Back Under The Stairs - Book 2 in The Bandworld Series

by John Stockmyer

  A slender girl with black hair and dark, fearful eyes. Standing rigidly, as if rooted to the spot where she'd been concealed.

  Platinia!

  -11-

  As she had feared, the Mage, John-Lyon-Pfnaravin had returned. Platinia could feel his terrible green eyes stabbing at her back as she led him toward the tower room. Could he see inside her mind? Was that the reason this Mage was still alive?

  Melcor had not known her plan. When Melcor was building crystal-power to bring back Pfnaravin, Melcor had not known that Platinia would bring the ceiling down or he would have stopped her. Because he could not read her mind, Melcor was dead!

  Though she had tried to kill John-Lyon-Pfnaravin in the same way, she had failed to do it. Failed because ... he was holding his white cat. She could not hurt a cat.

  So John-Lyon-Pfnaravin had escaped to the other world. And, as she had feared, was back again. As terrifying as ever.

  "This place continues to confuse me," said the Mage at her back. He said that quietly to keep any soldiers who might be near from hearing.

  Though knowing everything (he was Pfnaravin!) he often talked like that. Like he was lost.

  Platinia felt mixed-up all the time.

  At one time, she believed she had control ... at least a little ... of this Mage, John-Lyon-Pfnaravin. By thinking, she had helped him build his power. At the battle.

  "Are you sure we're going to the turret room? The one I was in when I went to the other world? The one you were in, too, helping me go?"

  "Yes."

  You must be careful with a Mage. Even now, without his magic crystal, the Mage sensed Platinia was misleading him. Which she was -- taking him up and down and round and round. To give her time to think. To think of how this Mage could die.

  If she failed to find a way to kill him, she must take him to the room.

  She wished to take him anywhere but to the tower room!

  She had been looking for the cat when the soldiers came into the hall. That was why she was back of the curtain.

  The soldiers and the priests.

  Not priests of the god of light, Fulgur. But priests from Malachite.

  After the soldiers and priests had gone, she was still behind the curtain. With the cat. It was then that John-Lyon-Pfnaravin had discovered her, making her very much afraid.

  He had gone. Now he had returned!

  He had asked for food. She had found him some and he had eaten. In a pantry off the eating hall.

  Poison was a way to die. But she had only heard of poison. How could she poison someone without poison?

  While eating, John-Lyon-Pfnaravin had asked his questions. Like he always did, his glittery, green eyes boring into Platinia's mind. (As she, sometimes, could bore into the mind of others.) She was very much afraid! Afraid that the Mage could see murder in her mind!

  But he did not.

  This time, his questions were not about a "sun" a "moon" or "stars" -- whatever those things were. Nor did he ask if the world was round or flat. Or other, mysterious questions of that kind, questions that made no sense. No. This time, his questions were about the war.

  She knew little, but thought that Malachite was winning. Otherwise, why would there be these soldiers in the castle of the Hero?

  That was what the Mage thought, too.

  He wished to know about his crystal. If she had taken it to the man called Coluth, like she had promised.

  What could she say to that? Of course, she had not done that. Crystals made men into Mages. Made them still more dangerous. When this Mage had left from the tower room, the crystal, on its chain, was on the floor where he had stood.

  He had told her to take the golden gem to Coluth, Navy Head. But she had done another thing. Instead, not wanting to look at that thing of power -- certainly, not to touch it -- she had left it there. Until she could find a stick.

  Finding a stick, she used the stick to pick up the crystal's chain.

  She knew what to do then. Put it in Melcor's secret hiding place.

  The Mage, Melcor, did not know that she knew of his secret place. But she had watched Melcor slip the wall stone out and swing it to the side. Watched Melcor consult the magic book that he kept there in that large space. (Melcor had put her under a light spell that bound her. But he had forgotten to take away her mind. Or sight. So she had learned what Melcor thought only he knew. About the hiding place.)

  "Are you sure this is the way? We've been going up and down stairs a long time."

