Chapter 20- Deep Breath
Terrible noise filled the space, and Albus covered his sore ears out of instinct. It sounded like screams of pain mixed with metallic squeaks. But the opening itself remained well shut, despite the professor's continuous calls from the other side. Even though he was afraid of the walking dead below he still felt some confidence in his heart. After all, the entrance remained well shut and the knights were far beneath. He'll just wait until someone will take care of the man on the other side...
As soon as he came to this conclusion the hatch shook with such intensity that Albus almost slipped down the smooth stone. The Professor seemed to lose his patience and began trying to blow his way in. Albus had no doubt that strong defences were imposed on the entrance but wondered how long they would hold as another, louder, explosion was heard, drowning the other noise, this time causing the hatch to move a bit.
He realised he couldn't wait there. But what else can he do? Go down? Another blaring bomb shook the tight place, only now he didn't flinch, not even when several small rocks fell on his head. One more, fractures began to appear. At this rate he would be buried alive- not that he wasn't already halfway there. A tremor passed his body, independent of the vibrations around.
He decided to take his chance with the dead, remembering how they ignored him before. There was a danger in that, sure, but not as certain as if he just remained in place like a sitting duck. The next explosion created a large crack across the hatch, through which he felt a strong gust of wind. He didn't need any more convincing and went down as quickly as possible.
On his way the noises intensified from both directions, and, when he finally reached the bottom, he understood why. His heart skipped a beat once more as he saw at least a dozen dead knights standing in a half-circle, their plethora of weapons aimed at the entrance. They vibrated in place, as if holding themselves from charging forward, yet it was clear that Albus wasn't their target.
Their dead eyes looked through him, as if seeing the Professor trying to force his way in atop the stairs. But it was the water behind them that really deterred Albus. It turned out that the flooded floor extended only about three meters forward, beyond it there was a lake, gushing and roaring, and, as he looked, a rotten hand protruded out of it.
The noise from behind pushed him forward, but now he encountered a weird kind of an invisible barrier- soft as water, yet impenetrable as steel. The knights kept ignoring Albus as he attempted to push his way in, not understanding why he failed doing so at the moment, almost crying out of frustration...
He stopped pushing on the barrier and forced himself to calm down, ignoring the pressure he was under, trying to come up with a solution. For the first time he looked around, and as he twisted his head up, he realised with renewed panic that the place was already familiar to him.
The greenish, wet, bell-shaped subterranean hall was the same from his nightmares. Astonished, his breath caught up in his chest, he followed the source of light and found it illuminating from the middle of the turbulent waters, inconceivable to the eye. But whatever it was, it brightened the area, even if only due to the smooth wet black stone that reflected its glow.
He didn't had time to contemplate about this, however, needing to get away from his pursuer. The explosion from his back deafened his ears, and the gust of wind that came with it pushed him forward, causing the air to escape his lungs. Albus inhaled in surprise, his ears ringing, only for his hands to violently be thrown back- for a moment they crossed the barrier without him noticing.
The answer was suddenly clear to him, instinctively understanding that only the dead could enter, and those had no use for air. He took in a deep breath, like he done numerous times before in his swimming, filling his blood with oxygen. Then he stepped forward just as a hand tried to grab him, tearing some hair from his scalp.
It was as if he had stepped into icy water, and Albus almost exhaled the precious supply from his lungs as the knights advanced and viciously stabbed forward. He bent down in fear, but the lance he thought was coming towards him collided with the unseen obstacle instead.
A second knight, the one with the broken sword he had encountered before, also advanced to attack, pressing Albus aside without detecting him. He quickly crawled to a safe range, halfway between the attacking knights and the blustery water, and turned his head to see what happened behind.
The Professor stood, his wand outstretched forward, his usually still waxy face torn between immense anger and surprise. He sent a dark spell ahead and had to avoid it as it leaped back at him. The knights equally failed to break through, their strikes rejected back as if hitting rubber.
The living were left outside just as the dead were kept inside, Albus assumed as the ringing in his ears quickly changed into silence. But it wasn't the deafness that bothered him but rather yet another, more pressing problem, that was now imposed onto him.
The second defence may have been more successful than the first, but it also prevented him from the small act of breathing. He now could count on one hand that was missing a few fingers the minutes he was left with. So, knowing he wouldn't be able to retrace his steps he instead glanced ahead to find an answer.
