Breister looked about in astonishment. Far above their heads, the cavern had several openings to the outside. Shafts of sunlight beamed into the cavern through the ragged holes in the rock. He had never seen, or imagined, such a thing. The cavern, far underground, was open to the world outside! Breister felt a surge of delirious happiness course through him. He could escape the underground! He could search for Helga!
“You are thinking about the other world,” WooZan observed. “Your eyes are fixed on the LuteWoo, and you are thinking about escape.” Breister looked at WooZan with surprise. She had once again seemed to read his thoughts.
“No, I do not read thoughts,” WooZan said. “You think because I know what you are thinking, that I can see inside your mind. No. No. I only know the feelings that you feel so well that I need not be told what they are. Since the first day of the WooSheep, our folk have known these feelings. No Woonyak that has joined the WooSheep over the ages has ever had a different thought than you. I know exactly what to expect from you. Hunjah!”
Breister looked at the WooSheep chieftain with curiosity. “There are many Woonyaks?” he asked.
“Yes, but it is still a great occasion for us when a Woonyak comes,” WooZan replied. “Over a thousand, thousand lifetimes, there is time for many Woonyaks and each one brings something new to the WooSheep. Their coming is a great event among our folk. The first of our people were Woonyaks. Our stories tell about them. And the fall of each Woonyak is a great event—a renewal of our story and our people. There will be a story about you, also. As you become an elder among the WooSheep your story will be honored, it will be drawn on the walls of the Deep Caves, where all our great stories are recorded. You will be buried there also...your story will be with you forever.”
“Whoa there, WooZan...Now, wait just a minute!” Breister protested. “You may know the Woonyaks you have seen in the past, but I’m a different case. I’m not staying here. I’m leaving to find my daughter. You’ve been very kind to me and I’m very grateful to you for saving my life, but—”
“—but you have seen the LuteWoo, and you think you can escape from this world?” As before, it was less a question, than a statement of fact.
“That’s exactly right,” Breister replied. “I’m getting out of here, just as soon as I learn the way.”
“No one leaves the WooSheep, friend,” WooZan said quietly.
“What do you mean?” Breister said, feeling a new sense of anxiety.
“There is no way out,” the WooSheep explained. “There is no way to leave here. There are only the OmpotoWoo, which gives us our way of living, and the LuteWoo which reminds us of the promise of the afterlife.”
“But the LuteWoo is open to the outside!” Breister exclaimed. “Surely there is a way—”
“To climb out of this world?” WooZan completed the sentence. “See how well I know your feelings? All Woonyaks think exactly alike. Hunjah! There is no way out. But there is the promise of the life to come.”
Breister’s mind was reeling. Could it be true? Was he condemned to live here to the end of his days?
Breister sank into thoughtful silence. After a short time WooZan observed, “You are thinking that I must be wrong—that there must be a way to leave this world. Am I right?”
“Yes! Yes! That’s exactly right!” Breister exploded. “You think you are so smart. You think you can sit there and know what I am thinking. Well, you’re wrong! I’m getting out of here, and you can think whatever you want about that!”
“It’s not what I want to think, friend; it is the reality of things. Our stories tell that ages ago, the folk we now know as the WooSheep lived in the high, high mountains. We were simple Planting Sheep and happy with our life. But a time of great sickness came over that land and our folk became very sick. Many died. At last, the sickness was so great that our chiefs said it was best to leave our homes. Many of us loaded our belongings onto boats and tried to float down the river. Many died in the rapids. Many more fell through the OmpotoWoo and lived. Those became the WooSheep.”
Breister was silent for a long time. WooZan honored this silence. After some time, Breister said, “Why can’t we ascend through the LuteWoo? Has anyone tried?”
“The LuteWoo is the home of the Fire Beetles,” WooZan responded. “The Fire Beetles excrete an acid that covers their bodies. Touch it and your skin burns like fire for days. Over the thousands of years the Fire Beetles have lived there, the small bit of the acid clinging to their feet has gradually dissolved the rock, making the natural skylights above our heads. That, and the fact there is no way to reach the openings, makes it impossible to leave, even should one want to go. Hunjah!”