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Sinead just shook her head.
Ian cast a frightened glance back into the darkness, where the explosions kept happening. They seemed to be getting closer.
"We've got to get this," he muttered. "We don't have much time!"
He put his end of Jonah's sling down on the ground and began typing on a keypad beside the door. It had letter keys like a cell phone.
"I'll try Reunion," he muttered. "No. Peace. No." He slammed his hand against the keys. "Stupid, useless, worthless--"
"Maybe it's Romeo and Juliet Kiss and Make Up," Dan suggested.
"Dan, Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy, not a comedy," Amy said. "And both of them die at the end of the play, so there couldn't be a sequel."
Dan hadn't known that. He kind of wished he didn't know it now.
"Pretty much the entire younger generation dies in that play," Sinead muttered.
Dan glanced around. Almost the entire younger generation of Cahills was here, trapped in this cave.
"Maybe Jonah knows the answer," Dan said, his voice raspy.
He went over and gently shook Jonah's shoulders. Jonah moaned, his face contorted in pain. Natalie leaned down and slapped him.
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"Jonah!" she shouted. "You have to wake up and answer a question!"
Jonah's eyelids fluttered.
"Wha--wha--" he began weakly. " ...'Sup?"
"What do you know about lost Shakespeare plays?" Natalie asked.
"Don't tell... fans ... I know..." Jonah murmured.
"But tell us," Ian demanded. "Tell us, or you might bleed to death, right here."
Could he? Dan wondered. Even in the dim light, he could see dark spots growing on the cloths Sinead had wrapped around Jonah's legs as improvised bandages. Jonah probably had lost a lot of blood.
"Double Falsehood," Jonah whispered, still wincing in pain. "The History of Cardenio. And Love's Labour's--"
"Love's Labour's Lost is a Shakespeare play everybody knows about," Sinead scoffed.
"Not Lost," Jonah murmured. "Won. Love's Labour's Won."
"We'll try it," Amy said, rushing to the keypad. She typed in the answer --and the door clicked open.
In the next second, Dan felt the flashlight being yanked from his hand.
"Hey!" he yelled.
Natalie zoomed away from him, holding up the flashlight like a prize. The beam swung crazily around, highlighting the ceiling and then the floor on the other side of the door.
Dan gasped.
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"No, Natalie! Wait!" he screamed. "You'll-"
Natalie crashed forward, her first step through the doorway plunging her over the side of a cliff. Dan grabbed desperately for her, managing to grab her ankle. The momentum of her body yanked him toward the cliff as well.
Dan felt Amy's hands on his foot. But now she was sliding forward, too.
"AHHHHH!" Natalie cried.
"Help!" Dan screamed.
"Somebody! Please!" Amy begged.
Dan could see the flashlight continuing to fall, down and down and down.
And then everything went dark.
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"Natalie!" Ian screamed. "Natalie, no!"
He dived forward, aiming blindly for the spot where he'd last seen Dan and Amy and his sister. He ended up in a jumble in the doorway. Somebody's elbow was in his ear, and somebody else's knee was in his back, and somebody else's face was smashed against his arm. The only other time Ian had been in such a twisted knot of arms and legs was back at the Globe, when everyone was fighting over the next hint.
This time everyone was trying to save Natalie and Amy and Dan.
"I'm going to die!" Natalie screamed from below.
"No, no, I'm holding on to you," Dan said frantically, beneath Ian. "But I need help --"
"I'm trying!" Hamilton grunted, near Ian's ear.
A weight shifted above him --evidently Hamilton was right on top of him.
"No!" Ian screamed. "If you lean forward, we'll all slide over the cliff! You'll knock us over!"
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"Then what am I supposed to do?" Hamilton grumbled.
"Hold my ankles," Ian said. "Anchor me." To his surprise, Hamilton shifted backward and did as Ian said.
"Sinead, you hold on to Amy," Alistair instructed.
