He broke the surface, sucking air like a whale, and pulled Sarah to hischest. Cyrus wheezed and choked, fighting to keep Sarah’s head above water. Hepeered about. His eyes swam with stars.The boat! Where was the boat?
“Cyrus, over here, quick,” Edward said.
Cyrus turned and found their craft floating right behind them. He swamcloser and rested Sarah’s chest over the nearest pontoon. Then, struggling tocatch his breath, he climbed, kicking and clawing, back into the boat. ToCyrus’ relief, Sarah began to cough and hack up lake water, pulling in air in deep gasps. Cyrus hauled her from thepontoon and helped her climb aboard. She fell to the floor, cold and white, hersilver hair a mask across her sunken face. Cyrus noticed how her sopping dressclung to her slender body, the subtle swell of her chest. His eyes grew wide, and butterflies filled his belly. He lookedaway, his cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Thank you…” she whispered.
Then she passed out in a heap on the floor.
“Is she going to be okay?” Cyrus said.
“We have to get her to shore,” Edward replied, scurrying down the mast.
Cyrus scrambled, sopping wet, to the rear of the craft and began topaddle hard for the cave opening. His back ached from the pace, but still, time seemed to pass unbearably slowly.
When finally they reached the shoreline, they met a group of villagersarriving on a makeshift raft. Cyrus looked tothe crow’s nest. Edward was crouched down, a black and yellow dot on the top ofthe mast.
“Please, you must take Sarah to her father,” Cyrus said to the group, “Shenearly drowned and won’t wake up. Dr. Heiler willknow what to do.”
The villagers exchanged curious looks and muffled whispers at the sightof Cyrus’ floating contraption.
“She could die,” Cyrus pleaded.
After a moment’s hesitation, the group crowded around and lifted Sarahfrom the boat. Cyrus wondered if he should warn them about where they were headed. Then again, did it really matter? Either way, the villagers would surely blame him for their being on theforbidden side of the fence.
After several more hours on the lake, Cyrus’ search for Niels wasproving fruitless. Day was turning todusk. Most of the villagers had escaped the pit, paddling towards the cavern onobjects such as fence timbers and housing beams. Others clung to swimmingdonkeys and cows. The moon rose, and thesearch went on. Cyrus’ hopes wore thin. He tried to stay positive, struggled tostay hopeful, but he found that they were moving in circles, checking the sameplaces repeatedly. Cyrus felt time wasrunning out. He started to curse aloud.
“It’s going to be okay,” Edward said.
“It’s not going to be okay,” Cyrus shouted, kicking the boat, “Where theAngels is he? We’ve searched every laststick in this stupid lake, and we haven’tfound a thing. It’s hopeless.”
Edward spindled off the boom and onto Cyrus’ hand.
“Come on, Cyrus. You can’t give up hope.”
“Hope? What hope?”
Cyrus smashed a fist against the wooden hull. Tears formed in hismostly-blue eyes.
“I’m a useless bastard. My stepmom’s right. I can’t help anyone. Icouldn’t help Niels out of the pit. I almost left Sarah to drown, and I sure asAngels can’t help Niels now.”
He sighed heavily and sat with his face in his hands, while he and Edwarddrifted across the water with only the lantern light and cold air for company.
“Cyrus…” hummed a low voice from out of the blackness.
Cyrus was ripped from hisself-loathing stupor. He grabbed the lantern from the bow and held it high inthe air.
“Niels, is that you?”
Both he and Edward listened for a response.
“Can you see anything, Edward?”
The little spider leaped back ontothe mast and climbed to the top.
“Nothing from here,” he whispered.
“Cyrusss…”
This time it was closer. It came from the starboard side of the boat.Cyrus turned the craft and paddled in the direction of the lost voice. He foundhimself cutting a path through clumps of rubbish and muck.
“You see anything yet?” he asked.
The spider paused, then said, “Over there.”
Cyrus turned towards where Edward was staring. He saw nothing. He lookedback at the spider. Edward’s two eyes were fixed.Confused, Cyrus shifted to the front of the boat and shone the lantern high inthe air. He searched the water for whatever had captured his friend’sattention. Then he spotted it. There was something, or someone crouched on afloating tree. It was just outside the torch’s glow.
“Niels, is that you?” Cyrus asked.
“I don’t like this,” Edward whispered.
Cyrus motioned him to be quiet.
“Niels, please answer.”
Still, the person did not move. It hunched deathly still onthe decaying log.
“Edward, we have to help him.”
The spider scuttled down the ship’s mast and onto Cyrus’ shoulder.
“I don’t think it’s your brother, Cyrus. We should get away from here.”
Cyrus was not going to fail Niels a second time. He steered the shiparound a slowly sinking bed and bookshelf and rowed closer to the shape on the log.
“Niels, I’m coming.”
“This is all wrong, Cyrus.”
The figure slid towards them along the trunk. Cyrus stopped paddlingimmediately. No person moved like that.
“I told you,” Edward hissed, “Get us out of here.”
The creature began to uncoil from its crouch and rise to its fullheight. The lantern light glanced off its back, exposing its dark, smooth skin.Cyrus could see its spine through its thin flesh. He felt goosebumps rush up his arms. His chest tingled,then grew ice cold. The creature turnedits long, slender neck and looked back at the two. Its eyes flashed open andshone a dim blue.
“It’s the demon!” Cyrus gasped, falling back in the boat.
Its body was long and lean and its head slender, but the creature’sfacial features were difficult to detect in the darkness. It turned
