The Keys to Paradise, page 16
‘You do not believe in my teachings? I offer these people a better life than any they will ever have on this world. A life with a glorious hereafter.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Petia said bitterly. ‘A life which can neither be proved nor disproved. In the meanwhile, it is a fertile field that you plough. Hundreds – thousands – of people manipulated, made to spread dissent, sapped of their coin so that you may finance your rebellion. People that can be moulded into an army when the time is ripe.’
The sorceress uncrossed her legs and sat forward, no longer the image of calm. ‘I do not need those people. I have unlimited power of my own.
‘Enough.’ She took a deep breath and composed herself. The sorceress rose from her throne. ‘You doubt my powers. You lie to me. You care not a whit for the people of this country. I do.
‘What you really came for is the key – supposed to open a gate to Paradise, like the one gracing my temple doors. You’ll never find that key, and you’ll never get to Paradise. My followers will find Paradise here in my teachings, in their own land, before you find yours.’
Sparks showered from the end of her fingertips, then burst into lambent flame. The fire grew. The sorceress flexed her fingers and drew the image of a human in silvery, shimmering air. Another eye-searing flame materialised before her, still amorphous but rapidly taking form. She gestured grandly, and he flowed away with sinuous grace to stand beside her throne.
‘You think me a fool. I see it in your eyes!’ She held her hands together, as if moulding clay. With the suddenness of lightning in the twilight, she flung a fire ball over their heads. Giles and Petia turned in time to see it hit the floor, scattering flame in all directions. Gradually, as if it held a life of its own, the flame flowed into a pool.
From the pool arose a monstrous form, towering nine feet tall, with a torso as massive as a tree trunk. Long arms hung from broad shoulders, arms so powerful that they could easily crush a human.
‘None stands against the life I create.’
The creature stood, swaying from side to side, not knowing what it was supposed to do. The Flame Sorceress gestured, and the monster melted back into the pool of flame and slowly died away. She flung another ball that turned into a six-foot long lizard-like beast with a flickering tongue of flame. A third blossomed into a small tree with branches that waved, seeking for prey to burn. A fourth became a snorting, pawing beast with horns blazing so brightly that Giles averted his eyes. It bleated plaintively at the sorceress, waiting for her command to charge, to bring the destruction for which it had been created.
‘You seek a paltry key while I offer salvation!’ A flick of her hand dismissed the fire monsters. She stretched out both hands, and from her fingertips flew lances of lightning that struck a wall near the entrance to the hall. Spears of searing brilliance followed. Next came balls of fire that stuck to whatever they hit, as if they were burning pitch.
The awesome power truly frightened Giles. Neither Giles nor Petia could deny that the sorceress commanded vast magicks. What scared Giles was the way she became more intense with each demonstration. She was caught up in her own power and the pleasure of flaunting it. Her ambition – and viciousness – knew no bounds.
‘There, unbelievers! You came seeking a key. Don’t deny it. I know. You will never find the key to Paradise. You do not need that key. All you need is to follow me. It is within my grasp to give you all the Paradise you need.
‘The key is nothing. A piece of gold said to open the gates. And what will you find behind the gates? No one knows. Hundreds of years have passed since the key was forged. It was nothing more than a symbol of a welding of tribes, primitive peoples with primitive ideas. Do you believe that you will find riches? Ha!’
The Flame Sorceress paced back and forth in front of her throne, breasts heaving in passion, brown eyes blazing, her voice rising. ‘Here, here are riches, power. You say I manipulate the people. Yes, I admit it. I manipulate the people to bring them wealth and happiness. Their paradise is here in their own land. I will show it to them, I will lead them. They adore me. Together we will bring the throne out of this underground hall and place it in Dimly New. We will become a proudly united people, human and Trans. Wealth and power will flow to me because of my leadership. Nothing can deny me, nothing can get in my way, not you or the pitiful leaders of the coastal cities.’
‘She’s raving,’ Giles whispered. ‘She’s going to kill us, no matter what we say.’
