“There’s something different about you,” Jonezy said as I touched ground behind him on the second pillar. “What are you up to?”
“I can’t imagine what you’re talking about,” I said. Matilda and I had agreed not to tell Jonezy about our plan just yet. If there was nothing to be found on the fourth pillar, there was no reason to worry him, and Matilda didn’t think he would let us go if we said anything about our plans.
But Jonezy had been right to spot the familiar Warvold sparkle in my eye. The rope was a beginning, but how was it used? And if we could get there, what secrets would we find on the fourth pillar?
CHAPTER 11
FLIGHT TO THE FOURTH PILLAR
The next morning, Ranger woke me at the crack of dawn. He was wet as usual, but it wasn’t the smell of a wet dog that woke me up this time. Ranger had slept in front of the door, wrapped snuggly around the broken skimmer from the night before. He had set the skimmer quietly and carefully in front of my face, nudging it forward until it touched my nose.
“What are we going to do about this dog?” I said, wiping the smell of slobber off my face. Matilda was sleeping next to me—it was her bed, after all—and I heard her stir and sit up.
“I wish I knew,” she said. Then I looked at her and laughed out loud.
“That’s quite a head of hair you’ve got,” I said.
I could only see her nose. Everything else was covered in a tangled cloud of curls. She parted the spirals of hair that ran like a mop over her face and peered out.
“It’s cozy in here,” she said. Then she rolled off the bed, walked out the door, and jumped in the lake.
When I heard the splash, I sat up and felt just how sore I was. My shoulders and arms were tender and aching. I hadn’t realized how much strain skimming had put on my body.
Matilda came back, dripping wet in her shorts and shirt.
“Don’t do it,” I said. But it was too late. She had hold of her long hair and was ringing it out over my head.
“Feeling a little sore, are you?” she asked, taking notice of the way I was rubbing my own shoulders.
“Very sore, actually.”
“Well, there’s nothing like an exploration to cure a little pain. Let’s go find Yipes.”
We ate smoked fish and also grapefruits, though we didn’t really eat the grapefruits so much as drink them. Matilda showed me how to cut a small hole through the peel, then squish the grapefruit in my hand as I turned it in a circle. When I put my mouth over the hole in the peel and tipped the grapefruit up in the air, I enjoyed the sweet and sour taste of cool juice.
We expected to return by nightfall, so we brought only what we absolutely felt we would need—two grapefruits, water in a familiar-looking jug, some dried fish, a small knife, and a length of rope.
“Don’t spend the whole day howling your head off,” said Matilda. She was down on her knees with her arms around Ranger. “Go visit Jonezy. He’d love to see you.”
Ranger barked as if he was about to go on a big adventure, but we couldn’t take him with us. He’d have to stay behind whether he liked it or not.
I felt a new sense of confidence as we set off. I had my bearings and knew where things were. I knew the way to the first pillar with its groves of trees and fields of crops. I could see the third, fourth, and fifth pillars standing in a row before me. The thoughts of seeing Yipes in the village and sneaking in a run or two of skimming made me happy. I was starting to get used to this place, and I was desperate to find a way to save it from Abaddon.
Soon we were crossing the vine bridge, listening as Ranger whimpered to be included. He was still barking loudly when we reached the other side and dipped down into the skimming pillar. I had the great thrill of skimming down to the village, the wind bringing little tears to the corners of my eyes.
“I wonder if Yipes is up yet,” I said when we came to the village of cottages at the bottom and worked our way through the winding paths. It was very early, only an hour past sunrise. “It can be challenging to wake him.”
A familiar but unwelcome voice came from the windowsill of a house we passed by.
“You’re wandering around early this morning.”
It was Marco, sounding as bothersome as ever.
“Looking to get in some practice before the next night skim?” he asked in a most unfriendly tone.
“I know what you did,” I said, glaring in his direction.
“You mean the little mishap with your slider last night? I can’t say that it surprises me. After all, you did bring that monster to our doorstep. What sort of welcome did you expect?”
“You’re terrible!” said Matilda. “And you should be ashamed of yourself for putting any skimmer in danger.”
“So long as we’re accusing each other, maybe we should ask Alexa what happened to Roland Warvold. What do you say, Alexa? What happened out there on the Lonely Sea?”
I kept walking, angry enough to punch him and knowing I’d better keep moving.
“And by the way,” cried Marco, leaning out the window, “say what you want, but I didn’t cut your slider.”
“You expect us to believe you?” I yelled back. “Everyone knows you hate Yipes and me. Just leave us alone!”
Marco was about to say something else, but other heads were popping out of windowsills and looking on, wondering what all the fuss was about. I felt badly that we’d made so much noise so early, especially after the night skim, which had gone very late the evening before.
“This way,” said Matilda, taking me by the arm and leading me down a path that led to a cluster of small cottages. “He’s just afraid of what changes are coming. Give him some time.”
“Time for what? To devise another way to get rid of me?”
We came to the windowsill of the smallest cottage of them all, and Matilda leaned her head inside.
“He’s snoring,” she said.
I was still upset and didn’t answer.
“Wake up, Yipes,” Matilda said in a soft voice.
