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It took Avender a while to remember he wasn’t outside, and that what looked like stars spinning in the clear night overhead were actually drops of water shining on the roof of a small cave.
And it wasn’t the roof that was spinning, it was him.
He enjoyed a moment’s peace, something he hadn’t had in a while, before the cold of the water he was floating in finally roused him. Remembering the struggle by the stream, he scrambled ashore. He’d lost his pack and sword, but at least he’d kept his lamp. In its pale light he studied the cuts and bruises still healing on his hands, and decided the only thing that had kept him alive after the sissit had knocked him into the water was his Living Stone. How long it had been, and how many flumes and falls his battered body had tumbled through during the descent to this new cave, he had no idea.
He wondered what had happened to Hubley. Had the sissit captured her? He didn’t see how she could possibly have escaped. Mims had told him the child wouldn’t remember any more magic than the traveling spell for some time. He frowned at the thought of how easily the sissit had ambushed him but, knowing there wasn’t any time for guilt, forced himself to think the matter through. As long as Mims was alive, Hubley would be too. With any luck, Ferris and the old magician were rescuing her right now. Or at least they would be, once Avender called them on his magic mirror and told them what had happened.
His already cold skin chilled even more when he pulled the mirror out of his shirt and discovered it was broken. Although he was sure Mims would find Hubley before it was too late, hungry sissit had been known to bite off bits of their captives before they killed them. And even her Living Stone wouldn’t help if they had time to actually cook and eat her.
He had to help the old magician find her.
Jumping to his feet, he examined the source and outlet of the stream. Neither looked promising. The water entered through a gap in the far wall near the ceiling before dropping to the pool in a small and noisy fall, then left by way of a larger opening in the bottom at the other end. Avender saw at once the current coming out of the wall was much too strong for him to be able to force his way back up it. He supposed if worst came to worst he could always let the drain suck him out and away, and trust in the Stone to revive him wherever he came out. Even if he fell into the Abyss, his thimble would always bring him back. Bad as the Gray Wizard was, he was still better than an endless fall through darkness.
But he refused to believe that Mims had rescued him from Castle Grangore just to get him trapped all over again in an even deeper cave, and began to search the chamber more thoroughly. It took some time, with a lot of clambering up and down the slippery walls, but eventually he discovered a hole in the ceiling over the deep end of the pool. Unfortunately, it was a good bit farther than he could reach from the wall, and Avender was no Dwarf that he could hang from the rock by his fingers and toes. He tried jumping for it several times from a tall pile of broken stones near that edge of the cave, but there was no ledge to catch onto even when he did manage to reach the opening. All he got for his trouble was a fresh wetting each time he fell into the pool.
On his last try he landed on his pack. Apparently it had come loose from whatever had caught it upstream. The sight of it swirling lazily in the slow current above the drain, the same way he’d spun when he’d first arrived, gave him an idea. What if he blocked the drain?
He would never be able to dam it completely, but what if he could clog it enough for the water to start filling the cave? Raise it high enough and he’d be able to swim right up to the hole, if he didn’t freeze first. Of course it would help if the opening actually led somewhere, otherwise he’d just get stuck. In which case he really would have to use his thimble.
Grabbing the pack, he scrambled back up onto the rocks he’d been using as a diving platform and began kicking them into the stream. At first only a few fell, but it wasn’t long before he managed to overweight one side of the pile. A section rolled into the water like a single slab with a roar loud enough to drown out the rumble of the fall at the other end.
When the dust cleared, Avender saw the rocks had partly filled the drain. Taking the blanket out of his pack, he waded back into the water. Cold clamped his trousers fast against his legs. Bracing himself for the freezing plunge, he ducked his head under the surface. With heavy rocks to anchor the corners, the blanket covered the opening completely. The little current still flowing sucked the material down till it settled over the rocks like a dark brown crust on a pie.
Returning to the surface several times for air, he piled more stones on top. Finally, when his hands were so cold even large rocks were slipping out of them, he stopped. The water in the pool had risen nearly to his neck. Now his only hope was for the water to rise fast enough that he would still have some strength left to climb the passage in the ceiling.
