tales by sheya

the child, part 3, chapter 30 - 'the liberation of becki'

2006-09-24T01:57:00.000-05:00

The rest was pretty anticlimactic for Stephen. He and Mac returned to their companions to find that the battle was freshly over, and there was little left to be done besides stepping past the unpleasant remnants of the fight, and looking for the outside door to freedom.

The door they found quickly enough. Jack gestured towards it, Stephen unlocked it, and out they all went. Simple as that.

In the blinding sunlight of outdoors they found, just as the Master had promised, Malachi was waiting for them. Mac conferred with him briefly, and then, with a fond farewell and a bid to them of 'Good journey,' Maccabees stepped back through the little door and plunged himself back into the hell-hole.

Swiftly and unseen, the angel now navigated the noxious passage, not even pausing when he reached the spot where the fried demon's body should have been, yet wasn't. On he went, back into the narrow stairway, rushing down to the level where Beatriz lived, where Walker would be waiting. The foul stench of demon wafted all about him as he entered the level. No surprise, that. The guards both human and otherwise all knew that Beatriz was the objective, and they would hardly let her go without a fight.

Nevertheless, thought Mac with grim determination, Beatriz goes free this day.

Here.

Maccabees veered towards the unspoken voice, bowing himself before the one who had called him, spreading out his wings to hide his face and his being in humble respect. My Master, said he.

Walker arrived like a thunderstorm some minutes ago, and is hiding near the workroom, seeking some way to reach Beatriz and bring her forth, the Master informed him.

His anger is against me, Mac admitted.

Yes, because I sent you with the others first, and so delayed you from attending him and his work. His anger - this will test him and make his life bitter, until at last he learns to surrender his own notions and plans unto me. Until he chooses to trust me, that I truly do know what is best. How sad, the pain that Walker's pride will yet inflict on others! And a single tear slid down the Master's cheek. He sighed. Then, with a gesture, the Master added, Come. You will show yourself to Walker now.

~~~~~~~

There were four guards outside the workroom door, and no telling how many more inside. The guards had arrived mere steps ahead of Walker. They had started bellowing at Beatriz as soon as they entered the room; Walker could hear her crying even now. Quickly he had found himself a place to hide while he racked his brains in a frenzy, trying desperately to come up with a plan for her rescue.

He was seething on the inside. That Mac guy! This was all his fault! If he'd just obeyed and come with Walker right away, instead of arguing with him and then going off another way - why, they would have reached Beatriz first and brought her out safely, well before the guards' arrival. But no - Mac had delayed him, and now the poor girl was stuck, and here Walker was stuck too! All alone, and in need of a plan. How would he ever get Beatriz out now?

A hand landed on his shoulder right at that moment, and a voice spoke softly into his ear: 'Be not afraid.' Even so, Walker jumped nearly a foot in the air and snatched for the hilt of his borrowed sword.

'You'll not need that,' the voice continued, the hand now closing over Walker's to prevent him from drawing the weapon.

Eyes wild, Walker spun to look up into the face that went with the voice - and let out a sigh of relief. 'Oh, it's you,' he said to Mac. Then, frowning, he added, 'You sure took your sweet time showing up here, didn't you? In fact, I'm surprised you even bothered to come here at all. After all, what's Beatriz to you?'

Ignoring the man's angry, baiting words, Maccabees asked, 'Are you ready now?'

'Ready for what?'

'To go get Beatriz.'

Walker turned and glanced at the guarded workroom door, then turned back to Mac. 'Well, yeah. But first we need a...'

'Come then,' said Mac, not waiting for Walker to finish with the word plan. He caught Walker's arm and raised him to his feet, then took a step towards the workroom.

Walker shrugged his arm out of Mac's grasp. 'What are you, nuts? How are we supposed to get past those guards at the door? Not to mention the dozen or so more guards inside the room!'

'More like two dozen,' Mac replied serenely.

'Two... How could you know that?'

'Come,' said Maccabees. And when Walker still hung back, Mac simply walked on.

He is nuts, thought Walker. He watched in horror as Mac strolled up to the workroom door, expecting at any moment that the four guards would reach out and nab the fool. Only... they didn't. As Mac drew closer to the guards, the four men began, one by one, to yawn, and then to stretch. To nod, and then - to snore.

They were quite literally falling asleep on their feet! Mac simply walked right through the midst of the standing sleepers and on into the workroom itself. Then, at the door, he turned and looked at Walker, gesturing for the man to follow.

Walker gawped. How on earth? Four men, falling asleep like that? How...?

Mac gestured again, much more insistently. Walker scrambled to his feet and ran to obey this time. He hurried to Mac's side and looked into the workroom, fully expecting to see that all the guards in here were sound asleep as well.

They weren't.

~~~~~~~

The workers, as usual, were chained to their stations, but precious little work was being done by them this day. Most of them were too busy hanging back as far away as their chains would allow them to go, trying to keep an eye on the twenty or so guards ringing Beatriz, while at the same time trying to avoid looking directly at the guards, in order to pretend they didn't exist. After all, nobody wanted to draw the guards' attention to themselves in any way; bad enough the guards were in the workroom at all, harassing that girl - sure wouldn't want the guards to be coming over here, they were all thinking.

As for the guards, as soon as Mac and Walker appeared in the doorway, one of them cried out, 'There they are!' And a moment later, the circle surrounding Beatriz was bristling with weaponry. Quick as lightning, the senior officer among the guards grabbed Beatriz and laid a knife to her throat. With a mangy grin, he declared, 'Bout time you blokes showed up. Now you get to watch your little sweetie here bleed to death!' And his hand began to move, to draw the blade across her neck.

'Get over there!' said a voice in Walker's ear. It had to be Mac, of course, but when Walker's head automatically swiveled in that direction, he saw to his surprise - no Mac!

Great, he's gone again! flew through Walker's head as he turned and launched himself into the room. Just how he would battle his way through twenty guards to stop Beatriz from being murdered, he didn't know. But if she'd died...

If she died, he thought, there would be a number of people to answer for her death - starting with Mac. And at the same time he thought, if she died, he would see to it that she did not die alone.

~~~~~~~

He ran forward, somewhat annoyed that the guards outside the workroom were sound asleep, but not these in here who were about to snuff out Beatriz' life. Why was this? He grabbed hold of his sword as he ran, seizing the hilt - yes, even wrenching at the hilt.

Stuck? How could it be stuck? He'd just been able to draw it a few minutes ago - hadn't he? Distracted, he glanced down at his side...

Something twisted under his foot, sending him tumbling. His empty hands came up over his head as he hit the floor rolling. Rolling, rolling...

He struck. Legs all about him were sent vaulting into the air like so many tenpins. Disoriented, Walker shook his head and looked around at the fallen guards, their weapons scattered into all parts of the room. What? Where? He saw whips and cudgels all over the place, and right here by his hand, a sharp knife, its tip tinged with a drop of dark dark red...

Beatriz!

He sprang up. Where was Beatriz? Wildly he stared around him, searching...

There! The senior guard, the one who had lost the knife he had nicked her neck with, was now dragging Beatriz across the room, heading for the door - only to be brought up short by the chain that still held her fast to her work station. Swearing gruffly, the guard fumbled for his keys to release her and take her away.

'Let me go!' Beatriz begged, a thin trickle of blood running down her throat. 'Walker! Please, help me!' she pleaded, the tears streaming down her cheeks.

'Aha!' The guard produced his keys. He wrapped one of his arms round Beatriz as he tried to jam the proper key into the lock fastening her chain. She squirmed, pushing against him, knowing instinctively that if he unchained her from her place, it would not go well for her once he had her away from the workroom.

'Cut that out!' the guard growled with an oath, smacking her upside the head. A fresh trickle of blood ran down her temple now, probably from the key itself.

'Leave her be!' Walker ordered. He had given up now on drawing that balky sword - why had Morgen even loaned it to him? - and was ready to take on the guard hand to hand.

'You have no need here to fight any,' said a voice close by Walker's ear. 'Only draw close and touch her chain.'

Walker's head snapped around again, looking to see who could be speaking to him. And, as before, he saw no one near him - particularly he saw nothing of Mac, whose voice that surely was. What he did see as he raked the room with a glance, was all the other guards scrambling to retrieve their weapons as fast as they could. Except that as fast as they could was none too fast at all; they might well have been men wading waist-deep through molasses. What's more, as soon as any one guard was able to pick up a weapon, another guard would cry out that that weapon was his, so that quarrels were breaking out all about Walker in every direction.

What on earth was going on here?

'Walker, quickly! See to Beatriz,' came the voice a third time.

Beatriz, right. Nothing slowed Walker down as he hurried to her rescue - though perhaps his own perception of the passing of time greatly slowed. Long heartbeats seemed to go past as he crossed those few feet toward the guard holding her captive. Touch her chain, Walker thought, remembering what the voice had told him. How doing that might do Beatriz the least bit of good was beyond him, but never mind all that - just get to her.

Walker could see the earnest desperation on her face as he came closer. He could see as well the blazing hatred on the enemy's face. He saw the man's fist come up, drawing back, making ready to fly into the side of Walker's head as soon as he would reach Beatriz.

All right, he's going to punch me, thought Walker, not letting that turn him aside. Touch the chain. Why touch the chain? What was that going to do?

Walker's fingers stretched out. He braced himself for the blow from the guard that would come at any moment. He heard Beatriz calling, 'Watch out, Walker!'

Yes, he knew he was about to get a fist in the side of his head, he thought crossly. She didn't need to warn him about that. He took the final step that would bring him to her, and felt the cold iron of her chain under his outstretched fingertips. And then...

His foot landed on something that rolled. Suddenly he was falling. His hand convulsed automatically onto the chain to break that fall, and now Beatriz was falling as well. He heard her screaming, screaming. Something he barely noticed swished past him, over the top of his head.

Walker crashed to the floor, with Beatriz on top of him. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' he mumbled to her, realizing now what she had been trying to warn him of - not the fist to the head, but the obstacle underfoot.

There was a third crash as one more body hit the floor. Walker looked. It was the senior guard, completely unconscious.

Huh? 'What happened to him?' Walker blurted.

'When he tried to hit you, you and Beatriz both fell below his swing, so that he wound up punching himself in his own jaw,' said a voice above them. 'Which, apparently, was made of glass.' Hands were reaching down to help the girl up, and then Walker as well. Hands that belonged to...

'Mac!' Walker scowled at him deeply. 'It's about time you showed up - again! Where did you go? You left me hanging out to dry here!'

The look Mac gave him in return was totally unreadable. He only replied, 'The guards will shortly come out of this lethargy, and it would be best for us to be out of here by then.' He took Beatriz by the hand on his left side, then held out his right to Walker. 'Time to go.'

Glowering, Walker refused the hand. 'You got a lot of explaining to do, mister!' he growled. 'Come on!' Taking instead Beatriz' other hand, Walker leapt over the knocked-out guard and the three ran from the room.

~~~~~~~

'This way,' said Maccabees, starting off to the right.

'Why?' Walker balked. 'Why should I listen to you?'

'It is well for you and for her that you listened to me in the workroom just now,' Mac replied.

'Listened to you! Where were you? You were nowhere in sight!'

'Precisely.' Smiling at Beatriz, Mac said again, 'This way.'

A moment's hesitation, and then she followed him, leaving Walker no choice but to follow as well. Mac led them away from the workroom and down one of the corridors of cells, then swiftly unlocked a random door and pushed them both through. The door clicked shut behind them.

Walker, furious, barely able to keep his voice low, turned on Mac. 'What was all that about? You abandoned me to rescue her all by myself, and didn't pop up again till it was all over! Why should I ever, ever trust you about anything again? I should...'

But his voice sputtered to a halt. He had caught sight of Beatriz standing off to one side, cringing because of Walker's anger, rubbing at her wrists as she glanced back and forth between her two rescuers. Rubbing at her wrists...

Walker stared. 'Wai... wai... wait a minute! How did that happen?'

Maccabees turned to look at the young woman, then turned back to Walker. 'How did what happen?'

Walker pointed. 'Her wrists! The chains are gone! She was wearing them when I fell, because I pulled her down by the chains. And then you picked her up again, and... And I don't remember anyone ever taking her chains off. What happened to them?'

'That is an excellent question, my son,' answered yet another voice. 'But first, let me introduce you to your new sister. Her name,' and the room lit up with a lovely glow, 'is Becki.'

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 3, chapter 29 - 'not without stephen'

2006-09-10T00:34:00.000-05:00

They all but flew down the stairs. If you can take stairs two at a time while going downstairs, then that's what they did. After all, there was no telling when Ol' Ugly back up there in the kitchen would pull himself back together and come roaring after them again.

It wasn't the easiest thing in the world, hurrying down stairs like these. As soon as they set foot in this stairway, they realized that it was barely half as wide as the other one they'd grown used to. Not only that, but most of the torches here weren't lit - hey, a goodly number of torches weren't even there - so plainly these stairs weren't in use very much. On top of that, Walker, who was in the lead, kept bursting through great curtains of cobwebs every few steps. Those and the cobwebs over their heads, all strung across the ceiling and dribbling down the walls, were so thick that Jack reckoned you could just about make clothing out of them.

And then they got to the first landing with a door. And Jack and Stephen, fast as they were going, skidded to a stop to stare.

What was this? There wasn't just one door at this landing; there were two!

'Two doors?' said Jack, looking for Walker who was already racing on to the next landing down. 'What's the other one for?'

Walker paused only long enough to shrug. 'How should I know?' he said briskly, and rushed off again.

'What do you mean, how should you know?' Jack called after him in the loudest whisper he dared. 'You've been scouting in this place for how long now? Didn't you bother to find out where the second door goes?' But Walker had disappeared around the corner below without another word.

Jack glanced at Stephen, but all he could do was shrug back at him. 'Don't look at me,' said the little man. 'Before you guys rescued me, the only places I knew were my cell, the workroom, and what came between. I'd heard rumors there was this stairway here, but...' And he gave another shrug.

'Hmm...' Jack murmured, taking another look at the twin doors. He reached for a doorknob.

'Hey, you two coming or not?' Walker appeared again round the lower landing, glaring up at them.

Sigh. 'Yeah, coming!'

Walker didn't wait for them to catch up before he scampered away again. Jack and Stephen followed, trying to keep up. Through light and shadow (mostly shadow) the three of them ran on. Landing after landing. Cobweb after cobweb. Twin doors after twin doors. Down, down, down... oh, a long way down! But then of course, it had also been a long way up.

'...thirteen...' Jack overheard Walker mutter at last.

'Thirteen what?' he asked.

Walker nodded back at the set of doors they had just left behind. 'That was the thirteenth level we passed since we came out of the kitchens. And the kitchens themselves were on the fourteenth level up. So...'

'So that means we're almost there. The next level will be ground level,' said Jack, a tired smile spreading across his face. And on they all hurried, glad that their descent was nearly over. Knowing they were almost out seemed to give such wings to their feet, that before they knew it, the next set of doors came into sight. Jack and Stephen both slowed, and Jack reached out a hand to one of the two doors...

'No, not there! This way!' Walker hissed. He was already beyond those doors, still rushing on down the stairs. But going where? Jack wondered. A glance at Stephen showed the same puzzlement mirrored on his face. But with Walker already gone, there was nothing the pair of them could do but follow.

They clattered on down the stairs, Walker in the lead, Jack and Stephen doing their best to catch him up - when Walker suddenly skidded to a halt. Before they could stop themselves, Jack and Stephen had smacked right into the man's back. There was a stunned moment of tense silence as the three of them realized...

That four men were waiting here, on the landing just below them. Three of them were wearing swords, and one of those was struggling to draw his sword even as another wearing a sword restrained him.

And the fourth? Big and burly, with hands like hams, he stood a bit apart, looking up at Walker, Jack, and Stephen.

And then the big man began to laugh. Turning to the rest, he pointed up the stairs and said, 'Hey, look! It's Walker!'

~~~~~~~

Stunned, Walker drew back a step, nearly treading on Jack's foot behind him. Stephen hid himself behind Jack's back, peeking cautiously out at the four men blocking their way downstairs. Who was that group? Guards? They sure didn't look like guards.

The one who had been struggling to draw his sword - the youngest of the four - had given that up now and was instead beginning to chuckle himself. 'Hey, it is Walker! And, look, there's...'

'Jack?' That from the fourth man, the one who had neither laughed, nor gone for his weapon, nor stopped the boy from drawing his sword. 'Jack?' he said again, peering closer. 'Man, brother! What happened to you?'

Jack peered back. '...James?' he said at last. 'James! But you look...'

And now the lot of them all began speaking at once. 'Forest!' 'Logan!' 'Mac!' 'Is that Stephen?' And in the next moment they had rushed together and were slapping each other on the backs, or punching each other on the arms, breathing easier in their great relief.

Swiftly Jack introduced Stephen to the four newcomers, and James introduced Seth to the three from upstairs. And while the others gabbled together, catching their new friends up on their adventures, James drew Jack aside. Brother caught brother in a relieved embrace, and then they pushed each other out to arm's length and took a good look.

'What happened to your face?' said each man in the same breath. And then, chuckling, they added, 'You go first.' 'No, you!' 'No...'

'All right, I'll go first,' said James.

'Yeah, how could all those cuts and bruises heal this fast? There's barely a scar left!'

A nod towards Mac. 'You should have a drink from his canteen.' Touching the still-bloody welts on Jack's face, James added, 'Seriously. Right now, you should. Hey, Mac!' And in between sips, then gulps, from Mac's canteen, Jack spilled out the short version of the battle in the kitchen.

'We must go,' said Mac, taking back his canteen and corking it. Turning away - even as Jack and James were exclaiming over the swift changes in Jack's wounds - Mac called to the rest. 'We must go now!'

'Right,' said Forest briskly, and he started up the stairs.

'Wrong way!' said Walker.

Huh? 'What do you mean, wrong way?' said Seth. 'We're getting outta here, and out is up those stairs.'

Walker looked at all the faces staring at him. 'Aren't you forgetting someone?' he said. Then, pointing, he said, 'You! Mac. You're supposed to be my partner, right? Well, did anyone get Beatriz out?'

Silence. And then, softly, Mac repeated to Walker the woman's insistence that she would trust no one to set her free but Walker himself.

'Yeah, that's what I thought. You remember what you said upstairs, Jack? About not leaving without Stephen? Well, I'm not leaving without Beatriz. Mac, you're my partner. Let's go get her!'

Mac slowly shook his head. 'I cannot.'

'What?' Walker's eyes all but bulged from their sockets. 'What's the matter with you, man? You plan to leave her here to rot while you save your hide?'

'Hey, now! Wait a second, that's just not fair...' Stephen started to protest. But Forest cut him off with, 'Look, Mac has his orders, Walker. The Master met with us downstairs and told Mac to make sure we get outside first, and then he's to meet up with you again, Walker, to...'

Mac held up a hand to forestall the rest. 'We must go. I will return to your side as soon as can be, Walker.'

'Hmph.' Walker glared one last glare at them all, then plunged on down the stairs to find the second level where Beatriz lived. Mac turned and gestured the rest of them up the stairs before him. 'And be ready to draw swords,' he added.

~~~~~~~

Forest got there first, and was frowning at the pair of doors as the others gathered behind him. 'Which one?' he said.

'And why are there two doors for each level in this stairway, anyway?' added Jack.

'This door,' said Mac, reaching through them all to lay a hand on the door to the right, 'leads into the ground-floor level as usual. And this one,' his hand moved to the door to the left, 'is for maintenance.'

'Maintenance? Meaning... what?' asked Jack.

'Come and see,' said Maccabees. And he opened the door.

They crowded in through it. A narrow passageway stretched before them. Narrow, dark. Smelly.

Damp.

Someone sneezed, and the sound of it echoed away into nothing.

'Where are we?' said Jack, his voice automatically dropping into a whisper. 'This place smells like...'

'...like what it is,' said Mac.

'The garbage dump,' said James.

It was the truth. Intermittent torches played sickly yellow light over the stacks and stacks of - faugh! - putrid stuff! All along the right-hand wall, up by the ceiling, were dark holes, each with its own personal pile of muck directly under it. Ancient stains oozed down from the blind gaping holes.

Oh, and the flies. Mustn't forget them! The air was alive with them; the piles alive with their larvae.

The six of them picked their way carefully past the nasty reeking heaps, squinting to avoid getting anything with wings into their eyes. With a sigh, Forest pulled that same bit of cloth out of his pack once again to tie over his mouth and nose, and shortly the rest were doing the same.

'This is the day of stinks,' muttered Seth.

'The day of something else, too,' frowned Jack, peering deep into the dank passage ahead of them.

'Draw swords,' Mac told them. And for good reason. For there in front of them, blocking the narrow way...

...was their old friend from upstairs, the demon with the deep-fried head.

~~~~~~~

Naturally, he was not alone. A cadre of guards - Jack wondered briefly how the guy had managed to gather a second set of reinforcements so fast - were clustered behind him, their clubs and whips at the ready in their hands. The demon guard grinned leeringly, his face not a bit improved by its sojourn it the deep-fryer. 'There they are,' he growled to his men. 'Take 'em!'

In just moments, the battle was joined. It was not easy, fighting all strung out along a narrow, trash-strewn passage like this. Even so, Forest - first into the fray, of course! - managed to take on two of the guards simultaneously. Seth was right in there behind the lad, popping one great bare fist into his opposite palm, grinning. One of the guards lashed a whip his way, only to find that the hulking Seth reached out to catch the whip, wrapping it securely round his massive forearm and jerking the guard wielding the whip right off his feet.

James and Mac too spread out up the hallway, moving into position to confront their men, ready to fight for their freedom. As for Jack, he fell back slightly, scanning the putrid tunnel for a hiding place, then thrust Stephen into it. 'Stay here and stay out of sight,' he said to the small and unarmed man. 'We'll do all we can to protect you.' Stephen nodded mutely, and then Jack turned and, with a yell that could freeze blood, charged after the rest, finding himself quickly eye-to-eye with a guard bearing a cudgel.

How long could a fight last, cramped up like this is a claustrophobic burrow? And yet time and again, as soon as Forest or Seth or James or Jack managed to vanquish one of the foe, another would spring in to keep the battle going. The demon guard seemed to have an endless supply of minions to throw at them, while he himself, they noted, hung back, not engaging any of the small and intrepid band.

Mac fought valiantly alongside his companions, calling out encouragement to them every time anyone's spirits flagged - calling also attention to any attempts by the guards to outflank the little group, or to overwhelm them. Again and again they rallied. Again and again fresh guards poured in at them, but they repulsed them all.

And what of Stephen? Peering out from his hiding place, he witnessed his third battle he had seen this day. How he wished he had a sword as well and the skills to use it, instead of having to cower in the shadows like this! And yet - he knew in his heart that he was also glad to be able to hang back here, not having to risk his own neck like the rest were doing. Did that make him a coward? Maybe, he admitted. He hoped not, but - maybe.

Stephen sank down on his haunches in that little nook among the garbage, trying hard not to let any of the muck actually get on him, still thinking. He didn't like the idea of being a coward, but what could he do? He had no weapon...

Wait - suppose he were to rush out there and grab up a weapon dropped by one of the fallen guards? Now, that was a thought! He wouldn't know how to wield a whip anymore than he did a sword, but what could be hard about using a cudgel? It was just a knobbed club; all he'd have to do is swing it, hit people, and be sure to duck.

Yeah, he could do that! After all, it wasn't like he'd have to duck a sword; the guards his buddies were fighting were only carrying whips and clubs. Only the demon over there on the other side was bearing a sword, and he hadn't actually gotten into the fight yet. As long as he could avoid him, Stephen reasoned, he should be fine.

All right then, he decided, bracing himself to spring out there - on three...

One...

Two...

Mrph!

~~~~~~~

From out of nowhere, a hand had slammed over his mouth while an arm snatched him, not to his feet, but completely into the air. A moment later he was tucked under a massive arm against a foul-smelling side, and he was being transported away, away.

Stephen squirmed to see what was happening. And received a cuff on his head for his efforts. 'Keep still, you!' he heard through the spangle of stars that flooded his vision for a few seconds. Once the stars cleared off again, he made a second, less obvious attempt to look around. And now he saw...

He was being carried rapidly away from his companions, who were still busy fighting the guards. None of them seemed to have noticed he'd been kidnapped, and with this noxious hairy mitt still clamped over his mouth, he couldn't cry out for help.

Now he looked up to see who it was who had snatched him and was bearing him off like he was a sack of potatoes. He caught a glimpse of that face, its lips curled into a cruel chuckle, its skin covered with a crisp, golden-fried coating. And he nearly fainted.

The demon!

The demon? But how? He had been behind his men, directing the fight from the other end of the passage. How could he have gotten over here to spirit Stephen away without anyone seeing?

Again Stephen glanced back at his companions. And again he saw that they were still fighting, with no sign that any of them had yet missed him. What, he wondered, was he going to do?

And now the demon's chuckles grew audible. 'Not without Stephen, that one fool said! Well, we'll see now if he meant it. Now that I've got his precious Stephen.' The demon glanced down at his captive and shook him gleefully. 'Either they mean it and they'll come after you - in which case I'll have them. Or they don't come after and leave you behind,' he grinned ferociously, 'in which case, I'll have you!'

For supper? Stephen couldn't help thinking, as a cold sweat broke out all over him. At least the demon didn't have his magic size-changing blade out - for the moment.

The demon jogged on, and Stephen realized where they must be going. They were heading back towards the door that led to the smaller stairway. And once the demon reached that and took him back through that door - why, there was no telling where he would wind up then! Mustn't go out that door! Stephen thought determinedly. But how to stop the demon? Oh, my Master! he prayed. What do I do?

And then a thought hit his brain and he acted on it immediately. Reaching up, he dug his fingers into some of that golden-brown crust on the demon's cheek. And he pulled.

A shriek like a thousand wildcats filled the corridor as Stephen hit the floor. Stunned, he tried to get his bearings, to get away, to get back to his friends. He crawled, trying to get up.

A foot slammed into his side, crumpling him. The next second a boot stomped down hard on his knee, immobilizing him. A flurry of curses swarmed around him as the demon loomed above. 'Maggot!' the demon said at the last, the strip of skin dangling from his cheek under crazed red eyes. 'I'll deal with you now!' And he drew his weapon.

The dagger blade glinted an unholy light as, once again before Stephen's horrified eyes, the weapon shifted and changed, becoming obscenely huge and cruel. It was poised over the hapless captive, ready to come slicing down and end his life. And a very small voice said, 'Oh no, not again!'

Huh?

Stephen blinked. He hadn't said that - so who had? Focusing his eyes beyond the wicked blade, he saw that the demon was no longer looking down at his prisoner, but up the corridor beyond him. And he read there in the demon's face terror!

Stephen, unable to turn over with that foot pinning his knee down, brought his chin upwards to look at whatever was behind him. And again he blinked. Surely this upside-down perspective was causing him to see things? For it certainly looked to him as if great white wings were coming this way, with a sword outstretched before them!

'No!' screamed the demon. Recovering his wits, he raised high his weapon. Whether he intended to use it to defend himself, or intended instead to plunge it into Stephen to kill him - all that immediately became moot. For even as Stephen on the floor hid his face in his arms, the great white wings came upon the demon - the sword flashed once - and for the third time this day, the demon's head went spinning from his shoulders and away to parts unknown.

The crushing weight on Stephen's knee vanished as the demon's body wilted, tumbling over to rise no more. Arms surrounded Stephen - gentle arms this time, and they raised him to his feet. A canteen was uncorked and pressed to Stephen's lips. 'Drink.'

He drank, and felt his fears wash away as relief flooded in. He looked up.

'Mac!' he grinned. 'Oh, I am so glad to see you! You know, for a minute there, I thought I was going nuts. You wouldn't believe what I thought I saw coming to kill the demon!'

Mac only smiled and said, 'Come. Let us be going.'

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 3, chapter 28 - 'hot pursuit'

2006-04-28T14:16:00.000-05:00

'Oh, man - wait!' said Stephen. He shoved his way back through the stairway door and ran back up the corridor, past the dozen or so unconscious guards.

'Stephen, what are you doing?' Jack hissed after him. He and Walker hesitated in the stairway door, wondering if their unarmed companion might not be running himself back into danger.

'I nearly forgot,' Stephen called back, 'but I dropped my - here it is.' He bent and scooped something up off the floor, then raced back to his friends. 'My key,' he said, showing it to them briefly before stowing it safely in his pocket. 'Ok, I'm ready now.'

Jack had been all set to chew the little guy out for turning back. But now that he saw why - yeah. Their keys were their assurance of getting out of this fortress, so he couldn't fault Stephen for going back after his. 'Right,' said Jack. 'Let's go then.'

They took off down the stairs. It had been a long way coming up, and now it was going to be a long way going back down as well. Shortly, somewhere far, far below them, they heard what might have been the sound of a door opening and the patter of running feet. Perhaps. They couldn't be sure. Morgen was certainly down there somewhere. But the sound - if it was a sound - was not likely to be him; both Jack and Stephen were convinced that no one would hear Morgen's footfalls unless he really wanted them to.

They descended. Walker was fairly confident that he knew which level they had started out from, and he was busy keeping track of how many doors they passed as they hurried down the stairs. They were making good time, he told the others...

And then they definitely heard a door being flung open and a storm of feet invading the stairway.

Below them. Instantly they all halted.

'What's that?'

'Gotta be the guards. They're searching for us now.'

'What are we going to do?'

'What else can we do? We have to keep going.'

'With the guards between us and the way out?'

'Well, just because that's where they are now, doesn't mean they'll still be in our way by the time we get down to the ground level. I mean, if they're looking for all the teams, most of the places they'll be looking are below ground, right?'

'Ok, that's a good point. So we just keep going?'

'For now, yeah. And, uh, stay on alert.'

'I hear that!'

And on they went.

With the thunder of footsteps from below them echoing and re-echoing all around them, it was nearly impossible to hear even the sounds their own feet were making. And yet as they continued their descent, Jack suddenly stopped dead once again, frowning up at the stairs above them.

'What's wrong?' asked Walker.

'Did you hear something?' Jack responded.

'I can barely hear you,' said Walker. Then, 'What do you think you hear?'

'I think I heard a door opening somewhere up there. And I think I hear lots of feet coming our way.'

'You serious?' said Walker. He listened too for most of a minute, then shook his head. 'Well, all I can hear for sure is all that noise below us. But if you think someone's above us as well, then let's get off these stairs.'

'And go where?' said Stephen as Walker set out charging down the stairs again to find the nearest door.

'Oh, I know a few ins and outs around here,' Walker called back.

It was few landings on before they spied a door. Pausing just long enough to give a listen at it - but they weren't able to tell from listening if there was anyone on the other side or not - they sent up a prayer to the Master and spilled through the door, yanking it shut again behind them as soon as all three of them were through. Then they looked around and saw...

Corridors, as usual. And for the moment at least, empty ones.

'C'mon,' said Walker.

'C'mon where?' asked Stephen, still not at all sure they should be leaving the stairs.

'I know another way out of here,' said Walker. 'Trust me.' And cautiously he led them off, up one corridor and down the next, moving quietly, hoping not to meet with anyone. Another corridor, and then still another...

'Yeah, this is where I thought we were. Ok, we're almost to the back stairway of the place. It's not much farther up here, but to get to it might be a touch hairy, since we'll have to go through...'

Bam! The sound of a door being thrown open froze them all in their tracks. What door though, and where?

And then a burly voice called out, 'Yep, they went this way. C'mon, men! I can smell 'em from here.'

Not good!

~~~~~~~

Walker grabbed both Jack and Stephen and scrambled. 'Go! go!' he hissed. Not that they needed a whole lot of encouragement to run for their lives. 'Which way?' said Stephen as they came up on a new junction.

'Here!' said Walker. Sprinting ahead, he was digging in his pocket as they ran. 'There. The double doors. Have to unlock them.' And as they reached the doors, Walker succeeded in dragging his key at last from his pocket. Like Stephen before him, he fumbled the key a bit in his haste. But then he had the doors open. 'Ok, go!'

They tumbled in without first taking a look around. 'What is this, the spindly forest?' Jack asked as soon as he remembered to see where they were. And what he saw was a large room filled with dozens of long tables, each table bristling with scores of chairs upended and perched all along its long sides. No people, which was a relief. Turning to Walker, he asked again, 'Where'd you bring us?'

'What's in your pack there?' Walker replied. 'You got some rope?'

'Rope? Yeah,' said Jack. He rummaged in the pack briefly and produced a length. 'You gonna answer my questions?' he added.

Swiftly Walker wrapped the rope round the handles of the double doors, then tied it as securely as he knew how. 'We're in the guards' mess, of course,' he said. 'There. If those guys come this way, this ought to slow them down a mite.' Nodding at a second pair of double doors at the far end of the room, he said, 'The stairs are over there, beyond the kitchen.'

'You mean,' said Stephen, 'you led us into a room that might have been full of guards?'

'You had a better plan?' Walker snapped. And immediately apologized. 'Anyway,' he added, 'it's not a meal time, so no one's here.'

'Not out here, no,' said Jack. 'But what about in the kitchen? Won't there be cooks?'

'Yeah, maybe,' Walker admitted, taking the lead as they set out across the mess. 'But I think we ought to be able to handle a couple of... Uh-oh.'

It was an uh-oh they could definitely have done without. For the double doors they had just entered through, the ones Walker had use the rope to tie shut - those doors were suddenly shaking. Quaking. Breaking!

'Jack! Grab the other end!' called Walker. He laid hands on the closest table and, with Jack's help, flipped it onto its side, sending the chairs that had been stacked on it scattering wildly. 'C'mon, more,' Walker added. And he and Jack sent several more tables over onto their sides, doing their best to make an instant barricade.

'Ok,' said Jack, 'one more.' And as he and Walker flipped another table, Jack noticed that Stephen was just standing there between the barricade and the kitchen doors. 'Run for it, Stephen!' Jack called.

And that was when the rope failed and, with a loud crash, the doors burst open.

And in walked someone who was all too familiar.

~~~~~~~

It was the guard from upstairs, the one who had come so close to slitting Walker's throat. The demon guard whom Morgen had temporarily killed. Sneering, strutting, he pointed at the trio nearing the far end of the room. 'There they are, men. After 'em!'

About a dozen men poured into the mess behind him. They fanned out, running along the aisles between the long tables, reaching the makeshift barricades all too quickly. Grabbing the obstructing chairs, they began clearing them out of their way - by pitching them over the tables at their quarry!

'Go! Run!' cried Walker. He flung up his arms to ward off a chair. Jack, trying to do the same, was half a second too late and took a gash cross his forehead from a chair leg. Shaking his head as blood gushed into his left eye, he did his best not to faint. Stephen and Walker were already sprinting for the kitchen doors, and Jack pressed a hand to his wound and followed.

The pursuing guards were starting to clamber over the barricades now. A grim bunch they were, with cold, dead eyes. Stephen, running well ahead of his two companions, stole a glance backwards at the enemy just as he was coming up on the kitchen doors. And that backwards glance turned out to be far from the best idea he'd had all day. For just as he reached this set of double doors...

Whap! One of the doors reached out and hit him first.

Down went Stephen.

From the opening door came a voice growling, 'What the...?' A grimy-aproned cook appeared in the doorway, shocked speechless by all the mess out there in the mess. Seconds later, the man was completely bowled over as well, for Walker barreled right into him. Down went the cook, landing smack in the doorway.

'Sorry!' called Walker. Skidding to a halt within the kitchen, he quickly doubled back and grabbed Stephen, hauling him to his feet. And then the pair of them vanished into the kitchen.

Jack was wobbling after them as fast as the pain in his head would let him go. He really did not want to know how close behind him his following was, so instead of looking back, he kept his eyes only on the open door ahead of him. The guards were right behind him, he knew, just about breathing down his neck. Pouring on all the speed he could find, he vaulted over the inert cook in the doorway, then grabbed the man and drug him inside.

And the doors swung shut. Good, that's what he wanted. Knowing that he was out of rope now - not that he had time to hunt through his pack to find rope anyway - he glanced around quickly and snatched up the first thing he saw, a handful of spatulas. These he jammed through the side-by-side handles of the double doors. Kitchen doors, he knew, generally would swing both ways. Maybe the spatulas would keep them from opening in either direction.

At least, temporarily. The bash of heavy bodies against the other side of the doors told him that his pursuers had caught him up. He had no time to secure the doors any better than he already had, and precious little time to find a hiding place. In fact, he hid in the first place he saw. He dove for cover under a nearby worktable.

The door was shaking like it was going to be battered to pieces. And one by one, sure enough, the spatulas began to fall out.

'What the blue blazes is going on over here? Chollie, you drunk or something?' barked a new voice. From the far end of the kitchen came another man in a grimy apron. As he drew near the worktable, his steps faltered. 'Man, Chollie! What happened to you?' the newcomer cried.

Groaning, the cook that Jack had pulled into the kitchen sat up and started to say something. But at that same moment the last of the spatulas fell out and the door sprang open. And the guards, in their haste to invade the kitchen and seek out their prey - trampled all over poor Chollie.

He never had a chance.

'Hey!' yelled the new cook. Horrified, he let loose a blistering barrage of invectives against the brawny intruders. Until one of the guards swung his club and bludgeoned the man in the head. Down the second cook fell like a sack of potatoes, his own blood puddling around him.

Jack huddled under the worktable, doing his best to be small and unnoticeable. His best wasn't good enough though, for abruptly the worktable went spinning from over his head. And as it flew, it pasted him right in the same spot over his eye where the chair leg had hit him. Ohhh...

As the gruff voice of the demon guard said, 'There's one, boys. Get 'im.'

~~~~~~~

But there was another voice as well, nearly as gruff, coming up from the far end of the kitchen. 'Max, what the' curse 'are you and Chollie doing over there? Tearing down my kitchen? I oughta...' The voice stopped, then rumbled out, 'Who the' curse 'are you lot, and what'd you do to Max? And Chollie? They're...'

'What we did to them, we'll do the same to you, punk, so get out of our way!' the demon guard threatened.

'The' curse 'you will!' growled the latest cook. He was the biggest cook yet, and by far the angriest. Eyes ablaze, he reached over to the rack of dozens of knives hanging on the wall, snatching a mighty meat cleaver. A second later one of the many guards was wearing that meat cleaver as a decoration in his chest. Gently he sank to the floor and lay still.

'Fool!' snarled the demon guard. 'All right, boys, after him!' And what remained of his dozen men flowed round him to confront the mad cook.

Swiftly the cook seized another knife from his handy arsenal and threw it with the same deadly accuracy as the first. A third rapidly followed. And yet the guards kept coming. Hesitating for a moment, the cook changed tactics. Instead of reaching for more knives, he stretched up a hand to the rack over his head where all kinds of kitchen utensils were hanging, and he took down...

A pot.

'A pot?' mocked one of the guards pressing close on him. 'You expect to do any kind of damage against us using a pot?'

'Just watch,' the cook whispered. Turning towards a huge vat full of bubbling amber liquid, he plunged the pot into it and, before any of the guards had enough time to realize what he was doing, he took that potful of boiling liquid and flung it at the guards.

Screams and curses filled the air as the oil from the deep fryer spattered all over the advancing guards, sizzled their skin. Shrieking, they dropped their weapons to claw helplessly at the hot liquid, trying to get it off, get it off! And even as they danced and howled in pain, a second potful showered over them, and then a third.

That was enough. Slipping, sliding, skidding, falling, the remnant of the dozen men turned tail and vacated the kitchen as fast as the slick oil now coating the floor would let them.

Leaving only the demon guard still confronting the cook. With a new potful at the ready, the cook said, 'You get out too!'

With a dismissive snort, the demon guard ignored the threat. Bending down, with a mighty jerk he wrenched free the meat cleaver that had brought down the first of his men, and then launched it at the cook.

The pot of oil went flying as the cleaver found its mark. And a third dead cook lay stretched on the floor.

~~~~~~~

Hmph. His men were all gone now. No matter. He wouldn't need them anyway. He would simply find Walker and his rescuers by himself. Two fools and a wimp; how hard could that be?

Glancing first at the overturned worktable, he saw that the fool who had been cowering there had vanished. No doubt he had taken advantage of the distraction of the last cook to find better cover to cringe under. Hmm...

Slowly, watchfully, the demon guard stalked through the kitchen. Down at the far end, the place the last two cooks had come from, he saw another way out. Had his quarry already fled? But no, how could they have? If they had tried to get past the cooks, then those cooks would have been hollering about the fugitives, instead of interfering with this search.

