Behind the Canvas (26 page)

Claudia rolled her eyes. Of course she wasn't an
Artisti
. And yet … Pim thought she was. So did Nee Gezicht. Was it possible to have incredible talent without ever knowing it?

“What would have happened if I'd drunk the whole cup?” she asked.

“Then you would not be here right now. You would not have been able to break the binding. It would have held you long enough for her to prepare the ironweed and charcoal and to reap your will completely. She's desperate for someone like you, Claudia. Since I reclaimed my will, she has nothing to draw from but her own power. She will start to fade soon, and she knows it.”

She shivered. “Will she still be able to tell me what to do, like she did with my feet?”

Pim's eyes filled with concern. “The effects of witch hazel tea take time to wear off. It's possible she can—and next time she won't underestimate your strength. Let's not give her the chance.”

“Hey,” Cash called. “We getting outta here, or what?”

Pim stepped cautiously to the doorway. “Have you seen anything down here? Heard anything?”

“Just whispers upstairs and water downstairs. This place is almost as creepy as the Southern Forest, I'll tell you that much.”

“All right,” Pim said. “Let's do it here and now.”

Cash glanced up at Claudia. “You smell like cat.”

“Yeah. I could've used your help up there. It was big and mean.”

“Naw,” Cash replied. “I'm allergic.”

Pim rushed out into the sunlight and the others followed. The light filled Claudia's vision for half a minute before her eyes adjusted and she could make out the sandy horizon and the dilapidated architecture surrounding the towers. Pim pushed the sand away from a group of stone blocks next to the base of the tower. He laid the staff like a bridge across two of the larger blocks that sat several feet apart. Then he bent down and lifted a block the size of a large watermelon. Straining, he held it for a heartbeat over the staff and then slammed it down.

It hit with a
crack
right in the center of the staff.

And then the moan started. It emanated from the staff, low and rumbly at first, but then it grew louder and louder like a ghost with a megaphone until Claudia had to clamp her hands over her ears. Pim winced and let the block fall to the sand. Cash covered his head with his paws. The sound continued for nearly a minute, vibrating Claudia's bones, until it faded away.

“What was that?” she asked.

“I don't know,” Pim said. “Some type of alarm, perhaps. Maybe it's calling to its master.” He snatched up the staff and together they examined it.

No break. No dent. Not even a scratch.

Pim laid the staff back in its place on the stones and picked up the block, slamming it down again. The staff skittered a few inches across the stones but otherwise didn't even bend at the impact. And the terrible moan started once more.

This time Pim didn't hesitate. Sweat glistening on his forehead, he bent down to pick up the stone block again. Claudia reached down to help him, although it was much heavier than it looked. They held it high over the staff and thrust it down as hard as they could.

Still no mark.

They picked up the stone again, this time forcing it up above their heads before slamming it down.

The moan continued.

Again they picked it up, but Claudia's arms were already feeling rubbery. She and Pim barely lifted it two feet above the staff before letting it slip from their fingers.

Nothing.

Pim's face dripped sweat, and his eyes were wild and desperate. He lunged forward to grab the staff, knocking her to the ground. She scrambled out of the way as he hefted the staff high like an ax and slammed it down hard on the large stone block. In an instant it was above his head again, then down, then up again. He cried out with each blow, a sound so guttural and pained that it made her heart hurt for pity.

The staff was a blur as he rained down a series of blows on the enormous block until the stone was pocked and chipped and dust clouded the air.

The staff remained unscathed.

And the moan continued.

Cash stepped protectively to Claudia's side. She reached down and scratched behind his ear to let him know it was okay, although she wasn't entirely sure herself. Finally Pim dropped to his knees as his arms fell limp. His breathing was rapid, his face empty. The staff's moan faded and disappeared.

She put a hand on Pim's shoulder. “I'm sorry, Pim. There's got to be another way. Something else that can break it. Maybe if we get an ax or a saw. Or fire.”

