The Hundred: Fall of the Wents (33 page)

“Good luck,” said Hatch dryly. “Even if you make it through the snow and the cold, by the time you reach it the thing will have been done. If the Shrike-Grout has been called, so will the Wents have been. They are on the move and gathering.”

“We can’t go by land,” said Tully suddenly. “But we can go by water.”

“Not possible,” said Copernicus.

“Even I won’t dare that river,” assented Aarvord.

“But what about that craft?” said Tully. “The Bathysphere, inside the cave? It is connected to the sea.”

“It could be connected to a lake, with no escape,” said Copernicus doubtfully. Of all things, he did not want to go back into that hole! Not when Pomplemys might be waiting with his glass jar, ready to thrust them into one of his hot fires—not to mention that great dark eye they had seen beyond the glass dome.

“No lake,” said Tully. “There were things beyond that glass that live only in salt water. I know. Those phosphorescent fish don’t live in any lakes I have ever known. Besides, I could feel the sea beyond those walls. I could feel its pull.”

Of all beings, they knew that Efts were most closely akin to water and, so, they had to trust Tully’s judgement.

“If this is our plan, then let’s not hesitate!” shouted Aarvord, blowing a plume of snow off his brow with the exhalation of his words. “We came to save the Wents. Let’s save them, then.”

With reluctance they turned away from the river and trudged back the way they had come. What hour of the day it might have been they didn’t know, but it seemed that somewhere above the grey and overcast sky, the sun was still high.

Tully was grateful that they had noted the little fir tree as the entrance to the tunnel. They went back in, realizing that at least they would be out of the cold and wind. Still, the tunnel seemed shockingly dark. Aarvord lit the appendage from his brow and flooded it with light. So far, at least, there was nothing waiting for them there.

They traveled in single file, Aarvord in the lead to light the way. He was followed by Tully with Copernicus slung around his neck, a constant companion that comforted the Eft. Fangor had also opted to ride with Tully and was perched in one of his fluffy antennae. Hatch marched alone at the rear, feeling strangely put out that the Sand Louse had rejected him so quickly for his former companions. He had grown used to the light and relentless chatter of Fangor and, without it, his thoughts turned dark and morbid. These creatures were not really his friends. In fact, they despised him. Fangor alone had believed in him. Alone, without his pod of like souls, he was an outcast, and forever would be an outcast. The masters that had spoken to him along with his fellows had gone silent.

As they moved along, Hatch began to fall back. Perhaps, if the time was right, he would silently turn back and abandon them. They didn’t need him anyway. He would go away somewhere and die. He was not needed. Then, after a while, he smelled a sharp and metallic scent—an odor of evil itself. Hatch knew immediately what it was, and he could not help but call out a warning.

“Bonedogs!” Hatch shrieked, but the others were around the next bend in the tunnel already, and did not hear his cry. The light from Aarvord had vanished completely, and Hatch was alone in the darkness. Were the Bonedogs ahead of him or behind him? The smell seemed to be everywhere.

The Shrike still had one of the heat-candles that he had stolen from the stronghold
hidden in his feathers and, as he lit it, it gave a warm glow and a pleasing light. He looked around, but could not see the Bonedogs. Yet he could hear them begin to make the curious clacking and chittering noise that was their signature hunting sound.

In the stronghold, Bonedogs were kept as hunting dogs for escaped prisoners and invaders, and the Shrikes had controlled them easily. They were specially bred for the purpose. The Shrikes had replaced the emerald beetles that usually served as their symbiotic eyes with sharp-eyed Lesser Beetles, which were easier to command and would abandon their hosts at a moment’s notice if the Shrikes wished it, leaving the Bonedogs powerless. Some of the Bonedogs had their eyes entirely stolen, and were used for eating waste and other simple tasks.

But these Bonedogs did not belong to the Shrikes. Hatch slowly gazed upward and he could see that they clung to the roof above him in great shuffling sheaves, their clacking mandibles moving as if to taste the air. The light from the heat-candle caught the eyes of the emerald beetles clustered on their shells, and one hundred green eyes gleamed at him in the darkness.