“That won’t work. You’ll need to hit him over the head with something heavy.”
Matilda looked at me like I was really overdoing it, and I realized how childish I was acting.
“Don’t let Marco get to you so much,” she said. “He would never do anything to really hurt you. He’s not that bad.”
I walked to the door that led into Yipes’s cottage and pushed it open on squeaky hinges.
“Doesn’t anyone live here?” I asked, curious why it had been empty before Yipes arrived.
Matilda looked awkwardly at me for a moment before answering.
“This is where Roland Warvold used to stay when he came to the third pillar. There’s another place on the first pillar where he also lived, but sometimes he liked to come here and watch the skimmers. He liked that he couldn’t see the Lonely Sea from down here. It seemed to take his mind off things after a long journey.”
The cottage took on a new meaning for me then, and looking inside I had a deep sense of longing for Roland to return. It was so simple inside—hardly anything at all. I walked in and saw that there was a chair and a table set neatly with things to write letters. And there was a drawing pinned up above the desk. It was of two small figures standing before the towering Wakefield House.
“I know that place,” I whispered. Matilda peered in through the windowsill from where she stood outside.
“Have you been there?”
“Only in my dreams, but Roland told me all about it. Those two figures, those are Roland and his brother Thomas when they were boys. I think Thomas must have drawn it a long time ago.”
I stood looking at the drawing and the desk, feeling the sadness Roland must have felt. His long separation from his only brother and the long days passed on the stone pillars or out at sea. Adventure, I knew, could be lonely sometimes.
I took a pen from the writing table. It was the kind that needed to be dipped in ink in order to work, but it had long since dried up. It was sharp
as I touched it to my finger.
“You wouldn’t dare,” said Matilda.
“Oh, but I would! He should have been up an hour ago, and instead he’s making us wait. I think he deserves a little prod to get him up and moving.”
I crossed the room and looked at Yipes. He was really snoring up a storm, and his shoeless toes were sticking straight up in the air. I poked his big toe with the pen, probably a little harder than I intended to.
“Back, you beast! Back!” he cried, sitting up in bed. Then he flopped back down and began snoring again.
“Unbelievable,” said Matilda.
I poked the pen into Yipes’s big toe once more, and this time he rolled over and fell out of bed. Hitting the floor seemed to do the trick. He wobbled back and forth, yawned, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. When he saw it was me, he smiled.
“Good morning, Alexa!” he said, standing and rubbing his shoulders, which must have ached as much as mine did. He took an old hanky from his pocket—one he’d carried all the way across the Lonely Sea—and he blew his nose with great enthusiasm.
“Where’s Matilda?” he asked.
“She’s watching you from the windowsill.”
Yipes turned and saw Matilda, who smiled and waved good morning.
“Oh!” said Yipes, hastily wadding up the hanky and stuffing it into his pocket. “Good morning, Matilda. I didn’t see you there.”
There was more chatting as Yipes gathered his things and we began our journey to the outer edge of the third pillar. It wasn’t so very far, but it was an uphill climb all the way, and we stopped at three or four stone shelves as we went. Each time I wanted to turn around, take my skimmer in my hands, and fly down the vines that hung ready to be ridden. And each time, Matilda reminded me that we had to keep moving, that there was an even more thrilling flight awaiting us at the edge of the third pillar.
When we were near the top, I looked back and saw that someone was following us from a distance. The figure was yelling something, but I couldn’t hear what it was. It might have been Jonezy or Marco, but either way, they were at least twenty minutes behind us.
“Hurry now,” said Matilda. “We don’t want to have anyone trying to stop us.”
“Are you sure we shouldn’t wait?” I asked. “I think it might be Jonezy trying to tell us something.”
“If it is Jonezy, he’ll only try to stop us from going,” said Matilda. “He’ll think it’s too dangerous.”
Yipes looked at me and gulped nervously.
“Is it too dangerous?” I asked. We had arrived at the coiled rope, and Matilda was examining it.
“It’s different than skimming,” she said. “And, yes, it is dangerous. Especially given our new guest at the bottom.”
I wasn’t close enough to the edge to peer down and see if Abaddon was still there, but it seemed very quiet and still on the Lonely Sea, so I got the feeling the monster was not in sight.
“This rope is what remains of the bridge that once spanned the distance between here and there,” said Matilda, pointing across to the fourth pillar. We weren’t standing directly across from it. Instead, we were back a few hundred feet along the rim of our own pillar.
“The rope is attached way back there,” said Matilda, pointing this time down the long line that ran off into the distance along the edge. “If my calculations are right, we should be able to jump here and the rope will carry us on an arc to the bottom, then lift us high enough to grab hold.”
“Grab hold of what?” I asked. Yipes was being awfully quiet while I questioned Matilda, which made me think he’d already been through all this with her the night before. My suspicions were confirmed when Yipes spoke up next.
“On the other side, part of the old rope bridge remains.”
Hanging down like the long tail of a giant dog were the frayed remains of rope and wood planks on the fourth pillar.
“I’m going to swing across and attach this rope to the other side,” said Matilda. “I’ll climb partway up and then the two of you can skim across the open sea.”
