Evertrue

TWENTY-THREE

NOW

The Everneath. Lake Tantalus.

The water retreated at first, revealing more of the sandy beach. Then we saw a giant swell forming in the center of the lake, growing as if the lake itself were sucking in all the water from the perimeter.

Once the water had retreated into the lake by at least the length of a football field, the gigantic swell in the center froze for a second.

“That’s not good,” Jack said. “We’ve gotta run.”

“Don’t let go!” I said.

“Becks. It’s a mini-tsunami coming for us.”

I looked all around, thinking as fast as I could. “Climb to the branch,” I said.

Jack didn’t waste time arguing. He swung himself over the limb, then reached down and pulled me and then Cole up just as a tidal wave of water rushed onto shore. The water rose up and barely skimmed the bottom of the branch before it fell back down.

“Was that all we did?” Jack asked. “Create a wave?”

“Look!” I said.

The water had gone back into the lake, but it began to swirl in a circle, a giant whirlpool centered in the middle. And the level was going down.

“It’s like a giant toilet flushing,” I said.

The water level sank enough that a small platform appeared in the center of the lake. Well, small from where we sat in the fruit tree.

“That’s how we’re going to get there,” I said. “Once all the water’s gone, one of us can just walk out.”

“I hope it stops sinking soon,” Jack said.

“Why?” I asked, but then I saw the problem. As the water sank, I could see that the edge of the platform dropped off on all four sides, rock walls nearly perpendicular to the surface of the water.

“Oh,” I said. “Can you get off and stop it?”

Cole dropped from the branch, and the lever flipped up. Immediately, water bubbled up from the center of the platform and spilled over the sides, creating a waterfall on all four edges.

“That’s not going to help,” I said.

Cole climbed back up, and the branch flipped back down.

I turned to Jack. “Okay, here’s what we know so far. We know that we have to keep the branch depressed while we retrieve the sickle, which we hope is on top of the platform. And we know that you and Cole are the ones who have to keep it depressed, because when Cole got off, my weight wasn’t enough to keep it down. Which means . . .”

Jack looked skyward. “It means you have to go to the platform. Alone.”

I nodded. Jack put his arm around me, and I leaned into his chest.

“I don’t like this, Becks,” Jack said, looking warily at the lake.

“What’s not to like? I’ve been wanting a chance to rock climb again. You remember that time at the Rock Garden?”

Jack smiled. “Yes.”

“I can do this.” We watched as the last few feet of water disappeared. And when it did, what it left behind made my blood turn cold. A dark shadow covered the deepest part of the lake. And it appeared to be moving.

“Are those Shades?” I asked, my voice weak.

“No,” Cole said. “Beetles.”