Evanna said, “but people are few. You may run into some before your adventure draws to a close, but don’t get sidetracked—you’re here to discover the truth about Harkat, not cavort with the natives. Now, would you like a hand making a raft, or would you rather do it yourselves?”
“What will we need a raft for?” I asked.
Evanna pointed to the lake. “Three guesses, genius.”
“Can’t we track around it?” Harkat enquired.
“You can, but I don’t advise it.”
We sighed—when Evanna said something like that, we knew we hadn’t much of a choice. “What will we build it from?” I asked. “It’s been a few days since I spotted any trees.”
“We’re close to the wreck of a boat,” Evanna said, heading off to the left. “We can strip it bare and use the wood.”
“I thought you said none of the … people here had found this lake,” Harkat said, but if the witch heard the query, she paid it no heed.
About a kilometre up the pebbly lake shore, we found the bleached remains of a small wooden boat. The first planks we pulled off were soggy and rotten, but there were stronger planks underneath. We stacked them in a tidy pile, sorting them by length.
“How are we going to bind them?” I asked when we were ready to begin construction. “There aren’t any nails.” I wiped rain from my forehead—it had been drizzling steadily for the last hour.
“The builder of the boat used mud to bind the planks,” Evanna said. “He had no rope or nails, and no intention of sailing the boat—he merely built it to keep himself busy.”
“Mud won’t keep a raft together once we … get out on the water,” Harkat noted dubiously.
“Indeed,” Evanna smirked. “That’s why we are going to tie the planks tightly with topes.” The squat witch began unwrapping the ropes she kept knotted around her body.
“Do you want us to look away?” I asked.
“No need,” she laughed. “I don’t plan to strip myself bare!”
The witch reeled off an incredibly long line of rope, dozens of metres in length, yet the ropes around her body didn’t diminish, and she was as discreetly covered when she stopped as she’d been at the outset. “There!” she grunted. “That should suffice.”
We spent the rest of the day constructing the raft, Evanna acting as the designer, performing magical shortcuts when our backs were turned, making our job a lot quicker and easier than it should have been. It wasn’t a large raft when finished, two and a half metres long by two wide, but we could both fit on it and lie down in comfort. Evanna wouldn’t tell us how wide the lake was, but said we’d have to sail due south and sleep on the raft a few nights at least. The raft floated nicely when we tested it and although we had no sails, we fashioned oars out of leftover planks.
“You should be fine now,” Evanna said. “You won’t be able to light a fire, but fish swim close to the surface of the lake. Catch and eat them raw. And the water is unpleasant but safe to drink.”
“Evanna …” I began, then coughed with embarrassment.
“What is it, Darren?” the witch asked.
“The gelatinous globes,” I muttered. “Will you tell us what they’re for?”
“No,” she said. “And that’s not what you wanted to ask. Out with it, please. What’s bothering you?”
“Blood,” I sighed. “It’s been ages since I last drank human blood. I’m feeling the side effects—I’ve lost a lot of my sharpness and strength. If I carry on like this, I’ll die. I was wondering if I could drink from you?”
Evanna smiled regretfully. “I would gladly let you drink from me, but I’m not human and my blood’s not fit for consumption—you’d feel a lot worse afterwards! But don’t worry. If the fates are kind, you’ll find a feeding source shortly. If they’re not,” she added darkly, “you’ll have greater problems to worry about.
“Now,” the witch said, stepping away from the raft, “I must leave you. The sooner you set off, the sooner you’ll arrive at the other side. I’ve just this to say – I’ve saved it until now because I had to – and then I’ll depart. I can’t tell you what the future has in store, but I can offer this advice—to fish in the Lake of Souls, you must borrow a net which has been used to trawl for the dead. And to access the Lake, you’ll need the holy liquid from the Temple of the Grotesque.”
“Temple of the Grotesque?” Harkat and I immediately asked together.
“Sorry,” Evanna grunted. “I can tell you that much, but nothing else.” Waving to us, the witch said, “Luck, Darren Shan. Luck, Harkat Mulds.” And then, before we could reply, she darted away, moving with magical speed, disappearing out of sight within seconds into the gloom of the coming night.
Harkat and I stared at one another silently, then turned and manoeuvred our meagre stash of possessions on to the raft. We divided the gelatinous globes into three piles: one for Harkat, one for me and one in a scrap of cloth tied to the raft, then set off in the gathering darkness across the cold, still water of the nameless lake.
WE ROWED for most of the night, in what we hoped was a straight line (there seemed to be no currents to drag us off course), rested for a few hours either side of dawn, then began rowing again, this time navigating south by the position of the sun. By the third day we were bored out of our skulls. There was nothing to do on the calm, open lake, and no change in scenery—dark blue underneath, mostly unbroken grey overhead. Fishing distracted us for short periods each day, but the fish were plentiful and easy to catch, and soon it was back to the rowing and resting.
To keep ourselves amused, we invented games using the teeth Harkat had pulled from the dead panther. There weren’t many word games we could play with such a small complement of letters, but by giving each letter a number, we were able to pretend the teeth were dice and indulge in simple gambling games. We didn’t have anything of value to bet, so we used the bones of the fish we caught as gambling chips, and made believe they were worth vast amounts of money.
During a rest period, as Harkat was cleaning the teeth – taking his time, to stretch the job out – he picked up a long incisor, the one marked by a K, and frowned. “This is hollow,” he said, holding it up and peering through it. Putting it to his wide mouth, he blew through it, held it up again, then passed it to me.
I studied the tooth against the grey light of the sky, squinting to see better. “It’s very smooth,” I noted. “And it goes from being wide at the top to narrow at the tip.”
“It’s almost as though … a hole has been bored through it,” Harkat said.
“How, and what for?” I asked.
“Don’t know,” Harkat said. “But it’s the only one … like that.”
“Maybe an insect did it,” I suggested. “A parasite which burrows into an animal’s teeth and gnaws its way upwards, feeding on the material inside.”
Harkat stared at me for a moment, then opened his mouth as wide as he could and gurgled, “Check my teeth quick!”
“Mine first!” I yelped, anxiously probing my teeth with my tongue.
“Your teeth are tougher … than mine,” he said. “I’m more vulnerable.”
Since that was true, I leant forward to examine Harkat’s sharp grey teeth. I studied them thoroughly, but there was no sign that any had been invaded. Harkat checked mine next, but I drew a clean bill of health too. We relaxed after that – though we did a lot of prodding and jabbing