  The Mage could not be fooled much longer. It was dangerous to lie to Mages. Ever! She would have to take him to the tower, after all. Since there was no means that she could see to make him dead, she must do what he commanded or he would hurt her!

  "We are almost there, John-Lyon." She had remembered that he wanted to be called that name. John-Lyon.

  Even after he had become the Mage of Stil-de-grain -- for his own reasons -- he denied that he was also the dread sorcerer, Pfnaravin, Crystal-Mage of Malachite.

  Who could understand the mind of Mages?

  When the soldiers came in the not so long ago, they had come to catch Pfnaravin. The Army Head had asked the castle slaveys about Pfnaravin. Why he was not in the castle like the Head had thought.

  Platinia had told the Head that the Mage had traveled to the other world. But that he would come back soon. That was what the soldier wished to hear. Platinia always told men what they wished to hear.

  That was when the soldiers built the cage. To trap Pfnaravin.

  After straining to lift the cage up all the stairs, they had put it on the place where Pfnaravin must come back. In the tower room.

  Platinia had showed them where to put the cage so that, when the Mage returned, he would return into the cage, and so, be trapped.

  As the Head soldier had wanted, she had tried to throw her mind into the other world: to beg John-Lyon-Pfnaravin to come back. Though she could only hope her mind was with the Mage, she had wished that John-Lyon-Pfnaravin would come back. She was so sure the soldiers would then kill the Mage! It was the perfect time to do it since he would return without his crystal.

  Then, everything went wrong. The other man had come instead. Platinia knew the other man was not Pfnaravin. But did not tell that to the soldiers. (Platinia only talked to men when she was forced to do so. Men were dangerous! Men hurt her!)

  The old man in the cage had said he was not Pfnaravin; but the soldiers did not listen. The chief priest had wished to torture the old man. The Head soldier had said no. That first, they would give him time to realize that he must answer questions. It was then that the Army Head had the old man's cage raised up into the air. For safekeeping.

  But the old man died. From her hiding place behind the ... tapestry ... she had seen that. Heard the Army Head say the old man was dead. Saw the soldiers take his body out.

  It was after that, after the others left, that the real Pfnaravin had found her hiding behind the cloth.

  Platinia was tired from all this climbing. Her mind was wandering.

  Did the soldiers know that the real Pfnaravin had returned to Hero Castle? She did not think so. John-Lyon-Pfnaravin had hidden from the soldiers, as she had been hiding. They had both seen the old man die.

  If Platinia had gotten free from John-Lyon-Pfnaravin, she would have told the soldiers he was there. Since Pfnaravin was without his crystal, the soldiers could have killed him.

  But the Mage had stayed with her every minute. He had gone with her as she got his food. He had kept her with him while he ate.

  And after eating, the Mage had questioned her. About the crystal.

  What could she say? She must tell the truth to the man with eyes that pierced her mind and body. Eyes the color of the sky of Malachite. Making chills go through her when he looked at her and smiled.

  So she had told him. But with a little lie. How the soldiers had come so that she could not take the crystal to the man, Coluth. Told him she had hidden it instead. Of course, the soldiers h
ad come much later. A fact she had not told the Mage.

  Then, John-Lyon-Pfnaravin, desiring his crystal, had wanted her to take him to the crystal's hiding place.

  Which meant that he would be safe from her. Safe from ... everyone. For how could she find a way to kill the Mage while he wore his crystal!?

  Now, her time run out, she led John-Lyon-Pfnaravin through the curving, upper hall. And finally, into the tower room beyond.

  The floor was wet. Slippery. But that was always true. There, to the left, was where she had bent Melcor's magic to make the ceiling fall.

  Melcor's body and the stones that crushed him had all been taken out. In the long ago.

  The room smelled ... bad.

  "So, you said that Melcor had a hiding place in here? Where is it?"

  "It is in that, wall, John-Lyon." She had no choice. She had to tell.

  "Show me."

  Platinia still leading, they crossed over to the wall.

