“He said all that in one word?” Maldynado asked.
Books heaved a sigh. “Go stand watch, you uneducated lout.”
“You’re enjoying ordering me around far too much. I can’t believe I dove into a frigid glacier-fed lake for you. Next time I’m making sure Amaranthe puts me in charge.” Maldynado adjusted his belt and swaggered toward the head of the beach, though he paused to question Akstyr on the way by. “You didn’t really say all that, did you?”
“Naw,” Akstyr said.
Books turned his back on them and rested his chin on a fist. “What we need,” he muttered to himself, “is a diving bell.”
Perhaps he could make one, something they could lower down by rope that would be big enough for Akstyr and perhaps one other to fit inside. It would have to be spacious enough to cup plenty of air beneath its concave form. That would allow Akstyr to take short trips out to investigate the artifact. Unfortunately, the forest would not provide anything suitable for the purpose.
“I wonder what kind of tools and equipment are in the dam,” Books said.
An owl hooted, a cranky sound rather than the usual inquisitive one. Twilight lay thick amongst the trees, and more eyes than the owl’s glowed from the shadows. The effect was…eerie.
“Should we light a fire?” Maldynado asked.
“It’d be visible from the soldier camp,” Books said.
A mosquito nipped at Books’s neck, and he slapped it with more urgency than normal. What if being bitten by something that drank the water could pass along the strange symptoms?
“Do we care?” Maldynado asked. “Maybe they’ve got some hard cider or brandy over there. When the forest is full of creepiness, humans should band together.”
Something that sounded like a dog whining came from behind them. Books turned his back to the lake. He could no longer make out Maldynado and Akstyr’s faces.
Leaves rustled. A thunk came from Maldynado’s direction, the sound of a hammer being cocked. Books tensed.
“It’s us,” Amaranthe called.
Three figures appeared out of the darkness.
“Find anything, Books?” Amaranthe asked.
“Not yet, but I have an idea.” He explained his diving-bell concept.
“That would provide enough air to stay down long enough to study the device?”
She sounded more impressed than disbelieving, and Books allowed himself to feel a touch of pride. Had she not heard of such a thing? Perhaps all the trivia nestled in his brain had a use for this group after all. He went on to detail the historical precedent, citing instances where diving bells had been used within lakes as well as the sea. Maldynado groaned several times during the spiel, but Amaranthe listened patiently.
“You think you can make such a thing?” she asked when he finished.
“I should not wish to oversell my manual abilities, but-”
A hand clamped over Books’s mouth.
“Yes,” Maldynado said. “Yes, he can make it.”
Books shoved his hand away. “I need supplies. I’m hoping I can find them in the dam.”
“And I’m hoping we don’t have to spend the night out here amongst the plagued and eerie,” Maldynado said.
Silence fell after their words. Amaranthe faced Sicarius for a long moment. He said nothing, as usual. Books wondered what she got from exchanges with him.
“Something wrong?” he asked when the silence continued.
A retching sound came from the woods. A snarl followed, then a snapping of jaws and a squeal of pain.
“Wronger,” Maldynado said.
Sicarius spun and fired into the dark. Books jumped. Something dropped to the ground. Wordlessly, Sicarius reloaded.
“The dam may not be safer than the forest,” Amaranthe said, “but if your supplies are there, we will go.”
Books’s earlier pride faded as he wondered what trouble his idea would land them in.
CHAPTER 18
T he iron door opened soundlessly on oiled hinges, uncovering a narrow tunnel. Though night had fallen over the lake, a denser darkness waited within.
Amaranthe adjusted her rucksack and steeled herself. “Who’s got the lamps?”
Metal clanked as Maldynado and Basilard withdrew lanterns from their packs. Amaranthe checked her rifle, missing the familiar heft of her crossbow, but she feared these creatures would be even less affected by her quarrels than the forest animals. Best to take firearms. Or maybe cannons.
“Ready.” Maldynado held his lantern aloft.
“Let’s get in, find Books’s supplies, and get out as quickly as possible,” Amaranthe said. “We’ll let the soldiers handle the creatures.”
“If they can,” Akstyr muttered.
The tight passage would force them to walk in a single line. While Amaranthe was debating whether it would be pusillanimous to suggest she and her tasty female organs should let someone else lead, Sicarius headed in first. She thanked him silently and followed.
Inside the tunnel, the scent of mildew permeated the air. Maldynado’s broad shoulders brushed against the gray concrete walls. Rifles and rucksacks scraped and bumped in the confining space.
The passage sloped downward as they traveled deeper. Moisture beaded on the ceiling and rolled down the wall. In spots it dripped with such enthusiasm Amaranthe feared for their lanterns’ flames.
“Should this place be leaking this much?” Maldynado asked.
“This dam would have been constructed one segment at a time,” Books said, “leaving enough room between the joints to allow for the expansion and contraction of the materials in cold and warm weather. Some seepage is to be expected. See that drain in the floor? The design would have-”
“Yes,” Maldynado said, voice raised to cut Books off. “The answer to my question is yes.”
“Forgive me,” Books said. “I thought you might wish to educate yourself on something besides womanizing and drinking.”
“Not at this particular moment.”
Sicarius lifted a hand and stopped. Amaranthe thought he might tell the men to shut their mouths, but he tilted his head, listening.
Gunfire. The concrete and the omnipresent roar of water muffled it, but the sound was distinct. Multiple weapons firing.
“At least we know the soldiers are still alive,” she said.
“That’d be more reassuring if we didn’t have bounties on our heads,” Books muttered.
A deep, guttural bellow sounded in the distance.
“I don’t think that was a soldier,” Maldynado said.
Amaranthe tried to see Basilard, who walked at the end of the line, but the men blocked her sight. Did he recognize the bellow? Was it one of the creatures?
Sicarius was the one to answer her unspoken questions. “Makarovi.” He met Amaranthe’s eyes. “Continue?”
She waved him forward. “We have to find Books’s tools.”
Less than a minute later, the tunnel ended in a large chamber, perhaps a cavernous one. The weak flames of their lanterns did little to pierce the darkness more than a few meters away. The walls and ceiling disappeared in blackness. Only the roar of water flowing over their heads proved barriers existed.
