Kate stared into the ancient, glittering eyes and saw it all. She saw the centuries he’d waited. She saw how the world had changed about him and yet he’d never lost purpose. How could she fight such resolve? This was her fate. There was no escape.
From across the room, Dr. Pym said, “You cannot stay here.”
“Hmm?”
“Look at your hand.”
The creature called the Dire Magnus held up the Countess’s hand: to Kate’s shock, the knuckles were growing thick and knobby; veins were beginning to push against the pearl-white skin. The Dire Magnus seemed neither surprised nor particularly worried.
“Clever Stanislaus. You invite me here to defeat my own servant, knowing full well I cannot linger. You’ve lost none of your wit, my friend. No matter”—he looked at Kate—“I have seen what I needed to see.”
He turned then and picked up the book. He was aging quickly now, middle age, old age, and it was a bent-backed crone who shuffled across the cabin and offered the
Atlas
to Kate. The once-beautiful face was lost in wrinkles, the green hair was dry and patchy; smiling at Kate, he showed two rows of broken yellow teeth. His words were a hollow croak.
“The end is near, child. I will be coming for you. Our destinies are one. I will be coming, and when I find you, all the world will dance.…”
At these words, the creature departed; Kate felt his presence leave the room, and the Countess’s body dropped to the floor and didn’t move.
Dr. Pym staggered.
“Dr. Pym!”
“I’m fine, my dear. Simply the strain … He was pushing so hard.…”
“What happened to him?”
“The Dire Magnus cannot take form here. He must possess another, and the Countess … was too frail a host.… I will explain later.… We must hurry.… There is little time.… We …”
He collapsed. Kate ran to his side, and she was still shaking him and calling his name when she heard the explosion.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The Children of Cambridge Falls
Emma’s ears were ringing. Her ankle throbbed, and she was drenched, head to toe. All around her, huge jets of water streamed through cracks in the face of the dam. The sound was deafening. She looked but didn’t see the monster. Was it possible the explosion had killed it?
The dam groaned; more boards cracked and splintered.
“Gabriel! You gotta wake up! Gabriel!”
His eyes opened; he wasn’t dead.
Thank you, Emma thought, though it was unclear exactly who she was addressing, thank you thank you thank you.
Gabriel sat up, cradling his injured arm. “How did I get here?”
“You were fighting that monster; only he must’ve been fighting dirty or tricked you ’cause you fell on that.” She pointed to the catwalk above them. She thought for a moment and added, “But you bounced real hard and landed down here.” If he didn’t remember her pushing him off the catwalk, she saw no need to offer that information.
“The mines …”
“Yeah, one of them exploded! That monster was standing right beside it. We gotta get out a’ here! Come on!”
Limping, they set off down the catwalk. The river was pouring in, filling up the hollow center of the dam. By the time they reached the stairs, water was already splashing about their ankles. Emma knew that once the dam filled with water, the pressure would be too much: the whole thing would simply snap and wash away. Then anyone still on the Countess’s boat would die.
But Dr. Pym had to have rescued Kate and the others by now! What good was him being a wizard if he couldn’t do something as simple as get a bunch of kids off a boat!
She let her annoyance at Dr. Pym distract her from the pain in her ankle. It helped as she climbed the stairs. They were halfway to the door when Gabriel suddenly stopped.
“Gabriel, what’re you doing?! We—”
Then she saw it. The creature was climbing up through the ribs of the dam, jumping from one beam to another. Her heart sank. What did it take to kill that stupid thing?
“Your brother was right. It fears water.”
It took Emma a moment to understand what he meant and recall how, back in Gabriel’s cabin, two days and what felt like a lifetime ago, Michael had suggested the Countess was keeping the monster on the boat because it was afraid of water. And now, as a new crack opened in the front wall and a fresh jet blasted through, Emma watched the creature howl and spring clear of the water’s path.
But still, it continued to climb.
“We gotta hurry!” Emma shouted. “It’s gonna beat us to the door!”
Gabriel nodded and, with his good arm, hoisted Emma onto his shoulder. He took the stairs three at a time. The higher they went, the more the dam swayed and shuddered. Up they raced, amid the cracking and groaning, the thunderous pounding of the water, the sounds of timbers snapping, and as fast as Gabriel climbed, the monster kept pace. Again and again, it tried to move closer, but each time the dam splintered and a new jet of water forced it back.