No, they were still here. And he would find them.

There had been four of them upstairs, but he had seen only three taking refuge here in the kitchen. All the better. The fourth, he knew, had been a presence, and he did not sense that presence here. He smiled. With their protector gone, picking off the remaining three would be a piece of cake.

And here was their most likely hiding place: a row of five doors. Storage rooms, he guessed. Stepping up to the first room, he laid his hand on the handle and wrenched the door open.

Ha!

Hmm.

Empty. Oh, there were a large number of bushel baskets filled with fruits and vegetables in here, and many strings of onions and peppers and such hanging from the ceiling. But nowhere was there enough room for a man to hide in here - no, not even that shrimpy little one who carried no weapon. Not here.

He closed this door and moved on to the next.

Ha!

Ah, this was more like it! Meat. Poultry hanging up by its feet, pigs hanging by their trotters. And whole sides of beef hanging up as well. This room showed great promise. There were dozens of places in it where a man could hide.

Smiling, he closed the door again. Crossing to the arsenal of kitchen knives, he chose a sturdy paring knife, then returned and rammed it into the door jamb, effectively locking the door to the meat room. There. If they were in there, they would stay in there for as long as he liked, while he went on searching the rest of the kitchen. After all, if he were to enter the room now, before screening the rest of the storage rooms, before making sure that they weren't in some other place here - why, they might well take advantage of him being inside the meat room to try to slip away from wherever else they were hidden. Worse, they might even scrape together enough brains between the three of them to think of taking a knife as he had done and locking him up in the meat room!

Oh no. That would never do. No way would Walker and his loser friends get the better of him!

Smiling, congratulating himself on his cleverness, he moved on to the next door, grasped the handle, and...

Ha!

Frown. What sort of stuff were they storing here? Huge white sacks stacked up in great piles, but sacks of what - beans? flour? No matter; the sacks added up to lots of hiding places here as well, so he would get another knife and...

Paf!

Suddenly he found himself on the floor, white filling all his vision. What the...? He reached for his eyes, wondering that he could not see - and pulled one of the great white sacks off his face. More white spilled out of the sack, pouring out of it, puffing out of it. A huge mound of white filled his lap, while a cloud of white filled the air around him, and began to fill his breathing as well. He choked on it, sputtering, spitting out white.

Flour.

Through the mist of white settling round him, he caught a glimpse of a moving shadow. Two shadows. Growling with rage, he tried to stand.

'Jack! Let's go!' he heard.

And then he heard another sound, the sound of wood clattering against wood. What was...?

And then he was under attack by dozens of spears!

Except...

If it was spears, why was someone dropping them longways onto his head, instead of jabbing him with them?

Floop! And now a smelly, still-damp bundle of shaggy old ropes swatted him in the mouth. Bleah!

And then the mist of white cleared enough for him to see what was really happening. These were not the spears of a warrior! These were a motley assortment of brooms and mops. Someone...

Yes, now he saw. Apparently Walker and the shrimpy one had been hiding together in the room of white sacks, while the third had taken cover among the kitchen cleaning supplies. And they all had insulted his honor by throwing flour and brooms at him.

Furious, he boiled up from under that pile of ignoble toothpicks - and by the time he had finished venting his rage on the mops and brooms, mere toothpicks was all that was left of them.

The men! They were getting away!

Snarling like a wild animal, the guard stormed through the kitchen, slipping a little in the puddles of oil, heading straight for the stairway door. He would follow Walker and his friends to the very fires of Hell if he had to!

But no, here they were - two of them at least. Walker was standing in the open door to the stairs, with the other one who bore a weapon close by. The third though - where was he?

And Walker was asking the very same question: 'Where's Stephen?'

'I thought he was with you!'

'Look, the bad guy's coming. We gotta get out of here.'

'Not without Stephen!'

Stupid loyalty, the demon guard smirked as he bore down on them. First he would dispatch these two, then he would find and kill the third at his leisure.

Walker had his sword out now, and the other was drawing his. 'Back off!' one of them said.

The demon halted before them. Smiling, he looked back and forth between the two, then drew his own weapon. A dagger. Yes, the very same one he had wielded upstairs when he had tried to slit Walker's throat.

'Fool!' he sneered at Walker. 'I had you squealing like a baby earlier, and I'll do it again too - and then I'll hew you limb from limb!'

'I don't think so,' Walker answered bravely. 'I wasn't armed then.'

'You think your puny weap...!' the demon guard gloated. But even as he was menacing them, he caught the subtle shift in both men's eyes. They weren't looking at him anymore, but beyond him, at something behind his back.

What the...?

Pong!

~~~~~~~

His empty hand sprang to the point of impact on the back of his head as he whirled, enraged. Oh, here was the shrimpy one! Standing behind him, a cast-iron frying pan held in both hands, a look of triumph quickly dying in his eyes as he realized that a conk on the head wasn't going to be quite enough to fell this guard. Oh, how he loved to see fear take over someone's eyes!

Leering, the demon showed the little man his dagger. 'You see this? I'm going to use this to cut that iron thing in your hands into three pieces. And then I'm going to use it to cleave you.'

Stephen swallowed. 'It's, um, a mighty small weapon,' he ventured.

'Is it?' And before Stephen's eyes, to the little shrimp's horror, the dagger grew. Changed. Unfolded. Expanded. Became a great scimitar. An evil sword, curved, with a row of glittering barbs all along its leading edge, like the teeth on a saw. A sword to rip with. Yes, a destroying weapon.

A sword Forest would have recognized, if he had been there just then.

'Eep,' said Stephen.

The demon began to laugh.

But he had forgotten something. Oh yes he had! He had forgotten that there were two men standing behind him with swords in their hands. So when he roared out at Stephen, 'I'm going to kill you, little man!' Walker responded with, 'I don't think so.'

And he swung Morgen's blade.

Which struck true.

And for the second time in the past hour or so, the demon's head went flying from his shoulders. It made a beautiful arc through the kitchen, bounced once off a canopy above a stove, a second time off the wall of knives, and landed at last with a massive amount of sizzling - plop in the deep-frying vat.

His headless body slowly toppled over and hit the floor.

'Maybe that'll keep him dead a bit longer this time,' quipped Jack. 'You all right, Stephen?'

Wordlessly, the little man nodded.

'Then let's go.' And the three of them hit the stairs running.

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 3, chapter 27 - 'out of the depths'

2006-04-21T10:07:00.000-05:00

'Come,' said Mac. He led them off behind the platform and away across the town.

For it was in fact a town. Unlike all the other levels they had searched - all those levels of long corridors of cells - this place had the feel of vast open spaces broken up by frequent clusters of huts or small houses. Not that they could see the open spaces; what little light there was seemed to be coming only from the bonfire dwindling behind them. But there was a lack of echoes here, and the sense of sound carrying a long way all about them. It felt strange after the closeness of the other levels.

They met with few people in their brief journey through the dark town - and those that they did meet generally took one good look at them, blanched in recognition, then scattered.

After the fourth such encounter, Seth gave a chuckle. 'Guess we made a bit of an impression on 'em, eh?'

'We?' Forest responded.

Huh? What was that supposed to... Oh. Seth felt his face start to burn with embarrassment. Of course the kid was right; it had nothing to do with them. It was what the Master had done, appearing in the fire like that and setting the three of them free - that was what had scared the snot out of these people. 'Aw, man! I'm sorr...' Seth muttered.

Mac stopped suddenly. 'Quiet!' he whispered urgently, then fell silent. The others froze as well, listening. What had Mac noticed?

There. Voices just ahead of them. And as the four continued to listen, Forest whispered, 'There's a wall there too. A big one.'

Baffled, Seth started to ask, 'How...?'

'There's an echo now,' the boy replied before Seth could ask. Then, 'Hide!'

Swiftly they did as they were told, taking cover by the nearest hut. And from there they listened.

'...abandon this post, and the chief priest'll fricassee the pair of you!' said a first voice heatedly.

'And I'm telling you, there's something going on over there!' a second voice declared.

'Aye,' chimed in a third. 'They ain't never made up that bonfire so bright as all that, not in all the time we been down here.'

'And the screaming,' challenged the second again. 'What's up with all that, eh? I mean, what'd he do, toss the whole lot of the People into the fire? There's something up, and I aim to go find out what!'

'Aye,' the third was agreeing, when the first drowned them both out with, 'Whatever's going on, this here is our post, and this here is where the pair of you is staying.'

Now the four companions risked a peek at the scene between the guards. There, by the wall Forest had sensed, they saw one guard bristling with anger as he stabbed his finger belligerently at a closed door in the wall, while before him stood two more guards, both glowering rebelliously and shifting their eyes again and again towards the distant glow of fire.

'Supposing he did toss a bunch of 'em into the fire. He's mad enough,' mumbled one of the two rebels.

'Forgetting whose side you're on, are you? He can burn 'em, beat 'em, kill 'em, whatever he wants. The People ain't nothing but prisoners. Malorn's in charge.'

'No, Malorn is dead.'

Startled out of their argument, the three guards turned to find themselves facing a strange quartet. Two of them were armed with swords held en garde, the third looked like a hairy ape with his hamlike fists at the ready, while the rather scrawny fourth guy stood somewhat behind the first three. Quickly drawing their own whips and clubs, one of the guards growled out, 'Who are you?' While the main guard, the one who had been berating the others, said officiously, 'All right, none of that now. Lay down your weapons and nobody gets hurt.'

'No.'

It was the scrawny guy in the back who said that. The chief guard smirked. He had a lot of lip, that guy, for someone who hadn't even drawn a weapon. Relying on the guys in front of him to fight this battle for him, no doubt. Fair enough. 'Right then. Well, if it's a fight you want, then...'

'What you mean, Malorn's dead?' one of the other guards interrupted.

If looks could kill, that mouthy subordinate would have been in serious trouble just then. The chief guard turned a glare his way, then turned back to the ridiculous little band of warriors confronting them. 'Lay down your weapons now,' he ordered, 'before me and my men here hafta take 'em from... you...'

And suddenly the guard stopped talking. Oh, his jaw was still flapping up and down. But only squeaking gibberish came out now. And he stared - oh, how he stared!

For that scrawny little guy in the back - the one who hadn't even bothered to draw a weapon - suddenly, he wasn't so scrawny anymore. He was huge and bright and shining, with wings unfurled and too many faces, too many eyes...

'Gahhh!' With a shriek of madness, the chief guard hit the floor face down, shaking like he might shake himself right to pieces. His two companions fell straight down as well, moaning in terror before the faces of the angel.

What? Forest and James glanced at each other, wondering what had gotten into the guards. And, 'What's with them?' Seth asked. Turning round, he asked the question a second time to plain little Maccabees standing meekly behind them.

Mac merely smiled. 'Let us go forth,' he said, as he stretched out his hand and opened the door that was no longer being guarded. 'And quickly.'

~~~~~~~

Mac didn't have to say that twice. They were all more than ready to leave that level far behind them. Beyond the door lay the stairs, and Forest set out leading the way up them, taking them two at a time. And Seth was not far behind the kid. James, however...

Mac took the man's arm, supporting him. 'You need strength yet.'

James nodded, already beginning to feel winded before they reached the first landing. 'Yeah. That beating I took is still getting to me, I'm afraid.'

'Fear not,' Mac counseled. Pausing long enough to unsling his canteen, he passed it to James. 'Drink.'

'I've got my own right here, you know,' the man objected. 'You don't have to...'

'James. Drink.' Mac's voice was gentle, but there was command in his eyes.

'All right.' James accepted the canteen, opened it, and took a polite taste. And then, like a man who'd been dying of thirst in a desert, he found himself upending the canteen, drinking, drinking, drinking. Excess water was splashing over his face, but he didn't care. Oh, but this was good water! Now, he knew it was the same as the water he carried, drawn from the same stream at the same time just minutes before they had entered the fortress. And yet Mac's water was so much more, well, refreshing than his own. Delightful water. Invigorating.

He had to gasp for air at the end, and grinned sheepishly at Mac as he returned the canteen. 'I think I used it all,' he apologized.

'Not nearly,' Mac smiled back, giving the container a shake. And sure enough, it sounded nearly full again. How could that be?

'Ready?'

James drew a large breath and nearly laughed out loud. He hadn't felt this good in - how long? Since before their capture in the valley, certainly. 'Stairs, nothing,' he told Mac. 'I think I could tackle a mountain now!'

'Good.' Turning his face up the stairway before them, Mac led out again.

A few landings later they caught up with Forest and Seth. It wasn't hard, for the pair had stopped to wait for them. And Forest immediately jumped in with, 'Mac, what did you do?'

'I have done something?' Maccabees replied.

'These ain't the same stairs,' said Seth.

'Yeah. You didn't lead us back to the door we came in by. You led us out a different way.'

'Is there a problem with that?'

Forest and Seth glanced at each other. 'Well... maybe, maybe not,' said the kid. 'It's just... we've never been this way before.'

'Where are we, even?' Seth added.

'Come,' said Mac and continued climbing, while the other three fell into line behind him. 'You recall, James, that Stone indicated more than one staircase in this dungeon?'

Remembrance dawned on the man's face. 'In the cave, when we were constructing the map of this place. Yes.'

'The staircase we had been using empties out, as you know, close to the back door of the fortress.' Mac glanced at the others. 'That door has been used many times this day by most of your companions in their escapes. And the guards have now sealed it.'

'So most of them have gotten out already?' Forest was asking, eyes glowing. At the same moment as Seth asked, 'But how do you know all that?' And James, at even the same second, said, 'Then we need another way out.'

'Yes,' said Mac, and he pointed up the stairs. 'The main entrance as well is heavily guarded now. But as Walker pointed out, there are three exits from this place.'

'Three...' Forest muttered, rebuilding in his mind's eye the map in the dust on the cave's floor.

As Seth asked again, 'How's he know all that?'

'The south exit!' said James.

'Yes. This way does not lead directly to it, but will take us much closer to it than the other stairs would have. And we will have company.'

'Company?' said Forest, his hand dropping to his sword's hilt. 'You mean guards? Bring 'em on! We haven't had a decent battle against guards yet!'

Gotta love that kid, thought Seth, his own fists already curling in readiness.

'That is not exactly what I was referring to, young Forest. But I think you will have fighting to your fill soon enough. Come.'

They pressed on. Gradually Seth realized that no one had ever answered his question. But just as he started to ask again, Forest suddenly said, 'What was that smell anyway? And how come we never smelled it before?'

'That's a good question,' James agreed. 'We'd been up and down those stairs, um...' A bit of rapid counting, and he finished with, 'Yeah, that was our seventh time going near that door. Yet we never smelled anything till today.'

'You had no need until today,' Mac answered. 'And what you smelled was,' and he turned now to face them all. 'The stench of pure evil.'

~~~~~~~

They shuddered. And even here inside the stairwell, they had a sense of a cloud passing in front of the sun. 'I don't ever wanna go back there again,' muttered Seth.

'Funny thing,' added Forest as they started on climbing again. 'That Malorn - he acted like he'd never seen us before in his life!'

'What do you mean?' replied Seth. 'He recognized me right off.'

'Well, yeah, you. But remember, Seth? When you first met us, you said that James looked like ol' Melonhead had worked him over. And Malorn sure looked familiar to me, from the guys that captured us in the valley. Right, James?'

'He was the one,' James nodded. 'I'll never forget him.'

'And yet he seemed to have forgotten us,' said the boy. 'He never called you by name, James, but I know he beat that much information out of you that day. And he sure should have known my name - but all he called me just now was, Son.'

'Hush!' Mac commanded abruptly. And a second later they all knew why. For the stairs above them were echoing suddenly with the clatter of feet.

'Guards!' hissed Forest and began to draw his weapon. Only to have Mac, surprisingly, reach across and stay his hand.

If it was guards, James thought, listening, why so few? That couldn't have been more than three pairs of feet charging their way. Would there be only three guards coming down the stairs? And yet, if it wasn't guards...

Who could it be?

And then they heard a voice hiss, 'No, not there! This way!' And now the running feet were nearly on top of them. Forest pushed against Mac, struggling to get his sword free, only to find that pushing against Maccabees was like pushing against one of these stone walls.

And then the feet appeared round the stairs just above them. Three pairs, just as James had thought. The one in the lead skidded to a halt as he saw the four men waiting here, with the other two smacking right into his back. A stunned moment of tense silence...

And then Seth began to laugh.

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 3, chapter 26 - 'fourth in the fire'

2006-04-14T01:31:00.000-05:00

The first thing Seth became aware of was the galloping headache pounding through his brain. The second was the taste of metal puddled in his mouth. And rushing on the heels of those two came the overload of other pains of all shapes and sizes, all competing for his attention.

Ohhh... He felt like he'd been trampled underfoot by a herd of, of... of wild... oh... somethings. Ugh, but his brain was too fogged to come up with the word he wanted! Musta been bad, whatever happened to him, but he sure couldn't remember what. Groaning, he start to sit up.

And that's when he found out he couldn't. But not because of the pains all over his body. That wasn't what was keeping him down.

No, he was tied up head to foot.

Huh? Tied up? How had this happened?

Wait...

And now memory started to kick in. Kick, yeah. Hadn't someone been kicking him? Or no - not kicking, not a foot, but... but a stick maybe? Yeah! Now he remembered. The trip downstairs. The stench in the stairway. The unholy glow of the bonfire, and those terrible screams...

His eyes shot open then. Melonhead!

Snapping shadows mixed with dancing red met his sight, all of it surrounded by dark, dark, dark. He could see no one from where he was lying on his bruised right side. He couldn't see the fire anymore either, but could tell from the heat that it was not far away behind him. Where were James and Forest, he wondered, and where were the guards that had captured them?

Not to mention Malorn. A ton of anger hit him every time he thought of ol' Melonhead, and without even thinking of it, he started to strain at his bonds.

'Easy there,' a voice whispered faintly from directly behind him. 'Just lie still, Seth. Don't draw attention to yourself.'

And a second voice, a little further away than the first, added, 'Thank God you're not dead.'

Ah. The first voice was Forest's, and the second James'. From the sound of it, they were both on the floor the same as he was. They weren't dead at least, not if they were talking. He did his best to ignore the tiny voice inside his head that added, Yet.

'What's going on?' Seth asked, hoping he was keeping his voice low enough that only his two buddies would hear him.

'Eh, they're just getting ready,' Forest replied off-handedly.

'Ready for what?'

'They've been...' James started to answer, but his words were abruptly drowned out by an onslaught of crackling accompanied by loud cheers and jeers. And at the same moment, the dull red light around them suddenly leapt up brighter and stronger.

'...doing that,' James finished when the sounds died off enough for him to be heard again.

Dread clutched at Seth's heart suddenly. 'Doing what?' he asked.

For a moment, neither of the others answered. And then Forest said, 'Just making the fire hotter. No big deal.'

'Forest...' said James.

'Well?' said the boy. 'If we die, we die. Serving the Master is what counts. It's a privilege to give our lives for the one who gave his life for us.'

'Wait. You're saying they're gonna kill us?' said Seth.

And even though he couldn't see him, somehow Seth knew that James was nodding. 'After they had beat you unconscious,' James told him, 'the leader there - Malorn - decreed that we would, uh, be the next sacrifice.'

'Yeah, they're just heating the fire up hotter for us first,' added Forest. 'Which is good, really. The hotter the fire, the quicker it'll be over with, so the quicker we'll be outta here and with the Master.'

Forest sure sounded strangely calm for a guy who was about to be burned to death! Feeling glad that the other guys couldn't see his face right now, Seth murmured, 'I don't wanna die.'

'Well,' said the kid, 'it's not my perfect ending to a perfect day either. But being home with the Master, that will be good.'

'I still can't believe you're just giving up, Forest,' said James. 'Not you.'

'I'm not giving up. I'm looking past it. If we gotta die, dying is not the end and we'll be home. Of course,' he added, and now he started to sound more like the Forest they were used to, 'if we get the chance to break free - man, I'm going for it!'

More fuel was thrown on the fire; they heard and saw the crackle and flare of it. Moments later, the platform they were lying on began shaking with the clump of heavy boots heading their way. And then thick legs surrounded them. Burly arms reached down to them. and they were hauled up like so many sacks of potatoes and dragged off. Across the platform they went, then back down the stairs again - with their heads bouncing off each step as before - and then at last they were pitched down onto the floor. Only now they were facing the fire.

It was a conflagration, an inferno. The smoke of it curled thickly through the air, choking them, gagging them. The intensity of the heat made their faces feel blistered already. Their eyes too began to sting and feel dried out. Seth didn't know about his buddies, but he was sure praying for all he was worth: C'mon, Master, you gotta get us outta here!

And now a deep and evil laugh swept over them. Malorn. With a flourish of his priestly robes, he came and stood over them, raising his staff, beckoning to the crowds surrounding the fire. And the crowd broke out with cheers and jeers again. Chuckling, Malorn looked down on his captives, gloating over them, his grin a mask of pure malice. 'Well, boys,' he said, his eyes glinting as red as the fire, 'You hear that? That's your public; they're waiting for you. They're waiting to see you give the performance of your life.'

'You mean of our death,' Forest spoke up.

Again the chuckle and the sadistic leer. 'Don't disappoint them,' Malorn purred. He signaled, and immediately the guards surrounded them again, hoisting them up by their ropes, swinging them back and then forward.

'One...!'

'Two...!'

'Thr...'

~~~~~~~

And Malorn held up his hand. The guards unceremoniously dumped them back onto the floor. 'Now,' Malorn said dramatically, 'let's do this right. Let's give them one last chance. You.' He pointed at James. 'You don't talk much. How about I make you an offer? Join us. We'll make you a guard. Hmm?'

James said nothing.

'No? Then what about you, Logan? You'd make an excellent guard. Think of all the blokes you could beat up, eh? I know you'd enjoy that,' he coaxed.

And for a second, Seth did think of it. He always had enjoyed beating guys up... until the Master came into his life and heart.

But now - no, he was a different man now. And besides, the image of ol' Melonhead's guards laughing as they had held him back while his brother was being killed came flooding into his head. Why would he want to be one of those?

'Malorn?' Seth said.

'Yes?' The man leaned closer.

Perfect. 'Here's my answer,' Seth said. And working up all the phlegm he could muster, he took aim and let it fly.

Even more perfect! The gooey glob of spittle caught ol' Melonhead right in the left eye. Fury blooming across his face, the priest lifted his staff to strike Seth once again.

'Wait!'

That was Forest. Malorn swung towards him, rage still convulsing his features, his staff still raised high. 'What?' he bellowed.

'You didn't ask me yet,' said the boy.

Malorn blinked, then lowered the staff and pasted on the big smile again. 'Indeed I didn't - son. Are you accepting my offer? You're a mite young yet, but I'm sure you'd make a fine guard.'

'You bet I would!' Forest replied.

What? Seth stared at the kid, dumbfounded. No! No way! Man, when Forest had said he would go for it if he saw a chance to get free - surely he didn't mean this!

'Oh, yeah,' the boy went on. 'The only problem is, you make me a guard, you'll have to have all the other guards guarding me. Cause as soon as you turn your back, I'll have the cell doors open and be leading as many people as I can get to follow me out of this dungeon and off to meet the Master!'

'You...!' And this time, when Malorn raised his staff, he struck.

Forest only laughed, even as blood gushed from his lip. 'We follow the Master, Malorn. There's nothing you can offer us that is better than being his. Death,' and he nodded his head at the fire before them, 'will only be a door we'll step through and be at his side. To be absent from this life is to be present with him forever. How can your puny world top that?'

'Throw them in!' Malorn bellowed.

The guards hastened to obey. And this time, there was no count of one, two, three. They grabbed up each man and gave a mighty heave.

Seth felt his stomach turn over as he was launched towards the flames. The heat came up and smacked him hard all over as he reached the top of the arc and tumbled into the bonfire. He couldn't even put out his hands to try to break his fall...

~~~~~~~

Whump!

For a stunned moment Seth lay there, all the wind knocked out of him. And then his lungs convulsed, sucking air in. No! he screamed inside, knowing that the fiery air would only sear his lungs.

Except...

Huh?

The air wasn't hot. It should have been, but wasn't.

And to his amazement, when he looked about wondering what had happened, he saw that the ropes that had held him bound were burning off him so quickly they might as well have been melting. And yet... nothing else on him was burning. Not his clothes, not his hair, not his skin.

He looked up. There was Forest, sitting up in the flames, laughing, lifting up his arms, scrambling to his feet. There too was James, also loosed from the ropes and standing up.

And there... Ah, Seth knew that face! There was yet one more man in the fire, smiling, laughing, singing.

Over the crackle of the flames, Seth heard the song. 'Fear not, for I have redeemed you! I have called you by your name. You are mine. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned. Neither shall the flame kindle upon you! For I am...'

Yes, he is! Seth thought gleefully. 'Master!' And now he too was on his feet, walking, leaping through the flames, running to the Master's side.

Dimly he became aware of another sound, a sound from beyond the circle of flame. He looked. So did James and Forest. All around the bonfire, all the people who had chanted and rejoiced at the burning of the other man, all the people who had cheered the building up of the fire for their burning - all those people were pointing into the fire, pointing at them. Their faces were contorted with screaming and with fear as they saw what was happening. No one was burning this time. No one was dying, and there was now a fourth man in the flames with them. And even their blinded eyes could see that this man had the look of...

'Nooooooo!'

Ah, that cry came from the area of the platform. Malorn had climbed up there again to enjoy the view, only to have his pleasure completely spoiled. 'No, no, no!' he was screaming. And then, even as he was howling and pitching a fit over things going absolutely wrong - the man fell down.

He fell down on the platform, twitching. Spasming.

And then all movement ceased entirely. He just lay there.

James turned to the Master. 'Is he all right?'

'No,' came the reply. 'He is dead.'

Dead? Seth could hardly believe it. His old enemy, dead? And the weird part was that, while he had imagined pretty often taking Melonhead's neck and squeezing it till the man was good and dead, and then laughing and dancing on the body - now that Malorn really was dead, there was no joy in it at all. Only regret, and he did not understand why.

'I have no pleasure,' said the Master, 'in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live.'

'Then why...' said Forest.

'Why is he dead?' the Master answered. 'He has reaped what he sowed. Death comes to all, soon or late, and generally sooner than men expect. This hour was Malorn's harvest of all that he had sown. Let men take it to heart.'

And then he led them out of the fire.

~~~~~~~

The guards had fled. The crowds had fled. There was only Malorn left, lying so still on the platform.

And one other. A figure appeared from behind the platform, holding in each hand something very long and thin. As he drew near them, he held out the long things, which turned out to be a pair of swords, each in its sheath.

Forest looked into the figure's face and beamed. 'Mac!'

'Who?' said Seth.

'One of ours,' said James. 'You haven't met him before, but he's with us. Mac, this is Seth. Seth, Maccabees.'

Mac nodded as both James and Forest took their swords and belted them on. And then to the Master, Mac bowed deeply.

'Escort them upstairs,' the Master told him, 'and give them all aid to escape. Malachi will meet them outside and take them to the cave. Once they are in his hands, I have yet work for you here in the dungeons. You will meet me with Walker.'

Mac bowed yet again.

To the rest, the Master said, 'I will come to you shortly. Tarry at the cave for me, but be ready to move out at my appearing.'

And he was gone.

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 3, chapter 25 - 'chaos in the court'

2006-04-07T10:52:00.000-05:00

All eyes in the courtroom were on Lucy as she leveled her sword at the seated judge. Rose in particular, her arms shackled before her, was so very pale and tense, hope mingled with apprehension on her weary face.

And then all the eyes that Lucy could see shifted to the door behind her, just as Linda murmured, 'Maybe not.'

Not good. Lucy started praying.

'Drop your sword,' demanded a gruff voice from behind her. No doubt a guard. The same one who had just thrust them into the courtroom? She wasn't sure.

Her sword never wavered.

'I said drop it!' the voice insisted.

'I think not,' Lucy replied.

A growl of rage erupted suddenly from behind Lucy, and at the same moment, Linda gave a gasp and began to cry out a warning, 'Lucy, watch ou...!' But it was the other sound that started at the very same time as well that concerned Lucy the most: a whistling sound. Not like a person whistling, but like something whistling through the...

Lucy jumped. Even before her brain had completely recognized the whistling as the sound of something heavy whooshing through the air towards her, she sprang away.

No, she didn't jump towards the judge to take that proud woman hostage - although admittedly the thought of grabbing the judge and pressing the blade of her sword to the woman's throat did occur to her. But no, Lucy shook off that thought and sprang instead toward her enchained friend Rose. 'Linda! Your key!' she cried as she reached Rose's side and spun to face the enemy at the door.

The very surprised guard was recovering his balance from swinging his club at full force and hitting only air. Others in the courtroom were beginning to stir to life now, some lifting their voices, some moving towards Lucy and Rose. Linda took a second to recover herself before running to her friends and fumbling to bring out her key.

Those keys. What marvelous things the Master had supplied them with! Keys able to open any lock in this fortress. Linda found hers quickly and set Rose free, then drew her own sword and joined Lucy en garde.

The clamor rose about them. Lucy's lips were moving, praying, even as she kept her eyes moving, appraising the situation. They could sure use some help here.

The judge was on her feet, banging the gavel with all her might. 'Security!' she screamed, 'arrest them!'

'That's what I was gonna do,' the guard growled. 'Just need a little back-up.' And he opened the door and left.

'Well!' sputtered the judge, and set to hammering once more with the gavel. Some of the other Committee members were attempting to surround the three women, but the two sharp swords were doing a nice job of keeping them all at bay.

'Move towards the door,' Lucy whispered to her companions. Nodding, they all three began to do just that.

'Stop them! They're getting away!' screeched the judge.

Some tried, but the edge of the blades kept turning them back. No one wanted to let them escape, but none of them wanted to get skewered either. This dangerous stuff was for the security guards!

The door was within reach now. Linda breathed a sigh of relief and reached out her empty hand towards the doorknob.

As the door burst open and a squad of guards stormed in.

~~~~~~~

Oh, and even better, right on their heels, a large and burly guard swaggered in, the sneer on his face showing that here was a man of rank. Looking round the room and taking in the outraged Committee members and the two women wielding swords, he curled his lip and said, 'What's this? A party? And me and my men not invited?'

'Arrest them!' the judge cried anew, all but breaking her gavel was her frenzied hammering.

'At once, my lady,' the officer bowed. With curt hand gestures he moved some of his men into position to take the three women. These guards too sneered, enjoying the prospect of disarming these silly women. One of the guards lifted his whip to lash at Lucy.

But in the closeness of the room, the whip first hit one of the Committee members behind him. There came a shriek from the woman he hit and still more shrieks from those around her.

'Arrest them!' screamed the judge.

'At once, my lady,' the officer repeated. Scowling at the guard whose whip had gone awry, he moved forward another set of guards, these wielding clubs.

Clubs. Shorter than the swords the women held, so the guards would need to move in close. Tensely, Lucy and Linda worked to hold the men at bay as the guards moved to encircle them. This was not good, not good. 'There's so many of them!' Linda whispered to Lucy.

'I know. Don't let them get behind us,' she replied.

But that was not easy, for the enemy was pressing on them so. Gradually the three of them were being maneuvered up against the wall, and then back into a corner. And once they were cornered, what would they do then?

Lucy was praying blindly now, so to speak, her mind focused on the skirmish around her as her spirit cried out to the Master for rescue. If not for herself, at least for Rose and for Linda! Even if I must die, let them go free! she thought.

As beside her, Linda was praying much the same thing. A guard shoved forward at her, his eyes as dead and cold as a wolf's. Instinctively - bless Forest for insisting on sword practice! - she brought her blade around, nicking his arm and sending his club scattering.

'Get them!' snarled the officer.

'Get him!' cried a pair of voices from the door. And, to everyone's amazement, two guards burst into the room and promptly tackled the officer.

~~~~~~~

Chaos. Screaming. Pandemonium. The officer bellowing, 'Get off me! Get them off me!' Most of the guards yelling the same orders at the pair of newcomers while trying to club them or whip them or grab them, and mostly managing to club and whip and grab the officer and each other. The Committee members were shrieking and quailing and trying to get out of the way (and not necessarily succeeding). And woven throughout the rest of the turmoil, the voices of the two mad guardsmen kept insisting, 'He ain't Major Tweeg! He's one of them! Don't you lot get it? He's an imposter!'

'Get them off me!' the major roared as the two continued to rain blow after blow upon him, not letting him up off the floor. It was amazing how much havoc just two guards could create. And yet it wasn't long before the whole room was a mad mess of guards tripping and stomping over one another. And gradually, one by one, even the guards who had been cornering Lucy and her companions were drawn off into the fray.

'He's an imposter, I'm telling you!' one or the other of the two mad guards went on yelling. 'Ain't you forgetting how they blinded the lot of our boys out there in the valley? They got some sort of power to cloud our minds, make us see things what ain't so. This ain't Major Tweeg! He's one of them!'

And now, though it was hard to tell at first, some of the rest of the guards began to change sides. More and more of them were trying to hold the major down, and less and less of them were trying to set him loose.

'You're all mad, the lot of you!' rumbled the one remaining guard who was still keeping Lucy and friends up against the wall. Turning, he growled at the three women, 'You're under arrest, so don't go nowhere.' And then he was wading into the brawl as well, bashing heads indiscriminately as he fought his way to the major's side.

Glancing first at Linda and then at Rose, Lucy whispered, 'Ok, let's go.' She sheathed her weapon and set out for the door, picking her way carefully round the knot of shouting men. Linda too put up her sword as she and Rose followed. To their relief, no one stopped them or even seemed to notice them as they made their way to the doorway and quietly left.

Now all they needed was to get out of the Day Room as well.

~~~~~~~

Linda closed the courtroom door softly behind them and turned to find that they were being stared at. Every woman in the immediate vicinity of the courtroom was on her feet, eyes wide, gazing at the three of them. And for a moment, they three stared back.

And then Rose smiled brightly. 'Good day, my dears,' she called out warmly. 'Isn't it a lovely morning?'

Now whispers broke out round about them as Rose said genially to her companions, 'After you, my dears.' Nodding cordially to the Day Room ladies, Rose guided Lucy and Linda through their midst, heading for the door to freedom that seemed impossibly far away. Smiling and nodding, nodding and smiling, Rose escorted her friends along through the room.

They kept moving. No one here attempted to stop them - or not yet, anyway. The women they walked by merely watched them, pie-eyed, while constantly whispering amongst themselves. Not the quietest whispering in the world, for Linda heard a great deal of it very plainly as she and her companions pressed on.

'Who can they be?'

'...came from the Committee's room...'

'Sh! No one really knows if that's where the Committee...'

'But why were they there? Were they being censured, or commended?'

'Yes, are they friend or foe? Should we stop them?'

'But what if we stop them and it turns out the Committee had invited them to tea? One could find herself in very great trouble, you know...'

And so all the standing women backed off and allowed them to pass. Thank you, Master. But, oh, they weren't out of the Day Room yet. Now they came among the ladies who were still sitting at the tables, all happily gossiping away, not a clue among them that anything untoward was going on. Table after table they passed, brunches and socials and planning committees and all. A few of these glanced up at them as they walked by. But no one stopped them.

Yet.

'Why, Ginger!' called a voice.

Uh oh.

'Ginger, surely that's never you,' said a particularly regal dowager, all dripping with jewels. 'Wearing such a dreadfully tacky frock? Why, I could never imagine you ever been caught dead in such an insipid dress as that!'

Rose smiled wanly and kept going.

Then came another voice, this one much worse, for it declared, 'But that's Carol! Didn't we just see her arrested and taken away by Security?'

Lucy was leaning forward to whisper to her companions that they'd better be hurrying along - when abruptly things got utterly dreadful. For behind them came the crash of a door being flung violently open, and with it a gruff voice bellowing out, 'You morons! You're letting them get away. After them!'

Lucy immediately condensed what she had been about to say down to a single word: 'Run!'

And they did. Lucy, in the rear, grabbed the nearest table and knocked it over, sending the prim ladies seated at it into hysteria. Ladylike yelps filled the air as Linda began tipping over tables as well. Not that any of the outraged Day Room ladies made any physical attempts to stop the three fugitives. Why, heroics such as that might result in someone ruining her dress, or mussing her hair, or breaking her nails! Oh no - horrified screeches of 'Security!' were more their speed - and they certainly screeched that word a lot.

Security, for their part, were doing their best to bulldoze through the maze of tables, knocking quite a few of them over themselves. The blare of their major's voice egged them on. 'After them! Cut 'em off! Get 'em!' he roared for all the room to hear. The whole room also heard him as he turned and rumbled at the hapless guards who had tackled him, 'As for you two braindead a...' And the noun he used there to describe the pair was such a shock to the sensibilities of the Day Room ladies that at least four of them promptly fainted, 'I'll deal with you later,' he finished. 'The rest of you lazy butts - get 'em!'

Lucy, Linda, and Rose were nearing the door now. Praying that, please, let there be no one out there, Linda wrenched the door open and shoved Rose through. Lucy charged out right on their heels and shouldered the door shut again, just in time to hear Linda cry, 'Hey!'

For it seems there was someone out there - two someones, both of them sprinting for all they were worth for the back door of the fortress. And no guards on that door? Why was that?

Linda grabbed Lucy's arm and pointed. 'Isn't that Starr?' she said.

'Never mind that now. Just go!' Lucy hissed. And the three of them pelted after the other two who had already reached the outside door and thrown it open. Raw daylight spilled in, threatening to blind them all. But they all kept running, the trio from the Day Room not five steps behind the others. They hit the door even before it had time to close again. Squinting into the sunglare, the three stumbled forth.

Strange. Even if that had been Starr - and it certainly had looked like her - where was she now? She and the short man with her surely couldn't have vanished so quickly. And yet Lucy, Linda, and Rose saw no one...

'This way!' a voice called to them. A figure now caught their eyes, standing in the sunlight, gesturing to them.

'Oh, it's Morgen,' said Linda in delight, and the three hurried over to him. He led them quickly away from the fortress and off toward the mountain. But though the three peppered him with questions about whether that had been Starr and where she might be now, he gave them no answers.

All the way to the mountain Lucy and Linda kept looking back, watching for their friend. When they reached the foot of the mountain with no sight of her, they were concerned. When they followed Morgen up the mountain side and still could not spy her on the plain behind them, they were troubled. And when they reached the cave itself and found only Joy and Talitha there - well, now they were getting downright anxious. Had they really seen Starr at all? Maybe they hadn't. 'Maybe,' said Linda, 'it was just my imagination. Or someone else.' Though she couldn't think who else she could have seen and mistaken for Starr...

And then the ivy curtain parted and in they came. Starr, and a man she soon introduced as Nat. What a relief!

Everyone's natural question of where Stone was, though - that question Starr was not prepared to answer yet. Not yet, no. And she went to stand in the entrance of the cave, peering out.

Not yet.

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 3, chapter 24 - 'free at last'

2006-03-31T11:59:00.000-06:00

His arms gathered her in and held her, as he dropped a kiss into her hair. 'My Starr.'

She clung to him. 'Beloved...' And then she began to sob.

'Come, dearest,' said he, 'tell me why you weep.'

'Oh, Master, Beloved! I messed up so badly! Everyone was telling me to run. Even you, I knew, wanted me to run. But I stopped instead. I disobeyed. And now Stone...!'

'Do you want me to forgive you?'

'Oh. Oh, yes. Of course I do.'

'You need only ask,' he prompted gently.

Nodding, she responded, 'Please, sir. For-forgive me.'

He smiled on her. 'I forgive.'

'But, but Stone! He...'

'You have no guarantee that he would not still be in the same circumstances if you had been obedient, dear.'

'What?' Her mind reeled, not comprehending. 'But... but your promises...'

'...are by no means voided by the current situation.' And as she continued to stare up into his face, her head shaking back and forth in bafflement, he added, 'Do not worry nor be afraid, my love. Soon shalt thou see my glory.'

'Um,' put in the prisoner. His eyes had finally grown accustomed to the splendor of daylight, and he glanced back towards the fortress. 'Not wanting to break up this tender reunion and all, but what if people start coming outta that door looking for us? We're in plain sight here.'

'People have already come out of the fortress in these few minutes, and have not seen us. More shall soon pour forth, and they also shall not see us. Much that is in plain sight never gets noticed at all.'

'Um... What?'

'Dear Starr,' said the Master, turning again to her, 'I want you to sit here and be comfortable while I speak with your brother for a few minutes. You will do that for me? There is nothing to be afraid of.'

'Yes, sir,' she said. Her eyes were shining once again with little-girl trust.

'My Child,' he said fondly. 'And I want you to set aside what happened in the deep dungeon, for that is forgiven. On the stairs you obeyed me well. I am well pleased.'

He kissed her once again on the forehead, and smiled as she sat down just as he had told her to, without a care in the world. Then, gesturing to the prisoner, the Master said, 'Come.' He walked a short distance away from Starr, just far enough for their conversation to be private.

'Now,' he said to the prisoner, who had followed him reluctantly. 'You know who I am?'

'Well, she called you Master,' the prisoner replied, jerking his head towards Starr.

'Such I am,' said the Master simply. 'Would you like me to set you free?'

'I'm outta the fortress. Don't that mean I'm free already?'

'You are forgetting about these?' And the Master pointed, drawing the prisoner's attention to the fact that his wrists were still bound with chains.

Oh. Yeah.

'And these physical chains,' the Master continued, 'are in great part symbolic of the chains that still bind your heart and your mind.'

Now it was the prisoner giving the Master a blank and baffled look.

'Your attitudes I am speaking of. Your hatreds. Your lusts for vengeance. Many such spirits hold you captive, and they have been with you for so long that you do not even recognize them. These things act like part of you, but they are not truly part of you. And from them I will set you free - if you want me to.'

'I... I...'

'Or would you prefer to stay chained?'

'Well... no...'

'Some of the chains have already begun to come loose from you. Did it not take you by surprise on the stairs when you realized that you pitied he whom you call Mitch, that you no longer desired vengeance on him?'

A curse word popped out of the prisoner's mouth. 'How you know that?' he cried.

'I am Master. I know all.'

'Well, well... Look. If you know all, then how come you let all this,' he waved a chained arm at the fortress, 'evil go on? Huh?'

The Master smiled. 'That is a tangent. But I will answer it. Yes, I know all. That does not necessarily imply logically that I also have all power - but I do. Why then do I stand by and let evil happen?' He leaned closer. 'Because I have rules by which I live. And, unlike Mankind, I do not lightly break those rules.'

There was a rebuke in that statement, and the prisoner hung his head.

'Yes, I allow men to sin,' the Master went on. 'Do I desire them to? No. But I permit them to choose. Their own way, or mine. You see, it was a blessing that I blessed Mankind with - the privilege to choose to obey me or not, so that Mankind might choose to love me freely, to live as my sons and daughters. A free choice to love, rather than mindless obedience which is not truly love at all. But my Enemy,' and he nodded towards the fortress, 'took the blessing I gave and twisted it - as he twists all good things - into a curse by deceiving Mankind into hating me instead. And so now sin runs rampant, and men blame me for permitting them to have their own way. And many are hurt by the sins of others. In fact, in a larger sense, every man's sin affects everyone else, living and not yet born.'

'And you let it happen,' the prisoner dared to say.

'I do. Does that make me evil?'

Their eyes met, and the prisoner began to tremble.

'Suppose for a minute,' said the Master, 'that I were to remove Mankind's free will. Completely abolish it. What would happen? All of Mankind would obey me perfectly and nothing evil would be able to happen. But also... nothing real would be able to happen.' He let that sink in for a bit, then added, 'And so, instead, for now, I permit Mankind to choose for me or against me. And I continue to love, and to send forth those whom I love and who love me to raid the fortress of my Enemy and set the captives free.'

'Why not just level the fortress entirely and set everyone free at once?'

'But there are so many who have chosen against me. Set them free, and what will they do? They will only continue on in their sin and be swiftly gathered up once more by my Enemy and made captives again. How would razing the fortress change anything if the hearts of Mankind are not changed?'

'Well,' said the prisoner. 'Well...' And then, sullenly, 'Anyway, you knew it would happen.'

'I knew all of it would happen, yes,' the Master agreed. 'All the wickedness. All the hurts rained on the heads of the victims of evil. Yes, I knew. And I also knew,' and he held up his arms, 'the price it would take - the price I myself would pay - to break the power of the Enemy and set Mankind free once and for all. The price of Love, to woo and win the hearts of Mankind.' He turned his arms, showing the wounds there on his wrists, the terrible terrible scars of his own death. 'You know the price that I paid, my son. To give you the right to become my son.'

The prisoner shrank back from the sight of those scars, unable to tear his eyes from them. 'Don't call me son,' he whispered.

'You have never known a father who was worthy of the name,' said the Master, his arms still open, 'one who would love you and protect you the way a father ought to. Therefore you fear to be called my son. Until I sent Starr to you, you never even knew Love. But now has she become a sister to you, and so has begun the unlocking of your heart.' And as the prisoner began anew to tremble, this time uncontrollably, the Master added, 'Will you choose now to become my son? To let me free you in every way?'

The prisoner fell to his knees, tears streaking his face. 'But I'm so evil,' he whispered, seeing for the first time his own heart and his own choices. Not just the evils done against him all his life, the ones he had always railed about - but the evils he himself had done in return and felt justified in doing. His own evil heart. 'Why,' he added, 'would you even want me?'

'Because I do,' said the Master. And when the prisoner looked up, the Master said something to him that he had never really believed from anyone's lips ever before.

'I love you.'

'M-master!'

He couldn't even stand up. Having fallen to his knees, the prisoner didn't have the strength to get to his feet again. All he could do was inch forward, on his knees, to go to the Master.

And the Master met him. Held him. Forgave him. Swept aside every chain from him. And into his ear he spoke a new name.

And called him, 'Son.'

