Tom's Inheritance

by T J Green

  The Emperor turned to them. “We have had much rain lately so the river should be deep enough to take us all the way to the portal. In places the current is swift and strong, so don’t fall in.”

  “How far does the river go?” asked Tom.

  “Oh, miles and miles – far beyond our destination. But it becomes narrower, and then you have to climb. There are many waterfalls, and places where the water completely fills the caverns. The traveller must take great care to avoid those. And the river often branches in two. It is easy to become lost. People have entered here and never been seen again.” He paused, then added, “You’re lucky the portal didn’t bring you here when you arrived.” His words hung in the air and seemed to echo in the enclosed space.

  Tom felt a cold shudder run down his spine as he realised they could have emerged anywhere. “Could we have ended up in the sea?”

  “Oh yes, the portals can be quite hazardous.”

  Understatement of the year. Tom turned to Woodsmoke and Brenna. “Could we come out somewhere really bad in your realm?”

  Brenna nodded. “Yes, but we know our world well, so hopefully we will be fine. We may still have further to travel than we would want, though.”

  Woodsmoke added a word of warning. “This place is not for the unprepared traveller, Tom. Like your own world, ours has areas that are hostile to outsiders.”

  “Blimey,” said Beansprout, “I wish I’d known that before I stuck my hand in.”

  “This reminds me of the Greek ships I’ve seen in history books,” said Tom.

  “Ah, how clever of you Tom! It is in fact a version of the trireme, one of the ships we introduced to the Greeks. We were very influential in the Mediterranean many years ago. We are a seafaring people–”

  “Really?” interrupted Tom, disbelief in his voice. “You helped the Greeks?”

  “Oh, only slightly,” the Emperor answered, modestly. “Not me personally – I was far too young. Unfortunately we are also responsible for the presence of the giant squid and sea serpents in your seas. An accidental crossing from our world.”

  Tom now had so many questions whizzing around his head, he didn’t know which to ask first. “Sea serpents? But they’re a myth. And how old are you? That was over two thousand years ago!”

  The Emperor looked at the floor and scratched his chin. “Well, I am older than I look. We are a race that lives for many years. Woodsmoke and Brenna are much older than you imagine.”

  Beansprout, who had been following the conversation with some interest, butted in. “So how old are you two?”

  Woodsmoke laughed. “I am four hundred and twenty-three years old – quite young, really. What about you, Brenna?”

  “Oh, three hundred and seventy, or thereabouts,” she said with a wry smile.

  “If you’re interested in sea creatures, Tom,” the Emperor said, “we may see one later. Or perhaps you’re not that interested,” he added, noting Tom’s expression.

  “Where might we see one?” Tom asked nervously.

  “We are going to the Cavern of the Four Portals – although there are of course only three now. It’s a huge cave, and the river there forms a deep lake connected by a passageway to the sea. One of our greatest explorers found it. Unfortunately, on occasions a giant dectopus swims up the passageway and takes up residence in the lake. If it’s there, we must try not to disturb it.” He looked at their worried faces and added, “I’m sure we won’t.”

  “What’s a dectopus?” Tom asked.

  “It is a ten-tentacled sea creature. Haven’t you heard of them?”

  “I’ve only heard of an octopus.”

  “Well, there you are then. Much the same, just a bit bigger.”

  For a while they fell silent, listening to the sound of the hippocamps splashing in the inky black river. At least, Tom hoped it was the hippocamps.

  A while later the river started to curl to the left and the passageway became bigger. The walls were slick with moisture, the torchlight slipping off the walls and up to the roof or down to the water, where it was swallowed by the unrelenting blackness.

  “Water is leaking through the rock,” the Emperor said. “This section of the tunnel is quite porous.” Stalactites hung from the roof, and streaks of pink and yellow glimmered like underground rainbows.

