Venom and Song (8 page)

“Yes,” said Grimwarden. “We'll both be fine.” Grimwarden swam over to the other flet soldiers and allowed them to help him aboard. “Mind the hand,” he said.

Tommy glanced back at the struggling razorfish. A third had appeared. Tommy watched it head right for the others. It submerged partially and swam directly beneath one of the wounded fish . . . and cut it in half.

The two cavesurfers slid slowly back to where the others had gathered at the bottom of the falls. When they arrived, they found Flet Marshall Brynn and Mr. Wallace sitting in a boat together.

“Mr. Wallace!” yelled Kat. “You're alive!”

“Yes,” he replied weakly. “Thanks to Jett for hauling me out of the water.” He looked up and saw Jimmy. “Master Jimmy,” he said. “You made it.”

“Aye,” he said. “Barely.”

Kiri Lee sat up and said, “There aren't any more tubes or falls or whirlpools or ANYTHING ELSE DANGEROUS, are there?”

“No,” said Grimwarden. “It's a smooth ride from here on out.”

The cavesurfers raced along in utter darkness, the headlamps on each too damp to relight—even with Johnny's now limited power. The young lords sat listening in the darkness, the chill air whistling in their ears, and shivering in their damp clothes from the waterfall dunk. The Elves spoke in hushed voices as they deftly maneuvered the swift current of the underground river.

Tommy felt they were going west, far from the Dark Veil.
One wrong move might send us into a sheer wall or a ridge lurking an inch under the surface,
Tommy thought.

“I was thinking the same thing,” whispered Kat. “I wish we could see a little.” She turned around carefully to the cavesurfer behind them. “Johnny, how are you doing?”

“I'm thinking about Autumn,” he said quietly. “With everything we just went through, how could she do any better?”

“She's way ahead of us,” said Tommy. “I bet she's already there.”

“The Sentinels told us she would get the best medical care in Allyra,” said Kat. “That Claris lady sure seemed to know what she's doing. Autumn will pull through. I know she will.”

“Yeah,” Johnny replied with little certainty. It was silent again for several moments, and then Johnny said, “I might be able to make a little light again.”

“NO,” said Tommy louder than he meant to as an image of their boat in flames hurtling through the underground flitted through his mind. He didn't care that much for his curly locks, but he didn't want them singed off, either. “Uh, I mean, that's okay. I think the Sentinels want us in the dark.”

“We are nearing the Nightwish Caverns,” said Grimwarden, his whispered voice still somehow gruff and commanding. “Be silent and make no sudden moves.”

At the head of the boat, a bluish spark kindled and for a moment illuminated Grimwarden's dark eyes, ragged long hair, and beard. The Guardmaster placed a glowing blue stone on the prow of the boat and sat down, showing his massive, broad-shouldered silhouette.

With the new light, Tommy could see just how narrow the aqueduct was . . . a thin channel between platforms of rigid stone and clusters of jagged stalagmites. Here and there, other byways appeared as shadowy cavelike holes. Then Tommy saw something he didn't understand: little flashes of light hanging ten feet in the air on either side of the channel. So many of them, evenly spaced, they'd light up as a boat passed and then fade out in the darkness left behind.

Arrowheads
, Tommy suddenly realized. . . .
Razor-sharp arrowheads glistening like rows of sharks' teeth
.

Bowstrings pulled tight to their chins, arrows nocked and trained on the boats, an entire arsenal of Elven archers stood ready on either side of the river. Even if an enemy could navigate the pitch-black aqueducts and approach the caverns, he'd never make it past these archers . . . not without becoming a floating pincushion.

Light grew from some source far ahead. The boat rose in the water and began to slow. Tommy could see the archers better now. Two complete lines of bowmen garbed in dark gray and black, like the tunnel's walls, waited on the river's banks. As one, they removed the arrows from their bowstrings and expertly slid them back into their quivers. Then they crossed wrists and bowed. Grimwarden returned the customary gesture.

They're staring at us,
thought Tommy.
All of them
.

The light grew stronger, and the boat emerged at last from the tunnel, floating slowly into a massive, vast expanse. Tommy's jaw literally dropped. Kat gasped. Even Johnny, who'd been so preoccupied with his thoughts of Autumn, couldn't help but stare.

“Behold!” exclaimed Grimwarden. “The Nightwish Caverns and the Remnant of Berinfell!”

An army of thousands of flet soldiers clad in rich browns and deep greens stood on either side of the river, their outstretched arms and extended rycheswords forming a celebratory roof above the newcomers. And beyond them, a teeming crowd, untold thousands of men, women, and children. Trumpets blared, thousands of voices rose in songs and cheers, and pure white flower petals cascaded down like fat snowflakes from the heights. And what heights there were! The ceiling of the Nightwish Caverns was hardly visible in the murky twilight so far above, but it was several hundred feet up at least. Great turrets and mighty bastions made of the strangest dimpled blue stone towered up on the left and on the right. And crafted upon these were many balconies stuffed with cheering Elven citizens. Bridges arched over the river in several places far ahead, and more deliriously happy Elves filled these.

“This is all for you,” said Elle Goldarrow, turning to look at each of the teens as the line of boats emerged from the tunnel. Then she stood, raised her hands to silence the crowd, and announced, “We have won a great victory over the Spider King,” her voice becoming loud, commanding, and resonant. “For today, the Lords of Berinfell RETURN!”

In the happy chaos that followed Elves leaped up and down, children shrieked at seeing the heroes, and more than one adolescent Elf swooned over the sight of the teen lords entering their domain. Banners fluttered, fists pumped, and swords rattled on the faces of shields as everyone welcomed what they had hoped for through so many years of darkness.

