Darren Shan - Volumes 5 and 6 - Blood Beast/Demon Apocalypse

“It doesn’t look so difficult,” Bill-E argues. “I say we try it and go as far as we can. If we run into difficulties, we’ll come back later with climbing equipment.”

“Why risk it?” I press. “Let’s wait until the weekend, stock up, then –”

“You ever used any of that stuff before?” Loch asks. “Boots, ropes and so on?”

“Well, no, but –”

“Me neither,” he interrupts. “Spleenio?” Bill-E shakes his head. “If we’re going to do that, we need to practise,” Loch says slowly.

“So we practise. It means a delay, but –”

“What if someone comes along in the meanwhile, finds this and claims it for their own?” Loch cuts in.

I glare at him. “I hate the way you set out on one side of an argument, then talk your way completely round to the other side.”

Loch laughs. “You’re too conservative, Grubbs. I share your concerns for our safety, but the Spleenster’s right. If we take it easy, advance cautiously, stop if we feel it would be dangerous to go on…”

“What if the batteries in the torches die while we’re down there?” I ask stiffly, fighting a losing battle but determined not to give in gracefully.

“I replaced them last night,” Bill-E says. “They’re all fresh.”

“Genius,” Loch murmurs, then grins at me. “It can’t be that deep—old Sheftree needed to be able to get up and down with his cases of treasure. The angle’s not too steep. And there are loads of toe- and finger-holds.”

“Let’s try, Grubbs,” Bill-E whispers. “We won’t do anything foolish. You can call it off if you think things look dicey. We’ll follow your lead. Promise.”

I hesitate and check the time. Glance up to where the moon will soon be appearing. I place my right hand on the rocky floor, feeling for vibrations, but there aren’t any. I think of all the dangers—then of the treasure, if it’s there, if I’m wrong, if this isn’t a place of magic, if I’ve been imagining hidden perils.

A deep breath. A snap decision. I grab the big torch from Bill-E. “Let’s go.”

→Descending slowly, testing each foothold firmly before settling my weight on it. Coming down three abreast, me in the middle, Loch on the left, Bill-E on the right. Loch complains several times about not having a light of his own, but Bill-E refuses to relinquish either of his torches. I’ve been to his house. I know that Ma and Pa Spleen keep several torches around the place, ever fearful of power cuts, determined never to be left stranded in the dark. He could have easily brought another torch for Loch. A mistake or intentional oversight? I don’t enquire.

It’s stuffy down here, warmer than I imagined. The air’s not so bad though. I thought it would be stale and thin, but there’s a good supply of it. Easy to breathe.

Part of me knows this is madness. It screams from the back of my head, reminding me of what happened last night, the face, the whispers, the throbbing today. It wants me to assert myself, demand we make for the surface, tell Dervish, leave all this for experienced potholers to explore.

But a larger part thinks it’s thrilling. We’re the first humans to come down here in decades. In fact, if the others are wrong and this wasn’t used by Lord Sheftree, maybe we’re the first people to ever find it. Maybe it will turn out to be an amazing geographical feature and we’ll get to name it and be on the news. Reni would really dig being a celebrity’s girlfriend.

You’re an idiot , the cautious part of me huffs with disgust.

“Put a sock in it,” I grunt back.

→I lose track of time pretty quickly. Have we been down here ten minutes? Twenty? The hands of my watch are luminous, so I could check. But I’m not going to start fiddling around in the dark, rolling up my sleeves, leaning forward to squint. I’m keeping both hands on the rock face and all my senses focused on the climb.

I go carefully, one hold at a time. Foot-hand-foot-hand-foot-hand-foot. Bill-E and Loch are the same. We don’t speak. My torch hangs from my right wrist by a strap. The light bounces off the rocks. I’d have to stop, turn around, lean back and point the light down to get a clear view of what lies beneath. But I’m not going to do that. I’m taking no chances. The thought of slipping… sliding… tumbling into the unknown…

Foot-hand-foot-hand-foot-hand-foot-ha –

I touch ground. Or a very large overhanging rock. Can’t tell yet. “Wait,” I call softly to the others, who are slightly higher than me. “Let me feel around a bit. I think…” I extend my foot outwards. More rock. I tap it—solid. Gently lower my other foot, still holding tight to the wall. Gradually letting my full weight shift to my feet, I release my grip and stand unsupported. The ground holds and my stomach settles.

Bringing up my torch, I shine it around and gasp.

A cave. Not the largest I’ve ever been in, but a reasonable size. Lots of stalactites and stalagmites. A waterfall to my right. I should have heard the noise before now, except my breath and heartbeat were heavy, muffling my hearing.

“Grubbs,” Loch hisses. “Are you OK? What is it?”

“I’m fine,” I whisper, then raise my voice. “It’s a cave.” I shine the light on the floor around my feet, making sure I’ve truly struck bottom. I spot the shovel which Bill-E dropped. “It’s OK,” I tell my friends. “You can come down.”

They detach themselves from the wall and stand beside me. The light from Bill-E’s torches mingles and crosses with mine and we gaze around in awed wonder.

The formations are beautiful, some of the most incredible I’ve ever seen. Water drips slowly from the tips of many stalagtites, so this is an active cave, still growing. I recall lectures from a couple of class trips to caves. It can take thousands of years for spikes to form. Thousands more for them to alter. If I lived to be a hundred and came back here just before my death, this cave would probably look no different than it does right now.

“It’s amazing,” I sigh, taking a step forward, head tilted back, looking up to where the roof stretches ahead high above us. “How can this have been here all this time… hidden away… nobody knowing?”

“The world’s full of places like this,” Bill-E answers even though I wasn’t really asking him. “We only see a fraction of what’s on offer. People find new caves, mountains, rivers, all the time.”

“OK,” Loch says loudly, shattering the mood. “It’s a lovely cave, beautiful, glorious, la-dee-da-dee-dum. But I don’t see any treasure.”

“Peasant!” Bill-E snarls. “ This is the treasure. You couldn’t buy a cave like this, not with all the gold and diamonds in the world.”

“I don’t want to,” Loch says sourly. “What good’s a damp, dirty cave? I’ll settle for the gold and jewels.” He looks around and spits. “If there are any.”

Bill-E turns, temper fraying. I speak up quickly. “He’s right, Bill-E. Not about the cave not being worth anything—it’s amazing, beyond any price. But we came looking for a different sort of treasure. We should check to see if it’s here. If it isn’t, that doesn’t matter—we’ll still have found the cave. But if there’s treasure too, all the better.”

Bill-E relaxes. “Yeah, let’s look. The cave isn’t that big. If there’s treasure, it shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

We move forward, three explorers in wonderland. Even Loch looks impressed, although he isn’t blown away by the cave’s beauty in the same way as Bill-E and me. We stroke the rising pillars, fingers coming away damp. In certain places the stalactites and stalagmites have grown together to form giant, solid structures which join the floor and ceiling. One is wider than the three of us put together, a monster resembling a couple of massive chimneys.