by Sean Russell
They struggled on, assisting each other more often—taking turns providing encouragement, convincing the others to go on. A third candle went into the lantern, and they stopped for a long rest, most of them falling into an odd sleep, rousing every few moments, but unable to stay awake. Erasmus did not sleep but watched the irreplaceable candle burn too quickly down—wasting their invaluable light—but it could not be helped. The others had passed beyond the limits of their endurance.
When he had seated the fourth candle into the lantern, Erasmus roused the others, forcing them up, making them all drink. They were cold again, and shivered terribly, but there was no time to warm themselves. They had, at most, five hours of light, and once that was gone, they were all sure that no hope would remain.
Clarendon argued that they should explore on without him, and come back if they found a way to the surface, but the others would not even discuss it, but simply bore him up, and he was too weak to argue. They took turns helping him now, two at a time, and changed this duty frequently.
They came down a steep section of tumbling water, and at the bottom found what Erasmus had most dreaded—a pool. Both Hayes and Kehler cast themselves down on a rock, hiding their faces for they knew there was no way out, now.
“We could have died in the light, at least,” Clarendon said, as Rose and Erasmus lowered him to a rock.
“I cannot believe that I have come so far at such cost only to end here,” Hayes said. “Flames, I will go with a curse for Eldrich on my lips!” And he put his head in his hands and silent sobs shook his shoulders.
“What will we do now?” Clarendon said, taking up the task of providing hope. Or at least an example of resolution.
Erasmus looked at their candle, which had burned down to its final half inch. Only one remained. “I will take the lantern and go back up the passage. Perhaps there is an opening we missed.”
The priest shook his head. “Five pairs of eyes searched as we descended, Mr. Flattery. Looking again will be of little use.”
“Have you a better plan, then?”
Rose thought for a moment. “How high are we, do you think?”
Erasmus was taken aback by this. “Why do you ask?”
“There are openings into the lake that are only accessible at the low waters found in summer. Could this pool connect to the lake? Clearly the water must go somewhere.”
This caught the attention of everyone and they fell to musing.
“I think we are above the lake by some distance yet,” Clarendon said, his voice drawn taut by pain. “The chamber was above the Fairy Galleries and they are quite high up the hillside as it is. We have come down only a little more than halfway, I think.”
Silence followed his words, and they all sat apart, shivering, thinking about the end, and the two hours of light that the last candle would bring. Erasmus picked up the lantern and walked along the edge of the pool, holding the light high so that it would penetrate to the farthest reaches of the chamber. His efforts only proved that the dark patches were shadows, and not openings as he hoped. Disheartened, he sat down again. There was no exit from this room except the way they had come. It was the end.
He stared down into the black waters where a few bubbles floated, caused by the water falling into the pool. They bobbed across the pool in a fan, disappearing as they went, so that only a few touched the far shore.
Erasmus stood suddenly, holding the lantern high again. “Have a look here,” he said. “Do some of these bubbles seem to disappear, there, in the far wall? Is that another shadow or a small opening?” He pointed. “Do you see where I mean? Just in the center.”
The others gathered about and Erasmus handed the lantern to Hayes and put his foot into the water, testing to see if there was a bottom. Taking the lantern back, he waded out into the water, which was almost immediately chest deep.
“It is an opening!” he called back. “Right at the surface. Flames, it is small.” The bottom dropped off so that he could no longer walk, and Hayes plunged in after him and took the lantern, holding it up as best he could while Erasmus swam the few strokes to the far side.
The current here was far swifter than he expected and almost swept him into the opening. He grabbed the rock and felt inside with his hand, and then a foot.
“It is deep. No. I can touch the bottom, but just.”
The current grabbed him but he hauled himself back by gripping the stone.
“I don’t know if it has air in it for any distance. There is less than a foot clear just inside.”
“Sailors say that drowning is painless,” Rose said, “though I don’t understand how they would know.”
“It likely doesn’t have air for far,” Erasmus said, “but give me the end of the rope and I will explore what I can. I would rather die trying than huddling in the dark.”
Erasmus swam back to the others and Rose knotted the rope about his waist.
“Your voice will likely be indistinct, Mr. Flattery, so call like this. Call ‘out’ once for more rope, and ‘in, in’ for us to draw you back. Your words will likely to be distorted, but we will be able to distinguish between one word and two.”
“Will you take the lantern?” Hayes asked.
Clarendon nodded. “You must, Mr. Flattery. We will light the last candle and guard it here, while you take the lantern.”
Erasmus considered this. The idea of going into darkness was terrifying, but he was sure the candle would be doused in a moment, for he would need both hands to make his way in the current.
“Keep it here, but hold it low to the water and I will have some light for the first few feet. It likely goes no further than that.”
Erasmus went back into the cold water, knowing that he would lose his strength within minutes, so there was no time to spare. He forced his muscles to obey, floating quickly into the opening, grabbing the sides as he could, but carried swiftly in. He would never be able to swim out but would have to trust to the others and the rope.
