The Loch

Chapter 35

I opened my eyes, enveloped in blackness. Intense pain riddled my body. Blood oozed from my head and broken nose, dripping into my mouth. I spat out the warm liquid and struggled to sit up.

From the blue flames that still licked at the oil-drenched ceiling, I saw that I was lying in rubble, close to the tunnel's exit. Through heavy smoke and my dizziness I could just make out a pair of lights by the river's edge, the beams oscillating, then disappearing behind an enormous shadow.

It was the creature, its immense tail lashing to and fro, continuously blocking my view.

And then I saw my father and Alban. The beast had them cornered, their backs to the river.

I felt for the flashlight in my back pocket, then saw it lying in the rubble, its beam reflecting upon something shiny.

The Braveheart?

Reaching into the pile of rubble, I felt for the silver casket, extracting instead the hilt of a massive steel sword.

I focused my light upon the length of its rust-streaked blade and read my destiny.

The blinded Guivre snapped its jaws and inhaled the air, strings of thick ooze glistening from its fangs.

Angus pulled his older comrade to his feet. Whispered, "Alban, it cannae see, an' the smoke's ower thick for it tae pinpoint us. I'll distract it while ye find Zachary. Then the two of ye—"

"A Priest-Knight disnae leave his companion. I'll distract it, you find yer son."

The Guivre continued snapping at the dense air, its gargantuan body all the while slithering forward, driving them closer to the river.

"Bloody Crabbit… we're baith gonnae die."

"Willnae be the first time a MacDonald an' Wallace fell in combat."

They backed to the very edge of the river, its rushing waters licking at their heels.

I hurried through the darkness, my scent cloaked by the stench of the burning crude.

Angus turned to his left and saw me coming. Standing, he waved defiantly at the creature, trying to distract it. "Go on then, Nessie, ye dinnae frighten me! Finish me off if ye dare!"

The monster's jaws opened to strike, and so did I, plunging the ancient sword deep into the Guivre's soulless blind left eye, penetrating its diseased brain with my steel.

The creature seized, its body writhing in tight coils, its colossal head whipping upward hard against the ceiling. The impact shattered its skull and unleashed an avalanche of stalactites, while the ceiling's blue flame ignited the monster's oil-soaked hide into a bright orange conflagration.

The ceiling crumbled, the insane beast snapping blindly in every direction. Oil dripped into the Guivre's nostrils and the dragon snorted flames, while Angus and Alban and I huddled together behind a boulder.

The enraged beast's tail whipped over our heads, and the three of us took off running, heading for the chamber's exit. I pushed my father and Alban ahead of me, then paused to look back as the Guivre shrieked its final death cry and collapsed, belly-up, upon the rocky shoreline. The lifeless left eye was gushing dark blood, the sword still positioned deep in the wound. For a moment I thought about retrieving it, but the monster's tail was still flailing from side to side in convulsions.

And then I remembered Johnny's remains.

Hurrying to the river, I searched the bank, then spotted it near the aquifer's opening. As I grabbed the mutilated body by its jacket collar, the monster's convulsing tail flew over my head and landed in the river. Caught within the current, the Guivre's carcass fed slowly into the raging aquifer, nearly dragging me out to sea with it.

"Zachary!"

"Yeah, coming."

Hurrying back to the exit, I dropped on all fours and crawled through the tunnel, dragging John Cialino's remains behind me.

For fifteen minutes, the three of us crept forward on hands and knees, coughing and grunting until we reached the exit and fresh air. Silent moments passed as we lay back and breathed, our faces covered in sweat and carbon soot, my own in blood.

Angus finally reached over and slapped my knee, his piercing blue eyes now soft, glistening with tears of pride. "Dragonslayer, that's whit ye are. Never seen anythin' like it. Sir William an' Sir Adam, they'd baith be proud."

"Was it Adam's sword then?"

"Actually, it wis William's, at least accordin' tae my faither's translations o' Adam's diary. Maybe we should go back for it. Be worth its weight in gold."

"It's gone. Washed out to sea with the monster." I turned to Alban. "I tried to save her—"

He held up his hand, caught between coughs. "I'm indebted."

"We'll call it even," I whispered. Then I remembered. "Alban, the Braveheart?"

"Gone, too. Perhaps it's best. These days, we'd only commercialize it, chargin' people tae gaze upon it frae behind layers o' glass. Let it die wi' Nessie."

"Others may come searching."

"No' likely. The Templar own Aldourie Castle. We'll seal the shaft off soon enough."

Angus motioned to the lift. "Go on, the two o' ye, the weight's balanced for thirty stone. True can use yer help draggin' me an' Johnny's remains up after ye."

I helped Alban to his feet. We stepped onto the platform and tugged on the rope, which raised us easily up the shaft to the distant pinpoint of daylight.

My father watched us ascend, then crawled back into the tunnel.