  Bending down, she counted stones from the bottom. One, two, three. One, two. That was the stone that moved. That was the stone that, when you put your fingers on its edges, you could pull it out.

  She had seen Melcor do that. Later, when she had to hide the crystal, she had been surprised how easily that big stone moved. But only if you pulled straight out.

  It looked just like the other stones in the room's dark walls. Dirty. With black streaks. Sometimes, like the others, wet with morning or with evening mist.

  But that stone was different. When, just like Melcor, she had pulled on its roughened edges, it had come straight back. After that, like Melcor, she had moved it to the side, the space opening in back of it. A large space. A space for the hiding of the magic book.

  She had never learned to read. She did not know anyone who could. Anyone who was alive. Melcor could read the book. But he was dead.

  Could John-Lyon read the book of magic? He was a Mage, so maybe he could read.

  Would the reading of this book make him more dangerous? At that terrible thought, she felt sweat start to streak her forehead!

  With both book and crystal, would he be too powerful for anyone to kill? Using Melcor's own magic, she had killed Melcor. But Melcor was a lesser Mage.

  Now that she thought of it, it was strange that John-Lyon-Pfnaravin had said nothing of the book ........ But not as strange as other things that the Mage did.

  "Well, if this wall opens, show me how its done."

  She could delay no longer. The Mage was eager to have his crystal. With his crystal around his neck, would he hurt her now? Or would he wait and hurt her later? Platinia knew nothing of the mind of Mages. Only that he would hurt her sometime. Like before.

  Putting her fingers on the edges of the block, the stone that was two more than three blocks up from the slippery floor, she pulled.

  Again, the block came out. She swung the block to the side.

  "Clever," John-Lyon said.

  The tall Mage shouldered past her, now. Was doing something strange, like he often did. Was using his hands as if to measure the size of the hidden place.

  Was the crystal still there? The yellow Mage-crystal of Stil-de-grain? Platinia, trying not to look, had stuck it back into that black space. Had shaken it off the stick so that it fell back in there.

  She had not seen the book. She did not want to look at a magic book any more than she wished to see a Mage-crystal. Such things were dangerous.

  "For now, Platinia, if you don't mind, I'd like you to stand out in the hall. To warn me if soldiers are coming. Would you do that for me?" The Mage spoke differently than Melcor did. Differently than King Yarro spoke to her. But she was not fooled. He did not want her to look for soldiers. He wanted her outside the room when he put the crystal back around his neck.

  While his orders were like questions, she knew she must obey.

  "Yes."

  "Thank you. I won't be a moment."

  The Mage was so ... polite ... that sometimes, she had been fooled into liking him ... a little ............

  She must not be fooled!

  Trembling, Platinia left the Mage in the tower room.

  Was there time for her to run and get the soldiers? Time before the Mage got the crystal around his neck?

  No.

  All her plans were ruined. She had lost her chance to kill him. Now, no matter what he ordered her to do, she must obey. She would look for another chance to make him dead ... but it would be a long, long time. Again, she was the slavey of John-Lyon-Pfnaravin. As John-Lyon-Pfnaravin was, again, the Crystal-Mage of Stil-de-grain.

  She had a sudden, horrible thought! Had the man, Golden, found the green crystal of Pfnaravin that King Yarro had hidden in Xanthin Palace? If so, would Golden give it to the Mage?

  She shuddered again, sweat running down her face unnoticed. She did not want to think about a double Mage! There was too much terror in that thought!

  Trying to hide her mind, even from herself, she waited in the hall. There was nothing else that she could do.

  So, she waited, cold in the damp hall. Cold, though she wore her long, black robe.

  Presently, she heard a sound. It was the thunk-thunk sound of Mage-boots on the stone floor. He was coming out.

  In a wild hope, Platinia thought that, maybe, someone else had known of the secret hiding place! That someone else had stolen the Mage-crystal! That there was still a chance of killing this John-Lyon-Pfnaravin before he got his power back!

  Turning, she saw that he had something in his hand. A ... paper ....."Did you find ...?"

