The Eye of Neptune (4 page)

Then he sat back in the captain’s seat, secured the lid and whirled the submerging handle again. The craft pitched and rolled alarmingly and his ears popped as it began to sink. Bubbles and foam seethed around the portholes as they submerged but, gradually, a misty, blue landscape of rocks and swaying seaweed was revealed.

‘Astonishing,’ Dakkar murmured, staring out at the shoals of fish and the anemones clinging to the jagged rocks. In the distance, a dark opening scarred the wall of the cavern and the seaweed showed that the sea did indeed come in through there.

For some time Dakkar sat transfixed by the view through the portholes. Then, shaking himself, he scanned the controls.

A brass lever sat in a slot engraved with commands such as
Full Ahead
,
Slow
,
Backwater
and
Stop
. He pushed the lever forward to
Full Ahead
and the engine behind him whirred as the craft began to slide forward. Dakkar’s heart raced as the submersible’s speed increased. As it went faster, the cavern began to flash past him.

Dakkar pulled at the wheel, sending the craft lurching to one side and banging his head. In a panic, Dakkar twirled the wheel the other way, trying to correct the sudden turn. A huge pinnacle of barnacled stone loomed ahead.

With a yelp, Dakkar yanked the wheel towards him and the sudden upward tilt threw him back in his seat. The surface boiled above as the craft careered up the face of the rock. A wet slapping sound of weed hitting the hull told him how close he was to tearing the body of the craft against the rough stone. Dakkar’s mouth felt dry and sweat trickled down his back as he fumbled for the lever and dragged it to
Stop
. The craft came to rest and righted itself. The engine’s whine died to a muted tick, barely heard over Dakkar’s anxious panting.

A smile forced itself across Dakkar’s face, followed by a chuckle, and then he gave a whoop and punched the air, banging his knuckles on the roof.

‘That was incredible!’ he shouted, almost deafening himself in the small confines of the boat.

Oginski’s Patent Undersea Submersible
, he mused.
O.P.U.S. Not a bad name. But I’ll call you the
Makara
,
after the sea serpent ridden by Varuna, god of the ocean!

Once more he spun the submerging wheel and the engine blasted the water from the hollow hull of the newly christened
Makara
. Bubbles obscured the view and Dakkar’s stomach lurched as the
Makara
bobbed up to the surface.

Carefully, he guided her to the side of the pool and pulled the lever. The lid sprang up and Dakkar stiffened, suppressing a gasp.

Oginski stood glaring at him, hands on hips, his face a mask of anger.

Chapter Four

Nightmares

Dakkar hunched his shoulders and looked at his feet as he stepped out of the
Makara
. ‘I’m sorry, Oginski. I didn’t mean to –’

‘I turn my back for a few hours and you go sneaking into my workshop?’ Oginski said, his voice trembling with rage.

‘The cellar door was open. I saw the plans of the
Makara
and –’ Dakkar began.

‘The what?’ Oginski cut in, his eyes cold and narrow.

‘The
Makara
,’ Dakkar mumbled, his cheeks flushed. ‘That’s what I call her. She’s incredible –’

‘What’s incredible is that you didn’t drown yourself!’ Oginski spat. ‘It was a foolish and idiotic thing to do!’

Oginski marched Dakkar up the steps. It was all Dakkar could do to keep from slipping again. Tears stung his eyes. He felt once more like the ten-year-old who arrived at the castle.

‘You are to forget everything you saw today,’ Oginski snapped, pushing Dakkar into his bedroom. ‘The . . . the
Makara
, as you call her, is a prototype, and a pretty poor one at that. I’ll be scrapping her tomorrow.’

‘But, Oginski –’

‘As for
you
,’ Oginski interrupted again. ‘You can stay here without supper and think about how you can persuade me to trust you ever again!’

The door slammed and Dakkar heard the key turn in the lock. Dakkar hurled a pillow at it.

‘It’s not fair!’ he shouted. ‘Maybe if you had trusted me then I wouldn’t have been tempted to take her!’

