by Kate Forsyth
Sebastian gulped. He did not like small, dark spaces. But there had to be a way out, he told himself. He squared his shoulders and kept climbing down.
But the steps kept winding down, down, down, and soon Sebastian’s legs were aching. He heard Elanor’s breath coming in little gasps and wondered if she was crying.
A long time later, Tom’s voice came wavering through the gloom. ‘We’ve reached a passageway. At last. Did she say to turn left or right? I can’t remember.’
‘I don’t remember either,’ Elanor quavered.
‘Left,’ Quinn said.
‘Right,’ Sebastian said.
‘It was left,’ Quinn insisted, impatiently.
‘Right,’ Tom replied. ‘Sorry, I mean, yes, fine, left it is.’
The light veered to the left.
‘Who put you in charge?’ said Sebastian furiously, at last reaching the bottom of the steps.
‘I’m the one with the light,’ came the distant answer. ‘Feel free to turn right if you want!’
The light went on down the left-hand passageway, growing dimmer till it disappeared.
Sebastian stumped after it, promising himself he would pummel that pot-boy to pieces the very first chance he got.
11
THE CAVE OF ICICLES
Stumbling with weariness, Quinn followed the small, bobbing light. The passageway branched again and again, sometimes winding through rock, sometimes leading down steep, crude steps, sometimes opening up into caverns where old chests were piled in heaps against the walls.
Left, left, right, she repeated endlessly in her mind. Left, left, right. But other words broke her concentration. Griffin … unicorn … dragon … sea-serpent … sleeping heroes … an impossible quest … She wondered if they would pass through the cavern where the sleeping heroes were lying. How long had they been there, asleep? Would their hair and beards have grown tremendously long? Would they be spun with cobwebs, or shrouded with dust? Perhaps their clothes would be moth-eaten, or nibbled to pieces by mice. In her imagination, Quinn saw them, grey and stern and forbidding. She imagined trying to wake them, imagined their anger. Then she stumbled and almost fell.
Take care, little maid. The dark is deep and the way is long, and once thou art lost, the way will be gone.
The voice that spoke to her was low and weary, the voice of an old, old man. Quinn started with surprise, and looked around her.
There was no old man to be seen.
Quinn realised with a sudden chill that she had been walking in a daze, hardly aware of her surroundings.
The bobbing light had paused at a junction. ‘Which way?’ Tom asked. His eyes were very blue in his dirty face.
Had they gone left last time, or right? Quinn couldn’t remember. She thought of all the times her mind had wandered in her weariness. Had she missed a turn-off? Had they gone the wrong way?
‘It’s left this time,’ Sebastian said.
‘I think it’s left too,’ Elanor said. ‘I am sure we only turned left once since we last turned right.’
‘No, it’s right,’ Tom said. ‘I’ve been keeping track.’
‘Then why did you ask Quinn?’ Sebastian demanded.
‘I just wanted to be sure,’ Tom answered.
Elanor looked from one to another. Her forehead was drawn down into an anxious knot.
Once thou art lost, the way will be gone, the old, tired voice said again.
‘I don’t know the way,’ Quinn said, hearing the panic in her own voice. ‘I’m sorry.’
Tom drew his dagger, and used it to scrape four narrow marks on the wall.
‘So we know we’ve been here,’ he explained. ‘We’ll explore one way and then the other, till we find a sign we’ve gone astray.’
Then, after a lot more argument, they turned left. The passageway wound on a long way, but then led into a small cave with a stone shelf where an ancient blanket lay rotting. Chained to the walls were some manacles.
‘No bones,’ Tom said, poking the old blanket with his dagger. ‘That’s good.’
Quinn couldn’t bear the thought of some prisoner being left down here in the darkness. She backed away from the room. ‘Come on, we have to find the right way again.’
‘Are we lost?’ Elanor asked.
‘Just a little detour,’ Sebastian reassured her.
‘I told you we should have turned right,’ Tom said.
They all walked on in silence.
‘I’m thirsty,’ Elanor said.
Tom passed her the waterskin. One gulp and it was all gone. Quinn was thirsty too. She hoped they would find more water soon.