Back at the top of the pile, he clapped his hands and slapped his arms on his chest to keep warm. Already the water had risen two-thirds of the way up the fallen stone, the thunder of the waterfall lightening as the pool rose. He tried not to think about how horrible things must be for Hubley while he waited. Sissit prodding her in the darkness, their lips smacking as they talked about munching her legs and arms; better to assume Ferris and Mims had already saved her. Turning his mind to something else, he thought about Brizen’s and Wellin’s son. His son. Mims had told him how the people of Banking and Wayland loved Prince Merannon even more than they loved his parents, which was hard to imagine. He only hoped Merannon wouldn’t hold his attack at the Malmoret Lamp against him. Even if Avender still planned to keep the secret to himself, trying to cut off the prince’s hand was hardly the best way to meet his long lost son.
The water rose to his knees. Climbing faster as it approached the roof, the surface was soon above his hips. Already the front of the cave was completely submerged. Shadows rippled against the ceiling as small waves rocked the surface of the pool.
Filling his knapsack with air, Avender turned it upside down to use as a float. At least the pool was rising quickly enough he didn’t think he would have to tread water long. Waves chilled his chest. A last few stones skittered beneath his feet as the dark water swirled up and over his chin.
Kicking out from the wall, he swam till he was under the high point of the roof. The weight of his boots threatened to drag him down, but he was a strong swimmer and the pack helped. Soon he was grasping the edge of the overhang. His head scraped the ceiling, so he ducked down beneath the water, the cold embracing him from head to toe, and swam to a spot with more room.
Surfacing, he found himself directly beneath the hole. He could see a little further into it now, but still couldn’t tell how far it went. Deciding there wasn’t enough room in the passage for both him and his knapsack, he kicked it off into the cold darkness. Without the pack, staying afloat was much harder; his arms and legs felt heavy as blocks of ice. But, if he didn’t keep himself under the center of the opening, he was likely to be smashed against the rock. And what if the hole was too small? If his shoulders didn’t fit, he was likely to get stuck like a mouse in a drainpipe.
The hole rushed toward him. As fast as the water was going, there would be no need to climb. Grasping his thimble with his right hand, he dropped his arms in front of him and narrowed his shoulders. With one last deep breath, he shot up into the opening. Water rushed past his face, surging bubbles tickling his eyes and nose. He was reminded of how Silverback had carried him out of the rookery the last time someone had tried to drown him, and how he’d thought he’d never make it to the surface then either. Hopefully his lungful of air would be enough to carry him to the top of the tube. Clamping his jaw shut as tightly as he could, he held on.
His head burst above the surface. Wet rock gleamed in front of his face, then disappeared back into the foaming water as he sank back down. Bracing himself with his legs, he scrabbled to bring his nose and mouth back above the surface. His grip held. The water stopped rising. For a long time he clung to the stone, gasping for breath. His chest ached even more than his frozen fingers and toes, but it seemed he had gone as far as the water would take him.
He looked up. Tunnel darkness stretched above. Somewhere at the other end of the stream, perhaps at the cave where the sissit had attacked him, the water had risen high enough to find a new way down. Which meant it had taken him as far as it was going to here. Now he had to climb.
Carefully he worked his hands up along the rock till they were in front of his face. Though the stone was rough, his fingers felt no handholds. They were just too numb. He found, however, that by pressing his forearms and knees against the stone in front of him, and his back against the wall behind, he could inch his way upwards.
He concentrated on nothing else. Water poured off him. His jacket ripped at the elbows and along the back; the knees of his trousers shredded. His skin was probably shredding too, but he was still too numb to feel it. The Living Stone would heal his cuts soon enough anyway, whether or not he made it to the top of the tunnel.
The passage curved. With a sigh of relief, Avender rolled onto his stomach. After that it was a much easier climb. He could even rest occasionally, his legs braced against the sides of the passage. Eventually he reached a place where he could stand and walk until the tunnel narrowed again and he had to crawl forward on hands and knees.
He came to another cave. After staring at it for some time, he realized he was back at the place where the sissit had attacked him, in one of the openings above the stream. Although he still had a long way to go to find Hubley, a wave of relief washed over him. At least he knew where he was again.
He looked for a way down. As he had guessed, the river was higher than it had been before. The stepping stones had disappeared, and a steady stream poured over the lip of the passage through which he and Hubley had arrived. By a combination of weary climbing and sliding he lowered himself to the passage he had originally intended to cross to on the other side.
“So,” said a voice. “You’re not dead after all.”
Two more lamps joined Avender’s, one in the passage and the other on the far side of the swollen stream.
Avender recognized the Dwarf on his side first. “Findle!”
The Dwarf stepped closer, his sword at Avender’s chest. “You know me?”
Unlike his brothers, Findle was slender enough to resemble a short human, if you ignored the full beard and shaggy eyebrows.
