by Bryan Davis
Ashley read her photometer. “The doorway deteriorated a little bit. At this rate, it will be gone in about three and a half hours. Yereq should guard it to make sure nothing comes out from the other side. You won’t like what resides over there.”
“Flat shadow critters.” Walter twisted his shoe on the ground. “Yereq can probably stomp them like cockroaches.”
Drawing his sword, Billy led the way through the portal. When he stepped back into the cave, it was darker and colder than before, but no shadow people slithered about, likely frightened by the portal’s glow and the sight of their fellows’ bones.
When the others joined him, Walter again fastened everyone together with the rope, Billy in front, then Ashley, Walter, Dorian, and Elam. Billy strode ahead, quickly at first, but when the portal’s light faded, he slowed, listening for movement and tuning his danger radar. Since the shadow people had been alerted to their presence, they might have amassed at the cave’s entrance. An ambush seemed likely.
Soon, the exit arch came into sight, barely visible now that the portal was well behind them. The tingling sensation crawled along Billy’s body, and his alarm sounded. They were close, very close.
He halted. Ashley bumped into him, but only lightly. She tugged on his shirt and breathed a ghost of a whisper in his ear. “I sense a presence.”
Billy pointed at himself, trying to signal, “So do I.”
From her belt clip, she pulled a flashlight, modified for use with her homemade batteries. “It’s real close.” She shone the light at the base of the wall. A dark form turned its ribbonlike body away from the light and shivered as it emitted a series of high-pitched clicks.
“That’s strange,” Billy whispered. “It stayed here alone.”
Ashley stooped. “It’s scared, but it wants to communicate.” She flicked off the light. “What do you want to say?”
The portal at the back of the cave painted a dim glow on Ashley’s profile. As more clicks sounded, she nodded several times. “This one seems quite intelligent,” she explained. “I sense mostly feelings. That noise it’s making doesn’t mean anything to me, but I’m getting a few words from its mind.”
Billy glanced back and forth between the shadow person and the cave exit. His danger alarm heightened. Could this one be a decoy, told to get their attention while the others massed for an attack?
Ashley looked up at Elam. “I think he knows you. He said something about being sorry for not building the fire.”
“The fire,” Elam repeated in a whisper. “Where could that have been?”
She half closed one eye. “Does ‘skotos’ mean anything to you?”
“It’s a forest in the Bridgelands.” Elam crouched beside Ashley. “Does he have a name?”
Ashley turned back to the shadow. “What is your name?”
A short burst of clicks rose from its dark face.
Ashley shook her head. “He’s saying it with his language, but I can’t pull it from his mind.”
“Zane?” Elam asked. “Is your name Zane?”
Chapter 3
The Faceless Protectors
The clicking noise pulsed rapidly, sounding like an excited cricket.
“Slow your thoughts,” Ashley said. “Your mind knows English. Just concentrate on each word and say it inside as forcefully as you can.”
After a few seconds, she began nodding again. “Okay. I see. That’s good to know.” She rose to her feet with a sigh. “Apparently he was banished here when he lost his courage during the battle against the giants, and now he wants to make up for his faithlessness by giving us a warning. There are a few dozen of his people immediately outside the cave entrance, but the rest of them, thousands maybe, have gathered on the main path between here and the river. So if we want to survive, we’ll have to go another way.”
Elam slid his hand under Zane’s paper-thin head. “Thank you for the help. Is there anything I can do for you?”
The tiny eyes turned toward Ashley. Once again nodding, she spoke while shifting her gaze between Zane and Elam. “He says he had his chance in life, and he chose the ways of the hypocrite, so it’s too late for him. When the others learn of his treachery, they will tear him apart and end this phase of his suffering, which will be all for the better. Just go in peace and remember that he finally did something right.”
Elam kept his hand in place, apparently struggling in his mind.
“We can’t take him,” Ashley said. “Among us, he would suffer all the more.”
Drawing his hand away, Elam rose to his feet and whispered, “So be it.”
“If they’re gathering at the path we took to get here,” Billy said, “we can use all the light we want to go around them. We won’t run into them.”
