Page 88 of The Queen's Huntsman
Málik growled deep in his throat, flicking the wisp with a hand, but he sighed and disengaged, promising, “Later.”
Something like joy threatened to possess Gwendolyn’s heart at his promise, but she pushed it away, refocusing on her anger for Locrinus, too much diminished in the wake of Málik’s confession. This was not the time to lose her head. Now was the time to keep her resolve.
As much as her father had loved her mother, it never kept him from his duty, nor did it keep her mother from doing hers.
Quickly, on the heels of Málik’s confession, he’d spoken yet another truth—one she must not allow herself to forget, because it could well be the only truth she could afford to embrace.
You cannot possibly understand how wrong we are together.
It cannot be.
But that is not what his lips said, and despite that, Gwendolyn frowned because there was something else he was keeping from her—something Esme knew as well, but as yet had not shared.
The water rose to perilous levels.
Gwendolyn had never been here to watch it rise from this vantage, and she did not know how far it would go, nor if it would leave them air to breathe.
She suspected the only way to escape the rising tide was through the conduit itself. But once the lower conduit was filled, it would be virtually impossible to remove the blades.
Moreover, she had no way of knowing whether the lower blades were too waterlogged to displace. She wasn’t too concerned with the higher ones, because it had doubtless been quite some time since the salt baths were filled, and they were probably brittle. But if she failed to enter the shaft, and the water in the cavern rose high enough—perhaps too high to give her time to sustain a breath to make it back down through the cavern and out—drowning was a distinct possibility.Don’t think about that right now,she told herself.
Just swim.
Gwendolyn did, and when she was near enough, her fingers searched for and grasped the small ring built for this purpose—to steady the engineer whilst he worked on the first blade.
Without being asked, Málik’s Faerie lights adjusted themselves so she could better see. One flew up the conduit and the other remained beside her, illuminating her workspace, while Málik held her steady below. All the while, the water grew more and more turbulent, bouncing off the far wall and returning to toss and tug at her.
Gwendolyn worked on the blades, even as the water rose high enough to slap the pipe extension that was constructed to begin the siphoning. Made of soft copper, easily welded and molded, the hollow structure was sadly warped from so much wear, encrusted with a layer of corrosion.
Intuitively, she understood the tide must rise at least high enough to submerge the first blade, or else the conduit would not have enough suction to begin. But she suspected it rose as high as the first few, in case one of the blades broke.
The water screw itself was made of wood. Naturally, there were provisions made so the blades could be removed and repaired because they, too, deteriorated.
All she had to do was remove one side of each blade, leaving the other.
It would not be a simple matter, but she could and would ascend via the blades like a ladder, making her way up through the conduit, until she reached the reservoir.
So long as the blades came free, the way should continue unobstructed.
There was another small opening above the reservoir, so the engineer could emerge there, rather than have to wait to descend through the cavern below.
Fortunately, there was a little more room within the shaft than she’d initially believed. The contact surface between the screw and pipe did not need to be watertight, so long as the amount of water being scooped with each turn was large enough compared to the water leaking out of each section of the screw per turn. If water from one section leaked into the lower one, it would be transferred upwards again by the next segment of the screw. It was a brilliant, yet simple invention, designed for easy repairs.
The first blade was swollen from continued contact with the water and stuck in its groove, but fortunately it cracked and broke away with the weight of Gwendolyn’s body as she tugged.
Thereafter, she found it easy enough to remove each of the blades as she ascended, with Málik following close behind.
Before them, behind them, went his Faerie lights, and Gwendolyn was never more grateful for their help. Without them, she soon came to realize, the conduit may have been her tomb.
Scarcely had she released the second blade when the foaming sea water entered the shaft below, slapping vindictively at the sides of the copper pipe, lapping viciously at her hips.
Once Gwendolyn was free of the first blade and moved up to the next, she had to bend to take Málik’s hand, pulling him up, so his head wouldn’t be made into a bell clapper.
For another moment, his head was trapped between her thigh and the shaft.
“I know you don’t wish to be commanded,” he said. “But please hurry.” He flashed a grin, and Gwendolyn had a sudden recollection of those sharp, pointy teeth skimming the flesh of her throat.
Gods.She told herself the shiver it gave her was because of the cold, frigid water, and blinked away the memory even as she moved on to the next blade… and then the next…. and the next… until the copper ended abruptly and the rest of the conduit was encased in solid granite. Meanwhile, as the water rose along the pipe, the sound of it rang like a death knell.
