by Daniel Kirk
“Disgusting,” Macta said. “The thing talks!”
“’Tis like the story of the beast in your father’s labyrinth,” Asra choked.
“A different kind of creature,” Macta said, “but aye, I’m reminded of the same thing. Perhaps someone is toying with us, watching all this from afar! Your Great Goddess, perhaps?”
The creature twitched as Powcca lunged again and again, tearing at its body. Then it shivered and died. It lay stretched across the corridor as Powcca chomped hungrily away at the monster’s abdomen. The odor was repulsive. Asra gagged. “Can’t you make your Goblin stop that?” she choked. “The monster spoke to us!”
“It was a monster, all the same,” Macta said. “And I’d wager there’ll be more where that one came from.”
Other sounds began to come from the darkness. Asra thought she could make out words in the distant, ominous buzz. “They’re coming,” she whispered. “They’re coming to get us!”
“Then we have to be fast,” said Macta. He held up his Kolli as his eyes scoured the ceiling for more of the holes, and more of the hideous creatures in the holes. “We’ve got to get out of here; we’ve got to find a place where the ceiling isn’t pockmarked like this.”
“Follow me,” Asra said, holding her own Kolli aloft. “Let’s try this way. If the labyrinth in Ljosalfar is exactly like this one, there’s a place ahead where we’ll have access to the entrance of three different tunnels. Come on!”
Macta snatched Powcca from the monster’s carcass and raced after Asra. When they came to a juncture in the corridor Macta turned to look back one last time. For one terrified moment he thought the monster was alive and moving, until he realized that a horde of other snake creatures had descended upon the fallen one and were gorging themselves on its succulent flesh.
With one hand holding the Kolli, and the other waving away clouds of dust from his face, he stumbled toward the place where the ceiling had collapsed. “Tomtar, can you hear me?” he hollered, yanking a jagged chunk of rock from the wall of rubble.
“’Tis no use,” Tuava-Li said from behind.
“What do you mean, no use? We’ve got to do something! Help me move the rocks, Tuava-Li. Don’t just stand there! You’re not helpless; can’t you do something? You must know some trick, some spell, to move the rocks?”
Tuava-Li felt as if her spirit had been crushed in the tunnel collapse. This was the end of her dreams, the end of her hope that the Goddess meant for her to plant the Seed of the Adri and save Elf Realm. Without Tomtar, there was no Troll to complete the trio, no way to form the perfectly shaped key that would unlock the door of myth, and legend, and please the Great Ones in Heaven. It was over, and she knew it. Matt grunted with exertion as he moved away the small, jagged rocks and heaved them onto the floor. “Come on,” he cried again. “You can make dolls move, you can create balls of fire to melt stuff, you told me about it, Tuava-Li! You can open locks, you have powers in your mind, you almost brought down the green man in Pittsburgh with those energy bursts of yours. You have to be able to get this tunnel open again!”
The Elf shook her head helplessly. She’d always believed that life had a purpose, and meaning, and a direction. But now, it all seemed hollow and empty. “I can’t believe it, we’ve come so far, and now it’s all ended by … an accident?”
“This wasn’t any accident,” Matt said. “Just before the ceiling fell, I saw Jardaine’s face staring at me out of a crevice. She’s down here, we both knew it, but why would she do this? She’s already got the seed, and she’s already got her own troll, Nick. Why hurt Tomtar?”
Tuava-Li was taken aback; Jardaine was a more dangerous opponent than she’d ever realized. “She’s hateful and malicious. Perhaps it’s her appetite for destruction. But I don’t think she intended to kill Tomtar alone—maybe she’s hedging her bets, and trying to kill us all, so there’ll be no chance we can interfere with her plans!”
“Look,” Matt said, “there’s no reason to assume Tomtar’s dead. He might be trapped on the other side of that wall, wondering if we’re okay!”
“I—I have an idea. All these passages seem to be connected in some way, Matt. If we can find the right tunnel, we should be able to come back around again, and see if Tomtar’s all right.”
“He’s got to be,” Matt said. “We didn’t come this far just to lose him!”