~~~~~~~

There on the ground sat Starr, just as the Master had said she should. She watched as guards came pouring out of the fortress, just as the Master had said they would. Round and round they ran, searching, scouring the grounds for them; like so many ants they looked. But though they passed close by her - one of them nearly treading right on her - none of the guards gave any sign of noticing her, or the Master, or the prisoner.

Finally one of the guards called the rest together. He yelled at the others quite a bit, then, scowling, marched them back inside the fortress. And this time he left two of them guarding the outside of the door.

'Come. Let us go now.'

The Master was now standing over her, holding down his hand. Starr took it and he raised her to her feet. Automatically she glanced at the prisoner who was at the Master's side. The little man's eyes were bright with recent tears. His flimsy rags had been transformed to fine linen, clean and bright.

And his arms... Yes! his chains were gone!

Joyfully she smiled at him, but was surprised to see that his own smile back to her was no more than half-hearted. Why was that, she wondered. And she started to ask. But the Master was on the move, so Starr hurried to follow instead.

Swiftly he led them away from the fortress, round the northern face of it, and off toward the mountain beyond. Starr had to all but run to keep up. And every so often, she would glance back.

No, not because anyone was following them from the fortress, for no one was. But for a different reason...

'Master?' she said at last.

'Yes, my Starr?' the Master replied. He paused long enough for her to draw close. Then, taking her hand, he strode on. 'Tell me what troubles you,' he prompted.

'You already know, surely?'

'But I like for you to tell me.'

Furtively, not wanting to draw attention to what she was doing, she pointed at their companion. He had been trailing behind them all this way. 'Is something wrong?' she whispered. 'Because he just doesn't look as happy as I was expecting him to. He's free, but...'

'But he does not understand something, and that has him in turmoil within.'

Oh. Poor guy. Glancing back again, Starr added, 'But you're going to fix that, right?'

The Master caught her eye. 'First he must ask.'

He does? 'But... but what if he doesn't ask?'

'He will,' said the Master confidently. 'And when he does, you will explain to him, and he will be comforted.'

'I will? But...!'

'Do not worry,' he said, as he stopped and turned to face them both, 'I have urgent business yet to attend to within the fortress. Here I must leave you.'

Now Starr was even more stunned. 'But I don't remember how to get to the cave!' she protested.

'Do not fear, my love. Malachi knows the way.'

Malachi? But he wasn't anywhere arou... Oh.

For abruptly, where a moment before no one had been, now Malachi was standing a little distance away from them. He bowed to the Master, then swept an arm toward the mountain before them. 'Come.'

They followed, with the prisoner again lagging a bit behind. As for Starr, she barely took three steps before glancing back once more, hoping to see again the confidence in the Master's face. Her own face, she was sure, was a tattered mask of diffidence.

But he was no longer there. He had already completely vanished from sight.

With a sigh, Starr whispered to herself, 'I sure hope his urgent business is rescuing Stone.' And then she hurried to catch up with Malachi.

~~~~~~~

As the Master had before him, so now Malachi led them swiftly along, as if on eagle's wings. Shortly they were at the edge of the woods bordering the foot of the mountain. Malachi plunged right through the underbrush, finding the pathway once more and leading them up the mountainside.

The way was every bit as steep as Starr remembered it. At places she had to grab onto branches to keep going, or even roots. And, as before, she glanced back regularly to check on the prisoner behind her, noting that each time she looked back, his face was glummer than the time before. What ailed him, she wondered.

The prisoner... She was so used to thinking of him as 'the prisoner' - but he wasn't anymore, was he? She needed a real name for him now, but neither he nor the Master had yet mentioned to her what the man's new name was. Pausing in the climb, she waited till the little guy caught her up, then asked, 'Hey, what did the Mas...?'

'Starr,' he interrupted, not even noticing that she was talking. 'Starr, you gotta tell me something!'

'Ok,' she said, bewildered.

'Starr, do you think... do you think maybe the Master doesn't... like me?'

'Not like you? Whatever gave you that idea?'

'Well, it's just...' He rubbed at his eyes, looking utterly stricken. 'It's just that... The Master gave you a beautiful name. He even gave Mitch an interesting one. But me...'

'Why, what'd he name you?'

Sigh. 'He... called me Nat.' And the shame and disappointment in his voice wrenched Starr's heart. 'I didn't want to say anything to him,' he rushed on. 'I don't wanna be, like, ungrateful or anything. But why did he have to name me Nat?' And even as Starr was about to ask what could be wrong with that name, he added pitifully, 'Is it because I'm short?'

Short? Nat? What was...?

And suddenly, as if the answer had just been dropped into her brain, she understood.

'He didn't name you gnat-with-a-g,' she said softly, gently, being absolutely sure not to hurt his raw feelings. 'He didn't name you for an insect. He gave you a man's name. Nat is short for Nathaniel. And Nathaniel means gift of God.'

His eyes sparked up. 'Really? Gift of God?' Relief washed through him - not just his face but his whole being. 'Wow. I like that.' But then, soberly, he added, 'And now I feel stupid for doubting him.'

'Then ask his forgiveness,' she counseled.

'But he's not here.'

'He'll hear you. Trust me.'

'Ok...'

Moments later, the prisoner - Nat - began to smile at last. And they moved on. Shortly they caught up with Malachi, who was standing patiently awaiting them. And so they climbed on.

After a good while Malachi led them off to the left and began to descend slightly. Oh, Starr remembered this last bit! Eagerly she scanned the mountainside ahead of them, looking for the curtain of ivy that both marked and concealed the entrance to the cave. Soon now, she thought, very soon... There!

She pushed aside the tendrils and ushered Nat inside. And now they found that they had already become too used to the brilliance of daylight, for they could make out nothing of the dim interior of the cave. Someone inside certainly saw them, though, for immediately they were surrounded with a clamor of voices.

'Starr!' said the first voice. 'There you are! We were wondering what became of you.'

'Yes,' came a second voice, 'didn't you hear me call to you as you were about to go out the backdoor? I hollered Hey, but you didn't stop.'

'And we couldn't have been more than five steps behind you coming out of the fortress,' put in the first voice again. 'But once we got outside, you were nowhere in sight! And then we managed to get here to the cave before you as well. Where have you been?'

And then still another voice asked, 'Wait a minute. Where's Stone?'

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the child, part 3, chapter 23 - 'up and out'

2006-03-24T00:09:00.000-06:00

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, completely exposed in this empty corridor. And with the door opening, they were about to be caught! Starr nudged the prisoner behind her and drew her sword as quietly as she could. And prayed. Oh, she prayed!

'What the' curse 'do you think you're doing?' came a thunderous voice from beyond the door. 'Sneaking off from the job?'

The door shuddered and arrested, open only a few inches.

'I ain't sneaking!' came a second voice. 'Thought we was supposed to be searching all the levels.'

'Idiot. Don't you never listen? The major says we're gonna start at the bottom and work up. Flush 'em out, see?'

The door remained rebelliously partly open. 'Huh. Be smarter, seems like, to start at the top and flush 'em down to the bottom.'

'Yeah, well... you ain't no major!'

'And anyway,' the second voice went on, 'there was squads being dropped off on some of them other levels up there as we was passing. Why not here?'

'Cause them was the levels the spy ratted out that his friends was on, moron. Ain't supposed to be no one here.'

'Hmph. Well, if I was the major, we'd search it anyway!'

'If you was the major, I'd be a rat's...' A loud voice interrupted then, bellowing out something that sounded like, 'Slackers!'

The first voice cursed heartily. 'See? Now you done got me in trouble to boot!' There followed a sound that might have been a scuffle. In the midst of it, the door suddenly slammed shut. And there was silence.

Starr and the prisoner stood for a long moment, stunned, before she at length slid the sword back into its sheath. 'Well. They're gone.'

'Think it's safe to get back on the stairs now?'

'Let's listen.' Each glued an ear to the door briefly, then looked at each other and nodded. Easing the door back open, they stepped out into the quiet stairway and began again their ascent.

We dodged another one, thought the prisoner to himself. But how many times, he wondered, could their luck manage to hold out? And for that matter, how come their luck was holding out, when Mitch's hadn't?

He pictured again the last glimpse he'd had of the big guy, all buried under that vicious, murderous mob. And he shuddered. Poor guy!

Wait - poor Mitch? He was actually feeling sorry for Mitch? After all the cursed things Mitch had done to him? How could he ever possibly feel even an ounce of pity for that lousy... Why, he oughta be celebrating the scum's downfall instead!

But he wasn't. He genuinely felt bad for the guy. But why? Why would he feel that? What had changed?

Mitch had changed, that's what. He had become... The prisoner struggled to put it into thought. Mitch had become... a man, capable of, of really loving someone. Of loving so deeply that he could - man! That he could lay down his life for someone.

That was it, wasn't it? Mitch loved Starr so much, it didn't matter what happened to him as long as she was safe. Laying down his life...

The prisoner shuddered again and cringed away from the thought. He didn't want to think about this any further. Because from that last thought immediately sprang up two more thoughts, and he didn't want to deal with either of them. The one thought was: laying down his life - that's what they said the Master had done, even for him.

And the other thought was: if someone like Mitch could change, then maybe...

He wanted to slam his hands over his ears to block out the rest of the thought.

...maybe he could too?

~~~~~~~

Gritting his teeth, he shook his head hard to disperse those thoughts. Nobody could change! he growled under his breath.

Starr was leading the way on up the stairs. Funny how, now that it was no longer life-and-death for them to find a door immediately - now they saw doors aplenty. A new one popped up at regular intervals as they hurried up the stairs. And as they reached each door, the prisoner noticed that Starr slowed down and stared hard at it before frowning and moving on.

'What are you doing?' he asked at last.

'Be nice if these things had labels,' she said, mostly to herself.

Huh? 'You mean we're lost?' he hissed.

'I mean...' she sighed. 'I mean I'm pretty sure Forest kept track of how many levels down it was when we first got in here. But I didn't. And even if I had, I have no idea how many doors we passed coming back up. Especially...'

Yeah, especially since she'd been blind for the very first part of the journey. Man. 'Looks like we gotta peek through one of the doors then,' he suggested. 'Figure out where we are.'

'Well that's the problem,' Starr replied. 'I thought of that. But every time we reach a new door, all I get is a very strong No.'

The prisoner's steps slowed as he tried to figure out what that was supposed to mean. All she got was a very strong No? 'What the' curse 'are you talking about?' he asked. And then, to his surprise, he found himself adding, 'Sorry,' for having cursed.

'I mean,' said Starr, 'that every time we come up on a door, I pray and ask the Master if I should stop and look through that door. And each time, I get, No - keep moving.'

There was a new door on the next landing they were just now approaching, and the prisoner pointed at it. 'You mean to tell me that a voice is telling you whether or not you should stick your head through that door and look around?' Skeptical didn't even begin to describe his tone and his look just then.

'Actually, yes,' she replied. And she stopped as usual. And then her eyes popped wide. 'C'mon!' she said urgently, making a grab for his arm.

'What?' he said, jerking his arm back out of her grasp.

'That was the strongest yet! We need to get out of here now. Come on!' And she all but ran up the stairs and round the next corner.

Grumbling out a few choice curses, the prisoner deliberately sauntered along after her. What was her big flaming hurry anywa...

And then he ran for it too. The door was opening!

~~~~~~~

Muffling an oath - or some other noise - the prisoner dove up the stairs and out of sight round the next corner. He clutched his chains to himself with one hand as he landed, throwing the other hand over his mouth to hush his panicked breathing, hoping he wouldn't be heard. If only his heart wasn't pounding so loudly!

Starr was standing on the steps just above where he had landed. Standing? Why was she just standing? Shouldn't she be running? Shouldn't they both be? After all, who would be opening the door below but guards - and they were either gonna be heading down the stairs or up, right? Down would be fine, but what if it was up? Why wasn't Starr running?

And for that matter, why wasn't he?

But then she looked at him. And without a word, she answered the questions he hadn't asked aloud. She answered by cupping a hand round her ear.

Fine, we're listening! he scowled back in return.

'...didn't do nothing wrong!' came a voice, loud and clear.

'Yeah?' said a second voice, mockingly. 'Then you don't got nothing to worry about, eh?'

'Yeah,' added a third. 'You just tell it to the major. He'll be so happy, why, I'm sure he'll pin a medal on you!'

Raucous laughter then, not quite as loud or as clear, pierced by the first voice again: 'I ain't lying! Look, he was there this morning. Answered roll call like usual, and then we chained him to his work station same as we always do. No way he coulda just disappeared!'

The voices were definitely fading with distance now. 'Then where the' curse 'is he?' came the second voice. And after that, quickly, the words became too indistinct to make out, and then too soft to even hear.

And now Starr and the prisoner were alone once more.

Slowly the prisoner uncovered his mouth and drew a long breath. Dodged another one! he thought. And then he stared up at Starr, his eyes seriously freaked out. 'You knew that door was gonna open, and then you knew that they wasn't gonna come our way! How the' curse 'do you do that?'

But Starr was busily muttering to herself. 'He. They said he. He answered roll call; he disappeared. Hmm...' Rapidly ticking off her fingers, she added, 'Walker gave us five names, and only two of those were men. They couldn't have meant Logan, because he was a long way downstairs, so we surely passed his level doors and doors ago. So this,' and she pointed in the direction of the most recent door, 'must have been Rob's level. Well, Stephen's...' Turning to the prisoner, she sparkled, 'Isn't the Master great how he works things out? Now I know where we are and how much further we have to go!' Grabbing his hand, she helped him to his feet. 'Won't be long now,' she promised.

But what the prisoner was thinking about as he trailed her up the stairs was, Hey - did she say Rob?

~~~~~~~

It wasn't much further at all. Almost before they knew it, they were standing before a door with Starr nodding. 'This is it. This is the ground floor.'

And likely crawling with guards, the prisoner thought darkly. Starr, without any hesitation, reached for the door to open it. Only to find her companion blocking her. 'You're nuts, right?' he said.

'I'm hearing to hurry,' she replied.

'You and your voices!' he began to protest. Only to find that, somehow, she had reached past him - or through him? - and now had the door open.

Great.

And the place was empty. Off to the left were the corridors with all the cells, just like downstairs (but a lot cleaner). In front of them was an large area with a door on the far side. 'The Day Room,' Starr pointed out - and then wondered that she remembered. And well over to the right, yet another door. She recognized it as well, but from very recently. 'That's how we got in, and that's how we'll get out.'

'We go out that door?'

'Yes. It opens straight outside.'

His frown deepened. 'Then why isn't it guarded? How can you be sure this isn't a trap?'

A good question. But almost immediately a moot one. For the door to the Day Room suddenly began to open, and both Starr and the prisoner instantly took off running for the outside door.

'Hey!' came a cry from behind them. Which only made them run all the faster, although it did occur to the prisoner to wonder why the voice behind them sounded more female than male.

Starr reached the door first and burst through it, the prisoner right on her heels. Ugh! The sunlight all but blinded them. Three days in the deepest dungeon had accustomed Starr's eyes to near-darkness - how much more so the prisoner's eyes after a lifetime down there? Still they stumbled on, instinctively holding their arms out before them, squinting severely.

'This way.'

Now, that voice came from in front of them. But who could it be? Through the dazzle of sunlight, Starr could barely make out the outline of a human shape before them. The arms looked like sticks, waving them forward. 'Quickly, dear,' said the voice.

Oh! 'I know that voice!' Starr cried with delight and plunged onward, blindly trusting as she ran straight for his arms.

The Master!

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the child, part 3, chapter 22 - 'as you love her...'

2006-03-17T11:18:00.000-06:00

In her worry - yes, the very thing Maccabees had told her not to do! - over Stone, Starr had stopped paying attention to that unnerving noise that had been coming closer and closer all this time. Now she saw the source of the noise. Now, when it was too late.

'Well, what the' curse' do we got here?' rasped a husky voice from all too close by. And from every corridor, Starr now saw people pouring forth. Dozens and scores of people. Maybe the entire population of the prisoners who lived down here.

And they did not look very friendly.

Least friendly-looking of all was a big, ugly, brutish lout with an unholy glint in his eye, weaving his unsteady way towards her. 'Where'd you come from, little girl?' he sneered leeringly, drawing even closer. He might have been spawned right out of the slime that covered the floor. His eyes raked over her, enjoying her apprehension. 'We don't get a whole lot of pretty little girls down here,' he said. 'Do we, boys?'

'Back off, Butch,' said Stone, his voice low and still a bit gravelly from the abuse he'd just taken. Coming up alongside Starr, Stone made ready to draw his sword for her defense.

'Ohhh!' said Butch, mockingly. 'Now I get it! Now I see why ol' buddy Mitch don't wanna drink with us no more. He went and got himself a girlfriend.' And there was something in the way he slurred the word that turned it into an obscene insult.

'Leave her alone. Your quarrel is with me,' said Stone.

'Quarrel? Ain't no quarrel here, Mitchie. Naw, we just gonna have us a party, eh, guys? And Mitchie's little girlfriend here - why, she gets to be the live entertainment!' He leered at her evilly. Leaning close, he hissed into her face, 'Won't that be fun!'

'I said leave her alone!' said Stone, stepping between her and Butch. At the same moment, the prisoner bravely stepped up too. 'Ain't it a tad early to be soused already?' said he disparagingly. 'How 'bout you just go sleep it off somewhere, Butcher Boy?'

'You,' Butch turned savagely towards the little prisoner, 'get the' curse 'outta my face! And you...' He turned back towards Stone, acting like he had something to say to him. But instead of talking, Butch suddenly launched his knee into Stone's gut, doubling him over, sending him sprawling. 'Get him, boys!' Butch cried, as he himself reached for Starr.

'The' curse 'you will!' growled the prisoner. Locking both hands together, he swung at Butch so that the chains hanging from his wrists whipped hard into the drunkard's face. Down went Butch.

'Go, Starr! Run!' cried the prisoner. And this time, she didn't hesitate to obey. Spinning, she started for the stairway door.

And then she was sprawled on the floor as well, face down in the mire. Stunned, she tried to fathom why she was down there; what could she have tripped on? But then she felt the strong hand gripping her ankle. Butch. From where he lay in the floor, he had lashed out at her anyway. 'Not so fast, little lady,' he growled, starting to get his knees under himself to stand.

'Let her go!' yelled the prisoner. Starr, blinded with mire in her eyes, could only guess at what was happening now. But it was an easy guess; the sound she heard now were the same as she had heard the day before: the crunch of a foot connecting with human flesh, over and over and over again. And punctuated with the words, 'Leave. Her. Alone!'

And then hands grabbed her at the waist. Still mire-blinded, she wasn't sure at first if this was friend or foe - particularly since right now there were plenty of foes about and precious few friends. She started to struggle...

'It's me, Starr. It's just me.' The prisoner's voice, very close by her ear. He lifted her, guiding her somewhere. The confusion of voice all about disoriented her. Where were they going? And where was Stone?

A door opening. Herself being thrust through the doorway. She balked. 'I can't see. Where's Stone?'

For a moment, the prisoner paused and looked back. He shuddered. Better she couldn't see! He could barely spot the guy himself. Somewhere under that pile of angry violent men was Stone, being punched, kicked, smothered.

And yet... Now he saw him, looking up at him from under that mass. Stone caught the prisoner's eye. And somehow, over all that din of angry voices, Stone made himself heard. 'As you love her, get her out of here!'

The prisoner nodded. 'I will.' And closed the stairway door.

~~~~~~~

Now it was he grabbing Starr's hand. 'C'mon.'

'Where's Stone?' But he gave her no answer. He just tugged her on, scrambling up the stairs. She stumbled badly over the steps as he dragged her along, and more than once she fell entirely, so that he had to help her up again. There was no way she could see where she was going.

The prisoner knew how that felt. He'd had mire splashed and smeared and ground into his eyes a few times during his long years down here. He knew how it must burn and sting her. If only he had something to cleanse her eyes, something that would get rid of the mire and soothe the burning. But he didn't have a thing - not even a rag, not a drop of water...

Wait. Hey, yeah! He didn't have anything, but she did!

He stopped running so abruptly that she nearly fell up the stairs again. 'What's happening?' she cried as he spun her about, jerking at the leather strap across her body. 'Stop that! Who...?'

'It's just me, and hush your squalling before someone hears us! I just need your canteen.' He pulled it off her. She heard it uncorking. Then a hand shoved her chin skyward.

And now water was coursing over her face. 'Oh yeah. Hold your breath,' he added as she spluttered and flailed to push the canteen away.

'What...?' Ah, but then the water hit its mark and she comprehended what he was doing. She stopped fighting it and instead dug at the mire in her eyes, receiving the cool cleansing relief of the water.

'All better?' said he, and stopped pouring. Oh but she looked a mess, what with stripes of clean and dirty all down her clothes marking where the water had flowed and where it hadn't. And her eyes - ugh, but they were red and swollen!

But she could see now. She blinked. A lot. Looked around.

'Where's Stone?'

'Oh no you don't. Don't you start with that again.'

Bafflement gave place to horror on her face. 'We left him behind? We have to go back!'

He caught her arm as she turned to head back downstairs. 'What are you, part mule? We can't go back!'

'But Stone! They'll kill him. They'll kill him!'

He didn't argue the point. He was sure she was right. In fact, well, he figured they already had...

What was that?

For now they heard a sound, way above their heads. It might have been the sound of a flash flood roiling down a hillside, or perhaps a rockslide carrying devastation in its path. But Starr knew what it really was.

'It's the guards,' she whispered, her face pale.

'Guards? What now?'

Swiftly she related to him what Maccabees had told her that morning about Walker. And when she was done, the prisoner's face was pale as well. 'We gotta get off these stairs!' Panicked, he looked up, down, all around. No doors here. Had they passed any already? He couldn't remember if they had. Muttering curses, he tried to think. The only door he knew for sure was below them was the one they had just fled through. No way they were going back there. So that left...

'C'mon,' he said again. And grabbing her hand once more, he lit out upstairs as fast as he could go.

At least now he didn't have to drag Starr along. She ran too, sometimes outpacing him. He gathered his chains and pressed them to his bosom as they ran, trying to minimize the jangling, trying not to draw any attention to themselves.

They ran. Landing... landing... landing... No doors? Where were the doors? Had they missed seeing one?

Oh, the guards were coming closer, closer. They could hear now individual footfalls up there, could make out rough voices and rugged breathing, coming closer, closer.

They ran. Stumbled. Ran on. 'Oh please, Master!' Starr's lips moved silently. 'Please, let there be...'

A door! The prisoner sprinted ahead, yanked it open. They both tumbled through and he dragged it shut again behind them.

And here came the guards. Like a thundering herd, they swept past the door and on down, down. So many of them, rumbling past! When had there ever been so many guards this far down before?

We really dodged that one, the prisoner thought to himself. Imagine if they hadn't been able to get off the stairs in time!

He was standing right by the door, his hand at the knob, just waiting for the guards to all go past so that he and Starr could get out of there. He was feeling mighty nervous about this whole thing and kept casting glances behind him at the empty corridors surrounding them, wondering how long these corridors could stay empty.

And so he happened to be turned away, scanning those hallways, when he heard and saw Starr stiffen and stifle a gasp.

What? He spun back - and found himself stifling a full-blown shriek. The door was opening!

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 3, chapter 21 - 'run!'

2006-03-10T00:44:00.000-06:00

In the deep darkness, in the curtained-off corner of a small cell carpeted with mire, there she had prayed and prayed. And there, eventually, her head had drooped and her whispered words had swirled to a stop in sleep.

Dreamless sleep. What awareness she had while unconscious was a vague uneasiness, a nibbling sense of something going wrong.

And then a hand touched her side. And a voice called to her: 'Starr.'

Like swimming up out of a great abyss it was, that waking up. And the light round about her was puzzling. She distinctly remembered blowing out the candle; in fact, the bit of stub was there in her hand. So where was all this light coming from?

'Starr. Rise up. It is time to go.'

Blink. And blink again. And at last things began to come into focus. The curtain Stone had nailed up with the two forks was now gone. And standing there before her...

'Maccabees?'

It was him, wasn't it? But not his usual self. She saw now that he was the source of the light, standing there all wings and eyes and faces.

Blink. Focus. Strain to think. 'Go...?'

One of his hands reached down to take hers. 'Yes. Out. Walker is rescued, but not before the guards beat out of him all that he knew. And now the guards are spreading throughout the fortress hunting for us. We must go.'

Her thoughts might as well have been wading through mud, so slowly was she processing what he just said. The only thing that stood out to her at first was...

'Walker's rescued? Did Stone find him?'

'No. Jack did, far upstairs.'

Oh. Thinking some more. Go. Yes. 'Stone! He's out there somewhere, still looking for someone to rescue.' And then she remembered something very important. 'Oh. And I can't walk.'

'You cannot?' Maccabees' hand tightened on hers, drawing her suddenly upright and standing. 'Are you sure about that?'

Stunned, she looked down to see that already she was putting her weight on her injured foot, the foot that had consistently collapsed under her for most of a day now. 'Oh,' she said. 'Well. Maybe I'm not so sure about that after all.'

'You will need to hurry,' Maccabees counseled as he plucked up her pack and helped her shrug it on. 'Waste no time. Go first towards the stairs.'

'But Stone! I need to find him first,' she objected.

Maccabees glanced at the door and obviously beyond it as well. 'He will be along directly,' said the angel. 'Waste no time worrying nor wondering about him. Go quickly. Run.' The door opened itself for them, and he escorted her out of the cell, then pointed up the corridor. 'Now. And Starr...'

'Yes?'

'Forget not why you came here.'

And on that bewildering note, before she could ask or say anything more, her angelic friend simply vanished.

~~~~~~~

Stone plunged through the corridors of the deep dungeon, slipping in the mire, running for his life ahead of Butch and all his crew. Two thoughts coursed through his head as he ran. One was, how would he escape this enraged mob at his heels? And the other thought was, what about Starr? It was more important than ever that he get her out of this dungeon entirely. She was not safe as long as she was down here - though at least as long as she lay hidden in the cell they had taken over, she was relatively safe.

In his headlong dash from the danger behind him, Stone suddenly realized he was passing the fourth corridor. Automatically his eyes shifted to pick out the door up that way, the one Starr was concealed behind.

Except... Stone's heart almost failed him, and his feet slipped badly in the mire, as he saw a figure running up that corridor. Only a momentary glimpse did he catch before the figure disappeared round the far corner. But there was no mistaking the long hair trailing from the figure's head, nor the long skirts flying round its form.

Starr, running? But how? And why had she broken cover? Who or what could she be running from?

On impulse Stone turned to follow her, to catch her up and protect her. The slick flooring made the sudden turn all but impossible, so that he nearly went sprawling. Mire spattered from his heels as he scrambled to regain both his lost traction and lost momentum. Ah, but now he was up and running again, his mind screaming out Starr's name.

Whump!

And now he was down, measuring his length in the mire. What? He struggled to rise and couldn't. Something was wrapped round his legs; a weight pinned him to the floor.

'Got him, Butch!' crowed a high thin voice. And Stone knew that voice. It was Elliot, one of Butch's toadies. The something wrapped round his legs were Elliot's skinny arms. Desperately, Stone heaved himself up anyway, fighting to throw Elliot off, straining to be free again, to be off and running once more. And all he could think was, Run, Starr! Run!

~~~~~~~

She ran. Her focus was all ahead of her, so that she never saw what was going on behind her, down the fourth corridor. She turned the corner, then passed the other corridors, running for the stairs. Stone would be waiting there for her, wouldn't he? Wasn't that what Maccabees had told her?

But, no, Stone wasn't waiting at the stairway door. Her steps faltered. What? But then - what had Maccabees said? That Stone would, um, um... 'be along directly.' What did that mean?

And the other thing Maccabees had said that made no sense to her: 'Forget not why you came here.' What was that supposed to mean?

Ohhh... What indeed!

Abruptly she whipped away from the stairs and down that one lonely corridor nearby, fumbling for the key she knew she would need. Finding it, she ran for the only door in the dim corridor. Reached the door. Jammed the key into the lock. Then turned it. Wrenching open that miserable door, she leaned against it, panting, and gasped out, 'Come on if you're coming.'

A movement in the deep dark within. 'Huh? Oh, it's you. What are you doing back? What the' curse 'are you talking ab...'

'We have to go, and we have to go now. Now is the time to decide. Are you coming, or aren't you?'

'I... I...'

Starr turned. The sound of some great commotion was heading this way. The guards? Who knew?

'Well, I'm going,' she said. She took hold of the door to Solitary, about to shove it shut again.

'No, wait! I'm coming, I'm coming.' The prisoner lurched to his feet, hesitated, snatched something up off the floor, then stumbled out. Starr pushed the door shut behind him, and the click of the latch as the door automatically locked itself back sounded so very, very final. No going back now. With a groan and a curse, the prisoner mumbled to himself, 'Oh, I've done it now.'

'C'mon,' said Starr, grabbing his hand. Or at least, she tried to. But something was in his hand, something hard and small. The something he had snatched up from the floor.

'What's that?' she asked.

'Nothing. Never mind.' He quickly transferred the thing to his other hand, feeling pretty silly about the whole thing. Why had he even bothered to pick up Mitch's stupid candle anyway? And why didn't he just go ahead and drop it now?

But he didn't drop it. And as Starr grabbed his other hand and took off running for the stairs, he only clutched the candle all the tighter.

What, Starr wondered, was she leading him into though? What was that noise growing ahead of them? She had no idea what they would find once they reached the end of this short passageway. The best case, the one she hoped for, was to find Stone alone - but why he would be making so much noise, she hadn't a clue. The worst case - ugh, there were an awful lot of worst cases! The horrendous possibilities ambushed her mind like an enemy army. Ruthlessly forcing the worries away, she began to pray as they ran on. She didn't know what awaited them - but the Master surely did. And, oh, Master - Beloved! - she needed to know what to do!

Already they were almost to the end of the corridor. Only one idea had popped into her head for them to do, so...

'We're going to make a break for it,' she said. 'Don't stop running.'

'Are you nuts?' her companion replied. He could hear the commotion ahead of them just as clearly as she could. And he had a better idea of what it could mean. 'Just barge in on whatever that is?'

'Element of surprise,' she answered. If they would just run and keep running, they might be able to plow right through whatever was out there and reach the stairs and be gone before... well, before whoever or whatever was out there could have time to react.

No, it didn't sound like a great plan, or even a practical one. But it was all she had. 'C'mon!'

Ducking her head, she ran even faster, dragging him along behind her. And now they burst out of the passage and into the last corridor leading to the stairs, only to be confronted by...

Nothing.

~~~~~~~

Nothing? So great was Starr's puzzlement, that she stopped running abruptly, not even thinking that she was forgetting to follow the plan. Nothing?

'Ow! Hey, warn a guy!' the prisoner complained as he ran straight into her.

Nothing - but then where was all that noise coming from?

Oh!

For now, from the fourth corridor, there stumbled out a figure. In the dim light it barely looked like a man. Or maybe it looked like a grotesque caricature of a man - hunchbacked, with something large trailing off its left leg and dragging along behind it as the figure lurched along.

'Starr,' it croaked. 'Starr. Run!'

It... it knew her name? Terror started to close round her heart.

And then, with the suddenness of a flash of lightning, she saw. The hunch on the figure's back was a small man or a boy riding on his shoulders, arms locked round the figure's neck in a chokehold. And the thing dragging off the figure's leg - that was a second man or boy, trying to trip the figure up as he staggered closer, closer.

Starr's eyes went wide as she recognized who this was. 'Stone!'

'Run, Starr!' he said again, waving his arms. His face was turning a ghastly color, and he was barely upright anymore. And now it dawned on Starr that, whoever these two people were that were hanging off Stone, the one on his back was indeed trying to choke him.

'Run...' Stone gasped out once more. He was so obviously nearing the end of his strength now. And if he should fall - what would happen to him then?

Starr's hand dropped to her sword's hilt.

A curse word popped into the air close to her ear. 'Man, don't you ever listen? The guy is telling you to run, not fight!' The prisoner scowled at her. 'So run, idiot.'

'But, but Stone needs help!' she replied.

'What he needs... Ok, fine, I'll help him, and you run.' Turning about, the prisoner juggled that bit of candle he'd been carrying, then abruptly fired it with all his might. 'Back off, Weezer!' he yelled as he made the throw.

The candle flew true, smacking the guy on Stone's back square in the head, sending him tumbling to the floor. Sucking in air gratefully, Stone now was able to jerk his leg loose from Elliot's grip.

'Run, Stone!' cried Starr.

'Yeah, Mitch - Stone - whoever you are - run! And you!' the prisoner added, turning back to face Starr. 'You're still here! You shoulda been running for the stairs alrea... uh oh.'

Uh oh? Now it was the prisoner's eyes that had gone wide, as he stared fixedly at something beyond Starr's head. A deep chill settled into her heart as she turned around to face whatever it was behind her...

Oh my. Things had just become a whole lot worse.

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 3, chapter 20 - 'first team out'

2006-03-03T01:58:00.000-06:00

The guards gone, Joy and Talitha spun around to find themselves now face-to-face with Malachi. 'Mal!' Joy whispered in relief.

'What just happened?' added Talitha.

'A bit of blindness,' Malachi replied. 'Or, looked at another way, a bit of favor. But now we must go.'

'But we just got here.'

'Yes, we haven't done any searching for Walker yet.'

Malachi turned the two girls and began steering them towards the stairway. 'You did hear what the guards were saying, did you not?' he asked.

'Something about, uh, guts spilling...?' Joy ventured, her nose wrinkling at the thought.

'He was speaking of Walker,' said Mal.

Horror coursed over both girls' faces. 'Oh, no! They didn't kill him, did they?'

'Not that kind of spilling of guts,' said Mal patiently. 'They meant that he broke this morning.' At their looks of non-comprehension of the term 'broke,' he added, 'That is, he told them everything.'

Uh-oh.

'But don't we still need to look for him?' asked Joy as they reached the stairway and started down.

Malachi paused and looked upstairs. 'That will not be necessary,' said he.

~~~~~~~

Morgen flew downstairs - literally. With no eye to see him, he no longer needed to maintain his human guise. Wings spread, he pressed on with all speed, zooming down the stairs.

Then, as he reached a certain landing, he slowed. A tattoo of rapid footbeats was just ahead of him. And a girlish voice floated up.

'...still need to look for him?'

A deeper and very familiar voice replied, 'That will not be necessary.'

Yes. Without bothering to adopt human form again - or visibility - Morgen caught them up. Walker is rescued; we must leave now, he told his confrere.

Yes, I am taking these little ones to the cave even now. I will return as I am able to help evacuate the rest, Malachi responded.

In the Master's will, Morgen replied and swept onward, downward. He neither slowed nor stopped as he reached the ground-level where Lucy and her companions were, but continued on to the next floor below that. Maccabees must be informed now, that he might join in aiding their assignments to escape.

Again, Morgen wasted no time on assuming a shape that Maccabees did not need to see. It is time, he said. Walker is rescued.

Ah, that is what I sensed, Mac replied.

But he told all he knows this morning before his rescue. The enemy knows all that he knows, and is moving against our people even now.

Then we must evacuate them.

Yes, said Morgen. I will continue on downstairs to aid the two teams down there. You will...

With permission? Maccabees interrupted.

Yes?

If I may, I would request that I go downstairs to aid the final two teams down there.

Morgen registered surprise for a moment, but only for a moment. Very well, said he. Then I will return to the ground level to bring out Lucy and her companions.

And so they parted, each to his work.

