Chapter 25
In the Depths
As my eyes adjust to the darkness a soft glow comes from below sending waves of light rippling across the brickwork above. There’s something down there in the water, something bright. A distant hum fills the air, low and bassy it buzzes in my bones. I take a deep breath, then let myself sink under the surface. My vision is blurred but I can make out that the tunnel narrows into what looks like the start of a huge pipe, kind of like the one that sticks out the back of the toilet. The light is coming from there.
Yous gonna get flushed!
I kick upwards, break the surface and tread water. Better think fast cause my leg muscles are really starting to ache. Looks like the pipe might be my only way out. Another deep breath and I swim down again, my ears popping with the pressure of going so deep and I still can’t see the bottom from here. My fingers grip the rough brick edge of the pipe. Lines of light crawl around the inside but I can’t see any end to it; lungs already burning from holding my breath I kick upwards and break the surface.
The hum is louder now. I can’t work out where it’s coming from. Above, below or to the sides. It seems to come from all around.
Fear crawls across my shoulders. Do I chance the pipe, chance getting stuck and drowning? My only other option is to stay here until I slip underwater. Either way I won’t be able to breathe anymore.
When you can’t breathe anymore.
Hazel’s voice rings in my ears and suddenly I’ve got more strength in my legs. I kick harder and slip the Angelmere bag from my shoulder. It sticks to my arm, and I gulp, hoping that magic things still work when they’re wet, hoping that my phone is safe in there too.
Kicking hard with both legs I think of the dream catcher, open the bag. A thrum of hope passes through me. It’s there. I poke a finger through the threads to hold it while I close the bag. No way I’m losing this as well as my foil. I’m just slinging the bag over my shoulder again when something slithers across my finger. My pulse bounces like a power ball.
It’s working. Just like it did in the dark cave.
The blue thread has come loose from the dream catcher and wrapped itself around my finger. Time to test it.
As I duck under water, the usual blurriness in vision isn’t there, almost as if I was wearing swimming goggles. This oddness – this unexpected change – gives me confidence and I take a small test breath. Cool air hits the back of my throat and I breathe deeper then laugh, bubbles surrounding me.
I can breathe underwater. I can find my foil!
I kick upwards, break the surface, and put both arms through the handles of the Angelmere bag so it sits on my back like a rucksack.
The water starts to bubble sending waves outwards that hit the brickwork. Spray flies in the air, rains down on me. The humming gets louder, the water choppier now, like the wave machine on full blast at the swimming pool.
My joy at being able to breathe underwater falls from the high diving board. This can’t be good.
Taking one last look around I flip myself over and dive down into the water.
I can do this.
Down, down, down I go, the water pushing and pulling me with the force of the ever-building waves. It seems bottomless at first, but then bricks fade up out of the darkness and there, at the bottom of the tunnel is my foil.
“Yes,” I shout, bubbles tickling against my skin as they float upwards.
I kick harder, close in. My arm reaches out, my fingers pale and jittery. A wave hits, a big one. Even down here it swirls the water, sends my foil spinning away. And it’s like a huge hand just shoved me. Air leaves my lungs as I spin backwards through the water. Heart pounding, I twist myself back on course. I’m swimming against the tide and it takes all my effort to just stay where I am.
Then the water swirls, it grabs hold of me, spins me round, pushes me and I’m rushing towards the underground tunnel. My fingers catch the edge, the brickwork rough but the pressure is too much, and I’m sucked down the tunnel, screaming in bubbles as I go.
Yous gonna get flushed!
So, this is what a turd feels like.
Accelerating through the tunnel, I roll myself into a ball and try to breathe through it.
And then the pressure of the water is gone and I’m spinning around and around. I kick to right myself and try to take in my surroundings. I’m in a square chamber, completely filled with water and in front of me are three openings with curved arches above them. I swim over and see that each is marked with a number engraved into the middle brick at the top of the arch: 1,2,3. And above this, someone has scratched something into the bricks:
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Down in the depths,
Choosing 1,2,3
I gasp and bubbles float up around me.
Fongel’s song:
Down in the depths,
Choosing 1,2,3
Where you sit,
Leads to Sabotini.
I check each tunnel entrance for something you might sit on, a ledge or something, but each looks the same as the next, smooth bricks arching down.
Where you sit,
Leads to Sabotini.
What could it mean? There’s clearly nowhere to sit. A shiver crawls across my shoulders. The water is cold. I might be able to breathe but I can’t stay here forever. A chair? A table? A bed? A settee? Some grass? A car? A plane? A train? The toilet? You can sit either on or in any of these and many more things beside. What did they have in common?
Come on, Brad. Think!
Wait. Fongel slapped his bum each time he sang that line. You sit on your bum but…
A whoosh of excitement hits me. Number three! It’s number three. Turn it on its side and it looks like a bum!
I kick hard and swim down the third tunnel a little way. I really hope I’m right about this one. The tunnel stretches out before me endlessly and I breathe deeply, trying to keep my fear at bay. Just got to keep going down the path I’ve chosen. I swim until my arms ache then float down and walk along the bottom, like an astronaut on the moon. The tunnel starts to curve to the left, and, rounding the corner I see a circle of light up ahead, just like the one I saw before. If one was an entrance, this must be an exit.
