Once they’d reached the far end of the lough, the leprechaun sprang from the bridge and landed with a flurry of slips onto the ice.
“Whoooah!” he yelled, flapping his arms until he found balance. “How are ya supposed ta swim in here, anyways? There’s no way in! I often wondered about that when I was here lasht.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Khrum,” sighed the fed-up Grogoch. “But still, I don’t like the idea of angry sentinel sea monsters coming to gobble us up, either. So let’s just leave it alone and get some food. I’m starved!”
“Hold your horses, will ya! Don’t ya want ta know about these sort o’ things? I thought ya were into history ‘n’ all that tripe?” Khrum asked, adapting so well that he’d broken into a graceful skate. “I heard there’s a never-ending world o’ delicious fishies below here. The freshest fishies on the land...an’ certainly a damned sight fresher than what comes outta that aul’ schoolbag o’ yours, lad. Down there is a watery land where ya can breathe just fine...just like ya were on land. A place where there are no troubles from the likes o’ Drevol bloody Briggun I’ll bet, too.”
He then jumped into a terrific spin before landing into a sequence of figure eights.
“Who knows?” said the Grogoch with a tut, growing more aggravated out of hunger. “As you said, there’s no way in, so we’ll never find out, will we? So let’s just be off!”
“Oh, I suppose you’re right!” moaned Khrum. “I could do with a morsel myself.”
But before leaving the frozen lake for good, he wanted to do just one final twirl.
He broke into a nimble dash, with one arm behind his back and his head low.
Commentating, as if in a race, he muttered, “An’ here we have the amazin’ Khrum, comin’ up ta his lasht hurdle. Never have we seen such grace, here in the finals o’ the Lythiann ice-rippin’ championships.”
Quicker, and quicker, and quicker, he skated, until he was blazing along with shavings of ice spraying up all about him. Meanwhile, William and Icrick had almost vanished from sight, having already disembarked the bridge, and were on their way through the bushes on the other side.
With one glorious leap, Khrum jumped into a triple twist. Elegant though it was, he landed into a not so graceful recovery, for he plummeted straight through that supposedly impenetrable rime.
Under he went. Submerged. Taken by the black lough. Its surface was otherwise completely lifeless, with not a single indication of him re-emerging and, what’s worse, nobody had seen it happen.
A moment passed before Icrick came waddling back, grumbling about the leprechaun.
“It’s always something! Khrum. Let’s get moving,” he groaned, but Khrum wasn’t there.
“K-Khrum?” he asked, peering about.
William came walking up behind him, asking, “Where’d he go? Off hiding or something?”
Suddenly, Icrick noticed the tiny void which the leprechaun had fallen through, and it was slowly freezing over again.
“Oh, no!” he gasped.
“What’s wrong?!” asked William, glancing about.
“Look! There’s a hole. He must have fallen in. That stupid lout. Oh, what are we going to do?”
Before he could say another word, they heard a faint thumping noise from below. Quickly, William ran onto the bridge and gazed down, only to see the little fellow on the wrong side of the ice, pummelling it with the sides of his fists. He then disappeared back into the gloom.
“Aw, this isn’t good! I told him to be careful!” said the boy, in a clutter. “Icrick! Quick! Give me your fishing rod thing before this hole seals up!”
“What?! Why? Whatever are you going to do with it?” asked the Grogoch in a dither, hesitantly handing William the Wayrod.
Lowering the line carefully into the hole, the lad said, “What do you think? I’m going to try and fish him out! Khrum, can you hear me? I’m sending in a line. Grab it if you can.”
Gaining no response, he could but wait. He waited, and waited, and waited some more; with every single second adding to his concern for poor Khrum’s wellbeing. But there was no sign of a bite. Then, all of a sudden, before all hope could be completely abandoned, the reel started into a violent spin. It even started to smoulder.
“What the—?” the lad cried, when the rod flew from his grip, right below the surface of the lake.
“Oh, Jaynie!” moaned Icrick, slapping his forehead. “We needed that. It was important.”
