They partook of a breakfast of rice pudding with warm cloudberry preserves, a fruit similar to raspberries in shape, but orange-rose in color. To Zaria, the cloudberries were a first. The flavor was hard to describe. It was mild and sweet, almost honey-like. It reminded her of grape jelly, but instead of being made from red grapes, the flavor was more consistent with white grapes. Tasty.
“I love cloudberries,” Filip said, breaking the silence. “Did you make the preserves?”
“She did,” Hector replied, indicating Madam Brown. “She has a mean preserving charm up her sleeve. I got the cloudberries in Jerndor before we left. Madam Brown turned them into preserves, so they’d last the trip.”
“How do the dwarves have cloudberries? They live underground,” Geirr said.
“They trade with the Finnish giant tribe. The stall owner told me that Rubus the Golden leads the tribe and that he also trades with Petronella. Now, for the problem of how to get out of here. Aleks, are you sure you can’t sense a way out?”
He shook his head. “I can only sense three ways out of here, the way we came, the way that Olaf left, and the way Floki went. All dangerous.”
Hector rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Son, do you remember what Henok said about the palace?”
Hart dipped his head, staring his father in the eye and blinked. Hector nodded as if Hart had said something. “That’s what I thought. There’s a secret passageway out of here.”
“I don’t sense it,” Aleks said. “Where is it?”
Hector scratched his beard. “I don’t exactly know.”
“But you just said –” Geirr protested.
Hector waved at the grotto walls. “It is said that one of the old dwarf kings was very paranoid – he ordered a labyrinth of secret tunnels with an entrance in every room to be built and then killed the workers and their families when it was done.”
Zaria flinched. “That’s ghastly.”
Hector dipped his head. “Yes, but if true, it’s our best hope of getting out of here. Spread out everyone, let’s find that tunnel.”
They did just that, each of them going in a different direction. Christoffer and Geirr searched the corridors down which Floki and Olaf disappeared, tapping on stone walls. Aleks and Hector paced the upper story, knocking every few feet and checking behind long tattered tapestries.
Madam Brown packed everything up and tended to Hart, changing his bandages before joining them. Filip tested the bannister and stairs. But Zaria had a hunch that the secret passage was flooded, like the rest of the palace. She went down to where Vingar swam lazily.
She crouched on the last step and peered around the room. Her eyes scanned over the glowing minerals in the walls. Dark spaces, devoid of any kind of light, stood out like sore thumbs. Were they openings to other corridors like the one they swam through or were they the secret way out?
She slipped into the water. The water-wyvern got excited, and thinking she was there to play, splashed her, drenching her completely. She spat out a mouthful of water and wiped her face.
“Bad boy, Vingar,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “We’re trying to get out of here. This is no time for playing.”
He spat a mouthful of water at her, bared his teeth, and sunk below the surface in a sulk. Zaria dog-paddled over to the closest dark spot and touched the wall. The smoothed rock was cool to the touch and damp.
Vingar sidled closer to her, his baleful eyes peeking above the waterline. As she tried to test the wall for hollowness, he heckled her, his scritchy-scratchy sounds telling her she was an idiot. Zaria splashed him with water, which he ducked.
She took a deep breath and dived under, keeping a hand on the wall. She forced her eyes open and tried to see in the gloom. Below her by five feet was the top of a tunnel. This wall wasn’t their escape route.
Vingar darted by, the currents of his passing pulling Zaria around. She saw him like a dark shadow diving lower to the ground. A broken set of statues at the base of the staircase came into focus. The strange creatures were an amalgamation of different animals, similar to Vingar or Norwick. Were they another type of wyvern? She couldn’t be sure. She wanted to get a closer look.
A quick trip to the surface for air and Zaria was ready to look again. She took a deep gulp and then flung herself back under the water. Kicking vigorously, she aimed for Vingar and the statues. The head of one stared up at her, detached from its body. Its face was lizard-like, but with great tall horns, which reminded her of a goat. Its body, which stood sentinel on the stairwell, was covered in thorns and had a long whip-cord tail with a fluffy tip. It perched atop of four short bird legs with curled talons.
