The Dark Portal (The Gryphon Chronicles, Book 3) (5 page)

“
Of course not,” he lied.

“I can’t see,” Dani said. The girls were sitting behind him and Archie.

“Everyone hold on tight,” Derek warned from the back car, where he barely fit. His shoulders were as wide as the cart itself, and he had to bend his knees out at an awkward angle to wedge his long legs into the vehicle.

Ufudd hurried back and sprang up into the first cart, where the Gryphon waited.
“Here we go, then. Have you there in a trice!” He pulled a wooden handle and threw a metal switch that gave off sparks, and the cars started to roll down the tracks.

Jake’s hair started blowing around as the carts picked up speed.
The tunnel was lit with dim lanterns here and there along the way. They began to blur into a chain of staggered lights, a dizzying effect, as the carts began to whiz faster and faster along the tracks.

Around turns, down drops, over
bumps, they flew every which way, the girls shrieking now and then behind them. Jake was trying hard not to yell, too, as he was thrown around inside the crazy cart beside his cousin.

With Red’s tall, winged form
blocking the view in front of him, Jake’s disorientation grew. He couldn’t see where the tracks were taking them next. He hung on to the bar for dear life, trying not to scream.

He
lost that battle when they burst out of the tunnel and plunged down a nearly vertical drop into the great, open hollow of the mine beneath the mountain.

“Ahhhhhhh!”

Jake’s stomach lifted inside him as they fell through what felt like empty space, though the rails were still before them. Hair standing on end, he pressed with his feet against the wooden floor of the cart, his grip white-knuckled on the bar.

In the cart ahead,
little Ufudd was perfectly serene, driving his vehicle, while the Gryphon seemed to be enjoying every minute of the ride, his feathers fluttering with the wind.

If not for his
terror, Jake might have taken more notice of the vast working mine all around him.

Everywhere
, an intricate web-work of ladders, walkways, scaffolding, buckets on ropes, pulleys and supports, little tracks with more carts full of gold and precious stones, and little wooden footbridges spanned the yawning gulf. It was as busy as an underground city.

As their wee train
flattened out again at last after that nauseating drop, they zoomed through the dark underground canyon on a gentler downward spiral, circling down toward some yet-unseen destination.

Far
below them, meanwhile, deep in the heart of the mountain, Jake glimpsed the white-hot glow of the forges processing the gold, burning off the dross, shaping and refining it with blasts of pitiless heat.

Sixteen hundred degrees Fahrenheit,
to be exact, Archie had informed him earlier.

All the while, the whole mine reverberated with
the low, constant echo of a pounding rhythm, like distant giant drums, as rocks were crushed down to gravel size, then pulverized into dust to free the flecks of gold inside.

“Impressive operation,” Archie rema
rked as the carts began to slow.

Ufudd hauled on the brakes as they approached a large stone archway ahead: the entrance to the Atrium. Bright gold light shone from inside it, but they could not see the interior of the Atrium until the tracks had carried them under the archway.
Then the kids gasped at what they saw.

“Now that’s more lik
e it,” Jake breathed as the mining carts glided to a halt in the middle of the Atrium.

All four
sat motionless in the carts for a second, staring all around them. It was hard to say which was more of a wonder: the soaring, gold-plated dome above them; its walls, honeycombed with the entrances to countless tunnels, like the center chamber of a beehive, all lit up with pure, carved crystal chandeliers; or the hundreds of dwarves standing on a semi-circle of tiered bleachers, waiting to greet them.

Red pounced out
onto the platform, then prowled up the few wide steps to the Atrium. After him, Ufudd jumped out of his cart with a polite “Ahem!” to jar the others out of their daze.

“Let’s go, kids,” Derek ordered in a low tone, untangling himself from the back cart.

They got out, still wobbly from that wild ride, their hair askew. Jake’s legs felt rubbery beneath him as he climbed out onto the platform and followed Red up the broad, rounded steps.

The dwarves
on the bleachers craned their necks and peered over each other’s hats and shoulders, trying to get a look at them. Ufudd escorted them over to where five chairs waited for them, but Jake could not stop staring at the central feature of the Atrium: a life-sized, solid gold statue of a gryphon rearing up on his hind legs, wings spread, claws bared.

The wings were inlaid
with chips of ruby to resemble Red’s scarlet feathers. The statue’s sharp claws were of platinum, but Jake did not recognize the jewels that had been embedded in the gryphon statue’s eyes. Maybe diamonds?

“Sit, please,”
Ufudd invited them, gesturing toward the chairs. For Red, there was a round, tufted ottoman with purple velvet cushions like a throne.

As soon as they all took their places
, someone doused the lights.

“What’s going on?” Dani whispered, clutching Jake’s arm.

“How should I know?” he mumbled.

“Quiet!
” Derek ordered in a low tone.

Then they learned why
, as the dwarves welcomed them to their underground stronghold with a song.

Jake listened, enthralled by their deep, sonorous harmonies. He did not understand the words, for the lyrics were in Welsh, but the
melody was brave and stirring.