When Goldarrow sat back down, Grimwarden muttered, “It is not yet the final victory. There is much work to be done.”

“Oh, don't be so morose,” she replied. “Our people need this. It's their first real celebration in hundreds of years. Give them this day and the ceremony tonight. Then we'll go to work.”

Grimwarden harrumphed and turned away. Goldarrow leaned toward the young lords. “With those wide, fearful eyes, you look like Gnomes.” The teens didn't laugh, but Goldarrow was undaunted. “Smile at them . . . wave to them,” she said. “They are your people.”

Tommy, Kat, and Kiri Lee did as they were told. Their waves were tentative and slow, their smiles forced. As their boat drifted under a bridge, Kat whispered to Tommy, “They don't know, do they?”

“Know what?” Tommy asked. Kiri Lee leaned over to hear.

“They think we're heroes, like some great warriors come to save them. They don't know that we're just kids.”

“No, Kat, you're wrong,” said Kiri Lee. “We're not just kids. Not anymore.”

Following their dramatic welcome into Nightwish, the Seven were given warm wraps before being served a quick meal and taken to their quarters—guys in one, girls in the other—two rooms at either ends of a long hall. They stripped off their still-damp clothes, donning brand-new night robes, and practically fell into bed, asleep in midair—except for Johnny, who worried about Autumn and why the Sentinels had refused his request to see her.

Sometime in the early morning, there came a knock at the door to the boys' quarters. Then a harder knock. Finally a knock so hard the ceiling almost caved in. Johnny leaped out of bed, feeling every muscle kink and pain, and opened the door. “Nelly!” he said. “And Guardmaster Grimwarden. What's going on here?”

“We're very sorry to wake you,” said Nelly. Jimmy, Tommy, and Jett sat up, yawning.

“What time is it?” Jett rubbed his eyes.

“Early enough,” said Grimwarden. “Had a ridiculously difficult time waking you, too. Almost took the door down. May we come in?”

“Just a sec,” Johnny said, wandering away. “We couldn't figure out how to put out this candle-stone-thing, so I just covered it up.” The room now lit in dim silvery light, Johnny let them in, and they sat at a small table in the center of the chamber. The other boys gathered around.

“Would you mind excusing us?” Grimwarden inclined his head, indicating that he wanted to speak to Johnny alone.

“No problem, Mr. Grimwarden, sir,” said Tommy.

Jett nudged Johnny as if he might need backup. “We'll be right outside the door, dude.”

“Just give us a shout,” added Jimmy. Then the three boys shuffled out sleepily and closed the door.

“We have just been to see Autumn,” Nelly began.

“How's she doing?”

“Good, very good,” said Grimwarden. “Nelly, perhaps you would be better at this.”

She nodded. “Johnny, tomorrow is the lordship ceremony. It is a very public thing where you will all be celebrated as the returning Lords of Berinfell.”

“Even Autumn?”

“Well, we'll see how she's doing.”

“So I may see her now?”

“It's best you leave her be,” Nelly said.

“But she's my sister!”

Nelly looked to Grimwarden, then back to Johnny. “Regarding that. We were afraid that something will come as a bit of a shock to you.”

“That I'm an Elf?” Johnny scratched his ear. “Well, I'm kind of over that.”

“No, not that,” said Nelly. “But it's related.” She looked to Grimwarden, sighing. “See, Guardmaster, I'm not much better at this. Okay”—back to Johnny—“you remember how we told you that the Drefids took you and the others as babes, yes?”

“Sure.”

“Well, when they brought you and Autumn out of Allyra and left you on Earth, the authorities gave you to the Briarmans as brother and sister.”

“But?” Johnny's sleepy mind didn't gather the implication.

“But you're not,” said Nelly. “Not by blood, anyway.”

Johnny sat back, eyes fixed in a blinkless stare.

“Your real name,” said Grimwarden, “is Albriand Ashheart. Autumn is Miarra Swiftstorm. Two families. Two lordly families.”

“We're very sorry to have to tell you like this,” Nelly said.

“Does Autumn know?”

“Yes, she knows.”

“I really can't see her?”

“No, not now,” said Nelly. “She needs time to . . . to come to terms with this in her own way. That's why we didn't allow you to see her earlier. You'll have to wait until the lordship ceremony.”

Grimwarden and Nelly bid Johnny good morning and left, letting the other boys back in. The four crawled back into bed, relishing the allowance of sleeping late. Everyone but Johnny, who, though quite exhausted, never did fall back asleep.

4
The Lordship Ceremony

“THIS IS the coolest thing I've ever worn,” said Jett, admiring himself in a long mirror. “And that's saying a lot.”

“You like the tunic, do you?” asked Brennath Eventide, a flet soldier assigned to help the young lords with their ceremonial attire. “I should say you might. The thread in these garments is worth more than the castle in which we now stand.”

“Yur pulling me leg, aren't yu?” asked Jimmy, looking again at his tunic. Its design was the same as the others: black with ornate silver embroidery around the collar, sleeves, and waist.
What thread could be worth that much gold?
He turned and muttered to Tommy, “Yu think he'd be offended if I told 'im mine dunnot fit so well?”

“I doubt it,” said Tommy. “I think they—”

“Offended?” Brennath laughed so hard his curly blond locks bounced on his shoulders. “You could scarcely offend me . . . a lowly flet soldier! I am at your service . . . bound to your service, actually. And because I am to teach you the nuances of our culture, let me begin by explaining that each one of the Seven Lords is in all things above my station.”