She pushed off the ground, using the momentum to reach the surface. Panting for air, she wiped her eyes. When she opened them, she saw Filip sit down on the steps and cross his arms over his knees.
“Did you find anything?” he called to her.
“A few broken statues at the base of the stairs,” she said, before elaborating with hand gestures. “Weird looking creatures with big horns. You?”
“Nothing,” he sighed. “Need help?”
“Couldn’t hurt,” she said, spitting out a mouthful of water. “See you down there.”
As she again sank to the floor, Filip sluiced through the water in a swan-dive. With bubbles streaming from his nose, he followed her down to the murky floor. His eyes got big at the sight of the odd statues. Zaria grinned at him and swam to the body, peering into its neck.
Letting out a shout of excitement and a big stream of bubbles, Zaria gestured at the broken head near Filip and then at the neck. She motioned for him to come to her. He kicked over and peered down. Inside the body was a mechanism. They kicked to the surface, babbling excitedly to each other.
“Is that what I think it is?” Zaria asked.
“It has to be!” Filip shouted, giving her a hug.
Vingar peered at them, snorted, and disappeared back underwater. Their elation drew the attention of the others. Hector reached them first and the rest soon followed.
“Did you find the secret passage?” Hector asked. “Is it underwater? We can’t leave Hart behind.”
Zaria sobered, realizing the problem. “He won’t be able to swim through it, will he? That’s why we can’t go back the way we came.”
“We haven’t opened it yet. The mechanism is inside this horned lizard-face statue,” Filip explained.
“A weather-wyvern,” Hector said, nodding. “The Vikings traded a couple pairs of them to the dwarves long ago in exchange for armor. They’re used to regulate the furnaces and forges. They like hot, arid temperatures. What about the statue?”
“The head is broken at the neck,” Zaria said. “I’m not sure how it opens, or what opens when it’s activated.”
“I’ll join you two,” Hector said, slipping off his antlered-cloak. “Maybe I can help.”
“Correction,” Geirr said, as muted bickerings heralded the imminent arrival of Olaf and Floki. “We’ll all help. We’ve got company coming.”
The boys all jumped into the water as Madam Brown helped Hart down the stairs. Hector looked at his son, hesitating. Hart nodded and he jumped after the boys. Zaria and Filip led the way to the ballroom floor. Hector used his flashlight to see into the neck of the statue. He pointed to the head.
Filip and Aleks picked it up and brought it to him. Hector guided them to place it on the statue. They let go and the head started to tilt forward. Hector shoved it into place and twisted it down into the neck. A groan echoed through the water and a flurry of tiny bubbles rippled out from the stairwell.
Then a sharp current sucked at them as the stairs began to move. Hector grabbed Geirr’s shirt collar and hauled him away as the stairs opened up like a hinged box. But instead of opening from the bottom, the stairs opened from the top, unbuckling from the landing at the midway point of the stairs. They slowly moved down, threatening to trap them all underwater.
Christoffer pushed Zaria out of the way and pushed hard
from the floor, bringing them both to the surface. Water drained into the newly opened space, rushing down the backside of the stairs, loud and angry. Vingar went whizzing by, hissing and spitting like mad, trying to avoid falling down again.
Hector was up on the landing, coaxing his son to get into the water before it drained away, making the descent more difficult for Hart. Madam Brown sat on his back, clutching him for dear life. She looked less willing to go down into the water than Hart did.
Filip, Aleks, and Geirr stood on different steps on the inside of the tunnel, braced against the wall as water rushed past their ankles. Vingar lost the battle and was sucked down the stairs into the tunnel with a howl, disappearing from view.
“We’d better hurry,” Aleks said, wiggling a finger in his ear, shaking out water. “Vingar’s wailing will bring Olaf and Floki running.”
And it was true. They could hear shouts in the distance. By now the water dipped below the inverted stairs. Zaria and Christoffer bumped against the edge, and quickly held onto the first stair to keep from slipping below the surface. Geirr climbed back up and reached out to give them a hand. Zaria grabbed it, and he swung her up. She caught the edge with her toe and scrambled over.