Pim rocked back and forth, mumbling to himself. “Fire might work. But she's had centuries to layer protections onto this staff. Centuries. It's a lot stronger than I expected. It's not going to be broken or destroyed by ordinary means. We need a solution that's unnatural. Or supernatural.”

“Just gnaw on it for a while,” Cash said. “Ain't never met a bone you can't suck the marrow out of if you just gnaw on it long enough.”

“You'd break all your teeth, Cash,” Claudia said.

“Well,
I
wasn't going to try it.”

“No,” Pim said. He slowly rose to his feet, looking at Cash. “The talking fur ball has an idea. And I know just the set of teeth that could do it.”

Before Claudia could ask what he meant, a wail sounded farther out in the desert. It was distant but unmistakable.

“The Fireside Angel,” Pim said, his own voice echoing the dread she felt.

“Spades and britches,” Cash mumbled.

Pim stepped away from the base of the tower and shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked out over the sand into the heart of the desert. Claudia followed, hoping he was wrong. She and Cash had barely escaped that beast earlier. It was a long way back to the forest, and out here in the desert there was no place to hide.

Two figures dotted the horizon. One ran with a loping rhythm, arms and legs flailing wildly. The Fireside Angel. Next to it was a massive round creature that rocked side to side as it charged across the sand.

“Celebes,” Pim said. “Why did she have to bring Celebes into this? If he's coming this way, she'll be with him.” He dashed back to the stone blocks and picked up the staff.

“Who's Celebes?” Claudia asked, following. “And who's he bringing? Nee Gezicht?”

Pim nodded. “She's coming for the staff. And for you. We need to be fast. We'll take the Corridor.”

Cash whimpered. “Not much of a water dog, myself.”

“Then give my regards to the Fireside Angel,” Pim said, lifting the staff and rushing back into the tower.

Claudia quickly scratched Cash behind the ears for comfort before they both followed.

“Where are we going?” she asked. “What's the Corridor? Like a canal?”

Pim shut the tower door firmly and pushed them toward the stairwell that led belowground. “You'll see. Faster. We need to hurry.”

She scrambled down the stairs, Pim holding on to her elbow to both steady her and move her along. After descending several stories, she heard a steady roar coming from below.

Water. Lots of it.

The stairs let out onto a short beach of rocky, gray sand. The light from the stairway trickled down to illuminate the scene. It was dim and there was little to see. The narrow span of beach was blocked on both sides by smooth walls of stone. Beyond the beach hurried the white water of a river. The rushing noise of water that filled the cavern was intense and dangerous. The river was wide enough that the light didn't reveal the other side. Beyond it, everything fell into blackness.

It didn't look like much of an escape route.

“What, are we going to swim for it?” Claudia asked.

Cash whimpered again.

“There's a metal stake and chain buried in the sand,” Pim replied. “Find it fast!”

Before Claudia could ask why, Cash leaped forward. He scampered across the sand, nose to the ground. Back and forth he paced. Then he stopped short of the waterline and began to dig furiously. Within seconds, a rusted metal stake appeared beneath his paws, wrapped by a length of chain that continued into the sand.

Pim jumped toward it and grabbed the chain. “Not bad, puppy dog.” The chain broke through the sand and led into the water. Pim pulled. The chain snapped to the side and went taut, as though connected to something downstream.

Claudia stepped up beside him and pulled, the lapping waves soaking through her shoes.

A mass appeared from the darkness, floating on the water. They pulled it closer, against the current.

It was a small fishing boat, just big enough for several people. Its red surface was covered with plates of poorly fitting sheet metal, dented and rusted and anything but waterworthy. A thin mast rose up from the center of the boat. Pim reached out and hauled its prow up on the beach.

“We're going in that thing?” Claudia said. She was a decent swimmer—in a swimming pool. But falling out of a boat into a moving river was something else.

“It's our best chance. This is the only boat here. They can't follow us this way.” Pim moved to the boat and picked up the oars.

Claudia and Cash looked from the boat to each other, his eyes reflecting the doubt she felt.

