The Serpent of Eridor Page 6

  ‘We need to walk upstream for a few hundred metres,’ said Tariq, gazing over the river. ‘The waters are narrower there.’

  Ikara shook her head. ‘Danger freak. There are crocodiles in the upper parts of this river. Crossing here makes more sense, unless we’d rather be eaten by carnivorous flesh-eating reptiles than nuked by the witch.’

  ‘Here suddenly seems ideal,’ replied Skoodle.

  ‘All agreed?’ asked Tariq. ‘OK. Decision made. But beware the waterfall downstream. It drops a hundred metres on to rocks. Get swept over, you die. Clear?’

  ‘Unpleasantly so,’ muttered Skoodle.

  Estimating the distance, Alex asked, ‘How do we get out? The far bank’s a solid wall of plants.’

  ‘There are a few tunnels, made by large animals, through those mangrove roots,’ said Tariq. He pointed to a black area in the barrier of vegetation, slightly upstream. ‘Beyond that one lies the path to the Single Redwood.’

  Ikara smoothly slid into the water, her body held up by surface tension, and whipped rapidly towards the opposite bank.

  ‘You next, Alex, with Skoodle,’ said Tariq. ‘If you’re doing OK I’ll bring Keeko.’

  ‘What a morning. Waterfall, crocodiles, imminent death,’ said Skoodle. ‘Wonder what he’s got planned for this afternoon.’

  ‘Rhino wrestling?’ asked Alex.

  Skoodle scrambled on to his scalp. The pain of his needle-like claws was cushioned only slightly by Alex’s blond hair being longer than school allowed. Walking forward into the cold river, Alex sank up to his waist within six steps. Two more and the bottom of the river fell sharply away, plunging him in chest deep. Alex struck out in crawl, aiming upstream to compensate for the current.

  Head up, transferred Skoodle. Every time you roll to breathe I get dunked.

  Not refreshing?

  More like repetitive drowning.

  Are many people’s lives ruled by a rodent? Alex wondered as he lifted his head and swam water-polo crawl, in time to hear a splash behind them as Tariq powered into the river.

  Doubt it, but they should be. More chance of world peace. Better food.

  This is tough.

  So is holding on.

  At least you’re not in wet jeans, waterlogged shoes and swimming across a strong current.

  Pretend you’re on a surfboard.

  Surfing doesn’t include a waterfall and you in my head space.

  Me being in there stops it being empty.

  Up ahead Ikara lay coiled round a branch, surveying the scene below. ‘Come on, sloths. I’ve been here for ages. Very dull, waiting.’

  Tell someone else. We’re as interested as that log over there, transferred Skoodle.

  ‘It’s a crocodile,’ Ikara screamed.

  Whipping his head around, Alex saw the log upstream open its mouth to snap up a water rat. The reptile’s fearsome head swung around, its malicious eyes on Alex.

  ‘Head down, Alex. Swim for it,’ yelled Skoodle.

  Totally focused on forcing his body forward, Alex carved his way through the water.

  He’s gaining. Faster.

  This is fastest.

  ‘Want a snack, snub face? Over here,’ called Ikara. ‘Or are you frightened of a little snakey-wakey?’

  Mid-stroke, Alex lifted his head to see Ikara hanging suspended by her tail at the water’s edge. The monster hesitated, glancing from Alex to Ikara. The snake was closer but smaller. The two reptiles locked eyes. Ikara held her ground, swaying a millisecond from death. The crocodile surged forward. Ikara swerved, but remained in range. The enraged croc lunged again as the snake’s head swung out of reach.

  Two more strokes, transferred Skoodle. Come on, Alex.

  An instant later Alex’s fingers touched roots, each the thickness of a footballer’s thigh.

  ‘Climb. Get us out,’ shrieked Skoodle.

  ‘Can’t. No grip. Too slippery.’

  The roots stretched along in a dense row, too solid to penetrate. The only hole through that Alex could see lay upstream, beyond the croc. Heart pounding, Alex grabbed his knife, scraping it against the nearest mangrove.

  ‘Kill the croc, not the root.’

  ‘Getting the slime off.’

  ‘Won’t work. Get the croc.’

  ‘Against him my knife would be as much use as a toothbrush.’

  ‘Come on, old lumpy skin,’ Ikara yelled, dipping closer. ‘Give it your best shot.’

  As the croc threw himself at Ikara, missing by millimetres, a bear and monkey arrived at the bank in an explosion of water.