She stumbled for footing on the slick stairs, almost falling headlong down them. Aleks pushed her against the wall, where it was easier to gain her balance. Christoffer joined her a moment later, catching his breath and raking a hand through his hair, spiking it, and showering her with droplets of water.
“That was fun. What next?” he said cheekily.
Hector appeared with Hart on the stairs; his cloak once more sweeping around his shoulders. With a guiding hand on his flank, he took him down the stairs, speaking soothingly and unhurriedly. The shouts ringing down from above didn’t seem to bother him. Hart’s legs shook with the effort to carry both himself and Madam Brown. Zaria wanted to grab him and pull him down the rest of the way, if only that would help. He was still so weak from his exposure to the dwarvish chains.
“Where does the little princess think she be going?” shouted Olaf, skidding into view from the upper hallway.
“You don’t scare me,” yelled Zaria, raising a fist in defiance even as her stomach clenched with worry.
“Princess be lying,” Olaf said with a wicked laugh. “Because I be holding something you don’t.”
“You can’t hold anything over me anymore,” she denied fiercely. “We have Hart and the sword!”
“Floki, you useless, worthless pea-brain, you best be helping me to catch them,” snarled Olaf, as he raced along the upper balcony around toward the stairs. “We need that Hart!”
Zaria craned her neck to see where Olaf went, but her line of sight was blocked by the stair landing. Floki shambled into view in the upper hallway, huffing and puffing and wheezing – the overweight dwarf was not used to running. He adjusted his belt and hobbled after Olaf.
“You should have tied him up better,” complained Floki.
“Ha,” growled Olaf, thumping down the topside of the stairs, shaking dust down on them below. “What be I telling you last night? We should be moving him that’s what Olaf be telling the stupid princeling.”
“We have to hurry,” Aleks said again, racing down the tunnel’s stairs, Filip and Geirr right behind him.
Christoffer whisked Zaria down the stairs, despite her protesting. “Leave Hart to Hector,” he said. “We need to get moving.”
Zaria followed reluctantly, clinging to the wall as she half ran, half slipped down the stairs. Aleks caught her at the bottom. The hallway was lined floor to ceiling with the glowing purple crystals that shimmered and danced with every movement. It was like taking a psychedelic trip down a chocolate river, minus the chocolate.
The water was ankle-deep. Zaria’s shoes were unpleasantly soaked, and she bent to take them off. She’d be able to move better without their dead weight. Geirr copied her, carrying his shoes in his hands for later.
As she stood, Zaria noticed Aleks frantically searching the hallway for something. Filip looked with him. Zaria watched in confusion before Christoffer nudged her aside and began looking too.
“What are you looking for?” she asked.
“A way to close the tunnel off,” Aleks said.
“Yeah,” Filip said. “What’s the point of a secret exit without a way to keep intruders out of it?”
“Right,” she said, searching now, too. “Is there a statue?”
“I can’t see one,” said Christoffer, touching the walls. “Maybe there’s a trigger in the walls?”
A groaning noise echoed through the hallway. The children looked up and saw Hart standing on the last step. It glowed brightly beneath his hooves.
“I think Hart found it,” Hector said, his face tense as he frowned up the closing stairs behind him.
Olaf’s leering face dangled over the landing as the stairwell quickly closed back to its original placement. He was practically frothing at the mouth as he tried unsuccessfully to squeeze through the slim opening.
He called down, “You better be fast, Princess. It not be long before I be in there coming after you and your little friends. You not be escaping me.”
The tunnel ground shut, moaning and shivering into place, blocking the river-troll and shutting out the water. Zaria looked at the inverted stairs above them with relief, the tightness in her stomach falling away. Olaf didn’t have anything over her anymore. They had Hart and the sword, while he had nothing.
Hector took Hart in hand and walked him toward the others. “Let’s find that exit,” he said.
