The Keys to Paradise, page 57
Anji stepped into the loop and held onto the rope. Petia removed her tunic and carefully made a pad on the edge of the ledge for the rope to slide over. She wound the rope around her waist again and backed into the tunnel. She turned to lay on her back and immediately felt her body begin to slip on the polished stone surface.
The rope tightened around her waist, but her body continued its slide down the tunnel. She held her breath, Knowing that for every foot she slid, Anji was a foot nearer the ledge. She felt the pressure on her stomach ease suddenly. The boy had reached the top of the ledge.
She waited patiently until she heard Anji’s voice. ‘Petia?’
‘I’m here,’ she replied. ‘I’m not coming back up the tunnel. Coil the rope around your waist and follow me out. But be careful. There might be something waiting outside for us.’
Petia discovered that she could not turn around in the tight quarters. Cursing silently, she backed her way down the tunnel. Before she had gone more than a couple of feet, Anji slid head first down the tunnel. She reached out and tousled his hair. ‘You still have the key?’
‘I made sure that it was deep in my pocket before I left the room, and I checked again just now.’
The final key was theirs!
* * *
Giles and Keja stood over the lifeless beast. Blood still oozed from its side and mouth, but its breath was gone. They leaned heavily on one another, glad of the contact with another human. Giles cleaned his halberd as well as he could on the beast’s body.
Keja went to the hole in the wall and leaned his head down to the opening. ‘Petia,’ he shouted. ‘Are you there?’
Petia’s voice came from so close that Keja jumped back, startled. ‘She’s almost back,’ he said go Giles. ‘I wonder if she has Anji.’
‘He’s right behind me,’ Petia replied. ‘We’ll be out soon – and he’s got the key!’
Petia’s legs emerged as she twisted and turned negotiating the tight turn in the tunnel near the entrance. She backed out on her hands and knees and stood, winded from her efforts. She shook all over as her body thickened once more into its normal shape, the cat sleekness leaving her.
Anji’s face showed in the opening, a bit grimy, but wearing an angelic smile. He stood and hugged Petia, then dug deep into his pocket and pulled out the steel key, flourishing it dramatically. When he had finished, he held it out to Giles.
Giles examined it briefly, then handed it on to Keja. Keja looked at it and shrugged. ‘So that’s the last one,’ he said, handing it back to Giles. ‘Hardly looks worth the effort.’
‘I haven’t seen it yet,’ Petia said, peevishly.
‘Sorry, Petia, I thought you had.’ Giles handed the key to her, but she gave it only a cursory look before handing it back to Anji. Keja opened his mouth to protest, but Giles warned him with a hard look.
The boy stuffed the key back into his pocket. ‘What’s next?’ he said, finished with his task and looking up at Giles.
‘Getting out of here. And getting Helleon and Linnia out with us. I hope you and Petia can produce some incredible images.’ Giles leaned back against the wall and drew a long breath. ‘Can you project a void at the dwarf? A nothing, no emotion, no action, emptiness?’
‘Whatever for?’ Petia asked. ‘What will that accomplish?’
‘I want Onyx to think we’ve been killed, that the beast has done us in. If he thinks we’re dead, he’ll forget about us and go on to other things.
‘You forget the key, Giles. He’ll send someone for it, a soldier or maybe the dwarf.’
‘Yes, but we’ll be gone by then,’ Giles responded. ‘Keja and I will empty our minds. You and Anji project “nothing”. Onyx will think he has plenty of time to recover the key.’
Keja’s face turned white. ‘I can’t do it, Giles. I tried before and I couldn’t empty my mind. The harder I tried the more thoughts flashed through it. That’s how Ulinek found out where we were. I’ll give us away again.’
‘You can do it, Keja,’ Giles said. He stepped forward, and before Keja could react, Giles closed his fist and struck the younger man flush on the chin. He stepped back, rubbing his knuckles, and watched as Keja sagged to the floor.
He turned to Petia. ‘Do it. Now.’
‘Better than a nothingness,’ Petia said, ‘How about an image of the lizard-beast devouring our bodies?’
