Following Evan’s gestures, Dougal saw the long fissure in the dark rock face; the split began above his head and ran downward, narrowing to disappear midway. Breathing rhythmically, he half climbed the incline for a closer look. Above, the massive rock thrust upward through the water, and he could see the underside of Norrie’s boat rocking on waves driven by wind.
The storm was coming in fast. They could not stay down here much longer.
With a measuring tape pulled from the canvas bag at his belt, he estimated the length and width of the crevice as the tug of underwater currents pushed at his heavily weighted suit. Reaching his gauntlet into the fissure, he found the crack to be fairly deep. A few small fish drifted out of the crevice and he batted them away.
Moving toward Evan, who was measuring another part of the rock, he waved to catch his attention and signaled they should return to the surface. He had seen what he needed to see; the split in the rock was large enough to be of concern, considering the weight of the lighthouse to be erected on its surface.
“Dougal.” Alan Clarke’s voice came crackling through the speaking tube.
“All is well down here. Up there?”
“Storm brewing. It will not reach us yet, but wind and waves are strong. Come up! We need to return to Caransay.”
“Aye. We’re coming up.”
He and Mackenzie moved toward the two wooden platforms hovering nearby, suspended on ropes. Stepping onto one wooden deck, Dougal tugged three times on a rope to indicate his readiness. Evan did the same. Hanging on, Dougal saw Evan’s platform move upward first. Soon, he felt his own platform shift as it was drawn up through the water. Grasping the ropes, he looked up to see the underside of Evan’s deck moving ahead.
Sudden and strong, a wave washed through like a train, smashing Dougal’s wooden platform against the side of the great rock, knocking so hard that he was nearly thrown free. He hung on, bending his knees to keep his balance. With one booted foot, he shoved the planking away from the rock, felt it come free and begin to rise again.
Once more his deck paused, Evan’s too, just above. Halting their ascent was necessary for safety. Holding the ropes, Dougal took long, slow breaths to give his lungs a chance to adapt. With a lurch, the platform moved again.
Another wave cracked the planking against the rock. This time, the impact spun him outward, and his feet slid off the wooden deck. Scrabbling back to the shifting deck, he snatched the rope of the platform, which tilted precariously against the steep rocky incline. Looking up, he saw Evan’s platform swaying above him, coming closer to the surface.
Another hard wave slammed through and a wealth of water swept around the platform, so that it bucked like a horse, knocking into the rock again. Dougal felt one heavy boot slide over the edge, and he hung on, tugging on the rope, asking to be pulled up.
Moments later, he felt and heard a rumbling vibration, then a loud, horrid sound like a roar as the undersea world shuddered all around him. Glancing up, he saw the trussed granite block break loose from its moorings, crash into the rocky slope, andbegin to tumble and slide down the incline. Dougal swung his weight to shift the platform out of the way as the stone grazed past him, just missing him—and catching on one of the platform ropes, ripping it free at a corner.
The deck tilted as the immense granite block skittered downward. Silt and debris clouded the water, turning it to midnight darkness. Reaching out, he felt the wall of dressed stone just in front of him. It had missed him by inches. Breathing out in shaky relief, he stepped back from the edge of the sharply tilted platform.
But he could not move. The thick toe ridge of his lead boot was caught just under the block.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Astrong windblew Meg’s cape backward, nearly tearing away her beribboned bonnet. Not so far off now, the western sky thickened into a dark, boiling mass.
“They need to hurry,” she told Norrie beside her. “They have to come up now!”
“They do. That storm is blowing fast this way,” Norrie said.
“Oh, thank God, the crew is bringing them up now!” Seeing the commotion at the rock’s cliffside, where the diving platforms were raised and lowered, she exhaled in relief, ran toward the iron railing embedded in the edge, and looked down.
A diver burst out of the water, clinging to the platform ropes as crewmen hauled him upward. The man gestured insistently as Alan and others unscrewed the bolts that secured his helmet to the wide brass collar that covered his shoulders. Evan Mackenzie emerged.
“Dougal,” he gasped. “He’s caught! The block broke loose, hit his platform. I saw it just as I came up”
Meg rushed forward. “Is he hurt?”
“I cannot say,” Evan replied, shaking his head as one of the crew worked on his suit. “Leave it in case I have to go down again.”
“You cannot go down there so quickly,” Alan Clarke replied. He grabbed the speaking tube and set the funnel to his mouth. “Dougal! Are you there!”
Silence. Meg pressed a hand to her mouth. Nearby, Norrie and others tensed, waiting.
“Dougal!” Alan listened through the earpiece, then nodded. “Wait!” he called into the hose. “Wait, we will tell you what to do.”
“Is he hurt?” Meg asked.
“His boot is caught,” Alan said. “He says he is trapped.”
