by David Estes
The light doesn’t reveal anything unexpected. We are 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 gonna test the next waterfall?” Cole says.
“Simple—we jump through,” I say.
“You said you were gonna 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 is 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 is 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 is unlikely the rock fell very far.
“Ladies first,” Cole 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 is 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. It 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 are in for a surprise.
First of all, we don’t need our flashlights anymore. Dull light slides into the tunnel beyond us. There is 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. (No, we aren’t still holding hands at this point, I’m not that corny.) 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 are 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.
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 more keen 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 a bit 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, Cole, I’m sure it’s deep enough.”
At that moment Tawni and Elsey splash into the tunnel, panic written all over their faces.
Chapter Sixteen
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 is 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 is 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 a 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 is coming from.
“What do we do?” Roc says.
“Wait,” I say. We don’t have much of a choice. We’re laying 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 are 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’m not usually one to judge based on appearance, but this woman is hideous. 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 is 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 Adele! and Run! count 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 is 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 is doing: preparing a fire. And above it is a spit, constructed with a pile of rocks on either end and a metal bar across them. It is about the length of a human, I think.
Roc and I realize it 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. How dare Roc question my feelings for Adele? How does he know what I am feeling or what it can motivate me to do? And how dare this cannibalistic woman eat us when I haven’t even had a chance to meet Adele, to see if she feels anything for me, too, or if it is just in my head as Roc so ruthlessly suggested?
Pure determination floods my body for the first time in my life. It is 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 is 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 headbutt the woman right between the eyes, causing her to emit a shriek 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 are 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 a 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 a speed and quickness that is almost supernatural, and charges us, her hands outstretched and curled into clawed hooks.
I scream, and Roc screams even louder, but more high pitched and girly. 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. Perhaps she is invulnerable to fire, able to sit in it like a warm bath. Or worse, maybe fire gives her strength, recharging her powers.
We run into the darkness, which becomes deeper as we get further from the fire. The space narrows and forms a tunnel, and soon we are running blind, yet again. Roc manages to get a light out of our pack and flick it on.
We should have kept running in the dark. The images that flash into view will forever haunt me, burned into my memory till the day I die.
Skeletons: some fully intact and leaning against the wall; others broken and mangled, scattered on the floor; yet others mounted on the walls like trophies—here a skull, there a foot. It doesn’t take a genius to know they didn’t die from natural causes, that their flesh has been bitten off by ragged teeth.
If I hadn’t had so little to eat in the last couple of days I would throw up all over myself. Instead, I dry-heave, as my stomach pulses repeatedly, in an attempt to upchuck anything that is left in it. Roc is doing the same, bent over his knees, convulsing.
I spit out the little bile that has forced its way into my mouth, steal the light from Roc, and shine it further down the tunnel. The trail of skulls ends just a few feet down the path; nothing blocks our escape.
“C’mon, man,” I say, flicking off the light and tugging at Roc’s elbow. Huddled together, we shuffle through the dark, until I’m sure we are far enough away from the…the stuff.
I turn the light on just in time to see that the tunnel is curving tight to the left. Roc seems to be recovering, so I release him and let him walk on his own.
It isn’t until we’ve walked for a couple of hours that I feel safe again. Neither of us has spoken, lost in dark thoughts, reliving the horrors we’d just experienced.
Finally, Roc says, “All those people…” His voice sounds numb, like he still doesn’t really understand what we’d seen.
“Nothing we can do for them now.”
A fe
w more minutes of silence, and then Roc says, “Tristan, I’m sorry about what I said. I was just scared, that’s all.”
I grit my teeth. As angry as I was when he questioned our pursuit of Adele, I have to admit that there is some truth to it, which makes me even angrier. I feel foolish. Stupid! “No, Roc. You’re right. I dragged you into this mess. And for what? For some girl I’ve never met, who probably doesn’t know me from you, who might even hate me! What the hell are we doing out here?”
Roc sighs. “I have thought that at times,” he says. “But then I think how noble it is that you’re following your heart, taking a risk, defying your father. I don’t know how it’s all going to end, but if we don’t go, we might regret it for the rest of our lives. I feel like maybe we’re meant to be doing this.”
Roc sounds so solemn as he speaks, as if our trek across the Moon Realm is a sacred quest and not just me chasing some girl with a pretty face, who happens to be an escaped convict and possibly dangerous. He also makes it sound like we’re in it together. It isn’t my quest, but his, too, and he is in it to the end with me. Given the argument we had just before we were about to be roasted on a spit, it’s a complete one-eighty for him.
“So we keep going?” I say.
“I was just trying to make you feel better,” Roc says with a smirk. “It’s not like we have another choice—can’t go back.”
He’s trying to downplay the wisdom in his words, but I know better. He isn’t just trying to make me feel better. He truly believes—like me—that we are meant to be on the path we are on, for better or worse. Better would be finding Adele and not having her slap me and walk away; worse would be falling into the evil clutches of a mad cannibal woman with super strength. My guess: we might end up somewhere in between.
But Roc’s words have more than just cemented my belief that we are doing the right thing. They also make me think about what we are doing and why. To this point, it has all been about finding Adele, keeping her safe, and potentially, if the fake suns and moons and stars of the Tri-Realms align, getting to know her. But now it feels like there is some deeper purpose to it all, one I want to explore.