by T.A. Barron
A waterfall, gargantuan in size and awesome in power, stretched far above them, as well as far below them. It roared like a million angry ogres, slamming into the walls of an enormous cavern that showed no top and no bottom. Spiraling plumes of spray soared into the air, showering the ledge where they stood, as the waterfall crashed relentlessly upward.
Upward?
Tamwyn leaned against his dripping staff, alternately looking higher and lower. Still unwilling to believe his own eyes, he stepped cautiously closer to the slippery edge, stowed the staff in its sheath, and crawled out as far as he dared. To look down—at the source of all this water.
Yes, the source. For the cascade was truly rising toward him, up this cavernous well in the trunk of the Great Tree. And not only that. It didn’t rise straight upward, in the way chutes of water plunged down. It rose, instead, in a spiral—one that spun gracefully and continuously, like a watery dancer who has twirled since the beginning of time.
Then Tamwyn noticed something more. While water lifted starward, light fell rootward. Also moving in a spiral, the curling column of light wove in and out of the cascade. Each spiral wrapped around the other, as each Element touched its counterpart, making water droplets shine like stars and shafts of light flow like radiant rills.
Henni, who had also crawled out to the edge, turned an astonished face toward his companion. Tamwyn had never seen those silver eyes so full of out-and-out wonder. And he was sure his own eyes looked much the same. It struck him that, for all his antics, maybe this hoolah had actually changed during their journeys together. Sure, Henni was still as playful and unreliable as ever, but there was at least a little rationality in him now. And, no matter how he tried to disguise it, a hint of respect . . . for his surroundings, if not for his life.
Tamwyn turned back to the twin spirals of water and light, one climbing and the other descending. Both moved with endless grace, rising and falling forever. He watched, spellbound, until suddenly he sat back in surprise.
He shook his wet locks, trying his best to listen. Could it be? At last, he concluded it really was there.
Music. Out of the swirling swells of the cascade, beneath the thunderous pounding of so much water, rose a vibrant, lilting music. It whistled, flutelike, as water swam through the air, even as it crashed like massive drums, swelled like distant horns, and pealed like newly wrought bells.
All around him, and within as well, this music whirled. He realized that it, too, moved in a spiral, no less than the cascades of water and light. Higher notes circled upward, while lower notes wound downward, all connected to the same rhythmic sounds, the same endless dance.
“Henni,” he said dreamily, listening to the swelling music. “Can you hear it?”
Perhaps because he, too, was moved by the spiraling notes, Henni wrapped his long arm around Tamwyn’s shoulders.
Or perhaps not.
For without any warning whatsoever, the hoolah jumped straight off the ledge and into the water—taking Tamwyn and Batty Lad with him.
“Heeheeyahahahaaaaaaa!” cried Henni, before the churning cascade swallowed his words. Just as it swallowed all of them.
Suddenly Tamwyn heard no more music—only the smash and crash of water everywhere. His whole body was battered, pounded, and torn apart. His mouth, ears, and eyes all filled with water. His lungs did, as well, making him retch and cough violently. He gagged, trying to draw some air, but breathed only more water instead.
Curtains of liquid struck him, less like rain than like hammers that pummeled him mercilessly. Over and over he rolled, hit in the face and chest and back. Water slammed him, twirled him, tumbled him. Part of his tunic ripped away, gone in a flash.
All the while, water carried him higher and higher, bearing him swiftly up leagues of vertical distance. Like a tiny seed caught by a powerful updraft, he rose within the trunk of the Great Tree.
Air! I need air!
His mind darkened as everything spun. But even with his dimming awareness, he knew that he’d been carried into upper Avalon—and that, after he died, his body would ride even higher. But what good was that now? For he’d never reach the stars, or find his father, or see Elli again. His last thought was simply surprise that he had, in this moment, thought of her.
Only vaguely did he feel himself thrown from the cascade, hurtling through air rather than water. His body thudded onto something hard, rolled, then collided into a wall. He lay there, utterly still.
19 • Hargol’s Lair
As soon as Elli and her companions, riding their small elven boat, neared the rounded ridge of coastline—it happened.
With a shower of iridescent droplets from the Rainbow Seas, four enormous heads suddenly lifted out of the water. There was no warning, no chance for Brionna to change course. All at once, with a whooshhh of spray, the heads shot straight out of the waves, riding immensely long necks. There was one on each side of the boat, plus the bow and stern. Now, four pairs of narrow, glittering eyes peered down at the companions.