  ‘Jump, Keeko,’ shouted Tariq.

  Keeko threw herself off, landing high on the nearest mangrove root. All four limbs clamped round its green slipperiness. Her tail looped round the dry branch above, swinging her out of danger.

  Tariq changed course, thrashing through the water, heading directly for the crocodile. His furry fist swung out of the water and punched the croc. As the stunned reptile recoiled, Tariq leapt on to the animal’s back, arms clamped round the ripping jaws. Infuriated, the croc submerged itself. The terrified watchers could see dark shadows wrestling in the murky depths. Bloodied water swirled above the fighters.

  Keeko shinned down the mangrove and grabbed a large rock from the shallows.

  ‘Don’t throw,’ called Alex, treading water, still scraping at the root. ‘You might hit Tariq.’

  ‘But he’ll drown. He’ll run out of oxygen first,’ shouted Keeko.

  The animals resurfaced, Tariq’s powerful arms flung around the croc’s scaly head in a hideous embrace. Keeko hurled the rock, slamming it accurately on to the crocodile’s skull.

  The crocodile lashed his tail into the bear’s side. Roaring his rage and pain, Tariq raked his claws down the reptile’s underbelly. Scarlet ribbons spurted from the open flesh, staining the water crimson as they were swept downstream.

  Look out, Tariq. The waterfall, transferred Keeko.

  Tariq must have heard but didn’t look up, his body remaining locked against the crocodile’s.

  Let go, Tariq, screamed Alex inside his mind. Swim for it.

  Can’t. He’ll get back upstream quicker than me.

  A moment later the two figures were swept from view. It was over.

  ‘Tariq,’ screamed Ikara, her voice ragged with pain.

  Horrified, Alex stared at the head of the falls. He couldn’t believe that seconds ago his friend had been fighting for all their lives. Now he was gone. Immobile, Alex hung on to the slippery roots, his body drifting in the water.

  Splashing nearby made Alex drag his eyes away. Two more crocodiles were swimming towards them with lashing sweeps of their scaly green-grey bodies. Ikara slithered towards Alex like greeny-gold lightening. Powered by adrenaline blasting through his system, Alex shoved his knife in his belt and began grappling with the slippery mangrove roots.

  Ikara’s tail reached down. A clamp of snake wound round Alex’s chest, squeezing the air out of him as he scraped painfully up the side of a mangrove. Sore, unable to breathe, Alex grabbed for the higher, dry roots. His grip held. The pressure round his chest was released.

  The closest croc jumped at Alex, using his tail to propel himself out of the water. Alex jerked his feet up just before they were crunched off. Keeko sat within easy reach, face in hands, sobbing.

  ‘Get away, Keeko,’ yelled Alex. ‘More crocodiles.’

  Her head swung towards him, tear-filled eyes blank.

  ‘Tariq died saving us,’ screeched Skoodle. ‘Don’t waste his sacrifice.’

  Her trance of pain shattered, Keeko scrambled upwards. ‘You won’t get me,’ she yelled at the crocodiles. ‘I’d murder you if I could.’

  The reptiles circled below Keeko, malicious eyes fixed on her body. Then they headed upstream.

  ‘They’re aiming for the tunnel through the roots,’ called Ikara. ‘Get to that path before they do.’

  Alex clambered through the mangroves until he reached a branch that hung over the track
. Taking a deep breath he launched himself into space, hitting the ground running. From behind him came the sound of lumbering crocodile feet. Alex pounded down the path, but his wet jeans and shoes weighed him down. Tangled roots threatened to trip him at any moment: thick vegetation overhung the path, tearing at him. Slow meant dead. Injured meant dead.

  Not rocket science, transferred Skoodle, reading his thoughts.

  Nope, it’s logic. Inescapable.

  Like the crocodiles?

  Wrenching branches out of his face, Alex ran after the retreating body of Ikara. The crocodiles moved steadily, getting closer.

  They’re supposed to be slow on land, transferred Alex to Ikara.

  Not on Eridor, she returned. They don’t tire easily, either. Keep running.

  Exhausted, losing ground, Alex ran on. Wet jeans chafed his legs; his trainers felt like concrete.

  Tired? asked Skoodle.

  Shattered.

  How long can you keep going?

  Easy answer: Not long. His lungs ached as if hot steel wires had been rammed through his rib cage; his heart was banging, muscles leaden. Ask me in five.

