Bryan Davis

by Starlighter (v5)

  “Elyssa!” His heart pounded. “So the bear story was a lie after all!”

  “Unless you think a bear brought me here for safekeeping,” Elyssa said with a tremulous laugh. “How did you find me?”

  His fingers shaking, Jason singled out a key and pushed it toward the lock. “I’ll explain later.” After clinking it against metal twice, it finally entered the hole. He tried to turn it both ways, but it wouldn’t budge. “I have the key ring,” he explained, “but they didn’t tell me which one is the right key, and it’s too dark to see them.”

  After a pause, Elyssa replied, her voice now composed. “When they first brought me here, Prescott unlocked the door with a silver key. It had a round butt end, and the key itself had three square notches at the front and one triangular notch behind them.”

  Jason began feeling for a key matching that description. “Your memory is amazing, as usual.”

  “It’s important to remember details that might help you later, even the shape of keys.”

  “I’ll try to remember that.” Jason ran his finger along a promising key, but it wasn’t quite right. “How could you see it if they didn’t have a torch?”

  “They used a portable lamp. It has no exposed flame.”

  “I’ve heard of those. We still don’t have them in the commune.” Jason unbuttoned the top of his shirt and let the glow of the finger wash over the keys. It wasn’t much, but it helped. “I think this is it.”

  As he pushed the key into the lock, Elyssa spoke again. “Just a warning. I have been in chains ever since I arrived, so I have not bathed. I likely smell worse than the bears that supposedly stole me.”

  “That won’t bother me.” Gripping the circular end tightly, he turned the key. Rusted metal screeched, and a loud click sounded. He buttoned his shirt, then lifted the crossbar from its brackets, tossed it to the ground, and jerked the door open. Total darkness masked the interior, and a foul odor assaulted his nose.

  “I’m over here, Jason.”

  Crouching, he scooted toward the sound of clinking chains. “How did you survive?”

  “A sentry named Drexel brings me food and water each morning. He told me yesterday of a plan to rescue me. Did he send you?”

  “You could say that.” He touched a hand and grasped it. “Ah! Here you are.”

  Elyssa’s other hand joined in the clutch, a tight, trembling grip. Chains again clinked as she moved. “Jason, since Drexel sent you, I assume you know about the Underground Gateway.”

  “I know about the society, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Do you believe the stories about dragons stealing humans and taking them to another world?”

  “I didn’t until today.” He pulled his hand away and fumbled with the keys again. “Do you know what the key to the lock on your chains looks like?”

  Like a scientist describing a chemical formula, she rattled off the description. “Square end, two triangular notches in the front, one square notch behind them.”

  After checking a few keys, his fingers paused on a good candidate. “I think I’ve got it.”

  “Good.” Elyssa pushed a metallic object against his fingers. “Here’s the lock.”

  Jason slid the key in and turned it. Something clicked. The chains clinked loudly, as if falling to the floor in a heap.

  A hand grasped his, and he pulled her up. For a moment, she wobbled in place. “Are you okay?” he asked as he tried to steady her.

  “I will be. Just give me a minute.”

  Jason kept his hand in hers, ignoring her painful squeeze. As she took several deep breaths, each one came back out as a stifled sob. Soon, she settled down and loosened her grip. “Now we have to find our way out of here,” she said, her voice assuming a take-charge tone. “Drexel told me that if a rescuer came, we shouldn’t use the main dungeon entrance to escape. The guard there is our ally, so we must make it clear that we exited another way. If not, he will be punished severely for not guarding his post.”

  “I understand. Where is another exit?”

  “On the lower level at the opposite side. If we go up the stairs, we should find another descending staircase straight ahead. After we get through a maze of tunnels down there, we’ll find the exit gate.”

  “I heard about that maze. Do you know how to get through it?”

  Her voice sharpened. “How would I? I have been in chains ever since I arrived.”

  Jason sniffed the air. Her comment about not bathing was clearly true. “There’s a prisoner on the upper level who says he’s here because he’s a believer. He says he can help me find the dragon gateway, and he also knows his way through the maze.”