Anchored by Hamilton's firm grip, Ian reached toward the sound of his sister's voice. He got a hold on her ankle, his hand right beside Dan's. They both pulled, working in tandem.
And then Natalie was sitting with everyone else at the top of the cliff, in the doorway. She sobbed in the darkness.
"I could have died," she wailed. "I thought I was going to die...."
"You're okay now," Ian said, hugging her. "You're safe."
He could feel bloody scrapes on her arms and face; he was probably getting blood all over himself. He didn't care.
Dan saved Natalie, just like Amy saved me back on Everest, he thought. He felt a slight pang of guilt about what he'd been planning to do.
And what he still planned to do.
He didn't want to think about that right now. All he had room for in his brain was relief.
"You're safe," he repeated to Natalie.
For now.
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Amy sat in the dark, listening to the others talk. When she couldn't see their faces, they sounded different.
More scared. More battered and bruised and aching and anguished --just like Amy felt.
"What do we do now?" Dan asked, his voice shaking.
"Mum is coming," Natalie moaned. "I lost the flashlight and there's a cliff we can't even see and now we can't go on.... She'll catch us before--"
"Flint," Sinead said.
"What?" Hamilton said. Amy heard total confusion in his voice. "Why would you talk about a city in Michigan at a time like this?"
"Not Flint the city," Sinead said. "Flint the mineral."
"For fire," Alistair said.
Ooooh, Amy thought. Then there's a chance...
"I'm sure I saw some traces of flint in the rocks of this tunnel," Sinead said. "If we start striking rocks against the walls and hold up bits of rope against the rock as soon as we see a spark ..."
"Then maybe we'll be able to have torches," Alistair said. "It's a pity we don't have any gasoline or lighter fluid to soak the ropes in."
"Would perfume help?" Natalie asked, shifting sideways. Amazingly, she'd kept a grip on her purse, even when she was dangling by one ankle over the cliff.
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"Only you would be carrying around perfume at a time like this," Amy said.
"No, Mu--" Natalie began. She stopped. "No, I'm not."
But Amy knew what she'd been about to say: No, Mum would, too.
It was hard in the dark, but they all maneuvered around so that in a few moments they had strands of rope lying on the floor. Natalie began dowsing them in her perfume.
As soon as the first whiff of it hit Amy's nose, she recoiled.
"That perfume! It's--" Dan started gagging.
"I know! I know! It's the same as Mum's! I'm sorry!" Natalie wailed.
The scent was like Isabel's evil whispering all around them: I'm coming for you. You can never win against me. I killed your parents. Don't you know I'll kill you, too?
It was all Amy could do to force herself to take one of the perfume-soaked ropes. She began bashing a rock against the wall with extra fervor. Around her, everyone else was hitting the walls just as hard.
"You're too loud!" Ian screamed. "You'll lead Mum right to us!"
For a moment, everyone paused, the evil scent swirling around them.
"There's only one path through the tunnel," Alistair said quietly. "If what you say is true, Isabel is coming toward us no matter what."
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They all went back to hitting the wall. Again and again and again and again ...
Hamilton was the first one to get a spark--probably because he could hit the hardest. Then he t
ried to get a second spark to leap to the perfume-soaked rope.
"Hold it closer," Dan suggested.
"Separate the rope fibers more -- down to individual strands," Alistair suggested.
"Go faster," Ian suggested.
"Every single one of you --shut up!" Hamilton commanded, pounding harder with the rocks.
Amy leaned weakly against the wall. Were those footsteps she heard in the distance or just the echo of Hamilton's pounding?
The tunnel swam with Isabel's scent. Amy felt as if she were drowning in it. Drowning in perfume and fear and darkness and Isabel's evil...
There's no hope, she thought.
And then Hamilton's rope strand caught fire.
* * *
Amy ignited her section of rope from Hamilton's as everyone else crowded in to do the same.