“Of course I know you,” answered Avender. “Don’t you recognize me?”
The Dwarf called across to his companion on the other side of the stream. “It’s like Albwin says, Merannon. He does look like Avender. But not enough to convince me that’s who he is.”
“I can hardly imagine Fornoch going to all the trouble of creating a double without making the copy exact.”
Avender recognized Prince Merannon as the other man splashed across the stream. Filthy though he was, he still looked very much like his mother.
“I’m Avender. Not a copy.”
“Can you prove it?” asked the prince.
“There isn’t enough time. Have you seen Ferris?”
Merannon frowned suspiciously. “Ferris? Why would she be here?”
“Hubley and I were going to meet her.” Avender saw no need to mention Mims yet. Explaining who she was would take too much time. “That’s why I brought Hubley.”
“You were bringing the child to her mother?”
“That’s right.”
Findle pointed back up the tunnel. “We found her footprints there. We’d have been after them already if we hadn’t noticed your light. They’re already more than an hour ahead.”
The prince turned to the Dwarf. “Do you think we can trust him?”
“Either we take him with us,” said Findle, “or we have to kill him here.”
“No need for hasty judgment. The situation with Reiffen is quite complicated. If you really are Avender, sir, my father will want very much to see you.”
Avender was struck again by how much Merannon looked like his mother. The same blond hair and blue eyes, on a face that was almost too pretty for a man. Perhaps if he saw the prince in broad daylight he’d find something of himself in him as well.
They set off with Findle in front and the prince guarding Avender from the rear. As the Dwarf led them along the sissit’s trail, Merannon explained how, after Avender had gotten away, he had called his father for suggestions about what to do next. His father had sent his court magician to the Malmoret Lamp, and then she and Merannon had traveled on to Issinlough. There it had been an easy matter to persuade the Dwarves to lend him their fastest airship. Trier, who turned out to be the court magician, would have been no use on an airship, so Merannon had brought Findle instead.
“How’d you think to come to Backford?” asked Avender.
“It’s what I would have done,” replied the prince. “After Malmoret, Backford is the place you and Hubley know best. You have friends there. Had I been thinking more clearly, I would have called Trier while we were still pursuing you on the Malmoret Way. Then again, I had no idea she had been to the Lamp before and could travel there at will. We would have cut you off before you could escape, if I had.”
“Just as well you didn’t.” Avender stooped as they hurried along under the tunnel’s low ceiling. “Reiffen would have killed me and taken Hubley straight back to Grangore.”
He told his own story then, or at least part of it, about how Reiffen had buried him at the bottom of the castle until a magician named Mims had dug him up, given him back his hand, and set him the task of rescuing Hubley. How Hubley had then managed to remember the traveling spell at the worst possible time, which had left him scrambling to keep her out of her father’s hands until they could meet with Mims, who had gone to fetch Ferris.
“But who is Mims?” asked Merannon. “I know no magician by that name.”
“I’ve no idea who she is,” Avender lied, “or where she comes from. But one thing’s sure, if she’s not as powerful as Reiffen, she’s close.”
“Could she be Fornoch?” suggested the prince. “The Wizard has been known to take other forms before.”
“Even if she was, I’d still have helped her rescue Hubley. You and I both know that what Reiffen’s been doing to that child all these years is wrong. Not to mention what he did to me. The man’s as bad as a Wizard.”
“Do not say such a thing,” Merannon cautioned. “No one is as bad as a Wizard. He could have killed you, but chose to keep you alive for some reason instead. This would not be the first time Reiffen’s choices have turned out better than expected. You should know that better than anyone.”
Merannon might look like his mother, but he sounded exactly like Brizen. “Which is why you need to listen to me,” Avender told him, “when I say this time he’s gone too far.”
They hurried on. Avender kept hoping to meet Ferris and Mims along the way, but they had no such luck. For a while there was only the one passage to follow, and they made excellent progress, but eventually they came to a spot where another tunnel crossed their path. Motioning for the humans to be still, Findle pressed his bare toes against the rock like a stubby hound nosing at a trail and felt for the faintest echo of footsteps in the stone.
“That way,” he said, pointing to the right.
They encountered two more turnings, with Findle feeling for the sissit at each one. Avender believed they were still moving much faster than their quarry, and was glad they found no sign the sissit had stopped to eat. The only question now was how hungry the creatures would be by the time they reached their den.