“Until we get to the river,” Ashley said. “They’ll see us there.”
Billy untied the rope. “Just stay close.” He took in a quick breath, lit up Excalibur’s beam, and ran. Swiping the laser back and forth across the floor, he flew through the opening. Sizzles again erupted, and the now familiar stench of roasted shadow people permeated the air.
He stopped just outside the arch and mowed the ground with a blast of flames from his mouth. The firelight revealed at least thirty shadowy forms, some writhing in pain, others fleeing along the ground.
Billy waved his arm. “This way!” With his sword lighting the path, he headed straight into the forest, dodging low-hanging branches and leaping over roots. When he broke into the clear and found the beach, he sprinted along the boundary between sand and snow, running parallel to the river. On his left, a sea of black shadows boiled with activity. The escape raft floated on top of hundreds of black fingers.
When his four companions joined him, Ashley now leading with her flashlight, Billy waded into the blackness. “Stay here and get ready to grab the rope.” He blasted a wave of fire on the ground and slashed the beam back and forth. Dark body parts flew in all directions.
“You’re not going without Elam and me!” Walter called.
When Billy reached the raft, he grabbed the rope and tossed it past Walter and Elam as they cut and hacked at the ground. Ashley caught it, and she and Dorian dragged the raft toward the river. “We got it!” Ashley called.
A hand reached out and grabbed Elam’s ankle. He sliced its arm with his sword, but five more hands latched onto his legs. As if running in glue, he lifted his feet in slow motion, constantly swinging his sword behind him.
Billy sprinted up to him from behind and yelled, “Jump!” He swept the beam along the ground. Elam leaped over it just in time. The dark arms snapped like rubber bands, and the sea of bodies underneath melted into a steaming oil slick.
“Run!” Billy and Walter jumped over the black mass, and Elam joined them in stride. Following Ashley’s waving flashlight beam, they ran in leaps. When they arrived at the raft, it had been pushed out to the river’s edge, and Ashley and Dorian were already inside. Dorian sat in the center with the empty bags in her lap.
“Get in!” Ashley shouted. “The parachute’s almost ready.”
While Walter climbed in, Billy doused and sheathed the sword. Now in total darkness, he slid into his corner and checked his guideline. It was good and tight. “Did you get your noisemaker?”
“Check,” Ashley said. “And my musk masker.”
“Launching!” Elam called as he shoved the raft fully into the river. He leaped aboard and settled in place. The current sent them hurtling forward.
“What may I do to help?” Dorian asked.
“We’re the flight attendants,” Walter said. “Just relax and enjoy the flight.”
Elam snapped his fingers. “Silence!”
A hush fell across the raft. Elam seemed tense, in turmoil. Seeing Zane and leaving him behind had shaken him badly, and now it would be only seconds before they would launch over another waterfall where a new danger lay, Adam’s Marsh, the home of Flint, Goliath, and the Nephilim.
Billy slid two metal tubes from one of the bag
s and fastened them end to end. He then put on a pair of fireproof gloves. There would be no time later.
Suddenly, the river fell away again. As before, Elam and Walter caught the air with the front of the parachute, and Billy and Ashley let out their guidelines to allow the canopy to fill. This fall would have been shorter, but their plan was to stay airborne and use the persistent breezes to fly as far away from the pool as possible in case enemy soldiers guarded the valley exit.
A queasy feeling churned in Billy’s stomach. Was it fear? Not likely. He had made it this far without getting sick from fear. It was a deeper sickness, a nausea that seemed familiar somehow, but this was no time to figure it out. It was time to put their plan into action.
After filling his lungs, he lifted the connected tubing, hoisted one end near the apex of the billowing parachute, and pressed the other against his lips. Mixing in the gasses from his belly, he blew with all his might. The flames shot out the opposite end of the tube and struck the middle of the parachute, giving it an upward boost. The tube shielded the fire stream from any onlookers. Of course, a few orange tongues were visible at the exit point, but someone would have to be looking directly at it to notice.