‘A great idea. Just don’t overdo it.’ He motioned with his hand for her to get on with it.
Petia conferred with Anji briefly, then they sat, facing each other. They linked hands. The two Trans stared deeply into each other’s eyes, concentrating, fixing the image, agreeing on the details.
Giles realised how much he asked of them. For several minutes, Petia and Anji didn’t move. Giles propped Keja up against the wall. He felt secure that Keja wasn’t thinking about anything that would interfere with the success of the image-makers. Petia released her grip from Anji’s hands. She leaned back, sighed, and nodded at Giles.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
Petia stood and helped Anji to his feet. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, but her voice came out faint and thready.
Giles reached under Keja’s arms and lifted him until he was erect and leaning against the wall. He bent and slung him over his back. ‘Hang on to me,’ he whispered back. ‘Both of you.’ He staggered under Keja’s weight, shrugged once to redistribute it, and began to walk down the passage. Petia bent and picked up the candle, She put an arm around Anji, caught up with Giles and clung to his sleeve.
At the end of the corridor, they turned a corner. Giles made unerringly for the steps that would take them down two levels of the citadel.
Anji tugged at Petia’s sleeve and she turned, questioningly. ‘Rats,’ Anji whispered. Petia paused and concentrated. ‘Onyx has turned rats loose in the passage above. They’ve found the lizard’s body and are feasting on it.’ She grimaced. ‘It’s ugly. They’re tearing it to shreds.’
‘As long as it’s not us,’ Giles said, turning the corner at the bottom of the stairs and striding off towards the iron ladder.
At last they came to the narrow shaft leading downward to the storeroom where they had begun their night’s adventures. Giles lowered Keja to the floor, propping him up, and stood back to flex his back muscles. He was winded from the exertion and stood, breathing heavily, heart trip hammering.
‘How are you going to get him down?’ Petia asked.
‘Wake him up. He’s going to have to do the rest under his own power. Got to rest.’ He sat and said, ‘Have you got any strength left?’
‘Not much,’ Petia replied. ‘What do you need?’
‘We’ve got to get those two Brada out with us. Can you let them know?’
‘I’ll try. All I can do is throw images at them and hope they understand.’
‘Anything. Show themselves carrying the garbage out.’ Giles leaned forward and slapped Keja’s cheek, gently at first, and when he got no response, harder. Keja moaned and his eyes fluttered. ‘Come on, Keja, time to come back to life.’ Giles slapped him again and Keja’s arm shot up to grip Giles’ wrist. ‘Ah, good.’ Giles relaxed and let Keja come awake by himself.
‘I think I’ve got through. I wish my powers weren’t so simple. I sent them a bit of fear, a need to escape. I’d like to be able to communicate in words instead of hoping that vague emotions will get the message across.’
‘Be thankful for what you have,’ Giles said. ‘It’s time to get moving again.’ He pulled himself up and went to the shaft, peering down and listening intently for any sounds below. There were none. He motioned Petia to go down first. Anji followed.
‘You next, Keja. And I’m sorry about the punch, but I had to make sure you didn’t spoil things.’
Keja grunted and made a face that turned into a wry grin. ‘I know, but I’ll get even with you sometime, just the same.’
‘I reckoned you would,’ Giles said, slapping him on the shoulder. ‘Down you go.’
Two floors below they came to the cold room. As they crawled through the hole into the room, Keja spotted a string cheese hanging from the ceiling. He drew his battered sword, cut it down and sliced the string. Quickly he knotted several strings together, testing to see that the knots held.
‘The key, Anji,’ he said, holding out his hand. Reluctantly the boy fished in his pocket and pulled forth the final object of their long quest.
Keja slipped the key onto the string, measured it against Anji’s head and tied a final knot. He slipped the loop over Anji’s head. ‘Tuck that inside your tunic,’ he said. ‘We’re not about to lose that key now.’ The boy grinned, happy that they still trusted him with the key.
