by Greg Dragon
Slam!
I crash into Cole, who’s just on the other side. His reflexes are quick and he manages to half catch me in his big arms, dragging me to the ground with him as I bowl him over.
Cole is on his feet in a second, his face darkening even more than it already is. “Of all the stupid, childish things to do!” he roars, looming over me.
Of course, being me, I’m shocked by the reaction and just stare at him.
I look around slowly and see that Tawni is hugging Elsey, who is crying, tears rolling over her lips. Then it dawns on me. They thought I was dead. I jumped through a mysterious waterfall, let out a scream, and then they didn’t hear anything from me. I hadn’t even thought to—or bothered to—yell back to them that I was okay.
“I was going to fall,” I say dumbly.
“Tawni was about to help me pull you back when you jumped.”
“Oh.”
“You scared your sister half to death. All of us, Adele.”
“Sorry,” I say weakly.
“Not good enough,” Cole says.
“Really sorry?” I say it like a question, which also is not good enough. “Look,” I continue quickly, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking. It was really, really stupid. Please forgive me. El?”
Elsey pulls herself away from Tawni and runs to me, throwing her arms around me and holding me so tightly I can barely breathe. By the time she releases me she’s almost as wet as I am. “Of course I forgive you,” she says. “I thought you were gone.”
“I’ll never leave you,” I say.
“You will if you keep doing stupid things like that,” Cole grumbles.
His forgiveness will take longer to earn.
Tawni comes over and puts an arm around me. “Try to be more careful. We’re like family now.”
A wave of emotion wells up unexpectedly. I get choked up, literally trying to swallow her words down as they seem to get stuck a dozen times in my throat. I’m teary-eyed, but not to the point of overflowing. It’s been so long since I’ve had any real friends and now I’ve grown closer to these two in just a couple of days. Wild, thrilling, scary, emotional days, yeah, but still only days.
I realize I love them both. Tawni for her good heart, logical mind, and overflowing compassion for others. Cole for his quiet strength, fierce loyalty, and righteous anger—I don’t even mind his temper.
I wave Cole over, and after a few seconds’ pause, he joins us in a group hug. I’ve never felt more loved in my life.
It only lasts about a minute—a glorious, beautiful minute—before Cole gets embarrassed. He releases us and says, “Uh, what was behind the water anyway?”
“A landing and then another waterfall,” I say.
“This has the makings of a comedy sketch,” he says, managing a slight grin. His face has returned to its normal dark color.
Note to self: group hugs diffuse tempers, I think.
I grin back. “Why don’t you and I go check it out?” When Cole gives me an I-don’t-think-so look, I quickly add, “No more insane leaps of faith, I promise. I just have a good feeling about where this might lead.” And I do. Something about it just feels right. Or at least more right than going back. Plus this tunnel will be safe for us. No one who actually knows their way around the Lonely Caverns would ever think to go down this particular tunnel.
“Fine,” Cole says grudgingly. “How far is the jump?”
“Maybe five feet,” I say.
Cole nods. “Ladies first. When you get across, move back and I’ll jump five seconds after you.”
Elsey looks worried so I give her an extra hug. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be back in just a couple of minutes.”
“I’ll never forget you,” she says dramatically.
“Yeah, you, too, El.”
I grab two of the waterproof flashlights that we stole from Tawni’s parents, hand one to Cole, and then easily leap through the waterfall onto the landing. I flick on the flashlight and move back. A few seconds later Cole splashes through the liquid wall.
The light doesn’t reveal anything unexpected. We’re in a tiny section of nondescript cave that, except for the waterfalls at either end, could have been anywhere in the caverns.
“How are we going to test the next waterfall?” Cole says.
“Simple—we jump through,” I say.
“You said you’d be careful. That doesn’t sound careful.”
“I am going to be careful,” I say, smirking. “You’re going to try it first this time.”