Heaving in breaths and shooting more fire, Billy helped the raft stay aloft. Ashley had slid in behind him to control both rear guidelines. Since they had practiced this procedure many times, she had no problem steering the back of the raft.
When he began to feel dizzy, he pulled the tube down, broke it apart, and put it away. It was time to come in for a landing. Where? With nothing but darkness all around, they could only guess. Since this part of the river meandered, the best they could do would be to follow a straight line and listen for the rush of water as they descended.
He grabbed his guideline again. Looking below didn’t help. The darkness was complete, and the wall of fire was too far away to provide any light at all.
After sailing at least a thousand feet, they settled on a patch of sand. The river splashed along on their left about ten paces away.
Billy jumped out and lifted his corner. The raft was light. Good. Walter had already guided Dorian to his corner and helped her disembark, just as planned. They carried the raft to the river, and all five slid silently back into place.
After securing the wadded parachute next to Dorian, Billy picked up the two tubes, still warm to the touch, and reached one forward. Someone took it, probably Walter. He was supposed to use it to push off from the right front corner and Billy from the left rear in case the current rammed them into a beach.
Billy kept the far end of his pole in the water. Of course, he wouldn’t be able to see any bends coming, so he had to navigate by feeling the river’s depth.
As they rode the current in silence, Billy kept his stare fixed on the right-hand side. Adam’s Marsh lay there, and if anyone would challenge them, the attack would come from that direction.
A pair of torches came into view, maybe a stone’s throw away. Billy ducked low. As the raft passed the lights, he peeked up. One of the Nephilim stood next to a bitternut tree, his torches planted in the sand. As he ate one of the fruit, a torch fizzled out. He plucked it up and extended the top toward a dark mass. “Light it,” he growled.
A blast of fire shot out and coated the torch, illuminating it with a vibrant flame. A dragon sat on the beach, a small dragon, too small to be Goliath or Roxil, and it couldn’t be a Second Eden dragon. They breathed ice.
The dragon’s eyebeams fell on Billy’s cloak. He desperately wanted to brush them away, but that would just make him more obvious. Whoever this dragon was, it had spotted them, but it made no motion or sound, and the Naphil didn’t seem to notice.
When they reached a bend to the left, Walter pushed off the beach, and they passed out of the dragon’s sight. Billy let out a long sigh. Ashley took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She knew. Something strange was going on. That dragon could easily have sounded an alarm, but for some reason, it chose silence.
After pushing off the edge a few more times, Billy rested. The river had straightened, and the southern part of Abraham’s wall came into view. It was time to get ready for another plunge through fire.
Of course, the dragons had tried several times to blast through, but it repelled their blows, as if their bodies and the wall were similar magnetic poles. Was it their scales? Their photoreceptors? No one knew. But the effect was likely for the better. If Clefspeare and Hartanna couldn’t get in, then Goliath couldn’t get out.
Billy stared at the flames, searching for a shadow, any hint of Flint’s guards. So far, nothing. If all went according to plan, Valiant and Candle were now raising a ruckus a hundred paces to the west, close enough to lure any guards away.
Elam tapped Billy’s knee. Billy sent the signal along. They spread out the parachute again, and everyone ducked underneath. As before, the light grew brighter. Their raft was now exposed. The most dangerous part of the journey had arrived. If any guards were on duty and paying attention, this voyage was doomed.
Someone shouted. Another answered. Something whizzed above. Was it an arrow? A dull thunk struck the parachute, then another.
“Time to fire back,” Ashley said. She pulled a thin cylinder from her bag, yanked out a strand of twine from one end, and tossed the cylinder out from under the parachute. Within two seconds, it exploded. While more arrows rained down, whizzing by or piercing their covering, she threw out three more. With each explosion, the number of attacking arrows lessened.
The temperature spiked again. With a loud whoosh, blinding light flew over the raft from front to back. The arrows ceased. Tongues of fire shot through the chute’s holes and licked at their bodies. Finally, steam lifted the raft. The front tipped down, and the rear slung the passengers headlong into the river.