I started to protest—it sounded extraordinarily risky—but Matilda seemed sure she could do it.
“Do you remember when the Warwick Beacon came under attack?” she asked.
I nodded, knowing what she would say next.
“I was able to swing down and get hold of Yipes, and this will be easy compared to holding on to him while I was hauled back up to the second pillar.”
I wished Matilda had been the one to save me, not Marco. I had to imagine that he regretted his decision now.
Yipes had been very quiet while Matilda and I had talked. Turning to the edge, we both saw at once what he was up to.
“I’ll see you on the other side!” he cried. “Wish me luck!”
And then he ran along the rim of the third pillar and jumped into the air, the rope held firmly in his hands.
“Yipes!” Matilda and I screamed at once. We both got down on our hands and knees and crawled to the very edge of the pillar, terrified at what would become of Yipes as he sailed down toward the Lonely Sea. We saw that he was free-falling, gaining speed as he descended along the rock wall of the pillar. If not for the fact that all the pillars curved in at the middle in varying degrees, he would have almost certainly been dashed against the cliffs leading up as he sailed past.
“Why would he do that?” said Matilda.
“Because he likes you. He doesn’t want to see you get hurt.”
“But …” said Matilda, unable to think of anything else as she watched the rope unwind from its coil with a loud whishing noise.
“I think he’ll be all right,” I added. “He’s good at things like this. You should see him climb a tree.”
The coiled pile of rope came to an end and the long line that ran across the third pillar began to disappear over the edge, pulled down by the falling body at the other end. The remains of the rope bridge on the other side ended lower than the top of the third pillar where we waited. It had been cut free from the third pillar, and the whole of the bridge hung lifeless on the other side. If only Yipes could attach the rope he sailed on to the bottom of the bridge, Matilda and I could skim to the other side. After that it would only be a matter of climbing what amounted to a long ladder up the side of the fourth pillar and taking the rope with us. Once we reached the top, we’d be above the third pillar again and we could skim back across. As long as one of us remained on the fourth pillar, we could get back and forth in this way. But the most dangerous part was under way—getting the rope across for the first time—and Yipes had taken it upon himself to accomplish this perilous task.
“This is the really important part,” said Matilda, watching Yipes intently. “There’s going to be a lot more force on the rope than he realizes when it catches and he swings up. He may not be able to hold on.”
And just then, as I should have expected, the voice of Abaddon was ringing in my ears.
Wait until you see how far out of this water I can come. Say good-bye!
“NO!” I cried, inching forward.
“He’s doing fine, Alexa. He’s going to make it!”
“You don’t understand!” I screamed.
As Yipes reached the very bottom of the length of rope, he was nearly halfway down the side of the third pillar. The fourth pillar was taller than the third, but even with the extra length, he seemed shockingly close to the Lonely Sea as he started swinging back up on the other side.
Abaddon was watching, for he burst violently from the water, timing his ascent to match the lowest point of Yipes’s fall. And it was as if the monster had gained speed from far below and kept going when it reached the surface of the Lonely Sea. Abaddon flew through the air, arms thrashing and clawing in every direction, until a hundred feet out of the water he latched on to the fourth pillar and began to climb. It was awful to hear the sea monster clang and clamor as it climbed much more swiftly than I’d seen it do before. It was frighteningly fast—like it was holding its brea
th and needed to move quickly to accomplish its terrible task—and it was gaining on Yipes as he slowly arced up toward the top of the fourth pillar.
“What’s going on here?” came a voice from behind us. As if things weren’t complicated enough, there stood Jonezy, out of breath from climbing. Anger flashed in his eyes.
“Faster, Yipes! Faster!” I yelled. Jonezy crawled over and saw for himself the scene that was developing before us.
“What have you done, Matilda?” he said.
Abaddon saw that Yipes was moving out of his reach and he moved even faster, the sound of metal on stone filling the still ocean air. And then Abaddon surprised me once more, leaping into the air and coiling into a metal ball covered with razor-sharp corners and jagged steel spikes. The ball spun hideously, spewing boiling black water as it went.
“He’s going to make it!” said Jonezy. “He’s almost there!”
The three of us watched as the gargantuan metal ball flew straight for Yipes and then unfurled. The arms were out again, reaching for Yipes as they exploded into flames. At the very last possible second, Yipes raised his legs up over his head, pointing his toes into the air and gaining speed. Abaddon flew past, sheering the dangling rope that hung below Yipes. An uncanny, horrible sound wrenched the sea air as Abaddon fell away, crashed into the Lonely Sea, and clawed at the water with furious anger.
I wanted to jump for joy with Matilda and Jonezy, but Yipes’s battle wasn’t won yet. He was just reaching the top of his flight, and if he missed catching the remains of the rope ladder hanging on the other side, I wasn’t sure what we’d do.
“Come on, Yipes. You can do it!” cried Jonezy.
Yipes was a long way off now, but I could see his position well enough to know that it was anyone’s guess if he would swing high enough. He was slowing down as he rose, and the wooden rungs and knotted ropes of the old bridge were still at least thirty feet over his head.