TheLise looked surprised. “Why can’t we teleport?”
“We are a powerful group. I don’t want to alert any Mocendi who may be close. I will tell you more about our plans when we get to the border. The less you know now, the safer you will be if you are captured.”
The ride to the border was uneventful. Shrouded in an illusion of invisibility, the four travelers made good time. By dusk, they had crossed into Trinuge and their horses ambled single file down a narrow canyon trail. Wolloh headed the procession, followed by TheLise and Davin. Stebben brought up the rear. No one spoke.
Davin’s eyes skimmed over the rocky terrain. His ears strained to hear even the slightest sound. Sun cycles of living as a fugitive had honed his senses beyond the norm. He sat up straighter in the saddle and rubbed his low back. His thighs ached. The last time he had ridden was in Myrrh. A spark of anger ignited. He forced his focus to shift to the hunger gnawing at his innards. We need a break.
Ahead of him, TheLise rode as though she had been born to it. Her calf-length divided skirt allowed her to straddle her mount. He had to admit that he was impressed by the future Dreelas of Trinuge.
An alarming sound grabbed his attention. He twisted in the saddle. Something paced them in the tumbled piles of rock along the trail. Stebben caught his eye and mouthed, “Tell Wolloh.”
Davin masked his mind. He’d learned the trick from Velar—Relevart—and formed a thought. “Wolloh, left.”
The High DiMensioner slowed and peered into the gloom. TheLise pushed booted feet down in the stirrups and pressed almost to standing. Stebben’s horse pranced nervously at the rear of the line. The image of a boar-like creature formed in Davin’s mind.
TheLise relaxed back onto her saddle. “It’s a gothraw,” she said softly. “Vicious looking, but it’s an herbivore. We’re lucky ludoc cats don’t prowl this far west. They are carnivores.”
Wolloh nodded and guided his horse back onto the pebble-strewn trail. “Just a bit further. Stay vigilant. Good work, Davin and TheLise.”
Their line reformed. A misty rain began to fall. Davin raised his face to the sky and inhaled. The damp air felt good after the dryness of the desert.
Wolloh skirted a massive red-rock formation and vanished from sight with TheLise in his wake. When Davin rounded the bend, he was surprised to find the trail empty. A soft laugh gave him a clue what direction to look. Within a few feet, he discovered a track which led to an enclosed area surrounded by tall rock formations.
TheLise and Wolloh had already dismounted when he and Stebben reached them. They gathered in a tight group.
The High DiMensioner looked from one to the other of his charges. “Thus far we have stayed clear of the Mocendi, but I doubt we can do so for much longer. I will teleport you, Davin and TheLise, to Icottray, the asylum on the coast near the Isle of Temecrya. Stebben will take the horses and continue on toward Carttat as a diversion and to warn Dreela Reckirty.”
Fear lit TheLise’s eyes. Her cheeks paled. “Why Icottray?” she whispered.
Wolloh took her hand. “The insanity of the inmates will block your presence.” He touched Davin’s arm. The canyon disappeared, and a granite, fortress-like building flashed into view. “Here we are. Stay close. Don’t show your fear. Death shadows often dwell within asylum walls.” He looked at Davin. “A death shadow’s favored diet is the fear of death and dying. If they are in need of fuel, they will feed on fear of any kind.” He dragged his crippled leg along the stone pathway at a surprisingly quick pace.
TheLise clasped Davin’s hand and followed. “I visited my old nurse here when I was seven sun cycles.” She shuddered. “I hated it.”
At the tall iron gate, Wolloh rang the bell. A guard peered at him between thick round bars, nodded, and disappeared. Within minutes, he returned. The gate swung wide. They entered. A resounding clang made TheLise press closer. A stocky man in a long, black robe awaited them beside arched double doors. His shaved head gleamed in the pale light of the moon. At his waist hung a ring of keys.
As they approached, he unlocked the doors and pushed them open. Wolloh limped into a long, dimly lit corridor. Davin ushered TheLise in ahead of him. The doors closed. The key clicked in the lock. TheLise reached for his hand. At the thready sound of a woman’s crying, she let out a small gasp. Her gaze darted to the doors and back to Wolloh, where he spoke with the robed man.
