The Dragonstone (68 page)

And the black waters of the pool churned and seethed.

Now Arin stepped to the edge of the pool and peered into the moil, waiting. And still the waters welled up, the whole of the flow to race outward toward the sea along the channel at hand.

Nothing.

“Perhaps there is no Kraken whatsoever in the pool,” hissed Ferret.

Egil only groaned in response.

Now Arin turned and stepped back to the niche containing the chest, and while watching the pool she reached up and in toward the silver…

…and touched the charmed metal.

Fwoosh!
A great flowing heave exploded upward in the water, huge ropy tentacles bursting forth.

Waves billowed outward toward the walls.

Run!
shouted Egil and Ferret together—

—but Arin had already turned to flee, the Dylvana bolting down the path toward the exit a full furlong away, the Great Maelstrom spinning out in the ocean beyond.

And behind her sped a monster, tentacles flowing before it, grasping and snatching at her fleeing form.

“Run! Run!” shouted Egil, as the waves of the creature’s emergence crashed into the walls to fling water up in sheeting gouts of spray. And when he could see again, the light of the rope torch had disappeared into the darkness of the channel passage beyond. And Egil whispered, “Run, my love. Oh, Adon, run!”

*   *   *

Arin ran with all of her fleetness, a hurtling wedge of ebon water rushing down the channel behind, a massive flowing heave in the darkness, with great writhing tentacles reaching out after. On Arin sped, hurdling small boulders, leaping over stones, flying before a hideous creature that would rend her in twain should it manage to grasp her.

On came the great wave, a foaming black wake churning behind. And now one massive tentacle reached out to clutch her, but she dodged away. The water roiled with the creature’s anger, and it snatched up a great rock and smashed it down at her—
T
HDD
!
—flying stone chips pelting her in the back as she ran.

Thdd!…Thdd!…
There came the sound of a massive pounding, as if a monstrous maul hammered. “Oh, Adon, Adon, what is amiss?” cried Egil, as the strike and beat echoed back through the cavern.

“Now, Egil!” cried Ferret. “While the creature is drawn away. Now is the time to get the treasure, ere the monster returns.”

“What?” cried Egil.

“I said, we must move now! Else her effort is like to be in vain,” Ferret spat. “Now let’s go.”

thdd!…thdd!…
The echoes of the hammering diminished, as if becoming more distant.

Egil took a deep breath and then expelled it altogether. He grunted a reply, but what he said, she did not hear. With rage in his face he looked at the dark water and across at the chest, then said, “Wait, here, Ferai, until I call you.”

She nodded and handed him a twist of rope, one end dipped in oil and lit. He snatched up a lantern and took the torch and stalked out into the cavern.

Ferret watched as he moved toward the chest, one eye on the man, another on the roiling black pool.

At last Egil reached the niche. He set down his lantern and took his axe in hand, and then, as he had seen Arin do, he reached up and touched the silver metal.

Again the pool exploded upward, tentacles boiling forth.

*   *   *

T
HDD
!…T
HDD
!…T
HDD
!…
With a great rock maul pounding just inches behind her, Arin fled down the rocky way toward the exit, her feet barely touching stone as she ran. Now she could see the gleam of water ahead and light streaming inward underneath. And just as a huge tentacle swept toward her, she came to the end of the path and made a running dive down into the powerful current sweeping outward.

*   *   *

T
HDD
!…Thdd!…thdd!…
Ferret listened to diminishing echoes as Egil fled down the path and away, a monster in pursuit.

Two Krakens. Two. What a hideous trap. And now I am left all alone.

With a rope torch in one hand and the last lantern in the other Ferai stepped out into the cavern.

thdd…thdd…

As the hammering diminished in the distance, she quickly ran along the path to arrive at the silver chest.
Now she set aside her lantern and wiped her sweating palms on her leathers. Then gritting her teeth, she took a deep breath and stared out at the dark roiling waters…and reached out and touched the charmed chest.

S
tand ready!” cried Aiko. “Peril comes.”

