Andy broke the surface with a huge shuddering gasp. He wasted no time in leaping over the edge of the trench. Scrambling on all fours like a frightened crab, he raced toward his cell. He was dimly aware of figures standing at the end of the hallway, pistols drawn, but he didn’t have time to think about them. The Dingonek was amphibious, and it leapt right out of the water. It was hot on his heels, its gigantic crocodile-like form slamming down on the flagstones just inches from his left foot!
Andy knew he would never make it to his cell in time. The creature was faster than he was and, as evidenced by Rusty’s arm, would bite him in two the first chance it got.
He fumbled with the chain and raised the boatswain’s whistle to his lips. At first, there was no noise other than water bursting through the hole. But then a high, piercing note rang through the prison corridor.
Andy heaved and collapsed on the floor. Blowing the whistle had taken every last ounce of breath he had possessed. He glanced behind him and saw that he’d deciphered the poem correctly. The Dingonek, huge and terrible, was writhing on the ground, gnashing its terrible jaws. A second later, it began to shimmer. And then, with a golden burst of light, it disappeared, leaving behind what looked like an ancient amulet.
“Get the artifact!” a voice shouted. Three guards rushed toward it, but Andy lunged for it just before they got there.
“Back off!” he shouted. “Or I’ll release it again, and this time it’s going for you!”
The guards hesitated, their eyes round with fear. A man dressed in a military jacket and goggles, who Andy could only assume was their leader, said, “Give it here, sonny. That belongs to us!”
“N-not anymore,” Andy said. His teeth had started to chatter because of the trauma and the chilly dungeon. “Get back and throw down your weapons.”
The leader nodded to the others, who tossed their pistols on the ground. They all backed up several feet, evidently terrified of Andy’s threat. Andy had no idea how to activate the amulet that summoned the Dingonek, but he didn’t want them to know that.
“Rusty, Betty, Dotty, Abigail, if you could help, please, I’d appreciate it,” Andy called.
His friends exited their cells, wide-eyed and impressed with Andy’s feat of courage. In spite of his weak condition, Rusty quickly gathered the pistols, keeping one and tossing the others to Betty and Dotty.
Andy nodded and ducked into his cell, eager to get his dry clothes back on. He shivered violently as he pulled on his shirt, trousers, and jacket. Inside, he felt triumphant. He’d accomplished something that had been nearly impossible!
While Rusty ushered the guards into one of the cells, Betty and Dotty found an old lock. The twins gagged and bound the prisoners with tattered rags that they’d discovered in a couple of old barrels, then locked the cell door.
Abigail rushed over to Andy and threw her arms around his neck.
“That was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen anyone do in my whole life,” she whispered. “I’m glad you made it.”
Then, suddenly, she kissed his cheek, and Andy felt all the coldness disappear as a warm glow suffused his cheeks.
Fortunately, the guards had left the door through which they’d entered unlocked. Andy knew Rusty was too weak to lead the group, so he volunteered to be first through the door.
“Stay close,” he said. The others nodded. Perhaps it was because of the courage he’d shown when confronting the Dingonek, but the others seemed to sense a change in him and didn’t question his leadership.
As they opened the heavy wooden door and went cautiously through, Andy wished again that he had his Zoomwriter. He wondered where it was. Did the Potentate have it locked away in her private chambers? Or was it lying in a box somewhere with all their other belongings?
Based on the way the leader of the Collective had recognized the pen’s value, Andy guessed that she probably kept it somewhere close at hand. He vowed that he would get it back from her—if he ever got the chance.
Beyond the wooden door lay a dimly lit hallway. Andy assumed that it was the same hallway that they’d all been dragged through when he and the others had been put in their cells. After ascending some steep stone stairs, they passed a room that looked like guards’ quarters. And then the passageway they’d been following stopped, abruptly ending in a wall of stone. Andy looked around. There had to be an entrance for the guards to come through. But try as he might, he couldn’t see anything.
“Where to now?” Abigail asked.
“I don’t know. There should be a door somewhere. Maybe it’s a secret entrance,” Andy said. “Everybody try looking for something that looks slightly out of place. It might be a stone without mortar around it, or a hidden switch.”
They scoured the walls. But after several minutes of searching, they still hadn’t found anything. On an impulse, Andy went back to the small room that seemed to be the guards’ quarters. Looking around, he saw a pair of iron bunk beds, a fireplace, a rough-hewn table, a small pile of rations, and a rather dull knife.
“Not much here,” he murmured. But then he spotted something out of place on the mantel above the blackened hearth. Hope flaring in his chest, he called back to the others, who were still searching the dead-end passage.
“I think I might have found something!”
The group filed into the small, dank room. Andy grinned. “Notice anything strange about this room?”
The others glanced around. Betty wrinkled her nose. “It smells like old socks.”
“Besides that,” Andy said.
“Looks like an ordinary setup to me,” Rusty said. “Typical soldiers’ quarters. Not too
