“THIS IS ALL VERY INTERESTING,” the castellan said, refilling her cup. “So this man Harn has knowledge of this relic . . . you didn’t say what it was, by the way.”
Carys smiled. “No. I’m not completely sure, and besides that—”
“You want to keep it secret.”
“My orders are to be as discreet as possible.”
He nodded. “I see. But look, Carys, we can get any information you want out of this man by our own methods. Not that he’d be much good to you afterward, of course. ” He sipped the sweet wine and looked at her. “Wouldn’t that be easier?”
She pulled a face. “In a way it would. But it would break my cover—I’ve worked hard to be accepted by them, and now I think they trust me. No, I think it would be best if I helped him to escape.” She raised an eyebrow. “If you agree, of course. He’s your prisoner.”
He paused a moment, stoking the fire with fresh coals, then turned and picked up the insignia, dangling the silver chain over his fingers. “Who am I to stand in the way of the Watchlords?” He handed it back to her, and she slipped it on, feeling the cold discs slide against her skin. “But there’ll be a price.”
She looked up sharply. She’d been expecting this.
“How much?”
“Half. Half of the reward for the keeper, and the others, and half of whatever they give you for finding this relic.”
She thought briefly. “All right. I’ve no choice.”
“Nor have I. We need to work together.” He rubbed a hand through his stubbly gray beard. “Now. This escape will need to be convincing.” He thought for a moment, then stood up and went out, and Carys finished the wine in one gulp. Picking up her crossbow, she loaded it quickly and swung it under one arm. Then she picked some bread off the tray and crammed it into her pocket. When he came back she was waiting by the fire.
He looked pleased, and she knew he had his own plans ready. “The Watch must watch each other first.” That had been Jellie’s first lesson—all her life she had seen it; even in school, child had spied on child, reported anything, competed for the honor of it. She’d been one of the best. Now they’d be watching her, but that was all she had expected.
“We’re ready. Here are the keys.” He handed her a small ring. “I’ll show you a postern gate which will be guarded by one man—shoot at him and he’ll fall. It would be helpful if you missed; I’m short of men as it is.”
She took the keys. “How did I get these?”
“You’ll have to serve up that story. After all, you’ve been trained for it.” He coughed again, a raw bark. “I’ll be glad to get out of this rat-hole. The smog gets to you.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I hope so. I hope to buy promotion to some comfortable village. Somewhere the sun shines.” He laughed harshly. “When I get the money.”
Their eyes met. She smiled wryly. “Thanks for the food. Now show me the way.”
GALEN PULLED HIMSELF UP as the key rattled in the lock. With both chained hands he pushed the long hair from his face, and winced as the light fell over him.
“Galen!”
She was inside in seconds, crouched by him. He stared at her. “Carys!” Then, convulsed by fear, he grabbed her. “Is Raffi here? He’s not been caught?”
“No. No, he’s fine. Keep still!” She was unlocking the chains; they slithered off and he rubbed his bruised wrists with relief.
“But how did you get in here? What’s been happening?”
“I’ll explain outside.” She tugged the chains through the straw and grabbed his arm. “There’s no time now. Follow me close; don’t speak. Do what I do. Please, Galen!”
He looked at her as if he would say something, then nodded. She helped him up, but he pushed her off. “I can manage.”
“Good.” She put her head around the door. “Come on. This way.”
The steps led up, around a damp wall. She climbed soundlessly, Galen a tall shadow at her shoulder. He was stiff and sore, but he moved carefully and, glancing back, she saw his eyes were alert. At the top of the steps was a dim corridor, pungent with smoke; from a guard-room nearby the sound of voices and the rattle of dice echoed. They edged carefully by; Galen caught a glimpse of the men inside, their backs to him. Then he was running down a passage, into another, and all the time neither of them spoke.
Then Carys stopped. Finger to lips, she jerked her head and, stepping forward, he saw around the corner a man sitting on a bench eating lumps of potato from the tip of his knife.
