The Emerald Atlas (15 page)

The moment the door shut, Emma turned to Michael.

“It’s your fault he won’t take us.”

“What?”

“He hates know-it-alls. He told me this morning after he killed that deer. He said, ‘I really hate know-it-alls.’ ”

“Right, I’m sure he said that.”

“Quiet!” Kate hissed. “We have to make him take us. He said this wisewoman will know about the book. Maybe she even knows where it is. We’ve gotta find it before the Countess does. That’s the only way we’re ever going to get home.” Kate paused. She’d just had a horrible thought. “Emma, you still have the photo, right? The one to get us back?”

For several stomach-churning moments, they watched Emma dig in her pockets.

Finally, she pulled out the photo. It was creased down the center and bent at one corner, and a bit of pink gum was stuck to the back, but there was Kate, sitting in their bedroom, looking out at them from the future.

The children released a silent, collective sigh.

“Emma,” Kate said gently, “maybe I should hold on to it.”

“Yes, please,” Michael muttered.

“Fine.” Emma pulled off the gum and handed her sister the photo. Smoothing it out as much as possible, Kate tucked it into the inner pocket of her jacket.

“Returning to the matter at hand,” Michael said, “how’re we gonna get him to take us?”

As it turned out, this particular problem solved itself, for just then they heard pounding footsteps, the door slammed open, and Gabriel rushed in and said, “We’re leaving. Now.”

Before the children could even begin to wonder what had changed his mind, the cry of a Screecher echoed up the valley.

“Twenty of them,” Gabriel said as he took down a long, canvas-wrapped object that had been tucked among the rafters. “They will be here in three minutes.”

“What’re we going to do?” Michael asked. “How’re we going to get out?”

“We’ll fight our way out,” Emma said, her voice full of passionate anger. “Won’t we, Gabriel?”

But he had gone to the fireplace, and now he put his hand against a stone and pushed. Very slowly, with a rough rock-on-rock scraping, the entire hearth swiveled, exposing a dark passage leading straight back into the mountain.

“This way,” he said.

CHAPTER TEN
The Maze

Once in the passageway, the man ordered Kate, Michael, and Emma to stay exactly where they were. Then he pushed the hearth back into place with a dull
thrudd
. The children stood there in the darkness, breathing stale air, listening to Gabriel move about. He struck a match and used it to light two battered gas lanterns that had been hanging on the wall. He gave one to Kate.

“Where are we?” she asked.

With the shadows from the lamp playing over his scar, Gabriel looked more fearsome than ever.

“We are in the place where you are quiet and do as I say. Come.”

He turned and headed down the passage.

They arrived at a set of jagged stairs, at the bottom of which was an iron door with a series of bolts and locks. Gabriel opened it, ushered the children through, and then closed and locked the door behind them. They were now in a different tunnel. It was wide and had rough-looking walls. Two iron rails ran down the center of the floor.

After they’d been walking for perhaps fifteen minutes, Kate ventured again, “So really, where are we?”

For a moment, she thought the man simply wasn’t going to answer. Then he said, “One of the old mining tunnels used by the town. It will lead us through the mountain to the valley where my village lies.”

They kept on, Gabriel and Emma in front (the tunnel was wide enough to walk two abreast) and Kate and Michael following. Back in the cabin, when she’d told her brother and sister her plan for getting them home, Kate had tried to sound confident. But in her heart, she suspected that even if Gabriel’s wisewoman could tell them something useful, the chances of the three of them finding the book before the Countess and all her Screechers were slim indeed.

As they walked, Gabriel surprised Kate by beginning to speak. He told them about the mountains, how they were full of deep, old magic and as such had to be respected. He said that the men of Cambridge Falls had always known there were places one did not dig, things one did not dare disturb. Such as the
hannudin
—hope killers, they were called—half-alive ghouls who came up behind you in the darkness and whispered that all the worst thoughts you ever had were true: your friends were disloyal, your wife did not love you, your children would grow to hate your name. Men would blow out their lamps and sit down in the darkness to be found months or years later, having starved to death on the spot. There were the
salmac-tar
, an ancient race, little more than beasts, who had supposedly given birth to goblins ages ago and lived down deep below the roots of the mountains. They had no eyes but huge, bat-like ears, and they moved around making clicking noises, listening to the sounds echo off the rock walls, their razor-sharp teeth and claws able to cut through iron and bone.

