by Jon Mayhew
‘That’s true,’ Dakkar sighed. He could see that Mary wouldn’t give up. He craned his neck and scanned the horizon. A thin ribbon of silver glistened among the trees. ‘It’s a river,’ he said to himself, an idea forming. ‘Gog,’ he called to the giant and pointed at the Liberty. ‘Can you bring that down for me?’
A flicker of indecision crossed Gog’s face. Dakkar could read it with ease. Georgia had told him to keep it safe and now Dakkar was asking to look at it.
‘You can trust me,’ Dakkar pleaded. ‘Georgia, the girl, she was my friend too. We’ve fought Cryptos – the Rohaga – before together.’
Gog paused for a moment more, then strode over to the stones that anchored the ropes holding the Liberty up above them. He called two other giants over and together they lowered the craft gently on to the ground. Dakkar marvelled at the giants’ strength.
Soon, the Liberty sat, dusty and tilted to one side on her rounded hull. Dakkar clambered up and opened the front hatch. It smelt fusty. The light of the fire filtered through the portholes, casting long shadows as Dakkar slipped inside.
It all looked so familiar – a copy of his own Makara, the prototype small submersible. There was just a cabin below and the smaller captain’s cabin above, which housed all the controls. Georgia’s uncle, Robert Fulton, had built this craft at the same time as Oginski built the Makara, each helping the other as they came across problems or difficulties.
The floor sloped but Dakkar managed to clamber along. He swept his fingers through strands of cobwebs that stretched between the chairs and tables. He lifted the lids of the boxes at either side of the cabin. Empty. Normally these held Sea Arrows, projectiles with explosive tips that were fired by a powerful spring – with deadly effect. Did Georgie have to use them? Dakkar wondered.
He came to the back of the lower cabin and pressed his ear against the wooden wall that screened off the engine. Originally the Liberty had been powered by a cleverly geared clockwork motor. This had been replaced by a section of the Eye of Neptune, an electrically charged meteor fragment that Dakkar had rescued from the seabed near Cryptos’s volcano lair. Dakkar could hear it humming quietly behind the wall. He smiled. The Liberty was in working order.
‘It’s like bein’ inside a great big barrel!’ Mary said, making Dakkar jump. He hadn’t noticed her climb down behind him. He pursed his lips.
‘The planks are fitted much more closely together,’ he muttered, climbing up into the smaller cabin above.
He pulled a face as he beat the dust from the seat and slid into it. He could see the curious faces of the giants peering in through the portholes, their faces blurred by the dusty glass.
Running his hands over the wheel, he thought of Georgia and Oginski. ‘What if they’re both dead?’ he whispered.
‘Who?’ Mary asked, poking her head through the hatch below.
‘None of your business!’ Dakkar yelled, making Mary flinch. ‘Who are you anyway? Why did you drag me down here?’
‘I didn’t drag you. You followed me, remember?’ Mary snapped back. ‘An’ I’m the only friend you’ve got at the moment so just you bear that in mind!’
She disappeared back into the lower cabin and Dakkar heard her stamping back to the front hatch and climbing out.
Dakkar sat for some time gripping the wheel of the sub. An uneasy feeling sat in the pit of his stomach. As if he’d forgotten something or something wasn’t quite right. He shook his head and climbed through the upper hatch, which brought him out on to the very top of the Liberty.
Gog watched him from the fire, the flames reflecting in the giant’s dark eyes. Dakkar wandered over and sat down next to him.
‘You sad,’ Gog said. He pulled a stick from the fire and rolled some lizard meat from it. ‘Eat.’
Dakkar swallowed hard as he looked at the scorched flesh but he bit into it. To his surprise, it tasted good. He wasn’t sure when he’d last eaten but he knew he was hungry.
‘I want to find my friend,’ Dakkar said, pausing before taking a second bite. ‘I want to bring her back from the Rohaga.’
Gog paused, chewing thoughtfully. ‘Many have died,’ he said. ‘Many friends taken by Rohaga.’ He looked around at what was left of his tribe. ‘Soon all Gog’s people will be taken. This will end. Tomorrow we go to save Gog’s tribe. You can come with Gog.’
‘Who taught you my language, Gog?’ Dakkar asked after eating the rest of the meat. ‘Was it Georgia – the girl?’