He beckoned them forward. “This is the LaHeer Limtayca. I am placing you in his care. You will be transported to the island in a coffin. Tarsolie, the caretaker, will smuggle you into a mausoleum. You will remain there until I come for you. Remember, the energy of fear can be felt for long distances. Keep yours under control. Do not call more trouble to yourselves than you already have.” He turned to the LaHeer. “Keep them safe, and you will be well rewarded.” Soft light flared, leaving the spot where he had been standing empty.
Davin kept his thoughts masked as he studied the man across from him. He saw no kindness in the swarthy face—no warmth—only a stern, thin-lipped frown and eyes obscured beneath heavy lids. His nose had taken a beating. An old break raised a lump that torqued the tip off center. The man’s mind was as cold as his appearance, his thoughts well hidden. When he finally spoke, his voice lacked any semblance of emotion.
“It is good to see you, Manow TheLise. It has been a long time. You were but a child.” He met her gaze. The bland expression held no real interest. “I am remiss. Let’s get you out of the corridor.” He led them deeper into the gloom and pushed open a door. “Please make yourselves at home. I have some arrangements to make. Food will be served in half a chron circle.” The swish of long robes and the soft clink of keys accompanied him from the room.
TheLise perched on the edge of an elaborate carved chair. “Imagine meeting him at seven sun cycles.” She suppressed a shiver. “I know Wolloh has the best of intentions, but…” She shrugged and surveyed her surroundings.
Davin wandered the room, a study of some kind. An ornate desk and chair held court at one end of the rectangular space. An immaculate blotter, an inkwell, and a quill sat perfectly aligned at its center. Opposite, where TheLise perched ready for flight, a couch, two end tables, and two high-back chairs clustered around a low round table. A fire in the fireplace on the main wall across from the door failed to chase away the dampness or the cold. Nothing about the unwelcoming room would soothe the concerns of a patron.
Davin plopped down on the couch and grimaced. “Not where I’d choose to come. Does your father’s government control it?”
Gray eyes flitted to the door and back to his face. “It is privately funded. Not even Father knows the owner. Rumors suggest it is used for more than housing the insane. No one really knows for sure what. I remember we removed my nurse and placed her where my parents felt she would receive better care.”
The door creaked. An older woman struggled with it and a food-laden tray. TheLise hurried forward and held the door open, while Davin took the tray from shaking hands. The woman curtsied and scampered away.
Setting the food on the round table, Davin peeked beneath heavy silver lids. “Do you suppose we eat or wait?”
“There are only two place settings.” TheLise put the lids aside and handed him a plate. “I think we can eat.”
Davin loaded it with a thick slice of meat, boiled seattopo roots, and Trinugian long pods in a velvety, ranira sauce. He looked up to find TheLise smiling, the first one he had seen since their arrival. “What? I’m starving.” He noted her still-empty plate. “I’d eat if I were you. Meals could be few and far between. Don’t know when we’ll see the next one.” The meat tasted of unknown herbs and spice. He licked his lips. “Besides, it’s delicious.”
She spooned a little of each item onto her plate and took a tentative nibble. “It is good.”
Davin returned to the couch and balanced his plate on his knees. “I’m not too keen on spending time in a coffin.” He stuffed another bite in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “Guess it�
��s the best way to hide us during the crossing, though. Will they take us by hand ferry or boat?”
“Boat.” She set her unfinished meal on the tray.
The door creaked open and the LaHeer entered with two dark cloaks over his arm. “I do hope you enjoyed your meal. My personal chef prepared it.” He noted TheLise’s plate. “You won’t be getting meals of this ilk on the island, Manow. Only what is easily transportable.”
Focusing her gaze on the hands in her lap, she said, “When do we leave?”
“Now.” He handed each a cloak. “Please put these on, and stay close to me. We will be going through the asylum to the morgue, where your coffin awaits. Look no one in the eye. Say nothing to anyone. Understood?”
They nodded and donned the heavy cloaks. Long, navy wool brushed the floor as they followed him down the corridor. TheLise slipped her hand into Davin’s. He squeezed it, hoping to reassure her.
As they passed from one hall to the next, strange sounds filtered through doors. An occasional moan made TheLise’s grip tighten. A door flew open. A woman stumbled out, saw them, backed into the wall, and started to sob. She held out a shaking hand. “Take me home. I want to go home.”