“Dragons!” exclaimed Elli, staring up at the scaly necks and jaws that towered over them.
“To guide us to their lair,” said Lleu caustically. He glanced at the falcon on his shoulder and shook the spray off his cowl. “So we don’t somehow get lost.”
“How kind of them,” added Nuic, his color darkening from purple to murky gray.
Shim, who had fallen against the side of the boat in surprise, craned his neck to stare upward. “They is sureburbably big! As big as I oncely was, long ago.”
For that they were: Each head, as large as a good-sized house, carried rows upon rows of blue-tinted teeth. Like the long, undulating necks, the heads were covered with scales that shone with the bright glacial blue common to all water dragons. Below their huge nostrils and inside their triangular ears, the scales were streaked with green algae.
Realizing that only a portion of their immense bodies rose above the waves, Elli peered over the side of the boat. There, moving through the colorful water, she could see the shadowy shapes of the dragons’ enormous chests, broad backs, and powerful tails. In great, slow sweeps, the tails swept back and forth, rippling like muscular currents.
Since the dragons on each side were using their outstretched legs to guide the boat, Brionna let go of the till. “They don’t even trust us to steer,” she grumbled. As if in answer, the elbrankelp sail started fluttering noisily in the wind.
Swiftly, the dragons rounded the bend of coastline, their sleek necks leaning in unison, and guided the boat toward a sheer black cliff pocked with caves. And toward one cave in particular, which opened like a giant mouth trying to swallow the sea. All around its rim, thousands of deep blue shells had been carefully set, arranged in swirling, wavelike patterns. Even in the hazy light of Waterroot, where vapors swirled constantly, the shells glittered as bright as sapphires.
Into the gaping mouth of this cave they glided, propelled by their dragon escort. Elli and Brionna exchanged fearful glances. But as they entered, their expressions changed to surprise, for though they had expected it to be dark inside, the tunnel was actually bathed in light. Dozens of torches, radiating pearly light, lined the walls. But these were no ordinary torches: They were bubbles of seaglass filled with phosphorescent particles strained from the ocean itself.
Like melted stars the torches shone, illuminating the rock walls of the tunnel. Then, all of a sudden, a vast cavern opened around the voyagers. The cavern’s walls shimmered with colors, violet and blue and emerald green, as if every speck of its surface had been inlaid with jewels.
“Paua shells,” said Brionna, her voice filled with awe. “Everywhere you look! They cover this place as completely as bark covers a tree.”
The companions in the boat gaped at their radiant surroundings. Even Catha the falcon whistled in outright awe. Rising straight out of the great round pool of water that formed the cavern’s floor, the shell-coated walls arched high overhead. Where they converged at the top, a great seam of silver
shells ran the length of the ceiling. And all around, intricate lines of red, orange, and gold sea stars formed a complex mosaic of dragons sailing stormy seas, making wide nets of kelp, or plunging down into the darkened depths. In a far corner, where fresh water flowed down a seam into the pool, dozens of silver and pink salmon leaped and splashed. The whole cavern glowed with color; it was as much a part of the Rainbow Seas as the water itself.
Elli drew a deep breath. The cavern smelled of sea salt, kelp, barnacles, and water birds—for hundreds of cormorants, gulls, windsong loons, flying crabs, egrets, kingfishers, and others had clustered on the ledges surrounding the pool and the many side tunnels that ran deeper into the rock. The air, she realized, still carried a hint of fresh apples. And another aroma, different from sea or shell, that wafted through everything else.
The aroma of dragons. It was a smell as potent as rotten fish, as ancient as algae-covered cliffs, and as briny as the sea itself. Several more dragons swam around the rim of the pool, patrolling the tunnel entrances. One tunnel in particular caught Elli’s attention, for it glowed with an eerie green light. As the dragons swam, they made low, throaty sounds that were part hum and part gurgle—a deep, vibrating chant that carried the feeling of immense bodies swimming in a wondrous sea.
The boat stopped. Just as abruptly as they had appeared, the four dragons in the escort dropped back down into the pool, their heads disappearing in a simultaneous splash. And before anyone on the boat could say a word, another head rose up right in front of them—a head larger than those four put together.