~~~~~~~

While Malachi hurried Joy and Talitha down the stairs. They did have an advantage, he knew, for the girls were not where they were supposed to be. The guards would be looking for them either on the level downstairs where Talitha lived, or on the level upstairs where she and the others of her level were taken daily to, ah, work. But as they were in neither of those places, they would be harder to find.

However...

They also had a disadvantage, for they were now on the stairs. And in order for the guards to spread throughout the fortress to ferret out the six teams, the guards would no doubt soon be...

There. A sound above their heads in the stairwell, of a door opening and of many feet - a cacophony of feet - rushing onto the stairs like a flood.

'The guards are coming!' gasped Joy.

'Hurry on,' counseled Malachi. 'And be not afraid.'

Urgency gave their feet wings. Down, down, down the stairs they went. Incredibly, as fast as they were going, the noise of the guards behind them seemed to be catching them up! Panting, the girls ran faster. They were nearing a door now; if only they could reach it, then they could get off the stairs and let the troops go on by...

And then Talitha tripped. Sure-footed Talitha! Her hands flew out, trying to catch herself as she fell.

When something else caught her fall. Or someone else. Somehow, Malachi's arms surrounded her, setting her back on her feet. With a wordless nod she thanked him, collecting herself to run on. But that break in the rhythm of their descent now threatened to cost them dearly.

For here came the guards.

~~~~~~~

Joy had turned as Talitha began to fall, looking up the stairs towards her two companions behind her. And now with horror she glimpsed the first of many feet coming into view beyond them. At the same moment, she saw Malachi push Talitha back against the wall. His other arm swung out, shoving her up against the wall as well, pressing both girls out of the path of the guards, protecting both from being trampled by the on-rushing stampede of guards.

And stampede it was. Joy would not have believed there were so many guards in the entire fortress! Running, jostling, leaping down the stairs. Fierce faces, angry faces. Dozens, scores of faces.

And none of them saw the three companions on the stairs? How weird was that?

From the corner of her eye, Joy could see Talitha off to her left and a stair or two higher, also puzzled that no one was noticing them. Malachi stood between them, arms out-spread, shielding them with his...

Hey! Joy peered closer. Since when did Malachi have wings? Or... were those wings? Or was she seeing things? For though she could see the shining of an outline of something bright and vaguely feathery in front of her, between her and the guards, she also saw the guards quite plainly through the brightness before her. What was this?

And... suddenly she realized this was not the first time today she'd seen such a thing. Upstairs, when the two guards had opened the door in their faces and then walked past them without any recognition of them being there... Yes! She hadn't noticed it then but now she recalled - there had been something just like this then, something right between her and the guards, barely perceived.

What was going on?

~~~~~~~

The sound from above them was growing less, and the mass of guards thinning down. A little longer, and there were only a few still coming into view from above - fewer still - then none. Malachi did not relax just yet though, and the three of them waited through another two or three minutes before he slowly dropped his arms and nodded. 'It is now safe,' he said softly.

'What did you do?' asked Joy.

'And how did you do that?' added Talitha.

'Ask me later,' he replied. 'When you are safe, and well away from here. Come.'

They fled on, still going downward. Now that the guards were ahead of them, they needed to be careful not to blunder into them. Joy had long since lost track of which floor they were on. She knew they needed to get off at the ground-level, but where was it? They especially didn't want to go too far and have to backtrack up the stairs again.

'You know where we are?' she asked Talitha.

But the tall girl shook her head. She had lost track too.

'Come,' said Malachi. Reaching a door, he laid his hand to the knob and his ear to the door itself. 'It is quiet beyond - for the moment. Stay close to me.'

Crowding in, the two girls followed him through the door. Corridors, as in all the levels where the prisoners were kept, ran off to one side. Off to the other side, beyond an open space - Joy didn't remember any open spaces in the lower levels - was a door. But between the stairway and that door there was another door. And as she looked at it, Joy remembered it.

Pointing, she whispered, 'That's where we came in.'

Malachi nodded. 'And it is where we will go out too. Come.'

'But...' she began. That door had been guarded when they came in; she remembered Forest telling how he had bluffed his way past the guard. So shouldn't there be a guard there now?

A clatter over that way. Oh yes, there was the guard. No, three guards. The two were standing ramrod straight, looking to the third, who was apparently giving them orders. And now the third turned away and went through that other door, leaving the two guards to block the back door, the door that Malachi was leading them towards.

As they drew closer to the guards - perhaps it was a trick of the light, thought Talitha, but suddenly Malachi looked massive. As if he had doubled in width. Or as if he had grown... wings?

The girls jammed together behind him, trying to look small. Somehow they had not been seen in the corridor upstairs, and again on the stairs. Would they escape notice yet a third time?

Malachi led them right up to the guards. Just as they got there, one guard's eyes narrowed, and he gave a hiss to his companion. 'Hey!'

'Hey what? You wanna get us in trouble, talking on duty?'

'Hey, I thought of something. Major Tweeg there - strike you he was acting funny?'

A snort. 'He's an officer. They all act funny.'

'Yeah, but - how come he went into the Day Room there?'

'What's wrong with him going into the Day Room? You gonna second-guess officers? You want a vacation in the deepest dungeon?'

'Ain't you forgetting? Three days ago, when all that troop came back from chasing these intruders round the valley - what was wrong with 'em?'

A shrug. 'They was blind.'

'Aye, blind! Them intruders can mess with a bloke's eyesight.' Leaning closer and jerking his head towards the Day Room door, the first guard muttered, 'What's to say they ain't been messing with our eyesight? Eh?'

The second guard gawped at him. 'What, you mean the major? You think he's one of them?'

'Tell me he ain't.'

The second guard frowned. And then the frown cleared off to be replaced with a crafty grin. 'You know, there's sure to be a reward for catching these intruders. And if we was to turn in one what was impersonating the major...'

They both guffawed. 'Let's get him!' they cried. And, abandoning their post, they bolted for the Day Room to get the 'imposter.'

'Quickly,' said Malachi as soon as the Day Room door closed behind the guards. And he did not have to tell the girls twice. In seconds they were through the door and out of the fortress. With Joy leading the way and Malachi shielding them from behind, the three sped away, glad to leave the dungeons behind them for good.

~~~~~~~

They made it across the plain to the mountain without incident. Here Malachi took the lead, searching out that same obscure path he had lead the group down - was it only three days ago?

Up they went, sometimes having to scramble through the underbrush, sometimes needing to grab on to trees to boost themselves up the barely-seen trail. Joy stole glances backwards every now and then - so did Talitha - but neither ever saw anyone following them.

Malachi, on the other hand, never looked back even once, but simply forged ahead, straight up the mountainside. The girls had to hurry to keep up with him.

'We're going to need to rest soon,' Joy finally told him. She could hear Talitha stoically gasping along beside her, and she herself was trying to ignore a nasty stitch building in her side.

'You will be able to rest very soon,' he replied. And suddenly he was no longer climbing the mountain, but leading them off to the left and a bit downhill. The pace he was setting was still faster than either of the girls would have liked, but at least they weren't climbing anymore.

'Are we almost there?'

'Almost, yes,' said Malachi. And then he stopped.

Talitha looked around, but there was nothing to see. Shrugging, she asked, 'Where are we?'

'Joy?' Malachi prompted.

She too shrugged. She had been here before, but even she saw nothing out of the ordinary - nothing that told her, 'Here is the cave you stayed in before.'

Malachi nodded. 'Good. You cannot even see it when it is right here before you.' And sweeping a section of dangling ivy tendrils to one side, he ushered the two young women into the cave beyond. 'Rest now,' he added. 'I will return soon.'

'But where are you going?' said Joy, surprised.

'You're not going back, are you?' added Talitha.

'To help the others evacuate, yes,' said Malachi. 'Wait here for them, and do not be afraid. I will rejoin you shortly.'

'Oh, but, Malachi...!' started Joy. Only to find herself talking to the swinging curtain of ivy, for Malachi was already gone. 'Oh, no,' she sighed. 'I really needed to ask him something.'

'What?' asked Talitha.

'It's just,' Joy replied, 'when they said that Walker told the guards everything,' and she looked up at her tall new friend, her own eyes troubled and anxious, 'I just wonder: did that mean he told them about this cave as well?'

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 3, chapter 19 - 'the rescue of walker'

2006-02-24T11:31:00.000-06:00

Meanwhile...

'Walker.' Stephen barely breathed the word. But beside him, Jack winced. Would the guards hear what he'd said?

Yep. Instantly, every man among the guards turned to look their way. Frowning, squinting, puzzled. As if they had heard the sound, but couldn't make out the source of it.

Morgen continued to stand steadfastly between his companions and the guards, blocking the guards' view of Jack and Stephen behind him. But, Jack thought, that didn't make sense; even if the guards couldn't see the two of them, surely they could see Morgen?

They didn't act like they could see Morgen. Squaring his shoulders, the leader of the guards moved forward now cautiously, his head twisting to the side all the better to hear what he could not see. With a wave of his hand, he called forward a few more of the guards, all of them creeping closer, their eyes roving madly to make sense of what they had heard.

'Be ready,' Morgen said softly to his companions behind him. 'And be not afraid.' Strangely, though Jack and Stephen heard him plainly, the guards coming their way gave no sign of hearing Morgen's words at all.

Jack gave a tight nod and stepped up a bit, maneuvering Stephen still more to the rear of their small group. He deeply wished that there was a weapon for their new friend to wield as well - but even if they had a sword for Stephen, he'd never been trained to use one. Would having a weapon he didn't know how to use do Stephen any good against this bunch of tough brutes they were facing?

The guards crept closer, closer still, glancing now and again at each other in confusion. Less than ten feet away now, and they still plainly could not see anyone ahead of them.

Yet.

'Now,' said Morgen. He stepped forward, swinging his sword. The lead guard had only the breadth of a heartbeat to register the shock on his face as suddenly this huge warrior appeared and attacked him, before his head went spinning from his shoulders to land far down the corridor, near Walker's feet.

For a split second, everyone on both sides stood frozen, stunned. Then Jack gave a blood-curdling yell and charged.

~~~~~~~

Stephen hung back, watching, as Morgen and Jack waded into the guards. Swords flashed, whips lashed, cudgels whooshed and thudded. Morgen in particular seemed to have a dozen arms as he took out guard after guard. Curiously, every so often he reversed his blade and coshed a guard over the head with the hilt, felling him. But mostly Morgen simply took the guards apart.

Jack, on the other hand, while fighting hard as well, seemed to be very careful not to kill anyone. And while Morgen was cutting a swath through the main body of the guards, Jack was more focused on getting to Walker.

And soon he did. There were only a few guards left now, and two of them were flanking the prisoner. One of those two sprang forward to engage Jack, whip flicking and cracking. It was hard for Jack to close with him, to reach him with his sword at all. Laughing, the guard pressed Jack backwards, the whip dancing like a live thing. It caught Jack on the cheek, drawing blood, and the guard laughed all the more.

Determined, Jack stood his ground as the guard moved closer. The whip now caught at Jack's arm, ripping his sleeve. Jack flinched, but stood fast. Once again the whip lashed out, this time wrapping itself round Jack's sword hand. The guard howled with glee as he pulled back hard, intending to rip the flesh from Jack's bones.

Except...

Except that, with a twist of his wrist, Jack had already deftly sliced the whip through. The guard staggered backwards, barely keeping his feet as Jack rushed on him. Using both hands, Jack swung the sword, whacking the guard in the side of the head with the flat of his blade. The guard crumpled and lay still. Breathing hard, Jack now turned towards Walker.

'Not so fast,' rasped the remaining guard, cursing Jack with some choice epithets. 'One step more, and he's dead.' The guard had the hapless Walker by the hair, pulling his head backwards to expose his neck. And this guard, unlike most, was armed with steel. It was a dagger rather than a sword - but it was plenty enough weapon to kill Walker before Jack would be able to stop him.

'Now wait,' said Jack, spreading his arms. 'You don't want to do that.'

The guard barked a laugh at him. 'Don't I? You better believe I wanna kill him. Just watch!'

No! thought Stephen. For the guard pressed harder against Walker's neck, drawing blood. Also crying aloud, 'No!' Jack lunged forward as that first bead of blood appeared.

But Morgen was faster. Suddenly the arm that held the blade to Walker's neck was gone, slashed away at the elbow. And before that limb could hit the floor, the guard's head went flying as well.

And Walker? He collapsed.

~~~~~~~

Stephen went running for Walker's side, dodging amongst the bodies strewn throughout the hallway, slipping on - well, what his feet were slipping on, he really didn't want to think of just then. Jack had already reached Walker and had an arm under him, supporting him, by the time Stephen got there as well.

'Walker! Walker! Are you all right?' Stephen asked.

'Here,' said Morgen. He pressed a cloth into Stephen's hand, and he in turn pressed it to the wound on Walker's neck.

'Walker?' said Jack.

The man was dazed - understandably. But he was blinking. And breathing. His head was lolling, and Stephen used his free hand to steady it.

Then Walker's eyes focused on his face. 'Rob?' he whispered.

Stephen burst out grinning. 'Yeah! I mean, no. No, I'm Stephen now.'

'Ste... You got a new name? Then you met...'

'The Master, yes.'

'And he said for me to give you this,' added Jack. As Walker turned his eyes towards him, Jack held up the key that the Master had given him to restore to his son Walker. Briefly, Jack related the story of their search for him, the story of turning the fortress upside-down, all for the sake of finding Walker and setting him free.

And when Jack was done speaking, Walker only stared at him for a long moment. Then, receiving the key into his palm, he whispered, 'Thank you.'

Stephen had been holding that cloth firmly against Walker's neck all this time. Now, cautiously, he peeked under it to see how bad the damage was. 'Whew,' he said. 'Man, I thought that guy had really punctured you. But he just barely cut you. And it's hardly bleeding anymore.'

Gingerly, Walker lifted a hand to touch the wound. His other hand came up as well.

Oh yeah. Chains. Swiftly, Jack took back the key and used it to set Walker free from the heavy shackles. 'Let's get you up,' he added.

Walker wasn't the steadiest on his feet as they helped him to stand. The livid bruises they could see on his face spoke of many more bruises they couldn't see under his clothes. Still, now that the chains were gone, he seemed a good bit less dazed.

'We should go,' said Morgen.

'You need to know something first,' said Walker. 'I...' His eyes flickered. 'I tried to hold out. I really did. But...' And again his eyes flickered, till he could no longer meet anyone's gaze. 'I gave you up this morning. I told them everything.'

A ragged sob. 'I've betrayed you all!'

~~~~~~~

The very thing Stephen had feared, back when he was still Rob. Hearing Walker say it now, though...

'I wouldn't have lasted as long as you did,' he assured Walker. 'We all forgive you. We all understand.'

'And we all need to leave immediately,' said Morgen.

'Right,' said Jack. 'Just let me find something to clean my sword.' He glanced about. Did a double-take. Glanced about again. 'Uh - where did all the bodies go?'

It was a good question. The few that had been knocked unconscious were still sprawled about. But all those Morgen had killed; where were they? Only that last one, the one that had been threatening Walker with the dagger - here was his body in three pieces.

Oy! Even as Jack watched, the severed forearm inched over to the stump it had been cut from and joined itself back on to the elbow. And then the headless body rolled over, pawing the floor till it found its head. Picking that up, the body jammed the head back into its proper place. Then, turning to leer once more at the three companions, the reanimated guard abruptly vanished.

'What was that?' cried Stephen.

'That was what most of your captors are,' replied Morgen. 'A demon.'

'Demons!' Jack stared at him in comprehension now. 'I wondered why you were so ready to just kill them.'

'As you can see, I have killed no one.'

'Yeah. I see now. But how do you tell the difference?'

'When you look them in the eye, and see with the Master's sight, you will know,' said Morgen. 'But come, they will be sounding the alarm already. And as Walker says, they know where each of our teams will be, and the prisoner each team came to rescue.'

Again Walker hung his head.

'Then let's get out of here,' said Jack. 'Morgen, will you go warn the others, while we get Walker out?'

Morgen nodded. 'At once.' He turned and started for the stairs ahead of them.

Then paused. Swiftly unbuckling his sword belt, Morgen turned back and called, 'Walker. Here.' And he threw the belt to him.

For a moment it spun in the air there, belt and scabbard and sword in the scabbard. For a moment Walker stood looking up at it in wonder. And then he put up his hand and caught it. He stared at it in his hands, stunned to be holding such a weapon once more. Then he looked up at Morgen. 'But now you're unarmed,' he protested.

Morgen shrugged it off. 'Use it well,' said he. And then he vanished down the stairs.

'C'mon,' added Jack. And the three of them followed.

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 3, chapter 18 - 'meanwhile...'

2006-02-17T00:50:00.000-06:00

'This way,' said a determined Lucy, her hand already on the hilt of her sword. Rose's door snicked shut behind them as Lucy turned to the left, heading for the stairway and what lay beyond it.

'No, this way!' Linda hissed urgently, grabbing Lucy's arm and trying to run in the opposite direction.

'No...' groaned Lucy, pulling back against Linda's tugging. But she was hearing the same thing Linda had just heard: the ominous sound of the stairway door opening and of many voices spilling through it, and many feet.

The guards. The guards were coming. Lucy and Linda had to hide.

'Rose's room,' breathed Lucy, trying to shrug off Linda's grasp as she fumbled to find her key in a hurry.

'No time,' Linda responded. 'The closet!'

'But...'

But there was no time left for but's. They ran because they had to, trying to keep their footfalls soft as they did so. Linda reached the closet door first and wrenched it open, and Lucy pushed her inside and yanked it shut behind them both.

And footsteps echoed into the corridor beyond the door. The two women huddled in the closet floor in the dark and silently prayed.

Time passed. It might have been all morning for all they knew; there was no way to tell how long they hid there as the corridors outside buzzed with activity. Gradually the voices beyond the door died away, finally settling into silence.

'Do we go now?' whispered Linda.

'I think so,' Lucy replied. But, oh! she wished they could have followed Rose before the guards had shown up! 'It's going to be really crowded now,' she muttered to herself. 'With our swords and packs, we're sure to draw attention.'

'We could leave the swords and packs here,' answered Linda. 'Or drop them off in Rose's room, now that the way is clear.' And then she added, 'Crowded? Crowded where? I don't hear a soul stirring out there now.'

'Crowded in the Day Room,' said Lucy.

'The where?'

But Lucy's mind was back on the other part of the conversation. 'Not sure what we should do about the packs,' she said, 'but the swords - very likely we'll need those. Also, we likely haven't a moment to spare, since there's no telling what's happening with Rose just now... No, we need to just go find her, and take the packs with us.'

But,' said Linda as she struggled to her feet, 'what's this Day Room?'

Lucy only shushed her in reply as she laid an ear to the door. Satisfied, she cautiously cracked it open. 'Looks safe,' said she.

'And the Day Room?' Linda prompted once more.

A sigh. '... is where the people of this level spend their days, of course. It's over there, beyond the stairs. One vast room, with lots of smaller rooms all round the edges. I used to think that a particular one of those smaller rooms was where the Committee held its meetings. And if I'm right, and if things haven't changed since I left here - that's where I expect we'll find Rose.'

'Fair enough,' said Linda. 'Lead the way.'

They passed through the empty corridors quickly enough. Soon they passed the stairway door as well. Beyond that, to their right, they saw the back door of the fortress, the one Forest had bluffed their way in through. And to their left...

Linda frowned. Had that door been there before? She didn't remember having seen it till now. Muffled sounds - merriment? - spilled out at them from the other side of it.

'The Day Room?' she mouthed to Lucy. And received a nod in reply.

Nodding as well, Linda made ready to draw her sword if need be; Lucy was doing the same. For a brief moment Lucy paused, considering which would be the greater element of surprise: to crash the doors and come in noisily, or...

Or to do it this way. Laying a hand on the doorknob, she turned the unlocked latch and went in.

Noise assaulted them. Not raucous noise, to be sure - not an earth-shaking din - but a greater level of sound than the pair of them had heard in days. The lighting was brighter here than what they had grown accustomed to, so that they squinted at first and had trouble making out their surroundings.

One large room, as Lucy had said. Many, many tables scattered through it, accommodating an impressive array of Ginger look-alikes, all dripping with pearls and fine jewelry and expensive clothing. They sat at their tables or mingled among them, like so many little girls playing tea party, all of them laughing their brittle little laughs and looking wise and grand and gracious. Linda's stomach churned just looking at them.

None of them were looking at her. Or at least, not yet. Lucy eased the door shut behind them and gestured off to their left. Linda followed as they skirted the edge of the room, passing by the many parties in progress, trying for their part to look invisible.

They almost succeeded.

'Carol!' piped an irritatingly nasal voice.

'Oh, never,' said a second. 'She disappeared long ag...' A gasp. 'Carol!'

Great. Lucy studiously ignored the two voices, pushing on past them and their friends at tea, hoping that if she didn't respond, the women would conclude that she wasn't Carol after all.

'Carol!' sprang up yet another voice. And still another, 'Carol, dear! Why, it can't be!'

Go with that thought, she muttered inside her head as she pressed on. They had nearly reached the small room she suspected Rose had been taken to. How they would get in there now without being noticed, Lucy hadn't a clue. Maybe...

'Carol!' And this time a determined hand caught her shoulder and swung her around. She found herself looking into the eyes of...

Her heart sank. Not one of the silly highly cultured women who might fear to break a nail, but the steely face of a guard.

She drew herself up, facing him squarely. 'What do you want?' she demanded.

'You. For disturbing the peace,' he replied. He wrapped a beefy hand round her upper arm and began to steer her ahead of him. And before Lucy could finish the thought of, At least Linda will get away, the guard glanced at her as well and added, 'And you! You're not from this level. Trespassing!' Grasping Linda's arm as well, the guard propelled both women through the stunned crowd towards a doorway not many steps further on. Not having a free hand to knock at the door with, the guard used the toe of his boot to do his knocking. 'Open up!' he ordered.

The door cracked open and a frowning face peered out at him. 'Please!' said a stilted, dignified voice. 'Court is in session.'

'And I have here two more prisoners for your court to try,' the guard replied. He thrust the pair through the door, rapidly jabbed a finger at each and repeated the charges against them, then disappeared back through the door and vanished.

Leaving all in the room stunned. Rose, her arms shackled together in front of her, gaped at the two of them. The judge, sitting on a high bench above the rest, did the same. As did the remaining members of the Committee wedged into this room, acting as prosecutor and jury members and spectators. They were so shocked, they might as well have been statues.

Lucy recovered first. Realizing that the guard who brought them here had neither shackled them nor disarmed them, she brashly drew her sword and leveled it at the presiding judge. 'We'll just be taking our friend now and be on our way,' said Lucy.

'Um,' said Linda beside her. 'Maybe not...'

~~~~~~~

Meanwhile...

Five times he nearly turned back to the little cell where Starr was waiting for him, praying for him. It was so hard, being down here. Stone was constantly having to avert his eyes from the sort of things Starr had been turning her thoughts away from imagining. Worse, roaming about down here, scanning faces for anyone that might be interested in getting out, was giving him flashbacks to the old days of prowled about down here, looking for...

Ugh! He shook his head violently, trying to scatter from his mind those awful thoughts. But like a flock of unclean birds, they only swooped in to take roost in his head once more.

Oh yeah - he was forgetting something.

Master, Stone prayed softly. Here. I take these thoughts captive and hand them over to you. And inside his head, to his amusement, he saw himself casting a net over the whole flock of thoughts, bundling them up, then placing the whole mass of it into a very large hand where - whoosh! - it all instantly puffed into ashes and blew away.

Whew.

Now - to look again. Stone walked on, slowly, again scanning faces. But now his sight was so much clearer as he looked on the men around him.

No - not on them, not on the outside appearance, but on... hearts? And not the physical beating hearts either. But... motives - desires - thoughts, intents. What he was seeing seemed so strange to him that he wanted to shake his head clear again. But he didn't. Was this how the Master saw people?

And then Stone spotted him. Sitting alone, apart, heart broken, spirit broken. Hardly more than a kid.

Stone walked up softly. 'Can I help?'

The kid nearly jumped through the wall he was slumped against. 'Who are you?' he squeaked. 'Don't hurt me!'

'I'm Stone. I won't hurt you.' And again, 'Can I help?'

'No one can help. I'm gonna die here. They already nearly killed me,' he swept a hand at the crowds of prisoners round about, 'over and over again. If I stay here much longer, they will kill me.' His eyes were so wide and pain-filled.

This is it; this is the one, Stone thought gladly. 'Let me tell you about the Master,' he began.

When suddenly a hand closed on his shoulder, spinning him about. Boozy breath wafted into his face, all but gagging him. 'Hey, hey, hey! Mitch, ol' buddy, ol' pal! Where the he...' a belch interrupted the curse word, 'you been all this time? Ain't seen you in ages!'

'Um, hi there, uh, Butch,' said Stone. 'I, uh...'

'Here, have a belt,' said the drunk, shoving a sloshing mug into Stone's chest. 'Hey, guys!' he added to the crowd at large, 'look who's here! It's ol' Mitch!'

'I, um, really don't want...' said Stone, trying to dislodge the mug without taking a soaking from it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the kid backing off furtively, trying to disappear before anyone but Stone could notice him. Man, and he didn't even have a chance to ask the kid his name...!

'C'mon, Mitch ol' buddy, take it!' Butch ordered, shoving the mug so hard into Stone's chest that Stone was sure he now had a bruise there. The man's booze-bleared eyes narrowed suspiciously. 'Whazza matter, Mitch. Doncha wanna drink with me no more?'

Not really, no - but Stone figured it wouldn't be a good idea to say that out loud. The kid had disappeared now and he had no idea where or how to find him again. Sighing, he looked again into Butch's face...

...and read danger there. 'Hey, guys!' the drunk hollered. 'Something's wrong with our ol' buddy Mitch. He won't drink with us. What's up with that?'

'And look!' cried someone. 'He's wearing a sword!'

That tore it. With an oath, Butch flung down the mug, sending amber liquid spewing in all directions. 'He's one of them! One of the traitors! Traitor!'

Suddenly the cry was echoing all about Stone. 'Traitor! Traitor!' Ripping their clothes, howling like mad animals, the crowd pressed towards him. To Stone's eyes, they looked for all the world like a great hundred-armed creature, reaching out to grab him and tear him to pieces.

Guessing his time of favor was passed, Stone did the first thing he thought of. He ran.

~~~~~~~

Meanwhile...

The dark was too comprehensive, and the reek foul. With the only illumination being the oily non-light coming off the torches, there were times when Seth could barely see Forest and James walking just ahead of him.

And there were also times when he really would have preferred not to see anything. For what he could see, in those few moments of clarity, was dark and twisted. Depraved.

I thought where I was, was bad, Seth told himself. Hel... I mean, heck... I thought where Stone is, is bad. But this...!

From the darkness forward of him to his left, he heard the tzhing of a sword being drawn. A second later, the same sound sang from forward of him to the right as well.

'You guys think you're gonna need to use them swords?' Seth whispered.

'Pretty likely, yeah,' Forest replied softly.

They went on. Ahead of them they began to make out a black vertical line of division. To the right of that line, all darkness; to the left of it, a deep and sullen reddish glow, gradually growing stronger.

It took a moment to make sense of it. Then James said, 'It's a corner. Wall on the right.'

'And a fire beyond the corner,' Forest finished.

'Check it out, buddy,' James said to the boy. And while James and Seth hung back, Forest slipped forward, flattened against the corner, glanced round it.

Then came back. 'It's a fire, all right. Big one, like a bonfire. Lots of people standing round it. Not sure what they're do...'

A shriek of horror split the air just then. 'Nooooooo. No, you can't! I'm loyal! I never went against the People once, not even in my thoughts!'

'Count it the ultimate honor then,' a second voice cut in, as oily as the lights.

Now many voices joined. Chanting. The words were impossible to make out. And over that, the second voice, laughing great oily laughter. While woven through it all, that first voice echoed out, still shrieking, shrieking.

Then the shrieking stopped, suddenly, as if cut off by a... knife? At the same moment, the chanting reached a frenzy. And the fire-glow leaped up, as if in a frenzy of its own.

'What can they be doing?' said James, not bothering to keep his voice low. Both he and Forest bolted for the corner, Seth a reluctant step behind them. They looked, and they saw...

The crowd of people, leaping, dancing, encircling the great bonfire, jumping and rejoicing. A tall man bearing a staff stood on a platform off to one side, holding his arms aloft, his laughter resounding over the crackling of the fire.

The fire. Squinting, the three companions gazed at the fire. Something about that fire seemed very, very wrong. Something was moving there, in the heart of the fire - and it wasn't just the flames.

In fact, something was falling down there in the fire. Part of it rose up again, a part that looked like, like...

Like an arm! It lifted momentarily, clawing at the flames. Then dropped to rise no more, fully ablaze.

'The ultimate honor,' James whispered in horror. 'My God, they sacrificed that poor guy. They burned him alive!'

'Man,' Forest growled, his face ashen in the red glow. 'If we'd only figured out what they were doing a couple of minutes earlier, we coulda rescued that guy. But now we're too late.'

'Too late?' boomed a voice that was none of the companions'. 'Oh, on the contrary - you're right on time!'

The man on the platform. He was turned now towards the three, pointing with his staff at them. The crowd turned to look at them, then began to surge forward, coming after them.

Forest brought up his sword immediately, and James a half-second later. Seth cracked his knuckles and joined the line with them. Sword or no sword, a fight he understood!

But there was no fight. Without warning, from behind, while their attention was on the crowd in front of them - nets suddenly spun over them. And then ropes snapped around them as well. Before any of the three could do a thing about it, they were all trussed up and their weapons stripped from them.

The ambushing guards, laughing among themselves, knocked all three over and dragged them along by the ropes, yanking them over to the platform where the tall man towered over all, grinning evilly. 'Let's see what we got here,' he crowed. 'Haul them up here!'

The guards did just that, delighted to bounce the three men's heads on the stairs as they pulled them up before the leader with the staff. A long scar creased the leader's cheek; evil fairly pulsed from his eyes. His arms were thick like the limbs of trees. His head was unnaturally large as well. Devoid of hair and highly domed, it looked rather like the shape of a...

A growl boiled forth from the largest of the three nets. 'Melonhead!' yelled Seth. 'This is where you went! Malorn!'

Scowling savagely, the tall man smashed his staff into Seth's head. The big guy's yelling voice stopped abruptly. And the blood flowed.

~~~~~~~

Meanwhile...

The door was opening right in their faces, and Joy and Talitha had nowhere and no time to hide. Joy's hand reached for her sword only to be arrested far short of drawing it; Talitha had clutched at Joy's arm in a death-grip, and then the taller girl had gone petrified.

The door swung open to reveal guards - two of them. Apparently they didn't see the girls at first, for the one in front was partly turned away so he could speak to the one following him.

'...finally spilled his guts this morning,' he was saying, 'and it's bad. They're all over the place, and the Boss wants them rounded up pronto. You'll need...'

The girls just stood there, waiting for the two guards to grab them. The two guards just went right on talking.

And walking. They stepped out of the room, pulled the door shut behind them and then, with one of them passing to the right of the girls and the other to the left, the two continued their conversation as they walked on down the corridor and rounded the nearest corner, out of sight.

What? Joy and Talitha turned to stare at each other. How had that happened?

'Be not afraid,' said a low voice directly in their ears. 'But come; it is now time to go.'

~~~~~~~

Meanwhile...

Mac stiffened. Somewhere, down there, below his feet - bad things were happening. While at the same time he knew, up there, high above his head - things were changing.

It was time to be ready. And Beatriz wasn't.

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

Storyblogging Carnival XXXVIII

2006-02-13T01:18:00.000-06:00

Welcome to Storyblogging Carnival XXXVIII, the carnival that almost got hijacked by funny smells from my computer. Seven entries this time. We have some new chapters to continuing stories that we've already been tracking in the SBC, as well as some new stand-alone offerings from favorite authors who have been featured here before. We also have the beginning of a new story from an author we haven't seen here in quite a while.

And now, the carnival...

~~~

Mark A. Rayner of 'the skwib' gives us Thag not grok god!. 600 words, rated PG 13. In this installment of our favorite caveman, Thag and the shaman have a religious debate. An absolute hoot!

~~~

Peace Moonbeam of The Peace Moonbeam Chronicles offers American Gulag. 633 words, rated PG. Once again, Peace Moonbeam assures us that this is 'a stupid story, poorly written.' And once again, she delivers a story that will have you in tears with laughter.

~~~

Dave Gudeman of Doc Rampage brings us a new chapter of Ink Magic. This is part 8, and adds 768 words to his 15,306-word work in progress. Rating is PG. In this part, the story takes a darker turn and we learn a bit more about how Steven's father was exiled. Doc had been on holiday lately, so I was very glad that he stepped up with more Ink Magic. I've been rather bugging him for more, as he can tell you...

~~~

Donald S. Crankshaw of Back of the Envelope presents The Coup, Chapter 17 of 'Fire.' (The entire story can be found here.) 4,440 words out of a total of 90,110. Rating: PG-13. Gar's past returns to haunt him as chaos erupts among the invading Orcs. More surprises in a story that has been full of surprises.

~~~

Ben Schumacher of Zeroth Order Approximation has Part I of The Pasadena Rule. 6650 words; rated PG for occasional moderate profanity. Ben says: This is a science fiction novella about a crisis during the human
exploration of Venus. A gripping story.

~~~

Here at 'tales by sheya', yours truly has posted chapter 16 and chapter 17 of 'the child' (first chapter here). This adds 6871 words to my 124,729-word work in progress. Rating is somewhere around PG. In these chapters, Starr get a bit stubborn because of a dream... and then the third day in the dungeons begins, with cliff-hangers galore.

~~~

Andrew Ian Dodge of Dodgeblogium has the next two chapters of Britannia Revived up. Chapter 23 & 24 add 10,166 words, with a rating of PG 13 for language. As Andrew puts it, the saga continues apace... And really, it never lets up.

~~~

And that's the carnival for this fortnight. Hope you enjoy the stories. Please spread the word about Storyblogging, link to the carnival, and if you'd like to host it for yourself, let us know.

the child, part 3, chapter 17 - 'the third day begins'

2006-02-10T01:35:00.000-06:00

***rewrite 25 apr 06 - towards the end, about Stephen losing his key***

Long before the guards - or security, as Rose called them - came around to unlock the doors for the morning, she, Lucy, and Linda were already up. 'What do you plan to do today?' Rose asked the others as she rummaged through her closet to find something to put on. Hmph, she added under her breath. It's all so gaudy - what would the Master want me to wear?

'I really don't know what we'll be doing today,' Lucy replied. She slipped behind the privacy screen in the corner of Rose's room to change. Both she and Linda had washed out the mire-stained dresses they had worn during their brief stay in the deepest dungeon, hanging the dresses up behind the screen to dry. Now Lucy changed out of her only other dress and back into this one, then set about hand-washing the one she'd just taken off.

'I hope Mac comes by,' said Linda. 'He might could tell us what we're supposed to be doing now.' Mac had shown up yesterday to fulfill his promise to help them finish searching their level. And Lucy, bless her heart, had obeyed the Master's order to her and apologized to Mac. Mac accepted the apology very graciously, and then the three of them had finished checking the floor for Walker.

They had found no trace of him - of course. Rose had suspected all along that they wouldn't; with her Committee connections, she was sure that if he had been brought to this level, she would have heard of him right away.

And so the question for the day was, now that their part of the search for Walker was concluded, and now that Ginger had become Rose - what were they to do?

Lucy finished washing the dress and hung it up to dry. Coming out from behind the privacy screen, she found that Rose was standing there, a bundle of clothes in her arms. 'Oh! I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long,' said Lucy.

'Not at all, my dear,' Rose replied. She still had that redolence of nobility about her; it just came naturally to her.

Lucy crossed behind the bed to strap on her sword and shrug on her pack. Might as well be ready, even if she had no idea what to be ready for. Linda, she saw, was straightening up the bedroom, folding and putting away the blankets - basically obliterating all evidence that Rose was entertaining company in her room. Good. She and Linda had slept on pallets made of blankets on the floor behind Rose's bed, hidden from the view of the window in the door in case anyone might peek in.

'Do you have any ideas what we should do?' Lucy asked Linda.

Linda only shook her head.

'I've thought about perhaps just taking Rose and leaving,' Lucy went on. 'You know, going on up to the cave and waiting there for the others, as Forest said we might. Other than that,' she shook her head, 'I suppose we might go upstairs, as Mac said Jack and Morgen plan to do today. I just don't like the idea of taking off somewhere with none of our people knowing where we will be.'

'Could leave a message with Rose,' offered Linda.

'True... But she doesn't know the others. She wouldn't know who to trust.'

Linda went on straightening things, then suddenly pulled open the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a pad of paper. 'You could leave a note,' she remarked.

That was a thought. Lucy took the paper and sat down on the edge of the bed, thinking what to say.

'Linda, dear, I believe it's your turn now.'

They both looked up at Rose. And Linda breathed a quiet 'wow' once again.

It was amazing. Rose looked almost entirely different from the blaze-of-glory first impression she had made on Linda a day and a half ago. She was all simplicity now - and simplicity became her. Her hair was held back from her face with a plain headband, her fingers and neck stripped of the elaborate display of wealth from before. And her dress, a muted antique blue, was the least ostentatious item that she could find in her closet.

'You look great,' said Lucy.

Rose fingered the skirt of her dress. 'Isn't this nice? Linen, like the other dress the Master dressed me in. I don't even remember having this one...'

Linda left them to their chattering as she gathering her things and disappeared behind the privacy screen to dress. She rather liked the idea of having a place out of sight from the door to be able to change clothes. Down where she had been before - and it was the same throughout most of the dungeon - there had been no privacy whatsoever. Down there, it was mandatory that all areas of the cell be visible from the window in the door. Being the upper-crust certainly did have its advantages, she thought to herself.

Like Lucy before her, she exchanged the dress she was wearing for the one she had washed, then set about washing this one out. It was enjoyable, watching the way the color came back into it as the grime of the months of travel rinsed away.

Suddenly, without the least warning, there came the hammering of a fist on the cell door. Behind the screen, Linda froze. What...?

A moment later she heard the cell door spring open and a voice declare, 'Ginger! You are summoned to stand before the Committee and give account of your actions!'

Rose's voice stammered in reply, 'I... I... what? My actions?'

The voice - it was impossible for Linda to make out whether it was male or female - continued: 'You stand accused of welcoming the company of undesirables. You, Ginger, will give account and accept your punishment!'

'But I...' said Rose.

And that was all she got to say. Brief sounds of a struggle broke out, then came the slamming of the door. And that was all. Stunned, Linda craned her ears to listen, but heard nothing more. Eyes hollow, she turned and stared at the screen that walled her off from the rest of the room, her mind whirling, near to panic. What were they doing with Rose? And where was Lucy? Had she been taken too? Was... was there perhaps a guard left out there in the room, waiting to capture her as well?

For a moment longer she stood there, frozen by indecision. Then, reasoning that it was better to move and risk being caught than to stand here forever, Linda peeked out.

The room was empty.

Swallowing with a dry mouth, she called out, 'Gin-Rose? Lucy?'

Silence replied.

And then there came a rustling from beyond the bed. Lucy crept out, looking every bit as shocked as Linda felt.

'What happened?' said Linda, hurrying over to help Lucy to her feet.

'I... The door was opening, and I... I just bounced off the side of the bed and landed behind it.' And before Linda could congratulate her on her quick thinking, Lucy cried out, 'Oh, Linda, what a coward I am! I hid myself, and I let them take Rose away!'

Linda revised her opinion: Lucy looked far more shocked than she felt. The woman was all but ashen.

'Where did they take her? I mean, they said before the Committee, but where is that?'

'No one is supposed to know,' said Lucy. She blinked, then blinked again. And then the life started to come back into her eyes as she said, 'But I think I have a fairly good idea. If things are still much like they used to be before...'

