmates had bandied about.  All of them tried for the position, taking test after test until, finally, it was Coppelius who won the honor.

Some honor. He shook his boot, flinging aside the cockroach.

At least this is worth that damn trek. He shrugged off the heavy pack he carried up the mountainside for the last hour. They had endured a two-day elephant ride from Phnom Oudong through a jungle where leeches dropped out of the trees as they made their way to the bottom of the mountain. All because a ridiculous letter hinted at something Greek hidden in Cambodia.

"Well, look at that, Coppelius." The Professor waved an arm around what was a roomy cave despite them having crawled in through a small hole. He wiped the grime on his pant legs and he stared at the ceiling. "There is enough light we shall need fewer lanterns."

"So there is, Professor," Coppelius studied the floor under the cracks. No water pooled there, though it was damp.

All of Cambodia is damp.

The professor clapped his hands. Coppelius flinch at the sudden sound.

"Perfect!" He rubbed his hands together with a grin and pointed to the flattest part of the cave floor."We shall set up our day camp here."

"Yes, Professor." Coppelius hauled the pack to where the professor pointed. None of their Cambodian bearers would climb the mountain, even with a handsome bribe. It was "hamkhat", or forbidden, so Coppelius had to do all the miserable work. Such was the life of an assistant.

The Professor watched Coppelius set up the canvas tent, unfold the canvas stool, and light the only lantern that had fit in the pack. "Do be a good lad and fetch up the rest of our things, Coppelius." He sat on the stool. "I will see to things here."

"Yes, Professor." Coppelius withheld a groan until he was headed back to camp.

Three more trips up and down the mountain he went, taking an hour to climb each way with muscles that only ached more with each climb. Each time he crawled into the cave on elbows and hips to fit the pack through the small hole. By the time Coppelius unpacked the last load with a back so sore it had gone stiff, his clothes seemed more mud than cloth, and it was almost evening. But, the day camp was complete.

"Well, after such a vigorous day, let's get back down for a spot of supper," The Professor cheerfully announced and led the way to their main camp with a jaunty spring in every stride. Coppelius, keeping silent, trudged after him on aching legs.

The next day, after the rain shower during breakfast, it was back up to the cave. This time, Coppelius carried his own pack. Lighter and smaller than the one from yesterday, it almost felt like nothing was there.

The Professor's, of course, waited for him at the day camp. Still, he did carry something up the mountain – a small book that bulged out a pocket.

Since when did the Professor have a little book? I do all his research and paperwork and I have never seen a little book.

When they reached the cave, the professor sat on his stool and flipped through it.

Coppelius noticed there were several papers creased like letters folded in amongst the pages. He narrowed his eyes. So the Professor had been doing his own research. The letter he had ME research might have been used to distract me from seeing other letters HE researched.

The Professor closed the book, dropped it back into his pocket, and stood up. "Well, that little rest was rather refreshing," He fetched his small pack from the tent. "Do light each of us a lantern, Coppelius."

"Yes, Professor." Coppelius went into the tent and lit two lanterns.

"Let's go exploring, shall we?" He led the way to what looked like the back of the cave. When Coppelius neared it, he saw an outcropping from one sidewall that nearly reached the other. The coloring and shadows cleverly hid the gap until someone stood right there.

He just happened to wander right to the back wall? I bet one of those letters in his little book told him and he never told me. There should be no secrets between us. I'm the one doing all the work. I need to know.

The Professor turned sideways and held the lantern before him as he shuffled through. Coppelius did the same and followed.

The gap opened into a cave with sunlight coming down through cracks in the ceiling. The walls and floor were smooth, clearly worked by men some time ago. The floor gently sloped to a rounded pool too murky to see the bottom. Dark algae colored the water and tiny fish reflected the light off their scales when they swam near the surface. At the edge of the pool sat a chubby frog waiting for a careless fish to nibble the algae near its perch.

A tunnel carved seven feet high led out of the cave. The Professor walked towards it, studying the floor. Mosses mottled it in varicolored patches. He frowned at one overly large patch growing before the tunnel.