  “Tibalt?” she asked.

  “How’d you know?”

  “Drexel mentioned him. He is a believer, but he’s as crazy as a loon. He’s more likely to stumble over a garden rake than to find the gateway to the dragon world.”

  “Did he do anything wrong to get locked up in here? I mean, something besides being a gateway believer?”

  “Maybe. Drexel didn’t say.”

  “Well, I’d rather have an experienced loon with us than no one at all. Getting lost in a maze wouldn’t be a great start.”

  “Suit yourself, but we’d better get going.”

  Jason groped for her wrist and pulled her hand against his back. “Hang on to my shirt.”

  “Got it.”

  He led the way out of the cell, grabbed the darkened torch, and marched up the sloping corridor. “What’s causing the fumes in the air?” he whispered.

  “I overheard that one of Prescott’s friends found a cavity under the castle that’s rich in extane, and they believe it branches out into a matrix of reserves. You know how much our people crave it.”

  Jason imagined the energy channels in the walls within the castle, a recently invented luxury only the rich could afford. A greater supply would mean cheaper prices for the people and bigger profits for the supplier.

  “Anyway,” Elyssa continued, “Prescott allowed them to mine it, but only if he got a hefty share of the revenue. Obviously they’re doing a messy job, and it’s leaking into the dungeon. I hear it’s even worse on the other side’s lower level.”

  “So no torch there, either. That’ll make the maze even more exciting.”

  When they reached the top of the stairs, Jason lit the torch and held it close to Elyssa. Dirt smudged her face all the way from her small, rounded chin to her high cheeks to the matted hair covering her forehead. Her longer tresses had twisted into oily brown knots that draped one shoulder, making her look like a beggar in the streets. Her skin had paled from her normal tanned and rosy complexion. Yet her green eyes shone like verdant meadows, giving Jason a glimpse of the fertile mind within. Mother had always said that green-eyed girls were the brightest. The Creator painted their orbs with the color of life.

  Elyssa crossed her arms and shifted nervously. “Why are you staring at me? Do I look as wretched as I feel?”

  “No, that’s not it at all. Considering what you’ve been through, you look great. I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just good to see you again.”

  As she offered a timid smile, he looked at the clothes hanging loosely on her emaciated frame. Her long-sleeved tunic was torn, revealing skin along one shoulder and arm, but her thick riding pantaloons seemed intact. “Are you cold?” he asked.

  She rubbed her upper arms. “A little, but it’s warmer up here.”

  “This might help.” He pushed the torch into her hand. “You hold it while I find the right key.”

  When they reached cell twenty, Tibalt pressed his face against the bars, again showing his gap-filled smile. “Ah! You have come back to old Tibber, have you? You need me to dodge the rats, I’ll wager.”

  Jason tried a key in the lock. “We can’t take the torch down the stairs because of a gas leak. Do you think you can find your way through the maze in the dark?”

  “Not I, but the rats know the way. I will ask them to lead us. Oh, yes, th
e rats know the way.”

  “We’ll have to test your rodent-guide theory.” After the first key failed, Jason pushed in the second. It turned easily. He lifted the crossbar and leaned it against the wall.

  Tibalt shoved the door open and danced on the stone floor with his dirty bare feet. “Old Tibber is free!”

  “Shhh!” Elyssa warned. “You’ll wake the others.”

  “No matter,” Tibalt said with a laugh. “They’re inside, and Tibber’s out. They can weep while Tibber shouts.”

  Jason grabbed Tibalt’s elbow. “You’ll be quiet, or I’ll throw you right back in there.”

  “And face the rats in the dark? Tibber thinks not. They will eat you for breakfast, be sure of that.” He pointed at Jason’s nose. “You need the old geezer. Yes, you do.”

  “Old geezer or not…” Jason pulled him along as he strode toward the back stairways. “If you want to help us,” he whispered sharply, “you’ll have to cooperate. We can’t have you dancing and singing while we’re trying to escape.”

