by Bryan Davis
Elyssa nudged his body, sending her own body into Jason’s arms. Tibalt grabbed the rope, and, with a loud scream, shot upward.
Holding Elyssa in one arm, Jason flailed with the other, but the rope stayed out of reach. Soon, it vanished in the darkness.
Jason cringed. A bone-crushing collision surely awaited, but nothing happened. He looked at Elyssa, now barely visible, though they were nearly nose to nose. “The bottomless pit?” he asked as the wind stripped away his voice.
“Impossible!” she yelled. “It’s a myth!”
Soon, a wet sensation brushed Jason’s cheek. It felt warm and slippery. “What is it?” he asked.
“Some kind of foam, like soap bubbles.”
Moment by moment the foam grew thicker, slowing their plummet. Seconds later, they splashed feet first into water and knifed into its depths. The cold shock nearly paralyzing him, Jason fought as a strong horizontal current swept them into the icy water’s flow. Keeping a grip on Elyssa, Jason thrust his body upward until his head broke the surface.
He sucked in a double lungful of air and pulled Elyssa until she, too, could breathe. With complete darkness all around and nothing beneath his feet to allow for a foothold, he paddled with his free arm, swimming perpendicular to the current. “There has to be a bank to this river somewhere!” he shouted.
“Make sure we stay together!” Elyssa’s voice was broken by her shivers and clattering teeth. As they held hands, they swam in sync, using their clenched hands as a single arm.
Jason’s fingers struck rock, scraping his knuckles. “I’m at a wall. Just float.” He and Elyssa stopped swimming and rode the current again, Jason letting his palm rub the sheer face as they floated by. “We can’t climb out!”
“We’ll just have to see where it carries us. It can’t go on forever.”
Jason nodded, though Elyssa wouldn’t be able to see him. She was right, of course, but the water was too cold; they would soon die of hypothermia. Which would last longer, the river or their heat reserves?
As if again guessing his thoughts, Elyssa wrapped her arms and legs around Jason’s body, chest to chest, and pressed her cheek against his. “You keep us afloat,” she whispered in his ear. “We’ll share body heat.”
Now using both arms, he paddled to keep their heads above water. With her hanging on, shifting their combined center of gravity, the effort was as awkward as swimming with a bag of melons tied to his chest. Yet, as he worked, heat flowed from his elbows to his knees, especially at the points of contact between him and Elyssa. The river slowly warmed, and now only his fingers and toes stayed cold, but how long could he keep this up? He couldn’t fight the current forever.
She seemed to read his mind. “You can do it, Jason. I believe in you. You are strong. Your arms are like bands of steel.”
On and on, she whispered, repeating the same phrases again and again. Yet one phrase penetrated more deeply than the others. I believe in you.
He closed his eyes and concentrated. His arms burned. Every muscle ached. But he couldn’t give up. He had to get her to safety. Elyssa believed in him, and that was all that mattered.
Keeping their heads above the surface, he paddled on. At times, when the flow eased, he rested his arms, using only his legs to stay afloat. Even then, however, darkness wrapped around them like a crushing serpent, and with its tightening coils, a new wave of bitter cold penetrated his saturated clothes and seeped into his bones, frigid, numbing, stiffening. Soon even the weakest current would be too much to fight.
Elyssa’s voice sharpened. “Jason! I sense light. Maybe we’ll come out into the open air. Just a little while longer.”
“I’m…I’m trying.” Jason demanded new strength from his tortured arms but to no avail. Spasms wrenched his biceps, sending new pain from his knotting muscles. Water rose past his nostrils and splashed into his eyes.
Elyssa pulled his arms around her torso and shouted, “Just hang on!”
As his joints locked in place, she battled the strengthening current. Jason rested his chin on her shoulder, blinking away the splashes. The surrounding blackness faded. Walls came into view, dark and rocky.
“I see a shoreline!” Elyssa called. “Keep hanging on!”
With his joints feeling like rusted hinges, Jason wanted to say, “I don’t have much choice,” but even breathing seemed too much of a chore. Just clinging to her sapped his energy.