To one side on the ledge, Burel and Delon took up the lines to the rope webbing floating in the water along the outflow from the cavern. Opposite the underwater crevice, Aiko held the third line, and used it to keep the rope mesh positioned correctly in the current below. At the Ryodoan’s feet a coiled line lay, ready to cast should Dara Arin miss the webbing altogether.

And loud grew the cry of her silent red tiger as peril came rushing headlong.

Of a sudden, driven by the mighty current, like a shot from a sling the Dara came hurtling through and upward, something huge and dark and deadly speeding after. She nearly missed the floating mesh, but at the very last moment managed to grab on with one hand.

“Now!”
shouted Aiko, letting go as Burel and Delon hauled with all their might. Sputtering and gasping for air, Arin grabbed hold with her free hand just as she was jerked sideways in the water toward the two men high on the ledge above. Driven onward by the massive flow, the Kraken hurtled straight past the Dara and beyond, its tentacles clutching nought but water where she had been. Even so, its great dark form could be seen turning ’neath the water for another run at its prey.

“Hurry!” shrieked Aiko, the Ryodoan now moving along the ledge, her swords in hand, though when she had drawn them she did not know.

Now Delon and Burel hauled the Dara upward, each man straining to the uttermost, though it was Burel with his great strength carrying most of the burden.

Up she was drawn and up, up and away from the water, a massive dark form speeding toward the cliff below.

Now a huge tentacle whipped out of the brine and snatched at her leg, but Arin jerked aside, and then she was beyond the creature’s reach.

Huge tentacles lashed the water in fury and beat against the wall as the monstrous Kraken below clutched upward, only to fall inches short. Again the monster whipped its tentacles in rage, churning the brine into foam.

At last Burel and Delon hauled Arin up to the level of the ledge, and Delon reached out and helped her to stand, while Burel cast the mesh aside.

“Lord Adon,” cried Delon, shouting with stress though the danger was past, “but that was close.”

Arin stood trembling uncontrollably, though whether it was from cold or fear or from the near brush with death, none could tell. And Burel stepped forward and took her in his wide embrace and murmured, “Be at ease, Dara Arin, for Ilsitt has seen you safe.”

But then Aiko cocked her head in puzzlement and looked at the enraged Kraken below, then peered about. “What is it, my love?” asked Burel, still holding the Dylvana in comfort.

“More peril comes,” Aiko said. “Whence, I cannot say.”

But in that very moment, out from the underwater crevice came hurtling another form, something huge and hideous rushing after.

’Twas Egil and another Kraken, but this time there was no waiting rope net.

Out they hurtled and out, impelled by the massive flow, Egil struggling to the surface, gasping for air, only to be wrenched under by a massive tentacle grasping his leg.

Upward he clawed, his efforts entirely futile, his strength minuscule compared to the monster’s. No longer holding an axe, he drew his dagger and desperately hacked at the rope arm, all to no avail, for the edge made no mark whatsoever on the tough hide.

And now with its victim clutched in its underwater grasp, the creature began to swim back toward the entrance, Egil’s agonized lungs burning to breathe, his chest heaving spasmodically, his whole being screaming for air.

But there was none to be had, and in the last moments, his mind spinning down into darkness, unable to withstand the demands of his need, Egil drew in great lungfuls of water.

And in that moment in the grasp of a Kraken, Egil began to drown.

E
gil!”
screamed Arin, her eyes wide with horror.
“Egil!”

She tried to push out from Burel’s embrace, but he held her tightly, saying, “Dara, Dara, there’s nothing we can do.”

Delon kicked off his boots and whipped a rope about his waist and made ready to dive, but Aiko stopped him, saying, “Burel is right, there is nothing we can do.”

And they watched as the great creature, Egil in its grasp, swam underwater in silence toward the entrance to the cavern within, the other Kraken turning to join the first. And the only sound to be heard was the quiet weeping of Arin and the far-off rumble of the Great Maelstrom.

Yet suddenly the hush was shattered:

RRRAAAAWWW!
From above there echoed a mighty roar, and plummeting down the face of the precipice thundered Raudhrskal, his wings folded back in a stoop. Down he plunged and down, down the sheer fall of stone, his mouth wide and spewing flame, a stream of fire pouring down into the water as he came.

