The Lost Prince (27 page)

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Authors: Matt Myklusch

BOOK: The Lost Prince
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Waverly nodded. “I considered that.”

“Did you really?”

“Yes, but then I realized something.”

“You couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to me?”

“No.” Waverly grinned. “That even if I didn’t marry you, I’d still have to marry. Most likely, my father would have matched me with one of the Ralian brothers.” She made a face as if she had just drunk spoiled milk. “They are the second-richest family in the kingdom, after all. Noble marriages are just business transactions. A means to an end.”

“Is that right?” Dean said, finally seeing the true face of his enemy. “So if I was out of the way, and one of the Ralian brothers married you, he’d inherit the throne from your father once they made him king. Wouldn’t he?”

Waverly nodded. “Quite the prize, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are.” As a new piece of the puzzle fell into place, Dean saw the big picture at last. It wasn’t the regent who’d been trying to kill him. It was the Ralians. It had been only the Ralians all along. Dean wished Waverly had said something about them
earlier. He might have figured it out sooner. Then a better thought popped into his head. “You wanted me to win. You chose me over them.”

“I wanted you to live. The women of this island have been saving your life since the day you were born. This is no time to break tradition.” Waverly smiled and checked the map. “This way.” She took Dean’s chalk and marked the cavern wall as she entered the correct tunnel. It was not the one Dean had picked.

With the map in hand, Dean and Waverly navigated the labyrinth with little difficulty. For the most part. The greatest obstacle they encountered early on was water in places where the tides had pushed the ocean up into the caves. Some of the downward-sloping tunnels had failed to drain back out when high tide receded, which slowed and nearly halted their progress. Dean slipped and fell while walking through one of the watery channels. He shot his arms up as he went under the water, managing to keep the map dry, but dousing the light of his lantern. After his fall, he and Waverly walked the path with greater care so as not to make the same mistake. If her lantern were lost, all hope would be lost as well. The pitch-black meandering caverns offered no light except what travelers brought in with them. Without it, they were as good as dead.

From that point on, Dean and Waverly moved more slowly and huddled close together, sharing her lamp’s light. The deeper they went into the labyrinth, the smaller the tunnels became.
Working in greater darkness did little to increase Waverly’s fondness of such tight spaces, and the road grew harder to travel. In some cases, they had to climb straight up, bracing their backs against narrow passageways and pushing with their feet. Up they went. On they went, holding tight to the blazing-hot oil lamp and contraband map as if their lives depended on it. Which they did.

As they neared the end of the maze, Dean found the continued presence of residual tidewater vexing. “The water flooded all the way up here? How do people get lost in these tunnels for weeks? I’ve yet to find one we wouldn’t drown in at high tide.”

Waverly shook her head. “That’s why no one runs the maze this close to the storm. It’s too dangerous. Jarret took no chances and did it the first day of our harvest.” She looked around and shook from head to toe. “I really … I don’t like it in here, Dean. We need to get out.”

Dean looked at Waverly. It was hard to tell in the lantern’s amber light, but she looked pale, her lips somewhat purple. He’d seen those symptoms before out at sea. Some people took ill on the waves after being cooped up belowdecks too long. They had to get outside and would go up above in a squall if it meant they could get a breath of fresh air and a clean look at the sky. People with that affliction could be unpredictable and downright dangerous to themselves and others. That was something Dean and Waverly could not afford at the moment. “We’re almost
there,” he reassured Waverly, holding up the map. “Look here, it’s just a short way. Come on.” He took her by the hand and led her forward. “Don’t think about the tunnel. Focus on something else. Tell me, what did you mean when you said Zenhalan women have been saving my life since I was born?” he asked. Dean’s goal was to keep her talking. To keep her with him.

“I mean … if you’re the prince. The queen, your mother, she gave her life for you. She cut out a pirate’s eye before letting him take you. I suppose she didn’t save you completely, but she tried. And you did live.”

Dean looked at Waverly. “She cut his eye out? Truly?”

“Of course. Don’t you know the story?”

Dean paused a moment, thinking about a certain one-eyed pirate who was known to be obsessed with Zenhala. “I’ve heard a hundred stories about this island. The one about the pirate losing his eye … that’s true?”

“It is,” Waverly said, sounding more like herself. “But what am I saying? You don’t think you’re the prince.”

“That’s right. I don’t.”

Waverly studied Dean a moment. “Is it my imagination or do you sound less certain than you did last night?”

“I think the caves are affecting your hearing.”

“I don’t know. You’ve surprised everyone else here. Why not yourself?”

Dean thought about it. He was the right age. His arm bore the
right mark. Also, he had never known his parents and had been the property of a one-eyed pirate since birth. Alone, each point meant nothing, but together … Was it possible that he really was the prince of legend?
No. Of course not.
He couldn’t afford to pin his hopes on crazy dreams. They were sure to fall apart on him. He had to hold on to what he knew for sure.
Stick to the plan. Stay the course. Leave while you still can.

“Come on. We’re in the home stretch now,” he said, tapping the map with his finger. “The exit lies a mere fifty feet away.” Dean took Waverly by the hand and led her around a corner. They stopped short when they saw the flooded tunnel. “Or not.”

The way forward ran downhill and was filled with black water. That was bad enough, but to make matters worse, the tunnel angled straight down at the far wall and ran beneath an overhanging rock formation. To get to the other side, Dean and Waverly had to leave their light behind and completely submerge. If they wanted out of the labyrinth, they had to swim for it.

“Are we sure this is it?” Waverly asked.

Dean checked the map. “It had better be. Getting here was hard enough, and there’s no time to turn back now.”

“That’s not exactly what I want to hear.”