  It seemed as if they had been in the tunnel for hours, and Tom became more and more aware of the huge amount of rock over their heads as they moved still further underground. Tributaries opened up on either side, and water poured down from the suffocating blackness. Tom peered up the tunnels, seeing nothing, but hearing strange gurgles and splashes. Every now and again the Emperor would impart some bit of knowledge about the warren of tunnels and mysterious whirlpools they were passing, but their worried faces eventually drove him to silence.

  Just as Tom was beginning to think the journey would never end, the passage opened up, and the light from the ship was swallowed up by the bigger space. The Emperor touched the wick from his lantern to the wall, and a band of bright orange flame raced along the rock face. He did the same on the other side of the passage, and the cavern became brighter as the flames spread in a circle beneath a domed roof. Craning his neck, Tom saw huge, elaborate carvings on the walls towering above him, depicting fights between enormous sea creatures. They seemed to move in the flickering light.

  They headed to a pier jutting out into the far side of the lake, beyond which was a broad stone floor on which boxes and ropes were coiled. Behind the boxes, steps led to a dark shadowy recess like the one through which Tom and Beansprout had passed. They had reached the portals.

  He turned to the Emperor. “What are all the boxes for?”

  “This is where we built the ship. And we store other things here, for journeying further inland.” He nodded to the rear of the cavern where the river exited into another tunnel.

  As they passed the centre of the pool, bubbles appeared on the surface. The hippocamps became nervous, snorting wildly and straining towards the shore. Seeing the commotion, the men raised their short sharp tridents, and stood peering into the water.

  “Is it the dectopus?” said Beansprout.

  No one answered. Woodsmoke raised his longbow, keeping his eyes on the water, and Brenna pulled her sword free from its scabbard.

  The Emperor touched Tom and Beansprout gently on the arm, pulling them back from the side of the ship. “Stay in the middle.”

  The hippocamps pulled furiously towards the shore. Then, in front of them, a sleek and scaly tentacle uncoiled on the surface before plunging into the depths again. For a few seconds the water fell still, then several more tentacles appeared, followed by the enormous bulbous body of the dectopus. It reared into the air, water streaming over it. Its skin was wrinkled and thick like elephant’s, and two enormous eyes blinked slowly. It flicked several tentacles towards them, and Tom saw its suckers raised and ready to grasp the ship.

  Beansprout screamed; Woodsmoke released several arrows at its head. Some found their target, but most bounced off into the water. Before Woodsmoke could fire again, the dectopus plunged back beneath the surface, making the boat rock wildly.

  “He wasn’t kidding when he said giant dectopus!” Tom exclaimed.

  The hippocamps raced forward, but the dectopus rose again, this time on the starboard side of the ship. Shadows from the flames writhed across its mottled deep-purple skin. Another volley of arrows left Woodsmoke’s bow, but again the dectopus's tentacles whipped across the surface of the pool. One grabbed a hippocamp, lifting it as if it were a toy, ripping it free of its harness and dropping it into its gaping mouth. Other tentacles latched onto the ship, causing it to lurch wildly. Everyone grabbed for something fixed; Tom slid across the deck and hit the side, hurting his elbow. Brenna rolled and quickly regained her feet, slashing at the closest tentacle. The dectopus roared in pain, the noise echoing around the cave, but the ship tipped further. Woodsmoke and the Emperor joined Brenna, and the three slashed at the tentacles as the
men released a volley of tridents. With another roar the tentacles finally released the ship, which shot upright, waves rolling across the deck.

  The remaining hippocamps had broken free and were racing away with deafening shrieks that echoed around the cave. Then they disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

  “Start rowing!” the Emperor yelled. They were within reach of the pier when the dectopus rose again, directly ahead. It towered above them, and this time its tentacles grabbed both sides of the boat, pulling it towards its open mouth. A tentacle whipped across their heads, its huge suckers flexing like white mouths. It grabbed one of the Emperor’s men. With a scream he was dropped into its waiting mouth.

  “Abandon ship!” commanded the Emperor, as they were dragged ever closer to the dectopus's waiting mouth.

  Tom grabbed Beansprout and pushed her forward. “Go!” he shouted. “I’ll follow.”