"Coppelius, why don't you go first? Do watch your step."

"Yes, Professor." Coppelius walked over to the tunnel. It was narrow, perhaps three feet wide. Strange dark slots were cut into the walls on either side and barely seen beneath dirty cobweb strands. Perhaps they were meant to resemble tiger stripes, but why cut them so deep?

The moss was soft and he made no sounds as he— THUNK!

The stone floor beneath the moss suddenly sank down. A rumbling trembled through the floor. He stumbled forward one step and caught himself on the second, stopping just inside the tunnel.

There was a muffled hiss in the air. The strands billowed out from the stripes in the wall. WHOOSH! A blade on a strong wooden shaft rushed out from a stripe inches in front of him. It swung across the tunnel and into the stripe on the other side. Farther down the tunnel, three more bronze blades swung across, one for each set of stripes.

"Easy there, Coppelius," the Professor chuckled. "Let me take care of those."

Coppelius, not daring to move lest he set off something else, watched his mentor draw his machete then use it to probe the walls until there was a clink of metal.

Nearly getting killed was not amusing! Coppelius wanted to shout at the Professor, but that would only make him laugh. Quitting was impossible unless he wanted to be all alone in Cambodia with no way of getting home.

Sweat ran down Coppelius' temple as the blade kept swinging back and forth, gleefully waiting to kill him.

"Oh, very clever," the professor said. "Hollowed out roots to hide this chain in plain sight." He pulled the chain.

There was a clunk from beneath the floor and the blades slowed their swing. The professor hooked a bronze ring at the end of the chain to a carved jut of rock clearly made to hold it. "And much like that bit of a crack hiding this room, this little hook is so easy to miss."

"I-interesting," Coppelius stammered. The blade slowed to a stop. It hung down in front of him and he stared at the cobwebs dangling from the polished blade. Wait, how is it still polished? Hanging long enough for cobwebs to get impossibly long in this damp without a hint of weathering? He shook his head. Get out of this death trap first, puzzle over it later! He cleared his throat. "The blades are just hanging in the tunnel, Professor."

"See if they swing freely or if we have to clamor around them."

"Yes, Professor."

Being the lowly assistant to the Professor was not an honor, it was a test of survival! Coppelius sucked in a calming breath then pushed on the long shaft of the blade.

Creaking on whatever hinges were holding it, the blade moved aside. He held it there and stepped past it before letting the shaft go.  The blade swung back and forth a few times then settled back into place.

"Splendid!" the professor exclaimed.  He entered the tunnel and moved the first blade aside.

A minute later, the two were past the blades and standing in yet another cave.  This time, they did not find another tunnel leading out.  What they did find was a tree.

It was an old, blackened olive tree growing beneath the ceiling cracks. 

"That is an olive tree," the Professor announced.

Coppelius, a little behind him, rolled his eyes.

"It is, Professor. But how is it growing in a cave and why is it black?"

"Why the bloody hell is it in Cambodia?"

At the base of the tree was a hollow nearly closed up by a weave of black thorny vines.  The lanterns shone upon an odd tome in the hollow. Two spikes pierced the tome, holding many pages between the wooden covers that were one foot across and a foot-and-a-half long. From where Coppelius stood, the tome looked to be at least four inches thick.

"What an odd place to hide a book," Coppelius said.

"Oh, I think it's terribly clever. Let's get it out from under that tree."

Coppelius eagerly reached through the vines but stopped when he felt how sharp and strong the thorns were.  He drew his machete and tried to cut them but his blade simply bounced off without leaving a mark.

The professor joined him with his own machete and still, the vines refused to be cut.

"These are very stubborn." The older man wiped sweat from his face with a handkerchief.  He stood back with a frown. Coppelius joined him.

"What if we dug under them?"

"Splendid idea! I think I have a folding shovel in my pack ... ?"

"You do, Professor." Coppelius shrugged off his small pack. "I have one, too."

