“Good, Johnny,” said Grimwarden. “The roof of this cavern may be too high, but stalactites reach down—hit those if you can.”
“Go ahead, Johnny,” Nelly urged from her cavesurfer, her familiar voice giving him confidence.
Johnny took a breath, looked high above, and picked the center of the darkness overhead. He groaned, and the glow in his palms turned to a blaze. Twin streams of fire leaped up from Johnny’s hands and stretched far into the darkness. He walked the flames about until he found a stalactite. Then it seemed he intensified the flow even more. The sandstone spike was enveloped in fire.
“WHOA!” Tommy exclaimed. Instantly half of the cavern was bathed in a brilliant orange glow, and at once the Elves began searching the waters.
Johnny turned around and shot another blast of liquid fire onto a second stalactite.
At last, Tommy could see just how vast and deep the cavern was. They could park a battleship in here, he thought with dismay. How are we going to—?
“We have Lord Hamandar!” yelled a deep voice near the turbulent base of the falls. “He is unconscious, but he lives!”
“Who?” asked Kiri Lee.
“Jett!” said Goldarrow with a cry of relief. “Oh, thank Ellos!”
“Commander!” called another voice. “We have their cavesurfer. . . . Wait, someone is in it! It is Brynn, and she lives!”
“Is there no one else?” Regis called.
The flet soldier shook his head.
“We should see the others by now . . . ,” Grimwarden muttered, his voice trailing off. He spun the boat about and raced toward the back corner of the right side of the cavern.
“Where are you going?” yelled Regis.
“Keep searching!” barked the Guardmaster, rowing frantically. Tommy, Kat, and Kiri Lee held on once more. They couldn’t believe how strong Grimwarden was—how he moved the craft so quickly. But he stopped just as suddenly and brought the cavesurfer around.
“We can go no farther,” he said, speaking over the pounding water of the falls. “Beyond this point, the current will drag us in.”
They all saw the change in the water ahead. It churned counterclockwise in a vast water vortex . . . at least seventy yards in diameter. Closer to the center, the water rotated faster until it bottomed out to where no one could see.
Tommy blinked and stared. “There . . . on the edge. Do you see?”
“No . . . nothing,” Goldarrow said.
“I see!” Kiri Lee cried out. “I think it’s Jimmy!”
Grimwarden at last saw what the young lords had seen: the silhouette of an arm and a head barely above water. The arm was moving, but by the current or from life, he could not tell. Grimwarden stood up, rocking the boat. “Keep the craft steady,” he told Goldarrow.
“What are you doing?” she shot back. “You aren’t going to dive into—?”
“We have no choice!” he yelled.
“B-But . . . ,” she stammered. “How will we get you back?”
“Think of something!” he yelled, and he dove into the black water.
Jimmy was disoriented and very close to drowning. The tumble he’d taken out of the cavesurfer had taken its toll, plunging him into the turbulent cauldron at the bottom of the falls. He swallowed more than his share of water as the swirling currents turned him ’round and ’round beneath the water. Suddenly the violent water released its grip on him, and Jimmy found himself floating in darkness on the surface. He’d called out again and again, but no one responded. Jimmy felt certain that Brynn, Mr. Wallace, Johnny, and Jett . . . were all gone, killed when their surfer capsized. Once or twice he thought he’d seen the flicker of light off in the unknown distance, torchcells from the other Elven pilots. They had plunged down the left side of the falls as instructed and now seemed so far away. He cried out once more, but realized he could barely hear his own weak voice above the explosive ruckus of the falls.
It seemed like an eternity he floated in the darkness, his thoughts all to himself. He was moving, slowly at first, but gradually gaining speed. Knowing he could only tread water for so long, he had almost resigned himself to the fact that he would indeed die here. But something inside Jimmy Gresham would not quit. Maybe it was the hardness he’d gained when he was very young from life in an orphanage. But there was sometone else, too. When he’d lived with the Gresham family, he’d hoped to have found a home . . . hoped to have found love. That had all vanished when Geoffry was born. But then . . . out of nowhere, Miss Finney and Regis had come and told Jimmy he was not a castaway kid, but someone quite special . . . royalty even. They’d told him there was a place where he belonged and an important job for him to do. No way he could give up now . . . NO WAY.