‘Then let’s try to escape!’ Petia hissed angrily.
‘There’s still Keja. Wait. Play for time.
The sorceress’ loud ravings fell to abrupt silence. The change proved as chilling as her insane rage. When the Flame Sorceress spoke again, it was with a quietness that was in nerve-jangling contrast to what had gone before. Delivered in a sibilant, even voice, it sent shivers through Giles’ soul.
‘Meddlers.’ She pointed at Giles and Petia; they both flinched, waiting for the leaping flame sent to devour them. ‘A small pile of charred ashes, is that what you bargained for when you sought to rob the Flame Sorceress? You think me mad. I see it in your eyes.
‘No, no burning here. I will grant you a brief reprieve. When I have liberated the people of Trois Havres, there will be a celebration. The lords and merchants will be driven forth from their castles and mansions. A pyre is what will satisfy the people. A pyre on which to burn the oppressors. And you two shall join the lords of power and commerce on the pyre.
‘No key, Grimsmate and Darya. Only death in purifying flame.’
She gestured to the flame beings. ‘Take them away. Be sure that the cell bars are close enough that our little cat cannot slip between them.’
The Flame Sorceress sat down heavily, one slender leg draping over the other in what might have been a seductive display had not her clouded face shown only darkness and death. Giles and Petia marched the length of the hall and out of the door, their flame guards close enough to make their skin prickle.
‘She didn’t kill us outright,’ said Petia. ‘For only ten seconds alone with her!’ Claws sprang forth; the flame beings moved nearer, their body heat effectively preventing an escape.
‘Just because she didn’t kill us doesn’t mean it’s still not within her power.’ said Giles. He wondered how acute the senses of the flame beings were. Everything said to Petia might be reported back to their mistress, he decided. ‘Say nothing more.’
Petia nodded glumly.
They moved through one passage after another, crossing smaller caves between. Finally, a flambeau motioned them into a small nook several feet above the floor.
Another of the flambeaux stooped to the floor. With a flourish, he formed a bar of intense flame running from floor to ceiling. He repeated the motion every few inches from one side of the nook’s entrance to the other.
The flame creatures turned without a glance and marched away. Giles and Petia were imprisoned behind bars of flame.
‘What will we do, Giles?’
Giles put his hand on Petia’s arm. ‘The first thing is to get a bit of sleep,’ he said, giving her a soldier’s advice. ‘We’ll think better when we’ve rested.’
‘But we’ve got to get out of here!’ Petia was near to panic.
‘We will, we will.’ Giles took her hands, forcing Petia to look into his eyes. ‘Stay calm. We’re warm, we’re dry. Maybe we’ll even be fed. We won’t be killed for a while. And Keja is somewhere near. Obviously they did not find him. For all her seeming omniscience, the Flame Sorceress missed Keja.’
‘You think that Keja can help?’ Petia asked. ‘I’m not sure he’s much good for anything.’
‘He is abler than he shows. Underneath the peacock posturing and womanising lies a brave soul.’
Petia grimaced. ‘All right. I’ll try to be calm.’ She flinched away from the flaming bars again. ‘I hate fire,’ she said, almost too low for the man to hear.
‘At least we’ll be warm,’ Giles said. ‘We could be sleeping outside in the cold.’
‘Damn you, Giles Grimsmate.’ Petia hissed, then curled into a tight ball.
* * *
Keja Tchurak entered the cavern, swinging stride confident. He wanted it to appear that he belonged there. The people looked up from their work and automatically gave the ritual sign. Keja returned it, hoping that it was correct.
‘Who are you? Where are you going?’ one of them asked. Keja’s heart clogged his throat; the sign had been wrong. The cult had put out his description. Something so small that he had missed it, gave him away.
His thief’s nerves took over. No great outcry had risen. This was only an innocent query, not an accusation.
‘I’m fresh in from Dimly New,’ Keja replied without so much as a quaver in his voice. ‘I’ve been sent to question the prisoners. Where were they taken?’
‘Probably to the cells.’ The man who answered gestured to the left with his head.