‘I’m so tired,’ Elanor said after a while. ‘Can we stop a while?’
‘The lantern’s guttering,’ Tom answered. ‘It’ll soon go out.’
Everyone’s steps quickened.
At last the passageway opened out into a vast cavern, hung with what looked like thousands of icicles. When Quinn touched one, she realised it was not made of ice, but rather some kind of damp, pale stone. Below, more stone icicles grew up out of the slippery stone floor. In some places the two met, forming weirdly shaped columns and arches, coloured in all shades of white, cream, yellow and blue. Fergus whined, his tail tucked out of sight. Tom lifted his lantern high, but there was only yawning darkness above them. Water tinkled somewhere.
‘This must be the Great Cave,’ Quinn cried. Her voice echoed strangely. ‘Now all we need to do is follow the water.’ Fergus leapt forward, and led them to a narrow stream. He bent his shaggy head and lapped thirstily. All four children bent and scooped up water in their hands. They were too thirsty to worry about how clean the water was. It was icy and tasted a little metallic but they gulped it down eagerly, and Tom refilled the waterskin.
Then they hurried on, keeping close together in the bitterly cold darkness, following the stream. Quinn’s bare feet felt frozen, and she was grateful for the warmth of the white shawl about her shoulders.
The stream wound along the floor of the cavern, carving its way through the soft, slippery stone. Elanor shrieked as she slipped sideways and splashed into the stream. Sebastian tried to yank her out and fell hard on his backside. Quinn only saved herself by grabbing at one of the stone icicles. When Tom tried to pull Sebastian up, his feet slipped out from under him and down he went again. Sebastian got up, rubbing himself and looking furious.
‘You did that on purpose,’ he said to Tom.
‘I didn’t, I swear,’ Tom replied, trying not to laugh.
Sebastian pushed him and Tom stumbled back into the stream.
‘Now my boots are wet! Thanks a lot.’ He squelched out of the stream and would have shoved Sebastian back if Quinn had not said, ‘Stop it, you two. If you break a leg you’ll be stuck down here.’
The thought of being trapped in the cold and dark sobered them all, and they hurried as fast as they could along the stream, as the light in the lantern sank lower and lower.
The stream slowly grew deeper and wider, running swiftly over the rocks in small cascades. They followed it, scrambling and slipping, until it widened out into a blue-green lake that filled the far end of the cavern. The stone icicles framed it like delicate lace.
Bobbing up and down in the water was a small, brown boat, tied to a stone column. Round, golden eyes had been painted on either side of the prow, which was carved to look like an owl’s beak.
‘What on earth is a boat doing here, on a lake so deep underground?’ Tom cried.
‘It’s odd,’ Elanor said. ‘I don’t like it.’
‘Perhaps the boat is for us, to help us escape,’ Quinn said. She lifted up her white skirts and stepped into the water. ‘Ow! This water’s freezing.’ She waded towards the boat and grasped the rope, pulling the vessel towards her.
‘I don’t think you should do that,’ Sebastian said.
Quinn leant over and pulled out a thick brown rug. ‘There are cushions and blankets inside,’ she said, sniffing the rug. ‘It doesn’t smell damp at a
ll.’
‘We could rest in there for a while,’ Tom said. ‘Much better than sitting on the damp, cold rocks.’ He sat on a rock and took off his wet boots.
‘I don’t know,’ Sebastian said. ‘Maybe it’s a trap.’
‘A trap set by who?’ Tom jeered as he splashed towards the boat, holding the dying lantern high, his boots in his other hand. He put one hand on the side, holding it steady, then leapt in. ‘Mmmm, warm. Come on, Lady Elanor. Aren’t you cold and tired?’
‘Indeed, I am,’ she agreed, still hesitating.
Quinn had already clambered aboard, and was sighing in relief as she sank down on one of the cushioned seats. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘There’s no need to fear. Can’t you see this boat must belong to Arwen?’
Elanor and Sebastian hesitated.
‘Besides,’ Quinn said, holding high the knapsack, ‘we have all the food.’
