The Sword in the Grotto (6 page)

I
just knew it had to be good old Aunt Tabby. It was Aunt Tabby who had been pulling the string, not some horrible monster, and she was coming to rescue us.

“Aunt Tabby, Aunt Tabby!” I shouted. “We're here!”

“Help, help!” Wanda yelled, just to make sure.

But there was no reply.

“It might be Dad,” said Wanda. “Dad, Dad—it's
me
. I'm here, Dad!”

“I'm here too,” I told Wanda. “Don't forget about
me
.”

“Ha!” Wanda gave a funny kind of laugh. I ignored her and just kept on watching the green light flickering at the far end of the tunnel. It was moving slowly, but it was definitely coming down toward us.

Wanda said nervously, “It's a weird light for a flashlight. It's not very bright, is it?”

I had been thinking that too. “No,” I said, “it's not….”

“Dad!” Wanda shouted.
“Dad!”
We listened for Barry's reply, but there was nothing. All we could hear was the
slip
and
slop
of the water washing around us.

“It's not Dad, is it?” Wanda whispered miserably.

“No, it's not,” I said. “I think it's—”

“It's the monster, isn't it—the one that ate the string? And now it's going to come and—”

“Shut up, Wanda,” I said. “It's not a monster. It's
Edmund
.”

The greenish light was floating along the tunnel toward us in just the way that Edmund floats. As it got closer, I could see that it had a definite Edmund shape to it, right down to the silly haircut.

“It
is
,” gasped Wanda. “It's Edmund. He's come to rescue us!”

“Wanda,” I said, “how exactly do you expect a weedy little ghost like Edmund to rescue us? Or even a big strong ghost? No ghost can lift up the portcullis and let us out, can it?”

But Wanda wasn't listening. “Edmund, Edmund, help! We're trapped! Help,
help
!” she yelled.

Edmund's hollow, ghostly voice came echoing along the tunnel.
“Waaan-da,”
he called out.
“Aramin-ta.”

I shivered. Maybe it was the creepy sound of Edmund's voice in the dark, maybe it was the weird green light, or maybe it was the really cold water, which was splashing up to our waists by now—but I started to shiver and I just couldn't stop.

Edmund floated up to the portcullis and stared at us.

“There's no need to gape like we're in a zoo or something,” I told him. “We've got to get out of here. W-we're going to drown if we don't.”

“I know…”
said Edmund in his hollow voice.

“Well, thanks a lot, Edmund,” I snapped at him. “We feel a whole lot better now.”

“I know…”
said Edmund,
“because I drowned here. With Sir Horace…”

“Drowned?” Wanda squeaked.

“Drowned,”
Edmund repeated gloomily.

I must say I didn't think Edmund was exactly being helpful just then.

“Edmund,” I said, “will you please go back as fast as you can to the house and tell Aunt Tabby where we are? She'll know what to do. Please.
Hurry
.”

“It is too late to return to the house,”
said Edmund.

“What are we going to
doooo
?” Wanda wailed.

“Be quiet, Wanda.”

“Do not fret, Wanda,”
said Edmund.
“We will take the other way out. There is just enough time before the water becomes too deep.”
Edmund floated through the portcullis easily, as if it wasn't there, and hovered beside us, lighting up the horrible little grotto with his ghostly glow.

Now I was glad that we hadn't had our flashlights for a while, because what we saw was scary—the grotto was almost full of dark, deep water. And every time a wave hit the rocks, more sea swirled in and the water rose a little bit more. I looked up at Wanda's piece of seaweed on the ceiling, and I knew she had been right. The water was just going to keep on rising. Right to the top…

“Follow me.”
Edmund's voice interrupted my thoughts, which was a good thing, as I had been about to throw a Wanda-sized panic. He floated away toward the pile of rocks where the sea was coming in.

Wanda wailed, “We can't follow you. We'll
drown
.”

I was thinking the same thing. I was also thinking, how come Edmund thinks he can rescue
us
when he obviously couldn't rescue himself all those years ago?

Edmund's voice echoed around the cavern.
“The water is not yet too deep, Wanda. You must trust me.”

“Ooooh!” wailed Wanda.

Edmund came back toward us. Then he started sinking down through the water until
he was up to his neck in seawater.

“Don't go, Edmund!” yelled Wanda.

“I am not going, Wanda,”
he said.
“I am showing you how deep the water is. But soon it will be deeper. You must hurry. You must get down from the portcullis and follow me.”

“Come on, Wanda,” I said. “We've got to do this.” I started to climb down the portcullis, which was not a nice thing to do, as the water was freezing cold and came to way above my waist. I grabbed hold of the sword and hung on to it to stop myself from falling over.

Wanda hadn't moved. She looked down at me and said, “But I'm shorter than you. It will be almost up to my head.”

“All the more reason for getting a move
on,” I told her briskly.

“You sound just like Aunt Tabby,” she said. But she began to climb down the portcullis and soon, after a bit of squeaking, she was standing next to me.

And then a really big wave came in and knocked her over. Wanda disappeared under the water.

“Blermphh!” Wanda came up for air and waved her arms about like a crazy windmill.

“Hurry, hurry,”
said Edmund anxiously.

Wanda was still doing her windmill impression, so I grabbed hold of her with my other hand and towed her along behind Edmund until he stopped at the big pile of rocks that blocked the grotto off from the rest of the cave.

Now it was getting really difficult to stand
up, as the water was up to my chin, and it was still coming in. Wanda tried to put her feet down and disappeared right under again. I pulled her up and said, “Just keep on swimming, Wanda.”

“B-but I can't swim without arm floats.”

