He searched the ferns, riverbanks, reeds, falling water, mossy rocks and ridge for anything out of the ordinary, anything that might indicate a Kappa had been there. And not seeing anything abnormal, he felt as much disappointment as he did relief.
He spoke loudly over the sound of the roaring water. “If we go get Corliss and Pam, we can bring the P Z here—to see if we’re in the right spot.”
Yukiko was focused on the top of the waterfall. “Or . . . We could do some more climbing. That ridge is higher than the last one. We might see a village from up there, or even the lake.”
But we might also fall and break our necks, Digger wanted to say. The rock face was dripping wet and looked impossible to climb without a rope.
“Let’s see if there’s a drier way up—someplace that isn’t so steep.”
“But the poison in the river . . . We’ll need to drink some water if we do any more climbing. Really, Yukiko, we should go back now. My uncle’s canteen is there. And your dad’s.”
That’s when Digger saw a fallen tree. He hadn’t seen it before; most of it was concealed behind the glassy sheet of falling water.
Against the rock face, the tree rested at a sharp angle. Vein-like streams of water trickled down over its dead bark. Digger got closer, until he was right beside the waterfall, until the streams trickling down the tree flowed all the way to the tips of his muddy boots.
“That’s not safe to drink either,” Yukiko warned. “It’s from the river. You’ll end up like the ōsanshōuo.”
Digger bent over, until his forehead was almost touching the slanted trunk.
“Digger?”
He placed his hands on the thick bark. Without much of a yank, the bark—altogether, like a long flap—opened and hung off to one side. But a much bigger surprise was underneath that bark.
“Stairs,” Digger said to himself. He raised his eyes, following the narrow stairway behind the waterfall, all the way up into a plume of mist.
Yukiko ran her hand over the fourth step. “But who?” she asked. “And why?” Each stair was soggy and smooth. Digger tried the first one, trusting the tree to not splinter apart under his foot. It felt sturdy, so he took another step upward, and another, and another.
“Where do you think you’re going? . . . Digger?” Yukiko glanced past him at the misty shadows. There was no telling where the stairs ended. She tried again to get his attention. “Hey! Corliss needs a shower, but you’re okay. Digger, get back down here.” But it was no use, the waterfall was too loud for him to hear her. As swimming pools of water plummeted from above, he went up and up. Yukiko gave her rucksack straps a tug to tighten them. All righty, she told herself. I guess there’s no turning back now. And up the drippy stairs she went too.
Chapter 17—Split II
Corliss caught up with Pam near the campsite. She was sticking her tongue into her canteen to absorb its last few drops of water.
“Here, have some of mine.” Corliss handed her his canteen, which was not quite empty yet. “Dad hasn’t come back—his canteen is still by the fire pit.”
Pam took another sip.
“Why’d you run so fast, Sis? You’re not the fraidy sort, eh?” He sat down on a pile of crunchy-dry leaves.
“I’m not afraid of Kappas.” She stared gloomily at a twig.
“Then what was it?”
“Something else.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. And if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Try me, Pam.”
Her eyes combed the wilderness all around them, and then, seeing only the woods, she lowered her chin. Something had given her a horrible fright.
Corliss gave her a couple pats on the shoulder. “Pam, we have to go get Digger. As much as I don’t like Yukiko, we should all stay together, till help comes.”
“I know, but . . .”
“Dad can take care of himself, and he must’ve heard the P Z. We can’t blare this thing and then go somewhere else, right? The reason we made that noise was so Dad could find us. He might be climbing up the ridge as we speak.”
“Yes, but . . .”
“C’mon, let’s head back. Dig’s waiting for us up there.”
“No!” Her eyes filled with dread. “I’m not going up there again.”
“Pam, what did you see?”
“A big face.”
Corliss bent his head to one side and tried to imagine what Pam had seen. “What face? An animal? Not a Kappa.”
“No—Digger said Kappas are the size of monkeys. What I saw was three times bigger than a gorilla.” Pam shivered. “With a humungous red nose.”