Seconds later, new weight dragged his body down. As the ambient light strengthened, he took in the scene. Elyssa was hauling him onto a pebbly riverbank, staggering backwards with his arms draped over her shoulders.
She pried his arms away and set him down gently on his side. He looked up at her, barely able to breathe as he flexed his fingers and tried to unlock his joints. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“I think so.” Dripping from head to toe, she set her fists on her hips and looked around. “We’re in a cave of some kind.” Her voice seemed weak, frail, almost inaudible as water rushed along nearby. “Be glad I didn’t have to do mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. The cabin had no toothbrush.”
Jason pushed against the ground and rose to his knees. His arm still cramped but not as badly as before. He reached out with his stronger arm, and Elyssa helped him the rest of the way up.
As he swiped gravelly dirt from his pants, he scanned the chamber. A gray ceiling loomed overhead with a few stalactites just out of reach, each one dripping cloudy water at the rate of a slow heartbeat. Three brackets hung on a side wall, two holding antique swords and scabbards and the other empty.
Behind him, the river flowed swiftly past a sheer rock wall. Dim radiance emanated from somewhere, but there seemed to be no hole to the outside world.
He looked at the river—dark and deep with islands of white foam speeding by. “I hope Tibalt was able to hang on to the rope.”
“And Randall was able to pull him up,” Elyssa said. “Though staying in that poisoned field might be worse than coming down here.”
Jason turned to the wall on the opposite side, a rock face about ten steps away. “Any idea where the light’s coming from?”
“Maybe.” Elyssa strode to the wall and laid a palm on the uneven gray stone. “It’s brighter over here.”
He pushed his stiff legs into a hobbled walk and joined her. “I can’t tell the difference.”
As she ran her hand along the damp surface, her eyes following the touch, she whispered, “I can.”
“So…” He kicked a pebble toward the river. “Did you plan that all along? I mean, holding on to me so you could keep your strength?”
Her fingers probed a series of dark circular recesses. “It seemed like the only way.”
“How did you know we would get out before you ran out of strength, too?”
She turned and stared at him as if he had asked how she knew water was wet. “It’s a feeling, nothing more, nothing less.”
“Well, you were right, as usual.” He tapped a finger against his head. “I just wish I could know ahead of time what you have cooking up there.”
She offered a tired smile. “You’d better get used to it. I’m not going to explain everything I do. There just isn’t time.”
His legs still heavy, Jason shuffled closer to the wall and squinted at the recesses—eight finger-sized holes in a horizontal row at waist level, with a gap between the first four and the second four, too dark to investigate by sight. “What are those?”
“I’m not sure. I sense energy coming from within, like there’s a powerful force on the other side.”
“And this wall is emanating light from that source?” She shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.” “I doubt that.” Jason pushed his left index finger slowly into the leftmost hole. A slight buzz tickled his skin, but he kept sliding up to the base knuckle until his fingertip touched solid rock, wet and far tinglier. A click sounded, loud enough to echo, and the light in the chamber grew brighter.
Elyssa pushed a finger into the rightmost h
ole, but nothing happened. “Strange.”
“Do you feel something tickly at the back?” She nodded. “But maybe this one doesn’t work.” “I have a hunch.” After withdrawing his index finger, he slid his left pinky in, but it wasn’t long enough to reach the barrier at the back. He turned his hand palm up, switched back to his index finger, and inserted it again. Then, he slid his middle finger into the second hole, his ring finger into the third, and so on until he had filled all eight holes. Each hole was the perfect depth. Every time a fingertip touched the end of its hole, another click sounded. Pinpoints of light appeared on the wall, the hundreds of colors creating a mosaic from floor to ceiling—two roaring dragons facing the center where Jason stood, each one with clawed hands open below the holes, as if carrying them. Lettering across the top of the design read, Where only courageous hearts may brave the river’s flow.