“You just have been, in case you hadn't noticed.”

Edmund had floated to the top of the pile of rocks.
“Climb up here,”
he said.

“How?” spluttered Wanda.

“Just
do
it, Wanda,” I told her. “Just grab hold of a rock and
climb
.”

So Wanda did. She heaved herself out of the water and climbed right up. I dragged the sword out of the water and followed her, although I didn't really see the point. We'd looked everywhere for a way out before, and we hadn't see anything.

And then our worst nightmare happened. Edmund disappeared.

“Ed-
mund
,” Wanda wailed in the dark.

“Through here, Wanda,”
came Edmund's hollow voice from the other side of the rocks. And then we saw it. Right at the very top of the rock pile, hidden behind a large flat rock, was the
way out
.

It may have been narrow, and it may have
been full of a weird boy ghost called Edmund, but who cared? All we had to do was squeeze through the gap behind the big flat rock and we would be free.

Which is what we did. And we were.
Free
.

W
e may have been free, but we were still stuck. We were now sitting high up on the ledge inside the cave—the same ledge where we had stood that morning and looked down at the sword. But of course the cave was still full of water.

“You are safe,”
said Edmund.
“Now you must wait for the tide to go out.”

“How long will
that
take?” we both asked.

“It will take two hours and fifteen minutes,”
said Edmund.
“Farewell, I must be gone.”

“Gone?” squeaked Wanda. “You can't go and leave us here all alone.”

“But Wanda, you are safe. The sea does not reach up here. All you have to do is wait for the water to recede. I have left my post for too long. I must return to my duties in the tunnel.”

“What duties in the tunnel?” I asked him, wondering what on earth Edmund had to do that was so important. Polish the dust? Vacuum up the spiders?

“I guard the way. I must stop anyone from passing from the house and suffering the same fate that Sir Horace and I did so many years ago. But today,”
said Edmund sadly,
“I failed in my task.”

“No you didn't,” I told him. “You came and
saved us. Thank you, Edmund.”

“Thank you, Edmund,” said Wanda. And then, because she is nosy, Wanda asked, “But what were you and Sir Horace doing in that horrible grotto?”

“We were escaping our enemies, the FitzMaurice family. It was a cowardly attack. There were more than twenty of them and two of us.”

“One and a half, more like,” I said. “You're only a boy, Edmund. And quite weedy.”

“No he's not,” said Wanda. “I think he's really strong. What happened then, Edmund?”

“We fled to the grotto beneath Sir Horace's castle. Many years before, Sir Horace had placed a portcullis trap to keep our enemies from the caves under his castle, and he had fashioned a cunning maze to confuse them. But the trap sprung on us, leaving us at the mercy of our pursuers.”

“Oh, Edmund, how awful.” Wanda sounded thrilled.

“Indeed it was, Wanda. We fought hard but Sir Horace was injured. Then our enemies piled up the rocks and trapped us in the grotto, leaving us at the mercy of the sea.”

“Oh, Edmund,” breathed Wanda.

Edmund bowed.
“Farewell Wanda. Araminta.”
But as he began to disappear, I remembered something I wanted to ask him. Something that had been bugging me ever since he told us that he had drowned in the cave.

“Edmund,” I said.

“I must be gone….”

“Edmund—I just want to know—you knew the way out, so why didn't you escape when
you
were trapped?”

“Sir Horace was injured. He could not climb to the top of the rocks,”
he said.
“And a good and faithful page stays by his master. At all times.”

“Even if he will drown?” I asked.

“He will stay at all times,”
Edmund repeated
solemnly. And then he was gone.

“Wow…” said Wanda after a while. “He's so brave.”

I didn't say anything. I tried to imagine what it must have been like all those years ago for Edmund, stuck in that ghastly grotto with Sir Horace and deciding not to escape—but I couldn't even start.

 

It was dark when Wanda and I at long last got out of the cave. The full moon was rising over the sea and the beach was empty. I was glad, as I didn't want anyone to ask stupid questions about how come we were soaking wet and dragging a great big rusty sword behind us. I had a feeling that once we got home, we were going to be asked enough stupid questions to keep us going for quite a while.

As we walked up the steps from the beach, Wanda suddenly yelled out, “Dad!” and shot off. I slowly dragged the sword up the rest of the steps. I didn't believe that Barry was there. I mean, how would he know where to find us?

But he
was
there!

Good old Barry gave a loud whoop and ran toward us. He scooped Wanda up in his arms and swung her around, then he rushed over to me and did the same.

“You're here!” he gasped. “I don't believe it. You really are here—just like it said.”

“Like what said, Dad?” asked Wanda.

“Well, you won't believe this,” said Barry with a big grin, “I didn't believe it either, but I knew it was worth a try.”

“What was worth a try, Dad?” asked Wanda.

“Well, about half an hour ago, Tabitha found some writing in the coal dust on top of the boiler. Which was odd, as you know how clean Mom keeps the boiler. Anyway, the writing—which was very peculiar and hard to read—said ‘W & A Be Upon the Beach.' Tabitha had a screaming fit, as she thought it was a ransom note, but I calmed her down and said I would go and find you. And here you are….” Barry shook his head as though he did not believe it.

 

Wanda and I were both in the van and Barry was about to drive off when I remembered something. “The sword! We're not going without the sword. Not after all the trouble we've had getting it.”

So Barry got out and picked up the sword.
“Where did you find that rusty piece of junk?” he asked as we drove past the mushroom farm and took the road home.

“You don't want to know that,” I told him.

“Oh, yes I do,” said Barry. “And I can think of a few other people who do, too.”