Billy tumbled through icy water. After a breath-stealing surge, he thrust his head above the surface and searched the turbulent river for the others. Ah! Ashley was treading water within reach, her wide eyes reflecting the nearby flaming wall. He grabbed her around the waist with one arm and began to swim for shore with the other, but something pulled his collar and jerked him up. Swinging toward Ashley, he locked his arms and legs around her. She relaxed and allowed herself to be dragged along.
Within seconds, he felt his body sliding on the beach. As strong arms helped him stand, he hoisted Ashley to her feet.
“Are you well?” came a deep, strong voice.
Billy looked at his helper. “Valiant! Thank you!”
“Yes,” Ashley said as she wrung out the fringes of her cloak. “We didn’t expect you to be here.”
Valiant draped a blanket over Ashley’s head and back. “I will explain soon. I must help Candle tend to the others.” He ran downstream, firelight dancing on the back of his cloak.
“He’s dry,” Billy said, shivering.
Ashley drew the blanket together. “I noticed. Then who dragged us from the river?”
A hot breeze swept across their bodies. Billy spread out his arms and let his wet clothes flap in the luxuriant draft. “I think we have our answer.”
Hartanna blew the stream of hot dry air while Clefspeare sat at her side. “Yellinia is hurt,” Clefspeare said. “Thigocia and Candle are tending to her.”
Billy translated his father’s words. Yellinia was Dorian. One of the arrows must have hit her, but she hadn’t made a sound. “How bad is it?” Billy asked.
“It does not appear to be a deep wound.” Clefspeare inhaled and took a turn blowing a warm wind.
Ashley pushed her fingers into her hair and shook out the water. “I’ll check on her in a minute.”
“I think your smoke bombs did the trick,” Billy said. “They couldn’t shoot what they couldn’t see.”
“I was afraid one of those arrows would puncture the raft.” Ashley let a smile break through. “When you think about it, every part of the plan worked pretty well.”
Walter and Elam joined them in the warmth, both shivering and wet. “Valiant t
hinks Flint got wind of our mission,” Elam said. “He and Candle tried their diversion, but no matter how much noise they made, only one Naphil stood guard at that part of the wall. When Valiant heard the ruckus over here, he and Candle ran to try to help, but there wasn’t anything anyone could do.”
Billy stripped off his cloak and let the heat radiate through his inner tunic. “But if they had a spy, wouldn’t they have stopped us a lot earlier?”
“I would have thought so,” Elam said.
“Did you see that dragon at the side of the river?” Walter asked. “Could he have flown ahead and warned them?”
Turning to give his back a chance to dry, Billy nodded. “I saw him, and I’m sure he saw us. If he betrayed us, why did he wait?”
“And who could he be?” Elam asked. “He was too small to be Goliath or Roxil but he was almost as big as Grackle.”
“A youngling?” Hartanna asked. “Has Roxil given birth?”
Clefspeare let the breeze die away. “There has been ample time to have two younglings by now, though only one could be old enough to fit the description.”
“I’d better check on Dorian now.” Ashley pushed her hair back and fastened a rubber band around it. “She might not be able to make the hike, so we’d better bring Merlin closer.”
“On my way.” Billy ran downstream with Ashley and stopped for a moment to check on Dorian before continuing into the prairie. As he hustled through the snow-covered grass, light from the wall dimmed. At least the dangerous part was over. Lions no longer hunted these fields, having migrated farther south. All he had to do was taxi Merlin across the snow, pick up a few human passengers, and fly back to the village.
Although cold air dried his throat, he pressed on. At one time, running a mile would have winded him, but now, even tromping with heavy boots through snow, it seemed like nothing. A warm rush flooded his body. His mother had noticed the change—taller, more muscular, she had said. He had become a warrior, and her affirmation felt good.
After jumping into Merlin and starting the engine, he eased it into a low-speed taxi and settled back in the pilot’s seat. What would they do now? Of course they could patch the parachute, but with Flint’s troops knowing how they had breached the border, would it be possible to try again the very next night? If not, how could he get word to his mother that they would be delayed? She would be expecting them. And what about Gabriel? Without the ability to penetrate the wall, how could they search for him?