The pair hurried along the corridor, trying not to stumble on the endless mounds of rubble. It wasn’t long before they came to a series of three arches carved in the wall. Each of the arches was a portal into another stone corridor, cold and black as night. “Tuava-Li, these are the arches on my tattoo,” Matt said breathlessly.
“Let me look at your tattoos again!”
Matt pulled up his shirt, though he didn’t need to see the inky arches on his skin to remember that the third one had been colored bloodred. “Okay,” he said, “we’ve got to think. Tomtar’s blood isn’t red, it’s green, like yours. I thought the arches were supposed to be giving us a clue about how to find Becky. But now I don’t know. Maybe red means stop, don’t go that way. Maybe we’re supposed to take one of the other two tunnels. But which one? Why do my tattoos change if we can’t understand what they mean?”
“We should have looked at this more carefully,” Tuava-Li said, peering closely at Matt’s chest. She felt a sudden thrill of hope. “Or maybe the tattoo has just changed again. There’s a tiny spot of green, like a teardrop, running from the third portal. We’ll go that way, and if the Goddess smiles on us, Tomtar will be alive when we find him.”
Matt yanked his shirt down, turned without a word, and headed into the third corridor.
Tomtar stumbled along another passage, not far away. Becky walked in front of him, and Jardaine behind. Though she was exhausted, Jardaine wasn’t going to take a chance on the Troll attempting to get away. Tomtar struggled to speak. He kept trying to say something, to say anything, but Jardaine’s spell kept him mute. They came to the end of one corridor and had to decide whether to turn left or right. Jardaine leaned heavily against the wall; she felt as if she might pass out. Where her Huldu rested, her chest was throbbing. It has to be that infernal Seed, she said to herself. The Seed is drawing all my strength into itself.
“Are you all right, Astrid?” Becky asked.
The monk’s face was ashen. “I have to stop and rest. Just for a few minutes, that’s all. Becky, you keep an eye on the Troll and rouse me if he tries anything. He doesn’t dare run away without a Fire Sprite; ’twould be too dark without one. Make sure you keep your Kolli out of his reach.”
“But we tied his wrists,” Becky said. “He won’t be able to do anything!”
“Don’t trust him,” Jardaine ordered, and then she plopped down onto the floor with her back propped against the wall.
“You can’t go to sleep now,” Becky cried. “What if those snakes come back? I can’t fight them, and Tomtar’s tied up, so he couldn’t help even if he wanted to!”
Jardaine’s eyelids fell. Her head drooped to one side, and her jaw dropped open. With a sigh, Becky sat down in the dust across from Jardaine. She stared at Tomtar in the flickering light. He looked back at her pleadingly. Becky glanced at Jardaine, then scowled at the Troll. “Go on,” she whispered. “Just tell me what you want. Do you have to go to the bathroom? Are you hungry? Thirsty? I’m not going to do anything for you unless you talk to me and tell me where Matt is.”
Tomtar lifted his hands and pointed his fingers at his throat. He shook his head mournfully. Becky narrowed her eyes. “What are you trying to tell me? You can’t talk? Something’s wrong with your voice?”
Tomtar nodded vigorously. Becky looked at Astrid, deep asleep in the shadows, and then back at Tomtar. Her instinct was to take the chance and see if she could find out what the Troll wanted to say. If he could make any sound at all, there was a possibility she could figure it out. Maybe it would be just more lies. But if there was something else, if Tomtar was prepared to tell her anythi
ng about Matt … Nervously Becky crept toward him. “So you can’t talk. Can you whisper? Can you mouth the words you want to say? Maybe I’ll be able to understand.”
Becky’s face was just inches from Tomtar. He exaggerated the movements of his lips as he formed the words. He found that if he forced air through his lips, he could actually make a tiny, croaking sound that was too faint to be a real whisper. But with some effort, it might be enough to communicate. “H—her name is Jar—daine.”
“What?” Becky said.
Tomtar tried again, thrusting his head in the direction of the sleeping Elf, so that Becky would get the point. “Jar—daine, not As—trid.”