  For an answer, the Mage pulled the yellow disk from his tunic front. It was on the chain about his neck.

  Quickly, Platinia turned her eyes away. Though the golden crystal had a different look, there was no doubt it was around his neck.

  Thinking about crystal-power, Platinia trembled so that she could hardly stand. Looking up again, she was relieved that the Mage had put the crystal back beneath his tunic. She could think again.

  "Are you feeling all right," the Mage asked, suddenly.

  Before she could scream, his hand was on her face! Touching her cheek! Touching her forehead! "You're sweating. Do you have a fever?" .....

  Desperately, Platinia probed the Mage's mind ........

  No.

  In his mind, the Mage had no wish to harm her now. She could feel that. Feel that as she touched his mind with hers. Instead, he felt ... pity. Why, she did not know.

  She also did not know how to answer the Mage's question. When he asked questions, she almost never knew the answers. He had asked about a ... fever. She did not know what that was.

  "I ... I ..."

  "Don't worry, Platinia. I don't think you've got a temperature. You're not sick, just frightened." Sick?? Temperature?? "We'll get out of this yet. You're afraid of the soldiers? Is that is?"

  "Yes." That was true. Platinia was also afraid of them. They were men.

  "Melcor had a couple of other things in his hiding place. A book. And this." He showed her the piece of paper.

  Though the paper frightened her, he made her look. The page had lines on it. That was all that she could see.

  "It's a map. If I don't miss my guess, more than a map. An architect's blueprint of Hero Castle." Architect??? Blueprint??? "I don't know a lot about the castle but I do recognize some of the rooms and the dining hall."

  He was looking at the ... map ... now. His mind was on the map, not on hurting her. And that was good. "Though I've got to study this a bit more, I think that it shows an underground tunnel out of here. ... A secret passage underground," he added when he thought she failed to understand.

  Of course there was a Mage-hole in the castle. Everyone knew that. Mages had secret ways of travel. Though she knew little of the world, even she knew that!

  True, Melcor had never taken her inside the castle through his secret hole. But he had one. Maybe more than one. Everyone knew that about a Mage's castle.

  "Platinia." The Mage's eyes were upon her, mak
ing her shrink into herself. "You must tell no one about the tower hiding place." Though her tongue failed to speak, she nodded. "I've put a spell on the door so that it's death, even for you, to open it again." She barely had the strength to nod.

  The Mage smiled his loving/evil smile, knowing she must obey. "You said that Zwicia is still here?" She had told him that when he had asked before. While he was eating.

  She nodded.

  "If this is what I think it is," he said, his lips smiling under his knifepoint eyes, his finger pointing at the ... blueprint?? "we can get in and out of the castle anytime we like. Nothing like an ace in the hole to use in an emergency."

  Ace in the hole???

  When Mages spoke, who knew what they might mean?

  -12-

  Platinia knew more about the castle than she would admit, John decided, as, bound for Zwicia's room, he followed the girl down the irregular stone steps that led away from the tower. Knew the byways of the castle quite well (most of which she'd taken him down, for some reason, when she'd led him to the tower room.) He wondered if, using her knowledge of the keep, he might be better off to hide in some out-of-the-way spot in the castle than to try to escape from it. ......

  Decided against that.

  He'd already asked Platinia how the war was going and she didn't know any more about the fate of Stil-de-grain than he did. To learn what had been going on -- ostensibly his purpose for coming back to Stil-de-grain -- he had to get out of the citadel. Find some way to mingle with the band's more knowledgeable natives.

  If the paper he'd found in Melcor's hiding place was a blueprint of the castle, he should be able to locate Melcor's "escape" route, a discovery that would not only get John outside where he could question people about the war, but also give him his own private entree to the turret room and ... home.

  What luck! Platinia knowing where Melcor hid the book, the hidey-hole proving to be big enough for the static electric generator. (No sense advertising that he had the device with him. Which was why he'd sent Platinia from the room while he retrieved the machine from under the stone table and hid it in the wall space.)