12
THE BOAT WITH OWL EYES
Quinn laughed as Sebastian instantly sat down to take off his long boots and stockings, rolling his leather leggings to above the knee. Elanor took off her slippers and kilted up her silken skirt, and Sebastian helped her through the icy water to the boat.
‘I thought the food would persuade you,’ Quinn said. She saw a small locker to one side and opened it. ‘Look, here’s another lantern,’ Quinn said. ‘We won’t be in the dark after all.’
She took Tom’s lantern, which had almost spluttered out, and managed to light the fresh lantern with a long taper she found in the cupboard. Light flared up, showing for an instant just how immense the cavern was. Then it settled down, filling the boat with a warm glow. Tom refilled his lantern and hung it at the back of the boat, as the other two clambered in and made themselves comfortable.
Then Tom whistled Fergus.
The wolfhound ran back and forth on the shore, whining, then evidently decided he must risk the lake. He galloped towards the boat, sending up great sprays of water, then leapt in. The boat rocked wildly as he landed.
‘Fergus!’ Quinn moaned. ‘Must you?’
The dog grinned happily, then shook himself violently. Water flicked all over the four children. They all groaned and hid their faces, till Fergus at last settled down at their feet.
‘Is there any smell worse than wet dog?’ Sebastian said, leaning as far away from Fergus as he could get.
‘Yes. Wet boy,’ Quinn replied at once, holding her nose and leaning away from Sebastian. He grimaced at her and she laughed.
‘How about some food?’ Tom said. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.’
They investigated the knapsacks, and found bread, cold sausage, pork pies, apples and currant buns. All four fell upon the food with gusto. It had been a long and exhausting night. Fergus ate a whole pie and five sausages by himself, then begged titbits from each in turn.
Once they had eaten their fill, they put the remains of the feast back in the knapsacks.
‘We’d better get moving,’ Quinn said, forcing herself to get up from her warm and comfortable position. She undid the rope, and used an oar to push the boat away from the shore.
Sebastian sat up. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Seeing where the boat takes us, of course.’
The boat spun out, and was quickly caught by a current.
Sebastian gripped the sides of the boat as it gathered speed. ‘I’m not sure that was a good idea,’ he said. ‘We don’t know what lies ahead!’
Quinn smiled. ‘Isn’t that half the fun of it? Anyway, Arwen must use this boat herself, so we know it can’t go anywhere too dangerous.’
‘But she probably uses magic to keep it under control,’ Sebastian retorted.
The boat was now racing down a narrow river. The walls of the cavern loomed close on either side, the sharp stone icicles hanging right above the children’s heads.
‘Look out!’ Quinn yelled. ‘Duck!’
Tom ducked, just avoiding smashing his head on a rock.
‘We’re going too fast,’ Elanor cried. ‘Can’t we slow down?’
A great pillar of rock was right in their way.
‘Lie low!’ Sebastian ordered. He seized an oar, and pushed the boat away from the pillar. The boat swerved and spun, and banged against the far wall. Fergus whimpered, pressing against Tom’s leg. Tom pushed him away. He had seized the other oar and, pushing with all his strength, managed to shove the boat away from the wall. It steadied, speeding along once more.
‘There’s a curve ahead,’ Quinn said.
Together the two boys worked their oars. They surged round the corner, and saw before them a heavy iron grate, with water gleaming faintly beyond.
‘We’re going to crash!’ Elanor shouted, crouching down in the bottom of the boat, arms over her head. Fergus whined, pressing himself against her, and she flung an arm around him, protectively.
Desperately, the two boys heaved on the oars, trying to slow the boat’s progress. But nothing would work. The boat was speeding straight for the grate. A collision was seconds away.
Look up, little maid, the mysterious old voice said. There are times when it is wise to wait, and times when thou must seize the moment by the tail.
The tail? Quinn looked up and saw a rope dangling above her. It ran through a pulley to the grate. She stood up, reaching for it.
‘What are you doing?’ the boys called. ‘We’re about to crash! Get down!’