Corliss picked up his canteen, wondering if his sister had somehow been poisoned by the river water. “Yikes. What’s with everyone seeing stuff lately? Where was the face, Pam?”
“Halfway down the ridge. I think the monster was creeping up on us.”
Corliss could tell his sister was not deliberately making things up. Even if she had imagined it, or seen a rock that resembled a head, she definitely believed that big-nosed face was real.
Corliss checked for any movement between the tree trunks, unsure of what to do next. “A log, maybe. A rock? Did it make any sounds?”
“No, no, and no . . . Just a face. With a big red nose, like I said.”
Corliss couldn’t get her to budge an inch. They would have to stay put and wait. Or hide? He wasn’t sure. But there was one thing he was soon absolutely sure of . . .
They were being watched.
* * *
The water falling at Digger’s side was as smooth as a sheet of ice. He could even make out his reflection rippling in the steady cascade. But a narrow strip of the waterfall was running into an overhanging root, causing a constant torrent of water and misty spray to fall like a curtain over the stairs, blocking Digger’s view of the other side. I have to walk through it, he told himself. But the poisons . . . And what if something dangerous is up—
Yukiko poked Digger’s leg. If she hadn’t, he might have gone back down. She had called his name a hundred times, but the falling water had drowned out her voice.
Seeing the determination in her face, Digger could tell she was waiting anxiously to climb the rest of the stairs. She pointed sharply upward, and then swished her hand around, as if to shoo away a fly. “Go on. Or get out of my way.”
Digger felt the dankness on his face as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he pressed his lips together and stepped through the drenching curtain.
The water was cool and hit hard, instantly soaking into his clothes. It rushed down his neck and under his shirt, spurting out at his belt. Although he’d stepped through quickly, he was now sopping wet.
With the back of his hand he wiped the water from his face. He opened his eyes, terrified that the water would blind him, but after several blinks, his vision seemed okay.
The odor of rotten eggs was everywhere. But mixed in with it now was the dank smell of cold, wet rocks, and something ancient.
The top of the log stairway fit snuggly into a notch in a rock slab floor. Digger walked up the final three steps. Sunlight was coming through the waterfall, flickering and shimmering on the floor like dancing butterfly ghosts.
Above the floor was a bright orangey-red beam, supported on either side by round orangey-red columns, which held the beam in the air. Together, the beam and columns formed what appeared to be some kind of gate.
“Am I supposed to stand here getting wet all day?” Yukiko shouted from under the curtain of water. Water was streaming from her hair and all around her. Digger stepped onto the rock floor to get out of her way, then slipped off his rucksack.
They were in a cavern and couldn’t tell how far into the earth its dark rock tunnel went. But what really stunned them were the four long rows of shells. Each was about the same shape as the one in Doctor Doyle’s office, and each a slightly different shade of marshy green. All the shells were propped up lengthwise, from rear to top, against tripods
of sturdy sticks. Their rounded backs all faced the waterfall and their unique patterns caught what little light filtered into the cavern. There were dozens of them, and maybe lots more they couldn’t see in the darkness deeper in the cave.
“Yukiko, what is this place?”
“No idea—but the Plastron-Zetetic works.” She reached into her rucksack as she walked up to a shell.
“They look like the one my father put on his desk.”
“And the one somebody sent to my house.”
“What do we do now?”
“We take pictures.” Yukiko pulled out a palm-sized camera. “This is a torii,” she said, placing her hand on one of the orangey-red columns. “It’s like a gate, without doors. If you pass through one—people believe—you’ll enter some place traditional, or sacred.”
“Is it man-made?”
“If I felt like teasing you right now, Digger, I’d tell you it is not man-made but forms naturally in caves, or wherever we are. But we’ve just made the discovery of the century. So, we need to take some pictures and then get out—” Her eyes darted back toward the falling water.
“What is it?” Digger’s chest was thumping again.
“I thought I saw . . . Oh, it was probably only a tree branch or something, going down the waterfall.” Her shoulders relaxed. “What was I saying? That’s right—photos, proof. Why don’t you stand over there? If you’re in the pictures, people will get a sense of how big these shells are.”
