The Emerald Atlas (23 page)

Emma noticed a strange thing begin to happen. The wrinkles were fading from the old woman’s face, her eyes grew brighter, the curve in her back straightened. The old Granny Peet, wrinkled and hunched, was still there, but as she spoke, this other woman, tall and proud and beautiful, appeared as well. It was as if one were laid on top of the other.

“We all know the stories that tell of an object of great power buried in these mountains. Many of us believe these stories are what drew the witch. But what is this object she seeks? What is it capable of? The stories do not say.”

Granny Peet paused. Emma could see men and women leaning forward. Overhead, balconies creaked as those above shifted to better hear.

“It is a book.

“There were once three great books of magic, the most powerful books of magic ever written. But they were lost, thousands of years ago. Even so, all wizards and wise people know of them, know of their power. Each one has the ability to reshape our world.

“Long ago, I came to believe that one of these books was buried here. But which one, I did not know. Now, thanks to this child, I do.”

She laid her hand on the back of Emma’s neck. Emma could feel the twisted, callused hand of the old woman and the smooth, strong hand of the young one.

“The book hidden in these mountains, the one the witch seeks with all her might, is the one that holds the secrets of time and space. It is called the
Atlas.
”

A murmur swept the room, and even though she was standing beside the fire, Emma felt a chill run through her. Granny Peet raised her hand. The murmuring stopped.

“The
Atlas
allows the user to step through time. To move across the map of history. That alone should seed fear in all our hearts. But there is more.” Emma felt the crowd of listeners press in even further, each of them hanging upon the old woman’s words. “If a person can truly harness the book’s power, he will be able not only to move through time and space, but to control it. The very fabric of our world will be subject to his whim. On that day, all our lives, the lives of all those we love, the lives of every person on this planet, will be at his mercy. The
Atlas
cannot be allowed to pass into the hands of the witch.”

She stopped speaking. From the corner of her vision, Emma saw the beautiful ghost woman crumple and fade till once again only ancient, elephant-skinned Granny Peet stood beside her. For a few long moments, there was nothing but silence. Then a tall, muscular man stood at the back of the room.

“I will fight.”

And one by one, they rose from their places on the benches or stepped forward from the walls until every man between sixteen and sixty was standing, declared and ready to fight.

The old man sighed. “Very well, if we must, we must. But who shall lead?”

“I shall.”

Gabriel was standing in the doorway, a blanket draped around his shoulders. In a moment Emma was hugging him, burying her face in his side to hide her tears.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The Black Lake

Keeping close to the rock wall and moving as silently as possible, Kate, Michael, and the small band of dwarves made their way along the ridge above the old city until they arrived at a doorway into whose arch was carved a pair of crossed hammers. They passed through and found themselves in a dark chamber. Hamish rummaged under his beard and pulled out a fist-sized crystal, which he tapped against the wall. Immediately, white light filled the space, revealing a nearly vertical staircase corkscrewing away into darkness. Hamish jabbed the old dwarf, Fergus, awake.

“Oi! You’ll get plenty a’ sleep when you’re dead, which’ll be soon enough, trust me. This ’ere’s the right way to go, yeah?”

Fergus blinked his rheumy eyes and peered down the stairs. “Aye, that’s the way. Down, down, all the way down. Left, right, another right, third left, sixth right, eighth left and on down, follow your nose is all.…” And he fell asleep again.

“Oi! Keep ’im awake; we’re gonna need him. Bloody ’ell.”

The staircase was narrow and steep and full of sharp, unexpected turns (“Like whoever made it wanted you to break your neck,” Michael whispered, then added, “I bet it wasn’t a dwarf; they probably used an outside contractor”). Fortunately, the other dwarves had produced crystals similar to Hamish’s, so Kate and Michael could at least see where to put their feet. What bothered Kate more than anything was that each time they reached a place where the stairs split, Fergus would be prodded awake and forced to tell them which way to go. She pleaded with Hamish to write down what the old dwarf said so they wouldn’t always be waking him, but Hamish scoffed at the idea.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Writing things down! There’ll be no writing as long as I’m around! You can bet on that! Ha!”

The further down they went, the colder it grew; soon icicles were hanging from the ceiling and Kate and Michael could see their breath before them. Kate noticed that the dwarves had begun looking about nervously.

“Supposed to be haunted,” Wallace whispered. In his right hand, he held the glowing crystal; his left gripped the haft of his ax. “It’s why few dwarves ever come here. Too many died bad in this place. There’re stories of dwarves who’ve gotten lost in the dark and felt icy hands—”

“Maybe you could tell us later,” Kate suggested.

Wallace glanced at Michael, whose eyes were nearly as wide as the lenses of his glasses. “Aye,” he grunted. “I can do that.”

“Stop!”

