A rockjaw.
Coll stared at the wall. Lumpy, he thought. The wall was lumpy.
Oh no.
“Out of the water!” he yelled. “Back, back!”
Brann stumbled away. Coll felt a sudden sharp pain in his right ankle and looked down to see one of the rockjaws had seized his shin.
“Argh!” he yelped. He reached down with his left hand and dragged it loose, leaving watery red ribbons of blood. The creature immediately turned and tried to bite his hand, its teeth skittering off the metal. Coll threw it hard against the far wall and heard it clatter.
“What do we do?” asked Brann.
Coll didn’t know. All they had to do was reach the rope, but as he watched, more and more of the lumps on the wall slipped loose and fell into the pool. And more water was cascading down. Perhaps it would drain away, but how soon? He pointed his torch around and made out a sandy grey line on the cave wall about halfway up, and cursed.
“What?” asked Brann.
“I think that’s how high the water goes.”
Brann looked at him, and then at the grey line, and then at the pool of water, now frothing. “We have to get out of here,” she muttered.
Coll nodded. He took one more look at the rope dangling down. It was so close, so close… But there was no way.
“Back the way you went,” he said.
Brann turned and headed upwards into the next cave, and Coll limped after her. As he looked back, he saw a trail of blood coming from his ankle, seeping into the water. The pool was a metre deep now and rising fast.
The next cave was still dry, but as Coll shone his torch about he saw the grey line again. The water would seep in here too, or the pool would rise high enough to flow into it. They had to get out.
“Here!” shouted Brann at last, and Coll limped over. There was a crack in the wall, rough and narrow, leading to a tunnel. It was below the line but seemed to lead upwards.
“What do you think?” asked Brann.
Coll looked around desperately, but couldn’t see any other openings. He licked a finger and held it near the crack for a few seconds. Was there a breeze? He thought perhaps there was a movement of air. Perhaps from outside… And besides, what other choice did they have?
“You first,” he said. “Can you crawl?”
Brann looked at her wrist. Coll pulled off his cloak and made a sling. “This will hurt,” he warned her. She nodded and he pulled it tight. She whimpered and bit her lip hard, but didn’t protest. After he was done, she tested it carefully and nodded again. She could use her other arm now at least.
“Take the torch,” he said, and fastened it round her head. Then he helped her climb into the crack. As she turned away, his world vanished into darkness. Just flickers of torchlight and the sound of splashing water.
Brann clambered away and he followed in the dark. How long would it take for this cave to start filling up? How long before the rockjaw creatures came after them? He tried not to think about it. The tunnel rose on a gentle slope for a metre or two. Then it levelled off and, to his despair, dipped downwards.
“Can you see anything?” he called. The walls seemed to bounce his voice back and forth until it was just distortion and noise. Brann shouted something back, but he couldn’t make out the words. He could tell from her voice, though. Nothing. The tunnel narrowed and now Coll couldn’t crawl on his hands and knees any more. He had to wriggle like a snake. What if he got stuck? What if it became too narrow to go any further? The thought was horrible. Stone pressed in on him from all sides and he felt suddenly terrified.
I’m a Worm, he thought out of nowhere. I’ve become a Worm. He wanted to laugh but he didn’t dare. Somehow he felt that if he started laughing he might never stop.
Brann shouted something again.
“What?” he called. But before she could answer, something seeped past his knees, and then down to his hands like a cold stain. It was…
Water. The water had risen to the top of the tunnel and was now trickling down after them. How far back were the creatures? How long before they could swim and catch up with them? And then another thought – what if the water rose high enough to fill the tunnel?
He inched forward faster until his face was up against Brann’s boots. He wanted to push her, but he knew that wouldn’t help. But still, he wanted to, could hardly bear not to, and the water was rushing past him now. Surely it wouldn’t be long—
And then there was a black space in front of him. Brann’s torch moved in a crazy pattern, then shone back into his eyes and he was blinded. He held one hand up and the light moved away. Something reached for him – he realised it was Brann just in time to hold back a scream. She pulled him out of the tunnel. He tumbled out of the tunnel, and by the light of the torch he realised they were in another cave.
It was small. A rocky mound had piled up against the far wall, and a faint light shone down on it from a gap of sky a few metres above their heads. Coll and Brann scrambled on to the mound and looked up. It was too high. Too far to reach. There was no escape.
Below them, water poured out of the tunnel and into the cave around them, forming a moat. And as it did, the first of the creatures tumbled in with it.
Water spilled into the cave around them and the rockjaw creatures followed. Ten, twenty, a hundred, their mouths open obscenely wide, frothing in the water, the cave echoing with their furious snapping. Coll and Brann stood on the rock near the back, trapped.
“Can you climb up?” asked Brann, pointing at the tiny gap of sky above them.
Coll studied the walls. They were rough. There might be handholds… Then he looked at Brann’s wrist in her makeshift sling.
“What about you?”
“You could get help maybe,” she said. But she was trembling and he shook his head.
“No. Stand with me – we’ll hold them off.”
The water was close now, dark and deadly, filled with writhing shapes.
Coll searched for a weapon, and found two thick sticks. He handed one to Brann. “Shout!” he said. “They might hear us!” Leaning back, he bellowed up to the daylight. “HELLLLLLLPPP! HELLLLLLP!”