How could a choir of such small fellows produce
such a rich, powerful sound? He could feel the vibrations of their song resonating in his chest. The sound swirled and reverberated under the dome, then he suddenly noticed a peculiar thing happening.

Something began to twinkle in the darkness
.

It looked a little bit
like Gladwin’s fairy trails, but more silver than gold. Puffs of it appeared here and there in midair in the center of the dome and drifted down slowly like confetti.

“What’s that?” Jake breathed.

“I can’t believe it! It’s Illuminium!” Archie whispered in excitement. “I’ve heard about it, never seen it before. It’s a very rare phosphorescent mineral that’s said to have many magical properties. It lights up when it contacts sound waves of certain frequencies. The dwarves sing to make it glow.”

“
Shh!” Derek scolded.

Archie lowered his voice further. “
I’ve heard they use it as a backup light source underground. It helps them avoid methane explosions and whatnot. It doesn’t burn.”

“
It twinkles!” Dani whispered in excitement.

“
It’s beautiful,” Isabelle sighed.

Sparkling dust shimmered in the darkness as the dwarves sang one of the
ir ancient songs, bathing the cloud of Illuminium particles in the sound waves that made them shine. Meanwhile, other dwarves posted at various spots high up all around the Atrium used fireplace bellows to puff powdered Illuminium into the air.

The louder those
in the bleachers sang, the brighter the darkened Atrium grew. Before long, Jake could see his friends’ faces clearly by the mystical, silvery lights twinkling in the darkness, as if the stars had floated down close to hear the song.

Jake was sufficiently impressed to be filled with remorse for having poked fun of these good folk earlier.

Then he noticed that the gryphon statue’s eyes must have been made from two rounded chunks of Illuminium, for they, too, glowed as the dwarves sang.

When their medley
ended with a final, fading harmony, the lights came back up on all the chandeliers, and instantly, Jake and the others erupted with applause.

The dwarves themselves joined in the cheering, but Jake soon realized that the hero’s welcome was for Red.

The Gryphon bounded down off his purple throne and bowed to his short fans, then launched into the air and took a victory fly around the Atrium, letting out a grand, lion roar. The dwarves went mad with celebration at this display, but Red wasn’t quite done showing off yet.

To Jake’s amusement, his pet landed in the center of the Atrium and reared up o
n his hind legs, mimicking the gryphon statue.

Fluffing out the scarlet feathers around
his mane and looking very grand indeed, Red came prowling over to Jake and took his wrist gently in his beak.

“Huh? What are you doing?” Jake asked.

Red pulled him out of his chair and led him over to stand with him in the center of the stage-like Atrium.

Jake realized Red—or rather, Crafanc—
was presenting him to the dwarves as the new, rightful owner of the Everton Mine.

They all stared
, waiting to see what he might do.

Jake had no idea what to do. Sudde
nly remembering all of Miss Helena’s work with him on his manners, he offered the watching assembly of dwarves his most gentlemanly bow. “Thank you all so much for that wonderful singing,” he said, his voice echoing under the hollow dome of the Atrium. “I, er, we are all very pleased to be here.”

A murmur of approval ran quietly through th
e bleachers. Red seemed pleased as well.

Whew, Jake thought.
He must have done all right, because next, a stern-looking, red-bearded dwarf formally dressed in a kilt and tartan marched out carrying a golden key on a satin pillow.

He cleared his throat nervously. “Ahem.”
Of course, his first words were to Red. “Noble Lord Crafanc-y-Gwrool, we make you welcome. We are most honored by your presence, and we thank you for confirming the bloodline of the rightful heir.” The head dwarf seemed uneasy, himself, with all the formality.

He was tall for a dwarf, for w
hen he turned to Jake, Jake noticed they were about the same height. “My lord, I am the mine manager, Emrys, at your service. It is my great honor to present you, as the seventh Earl of Griffon, with the key to the Everton Mine.”

The dwarves all applauded
as though Jake were accepting an award.

“Thank you,” he answered uncertainly, lifting the
large key off the pillow to examine it. He couldn’t believe how heavy it was. “Blimey, is this solid gold?”

The
words slipped out at once while the dwarves were still applauding.

Emrys’s stony face cracked a smile.
“Aye, lad,” he mumbled in a low tone, “but it’s only ceremonial at this point. You’ll find our security measures have come a long way since that was forged back in the 1400s.”

“
I imagine so.” Wonderstruck, Jake started to put the key back gingerly on the pillow.

“
Er, sir—they usually want you to lift it up and show it around a bit,” Emrys coached him in a confidential tone.

“
Oh, right,” Jake said gratefully. Then he did as Emrys suggested and lifted the key over his head, showing it around so all the dwarves in the bleachers could see how pleased he was to accept it.

Red
was practically smiling with pride as he watched him. Having satisfied tradition, Jake laid the heavy golden key back down on the pillow for safekeeping until one day, when he was old, he’d bring his own son or daughter here to pass the mine down to
his
rightful heir.