  Elyssa followed close behind. “I could make a gag, if that would help.”

  “It might.” When Jason reached the stairway, he looked back at her. “Ready to douse the flame?”

  “We’ll use it while we can. If I see extane sparks, I’ll extinguish it.”

  As they descended the stairs, Tibalt sang out, “Ratty tails and ratty heads, and little ratty noses, watch your feet, or we’ll step on your ratty little toeses.”

  When they reached the bottom, they met a bare wall, black and wet. A dark corridor led to the left and to the right. Jason inhaled deeply through his nose. Nothing except the perpetual mildew and the aroma of two dungeon dwellers. Of course, since extane was odorless, they wouldn’t detect it by sense of smell.

  “Which way?” Jason asked.

  “To the right,” Tibalt crooned. “Always to the right. Beware of the left.”

  Still behind them, Elyssa spoke up. “If that’s true, then the maze should be easy.”

  Tibalt lifted a gnarled finger. “There is one rule that is greater than ‘Beware of the left.’”

  “What’s that?” Jason asked.

  Tibalt pointed at a large gray ball of fur in the hall to the right. “Trust the rats.”

  Six

  The rat scurried into the darkness. “Stay close!” Tibalt called out. The old man crouched low and shuffled away.

  Jason gestured for Elyssa to join him, and they walked abreast. Still holding the torch, Elyssa waved it from side to side. Green sparks popped at the edges of the flame, growing louder and more numerous with every step.

  “I can feel the extane on my hands,” she said.

  Jason rubbed his thumb and finger together. “It’s kind of oily, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it’s oily, but I feel its signature. Every element has a fingerprint of sorts, and I can sense it on my skin.”

  He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Then you really are a Diviner.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “No, not at all.” He glanced at Tibalt, who stooped so low his nose nearly touched the stone floor. “Well, I mean, I don’t think it’s the result of a demon seed, but it’s not something you’d want everyone to know, especially the priests.”

  “Trust me. I am well aware of the dangers.” She smacked the torch against the wall, killing the fire. “Okay, now it’s up to the rats.”

  Ahead, Tibalt made a chittering sound, as if speaking in a ratty language. It sounded ridiculous, but the noise was easy to follow as he led them through various twists and turns, never pausing for a decision.

  Jason opened his shirt again, exposing the finger embedded under his skin. Its glow was dim, painting the air around it a muted yellow, but it provided enough light to illuminate Elyssa’s wide eyes.

  “You have a key!” she whispered.

  He looked down at it. “A key? Tibalt called it a litmus finger, a pointer to truth, or something like that.”

  “I’ve never heard it called a litmus finger. I just know that it’s part of the history of the Underground Gateway. Ever since I heard Adrian talking to you about the legends, I’ve been researching it. After I was hired as a laundry maid in the castle, I was able to snoop around and learn a lot. I noticed that every one of Prescott’s shirts had a patch of soft velvet sewn in where the material would touch the skin over his heart. I thought it must have been to prevent irritation, so I—”

  “The key to the gateway is filled with pure light,” Tibalt said in singsong. “It guides you by day and glows in the night. A man who digests it from under his skin can unlock the gateway and venture within.”

  “That’s the Blackstone prophecy,” Elyssa said. “Where did you hear it?”

  “My pappy taught it to me.” Tibalt continued his chittering while blending in words. “Turn left, my ratty friend? Are you sure?”

  “Anyway,” Elyssa continued, “one day I delivered Prescott’s clean laundry to his bedroom. No one was around, so I searched through his private desk and found all sorts of documentation about the Underground Gateway. I got so immersed, I lost track of time, and the head maid found me. She pretended not to care about my snooping, and I went home at the normal hour. But that night, some guards came to our commune and dragged me away.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve been in the dungeon ever since.”

  “And Prescott faked the bear claw marks,” Jason said.

  “Drexel told me about that. He’s a double agent. Prescott thinks Drexel’s infiltrating the Underground Gateway for him, so Drexel couldn’t tell people about what happened to me. If that secret got out, Prescott would know who spilled the information.”