Gog shook his head. ‘Stefan,’ he said, giving a deep sigh. ‘He came here. Hungry. Dying. We fed him. Healed him.’
‘Where is this Stefan now?’ Dakkar said.
Gog pointed out of the cave and shook his head. ‘He left,’ he said. ‘He tricked us. We built his big house. He bring more little men here.’
‘The Rohaga?’ Dakkar said.
‘Yes.’ Gog nodded. ‘The riders. Now he hunts us.’
‘This Stefan,’ Dakkar said, watching Gog’s haunted face in the firelight, ‘did he have any other names?’
‘Another name,’ Gog agreed. ‘Og . . . Og . . .’ He struggled to pronounce the word.
‘Oginski?’ Dakkar said. ‘Stefan Oginski?’
‘Yes,’ Gog said, poking the fire with a stick. ‘That name.’
Dakkar sat back, his fears confirmed. Another Oginski brother is here, Dakkar thought. Another Count Cryptos is only a few miles away.
‘The river,’ Dakkar said, drawing a squiggly line in the sand that covered the cave floor. ‘It goes past Stefan’s tower?’
‘Yes. It deep . . . long,’ Gog said, tracing a huge finger over the line in the sand. ‘Full of danger.’
‘But maybe with the Liberty we can use stealth and catch the Rohaga by surprise,’ Dakkar said, his voice hollow. Gog frowned and Dakkar wasn’t sure if he hadn’t understood or if he didn’t think much of the idea.
‘Sleep,’ Gog said. ‘Then we go.’
‘I don’t think I can sleep.’ Dakkar sighed but he felt the events of the day – or was it the night? – catching up with him. His eyelids were heavy, his limbs weak.
Gog dragged a musty fur to Dakkar and dropped it over him. Although he didn’t really feel cold, Dakkar pulled it round his shoulders and over his head, blotting out the constant light from the cave mouth. In the distance something roared and hissed.
Georgia is down there somewhere, Dakkar thought. Tomorrow I’ll find her!
Chapter Sixteen
Gacheela
It was pitch black when Dakkar awoke. He felt pinned down. Somewhere close by, deep voices chanted – a single voice calling then several others grunting in response. Panic tightened his stomach as he lashed out with foot and fist. Light dazzled him as the heavy fur cover flew off and landed on the embers of the fire, sending grey ashes fluttering everywhere.
Remembering where he was, Dakkar snatched the fur before the remaining embers set it alight. The chanting continued and Dakkar realised that it was Gog and his men heaving the Liberty out of the cave and down the steep cliff face. Long, plaited vines held by three, grimacing, sweating giants stretched across the cavern and out of the cave mouth.
One of the giant children scampered over, offering him a strange-looking, spiky-leaved fruit. Dakkar smiled and took the fruit. The child gave a gap-toothed grin and hurried back to his mother, who sat in the shadows of the cave, sharpening a spearhead. Breaking open the fruit, Dakkar bit into the sweet flesh inside. It tasted good.
A cry from the men brought his attention back to the Liberty. Dakkar could picture her dangling halfway between the cave and the ground. One slip and she would crash to the earth, shattering in pieces. She was tough and could stand a battering from the sea, but a drop like that would crack her like an egg on granite.
Mary stood by the cave entrance, peering down. Dakkar joined her and craned his neck to see what progress the giants had made. The Liberty hung below them, swaying in the breeze. Gog stood on the steps, steadying her, and two more men on higher steps gri
pped the vines that held her, but they had all frozen.
Two enormous creatures glided past, only feet from Dakkar.
‘Gacheela,’ Mary whispered.
The flying lizards were every bit as horrible as she had said they were. Dakkar could see the leathery skin that formed wings between their scaly arms. Small, clawed feet poked out behind their plump bodies. Their long beaks lined with sharp teeth made them look like they were grinning. They reminded him of the dolphins he’d seen on his travels – but these creatures looked far from friendly. They circled, their wings fluttering on the warm thermals that drifted up from the jungle below. All the time they eyed Gog and the two men.
Dakkar hurried back into the cave and grabbed the rifle he had scavenged from the fallen Cryptos guard. With trembling hands he poured powder into the barrel.
‘Mary,’ he shouted, ‘come over here and help me load the other rifle!’
Mary hurried to his side and grabbed the gun.