Then a brilliant burst of light exploded somewhere ahead. Jimmy turned, his senses coming alive. One of the giant dangling stalactites was now a raging inferno of flames, casting a warm orange glow throughout the cavern.
Jimmy felt a spike of energy, and he propelled himself hard against the current. But he could see his peril now. He could see the whirlpool: a monstrous spiral galaxy of water churning with slow but unstoppable progress. He was not in the outer bands but just thirty yards from the center.
“JIMMY!” a voice rang out. “Fight the current, Jimmy!”
Jimmy turned to face the voice. He couldn’t quite make out the form, but someone was clearly telling him to swim for it.
Grimwarden splashed his way toward the whirlpool. Between spraying water and submerging for breaths, he saw Jimmy struggling. Knowing Jimmy was too far in to escape and in moments he would be, too, Grimwarden left their fate to Ellos and dauntlessly plowed on.
Then he saw Jimmy go under. “NOOO!” Grimwarden clawed at the water and kicked his feet with long, mighty strokes. The whirling current threatened to throw him off course, but instinctively he made the water flow work for him, curling with it to the side. Then he saw Jimmy’s hand reaching up above the water.
Grimwarden jetted through the water, getting closer to the young lord.
“We’ve got rope!” Goldarrow said, raising the coil she’d found stowed beneath the backseat.
“Oh no,” Kat cried. “Jimmy’s gone under!”
Moving suddenly to see, Tommy and Goldarrow almost tipped the cavesurfer. They saw Grimwarden just as he dove beneath the surface. There were several breathless seconds until Grimwarden came up . . . empty-handed.
“Flet Marshall Goldarrow!” yelled a young flet soldier who had maneuvered his cavesurfer near. “You are too close to the pool currents! Row away!”
Goldarrow looked from the scene near the middle of the whirlpool back to the currents surrounding their vessel. She dropped onto the rear bench, grabbed an oar, and moved them back.
“Ah!” Kat screamed. “He’s got him! Grimwarden’s got Jimmy!”
Goldarrow jerked her head around. Thank Ellos! she thought. But they are so far. How will I ever get this rope to them? She thought about tying the rope to one of the oars and throwing it like a spear. No . . . Jett might be able to, but she couldn’t. Kiri Lee. But she was too sick to attempt such a treacherous air walk. Then it came to her. TOMMY.
She grabbed the young lord’s shoulder. “Your bow!” Goldarrow demanded. “String it! Have you any arrows left?”
“I think . . . one maybe—whoa!” Tommy fell on his rear in the bottom of the surfer, clambered back to his seat, and rummaged around looking for his quiver.
“Hurry!” Kat yelled. “Grimwarden’s struggling. They’re getting close to the middle.”
“Ah, got it!” Tommy cried, holding up the quiver. “I’ve got one arrow.”
“Give it to me,” Goldarrow demanded. Her fingers moved faster than Tommy had ever seen, and she tied a very strange-looking knot onto the very back of the arrow. She had tied one loop of the rope tight right before the fletchings, another loop right behind them on the nock, and had left a very tight, tiny ball of rope hanging loose. “There,” she said, handing the arrow to Tommy. “That ought t
o reduce drag from the rope somewhat. But still aim high.”
“Got it!” Tommy said, his heart jackhammering.
Jimmy coughed, spat out water, and weakly gripped Grimwarden’s arm.
“I got you, lad!” Grimwarden yelled, grasping Jimmy under his shoulders and pulling him close.
He’s exhausted, thought Grimwarden. And now, holding the boy, he could not muster enough force to fight the whirlpool’s massive current. They drifted with the current, Grimwarden struggling to see over the surface waves. “HERE!!” he yelled. “HERE, GOLDARROW!!”
Suddenly a new stream of flame stretched like a fiery tentacle to the roof of the cavern. Johnny had done well. Grimwarden could see much better, and that meant Goldarrow could as well. Bobbing up in the currents, Grimwarden saw a lot of movement on board his cavesurfer. It looked as if another cavesurfer was there as well. Then he saw Tommy stand . . . very tall . . . like he might be standing on the seats.
He has his bow! Grimwarden kicked as hard as he could and raised his hand to give Tommy something to aim for. But the way the current was dragging him it was impossible to stay in one place. Grimwarden worried that Tommy would only have time for one shot.