  “Why would Prescott be so interested in the Gateway?” Jason asked. “He’s been persecuting its members—it doesn’t make sense.”

  “On the contrary. It makes perfect sense. He’s obsessed with finding the gateway. Don’t you think having a finger sewn under your skin proves some kind of obsession?”

  Jason looked into her sincere eyes. She was still speaking about Prescott in the present tense, as if he were still alive. Maybe it was time to tell her what happened. He touched the edge of the glowing skin. “It’s not sewn. It’s burned in there. But it wasn’t my choice. You see, it was in Prescott’s—”

  “Explain later,” she said, waving a hand. “So I think Prescott is persecuting the fellowship because he doesn’t want anyone to find the gateway before he does.”

  “But why? He can’t rescue the Lost Ones by himself. If there really are dragons on the—”

  “Treasure!” Barely visible in the finger’s glow, Tibalt straightened for a moment. “The dragons collect the delights of their eyes, and silver and gold they pile up to the skies.” He crouched again and resumed his slow shuffle through the maze.

  “Okay,” Jason said. “Prescott’s greedy. I can believe that.”

  “The extane mining already proved his greed.” Elyssa rubbed her thumb and index finger together. “And this maze is thick with the stuff. With all the turns, there’s no ventilation, so the gas collects in pockets. We’ll have to detoxify when we get out of here.”

  “I thought extane was harmless.”

  “In small quantities,” Elyssa said, “but if you get too much, it can make your heart race so fast it could eventually fail. It’s a metabolic intensifier.”

  “How do we detoxify?”

  “We eat the bark of the manna tree. It’s a slow healer, but it should work.”

  Jason licked his lips. A bitter taste coated his tongue. Although extane was odorless, it definitely carried an acrid taste.

  “Aha!” Tibalt pointed at a faint light in the distance. “I told you! I told you the rats were our friends!”

  “The rear exit?” Elyssa asked.

  “I’ll find out.” Jason drew his sword and skulked toward the light. The air freshened, and the film on his tongue faded. Soon, the source of light became clear, a gate with solid wood bars instead of iron. No
guard stood on either side. Had he been called away by Drexel? Or was the security lax here? After all, who would try to break into a dungeon? And any prisoners who escaped from their cells would likely never make it through the maze.

  Jason grabbed one of the bars and gave it a hefty shake. Solid. He found a lock and tried a key, but the lock was already disengaged.

  He slid his sword back into its scabbard and stared at the gate. Why would they leave it unlocked? It didn’t make sense. He quickly tried each key until he found the right one. Taking note of the key’s notches, he left the gate unlocked and hustled back to Elyssa and Tibalt. “That’s the exit, but it was unlocked.”

  Elyssa’s brow dipped low. “Unlocked? Is Drexel helping us again?”

  “I was wondering that, too. And the guard’s not there. Drexel’s really smoothing the path for us.”

  Tibalt crooned again in singsong. “A path too smooth is a path to avoid, neither trail nor tongue should you trust. To choose the easy when the path is greasy will turn your lives into dust.”

  “He’s got a point,” Jason said. “Could Drexel the double agent be double-crossing us?”

  Elyssa’s skeptical look deepened. “Why would he lead us this far only to ambush us now? And he knew you had the keys, so he wouldn’t have to unlock the gate.”

  “Another good point. Whoever wants us to march out of here without a hitch must not be associated with Drexel, so we shouldn’t take the bait.”

  “We could set a bait of our own,” Elyssa said. “Just to see what’s afoot.”

  “I can hear your brain churning. What do you have in mind?”

  She nodded toward Jason’s chest. “Does anyone else know you have a litmus finger? Based on my research, it’s a key that many greedy people would kill to obtain.”

  “A few know by now.” Jason looked down at his glowing skin again. “So what makes it a key?”

  “According to Prescott’s notes, it’s some sort of genetic material container. It slowly spills the material into someone who puts it under his skin. Over time, that person will become a human genetic key that will allow passage through the Underground Gateway.”