Secrets of the Dragon Tomb (17 page)

“Edward!” Putty shouted.

Putty and Olivia were halfway down the passage, but above them, a crab had appeared. It levered itself around the doorjamb. I pulled myself out of the kitchen and swung the paddle. The crab dropped into the passage. The end of my paddle smacked it back.

I stumbled across the passage and took up position in the doorway. Freddie was still a dozen yards away, his progress slowed almost to a standstill by the crabs that had gotten behind him. A couple more were heading for the open doorway. I braced myself and swept the paddle at them. The first was flicked cleanly away, but the second clamped its claws around the end of the paddle. I smacked the paddle into the floor, trying to dislodge it.

“Freddie!” I shouted. “Come on!”

He glanced back at me, then spun and leaped over the crabs behind him. I swung my paddle again, crab still attached, clearing the way.

Freddie landed awkwardly and stumbled. He crashed down on one knee. The crabs scuttled toward him. He pushed himself up, wincing, but the crabs had cut him off once again. I couldn't reach them from where I was.

I flung my paddle. It spun into the crabs and smacked them out of the way. Freddie lunged for the door, and I pulled him through.

I slammed the door. It wouldn't latch. It had swung too violently and twisted its hinges, and now it wouldn't close. I hung on to the handle as the crabs scraped at the far side. Their little claws dug around the edge of the door, cutting away the thick wood.

Freddie closed his hand over mine.

“Go,” he said. “I'll hold it.” He reached into his sleeve and pulled out the map. “Take this. Keep it safe. If I don't make it, take the map to the British-Martian Intelligence Service and tell them what happened. We can't let Sir Titus get away with this. Go!”

“We're not going to leave you,” I said.

Freddie met my eyes. “You'll do what you have to, to keep the others safe. Understand?”

Reluctantly, I nodded. Freddie took the door handle.

“Follow us,” I said. “We can hold them at the next door.”

The girls had reached the end of the passage and were waiting by the outside door.

“If I can,” Freddie said.

I released my hold and let myself slip down the steeply sloping passage. Putty and Olivia caught me. I glanced back at Freddie. He was holding grimly on to the door. Glittering crab claws reached through, snapping at him.

The outside walkway was illuminated by the glow of gas lamps. Hanging on the ropes above the railings were the silvery bodies of crabs. One sliced through a rope as I watched. The rope parted with a vicious twang. The crab was thrown into the night.

Carefully, I lowered Putty and Olivia onto the walkway. I dropped through and braced myself against the railing.

“Now!” I called to Freddie.

He released his hold on the dining room door and threw himself down the passage. Behind him, the door burst open, and crabs surged through.

Freddie's headlong momentum was too great. He couldn't stop himself. He reached for the door frame, but he was traveling too fast. I seized his arm, and his weight threw us both over the railing, into the night.

We grabbed the rail as we went over. It creaked as we swung over the black void. Then Olivia hauled us back, and Putty slammed the door shut behind us. Crabs rattled against it.

Shakily, I got to my feet.

The engines were still whining desperately, but the airship had developed a spin, and the captain didn't seem to be able to control it. We didn't have long. I took the lead again, and we rushed along the walkway, clutching at the railing that was now nearly beneath us. Freddie brought up the rear, his walking stick ready to fend off any crabs that came too close.

Most of the lifeboats were gone, but one still hung beneath the rear of the airship, swinging wildly as the airship spun. We sprinted toward it.

From our left, a tide of silvery crabs came tripping and sliding down the walkway at us. They were like a wave ready to break over and engulf us.

Then Freddie was there. He leaped up beside us, sweeping at them with his walking stick, dancing around them, flicking them over the railings into the dark. I dragged Putty and Olivia to the lifeboat. They dropped through the hatch, and I followed. Freddie was still fighting the crabs, but they were all around him. He spun and kicked and slashed, but he couldn't get free.

One rope popped, then another and another and another. Now they didn't need the crabs to cut them. The weight of the gondola on the remaining ropes was too great. The fibers parted. Like a baby slipping from a torn sling, the gondola slid slowly from its cradle of ropes.

“Go!” Freddie shouted. “Get out of here!”

Crabs scuttled toward us. There was no way he could pass them.

I swung into the lifeboat, throwing the end of the rope ladder out, and slamming the hatch behind us.

“No!” Olivia screamed.

“Strap yourselves in,” I ordered.

I pushed myself into the pilot's chair and pulled the release lever. Our lifeboat dropped from the airship. Angry pterodactyls swooped away from our falling craft. Through the viewing window above our heads, I saw the great airship gondola fall, finally free of the balloon that held it. Then, with a snap, the vast canvas wings unfurled on either side of the lifeboat and we were sailing away through the dark night air. Behind us, the gondola plummeted to the ground.

 

14

Slime

“No!” Olivia shrieked again.

I clenched my fists on the steering levers, feeling the wooden body of the lifeboat shudder through my palms.

Freddie was dead. We'd left him behind and now he was dead. He'd been trapped in the gondola when it had crashed thousands of feet to the ground.

My throat felt so tight I couldn't speak or even sob. He'd sacrificed himself so that we could get away. I hadn't trusted him. I'd thought he only cared about his dragon tomb, and now …

I was holding the steering levers too tight. The lifeboat fought against me as it tried to lower us gently to the ground, but I couldn't make myself loosen my hold. If I did, I might just fall to bits. I was having a hard time focusing through the viewport, looking for obstacles. My eyes kept clouding.

“We have to go back.” In the dim fluorescence of the emergency lamp, Olivia had straightened in her seat. She gripped Putty's hand so tight her knuckles turned white. Her hair was a mess, spilling and jutting from her hairpins. Her eyes looked wild.

“Back?” I said.