Beside him was a small, half-open door.
Galen glanced at Carys. She raised the bow. He gave a harsh smile and shrugged. Carys was surprised, but she turned at once and braced herself. He saw the bolt quiver; with a sound like a crack it was gone. The man sprawled on the floor.
Leaping over, Carys had the door open; she turned back and gasped, “Leave him!”
Galen straightened from the body. He pushed past her to the door and peered around it. The night was black, the narrow alley stinking with refuse.
“Where?”
“Straight on!”
He followed her up the lane, leaping piles of rubbish, the rats scuttling before them. Ducking around corners, they came to a low arch and raced under it; in the shadow she swung around and racked the bow again hastily.
“You think they’ll be coming.”
“When they find out.” She glanced back, then tugged away from the wall. “Down here.”
Turning into a ruined courtyard, they crossed it and scrambled through a hole in the wall to a wider street. She turned left. “Hurry!”
They ran close to the wall, through the fog of darkness and the soft hooting of owls. Once Galen stumbled; picking himself up, he glanced back. Shadows moved in the entrance to the lane. He ran after her, his face dark.
They climbed over a roof-fall, then under a wide arch of stone.
“Come on!” She ran ahead but he caught up with her and grabbed her arm. “Wait!”
She looked back. “We can’t! They’re coming!”
“Where’s Raffi?” Galen hissed. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know!” She stared into the darkness under the arch. “He should be here! It was here I said . . .”
They could hear the Watchmen now; soft feet running.
“In the doorway.” Galen pulled her in beside him and peered out.
Instantly the side of his face was lit with color; a vivid green flash that dazzled them both.
“What was that!” Carys gasped.
The keeper grinned wolfishly. “We call it the third action of the inner eye. Don’t tell him, but he’s quite good at it.”
Gazing past him she was shocked to see the archway spitting flame and sparks; for a few moments it fizzed and crackled and then went black, and she could see the bodies of two Watchmen lying still.
“Are they dead?”
“Stunned.”
“How can he do that?” she marveled as the shapes of Raffi and the Sekoi came slithering up the broken street.
Raffi raced up to Galen and stood staring at him. “She did it,” he said in a choked voice.
Galen smiled grimly. “Indeed she did.”
Raffi touched the keeper’s arm hesitantly. “We thought you were lost . . .”
Galen shook his head. “Always keep the faith, boy,” he said gruffly. “Sometimes the Makers act in ways we could never imagine. Have you got the chart?”
“Here.”
“Then let’s go from here. Before more of them come.”
Following the list of streets, they twisted between houses and past palaces whose windows were empty, and through whose halls the wind moaned uneasily. Rain began to fall; a black, oily drizzle. The city was changing; they were coming to the oldest part, the citadel, and the ruins here were of great temples and palaces, shattered by the terrible destruction. The darkness grew deeper, and more silent; even the rats and owls were left behind, and all they heard now was the sound of their own running,
soft footsteps pattering in alleys and doorways, as if the city was full of ghosts that fled endlessly.
After half an hour, Galen stopped them. “Here,” he gasped. “We rest here.”
It was a small window; climbing through they found they were in the kitchen of some villa. An empty hearth was black with soot, and one table still stood, huge and immovable in the center of the room.
Galen crossed to the wall and sat down, easing his leg with a groan.
Raffi crouched beside him. “Did they hurt you?”
“Not much. They were just warming up.”
Carys sat too, more slowly. She looked at Raffi, who bit his lip. The Sekoi stretched its legs out and scratched its fur. “Are you going to tell him, or shall we?” it said severely.
“I will,” Carys muttered.
Galen looked up at her. “I should thank you, Carys. I owe you my life. Maybe more, my honor as a keeper.” Gathering the black hair from his face, he knotted it in the dirty string and looked at her, his hawk-face grim and dark. “It’s a debt I’ll pay, if ever I can.”
“You may not want to,” she said.
He frowned. “Why not?”
