The Girl of Ink & Stars (15 page)

CHAPTER
TWENTY~THREE

‘
I
t can't be …' I murmured. ‘Arinta's sword?'

But it had to be. The shape was rusted with age but if I squinted I could change the indentations on its surface into engravings. And if it was, and if I was right about the sea being the other side of this rock …

Only the sea can defeat a fire demon
.

This was our final chance, a gift passed down through a thousand years. I had said it myself, that glass was molten sand. That meant we were beneath a beach – maybe even the beach near Gromera. And that roaring, the roaring that sounded so much like wind and fire and, most of all, water…

I brushed my fingers against the sword. It was hot, the metal dull and unpolished, but I felt a surge of energy rush though my skin. My heart threw itself against my chest. I tried to grasp the hilt, but the metal was too hot. I bunched my tunic in my hand and tried again, but it was stuck fast. I
wrenched and wrenched until Lupe placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.

The fight went out of me like air. I felt tears starting in my eyes, gritty and hot. ‘You're right,' I said bitterly. ‘I'm not her.'

‘But the sword's here!' Lupe pulled me into a hug. ‘It's real, Isa. It's not a story.'

I sniffed. I had been so sure the sword would turn for me.

Behind us, the glass gave another crack. An intense heat flooded the cave and I looked around in time to see the cracks open into a hole, small but filling rapidly with flame. The air seemed to suck itself through, draining the cavern and filling it with heat. As we watched, the glass dripped down, widening the crack, letting a thin stream of molten rock thread its way through.

I turned to Lupe, but she had already placed her hand on the hilt. I saw it blister and smelt burnt skin.

‘Lupe, stop!' I tried to pull her scorched hand away but she pushed me back, eyes wild.

‘I have to, Isa! I have to make amends—'

‘For what?'

‘My father.'

‘I don't understand.' I reached out to her but she stepped back, shaking, blazing with anger.

‘My father knew. He didn't believe it, but he knew about Yote.'

I gaped at her.

‘The letter said so.' Lupe dug her fingernails into her palms and I could see the skin peeling. ‘That's why he came here. He killed his father and was sent here as punishment.'

‘For redemption,' I murmured, but Lupe had not heard me.

‘He was meant to help everyone leave, help them escape Yote, but he took over instead. He was rotten, like you said.'

‘It's not your fault,' I said carefully, trying to make sense of what she was saying. The Governor had known Yote wasn't a myth? But before I could ask more she gripped the hilt again. The metal fizzed against her palms.

‘Lupe, don't!'

I started towards her but suddenly—

‘It's working!'

The sword began to move, to turn.

A thousand years of pressure seemed to release in an instant, though this instant separated itself into distinct moments that would burn in my mind for ever.

First, another hiss rose to join the one from Lupe's palms. The second moment, a thin stream of water began to spurt out. The third moment, it grew into a torrent.

Just as the fire broke through the glass with a deafening crash, the water threw itself towards it. We collapsed under the weight of the sea.

Somehow, we found each other's hands.

The world turned, not only upside-down, but side to side. The ground was ripped again and again. I held on to Lupe in the tumult – or was it that she held on to me? –
though her fingers had to be painful from turning the sword. I was pressed down, ears popping as the force of the ocean pinned us in its grasp, thrusting us deeper.

We were drowning. Pressure roared through my head. My eyes bulged, breath forced from my chest.

The water smashed through Yote's thousand-year labyrinth as though it were paper, buffeting us along its relearnt currents, its power finally released. All I could do was hold fast to Lupe's hand. It was the only thing anchoring me.

As suddenly as the world had turned inside out, it righted.

My head surfaced, hitting solid rock. I spluttered, spitting out water and blood. My tongue throbbed where I'd bitten it. Lupe surfaced beside me. My arm was being pulled to the surface too and then I realized why: I was still holding the wood-light. It was bobbing on the rushing water, steadfast as Great-Great-Grandfather Riosse's boat.

