The Dark

CHAPTER Twenty-four



Isabel


We stare at the river for ages, studying it from various angles. And still no one has any idea how to cross it.

‘Well,’ Matt says. ‘One thing’s for sure, we can’t swim it.’

Ethan and I both nod in agreement. This river is just too wild. The speed it’s travelling is staggering. And it’s also icy cold. We wouldn’t live long if we fell into it. Great chunks of ice pass us by. The sound of one hitting the river bank, and exploding into several smaller chunks, echoes like an ear-shattering roll of thunder.

‘We can’t go round it,’ I explain, working moisture into my mouth. ‘This is where we’re meant to cross.’

‘You didn’t see any bridges in that vision of yours, did you?’ Matt asks hopefully.

‘No. But a bridge would be nice. What do you say, Ethan? Can you build one? You know, like you did for me in the ancient city last year?’

He aims his torch across the water. ‘I can’t see the other side. It would be too risky.’

‘Oh well. Now what?’

Suddenly Ethan claps his hands together as if struck by a brilliant idea. ‘Well, that settles it. If I can’t build a bridge, we’ll just have to row.’

Matt flicks his torch around the river bank. ‘And the boat is … where?’

I’m inclined to agree with Matt. Not because I don’t have faith in Ethan’s illusions. I’ve seen the reality Ethan can create with his mind. It’s just, I’m reluctant to get in any boat to cross this river. ‘It’s too fast for a boat. We’ll end up way down river. Or up river. Or …’

‘Somewhere down the bottom,’ Matt finishes for me.

‘It will have oars,’ Ethan says by way of explanation. ‘Good strong oars.’

The thought of crossing this river in a rowing boat has my stomach churning into knots. I take a deep breath to control my composure, at least outwardly for Matt’s sake. But right now Ethan’s idea is the best option we have – in fact, the only option. ‘Give it everything you can, Ethan. I don’t like this river. It’s as if it thinks on its own, but can’t make up its mind on which direction to go. It has a hungry look about it.’

‘I’ll give it a rudder too, one that will work with a rowing boat and help us steer it.’

Matt’s head is shaking as he turns his back to the river to stand in front of Ethan and me. ‘In case you two haven’t noticed, there is no boat. None. Zero. And even if there were, you wouldn’t get me in it, not in these waters.’ His head keeps shaking. ‘You two are crazy.’

Ethan’s tolerance snaps. ‘Do you have a better idea? I mean, you’re supposed to be our leader, aren’t you? Everyone knows it. Why even the Prophecy says so. How does it go now? Oh yeah, “Not before a leader pure of heart awakens”.’

‘Ethan, that’s enough!’

He waves a hand to shut me up. ‘But what are you doing instead? Putting doubts in our minds. We don’t need that. If you believe with your soul, this illusion will work. Remember Lady Arabella said to have courage and faith. Besides, the boat will be as real as you or me. It will stay solid for the duration of the illusion. I can do that, Matt. Trust me. You know, this will be a good test for you. See if you’ve got what it takes to be a—’

Another hair-raising shriek pierces the darkness nearby. All three of us peer around and over our shoulders.

After a moment of complete and eerie silence, Ethan turns his attention back to Matt. ‘Of course, you could stay here, with that thing screeching at you until we get back.’

Ethan spins away and Matt and I are left alone. ‘You know, Ethan didn’t mean that you’re not good enough to be our …’ My sentence falls away as Matt turns and stares at the thrashing water. With his back to me, I watch his shoulders lift as he sucks in a calming breath. Ethan’s words have dug deeply. I know my brother, he takes life, and his responsibilities, very seriously. It was probably his feelings of inadequacy that made him leap into that pyramid and force his way into the underworld with us. Matt has a lot to prove, and now he’s faced with a different challenge, to use his faith to believe in what he can’t see, and to trust another with his life. It’s what we do in the Guard all the time. And I know from personal experience it’s not easy. But Matt’s having a real struggle.

Ethan comes back. ‘It’s ready.’