The Gacheela had drawn closer by the time Dakkar and Mary returned. Gog stood, back pressed against the rock, as the huge lizard swept down towards him.
Dakkar pressed the stock of the rifle to his shoulder and took aim.
A sickening screech threw Dakkar off his aim and he glanced up. A third flyer had joined the other two. It looked bigger, and scars across its belly and neck told Dakkar that it was a veteran of many battles.
Dakkar had an idea. His timing had to be perfect but it might just work. He leaned against the edge of the cave mouth and trained his rifle on the new arrival. This Gacheela swooped above the other two, who had edged closer to Gog and the two tribesmen.
Holding his breath, Dakkar squeezed the trigger. The kick of the rifle numbed his shoulder and, for a moment, the smoke from the firing pan obscured his vision. But an angry squawk told him he had hit his mark. Now he saw the older bird spiralling down, a neat hole in its wing. It struck one of the smaller creatures, snapping and tearing at it as it fell. The second Gacheela sank its sharp teeth into its rival’s neck and the pair of them tumbled below, bouncing off rocks and finally vanishing with a thump into the canopy of leaves.
Dakkar grinned at Gog and the others, but they stared up in horror. The remaining creature had seen Dakkar and now it hurtled towards him, screeching, claws bared.
‘Mary, the rifle!’ Dakkar yelled.
Mary threw the rifle and Dakkar reached to grab it but the beast thudded into him, knocking him to the ground. The world was reduced to a flurry of leathery wings beating at him and sharp claws tearing at his jacket. Dakkar kicked out, catching the creature in its gut and pushing it away for a second.
The giant men in the cave looked on helplessly, realising that if they let go of the ropes the Liberty would crash down below. Some of the women edged forward, jabbing with spears. The Gacheela snapped at them with its long beak.
Something flashed in the corner of Dakkar’s eye. It was the machete he’d taken from the dead guard in the camp. Making a dash, he grabbed at the handle of the blade. The Gacheela bit at him, snagging his trouser leg in its teeth. Dakkar just had time to grasp the machete’s blade when the lizard took three powerful hops back, dragging him out of the cave and into mid-air.
Dakkar’s stomach churned and the world turned upside down. Suddenly the jungle was the sky and the clouds layered the earth. His hip and thigh burned as he dangled from the creature’s mouth, suspended from a few threads of trouser leg. Dakkar’s weight dragged the Gacheela down at first and its cries deafened him. Then it began to beat the air with its powerful wings and their descent slowed.
They swooped down. The tops of the trees whipped Dakkar’s face and shoulders. A branch clipped his elbow, nearly knocking the machete from his grasp. He glimpsed the forest floor far below through the leaves. Something with a long neck and too many teeth snapped at him from a passing branch. Dakkar felt its rancid breath on his cheek and then it vanished as they flew on. A tearing sound, followed by a slight jolt, told Dakkar that his trouser leg was ripping. The treetops began to rise away as the Gacheela beat furiously. In a few seconds, they’d be hundreds of feet up and Dakkar would fall.
If I fall now then maybe the trees will save me, he thought. Any higher and I’m dead.
With a yell of rage, Dakkar pulled himself up, swinging the blade as hard as he could. The Gacheela’s squawking collapsed into a liquid gargle as the machete bit into its neck. Warm blood splattered down on Dakkar’s face, forcing him to screw his eyes shut. Suddenly he felt weightless and the air rushed through his hair and ears. Opening his eyes, Dakkar could see the beast’s severed head, still gripping on to the fabric of his trousers. The body was spinning off in another direction.
Dakkar caught a brief glimpse of Gog’s distant face, pale and wide eyed, and then the trees engulfed him.
Chapter Seventeen
The River
Branches slashed at Dakkar’s hands and arms, then whacked into his back as he fell further into the jungle. He yelled out as thorns tore at his skin and clothes. A flock of tiny lizards nesting on a branch scattered in all directions, skittering over his chest and head as he crashed through them.
Then he stopped, bouncing like a puppet on a tangle of vines, being thrown gently back up into the air and eased back down again. He looked down at the floor of the jungle a few inches away and blew out a long breath.
Dakkar clambered down from the vines and groaned. His body ached and his skin stung from a criss-cross of cuts and scratches. Looking around, he found himself a few feet away from the base of the cliff. He shuddered. If the Gacheela had taken another direction, he might have been dashed against the rocks.