Red light emanated around Jason’s fingers and pulsed in time with his heartbeat, making his skin tingle more than ever. Now the chamber looked like a courtyard of rainbows. Bright colors rippled on every surface. Even the river seemed tinted with glowing dye. Warm air breezed in from hidden vents, further drying their hair and clothes.
“Okay…” Elyssa said slowly, “this is interesting.”
Jason basked in the summery breeze. “I guess there’s no doubt. We found the gateway.”
“True, but how do we open—”
The ground rocked, nearly toppling Elyssa. As a crackling rumble sounded all around, Jason hardened his stance but kept his fingers in place. “Are you all right?”
“I think so.” She grasped his sleeve and rode out the trembling ground. “If this is a quake, we’re in big trouble.”
The sound of rushing water diminished. The river’s current eased to a stop and began flowing in the opposite direction, slower than before but definitely in reverse. The trembling suddenly ended, but the lights continued to wash the walls with vibrant colors, and the river stayed on its backwards course.
Elyssa’s eyes widened. “Okay, that’s even more interesting.”
“Have a look around,” Jason said. “Maybe the light will reveal something that will open the gateway.”
As Elyssa searched the chamber, Jason twisted his body to watch. She looked at the river, scanned the floor, and studied each wall before returning to the holes.
“Nothing obvious,” she said. “Just bare rock, pebbles, and sand. They’re beautiful in this light, but I didn’t see anything useful.”
As he kept his hands in place, a gentle throbbing made him glance at his chest. The litmus finger pulsed harder than usual, as if filling the holes had energized it as well. Tibalt had said something about the finger, once absorbed, enabling someone to open the gateway, but since the skin overtop was red and not yet blue, maybe the absorption hadn’t been completed yet. The insertion was energizing the portal but not opening it.
Using his eyes, he gestured toward the red skin. “Do you think the holes worked for me and not for you because of the litmus finger? It seems more active now.”
“Of course. That’s got to be it.” She studied the wall around Jason’s hands. Her brow scrunched, and her head tilted to the side. “Wait just a minute.”
She slid between Jason and the wall, her back against his chest, and brushed dirt away from a spot just above and between his hands. As grit fell away, a glassy surface appeared at eye level, round and dark, about the size of a human head. She set her face close to the glass and peered in.
“See anything?”
“No, but I feel something. A presence. Dark. Mysterious.” She swiveled her body and looked at him face-to-face. “Dangerous.”
As their eyes met, a sense of warmth flooded his body. For the first time since they escaped from the dungeon, she seemed unsure, even frightened. And since she stood so close, her shivering body sent trembles into his own. Whatever this feeling was, it was powerful.
He cleared his throat and forced a tone of confidence into his voice. “Let me have a look. Maybe the litmus finger will make it show me something it wouldn’t show you.”
Elyssa’s warm smile returned. “Good idea.” She slid out of the way and crossed her arms. “Be sure to let me know what you feel as well as what you see.”
Keeping his fingers in place, Jason edged closer and looked into the dark glass. Inside, only vague shadows appeared—black ghosts on a charcoal canopy. Too indistinct to decipher, they moved like curtains swaying in the breeze. “Just dark shapes.”
“And how do you feel?”
He concentrated on the scene. Soon, images came to mind—his brother Frederick as he spoke through the Courier’s tube, Tibalt reciting his strange poetry, and the litmus finger glowing yellow within Prescott’s chest as he lay in bed, not suspecting that a murderer would soon take both the finger and his life.
“I think…” He licked his lips, now dry in the warm flow. There had to be a connection between Frederick, Tibalt, and the finger. Prescott had the finger, but he obviously never got to the gateway. Yet Frederick didn’t have it, and he made it to the other world. There had to be a key that didn’t require the litmus finger, a secret code of some kind, something that only certain people, trusted confidantes of Uriel Blackstone, would know.
“You think what?” Elyssa prompted.
“You mentioned it before. A genetic key.”
She set a finger on her chin. “That’s what Prescott’s documents said. But whose genetics?”
“The son of the man who locked the gateway?”
“Tibalt?”