Three passageways led off from that side of the cave.
‘I’ve been turned around.’ Keja laughed at his own supposed stupidity. ‘These caves and passages confuse me so easily. Which leads to the cells?’
Two women giggled at Keja’s seeming embarrassment. He graced them with a boyish smile and a deep bow. To the more comely one, Keja even ventured a quick wink. The man said, more brusquely now, wanting Keja away from the women, ‘The middle one.’
‘Thank you,’ Keja said. He made the ritual sign again, and for good measure added, ‘The Flame keep you.’ He disappeared into the centre opening with relief – and some regret. The one woman, girl actually, had been quite pretty and more than a little smitten by his charms. Keja sighed. Giles and Petia needed rescuing. Then he could seek out the lovely girl and assay the limits of her infatuation with him.
He was beginning to enjoy this.
As he neared the other end of the passage, Keja saw light flickering on the floor of the next cave. He entered cautiously. Bars of liquid flame closed off the cell.
He crept silently across the floor. The bars were so closely spaced that he couldn’t see any prisoners within. Squinting, he made out dim figures. He put out his hand and nearly burned himself on the bars.
‘Giles, is that you?’
Giles stirred in his sleep. Petia was leaning against his shoulder, asleep. She seemed to be purring.
‘Giles,’ Keja whispered, louder this time.
‘Hmmph?’ Giles opened his eyes cautiously. ‘What?’
‘It’s me. Keja.’
Giles came awake and put his hand over Petia’s mouth. She snorted and nearly bit him as she, too, awakened.
‘How’d you get here?’
‘How do you suppose? Master thief and sneakiest of sneaks,’ Keja bragged. ‘How do I open the bars? This is unlike any prison cell I’ve ever seen, not that I’ve often been incarcerated.’
‘Let me think.’ Giles shook the fog from his head. ‘Remember the passageway we found yesterday at the back of the hill?’
Keja nodded.
‘There was a stream nearby where we rested and ate. If you divert that stream into the cave system, we could drown the flame beings – her flambeaux, as the sorceress calls them.’
‘Sounds like a good plan,’ Keja said sarcastically.
‘Flood the cave,’ Giles ordered. ‘I have a hunch that the sorceress derives part of her power from all the fires that she keeps around her. Torches burning all over the place, a brazier by her throne. She’s mad, absolutely insane.’
‘How am I supposed to divert the stream?’ Keja asked.
‘Dig a ditch into one of those passages, then dam up the stream. Cut some logs, brush, rocks, anything to divert the stream into that passageway. They must all connect and run into the main cavern.’
‘What about you?’
‘When the water runs in, it will seek the lowest level. We’re not far above that. The water will put out the flaming bars when it reaches here. There should be a fair amount of panic. We’ll find a way out.’
‘But what about the key? Do we even know it’s in here?’ Keja asked.
‘I’d bet my last royal on it, from the way she talked about it. We don’t know where, but we’ll figure that out after we sweep all these flame things out of the cave. That’s first. Go now, or you’ll end up in here with us.’
‘You’re right,’ Keja said. ‘It looks warm and comfy in there, though. You all right, Petia?’
‘I hate fire,’ Petia said. ‘But we’ll be all right. Just do as Giles has suggested. I can’t get out of here fast enough.’
Keja started to reach through the bars to touch them, give them encouragement, then thought better of it. The cuff of his jacked started to char. Instead, he raised his hand and gave them the ritual flame sign. ‘Don’t go anywhere,’ he chuckled. ‘May the Flame keep you.’
‘When I get out of here,’ Petia promised, ‘you’ll pay for that remark.’
‘One more thing, Keja,’ Giles said. ‘Watch out for any line of flame that seems to run across the floor. It might burst into some monster creature.’
‘Why don’t I bring some dirt and put it on these bars?’
‘Do you see any dirt in the caves? It’s all rock. You’d have to go outside and come back again. We can’t risk it. Divert the stream. We’ll worry about the rest of it.’