The cry had come from Fergus, who Kate had supposed was still sleeping against the back of his porter. His shout caused the children to look up (they had been staring at their feet, fearful of missing a step and tumbling down the stairs), and it was then they noticed that the staircase was ending and they had arrived in a cavern. Fifteen feet away was another doorway, and the stairs resumed their downward spiral.

“This is it,” said the old dwarf.

“Here?” Hamish said. “This can’t be it.”

Kate had to agree. The cavern was a raw room of earth and rock. The only notable points were the two entrances and a small dark lake at one end.

“Nope,” Fergus said, climbing to the ground and settling himself against the wall. “This is it.”

“Is that right?” Hamish sneered. “This is the golden cavern you were soooooooo certain you could find?” He grabbed Fergus’s beard and gave it a vicious tug. “If you’ve led us wrong, you old pile of bones, I’ll make you eat your beard!”

Fergus chuckled. “Course this ain’t the golden cavern. That’s through there, it is.” He pointed at the black lake. “Down to the bottom of the water, you find a tunnel, swim through, through, through, come up, bang there you are, golden cavern neat as you please. Careful, though.” Fergus pulled out a long clay pipe and began to pack the bowl. “Something lives down there. Dark and wiggly it is.”

He lit a match and gave the pipe three short pulls, his cheeks caving inward. Then he leaned back and blew a large, lazy smoke ring. None of the other dwarves had spoken or moved.

“This,” whispered Wallace, leaning close to Kate and Michael, “is not good.”

“What do you mean something lives down there?” Hamish demanded. “What lives down there?”

The old dwarf shrugged. “Dunno. Never gone in there meself. Not daft, ye know.”

“THEN ’OW THE BLOODY ’ELL DO YOU KNOW IT GOES TO THE BLOODY GOLDEN CAVERN?!”

As far below the city as they were, Kate wondered how the Countess’s Screechers couldn’t hear Hamish’s ranting.

Fergus calmly blew another smoke ring. “Me brother went through. Told me all about it.”

“So why am I not talking to your brother instead a’ you, you worthless old cod?!”

“Suspect ’cause ’e’s dead. Remember it clear as day. I was sitting ’ere, right where I am now, enjoying me pipe. I do like a good pipe. Dennis—that’s me brother—he disappears into the pool there, I wait, wait, wait, awful long time, finally ’e comes back out, ’ead bobbing up yonder, saying, ‘Fergus, old boy, there’s a tunnel and it leads to a beautiful golden cavern!’ ‘A golden cavern?’ I says. ‘Aye,’ ’e says. ‘And is it real gold?’ I says. ‘Not real gold,’ ’e says, ‘it’s—
urp
!’ ”

“Urp?!” Hamish sputtered. “What the bloody ’ell does ‘urp’ mean?”

“Nothing. That’s the sound he made when the monster ate ’im. Grabbed ’im around ’is neck and down ’e went.
Urp.
”

For a long moment, no one said anything.

Then Hamish exploded. He jumped around, screaming and spitting and smashing anything he could with his ax. For a second, Kate thought he was going to attack Fergus, who was sitting there smoking his pipe and not bothering to hide the amused grin on his face.

“Traditionally,” Michael whispered, “dwarves aren’t big swimmers.”

“I’m not sure the swimming is the problem,” Kate replied.

Huffing noisily through his beard, Hamish stuck his face into the old dwarf’s. “So this is your secret bloody way, sending us traipsing through some underwater monster’s living room?”

Fergus shrugged. “Not my way. The way. The only way.”

Hamish glowered, and Kate saw his knuckles tighten on his ax as if he were considering lopping off the old dwarf’s head, but then he turned. “Right! Into the drink, you lot!” He sneered at Kate and Michael. “And yeah, that means you brats too.”

Fergus sent out another smoke ring and chuckled quietly.
“Urp.”

The party gathered around the black pool. The dwarves had to take off their heavy boots and leave behind all but their lightest knives. Kate and Michael removed their jackets and shoes. Kate transferred the two photos she was carrying, the one of herself in the bedroom and the photo Abraham had given her, the one he’d said was the last picture he’d ever taken, into her pants pocket. Seeing Abraham’s photo brought back the morning she’d spent in his room with Emma. It seemed to Kate that, though only a few days had passed, the memory belonged to another life.

“Are you going to be okay?” Michael asked.

“Of course. I’ll be fine.” Of the three siblings, Kate was far and away the weakest swimmer. The first few orphanages they’d lived at hadn’t bothered giving the children lessons. When Kate finally did learn, she was nearly nine, and she had never overcome her fear and unease in the water, her sense that she was always struggling not to drown. And now, as she stuffed her balled-up socks into her shoes, her hands were trembling.

A couple of the dwarves gingerly dipped their toes in the water, only to pull them out quickly. “Maybe it’s dead, whatever it was,” Kate heard one mutter. Fergus was still chuckling and smoking at the back of the cave. Black-bearded Wallace approached with two glowing crystals.

