Veils of Silk(159)

He stood still, icy water rushing around him, and weighed the odds. If he let the river take him down this subterranean waterfall, he might emerge into a pool in a chamber below. More likely, he would drown or be smashed into the rocks.

Not good odds at all, but once again, he didn't see any other choices. There wasn't much point in retracing his steps. He might have passed by dry secondary tunnels, but if he had missed them once, he might miss them again.

Well, he had said that any death would be better than being buried alive, and he was certainly being given a variety of choices. The worst part of going over the waterfall was that his revolver would become saturated so he wouldn't have it in reserve for a final escape. But since he was probably going to drown, there was no point in worrying about that.

He inhaled deeply several times to absorb every bit of air he could. As he did, he thought of all he would be leaving behind if he didn't survive.

Earlier, when panic had driven him to the brink of self-destruction, he had been thinking only of the pain of existence. Yet life had become very rewarding since he met Laura, and dying now would be like leaving a book in the middle of the best part.

Now that existence was stripped down to stark essentials, it was hard to remember why he had been unable to tell Laura that he loved her. It was foolish of him to let his sense of unworthiness silence him, for she deserved to know how much she meant to him. If he survived, he would do better.

During his long journey through the cavern, his irrational fears had ebbed, leaving a curious sense of peace. The darkness was no longer menacing. In fact, it held a warmth that reminded him of the Well when he had shared it with Pyotr Andreyovich.

Perhaps the old rascal had come to keep him company. Or perhaps what he felt was that deity whom Pyotr had believed in. Whatever—or Whoever—might be here, Ian no longer felt alone.

The faces of his family passed in front of his mind's eye, beginning and ending with Laura. She was so vivid that it seemed as if he could reach out and touch her. Larissa Alexandrovna, his fierce, loyal, loving Tartar. Be happy, Larishka, and sometimes remember me.

Then he lay back and let the current take him into the abyss.

* * *

The next chamber was the most beautiful of all, but to Laura's bitter disappointment, it was also the end of the cave. Half the floor of the chamber was taken up by a deep pool with a waterfall plunging into it.

She prowled around the perimeter, the stub of her candle so low that it almost singed her fingers, but could find no way out except the one by which they had entered. She felt as if she were trapped inside a Russian cathedral of spires and glittering surfaces.

David was also investigating, scrambling over the uneven floor, but finally the two of them met by the pool. "We'll have to turn back, Laura," he said. "This is the end. Maybe Zafir and Kuram have had better luck. Even if they have, we'd better rest outside before trying another tunnel. We're exhausted, and even willpower has its limits."

She sighed. "I suppose so, though I hate to admit it. I keep feeling that Ian must be here somewhere, if only I knew where to look. If only I tried a little harder.''

"No one could try harder than you, Laura. You're the most indomitable female I've ever met." David touched her shoulder. "But now it's time to go back."

She nodded, but when he walked away, she paused for one last look at the waterfall that poured noisily from the wall. No way forward there, for it filled the shaft from which it emerged. She was beginning to turn when she saw an object sweeping down through the veil of water. Something large, a chunk of wood or a drowned animal. It hit with a splash.

Laura stared, sure that she must be hallucinating, seeing Ian in the roiled water because she so much wanted to. Then she began to shout.

* * *

Compared to the rest of Ian's subterranean journey, passage through the underground river was almost easy. The water did all the work, sucking him down the stony pipe, the chill numbing his bruises and abraded hands. If only there were air....

His lungs began to ache, then burn. He exhaled slowly, using the slight relief to hold back the moment when suffocation would become agony.

Suddenly he slammed into a protruding rock and stuck, trapped by the beating current. Violently he shoved at the stone until he was enough to one side that the water grabbed him again.

The river spread out, expanding into a waterfall. His desperate lungs drew in a mixture of air and water that choked more than relieved.

Then he plunged into a deep pool. After the waterfall, it was still and calm. And shockingly, he saw a glimmer of light above.

His first thought, even before the hope that escape was at hand, was that thank God, he wasn't blind. Weakly he struck out toward the light, kicking upward and wondering if he would last long enough to reach it before he drowned.