Squaring her shoulders, Lucy added, 'Come on.'

And as they unlocked the door and slipped out into the corridor, Linda reflected: they didn't have to wonder anymore what they would be doing this day. But it was a pity now that they hadn't taken Rose and gotten her away to the cave while they'd had the chance.

~~~~~~~

Down in the deepest belly of this fortress, it was morning. Stone knew it was morning, because the bedlam of guards rousting out the prisoners was assaulting his ears. Groaning, the man stretched out his arms, working the kinks out of his spine. It wasn't easy, sleeping while sitting up and leaning against the wall. But since the alternative was lying down to sleep in the mire...

Before going to sleep the night before, he had stuck the candle stub into his pocket so he could find it again quickly when he wanted it. Now he pulled it out and lit it. Its meager light spilled out, illuminating this tiny corner-world curtained off by that blanket. And there, on the other side of the stack of their packs - there was Starr, her head resting on the packs, still sleeping.

Poor kid, he thought. She's all worn out. He would have liked to just let her sleep, but...

Reaching over, he gave her shoulder a gentle shake. As she opened her eyes and tried to focus on his face, he asked her, 'How do you feel now, honey? How's your ankle?'

She sat up, coming all the way awake. She gave his question a bit of thought, then said, 'I don't know.'

'Well, let's try standing you up,' he answered. Getting up himself, he took her hand.

And it was a repeat of what had happened yesterday. She still couldn't put any weight on it.

They both sat back down. 'All right,' he said. 'That's what I wanted to know.'

'What?' asked she.

'Whether I could get you out today.'

'Stone, I really...'

'I know, hon,' he said. 'But hear me out. I did a lot of thinking this over during the night. And... well, Walker's not here. And there must be some purpose to our being down here in this dungeon. If you could walk, I would make you go upstairs - yes, I would! - to make sure you were save. As it is...' He sighed. 'Well, the only thing I know to do is get back out there and look for someone who wants out of this place.'

He paused. And when she made no protest, he added, 'Thank you.'

'For what?'

'For no 'I told you so's' - for no 'just go look in Solitary' - for no... pushing.'

Again she said nothing, only looked up at him with those great wide eyes.

'I know what you think, and the dream you had, dear,' he added. 'I know you believe he's the one we were sent to bring out. But - I can't go back there. I just... can't.' Another sigh. 'I mean, all I need is another kick in the head. You know?'

'Yes, Stone,' she said quietly.

'So,' he said. 'I'll be going out there now. And I really, really need you to be praying for me. Ok?'

'Yes, Stone,' she said again.

He leaned closer, looking her in the eye. 'Mad at me?'

'...no...' she said.

'Disappointed, then?'

Ah! Her eyes dropped. 'Maybe... But I wasn't going to say anything.'

'Little girl...' said he, touching her cheek. He saw the tears she was holding back. 'Maybe another time, with another team, the Master will break through to him and bring him out. I just don't see it happening now - and especially not with it being me. He just hates me too much.'

The tears came now, flowing out. Stone drew her close and held her. 'And you love him, honey. My little girl with the big huge heart.'

'It's not my heart,' she mumbled against his shoulder. 'It's the Master's.'

Again he yearned to kiss her. Cinching her a bit closer instead, he held her for a long long moment. Then let go. 'I'll be back,' he promised. 'You be praying.'

'Yes, dear. I will.'

He waited to a silent inner count, then said, 'I love you.'

At just the same moment as she was saying it to him! Her jaw dropped open as he chuckled madly. 'Gotcha,' he grinned.

And then he was off. She heard the sound of him unlocking the door, then closing it behind him. After a moment's thought, she picked up the candle and blew it out to save it for later. And then, into the darkness, she began to pray in words she did not know.

And then, softly, to sing them.

~~~~~~~

'Man, this is exciting!' whispered Seth. 'Sneaking out like this - prowling round the dungeons, dodging guards...'

'We're not doing it for the excitement,' Forest pointed out. 'We're doing it to find Walker.'

'Yeah, yeah, yeah,' Seth replied. 'But that don't mean it ain't exciting too.'

'Know anything about this level?' asked James. They had waited till after roll call to be reasonably sure no guards would be coming and going on the stairway and, having slipped away from the crowd of fighters, were now making their way downstairs to the next level below Seth's.

'What I know 'bout this level ain't a whole hel... a whole lot,' said Seth, catching himself in the middle there. With a shrug, he added, 'Now, there been a few times when these weird screams came echoing up outta the floor under our feet. And I mean weird. Liked to scared the sh... well, liked to scared something outta me.'

Forest scratched at his nose to cover up his grin. Old habits die hard, but Seth sure was trying his best to keep his mouth in check. It was when the boy glanced over and spotted James using the same excuse to hide his own grin, that Forest had to really fight not to laugh out loud.

Seth scowled. 'What's the matter with you two, covering your noses like that? You smell something?'

Forest was about to answer no when he realized that he was in fact smelling something. Phew, and something foul! And the closer they came to the door to the next level down, the stronger the smell became.

Except it wasn't just a smell anymore. It had already progressed to a stink, and was rapidly approaching stench.

'Feh!' said James. He took off his pack and pulled a cloth out of it to tie around his nose and mouth. 'Well, that's a little better,' he said, muffled. 'Wonder why, with all the times we've gone up and down these stairs, we never noticed this smell before?'

Forest did the same, finding also a cloth for Seth to use. Looking now rather like a trio of bandits, they gathered in front of the door.

'Smells like a couple dozen skunks that all got mad at the same time,' muttered Seth. 'Or else all died at the same time.'

Forest glanced at the big guy, but wasted no time on wondering how, in the dungeons, Seth would have ever come across any skunks. For the boy had recognized the nastiness now. 'Remember Jessie's house?' he said to James.

'The house that wasn't really hers? Yeah. Where you fought the demon.'

'...demon...!' said Seth.

Forest was nodding, pointing at the door before them. 'I smelled this same thing then,' he said. He met both of the others' eyes briefly, then reached out and opened the door.

A light that had more kinship with darkness met their gaze. And as they peered more deeply...

Seth let out an oath in spite of himself. 'We're going in there?'

Grimly, Forest loosen his sword in its sheath. 'For Walker's sake, yes, we are,' he said. And plunged in through the door.

James followed right on the boy's heels, and Seth reluctantly after them. And then the door, though no hands touched it, gave a shake and slammed itself shut behind them.

~~~~~~~

If Jack and Stephen had been shocked when the guards mistook Morgen for Stephen, imagine how the girls felt when the guards there mistook Malachi for Talitha! And what's more - Malachi seemed to know ahead of time that that was going to happen.

'Wait till everyone is taken upstairs,' he told Joy as they heard the guards coming down the corridor. 'Then follow. I will slip away and meet you.'

'Slip away? From where? Where are you going to be? It's Talitha who's going to need to slip away,' Joy objected. But Malachi only smiled in reply as he shouldered his pack and turned towards the door.

As it opened. A scowling guard looked in, jerked his head at Malachi, and said, 'Move it out here, Talia.'

And that was it. Malachi was gone, leaving the two girls standing stunned in Talitha's cell. 'Um,' whispered Talitha. 'What just happened?'

'I have no idea,' Joy replied. Heading for the door herself, she stood to one side, peering through the window, hoping to see without being seen as they waiting for roll call to be done.

Of course it took half of forever. Joy had to remind herself that there were well over three hundred cells here, all of which they had searched in the past couple of days. The girls waited endlessly as the head guard barking out name after name, and voice after voice called back 'Here.' It was so tedious; both of them yawned more than a dozen times, and Joy resorted to pinching herself to stay alert.

And then the guard yelled out, 'Talia!' And the deep voice of Malachi replied, 'Here.'

And Joy marveled. His voice was so un-Talitha-like! And yet - roll call went on. No one noticed a thing? Couldn't they see straight? Couldn't they hear?

The minutes dragged by, but then finally the order to 'Move out!' was given. Joy waved to Talitha then and the pair of them got ready to head out as well. Joy nervous fingered the key in her hand, waiting for everyone to be gone first before she slipped it into the lock.

And... There; that was the last of them. Nodding to her companion, Joy whispered, 'Let's go.'

They moved silently, reaching the stairway door and doing still more waiting before they dared to slip through it. The noise of many feet preceded them over their heads; they had to hold back and move slowly lest they overtake the crowd of prisoners. Joy found herself really hoping that no one else would decide that this would be a great time to come back downstairs.

On upwards they went, passing landing after landing. After a bit, Joy lost track of where they were. At the next door they reached she paused and glanced at Talitha. 'Here?' she whispered.

Shaking her head, Talitha pointed at the door and mimed stirring something, using both hands.

What? thought Joy, not comprehen... Oh... The laundry! And as Joy's face brightened in understanding, Talitha pointed upstairs and held up one finger. Yes, that's right, thought Joy. The barracks were one level up from here.

On they went. The noises ahead of them diminished as the prisoners reached the barracks level and plodded through the door. Joy and Talitha slowed still more, craning their heads upwards, watching and listening. Please, Joy thought, praying, please no guards coming back down again!

And then the door slammed and there was great silence. The girls looked at each other. How close should they follow now? With a shrug, Joy led the way on up.

At the landing, Joy glanced at Talitha; this was the right door this time, wasn't it? At the tall girl's nod, Joy leaned close and placed an ear to the door, listening. Were the others far enough ahead of them now for her to safely open the door? And now that she understood why Malachi had said he would slip away - where was he?

No sound beyond. Unlike the cell doors, the stairway doors didn't come with windows in them to peek through. Flexing her fingers nervously, Joy wrapped them round the door handle. Prayed a prayer both brief and earnest to the Master, she braced herself and opened the door.

Nothing. The corridor beyond was empty.

Whew. With an encouraging smile to Talitha, Joy led the way out of the stairs. But which way now?

Talitha pointed. 'Barracks are that way.'

'But do we want to go that way?' Joy whispered back.

Talitha looked around them. 'I don't know. But I don't think we want to just stand here in the hall.'

True. One more glance around, and Joy started off away from the barracks. There was no telling what was here on this level, she reasoned - but they were more likely to be able to search in solitude if they chose a place where the people weren't.

Swiftly they reached a closed door. Forgetting to listen first, Joy whispered, 'Let's start here,' and reached for the doorknob to unlock it.

Oh, but there was no need to do that. For the door abruptly opened in their startled faces.

~~~~~~~

In quiet and unseen, Mac was watching Beatriz. Watching, watching. Until he would know what he was to do next.

~~~~~~~

Stephen stopped in midstep. 'Did you hear something?'

Jack, just ahead of him on the stairs, paused as well. 'What did it sound like?' he whispered, both of them keeping their voices low. The last thing the pair of them wanted was to be heard. After all, the whole reason for sneaking upstairs like this was to find Walker, not to join him.

'Not sure,' Stephen replied. They waited, barely breathing, to see if the sound would come again.

Nothing.

After a minute or so, Jack shrugged. 'C'mon.'

But as they turned to continue up the stairs, Stephen clutched at the back of Jack's shirt. 'There!' he whispered.

Yeah. This time Jack heard it too.

'Footsteps, you think?' asked Stephen.

Jack frowned. 'Could be...' he muttered. 'Maybe it's the girls...'

Stephen brightened at that. At report the night before, Joy had said that she and Talitha planned to come upstairs as well today, helping to search for Walker.

But as they went on listening, as the footsteps came closer, both men frowned deeply. No, that sound was much too heavy to be the girls.

Grimly, Jack loosened his sword in its sheath. 'Stay behind me,' he whispered to the unarmed Stephen. This was really a rotten place to make a stand, Jack knew - an enemy coming from below could easily cut his legs out from under him - but there was nowhere else to go. And so Jack waited. And prayed.

The footsteps stopped now, halting at the landing just below them, still out of sight. 'Be ready to run away if you have to,' Jack whispered. His arm tensed, ready to draw his sword.

And then a quiet voice floated up to them: 'Be not afraid.'

Relief swept through both Jack and Stephen. Morgen!

Yes. He appeared round the corner now, coming to join them. 'Oh, it's you' fought with 'What are you doing here?' to be the first words out of Stephen's mouth. While Jack said, 'I sure didn't expect you.' He plunged the hilt of his sword all the way back into its place as he added, 'What are you doing here?'

'I am come to aid you in your search,' Morgen replied simply.

'But,' Stephen objected, 'you were taking my place again at work. Won't they miss you?' A pause. 'Won't they miss me?'

'I think not,' came the response.

Oh. Another pause, then Stephen muttered, 'Sure hope you're right...'

'Well, anyway, glad to have you along,' Jack said. 'Let's go.'

On they went, continuing up the stairs. For someone who had just been making enough noise to put the two of them on alert, thought Stephen, Morgen was certainly quiet enough now to creep up on a mouse...

They had long passed the ground-level where Linda's party was, and continued on up into the realm of the guards. On they went, up, up. Where exactly they should begin their search, Jack had no clue. But something - gut instinct? - pushed him on. Higher. Higher.

Hmm. Jack might have felt the slightest little click inside; it was hard to tell. But shooting a glance at the others, then at the door just above them, he stopped and said, 'Here.'

Morgen nodded. Stephen shrugged and said, 'As good a place as any, I guess.'

'Well, if we'd gone much further, one of us might have gotten a nose bleed,' Jack quipped. With an 'after you' gesture towards Morgen, he moved to flank the door on the left. Morgen took the right; Stephen crowded behind Jack. They listened for any sound coming from beyond this door.

Nothing.

All right. 'Go,' said Jack.

Morgen went. There was a tense moment's wait after he passed through the doorway before he called back, 'All clear.' Jack moved up, waving Stephen through ahead of him, then took the rearguard. And as Jack slipped through the doorway last of all, he had just enough time to wonder what this level would be like...

...before he saw for himself.

Well. Not a whole lot different. Endless corridors as usual, but fewer doors. No one was about.

For the moment.

They stood in a tight knot together as the door closed behind them. 'Which way?' asked Stephen.

He was asking Jack. Jack immediately turned to pass the question on to Morgen, only to find that Morgen too was looking at him in silent expectancy.

Oy. 'Um,' Jack responded. 'Um. Ok. Well, let's go lef - no, right.' He pointed the way, and then found he was leading, for Morgen dropped back to take the rearguard this time, leaving Jack with the point, since the weaponless Stephen must of course stay sandwiched in the middle.

Well. Jack took a cautious step forward, and they moved out.

They reached the first door and Stephen made ready to unlock it. He was about to fit his key into the keyhole when a lot of noise started coming their way.

From behind them. They needed to hide!

Panicking, Stephen tried to hurriedly jam the key into the lock - only to watch helplessly as it flipped from his fingers instead, landing a good yard or so farther up the corridor. He choked on an inappropriate word and started to scramble after the key.

But there was no time for that. Jack's sword appeared in his hand as he whirled and pressed his back to the wall, his free arm swinging out to grab Stephen and shove him back against the wall as well. Morgen too had sword in hand, but instead of trying to melt into the wall behind them like the others were doing, he turned and stepped forward, moving towards the sound. Strangely, Morgen seemed to be larger than usual, as if he had something - wings? - extending out from his sides, to shield his two friends behind him.

The source of the sound now rounded a corner and started their way. Stephen's stomach sank; oh, yes - it was guards.

Jack's heart, on the other hand, soared up into the back of his throat. Guards, yes, heading for the stairway door they had just passed through. And in the midst of the guards, heavily laden with chains, there was stumbling along a lone figure, with a face so battered as to be almost beyond recognition.

Almost - but not entirely. For Jack recognized him, and a moment later, so did Stephen.

Walker!

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

requesting entries for storyblogging carnival xxxviii

2006-02-05T23:17:00.000-06:00

I will be hosting the upcoming Storyblogging Carnival on 13 Feb 2006. Unless I lost count, it should be number XXXVIII. Deadline for entries is a minute before midnight, Friday 10 Feb 2006. If you'd like to participate, please e-mail your story submissions to me at sheyajoie ~at~ yahoo ~dot~ com (or post in my comments), including the following information:

* Name of your blog
* URL of your blog
* Title of the story
* URL for the blog entry where the story is posted
* (OPTIONAL) Author's name
* (OPTIONAL) A suggested rating for adult content (G, PG, PG-13, R)
* A word count
* A short blurb describing the story

And now, cribbing from Donald S Crankshaw of 'Back of the Envelope,' the founder of SBC:

The post may be of any age, from a week old to years old. More detailed information follows (same as always):

1. The story or excerpt submitted must be posted on-line as a blog entry, and while fiction is preferred, non-fiction storytelling is acceptable.
2. The story can be any length, but the Carnival will list them in order of length, from shortest to longest, and include a word count for each one.
3. You may either send a complete story, a story in progress, or a lengthy excerpt. You should indicate the word count for both the excerpt and the complete story in the submission, and you should say how the reader can find more of the story in the post itself.
4. If the story spans multiple posts, each post should contain a link to the beginning of the story, and a link to the next post. You may submit the whole story, the first post, or, if you've previously submitted earlier posts to the Carnival, the next post which you have not submitted. Please indicate the length of the entire story, as well as the portion which you are submitting.
5. The host has sole discretion to decide whether the story will be included or not, or whether to indicate that the story has pornographic or graphically violent content. The ratings for the story will be decided by the host. I expect I'll be pretty lenient on that sort of thing, but I have some limits, and others may draw the line elsewhere. [Note: When Donald says others may not be so lenient, he is thinking of yours truly ~sjy.] Aside from noting potentially offensive content, while I may say nice things about stories I like, I won't be panning anyone's work. I expect other hosts to be similarly polite.
6. The story may be the blogger's own or posted with permission, but if it is not his own work he should gain permission from the author before submitting to the Carnival.

If you'd like to be added to the e-mail list, please let me know. Finally, I appreciate folks promoting the carnival on their own blogs, and I'm always looking for bloggers willing to host future carnivals.

Looking forward to your wonderful entries. And, Doc - please, more Ink Magic!

the child, part 3, chapter 16 - 'starr alone'

2006-02-03T00:52:00.000-06:00

Sitting alone there in the corner, without Stone, with the screams and commotion of the deepest dungeon echoing through the cell around her, Starr found it very hard not to imagine what was going on out there. In fact, she had to fight her imagination, which was spitting out picture after picture to explain the horrendous sounds she was hearing.

It was exhausting. But she saw even more clearly that Stone was right: she really did not want to know what was happening. Pressing her hands over her ears was next to no help. And anyway, when she did that, she couldn't hold her ankle. And she needed to hold her ankle.

Presently the thought hit her to pack some of the cool mire round the ankle. Finding some cloth in her pack, she made a bandage to hold the slippery muck in place, glad that the skin was not broken.

And she sat. And she waited.

And as she waited, her mind began to wander about. She wondered what was going to happen next, and whether the guards would show up here at this cell. She wondered how the prisoner was doing, and if he would ever forgive her. Not that she thought she had done anything against him - but he obviously thought she had, and that was enough.

She cried for a bit for him, then dried her tears. And her mind wandered some more.

She wondered why Stone had made this shelter out of the old, ratty blanket. He must have found it on the bed over there, so it was the prisoner's blanket. Why hadn't Stone used his own, which would have been so much more light-proof? Had he known already about this 'favor'?

But soon, as she grew chilly and pulled out her own blanket to wrap up in, she realized why. Stone had wanted the better blanket to sleep in, to keep the cold out.

And soon after that, she found a second reason Stone had chosen to hang up the prisoner's old blanket rather than sleep in it. For she gradually noticed that, in the flickering light of the candle, there were flickers across the face of the ratty old blanket that weren't merely shadows and light. Peering closer, she saw...

Tiny, tiny insects. Evil-looking insects. Things she really, really did not want coming anywhere close to her skin.

She shuddered and shrank back. Ew! They hadn't had anything like that up on the ground-floor where she had been! Oh, no - they were clean; they were superior; they were the best, the good people...

Oh! She remembered that? Was she beginning to remember things? Eagerly, happily, she pursued the memory, looking to see what else she might recall.

But no - whatever more she might have remembered had already taken to wings and flown out of her head.

Sigh. Oh, well...

Time passed, but how much time it was hard to tell. Presently her stomach announced that whatever the time, it was time to eat. So she pulled out an apple.

She looked at it. Memories flooded in. Not her long-ago past this time, but the immediate past. From that morning - the prisoner's dream. And from the day before, the poor guy's rapture at getting to bite into a real apple. And his indignation when he realized that while he was eating, she wasn't.

Why hadn't she eaten? In fact, come to think of it, she hadn't had a bite the whole time she'd been down here. Hungry she was - her stomach was plain on that point. So why...?

Fast.

The word appeared whole inside her head. Fast. Yes. Fasting...

And prayer.

Frown. She had heard that phrase before, hadn't she?

...this kind goeth not out but by prayer and fasting...

What kind, she wondered. The kind that afflicted the prisoner? That made him - so small, he was - one of the victims? One of the kind of victims who hated it, she guessed.

Without really noticing it, she had put the apple away.

And almost without noticing it, she began to pray. For the prisoner - for his safety - for his heart to beat after the Master's heart - for his hatred of being a victim to blossom into a longing to be out of this prison - to be free. Free not just from the chains and the dungeon holding him captive, but free within - free of the inner chains. Free in heart.

For him to change; the very thing he thought no one could do.

Beloved, she whispered into the lonely air, praying such words as appeared within her head, speaking his will with her mouth.

Time passed. Tiredness overcame her. She prayed on, slowly wearing down. Slowly her eyes closed. Slowly her mind wandered off again.

Why, she wondered... When Stone had been lying there on the floor, while the prisoner was kicking him - why he had said, 'ta-ta'? She'd never known him to say such a thing before; he always just said 'good-bye.' Or 'I'll be back.' Or 'catch you later'...

So why? *yawn* Was he really saying 'ta-ta'? Or was it something else? Something like maybe... *yawwwwwwwn*... a name...?

She dreamed...

~~~~~~~

Still spitting out curses under his breath, the prisoner paced. He was far too angry to sit down; as he stomped back and forth in the mire, he was throwing off energy that could all but be seen crackling off of him. How could she do that? Bring that no-good curse-curse-curse in here with him? Mitch! Of all people he hated, Mitch!

His stomach was rumbling, but he was too angry to care. Back and forth he paced, churning up the mire, churning out the curses, till...

A light. The room was growing less dark again. Were they coming back? Were they that crazy? Man! He'd trusted her...

Trusted? Since when did he trust anyone? Maybe he was the crazy one...

He stopped pacing and watched the patch of light spreading on the far wall, defining into the shape of the iron-barred window, moving down the wall and across the floor to his feet.

Whoever was coming was here now. And bearing a torch. A pretty good bet it wasn't them again, but was instead...

A heavy hand battered the door. 'Look alive in there,' barked a guard. 'If you are still alive, you,' curses.

'I'm here,' the prisoner replied sullenly.

'Want some lunch?' growled the guard.

Lunch? Oh, yes! His stomach jumped with joy.

'Well, too bad, 'cause you ain't getting any!' The sadist guard laughed with maniacal glee as the helpless prisoner's hopes fell and were crushed in the mire. No lunch? Were they going to starve him this time?

'Heh, just funning you,' the guard added. 'Catch!' A fairly microscopic something flew in through the window. The prisoner leapt to catch it.

And landed face-first in the muck. But laughing. He might be yucky from head to foot, but he'd caught the food this time! Ignoring the guffaws of the guard, he crammed the bit of stale bread into his jaws, chewing, chewing, chewing.

The light retreated. Or began to. Suddenly there was an oath from outside.

'What the' curse 'is this?' The torchlight sprang up towards the ceiling as the guard bent for the floor. Straightening, he thrust his arm inside the window on the door, shaking something at the prisoner. 'Where the' same curse 'did this come from? You been having visitors?'

Warily, swallowing first, the prisoner slinked just close enough to the guard's hand to see what was in it - certainly not close enough for the guard to be able to grab him. He knew better than that. But what was in the guard's hand? It was small, stubby...

A candle.

No, the candle. That same stub of candle that Mitch had lit, which had shown him Mitch's face and shown Mitch his.

The guard waved the candle at the prisoner's nose. 'Where'd this come from?' he demanded.

The prisoner licked his parched lips. Here it was, his golden moment. He could rat Mitch out! He didn't know if the scum had gone back to his own cell that he'd told Starr he'd taken over - but who cared! Just telling the guards that there were some of them in here - the people with their precious keys - the goody-goodies... Yeah! They would reward him for ratting them out.

His vision spangled as he imagined it: food, and drink - real drink, not brackish water like they usual gave the captives. And fame - his name known and lauded - not cursed like they always cursed him, guards and prisoners alike. All he needed to do was tell...

And as his mouth opened, he saw her. Starr. So strange, so foreign. Yet so trusting. She...

She had trusted him. No one had ever trusted him before.

For good reason. Trusting people got you hurt, got you killed.

'Where'd this come from?' the guard growled once again.

The prisoner started to tell. He really did. And then, instead, he snarled back, 'How the' curse 'should I know? Probably one of you blasted guards - sneaking around to see his girlfriend!'

For response, the guard spewed out a blistering barrage of curses. Flinging the candle at the prisoner's feet, he took his torch and left.

But for some reason, the cell didn't seem so dark anymore. And the prisoner's heart certainly felt lighter than it had ever felt in all his life. Why was that?

~~~~~~~

She woke. Blinking. It was dark. Her candle?

She felt for it. Found only a still-warm, still-soft puddle of wax where it had been. It had burned out.

It had been Stone's candle. Did she have another? She'd never looked for one in her pack; she'd never needed one before. Now, she looked, feeling around and around in the depths of the pack's interior.

No candles. Puzzling. They were supposed to be provided with what they needed, right? So why didn't she have a candle?

Maybe... she didn't need one?

She started at the thought. But maybe it was right. Maybe she didn't need a candle.

All right. Then she would sit in the dark.

She thought over the dream, looking at it from every angle, pondering it and what it could mean. She was still meditating on it when a sound invaded her thoughts.

The door!

The lock - she could hear it being unlocked. The door opened. Feet sloshed in. The door closed.

In her corner, she stiffened. Suddenly she was glad to have no candle. Even with what Stone called 'favor' - if this was the guards come to look for her, she didn't want a light shining to guide them in their search.

But... The prisoner hadn't given them away. At least, he hadn't in the dream. So maybe...

'Starr? Starr, it's me.' She heard the blanket move above her head. 'Starr? Did your candle burn out?'

Relief. 'I'm here, Stone.'

'Whew. Good. When you didn't answer at first, I began to wonder were you gone.' A moment later he had a light made and a new candle lit.

She looked up at him, blinking in the light, then looked past his shoulder. 'You're alone?' she said wistfully.

'Well, yeah, I... Oh.' He understood her meaning now. 'No, no Walker still. And I finished the level just now. He's not here.'

A glum little nod.

'What about you, Starr? How's your ankle?'

She hadn't thought about it since before she fell asleep. Now, at his prompting, she moved it.

'Ow.'

Stone knelt, gently removed the bandage she'd made. He tried to flex the ankle, but her hiss of pain let him know it was much too early for that. He rebandaged it and rocked back on his heels. What would they do now?

'Well,' he said. 'It will be the nightly lock-down soon. Once the halls are clear and the guards are gone, I can do like I said and carry you out. In fact,' he added with a smile, 'I can take you to meet Forest and James for tonight's report, and they can take you on upstairs. Though what reason I have to stay down here, I don't know. Walker's not here, and no one else seems to be...'

'I can't go, Stone,' she interrupted.

Huh? 'What do you mean, you can't go?'

Swiftly she recounted the dream to him.

And he shook his head. 'So?'

'So he didn't betray us. There's still a glimmer of hope for him. If he's the one we're here to rescue - well, how can I leave?'

'Starr, it was a dream. You can't know that any of that really happened.'

She looked him in the eye. 'It happened. That's why I dreamed it. Because it's real.'

'Starr...' And then he sighed. Shook his head. 'You and your dreams. I told you, I have a lot of trouble just living on dreams and visions and all. But... You believe it, don't you?'

She nodded.

'Which means you ain't budging till you know different.' He didn't wait for her nod this time, but said with another sigh, 'All right then. We'll go with that. Though how you can do anything when you can't even walk...'

'I can still pray,' she whispered.

~~~~~~~

Stone looked around at the three guys from upstairs and said, 'So, she's staying. And if she's staying, so am I - for now. She still thinks we should trust the Master to give us someone to get out of here, from right down here.'

Seth rolled his eyes. 'Man! That lady of yours, she always that loco?'

Before Stone could respond, Forest broke in, 'She saved my life with her visions and sight, Seth. And I've saved her life too. If that's what she believes the Master has for her, then I believe it too.'

The fire in the boy's quiet words shook Seth. 'Hey! No offense,' he said, finding himself actually backing away from the kid. 'I don't know her like you guys do, so,' he shrugged, 'maybe you're right.' He looked over at Stone again. 'But don't stay here any longer'n you hafta.'

'We don't plan on it,' Stone replied.

James had been thinking while this exchange took place, and now addressed Stone. 'I don't know what exactly her dream meant, except that it seems to be intended to keep the two of you from giving up on this level yet. So - keep searching. Maybe the man in Solitary is the one. And maybe he isn't.'

'Yeah, that's what I was thinking,' said Stone. And Forest, looking into James' face, added, 'That's more than you've said in three days, buddy. And I'd say it's worn you out. Let's get going.'

James nodded. He really did feel tired. And that wasn't a good sign, knowing that they might well have to cut their way out of here once Walker was found. With brief farewells, he and his men started back up the stairs.

'See you tomorrow night for your next report,' Forest called softly as Stone turned to go.

How could any of them know that there would be no next report?

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 2, chapter 3 - 'dark night of the soul'

2006-02-02T21:51:00.000-06:00

***This is a rechaptering of the original chapters 46-48, which were posted on 31 mar - 6 apr 05. Minor rewriting as well.)***

More days. More walking. More arguing. More pain. More circling the mountain.

More getting nowhere.

And then came a day when, as the group was descending a particularly rough and ugly passage, Starr's foot slipped, sending her slithering through rock and grit, skinning her shin from ankle to knee. A bush - prickly one, of course - broke her skid, and she sat for a moment, silent, too shocked even to cry.

Looking around, she saw that the main part of the group was still descending the slope, having not even noticed what had happened to her. The only ones who had noticed were those behind her. Stone, and the angels.

Stone just stood there, looking at her, as she sat there in her pain, clutching at her oozing leg. The angels stood watching Stone, to see what he would do.

He drew a long breath. Frowned.

Glanced at Maccabees. Gave a jerk of his head towards the girl.

And then turned away. And walked on.

And now came the tears. The skinning of her leg had not been quite enough to start Starr crying. But this was. Hot tears stung her eyes, spattering down her cheeks.

He... he walked on?

A hand reached down to her. Knees bent and rested by her. A canteen uncorked, and the cool water within was sent cascading over the long wound. Maccabees.

Starr looked up into his face as he brought out a cloth to clean away the grit and to bandage her leg. The two other angels paused, but Maccabees gave a wave of his hand to let them know he needed no aid. They walked on as well then, following Stone.

And so the pair of them were left behind for a time by the rest.

Starr winced a bit at the washing of her wound, but the real hurt was in her heart. 'He... he didn't stop!' she said, incredulous. 'He just... went!'

'I am sorry,' the cherub replied.

Starr's whole face twisted in anguish. 'I don't understand,' she whispered - a whisper, but yet with the intensity of full-throated yelling. 'What is with him? How can he just... walk away like that? I...' She shook her head. 'Is this why his name is Stone? Because that's what his heart is made of? I thought he loved me! Has he thrown all of that away? Do I mean nothing to him anymore?'

'Starr...'

'Don't defend him!' she hissed back. 'This is ridiculous! He doesn't feel a thing anymore - not one thing! Isn't that so?'

'Starr. That is the hurt talking. And I do not mean the hurt in your leg. But do not, in your anguish, make accusations without proof.' Maccabees' own face was full of pain. 'He saw. He ached. But he thought... that you would prefer my company to his.'

'But...'

'But he doesn't know that? Any more than you know what is going on in his heart. Be at peace, Starr. Trust. This is temporary. That is the word I hear ringing in my ears: temporary. Do not worry.'

She cast down her eyes, watching as he finished wrapping her injury securely. 'Are you sure?' she whispered. And this time, her whisper was only a whisper.

The angel smiled. 'Yes,' he said. 'Now. Let's get you upright.' And he stood, taking her hand, helping her to stand as well.

She tested putting her weight on her leg, and found it didn't bother her as much as she might have thought it would. She did hold on to the cherub's hand, though, as they started out after the rest.

They still had the remainder of the slope to clamber down, and Maccabees diligently made sure Starr did not fall again. It was only after they reached the flat land at the bottom and had walked a few yards on that Maccabees stopped and pointed back to the right of the rough way they had just come. 'Do you see it?' he said.

She looked. There, snaking in from the side of the other mountain, there was a second valley. Smaller, with many stunted trees and brambly bushes studding the way. She frowned.

'Recognize it?' he asked.

Vaguely, she did. 'Isn't that... isn't that the way we came in? It leads back to the start of the valley, and beyond that, to the Mountain of Spices?'

'Yes.'

Well. That explained how they could keep circling and circling, with no one noticing what was going on. A bit more thought and then she asked, 'If that is the way we got in, where is the way we get out?'

Maccabees smiled. 'When it is time to get out, then will you see. All of you will.'

And turning after the rest, he helped Starr to hurry and catch up with the others.

~~~~~~~

Sleep fled her that night. Her leg was part of the reason. And the rest of the reason...

...was not hard to guess.

Tossing, turning - long after the others had fallen asleep. Till one particularly rough kick at her blanket pulled at the bandage on her leg hard enough to rupture the tender scab and start the wound to bleeding again.

Oh, great. She sat up then, pushing the blanket aside lest any blood get on it. Fumbling in the dark, she tried to wrap the bandage again. Suddenly, the frustrations of the day overboiled inside her, and she sprang up from her bedding entirely, thrust open the tent door, and bolted outside.

The moon peered down at her from overhead, stars dotting the sky near the pale face of that silent watcher in the night sky. Starr walked. Out from the camp, out into the surrounding woods. Not blindly, as she had that time before. She kept glancing behind her, being sure not to get too far from the dim light of the still-burning campfire huddled in the midst of the three tents.

Her steps slowed now. She was getting to the distance from the camp where one of the men should be walking his watch. Keeping a close watch herself, she slipped behind a tree, waiting. She did not want to be spotted - not, at least, until after she had spotted the watchman first.

Especially if Stone was the one on watch - she did not want him to catch her out in the night.

Stone. She was still angry inside. To just walk away from her like that! What was he thinking? What was the matter with him!

A small crunch of foot on underbrush caught her attention. The watchman! She ducked - not too quickly, for a sudden motion could easily give her away. Furtively she watched.

Ah. It was James... no... Jack. Yes, Jack. Good. If it had been James, then Stone would have the next watch afterwards. But Jack's watch was nowhere near Stone's. Perfect.

She waited while the man made his slow turn round the camp and vanished into the darkness. It would take him maybe ten minutes to return to this spot, she figured. Plenty of time to herself. By herself.

Stone. Again she pictured it inside her head - him standing there as she lay bleeding on the ground. Him turning her over to Maccabees. Him walking away.

And he hadn't even asked her over supper how her leg was!

Fury welled up again inside her. Temporary - that was the word Maccabees had told her. But meaning what? That Stone's estrangement from her would be temporary, and then he would come back? Or that the brief spring of love they had shared was the temporary thing in her life, and now was over and gone forever?

Ohhhh... This was making her head hurt. What was she supposed to think? When the man who had confessed to love her, now spent so much time ignoring her - avoiding her, as far as she could tell? What was going on?

The Master had warned her of this...

What if I don't like it? she muttered inside her brain. What if I'd rather just... What if I...

'What if I want out?' And that she said aloud.

Not loudly. But aloud.

Out? As in - what?

'Out of this relationship. If there even is one.'

Out is out. Completely out. All or nothing.

'Well, maybe I want nothing! But this - what I have - this is not what I wanted! A man who ignores me?' She was gesturing now, talking to the thin air before her, the same intense hissing whispering she had done earlier that day towards Maccabees.

She pointed back towards the camp, where undoubtedly Stone was now sleeping soundly within his tent. 'He is not what I expected. And he is not what I wanted.'

What did you want?

'To...' Her voice broke, crying. 'To be loved...'

Softly, the answer came: Don't I love you?

She began to cry in earnest now. She felt them, the arms she could not see, encircling her, embracing her. Starr...

'Master...' she whispered back.

Don't expect too much. Or too soon. He is still becoming. And I am becoming in him.

'But this...!'

He loves you.

'He doesn't show it.'

Not at this time, no. But soon. You will see. He must go through this himself, to be sure. When he is sure, when he is ready - you will have his love. And you will have it all.

A hesitation. '...I hate this...'

Be at peace. You too are becoming. But 'out,' dear Starr - is out. Completely. That, my love, you do not want.

No... That was true. To be out completely - away from the Master. Alone from him - apart. No, that she did not want.

Better?

A sigh. A nod. 'Yes...'

'Hey! Who's there?'

Starr's heart sprang into her throat, as her hand sprang over her mouth.

~~~~~~~

And then she recognized it: Jack's voice! But too soon, and coming from the wrong direction!

Yes, here the man came, walking back from the way he had disappeared into. Peering forward as he came, suspicious, suspenseful...

And then he relaxed. 'Oh, it's only you.' A blink. 'Uh... what're you doing out here, Starr? I mean, this time of night, the only 'Starrs' that ought to be out are the ones overhead. You know?'

Sigh. Yes, that was Jack, all right.

'Sorry,' he added as he came closer. 'I suppose that was a bit lame.' A pause. 'Oh. And maybe I shouldn't have used that word. Your leg bothering you?'

To that she nodded.

'Sorry you got hurt today, Starr. I still don't see how you took such a bad tumble, and didn't none of the rest of us even notice. Hurts, does it?'

'Not really,' she answered. And shrugged. 'It, uh, started bleeding again.'

'Ick,' said he. Glanced around, then added, 'Look. I can't leave you out here, all by yourself in the dark. Want me to walk you back to the camp?'

'Not particularly.' She wasn't ready to go back yet, and knew it.

'Well, come on with me then. I still have about half my watch to go, and can't do it standing in one place.'

She hesitated. Really, she wanted some more time to herself. But how could she explain that to Jack: 'Sorry, I'd rather stand here and talk to someone who's not here'?

So she followed Jack.

He walked a bit slowly, trying to not go too fast for the sake of her injury. The woods about them were quiet, still. 'All these nights,' he said to her softly, 'all this time traveling, and no one's attacked us in the night yet.' When she made no reply, he added, 'So far, so good, huh?'

No attacks. And even as he said it, her vision gave a subtle shift, and she saw ugly squat bodies poised about the camp, vicious swords in their hands, their eyes glowing with hatred. Waiting...

She blinked, and the night was still and empty again.

'You all right?' said Jack.

'Y-yes,' she stammered. 'I think so.'

'You know,' he said after a few more minutes of circling the camp, 'I keep waiting and hoping for James and Forest to start getting along together. I mean, after all this time, for the two of them to still find stuff to clash over - man! that's persistence!'

Persistence - well, that was one way to look at it...

'James has always been like this,' Jack went on, 'ever since we were kids.' A slight chuckle. 'You know, our mom used to say there was nothing wrong with being stubborn, as long as you were stubborn for the right things. But I never saw it that way.'

He looked away into a distance Starr could not see. 'Probably one of the most wonderful sights of my life,' he said, 'was when I looked up over the Mountain of Spices, and saw a rescue party returning from the enemy's dungeons, and there among the captives set free,' he smiled, 'was my own brother Harry. That was our names before,' he added. 'James was Harry, and I was Howie.'

A wistful look passed over his face. 'But I've always expected since, for Har - James - to change. To stop with the bull-headedness. I think it's good for him, really, to have Forest to deal with, challenging him, forcing him to think about his own decisions and all.' Then he added, muttering, 'If they'd just stop with the arguing... Pig-headed, the both of them!'

Starr thought about what Jack was saying, and about what his mother used to say. 'Maybe...' she ventured. 'Maybe James doesn't need to stop being stubborn. Maybe he just needs to realize which things he should be stubborn about, and which things he shouldn't.'

Jack sighed. 'That's not really what I wanted to hear, you know.' And then he stopped, paused, and turned back the way he had come.

'Where are you going?' Starr asked in surprise.