The door remained locked and Oginski’s footsteps slowly faded down the hall.

‘I hate you!’ Dakkar bellowed, punching the remaining pillows and choking back the sobs.

Gradually, he stilled, grumbling until an uneasy sleep overcame him.

In his dreams, Dakkar was back in Bundelkhand, in perfumed palaces of carved marble fountains and silk cushions. He was hiding behind a thick silk curtain, spying. A huge black cobra swayed in front of his father.

‘My son grows soft,’ the rajah said to the snake. ‘His mother spoils him with treats. He does not see the difficulties of ruling an ungrateful mob.’

‘He is bright and ssstrong,’ hissed the cobra. ‘A keeeen learner and fassst.’

‘He spends too long in the classroom,’ his father murmured. ‘He should go out into the world. Learn to fight our enemies.’

‘Give him to me,’ hissed the cobra, swishing back and forth hypnotically. ‘I will make a fearssssome leader out of him. He will crush his enemies and demand the respect of hisss people.’

‘Dakkar!’ his father yelled. ‘Come out!’

‘Give him to meeee.’ The snake rose up and slithered around Dakkar’s feet, binding his legs. ‘Give him to meeee.’

The cobra seemed to grow and twist round Dakkar’s body, round his neck. Dry scaly skin enveloped his face, smothering him, plunging him into blackness. He couldn’t see; he couldn’t breathe. He tried to scream but his mouth was sealed.

Dakkar sat bolt upright, yelling. His bedclothes were soaked in sweat and yet he shivered. The screaming continued but it wasn’t him.

It was coming from downstairs.

Dakkar shook his head and rubbed his eyes. The grey of dawn trickled through the thick curtains. He could hear shouting, banging and clattering.

‘Oginski?’ Dakkar croaked, easing himself off the bed on to the cold floorboards. ‘Mrs Evans?’

Something crashed to the floor downstairs.

The door was still locked. Dakkar could see the key in the lock. Ripping the picture of the sea anemone he’d been drawing from the easel, Dakkar slid it under the door and thumped the keyhole from his side. The key clinked on to the paper. Dakkar gently pulled the paper back under the door, bringing the key with it. His fingers trembled as he fumbled with the lock.

Pushing the door open, Dakkar stumbled down the stairs. Broken glass and splintered furniture littered the hallway. The suits of armour that had always stood sentry were broken and scattered.

A tall, thin figure stood in the doorframe. With his hands he held Mrs Evans by the throat. Her lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling.

‘Ah, Prince Dakkar,’ the figure whispered, reminding Dakkar of the snake in his nightmare. ‘I was just . . . making enquiries as to your whereabouts but this lady seems to have died. Most inconvenient!’

‘Dakkar, run!’ Oginski appeared in the doorway, held by two burly figures shrouded in long black robes. ‘The
Makara
!’

One of the shrouded figures brought a fist down on the back of Oginski’s neck, sending him to the ground, senseless.

‘Take Oginski to the ship,’ the dark figure said, and pointed a finger at Dakkar. ‘Get the boy too.’

Dakkar leapt down the last three steps and landed at the foot of the stairs. The cellar door stood ajar again. The dark figure loomed above him and Dakkar threw his gaze back to Oginski, trying not to look at the slumped form of Mrs Evans.

‘Yes, run, Prince Dakkar, run,’ the figure laughed. ‘See how far you get!’

The scarred, hunched man from the tavern appeared from behind the dark figure and lunged at Dakkar.

With a yell, Dakkar scurried across the hall and through the cellar door, slamming it shut. Scrabbling with the bolt, he managed to slam it home just as someone crunched against the door.

A heavy thump echoed around the cellar, but Dakkar didn’t stop. He rushed into the dank room and through the iron door. Forgetting the worn, slippery steps, Dakkar staggered and fell flat on to his back, sliding down towards the pool. Every step battered his ribs, forcing the air from his lungs. Cold slime chilled his bare legs and his nightshirt rode up under his armpits, binding his arms, making recovery impossible.