The arrow went up. Good lad! Grimwarden thought. Plenty of height. The thin rope trailed behind the arrow without weighing it down too much. The arrow fell at last, well within Grimwarden’s reach. He turned his body to avoid dunking Jimmy, and just as the current pulled him away he grabbed for the rope. . . .
To their collective horror, Grimwarden’s outstretched arm fell short of grasping the rope. He and Jimmy were tugged deeper into the whirlpool and were moving much faster now.
“NO!!” shouted Goldarrow. “Everyone, take hold of the rope. Pull the arrow back! Now!! Hurry!”
The whirlpool grabbed Grimwarden and yanked him backward. He splashed and flailed. He barely had the strength to keep him and Johnny above water, much less make any progress against the cursed current. “Hold on, Jimmy!” he growled. Then he saw the arrow skipping across the concentric waves, the middle and outer bands of the whirlpool. They were pulling the rope back for another try. “Hold on! We might have one last chance!”
Jimmy let his head fall back against Grimwarden’s chest and looked up. “We’re going to make it, yu know,” he said.
Grimwarden’s eyes opened wide. “You—you’ve seen it with your foresight?”
“No”—Jimmy laugh-coughed—“but I trust yu.”
Grimwarden set his jaw. “Climb onto my back, then,” he said. “I’m going to need both hands free.”
“They’re slipping below the surface!” yelled Kat, jerking back fistfuls of rope as fast as she could.
“No,” Tommy shot back. “I can see them still . . . barely!”
“Yes!” she replied. “I see them now!”
Goldarrow couldn’t look up. All she could think about was getting that arrow back as fast as possible. She saw it, skipping, practically flying across the black water. Just forty yards away, thirty . . . twenty, ten. “I’ve got it. Here, Tommy! Take it. May Ellos bless your aim!”
“I can only see Grimwarden’s hands now!” said Kat. “What’s he doing? He’s doing something with his hands.”
Tommy nocked the arrow and leaned outward. “Steady the boat!” he yelled. “I need to see!” Tommy watched Grimwarden’s arms. He had one arm outstretched and high with his palm wide, fingers spread out. With his other hand balled into a fist, he was smacking it into the palm of the first hand. What is he doing? And then Tommy thought he understood.
Grimwarden smacked his fist into his palm. Come on! Take the shot! Be true! They were out of time.
“Grimwarden!” Jimmy yelled. “We’re going under!”
“NOW, TOMMY!!” Grimwarden roared. “NOWWWW!!”
Tommy lined up the shot and fired.
A breath later and Grimwarden’s hand felt as if a red-hot iron poker drove into his palm. He looked up to see an arrow shaft lodged halfway through his hand and blood pouring down his wrist. He grimaced and grunted, focusing on closing his fingers around the arrow. His arm jerked, elbow snapping, and he struggled to reach the arrow with his free hand. Then the current took them down.
“Did you . . . ?” Goldarrow’s voice trailed off.
“I don’t know,” Tommy said. “They’re gone! Pull!”
No sooner had the command gone out than the rope nearly pulled free from their hands. “Kat, hold on! Flet soldiers! GET THE ROPE AND PULL!”
The flet soldiers in the other craft took hold of some of the loose coils and added their might to the effort.
“They’re . . . ah . . . they’re still under!” yelled Kat. “Ah!”
“We don’t have enough!” Tommy grunted, his arms burning. He felt as if he were engaged in a tug-of-war against an entire football team.
“We are fighting the teeth of the current,” said Goldarrow. “But we will prevail! Endurance and Victory!”
Spluttering and puffing for air, Grimwarden and Jimmy broke the surface. Fresh blood pulsed out between the fingers of Grimwarden’s hands. The pain was excruciating, but he clutched the arrow and the rope even tighter. They were moving, slowly—oh so slowly—but they were moving against the current. And they were alive.
“I-I-I told you,” whispered Jimmy, slumped on Grimwarden’s back.
Goldarrow, Tommy, Kat, and five flet soldiers heaved the rope with all their might. “Come on!” Goldarrow urged. “Pull harder! They’re halfway now! Grimwarden, can you hear me?”
