wanted.
Six minutes without air! I sent a curse after the yellow-eyed beast, hoping that it would catch up with him. For another hour I couldn’t bring myself to do anything.
In the first place, I didn’t trust the Master, who was always scheming and intriguing, and now had suddenly decided to help me. If he wanted me to get the artifact now, why not send me straight to him?
In the second place, I was afraid of what might be hiding in the black water. And I wasn’t at all confident that I could stay underwater for so long. But I couldn’t just do nothing, could I? The walking dead were still waiting for me to come down to them, and they seemed to be showing signs of impatience. I didn’t want them to climb up to me.…
I’d have to dive in my boots. Yes, swimming like that would be awkward, but it would be even more awkward wandering round the Palaces of Bone barefoot. I’d have to sacrifice something for the sake of the boots. In order to make it a bit easier to swim. Of course, my jacket! I took it off, and I was left in just my white shirt. I took out the vials with spells that had got into the pockets of my jacket when I was sorting out my things in the Hall of the Kaiyu.
Three items. Two “frighteners”—the same kind I’d used in Ranneng, when the Nameless One’s gang was chasing us. The third one … the third one had black liquid in it, and Honchel had thrown it in free of charge (which was strange, to say the least, for a tight-fisted dwarf). Until now I’d thought I’d never have any use for it—the vial was intended to let you breathe freely underwater. But it would be very useful to me today, even if its effect did only last for a minute.
After the jacket, it was the crossbow’s turn. My hands touched my faithful friend for the last time and then, without the slightest regret, I put it down on the sarcophagus. Without bolts it was useless anyway, and I didn’t need any extra weight underwater.
What next? The knife? Probably not; parting with all my weapons would be the ultimate stupidity. I took my trusty razor out of my boot and put it beside the crossbow. It was the canvas bag’s turn next. I’d have to take it with me. If I made it to the Horn, I’d have something to carry it in. I ought to keep the tightly folded sweater and the drokr, too. As for the emeralds—away with them! Not all of them, of course. I kept the “eye” and just a quarter of the small stones. They didn’t weigh all that much. And I was delighted when my eye fell on the one and only light that had survived by some miracle in the bottom of the bag.
What else should I keep? There wasn’t really anything else. Kli-Kli’s medallion, Egrassa’s bracelet, and the elf-king’s ring weighed next to nothing, and I certainly couldn’t say the magical trinkets were unnecessary.
Well, that was it. I hoped that someday somebody would find the things lying here and they would help him.
It was time.
I stood on the edge of the coffin with my face to the wall and my back to the hall, went into a handstand, holding onto the edge of the tomb of the duke’s favorite cupbearer, opened my fingers, and fell five yards through the air, down into the pool.
10
The Level Between Levels
Ninety-eight. Ninety-nine. A hundred!
I surfaced, gulped in the air, and coughed. The evening sun was slowly sinking behind the horizon and there was no warmth in it at all. After an hour spent in the water, I was trembling and the only thing I wanted to do was to get out of the River of the Crystal Dream, dry off, and have a drink of something hot. Mulled wine, for instance.
“How long?” For’s voice asked, distracting me from my daydreams.
“A hundred forty-seven!” I lied, without batting an eyelid.
“Lies, you weren’t under the water for more than a minute.”
I gave my teacher a sulky look. For was squinting at the setting sun through half-closed eyes, like a cat, and gnawing on a little green apple.
“A minute’s a long time,” I protested, refusing to back down.
“Not long enough!” objected my teacher.
“It’s cold,” I said, trying to play on his pity. Uh-huh, some chance! It was easier to coax a gold piece out of a dwarf than to soften For’s heart during a lesson!
“What do you mean, it’s cold? It’s an exceptionally fine day.”
“Just try climbing in the water with me, and I’ll see how fine you think it is,” I muttered peevishly to myself, but For heard me.
“You’re a fourteen-year-old ignoramus, and you talk too much,” he remarked good-naturedly, and threw his apple core, which hit me right in the middle of the forehead.
“Why am I wasting my time on this nonsense, but Bass isn’t?”
“Because Bass will never make a decent thief.”
“And I will?”
“If you didn’t lie and argue so much, you might just manage it.”
“I don’t lie all that much!” I exclaimed indignantly.
“And you don’t argue much, either, I suppose?”
I had enough wits not to answer that.
“Come on, kid, carry on. You’ve still got time for another couple of dives before it’s time to go home.”
“All right, teacher,” I sighed miserably. “But what good is all this to me? I’m not a fish!”
“Being able to hold your breath is very important. Every second improves the chances of saving your life.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, if you get into a house and a trap with poisonous gas goes off, and you have to avoid breathing until you get out of the danger zone. Or if some sly fellow throws you off the pier. Tied up. And you need a little time to untie yourself. Or you have to dive under the water and sit there, so that no one can stick an arrow in you. See how many reasons there are to stop whinging and get on with your studies!”
“I’m not whinging! How long do I have to keep on ducking like this?”
“Until it’s no problem for you to sit there for at least two minutes.”
“Two minutes!” I gasped, horrified.
“But three’s better,” said For ruthlessly, to drive the message home.
“Three minutes!”
“Listen, Harold!” said the master thief, looking at me closely. “Did you decide to be my apprentice or not?”
“Yes, I did.”
“If you’re my apprentice, then dive! Time’s wasting.”
Uh-huh. That was exactly what I was after. The longer I could keep For talking, the less time I would have to sit under the water. The sun was almost hidden behind the sea that the River of the Crystal Dream ran into.
“I won’t be able to stay under for three minutes today, anyway,” I gloated.
“No, and not tomorrow, either. But don’t worry about it, kid, we’ve got all summer to practice, and when the cold weather comes, I’ll fill a barrel, and you can practice at home.”
A blow below the belt. I could see that my mentor would never leave me in peace until I sprouted gills and sat under the water for those damned three minutes. I looked at For resentfully, took a deep breath, and dived.
Ah, dear old For! Did my teacher know then that sitting in a barrel of water for hours at a time would actually save my life someday?
