They broke apart and Derek spotted Rocky. He grinned and pulled Rocky into a rough hug. They broke apart and he gripped Rocky’s shoulders, his eyes shining.
“I knew you were the truest friend that James could have,” Derek said. Rocky glanced down, almost sheepish. Derek scanned the room, as if confirming he hadn’t missed James hiding in the dark corners. “Where is he?”
“He went after the stone,” Rocky said.
Derek nodded, like he had expected that. Katie thought she saw a glimmer of pride flash across his face.
Lychnus stepped forward. “We must go quickly, then. James is a brave boy, but if Calico reaches him...” He trailed off, but they all understood.
“Where are the others?” Leo said, pushing his hair out of his face. “Afectrus, Myrcellus, Toni, and Mungus?”
Auri answered. “They went with him, all of them. Except Mungus. He...” Her voice hitched slightly. “He’s dead.”
The Supers stopped, shock flitting across their faces. It must be inconceivable to them, Katie thought. One of their own dying. Even though Mungus had betrayed them, it must be painful to hear, a reminder of their own mortality.
Lychnus was the first to speak. “We will find out how later. We must move now.”
With that, they set off, out of the dungeon, away from the broken tubes. As they prepared for takeoff on the platform outside the base, Katie felt a sense of awe. Seeing them all immediately jump into action, despite having just woken up after weeks in a forced coma, was amazing. They thought nothing of themselves and their current state, only of saving James, stopping Calico, and, she supposed, of saving the world.
As they looked to the sky, ready to launch into the brisk mountain air, she thought, These are the real Supers.
Chapter 35
James climbed down and down. Soon, the hole of light at the top dwindled to merely a dot above him. He no longer heard the gunshots. He told himself it was because of the distance, not because the fight was over. Banks was still up there, holding his own.
All James heard now was the sound of his own breath and the jackhammering of his heart. The stone was cool beneath his hands as he found purchase in each carved rung. He moved carefully, aware of the bluntness of the rungs, the ease with which his hands could slip. He realized he might be the first person to enter here in over eighty years. It was a disconcerting thought.
Finally, his feet found solid ground. He clicked on the flashlight Banks had given him and swung it around.
He was in a large cave. Or a cavern. The flashlight beam illuminated rough stone walls and an uneven floor. Stalactites hung periodically from the ceiling, upside-down reflections of the mountains far above them. Water pooled deep on the floor, leaving only small, snaking bridges of stone.
He stepped forward carefully. The flashlight was powerful, with a wide beam, but it felt weak compared to the complete darkness of the cavern. It pressed down on him like a heavy blanket of snow, always threatening to overwhelm him. If the flashlight went out, he would be sent into a void of nothingness, with no sense of direction. He’d be lost and alone. He gripped the flashlight tighter.
A thin stone bridge cut through the water, and he edged along it, glancing at the water below. The flashlight beam shone against the surface, but it was impossible to tell the depth. The water was a mirror in its perfect stillness. It could be ankle-deep, or it could go down for hundreds of feet. Either way, James preferred to avoid it.
At the end of the land bridge, the water ended and the stone floor sloped slightly up. Small crevices were scattered along the cave wall, some as thin as his hand, others wide enough for him to squeeze through, all disappearing into eerie darkness. He shone his flashlight in a few of them but saw nothing good—only the promise of getting lost far beneath the earth.
In the corner of the cavern, a much smaller pool of water slightly bigger than a jacuzzi sat on its own. It was perfectly round and still. James stopped next to it, unsure of where to go. Everything in here seemed completely natural, untouched by humans. But someone had been down here; someone had built the ladder and the secret passage. Surely there was some sort of mark, a signal, any sort of clue.
Something on the wall caught his eye, and he quickly swung the light beam back. On the wall directly above the small pool was a painting, like the cave paintings of prehistory. But this wasn’t faded—it was vibrant. It could’ve been painted yesterday. It depicted the head of a Makara. The creature stared sideways at James with a wide, white eye. Its mouth was open. Its strange, tentacle-like snout, edged with stripes of black and gold, rose and curled above it. A tongue, long and rigid, shot out between its white teeth. It looked like it was reaching for its prey, ready to devour it.
James stared at it for several moments, trying to decipher what it meant. But deep down, he knew the answer. It took ruling out every other option for him to admit it to himself.
This was the last challenge.
He crouched by the pool and shone