She was silent, looking down. Raffi rolled the glass globe nervously in his pocket.
“I’ve got something to tell you.” But Galen looked at her so sharply that she couldn’t say it; for the first time in her life she felt afraid to speak. Lies leaped to her mind, convincing stories, excuses; fiercely she drove them away.
When she did speak, her voice was defiant. “Galen, I’ve been deceiving you. I’m not what I said. I’m a spy. For the Watch.”
It was out. His face did not flicker, his eyes black and keen. She looked away, but his answer made her jerk her head back in astonishment.
“I know,” he said.
23
Kest’s creatures attacked them. But Flain had a maze built before the House, and the beasts and birds of nightmare wandered in it and howled.
Then Kest arose, and wept. “The damage I have done,” he said, “I will make good. The monsters I have made I will destroy.”
And he took up his weapons and walked through them all into the dark.
Book of the Seven Moons
THEY ALL STARED AT HIM IN AMAZEMENT. Then the Sekoi gave a low purr of laughter.
“You knew?” Raffi gasped.
“From the beginning.” Galen rubbed his leg calmly. “From the first time we saw her at the tree.”
Carys was staring at him. “You couldn’t have!”
“And as we went on I grew more certain. She writes an interesting journal, Raffi. You should read it.”
“You . . .” She shook her head, disbelieving. “You deciphered it?”
“A few times.” He smiled sourly. “I’m sorry, Carys, but you were the one who was deceived. I kept you with us because I knew you’d be useful. You could keep the Watch away from us; get us where we needed to go. So it proved. At the gates, for instance.”
Bewildered, she sat down. The Sekoi was purring in ecstasy, all its fur bristling. “Wonderful,” it murmured. “Wonderful.”
“I made sure you went under the first wagon. I knew there was no real way into the city, but I thought you’d persuade them. I also thought you might be useful if any of us were caught.” He rubbed his sore neck. “Luckily for me.”
There was nothing, nothing she could say. The shock of it was like a cold downpour; it left her shivering. All this time she thought she had been so clever . . . She shuddered with the thought of her pride. All that time. Now she knew how Raffi must have felt.
He looked furious. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Galen glared at him hard. “Because I’m the master, boy. I keep the secrets. And besides, you’d have given it away a hundred times. You can’t lie well enough.”
Astounded, Raffi collapsed into silence. Galen leaned forward. “But I’m surprised, Carys, that you’ve already told these two. When I saw you in that cell I presumed you’d have pretended to be caught. So whose side are you really on?”
She was silent. They all watched her. Then she said quietly, “I’d only ever known the Watch, Galen, until I met you. I’d never spoken to keepers before. You did some things . . .”
He nodded, his long hair falling. “They told you it was all illusion.”
“But why?” She looked up at him, face flushed. “I’m beginning to see some of the things they told us aren’t true. I’m not sure anymore what I should believe. And then, when you were caught . . .” She shrugged. “I just wanted to get you out.”
Galen looked at her, and something in his eyes softened.
The Sekoi squirmed uneasily. “Very touching,” it muttered. “Forgive me for saying this, but, keeper, you realize this may all be lies. She may still want us to take her to the Crow. That’s why she got you out.”
“I do,” Carys said.
“Yes, but only to solve your doubts? Or might you not turn on us all when you find him? To capture the Crow would bring you a great deal of gold, no doubt.” Its eyes gleamed yellow.
“For myself,” she snapped.
“Prove it,” Galen said quietly.
“How?”
“Leave your weapon here.”
She stared at him, astonished. “That’s madness! The city is full of dangers; we’d have no protection.”
“Do it as an act of faith.” His dark eyes watched her carefully. “Keepers carry no weapons.”
“They do,” she retorted. “Invisible ones.”
“I have none, Carys.”
She glanced away. “Yes, but just to leave it here! It’s so stupid!”
“It will show us that you mean what you say.”
She turned; for a long moment she stared at him, then at Raffi, who said nothing. Finally she pulled the bow off her back and threw it down. “I must be totally insane!”