  Beansprout leapt into the mass of frothing churning water. Tom followed, gasping as he hit the icy lake. It was so cold it felt like a fist was squeezing his lungs. The water blinded and deafened him, and he flailed around, desperately trying to reach the surface, his clothes heavy and billowing around him. His head emerged and he gasped for air.

  He was surrounded by seething water and thrashing tentacles. Did it only have ten tentacles? It seemed like so many more. He heard an enormous splintering crash, and watched as a chunk of the boat was ripped off and sent flying overhead.

  As he started swimming for the shore, a hippocamp appeared beneath him and he grasped its webbed mane. It raced through the water, tipping him off in the shallows. Once clear of the water he turned, then quickly ducked and rolled as a tentacle whipped towards him. It slapped the ground, it suckers slurping.

  He saw Beansprout lying exhausted nearby and dragged himself to her side. “Run!” he yelled, grabbing her arm. Together they raced for the back of the cave, their wet clothes flapping around them.

  Woodsmoke and Brenna had also managed to jump free of the boat and were pulled swiftly to shore by the hippocamps. The water was still a churning mass of men and tentacles. Some made it to the shore, while others disappeared beneath the surface.

  Woodsmoke took up position at the shattered end of the pier, firing a blur of arrows. Brenna began helping the men who’d made it out of the water gather a pile of silvery-looking ropes. At the bow of his shattered ship, the Emperor looked towards the shore before diving into the water.

  The dectopus pursued those still in the lake. Although the men were fast, some weren’t fast enough. Those who made it to the shore climbed up to where several large pieces of machinery hung high on the rock walls. Thick silvery ropes ran from these to a giant web suspended over the pool.

  The Emperor emerged in the middle of the churning lake before dipping out of sight again. The dectopus darted towards him. For several seconds nothing happened, and the water became smooth and still. Just as Tom began to worry that the Emperor had drowned, he surfaced right under the web and shouted, “Now!”

  The dectopus rose above the surface as the Emperor disappeared, and before it could follow him, the giant web dropped, along with several hundredweight of stone it had supported. An enormous boom rang out as the weight crashed down onto the creature, which sank below the surface. A large wave rose and raced to the shore and with it came the Emperor, who landed on the rocky edge.

  “Quickly,” he shouted. “Secure him with the ropes!” His remaining men dived back into the water, dragging the ropes behind them. This time they were submerged for a long time.

  “How can they stay under water for so long?” asked Beansprout.

  Woodsmoke answered, joining them from the pier. “They’re water spirits. That’s why their skin is silvery looking, almost as if they are half fish. They can swim under water for hours. They just don’t live in it.”

  “And what was the web thing under the roof?”

  “Giant water spiders make very strong webs!”

  Beansprout looked a little sick. “I hope we don’t meet one of those too.”

  6 In the Greenwood

  While the Emperor and his men finished their tasks under water, Woodsmoke lit a fire from the woodpile he found in a dry corner and they warmed themselves by the bright flames. They were still shocked by their violent encounter.

  “That was too close for comfort,” Woodsmoke said.

  “Too close for some of the men,” Brenna said sadly.

  “And the hippocamp,” Beansprout added.

  “I take it you’ve seen the portals?” Woodsmoke gestured to the shadowy recess above them.

  Tom nodded. “I suppose we’ll leave when the Emperor gets back?”

  “Yes. We’re lucky he was feeling generous. We would never have found this place without him.”

  “Who built the portals?”

  “They were built thousands of years ago, by the powerful magic of the ancient gods.”

  “Oh.” That wasn’t the answer Tom had expected. “What gods?”

  “That tale’s for another time, Tom,” Woodsmoke said.

  “And will you take us to our grandfather? Please, Woodsmoke. We’re so close.”

  “I suppose so. And anyway, I don’t know of any other portal to take you to your world, apart from the one we used. We don’t have a choice.”

  Beansprout gave Woodsmoke a beaming smile.

  The Emperor and his men finally emerged from the deep cold waters and shook the water off their skin like otters.