Hatch flew then, without benefit of a rise or a promontory to give him the air beneath his feathers. Fear compelled him. His wings buffeted the sides of the tunnel as he curved around the next bend, gaining speed as he went. The heat-candle dropped to the floor of the tunnel, as he needed every lithe and feathered finger to propel himself forward. Like a bat he flew on, calling out “Bonedogs! Bonedogs!” in a harsh cry. He flew pell-mell down the dark runway and plowed into Tully’s back, driving the Eft to his hands and knees. Fangor popped right off Tully’s antennae and bounced directly and safely into Aarvord’s big, lank ear, causing the Grout to murmur in irritation. The light from his appendage swung wildly and cast the tunnel into dancing shadows. Then they turned and could see the host of Bonedogs skittering along the ceiling. Some scuttled
down the sides of the tunnel, found the floor, and righted themselves. The whole tunnel seethed with them.

“They don’t like bright light,” gasped Tully. He could feel Copernicus’ heartbeat strong against his neck.

Aarvord heard him, and cast his light in a wide arc through the tunnel. The creatures paused, clacking angrily. He could hold them this way, but once he turned and ran they would be on the group again. Hatch, shaking with the fear and exultation of his flight, crawled over the rough stones to where he could stand behind Aarvord, the source of the great light.

“I might have thought that Pomplemys would have such slaves,” hissed Copernicus, finally able to speak.

Fangor had emerged from Aarvord’s ear and was peering this way and that for an escape route. He saw a dark portal ahead and he, like Tully, could smell the sea.

“We are close!” squeaked the Sand L
ouse. “The baffyspear! The thing you said! We have to get in that door.”

They all backed away slowly, Aarvord training his light upon the dreadful Bonedogs that twitched and clustered above and before them. The emerald beetles atop their shells had begun to angrily clack and shuffle about, for it was not the beetles that were afraid of light. The Bonedogs, blind as they were, had some vestigial memory of strong light that pained them, and they would not move in its presence. Eventually the beetles would have their way and the Bonedogs would overcome their natural repulsion. Wh
en that happened they would be doomed, for the bite of a Bonedog led to a slow and remorseless death.

They reached the cavern where the Bathysphere waited. Tully looked frantically for a way to seal the sea-doors. Copernicus was the one who saw the panel, as he had his head trained upwards to search. He called out. It was too high for the Eft to reach, and even too high for Aarvord.

“Blast that Pomplemys!” roared the Grout. “He is as puny as any I’ve seen, and yet he built this wretched contraption.”

“Hold me there,” called Copernicus, as struck with fear as he was. He could hear the chitter of the Bonedogs just outside the door. “You there, and then me.” Hatch understood immediately. Hatch caught Copernicus by his tail and flew atop Aarvord’s shoulders in a quick burst. Copernicus stiffened himself as straight as a stick. (The effort was enormous, as the snake’s body was not
designed to be held in this position.) Hatch reached forward as high as he could muster and Copernicus’ nose touched a button on the control panel.

For a moment, nothing happened. The first Bonedog was already into the doorway, and others would follow in an instant. Then, with a whisking susurration, the doors began to close. The Bonedog within was pinioned, and its skin gave a great crunching sound. In a moment the Bonedog was severed in two—its forward parts and mandibles twitching on the floor before them.

Tully stepped back in disgust and horror. The emerald beetles that had made their home on the Bonedog’s carapace leapt off, immediately abandoning their host. Tully fully expected them to attack his band with poisonous bites, but, without their hosts, the beetles were lost. They wandered aimlessly over the stone floor, as if looking for another Bonedog to take them.

Hatch landed on the floor with the now-limp Copernicus draped over his shoulder. Aarvord stepped on one of the beetles with a massive, webbed paw.

“Useless things,” he said. Tully was once again struck by how cruel and violent his once-merry friend had become. Of all the things he had given up and lost on this journey, the loss of the Aarvord he had once known was the most painful. But he could not think of this now. Aarvord was still an ally, and the strongest one he had.