A nurse hurried from the room and guided her back inside. Her sobs beat against the closed door.
They turned down another corridor. On one side, a bank of windows showed a long, narrow room. Men and woman sat on long benches, their backs against the wall. Some of them rocked back and forth. Some stared straight ahead, perhaps immobilized by inner fears. All of them had dirty, expressionless faces.
An attendant entered the room. She stopped by each chair, washed each face, brushed each head of tangled hair. No one appeared to notice. The attendant retraced her steps, relocked the door, and disappeared down the gloomy hall.
Tears streamed down TheLise’s cheeks. Davin put an arm around her and urged her ahead. At the end of the corridor, the LaHeer inserted a key in a plain wooden door. Tumblers smacked noisily into place. TheLise tensed and clutched Davin’s hand. They followed the LaHeer down a long, steep staircase into another hallway that ended in a cold, dim room. A simple wooden casket sized for a large body sat on a long, low table.
“You will both go in one casket. Two would be too obvious. Please climb in and make yourselves as comfortable as possible.” He indicated a horse drawn wagon waiting near the outer door. “The wagon will take you to the boat.”
TheLise looked from the casket to the LaHeer. “How do we breathe?”
“The wood is porous and the lid will be nailed loosely.”
“How long?”
He handed them each a flask of water. “Two chron circles at most.”
Davin took off his cloak and used it to pad the casket’s rough bottom. TheLise handed him hers and climbed in. He wedged in beside her, his chest to her back, and wrapped his arms around her. The LaHeer tucked the second cloak around them. A wooden top blocked the light. The casket vibrated with each strike of the hammer. By the time it ceased, TheLise lay rigid beside him. A muffled voice bid them a good journey. The casket was lifted. The bottom scraped along the wagon bed. TheLise let out a breath and lay stone still.
Davin felt his heart beat a steady, even rhythm and wondered if she could feel it against her back. He could feel the soft rise and fall of her chest and the soft exhale of her breath. She hadn’t said a word since the final nail had been hammered into place. He whispered next to her hair, “Are you alright?”
Shaking hands gripped his wrists—her only reply.
The wagon rattled along, swaying from side to side. Like one, they moved with it. He made himself think of things other than the feel of her buttocks against his thighs or the soft curve of her breasts against his arms. She is beautiful. We’re in a coffin together. The warm scent of her filled his nostrils. He focused on the problem at hand. The Mocendi are after us. She shifted her weight and pressed harder against him. He released a relieved breath as the wagon came to a standstill.
The casket scraped against wood, and then joggled back and forth with each unmatched step. Davin wondered how many men carried them. Do they know we are alive, or do they think they are moving a dead man? A sudden tip— TheLise gave a quiet gasp. He held her tighter. “Shh.” The casket steadied and stopped moving. The murmur of voices drifted around them and then the rhythmic slap of two pair of oars sounded a lullaby. Dip, swish, splash… Dip, swish, splash…dip…
Davin fought to stay awake, but finally gave up. The turning had been long. The thump of the boat against the dock woke him. Once again the casket was lifted. The bump of wheels over boards, then gravel, then quiet.
TheLise turned her head and whispered, “Are we here?”
“Think so.”
The sound of a crowbar wedged between lid and box and the tear of wood resisting the release of one nail after the other told them their stay was almost over. Davin could feel TheLise. Her breathing quickened. Her heartbeat seemed louder. The beginnings of light leaked in the crack, and then they were sitting up, blinking. Muscular arms lifted TheLise from the casket like a baby, set her on her feet, and steadied her until she could stand on her own. Davin felt the loss of her like a splash of cold water. He scrambled out and gave the man an owlish, blinking stare. First impression—almost everything about him was narrow: narrow face, narrow nose, narrow shoulders, narrow hips. The only things that weren’t—a wide, full-lipped mouth and dirty, gray hair that formed a wild nest on his head.
He grinned a wide toothless grin. “Name’s Tarsolie. Friends call me Tarso.” His gums smacked together, and the ‘o’ was drawn out and sloppy. “Never had the pleasure of live ones ’fore now.” He jerked a thumb at TheLise. “You one pretty lady, Manow.” He nodded at Davin and jerked it again at a pile of rocks. “Gotta keep up the game. Let’s get them rocks in the box and get the lid nailed down.”