Rivers of water coursed down the massive dragon’s head as it lifted slowly out of the pool. But instead of rising any higher, the head stayed on the surface, resting on the water like a gleaming fortress. A titanic crown, carved of golden coral and ringed with diamonds, shards of jade, and emeralds, sat upon the dragon’s brow. Hundreds of jewel-studded barnacles dotted his glacial blue scales. Countless teeth, as tall as full-grown spruce trees, glinted between his enormous black lips. And from his gargantuan ears, each the size of a great elven sail, hung earrings made from thousands of black pearls strung together with braids of kelp. With every movement of the head, the earrings clinked noisily.
All the while, the dragon’s eyes studied them—Elli in particular. Huge and oval-shaped, the eyes glittered with great intelligence. Indeed, like living portals, they burned with a fiery green light of their own.
“Welllllcome to my lllllairrrrr.”
The deep, resonant voice boomed as loud as last night’s thunder. And from every wall of the cavern came an echo, making the words rumble and roll like endless waves. For this was the voice, the companions all knew, of Hargol, highlord of the water dragons.
“We arrrrre honorrrrred to grrrrreet two such distinguished visitorrrrrs.”
Though terrified by the dragon’s enormity, Elli also felt puzzled. “We are honored as well, highlord,” she declared, standing as tall as she could in the middle of the boat. “But there are more than just two of us.”
“Do not corrrrrect me!” boomed the dragon, his great nostrils flaring. “Neverrrrr corrrrrect me! Have you neverrrrr hearrrrrd the ollllld adage of my peopllllle? Henjallllla makk sevrrrrranash. Orrrrr, in the Common Tongue, Rrrrroyalllllty knows alllll worrrrrth knowing. And besides, as the gnomes say, He who arrrrrgues with a drrrrragon neverrrrr arrrrrgues again.”
He gnashed his teeth, knocking loose the half-chewed head of a giant squid. “Therrrrre arrrrre two distinguished guests, and then therrrrre arrrrre the rrrrrest of you, who bearrrrr them.”
Suddenly Elli understood. He meant the two precious crystals! The crystal of élano she wore around her neck, and the Galator strapped to Nuic’s middle, were truly his prized visitors. And just how much he prized them, they would soon find out.
“You crrrrreaturrrrres carrrrry not onllllly jewellllls, you carrrrry rrrrrarrrrre beauty, grrrrreat mysterrrrry, and unfathomabllllle powerrrrr.” He licked his black lips, as if tasting a delectable treat. “I have not seen such marrrrrvelllllous crrrrrystallllls in many lllllong yearrrrrs.”
Lleu stood up, with Catha on his shoulder, rocking the craft as he moved to the center to stand beside Elli. He had to step over Shim, for the little fellow was cowering in the bow, trembling at the sight of this beast that had risen up before them. “We have come here,” Lleu announced, “from very far away.” He spread his long arms, beckoning to the gargantuan face. “Great highlord, we need to ask you for—”
“I alllllrrrrready know why you arrrrre herrrrre!” Hargol’s immense earrings clattered noisily as he shook his head, while a sandhill crane that had landed on the tip of one ear flew off with a squawk. “You seek to lllllearrrrrn the lllllocation of the new crrrrrystalllll of powerrrrr. Forrrrr I have sensed both this crrrrrystalllll . . . and yourrrrr strrrrrong desirrrrre to find it.”
Elli started to explain that they didn’t want to possess the new crystal, but rather to destroy it. But she caught herself. How could she be sure of the dragon’s reaction? Savoring rare crystals as much as he did, would he consider that a terrible crime?
She cleared her throat. “You are right, highlord, about what we seek. Our friend, the Lady of the Lake, told us you could help.”
A distant light gleamed in the enormous green eyes. “The Lllllady?” Hargol seemed to regard them with a touch of new respect, or possibly caution. “She is indeed corrrrrect that I can helllllp you. Illllli upsulllll ethimilllll, as the mist maidens of Airrrrroot say: A drrrrragon’s knowllllledge is widerrrrr than the sky. But such matterrrrrs rrrrrequire time, you rrrrrealllllize.”
“Just what we don’t have,” whispered Nuic grumpily. He wriggled in Elli’s arms, then raised his voice. “Just how long do you intend to make us wait?”
The green eyes narrowed slightly at the sprite. “As lllllong as I plllllease. A drrrrragon’s age if I lllllike!”