Giles opened the door a crack, listening cautiously for any sound of guards in the hallway or kitchen area. He closed the door gently. ‘I don’t hear anything except normal kitchen sounds,’ he said. ‘Any ideas about how to get out of here?’
‘Why not the same way we came in?’ Keja asked.
Petia closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she shook her head. ‘Guards there. But that’s the only doorway on this side of the citadel.’
‘We’re on a lower level now.’ Keja said. ‘Can we go out of a window like the Brada women did when we helped them escape?’
‘I’d forgotten completely about that,’ Giles said. ‘It seems like aeons ago, in some past life. Are your ropes in good order?’ He returned to Petia and Anji. ‘Can you tell anything about our Brada friends?’
‘How long do they need to be?’ Keja asked as he unwound his ropes.
‘Helleon and Linnia are uneasy, but they’re not sure why. They act as if they know we’ve returned, but they don’t know what to do.’
‘We can’t wait any longer. We’ll take them right out of the kitchen. Come on.’
Giles opened the door, checked the hallway and led the others at a run towards the kitchen staff’s quarters. Startled faces looked up from their tasks as they rushed into the room. The major-domo rushed towards them to protest, and Keja hit him square on the nose. Blood gushed and the portly man sat down squarely on a sack of potatoes.
‘Helleon! Linnia!’ Giles shouted. The two came running, Helleon from around the corner and Linnia from the other side of the huge spit.
They left as quickly as they had entered. Keja spotted a meat hook and grabbed it as he flew by. ‘Where’s a room with a window?’ Giles asked as they ran.
‘This way,’ Linnia said, and shouldered her way to the front.
The furnished room was empty of inhabitants. Giles rushed to the window and found it locked. Grabbing a chair, he smashed the window, shattering glass and bending the frame. Keja deftly knotted the meat hook to his ropes. When Giles finished, he threw the ropes through the window, hooking the underside of the ledge with the hook.
‘Brada first, then Anji, Petia, Keja,’ Giles said. ‘I’ll go last.’
They quickly slid down the rope to the ground thirty feet below. Gathered at the bottom, Keja tried in vain to loosen the hook and retrieve his ropes.
‘Leave them,’ Giles said. ‘They’ve served their purpose.’
The dash across the meadow to the forest seemed to take for ever. They heard a warning cry from the citadel and saw sentries on the top battlements gesturing. They had been spotted but ran for the protection of the trees and underbrush.
Just inside the forest they stopped to rest.
‘Giles, Helleon, Linnia.’ Natabor and another young Brada swung down from the trees above them. ‘No time to talk. Follow us.’
They trotted across a clearing, ducked behind a bush and found the Brada’s secret path. Giles silently praised the dedication of the two young Brada who had waited for them. They had promised to wait for two nights. This was the third. He wondered how much longer they would have waited. Good people, he thought, and then set his mind to keeping up with their tireless pace.
But Giles began to tire immediately. Within five minutes, he knew his old body wouldn’t be able to maintain the pace. Panting, temples pounding, his breath coming in gasps of liquid fire, he stopped, using a tree for support.
Sixteen
Along the sea’s edge, the Brada set up a temporary encampment in the forest, surrounded on three sides by brackish marshland filled with potholes and ponds. It was a difficult area to search, and not a likely place for the Brada to have disappeared.
Giles and the others arrived, weary and bone tired. It was a long run with few stops; they had pushed hard to get back to the coast. With every step, Giles was more impressed by the Brada’s stamina, intelligence, knowledge of woodlore, and most of all by their determination to hold on to what they considered theirs. But this did nothing to alleviate the pain Giles felt in every muscle in his body.
He was near collapse when he entered the camp. Giles vaguely remembered hearing a hawk screech, as if on the hunt, and realised only later that it was a warning from a perimeter lookout. He slumped to the boggy ground, not caring about the wet and cold.
‘A feast tomorrow,’ Veldon said. ‘Tonight, a nourishing broth and a long sleep.’
Giles nodded wearily and thanked him before Keja and Natabor half-carried him to a temporary hut made of beach driftwood, conifer boughs, and chinks filled with moss. The last thing he remembered was the harsh texture of the blanked with which someone covered him.