  “All done,” said the Emperor with a faint smile. “We have wrapped it up so tightly it will take weeks to break free, if it ever does. And now I’m starved. Fish, anyone?”

  His men brought a dozen large rainbow-scaled fish from the half-ruined boat, lit a second fire and spread the fish on flat grills to cook. Water and wine were handed out, and they sat talking while the smell of cooking fish filled the air.

  “I’m sorry you’ve lost men,” said Woodsmoke. “I feel it’s our fault. It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t brought us here. We owe you a huge debt.”

  “Not at all. It’s happened before and will no doubt happen again. We risk these encounters all the time when we travel, and although it’s sad to lose men, we accept it. I’m tempted to pass through the portal with you, but the realm remains unsettled and I still have much to do here. Another time.”

  He paused to rummage in his pockets, and pulled out a curious spiral shell inlaid with silver and jade. Muttering a few words, he passed his hand across it.

  “A present,” he said, “to remember your time in the Eye. Any time you need help and there’s water nearby, just throw it in. I won’t tell you what will happen. It will be a surprise. Which of you would like to look after it?”

  “Thank you. Tom should,” Beansprout said immediately.

  “Thanks,” said Tom, hoping he wouldn’t lose it as he slipped it into his pocket.

  After eating, they gathered their things and walked up the stone steps to the portals high above the lake. Carvings of beasts marched beside the path, as if accompanying them.

  They stood before the three doorways. At the far end was a mass of rubble where once a fourth had stood. Tom wouldn’t have thought it possible to destroy these doorways; they looked as if they would stand forever.

  The portal to the Realm of Earth was in the middle, surrounded by carvings of trees, mountains, and strange hoof-footed half-men. Directly over the arch were carvings of a woman with a serene face, and a man with enormous antlers rising from his head.

  “Time to go,” said Woodsmoke. Holding hands, they stepped through the archway and passed out of the Realm of Water.

  With a rush and a swooping, falling motion, Tom felt the blackness slide by and heard fluttering, just for a moment, until they landed with a thump. This time he felt soft earth, a loamy richness beneath his hands.

  It was quiet, the eerie silence before dawn, with the barest suggestion of light. There was a faint pulsing of wind, as if something was breathing, and
the air was crisp and sharp, carrying the smell of snow and pine.

  They waited in silence for the light to grow, and as it did, birds started to sing. Before long the air was thick with birdsong, long looping notes smothering the silence. The sunrise revealed a pine forest, the trunks pressed close, the branches knotted together just above their heads. A thick mist silvered the ground.

  “We’re on the mountain,” Brenna murmured, “on the lower slopes. Can you smell the snow?”

  Woodsmoke nodded. “Come.”

  The ground sloped away in front of them, and despite the rising sun, the light remained dim. The birds fell silent. Beneath their feet, the thick carpet of pine needles swallowed their footsteps. Mist swirled around their legs in whispery tendrils, rising almost unnoticed, until the others had disappeared from Tom’s view. Distracted by his new surroundings, he wandered down a tunnel that hollowed out in the mist before him. Passing through it, he found himself in a clearing. The sweet pungent scent of honeysuckle perfumed the air.

  There was no sign of the others. A woman sat cross-legged in the centre of the clearing. She was beautiful, with long white hair framing her pale face. She seemed both very young and very old. Her eyes were pale green, and she wore a long grey dress trimmed with fur. With a shock, Tom realised she was the woman he had seen in his dreams.

  She gazed at him, and without seeming to speak, said, “Tom, at last you have arrived. Come and sit so we can talk.”

  Trapped within the circle of mist, he warily moved closer.

  She smiled. “So, Tom, I have called you here because there is something you must do.”

  “I think you’re confusing me with someone else,” he said crossly. “I came here to find my grandfather and take him home. Who are you? How do you know my name, and how did you get into my dreams?”

  “But Tom,” she said, ignoring his questions. “What if he doesn’t want to return home?”

  “Of course he will, why wouldn’t he?” Tom felt a slight panic as he answered; a sense of unease as other possibilities suggested themselves.