SWNOVELS Chapter Chapter Twenty Three
The dragon thumped against the floor, great rasps of breath gurgling in its throat, blood spilling from its wounds. Trapped in the tight tunnels beyond, Avarat’s soldiers were heaving the dying beast towards the edge of the abyss. Thin mist drifted back across the floor, laying a blanket where Petraya and Kinga had vanished and Joe pressed himself against the cave wall, alone and afraid. He pulled himself along the rock, clawing at it with his fingers, driven by fear, his legs buckling beneath him. His breathing was ragged and sweat ran down his face, blurring his vision. He doubted he could escape, but he had to try, inching his way along tunnel after tunnel, heart thumping so loudly he thought it might guide his pursuers to him. His legs shifted like stone and with each step his vision swam. He clung to the walls, letting the sparkling crystals guide him on like beacons, not knowing how far he had come or how long it would take Avarat’s men to find him. A roar shattered the silence, closer than he had hoped, and the thunder of hurrying feet shook the tunnels. Worse still, the tell-tale flapping of wet wings echoed along the walls and another sound; the clicking and tapping of claws on stone.
He came to a parting, one path curling down into darkness and mist, and another leading up to a broad tunnel lit by clumps of bright Majia. The downward route would be easier, but the darkness chilled him, and he wondered if the Majia in the rising tunnel was a sign. Was it guiding him through the maze; leading him to his father? He struggled up the rise, feet slipping through the mist, when a loud cracking noise brought him to a halt. Suddenly the wall ahead exploded, showering rock, and from the dust long hairy legs felt into the tunnel, talons tapping on the stone. They had found a way to break through the walls! The spider mount crept forward, turning its eyes to Joe, and reared up, screeching. He spun around, legs driven by terror and staggered back down the tunnel. The tapping closed in behind but he didn’t look round, knowing his heart would freeze if he saw the beast bearing down on him, its legs reaching out. He stumbled, sliding down the second pathway, praying the way ahead would be lit by crystals when he turned the corner, but the tunnel remained dark and he fell forward with a cry, rolling to a stop in the icy mist. A thick shadow fell over him, and he scrambled back, the spider almost on him. It leapt and he screamed, flattening himself to the floor, the beast flying over him, screeching. Instead of a wall it found only mist and disappeared from sight, legs twitching, breaking apart the white clouds to reveal another fatal drop. He lay on a thin ledge, inches from the abyss, and only his fall stopped him from plunging to his death.
He groaned, realising he was trapped. The only path led back to the tunnels; back to Avarat’s horde. Dragging himself to his feet, he stumbled to the rising tunnel, refusing to give in, and pulled himself towards the light. Suddenly the white mists parted. They had found him.
With a roar the horde spilled towards him, at its head an enormous black spider, bigger than any he had seen, driven on by a drooling rider whose excited cries echoed into the dark. The beast’s black eyes fixed on Joe, fangs twitching and bristling hairs silhouetted in the white glare of the mist at its back.
Suddenly the roof shattered, raining rock and dust, and thin dark shapes dropped to the ground. They looked human, though incredibly thin, and moved with fluid grace. The spider reared up, legs pawing the air and the strange creatures leapt forward, hands wielding shards of crystal, driving it back along the tunnel, pressing against the soldiers behind.
“Here,” said a small, weak voice.
A pale hairless face looked down at him from a hollow in the rock, reaching out a thin grey hand and he grabbed it. This was his last chance. Whatever these creatures were, their plans for him had to be better than Avarat’s soldiers’. Other hands reached down, gripping his wrists, hauling him into a long thin tunnel lit by crystals and barely wide enough for him to fit inside. More creatures packed the tight space, watching him with wide white eyes. They were lipless, with two small holes where their noses should be, like the gills of a fish.
“My name is Tollik,” said the creature who offered him its hand, “Your father waits for you. We must hurry.”
Tollik and his creatures passed Joe through the maze of crowded tunnels like a parcel, sometimes stopping to press their ears to the ground before heading off into the labyrinth, muttering quietly. They heard the roar of their pursuers behind and beneath them and many times changed direction seconds before the screech of a dragon rattled the walls and great sheets of flame exploded where they had been From the tunnels came the sound of rock collapsing and the spine chilling tap of claws. They hurried on, passing Joe quickly forward, circling the stone walls to pass overhead and begin the chain again. Avarat’s soldiers poured after them, larger beasts smashing their thick heads through the thin network of tunnels and Joe snapped his eyes shut, fighting off waves of nausea, spinning in their cold hands, ever faster; seconds ahead of their enemies.
A huge explosion shook the tunnels and Tollik pulled them to a stop, eyes wide with alarm. Far off they heard the heavy thunder of collapsing rock and suddenly the tunnel around them splintered into a web of cracked rock. The floor shattered.