* * *
The late afternoon sun, glinting wanly through the ocean mist, greeted Giles when he awoke. Although he had slept, he hadn’t truly rested. His body ached all over and his vision blurred and cleared. He had about reached the end of his endurance – and yet Giles knew the hardest part still lay ahead.
Giles stirred enough to find Keja and Petia. Anji sat with two village elders, excitedly telling them of the part he had played in stealing the key from the heart of Onyx’s citadel. Giles let the boy boast. Little enough reward for the risks taken.
To Veldon, Giles said, ‘Lord Onyx won’t stop until he punished all Brada.’ He stopped short of mentioning the steel key. Veldon might know of it; whether he did mattered little to Giles. All that counted now was Onyx’s wrath and what he’d do to stop them.
‘We waited only for you,’ Veldon replied. ‘We have endured much at Onyx’s hand, but as you see, this is a temporary village. Most of the Brada have gone farther south to avoid Onyx’s steel warriors. We can now join the others.’
Giles wanted nothing more than to rest but realised the necessity for flight. ‘Let’s leave now,’ he said. ‘We may have lingered too long.’ Giles had developed a sense for danger over the years. Even through his fatigue, he sensed the nearness of death.
Veldon nodded and motioned to Natabor, who came to them and said that canoes awaited them on the beach.
‘We intend to walk,’ Giles said. ‘You and your people should be on your way.’
‘Many left during the night while you slept. Speed is your true ally against Onyx.’ Natabor cocked his head to one side but didn’t say what he thought: Giles Grimsmate couldn’t walk ten feet, much less the many miles required to escape. Instead, Natabor said, ‘We’ll take you along the coast faster than you could travel on foot. We cannot take you all the way to a port, but we will leave you with others, friends of the Brada, who will take you. From there you must be on your own.’
Giles gripped the young man’s arm. ‘Your have done more than enough. We are grateful.’
Natabor shook his head. ‘No, brother, it is we who are grateful.’ He shouldered two of the packs and led the way to the beach.
The canoes were long and narrow, only one person wide. Natabor ushered the companions into the slender boat, seating them one behind the other. He pushed the canoe off from the sandy beach, wading through the water to his knees, then leaping aboard to take a seat in the front facing the six paddlers already churning water with their long, powerful strokes.
Natabor grunted once and the six Brada lifted their paddles. He grunted again, and they lowered them into the water. Then he hit the side of the canoe softly with the heel of his hand and the first stroke took them out on the waves. Giles marvelled at the precision and power with which the young men stroked.
Soon, the shoreline disappeared and Natabor turned the canoe southeast and established a tireless rhythm. For two days they stayed beyond the sight of land. Occasionally, the Brada exchanged places, each taking a turn at navigating. Sometimes the paddlers would switch sides so that their arms would not tire, but always they moved up and down silently in the waves, with nothing to look at but endless water. The Brada took short naps from time to time, but Giles, feeling more tired than he had since the wars had ended, slept often and long.
At the end of the fourth day, Natabor signalled to the navigator to turn landward. When they came within sight of land, a small fire glowed on the dark beach. The canoe made directly for it.
‘Giles,’ said Natabor, ‘we must leave you now.’ He started to say more but emotion choked him. He hugged Giles close, then turned and jumped back into the canoe before the older man could appropriately thank the Brada.
‘Some good fella, eh?’ said a man lounging near the fire. He coughed and spat into the fire. ‘We will set you on a beach near Grifield. From there you are on your own. You have never seen us nor will you recognise us if you see us again. Understood?’
A man of few and direct word, Giles thought. ‘Nor do you know us. We are grateful and we thank you.’
‘Not for you. For them.’ The man indicated the rapidly vanishing Brada canoe. Their packs were taken and stored in a kind of dory, much wider than the canoe, with high bow planks. Six men pulled the oars and they travelled only by night, hugging the coastline. By early morning, the dory slipped into a small cove.