"Hey, hey, watch it," Hamilton grumbled as Dan swung his rope around. "Don't go setting me on fire."
The ropes were too limp to work well as torches. They couldn't be held aloft. Amy could only carry hers awkwardly off to the side, the flames licking up dangerously toward her hand.
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Amy didn't like holding fire any more than she'd liked smelling the perfume. Each leaping flame reminded her of that awful night her parents died, that awful night Irina died.
"What good does it do to have light if there's nothing but a cliff ahead of us?" Natalie grumbled.
"There's a ledge," Alistair said, holding his own rope torch out before him. "Off to the side." He stepped out onto it but kept his burning rope down low, by the cliff. "This is such an odd pattern for a crater, if all the explosions were above us. I wonder ..."
"What?" Ian asked, his voice thick with anxiety. "What does it mean?"
"I couldn't say," Alistair said.
Even with all the burning ropes, it was too dark for Amy to read Alistair's expression. She couldn't tell if he was honestly puzzled, or if he was holding back information, as he had so many times before.
They all inched forward along the ledge.
Don't think about the dark, gaping hole before you, Amy told herself. Don't think about how you'll die if your foot slips. Don't think about how Dan could die if he slips. Don't think about fire and death. Think about...
"Jonah?" she called out into the darkness. She wasn't even sure if he was still conscious. "How are you doing?"
"Yo, I've been better," he said weakly. Ian and Hamilton were still carrying him, but they kept
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having to swing him out over the cliff to avoid knocking him against outcroppings of rock.
Now that she was listening, she could hear Jonah gasping softly every few paces, probably because of his broken bones being jarred.
Was it crueler to take Jonah along or to leave him behind?
And let Isabel find him? Amy thought with a shiver. That would be cruelest of all.
The ledge sloped sharply downward, a seemingly endless descent. Amy wondered if they were back down to the level of the beach and the cemetery yet. Maybe they were even lower than that. Maybe they were beneath the ocean.
"Here's another locked door," Alistair called from the front of the line. "And -- another keypad for five of us to hit."
It took some shifting around to get someone from each branch to the front of the line. They hit the buttons on the keypad, and then there was a long pause.
"Did we do something wrong?" Dan asked. "It's not-"
Just then the door swung open.
This time everyone was cautious stepping forward. Even before she'd crossed the threshold, Amy could tell that the darkness before her was a much larger space than the narrow corridors they'd been climbing through most of the day. Beneath her feet, rather than endless rock, there was a stone-and-mortar patterned
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floor. Dark marks stained the floor --ash? A memory of ash?
"Look," Dan breathed beside her. He held his burning rope up so Amy could see a metal plaque on the wall:
THIS IS ALL THAT REMAINS
OF THE LABORATORY
OF GIDEON CAHILL
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"This is where Gideon Cahill made his serum!" Dan hissed. "So this must be where the prize is!"
Belatedly, he realized that he shouldn't have spoken so loudly. But it didn't matter--everybody else was peering at the plaque, too.
"We have to be first!" Dan shouted at Amy. He grabbed her arm, pulling her deeper into the darkness. "We have to!"
* * *
Ian and Hamilton dropped Jonah's sling simultaneously, causing Jonah to scream in pain. "Sorry, dude," Hamilton muttered. "I'll--" What? Make it up to Jonah someday? He couldn't. Not unless he shared the prize with Jonah, too, and Hamilton had no intention of doing that.
Hamilton took off running, leaving Jonah behind.
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"Natalie!" Ian cried out. "We have to beat everyone else! You know what to do!"
He gazed around frantically, his rope torch illuminating such a small space around him. Broken glass crunched under his feet. He was so rich, so handsome, so talented, so smart. But it was heartbreaking -- none of that guaranteed that he and Natalie would win.
* * *
The pain was unbearable.
You could just let go, Jonah told himself. Already he was slipping in and out of consciousness, imagining lights dancing all around the room.