The three who had been here before gazed with trepidation at the ladder above them. Pomplemys had set his hunting dogs after them, and he might know that they had been foiled. What would come down that ladder?

They had to find a way inside the Bathysphere. They all began to probe and touch its sides, seeking an access point. The group was aware that time was passing, and they had no way of knowing how far the craft had to travel before it reached the place called The Jaws. Fear of Pomplemys and of missing their opportunity made them careless and nervous, and no one could find a way to open the craft.

It was Fangor who finally found the entryway, as he had hopped atop the craft from Aarvord’s ear to investigate. There was a simple hatchway, closed tight by a lever. It had not been used in some time, for the lever was almost impossible to shift despite the dual efforts of Tully and Hatch. Even Copernicus tried to assist by wrapping his tail around the end of the lever. He slipped and slithered on the smooth surface of the Bathysphere, but his efforts were in vain.

Aarvord finally produced some thick, viscous oil from the tip of one of his long fingers and dabbed it on the joint of the apparatus; then he cranked it open with force, flinging open the hatch. They all took turns to drop down into the craft and to look around. The air inside was stale and smelled of dust and abandonment. Tully found a stash of pale, thick wafers in a crate and passed them around to all those who were hungry; Hatch took one, although he did not know quite what to do with it. He bit into it gingerly and found that he could choke it down. It was stale, but perhaps it would feed him. Despite the poor taste, the wafers were nourishing and gave them the strength to go on.

Aarvord took charge at once, flipping dials and switches as if the Bathysphere were an extension of his own body. Fantastic Grouts, owing to their ability to manufacture tools from their own bodies, were clever with machinery. They were second to only the Boring Bees in the art of construction, and their minds were quick to grasp how something worked. Aarvord was no exception.

The craft began to hum softly and lights flared on all along the control panel. There were two seats, and Tully took one and Aarvord the other. Copernicus and Fangor tucked themselves up in the domed front window, marveling at the watery mysteries that lay beyond the glass, while Hatch settled himself on the floor. It would have been cramped if they had been a party of much larger creatures but, as it was, they were perfectly comfortable. Tully was profoundly grateful that his friends all had skills and sizes that were suited to this mission. It was a lucky accident, for the Council had not thought much of his companions. Would that the Council had given him a better course than the one he had followed, he thought ruefully. They had given him not much more than a rhyme that he kept sharp in his memory:
When the rock is split asunder, The Hundred will awake….”
Soon, this prophecy would become truth, unless they could stop it.

Aarvord had systematically examined every button, dial, and lever. He reached up and closed the hatch above them, sealing it tightly.

“I believe I know how to set us out,” he said. “Are we ready?”

They all nodded.

They heard a hollow clanking noise, which sounded as if it came from far away, and Tully glanced quickly at Aarvord to see if he had started the process that would release the Bathysphere from its cave. But no, Aarvord was also listening to the ominous sound, his great ears ballooning outward in consternation. Fangor, whose tiny ears were better than anyone’s, hopped up and down and bounced onto the control panel.

“The ladder,” squeaked the Sand L
ouse. “Something is coming down. Oh, quick! Get us out of here!”

They turned to look through the rear window of the craft, on the side that faced away from the water and into the cave. There was Pomplemys, looking swollen with fury. The anguish of discovering Snell’s death had transformed his features, so that he no longer bore any of his former false grandfatherly aspect. He had been mad before, but now his madness was more than evident on his face. His mouth twitched, and one eye bulged and rolled to the side. The remaining good eye was fixed on Tully’s face. He shouted something, but his voice was too muffled through the glass to hear clearly.

“Quickly, quickly!” said Fangor again.

Pomplemys turned to the control panel that operated the door to the tunnel outside and, with a gesture from his fingers, the doors sprang open. The Bonedogs that had been waiting outside the door clambered in, clustering over the surface of the Bathysphere with an awful haste. Their claws made horrid scratching noises on the surface, and several of them darkened the front window so that the image of the sea beyond was obscured.