'The other direction for a while,' he said without stopping, so that she had to hurry to catch up. 'I change directions every so often when I'm on watch,' he explained. 'See, if someone is planning an attack on the camp, I figure they might wait for whoever's on watch to go past, then think they've got plenty of time till the watch comes around again. But then I backtrack...' He smiled, the twinkle in his eye visible even in the starlight. 'Just trying to cross 'em up - if they're out there.'

Oh, they were out there, all right. But what was holding them back from attacking? Starr wondered.

A few more minutes walking, and Starr was beginning to yawn. She was also beginning to visibly limp. 'Come on,' said Jack, turning in towards the camp. 'You gotta get off that leg now.'

She made no protest, but allowed herself to be led to her tent. Good nights and thank yous followed, and then Jack went back to his circling of the camp.

And still Starr did not go in. She had a bit of unfinished business yet before going to bed. Checking first to be sure she was not being observed...

'Master?' she whispered into the darkness.

And though she saw him not, she felt his presence.

'Master,' she breathed again. 'I'm... I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive Stone. I don't understand, but that doesn't matter, does it? I give you all my anger against him.'

And I take it, she heard, not in her ears.

'...and I put myself - all of me - into your hands again. To trust, with this and with everything. Master...'

My love.

'Oh, make us ready! Start with me! So that we can stop going round and round this mountain, and become what you desire us to be!'

She felt his smile. And heard: I already am.

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 3, chapter 15 - 'when stone was mitch'

2006-01-27T04:14:00.000-06:00

Stone was silent for a very long time, gathering his thoughts. Working up his courage. Then:

'You've asked me more than once what goes on down here,' he said at last, 'and I've always put you off. Well...' He shifted uncomfortably. 'All right, let me put it this way. There are... victims, and there are, uh, bullies. And after roll call every morning - if you can call it 'morning' in a place of endless dark - the guards turn everyone loose. And the bullies... go after the victims.'

'But what do the bullies do to...'

'Oh, Starr!' said he in the anguish of his soul. 'That I won't tell you.'

Oh. She thought that over for a bit. What could be so awful that he wouldn't tell her, and would couch it only in sanitized labels? He couldn't be talking about fighting, because that's what went on upstairs where Forest and James were. So what... could it...

'You were a victim...' she said at last. It was a statement, not a question.

No response.

She shifted to look in his face. 'Stone?'

At length, not meeting her eye, he said, 'Well, we all start out as victims, when we're small. Victims are usually the small and weak. And bullies... are usually, uh, big...'

He cut a glance at her then, and for a second she looked into the eyes of this man she loved so dearly. This... big... man...

He was, she realized, telling her without having to tell her. Wordlessly, she reached for one of his hands. Held it. Squeezed it.

'Some of the victims,' he went on, 'hate being victims. Others - such is the way things go - love being victims. Go figure. And it's the same with the bullies. Some love it; others hate it with a passion.' His head fell back then, leaning against the wall behind them, his eyes focused on things Starr could not see. 'But... they can't stop. They might want to stop. But this is all they know. How do you change? Even if you want to, how can you change?'

The prisoner's cry of 'People don't change!' echoed through Starr's memory.

And then she understood. 'That's why he hates you,' she said. 'He's a victim. And... you bullied him.'

~~~~~~~

Miserably, Stone nodded.

'But the Master came for you. He got you out. He changed you.'

'Yes, he did.' And that brought a slight smile to his lips. 'But it doesn't erase the past. It doesn't erase his memories,' his voice dropped off to a whisper, 'of what I did to him.'

From her heart, Starr breathed, 'I am so sorry.'

'Sorry? You didn't do anything.'

'You're hurting. If there was any way I could take that hurt for you, so you wouldn't feel it, I would do that. And,' she added, 'he's hurting too...'

Stone sighed. 'Yeah. And I just blew the whole thing.' He shook his head. 'Why would the Master send me here, knowing that just the sight of me would send the guy off into...' He shook his head again, then winced as if he could feel his brain sloshing around in there.

'I don't know,' said Starr softly. 'I only know what I saw, what the Master told me just before they threw him into Solitary. And I still think...'

She trailed off. She could still think it, but she sure couldn't fathom how the Master would pull it off.

Stone sighed deeply. 'Well,' he said, determinedly pushing away the dark thoughts. 'At least he doesn't know that we came back here. If he did know that, he'd be sending the guards after us in a heart beat. As it is...' and Stone paused to listen to the outside world.

The usual noise of the subterranean day was going on out there, but nothing that sounded like the guards anymore. 'All right, we should probably get you out of here as soon as possible,' Stone said. 'Even if he doesn't realize we've come back here, he might decide to tell them I've been using this cell. And then they might come to check this room anyway. So, let's go.'

Starr blinked. 'Go?'

'Yeah,' said he.

'Right now? In the middle of the day?'

'Yeah.'

'But... but... From what the man in Solitary said, I'm the only woman down here.'

'True.'

'Won't they see me?'

'Maybe,' said Stone. 'But I'm counting on them not noticing you.'

Starr's wide eyes went even wider. 'How could they not notice me? My hair! My dress!'

'And your sword. And your lack of chains.' He chuckled at her blank, baffled look. 'Starr, all day yesterday I was going around amongst them. And not a one of them paid a bit of attention to my sword, or the fact that I wasn't wearing chains. I don't know if maybe Mac did something to them, like what he did to the guards back in the valley, or just what's going on...'

'Like why candlelight doesn't shine through this blanket,' she agreed.

'Exactly. But we have some sort of... favor, I guess you'd call it, on us in this dungeon. And I'm counting on that to take us through to get you upstairs, little girl.'

Oh. 'I, I'm sorry, Stone.'

Another chuckle. 'Now what are you sorry for?'

Her cheek twitched. 'For doubting you. I should have trusted you better than I just did.'

'No problem, dearie,' said he, giving her a quick tight squeeze. 'Now, up we get. And you keep your eyes shut till we get to the stairs, ok?'

He hopped to his feet in a trice and blew out the candle. Gripping Starr's hand, he boosted her to her feet.

And she shrieked. Her hand instantly vanished from his grasp, and he lost her in the darkness.

~~~~~~~

'Starr?' Afraid to move for fear of stepping on her, he fumbled for the candlestub he'd just dropped on top of his pack. Found it. Lit it.

There she was, sprawled in the mire, whimpering. Her hands were wrapped round her ankle.

'What's wrong?' he asked.

Through her tears, she moaned, 'My... my foot... it's... oh, oww...!'

Stone knelt by her. 'But how could this happen? We were only sitting here. How could your foot get hurt?'

'I, I don't...' And then she gasped. 'Wait. Oh!' She turned her tear-streaked face up to look at him. 'When he was kicking you, back in Solitary, I tried to make him stop. I got in the way and, and he kicked me. It was an accident, Stone, but - it was this ankle.'

Stone brought the candle close. Her ankle was definitely swelling and turning dark. He touched it and she flinched. 'You can't walk?' he said.

'I...' She paused, considering. 'I don't know. I mean, it caught me by surprise; I hadn't noticed it was hurting, and certainly didn't expect my leg to collapse like that. So maybe... Maybe I can walk...'

'Let's try.' He took her hand again and steadied her as she got her good foot under her. They stood as one, with her teetering on the one foot, clutching Stone's hand, gathering the courage to set the other foot on the floor.

Gingerly...

'Ahh!' She stifled the cry of pain as she snatched her foot up again.

'Can't put weight on it?' he asked.

Tears spilling, she shook her head no. 'What are we going to do now?' she said, trying hard not to wail.

He sighed. 'Oh, man. What are we going to do? I might could carry you out - but not past everyone. I can't expect nobody to notice that. Hmm...'

('But you could have carried her out now,' said Forest. 'So where is she?'

'I'm getting to that,' Stone replied.)

Holding her two hands, he carefully eased her back down so she could sit, her bad leg poking out in front of her at an awkward angle. Then he began to think. Thinking, thinking, racking his still-aching brains for some solution. And finally having to give up. 'I don't know, Starr. You're just going to have to stay here for now,' he said. And, at her forlorn look, he offered, 'I'll stay with you if you want.'

'But you have to search for Walker.'

He nodded. 'I know. But...'

She dashed the tears from her face and gave him a lop-sided, plucky smile. 'I'll be fine,' she said. 'You go. I'll be right here.'

'Yeah, with that foot, no kidding,' he chuckled. Then sobered. 'That is, unless the guards come and search this room...'

'Well. Maybe they won't come. Or if they do, maybe they won't see me.'

'And if they come and they see you, maybe they won't take you away? I don't think the favor extends that far. And anyway,' he added, hunkering down by her to trace a finger along a tear track zigzagging across her cheek, 'that's a lot of maybe's.'

'True. But we don't know what's going to happen. We just have to trust the Master with it.'

He nodded. 'He at least knows.' A sigh. 'All right then. I'm going. Scream if you need me.'

'I love you, Stone,' said she.

She looked so sweet and appealing, there in the candlelight, looking up at him, that Stone nearly broke his resolve not to kiss her till they were wed. 'And I you. I'll be back,' he promised.

'I'll be waiting,' she promised back.

And he left.

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 3, chapter 14 - 'kicked out'

2006-01-20T08:26:00.000-06:00

Green grass. Fresh air. Soft breezes on his face; soft sunshine warming his skin. Bright apples dotting the tree branches above him - all he could want! He plucked an apple and bit into it, feeling the firm skin against his teeth as he bit it through, savoring the tart flesh, the tangy juice. Mmm... Paradise.

He stretched.

And all changed. Clammy slime under him recalled him to where he really was, as he opened his eyes to darkness. His stomach cramped with hunger; his throat burned with thirst. Another day in Solitary...

Painfully, with a pain that was not entirely physical, the prisoner sat up and draped his withered arms over his drawn-up knees. His head sagged between them as he muttered bitterly and with curses, 'What good is it to have dreams like that? It's just torture!'

'Bad dream?'

He started. The girl! She was still here! For a moment, he had almost believed that she was a mere fantasy out of a dream as well.

'You all right?' she added.

Sprinkling in a few curses, he answered, 'It wasn't the dream that was bad. It was the waking from it.'

'Tell me your dream,' she encouraged.

So he did, slowly, grudgingly reliving for her the sights, the sounds, the smells. He didn't want to cry over it. But in the end, he did.

'It ain't fair!' he complained. 'Why do I go and dream stuff like that, when I can't have it?'

That strange girl Starr was silent for a bit. Finally, softly, she said, 'There's an apple tree growing not very far from here, maybe two or three hours' walk. It's on the path that leads to the Master's house. That apple tree is where we stopped and picked these.' She reached into her pack and pulled out yet more apples. 'I still have plenty. Which is odd, since I don't remember picking that many. But I've got a lot more here. Do you want one?'

His stomach turned over. Did he want one! Like he wanted to breathe, he wanted one! Eagerly he reached for it, tasting and smelling and feeling already what it was going to be like to take and eat...

His hand dropped. What good was it, to eat apples here? It was just a cheat, a big lie. Garbage. Filling up his head with thoughts of fresh air and open spaces - stuff that he wasn't ever gonna get to see.

Miserable, he huddled back into himself.

And still she held out to him that apple. 'I thought you wanted it,' she said.

'I thought I did too.'

~~~~~~~

A key twisted in the lock then. Starr scooted immediately back into her favorite corner, out of sight. While the prisoner stiffened. It was still very early morning; he could tell that by the lack of noise out there. Too early for any breakfast. And the guards had simply been tossing his food at him through the iron bars of the one tiny window in the cell door. So why was the door being unlocked? Was this the signal that some sort of malevolent 'fun-and-games' was about to begin? He'd been on the receiving end of that a few too many times in his life...

The door swung open, but not by much. A voice, very low: 'Starr?'

Oh. It was him.

He wasn't sure why he had such an aversion towards the big guy Starr called Stone. She obviously liked the guy well enough. But there was something about him that grated on the little prisoner's last nerve. And as Starr hopped up with a muffled squeal of delight, the prisoner shrank back. Away. Away.

He watched the two embrace. 'I wanted to come by and see you before the guards show up to roust everyone out for the day,' the man said, holding her in his arms. 'How's it going?'

'The way the Master desires it to, I hope,' she replied. 'Walker...?'

He shook his head. No. Glumly, she nodded.

'I've searched maybe three-quarters of the level now,' he added. 'I'll try to finish up before time to make our report tonight.'

'And maybe there will be good news when you make our report,' said Starr. 'Maybe someone upstairs will have found him by then.'

'That would be great,' said Stone. He glanced through the dimness at the other occupant of Solitary - then did a double-take. 'Hey, he's awake this time! I haven't gotten to talk to him yet. Hi, there.'

The prisoner made no answer.

Trying again, Stone said, 'Um, well, I'm Stone. And you are...?'

Still no reply from the little man crouching in the dark against the farthest wall.

Hmm. Glancing back out the door behind him, Stone said to Starr, 'No sign of the guards yet, so I think we can chance a bit of light...' He produced a stub of candle and lit it.

The tiny flickering flame played over Starr's features, illuminating the sweetness and hope dwelling there. Stone answered her smile with one of his own, then turned toward the little man, holding the candle aloft to get a good look at him.

From near the door came a gasp. And from across the room, from that far wall, rose a sudden growl of fury. 'You!'

Like a wild animal, the prisoner boiled up from his crouch and launched himself at Stone. His head caught Stone under the rib cage, whooshing all the air out of his lungs, sending him sprawling on his back in the doorway. The stub of candle went flying, landing in the mire, guttering out with a tiny hiss.

Starr, both hands flung over her mouth in silent horror, watched as the prisoner viciously kicked Stone in the head. Gibbering, raving, the little guy danced back, then came and kicked Stone in the face again. He was all but incoherent with rage; the only words Starr could make out clearly were, '...wanting to get you back for...' and '...that's for the time when...' along with a wide variety of frenzied curses. And also, repeatedly, she heard the name, 'Mitch!'

He danced in to deliver yet another kick. But this time Starr threw herself into the midst. 'Please! Please stop!' she implored - amazingly with enough presence to mind to keep her voice low.

Too late to pull his kick, his foot rammed into Starr's ankle, nearly toppling her. 'I can't believe...!' the prisoner raged on as, from the floor, Stone gasped out, 'To... To...'

Glaring, thrusting his face right into Starr's, the prisoner pointed at Stone and hissed, 'That's Mitch! I hate him! I've hated him for years!' A ragged breath, then, 'You lied to me. You said his name was Stone. Liar!'

'His name is Stone, now,' she said. 'The Master changed his name when he changed him.'

'Changed him? People don't change! He was a bastard when I knew him, and he's...' With a flurry of curses, the prisoner demanded, 'Get him out of here! I never want to see his stinking face again!'

Stone had rolled to his knees now, one arm still clutched across his assaulted belly, the opposite hand wavering between holding his head where he'd received the kicks, or pressing the floor to keep himself from keeling over again. Starr now caught at his free hand, trying to help him to his feet.

'And you,' the prisoner added, turning on Starr. 'If you're a friend of his, you ain't no friend of mine. You get out too!'

'But...' she protested.

'Out!'

Stone, now on his feet but bent over nearly in two, managed, 'Starr... let's just go...'

'And never come back!' the prisoner finished. With his own two hands he yanked the door of Solitary shut behind them. They heard only one more word from the little man. And it was not a nice one.

~~~~~~~

They stood there for a bit, stunned, staring at the slammed door while they waited for Stone to get his wind back. 'What happened?' ventured Starr at last.

Gingerly Stone managed to get all the way upright. 'Long story,' he said. 'I never expected... well, let's go.'

He took her hand and they crept through the still-hushed hallways. 'But go where?' she whispered.

'I'm taking you out of here, Starr.'

'What? No! I...'

'Starr, you can't go back there. And... well, I guess Forest was right: Walker didn't find anyone down here, because you and I are supposed to find Walker and rescue him.'

'But...' she said again, pointing backwards towards Solitary.

'Yes, I know you thought he was the one. I sort of thought that too. But that obviously isn't gonna happen now.' And under his breath he muttered, 'Man, did I blow that.'

'Who is he?' Starr asked.

'An old... acquaintance. I'll explain later. Let's get you safe first.'

'Safe where?'

'Starr!' He turned around to face her. There was a thin trail - black in the torchlight - oozing down the side of his face from all too near his left eye. 'C'mon, Starr, are you just going to argue with me? That's not like you.'

'I'm... I'm sorry, Stone,' she said meekly. And, 'Oh! Your head!' she added, reaching up to touch the spot that was bleeding.

But he turned away. 'We don't have time for that right now, Starr. The guards will be here any minute to start the roll call. And before they can come down the stairs, I want to get you up the stairs and...' But there he stopped talking.

'And...?' she prompted when he said no more.

He shook his head, frustrated - then immediately wished he hadn't, for the pain in his head exploded once again. 'And, um,' he mumbled, trying to collect his thoughts, 'probably drop you off with Lucy and Linda, I guess. Something like that. You can stay with them while I come back down here and finish searching for Walker.'

'But that will mean...' said Starr, and she halted suddenly in the middle of the hall. 'That will mean I won't be part of a team anymore, Stone. And the Master said we were supposed to go out in pairs.'

'I know, I know! Ow...' He pressed a hand to his head again. 'I'm sorry, Starr-girl. My head hurts and I can't really think this through right now. I just know I want you safe and out of here.' He took her hand again, his own hand now a bit bloody as well as coated with mire - not to mention the generous helping of sweat mixing in. 'C'mon.' He led her on towards the stairs they'd come down on. 'The guards will be here any minute, and I want to get you out... uh oh.'

For he saw now that he was wrong. It wasn't any minute.

It was any second.

The door was opening.

~~~~~~~

As the raucous voices of the guards began to clamor through this deepest dungeon, Stone dove behind a corner, dragging Starr after him. 'This way,' he hissed.

Hurry, hurry! Down to the fourth corridor, rounding that corner. Counting doors on the right. Losing his grip on Starr's hand and snatching for it again.

'Thirteen... fourteen...' he muttered. 'This is it.'

'The prisoner's cell,' whispered Starr. 'This is taking...'

'...an awful chance. I know,' said Stone as he unlocked the door. He rushed her through it, pulled it shut again, hustled her off to the left. In the barely existent light, she could make out little of the cell. Vague impression of a bed, a chair, a table.

And here, barely noticeable, was a blanket nailed up across the corner that was least visible from the doorway. Nailed up with...

'Two forks?' she said as Stone lifted the blanket and whisked her behind it.

'Yeah. I told you I made me a hiding place in here.' He spread out the blanket, checking to be sure it covered them well. It was a bit thread-bare and deeply stained - and very dark behind it. 'I've got my pack in here.'

'Where'd you get the other fork?'

'Well, you know, that's the weird thing. All this time, I've just had one fork in my pack. Well, it was all I needed. But when I started to hang up the blanket here and was looking for something to fasten it into place - suddenly there were two forks in the pack. Just what I needed, just when I needed it.' He was digging around in the pack now; Starr could tell by the sound. 'Ah,' he said.

And suddenly there was light.

'Stone!' squeaked Starr. 'We can't have a candle burning! What if someone looks through the window in the door? They'll see the glow right through this ratty old blanket.'

'Will they?' said Stone. His voice sounded so peculiar that Starr took a second look at him. He nodded his head towards the outside. 'Go have a look,' he said.

Baffled, she did. And was then even more baffled.

'You can't see the light from out there,' she said, coming back in.

'Yeah. I don't understand that. I noticed when I ducked out for a minute and left the candle in here. Anyway...' and he faced her squarely. 'I'm sorry, Starr-girl.'

The abrupt shift in conversation left her stunned for a second. And then came the tears. 'Oh, Stone! I'm sorry too. I never should have argued...'

'Now, wait. Hear me out,' he interrupted. 'I shouldn't have been so hard on you. Here you'd just had the rug pulled out from under you, and you were trying to find where you stood. And I was giving you a hard time.'

'But, Stone,' she replied, 'if I hadn't argued with you, we would have reached the stairs faster, and been gone from here like you wanted.'

'Or,' he countered, 'we would have reached the stairs faster and have been caught on the stairway when the guards came down. We can't know which might have happened. All we can do is deal with what is happening. Speculating on what might have happened instead - that just drives people nuts.' And then he asked, 'Um. What are you doing?'

For Starr had taken off her own pack and canteen, and was hunting through the pack to find... 'Here we go. A bit of cloth. Let's have a look at your head.'

Now he was the one stunned by a quick conversational shift. 'Oh, yeah,' he said. He lowered himself to sit in the mire of the cell floor as Starr knelt down at his side. Wetting the cloth, she began to gently clean the wound. There was only a very small tear in the skin by his eye, so she soon had all the blood washed away. He flinched several times as she worked, whispering to her, 'Sorry,' each time.

'I imagine this is very tender,' she sympathized as she finished daubing away the blood. 'I don't think it's bleeding anymore. But it's likely to make a spectacular bruise.'

'Yeah,' said Stone. Reaching for his canteen, he opened it and took a long pull. Then shook it. Then looked at Starr.

'Have you noticed anything weird about your canteen?'

'Weird?' she echoed.

'Yeah. Weird as in, it hasn't run low on water since we got here. Listen.' He gave the canteen a shake. Sure enough, the sloshing from inside it sounded nearly full.

Starr shook her own and heard the same thing. All this time, she had been carefully using as little as possible to make it last - but surely she hadn't used that little.

'You know, that reminds me,' she added. 'Do you still have some apples left from that tree we passed?'

'Yeah, I've got six left; I counted them last night.' But peering into his pack, he said, 'Wait a minute - I have eight apples in here now. No, nine - ten!' He frowned towards Starr. 'How could that be?'

Starr was frowning too. 'I think I remember something,' said she. 'Didn't... didn't the Master say something back when he sent us out, about how all that we would need would be provided us?'

'The Master? I remember Josh saying something like that.'

Oops. 'Oh, yeah... right...'

He glanced towards the door beyond the blanket. 'Sh...' They could hear the guards out there now, out in the corridors, yelling the prisoners awake. Wrapped his arm round Starr, he pulled her close, tucking her against his side. 'Might as well get comfortable,' he said. 'It'll be a wait before they clear out and I can try to sneak you upstairs.'

Resting her head against his shoulder, Starr said, 'What did happen just now, Stone?'

Oh. Suddenly he wished he hadn't promised her an explanation.

No. He'd put this off long enough. It was time to tell Starr the truth.

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 2, chapter 2 - 'distancing'

2006-01-16T11:23:00.000-06:00

***originally posted in mar 05, as chapters 40-45 - also, i did some rewriting on it while redoing it into one long chapter***

When they made camp before sundown that second night out, they found that it was just as well that they hadn't attempted to set up the tents the night before. They would never have been able to do so in the dark; it was nigh on impossible to figure out how to put the tents up in the daylight. And, of course, Forest and James were knocking heads over it, each of them sure that he knew the right way to do the job, and that the other knew nothing about it. To Starr's horror, the pair of them kept on and on, wrangling over which of them knew best how to set up the tents.

Until at last the two turned around to find that, while they had been arguing, the others had, through trial and error, managed to get all the tents up.

There were three tents in the company. After a brief discussion, it was decided that the women should have one tent together, Malachi and his companions the second, and the remaining four men the third. And then, following Forest's suggestion, they set a watch for the night. There were seven men, so each one would take a shift each night. Lucy started to protest the women not being included in the watch, but Linda and Joy quickly hushed her.

This night, Forest proclaimed, he himself would take the first watch. Which set off another argument between him and James over who had the right to set up the watch schedule anyway. Tired of it, the rest left them to their quarreling while they went ahead and fixed the supper.

The group ate, cleaned up afterwards, then spent a time of talking round the fire, before finally, one by one, retiring to the tents to go to bed. Stone and Starr said their sweet good-nights to each other.

And so to sleep.

Two nights later, it was Stone's turn to take the first watch. To Starr's delight, he invited her to keep the watch with him. And so they quietly walked round and round the camp, talking softly together under the wheeling stars till it was time to go to the companions' tent and call Malachi to take the next watch.

And so it went. The days hiking along the valley soon became routine to the group. The rest breaks were soon fewer and briefer, as their muscles grew more used to the exercise. It would be nice to be able say that the arguments among themselves also grew fewer and briefer - but that was not the case. Especially between James and Forest. But soon between Lucy and Linda as well.

Starr walked at Stone's side, grieving inwardly at every quarrel. How she longed for the real unity the Master had called for them to walk in!

Another problem they soon encountered was the weather. Here in this hemmed-in valley, it was often muggy. Direct sunshine rarely reached them, so that they mostly walked through gloom. As for rain, that did not come often, but when it did come, oh, but it poured buckets! That first time it rained, it didn't take them long to realize that there was no point in trying to press on through such a downpour (although Forest argued long and loud to press on anyway). And so they stopped and hurriedly set up the three tents - at least by now they knew how to do that well - so they could huddle within them to wait out the rain. The women gathered inside their tent, the men in theirs, the companions in theirs.

Well... not quite. For Stone drew Starr aside and led her to the tent of the three companions and asked to be allowed to come in. They wound up spending a delightful afternoon, that first rain, in lengthy conversation with Malachi, Maccabees, and Morgan.

Morgenstern, actually. For the first time Starr got to hear his full name. She sat by Stone's side, mostly listening, all that long afternoon as Stone and the others talked and talked. So caught up were they in their conversation, in fact, they didn't even notice the end of the rain. Jack had to come and tell them that the rest were packing their tents to get on the march again.

It was a fine time for Starr, those first few days. Walking at Stone's side, watching with him if his watch was an early one, listening in on his conversations with the companions...

And then there came a hard rain again - the fourth one of the journey. Everyone scrambled to get the tents up quickly. Stone, as usual, went to the companions' tent to wait out the rain in conversation. But when Starr hurried over after helping to get the women's tent up...

Maccabees opened the tent door and looked at her. Turning, he let Stone know she was there. And then, to her utter shock...

Stone frowned at her. 'This is our conversation,' he said. 'You should be in the women's tent.'

And when both Starr and Maccabees continued to just stand there at the tent door, stunned, Stone got up, came over, took the flap of cloth from Maccabees' hand - and said to Starr, 'Go on quickly before you catch your death of cold.'

And then he closed the tent door in her face.

~~~~~~~

The rain poured down. She stood there, stunned, the closed tent door before her face, her stomach feeling like it had just been sucker-punched. What had happened?

Stone had said for her to go to the women's tent, and also for her to do it quickly and get out of the rain. But Starr did neither. Gasping with tears, she instead spun away and ran off through the woods, blindly. Eventually she tripped on a fallen tree trunk. Landing hard, she just lay there on it, crying, choking, nearly sick with the shock of it all. For a long time she huddled there in misery, barely able to think.

The rain rained down.

What had happened?

Slowly, she began to remember the Master's warnings that this would happen - that she would feel as if her heart was being torn in two. 'But what changed?' she asked the pouring rain. 'Why did he do this?'

'You must ask him that.'

And suddenly, though the rain continued all around her, it was no longer falling upon her. She sat up, puzzled...

And saw a great white wing poised over her head, shielding her from the rain. Her eyes trailed over the wing, following it back to the shoulder it was attached to, and then to the face - 'Maccabees!'

His face was calm, unperturbed by the hard and chilly downpour. 'He told you to go back to the women's tent,' Maccabees said. And now the many-voiced aspect of his words she plainly heard.

'You are one of the cherubim. Like Mathilda. You, and Malachi, and Morgenstern. I thought you were.'

He gave a tiny smile. 'Yes. We saw you, that first day, trying to decide who and what we are. You have told no one of your suspicions?'

'No. What point is there, to say there are angels among us? No one else ever notices.'

'Some notice. You are not the only one with such sight. But very few have that gift. Please - continue to say nothing.'

'Why?'

'Because people begin to act differently when they know there are angels about. That is, they begin to put on an act. This company must learn to walk in reality, in honesty. As well as in unity.' He looked away, off through the surrounding trees. 'Only then,' he added, 'will they be prepared to take on the enemy. So long as there are factions and hidden realities - such things the enemy can and will exploit.'

Silence then for a bit between them. She sat on the log, and he stood by her, sheltering her still from the storm.

At last, he said, 'You should go back now. As Stone told you to.'

She got up and he took her hand, his wing still protectively over her head. As he led her through the woods back towards the tents, she realized how reckless she had been, running off like that. She would have never found the camp again on her own.

'You must ask him,' he said again, as they came into the circle of the camp. 'Only he can tell you what has happened. Ask, and keep silence once you have asked, that he may tell you all.'

'Thank you,' she said meekly, as he brought her right to the door of the women's tent.

'You are welcome,' Maccabees replied. And, as a flash of lightning sizzled across the rain-soaked sky above them, he turned away to return to his tent, while she opened the flap and entered her own.

~~~~~~~

Maccabees had said she should ask Stone for herself what had happened, but that was not easy to do. When they continued on the march the next morning (for the rain continued throughout the night), Stone walked with the three companions - the three angels - at the rear, and neither acknowledged Starr's presence nor included her in the conversation. It was a complete snub, and it hurt.

She felt apart. Not part of the group ahead, nor part of the group behind - just apart. Tears sprang up, and she tried diligently to swallow them.

And no one seemed to notice. James and Forest were, as usual, bickering over which way was best through the valley - as if there was much choice. Lucy and Linda were sharing sharp words. Jack and Joy were walking along, he by the arguing men and she by the arguing women, both of them looking quite miserable at the endless, endless squabbling.

And Starr was alone.

That day, and the next, and the next. And then the next night after they made camp, as they were eating supper, Forest pointed across the fire to Stone and said, 'You have first watch tonight.'

Oh! That hit Starr hard. The knowing that, where once he would have come to call her away to watch with him, now he would not call her at all. Would perhaps even be angry with her should she ask to watch with him. Not that she could ask him...

As she sat there, thinking these miserable thoughts, she saw from the corner of her eye - Maccabees. He looked at her till she returned the look, then he glanced towards Stone, then back to Starr, his expression plainly saying, 'Ask him.'

Gulp.

After the clean-up from supper, after all the others had gone on to bed, after Stone had started his slow walk round the perimeter of the camp... Starr slipped out from the women's tent and went to sit in a spot where Stone was sure to pass by.

Here he came. Walking slowly, looking all about. And then slower still, when he spotted her. Still more slowly, when he recognized her face. In fact, stopping dead in his tracks.

'Starr. You shouldn't be here,' he said.

'What happened?' she asked.

'What do you mean, what happened?' he said, drawing no closer.

'I mean...' and she dropped her eyes. '...us...'

'Oh.' And now he came closer. With a sigh, he sat down beside her. Not closely beside her, but close enough that her throat tightened as tears tried to creep up on her. 'Starr, I don't know what happened.'

If he didn't know, surely she didn't know! she wanted to cry out. But she kept silent, as Maccabees had told her to.

'I...' he said. 'Aw, Starr. I fell in love with you quickly, thinking you were the answer to that dream I had. You remember, the star falling into my hand?'

Mutely, she nodded.

'I wanted to be in love. I wanted a wife. I wanted that to be the meaning of the dream. But...'

She started to repeat the word 'but,' to prompt him on in the conversation. Well, the monologue. But there was no need, for he went on talking anyway.

'But then, I learned something.' He looked down, his mouth twitching a bit. 'I learned,' he said, 'that you are not the only 'star' in my life. Morgenstern...'

'Morgenstern?' she cried, unable to keep her silence.

'...means morning star. Yeah, I know - obviously he cannot be my wife. But... maybe that's not what the dream was talking about after all. Maybe... maybe the star dropping into my hand wasn't a wife, but a partner. A partner, for the assault on the dungeons. I started thinking about that, and then... And then I thought that maybe I was... jumping into things too quickly. When I fell in love with you. Maybe... maybe I was wrong. So...'

She remembered to keep quiet this time.

'...so... I think it's better for me not to... not to... be so close to you. For now, at least. Until I'm sure.'

Are you also going to back off from Morgenstern? she thought heatedly, but bit her lip and didn't say it. She knew already the answer. His actions already were the answer. He wasn't walking with all the companions; he was walking now with Morgenstern. And that made her angry.

Yes, and jealous.

'Do you understand, Starr?' he asked.

She jumped up. She had to bite her lips once more to keep from yelling at him, 'Does it matter?'

Without saying that or anything else, she turned and stormed away.

~~~~~~~

It hurt. Daily, it hurt. To see Stone, walking with Morgenstern, talking, laughing, seemingly carefree. Oh, it hurt.

She took to walking with the others. Sometimes with Joy, sometimes with Jack. Now with Lucy or Linda. Or even with Forest or James.

And sometimes... sometimes Maccabees sought her out and walked at her side.

Days passed. Weeks.

She learned much, walking with the others. She learned that Linda was as shy as she looked, and was quite puzzled that she had been given this new name when she was brought from the dungeons to the Master's house. Linda meant pretty, something the woman was sure she wasn't.

Starr learned that Joy had a problem with the deep gloom. It seemed to curl into her brain, she said, and she had to keep remembering how Josh had told them, that last day as they stood before that little house, to be filled with joy. How joy was their strength. To meet melancholy with the Master's joy. How often, Joy said, she had to keep reminding herself of that! How long this road was! And how wearying!

It was long... Days had stretched into weeks, and they were still passing through this same valley? How long could this valley be, anyway?

Starr thought about that one for some time, long after Joy had planted the question into her mind. Really, she should have noticed for herself! Starr thought. And then a few nights later at supper, Forest pointed at Maccabees and said, 'You have first watch tonight.'

Maccabees. If any of them would know how long this way through the valley was, surely one of the angels would know. And so, as she had done that night weeks before when it was Stone's watch, so this night Starr waited and sat herself in the cherub's path, to talk with him.

He did not sit by her, when he came to the place where she awaited him, but instead held out a hand to her and had her join him on his slow watchful walk round the camp. 'Yes, Starr?' he said.

Funny. She found it hard, now, to frame the question. 'We've been walking for a long time,' she said at last.

'Not so long,' he replied. 'We've barely gone halfway round the camp.'

'I don't mean tonight,' she said. And then realized - he was smiling! His too-many eyes were all crinkling in amusement. He was teasing her!

'I know,' he said. 'The journey itself. Yes, it has been long. Very long. And shall be long still.'

'But... how far could it be, to reach the enemy's fortress? We've been on the march for weeks.'

'Not far at all,' he replied.

She stopped walking and stared at him. 'I don't understand.'

He took her hand again and walked on. Shortly, they came upon a fallen tree, where he sat and had her sit beside him. And then, to her surprise, he unfurled a great wing and held it over her head.

'Why are you doing that?' she asked. 'It isn't raining.'

'You remember the day I did this. Because it was raining.'

'Yes. Of course.'

'Look around us.'

She did, still puzzled. Woods... What was she supposed to see?

And then, slowly, it dawned on her. Oh! 'This... this log! This is...'

'Yes.'

'...this is where I was crying that day. Crying in the rain, and you came to find me and lead me back to the camp. This...'

'Yes.'

She looked the angel in the eye. 'We've been going in circles.'

~~~~~~~

'Yes.'

'Why?' she asked.

'Why circles? Why walking round and round this mountain?'

'Yes.'

Maccabees looked her now in the eye. 'You yourself already know the answer,' said he. 'This group is not ready.'

Not ready. James and Forest arguing flashed into her mind. Lucy and Linda's squabbles. Her own anger - yes, anger - with Stone. All these things. And more besides, things that she had not seen. Yes. Maccabees was right. This group was not ready.

'How long?'

He stood, took her hand, walked on. 'Until they are ready,' he said.

'But how long will that take?'

He all but laughed. 'The group will decide that.'

On they walked through the silent woods. 'But...' she said slowly, 'what if the food runs out?'

'It will not,' he replied confidently.

'You're sure?'

'Did not the Master say it? All you will need, will be provided you. His word stands. He has provided, and that provision will not run short for this journey.'

Again they walked on, in silence. At last, Maccabees added, 'It is not good, Starr, for you to be angry with Stone.'

She nodded miserably. 'I know. But... we were so happy before. We were in love! And now... Oh, Maccabees! I could almost wish it was you I was supposed to be in love with, instead of him. At least you seem to like being around me!'

He said nothing, waiting till she looked at him. Then he answered gently, 'You know, little one, that I am not one who can marry.'

Yes. She knew. But it didn't make her a bit less miserable.

They walked on, her hand in his. Round the camp, keeping the watch. Round the camp again.

'Hi, Mac,' came a voice through the darkness. 'I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd go ahead and take over the watch and let you go rest. Didn't figure you would mind. I left a note for James, to let him know I was swapping watches with him.'

Starr froze. Guiltily, she realized she was still hand-in-hand with the cherub. She dropped Maccabees' hand quickly and hid her hands behind herself.

For the voice, and now the figure looming up from the night, from the direction of the camp -

Was Stone.

~~~~~~~

He stopped, hesitated, then came closer. 'Starr?'

'Good, good evening, Stone,' she whispered.

His eyes were bouncing back and forth between her and Maccabees. And it wasn't hard to guess what he was thinking.

'Good evening,' said Maccabees. 'Thank you, Stone. I hope you will be able to sleep after your watch. I will go now.' And he walked towards the camp.

And stopped, Starr noticed, close enough to keep an eye on what would transpire between her and Stone. If Stone noticed that the angel had not gone all the way back to the camp, he gave no sign of it. He just stood there, looking at Starr, his eyes moving restlessly from her face to the ground to her face to the sky...

'Mac's not married, is he?' Stone asked at last.

'...No...' she answered slowly. Nor could he marry, she knew. But Maccabees had asked her to not reveal that he was an angel, so she didn't say the rest of what she was thinking.

Stone was silent for a very long time.

'Do you want me to go?' Starr ventured at last.

'Yes - no! Starr...'

She waited, wondering.

'Starr...' His face twisted, miserable. 'Look... If you'd... rather be with Mac than with me... I can understand that.'

She stared at him. Rather...! But she hadn't been with Stone in ages! He had thrust her away. How...?

She said nothing. There was nothing she could think of to say, that wouldn't just make things worse.

'...I need to walk, do this watch...' he added. 'So I need to go.'

She nodded.

'You get right to bed?' said he.

Another nod. She held the tears in till she was far enough away from him that he wouldn't hear her.

Maccabees met her, escorted her back to the camp.

'He thinks I'm interested in you now!' she whispered.

'I am sorry,' the cherub replied.

She shook her head, mopping the tears off her face before she entered her tent lest anyone within see that she'd been crying. That was all she needed, for one of them to start asking awkward questions!

Could it possibly, she wondered, get any worse?

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 3, chapter 13 - 'second report'

2006-01-13T11:51:00.000-06:00

'Man! Would you look at me?' said Seth. 'I'm so nervous here, my hands are shaking! I ain't been this nervous since... since... Well, I ain't never been nervous.' He glanced up the stairs. 'When you expect 'em to get here?'

'Well,' said Forest, 'first Lucy and Linda report in to Mac. Then Mac reports to Jack and Morgen. Then they report to Joy and Mal. And then the pair of them come to see us.'

'Takes a while,' added James. Since their meeting with the Master that morning, James' face had begun to feel a great deal better. He wasn't quite up to speaking a lot yet though.

'And after we talk with them, then it's...?' And Seth finished his question with a hefty finger pointing downstairs.

'All the way down to the lowest level, yeah,' said Forest.

As James whispered, 'Sh - listen!'

From above their heads came a minor sound - was that a stairway door closing? And more light sounds - feet descending?

'Two pairs of feet, sounds like,' Forest whispered to the others.

'At least,' James agreed.

Seth, also listening, put in, 'That ain't guards. That's someone doing their best to be sneaky. Guards don't hafta be sneaky.'

'Unless it's guards trying to sneak up on us.'

Seth turned to frown towards the boy for a few seconds. And then, 'All right,' the big man conceded, 'I'll give you that one. Might just be the guards after all. I ain't ever known them to go sneaking about, but then I ain't never been outta my cell, planning a jail break neither.' A pause. 'Guess we'll find out mighty quick, eh?'

Three pairs of eyes gazed up the stairs. Two sets of hands made ready to draw swords if need be, while the remaining hands got set to bash some skulls. Just as soon as any guards might come into sight...

The light trip of small feet floated down from the landing just above, along with the soft swish of a skirt. A girlish voice called out softly, 'Forest? James?'