  Minutes?

  Seconds.

  He forced himself through the lower branches of another prickly bush then stopped, horrified. An enormous lake of mud stretched in front of him, the path round it only a very low tunnel through dense vegetation. There was no other escape route. As he hesitated the crocodiles closed in further.

  Alex grabbed the branch of an overhanging tree and hoisted himself upwards, trying not to look down at the mudbath. The gaping black expanse would suck him in like quicksand if he fell. Once had been enough.

  He gripped the branches, ignoring the stings of red fire ants crawling along the bark. Scrambling from tree to tree, he aimed for the other side of the lake. The branches acted like crazy wooden scaffolding, gradually taking him higher. Finally reaching the far side, Alex stood on a twisted eucalyptus branch. The jump to the last mahogany tree looked impossible. Six metres below, the edge of the mudbath met solid ground. If he missed, pitiless jaws would shred his broken body as he tried to crawl away.

  Alex hesitated. Momentum had kept him running, then climbing. Now he faced a suicidal-looking jump.

  Retreat, transferred Skoodle.

  Can’t. Crocodiles will follow.

  Stay.

  Can’t. No food. No water. Tariq dead. Another two about to follow.

  ‘We aren’t ready to die yet,’ yelled Skoodle. ‘You’d better make that jump.’ His teeth sank into Alex’s chest. ‘If you think that hurts, times it by a hundred for crocodile teeth. Go for it.’

  Decision made, Alex launched himself into space. Sheared off by the force of his push-off, the bough crashed to earth. His grasping hands found hard wood, his fingers clutching the branch. Alex’s shoulders took his full weight as his body jerked out of free fall. It felt as if his arms had been wrenched out of their sockets.

  Looking down made his head dizzy, his hands sweaty. The ground seemed miles down. The closest foothold lay a couple of metres away. To get to it he would have to let go with one hand. Cold sweat poured from his body, making his hands slippery.

  ‘Move. This branch could crack too,’ yelled Skoodle.

  Licking his dry lips, Alex let go with his right hand to grab the branch closer to the trunk. Calling on his reserves of strength he crept, hand over hand, to the trunk.

  ‘Doing fine,’ said Skoodle. ‘Uncle Gus would have been impressed.’

  One more shuffle of his hand, then a soaking trainer found a solid perch. Transferring his footing to a wide branch, Alex grabbed the trunk.

  ‘By Vertog, flying is foul,’ said Skoodle.

  ‘Flying’s OK, but landing may kill you.’

  Alex climbed down to a branch above the path then dropped to the ground, touching down hard, joints robbed of all spring by fatigue.

  Pushing onwards, legs working on automatic pilot, Alex raced down the trail, breath rasping in his throat. Relentlessly, the murderous feet thundered closer. This’ll soon be over. They’re quicker.

  Too much honesty.

  As the crocs bring me down, I’ll throw you into the jungle.

  Great. So I’ll die alone.

  Stay with?

  No chance. Alone’s good.

  Ikara’s voice tore through his thoughts. Keep running. I see an escape route.

  CHAPTER 9

  Alex rocketed round a hibiscus bush, wrenching its dense, flower-laden branches aside. Ahead stood a massive redwood tree, its base as wide as a house. Carved into its dark bark face stood an arched entrance. Beyond the open door Ikara’s tail was disappearing up the first few treads of a staircase. Keeko dropped from a mahogany tree and ran for the entrance, Alex sprinting in behind her.

  Flickering candles suspended high on the dark wooden walls lit the cool, cathedral-like interior, from which low, wide stairs spiralled up out of sight. Keeko and Ikara had already vanished round the first curl upwards.

  Alex wrenched at the front door, but it wouldn’t budge.

  ‘Leave it,’ yelled Skoodle. ‘Run. Crocodiles can’t climb stairs.’

  I hope you’re right, returned Alex, too breathless to speak. He belted towards the ancient treads, footfalls echoing across the hall. From behind came the sinister scraping of sharp claws on the stone floor of the entrance.

  As Alex climbed the clatter came closer. Disbelief paralysed his mind, yet there could be no doubt. The crocodiles were starting up the stairs behind him.

  Although it felt as if his legs were about to drop off, terror forced him to keep running. If he found no hiding place he was trapped. The image of saw-edged white teeth in gaping jaws hung vividly in his mind. The stench of rotting flesh mingled with stinking river mud floated up to him.