Removing his satchel, his cloak, and his pendent, William lobbed them at Icrick, and said, “Here! Mind these.”
“Why? What are you going to do now?” cried the Grogoch, taking William’s things.
“We can’t just leave him there. We have to help him,” said William.
“But how? What if you can’t find him? It’s a deep lake...probably with a current.”
“This imp, Knitt; if I come across her first, do you think she’ll help me find him?” asked William, rolling up his sleeves and stepping over the rail. “Providing what’s been said about us being able to breathe down there is true, o’ course.”
“Well, I presume so,” Icrick said in a panic. “But it’s bumping into her that’s the trouble!”
“Icrick...if I don’t come back out...I expect you to come in after both of us,” William said, leaping in feet first, not even giving the traumatized Grogoch a chance to retort.
As he plunged through the icy surface, William had a firm hold of his nose, lest a rush of bubbles might tear up through his brain. As he sank and bobbed up, he came to notice that the water was actually fairly tepid. At first he couldn’t see much, other than the blue murkiness which blinded him from seeing all else, but more and more became visible to him the further down he went, which was lucky enough for William. At least now he wasn’t swimming blindly, and there was lesser chance of him paddling headfirst into some strange hole and getting trapped.
Soon his vision began to adapt, and he could recognise the coarse boulders of coral manifesting before him, yet there was no sign of his leprechaun friend. With a hopeful plea, he so proceeded on his hunt.
Vast quantities of those reefs encumbered that lake, all draped in rags of flowing seaweed, swaying dreamily to the hands of the current. Rich aquatic flora also flourished throughout, covering much of the area at hand. Some of these included green ulva, red porphyra, grasses with churning strands, carrageen moss, devil’s apron, gulfweed, seaweed with eyes and periwinkles, while many different types of creatures resided amongst it all. Starfish, hermit crab, king crab, iridescent waving eels, thorny sea urchins, stingrays, otters, and even squids of unnerving proportions. Thankfully, they all minded their own business, and didn’t pay much heed to the strange boy who was lurking about in their watery home.
Just beyond these aquatic wonderments, a crater emerged. It was like a monstrous marine valley, teeming with amazing underwater waterfalls, vales, and monumental teeth of rigid stone. It was all so very beautiful, but extremely preternatural, thus adding even more astonishment to that which Lythiann itself had already granted.
Amongst the algae, coral, and weeds of below were large schools of funny-looking fish with scaly stripes of silver and green. Some even had sea-grass upon their crowns, like hair. They sometimes swam close to William, only to disperse to different hideouts any time they caught his attention. But whenever he went back about his dealings, they’d surely return to investigate him further.
Far, far into the gloom, he could just about see the lakebed through deep, sandy clouds; disturbances from startled watery things. Once it settled, he could tell that this strange, new place carried on for miles into the dark of the navy deep. It looked so much more enormous in the depths than it did from the outside. It was huge. Almost like another universe.
As young Muldoon continued on by the rocks, even more things came to light. Up ahead he noticed more fish, who appeared solitary and were very big, with snowy beards, dull teeth, and four eyes each. Slowly they travelled westward, dragging themselve
s along like ancient wandering nomads, both noble and wise. Hordes of blinking eyes peeped out at him from dark places, and tentacles danced along as he swished by. To William’s left was a crowd of glowing jellyfish who shimmered and shined with all the colours of a rainbow, and they moved with much grace and elegance. But they could travel with as much grace as they liked, as far as William was concerned, for he was stung by a jellyfish once, and there was no way that he was going to go through that pain again, so he kept clear of them as they danced on by.
He wished to go deeper, to further his search, but he was running short on breath. And, to be honest, he wasn’t all that keen on the idea of inhaling water either, even with the expectance of being able to breathe, so he thought it best to keep going to the surface for oxygen instead, until he finally came across Knitt. Or better yet, until he came across Khrum himself.