Arriving at a stream, they splashed up its course to a cave with a small pool. A waterfall veiled the far end, its thin mist drifting through the pale lamplight. Without hesitating, Findle strode straight up to the glittering curtain and disappeared through to the other side.
The prince motioned for Avender to follow. “Were it merely a question of bravery,” he said, “I would go first. But until you have proven we can trust you, I must insist you lead the way.”
Beyond the waterfall the passage became low enough that even Findle had to crawl. Not much farther, they ran into a flat stone blocking the way. Pushing up beside the Dwarf, Avender reached for possible handholds to shove it out of the way. Stony fingers circled his wrist.
“Don’t touch. Someone may be listening on the other side.”
“We’ll have to touch it, if we want to get it open.”
“Not with our hands, we won’t.”
Unhooking his pack from his shoulders, Findle pulled out a small sack. Silently he removed a long spike and a heavy, short-handled hammer, then studied the rock. The surface was flat but not smooth. Neither Avender nor Prince Merannon saw anything different about any part of the stone, but then they weren’t Dwarves.
“You’d better cover your eyes,” said Findle as he raised hammer and spike to strike. “I rarely cut stone as cleanly as my brothers.”
The humans turned their backs and did as they were told. The passage erupted in a ringing explosion; gravel peppered their shoulders. When it stopped, Avender and the prince found Findle already leaping into the cave beyond. Startled sissit rolled around in the dust-filled dimness, shouting in dismay.
“Findle!” Avender heard Hubley’s glad cry as he and Merannon followed the Dwarf inside.
“Stoneboys! Get ‘em, Obo!”
The largest sissit Avender had ever seen lumbered up to the front of the cave. Findle drove his sword deep into the creature’s flabby chest. But a stroke that would have felled a spitting mander had no effect at all on the massive sissit. With one meaty hand the giant grabbed Findle by the throat and tossed him back across the rubble of the broken door.
Knowing the Dwarf could take care of himself, Avender tried to go around the giant in order to reach Hubley, who was struggling in a normal-sized sissit’s arms on the far side of the cave. But the giant was quicker than he looked, and Avender found himself dodging its clumsy attempts to grab him instead. Snatching up their clubs, two other sissit attacked Findle and the prince, who cut both the creatures down with the first flash of their swords.
“There’s no fightin’ Stoneboys!” cried the sissit holding Hubley. “Everybody out the back door. Obo, hold ‘em as long as you can before you come after us!”
Pushing Hubley through a hole in the middle of the floor, the sissit chief jumped in behind her. Avender lunged after them, but another swing of the giant’s huge fists forced him away from the hole. Merannon tried the same thing on the other side with no better luck. The sissit had arms long enough to reach either side of the cave.
Three more sissit followed Hubley and their leader down the bolt hole, the last scuttling sideways like a crab. Merannon skewered a fourth as he tried to follow, then jumped back out of the way of another swipe of the enormous swinging arms.
With no more normal-sized sissit left in the cave, Findle and Merannon advanced on the giant at the same time. Avender, lacking a sword, could do little more than throw rocks. But the sissit, instead of fighting them, took a quick step backward, turned, and followed his companions down the hole.
Only he didn’t. Like a cork in a wine bottle, he stuck fast about halfway down. Utter confusion wrinkled the flabby flesh around his tiny eyes.
Darting forward, Findle stabbed the giant deeply in the chest a second time, then leapt out of the way. Blood trickled down the creature’s pale skin to match the Dwarf’s first strike, but neither wound looked particularly severe.
Hands on hips, Findle stepped back and studied the chubby thing. “By Inach,” he complained, “how do I kill you?”
The giant sissit shrugged. “I dunno. Nobody ever done it.”
“Your heart should be right here.” As he spoke, Findle drove his sword deep into doughy flesh once more. The sissit only grunted, not bothering to try and catch his opponent this time.
“Maybe he lacks that particular organ,” observed Merannon.
“The question is,” said Avender, “if we can’t kill him, how are we going to get down the hole?”
“Oh, you don’t have to go this way.” Despite his predicament, the sissit didn’t seem afraid of his enemies at all. “There’s other ways down to the fish.”
“Fish?” Merannon, who was barely as tall as the giant even with the creature stuck to his waist in the floor, cocked his head curiously.
“You, know. Fish.” One of the sissit’s long arms flopped across the stone. Merannon and Findle took cautious steps backward, but there was no need. Grabbing the nearest pile of garbage, the giant waved a fish head in the air. “See? Fish.”
“There must be a pool below,” said Avender, guessing at the sissit’s meaning.