Emma silently urged Gabriel to go faster.
Finally, they reached the top of the stairs, and Emma could see the door. Gabriel set her down. He was panting, and his clothes were soaked with fresh blood.
“Come on!” Emma cried. “We gotta hurry!”
“I am not going.”
“What’re you talking about? This thing’s gonna fall apart!”
“The creature cannot be allowed to escape. When the dam breaks, it must be inside. That is the only way to kill it.”
“So we’ll lock the door! We won’t let it out!”
Gabriel shook his head. “I must make sure.”
Emma was growing frantic, trembling on the verge of tears. There was another massive crack! The landing they stood on dropped two feet.
“No! You—That’s crazy! I won’t let you!”
Gabriel knelt so their faces were close together. “I must do this. Or every person this creature kills will be my responsibility. Life gives each of us tasks. This is mine.”
“But you … you …” She was crying freely now, but didn’t care. She had to make him see why what he was saying was so stupid, why he had to come with her, but for some reason, all she could manage was, “You can’t.… You can’t.…”
Gabriel placed his hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes.
“I do not know what happened with your parents or why they did what they did. But in all the world, I could have wished for no daughter but you.”
Sobbing, Emma threw herself around Gabriel’s neck. She told him she loved him, she would never let him go, she didn’t care what he said, she loved him.
“And I you. But you must go.” And he pulled her arms from around his neck and pushed her toward the stairs. “Go! Now!”
Shaking, hating herself with every step, Emma obeyed. Reaching the door, she looked back. Gabriel had turned to face the monster. He had no knife, no weapons, and as it sprang toward him, he leapt to meet it, grappling with the creature. Together, they plummeted into darkness.
Moments later, Emma was stumbling along the edge of the gorge, tears streaming down her face, repeating, over and over, “He’s Gabriel, he’ll be okay, he’s Gabriel, he’s Gabriel.…”
When Michael and the children reached the shore, they were met by a group of men and dwarves who’d come through the passage Dr. Pym had created.
“ ’Ere, pull that boat up!” called a familiar voice. “Look sharp now! Ah, blast ya, I’ll do it meself!”
King Robbie grabbed the stern of the boat and, with half a dozen men and dwarves leaping to help, hauled it onto land. As the men began lifting out the children, Michael finally released the oars. He’d never been so exhausted; pain arced across his back and shoulders, and he could scarcely raise his arms. He started out of the boat and promptly crashed face-first into the gravel shore.
“Come now, boy, you’re all done in!”
It was Wallace. He set Michael on his feet but continued to support him, clearly fearful he might topple over a second time. Robbie and Stephen McClattery’s father hurried up.
“There’re … more kids.”
“How many more, lad?” Robbie demanded. “Quick now.”
“Thirty … at least. And Dr. Pym and Kate. Dr. Pym took care of the Screechers. I don’t know about the Countess.”
More men and dwarves had gathered round.
“We’ve gotta go back for them!”
“Get the boat in the water!”
“Hold now!” Robbie shouted. “We all ’eard that explosion. And you can ’ear the dam creakin’ and groanin’ from ’ere. You won’t get ’alfway ’fore she bursts!”
“What’re we to do, then? Let our children die?”
“Course not. But we gotta use our ’eads! ’Ow we gonna get there and not get dragged down the gorge when the dam goes? There’s the question, blast it!”
Most of the men and a few of the dwarves began shouting at once, some offering ideas, some cursing the Countess, some saying they didn’t care if they were swept down the gorge, that those were their children on that boat; the arguing went on and on, with Robbie and Stephen McClattery’s father calling again and again for order.
Michael looked at the Countess’s boat, sitting there so still upon the dark lake. The dam gave off another mournful groan, like some great beast in pain.
And then it came to him. He saw how the whole thing would play out and that he was the only one who could save the children. He took off running down the shore.
“Oi! Lad!” Wallace yelled. “Where you going?”
But Michael just kept running.