I pulled Lupe forward, and she grasped the wood-light too. Gripping on to it and each other, we rode the steaming sea through what I could only guess was one of the tunnels that made up the maze. There was no sign of Tibicenas, nor of Yote or his flames. He was gone, swallowed by the ocean.

Our legs were being snatched at and wrenched down, even as the wood-light kept us afloat. I clenched my teeth as my feet were swirled and pulled until I felt sure my ankles would break.

We were swept into a high cave. My feet scraped
painfully along the submerged rock, caught between the current and the stone. I cried out, and felt Lupe kick my feet out of the way. There was a strange feeling of resistance, and a dull
thunk
, like a clay pot breaking. Then the current released us slightly.

I coughed up water. ‘Are you all right?'

Lupe turned her exhausted gaze upon me, bringing up a lungful of water so violently she almost lost her grip on the wood-light. She was hurt.

‘Hold on!' I clamped my hand over hers, looking around frantically. A few metres away, a fainter patch of dark caught my eye.

There was an opening.

I shouted for joy and instantly swallowed a mouthful of salty water.

‘Look!'

Lupe's eyes lifted, and she nodded. But there was something wrong. Her pupils were huge, as if night had slid beneath them. I kicked her, my movements slowed by the sea, tried to keep her awake. She must have hit her head.

I brought my mouth close to her ear and shouted, ‘It's all right. I'll get us home.'

The water was rising quickly, and we tilted our heads back to keep our mouths in the pocket of air. I wrapped my spare hand around Lupe's waist, and began to kick towards the opening.

The hole was perfectly round; it looked almost man-made. Objects were bobbing on the water – bits of cloth,
and something that looked very much like bone. One nudged at my face and I pushed it away, fighting to swim closer to the light. It would all be worth it if I could only get us to the surface.

Just as the water started to close over our heads, I reached the mouth of the opening. I pulled Lupe beside me, and together we gulped in air. Above us the tunnel seemed to stretch for ever. Perhaps it would take us to a way out.

But it was narrowing. I could barely squeeze through. Suddenly, we stopped rising. My hand was wrenched upwards as the wood-light tried to stay with the surge.

I looked down, eyes stinging, trying to pull Lupe with me, but instead saw her dress tugging at her shoulders. It was caught on something. I tried to tear her free but her body was already wedged in the thinning gap. She was stuck.

We were running out of time. The water was high over our heads. My body convulsed, desperate for air. Lupe pushed at me. I saw her mouth working and shook my head. I couldn't tell what she was saying.

She tried again, smiling sadly, bubbles spiralling:
Still the smallest in the class . . .

Then she tried to let go of the wood-light.

I clenched my hand around hers.
No
.

Time suspended itself like a stopped clock as we gazed at each other's blurred faces through the whirling water. My head felt full and empty at the same time, aching. The bright stars were back, my chest screaming.

Lupe squeezed my hand softly, and rammed the sharp point of the wood-light into my shoulder.

I gasped and rose, fast as a bubble, Lupe slipping through my fingers.

The pain of my shoulder wrapped itself around me. I tried to pull the wood-light out, but could not. I looked down through the reddening water, and saw that Lupe's arm was raised, the bracelet glinting on her wrist, her face calm, the last circles of air leaving her mouth.

Then she was gone.

CHAPTER
TWENTY~FOUR

T
he water spat me into more dark.

I landed, hard, not on earth, but on rock. It forced the wood-light out of my shoulder, and agony rolled across my body. Blood spread warmly over my tunic as voices broke over me like a wave.

‘It's a child!'

‘What's happening?

‘Where's the water coming from?'

I vomited seawater, skin stinging with salt. More water was rushing from the circular hole by my head. Many sets of hands were pulling me away.

I was lifted beneath my armpits, made to stand. I swayed, feeling water rushing over my ankles. Voices reverberated all around, and a horrid stench of mould and rot reached my nostrils. I knew this smell. I opened my eyes.

Uncomprehending faces stared back, blinking in the glow from the wood-light.

I was in the middle of the Dédalo.