Cole’s reaction confirms that he bought it. His eyes narrow, he looks at the ceiling, and he throws his hands over his head. It’s good to know he’s gullible sometimes. “I’m just kidding, Cole. Temper, temper.”
His face softens and he even manages a smile. “Good one,” he admits. “So what’s the real plan?”
“Chuck a rock and listen for the sound.” Maybe it isn’t a much better plan, but it’s still better.
Cole shrugs and pokes around along the side of the tunnel with his flashlight until he finds a decent-sized rock. “Should make plenty of noise,” he comments.
“Do it.”
Hefting it over his shoulder like a miner, he gets a running start and launches it into the waterfall. We both put our ears close to the streaming water, and are rewarded a second later when we hear the rock crack against something hard. The sound comes so quickly that it’s unlikely the rock fell very far.
“It might’ve hit a sheer wall and dropped straight down,” Cole points out.
“It sounded like it bounced.”
Cole nods. “Ladies first,” he says.
“Wuss.”
Cole suddenly scoops me up and makes like he’s going to throw me through the fall. Yeah—I scream. “No, no, no!”
He puts me down. “You looked really scared,” he says.
“Good one.”
Turning back to the waterfall, I get a running start and plow through it, leading with the waterproof flashlight. I emerge on the other side amidst a spray of water. Surprise, surprise. It’s another mini-tunnel, with yet another waterfall at the end.
“C’mon through!” I yell.
Cole arrives and laughs when he sees the wall of water cascading down from the roof. “How much you wanna bet when we try to go back there’s always another waterfall?” he says.
The thought of being stuck in an endless cycle of waterfalls and sections of cave, coupled with the fact that I’m soaked to the skin, makes me shiver. “No bet, but I hope you’re wrong.”
The rock Cole threw is lying in front of us, slightly chipped but large enough to be effective again. The stone is heavy, but I manage to heft it with both hands, swinging it from side to side once and releasing it through the waterfall. A second later we hear the same telltale clatter.
“Same time?” Cole says, extending his hand.
Corny? Absolutely. But I’ve always wanted to do something like that, so I nod and grab his hand. We mouth a count to three and then jump through simultaneously. This time we’re in for a surprise.
First of all, we don’t need our flashlights anymore. Dull light slides into the tunnel beyond us. There’s another waterfall, but not like before. It isn’t a wall of water blocking our path. Instead, the tunnel ends in a small pool of water, which is fed from underground rivers pouring in on either bank. The pool overflows at the far side, dropping off into the cave where the light is coming from.
I glance at Cole and then we walk forward, perfectly synchronized. Without talking about it, we wade straight into the water. It rises above my waist to my belly button, whereas for Cole it only gets to his hips.
We reach the end of the pool, where the water tumbles over the edge. My heart stops and I gasp. Spectacular! is the word that comes to mind when I see the view. We’re on the edge of a cliff, looking out upon a Moon Dweller city. Like most man-made Moon Dweller cities, thick stone beams rise high above the buildings, from floor to roof, protecting against major cave-ins.
&nb
sp; Around the edge of the cliff, numerous waterfalls pour out into a massive reservoir that runs along the edge of the cavern. Each waterfall is different, but equally magnificent. Some are thin, high streams, skimming the edge of the cliff and cascading down in an unpredictable liquid spray, while others are thick, powerful falls, exploding in a thunderous display of power and beauty. And there is everything in between, too.
Our particular waterfall is of average height compared to the others, but still rises at least fifty feet in the air. By peering over the edge we can see that we’re on a rock overhang, which allows the water to pour into the reservoir unobstructed. Although I’m not really afraid of heights, I pull back from the edge, feeling slightly lightheaded.
“Damn,” Cole says. “The good news: we’ve made it to the sixteenth subchapter, also known as Waterfall Cave. The bad news: there’s no way down.”
“Except to jump,” I say.
“If you’re crazy.”