The feeble light from the lantern disappeared in a moment and he was in darkness, trying to feel ahead of him in case the ceiling came down and knocked him senseless. His strength faded, and soon he was swept along, struggling to keep his mouth above the surface. And then suddenly the rope went taut, cutting into his middle.
“In, in!” he hollered. “In, in!” he shouted again. “Flames, I will die here in a moment.”
There was a tug on the rope, and then a harder one that pulled his head under, but he pushed himself up, bracing his feet against the sides.
Bit by bit he was drawn out, scrabbling against the sides of the passage, fighting to keep his head above water. Many mouthfuls of water later he caught a glimpse of fitful light, and a moment later he was out in the pool again, and splashing across to the others.
“Does it go?” Hayes asked, wading out into the water and helping Erasmus to the shore.
“I—I don’t know. There was air as far as I went, but beyond that I can’t say. Certainly I could not have come back without your help.”
They all looked at each other, Hayes and Kehler shaking their heads.
“It is a great risk,” Clarendon said.
“But certainly death will find us here,” Erasmus said. “In two hours we will be in darkness, huddled together, starving, though we will die of lack of heat before.” He looked back at the tiny opening, not sure that he was really ready to go in there again, in with no chance of returning.
Hayes rose to his feet. “Look, we can tie the rope around that horn near the opening. That will give us at least twenty feet more rope.” He looked at Erasmus. “I will try it this time.”
“No, Hayes. . . . It will be difficult if you can’t swim.”
“Yes, but if it goes anywhere, we all must go into it, and none but you can swim, Erasmus. Is it not narrow? Can I not pull myself up on the walls?”
; Erasmus shook his head. “Not easily. You’re so weakened. We are all so weakened. No, I will try it once more. Give the rope to me.”
“Then I’ll come with you,” Hayes said. “In some of the deeper pools I felt myself float up, and by moving my arms and legs, I managed to propel myself forward. I’m willing to try. Better you not go alone.”
Erasmus looked at the determination on the young man’s face—far preferable to the despair that had been written there. Erasmus nodded and they plunged into the pool. Hayes tied a loop over a horn of rock, for Erasmus’ fingers would not work, and then they took the rope in both their hands and went into the passage, their legs streaming out behind them.
Twenty feet in, Erasmus felt his fingers slipping. “Hayes! I can’t hold on.” Erasmus felt Hayes’ hand take hold of his shirt, and they hung there for a moment, gasping for breath but unable to go back. Hayes was spitting out water, struggling to keep his head above the surface, and then suddenly Erasmus’ fingers slipped, his shirt tore away and he was swept into the darkness.
“Go back!” he yelled and went with the current, no strength left to resist.
Hayes called his name, and then Erasmus was fighting to keep his head above water, the walls tearing at him as he swept by on the current. Once the ceiling dropped down, cracking him hard on the forehead, forcing him under, but he fought his way back up and found air again. Then he plunged down a smooth slide, coughing up water, scrabbling to rise, but the current had him, and he felt himself surrender. He could fight no longer. And the darkness took him.
Just as Erasmus felt he was lost, he found himself suddenly floating in calm water, coughing up great mouthfuls of the stuff. Rock came under his feet and he stood, stumbling back into the water, and then rising again.
“Flames . . .” he whispered. “I’m alive. Bloody . . .” He was racked by coughing, and fell again, but now the water was so shallow that he sat with it not even to his chest.
And then he heard splashing. Though he felt barely able to move, he plunged back into the water, thrashing around with his arms, searching the darkness. “Hayes . . . ? Hayes!”
He moved toward the sound of splashing and suddenly gripped a handful of hair and pulled the young man up, spluttering and coughing.
“Don’t struggle! I have you. Damn it, man, don’t struggle. Just here you can stand.” He hauled the choking boy into the shallows and pounded him on the back. For a moment he thought Hayes would expire, and Erasmus began to beat him with all his remaining strength, and suddenly Hayes twisted away from him.
“You don’t need to . . . murder me,” Hayes gasped, and was gripped by another spasm of coughing.
Not knowing what to do, Erasmus kept dragging his companion into shallower water until they were on dry, smooth stone where they lay, shivering and coughing.
“Well, here we are,” Hayes said at last, his voice coming out of total darkness, and though they were only a foot apart the sound seemed to have no source. “And the others will never know what has happened.”
“And I’m not sure we’re better off,” Erasmus said, feeling an exhaustion in his limbs such as he had never known. “I haven’t the strength to go another step.”
“No. . . .” Hayes stopped. “Listen! Did you hear that?”
Erasmus tried to control his gasping for breath. “Are they calling?” He forced himself up, swaying on his knees. “Where is it coming from?”
In the darkness sounds echoed, seeming to expand to fill the chamber, their source mysterious. It was even difficult to tell where Hayes’ voice was coming from. Erasmus waded back into the water, feeling the current and pushing against it. Hayes shouted behind him, the sound echoing around the chamber for an impossibly extended moment.