‘The underworld is emptying!' shrieked a man excitably.

‘It's Isabella!' said another voice. My eyes darted around. That voice…

Pablo loomed over me, Masha at his side, more hunched than ever. How was he here? His face was stitched roughly at the forehead and chin, but he was smiling. The old woman unwrapped her shawl and tied it tightly around the bleeding wound in my shoulder.

‘Are you all right, child? How did you—'

‘Look!' said the excitable man, pointing down.

The water was still rising. The wood-light bobbed by my calves and I picked it up with my good hand. Everyone began running in the same direction. Pablo threw a kicking Masha over his shoulder, and grasped me.

‘Come!'

It was too much, all of it. I tried to wrench my hand from his but then in the silvery light I saw a familiar face. The figure came limping up to me and hugged me so tightly I could barely breathe.

Da.

I held him with my good arm until I was sure he was really there. Until I was sure I was really there. There was so much I wanted to say, but my throat was closed tight. He released me and took the wood-light so he could hold my hand.

Together we followed the fleeing crowds. Da leant heavily on me, but he was moving more swiftly than I thought
possible. The passages were nearly as narrow as the labyrinth. From the left and right came shouts of confusion, and more and more people flooded from the darkness to join the stampede upwards.

The water was sucking at my hips now, and I felt a fresh wave of panic as I looked up. A vast set of narrow stairs stretched before us, seething with people. From high above came cries for help, and hammering. We were not yet safe.

‘What's happening?' shouted the woman in front.

The question went echoing upwards. A few seconds later, the answer was passed down the staircase.

‘It's locked! The trapdoor is locked!'

Desperate shouts rose. The people behind were pushing forward, away from the swirling seawater, crushing us. Those already on the staircase clung white-knuckled to the thin rope that served as a banister. If the people behind kept pushing, others were going to be forced off the edge.

‘Stop!' shouted Da, but it was no use. Panic had taken hold.

I racked my sluggish brain for a plan, but no ideas surfaced. The water was still rising, seeping into the bottom of my tunic now, my trousers soaked and heavy. I felt a sharp scratch through the material, and reached into the pocket to find the thin gold key poking through.

I pulled out the key ring. The six other keys glinted through the water. I tried to cry out, but still my voice would not come. I tugged at Da's sleeve and held them up. He looked blank a moment, then saw the royal-blue crest on
the key ring. He shoved me forward.

‘Go, Isabella. Run!'

So I did, every muscle in my body screaming to stop. I pushed blindly through the crowd, ignoring the shouts of anger and yelps of pain as I trod on feet and raked my nails across the hands that tried to stop me. The steps seemed never-ending, but just as my legs started to shake I saw the trapdoor, illuminated by a lamp swaying from a panicked man's arm. He was beating at the wood while another scratched at the lock, his nails bleeding, but no one came.

I pushed up the last few steps and pulled at the man's arm. He looked down, eyes wild, and I held up the ring of keys. He grabbed at them, but his hands were shaking so much he dropped them. They nearly fell off the step and into the crowd below. I snatched the keys up.

A scream came from the base of the stairs. I could not help myself; I looked. The water was up to people's waists. I shook my head to clear it, and reached up to test the first key, trying to ignore the tearing sensation in my shoulder.

It did not fit the lock.

I took up the next one, fingers trembling as the man beside me hissed fearfully, ‘Quickly, child.'

More screaming was coming from below, and sounds of thrashing as the shorter prisoners fought to stay afloat, or were held up by their companions. The second key slotted into the lock but would not turn. Nor would the third.

Finally, with a deep wrenching sound, the fourth key began to turn. The man yelped in excitement and helped me
rotate it in the rusty lock. Then he and two others placed their shoulders against the trapdoor and started to push with all their might.

They could not lift it.

One of the men screamed, pointing at the edges of the trapdoor. Huge, rusted spikes showed through. ‘They've nailed us in!'

Then he was being pushed aside as Pablo moved past and put his shoulder to the wood. He heaved once, the stitches contorting his face, and the trapdoor swung off its hinges.