“Yes.” His reply was audible but weak.
“You’re hurt?”
“Thanks to that blessed archer of ours, yes,” said Grimwarden. “Hurt . . . and alive.”
Goldarrow saw the blood leaking out into the water. “Faster!” she demanded. “Let’s get them in!”
Kat had never felt such a burn in her muscles, not even in gymnastics when she’d had to hang from the uneven bars until her coach said to drop. Oh no! she thought. No, not now with everyone watching. No. But it was too late. The pain was that intense. She could feel it building. Then she did it. Squeak!
“What was that?” Tommy asked.
“What was what?” Kat asked, fighting off another. Squeak!
“There it is again,” said Tommy. “I heard a squeak.”
“Get focused, both of you!” Goldarrow warned, the edge to her voice sword sharp.
“I’m sorry,” said Kat. “It’s just—” She never finished her apology.
“Aieee!” yelled one of the flet soldiers. “Razorfish!”
Grimwarden turned just in time. A glistening gray shape rose out of the water, a fin, curved and membraned like a bat’s wing. Grimwarden saw their peril immediately. He lifted his fists so that the fin could slide under the rope. He knew razorfish were quite blind, but they felt changes in water current, water temperature, and they could smell blood. The creatures didn’t need to know exactly where their prey was, so long as they could bump some part of their fins against it. That dorsal fin could bite through leather armor, even light metal . . . to say nothing of what it could do to a man. It missed on its first pass, but Grimwarden knew it would be back. If it cut the rope before they were free of the whirlpool, then all had been for naught.
“There’s another!” Goldarrow called out. “Behind you!”
Grimwarden spun around so that it couldn’t hit Jimmy. The bulbous fish slid right alongside Grimwarden, its fin just inches away from his face. “Get us out of here!” he yelled.
Goldarrow and the others pulled in the rope, but it grew suddenly harder as if the current had intensified. “Come on!”
“They’re both coming right for you!” one of the flet soldiers yelled.
“No, they aren’t,” said Tommy. His bow sang twice.
Pierced by Tommy’s arrows, the two razorfish erupted in frantic thrashing. Their efforts were in vain.
Tommy dropped his bow and went back to helping the others pull Grimwarden and Jimmy toward the craft.
&
nbsp; “Where’d you get the other arrows?” Kat asked.
“The flet soldier behind you,” he said. “I reached between the boats and he gave me two arrows.”
“That’s good shooting,” Kat said.
“Thanks,” Tommy replied, feeling awkward and strangely happy.
Once completely free of the whirlpool’s current, Grimwarden handed a sodden Jimmy up to Goldarrow and Tommy.
Kat thought Jimmy looked like a squirrel that had fallen out of a tree and drowned in a pond. “Is he going to be okay?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Grimwarden. “We’ll both be fine.” Grimwarden swam over to the other flet soldiers and allowed them to help him aboard. “Mind the hand,” he said.
Tommy glanced back at the struggling razorfish. A third had appeared. Tommy watched it head right for the others. It submerged partially and swam directly beneath one of the wounded fish . . . and cut it in half.
The two cavesurfers slid slowly back to where the others had gathered at the bottom of the falls. When they arrived, they found Flet Marshall Brynn and Mr. Wallace sitting in a boat together.
“Mr. Wallace!” yelled Kat. “You’re alive!”
“Yes,” he replied weakly. “Thanks to Jett for hauling me out of the water.” He looked up and saw Jimmy. “Master Jimmy,” he said. “You made it.”
“Aye,” he said. “Barely.”
Kiri Lee sat up and said, “There aren’t any more tubes or falls or whirlpools or ANYTHING ELSE DANGEROUS, are there?”
“No,” said Grimwarden. “It’s a smooth ride from here on out.”
The cavesurfers raced along in utter darkness, the headlamps on each too damp to relight—even with Johnny’s now limited power. The young lords sat listening in the darkness, the chill air whistling in their ears, and shivering in their damp clothes from the waterfall dunk. The Elves spoke in hushed voices as they deftly maneuvered the swift current of the underground river.
Tommy felt they were going west, far from the Dark Veil. One wrong move might send us into a sheer wall or a ridge lurking an inch under the surface, Tommy thought.
Venom and Song Page 4
