The Eye of Neptune (5 page)

Another thud shook the
Makara
. Dakkar saw a small crank handle and a red button set into a brass plate in the roof of the craft. A small label dangled from it, bearing the symbol of a skull and the words
Use
only in emergency. Turn twenty times and press
.

Grabbing the handle, Dakkar jagged it round and round. The hammering outside grew more intense. The planks that formed the hull seemed to be shaking even more
. . . Eighteen, nineteen, twenty.
Dakkar stabbed his thumb into the red button.

A loud bang accompanied a blinding flash of blue lightning that illuminated the whole cavern pool. Shadowy semi-human forms flew back from the craft. Dakkar could see them floating face down in the water.

Electricity
, Dakkar thought. Oginski had shown him a friction machine a few months ago – a wheel that you turned and it produced sparks. Dakkar had touched it and yelped as the charge numbed his finger to the knuckle. He smiled fleetingly at the memory. Then frowned at the strange, murky shapes that floated outside.
I must have electrocuted them.

Dakkar looked back inside the
Makara
.
It was lucky the handle was labelled.
He stopped and frowned. Every device had a label tied to it. He hadn’t noticed before.
Why did Oginski do that?

A letter lay on the seat next to him. Dakkar picked it up and read it.

Dakkar,

If you are reading this, then my fears have been realised. You are in great danger but you can use the submersible that you christened the Makara to escape. You are a clever lad and will work out her controls.

There is much I would like to tell you but I haven’t the time and, for some of those things, I need to look you in the eye and hope you give me the chance to explain. Maybe we’ll meet again but I fear that may not be so. Return to your father if you can, and live a good life.

Your mentor,

Oginski

Tears stung Dakkar’s eyes. He gave a great gulping sigh. Oginski had known something was going on. That’s why he had been so preoccupied and angry.

A distant
boom
vibrated through the water, snapping Dakkar to his senses. The intruders from above were trying to get through the cellar door again. Turning the
Makara
round, Dakkar peered through the porthole, searching for the underwater tunnel he’d spotted when he first submerged yesterday.

Seaweed rippled to and fro at the jagged tunnel entrance. It made Dakkar think of a sleeping sea giant’s mouth, the fronds of his beard waving back and forth as he breathed in and out.

Bracing himself, Dakkar pushed the lever to
Full Ahead
, thrilling at the whirr of the engine and the sudden acceleration. The
Makara
shuddered, slowing a little as she hit the current spewing out of the tunnel. Then the tide sucked the water from the pool, dragging the
Makara
through into the darkness. Dakkar winced as the sides of the hull rattled against rock. He wrestled with the wheel to keep the boat steady but the scraping grew louder. Suddenly, the current changed and Dakkar flew forward against the wheel as the tunnel spat the
Makara
back out into the pool.

Another muffled thump told Dakkar that the metal door above was about to give way. He didn’t have time to battle with the tide.

Panting, Dakkar climbed out of the seat and wound the engine handle tight. Then he climbed back in and pushed the lever to full power again. Water bubbled around the portholes and Dakkar was pressed into his seat as the tunnel mouth rushed closer. Again the current sucked the
Makara
back in. He fixed his eyes on the centre of the black void, hoping to keep clear of the edges. A thud reverberated through the boat, followed by an ominous screeching of stone on polished planking. Dakkar adjusted the speed as the tunnel wall dashed past him. Then, yet again, the current changed, sending the
Makara
hurtling backward. It clipped the mouth of the tunnel as it did so and went spinning back into the pool.

Dakkar thumped the wheel in frustration.
The
Makara
just doesn’t have the power to escape the tide! Why would Oginski build such a marvellous ship in here if he knew she would be stuck?

‘He wouldn’t,’ Dakkar said aloud. The one thing he knew about Oginski after four years of learning by his side was that the man was a perfectionist. ‘So there must be another way out.’

Dakkar steered the
Makara
along the edge of the pool. Fish flitted out of the way and sea anemones fringed the water.

‘There!’ Dakkar whispered. On the other side of the pool, long fronds of what looked like seaweed obscured another hole in the wall.

As he came closer, Dakkar saw that the fronds were strands of cloth and leather, covering a gap that was too square to be natural but only just big enough for the
Makara
to fit through.

Another
boom
and a crash vibrated through the water, alerting Dakkar that the iron door had given way. There was no time to worry about the size of the entrance or the speed he was going. Dakkar sent the
Makara
full ahead, and the fronds of false seaweed smacked the portholes and brushed along the top of the boat. Then she stopped dead, sending him hurtling against the wheel. Pain lanced through his cheek and chin, and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

Dakkar sat back, wincing as he touched his split lip. The
Makara
was still moving forward! The hum of the engine inside had stopped though, and now Dakkar could hear the clank of ratchets on the outside. The boat shook as it was dragged along some kind of track fixed to either side of the cavern wall.

A clanging noise came from behind the boat and Dakkar watched through the portholes as the water level fell. The
Makara
juddered some way along the track and then came to a halt. Dakkar stared out on to another huge cavern, lit from above by a shaft of daylight. He frowned and pressed his bruised face to the porthole glass. The
Makara
rested on a rounded wooden platform.

Another mechanical clunk made Dakkar start. The
Makara
began to sink into the platform. Dakkar tried to pop the lid but the lever held fast. He looked out again as the sinking stopped with another loud thud.

His fingers sweaty and slippery, Dakkar heaved at the lever to open the lid. He scanned the roof and sides of the boat for any clue as to what was happening. Would he be trapped in here, left to slowly suffocate or starve?