The light flooded over us like a wave, and the man behind me moaned, shielding his eyes.

Pablo jumped up into the corridor of the Governor's house, and helped me stumble out. I only had a moment to register that the torches were burning without a guard in sight, before Pablo grabbed me. He hugged me hard and I let him, gasping as my shoulder throbbed, his hands impossibly warm through my tunic.

Then he pushed me behind him against the wall, running forward to help the first rush of people scramble into the hallway.

A seemingly endless stream began dashing down the four corridors in an effort to make room, some joining Pablo in helping the elderly or injured out of the steep stairwell. The faces grew more and more harrowed, the clothes more and more soaked.

‘Where's Da?' I croaked, as Pablo helped a woman out,
wet-haired.

Before I could stop him, Pablo was gone, pushing down the stairwell and into the sloshing darkness of the Dédalo.

I wanted to follow, but the throb in my shoulder had intensified and I stayed pressed against the wall. Opposite was the pinned butterfly and I kept my eyes trained on it as bodies rushed past. How could so many people have been in the Dédalo? An ancient-looking man emerged with a long beard wrapped around his arm, his eyes unseeing. Masha collapsed out of the hole after him.

Finally, I saw the top of Pablo's head, black hair flattened by damp, pulling someone's arm. Da emerged, dripping wet and sucking his cheeks in the way he did when he was in pain, and Pablo slung his arm across his shoulders to help him walk. It made me remember Lupe doing the same for me in the maze and I cried out as they hurried towards me. There were two more men behind them, and they seemed to be the last because together they heaved the trapdoor closed.

I was numb to everything except Da. I pulled away from the wall and forced my feet the few steps to him, falling into his arms.

An ear-splitting grinding spread through the house, a fierce tremor that ripped lamps from the walls. I tumbled to the floor, Pablo throwing himself over me and Da as the lamps smashed on to the cloth, spilling their fire.

We were helped to our feet and ran, all of us, down the corridors of the house like ants fleeing a nest. The flames
were ripping at the ground, making quick work of the elegant tapestries and paintings. I felt like as if I was back in Yote's lair, and wondered whether we'd be crushed before we burnt.

The ground wrenched again, shaking the house. A huge crack opened in the wall of the corridor and my legs were quaking, skittering beneath me. But suddenly we were outside in the courtyard by the stables, and it was raining harder than I had ever seen it rain before.

The ground was churning mud, shaking so hard it was impossible to stand. I fell as there was another violent twist and a monstrous crunching sound that vibrated through my whole body.

A noise like thunder scraped the air. The stalls in the market square, pocket-small at this distance, were crumbling, sending up dust into the torrential rain. The Arintara was already bursting its banks to the north, flowing over the rubble, and the well in the centre of the square was sending water pluming upwards like a fountain.

‘The sea,' shouted Da through a mouthful of mud. ‘It's pulling Joya free!'

The sea seemed to give a last, brutal tug. The ground rocked from side to side, and I saw huge waves breaking over the bay below, sucking broken houses into the water. The blackened shell of the Governor's ship pitched and strained at its moorings, but I could see no other boats.

Wind whipped at our clothes, beginning to draw the rain clouds back like a curtain. They disappeared, the rain swept
away with them, and we were suddenly dazzled by sunshine set against the usual blue.

The tremors slowed, then ceased. The ground stopped rocking, as if the island were finding some balance. I was winded, lungs useless as I tried to catch my breath. Around me, people were standing up, starting to call out to each other. Behind us, the Governor's house was shattered, the roof collapsed.

‘It's floating,' said Da. ‘Joya's floating. Isabella, what did you do?'

I could still not find my voice. The sea, the sea that Lupe had freed, had scooped out the base of Joya, snapping the island from its stem like a water lily. I had heard of floating islands, circling the world like living ships, at the mercy of the current. I had been entranced by those stories, but now I did not care.

As the blue of the Joya sky spread above me, and fathoms of sea flowed beneath, I closed my eyes, and wept.