Escape from Undermountain - Mark Anthony [63]
Breathing hard, Artek looked around. The rest of the zombie crew still went mindlessly about their various tasks, taking no notice that their undead shipmates had been destroyed, or that the prisoners were now free. The cursed saber jerked in his hands, tugging him toward the nearest zombies. Forcibly, he tried to sheathe the magical blade, his face twisting with effort. The muscles of his arms rippled and bulged, but it was no use-he could not release the saber. As long as there were zombies remaining, the cursed blade would force him to fight. The sword pulled him another step toward the nearest pirates.
"I can't resist the saber much longer," he said through clenched teeth. "And I have a bad feeling that as soon as I attack one of the zombies, the rest of them will come after us."
"You're probably right," Beckla agreed somberly, slipping her bloody knife beneath her belt. "I'll help you keep your ground."
"No, stay back!" cried Artek. "I might hit you with the saber. That goes for all of you-keep away!"
"Where's Guss?" Corin asked as he climbed to his feet.
"Here I am!" a rumbling voice called from above. Stubby wings beating up a stiff breeze, Guss dropped down from the darkness and settled onto the rolling deck.
Beckla moved quickly toward him, concern in her brown eyes. "Guss, you're hurt!" She examined the ragged wound on his arm. Bits of dirt and rust were embedded in the cut, and it already looked as if it were beginning to fester. "We need to clean this wound now. There's no telling what filth was on that zombie's sword."
Guss wiped the sweat from his brow with a clawed hand. "There's no time."
"What's going on?" Artek demanded, straining against the pull of the saber. His boots skidded on the slimy planks as he slid another foot forward. Once again the ship tilted wildly to the side, then slowly righted itself.
"While you were recovering, I flew ahead of the ship to scout out the rapids," Guss explained quickly. The others listened in growing dread as the gargoyle described what he had seen. "We're in the worst of the rapids now-it doesn't get any rougher than this. I think we can make it. But up ahead, the cavern and the river both divide. Down the right-hand passage, the waters grow calmer."
"And down the left?" Beckla asked nervously.
Guss's long pause was as terrifying as the words that followed. "Farther down the left-hand passage, there's a great roar. The river drops over a huge waterfall. I don't know how high the falls are." The gargoyle licked his scaly lips with a green tongue. "I couldn't see the bottom in the dark."
Artek swore, still fighting the saber's pull. "The captain has been keeping the ship to the left side of the cavern. He must be steering The Black Dart toward the waterfall."
"But why?" Corin asked fearfully. "The ship will be broken to bits."
"Why not?" Beckla replied. "The captain's already dead. What does he have to lose?"
Artek racked his brain until he hit upon a plan. It was not elegant-hardly the level of the crafty thieving jobs he had executed in the past-but it was all he could come up with. He struggled against the murderous will of the cursed saber. He had to remain in control only a few moments more, and then the blade could do its work.
"Guss," he gasped. "Fly ahead of the ship and keep watch on our progress. Call out when we're near the fork in the river. Beckla, Corin-try to find a way to distract the crew. Use your imaginations! Anything you can do to gain their attention without getting yourself killed will