They sloshed through the water, following it as it swirled and eddied away from them. Each step they took lit up the tunnel, as the movement shimmered through the rock.
“This is trippy,” said Filip, touching the wall and watching the shockwaves go out from where his fingers rested.
“No lie,” agreed Christoffer, swiping at the walls, enjoying the results.
“Keep moving,” Hector said gruffly. “Olaf will tear apart the ballroom looking for the entrance down here.”
“And he’s a river-troll,” Zaria said, casting a worried glance over her shoulder. “So he’ll be searching the water soon enough.”
“Well, it’s easy enough to navigate,” Aleks joked. “We go this way,” he said, pointing straight ahead, which was indeed the only way to go except backwards.
“Do you think Vingar is okay?” asked Geirr. “Not that I care, you know, for something that would gladly eat us if it could, but he was howling in terror, as he came down the stairs.”
“I don’t hear him anymore,” Filip said, cocking his head to the side. “Do you think he’s knocked out?”
“We wouldn’t get that lucky,” Geirr replied. “He might be hurt, though.”
“As Aleks pointed out,” Hector said, ushering them through the tunnel. “There’s only one way to go. We’ll find him soon enough.”
Zaria and the others trudged forward, following the relentlessly straight tunnel. Its slope was so gradual that it wasn’t until Zaria’s ears popped that she realized how much lower they were than when they started.
Up ahead, Aleks and Christoffer were forging the way forward. Zaria’s eyes, so used to the constant shimmering effect of the tunnel, almost missed the dark spot ahead on the floor.
“Wait!” she called out, rushing desperately forward, hand outstretched, but it was too late.
As Aleks looked back at her, he walked over the dark space and fell through the floor. Christoffer, a step behind him, couldn’t stop his momentum, and he, too, plummeted below the water, like one of those movie-puddle tricks where the person steps into a small puddle only to be swallowed whole.
“Stay back,” Filip warned, even as Hector said, “It’s okay.”
“What do you mean it’s okay?” Zaria asked, reaching the dark space and peering into it. Water sucked away from her, trying to drag her into the bottomless depths. “I can’t see them anywhere.”
“It’s our
way out,” Hector said, indicating the rest of the tunnel ahead of the dark space. It was a dead end, although that was difficult to make out with all the glowing purple rocks. “This is the end of the line.”
A loud groan rumbled from behind them and the water trembled.
“And not a moment too soon,” Geirr said. “Olaf found the entrance to the tunnel.”
“What now?” asked Filip, crouching over the entrance next to Zaria.
“Now we jump,” Hector replied.
“Oh great,” Geirr complained. “I always wanted to jump into a bottomless pit.”
“It could be fun,” Zaria offered, although still skeptical herself. She didn’t like the idea of being trapped down there.
“On three,” Filip said, grabbing her hand. “One. Two. Three. Jump!”
With faith, the three of them leaped. Zaria took one last gulp of air and plummeted into the dark oblivion that waited for them.
Chapter Eight: Escape from Malmdor
Zaria careened off the metal walls, bashing this way and that. The experience reminded her of tumbling through the washing machine, but not as normal laundry, no – more as if she were that one odd shoe that somehow made its way inside.
She couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, and having lost hold of Filip’s hand in the onslaught – had no idea where anyone was. Geirr was groaning from somewhere. Whether he was behind her, or in front of her, she didn’t know. The sound reverberated in her eardrums, just like the water rushing past them from all sides.
When they tumbled out the other end, shrieking and yelling, the three of them landed in a shallow pool. Zaria kicked for the surface and took a deep breath, feeling her racing heart calm. She opened her eyes to find Vingar glaring at her.
His eyes said clearly what he thought about all this, which was something like, “Make me big or else, you magic-wielding maniac. If I was my normal size, this wouldn’t have happened.” Of course, she was just guessing, but his glare spoke volumes.
“Ugh. Will we never be dry again?” Geirr asked, standing and striding through the shallows to a set of semicircular stairs cut into the rock wall.
Zaria Fierce and the Dragon Keeper's Golden Shoes Page 8