"Well, well," a voice said in ancient Greek.

Coppelius blinked. At least, it sounded like ancient Greek. In his mind, the words translated into casual English. It felt  ... unnatural. He looked about the cave but saw no one else.

"Th-the tree." The professor’s voice was suddenly hoarse. He pointed with a shaking hand. There was a face in the black vines, and it was moving.

"Digging will not get you my book, and I grow tired of your feeble attempts," the face said.

"Aggghhh!" the Professor squealed and ran to the tunnel. He pushed through the blades with impressive speed.

Coppelius turned to follow.

"Heh heh heh."

He whirled back around in alarm, his hand squeezing tight about the hilt of his machete.

"My, my. You do have a spine," the face chuckled. "Do you still want my tome?  It can be yours." 

"H-how?"

"Do you TRULY want my tome, little stoutheart?"

Coppelius swallowed as sweat ran down his face.  It was not from the heat of Cambodia.

If I got that book, the University just might make me a professor.  I would not have to work under Professor Breijin anymore.  And I won't have to risk my life triggering traps for him.

Coppelius swallowed again. He took a deep, trembling breath.

"Yes, I want your book."

There was a scream that rapidly grew louder until Professor Breijin ran out from a shadowy corner of the cave. He fell to the floor.

"Good of you to return," the face greeted the professor. "One of you shall get my tome and one of you shall die."

Coppelius helped the professor to his feet. Fear etched their faces as they turned to the tree.

"There are two paths to my heart, one easier than the other. He who returns with my heart lives."

There was a faint rustling and vines of shadow unraveled away from the two distant corners of the cave. In each corner now stood two arched tunnels. One arch was gold and the other arch was ivory.

Coppelius picked up his still-lit lantern. The professor quickly picked up his.

"Let the game begin."

The professor raced for the tunnel with the golden arch.

Fool, Coppelius thought. This is Cambodia. Gold may be valued but ivory is sacred. 

Coppelius ran for his tunnel.

"Mwhahahahahah," the face laughed and laughed in wicked delight.

Coppelius ran through the ivory arch. There were no cracks in the ceiling. It would have been pitch dark if not for his lantern. The tunnel twisted left and into a crevice across the floor.

Running too fast to stop, he jumped. His feet landed and slid out from under him on the damp mosses on the other side. Managing to hold the lantern high, Coppelius landed on his back. It was a soft fall, thanks to the moss, but the wet soaked into the seat of his trousers. He stood up.

"Ugh." That wet pungy smell of churned-up moss had soaked into his trousers and now clung to him like an awful cologne.

The tunnel ended at a crevasse. There was no other side to jump to. Desperate to find a way to go on, he peered down.  There, some fifteen feet below him and in the far wall of the crevasse was another tunnel. Jumping could break a leg or, worse, his lantern. He thought for a moment then took off his pack.

Coppelius buckled the lantern to his pack then shrugged it back onto his back. The light shining ahead of him was much dimmer now as it was blocked by his body.  After a moment, his eyes adjusted and he moved to the edge.

Lowering himself down to the end of his arms, he let go and dropped the last eight feet. He landed in a crouch with one hand braced to the ground. Taking the lantern off his pack, he stood up and crossed the wide floor to the tunnel.

This tunnel took him down in a winding path to where it split into two. There was not an arch of ivory or gold to mark them. Which way should he go?

There is no time to dilly dally! he warned himself. Flip a coin!  Heads go left, tails go right.

Coppelius flipped the coin. Heads. He ran down the left tunnel. It was a dead end.

"Damn coin."

Coppelius turned around and ran. The other way went down some more, then split into two more tunnels.

"Damn these tunnels!"

Which way? He reached for his coin then stopped. Damn the coin, I already flipped!

He ran to the left. Two twisting turns later he stopped. Jumbled rock filled the tunnel ahead. Almost. There was room at the top of the pile if he crawled on his belly. Coppelius scrambled to the top and, with much cursing, he wriggled along the cave-in.