Disgusted, she flung the spare bolts after it. “No wonder the Order’s been wiped out!”
“It hasn’t. Not yet.” Galen took the globe from Raffi and fingered it. “And it never will. Not while we have faith.”
As he said it an enormous crack burst in the sky outside, making them all jump. The Sekoi slithered to the window; as it looked out, they saw its face was rippled with red light.
“You’d better see this,” it hissed.
Raffi pushed in. Another whooshing sound shot up; he saw a burst of red flame high in the dark; it fell in flakes behind the high walls.
“What was it?”
“Watch-flares.” The Sekoi pulled its head in. “They’ve found the men under the arch. We need to move.”
“Carefully though.” Carys followed. “They’ll double the patrols.”
She slid out behind the Sekoi, but halfway through the window Raffi saw her look back at the crossbow; a hopeless, bitter look. Then he climbed after her.
Galen hurried them. They moved through broken palaces like shadows. But soon the buildings were left behind; they came to a desolation of smoke, rising and hissing from cracks; shattered walls broke up the way. There were no streets here; the destruction had left only tumbled masses of stone. They hurried by the smashed pieces of an enormous statue; Raffi saw a hand as big as a room, lying pointing to the sky and, still in its original place, a huge bare foot, so vast that the toes were like small hills they had to scramble over.
The stench grew. Shadows of draxi swooped overhead, their screams keen. Raffi slipped and slithered behind the others, glad that Galen had the globe; he had fallen so often he would have broken it.
Now they ran over a wide square, their feet scuffling on the stones, and in the middle came to a pillar so tall its top was lost in the black sky. Galen stopped to look at it; every side was covered with cryptic letters.
Raffi caught his arm. “We can’t stop.”
“Look at it. Centuries old. The secrets it has.”
“Hurry!” the Sekoi hissed from the dark. “I can smell them. They’re close!”
They raced across the
square. On the far side was an inky stillness; plunging into it, Raffi heard Carys shout, then he felt the steaming water soak his knees. He scrambled back.
“Flooded,” the Sekoi spat.
They gazed at an eerie landscape. An archway and some broken pillars rose from the water. Vapor hung above the surface and some leathery vegetation had managed to sprout here; it grew over the broken walls like a creeping rash. Steam gathered around them; where they stood, the ground was reverting to marsh, stinking of sulfur and the invisible heat.
Raffi tugged his feet out.
“We’ll have to go around.” Galen glanced back. “Take care. The ground may not be safe.”
They had reached the heart of Tasceron, and it was a morass of ruined halls. Here and there carvings rose, half a body, a broken face; strange obelisks and doorways that led nowhere, standing on their own in the dim lake. Carefully they made their way around the edge of the swamp, climbing over walls and through gaps and holes.
Finally Galen stopped. He bent over the chart. “We’re close. We need to find a tree.”
“Here!” The Sekoi looked around, wondering.
“Yes. A calarna tree.”
Raffi stared at him. The calarna was the first tree, the tree of Flain. It had given its branches for the House of Trees. Were they that close?
“Spread out.” Galen crumpled the paper. “Quickly.”
Turning, Raffi ducked under the wall into a blackened garden. Brambles were waist-high; he forced his way into them, arms up, dodging the swinging, slashing thorns. Then a stifled yell stopped him.
“Galen! Over here!”
Tearing his coat in his hurry, he backed out and found Carys at the stump of something warped and ill-shapen. Galen shoved her aside and bent down to it. He gave a hiss of satisfaction.
“This was it.”
“Keeper.” The Sekoi’s voice was quiet and cold. They looked up at it; its yellow eyes were narrowed.
“We’re being watched.”
“Sense-lines, Raffi!” Galen growled. “Now!”
Silent, he sent them out, and touched the flickers of men, many of them, running silent as ghosts through the ruined arcades. Galen was on hands and knees, groping on the ground. “Hurry! It’s got to be here! An opening of some kind!”