Page 43 of The Goblin and The Dancer
Paul shoved Grik and Rosanna ahead of him and then dove in behind them, struggling as his knee suddenly gave out. Grik and Rosanna grabbed him by the hands and pulled, yanking him through the entrance and into the crevice. They lay there in a tumble of shaking bodies, but Paul was up in a moment, hurrying the other two and forcing them to crawl back farther.
One of the kraken’s disgusting tentacles had lunged after them, the sucker cups moving along the walls with a revolting slobbering sound as the monster hunted for prey.
They cringed back, squeezing themselves into the suffocating space of their hiding place. Grik threw himself in front of Rosanna, though he was quaking from head to toe from terror. Paul leaned forward, in front of both of them, and struck at the tentacle with a rock that he snatched up from the wet slush of grime and water beneath them.
The tentacle withdrew, and a squealing roar of pain and frustration sounded in the cavern. For a second, they were safe.Until the kraken tried to reach them again.
Grik and Rosanna clung to one another unashamedly.Rosanna had shut her eyes when the tentacle had plunged into the crevice. She opened them now as she and Grik looked at one another. Grik hugged her tight, trying to comfort her and hoping she couldn’t feel the beating of his own racing heart.
“Everyone all right?” Paul asked, almost casually.
Grik shook his head repeatedly—he was most definitely not all right—but the soldier wasn’t looking at him. He was examining their hiding space, as if searching for another exit. Paul straightened his bad leg, bracing it on the opposite wall and propping himself up in the narrow space as he glanced at Grik and Rosanna. He wiped seawater from his face and stared towards the cave mouth. The kraken roared again, and Paul’s brow furrowed as if he had just been issued a challenge.
“Well, we can’t stay here,” he murmured. “That thing won’t go away in a hurry, and we can’t afford to miss the tide.”
Grik didn’t understand how the soldier could sound so calm. He felt he was going to be sick to his stomach.
That first encounter with the kraken this afternoon had faded after the subsequent horror in the tunnel—like some part of a distant nightmare. It seemed so unbelievable, even unfair, that they could possibly encounter a kraken a second time.
“What was that thing?” Rosanna whispered.
“A kraken,” said Paul grimly. “I’ve never seen one until today. There’s a reason I joined the army instead of the navy.” He actually laughed, a quick puff of irony, and Grik goggled at him in astonishment.
“You don’t think it could be the same one, do you?” Grik asked anxiously. “How could it follow us?”
“Who knows?” Paul muttered. “We’ve seen it ourselves; this underworld is a maze.” He cocked his head as another roar sounded outside in the cavern. “Sounds pretty angry, though, so I’m guessing it’s the same one we shot and stabbed earlier.”
Grik remembered again that sense of depth beneath the surface of the pool, the vision of many tunnels beneath the layers of rock that a beast might be able to squeeze itself through in an insatiable hunt for revenge—and he shuddered.
“That was the thing you fought in the cave?” Rosanna stammered, her face white.
Grik rubbed his aching head and nodded.
Paul peered through the crack at the flailing shadows in the cave. His face was solemn as he leaned back. “All right, this is what we’re going to do. I’ll distract it, while you two swim for the entrance.”
This declaration was like a slap for Grik’s frazzled nerves. He shot upright and blurted, “Oh no, you don’t!” Grik grabbed Paul with both hands, half-afraid the elf might dive out of the crevice that moment and get himself killed. “There has to be another way! You can’t—”
“Grik,” Paul said quietly. “I know how to fight. Trust me, this is what I do. This is what I am.” He didn’t look afraid when he said it, only strangely glad.
“Please don’t go out there,” Rosanna whispered. “Please don’t.”
Paul’s look for her was infinitely gentle. “I’ll follow you, I promise.”
Grik searched Paul’s face for any sign of despair or anger. Was this willingness to sacrifice himself because Rosanna had made it clear that she loved Grik and not Paul? Was it because he could no longer go back to the army and didn’t think life would be worth living when he would always be in pain?
No, Paul wasn’t that type of man—Grik knew that now. The soldier didn’t have it in him to give up. He really was a hero.
Grik stood slowly, water splashing around him in little murmurs as he straightened to his full height. “I’ll go with you.”
“You know you can’t,” Paul said quietly, drawing his sword.
Grik bit his lip. He knew what Paul meant. Rosanna couldn’t get out of the cavern by herself. Well, perhaps she could; but he couldn’t let her try alone. It was up to him to protect her.
Rosanna was crying, reaching out for Paul as if to stop him.
Paul’s hand met hers halfway, and he squeezed it. He smiled at her reassuringly before letting her go and turning towards the entrance and splashing forward. “Take care of her,” he said briskly to Grik as he glanced back. “And be ready.”He paused, took a long breath, and then Grik saw his shoulders straighten before he plunged out into the cavern and towards the kraken.
Rosanna and Grik looked at one another, their feelings for Paul in their eyes.