He frowned. Flush to the floor of the
Makara
, behind the seats, lay a brass hatch lid. Two handles fitted snugly into recesses cut into the lid. Dakkar pulled them up and turned the lid clockwise. With a hiss, the lid came up and Dakkar stared down in amazement.

Beneath him, a ladder ran down into a room very much like the inside of the
Makara
. It was like being inside a giant barrel that lay on its side. Brass bands held polished wooden planks in place. Everything fitted together so closely that Dakkar saw it was all watertight. A chair and a small bed stood in one corner next to a table and a map cupboard. Crates of supplies and skins of water hung from the curved walls of the room. It seemed that the
Makara
had been lowered into a bigger version of herself.

Dakkar slid down the ladder and ran to the huge portholes at the front of the larger craft. The sea sloshed against the larger
Makara
, waves breaking over a pointed nose encased in metal. It was facing towards an opening in the cavern wall across a lagoon of water.

Turning round, Dakkar noticed a large crank handle in the centre of the back wall of this larger vessel. He estimated that this lower room only took up two thirds of the craft.
The rest must be the engine
, he thought. He ran across and tried to turn the handle. It didn’t move. It was wound tight and ready to go.

‘I wonder,’ Dakkar said aloud, and climbed back up into the smaller craft. ‘The two
Makara
s must fit together, the small one controlling the larger one.’ Dakkar tried to imagine the gears and cogs turning in the back of the larger craft but his head still throbbed from banging it before.

Settling into the seat, he pushed the lever to
Full Ahead
. Behind him, the engine began to whirr and click. Below, a clanking sound grew into a deafening rattle and then a hum as the
Makara
surged forward.

Dakkar had never moved so fast. The cavern walls, stalagmites and white foam flashed by. Then clear daylight streamed in through the portholes, dazzling Dakkar for a moment. He spun the submerging wheel and gave a yell of joy as the
Makara
plunged into the waves of the open sea in a confusion of spray and bubbles.

For a moment, he forgot the horrific events of that morning: Oginski’s cries, poor Mrs Evans, the crab and the strange fish-men. Only the foam and the water rushing past existed, the silver shoals of fish swirling out of the way. Dakkar stared, amazed, as a whole world flew by. Dolphins raced alongside, their bodies undulating as they struggled to keep pace with the
Makara
. Dakkar laughed aloud.

A terrible thought broke through his exhilaration, and he slammed the boat to a halt and surfaced. Only the small section of the
Makara
broke the surface; the vast bulk remained below.

In the distance, on the cliff, the castle burned.

Mrs Evans was dead, murdered by the hideous man in the hall. Oginski had been taken. A tight band of guilt closed round Dakkar’s chest. Tears scalded his cheeks as image after image of the deadly encounter in the castle forced its way into his mind.

Why did this happen? What can I do?
The questions rolled over and over in Dakkar’s mind, like the waves that lapped against the sides of the
Makara
.

Dakkar knew. ‘Blizzard,’ he said, staring at his reflection in the porthole. His dark hair was matted with sweat and tears stained his cheeks, but his eyes blazed with fury. ‘Blizzard is to blame. Whoever that man was in the hall, he worked for Blizzard, I’m certain. Blizzard said he would return.’

A cold numbness enveloped Dakkar. He steered for the castle and waited just beneath the surface.

The afternoon passed slowly. Oginski had told him to flee to his father, but first he would make Blizzard pay.

Blizzard had said that his ship was moored in Fullacombe Harbour. By Dakkar’s reckoning, it wouldn’t have passed the castle yet. The day was dying rapidly – the fire on the cliffs burned more brightly, reflecting the fire in Dakkar’s heart.

Soon the darkness out to sea seemed so complete, so full, absorbing everything. In the large lower cabin, Dakkar found a hatch up to the front of the
Makara
. He popped his head out and squinted into the blackness, listening hard above the roar of the waves and the slap of water against the side of the boat.

A feeble bell rang the hour. Dakkar caught his breath.
A ship’s bell!
In the darkness a deeper shadow drifted by, her sails ghostly white in the moonlight. With her rows of cannon along her side, she was unmistakably a warship.
It has to be Blizzard’s ship!

Dakkar climbed back into the
Makara
and pushed the power lever to
Full Ahead
. ‘Now I’ll send Blizzard and all his men to their deaths, and serve them right!’

Chapter Six

Collision Course

Dakkar gritted his teeth and set the
Makara
on a collision course with the warship. In his mind’s eye, he saw the submersible ramming into its side, the sharp metal-encased nose of the
Makara
splintering the planks. Men falling into the sea. Rigging collapsing to the deck. Fires raging in the hold.

He pushed at the lever. Blizzard would pay.

A memory of Oginski sprang into his mind, from soon after his arrival at the castle. He and his mentor were sitting on a rough outcrop of rock high up on the cliffs, their feet dangling over the waves that battered at the rocks way below. Dakkar felt small but anger blazed in the pit of his stomach.

‘You ran away again!’ Oginski said, his voice low. ‘That’s twice in two weeks.’

‘But you teach me nothing,’ Dakkar snapped. ‘I do nothing but swim in this freezing sea all the time. I hate swimming. I hate the sea! What use is that to me?’

‘Why did your father send you to me?’ Oginski asked.

‘To learn how to drive out those who would interfere with our country,’ Dakkar said. ‘To take revenge on those who try to crush our people!’

‘He who takes revenge often sacrifices himself,’ Oginski murmured. ‘Does a great leader trade blow for blow? Or does he become wiser, more powerful than his enemies?’