“Well, come on,” Pim urged.

Claudia huffed and climbed into the boat, annoyed more with herself than with Pim. After everything she'd been through the past two days, it seemed silly to be afraid of a river.

Pim handed her the staff, and she sat on the wooden bench in the back of the boat. “Cash!” she called.

The dog shivered on the beach and then ran and leaped into the boat, tucking himself between her feet.

“Hold on tight,” Pim said, untying a thin rope that connected the boat to the chain. He huffed as he pushed the boat backward, scraping it along the rocky shore until it floated free in the water. Then he jumped aboard. He pushed the oars into place on the oarlock. “Here we go.”

The current of the river picked up the boat and shoved it forward as if it were a leaf. Claudia knew her knuckles must be white as she gripped the sides, but she couldn't see them or anything else. They shot forward into darkness as the underground corridor swallowed them whole.

Yes, it seemed silly to be afraid of a river, she told herself. But careening down a river at terrifying speeds in the pitch black—that was something to be afraid of.

 

C
HAPTER
23

I
N THE
complete darkness of the Corridor, the small fishing boat picked up more and more speed until the wind whipped Claudia's hair off her shoulders. She stretched her arms across the boat and gripped the sides with both hands. Pim grunted and struggled with the oars, trying to keep the boat even and moving in a straight line as the current thrust it forward.

A shriek echoed through the tunnel. The Fireside Angel. Claudia pictured him standing on the beach they had just left. Hopefully he didn't swim.

The boat crashed into something on the left and one of her hands jarred free. “Pim!” she cried.

“It's going to be rough for a bit. Hold on!”

Claudia squinted into the Corridor ahead, wishing for a glimpse of what they were heading into, but all was black.

The boat whipped to the right and immediately struck a rock or a wall on the opposite side. She tightened her grip and the boat bucked violently as they plunged forward into the spray. Wind and water slapped Claudia across the face and she gasped for breath. The roar of rushing water filled her ears. They had to be flying at an incredible speed—it was the feeling of riding on a roller coaster but without knowing whether you'll make it to the end of the ride.

The boat tilted forward and dropped suddenly, and her stomach was practically wrenched from her gut and left behind. They fell through the air, and Claudia held tight as the drop lifted her from the bench. They slammed again into the roiling river, water sloshing over the sides and flowing through her shoes. Images of rapids and waterfalls came to mind, with people flying down a river in rubber rafts with helmets and life vests and other things she didn't have.

Another drop, smaller, this time. And then the boat shuddered to a sudden stop, breaking Claudia's grip and sending her sprawling to the lower boards. The boat whipped around 180 degrees and was held in place at the base of the waterfall by something unseen in the darkness. The intense flow of the river forced the bow downward, and water came rushing over the side. It was cold and strong and Claudia's arms flailed, frantically grabbing for anything to keep from being washed overboard.

Her outstretched fingers brushed the staff tumbling in the water, and she latched on to it. Her other hand connected with the base of the mast. Water sprayed and coursed over her, and it was all she could do to keep her grip. Cash yelped.

“The painter's snagged!” shouted Pim.

She didn't know what that meant, and if he said anything else, she didn't hear it. The boat was flooded now as water poured in and over and out again in a constant cycle. The roar of the waterfall pummeled her ears, and water that tasted strongly of oil paint filled her mouth. She coughed and struggled to find air.

She was going to drown. Any second now, the waves would break her grip on the mast and pull her beneath the troubled water. She felt her fingers slipping.

Then the boat jerked and lunged forward like a sprinter off the line, forced onward by the torrent that had pounded them. They spun and dipped—water everywhere—and it was impossible to tell if they were sinking to the bottom of the river or floating on top.

“Almost out of it!” Pim shouted.

The boat twirled, dropped slightly one last time, and then the madness stopped.

The roar faded slowly behind them. The boat continued to rock, but it was gentle, bobbing.

“Pim?” she cried out, uncurling in the pool of water on the floor of the boat. “Are you there?”