Davin draped a cloak round TheLise’s shoulder to ward of the cold night air and guided her to a stone bench nearby. She tugged the heavy folds tighter and sank into a pool of navy wool. He rolled up his sleeves and helped Tarsolie add weight to the emptied box. When they had enough, the caretaker tossed a humorous look at Davin, turned to TheLise, and winked. “Need a piece o’ your pretty hair, since he ain’t got none to speak o’.”
A question lit her eyes, then cleared. “So if someone does a telepathic probe, they will think a body is there.” She pulled several strands.
Davin laid them on top of the rocks and helped Tarso nail the lid in place. Together they lowered the casket into a dark hole. Tarso tossed him a shovel. The muffled rhythm of falling dirt filled the night, growing softer and softer until the job was done.
Tarsolie brushed his hand on his pants and held it out. “Thanks. Don’t often have help ’round here.” Davin shook it with a nod of understanding.
After the cart was stowed in a dilapidated shed, Tarso guided them down a moonlit path to his cabin. Unlike its owner, it was tidy as a pin. They used the PN facilities and ate a snack. TheLise’s natural curiosity finally overrode her apprehension. She thanked him for his help, asked questions, and even laughed at a joke he shared.
Davin found himself liking the caretaker. He admired the man’s patience as he drew her out one sentence at a time. When her fear had dissolved and she began to relax, Tarso lit a lantern and led them to a large structure made of white marbled stone. He unlocked the door, held the lantern high, and stepped inside.
“Won’t be lockin’ ya in unless there be trouble. Brought ya some blankets and a basket o’ food. You’ll find a bucket out back if you need it. I’ll check ya in the mornin’. This be the soldier side o’ the cemetery, so it be pretty safe. Wouldn’t wander, though.”
He hung the lantern on a hook, backed out the door, and was gone.
Davin watched the play of light and shadow on TheLise’s face. “I’m sorry I brought trouble to your door.”
She shrugged. “It would have arrived sooner or later. The Mocendi have been looking for Wolloh for sun cycl
es…since he was a young man on Roahymn, his native planet. They send their representatives to Inner Universe in search of potential DiMensioners. I have gotten much stronger. We knew they would find me eventually.” She paced the circumference of the space, squinting at the brass plates placed equal distance around it. At the center, was a hip-high dais upon which two marble caskets rested side-by-side, a carved figure of a man on one and a woman on the other. She ran a hand over the smooth stone. “A family crypt—rare on this island. We have one on our property at home. It sits in a quiet garden by a small pond. It’s quite beautiful.”
While she explored, Davin piled blankets on the floor behind the dais, well hidden from the door. He patted a place beside him. “We should try to sleep.”
A small smile curved the corners of her mouth. “You slept on the way.” She seemed to listen. Her face, half in shadow, grew serious. “Do you feel it, Davin?”
“Feel what?”
“Something is not right. I began to sense it the moment I saw LaHeer Limtayca. He is different.” She bit her bottom lip. “Not the way he looks. Of course, he is older. Not the lack of hair.” A yawn… Her head rested on his shoulder. “What was it? I wish I had seen his eyes. I wish…” Her words trailed off into a deep sleep.
Davin sat beside her, his mind racing. If TheLise had picked up something strange, his inclination was to accept that there was a problem. Wish there were another exit in this place. With utmost caution, he let the breadth of his thoughts widen. His senses picked up nothing troublesome in the vicinity of the vault. And yet, like TheLise, he felt uneasy. When you are so worried, TheLise, why have you drifted into sleep so easily? And a deep sleep at that?
Squirming around to face her, he shook her gently. “TheLise. TheLise, wake up.”
No response. He uncapped his flask and tipped some water into his hand. Flicking drops at her face, he called her name again. He wet her lips. He shook her harder. She groaned. He shook her again. Her eyes fluttered open, but rolled back in her head. “TheLise, open your eyes and look at me.” Sliding his arms beneath her armpits, he hoisted her to standing. With his mouth close to her ear, he demanded once more that she wake up. A muffled noise outside the mausoleum, added desperation to his attempts. A gentle slap on each cheek—another shake. Her eyes opened, focused on him, showed surprise.
The UnFolding Collection Two Page 63