Digger did as he was instructed. “Over here?”
“That’s fine, but stand right between them. Good. Okay, look at me, Digger. All right, ready?” Like lightning, the flash on Yukiko’s camera lit up the cave for a fraction of a second. “Digger, can you lift one? If you can, I’ll shoot a photo of the sticks holding it up.”
“Are you sure we should move them?” he asked, blinking to melt away the strike of the flash.
“Don’t let them scare you—they aren’t attached to any creatures, Digger.” She laughed. “Nothing’ll pop out and bite you.”
Digger found a smaller shell which he could easily pick up. Yukiko snapped picture after picture, and as the flash went off, Digger glimpsed some movement too.
A shadowy figure had scooted behind a shell, close to the brink of the cavern’s mouth. Digger also noticed that his rucksack was missing. He had placed it on the floor by the edge.
“Yukiko,” he whispered, then pointed at the shell, on the other side of which someone or something was hiding. The wet hairs on his arms were sticking out. He hoped it was Pam over there, all set to jump out and surprise them. “There is someone behind that shell . . . And my bag. It’s gone.”
Yukiko lifted her camera to her chin, about to press the button. With a finger over her lips she silently hushed Digger.
Swiftly she sprung to the other side of the shell, rapidly firing the camera flash by holding down the button. “That’s not yours,” she yelled, and yanked Digger’s rucksack out of a human hand.
Digger saw the boy. Blinded by the flashes and grasping for something to hold onto, he stumbled about, blinking his eyes, and then fell sideways over a shell. Not only did he fall, but five shells also came crashing down, like dominoes, and the noise echoed deep into the cave.
Yukiko tossed Digger his rucksack and grabbed one of the sticks now rolling around the floor. She raised it over the boy. Digger picked up one as well, though he couldn’t bring himself to threaten the boy with it.
The boy looked strong enough to knock Corliss to the ground. He had longish dirty-blonde hair and a tough face. He wore a brown leather vest, filthy jeans, and well-worn cowboy boots. This must be a Grudgings, Digger figured, but which one?
Yukiko was prepared to clobber the Grudgings boy with the stick. “Tell me right now where your father and brother are,” she demanded, “or I’ll club you on the head with this.”
The Grudgings boy rubbed his eyes as the echoes finally faded away. He smirked at Yukiko. “Hi, Yukiko. Long time no see,” he said cheekily.
“I mean it, Braden, tell me where your father is,” she again demanded, waving the stick in his face.”
“Shouldn’t you be asking about your own father?”
“Huh?”
“Your father . . .” Braden sneered. “He’s who you should be asking about.”
Yukiko flew into a rage. “WHERE IS HE?”
“Mine? Or Yours? If you still want to know where mine is . . .” Braden glanced back toward the waterfall. “. . . mine’s here.”
Then Digger saw him. “Yukiko! Behind you!” Her stick dropped with a clang.
Big Bee peered through the curtain of water at the top of the stairway. His ugly face and grungy beard dripped with river slime as he grinned horribly from ear to ear. His laugh, like a thousand razor blades, bounced off the cavern walls and pierced through the cave’s age-old darkness.
* * *
The only way Corliss could convince his sister to return to the ridge was by insisting Digger might be in urgent need of their help. He promised not to take her back to the top. “We’ll walk around to the other side,” he told her. “If he’s up there, he’ll see us.”
Pam stuck close, not making a peep. She was so quiet Corliss twice had to make sure she was still following him.
“Digger wouldn’t go much farther into these woods without us,” he said as they walked around the shaded base of the ridge. “But I’ll bet my last drop of water that Yukiko dragged him off to find the waterfall.”
Pam stayed silent. Her eyes shifted back and forth.
“Don’t worry, Sis. If Dad hasn’t come yet, he’s on his way for sure. He’ll find us.”
Again, no response from Pam.
When he looked back this time, he thought she might have caught sight of their father. She’d stopped more than a few steps behind Corliss. Her eyes were fixed on some distant point. “Do you see Dad out there, Pam?” Corliss clapped his eyes on the same spot—dense with trees and underbrush and a ways away. He was ready to jump for joy, expecting his father to pop out of the deeper woods. Until he saw . . .