My first thought is that it should be larger – like ten times the size of this very ordinary-looking boat!

‘Oh hell!’ Matt comes up beside me. ‘So that’s it? I thought you were supposed to be gifted!’

Taking a swig from my flask to moisten my mouth, I attempt to distract Ethan from reacting to Matt’s comment, ‘Are you sure it will hold up in this river, Ethan?’

Ethan nods. ‘It’ll hold.’ And to Matt he says, ‘You can wait here if you want. Alone. You’ll have your torch and we’ll leave you some of our food. Did you bring any spare batteries? The torches will need changing soon. Oh, don’t worry, we’ll come back for you – if we can. That is, providing there isn’t a back door out of this place. Don’t know how long that’ll be though – hours, days, weeks!’ His shoulders lift in a light shrug. ‘Then again, you could do what you came here to do – learn what it is to be a Guardian of Time.’

I get in the boat, taking a position at the stern with one set of oars. I wonder for a second if I’m doing the right thing, trusting my life to this illusion. The boat feels solid beneath me, the oars fit snugly in my hands, and yet I know they’re only real as long as Ethan can maintain the illusion. I recall the first time I saw Ethan’s creation of a bridge, and how difficult it had been to put my trust in him, even though I could smell the flowers he’d created around it. I shift sideways on the bench and call out to Matt, ‘Don’t think about it, Matt. Just get in. Your strength is really going to be needed here.’

Curling his fists into balls he tentatively steps into the boat. Feeling its solidity for himself, he drops down beside me, shoving me over. ‘All right then, but I’ll row.’

Relinquishing the oars, I move to the opposite bench and take up the other set. Ethan gets in and takes the oars from my hands. ‘I’m rowing too.’

I open my mouth to argue, but Ethan, as usual, is faster with his words. ‘Don’t go getting all snotty, Isabel. You have to let us row. We’ll last longer than you. And don’t take offence. It’s a matter of stamina, not an anti-feminist insult.’

‘I’m as strong as both of you! How many times have I proved it in training?’

‘Will you sit down?’ Ethan snaps at me. ‘I don’t know how long this illusion’s going to last. And besides, we need you to steer. At least you can see where we’re going. That’s why I put a rudder in this thing. You’re the only one who can see the other side!’ His voice softens, sounding weary. ‘Look, just take us straight across. If we end up drifting down river, this illusion could dissolve, and then where would we be?’

Matt’s eyes flare wide, but he doesn’t say anything. He must be wound up like a tight spring. I think all of us are. Not wanting to inflame the situation, or make Matt feel worse, I shut my mouth and take up a position at the stern, controlling the rudder.

Ethan and Matt start rowing, quickly getting their rhythm in sync, and amazingly, the boat takes off in a straight line, slicing through the current. We go over some rapids and lose momentum for a few minutes, swinging dangerously down river, but the guys row faster and harder, and soon we straighten up again, heading towards the distant shore.

But rowing turns out to be a hard slog. Even in this freezing cold, perspiration makes their faces shine. One of the torches flickers and goes off. Luckily the other seems OK. Matt pushes his fur-lined hood back, while Ethan starts slipping his cloak right off, trying to keep the rhythm going as he does so.

Watching them work so hard makes me feel slightly guilty. I like to think I could help, but there’s no way I could last as long as either of these two. It’s only because of their steady pace that we’ve come so far this quickly.

‘How much further, Isabel?’ Matt asks in a strained voice. ‘Can you see?’

‘Not far at all. Maybe ten minutes, I swear.’ The remaining torchlight flickers, but holds, though at a much reduced strength. ‘As long as this light holds I’ll be able to steer us straight.’

‘Don’t trust it,’ Ethan says, and kicks over my pack. ‘Change the batteries on Matt’s torch.’

While trying to keep the rudder in position, I fish around in my pack and locate one set of the six sets of spare batteries we brought with us. While undoing the wrapping, a clump of ice hits us, tilting the boat dangerously, before veering away and allowing us to right ourselves.