I’m not any keener to launch myself down a waterfall than Cole is, but it does make sense, in a twisted logic sort of way. “We’ve got to get into the sixteenth subchapter, right?” Cole nods, biting back a response. “So, if we find another tunnel that leads there, an easier one, it will likely end at a travel checkpoint and we’ll have to show our papers. We don’t have any papers, Cole. Plus, our faces are all over the news. We’ll be recognized and apprehended immediately. Our only choice is to do something crazy.”
Cole looks over the edge again, biting on his lip as he considers my proposal.
The dull light is coming from the city’s overhead cavern lights. The brightness is about normal for daytime in the Moon Realm, so it might be anytime between ten in the morning and four in the afternoon. “We’ll wait until it starts to get dark so we won’t be seen. It’s a reservoir, I’m sure it’s deep enough.”
At that moment Tawni and Elsey splash into the tunnel, panic written all over their faces.
Chapter Eighteen
Tristan
We awake to a piercing shriek that echoes through the caves. I have no idea where I am or how I got here. It’s becoming a bit of a bad habit for me.
“What…was…that?” Roc says from beside me.
“I don’t know, but I’m not sticking around to find out,” I say. I try to sit up but find it’s impossible. My arms are tied to my sides, my feet together. It feels like I’m in a straitjacket.
“Oh God,” Roc says. “What now?”
We hear another piercing scream and then high-pitched frantic cackling. The cackling continues for a bit, sometimes rising in volume and other times lessening. It makes it hard to tell where and how far away it’s coming from.
“What do we do?” Roc says.
“Wait,” I say. We don’t have much of a choice. We’re lying in the dark, bound as tight as a caterpillar in a cocoon, with no idea where we are. Waiting seems like the only option. “Do you remember what happened?” I ask.
“All I remember is the ground dropping away and then sliding a bit. Then everything went black.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” This is not good. We’ve successfully managed to escape one captor, only to find ourselves at the mercy of another. One that might be much less likely to give us food and water.
“Let us go!” Roc screams suddenly, scaring the bejesus out of me.
“Bloody hell, Roc. What was that?”
“Sorry. I’ve been awake for a while, trying to get you to wake up, too. I guess I’m going a little stir crazy.”
“Ya think?”
“Are my delectable delights ready for tasting?” a shaky woman’s voice calls from somewhere. More cackling.
Now I know we’re in real trouble. Whoever this lady is, she’s madder than a wingless bat. “Roll,” I hiss, turning over and forcing my body to move toward Roc’s voice. I bang into him before he has a chance to get going. He finally gets the hint. Two revolutions, three. Four, five, six. As I come out of my sixth spin, I’m blinded by a light shining directly in my eyes.
“Hee hee hee! Are my scrumptious scamperers scampering again?” the woman’s voice says from right next to me.
When she shifts the light into Roc’s eyes I get a glimpse of her face. I cringe. Her head is mostly bald, with only a few wisps of gray hair protruding from her scalp. She has no eyebrows and a bit of dark stubble on her chin. Her nose is long, overhanging and casting a shadow on her thin white lips. Her blue eyes might be pretty were they not on her face and filled with madness.
“My palettable pretties are awake!” she exclaims, showing off a mouth with only a handful of teeth, perhaps seven or eight total. Her red tongue looks abnormally long, like a serpent’s, glossing over her teeth and lips.
Ignoring us once again, the woman busies herself with something that we can’t see.
“We shouldn’t even be here,” Roc says, a bit of anger entering his voice. It’s unexpected. I’d expect him to sound scared, or at least worried, but no, he sounds angry.
“If you have something to say, Roc, just say it,” I say. Now isn’t the time to pick a fight, but I want to know what’s on Roc’s mind.
“We’re chasing after a girl you’ve never even said two words to,” he spits out.
“Wrong, Roc. I’ve said exactly two words to her,” I snap back, my temperature level rising.
“I don’t think saying Adele! and Run! counts as having spoken to her,” Roc says bitterly, imitating my voice, but making it sound nasally and girly.
“I didn’t make you come!” I growl.