And lo! the Krakens turned and raced toward the place of the fiery blast.

Whoom!
Raudhrskal slammed into the water, an enormous wave billowing up and rolling outward, the surge to hammer into the precipice, brine whelming over those clinging to the ledge above.

And still the Krakens raced toward the Drake, as if rivals of one another, each one vying to get there first. And in their wake, in their wake—

“Egil!” shrieked Arin, pointing downward.

There in the water below, the current slowly drawing him into the grasp of the long turn of the sea spiraling toward the Great Maelstrom rumbling afar, just under the surface and abandoned by the Krakens drifted Egil, lifeless, without motion of his own.

“Anchor me,” barked Delon, handing Aiko the other end of the line fixed ’round his waist. And then the bard dove from the high ledge and toward the water below, a flurry of rope uncoiling behind. Cleanly he clove down into the brine, a great stream of silvery bubbles showering upward in his wake. And he turned underwater to swim toward the drifting man.

“Stand ready, Burel,” called Aiko, handing the end of the line to him. “As soon as he’s lashed onto Egil, we’ll haul him up.”

Moments later Delon reached Egil and, grasping him, swam to the surface. Now the bard undid the line and fixed it about the limp man, and then shouted, “Draw him in!” and hung on as Burel and Aiko pulled both to the cliffside below.

Delon clambered up the stone, free-climbing, and he called, “Don’t worry about me, I’m all right…. But Egil is dead!”

Arin gasped, but Aiko said, “Draw him up, regardless, Burel. There may yet be a chance.”

Now Burel alone hauled the limp body upward, the big man grunting with the strain, Aiko taking up the slack behind.

As Egil was lifted onto the ledge, Arin gritted her teeth. “Roll him onto his stomach,” she said, then straddled Egil’s waist and pressed down hard on his back.

Water gushed out from Egil’s lungs, and again Arin pressed. More water flowed. And once more the Dylvana mashed down. This time only a bare trickle leaked outward, and Arin flopped him over onto his back and brushed his wet hair away from his face, so deathly pale and still. Then she pinched his nose shut and pressed her mouth to his and forced her breath into him, then turned her head and listened as the air escaped.

Once more she breathed into him; once more she turned aside.

And again…

And again…

And he did not respond…

And again…

And once more…

And still he lay cold…

And again she breathed into him…

And again…

And she hammered on his chest and cried, “Oh, Egil, my Egil, breathe, beloved, breathe…”

And again she sealed his lips with hers and breathed into him…

Altogether eight times…

And of a sudden Egil coughed once, twice, and began breathing on his own—hacking and gagging and spitting up water, but breathing on his own.

Arin covered her face with her hands and burst into wrenching tears.

*   *   *

And in the cold currents of the Boreal Sea, entwined in the tentacles of two fervent Krakens, all three ablaze with lust, Raudhrskal was drawn under and toward the churning whirl of the Great Maelstrom afar.

I
t was late in the day when Delon reached the rim of the precipice and climbed up over the edge. As soon as he gained the verge, he turned and helped Arin coming after. Then Aiko scrambled onto the lip, following gasping Egil, the Fjordlander spent, weakened by his ordeal, exhausted by the long climb after. He stood bent over, his hands on his knees, and panted for air, now and again coughing, while Delon hauled up the retrieved lines. Last to arrive was Burel.

Their gazes swept across the great ledge. Of Raudhrskal there was no sign, nor was there any sign of Ferret. Near the back of the shelf and behind a boulder they found Alos lying unconscious among several leather bottles, the old man hugging his saddlebags and sleeping in his own vomit.

Delon looked about, worry in his eyes, then glanced at Egil. “Where is Ferai?”

Egil shook his head. “I am sorry, Delon, but she may not have survived. The chest was trapped by a charm. Touching it brought the Krakens.”

The blood drained from Delon’s face.

“There is another possibility,” said Aiko.

With gathering hope in his eyes, Delon looked at her.

The Ryodoan shrugged. “She may be long gone from here, the Dragonstone in her possession.”

Delon shook his head. “Oh, no. Not my Ferai. She wouldn’t have done that. She wouldn’t have stolen the stone and fled.”