“Freddie might have … He might have…” Her voice trailed away. Her head dipped and she stared into her lap.

“He couldn't,” I said, trying not to choke. “There's no way he could have survived that drop.”

“We have to know!” Olivia said.

I didn't have the strength to argue. I pulled on the left-hand lever, and the lifeboat slipped into a wide curve. Now that we were low enough, the light from Mars's moons and the stars showed the vague shape of the land. I saw the outlines of hills and a steep, sharp valley, but that was all. It was impossible to make out details on the ground. I couldn't see any sign of the fallen airship. I didn't even know where to look.

I swooped around again, but it was hopeless.

“There's nothing,” I said.

I should've gone back and helped Freddie. I should've gotten him free of the crabs and to the lifeboat before the gondola fell. But I hadn't. I'd just left him. My hands started to shake, and the lifeboat shuddered.

I forced my hands to be steady and tried not to listen to Olivia crying and Putty trying to comfort her while fighting to hold back her own tears.

Putty had worshipped Freddie. Suddenly, I was furious at him. He'd made Olivia fall in love with him and Putty think of him as a hero. Then he'd gotten himself killed and left them like this. The stupid idiot! I wanted to punch him, but I couldn't. He was lying dead in the wreckage of the airship somewhere in the Martian wilderness. I realized I was crying.

I pulled on the left lever again, dipping us down. I just wanted to get out of this horrible, suffocating lifeboat. I couldn't see the other lifeboats in the darkness, and I didn't care. I didn't want to meet any of the other survivors. I didn't want to talk to anyone.

The ground rushed toward us. I caught glimpses of strange night birds flapping clumsily from the trees, like black rags thrown in the wind. All I could see below was a mess of treetops, bushes, and sharp rises and falls that told of uneven ground beneath.

I tugged the lifeboat around to the right, sweeping across the darkened terrain. It dropped away beneath us. For a few seconds, we were soaring through the air again on wide canvas wings. Then the ground reared up in front of us. I tugged both levers back. The wings dipped, scooped air, lifted us, slowed us.

And we dropped.

“Hold on!” I said.

Something snatched at the left wing. Our lifeboat jerked around. The other wing lost its lift. The lifeboat tipped to the right and we crunched to a halt. If we hadn't been strapped in, we would have been thrown against the wall. Blood spun dizzyingly in my head.

From the left wing came a ripping sound. Olivia screamed. The lifeboat fell.

Twigs and branches scratched across the hull. We crashed into something, shaking me in my seat. My teeth rattled, and I bit the inside of my cheek.

We thumped down, then finally the lifeboat came to a rest again, swaying.

Cautiously, I released my straps. We hadn't reached the ground yet.

“Don't move,” I said. “I don't know how stable this is.” The lifeboat might fall at any moment.

I tested a step. The lifeboat rocked slightly, but it held firm.

“We need to climb out,” I whispered. “One at a time. We need to get onto a tree and make our way down.”

Olivia's face was streaked with tears and she was shivering. Putty didn't look much better.

“You go first, Putty,” I said. “When you're safely out, help Livvy. I'll come after.”

Putty levered herself from her seat and reached for the square hatch above her. The lifeboat swung in the branches. I kept my teeth clenched and held my breath.

She pushed at the hatch. It didn't move. “It's stuck.”

“Harder,” I said.

Putty put both hands beneath the hatch and shoved. The lifeboat rocked, but the hatch didn't move. I took a step to help. The movement sent the lifeboat sliding forward. I froze in place. The lifeboat came to a stop.

“Try again,” I said.

Putty put her shoulder to it and, with a yell, heaved. The hatch popped open, banging back on its hinges. A shower of leaves fell around her. She shook her head free.

“I can see the stars,” Putty said. “We're up near the canopy.”

“Can you get out?”

She pushed her head through the hatchway. A moment later, she withdrew it. “We're up against the trunk of a tree. If we're careful, we should be able to get at it. But the branches are pretty thin up here.”

I nodded. “Try it.”

Putty pulled herself up and disappeared through the hatch. I heard her light footsteps on the roof of the lifeboat. I met Olivia's eyes and held them as we heard Putty reach the edge. My heart was thumping. Then Putty's weight lifted from the lifeboat.

My little sister didn't weigh much, but she was heavy enough to shift the lifeboat again. Branches scraped beneath the floor as the lifeboat juddered down another couple of feet.

“Your turn,” I told Livvy. “Putty will help you off the lifeboat, but first you'll have to climb out yourself.”

And what would happen when Olivia, who weighed more than Putty, stepped off?

“Don't look,” she hissed as she reached up to the hatch.

I blinked. “What?”

“Don't look. You'll see my undergarments.”

“Oh, good grief,” I muttered.

I heard Livvy give an unladylike grunt, then flop heavily onto the roof of the lifeboat. Branches creaked in protest. I bit my lip and held on to the back of my chair. Livvy's dress brushed gently over the lifeboat as she crawled across the planks.

“You'll have to stand,” I heard Putty say. “I can't reach you there.”

The lifeboat must have slipped away from the tree trunk. I heard Olivia's feet scrape, and felt a jolt as she jumped.

Putty shouted, “Got you!” Then the lifeboat tipped. The balance shifted and it slipped. I crossed the lifeboat in four quick steps, leaped up to grab the edges of the open hatchway, and pulled myself out.

A branch snapped. The lifeboat fell beneath me.

I was too far from the tree trunk. I just had time to see the crisscrossing branches around me before I threw myself outward, arms stretched.

My fingertips caught on bark and slipped. The branch slid away from me. Then another came up from below, whipping back from the falling lifeboat, and I grabbed hold.

I heard a sickening crunch as the lifeboat hit the ground, but I was safe. Eventually, I even opened my eyes.