It was Joy.

~~~~~~~

She sure was living up to her name. As she spotted her friends, her face beamed brighter than the torches along the stairwell wall. And when she caught sight of the big man standing there with her friends, her eyes lit up even more so.

'Is that Logan?' she asked.

Nervousness hit the big guy like a ton of bricks all over again. 'Not no more, little lady,' he said, feeling suddenly like his hands and feet were way too big, and he had nowhere to hide them. 'That is... I mean to say... well, the Master done give me a new name. So now I'm Seth.'

The slip of a girl sparkled merrily at him. 'Oh, how wonderful!' she exclaimed. 'Then you're my new brother. I'm Joy.' And as her small hand was swallowed up in his great paw, she glanced back up the stairs. 'And here's...'

Forest hissed quickly to James, 'There's still more than one set of footsteps coming!'

'Oh, here he is - Malachi,' said Joy, as his feet came into view. 'And also...'

A tall girl, every bit as blushing and nervous as Seth, crowded along behind Malachi, peeking out at them all.

'...this is our new sister Talitha,' Joy finished.

'Hi,' Talitha whispered, just barely in the audible range.

'Hi, good to meet you,' Forest said brusquely, adding, 'Joy, do you realize what you just did? Don't you ever do anything like that again!'

Baffled, Joy asked, 'What did I do?'

'Running ahead of Malachi like that,' said the boy.

'And calling out our names,' added James.

'Yeah, you couldn't know for sure that it was us waiting here for you. Might have been guards.'

'But it was you,' said Joy.

'It might also,' put in Malachi, 'have been Forest and James as decoys, set here by the guards as bait for the trap. You have been leery of traps, you may recall.'

'But,' said Joy. And stopped. And considered.

'I'm sorry,' she admitted. 'You're right, all of you. I could have been running into a trap.'

'Stick closer to Mal from now on, ok?' said Forest.

'Yes, sir,' said Joy meekly.

Seth snorted. '...sir...' he echoed.

And Forest blushed bright red.

~~~~~~~

Recovering herself, Joy said to Talitha, 'Well, that's Forest. And this is James,' as the man with the bruised face reached out and shook the tall girl's hand in greeting. 'And this is Logan. Oops, sorry. I mean, this is Seth.'

'How you do, ma'am,' big Seth rumbled, doing his best to keep the usual boom in his voice down to a distant thunder. And to Joy, 'Don't worry none about messing up my name. I'm still getting used to it being Seth, too.'

'Yeah,' the new girl agreed. 'At least for me, Talitha isn't so different from my old name of Talia.'

'Talitha means little girl,' put in Joy.

Talitha blushed again. 'Yeah, that's what the Master told me he was going to make me become. His own little girl.' The scar across her cheek, still visible, seemed to fade in the light of the sweet remembrance of her meeting with the Master.

'This is good news,' James beamed, venturing out into his longest speech since he was captured back in the valley. 'Yesterday, Stephen. Today, Seth and Talitha.'

'And Rose too!' said Joy, bouncing with delight. 'Jack told us. We didn't get to meet her yet, but she used to be Ginger. So we've got over half our people now!'

'Four down, three to go - counting Walker,' said Forest. 'Any word on Beatriz?'

'Yes,' said Malachi, 'but that is the sad news we bear you.' Briefly he related the fearful declaration the woman had made to Maccabees, insisting that she would only trust Walker and no one else.

Forest's eyes darkened. 'That stinks.'

'What about Walker? Anybody found him yet?' Seth asked.

Malachi shook his head. 'No. All the levels below ground, from the ground level where Lucy and Linda are, down to our own level just above you, have now been searched. With no sign of Walker at all.'

'Yeah, and he ain't here neither,' asserted Seth. 'The guards ain't brought anyone new down here for the past three weeks, cause I'da known it if they had.' Then he frowned. 'Aw. That sounded braggy. I didn't mean it that way. Just - he ain't here. They don't bring someone new in here without all of us catching wind of it.' And then he added, 'Sorry.'

'Then we must continue the search,' said Malachi. 'Jack and Stephen, as the Master commanded them, plan to begin tomorrow to search the above-ground levels. Also, as the prisoners on Talitha's level have been taken up to the guards' quarters these past few days, we three plan to follow and search up there.'

'Good,' said James. 'And there's still some levels between this one and the lowest. We can search those.'

'And we haven't gotten Stone's report yet,' put in Forest. 'I'm still hoping he'll have some good news for us from down there. It's not impossible that he might have found Walker today, you know.'

No, not impossible - but in their hearts most of them felt it just wasn't very likely.

~~~~~~~

They made their farewells then and Joy, Malachi, and Talitha set out to return upstairs. While Forest, James, and Seth began the dark descent into the deepest bowels of this prison.

'I ain't never been down here,' muttered Seth, mostly to himself. 'Heard rumors. Supposed to be ten times worse'n where I was - which ain't easy to believe.'

The darkness swallowed them, somehow robbing the lit torches they passed of any luster. All light was only oily, dim, discouraged. Even if they hadn't been moving as silently as possible, the very atmosphere around them would have stripped from them any desire to be heard or noticed or recognized. By the time they reached the final landing before the absolute depths, it was as if all light and sound and heart were nothing but distant fading memories - if not myths.

They stopped. Forest, with a nod to the others, glided on ahead of them. He crouched down on the stairs and leaned forward to peek round that final corner. Was there...?

'Yep, someone's down there,' he reported softly.

'Stone?' James asked just as softly.

'Someone tall...' said Forest. He pushed forward a bit more, trying to catch sight of the person's face. It was shrouded in shadow...

The tall someone alerted then, turning to peer up the stairs towards where Forest was still crouched. The torchlight fell on only the right half of the someone's face, but that was enough for the boy to tell.

'Yeah, it's Stone.'

'Alone?'

'Yes.'

They descended, still wary. Stone, also wary, had laid a hand on his sword hilt, only relaxing after he recognized in the torchlight his friends. Quickly they introduced to him his big hulking new brother.

If Seth had thought he was nervous, that was nothing compared to the raw stress they could all read on the half of Stone's face they could see. 'Glad to see you guys,' he said.

'Rough day?' asked Forest.

'You could say that,' Stone replied. 'And to answer the next question I know you're about to ask: No, no sign of Walker. And to answer the next question after that...'

And now Stone turned to face them full-on, so that the dim light for the first time fell across his left cheek.

His left eye.

His black and swollen left eye.

'What happened to you?' erupted all three at once.

Stone's mouth twitched. 'Let's just say that Starr's little buddy from Solitary packs quite a wallop.'

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 3, chapter 12 - 'ginger'

2006-01-06T15:16:00.000-06:00

***i didn't do something i should have done before writing this chapter; i didn't go back and read chapter 6, 'first report' where i last left Lucy and Linda. Oh, did this chapter not match up with that one! did some rewriting today therefore - rewriting at that chapter as well.***

As the door closed behind Mac, Lucy planted her fists on her hips and scowled. 'He really has a lot of nerve!' she whispered.

'Uh huh,' replied Linda. A glance at her companion told Lucy that Linda was nigh on falling asleep right then and there. This would never do. Taking Linda's arm, Lucy steered her companion towards the nearest corridor. Mac's 'small favor' would just have to wait, she decided; right now, what the two of them needed most was to reach the broom closet safely so that they could get some deeply needed sleep.

But as they reached the end of the long corridor, with the closet already in sight, Linda gave herself a little shake and looked around. 'Oh,' she said. 'Did we stop at Ginger's already?'

'No,' said Lucy shortly.

Linda peered at her through bleary eyes. 'Why not?'

'Because,' said Lucy, 'you just sleep-walked that entire corridor. Mac's little errand can surely wait till morning...'

'But we promised...' Linda protested weakly.

'Did we? I didn't.'

'Didn't we?' Linda blinked owlishly. 'I thought I did.'

'Just come on and rest,' said Lucy, starting for the closet. But when she got there and looked back for Linda, she spotted her heading back up the hallway they had cleaned this day.

'Marvelous,' Lucy muttered. For Linda was swooping and swaying as she walked as if she were drunk. Hurrying to catch up, she hissed, 'Linda, it's time to sleep!'

'Yeah, yeah. Right after we do this.'

Whatever has gotten into her? Lucy wondered peevishly. 'All right then,' she whispered. 'But very quickly. And I'll look in. You can barely see to walk, much less to see if Ginger's found the note.'

Briskly Lucy strode off up the corridor, not waiting for Linda to follow. As she reached the proper door, she wondered briefly how she would even know if Ginger had read the note. But no matter. Do this quickly, then off to sleep.

She looked in through the small window in the cell door.

And instantly sprang backwards.

~~~~~~~

That woke them both up. Ready to draw her sword, Linda hurried to Lucy's side. 'What happened?' she hissed.

Lucy's hand had flown to still her racing heart, as a thoroughly stunned look swept over her face. 'Someone was looking back!' she said.

'Huh?'

At the same moment a frightened voice called from inside the cell, 'Who's out there?'. Followed almost immediately by, 'Oh my... oh my goodness! It's Carol! Carol, dear!' the voice went on, now gladsome. 'Why, wherever have you been for all this time? You went missing simply months and months ago, and...' And then a gasp. 'Why... I found a note under my pillow this evening, and couldn't sleep for wondering from whom it came. It was signed with a name I didn't recognize. You're... you're never this mysterious 'Lucy,' are you?'

Linda turned and looked at Lucy. 'You signed your new name on it?'

'Did I?' said Lucy. Surely she hadn't been that thoughtless; Ginger would not know who Lucy was! But then, thinking back on the writing of the note - then Lucy remembered. And blushed burned bright red.

Leaning close, Linda added softly, 'I take it this is Ginger?'

'Ah - oh - yes. Yes. Ginger, let me introduce my new friend, Linda. And, Linda, this is my - do I say 'old'? - friend Ginger. And, Ginger,' she added, 'yes, I'm Lucy now.'

'How do you do, Linda?' said the voice from inside the door. 'What a lovely name - as is the name Lucy. But then, I liked the name Carol as well.' And then she added, 'I would invite you in, my dears, but of course, the door is locked. I would have to summon someone from security to come and open it for us. And I do so hate to bother them after hours.'

Security? wondered Linda. Does she mean the guards?

Lucy recovered herself enough to produce her key. She held it up before the window so Ginger could see it, then unlocked the door.

The door opened. And Linda got her first look at Ginger.

Wow.

~~~~~~~

There stood Ginger, dressed in a gown that was almost certainly silk, the candlelight setting off her casually beautiful coif, the smile on her face regal and elegant. She lifted her arms, the graceful and intricately wrought chains that dangled from her wrists glittering as gold, and embraced Lucy. 'Carol, my dear!' she effused, as she gave the woman a kiss on the cheek that never actually touched her cheek. Turning to Linda, Ginger gave her the same greeting - Linda distinctly heard the little smeck that landed in the air near her ear. It was the kind of kiss, Linda suspected, that was devised to muss neither hairstyle nor make-up.

'Come in, come in,' Ginger welcomed them warmly.

There was nothing especially special about the room; it was like all the others they had cleaned this day. But somehow, inhabited by Ginger, it was now a chamber of royalty. Noblesse oblige fairly oozed from the woman, scenting the very air about her. Gracefully, graciously, she swept before them, offering the lone chair to Linda, apologizing for the lack of extra seating to Lucy, patting the thick, silk-sheeted mattress of her bed as invitation for Lucy to take a seat there. And then, spreading her sumptuous skirts, she too perched on the edge of the bed, looking for all the world like a princess taking her throne.

'How wonderful to see you again, Ca... ah, Lucy. You disappeared well over a year ago, and none of us knew what had become of you.'

Before Lucy could attempt to explain, Ginger leaned closer and added, 'Mind you, there have been plenty of rumors, dear. Some said one thing; some another. The chief rumor I heard was that you had been banished, ah, downstairs,' and she said that word with, oh! such repugnance, 'for some flagrant breach of etiquette. Which of course I knew to be a lie. The Committee so rarely resorts to such extreme measures. And had you been such a very very bad girl,' and she chucked Lucy under the chin, 'I'd have surely noticed.'

The woman talks in underlinings, thought Linda.

'Now,' Ginger added, 'it did occur to me that perhaps you might have moved to one of the, ah, inferior levels,' (Linda nearly gagged), 'in order to bring enlightenment and refinement to the poor unwashed masses who reside down there - tis our burden as the upper class, you know.'

Lucy was nearly gagging as well. Was this really how the people here were - how she herself had been when she'd lived here? She didn't remember being so - so full of herself. 'Well, that's not where I was,' she began, but at the same time, Linda asked, 'Who's this Committee?'

'Oh, my dear,' said Ginger, 'it is they who watch over our way of life here among the, shall we say, upper crust. They keep a sharp eye out for any infractions in order to ensure the well-being of us all. Now, no one knows who the members of the Committee are, for they meet in secret, and I understand in disguise, and are sworn not to reveal themselves to any.'

'Charming system. You mean like secret police?' asked Linda. Having come from one of those lower levels populated by the 'poor unwashed masses,' she was having a fight on the inside, trying to not get offended at this insufferable woman's high-and-mighty ways.

'Oh, you make it sound so sinister,' Ginger replied merrily.

'Isn't it?'

Linda met Queen Ginger's eyes evenly, met and held them. And slowly, blinking and blinking, Ginger dropped her head. 'Actually, it is,' she said softly.

~~~~~~~

And suddenly the grand facade crumbled and was gone. No more masquerade. Instead of royalty, Ginger was abruptly a smaller-than-life person, a little woman with carefully hidden crow's-feet and sadly sagging jowls.

'Ginger?' said Lucy.

The woman looked up at her, then again at Linda, then down at her own two hands twisting uncomfortably in her silken lap.

'What is it, Ginger?' Lucy prompted.

She looked up again, glancing towards the door. Pitching her voice so low the other two could scarcely hear her, she said, 'You mustn't tell anyone I said this. You've no notion the world of trouble I would be in if one word of what I'm about to tell you, ah, got out. But...' and now she was talking to her contorting hands, 'I'm... a member of the Committee...'

Lucy blinked, astonished. 'You? You mean to tell me that all those years...'

'Yes,' said Ginger meekly. 'That's how I knew, of course, that you hadn't been banished.'

'You're a snitch?' said Linda.

'Oh my, no,' said Ginger, some of her archness creeping back in. 'The Committee is the elite of the elite, the creme de la creme, the uppermost layer of all the upper crust. The acme of all that we might aspire to. We are...'

'Oh, I get it,' Linda broke in. 'A whole flock of stool pigeons, climbing to the top by trampling everyone else under foot.'

Ginger's eyes snapped. 'I ought to be thoroughly put out with you, Linda,' said she. 'But the problem is that... you're right.' She turned to Lucy. 'She's right, and it took me all this time to ever see it.'

'What happened to open your eyes?'

'You remember,' and suddenly she found it hard to go on, 'Mi...Millicent?'

'Millicent? Why, of course. That little birdlike woman, frail as gossamer. Yes, I remember her.'

'It, it was so foolish,' Ginger went on, her hands twisting in on themselves once again. 'All she did, dear, was give a tea. But she didn't invite - well, I daren't name the name - but she didn't invite the one woman who wields the most influence in the Committee. And for this slight, that woman - oh, Carol! She forced the rest of us to punish little Millicent. To, to send her, well, downstairs. To one of those barbarous levels, full of men who do little else but fight each other all day long. And we sent her there to char.'

And now Linda caught a glimpse of what that must mean to these upper level royals, to be forced to char even for their peers. Much less to clean up after people they viewed as hardly a step up from brute beasts.

'What happened then?' asked Lucy, dread seizing at her heart - for good reason, she was sure.

'Two men from security escorted her down there. And when they arrived, they found...' A shudder quaked through Ginger's being. 'Oh! It was hideous! Three men were holding down a fourth as they beat him and beat him. And the security who worked that level were laughing as they held back yet another man till the first three were done bludgeoning the poor fellow. And then, as the fourth man lay bleeding on the floor, the security released - or should I say, unleashed - the man they had been holding back. And he, seeing that the man on the floor was nearly dead, he... he... Oh, Carol. He killed those other men! Right in front of poor Millicent. And the shock of it was so great that, that...'

Ginger was weeping, her tears soaking unheeded into the fine silk of her gown. Lucy put her arms round her, patting her shoulder, murmuring comfortingly, 'It's all right, Ginger, it's all right.'

'But it isn't,' Ginger insisted. 'Poor, sweet, fragile little Millicent - her heart gave out from the horror of what she saw. The security men carried her back up here to us. And she was dead, Carol! And, oh, the look in her eyes...!'

Once again a shudder shook her whole being. 'That's when I saw at last what we truly are. What beasts we are, for all our refinement and lofty ways. It sickened me. And yet...'

'And yet when your old friend shows up unexpectedly,' put in Linda, 'you put on the dog like old times.'

Ginger winced. But nodded. 'Yes. You're right. I know what we are. I see what we are. Yet I keep up appearances just like the rest. It's as if I can't stop myself.'

'Or don't want to?'

'I want to!' Ginger flashed. 'At least... I think I want to. It was so disgusting, the way the others in the Committee - oh, yes, I know who all the others are; we just put forth the propaganda,' ('Lies,' muttered Linda), 'that we are all secret one from another - the way she who condemned Millicent smirked over the poor little corpse - the way her friends,' ('Toadies,' muttered Linda), 'simpered and fawned, and agreed that Millicent had gotten no better than she had deserved...' And Ginger dissolved into misery.

'Ugh,' said Lucy. She rummaged in her pack and found a bit of cloth to wipe her old friend's tears.

'Thank you,' Ginger whispered, and leaned against Lucy. Sniffling, she added, 'It's not that I don't want to change. But this is all I've ever known. Who I am is,' and she swept her arms out, taking in the whole level, 'what we are here. I don't know any other way. I don't know how to change. And... I'm frightened. It's very daunting, you know.'

Lucy was nodding. 'You can't change yourself. And it's ridiculous to even try.'

'Yes! And yet... you are different, Ca... I mean, Lucy. You have changed.'

Lucy smiled and glanced over at Linda. 'Yeah, more than you know, she's changed,' Linda grinned.

'But how?' Ginger asked in anguish.

'Not how,' said Lucy, taking Ginger's hands into her own. 'Who. The Master has changed me.'

'The Master...' Ginger echoed, hiccupping. 'That's who Walker told me of. But I didn't... I wasn't sure...'

'What did Walker tell you?'

'Oh, fantastic things - about life and death and blood shed for me.' She sniffed. 'You know, if Walker had shown up one day earlier, before that horrible thing happened to Millicent, I would have - oh, turned up my nose at him, I suppose - been affronted at his insults - taken offense at his declaration that without the Master I was nothing and less than nothing. How dare he, hmm? Oh, yes, I would have withered him with a glance, then summoned security to throw such a vulgar fellow out.'

She studied her hands once again. 'Seeing Millicent like that - it changed everything.'

'The Master's timing is perfect,' said Linda.

'It certainly is.'

Lucy's head came up. She hadn't said that, nor had Linda, nor obviously had Ginger. So who...?

Who indeed.

~~~~~~~

Ginger looked at Lucy and Linda in confusion. 'Who is that? And how did he get here? The door...'

'No locked door can keep out the Master,' said Linda.

'Only a locked heart,' said he.

Ginger's face went pale. 'The, the Master?' she squeaked.

His arms opened wide as he smiled on the startled woman. 'Daughter,' he said. 'Would you like that? To be my daughter?'

Sniffle. 'Y-yes...'

'Then give me all. All that you are. All that you have. All that you hope. All that you fear. All. And in return, I will give you - peace. And myself. Is that not a good bargain?'

'I... I...'

'Won't you unlock your heart to me, Ginger? Wouldn't you like to leave this place, which is your father's house, and come away with me to mine?' His eyes twinkled as he added, 'You will not be rich royalty there as you are here. Will that be all right?'

Blink. Puzzlement flashed over Linda's face.

'I...' said Ginger. 'I think I... Yes. I'm sick of this, of what I am. I just want to be - plain. Ordinary. Real.'

'Real you shall be. Mine you shall be. Simple, and cherished. My daughter.' And his arms were yet open to her.

'Master,' Ginger wept. And then she rushed to his embrace.

He held her. How he held her! Long and lovingly he held her close. And when he released the embrace...

She was changed. Transformed. The rich silk had become plain linen, simple and white. Her rich coif had become simple as well. The chains lay forgotten on the floor behind her. And her face...

Now held peace.

The Master touched her cheek gently, pressed a kiss to forehead. 'And now you are my daughter. You are Rose.'

A blooming blush spread across her face like joy. 'Rose,' she smiled back to him.

'Greet your sisters,' said he.

Light-hearted as a little child, she turned and embraced Lucy and Linda. No silly air-kisses now; she grabbed each in turn and kissed them for real, with laughter, with love. For the next few minutes, the room was filled with giggles.

~~~~~~~

As the merry gabble went on, Lucy could not be thoroughly happy. She spotted the Master regarding her quietly. Oh dear. She turned away.

And found him standing right behind her.

She jumped, understandably. 'Well?' said he.

She hung her head. 'Yes, sir,' she whispered. 'I'm sorry.'

'And you are forgiven for becoming angry with Maccabees.' He touched her chin, raising her face to his. 'And you will need to apologize to him when next you see him.'

'Yes, sir,' she said again.

'Good.' And his stern demeanor vanished as he smiled upon her. 'Trust a little more, my daughter,' he said. And then he was no longer before her.

Suddenly Linda found herself elbow to elbow with the Master. To her, he said softly, 'Ask.'

'I don't understand,' said she.

'That is why you must ask,' he prompted. 'And...?'

'You told Gin - I mean Rose - that she will not be rich or royalty when she comes to your house. But when you came for me back when I was here, you promised me both. That I would be rich, and would be royal.'

'True.'

'And... that's what I don't understand.'

He smiled. 'When I found you here, my Linda, were you rich or royal?'

'No. I was poor as dirt and - well, I don't like to remember the rest.'

'But what of Rose? Does she need riches or status?'

'No. No, she's had both, and she's sick of them.'

'While you had the opposite, and were sick of that. So tell me, my daughter, my beautiful Linda - do you have riches now?'

She thought. 'If you mean riches like silk clothing and gold jewelry - no, of course not. But I know you now, and that the best riches of all.'

He smiled, his eyes crinkling merrily. 'And that is exactly what I promised you. Rose, on the other hand, shall have what she needs, which is the simplicity of knowing me.' A pause, and he added, 'Are you royalty, dear?'

And now it was Linda's eyes crinkling with delight. 'I'm better,' she responded. 'I'm your daughter.'

'Exactly. And that is royalty enough, as well as simplicity enough, for any and all. So, Linda - do you understand now, my little one?'

'I think I do. It's because Rose and I come from such different places. What I needed, you gave me; you made me somebody in you. And you're giving Rose what she needs. To be nobody.'

'To be ordinary, and no longer high-and-mighty above others, yes. Just as you, dear,' and he tilted her chin up to meet his compassionate eyes, 'are no longer anyone's kicking post.'

Linda swallowed hard then, the tears springing up. 'I love you,' she whispered as he took her into his arms.

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 3, chapter 11 - 'stephen... and beatriz'

2005-12-30T00:12:00.000-06:00

'Roll call!'

The smash of a fist on the cell door accompanied the massive voice growling out, 'You, Rob! Roll call in five minutes! Get a move on in there!'

The former Rob stared, hollow-eyed, across at Jack, who for his part was also a bit shaken by the onslaught of that voice. Only Morgen seemed unaffected by it. The tromp of heavy feet out in the corridor told them that the guard was moving on to the next door down the hall. They heard him hammer on that next door and rumble out his merry wake-up call at the next poor bloke stuck in these cells.

Stephen let out his pent-up breath. Then he turned to Jack and whispered, 'He's not going to do it again, is he?'

'Do what?' said Jack.

'Take my place, the way he did yesterday morning. You think Morgen's going to do that again?'

'I have no clue,' Jack replied. He too had been stunned the previous morning when one of the guards had unlocked the door. Stephen had been glumly heading for the door when Morgan stopped him and strode up to the guard instead. And the guard, apparently without ever noticing the real Stephen (or Jack either, for that matter), had grabbed Morgen by the arm and hauled him off in Stephen's place.

'How could that guard have mistaken him for me yesterday?' the much-shorter Stephen added, nodding over at stately Morgen. 'How could anyone?'

'Beats me,' said Jack. 'He woulda had to been bli...' And then, in the middle of the word 'blind,' Jack remembered the vast army of guards staggering their way back to the fortress. And he said no more.

A key scraped into the lock. 'Continue the search,' said Morgen quietly. He stepped towards the door as it opened. Though Morgen easily towered over the guard who now entered, the guard barely glanced at him. 'C'mon, Rob,' he grunted, propelling Morgen out the door and away.

Stephen just stood there, shaking his head. 'Off to the grind he goes again,' he said after the door closed them in once more. 'And in my place.'

'The grind?' asked Jack.

'Oh yeah, you know - the work they make us do.'

'What kind of work?'

Stephen shrugged. 'Hard work. But dumb. Just busy work. Makes you feel like you're accomplishing a lot, but it's all meaningless.' Absently he picked up a figurine from the top of the dresser next to him, turning it over in his hand. 'Like hamsters running in a wheel,' he said.

And then he realized what he had done. He stood there, frowning down at the little figurine he was holding. Then, looking up, he took in the piles and piles of stuff clogging his cell. His frown deepened. 'You know what?' he muttered.

'I know a few things,' quipped Jack.

'Hmm? Oh. Sorry. Thinking out loud, I guess.' Gesturing at all the stuff, he added, 'Most of this ain't mine, you know. I stole it. Snuck around here, there, and everywhere, making off with whatever caught my eye.' Gently he set the figurine back in its place. A nod. 'I gotta give it all back.'

Jack whistled. 'That's a big job.'

'Yeah, but - I can't keep it all. Right? Not when the stuff isn't mine.'

'True.' Jack dropped into the cell's only chair, plopping himself down on it backwards so he could rest his arms on the back. 'But if you start doing all that, when will we have time to search for Walker?'

Stephen sighed, closed his eyes, rubbed at the bridge of his nose. 'Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Walker comes first. And besides...' He looked over the accumulation of many years once more. '...soon as we can find him, we'll be out of here. And once I'm gone, everyone I took the stuff from can just come here and get it back.' Reaching up to spin a gaudy bauble hanging from the ceiling, he added, mostly to himself, 'Not like I remember half the names of who all I nicked the stuff from anyway...'

For a moment, they both fell quiet. And in that quiet, they heard all too plainly the clamor still going on out in the corridor. Roll call must now be finished, for the guards were roughly herding the prisoners away, taking them off to the workrooms for this day's grind.

Listening, Stephen winced in sympathy. Up until two days ago, that would have been him as well...

And then Stephen stiffened.

'What's wrong?' asked Jack.

For now a grimace had spread over Stephen's face. 'Idiot,' he muttered darkly.

Jack glanced round the empty room, then looked back up at Stephen. 'Um... there ain't no one here but you and me. So, unless there's someone hiding under the bed there, I'm guessing - I'm the idiot...?'

Stephen sighed. 'No, I am. I mean, look at me, Jack! Here I was, throwing accusations at the Master about him letting people he loves rot in these dungeons. And I was about to do the very same thing. My brother!'

Jack shook his head, confused. 'Brother? You mean Walker? We're just about to go look for him, remember?'

'No, no, not Walker. My brother. My own flesh-and-blood.' And Stephen pointed at the floor under his feet. 'He's been down there for years now, and here I was just going to walk away from these dungeons without giving him a single thought. He's gotta go with us!'

A spark lit inside Jack for some reason. 'Down there? Down where?'

'All the way down,' said Stephen.

'The lowest level? Really?'

'Yeah. Though I don't know see why that should start you grinning like that.'

Jack was all but laughing out loud. 'Happens we've got a team down there,' he replied. 'All the way down on the lowest level, ready to bring someone to the Master and get them out of these dungeons forevermore.' And then he sat and watched in delight all the emotions that splashed over Stephen's face.

'A, a team?' Stephen managed at last. Oh, the man could barely talk! 'Who...?' he stammered. 'Who...?'

'Starr and Stone. You haven't met them yet.'

'No,' Stephen shook his head. 'Not that. I didn't... I mean, who...?'

'Oh, who are they going after? Well, that's the part we don't know. Walker never got down that far. So they're searching the lowest dungeon for anyone they can find who's ready to get out of there.'

Tears hit Stephen's eyes as his face fell. 'Oh, man,' he whispered. 'Oh, I hope they find my brother! And I sure hope he wants to leave with us! Can you imagine,' he added fervently, 'can you imagine how wonderful it would be, to get see your own brother set free too?'

'Actually,' said Jack very quietly, very soberly, as a long-ago memory swelled into his mind, 'I can imagine it very well.'

~~~~~~~

Silence at length reigned out in the corridors. Jack popped up from the chair and crossed the cell to stick his ear to the door. Nothing. 'All right,' he said, 'I think it's time. Let's go.'

Together they headed out into a silent world. With everyone hauled away to the workrooms for the day, the corridors were echoingly empty. So Jack and Stephen did all they could to keep from creating any echoes.

Two at a time, the same as they had done all day long the day before, the pair of them checked the rooms. Jack took the left-hand side of the corridor, while Stephen had the right. Slide the key into the lock, turn it softly, open the door, slip in, look around, slip out again, close the door. And then on to the next room. Listen for guards. Watch each other's back.

And so the day passed. One cell soon blurred into the next. Stomachs rumbled with hunger after several hours, and they hid in an empty cell while Jack brought out some of the apples from his pack to make a very sketchy lunch of. And then they went on, room after room, hour after hour.

They reached, at length, the last cell of the last corridor. And still no Walker. 'All right,' said Jack. 'If he isn't here, then we go up to the next level like the Master said, and we get started searching there.'

'Up,' said Stephen wistfully.

'Yeah. So?'

A shrug. 'It's just... be nice if it was down, so we could maybe help my brother too.'

Jack nodded. 'Yeah. Well, we can hope Starr and Stone find him. And anyway, the Master knows. And he loves your brother even more than you do. Just talk to him about it. Trust him with it.' A pause and a smile. 'After all, the Master got my brother out of here.'

'Yeah? Really?'

'Yup. Sure did.'

They walked in silence towards the stairway door. And just as they reached it, Stephen added softly, 'Thanks, Jack. That's good to know.' And with a swipe at the tears threatening to sting his eyes, he added, 'I sure hope he'll get mine out too.'

'Yeah,' said Jack. 'I'm praying for that.' And then they slipped through the door and on up the stairs.

~~~~~~~

This level was as empty and deserted as the one they'd just left. Quickly, for they were sure the day must be far spent now, the two set to the work, this time Jack taking the right side and Stephen the left. And into the same routine as before they fell: sliding the key into the lock, turning it softly, opening the door, slipping in, looki...

'Did you hear something?' Stephen whispered.

Hear something? Jack froze where he was, his key hovering at the next door's lock as he listened. And then frowned. The level was quiet, so quiet.

Too quiet.

Slowly Jack straightened up and turned to look at Stephen. Something... something... He couldn't put his finger on it, but something had just definitely... changed. As if in response, all the hair on the back of Jack's neck suddenly stood up at attention.

From across the corridor, Stephen was staring back at him. 'What is it?' he mouthed.

Oh, there, that was the question, all right. Slipping his key into his pocket, Jack dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword as he swiveled his head to glance up the corridor, looking back in the direction they had just come from.

Out of the tail of his eye, Jack saw Stephen do the same.

There was nothing there.

Jack's frown deepened. He started to turn again to check the other way...

'Be not afraid.'

Stifling a yelp, Stephen jumped half out of his skin as sweat bloomed abruptly all over him. And Jack, in a single fluid motion that Forest would have been proud of, both spun about and drew his sword at the same moment, bringing the sharp tip up to confront the sudden interloper. Tensely, Jack faced down the length of his sword, scowling at... at...

Maccabees.

No one moved for a moment. And then Jack dropped the sword to his side as all the air whooshed out of him. 'Mac! Man, you scared me out of ten years' growth,' Jack grumbled good-naturedly as he gladly sheathed his weapon.

'Which are now restored you,' Mac smiled in answer. 'Hello, Stephen,' he added.

Stephen nodded a greeting in return, his heart still racing. Finding his voice again, he asked, 'You're the one from upstairs, aren't you? The one I met last night?'

'Yes, Stephen.'

'Then what are you doing down here?' There was a definite tinge of belligerence in the little man's voice - understandable, perhaps, given the dramatic entrance Mac had just made.

'I am doing the same as you are,' Mac replied easily. 'I am searching for Walker.'

'But I thought you were supposed to be searching your own level,' Stephen went on. 'Or did I misunderstand what you were all talking about when you reported in last night?'

'You misunderstood nothing,' Mac replied mildly. 'I have finished searching my level.'

'I don't guess you found...' Jack put in, then caught himself. 'No. If you'd found Walker, you would have said so right off.'

'You are correct, Jack.'

'That still doesn't explain what you're doing here,' Stephen went on, still upset. 'Once you were done with your level, the Master's orders were for you to go to the level above you. Right? Or did you misunderstand?'

'Stephen...' Jack began.

But Mac broke in, his voice still soft, still calm. 'I finished that level as well, my friend. And so I came here to help you check this one.'

'You... finished?' Stunned, Stephen stammered out, 'But... but... how? How could you get finished that quickly? The two of us working together barely got done with ours just now. And we've been at it two days!'

'Oh,' Jack said suddenly, his voice quite hollow.

Stephen turned to look at him. 'What's the matter?'

Jack was staring at Maccabees. 'Something's happened, hasn't it?' he said. 'Something that's made it urgent that we find Walker right away now. Am I right? Please tell me I'm wrong.'

Mac met his gaze. 'Sadly, Jack,' he said, 'you are not wrong.'

'Oh, man. What? What happened?'

Quietly, Mac said, 'Early this morning, I was able to make contact with Beatriz.'

'Beatriz?' said Stephen. 'She's the one you're supposed to get out of here?'

'That I and Walker are supposed to get out, yes.'

'So... things didn't go so well?' Jack prompted.

A shake of the head. 'Fear holds the poor woman more surely that the chains on her wrists or the bars of this fortress,' said Mac.

Stephen shook his head. 'Meaning?'

'Meaning that she told me, quite bluntly, that until and unless she sees Walker standing at my side, she is too fearful to trust me or any other. She will not hear, nor will she listen to, any but the man Walker.' He spread his hands. 'And so without Walker...'

'She won't set foot out of this prison,' said Jack.

Mac nodded.

Stephen sighed. 'Yeah, we gotta find Walker. And fast!'

The clash of the stairway door opening echoed throughout the level, followed by the gabble of many guards leading many prisoners.

'But not right now, we won't,' muttered Jack. 'Come on. We gotta find a place to hide till the corridors clear out again and we can make our way back down to our own level.'

'There is a broom closet that way,' Mac pointed.

Nod. 'Thanks.'

And as Jack and Stephen hurried to the temporary shelter Mac had directed them to, neither of them noticed how Mac, behind them, suddenly and simply vanished from sight.

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 2, chapter 1 - 'into the valley'

2005-12-28T23:22:00.000-06:00

***another reposting into longer chapters, this time from part 2 - well, some rewriting too***

They didn't travel very far that day. To begin with, they had had a late start. They also weren't any of them used to being on the march all day - the focus of their training had been swords, not long-distance walking. And so they took frequent breaks to rest. They also, not knowing any better yet, took longer breaks than they really needed before getting back on the march.

On top of all that, the distance across to the entrance of the dark valley had looked deceptively close when they started out. But it turned out to take all day; the sun was nearly setting by the time they finally reached that dark passage.

'Let's stop here for the night,' said someone.

'Who was that?' Stone whispered to Starr. 'Jack or James?'

'Jack - I think,' she whispered back. Over the course of the day, they had been learning their companions' names. James and Jack were Lucy's two friends; they were brothers. 'James is the more serious one, and Jack's the one who makes the jokes. I think?'

'That sounds right,' Stone replied. 'Question is, when he said that, was he serious or joking?'

'Come on,' Forest was saying. 'We can make another mile maybe before we absolutely have to stop for the night.'

'But if we go in there now, at nearly nightfall,' said the other of Lucy's friends, 'with it being so dark in there - well, that just doesn't seem to be very wise to me. We might get into a situation in the dark that would be better faced in morning light.'

Stone and Starr looked to each other. 'James,' they whispered in unison.

'Well, if we're supposing what might happen, we might also come across a situation that waiting till morning would only make worse. Someone drowning in a lake, for instance,' Forest countered.

'We can suppose all night,' Lucy put in. 'Let's just go ahead and make camp now.' And the other two women - thin pale Linda and the young girl Joy - agreed.

Forest scowled. 'And the rest of you?' he challenged. 'What do you say? Malachi. What about you?'

Malachi, one of the three men Starr suspected were angels, spread his hands. 'We are here to journey with the rest of you. We will go or stay, as the company decides.'

Still scowling, Forest turned towards Stone. 'Well? What about you?' he growled.

'Me? I don't much care one way or the other either. Whatever the group decides is fine with me. But look. We have five already who strongly want to camp here. Those three are undecided. I'm undecided too. There's only one of us who strongly wants to move on, and that's you, Forest. Just looking at the numbers, I'd say you've got your work cut out for you if you hope to convince most of us to move on tonight.'

'Majority rule, is that it? But what if the majority is wrong?' Forest's eyes were lit with fire now, his chin set stubbornly.

'Unity,' Lucy returned sharply. 'Josh said to stay in unity. Right?'

'When he said unity, I don't think this is what he had in mind. Uniting together in cowardice like this!'

'Cowardice?' That was James, his voice soft and dangerous. 'Better watch your mouth, little boy,' he warned. 'You're getting in over your head.'

'I said cowardice and I meant cowardice. Cowering back, just because it's a little dark in there!' He snorted. 'If you're afraid of a little dark now, what will you do when you reach the dungeons? Huh? I mean, don't you get it? We're supposed to be carrying light to them! We're going to rescue people! The longer we take on the journey, the more people might be lost in the meantime.'

'Pressing on in the dark into some place that might be dangerous, when we are all tired and hungry - that's foolishness. We should rest now and eat, and tackle the next part of the journey fresh in the morning.' That was James again, and Jack and the three women nodded in agreement.

'You're saying I'm foolish now?' Forest glared.

'I'm saying... oh, stop this, Forest. Be reasonable.'

'And now I'm not reasonable!'

'At the moment, no! Now we,' and James shed his pack, dropping it on the ground, 'are staying here. Get into unity and stop dividing the group. We've already decided, and we're staying here!'

'So you five are the majority now?'

'We five know what we want to do. The other five don't mind. You're the only one being stubborn about this.' While behind James' back, Lucy, with her arms folded and her face dark with anger, muttered the word 'pig-headed.'

Forest caught that and scowled back. 'Yeah - call me names! That'll help. While your so-called 'majority' makes the stupid rules for everyone. You know, majority-rules is a pretty stupid system, if you ask me. You never know when the majority is going to act like a bunch of idiots!'

'No one asked you!' Lucy was saying, while Jack snapped, 'Oh, now we're idiots, eh? You think you're so big, Forest, because you fought a demon today. But nobody put you in charge of this group. So just back down and stop spouting off your mouth!'

The argument continued, Forest alone against Jack and James, with Lucy putting in an occasional acerbic comment against the boy as well. Stone and Starr looked helplessly at each other as the nasty comments grew worse and worse.

She clutched at his arm suddenly. 'Oh, Stone! Do something! This is terrible!'

He looked at her. 'Starr?' he said, surprised at how pale she had gone. 'Something happened?'

'Is happening... Please... They must stop!'

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Stone turned and said the first thing that came into his head: 'Uh, Forest. You remember how I said you had your work cut out for you to convince the others to agree with you? Well, if this is the plan to win them to your side - I don't think it's going to work too well.'

'Oh, and are you against me too, Stone?' the boy asked heatedly. 'Am I supposed to just shut my mouth and say nothing because the majority doesn't like it?'

'I'm not against you. But I can see how you could disagree without being so disagreeable. You can state your point of view without throwing in insults.'

'Hmph!' The boy turned on his heel and stalked away, climbing the slight incline that led into the dark valley itself.

'And the same goes for all of us,' Stone added, turning to the rest. 'There's no call to be insulting anyone. Even if they start with the insults first.'

'No one made you leader of this group either, Stone,' James spat, glowering.

'No, that's true. No one was made leader of this group at all. I think that's something else that time and the journey itself will show all of us - who the natural leader of this group is. But in the meantime, let's try not to act like a pack of wolves or some such.'