He turned and made his way back towards the surface, with bubbles of air gushing from his nostrils. That icy void wasn’t far away, and he had a sufficient amount of air to see him comfortably to it. Just then, the situation took a terrifying turn, and he was abruptly cut off.
A titanic silhouette came sailing across his path from above, blocking off his route to the surface. Out of sheer horror, William started to panic. And as you already know, it isn’t very wise to panic underwater and, even more so, when you’re running low on oxygen. The cosmic shape moved like a sailing ship before William’s eyes. Had he acted quickly enough, the boy might have managed to slip past it on either side, as there was plenty of room. But the fact of the matter was, he was scared out of his wits, and completely taken by surprise.
Oh, that beastly shadow seemed never-ending. Its body was curved elliptically, clad in barnacles, and it draped much of the lakebed in darkness. William tried his utmost to conserve his air, only he couldn’t hold his lungs any longer. He had to get oxygen.
With nothing else for it, he pulled himself in behind a craggy rock and tried his best to stay hidden. By then, his air supply was drastically thin. So clenching his eyelids, he released his breath, counted to three...then hesitated till five...and grudgingly heaved in a fresh wind, all the time thinking, “You’d better be right about this, Khrum!”
At first it felt like he had gotten his head dunked into a barrel of water and was sucking in massive, excessive gulps. Then, sure enough, his lungs started to swell with salty liquid. Upon this atypical act, the boy writhed and bellowed like a trout on a hook. He couldn’t help it. I’ll wager you would be hysterical too, if you were stuck beneath a giant sea monster with your lungs full of water.
It was a horrifying sensation to begin with. And yet, after that initial breath, he discovered that he was suspended in the midst of the lough like a speck of plankton within the prying fingers of protruding sunlight, and he was breathing just fine. He could also see much clearer, too, having suddenly developed some form of transparent film which shielded his eyes from irritation. Glancing up, he noticed how the mysterious beast had nearly passed him by, with its giant tailfin dragging from left to right with mighty thrusts. What’s more, to William’s relief, the monster hadn’t seen him (or else took no notice), and he soon felt that it was safe again to explore the vast, new world beneath the waves in search of his friend.
After a few more breaths and a brief scan about, he pressed the soles of his feet against the boulder’s edge, then launched himself out into the open water. As soon as he did, that same school of fish returned in covert pursuit, though William didn’t even begin to bother about them. Away he drifted into the deepest blue depths, yet, for some reason, his usual swimming technique wasn’t comfortable at all. He was kicking, and thrashing, and flicking, and paddling, but it just seemed far too awkward, and harshly painful to the chest. With each attempt as useless as the next, he stopped for a moment and thought, “What’s going on here? Why can’t I swim?” He then attempted a doggy-paddle. That wouldn’t work. Then he tried swimming on his back. That was just as unpleasant. Eventually he conceded, and dragged himself back onto a ledge where he could sit and deliberate it.
He was truly distraught, when all of a sudden that same congregation of fish gathered all around him in a great sphere. It was as though he was trapped in a fishy bubble and there they all were, staring and blinking, with tiny bubbles ooping from their mouths.
“Trouble?” asked a crowd of infantile voices, like that of a toddler’s classroom.
Meanwhile, the fish just kept watching William with that same simple expression.
“Um...y-yes!” he answered, surprised that he could talk underwater, too. “I can’t seem to swim all that well all of a sudden. I mean...I was fine when I first came in. But as soon as I took a deep breath, I haven’t been able to swim with any comfort!”
“Lungs!” answered the fish.
Puzzled, he asked, “Lungs? What do you mean?”
“Water in your lungs! It restricts you!” they answered.
“So, what you’re saying is, now that my lungs are full o’ water, I have to figure out a new way to swim?”
“Water restricts you. Restricts your arms and legs,” said the fish, while some moved in closer.
“Right...I can safely say I don’t know what you’re on about,” William said. “Listen, I’ve lost my friend. He’s a leprechaun. He fell through the ice a few minutes ago, and I came in to try and find him. Have you seen a leprechaun in your travels?”