“But even such creatures,” Gabriel said, “are part of the balance. It was different when the witch came; everything changed.”

He fell silent, and for a while there was only the crunch of their footsteps along the gravel floor. Kate found herself thinking about the twenty
morum cadi
the man had seen in the valley. She imagined them tearing apart the cabin, finding the secret door behind the hearth, then pouring one after another into the tunnel, their yellow eyes scouring the darkness.…

She knew this kind of thinking wasn’t helpful, but she couldn’t stop herself. What finally brought her back was Gabriel; he was speaking again, describing something as a pair of invisible hands reaching into your chest and crushing your heart and lungs. He was describing, Kate realized, the shriek of a Screecher.

“But it is an illusion,” he said. “The pain comes entirely from your mind.”

“What?!” The suddenness of her anger surprised her. “You’re saying we imagined it?! That all those kids at the dam imagined it?!”

“I did not say that,” the man corrected. “The scream creates panic and fear in your mind. So great is the fear that your body begins to shut down. That is the pain you feel. It is real, but it comes from your mind.”

“So how do you stop it?” Michael asked.

“By killing Screechers,” Emma said. “Obviously.”

“Accept the scream has no physical power to hurt you,” Gabriel explained. “Then learn to manage your fear. That is the only way.” He added, “Besides killing them.”

Kate thought of telling the man that it was probably a lot easier to “manage your fear” when you were a sword-wielding, wolf-killing giant, but Michael was already scribbling in his journal, murmuring, “Manage … fear,” and she let it go. Instead, she asked the question that had been troubling her since the night before:

“Do you know if there’s someone else? Besides the Countess. We heard her say something about her master.”

“That’s right,” Michael said. “She and the Secretary, they both said it. I have it in my notes.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I have not heard of any master. We will ask the wisewoman. It is possible she—”

He stopped and turned, staring back down the passage. Everything about him was alert and tingling. Kate peered into the darkness, but the tunnel was as silent and still as a tomb.

“Maybe it’s one of those goblin-bat things,” Michael whispered.

“Quiet.” Gabriel handed his lantern to Emma and unwrapped the length of canvas. It was not, as Kate had suspected, a sword. What appeared was more like an extremely large machete. The blade was slender near the handle, then expanded as it lengthened so that the end was very wide indeed. It was made of some dark metal, and the edge gleamed in the lamplight.

Gabriel took a step forward.

Still, nothing moved.

Kate opened her mouth to ask what he thought he’d heard. Just as she did, the Screecher materialized out of the darkness. It made no sound at all but charged toward them, sword raised, yellow eyes glowing. Later, Kate would reflect that this was what had been most terrifying, for as awful as their screams were, at least they gave you time to run. Now, already, it was too late. She could only stand there and await the blow.

There was a loud, reverberating clang as Gabriel’s blade met the other’s, and the creature’s sword shattered. A moment later, the two halves of its body lay on the floor, hissing, an evil-smelling smoke rising from its corpse. Kate looked at Gabriel. His blade was smoking as well. He had sliced clean through the Screecher, sword, body, and all.

He said, “Run.”

They obeyed, running as they never had before. Through winding corridors, up stairs, down stairs, around blind corners, Gabriel always urging them faster and faster. The tunnel kept splitting, but he seemed to know where he was going, “Left … right … that passage there, go!” It wasn’t long before they heard the first scream. More soon joined it, the inhuman shrieking billowing down the narrow tunnels. Kate felt weakness sweep through her, and she almost stumbled. She glanced at Michael and Emma and saw they were struggling as well. She tried telling herself the pain was only in her mind, that the screams couldn’t hurt her, but it made no difference. She still felt as if she was running uphill with a stone upon her back.

And all the time, the screaming drew closer.

They emerged suddenly from one of the tunnels and found themselves at the edge of a huge underground chasm. They could see neither the ceiling nor the bottom—nor even the other side. A rope bridge extended out into the darkness and disappeared. The shrieking in the tunnels was louder than ever. The horde would be on them in moments.

“Go,” Gabriel commanded. “I will hold them as long as I can. Follow the tunnel at the other end of the bridge. You will come to a chamber. Take the second passage to the left. Keep going. Always choosing the second left. Once outside, you’ll find a trail that leads to my village. Stray at all, and you will be lost forever. Go now. I will catch up.”

“But—” Emma protested.

“Go! There’s no time!”