His stomach rumbled like the water as he followed the reason for the turbulent movement- seeing the dozens, if not hundreds, of the inferi inside, their hollow faces and thin bodies occasionally seen in the deem greenish glow. In his head, which had already begun demanding fresh air, he understood that those dead people, unlike the knights, would make no distinction between him and the Professor.
And, as if there weren't enough problems already, Albus also had to prevent terror from taking over his frozen body as he felt the magic around draining the power out of his muscles. He calmed down and thought- if there was a way down to this hall then surely there was a way to the middle of it.
How would it help him if he was stuck there? He expelled the thought from his mind, ignoring his body's increasing desire for fresh air- he would try to move forward! It would be better than just being stuck in place! But how? What will help him cross this death moat? Whatever was in the middle twinkled like a small lamp, giving him an idea!
He closed his eyes and reached out, feeling a flow of energy in front. It was violent and powerful, reminding him of the magic bottle that shattered up top. He got up on weak shaky legs and started to make his way around as fast as possible, leaving the commotion near the entrance behind.
The enchantment in the place tired him too much to run, but he still baldly advanced, his feet waddling in the shallow water as he tried to feel change in the current around. He passed almost a third of the way before finally detecting something. Above the stormy water was something different- calm, ancient and strong, almost as the black wet stone itself.
He shut his eyes and, holding his nose in one hand to prevent himself from inhaling, bent down. Concentrating, he felt something solid, like some kind of an invisible stone bridge, located just above the blustery surface. Albus opened his eyes and observed the dead that moved below like big, rotten fish. Knowing full well he only had seconds left before his body would win control over his breathing, he set his foot forward, which went right through the secret passage and straight into the icy cold water.
Almost immediately a skeletal hand with a tattoo of green skull, a snake protruding from its mouth, was sent his way, just about missing him as he jumped back as if burned, shouting in a loud unheard voice. Without noticing he tried taking in a deep, frantic gasp, only to hysterically realise that he had failed to do so.
His knees failed to carry his weight as he slipped on the black wall behind, all while scraping his neck with such force that blood appeared. For a few moments it was the only thing on his mind, sensing the air getting stuck in his throat, no matter how hard he tried to inhale!
His mind was almost blank now, he didn't even care about the dead right now. The dead- who didn't breathe... Nor did they see! Albus got up and with the last drop of his power ran forward on wobbly legs, eyes closed, barely registering as he fell on the hidden passage.
Crawling forward, trying not to fall aside, all he was was a basic instinct for oxygen he believed existed at the end of the road... Advancing, not knowing if for seconds, minutes, maybe even hours... Unable to assess if he was fast or slow... Maybe he already plunged into the water and was dragged into the depths by the skeletal hands? He couldn't tell...
He moved with the last remainder of his adrenaline rush; not feeling his body; unable to breathe; blind; deaf, his life drifting away… He was almost gone when she unexpectedly appeared. It wasn't clear if she was dead or alive, whether she was created only now or thousands of years ago or whether she was happy or angry... But she certainly was beautiful… No! She was beauty itself!
He crawled towards her tall, faintly glowing figure, forgetting what had pressed him before. Nothing was more important than her! He stopped near her feet, not daring to glance up- after all, looking into her face was like staring into the sun. She had the grace to bend and pat his head, clearing his mind from all his previous troubles.
When she spoke, her lovely soft voice combined grieve and joy, "Albus", he was honored to no end that she knew his name, "You must choose". He looked up just enough to see her pale and delicate yet infinitely strong hands. One presented a black stone with a jagged crack across, though a triangle and a circle could still be seen on it. The other held soft, yet untearable green sash that shined gold in the gentle light.
"You can transcend life", the stone shined, "Or protect it", the sash waved in a non- existing wind. What's the need for a shield if he cannot get hurt? A protection from death if he was immortal? His hand was halfway to the stone, which now brightly gleamed, radiating blinding light and absorbing it at the same time...
Like the curse that struck the ghost! His mind, which was void, suddenly remembered Scorpius and Pechman, who were lying somewhere, broken… Brennan… James... Everything abruptly became incredibly sharp- his brother wouldn't never voluntarily give up his parchment...
There were also others in danger, countless of them... Now he couldn't even look at the stone, that desperately shimmered in a way that made him nauseous. He would rather lose his hand than touch it. "Protect!", he confidently said, exhaling the little air left in his lungs.
The light immeasurably increased until he saw no more; the silence deepened so much his ears were unable to hear and the air around began shifting at such speed that he couldn't breathe even if he wanted to…