My stomach swirls and I push forward through the water. From here all I can make out is a distorted image. Gold, brown, grey, red, and green all mix together, like I’m looking at it through frosted glass, but as I get closer it forms into an image that sends fear creeping across my shoulders.
The rippling image shows an old brick room filled with gold coins, stacked in little piles, and punctuated here and there with gemstones of all colours.
If it looks like a dragon’s lair, it probably is a dragon’s lair. Goosebumps pop down my arms from shoulder to wrist.
Taking a deep breath, I push my head through and gasp at the smack of cold air on my face. Another deep breath. Cool, crisp air fills my lungs, energising me and I step through into the room beyond. It’s like stepping out of the bath, if the bath is vertical and the water magically doesn’t fall out. I shiver and rub at my clothes.
They’re dry. Amazed, I run a hand through my hair. It’s dry too. I stare at my hand, rub my fingers together. The blue thread falls away and crumbles to dust before it hits the floor.
There’s no turning back now.
No turning back.
Alice’s voice echoes in my mind. I squeeze my hand into a fist. I have to try.
The room is large, made of dark grey stones, with an arched exit at one end. The opening is huge, big enough I reckon, for a dragon’s head to fit through. I shiver again, but this time it’s not from the cold. On the opposite wall a flaming torch burns brightly. I go to stand near it, soak up the warmth coming from it.
It’s quiet here. Too quiet.
Not a peaceful, relaxing silence, but the silence that comes from waiting: the held breath, the calm before the storm.
Stooping I pick up one of the coins. It’s identical to the one De Silva gave us with the dragon on one side and the kings head on the other. I place it back slowly, then check the room for a weapon. There’s plates with jewel encrusted edges, cups made entirely of diamond, golden spoons as long as my arm, necklaces, bracelets, rings. The list is endless, but none of them are any use to me. I need a sword, a shield or both. I’ve got neither.
Tiptoeing towards the archway I peek around. A long corridor lit by flaming torches on the far wall leads off for a little way before turning left, to the right is a dead end. Heart in mouth I slip into the passage, press myself against the wall and move slowly along. On the opposite side of the passageway are three small archways, evenly spaced. The first leads to another room like the one I entered but without the water pipe. I check for weapons but it’s only coins and jewels again. As I pass the second archway, movement catches my eye. I freeze, a shiver passing down my spine, eyes locked to the place I saw something. But everything is still. I shift slowly and something moves again. Heart in mouth I wave my hand in the air and the silhouetted figure does the same.
Creeping forwards I step through the arch and my heart lifts. There’s a mirror here. If there’s a mirror, there’s a way home. I spin round, looking for the second mirror, the one that will make the infinite corridor. I’m not running away, no chance, but knowing there’s a way out will make going forwards a bit easier.
But there’s no other mirror. My hope explodes in a puff of smoke. I walk up to the mirror and place a hand on the cool glass. My reflection stares back at me, pale and worried, then ripples and separates into dust like particles. My pulse hammers in my throat. The image swirls and settles and I’m staring at Haldjas Palgamor.
My eyes widen. “Can you hear me?”
He nods. “I can.”
“How?” I manage to get out past the tightness in my throat.
“Old magic. But we must be careful. Too long and Sabotini will feel it.”
“Can you get me out of here?”
He smiles a smile to chill my bones and shakes his head. “Even if I could, I would not. Complete your task and return here.”
Anger tears through me, but I bite it back. “I need a weapon. I lost my foil.”
His eyes narrow and he turns away from me, seems to be talking to someone else, holds out a hand, takes something and turns back to me. He’s got a circle – about the size of a car’s hub cap – made of polished black stone in his hands. “I can give you this, but…”
“Who’s with you?”
He looks off to his left, nods once and turns back to me. “This is a Dragon Shield, made from the scale that fell from Haalsbeder as he escaped with my queen’s precious eyes.”
Anger burns my throat, waters my eyes. “I asked…”
He holds up a hand. “Do you want it or not?”
I look down. “Yes.”
“I can do this, but if I do, Sabotini will definitely feel the magic. Do you want protection so badly you will put yourself in more danger to get it?”
Cold flows through me. I want the shield. But I don’t want the risk.
He holds the shield up. “Will you take this gift.”
Don’t accept anything from the Fae.
Alice’s voice floats in my mind. I shake my head to clear it. “Give it to me.”
Palgamor turns to speak to the person I can’t see then turns back. “Step back.”
I back away a couple of steps and wait, my whole body thrumming with anticipation.
Palgamor spreads his legs wide and starts to mutter words I don’t understand. The glass of the mirror ripples like the ocean on a calm day. I hold my breath as Palgamor steps forward and punches the shield towards me. It passes straight through the glass and into the room with me.
I scurry forwards and take it. The scale is smooth and cool, polished so I can see my reflection in it.
Palgamor’s hand withdraws, and the mirror image swirls once more. “Come back here should you succeed. I will be waiting.”
“Wait!” I shout, but his image is already fading. “Wait!” But it’s just my reflection shouting back at me.