Brave Story (50 page)

Returning his sword to the scabbard at his waist, Wataru got down on his knees and stuck his right hand out to the water’s surface. It was quite cold, and felt like silk. He stuck his hand in, and got the strong impression that he was touching something very holy.

The source of the white light was definitely coming from the bottom of the lake. Maybe he could find it if he dove in. But if he went into cold water like that without warming up first, he’d probably cramp up and sink to his watery grave.

As he sat pondering his next move, he realized something. He wasn’t just watching the clear, shining water. He was being watched.

By what?

Just beneath the surface of the water, a giant eyeball appeared—the size of a basketball—and it stared at Wataru, unblinking. The pupil was jet black. He could even see red veins running through the white of the eye.

Thus commenced a strange staring contest that went on for several seconds. Wataru was entranced and stood there motionless. Then, suddenly, he came to his senses and pulled his hand from the water.

Too late!
Something came rushing out of the water and grabbed his wrist. It was the white arm, the one that had beckoned him into the chapel ruins. Water ran in rivulets down its fingers, and glimmering droplets sprayed as it broke the surface. From this close, Wataru could see that it was indeed a slender feminine arm, yet its strength was incredible. Wataru struggled to free himself from that pale grasp. All the while, the huge single eye continued to stare at him.

“Let me go!” he shouted, but the arm tugged even harder until it felt like his shoulder would pop. Suddenly, something grabbed onto his leg. Wataru twisted and looked down to see a black mummified arm coming out of the water.

The arm that took my lantern!
Wataru noticed that this arm was a left arm. White and black, the two arms formed a pair. Together, they held Wataru firmly in place.

“I said let me go!” Wataru yelled. He tried kicking the black arm off his leg, but lost his balance and fell with a thump on his behind. The arms pulled even harder, dragging him into the water directly in view of the giant eye’s unblinking gaze.

“Help me!” Wataru’s scream echoed off the high vaulted ceiling of the cavern.

Help me…help me…help me.
His words mocked him as they echoed off the walls.

As he struggled, Wataru reached for his sword with his left hand. Just as his fingers brushed against the hilt, the black hand yanked his leg with ferocious strength. In the same instant, the white hand released him. Wataru fell on his back and was dragged into the water all the way up to his waist.

Oh no!

The white hand appeared in the air above him. Fluttering above his face like some evil bird, it grabbed his shirt collar and dragged him down, deeper into the water.

His left hand found his sword, and he drew it from its scabbard. He swung without thinking, without bothering to aim. Once again, the sword moved of its own will, cutting an arc through the air with dreadful accuracy, slicing the palm of the white hand as it hung twitching like a spider over Wataru’s face.

A horrible scream assaulted Wataru’s eardrums. It was so loud he feared he might never hear another sound again.

The cut palm flapped open, revealing pink, bloodless flesh. The wound looked almost like a mouth trying to talk—a mouth with no tongue. Wataru didn’t linger on the sight, but turned his sword toward the black arm clutching his ankle.

The surface of the water began to stir. A disturbance deep in the lake sent waves rolling toward the shore. Then the water rose into a column high enough to touch the ceiling.

The water came crashing down on his head like a waterfall, soaking him to the bone. But as a result, his arms and legs were now free. Standing quickly and jumping to the shore, he steadied his grip on his sword. A giant black form emerged from the water, silhouetted against the white light streaming from the center of the lake. It looked like a monk in long flowing robes—save that it was enormous.

It turned until it was facing directly toward Wataru. Then its eye opened, a single giant eye—the very one he had seen beneath the water—shining from the center of its head.

“What are you?” Wataru shouted. “Are those skeletons the remains of the ones you killed?”

The looming black form said nothing as its eye moved from side to side. Then Wataru spotted the two arms, right and left, flying through the air until they were next to the giant creature. Wataru half expected them to attach themselves to its body.

But that didn’t happen. First the arms waved in the air, then, together, they formed fists so tight Wataru could see the tendons bulging on the backs of their hands.

What’s going on?

Then, suddenly, the hands opened, and like a magician producing a rose out of thin air, something came pouring out of the palms—scores of needlethin objects. White needles from the white hand, black from the black.

They were coming for him. In the split-second before he turned to run, Wataru saw that those countless needles were actually hands—swarms of tiny hands. They came together like a school of piranha descending upon their prey.

Throwing up his arms to cover his head, Wataru dashed along the water’s edge, the tiny hands in hungry pursuit. The noise as they cut through the air was like the thrumming of a thousand insect wings.

Wataru ducked and lashed out with his sword at the mass of hands. If he didn’t find a way out of here soon, they would rip him to shreds. They were each only a few inches long, but their fingertips were cruelly sharp. They scratched at Wataru’s skin, poked at his eyes, and wormed their way up and under his clothing.

I can’t stop running,
Wataru thought. And he ran.

A great roar rose up from behind him. The cyclops was standing at the water’s edge. Without a doubt, Wataru knew that this was the creature that was staring at him earlier.

The thing didn’t even seem to have a mouth, so Wataru had no idea where its voice was coming from. But one thing was clear: it was laughing.
It’s having fun!

The monstrosity was still howling with mirth as it slid to the edge of the chamber. It pulled back the sleeves of its robe to reveal arms that looked like two giant snakes—ending not with fingers but with fins. Then the creature lifted its arms high into the air and brought them down on the surface of the lake at incredible speed.

There was a great splash, and water fell in a torrent around Wataru. He couldn’t see. His feet slipped.
If I fall now…

“Hraaah!”

A yell rang through the room, and an instant later, something long and sharp cut straight through the air of the chamber and impaled itself in the beast’s left arm. The monster howled again, this time in pain.