“Come on!” Kate seized Emma’s hand and pulled her onto the bridge. Michael was already running ahead. The bridge swung beneath them as their feet pounded on the wooden slats. Halfway across, Kate felt an icy draft rise up out of the darkness. The air had a cold, ancient dampness that made her skin crawl.

“Look!” Emma yelled.

Kate turned. Two Screechers had emerged from the tunnel behind them. As they charged, Gabriel moved forward to meet them. Blades flashed and rang. Gabriel ducked a blow, grabbed one of the creatures, and hurled it into the abyss. Its scream was swallowed by the blackness.

“Come on!” Kate cried, pulling at her sister’s hand. They ran the last twenty yards to where Michael was waiting. It was now too dark to see Gabriel on the other side. But more Screechers were apparently pouring out of the tunnel, as there were more cries and the clang of metal against metal was constant and furious. A deadly battle was taking place in utter darkness.

“We can’t leave him!” Emma cried, her eyes wild with desperation. “We have to do something!”

“There’s nothing we can do!” Kate said. “And he told us to go on, remember?”

“The entrance is right here!” Michael called.

Half dragging Emma, Kate led them down the passageway. Soon, the sounds of the battle had faded, and after a minute of hard running, they came to the chamber Gabriel had told them about. It was a large, circular, high-ceilinged room, with six identical doorways.

“We shouldn’t have left him!” Emma had pulled free from Kate, and there were tears of frustration and shame in her eyes. “He helped us, and we ran away like a bunch of cowards!”

“We didn’t have a choice!”

“That’s the doorway we want.” Michael pointed. “Second on the left.”

“Can we at least wait?” Emma pleaded. “Just for a second to see if he comes. Please, Kate. Just for a second.”

Kate looked at the tears running down her sister’s cheeks. She knew she should say no. They needed to put as much space between themselves and the Screechers as possible. She sighed. “Just for a second.”

Watching Emma turn and stare down the dark passageway, Kate envied her. Emma lived at the furthest reaches of her feelings. She loved and she hated and she didn’t constantly question the thousand possible consequences of every action. Kate knew if she let her, she’d be back in an instant to help Gabriel, even if it meant certain death.

Michael came up and coughed discreetly.

“You need to get better about saying no.”

“Okay, Michael.”

“I’m just saying because—”

Kate gave him a look, and he evidently got the message because he stepped away, murmuring something about the craftsmanship in the room being of a different level than the rest of the mine and he was going to examine this cornering over here.…

Kate decided they would wait another thirty seconds. Then she would make Emma come away, even if she had to drag her. Her gaze happened down one of the dark passages to her right.

The vision came without warning.

She saw a room lit with candles. Two figures sat at a wooden table. One was a man with long ginger hair, dressed in a dark cloak. The other was in shadow. A package wrapped in linen sat on the table between them. Kate knew it was the book.

From a long way off, Kate heard Michael telling Emma it really was time to go.

Kate took a step closer to the doorway, and the vision became stronger. She could hear that a deal was being struck. The shadowy figure was agreeing that he and his people would hide and protect the book.

In a voice like granite, he said, “We will build a vault.”

Before she knew what she was doing, Kate shouted, “Follow me!” and sprinted down the passage.

A voice in her head screamed in protest. She was disobeying Gabriel’s warning! They would all be lost forever! She had to stop, go back.…

But a stronger voice was saying that the book was out there, calling to her. And if she hesitated, if she paused to explain her vision to Michael and Emma, she would lose the connection, lose the book.…

So she ran, and from behind she heard shouts to stop, to wait, and then the sound of running feet.

She came to another room, identical to the first and with six more doors. She waited till the footsteps and cries of “Kate! Stop!” had almost reached her before plunging into another passage. Somehow she knew exactly where to go. She ran for five minutes, ten, fifteen, through a dozen identical rooms with identical doorways, each time pausing long enough for the footsteps behind her to almost catch up before diving through another door, trusting that her brother and sister could follow the glow of her lantern.

As she ran, she continued to have visions. She watched the vault taking shape deep below the mountain; she watched the ginger-haired man, the book open before him, moving his fingers over the blank pages so that words and images would appear and fade; she watched, finally, as he stepped into the finished vault and placed the book on a pedestal in the center.…

Kate stopped. Her chest was heaving. The passage had ended abruptly in a rock wall. This wasn’t right. She must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere. But how was that possible?

A hand seized her arm. Michael was bent over, gasping.

“Michael! This is it! I can—”