“This room must be enormous,” Hayes called to him. “Where are you, Erasmus?”
“Here. Let me try to find the way we came in.”
The flow of the water became stronger and pushed him away to one side, but finally he found the source. An opening much like the one they’d first entered, but discharging a strong flow of water. He pulled himself along the rock wall, leaning his head out so that he could call into the opening.
He shouted as loudly as he possibly could—no words, for none would carry—just a sound. Anything to let the others know he was alive. There was a long silence, and then a dull echo, garbled, unintelligible, as though the rock complained of its ancient pain. Erasmus shouted again. He waited and there was a response. Two distinct noises this time.
“Hayes? Is that an echo, do you think?”
“I . . . it is impossible to say. Call again.”
Erasmus tried to copy what he’d heard, in both number and duration.
Three distinct calls returned. Erasmus called four, so they would not think it an echo.
“That is them,” he said to Hayes. “It must be.”
“What will they do, Erasmus?” Hayes asked. “Will they try to come through?”
“I don’t know. All we can do is call and hope they realize we’re still alive.” Silence. Only the sound of water moving, and dripping down from overhead.
Erasmus did not know what to do. He shivered uncontrollably, now, his fingers slipping on the stone. He let the current take him, drifting him back.
“Hayes? Speak so I might find you.”
“I’m here.” They both floundered around in the water for a moment, and lumbered into each other, causing Hayes to fall, where he sat in the water, laughing.
“I don’t know how in this round world you can laugh, Hayes, but I do admire it.”
They helped each other onto the stone, sitting back to back for the little warmth of contact, wondering what they would do now.
“If you were the others, what would you do?” Hayes asked quietly.
Erasmus considered a moment. “I would likely try to come through, but then I can swim and haven’t such a fear of the water.”
“I would do the same. So we should be ready for them,” Hayes said. “If one of them is rendered senseless as he comes through, he could float right past us and we would never know.”
“Yes,” Erasmus said, gently exploring the wound on his own forehead. “But if we go stand in the water, we will be even more cold than we are now, and I am near to freezing.”
“I am as well. . . . Then we must listen.”
They fell silent, imagining white swollen bodies floating by in the darkness.
“Do you think she got out?” Hayes asked suddenly.
“Anna? I don’t know. She could not have been far ahead of Banks, so it is unlikely. I’m surprised we didn’t find her, though. Can you imagine doing this on your own? No, even if she survived Rose’s flood, she would likely not have made it through the tunnel that just vomited us out here.”
“Yes, but what if she found some other way that we missed? It’s not impossible.”
“No, it’s . . .” But he did not finish, for the sound of something floundering in the water stopped him.
Both Erasmus and Hayes leaped into the water, calling, and suddenly Hayes cried out.
“I have him!”
For a moment Erasmus could not find them, though he could clearly hear someone coughing and another pounding him on the back, but try as he might he could not get closer to the sound. Then his hand found Hayes in the darkness.
“Who is it?” Erasmus asked.
“Kehler, I think,” Hayes said. “He makes a very distinctive sound when he’s trying to drown. Kehler? Are you whole, man?”
Kehler continued to cough and it was some minutes before he could speak. “Rose and Clare . . .” He began to cough again.
“Clarendon, yes . . . What of them?”
“They’re going to come through together. Bloody martyr’s balls, that was the most terrifying experience of my life.”
Erasmus found the young man in
the dark and put a hand on his shoulder. Certainly it had been no less awful for them.
They fell silent, only their breathing and something that Erasmus identified after a moment as his own teeth chattering.
They listened, and suddenly heard the sounds of the others splashing. Hayes and Erasmus plunged back into the water, and in a moment had Rose and Clarendon out on the rock. For some reason they were not so badly off, and recovered more quickly.
The five of them huddled there in the dark, shaking violently, wondering what they would do now.
“Whose turn is it to t-tell their story?” Hayes whispered, and the others actually managed to laugh.
“Do we have the rope?” Erasmus asked.
“I tried to bring it, but it snagged and was lost,” the priest said.
“Well, I thought we should tie ourselves together like blind men, but we will have to stay close. I have some strength left, enough to explore this chamber. There must be a way out. The water has to go somewhere.”
“I will not go into another such passage,” Kehler said. “Do not even ask me.”
“I will stay here and die with Kehler,” Hayes said. “But if there is a dry passage, I might manage a few more feet.”
Erasmus pushed himself up.
“I will help you, Mr. Flattery,” Rose said. “I will search one side of the chamber if you will tackle the other.”
Erasmus went back into the water, not caring how frigid it was. He could not possibly be colder than he was. He swam a few strokes until his hand found rock, and then he lumbered awkwardly up onto a ledge. Here he began to search with his cold and battered hands until he found a wall, and this he explored as high as he could reach until the ledge ended in water. Making a mental note that the water’s edge beyond this would need to be explored, he went back the other way, deciding to stay dry for now. He searched it all again for he could not tell where he had begun, but nothing felt familiar. His mind was not working as it should, that was certain.