The creature nodded, then shoved the snack into his mouth. Loud crunching filled the cave.
“How do we get there?”
The sissit pointed toward the front door as he chewed and swallowed. “Follow th’ water. That’s what I do.”
Stepping over the bodies of two dead sissit, Avender started for the door.
“What about him?” Findle jerked his head toward the giant.
“Leave him,” said Merannon. “It is Hubley we are after.”
“Ya just gonna leave me here?”
The large sissit’s look of confusion deepened into mournful alarm. His long arms pushed nervously at the floor, but he remained stuck fast.
“You don’t expect us to set you free, do you?” said the prince.
“If we weren’t in such a hurry,” added Findle, “you wouldn’t be alive.”
They left the giant doggedly trying to squeeze out of his trap. Splashing through the waterfall and around the edges of the pool, they followed the stream back into the twisting tunnels.
It wasn’t an easy trip. By the time they had crawled through a third damp passage, wondering how the giant had ever been able to pass this way, the three of them had realized the other sissit must be long gone from wherever the hole in the floor had led. Cold, and soaked to the skin, the weary rescuers at last came to the top of another pool, the stream pouring out beneath their feet in another short cascade. The thin light of their lamps swept from side to side, revealing nothing but dark, wet rock and a hole in the ceiling.
Findle pointed toward a shallow shelf of rock running up to a tunnel on the other side. “That’s the only other way out.”
They set off once more, following the sissit down. Only when they reached a window at the bottom of the world and saw the Lamp did anyone realize what the creatures were up to.
“If they get to the airships before we do,” said Merannon, “we will never catch them.”
They all but sprinted the last stretch of tunnel. The only thing holding Avender and Merannon back was that Findle couldn’t run as fast as they could, and Findle had to lead. Bursting into the cave at the top of the unneret, they paused at the lip of the well to check what was happening below. Outlined against the dark gray glow of the Lamp, five figures clambered around the two airships. One sawed frantically at the mooring rope of the smaller craft, while the other four were already climbing into the one Hubley and Avender had brought from Malmoret.
“Good,” said Findle. “They’re taking the slower ship.”
“They’re taking both.” Grimly Avender leaped for the ladder that led down the side of the tower. “If we don’t hold on to at least one, we may never find Hubley again.”
Feet flying from rung to rung, Avender descended as fast as he could. Findle followed, while Merannon brought up the rear. At the sight of them, the sissit gave up their attempt to steal both ships. The mooring rope of Merannon’s craft parted; the creature who had cut it loose kicked it away with one clumsy leg, then scuttled across the unneret like a spider on its web as another of the creatures slashed the closer ship free. Not wanting to be left behind, the one on the tower jumped, but missed his target completely. With a long, dying cry, he vanished into the darkness. The airship, which had been dangling steeply at the end of its tether, followed him down, but much more slowly.
“Idiots,” scoffed Findle. “They’ve overloaded the ship completely. It’ll never fly.”
“Can we catch them?” asked Avender.
“Only if they figure out how to operate the ballast. Knowing sissit, they’re just as likely to open the balloons as the water cocks.”
“Can we catch them with the other ship if they get it wrong?” Avender glanced at the other craft as it floated serenely up toward the bottom of the world, just out of reach. It might take a while to reel it back in, by which time the bigger ship might be long gone.
“If they don’t get too far away,” answered the Dwarf. “But we can only go so deep without bleeding gas, and if we bleed gas we can’t come back. At least not all of us.”
“Then I guess one of us has to get on that ship down there and make sure no one opens the gas.”
Findle measured the distance to the falling craft with his eyes, then flexed his knees. “Easy as cracking stone.”
“No.” Avender shook his head. “Your ship’s already floated too far away for Merannon or me to get to it. You’ll have to crawl across the ceiling. I’ll make the jump.”
His heart pounded. Already the leap was longer than he liked, six or seven fathoms at least. Longer than any cliff he had ever jumped off in Valing as a child. And he might very well break a leg on the landing, if he managed to hit the ship at all. But the ship was sinking, and would give a little when he landed, so at least he had a chance.
“Don’t.” Findle lowered himself onto the strut beside Avender.
“It’s the only way.”
“You might miss. I’ll throw you.”
“All right. But you have to do it now.”
The Dwarf grabbed Avender below the shoulders as Merannon joined them. “What in the world?”
Avender held out his hand. “Give me your sword.”
The prince obeyed. Like a gambler pitching coppers, the Dwarf hurled Avender into the Abyss.