In response, they merely blinked, wondering about how odd this boy looked in his peculiar garments.
He then asked, “How about Knitt? Do you know where I can find her?”
Still, they just floated and stared, refusing to recognise his query.
“Um...what say I just stay here? I’ll be fine, now that I can breathe...and you can go and tell Knitt that I want to talk to her. Would you mind?” William asked, growing extremely tense and uncomfortable.
But the fish remained suspended in a motionless sequence of blinks and bubbles. They did nothing other than gaze, as if pondering, with William gawping back at them in the same silly way, albeit he was unaware he was doing so.
“So, by the way you’re not saying anything, I’m guessing you don’t really like that idea?” he asked, becoming altogether bewildered about how he was going to get out of this predicament.
Then, out of the blue, there popped a noise.
“Knitt!” it said, with a sharp squeak.
Then along came another, “Knitt,” and it was followed by another three.
“Knitt! Knitt! Knitt!”
Before William could tell which fish was saying it, there was already another twenty of them behind him at it when, eventually, all of them were doing it.
“Knitt! Knitt! Knitt! Knitt!”
He presumed them to be calling for Knitt, but of course he couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Knitt! Knitt! Knitt!” they chanted, on and on.
Getting a bit of a pain in his head, William said, “Yeah-yeah, that’s who I’m after.”
He was just about to plug his fingers in his ears, when they suddenly silenced, and scattered into different parts of the lake.
“Wait!” he called out. “I wasn’t going to hurt you. I was just blocking my ears. Wait! I need your help! Don’t leave.”
During his plea, a thundering shade floated beneath the ledge, and as loud as a subterranean foghorn, it let out a deafening boom from its blowhole. Out came a great rush of bubbles, sending William off into a spin.
Can you guess what it was? That’s right, it was that sentinel again. The same beast that was sailing above him earlier. It didn’t look like it wanted to cause William any harm, mind. He just happened to be in its way. In any case, the giant fish merely drifted by again and carried on with its patrol, not caring the slightest if William was hurt or not. But, thankfully, he was okay. For, during his spin, he was flung back into a bunker of sea-sponges and algae. A very prosperous landing. Having said that, young William had also landed the left-hand side of his bum on a wicked old
crab and got pinched for his troubles. Upon that warning, the crab then click-clacked off grumpily to the underside of a leaning rock, where he vanished.
“That was far too close for comfort!” sighed William, scratching his behind.
Unbeknown to him, the colourful fish had returned, and were staring at him from behind the spongy bunker.
“Knitt!” peeped one.
It immediately nabbed William off guard, making him shudder into a swivel.
“Oh, you lot again!” he scowled. “Why don’t you flip off and annoy somebody else for a change? I’m done with you. I’ll find Khrum myself.”
Brushing off a few stubborn seashells, he was about to be on his way, when a, “Me Knitt!” suddenly held his attention.
“Wait...what did you say?”
“Me Knitt,” said one, and sure enough, they were all at it.
“Me Knitt! Me Knitt! Me Knitt! Me Knitt!”
Pining for the slight probability of success, William’s voice took charge and he commanded imperially above all others.
“PLEASE...BE...QUIET!” he yelled, and they all went back to gawking.
“What do you mean by, Me Knitt? Are you the one I’m looking for? Are you Knitt?”
Suddenly, the fish broke from their spherical formation, thereby gathering themselves tightly in together and into a gradual spin. The top ones started to swim around the bottom ones, whilst the bottom ones roiled about the top ones. The left ones swished around the right ones and vice versa, while the middle ones swam around all of them at once. It kept going like this until they were all whizzing and whirling around, and around, and around, with rapid speed and a haze of foaming bubbles. Squinting his eyes, William raised his arm fearfully, waiting for something to pop. I’m happy to say, nothing either explosive or implosive occurred. But there was a transformation nonetheless.
The Other of One - Book One: The Lythiann Chronicles Page 17