Reaching the other side, he clamored down to the floor of another cave. He was just in time to see the professor wading into a strange bramble of brown roots. The older man was heading towards something that gleamed with gold and ivory in their lantern lights.

Swinging his machete with the fervor of some battle-crazed warmonger, the professor slashed the roots out of his way. He cut the roots away from the gold and ivory object and grabbed it.

"It's mine!" the professor crowed as he held up something shaped like the symbol on a Grecian healer's coin. "I have won!" He turned to leave the bramble then stopped.

"My leg!" His right leg twitched as he seemed to be trying to kick free. The roots moved, closing in on him. He slashed at the roots but failed to cut them.

Coppelius ran to the bramble of roots, swinging his machete to no avail. His blade just bounced off.

The roots ignored Coppelius and began to ravel all around the professor in a slow ever-tightening weave.

"Coppelius!" The older man reached out his hand, holding the object. "Take this."

The roots turned red and the Professor struggled to breathe.

"Sh ... show the ... world ... what I ... found -- aaargh!"

Blood oozed out of the professor's mouth. Two red roots reared up then plunged into each of his eyes.

With a shaking hand, Coppelius sheathed his machete and took the object. The roots went still.

"Rest in pea--." The roots moved again. This time towards Coppelius.

"Oh, damn!"

Coppelius ran to the cave-in. He scrambled back to the top and wriggled as fast as he could for the other side. Expecting a root to grab him at any moment, he hurried along, heedless of any scrapes and bruises he gave himself.

Reaching the other side, he slid down to the ground on his belly then jumped to his feet. Not wasting time to see how close the roots were, he ran.

Coppelius ran through the tunnels until he came out in the crevasse. There was one way he had not tried. Maybe if -- a red root began to slither out of the tunnel. There was no time to try the other tunnels now.

He stuffed the object into his pack and buckled the lantern as he had before. Somehow it had survived his mad scrambles with only a few scratches and one ugly dent. He ran to a corner and began to climb up.

It was a hard climb without ropes. Making sure that he always braced himself against both walls of the corner, he moved one limb at a time. As he did, he fought his instincts that were screaming at him to run. It was a hard fight he dared not lose.

Coppelius reached the top and lunged onto the cave floor. He scrambled to his feet. Again, he ran, leaving the lantern rattling on his pack. This time he was ready for the crevice and he jumped it in stride. A moment later, he rushed out of the tunnel. He was back in the cave with the tree.

"Well done, little stoutheart," the face in the vines said. "Bring me my heart."

There was a faint scraping sound at the tunnel Coppelius had just entered through. He whirled around. A red vine was creeping out.

"Better hurry."

Coppelius hurriedly opened his pack and took out the object. It was a heart-shaped box. He brought it to the tree.

"Touch it to me and open it."

Pressing the box against the face with one hand, he used the other to work open the latch. The lid sprang open. Blackness and gold burst out of the box. The blackness flowed into the vines while the gold coiled about in a double circle that formed the symbol of infinity.

The vines began to move and unwind from around the tree as they wove themselves together into a tall man-like shape.

Coppelius whirled back to face the creeping root. There was only a line of shredded bark on the cave floor leading back to the tunnel.

"How did -- oof!" he started to ask as he turned back to the vine-man. Black thorny vines grabbed him and pinned him to the floor.

"You see, I cannot be Epiales unless that is Morpheus ." The vine-man pointed at the golden dust flowing in an infinity symbol. "Morpheus needs a body. Yours will do nicely."

More vines grabbed Coppleius' face. They plunged into his nose.

"The book is now yours, little Morpheus, but I can't have you telling anyone about this. Ever. This is going to hurt," the vine-man said with glee.

The black vines reached deeper down his nose, into his lungs, then deeper into his body. The vines pinning him down squeezed tighter so their thorns could pierce into his body.

He screamed in agony. More vines forced his mouth to stay open. Coppelius choked on the golden dust that poured into his mouth while the vine-man laughed and laughed.