“You’ll be needin’ these. Dark as pitch down there, looks like.”

“Thank you,” Kate said. Despite the light it gave off, Kate found the crystal was cool in her hand.

“Right, then.” Hamish stepped to the edge of the pool. “No time like the present,” and he seized a dwarf and threw him in.

There was a large splash, and the dwarf’s head reappeared as he thrashed about, struggling to stay above the surface. “Under the water, you!” Hamish shouted, snatching up a large rock. Seeing he had no choice, the dwarf took a breath and dove. Kate watched the glow of his crystal slowly fade and disappear. There was another splash as Hamish pushed a second dwarf into the pool.

One of the dwarf guards began to back away. “I can’t swim, Your Highness.”

“Then it’s ’igh time to learn!”

A splash, and he disappeared as well.

Hamish turned on Kate and Michael. “You goin’ in yourselves, or you rather I toss you? Either way, you’re getting wet!”

“Come on,” Kate said.

She and Michael waded into the dark water. It was so cold that Kate’s feet and ankles began to ache almost immediately. They came to a ledge; the water barely reached to Kate’s knees. The next step would take them into the abyss.

“Michael, your glasses.”

“Oh, thanks.” He fumbled them into his pocket, trying not to drop his glowing crystal.

“You’d better go first. You’re a faster swimmer. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Kate—”

“It’ll be okay.”

Even as he nodded, she wondered just how unconvincing she must sound. And for a brief moment, she realized the insanity of their situation. They were inside a mountain, under the remains of an ancient dwarf city, about to dive into a black pool where a monster might or might not still be living, all so they could retrieve a lost magic book. What was she thinking? She had started to take a step back, pulling Michael with her, when a rough hand shoved her from behind.

“In ya go!”

They were swallowed by icy black water. Almost immediately, Kate saw Michael’s crystal begin to move away. He was swimming downward. She followed, terrified at the thought of losing him. After a few strokes, Michael leveled off. That’s when Kate saw another light, off in the darkness, and another, faint and fuzzy, past that. She realized how far they had to go.

Don’t panic, she told herself, don’t panic.

They had entered a kind of narrow trench, walls on either side, the rocky ceiling directly above, and below them … well, Kate didn’t look below them. She concentrated on the light from Michael’s crystal and her own jerky, weak stroke. It was impossible to say how much time passed. Her arms grew heavy. Her heart hammered in her chest. Worst was the pressure in her lungs; it felt as if they were collapsing upon themselves, squeezing out every last ounce of air. She tried to tell herself that she wasn’t falling behind, even as the glow from Michael’s crystal grew more and more faint.

Then something struck her foot.

Panic shot through her, and she whirled about. She saw a mass of flailing limbs and thought for a moment it was the monster. Then she recognized one of Hamish’s dwarves. He was making wild gestures, urging her to move aside. She did and he swam past, with strokes even more crazed and unschooled than hers. He was perhaps five feet further on when three long fingers slid up out of the darkness and seized him by the leg. The fingers were a cancerous yellow-green, each one nearly a yard long and as thick around as a man’s arm. The dwarf hacked at them with his knife, bubbles exploding around him, but he was already being pulled down. Kate tried to scream and her lungs filled with water. Choking, she swam to the top of the trench, pounding at the rock, searching for air, for escape. The crystal fell from her hands. She grabbed at it, fumbling, but it slipped into darkness, and then there was nothing but darkness, all around her, enveloping her.…

“Kate! Kate!”

Her eyes opened. A second later, she was coughing and hacking, the foul-tasting water spewing from her nose and mouth. Michael pounded her on the back.

“Come on! Come on!”

“Michael … I’m okay.…”

“I thought … I thought …” He hugged her tightly.

“Hey there now, let the lass breathe.”

Kate felt Michael being pulled away. Wallace stood over them. Water was dripping from his long black beard, and his matted hair was plastered to his face. All about them, dwarves were wringing out their beards, shaking water from their clothes, and meanwhile everything was suffused with a soft golden light emanating from thousands of points on the walls and ceiling.

“What happened?”

“Wallace found you floating in the tunnel. He pulled you out. He told us”—Michael lowered his voice—“he told us what happened.”

The dwarf was helping her to sit up. “Thank you,” Kate said. “You saved my life.”

Wallace reddened, then, glancing about, he said quietly, “Captain Robbie told me to look out for you two. But keep that between us, then, eh?” He gave a very unsubtle wink.

“Are you really okay?” Michael asked.

“Yes,” Kate said, though even as she said it, she noticed that her whole body was shaking and the tips of her fingers were blue.

“Right, then!” Hamish was a few feet away, coiling his beard into a rope to squeeze out the water. “Spread out, lads! There’s a door hidden here somewhere.” He looked at Kate and Michael. “You two brats can help.”

“No!” Michael said fiercely. “My sister’s cold and wet. She needs to get warm.”