Joe snapped open his eyes, spinning through mist, everything whirling in a blur. His body plunged into water, the cold shocking him back to his senses. The impact knocked the breath from his body and he thrashed in a panic, the Ice Queen’s cold face leering down at him. For a second small hooks zipped through the water and from the darkness came the laughter of her pig-like guards. Finally he broke the surface, gasping in air, searching for signs of their hooks, but the guards were nowhere to be seen and their laughter faded in his ears.
They had fallen into a vast lake in the centre of a wide cavern and he fought to control his panic, his pale rescuers bursting from the water, searching for signs of their pursuers. More sections of roof shattered, plunging soldiers and beasts into the lake, and dozens of fat spiders scrambled from dark holes, scuttling across the walls. Tollik grabbed Joe’s arm, pulling him towards the lake’s edge,
“We are close,” he said. They headed for the caverns largest exit, a towering arch of rock, glinting with Majia and thick with mist. Suddenly the lake ahead exploded, churning up froth, and a dark shape rose above them, streaming water. Bony arms reached out and Joe shuddered at its familiar scream.
A Wytch, and behind it another rising from the water. On every side Avarat’s soldiers closed in, forcing the pale creatures to draw in around Joe, shivering with cold or fear. They were trapped. The Wytch loomed over them and its rotten fingers snatched for Joe like a claw…
… and exploded in a cloud of spinning bone.
The Wytch lurched back, crashing through the water, screaming, and its enormous body tore apart. Smouldering chunks of flesh splashed into the lake and the air was littered with scraps of flaming rags. A bright white energy flashed around him, burning his eyes, cutting past Joe and his pale companions, biting into their enemies. A second Wytch collapsed in flames, crashing into the water with a horrible scream. Along the cavern walls terrified spiders tried to escape back to the hollows of the tunnels but the energy found them, splitting them into blazing twitching pieces which thumped into the water with a hiss. More bodies thrashed in agony, churning foam across the lake’s surface.
Joe shielded his eyes, following the energy back to its source. At the chamber’s edge, atop a large rock, her hands stretched out and streaming energy, stood Kinga. Her eyes were fierce and her lips moved quickly, controlling the Majia. Behind her stood Petraya, leaning in and whispering in her ear.
Finally the attack ended. Floating bodies smoked in the water but none of Joe’s rescuers were harmed. Kinga sagged and Petraya caught her, gently lowering her to the ground. Tollik took Joe’s arm,
“Friends?” he said. Joe nodded,
“Friends.”
The creatures helped Joe from the water, carrying him to caverns large archway. Kinga was shaking and dripping wet, her hair plastered across her face, but Joe hugged her anyway and for once she didn’t pull away. She even managed to smile,
“Look good,” she said. From above came the clamour of feet; the remainder of Avarat’s army closing in fast. Joe wondered if Maven and Reece were among them.
“Close,” Tollik said looking back, “Come.”
They fled through the arch into another cavern, larger than any they had passed through the mines. In its centre the floor fell away, leaving only a thin needle of rock spanning a deep gulf. Clouds of mist drifted through the air above and below them, and every surface was split by coloured crystals, Majia crackling inside each, painting colour across the rock. The cavern roof soared above; an immense dome flecked with drifting clouds; and below the true depth of the gorge was hidden in a shifting sea of mist.
A roar beyond the archway pressed them forward. Petraya helped Kinga, still pale from using her Majia, and Joe doubted she could help them again. Without her power they wouldn’t survive another attack.
Avarat’s forces appeared through the arch, Wytches and spiders, soldiers and beasts, spilling out across the rock. At their head came the stranger from the Wastelands, and behind him, Maven and Reece, bound and pushed along by guards. The stranger looked furious.
“Stop them!” he screamed. Tollik dragged Joe forward towards the bridge and on the other side he could make out figures in the dark. A tall man watched them intently, pacing to and fro, and behind him stood a fierce looking woman, arms folded and scowling. For a second he imagined Kinga grown up. Petraya shook him,
“King Caldor,” she said. Joe stared at the man and pushed forward with renewed strength,
“My dad,” he said.
The King waited in the mines for days. The pale creatures; who Jiila named the ‘Dead-Miners’, looked after him well enough, but when news came of Joe’s arrival in the mines they ordered him to stay behind. It made sense; they knew the tunnels well and he would only slow them down, but he hated to wait. They planned to lead Joe back to the cavern, across the span of the Great Gorge, collapsing it behind them if they feared pursuit. You must stay safe, they warned him, do not cross the bridge. It was an easy promise to make but now, staring across the bridge at his son, he struggled to hold himself back. Thankfully the boy was not alone, and others were helping him to cross. The bridge was dangerously thin and every time Joe staggered, the King moved forward, longing to rush out and carry him to safety. He was so close now and a deep guilt burned in the King’s heart at how much the boy had grown. All his arguments for sending him away seemed empty words now and his throat tightened at the thought of the years they had lost. Jiila placed a hand on his shoulder and he dropped his head, knowing she was right to hold him back.
“Is that your boy?” she said. To his surprise the King found he had tears in his eyes,
“Yes.” The hand withdrew from his shoulder.
“Then I need you no longer,” Jiila said and drove her dagger through his heart.