“Wataru! You okay?”

Wataru looked up through the haze of miniature hands.
Kee Keema!
He was standing high on one of the rocky walls. Directly above him was Trone, a bundle of throwing spears over his shoulder, and above him was Kutz, kneeling on a rock shelf.

“Hang in there, we’re coming for you!” Kee Keema shouted, bounding down the rocks with surprising agility for his size. The black cyclops pulled the spear out of its arm, and heaved it back toward the waterkin. Kutz reacted quickly and knocked the spear to the ground with a crack of her whip. Trone threw a second spear, which successfully grazed the monster’s giant eye.

“Hah! We’ll cut you down to size!”

Kee Keema dashed up to Wataru, and covered him with his arms. He then swung his axe like a hammer thrower in the Olympics, and scattered the cloud of tiny attacking hands.

“H-how did you know where I was?” Wataru asked, dizzy with relief and excitement.

“You don’t think I can’t second-guess what you’re up to?” Kutz snapped. She jumped from her rocky perch, and knocking aside one of the creature’s giant fins, she did a flip in midair to land by the side of the lake. Without even looking, she sensed the floating white arm lurching through the air for her throat. A flick of her whip, and it was knocked aside.

“What is this thing? Something Cactus Vira was worshiping down here?”

“Or maybe it’s what Cactus Vira himself became,” Trone said, slowly moving into position, his third throwing spear aimed at the giant eye.

“Who cares? Let’s take it down,” Kutz spat, wrapping her whip around the black hand this time, flinging it against the wall. The arm made a distinct splat and fell to the ground limp as a discarded rag.

The edge of the lake was now littered with hands—victims of Wataru’s sword and Kee Keema’s axe. There were so many of them, in fact, that it was hard to walk without stepping on one. Kutz and Trone stood alert, facing the towering black creature by the side of the lake.

The creature’s eye, red and bloodshot, rolled back and forth. Then, with great effort, it blinked.

When the eye opened, the water of the lake began to stir. The monster’s robes fell from his body and into the water. Wataru and the others could do nothing but stand and stare.

Now totally exposed, the creature looked like something not quite man and not quite fish. Armor-like scales covered its torso, and giant fins protruded from its side.

With its good arm, the one-eyed giant tore the remains of the robe from its head, revealing two long horns. Wataru instantly thought of the image he had seen painted on the wall of the tunnel.

Then the skin beneath that great eye split into a hideous maw. The creature pursed its lips as though to whistle, puffed out its cheeks, and spat a great ball of fire.

“Look out!”

Trone and Kutz dodged to the side. The flaming balls smacked into the wall, sending rocks crumbling to the ground.
That thing exploded like a missile!
Wataru tried to run to help Kutz, but the shockwave knocked him off his feet.

The second fireball flew toward Kee Keema. He dodged just in the nick of time, shouting, “Yowch! That’s hot!” despite himself.

“Enough of this!” Trone roared, fixing his aim—when another fireball flew straight at him.

“Gah! What is this thing?”

As they ran, they did their best to avoid all the fireballs and falling rocks. The creature lunged at them, using its sharp fins as weapons. Kee Keema lifted his axe to block one, and the head of his weapon was sliced clean off. It was like fighting a flying guillotine.

Now on the defensive, the small team secured its position, and began fighting back. Robbed of his weapon, Kee Keema picked up chunks of rock and hurled them at the giant’s eye.

The creature’s weak point was obviously its eye. Wataru’s friends had realized this early on. Every one of their attacks had been aimed at that single unblinking sphere. Unfortunately, the creature triumphantly knocked aside every frontal attack they threw at him. Wataru, for his part, tried to distract the monster so his friends could score a decisive blow.

But the creature never looked at him. Its fins continued to lash out, often slicing through the air inches above Wataru’s head, but the eye never turned away. Instead, it remained fixed on the rocks at the edge of the lake—right where the Highlanders stood. Never once did it glance back toward the white light from the center of the lake.

Wataru recalled once more the painting he’d seen in the corridor. He also thought about the discarded lanterns and broken torches. Kee Keema, Kutz and Trone were not carrying lanterns. Doubtlessly, the black hand had confiscated whatever lights they brought with them.

Maybe it doesn’t like light?

It appeared at first as though the creature were protecting the white light at the bottom of the lake. That’s why it stood steadfast at the shoreline.
But what if it’s the other way around?
Maybe it
couldn’t
look at the light, it couldn’t stand it.

Right!

Wataru ran to the water’s edge and dove in. Lit by the white light, the lake’s water was incredibly clear. Despite this, the irregular depressions in the rock floor made it difficult to find just where the bottom was. Wataru kicked with all his strength, and once he had the creature behind him, he resurfaced.

The creature was facing the Highlanders, spitting out ball after ball of flame. Wataru was now directly behind the creature.
This has to be it,
he thought

The light.
The rocks near the bottom of the lake were practically glowing with it. Driven by some impulse he didn’t understand, he drew his sword. Then, of its own accord, the sword jerked to the right.
Okay, I guess I should swim over there.
Wataru kicked at the water and dove farther down.

He was coming to the end of his breath. Just a little farther…

Just then, the bottom of the lake came into view. There, in the middle of a small flat patch of rock, was a white gem about the size of a baseball. It was shining with an incredible light.

Wataru reached and grasped it with his empty hand. In his other hand, the Brave’s Sword shone, almost as if it were happy.

Wataru shot toward the surface. His lungs felt like they were ready to explode. The one-eyed creature roared, shaking the cavern with its thunderous voice. Quickly catching his breath, Wataru dove down again. This time he swam fearlessly to the front of the bellowing monster.