The torchlight flickers again. It’s obvious now it hasn’t much energy left to give. ‘Hurry, Isabel,’ Ethan says with a tight edge to his voice. ‘You have to keep us straight. Matt and I can’t hold this pace much longer.’

Matt picks up on Ethan’s concern and finds an inner source of courage. ‘I’m not going to stop! Not unless my arms drop off. Your boat is … unbelievable. I know it doesn’t really exist, and yet I can feel it. I’m sitting in it! If you can do this, Ethan, maybe it’s possible, just maybe—’

A sharp jolt against the side of our boat sends the batteries flying out of my hand and over the side. ‘Oh great!’

‘Forget them,’ Ethan calls out. ‘Get another set out.’

‘Here.’ Matt pushes my pack up close to my leg with one of his feet.

I lunge down to get it, but as I do, another chunk of ice crashes into us, sending the boat careering into a set of rapids and spinning us off course.

‘It’s OK,’ Ethan says, trying to maintain a level of calm. ‘Just keep rowing, Matt. Forget the batteries for a second, Isabel. Keep us straight until we get out of this mess.’

But this mess is harder to break free of than anything else we’ve had to deal with so far. The rapids are fuelled by a maze of mixing currents, tossing us in different directions. And while the torchlight grows dimmer with each passing second, there’s enough light for me to see we’re heading for more trouble. Straight ahead is a whirlpool. We’re going to have to swing around it, or be sucked in for sure.

‘Faster,’ I tell Matt and Ethan. ‘You have to row harder and faster. Pick up the pace. This is crucial.’

Ethan peers over the edge of the boat. ‘What can you see that we can’t?’

‘Trouble,’ I tell him. ‘Just keep rowing and let me do the steering.’

Just as I think this crossing can’t get any worse, the torchlight flickers once more, then goes out. For a second, as the darkness consumes us totally, everyone is silent, except for the guys’ heavy breathing and grunting with every motion of their arms. I wonder fleetingly how we’re going to get out of this now. First things first, I tell myself, and concentrate on steering the boat around the approaching whirlpool. The boat lifts suddenly. We’ve caught the edge. Holding the rudder steady becomes difficult as the pressure of the whirlpool increases. Finally we’re free and glide into smoother water.

‘Yes, we cleared it!’ Quickly, I reach into my bag for the batteries. I find another packet and rip it open. But in my haste to get the batteries into the torch, I drop one into the bottom of the boat.

‘What did we clear, Isabel?’ Matt asks in a slow voice, as if, while most of him wants to hear what we just missed, his heart doesn’t.

‘You don’t want to know, Matt.’

He contents himself with this, then rolls something to the rear of the boat with his foot.

It’s the other battery, and now I have the two again. Fumbling in the dark, while still trying to maintain a steady rudder, I manage to get the fresh batteries into the torch. I flick it on and it lights up the whole area for me. ‘Yes!’ But the better news is, though we’re way down river from where we entered, the other side is fast approaching. We make it across, get dragged a further twenty or so metres by the swift current there, when finally Ethan finds a place to jump off and secure the rope.

As soon as we get ourselves and our packs off, the boat begins to disappear. Matt and Ethan collapse on the sandy bank, panting and dragging in deep breaths. Matt gives his arms a shake, then sags again, spreading out on the sand.

A feeling of euphoria begins to take shape inside me. We crossed the river and made it, so this part of our journey is now behind us, bringing us that much closer to finding Arkarian. But before I get a moment to savour this feeling, and share it with Ethan and Matt, I’m overwhelmed by a prickly sensation.

I shake Matt, then Ethan, who collapsed on my other side. ‘Hey, get up! Quickly!’

‘Huh?’ Matt moans, rolling over, exhausted.

Ethan drags himself up. ‘What is it?’

Around us the trees are thick. I peer into them as best I can. ‘I can’t shake this feeling.’

‘What feeling?’ Matt asks in a tight voice, suddenly sitting up beside me too.

‘A feeling that we’re not alone.’