“Sure.” Jason withdrew his fingers. The pinpoints of light blinked out, dimming the area. As his eyes adjusted, another rumble shook the chamber. The sound of rushing water returned. When the shaking eased, Jason looked at the river. It had resumed its earlier direction, from left to right, and its rate of flow.
Elyssa marched in place, as if testing the stability of the ground. “How could one man have put this entire foundation on a balancing pin?”
“Let’s concentrate on opening the gateway,” Jason said. “We can figure out the rest later.”
Elyssa crossed her arms again, but not in a confrontational way. She seemed perplexed, curious. “Okay. What’s your genetics theory?”
Jason raised a finger. “If Frederick knew about the key, he could have easily taken some hair from Tibalt. As Prescott’s bodyguard, Adrian could have granted Frederick access to the dungeon.”
She pointed at him. “And the litmus finger itself is a clue that you have to use your fingers in this wall.”
Jason nudged her with an elbow. “You’re way ahead of me again.”
“No need to waste time,” Elyssa said, grinning. “It does seem clear that Uriel wanted no one to come through the gateway without his son being involved. Tibalt knew a lot about the finger—Uriel must have taught Tibalt about the secrets before he died. But that was decades ago, and now Tibalt doesn’t remember everything.”
“How are we going to get him down here?” Jason asked. “Swimming upstream is impossible enough, but climbing back up that hole would be worse. We don’t even know if the rope comes down that far.”
She glanced between the river and the wall. “But maybe I could swim to the pit we fell into if the current changed direction.”
Jason nodded at the holes in the wall. “You mean…”
“Exactly. Put those enhanced fingers of yours back in there and reverse the river.” She pointed at the current.
“The flow wasn’t so turbulent going the other direction, and it will be a lot easier knowing there’s an end.”
“Okay. I can’t argue with that, but what about scaling the walls of that pit? I can’t even guess how far we fell.”
“No one would hang a rope without making sure it went all the way down. Obviously Uriel planned this thing out pretty well.”
Jason let out a sigh. “I guess we have no choice.”
Elyssa wiggled her fingers and smiled. “Get to work, litmus boy!”
> Smiling back at her, he turned to the wall. “Just remember I’m down here. Don’t let those flowers drain your brain.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Oh, don’t be silly. I would forget my own mother before I’d forget you.” She blew him a kiss, gently, tenderly. “I will be back, Jason Masters. I promise.”
The motion brought back the memory of an eight-year-old girl performing the same offering. This time, stringy, dripping hair replaced the girlish pigtails, and a mature feminine form replaced the preadolescent frame, but the rest was exactly the same—eyes of love, a spirit of virtue, and a sister’s promise.
Jason caught the kiss and applied it to his cheek. “I know you’ll be back. I’ll be waiting.” He reinserted his fingers. The colorful dual-dragon design sparkled once again, and, after another brief quake, the river reversed its course.
Elyssa waded in. “It’s warmer now,” she said, pointing toward the river’s new source. “Maybe there’s some kind of geothermal heat in that direction. That would account for both the warm air and the water.”
“Great. At least you won’t freeze to death going that way.”
“Just don’t pull your fingers out. If the river switches while I’m in the water, I doubt I could survive.” She began swimming with the flow and disappeared from sight.
Jason turned again to the wall and stared at the embedded dark glass. Ovular in shape, it seemed to be a black egg hovering above his hands. Now it made sense. The dragons weren’t carrying the finger holes; they were supporting this floating egg-shaped object, as if ready to catch it.
Now, with his hands in place and his skin tingling, he felt as if he, too, were supporting the egg. It seemed that the buzz of energy created a force field that kept the dark sphere aloft, and if he withdrew his fingers it would crash to the ground.
As he waited, he studied the details in the stunning, colorful display. Each dragon had a pair of outstretched wings, each wing at least as long as its body. Their eyes flashed red. Fire shot from their mouths, orange light shimmering across the flames, making them appear to move. Smoke spewed out from the fire’s orange pinpoints, a mist so real it seemed to expand.