“This is it,” Dean said. “We know it is. Look.” He waded into the water and jumped in when he reached the drop-off point. He dove down and swam around, blindly feeling at the rock walls
with his hands. “There’s room to swim,” he said when he came back up. “We’re almost there.”

“Is it dark?” Waverly asked.

Dean climbed out of the water. Of course it was dark. “There’s no other way to the throne room. We have to do this.” He reached out a hand to Waverly. “I’ll be right there with you.”

Waverly nodded reluctantly and set the map and lantern down on a dry stone ledge. She took Dean’s hand and followed him into the deep water. “Oh, this is cold.”

“You go first. That way, I can keep my eyes on you.”

“Okay.”

“Take your time. We’ll go when you’re ready.”

Waverly took a moment to steel her nerves and dove under the water. Dean swam after her. It was dark without the lantern and beyond scary to be swimming blind in a tunnel that, for all he knew, could be a thousand feet long. But the map had gotten them this far, and he had to trust it. What choice did he have? He felt the walls with his hands as he swam. He could see nothing. A family of fish swam by, startling him, and Dean knew they had the same effect on Waverly, for she was right behind them. He tried to stop her as she passed him, but she pushed him off, kicking wildly and swimming back the way she came. Dean couldn’t call after her underwater. All he could do was follow her back to the beginning of the flooded passage.

By the time Dean surfaced, Waverly had already gotten out of
the water. She was sitting at the end of the tunnel, shaking, with her arms wrapped around her knees. “I can’t do it. It’s too far. It goes on forever.”

“It doesn’t go on forever. It’s fifty feet. Maybe a touch less. We were almost there.”

“I’m not going back in there. I can’t.”

Dean got out and sat down next to her. “Of course you can.” She was chilled to the bone, as was he. He put an arm around her, which helped a little bit. He didn’t want to cause her any additional panic. “Take your time. We’ll try again when you’re ready.”

“I said I’m not going back in there!” Waverly said, shoving Dean off.

Dean leaned back. “Wow. I guess we finally found something you’re afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid!” Waverly snapped. Then she sighed, realizing how ridiculous she sounded. “Fine. So what if I am?”

Dean snapped his fingers. “Exactly. So what? That’s the way to get around fear. You just have to realize you don’t have a choice. When you want something, you go after it, no matter what. You want to live, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then we have to get down that tunnel. It’s not as if we can stay here forever. You didn’t pack enough bread, and even if you did, the tide will come by nightfall. The choice is drown here or
drown in there. But at least in there you have a shot.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Please. You have to try.”

Waverly looked up at Dean, then down at the water. “I’m not going first.”

“No. That was a mistake. We’ll do it together this time.”

“You won’t leave me?”

Dean knelt down in front of Waverly. “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.” He took her hand in his. “I’m not leaving you for anything. If we drown in there, we drown side by side. That’s the deal.”

Waverly gave a slight chuckle. “How can I pass up an offer like that?”

“Just remember, you volunteered for this.”

Waverly and Dean got up, and in they went, back into the long dark tunnel. The water was just as cold and black as it had been the first time. Holding each other’s hand, they swam slower than before, but this time, they swam forward and kept going. The course was twisting and uncertain, but they didn’t stop. To Dean, the tunnel felt longer than fifty feet. It felt more like a hundred, but as they neared the end, a faint light began to grow. They pushed themselves toward that light with all the strength they had, pulling each other along until they reached the end of the tunnel. They broke through the water at the same time, gasping for air. The water was shallow enough for them to stand. Between great heaving breaths, they reached for each other and embraced.

“Thank the stars,” Dean said.

“Thank
you
,” Waverly replied.

Dean shook his head. “We did it together.”

“And I never want to do it again.”

“Agreed!”

They were in another large underground chamber, this one right below the throne room. Up at the roof, Dean saw glass tubes that led to fountains in the great hall above, ready to be filled by furious, churning seawater. Light pouring in from overhead illuminated a spiral staircase in the center of the room, which wound up to a door in the ceiling. A round marble slab with a triple wave crest was carved into its underside. Waverly directed Dean’s attention to it. “Go. Pound on that door and all the nobles in Zenhala will hail you as the heir of Aquos.” Dean started up the stairs, and Waverly grabbed his wrist. “You can count me among them. The blood test tomorrow is a formality now. No one but the true prince could ever accomplish all that you have done.”

Dean didn’t know what to say.

He led Waverly up the steps and banged on the door in the ceiling. A crowd of cheering nobles could be heard on the other side. For the first time since he’d set foot on Zenhala, Dean wondered if he might be deserving of their praise.

CHAPTER
27
L
AST
D
ANCE

T
hat night, a feast celebrating Dean’s successful completion of the trials was held in the Aqualine Palace. Ronan wanted to leave before the party started. He wanted off the island as soon as possible, before the storm hit. Rook’s final attempt to locate the orchard had been fruitless, and there was no point in staying any longer. It was time for the three of them to head back and take their chances with One-Eyed Jack.

Or maybe just two of them would go.

Ronan and Dean might have suspended hostilities with Rook during their time on Zenhala, but neither of them had forgotten his treacherous nature. Dean worried what Rook would do when the three of them stood before One-Eyed Jack once again. He
couldn’t be trusted to hold his tongue when One-Eyed Jack asked why his parrot was never sent back with directions. But if Rook weren’t there, Dean and Ronan could make up any story they wanted.

That was how it had to be.

They would leave Rook behind to get sealed in by the storm, and send out Sisto right before they left. By the time the parrot reached St. Diogenes, and One-Eyed Jack started sailing, it would be too late to get ahead of the storm, but he would see that they had sent the bird. He just had no way of knowing
when
they had sent him. Dean would give One-Eyed Jack the dates of next year’s harvest, and a map to the island. Without Rook there to muck things up, it could work. He could still get out of One-Eyed Jack’s pocket if everything went according to plan.

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