But Jonah had been battling to be the biggest star in the world ever since he could pick up a microphone. He wasn't one to give up. And this battle was even more important.
He propped himself up on his elbows and began crawling.
* * *
"This is for you, Ned and Ted," Sinead whispered.
She peered down at a rack that must once have contained test tubes --or whatever the 1507 equivalent was. Perhaps there was a trace of something important in the blobs of wax melted on the rack. Or perhaps
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something had seeped down into the charred table beneath the rack.
Too many possibilities, Sinead thought despairingly. Too much to sort through too quickly.
But she had to find the serum. It was Ned and Ted's only chance.
* * *
The children are all faster than you, Alistair reminded himself. So you have to be craftier.
While the others ran about desperately, Alistair watched the glow of their bobbing lights.
A table in the middle of the room, Alistair thought. A wall to the right.
And to the left?
No matter how far the others ventured to the left, Alistair saw no other wall, no end to the open space. And so that's the way to go, Alistair thought. He began tiptoeing away from the others.
* * *
"Watch where Alistair's going!" Amy called out to Dan.
Dan nodded and veered to the left. Even in the near-total darkness, Dan could tell that the room opened out --maybe becoming another room? He dodged another charred table and a fallen beam. He swung close enough to the wall to see another metal plaque:
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UNDER THE LEADERSHIP
OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE,
MADRIGALS MADE A MAJOR
ATTEMPT AT RECONCILIATION
IN THIS LAB IN 1611.
THE ATTEMPT FAILED.
Another lab, Dan thought. The Madrigals kept trying, just like they're trying now. There could be a whole string of labs--I've got to find the newest one.
He took off running. He was dimly aware that others were running alongside him --sometimes ahead of him, sometimes behind. Rooms flashed by, and he caught glimpses of more plaques: ATTEMPT IN 1783 ... TRIED AGAIN IN 1848 ... ANOTHER EFFORT IN 1914 ... He didn't pause to read any of them thoroughly, but he could tell that each plaque ended similarly: FAILED ... FAILURE ... ABJECT DEFEAT ... Each room he passed through was destroyed: charred, collapsed, exploded. The Madrigals had tried again and again and again to reunite their family, and each time they'd failed.
Soon Dan could no longer run because h
e had to pick his way through the wreckage of toppled walls,
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twisted metal beams, hulking broken machinery. The destruction and failure had just gotten bigger and more dramatic with each attempt.
We can't fail this time, Dan thought, diving frantically through the wreckage. Amy and me--we have to win.
Ahead of him, the wreckage seemed to end. He swung his burning rope down toward the floor and saw clean, unscarred linoleum. He lifted the rope torch higher, and off in the darkness before him something seemed to glow in response. Glass, maybe, reflecting his light.
Not just glass, Dan realized, squinting. A vial. A huge vial. Containing ... liquid. It had to be the serum.
"Is this what you're looking for?" a voice purred in the darkness.
Dan blinked, and in that moment the entire room was flooded with harsh, glaring light. Somebody had flipped a switch.
Now Dan could see who it was. He could see who'd spoken. He could see who was holding the vial.
It was Isabel.
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"No!" Amy wailed, falling in the wreckage. "No! Ian and Natalie --they said Isabel was behind us!"
"We thought she was!" Ian protested. He seemed frozen in place. Amy was surprised he wasn't trotting off to join his mother in the clean, modern lab ahead of them.
Isabel laughed, a horrible sound.
"You all proved so easy to fool," she said lightly in the cultured, confident voice that Amy had once admired. Now it hurt to listen. "Even the Madrigals didn't think about someone entering the gauntlet backward, laying explosives at strategic spots as decoys, lying in wait...."
"But the explosions--you could have killed Ian and me!" Natalie complained.
"Wait--are Ian and Natalie still on Isabel's side or not?" Dan asked.
The 39 Clues Book 10: Into the Gauntlet Page 17