Gog’s face appeared through the bushes. He gave a broad grin when he saw Dakkar and strode over to him.
‘Dakkar . . .’ Gog began, and tapped the side of his head.
‘Mad?’ Dakkar grinned back.
Gog laughed and gave Dakkar a playful push, sending him sprawling to the ground.
‘I assure you, I didn’t do any of that on purpose,’ Dakkar said, struggling to his feet and rolling his eyes.
Mary appeared, accompanied by one of the women of the tribe. ‘Are you all right?’ Mary said, putting a hand to her mouth.
‘I think so,’ said Dakkar, stretching and wincing at the same time. ‘No bones broken.’
‘You were lucky,’ said Mary, her eyes widening. ‘I ’ad you down as a goner, for sure.’
‘You still want to come along?’ Dakkar said, raising his eyebrows.
Mary nodded.
‘Then let’s get moving,’ he said, striding after Gog, who had set off back to the steps.
They accomplished the task of getting the Liberty down the cliff without further incident. Gog’s tribe had woven a net of vines and poked long poles through the netting. It amazed Dakkar that, giants though they were, these huge men could carry the submersible between them.
The jungle closed in on them and Dakkar felt a sense of unease creeping up on him. The shadows seemed darker and he would flinch at every snuffle or grunt from the undergrowth. He gripped his loaded rifle tightly.
Behind him, Mary trudged along with her gun slung over her shoulder. She was quiet but seemed more at ease as they walked. I suppose she’s been down here often, Dakkar thought. She must be used to it.
Sometimes the vegetation grew dense and Dakkar offered to hack through it with his machete. Gog nodded in solemn approval. Other parts of the route took in well-beaten paths – main thoroughfares for all manner of creatures, judging by the tracks.
After hours of marching and struggling through the jungle, they came to a clearing on the side of a wide river.
‘It must be deep,’ Dakkar said, looking across the smooth water. ‘It hardly seems to be flowing.’
Weeds and lily pads covered the surface here. Huge dragonflies, some the size of Dakkar, buzzed lazily across the water.
Gog led the way to the riverbank and wrinkled his nose at the water. Dakkar craned his neck to see what Gog wa
s looking for.
‘Nakra!’ Gog said, extending his arms straight and smacking them together in a childish impression of a crocodile. Dakkar got the message.
‘There are crocodiles in here?’ he said, copying Gog’s sign. ‘Lots?’
‘One,’ Gog said. He stretched his arms wide. ‘Big. His river.’
‘Great,’ Dakkar muttered. ‘Let’s hope we don’t meet Nakra.’
‘Dari!’ Gog said to the men carrying the Liberty, and pointed to the water.
The giants waded into the river still carrying the submersible. Soon she bobbed in the water, not far from the bank.
‘We’d better test the Liberty before we go any distance in her,’ Dakkar said. He leapt from the bank on to the deck and pulled open the hatch. The Liberty suddenly seemed alive, rolling a little as as if to welcome him aboard as he climbed inside. It still smelt stale and dusty in the lower cabin. He climbed into the upper cabin and sat in the captain’s seat. He turned a dial in the centre of the steering wheel and the Voltalith began to whine. A dull thud shook the boat and Dakkar heaved a sigh as Mary’s voice rang up from the lower cabin.
‘Should I shut this hatch at the front?’ she shouted.
‘Yes,’ Dakkar called back, and slid the drive lever to Full Ahead. The engine hummed more loudly and he smiled as the Liberty began to push through the thick weeds that clogged the surface.
Mary appeared behind him. ‘Are you goin’ underwater?’ she said, a slight smile on her lips.
‘I might,’ Dakkar said, turning to look out of the front portholes.
The river stretched ahead of them, wide but overhung with trees and creepers. Here and there, a fish would suddenly leap, breaking the surface and snatching an insect from the air.
‘I’ve never been this far out,’ Mary said, pressing her nose against the glass. ‘I always stayed near the shaft.’
‘I don’t blame you,’ Dakkar muttered.
They were out in the centre of the river now. Looking to his left, Dakkar could see Gog and a couple of his men staring at them. He grinned and turned the ballast wheel. Immediately water gushed into the cavity in the hull of the craft and she began to sink. Mary gave a shriek as bubbles gushed around the portholes and they were plunged into a shadowy, green world.