He doesn’t have a response to that, so we both lie in silence, which is worse than arguing, because the old woman is talking to herself. In between speaking to us, she’s saying things like, “A finger for breakfast, a hand for lunch, an ear for dinner, munch, munch, munch!”
That’s when I realize what she’s doing: preparing a fire. And above it is a spit, constructed with a pile of rocks on both ends and a metal bar across them. It’s about the length of a human, I realize.
Roc and I figure it out at the same time. “She’s going to freakin’ eat us, Tristan!” Roc hisses, temporarily forgetting his beef with me.
We can see the flames from the fire casting shadows on the cave walls, and smell the smoke as it blusters off the growing fire.
Suddenly, anger courses through my veins, pumping fresh blood to my extremities. We’ve worked so hard to get this far, taken so many risks, and this woman is going to end our journey before, as Roc pointed out, I’ve had the chance to say more than two words to Adele?
Screw. That.
Pure determination floods my body for the first time in my pampered life. It’s out of my control, my actions those of my body, not my mind.
I spin hard, rolling right at the woman, whose back is still to us. I collide hard with her ankles, tripping her backwards over me. I keep rolling…right into the fire. Like I said: it’s my body doing the thinking, not my mind. It isn’t a great plan, but it’s all I have.
I feel the heat from the flames licking at my torso, trying to penetrate the thick nest of ropes around me, tear through my clothes, scorch my skin. The fire is a cannibal, too. Luckily, the fire is still small enough that my head and legs are outside of its range, although the smoke is choking me. I hold my breath and wait two seconds, three.
When the heat becomes unbearable and I’m sure the ropes must be on fire, I spin backwards and out of the fire. The old woman has staggered to her feet and I collide with her again, once more knocking her over. This time she falls in a heap on top of me, her face coming to rest right in front of my own. Her breath stinks and I can feel her bony knees and elbows poking into my ribs and legs.
“You filthy brat!” she screams, nearly bursting my eardrums and sending a splattering of spit into my eyes.
I can still feel the heat of the flames as they bite at my ropes. I hope the tethers are sufficiently weakened by the fire. They have to be.
I head-butt the woman right between the eyes, causing her to let loose a shrie
k that should only belong to dark demons from the realm from which nightmares are born. She flops to the side and away from me.
Using every last ounce of strength I can muster, I strain at the bindings, trying to break them. Evidently I lingered in the fire longer than I thought—longer than I probably should have. The ropes break away easily, black and brittle from the flames, which are finally dying.
Scrambling to my feet, I pull away the remaining strands and search for my sword. The old woman is writhing on the cave floor, shrieking and shouting obscenities, clutching at her face. I find the swords crossed on the ground near Roc, next to our pack.
It’s as if I’ve never used my hands before—I’m unable to control them. They’re trembling badly and it takes me more than a minute just to get a grip on my sword. Under normal conditions, cutting the ropes away from Roc would be a simple task, but I feel so shaky I’m afraid I might accidentally amputate an arm or leg.
“Deep breaths,” Roc says, making me realize that I’m breathing in short, ragged huffs. I’m sure my face is wild, probably more crazy-looking than the old woman trying to cook us alive.
I take a deep breath. Then another. It helps. My hands stop shaking, my breathing returns to normal. “Thanks,” I say.
After cutting Roc’s hands free, I hand him the sword, letting him finish the job. The woman has grown surprisingly silent, lying motionless in a heap. When Roc is free, he hands me my sword, which I sheath, retrieves his own sword, and then shoulders the pack.
We’re about to leave when the woman suddenly screams, leaps to her feet with speed and quickness that’s almost supernatural, and charges us, her hands outstretched and curled into clawed hooks.
I scream, and Roc screams even louder. I’m getting pretty sick of the old woman’s antics, and am too tired to consider that she might still be dangerous, which is probably a good thing.
I push her. Hard. Right at the fire. She stumbles and falls into the flames, wailing the whole time. We don’t wait to see what will happen to her.