“Big beasts,” he gasped. “Why couldn’t they be friendly little Kappas?”
Pam stood petrified.
Two giant winged goblins were charging straight for them.
“They heard us,” Pam muttered.
Then, in his loudest voice ever, Corliss screamed, “Ruuuuun!”
Chapter 18—Water Falls
Big Bee’s face was crinkled and leathery, with a pair of crisscrossing scars on his right cheek. The hunter’s eyes were as icy as chain links in mid-winter. His long, sopping coat, scraped-up boots, wiry beard, and black hat all made him appear even more grisly.
Digger’s hands were up, with palms out, as if to shield himself from danger.
Big Bee slapped his cowboy hat against his leg to cast off the water and river goo. He sniggered at Braden, who was still on his back on the rock floor. “Well, well, well . . . The Satori girl—and that ankle-biter of a boy—have you on the ground, do they, Braden?” He shook his head as if his son was useless or worthless.
“Bruno, get up here,” Big Bee hollered down the log stairway. “Braden, on your feet. Tie those two up with your rope—’n‘ tie ’em tight.”
Yukiko steadied herself and went for the stick she’d dropped, but Big Bee placed his heavy foot on it, then kicked it out of the cavern, through the waterfall.
“Leave us alone,” Yukiko shouted angrily. “My father will be here soon.”
“Oh, no he won’t.” Big Bee let out a cruel laugh.
“Huh? Wha . . . What did you do to him? Where is he?”
Big Bee didn’t answer. Instead he grasped her by the hair and dragged her over to Digger. Braden pulled a coil of rope out of his satchel.
Big Bee took a moment to consider Digger as he stood over him. “So, you’re the one.” Digger shrunk back. He didn’t have the faintest idea what Big Bee meant by the one. Baldric scratched his hairy wet jaw. “You may come in u
seful to me someday . . . If you make it out of here alive, that is.”
The other Grudgings boy, Bruno, burst up through the curtain of water. His filthy crooked face and scuzz-covered clothes made him look much rougher and tougher than his brother. His hair was greasier, and a bumpy scar separated his chin into halves.
He wiped his forehead with a sleeve and spat at the waterfall. Then he gave Yukiko a foul smile, revealing at least two rotting teeth, and one missing. “Hi there, Yukiko. You miss me, sweetheart?”
“Not now, Bruno. Find the mirror, damn it. It’s here someplace. Check their bags while you’re at it. One of ’em might’ve found it already.”
Had Digger heard correctly? Mirror? Inari-san mentioned a mirror. But what could these ugly Grudgings possibly need a mirror for?
Braden, holding the rope with both hands, ordered Digger to sit with his back to Yukiko’s. Digger had no choice. He scooted closer to her, his pants soaking up more water from the rock floor.
Bruno rifled through their rucksacks. He dropped their canteens onto a fallen shell and some clothes as well. “It’s not here, Pops.” He lifted his head and gazed into the cave’s darkness.
Big Bee knocked down a shell with the back of his hand. “This must be the cave the old man was talking about . . . The relic’s here. Go deeper. It’s valuable. Go on. Get in there.” And Bruno quickly did as he was told.
“Your hands,” Braden said with no emotion. Digger and Yukiko put their wrists together behind their backs. But Yukiko didn’t make it easy for Braden. She kept moving her arms and fingers each time he tried to get the rope around her wrists.
Bruno called out from the cave. “Hey, Pop. Guess what I have?” He emerged holding a hand mirror.
Decorating the mirror’s frame were vibrant gems, which, along with the mirror’s glass, reflected the light and projected spots of soda-pop colors onto the walls, ceiling and floor.
“Well done, Bruno. That’s it! Braden, you see that? You see how your brother gets the job done? He found the mirror quick ’n‘ fast—just like he snatched the jewel. Learn something, boy. You’re supposed to be the family thief. Learn from your brother.”
Digger Doyle's Real Book of Monsters Page 11