Wednesday Addams's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

Wednesday returned to the lower cavern the next morning with her glowing arch. She set it near the steps and studied the lake. She wanted to measure the water before she planned the floor above. But the moment the lamps burned over the black water, the surface began to move. The creature rose toward the light. Its back broke the surface, long and dark, and slid along the lamp line. It circled under the arch. The water climbed the worn steps, one, then two. A cold wave slapped her boots. She understood at once. The light drew it. The more the lamps blazed, the harder the thing churned, and the higher the lake rose toward the passage and the great hall above. If the water kept climbing, it would flood the upper cavern. There would be no ballroom. Her ball would drown before a single guest arrived. She needed to kill the light without losing herself in the dark. She could not simply switch the lamps off. The passage back was long and wet, and the creature was already restless. She needed a new light the water would not notice, one dim enough to guide her but too weak to feed the thing. Wednesday climbed to the great hall and dug through the last crate. Her hands found a folded arch of iron, strung with small bulbs shaped like pumpkins. A party bridge, meant to span the garden path for guests. Its lamps were faint, soft orange, nothing like the blaze below. She hauled the bridge down piece by piece. At the passage mouth she switched off the great arch. The lower cavern went black. Water hissed against stone. She held her breath and threw the switch on the little bridge. A weak glow spread, no brighter than a handful of candles. She crept to the top step and watched. The creature slowed. Its back sank below the surface. The thrashing stopped. The water held, then slid back down one step. Two. The soft light did not pull it. The faint bulbs let her see the lake without waking it. Wednesday set the bridge on the top step and backed away. The water lay flat. She had her answer. Bright light enraged the thing and flooded the hall. Dim light let it sleep. She could work the upper cavern as long as she kept the fierce lamps out of its sight. But the trade cost her. The grand pumpkin arch, her finest piece, could never shine down here. And her ball was tomorrow night. She had a ballroom she could not fully light, a lake she dared not disturb, and a creature that would wake the instant anyone carried a bright lamp near the steps. She left the dim bridge burning behind her and climbed toward the great hall. Now she had to build a party that stayed quiet enough to let a monster sleep.