Swaying precariously, Quinn ignored them. She grasped the rope and yanked it hard. With a rusty roar, the iron grate swung up and out of the way, and the boat shot out into the expanse of water. Quinn was knocked off-balance and fell back into the boat, her landing softened by the cushions and blankets. The grate swung down and closed with a shudder behind them.
The boat spun and slowed and eventually came to a stop against a stone wall. Tom caught hold of an iron ring, to stop the boat from sliding away again.
‘How did you know to do that, Quinn?’ Sebastian wanted to know.
‘I just … I just saw the end of the rope approaching and thought maybe it would lift the grate,’ Quinn lied. She was too exhausted, and too puzzled by the mysterious voice in her head, to even try and explain.
It was almost dawn. The water was now a pale grey under the swirling mist, the sky above even paler. Quinn saw a low dark archway to either side, and, beyond, the black silhouette of trees and hills and the pointed roofs of houses. She realised they had come out under the bridge. To the left was the harbour with the town of Wolfhaven crouched on its shores. To the right the river wound its way through meadows and forest, heading north-east. The tide was going out, which meant the boat was being dragged towards the harbour.
Quickly Tom tied the boat up to the ring in the stone wall, then blew out the lanterns. ‘We don’t know if the town has been taken over by the invaders,’ he explained. ‘Until we find out, we don’t want anyone to see us. All the river traffic would go under the central arch, so we’re completely hidden here.’
‘What shall we do?’ Elanor asked. Her face was white in the dim dawn light, her hazel eyes enormous.
‘Let’s see what’s happening in the town,’ Quinn said, taking a telescope from the cupboard. She looked through its eye-piece at the town. It was hard to see much, the mist was so thick, but every now and again it swirled away, giving her a glimpse of the streets.
Everything was strangely peaceful. She saw a woman on her knees scrubbing her front steps. A milkmaid led her cow from door to door, a yoke with two pails set upon her shoulders. A baker was setting out fresh rolls in his window.
‘It’s like nothing has happened,’ she said, baffled. Sebastian tried to seize the telescope from her, but she shoved him away. ‘Wait!’
She trained the telescope on the castle, sweeping it along the battlements. Suddenly she stiffened. A tall black form in a helmet with boar tusks stood on the castle ramparts. He was issuing orders with a forceful fist. The skeletal shapes of bog-men scuttled away, thousands of them.
&n
bsp; ‘The tusked knight,’ she whispered. ‘I think he’s looking for us.’
‘We need to get away,’ Tom said. ‘Hide out in the forest.’
‘Hide?’ Sebastian said scornfully. ‘We should be rousing the town, and gathering an army.’
‘No, it’s smart,’ Tom replied. ‘If we try to rescue anyone now, we’ll only get caught ourselves. No-one in the town can stand against that tusked knight and his bog-men. We’ll only get them and ourselves killed. No, we need to get help first.’
‘Tom’s right,’ Elanor said. ‘What can we do, four of us alone?’
Fergus gave a little whuff and she rubbed his ears. ‘I’m sorry, Sir Fergus. Four children and one brave dog.’
‘We should go now, while there’s still mist to hide us,’ said Tom. ‘It might burn off as the sun comes up and then we’d be seen.’
‘The tide’s against us,’ Quinn said. ‘We’ll have to row.’
Everyone groaned. They were all so tired, no-one really wanted to spend the next few hours rowing against the tide.
‘We mustn’t be caught,’ Elanor said. ‘If we are taken prisoner too, then who shall rescue my father and his people?’
‘We’ll just have to bend our backs to it,’ Sebastian answered, flexing his arm muscles.
‘You’d best be quiet,’ Tom said. ‘If that’s possible.’
Sebastian reddened and seized one oar. ‘I’ll go first!’
‘No, I will!’ Tom seized the other.
‘You’re both as noisy as cats in a fight,’ Quinn said. ‘I’ll row!’
She took the oars and began to manoeuvre the boat out onto the misty river. Slowly, they glided away from the bridge.
A shout rang out above them. Two knights had been standing guard on the bridge. They must have seen the shape of the boat through the mist. ‘Ahoy! Over here!’ one shouted.