Pathspace
Page 79
Chapter 79
Ludlow: “The burnt-out ends of smoky days.”
It had not been easy to make the lamp. They allowed him no candles here, no oil, But the food they served was often greasy stuff, and he had saved the grease, in a clay bowl.
Stealing that bowl had cost him dearly. Oh how angry they'd been, ransacking his little cell the next day! He had to smile at the thought that they'd worried he was going to break it and use the shards as weapons. While one guard was stripping the bed and shining his lantern in the dim, the other had been busy kicking him until he vomited.
How he'd wanted to laugh through his split lips. The entire time they were searching for it, the bowl lay in plain sight on the top of the wooden crate that served him as a table. Well, not in plain sight. The invisibility he'd woven around it had kept it safe from prying eyes, even his own.
The wick had been tricky too. They'd left him no string, not even bootlaces. He considered tearing thin strips from his bed sheet, but they would have spotted that. Inspiration came one day when he cut his hand on a rusty edge of the cot. In short order, he had used the roughness of the flaking corroded iron to saw off several locks of his hair. These he did his best to braid together, making a wick for the grease bowl. And so his lamp was born.
Of course he had no reading materials. But that didn't matter, because the lamp wasn't for reading. Its main purpose was to keep the rats off him while he was sleeping. It had a second function, too. Keeping the guards from seeing its light gave him a reason to keep practicing his weaving of pathspace. To keep sharpening his skill, as he waited for the opportunity to vanish one day when they got too careless.
One thing they hadn't been careless about was the door. It was metal, and the thick bolt on the outside was secured with three padlocks.
One nice thing about his cell was the quiet. It was dark, it was dank, and there were rats, but at least it was quiet. Until now.
He was nearly asleep when the clock of the first padlock being opened awakened him. It would have been awkward if he'd been fast asleep, but by the time he heard the second click he had extinguished the lamp and shoved it away from the rat hole and behind a quick shield of invisibility. By the time he heard the third click he was back on his cot, his eyes closed.
He stirred when the bolt was thrown back because they expected him too. Someone entered carrying something far brighter than his pitiful little lamp. The light of the torch dazzled him. Struggling to a sitting posture, he shielded his eyes with one hand while he let his eyes adjust. “Who's there?”
“I think it's time we had a little chat, Ludlow.”
“Now?” He let himself fall back on the cot. “I thought you said it all when you locked me in here.” He coughed. “Has something changed your mind?”
“I could have just let them kill you, you know. But I don't expect you to thank me.”
“Thank you?” He laughed so hard that it kicked off another spate of coughing. “You should be thanking me. I got your men out of Denver. And for that, you throw me in a cell?”
“You should have stayed in Denver. You know what the Church thinks of wizards.”
“I couldn't stay. I was compromised. They know I helped your men escape.”
“But why come here? You could've gone anywhere. Why Texas?”
Ludlow rubbed his eyes. “I didn't know your fear of the TCC would override your gratitude for liberating your son and your best commander.”
The Honcho's hand went to the pommel of his sword. “I'm not afraid of anyone!”
“Then why am I in here, eh? But more importantly, what do you want?”
“Who says I want anything?”
Ludlow laughed until he coughed again. “Oh come now, your Excellency. You come to my cell, in the middle of the night, without any guards? That tell me two things. First, that you want something from me, and second...that you don't want anyone else to know you came.”
The torchlight made the Honcho's frown look even worse than it was. “I have some powerful weapons to bring to Rado. That should be enough to give me confidence. But they have a wizard.”
“Ah, now I see it. You want me to help protect your great weapons from Xander. To balance out their wizard with one on your side...leaving you with the advantage of superior firepower.”
“Can you do it? Or would you rather stay here?”
“He's very good,” Ludlow granted. “But the element of surprise can work wonders.”