“Jardaine? Is that what you said? Wait, I’ve heard that name. Jardaine is the Elf who took my mom and dad and baby sister to Helfratheim!”
Tomtar nodded; Becky sat back, stunned. “You’re telling me she’s not who she says she is? If Astrid’s not her real name, if she’s the one who kidnapped my parents … then—then what’s going on? Why would she bring me here? Why would she lie to me, and make up some complicated story? Has she been lying to me from the beginning? Lying about everything?”
Tomtar nodded again.
Becky gave Tomtar a dubious look. “How do I know you’re not lying?”
Tomtar shrugged helplessly, though his face was wreathed in misery. There was nothing he could do to convince the girl he was on her side. Becky whispered, “Is Jardaine the one who stole your voice?”
Tomtar nodded.
“And what do you know about Matt—is he all right?”
Another nod.
“Is he with Tuava-Li, now?”
Tomtar mouthed the word aye.
“Did you know Matt is supposed to die when the Seed gets planted? Astrid, or Jardaine, whatever her name is, told me that you and Tuava-Li were planning to sacrifice his life when you got to the center of the earth.”
Tomtar’s eyes grew wide with horror at the thought. He shook his head and shuddered. Becky sat back and tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together. “I know you and Tuava-Li and Matt came here to plant the Seed. Does Tuava-Li have the Seed, now?”
Tomtar shook his head again.
“Then who has the Seed?” Becky asked. “Does anybody have it?”
Tomtar had a pretty good idea where the Seed might be. Though his wrists were tied, he tapped his thumbs against his own chest, and cast a glance at Jardaine.
“She has the Seed?” Becky asked. “On her chest? You mean, in her Huldu?”
Tomtar pressed his lips together and nodded.
“I don’t know what to do,” Becky said. “I can’t wait until she wakes up and ask her if she’s been lying to me, and demand that she shows me what’s inside her Huldu. But I don’t know if I can peek in there, either, without waking her up. I guess I’m just going to have to try. If she’s got the Seed, it’ll prove that you’re telling me the truth, Tomtar. And if she’s got the Seed, I’m going to have to get it away from her.”
Becky crept over to Jardaine. As delicately as she could, she undid the tie at the top flap of the Huldu, and then taking a deep breath, slipped her fingers inside. If the Elf woke up and found Becky digging around in her private pouch, she’d be very, very angry with her. But Jardaine didn’t even stir. There was a scrap of cloth at the back of the pouch. Becky felt the contours of the little bulge hidden inside, and she closed her fist around it. A jolt of electricity leapt up her arm like she’d put her fingers into an electric socket. “Oooooowwww!” she whimpered.
She yanked her hand back. Clutching her fingers, she looked at Tomtar. He nodded vehemently and glanced back at the Huldu. Jardaine hadn’t moved. Becky reached into the pouch again. This time, she took the cloth scrap by the corner and gave a far more gentle tug. When she’d extracted the scrap she could still feel its energy pulsing. She placed it on the boulder in the light of the Kolli and gingerly pulled the cloth away.
The Seed was glowing. A tiny shoot grew from its smooth surface, and two pale leaves sprouted from the top of the shoot. For a moment all Becky could do was stare in awe. She’d never seen anything so beautiful, or so strange. The sprout with the tiny leaves seemed to be swaying gently from side to side, like an underwater creature moving in the waves. Becky wrapped up the Seed, carefully avoiding touching it. It needs water, she thought. It needs water to grow.
Then she hurried to Tomtar’s side and dropped it into his pack. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I don’t know why I doubted you. Let’s get away from Jardaine, before she wakes up. Once we’ve put some distance between us and her, we’ll stop to cut you loose!”
the earth to its core, reverberating in every stone passage of the Underworld. Yggdrasil was pulling itself up by the roots, tendril after tendril. The shriek of wood against rock was an assault on Matt’s and Tuava-Li’s ears. They followed a long, curving passageway, staying alert for any sign of life. The slope of the floor seemed less pronounced, now; they both had the feeling that they weren’t descending anymore, that they were on a flat plane. The wall carvings that lined the rubble-strewn passages looked impossibly old, and every surface was thick with dust. They couldn’t help but notice, though, that the nature of the carvings was changing. The friezes they’d seen earlier, depicting war and battle between Elfin Clans, had given way to images of strong, gentle figures tilling the soil; lush fields of grain; birds, rabbits, and deer. There were places where deep burrows were gouged into the walls and ceiling. At first, Matt, whose energies were so focused on finding Tomtar, failed to notice the rough tunnels. They might have just been places where roots of the tree had pulled away, or where parts of the stonework had crumbled with age and neglect. But a strange odor was causing a nearly imperceptible dread to creep into his mind. “Tuava-Li, do you smell something?”