He rumbled angrily—and sprayed a jet of blue ice from one nostril. The ice hit the water with a loud splash, then instantly congealed into a chunk as big as the companions’ boat. An unfortunate sea otter, who had been swimming near the spot, suddenly squealed in panic, for his foreleg had been frozen into the ice. The otter fought vigorously to break free, rolling and twisting, until the ice finally cracked. Then, with another squeal, he dove beneath the surface and swam away.
On their craft, Elli and the others traded anxious glances. At the same time, the dragons patrolling the perimeter immediately ceased their chanting. Turning toward their highlord, they watched him with utmost attention. At last, Hargol flicked one of his ears dismissively. The guards resumed their movements through the water, as well as their chants.
“You ask a grrrrreat dealllll of me,” he declared in a slightly softer voice. “Morrrrre, I belllllieve, than you know. Forrrrr to find the crrrrrystalllll you seek, I must strrrrretch my senses to the lllllimit. And I must alllllso . . .”
His voice trailed off, echoing around the cavern. He blinked his eyes, with regal slowness, before continuing. “I must alllllso rrrrresist the temptation.”
Elli swallowed. She didn’t need to ask what temptation he meant.
“So whillllle I considerrrrr yourrrrr rrrrrequest, you shalllll stay herrrrre. Alllll of you.”
“But we don’t have much ti—” began Elli, before the highlord cut her off.
“Arrrrrgowzbrrrrragg! And whillllle you wait, you shalllll feast.”
Even Shim’s deaf ears seemed to catch the meaning of that final word. The little giant suddenly stopped trembling and looked around expectantly.
“But highlord,” began Elli again. “We—”
“Guarrrrrds!” commanded Hargol, in a voice so thunderous that several sea stars broke off the walls and splashed down into the pool. “Brrrrring them to the dining halllll.”
20 • Caviar Cakes
Despite Elli’s protests, the bejeweled head of Hargol plunged beneath the surface of the pool. The waves from his sudden descent nearly swamped the companions’ boat. The
y might have flipped—or at least lost Shim overboard—except that a team of dragon guards arrived immediately. The four blue-scaled dragons, showing both speed and precision, steadied the craft with their outstretched legs. And then, with a simultaneous sweep of their powerful tails, they started guiding it over to a side tunnel.
“Don’t worrily, good lass,” said Shim, smacking his lips as he wriggled in the boat. “They’re justly taking us to eat.”
“Must say,” added Lleu, “that does sound rather good! I’m hungry enough to eat one of those sea stars.”
The falcon on his shoulder chirped approvingly.
“Feels like we’re being taken to prison,” Elli snapped. “Not a dining hall.”
“Or a dining hall where we’re the next meal,” grumbled the sprite in her arms.
Still fuming at the highlord, Elli nodded. She sat back down in the center of the boat, arms folded across her chest. Just as they were about to enter the side tunnel, she realized that it was adjacent to the tunnel where the eerie green light flickered. As they passed the greenish entrance, she peered inside. But she saw nothing other than strange shadows trembling upon its walls.
Down the side tunnel they glided. Abruptly, it opened into a new cavern. This one was much smaller and lower-ceilinged than the central cavern where they’d met the highlord. It was also decorated far more simply, with alternating rows of oyster and clam shells set into its walls, and no graceful designs of sea stars. But it did have one advantage over the central cavern.
Food.
All around the rim, on rock ledges that jutted out from the walls just above water level, sat heavy tables of carved coral. Not just a few—more than a dozen of them ringed the cavern. And every table was piled high with the ocean’s bounty.
Huge pots of steaming fish sat beside enormous bowls of salmon and dill puddings, raw fish fillets, scallop and savorykelp salads, and shrimps the size of Lleu’s open hand. There were giant clamshells full of purple water chestnuts, krill-stuffed mushrooms, fresh coral onions, sugar eels, and—of course—melted butter made from rich seal’s milk. Mountainous piles of cracked crabs, orange and blue and green, covered two whole tables, together with a wide array of undersea spices. Tureens as tall as Brionna and as wide as Shim held piping hot abalone soup, oyster stew, and crab bisque. Broiled lobster, steamed tuna, crab casserole, poached snapper, and mackerel steaks rounded out the menu. And everything went well with the cheesekelp biscuits that were piled high in baskets on every table.