Outside the Countess’s cabin, there were children screaming. Inside, Dr. Pym would not wake up. No matter how many times Kate shook him and called his name, he just lay there. Finally, throwing one last glance at the unmoving body of the Countess, she placed the book on Dr. Pym’s chest, grabbed him under the arms, and dragged him through the doorway, down a hall, and out onto the deck, apologizing each time she bumped his head. The deck was pandemonium.
Terrified children were running and screaming in all directions. Twice, Kate was knocked to the ground, and the child who’d collided with her got up, screamed, and ran off in the direction he had come. There were torches visible on both sides of the lake, and many of the children were standing on the railings, calling into the darkness for their mothers and fathers.
Kate stared about in confusion. How had the children gotten free? Where were the Countess’s Screechers? Had Dr. Pym done this? Even as she asked the questions, she realized that none of them mattered. The only thing that mattered was how she was going to get all these children off the boat.
“Hey!” Stephen McClattery was coming toward her. “That the wizard?”
The question surprised her. “How did you know—”
“Your brother told me.”
“Michael? He’s here?” She felt her panic rising. She’d assumed he was safe. If he’d come to rescue her and was now in danger himself—
“No, he already took a boatload a’ kids to shore. Said he’s coming back. Better hurry, though. You hear that explosion?”
“Yes.” Kate prayed, guiltily, that Michael would not return.
“Dam’s been groaning and creaking ever since. Got all the kids scared.” He nodded to Dr. Pym. “So, he dead or something?”
“No. He just won’t wake up.”
“What about the witch?”
“She’s in there. Dead, I think.”
The boy’s face broke into a broad grin. “Really? So we’re gonna be okay, huh?”
Kate hesitated. Did she tell him the truth about the explosion? Tell him what all that groaning and creaking really meant? Could she trust him or would it cause even greater panic?
She never got the chance to decide.
Emma had a plan. It boiled down to this: find Dr. Pym and demand he fix everything. With that in mind, she’d run along the top of the gorge in a sort of staggering, hob-legged lunge—her ankle was really hurting her—doing her best to ignore the wailing of the dam and push back thoughts of Gabriel, wounded and weak, fighting the Countess’s monster. In her heart, she knew he was still alive. And if she could just get to Dr. Pym, everything would be fine.
There was only one problem. As she neared the mouth of the gorge, she became aware of a cluster of scared-sounding voices rippling out from the center of the lake. With horror, Emma realized that the children were still on the boat. That meant Kate was still on the boat. Maybe Michael too. And certainly Dr. Pym.
Therefore, she had to be there.
She knew the village would have boats, and so she started over the narrow bridge that spanned the gorge, head down, running full tilt, not looking where she was going.
Suddenly, with a
whoof
, she was on her back, her head ringing. She scrambled to get to her feet, imagining she’d crashed into a Screecher; then a voice spoke:
“Are you all right? Didn’t see you coming.” A hand helped her up. “I heard the explosion, so I hurried down to take some pictures. ’Fraid I was looking the other way.”
It was Abraham, and he had a camera hanging from his neck. He stared at her.
“You’re one of them children I helped escape. What’re you doing here?!”
The words spilled out. “Gabriel’s in the dam fighting a monster! The whole thing’s gonna break apart any minute! I gotta get to Dr. Pym! The kids are still on the boat—”
“Slow down, slow down. Who’s Gabriel? Who’s Dr. Pym? What monster?”
“No, listen! Those kids are still on the boat! We gotta—”
“Wait, the children are on the witch’s boat?”
“Yeah! That’s what I been saying! Are you deaf or something?!”
“We gotta get ’em off! If the dam goes—”
“Duh! That’s what I was doing when you got in my way! That’s why I gotta get to Dr. Pym!”
“Well, I don’t know this Dr. Pym, but we gotta organize rescue boats. We need to get those children to safety!”
Fine, Emma thought, you do that, but I need a boat now! And she started to say that when there was a rending and scraping unlike any that had come before.
Emma turned.
Abraham gasped, “Oh dear Lord.”
The dam was folding outward, split down the middle, and as the dark water rushed through, one entire half dislodged and was carried away. Emma threw herself against the railing, crying out her friend’s name. To Abraham, who hadn’t truly understood what she’d meant about Gabriel or Dr. Pym or the monster in the dam but who knew suffering well enough, it sounded as if the young girl’s heart was breaking.