He was about to say more, but Starr had so plainly started just now that he turned and looked at her. 'Starr? You all right?'

'What you just said...' Her eyes were wide, and her face even paler than a few minutes before.

'What, Starr? Tell me.'

'Yes, tell all of us,' someone else said.

'It's just...' She looked round at all of them, then turned her focus to Stone. 'While the arguing was going on, I, I saw...' She paused, swallowed. 'I saw a pack of ravening wolves. They were snarling at each other, fighting among themselves. Until one of them got bloodied. And then the others turned on him viciously, biting him, ripping him. And he fought back the same way, biting, tearing. Till he had enough and slunk off by himself to lick his wounds.'

Eyes were dropping all around her, and shame began to color some faces. 'Anything more?' Stone asked quietly.

She nodded. 'In the midst of it all, I heard a sound behind me. So I looked. Over there, across all that ground we crossed today, I could see Jessie standing at the foot of the Mountain of Spices, watching us. And the sound I heard?'

She gave a great sigh. 'It was laughter. She was laughing at us.'

Quietly, Jack looked over at James and muttered, 'Yeah - and we deserve it.'

~~~~~~~

James swallowed hard on the pride stuck in his craw. Stooping, he took up his pack and shouldered it. 'Come on,' he said. And he started up the slight incline that led into the dark valley.

'Come on where?' said Lucy. 'I thought we were camping here.'

'Not till I - we - apologize to Forest first. Come on!'

Slowly, Jack chose to follow him, then the other women trailed along as well. Lucy looked around at the others, then followed James also. The three men waited till Stone and Starr moved out, then brought up the rear.

Starr was leaning heavily on Stone's arm. 'Tired?' he asked.

She nodded. The vision, curiously, had sapped her strength.

'Tell me,' Stone added as they neared the top of the incline into the valley beyond. 'The pack of wolves. Was... Was I... one of the wolves...?'

She looked up into his face, read the uncertainty there. 'Why would you be one of the wolves? You weren't ripping up anyone.'

He sighed, gave a slight smile. 'Thanks. I really wasn't sure. I'm never sure if I should speak up. I'm never sure if I'm being a peace-maker, or making matters worse.'

'You weren't making things worse, dear,' said she.

He smiled deeply then, and chuckled.

'What?' she asked.

'Oh, I just like that. You called me dear.' And his arm around her snugged her just a bit closer.

They topped the incline. The others had stopped here, just over the top, and so they had to stop as well. Malachi and his two companions came up and halted behind them also. And they all stared into the deep valley opening up before them. Such a bleak place it was! Had any of them ever before seen such a place of, of hopelessness?

'This is the way?' said someone. Which was simply voicing what most of them were already thinking.

The path ahead of them ran down the incline, down in to the valley, winding round great dismal grey boulders and stunted, twisted, dead-looking trees. A pall seemed to lie over the whole area between the two mountains; a chill deadened the air. The little company could see only a short distance ahead of them into the valley, for the path soon made a bend to the right and disappeared.

Heads turned as they looked at each other, seeing - most of them - their own dismay mirrored on their neighbors' faces. Only Malachi and his two companions seemed undisturbed by the disheartening look of this valley.

James hitched his pack a bit higher on his shoulders. 'Well,' he said, 'come on. Let's go find Forest.'

He led out and the rest slowly followed, down, down into the valley. They passed by the boulders and reached the corner where the way bent to the right. And then they went on around that corner.

Oh, it was not a pleasant way. There were thorns to tear at their clothing and skin, and rough ground - even holes in the ground - to cause them to trip or stumble. It was exhausting, trying to make any headway that evening.

And then it got worse.

Oh yes, it did. For the sun set. The last rays of its light were abruptly cut off by the high shoulders of the mountain to their right. Sudden dark took hold of the valley, so that when they turned, as they had a few minutes earlier, to look at each other with dismayed faces - they now could no longer see each other in return.

'What do we do now?' said a quavering female voice. That was Linda, both Stone and Starr guessed.

'I think we should go back.'

Was that Jack?

'Back!' cried a voice that must certainly have been James. 'Are you crazy? You want to go back?'

'Well, I don't mean back back - as in all the way back to the Mountain of Spices. I just mean back a little ways, far enough that we don't have to spend the night here in this awful valley.'

'It's not a bit better over there than it is here,' James argued back.

'Not saying it is. It just - feels better back there than here.'

A snort. 'Maybe Forest was right about us.'

'Meaning?' There was a dangerous edge to that word.

'Oh please!' A younger, lighter female voice spoke up now - Joy, likely. 'Are we going to do this again? Is Starr going to be seeing more wolves?'

That brought an immediate silence. And in the silence, Starr began to realize that it wasn't quite as completely dark as she had thought at first. Her eyes were adjusting to the lack of light. And so were everyone else's.

James sighed. 'Look - I'm sorry. Stone is right: there is a way to disagree and not be disagreeable doing it. Jack. I shouldn't have said the word crazy. And I shouldn't have implied that you were being a, well...' Slowly, he brought forth the word, '...coward. What I meant by what I said - what I should have said instead of what I said - is that there's not that much difference in being here from being back there beyond the ridge. Also, that it's a bit dark to go trying to make a move now anyway. Let's just sit down where we are and camp here. If that's agreeable to everyone?'

Jack held out his hand. 'Yeah, I'm sorry too, James. No hard feelings, buddy?'

James reached out his own hand and gripped Jack's. 'None, buddy. None at all.'

'Good,' Jack replied as he dumped off his pack. 'Not like we haven't called each other much worse things than that, back when we were kids...'

'Don't remind me,' said James. And then, as they all began to lay down their packs, James added, 'Besides, we came into the valley to find Forest and apologize to him. We haven't done that yet.'

'Yes,' Joy put in. 'Where is Forest, anyway?'

It was a very good question, and one that none of them seemed to have the answer for. Peering about in the dark for him would do no good. They were just going to have to wait for morning light to look for him now.

'I sure hope he's safe,' Stone whispered to Starr as they laid down their packs.

'Me too,' she agreed. And wondered - without saying anything aloud to anyone, not even to Stone - if it was possible...

...that Forest perhaps did not want to be found.

~~~~~~~

They made camp quickly. It was too dark to gather firewood, so they made a short cold supper of some of the rations from their packs. Then, after a brief discussion (and a cordial one), they decided not to try to set up their tents in the dark, but to simply have the four women sleep in a group together, with the six remaining men making a circle around them for safety's sake.

And soon they were all asleep.

All? Or not? For as Starr drifted off, she opened her eyes more than once to see if in fact Malachi and his companions would sleep. They did lie down like the rest. But if they slept, she did not discover. For she fell asleep herself first before she could find out.

Dreams she had none. Morning light awakened her. As did a sound.

She stirred, sat up. Rubbed at her eyes. And heard the sound again. A rattling sound, like... pebbles? One pebble, falling among others?

She looked. Yes, there! Even now, a little rock came bouncing into the camp, making that slight sound once again. And then a handful of pebbles, making a bigger sound.

And then, a voice.

'Man! It's a good thing no one wanted to attack you lot in the dark! Didn't you even think to set a guard?'

Starr gasped and turned towards the voice. The rest of the company awoke as well. It was Joy who said it first.

'Forest!'

A clamor then, as they all hopped up and mobbed the boy. Questions, so many questions! Where he had been, how he had fared during the night, how he had found them. And whether he would, uh, forgive them...

He scowled. 'Forgive, huh? Those were some pretty nasty things you said. But,' and he grimaced, 'I guess I'd be a skunk, wouldn't I, if I didn't forgive. So, yeah - I forgive you all. James, Jack, Lucy.' And he shook their hands, each of them. 'Stone...'

'Yes?'

'You were, uh, right. And I was wrong. I'm sorry. I'm sorry to you all.'

And solemnly, they forgave him as well.

'How I fared last night... I climbed a tree and slept like a squirrel. No problems.'

'Really?' said Joy. 'Weren't you afraid you'd fall out?'

Forest gave a lopsided grin. 'I'm never afraid,' he said. Then, glancing at Starr, who had seen him the day before when he had been hard-pressed by that demon, he amended it to, 'Well. Hardly ever. Now. That other question, about how I found you.' He shook his head. 'A five-year-old child could have found you lot in the dark. You snored like a herd of elephants!' That brought a round of denials, before the boy added, 'Besides - there was a full moon. No one noticed that? It got so bright about midnight once the moon came up over the mountain, that it woke me right up. So I used the light of it to backtrack up the valley. And here you were, right in the middle of the road. Who wouldn't have been able to find you, eh?'

Sheepish glances back and forth.

'But I say it again: didn't any of you think to set a guard during the night? Two-hour shifts, one awake watching while the others sleep, then get the next one up? No one thought of that?'

'Um - no...' said Jack slowly.

Forest shook his head. 'Pitiful,' he said. 'Josh warned us the enemy knows we're coming. Don't you suppose he might try an attack in the dark of night?'

Lucy started to object to the word pitiful, then thought better of it. Really, the boy was right. Their actions the night before had been pitiful, and in more ways than one.

'Well,' said James, 'daylight is wasting. We should go.'

'Yes, you're right there,' said Forest. And James resisted mightily the urge to ask the lad sharply if that was meant to imply that James was usually not right. Let it go, the man told himself. Give the boy the benefit of the doubt.

They made a sketchy breakfast, then started out. After about an hour's walk, Forest pointed to a tree partway up the leftward slope. 'There,' he said. 'That's where I spent the night. And just a bit farther up here...' he added, leading the way off the path.

He led them to a spring of fresh water, where they were all glad to drink and wash up a bit. Then they refilled their water bottles and so were soon on their way again.

The terrain this morning was no better than it had been the night before, the only improvement being that they could see it better in the daylight. And even that was not a great improvement, for the high mountains to either side blocked direct sunlight for most of the day, keeping the valley for the most part in a state of perpetual gloom.

Gloom. It was like a living beast, stalking them. Like a poison, trying to seep into their bones. It tried continually to worm its way into their hearts, from whence to spring forth out of their mouths, and so infect the next person.

The Master had warned them not to let melancholy attach to them. It was a subtle and constant danger, here in this valley. And one they often forgot to be on their guard against.

Only Malachi and his companions seemed unaffected by the gloom. They generally brought up the rear of the little group, their swords loosened in their sheaths, ready to be drawn on an instant at the first whiff of danger. Starr had finally learned that one of the companions, the shortest of the three, was named Maccabees. And the third - she wasn't quite sure, but she thought she heard his name as Morgan.

And while those three regularly brought up the rear of the band, Forest and James generally took the lead. Stone liked to walk behind the rest, just before the three companions, where he could keep an eye on the rest of the group. And Starr was at his side.

She was not yet aware of it, but she was now entering her own personal dark valley. One that would test to the fullest her promise, made so long before in the sunshine on the Mountain of Spices, to ever trust the Master, no matter what.

And it wasn't as if the Master had not warned her of what was coming. For he had warned her, and that with tears. But in the light of Stone's smiles, and in the comfort of his loving arm about her - she had quite forgotten the warnings.

She was about to be painfully reminded.

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 3, chapter 10 - 'talia'

2005-12-23T00:15:00.000-06:00

Joy all but flew back up the stairs to their level, butterflies in her stomach at the prospect of meeting with Talia. 'You know which room?' she asked Malachi - and not for the first time, either.

He smiled and nodded.

Almost time! The butterflies were at least the size of hummingbirds now. 'Oh!' Joy said suddenly as they neared the door to their level, 'did you notice how many of our groups are hiding out in broom closets?'

'Including us, yes. It is the quickest place to hide. Almost every level has one.'

'But not the lowest level, down where Stone and Starr are.'

'True,' said Mal.

'But then,' she added, 'why would they need brooms down there? All that sludge on the floor.'

'True,' Malachi repeated, his hand now on the handle to open the stairway door.

'Maybe a mop closet...' Joy mused.

'Joy,' said Mal suddenly, sternly. 'Is this conversation going somewhere?'

She blushed. 'Umm... no, I guess not.'

'Are you attempting an imitation of Jack?'

Deeper blush. 'No, I... guess I'm just nervous.'

'Understandable. But there's no need to be nervous. You spoke with Talia earlier. She was receptive, and wants to meet with us.'

'True... Unless...'

His hand was still waiting to open the door. 'Unless?'

'Oh, Malachi, you don't suppose this could be a trap, do you?'

'Why should it be?'

'I don't know. I just... The thought just came to me.'

'Well. We shall find out shortly. Won't we?'

Joy gulped and then gave a tiny laugh. 'Yeah, I guess we will! Let's go.'

Mal held up his other hand, listened briefly at the door, then nodded and opened it. The familiar corridors stretched out before them, one leading straight ahead of them, the other leading off to the right.

'This way,' whispered Mal. And he made his way quietly off to the right, pausing at each corner to check for guards. At the fourth corridor, they turned and went swiftly to a door almost to the end, on the left. Stopping, Malachi gestured at the door.

Hmm? Oh! The key! Feeling a bit silly for not having it already in hand, Joy quickly hunted through her knapsack and found it. Licking her lips nervously, she fed the key into the lock and turned it.

The door opened, just like it ought to. The room inside was dark - utterly dark, with only a hint of light spilling in the doorway from the torches out in the corridor.

Dark. And still? Was no one in here?

No. There was breathing; Joy heard it now. She glanced at Malachi, and then they both stepped in and pushed the door shut behind them. If this was a trap, they were about to find out. 'Talia?'

No answer.

'Talia? Are you here? It's me - Joy. You said we should come...?'

'J-joy?' The voice was soft and husky. There was a shifting sound, as of someone sitting up in a bed. And then came the lighting of a candle.

And there she was. Talia was blinking up at the two of them, her eyes red and bleary, and her face all wet and splotchy.

She had been crying.

~~~~~~~

Joy flew across the room. 'Talia! What's wrong? Why were you crying?'

'Oh, you're here! You're here! I thought you weren't coming. I thought you'd forgotten about me. I waited and waited, and, and... well, I guess I finally cried myself to sleep.' She looked so morose, the poor girl - and maybe a bit sheepish as well.

'Oh, I'm so sorry!' cried Joy. 'I'm sorry we're so late.'

'We needed to meet with our companions,' Mal added. 'We did not intend to be this long.'

'Companions? There are more of you?'

'Yes,' said Joy, thinking that if this in fact was a trap, they were about to put more than just their own necks into the noose. 'Walker went all through the dungeons looking for people who wanted out.' An inward cringe, as she realizing that the word 'all' wasn't exactly the truth there.

'I'd never seen anyone without chains till I met Walker,' said Talia. 'And now you as well. No chains, and - those are swords, right?'

Joy's hand fell automatically to her hilt.

'What do you need swords for?' Talia asked.

'To protect you when we lead you out of here,' Mal replied.

'Out sounds good to me,' said Talia. 'I am so...' Fresh tears sprang up in her still-swollen eyes. 'So completely tired of being here! So tired of the guards leering and pawing and all that.' She sighed. 'It's just not fun anymore.'

Joy blinked. Fun anymore? She shot a puzzled glance at Malachi.

'It was fun before, then?' said he.

'Oh, yeah! Used to be - man! They used to fight over me and everything.'

'The guards?' said Joy.

'Well, sure. And then they'd let the guys come and we'd, you know, pair off and party and all.' Talia grinned nostalgically. 'Really cute guys, some of them. Like Jimmie...'

The grin was short-lived. 'You know, it was so exciting at first. All the attention. But then the guys started getting mean. Or bored. Or boring. And it wasn't long before they just didn't much treat me nice.' A snort. 'You know, there were times when I felt like I might as well have just been a thing. Something to show off, something to brag about. Didn't any of them care that I was Talia? Me? A person?' She stared off into the darkness beyond the candlelight. 'What did they care? I could have been Danni or, or Brenda, or anyone. I could have been a body without a face. What did they care, as long as they got what they wanted?'

Her face grew hard then. 'So I started making sure they didn't get what they wanted. And those stinking,' and Joy's eyes popped at the word Talia used then to describe the guys, 'they just got meaner! Especially the guards. And Jimmie...' Her scowl deepened as she paused and fingered the scar across her face. 'Jimmie did this. But he figured it out pretty quick - and so did the rest, most of them - that there wasn't no messing with Talia anymore.' A glitter of satisfaction flashed into her eyes. 'Yeah, especially Jimmie!'

Joy just stood there, stunned, listening to her new friend's story. She'd always thought the part of the dungeons where she'd grown up was nasty...!

'And then Walker showed up,' Talia went on. 'No chains on his arms, that sword at his side. And he treated me like a lady.' A real smile then, showing Talia's real beauty. 'He said if I wanted out, he'd make sure someone came for me.' Even brighter smile. 'And here you are! So,' she drew up her knees under the covers and leaned her chin on them. 'When do we go?'

'As soon as possible,' Joy replied.

While Malachi added, 'First - what do you know about the Master?'

~first~ ~previous~ ~next~

the child, part 1, chapter 10 - 'the choosing'

2005-12-20T15:00:00.000-06:00

***originally chapters 31-36, posted 17 jan - 19 feb 2005***

They all knew, everyone who lived in that house, that they were there for a time and a purpose. And that the time was the same as the purpose: to train and make ready to be sent out to do the work the Master had in mind for them.

So why did it always seem to come as a surprise to be sent out?

They were all in the dining hall, sharing breakfast, when Stone suddenly said, 'What is he doing?'

Starr hastily swallowed the bite of food in her mouth. 'Who?' she said, turning to look.

Stone pointed with a nod of his head. 'Josh. The sword master.'

Oh! Starr swiveled in her chair to see. Yes, there was the Master himself, walking among his people, pausing here and there to say a quiet word to this one or that one. And as he moved on from speaking, each one he had spoken to immediately rose up from table and followed after him.

One of those, Starr saw, was Forest, the young man whose training she had interrupted a few weeks before. And now, as she and Stone watched, they saw the Master stop at the table where Lucy sat with her friends.

Lucy's fingers flew up to cover her mouth. And something that looked to Starr like it might be tears sprang up and glistened in the woman's eyes. She scraped back her chair and stood.

'That's your friend,' Stone commented.

Instead of moving on, the Master turned and spoke again. And now two men stood as well. Starr recognized them; they were the men she had thought might be Michael that evening so long ago.

And now the Master moved on. He was passing by tables, smiling but shaking his head as those he was passing began to realize what was happening, and began to ask the sword master if they too were being chosen out at this time.

No. He shook his head no. Again and again as he dodged among the tables. Coming closer. Closer.

Starr found she was holding her breath, And Stone had gone completely pale.

For here he came, straight to the table the pair of them shared. Stopped. Stood there. Spoke:

'Stone. Rise and follow; the Master has need of you,' said the man he knew only as Josh the sword master. Turning, even as Stone got to his feet, the man she knew as the Master himself, her Beloved, said also to her, 'Starr. Rise and follow; the Master hath need of thee.'

Her hand flew to cover her mouth, and she knew her eyes were glistening with tears even as Lucy's were. She too rose, as Josh turned now and led the little group from the dining hall.

~~~~~~~

He led them out of the house, out into the great wide expanse of lawn, across that lawn to the foot of the Mountain of Spices. And on up the path. The verdance of the trees tossed gently in the fragrant breeze as they followed him. Up, up the path they went in a little line behind him. Wondering. Whispering.

Stone had caught Starr's hand and held it fast. Once he turned and beamed at her as they walked, following. And once he leaned down, put his mouth close to her ear, and breathed into her hearing, 'I'm glad we were chosen together, Starr-girl.'

'I'm glad too,' she whispered back. And her eyes misted over again.

In addition to the four people she had already noticed, there were two more women and three more men. One of the women was very young, about Forest's age, and the other was very pale and shy-looking. And the three men...

One of them turned to glance in Starr's direction. And she caught in an instant a flash of too many eyes, too many faces. And the flicker of a wing.

'Thou preparest a table before me...' the Master was saying now. They had reached the top of the path here and found that, under the nodding branches of a leafy bower, there in fact stood a table. A very ordinary table, long enough to accommodate them all. It was set simply enough: there was only a single pitcher, a single cup, and beside them a platter covered over with a plain white linen cloth.

'...in the presence of mine enemies...' Starr heard someone finish the quote. The word 'enemies' reminded her of who she had twice met here on this mountain. And, yes, there - peeking at them from behind one of the trees - there was Jessie. Her face was suffused with anger, but what could she do? What dared she do, to those led here by the Master himself?

The Master went around the table to stand before the pitcher and platter, spreading his hands left and right to call the others to table with him. They ranged round the table, glancing nervously one at another.

Stone kept Starr right at his side.

'Children of the Master,' said the Master to them all, 'children of his house. You have been chosen now to go forth to the enemy's dungeons, to fetch forth those who are yet imprisoned as you were. Will you go?'

They glanced among themselves, whispering. They were being given the choice if they would go or stay behind? But...

But the honor of being chosen to go! And the shame of choosing instead to stay behind...!

And so not one of them budged from the table. And the Master nodded.

'You will journey forth from here,' he said. 'All you will need, will be provided you. And the way you will know. As you journey, you will discover which among you is best suited to each of you, to work together with, side by side. So that at the end of the journey, when the time comes to enter the dungeons to rescue the captives there, you will do so in pairs, two by two.'

Forest started at that saying and leaned forward, his eyes glowing.

Josh smiled. 'Ask the question,' said he.

'Which one of us gets to be your partner?' said the boy.

'But if the sword master goes with you,' Josh replied quietly, 'who will be training those of this house in the meantime, in the use of the sword?'

'But...' said Forest.

'Yes?' Josh prompted.

'Well, look,' said Forest, pointing round the table. 'There are eleven of us. How can we go two by two, when there's an odd number of us?'

Josh smiled deeply on the boy. 'One of your number has been sent on ahead of you to spy things out. When you arrive, that one will meet with you. And that one will become partner with the one of you who as yet will have no partner.' And then to Forest, Josh added more privately, 'You ask good questions, my son. Never be afraid to ask.'

Forest blushed a bit at the praise, and glanced at the others.

Stone squeezed Starr's hand and whispered into her ear, 'I've already got my partner.' And his eyes twinkled merrily at her as she too blushed.

'Before you go,' Josh said, commanding all their attention now, 'you shall share in something together. A symbol, deep and rich, of unity one with another, as well as with the Master.' And with a sweep of his hand, he caught the white cloth up off the platter.

Under it was bread - very plain bread, very flat. Brown from the fire of baking, and with lines of holes across it so that it was both striped and pierced. Josh - the Master - took up the bread gently in his two hands and spoke a blessing over it. Then to them all he said, 'One loaf, from many grains of wheat brought together. As you are brought together, and made one together in the Master who rescued you. Many grains, crushed together. For until the wheat is crushed, it is too hard to be used for bread. Do you understand this?'

They glanced at each other. Crushing? Was he talking about something other than just the grains of wheat?

'You will understand by and by,' Josh added. 'But see the bread: striped, as the Master was striped with whips. Pierced, as the Master was pierced, hand and foot and side. Baked in the fire, as all who are the Master's pass through the fires of affliction. Broken...' and he suited action to word, breaking the hard flat loaf in two. '...as he who gave his life was broken. As you also have been and will be broken - that wholeness may come. Take. Eat.'

And he passed the bread, one half to the left, the other to the right. Each one of them, as the loaf came to him, to her - broke off a piece and ate.

Or did they? For Starr was watching carefully the three men she had noticed earlier. And while they broke the bread as the rest, she could not really say whether the bread ever reached their mouths.

But now the Master - Josh - was taking up the single cup and the pitcher. He gave thanks for it, then poured forth from the pitcher the deep red richness of the fruit of the vine.

'Grapes too are crushed and mingled to become one,' said he. 'A fitting symbol of the oneness of the children of the Master. His love was such that he poured himself forth - his very lifeblood - for you, whom he loves. You also must love so. Willing to pour forth your own very lives - first for him, and also for each other. Take. Drink.'

He passed the cup to his right, to where Forest was standing. Embarrassed to be the first, the boy's hand shook as he raised the cup to his lips and drank. He passed the cup on to the girl, who also drank.

And so on around. Lucy. The two men her friends. Starr. Stone. The remaining woman. The three...

And again Starr observed them carefully. And could not say if any of the three of them ever truly tasted of the cup.

Who were they - angels? And did angels ever eat and drink?

Josh received back the cup and set it on the table again. And as he did, Starr's eyes caught a glimpse of scars in his hands. Very old scars, piercing right through his wrists. She saw them. But did anyone else?

He looked up into her eyes where she stood right in front of him across the table. And he smiled.

~~~~~~~

And now Josh led them forth from this bower and down the path. But not the same path they had come up. Down they went, past myrrh and cinnamon, past aloe and acacia. Down to the very foot of the mountain.

The other side of the mountain.

The Master's house where they had all been living for so long was nowhere in sight from here. Starr looked about eagerly, for she could not remember ever having seen this side of the Mountain of Spices before. Rich greenery, of course, surrounded them. And there, alongside the path, sat a little house...

Starr gasped. The house! The little house where Jessie lived. Was this it?

And... hmm... Where was Jessie now? Starr glanced about. She had seen the woman earlier as they were entering the bower, but she hadn't given a single thought to her since. Was Jessie here now, lurking about, waiting to rip someone again with her vicious words...?

'Starr.'

It was the Master. 'Yes, sir?' she replied.

'Tell the others what you are thinking.'

Oh! Startled, stumbling over her words, she began to explain to the rest about Jessie. She felt deeply embarrassed, afraid she wasn't saying it quite right.

There was a movement to her left, and the singing sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath. Forest. Scowling heavily, the boy said, 'Just let her try some of her nonsense while I'm around...!'

'My son,' the Master replied. 'Always remember, and never forget, that we wrestle not against flesh and blood. That sword is not given thee to slash others with - that is Jessie's way, the enemy's way. Yes, she is sold to the enemy - but she is yet a human being - someone for whom the Master gave his life and rose again from death. There is yet hope for her.'

And to them all, he added, 'People are never the enemy; the enemy is the enemy. The enemy uses people - and sometimes they are willingly used by him, and sometimes not. For the enemy will also take innocent actions by people who have no ill-will against any, and twist their actions to make them look evil and hate-filled.'

He looked around at them all - their eyes were riveted on him. 'The enemy will seek to use you - your own innocent actions - one against the other. He knows you are being sent out against him. Do not let him divide you. It is your unity - united together as one body, with the Master as your head - that gives you strength. That unity the enemy will strike against. Do not believe everything you hear, nor everything you see.'

They stared back, eyes wide, like so many owls. He smiled. 'And be at peace, children. And filled with joy.' There was a small commotion then, as the young girl, the one who was Forest's age, gave a start and threw a hand over her mouth. Josh's eyes crinkled merrily at her, as he went on: 'The Master's joy is strength to you, dear children, to battle against the enemy's melancholy and discouragement. Do not let melancholy attach to you, but meet it always with the Master's joy. When you deliberately live in the Master's joy, even in the midst of many adversities - then will you confound the enemy's plans against you. Do you understand?'

So many owls they looked still. And not one admitted to understanding what he was getting at.

Josh smiled. 'Though you understand not, remember. And one day you will understand. For now, remember: unity and joy. Unity, because each of you is gifted by the Master himself in different areas, in different ways, that together you may accomplish the Master's will for you all. As you shall see.' And turning to Forest, who was still standing there with his sword drawn in his hand, Josh said, 'You are valiant, my son. And in your valiance shall you enter this house and deal with what you shall find within. But! Not all that you shall see there, shall be in truth as it seems. And so Starr,' and she started at the calling of her name, 'shall go with you. She shall describe to you what she sees. You shall trust her words, and act accordingly. Go forth, my children.' And again he said to them, 'Go,' - for they hesitated.

And even then they hesitated more. Starr glanced at Stone, stunned that she was being sent to aid the boy Forest - not Stone instead? The man Stone squeezed her fingers gently, released her hand reluctantly.

As for Forest, he shifted his grip on his sword, cleared his throat, tightened his face, and then strode purposefully up to the door. Starr hurried to crowd in after him, peering over the boy's shoulder into the dark interior of this little house, straining to make out what there was to be seen within.

And then Starr could see what was inside. And she gasped in amazement.

~~~~~~~

Starr's mouth opened to report to Forest what she was seeing inside the house. But it was already too late.

In a flash, in a twinkling, she had seen Jessie. The woman was crouched in the middle of the room, her glaring eyes somehow at the same time both red with fury, and coldly dead. Her mouth was twisted into a vicious snarl, looking more feral than human. A low hiss escaped her throat.

And Starr's mouth opened, her lips forming the start of the words she had in mind to give to Forest. But she was nowhere near fast enough.

For Jessie sprang.

Her leap was phenomenal. In that single jump, she closed the distance between herself and the boy Forest, who was still framed in the doorway. On reflex, the boy brought his sword up to defend himself, his other arm also rising to ward off that blow. And from the corner of her eye, Starr saw on the boy's other arm, like a shadow of light, a shining shield - one that was not physically there.

Forest's sword came up on reflex. And that was good for his sake, for in Jessie's hands, Starr now saw, there was a sword coming down against the boy. An evil sword, curved, with a row of glittering barbs all along its leading edge, like the teeth on a saw. A sword to rip with. A destroying weapon.

And now there was a loud clash as sword met sword. Forest moved instinctively to his right, partly to deflect the power of the blow, partly to turn the sudden battle away from the door - away from where Starr was still standing.

She half-turned for a moment, glancing back at the small group outside. Her eyes took them in in a flash - most of them huddled together, watching the house with puzzled faces - Stone looking ready to explode, ready to charge over and get her out of here.

And the Master. Standing calmly, he nodded towards her, the gesture plainly saying to her to get back to the task he had set for her.

She turned back. Forest was being pressed backwards, straining to hold his ground against the ferocity of Jessie's attack. Her words were spitting at him, at them: 'How dare you? Invading my house. Mine! My husband... I have a right... How dare you...!'

Strange. Starr frowned. The voice, the words, didn't match with what she was seeing. The battle was here... but the voice was coming from...

She turned. Looked. Stared.

Jessie? But how?

For Jessie was huddled over there, in the far corner of the room, her arms thrown over her head, screaming and spluttering out her protests. Even as Jessie was fully engaged in raging battle against the boy Forest over here...

Starr looked again at the fighting Jessie. Blinked. Stared hard. Saw...

Forest was being driven backwards, step by grudging step. The cruel evil blade was pressing him hard, even as the boy whispered, 'I don't... want... to hurt you...'

Bless his heart! The boy had taken the Master's instructions deeply to heart, doing his best to avoid harm to a fellow human.

But that was not what he was fighting now.

'Forest!' Starr called out. 'Don't be afraid; that's not Jessie. You can fight it with all your might. See Jessie there in the corner?'

The lad spared a glance in the direction Starr was pointing. His eyes went wide, and he nodded.

'Fight for all you're worth, Forest!' Starr called, encouraging him. 'That thing...' Ugh! What other word was there for it?

'Forest, that thing's a demon!'

~~~~~~~

Twisted. That was the word that came to Starr's mind. Everything about the demon seemed twisted - distorted - like a foul mockery of a human being.

Except that, really - it was a foul mockery of an angel.

The wings - the eyes - the faces. It reminded her so much of Mathilda, of Michael. But the wings were dark and leathery, the eyes hard and bitter, the faces sneering and hateful. Twisted. Nasty. Sickening.

'Don't listen to her.'

The words caught Starr by surprise. For now Jessie's voice was coming out of the demon's mouth, perfectly reproduced. Jessie in the corner had fallen silent - yes, and fallen to the floor as well, hiding behind her own arms, whimpering.

'Don't listen to her,' the demon said again, cutting its many eyes in Starr's direction. 'She hates me. She's egging you on to kill me, you know. She's evil.'

It took both Starr and Forest a second to realize who the demon was talking about. 'You mean Starr?' the boy gasped, still sorely pressed by the demonic blade.

'She's jealous,' the fake voice of Jessie went on. 'Because the Master made me his bride, and not her. So she lies about me. She hates me! She would love to have you kill me. Then she thinks she would have a chance to snare my husband for herself - as if he would have her!'

Oh! The demon may have been fighting against the boy Forest, but its words struck deeply into Starr's heart. Twisted! It had somehow twisted Starr's motives and replaced them with Jessie's, and Jessie's with hers.

Starr dropped back a step, her mouth fallen open, hurting, bleeding within where it could not be seen. Surely, surely Forest wouldn't believe such lies!

And she started to speak up, to denounce the lies for what they were. When she looked down.

Her sword was in her hand. She didn't remember having drawn it. She looked up again, found that the demon was grinning at her, even as it continued to press its attack against Forest. It leaned nearer to the boy, its lips moving, whispering words she could not hear into the lad's hearing.

Forest glanced back at her, his eyes wide in shock. He dropped back another step, and then another.

His resolve was flagging, Starr realized. Whatever lies the demon was pouring into Forest's ears, they were sapping his confidence, sowing doubt.

Lying devil! she thought. Her fist tightened on the hilt of her sword. How she longed to wade into that demon, to make it eat those lies - yes, and choke on them!

She took a step forward...

Wait... Was she coming to Forest's defense? or to her own? The Master's words flooded back into her: '...you are not to defend yourself, for I shall do that, and you shall rest in my defense of you - the use of the sword is not to defend yourself, not to promote your own ways - but it is to defend others, to protect them from the wiles of the enemy...'

Again she looked at the sword in her hand. Which was she about to do - protect Forest from the enemy's wiles? or defend her own self - her own good name - from the enemy's lies about her?

Again she glanced back at the little group outside the house. There was Stone, his own sword in hand...

But her eyes were seeking the Master. He was standing there, so calm, so serene. Smiling, he lifted his hand.

And she felt his touch, there on her cheek, across the intervening space.

Sureness flooded into her. She need not defend. Smiling back, she decisively sheathed her sword.

And turned back to the scene inside the house, her hands now empty. Forest was pressed back against the wall now, his eyes near to panic. The demon was right up in the boy's face, its scaly free hand reaching to grasp Forest's throat.

'Oh, Master! For Forest!' Starr breathed.

She barely spoke the words aloud. And her hands were yet empty. But suddenly the demonic body jerked and shuddered, as if it had taken a great blow. Snarling, it turned on her, glaring, hissing. 'You see!' it growled. 'She strikes me in the back - like the coward she is!'

Starr raised her hands, showing them to be empty. And then dropped them, palms outward, completely and utterly vulnerable.

The demon's eyes glowed with glee to see Starr leave herself so wide open to attack like that. Forgetting the boy, it turned, regripped its cruel evil sword - and charged, hurtling itself full force towards the unprotected Child.

~~~~~~~

Tzhing!

Starr had closed her eyes when the demon began its charge, not really wanting to see her own death bearing down on her. But the skewering she expecting never came - and the sound of swords clashing did...

She opened her eyes. Blinked. Gaped.

Somehow, Forest had rallied to her and was now between her and the demon. No longer merely holding the demon off, no longer giving ground before it step by trembling step. Oh no. Now...

It was amazing. Now, the lad was raining blows upon the foe before him, lunging, feinting, thrusting.

And now it was the demon giving way before the young man's sword. 'No!' cried Jessie's voice from its lips. 'No, don't hurt me! How cruel you are, to hurt a woman...!'

'You were hurting a woman,' Forest replied grimly. 'And it didn't seem to bother you a bit, to rip Starr with your words. And you would have killed her happily if you could just now - wouldn't you? As for me hurting a woman... ' And he pressed on against this enemy, giving the demon neither room nor time to recover or rally itself. '...if you really were Jessie, then you might have a point. But you're not Jessie. She's over there in the corner. You are exactly what Starr told me you are. You are a demon, and in the name of the Master, you... are... defeated!'

The boy thrust home on that last word. There was a shriek like cloth tearing, and a blinding flash of not light but dark. A foul stench filled the air, gagging them...

And the demon was gone. There was only Forest now, and Starr.

And Jessie.

Starr went to her, holding out a hand to lift her up, while Forest quickly cleaned and sheathed his weapon. 'Jessie?' the Child called gently to the still-cringing woman.

Jessie shook herself, shrinking away from Starr, keeping her arms still locked protectively over her head. 'Stay away from me!' the woman cried piteously.

'You're all right now,' Forest said, coming alongside. 'The demon is gone. It's safe now.'

'Safe?' Jessie hissed at them. 'Safe? When the two of you barge into my home, with weapons in your hands? Safe?'

'Jessie...'

A new voice, soft, patient. All three looked over at the door, were now the Master stood.

With a sob, Jessie leapt up and pelted for the doorway, flinging herself into the Master's arms, pouring forth her tale of woe, pointing again and again back at Starr and Forest - her hand stabbed especially viciously in Starr's direction. Shaking his head, the Master said to her, 'Jezebel. Do you think I do not know the Truth?'

She stopped talking suddenly, glared up into that stern and gentle face. And then, like the striking of a snake, she slapped him. Slapped him!

Forest's face darkened, and his hand flew to his sword. How dare that woman slap Josh!

Starr's face reddened, and her hand flew to her own cheek as if the slap had hit her instead. How could Jessie slap the Master?

But the Master only looked down on the enemy's daughter, his eyes full of compassion meeting hers full of venom. Softly he said to her, 'When you come to love the Truth more than you love your own self, then will you begin to know me at last.' And when her eyes only darkened more and flashed with anger, he added, 'What you do, do quickly.'

She drew back, looked for a moment as if she might slap him once more - then swept pass him, regal as any queen. And left.

And now came the rest of the little group crowding into the house. 'What happened here?' Lucy asked as she passed in through the door. The others followed, Stone last of all, only now sheathing his sword. His arms found Starr and drew her close. He was trembling a bit.

But then, so was she.

'My children,' said the Master, said Josh. 'So long as Jessie held this house, she held against you an inheritance the Master would have you possess. Now she is gone, and the inheritance is yours. See...' He gestured toward a cabinet set against the wall opposite the door. One of Lucy's friends was standing closest to it, so he reached and opened the doors.

And there within - there were several packs, walking sticks, traveling coats. In fact, everything they would need for this journey they were setting forth on.

Quietly - indeed, rather subdued, for Jessie's outburst was still fresh in their memories - the eleven gathered to take up the packs and make ready to go. Starr, waiting till the others were done, felt a light touch on her arm.

She turned. The Master. Drawing her apart from the others, he said to her, 'Ask.'

She dropped her eyes, and a bit of a blush touched her cheeks. 'You always know...' said she.

'Always,' he replied. 'Ask me, Starr. Ask the question that is in your heart.'

'It's just... Why Forest? Why not Stone?'

'Why did I send you in here to support Forest, instead of choosing Stone to send you at the side of?'

'Well, yes. I mean, if I am to be Stone's...' She hesitated, glancing to see if any of the others would hear her speak the word 'wife.'

'My Child. Stone already knows you, and has already begun to trust your sight. Forest needed to learn to trust as well. And through him, the others. Remember? This was an exercise in unity?'

'Oh.' And she nodded.

'Go now and get your things, Starr. Fear nothing; trust my leading. Yes?'

Feeling a bit embarrassed, she nodded.

He gave her a cherished kiss on the forehead and sent her off to the cabinet. Soon she had collected her share of the supplies for the journey as well, and returned to stand with the others.

Stone took her protectively to his side.

'Now,' said Josh, leading them back outside. 'Now you are ready. Now you will set forth. Look there.' He pointed, and their eyes followed.

Here they stood at the foot of the Mountain of Spices. Leading away from them ran the last traces of the path, curving away into a deep valley. A great mountain, higher than this one, rose on the other side of that valley. And there, further off, they saw that there was still another high mountain, where the valley ran in between the two mountains, leading into deep shadow.

'That is your way,' said Josh. 'Fear no darkness. Trust, and be trustworthy. Grow in grace. Know that the Master's Presence goes with you, though you see him not. And be in Peace.' He smiled on them all, gently sighed - how Starr breathed in the dearness of that sigh! - and then he turned and climbed again the path up the Mountain of Spices.

At the top, he lifted his arm and waved. Then came a curious brightness of sunlight, so that they all flinched and hid their eyes.

When they could look again, he was gone. A bit of cloud came up then, obscuring the sun, causing a great shiver to pass through the company.

They stood yet a moment longer. And then, making his sword sing once more as he drew it forth from its sheath, Forest said, 'Well, let's get moving then.' And he started out, leading the way towards the dark valley.

Slowly, the rest followed.

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