Keja did wave this time. Cautiously, he made his way out of the cave. Giles watched the wiry thief vanish, hoping his trust in the man wasn’t misplaced. The bars of the cell seemed to be getting hotter by the minute.
Fifteen
Keja paused to wipe away the sweat rolling down his forehead and into his eyes. He didn’t remember working this hard in his entire life.
‘I know now why I decided the life of a thief was for me,’ he complained, his muscles aching abysmally. Manual labour was something he had always tried to avoid.
Boots soaked and feet cold, he cursed the broad stream running down swiftly from the mountains. When he and Giles had camped the day before, they’d though it rose up from underground; it merely ducked under the surface for a short way. Keja saw no other way for the water to be so crystalline clear and as cold as ice. Twice, Keja stumbled on slippery rocks to catch himself on his hands, but not before the front of his precious tunic was soaked.
‘ ’Tis not enough Giles and Petia get themselves into a cage of fire. They demand I ruin my clothing to rescue them. Pah!’ This was not all he ruined. Keja examined his sword and dagger. Their edges were nicked and dirty and would require extensive re-tempering to be usable again. If this crack brained plan did work, Giles would owe him new weapons. And a new tunic and jacket. And even a chance to rest in Dimly New. One woman in the market had looked upon him with real interest.
He stood, rubbing his aching shoulder and viewing what he had accomplished so far. The stream still rushed on by, but his hard work had piled boulders along the shore and a ditch ran in a straight line from the smoke vents in the rocky hill to a spot just short of the stream. It would take Keja only a few minutes to open the intervening space and send the burbling stream directly down into the cave through the vents.
Then the fight would begin in earnest. Keja didn’t fool himself that the human guard would allow the water to pour into their cave without blood being spilled.
His rest over, Keja reached for the sword again. His body ached and his joints froze. ‘I know what Giles complains about now,’ he muttered. Keja never wanted arthritis to seize up his bones permanently. Better to die in some noble venture.
The small thief seized a boulder and wrestled it into position along the stream’s bottom. Standing knee deep in the water, he placed the stones with all the care of an uplands beaver. Side by side, he nestled stones of all sizes, then dabbed in mud. When he reached the opposite side of the stream, he was pleased with the first layer of foundation. Keja struggled on, placing another row parallel with the first.
He placed a third row on top of and between the two foundation layers. Some of the rocks now stuck out above the surface of the water. The water flowed between the rocks, seeking a way through, trying to continue its way downstream.
Keja noticed that the water now rose to his thighs. He looked along the bank and saw that the water was rising nicely behind his makeshift dam. He tested the stones for solidity, then began laying cut ironbeam branches along the upstream side, blocking the dam more effectively. He was so pleased with his engineering feat that he no longer cared that he was shivering cold and wet nearly to his waist.
For another hour he laboured, pausing only occasionally to attempt to relieve the pain in his lower back. When he had finished, Keja panted in exhaustion. But he felt that the ditch was adequate to channel most of the water into the cave system.
‘Better than any dozen men might have done,’ he said with pride. ‘Even if they did know what they were doing, this is better.’ Here and there rocks tumbled from his dam and let tiny rivulets through. The lifetime of the dam would have to be measured in hours – or even minutes.
‘No reason to wait,’ he said, wiping his hands on his trousers. Keja winced at the sight; streaks left by his dirty fingers turned the once fine trousers into a striped mess.
Ignoring the filth and damage done to his clothing, Keja tore into the few remaining feet between the ditch and the stream. Churning, eager water helped him eat away the dirt as it found its way into the virgin path. The pressure behind the dam had now a new outlet and it took it with a startlingly loud rush.
Keja leaped for the bank. It collapsed under his feet, and he went down with a windmilling of arms and legs. For one last time, the cold clear water won. Helplessly flailing, Keja was swept along by the powerful force. Even as he floundered, sputtering, he laughed out loud at his success. Eventually he found his feet and staggered out of the ditch, dripping mud and water and laughing insanely. He had done what Giles had asked. The water poured forth and blasted its way down into the cavern through the smoke vents.