  Drenched in sweat, Alex ran round the central column of the spiral staircase. From ahead came the faint rhythmical scratch of claws as Keeko swung from lamp to lamp. Pointlessly, painfully, his legs pumped up and down like a machine, slower with every step, muscle power blown away by lack of oxygen.

  ‘Alex, door ahead,’ yelled Ikara from above him. ‘Keep going, Keeko. You’re safe on the brackets.’

  Around another turn he found Ikara coiling her powerful body around the brass handle, twisting. Alex lunged at the door, battering it open. As he catapulted into the room a coil of dizzy snake landed at his feet. Recovering his balance, Alex twisted back to slam the door. He heard a loud thud as flesh hit wood.

  Alex shot the heavy brass bolt home then stood panting, eyes fixed on the door. Heavy blows hammered on to the wood as the huge reptiles blasted at the barrier. The door shuddered as the metal hinges strained to resist the assault. Alex backed away, expecting that at any second he would be nose-to-snout with one of the river monsters.

  ‘Somnato,’ cried a commanding voice.

  The blows stopped instantly. Astonished, Alex turned round to face the room. A tall figure rose from the high-backed armchair which had shielded him from sight. The man appeared to be about thirty, curly black hair tumbling down to his waist. A wide streak of white hair scorched backwards from his forehead. The face was strong, with high cheekbones. Silver writing writhed over his loose black shirt, letters forming lazily as they snaked their way across his chest. Swiftly Alex blocked his thoughts, unwilling to let a stranger into his head

  ‘Sleep spell. There’s no danger now,’ the man said.

  ‘Zorrin?’ asked Ikara.

  ‘Of course he is,’ said Skoodle. ‘He exactly matches the description Tariq gave us.’

  ‘Welcome. Rest yourselves,’ said the wizard.

  Alex collapsed into a nearby chair, legs in spasm, muscles screaming. He closed his eyes for a moment, sweat trickling down his face as relief washed over him. Every deep, painful breath reminded him that he was alive. Desperation fell away like a heavy cloak, loosening the tight band round his chest.

  After a few minutes he opened his eyes and surveyed his refuge. High-ceilinged, it wa
s lit by groups of slender candles each the height of a man. Heavy crimson rugs covered the flagstone floor. On one wall hung an immense tapestry depicting a snarling panther battling strange winged creatures, while goblins and trolls lay dying nearby. A fire of silver and blue flames crackled in the great stone fireplace.

  ‘Seems like heaven,’ said Alex, stretching his stiff legs out in front of him.

  ‘Haven, anyway,’ replied Skoodle. ‘Well decorated for a prison. How do we get back out? Jump over the playful old crocs?’

  ‘The crocodiles will remain unconscious. Forget them,’ said the wizard. ‘Tell me, why have you journeyed here?’

  ‘To bring you a message from my parents, Mark and Virginia Weston. They’ve disappeared. They said it was really important that you knew,’ said Alex, relieved to have this off his chest.

  ‘Also, we’re seeking the Sapphire of Akan,’ said Ikara. ‘Can you help us?’

  ‘Doubtless. But before we talk, eat and drink. As you see, food is ready for you.’

  Fragrant warm bread, bowls of steaming rice, hot chicken, a hand of bananas and an enormous bowl of golden-yellow ice cream appeared on a table near the fire. A huge pitcher of red juice sprang up in the middle.

  ‘Great,’ said Alex, struggling to his feet, but before he could get to the table there was a loud banging on the door.

  ‘Let me in,’ yelled Keeko.

  Alex ran to the door, opening it a crack, allowing Keeko to swing in. He slammed it and rammed the bolt home.

  Trembling, Keeko pointed at the man. ‘He’s an impostor. He’s not Zorrin.’

  ‘What would you know, ignorant ape?’

  Lifting his arm, the wizard pointed straight at Keeko. A bolt of purple light shot from the tip of his finger hitting Keeko in the chest, slamming her backwards. She screamed as she hit a wall.

  Alex flung himself on his knees beside her, not daring to touch her body in case any bones were broken. ‘You OK?’

  ‘No. I hurt.’

  Alex glared at the wizard. ‘Why did you do that?’

  The wizard raised an eyebrow. ‘The monkey is delirious. Perhaps it’s the air in the corridor, or maybe she has eaten something unwise. She needed to be tranquillised so that I can help her.’