Gasping for breath, he stopped at the bottom and, groaning, sat up. The hammering at the metal door above him stopped abruptly. Only his panting breath, echoing around the high roof of the cavern, and the suck and slosh of the tide could be heard. Dakkar frowned.
Have they given up?

Pulling himself to his feet, Dakkar glanced up the steps and then quickly turned back to face the pool. Something else was here with him.

A bony click accompanied the appearance of a long, stick-like leg from the water. Then another leg, and another, followed by a blue, spiny boulder with two black, beady eyes on stalks and mandibles that fanned the air. It was a massive crab. It rose up above Dakkar on its long spidery legs, clicking sharp pincers at him.

Choking down a scream, Dakkar threw himself back as the pincers whistled through the air, inches from his face. He landed on the steps behind him with a gasp. The crab scuttled forward, the points of its legs clicking loudly in the cave. Again, it stabbed with its pincers, slashing viciously through thin air as Dakkar scrabbled up the steps backward.

The crab scurried up the first few steps, scraping at the slick rock as it tried to get a grip. Seeing his chance, Dakkar lashed out with his feet, kicking its nearest legs. The crab slid down the steps and Dakkar rushed forward, leaping on top of its carapace. Claws snapped at him as he scrambled up and behind the creature, landing close to the
Makara
.

Dakkar’s fingers felt numb as he fumbled with the rope that held the boat, desperately trying to untie it. The crab had spun round now and scurried towards him again. Its claws grazed Dakkar’s leg as he threw himself to the other side of the
Makara
and untied the final rope.

Clinging to the top of the boat, Dakkar kicked out with one leg and sent the
Makara
drifting away from the edge of the pool. The crab, three of its legs on the boat, straddled the gap. Dakkar rocked, tipping the boat violently and nearly sending himself into the water. The crab scrabbled at the boat and the rocky ledge, trying to keep balanced. Gripping tightly to the rings that studded the
Makara
, Dakkar gave her another roll. This time the crab slipped sideways into the water with a splash that soaked Dakkar.

Without hesitating, he reached down and popped the handle that opened the craft. He slid inside, panting for breath as he slammed the lid down.

Something grated along the bottom of the
Makara
, reverberating through the entire hull. Dakkar shuddered as spiny legs grappled around the
Makara
, scratching against the portholes. The crab clung, upside down, from the hull.

He turned the starter disc in the centre of the wheel and slammed the brass lever to
Backwater.
The engine behind him began to click and whirr. Slowly, the
Makara
eased backward, but the weight of the monstrous passenger slowed her down.

‘Right,’ Dakkar hissed. ‘Let’s see how you enjoy this!’

He turned the ballast wheel, shrouding the
Makara
in bubbles, and it sank like a stone. The impact jarred Dakkar out of his seat as the ship rolled on top of the crab. Blood clouded the water, but Dakkar could just make out the creature’s legs floating free from the craft.

For a moment, Dakkar sat still, trying to slow his breathing and collect his wits. He sobbed as he thought of what had happened and all that he’d seen. Then he gave a scream as something whacked against the glass of the porthole nearest to him.

Dakkar’s scalp prickled at what he saw.

The crab’s blood still formed a dark red mist that obscured his view but he could make out a hand pressed against the glass. A large hand, the fingers gnarled and scaly. A thin film of webbed skin stretched between each finger. Another hand slammed against the window on Dakkar’s right, making him wince and whimper.

And this time a face peered in through the glass. Marbled, white eyes. A slit of a nose, and Dakkar had the impression of gills fanning the water behind an angular, scaly jaw. Dakkar would have said it was a fish but it looked too human.

More hands slapped at the portholes and thumped the body of the
Makara
. Whatever these creatures were, they were trying to get in.

Chapter Five

The Ingenious Tunnel

Gasping for breath and trying not to think of what might be outside, Dakkar scanned the inside of the
Makara
in search of something that might be used as a weapon.