“I do,” the Elf whispered, her eyes scanning for danger. “I noticed it as soon as we left the Cord. But we had more urgent things to think about, and I assumed the odor must be mold, or possibly the residue of some kind of insect.”
“Insect? How could anything live down here, without food or water?”
“You’d be surprised, Matt,” Tuava-Li said, “how life adapts. But the smell has grown stronger, too strong. We might be approaching a burrow, or a nest of some kind. We should be care—”
There was a scuttling sound above their heads. Then a squeal, like a door opening on rusty hinges. Matt gasped when he saw the face of the thing appear from the darkness, its huge, yellow eyes glittering with menace. In alarm he dropped his Kolli. The lid snapped shut when it hit the floor. Now in semidarkness he grabbed Tuava-Li by the shoulder and yanked her toward him. She dropped her Kolli, too, and the Fire Sprite leapt from its box and dashed out of harm’s way, a rolling figure of smoke and orange flame. The awful creature was slipping down from a passage in the ceiling right above them. Matt could see its long, segmented body. Its gnarled claws had Tuava-Li by the hair and she was too shocked, too horrified, to do anything but collapse on the floor.
Matt reached instinctively for the knife in his pocket. He opened the blade, then grabbed for the monster and sunk the knife up to the hilt in its abdomen. When it let go of Tuava-Li she lurched forward, then spun around and faced the creature. Matt was backing up, keeping the wounded beast in sight, though there was something hypnotic about its gaze; he felt his mind freezing up, his body stiffening. Then he tripped over a rock and fell backwards. The monster was on him in a second, its foul breath like a poisonous fog. In the dim light of the Fire Sprite Matt could see its gleaming teeth descending toward his face; he managed to lash out again with his knife. Tuava-Li was shouting, though Matt couldn’t make out the words. He felt his arm working, slashing at the thing; he felt its hot Blood splattering on his skin, and he felt a blow from behind that swept past his head like a cannonball. The monster flew off him and struck the stone wall with a sharp crack. Its limp form collapsed on the floor.
Matt met Tuava-Li’s gaze; he knew she’d saved him with a bolt of energy that had
stopped the monster’s terrible heart. He didn’t have time to thank her, though. There were more scuttling sounds from behind and from above. Hunched and ready to fight, Matt dashed toward Tuava-Li. One pair of glittering eyes appeared from the ceiling, then another. Intruders, a voice screeched. Intruders must die, said another, and suddenly all the creatures were chattering in their strange, shrieking voices. They were behind Matt and Tuava-Li, they were in front, and they were above. There was no way to know how many there were, but it was obvious to Matt that they couldn’t fight them all. This was the end.
Then, oddly, exhilaration came over Matt that he’d never felt before. Free from all fear, all panic, all obligation to his family and friends, he lunged at one of the monsters with his knife outstretched. The blade struck one of its fearsome teeth and snapped in two. Now he was without a weapon; but still he threw himself at the monster and grabbed both its jaws in his hands. With his fingers wedged in between the beast’s teeth he pushed the jaws apart. He heard screaming and realized it was his own voice, roaring, full of terror and fierce abandon. Tuava-Li’s Fire Sprite leapt up and down on a boulder, its fiery arms and legs sparkling in excitement.
Tuava-Li turned to face the monsters gathering at their rear. She focused her energy and sent it hurtling into the closest creature’s body. Then she struck again, and the monsters reared back, snapping their jaws, and dropping, one by one, to the floor. “All right,” Matt yelled. “Way to go!”