CHAPTER TEN
“She said to take any opportunity to escape and to use the ‘sick prisoner’ routine,” Brynn repeated. “What’s that?”
Phoenix blinked at him. It was hard to imagine anyone not knowing the oldest escape idea in the book. Maybe that was a good thing. He turned to Heron, who was watching them both eagerly.
“Have you heard of the ‘sick prisoner’ escape routine?”
Heron shook his head, looking bewildered.
“Well,” Phoenix stared at the thick wooden door, “let’s hope the guards haven’t either. Heron, give me that piece of sharp stone you had. Here’s how it goes...”
****
Jade took a deep breath and stepped out of the shadows. Calling up a mental image of her oldest sister, she put a hand on her hip and let her eyelids droop. With her hips swaying as she walked, she put her bare feet carefully down on the grimy stones in front of the temple. As she climbed the first two, the four guards moved together, blocking her way to the door.
She tried to make her voice all deep and throaty; hoping it wouldn’t come out as a nervous squeak. “Good evening gentlemen. I’ve been sent by the Proconsul.” Tilting her head, she looked up at them from under her lashes and smiled.
“We don’t need you, wench,” one of the guards said in a harsh voice.
She went up two more risers and put her hand on her leg, sliding the tunic up a little – and, incidentally, gripping the handle of her knife. She felt ridiculous and had to suppress an urge to giggle at her own actions.
“You may not,” she smiled slowly and heard at least one of the men give a strangled gasp. Maybe she was getting the hang of this. “But the Proconsul seems to think the High Priest does. He’s expecting me, you know, and if I don’t arrive soon, I think he might be just a little upset, don’t you?” Batting her eyelashes, she poked out her lower lip then wondered if she’d overdone it when all four guards took a half-pace toward her.
Behind them, a shadow slipped between the columns.
“You three stay here,” one of the hooded men ordered after a long, thoughtful pause. “I’ll take her to the High Priest, just in case. Come on woman.” He waved a hand at her.
Jade let out a long, slow breath and hurried up the rest of the stairs.
At the door, the monk gave an odd series of knocks and a small door set into the larger panel swung open a few feet. Jade followed the guard inside, waiting in a huge, shadowed antechamber while he spoke softly to the doorkeeper. At the back of the chamber, an enormous statue of Set towered ominously overhead. Jade looked up the glossy, black legs, past the short, stone tunic to the enormous, curved, beak-like face of the deity. She shivered. Whatever Set was the god of, it was not anything nice.
The guard appeared at her side, giving the statue no more than a casual glance. Glad to leave the foyer, she obeyed his abrupt gesture and trailed along behind him, into the dark halls of Set’s temple.
Behind her, just before the door creaked closed, another shadow drifted inside. After the heavy thud of wood closing, there was a gasp from the doorkeeper. Next came a short, wet noise then silence followed by the rustling of cloth and a scraping sound – as though something heavy was being dragged across a stone floor. Jade kept a straight face, resisting the temptation to look around and check to see if Marcus was ok.
As they wound their way deeper and higher into the temple, Jade began to feel profoundly uneasy. The further she went, the greater the distance between her and her friends became. A dagger, her wits and some minor magic were poor weapons indeed against a sorcerer who could raise the dead. Why on earth had she let Marcus talk her into this?
This whole creepy place reeked of unholy death and danger. The stone walls were darkened with soot and the occasional, smoky torch did little more than highlight the blackness between. In the distance, a strange, inharmonious chanting began and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. A faint, terrified scream made her shiver and she jumped as a deep gong reverberated through the building once, twice, three times.
Still, the silent guard glided before her, now leading the way toward a narrow, spiralling staircase.
“Up there,” he jerked his head toward the stairs.
“Aren’t you coming with me?” Jade glanced up the risers.
He laughed unpleasantly and she wished she could see his face beneath the hood. “This is as close as I have to get to the High Priest, thank goodness. Good luck girl, you’ll need it.”
Aware that the guard was watching, she reluctantly put her foot on the first step and began to move upward. She really, really didn’t want to go up. Blast Phoenix and his stupid sword. Surely he could get by without it if he really had to. He’d managed ok on the first level of the game. Another of her lives wasn’t worth giving up for one blasted magic sword.
Just as she had decided to retreat and help Marcus instead, the faint sound of angry shouting reached her ears. Since her hearing was better than the guards’, Jade had several seconds to think and act before he did.
Swiftly she spun to face him, sliding her ruby-hilted knife out of its sheath and up behind her back. With a slow smile she swayed back down the stairs, intending to knock him out if she could. She didn’t enjoy killing people, even if they were digital. First, however, it was time to find out if her command spell would work.
****
“Help! Help! Guard! This man is sick,” Brynn shouted, thumping on the cell door. “Help!”
There was a brief pause. Brynn glanced up at Phoenix, who nodded. The boy shrugged and yelled again. Heron lay on the ground near the door, groaning enthusiastically. Phoenix closed his eyes. The old man would give them away through sheer overacting at this rate.
“Get back from the door, boy!” A rough voice called from outside. Brynn moved over to Heron’s side, trying to look anxious. “Where’s the other prisoner,” the guard demanded.
Brynn pointed. “He’s not well either but he’s sleeping.”
In one shadowy corner, they had piled up filthy straw into a human-shaped mound and draped most of Phoenix’s clothing over it. This was the one weak point in their plan. If the guard had even half a brain cell he would guess it was a ruse and leave. Phoenix held his breath, his fingers digging into stone as he supported himself.
Brynn knelt beside Heron and stroked the old man’s white head. Heron chose that moment to give his best performance, yelping a realistic cry of pain before clutching at his stomach and groaning again. Convinced, the guard pushed the door open and hurried in.
Phoenix leapt. He had been crouched, cat-like, on top of the doorframe, braced against the ceiling. Now he flung himself onto the guard, wrapping one arm around his throat in a choke-hold and locking it on. As the monk staggered, flailed and gasped in Phoenix’s hold, Brynn snatched the man’s curved dagger and short sword. Dashing to the door, the boy checked and nodded the all-clear.
Within seconds the guard was unconscious. Phoenix stripped off the hooded robe and bound him with scraps of rope lying on the prison floor. Stuffing a handful of straw into his mouth, he rolled the man into a dark corner and grabbed up his own clothes.
“Here,” he shoved the robe at Heron, “put this on over your clothes and lead the way. Nice bit of acting, by the way.”
Behind Heron’s back, Brynn grinned and held up the strands of white hair he had yanked out to help the old man’s performance. Phoenix had to press his lips together to stop himself laughing.
“Oh dear,” Heron rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t really remember the way out very well.”
“How about the way to the High Priest?” Phoenix slipped into his shirt. “I want my sword back. Brynn, give me that one,” he held out his hand and the boy slapped the hilt of the guard’s sword into it. Hefting the weapon, Phoenix screwed up his nose. It felt heavy and lifeless. Better than nothing.
“Let’s go,” he ordered.
With stealthy steps, he and Brynn followed the old man down countless halls, half-lit by
smoky torches in wall-brackets. Somewhere in the distance, a weird, unearthly chanting began, followed by a hair-raising scream. A gong sounded three times.
Feeling edgy, Phoenix urged Heron to move faster. The old man waved him silent. He muttered to himself, pointing down each corridor, shaking his head and moving on. Just as Phoenix became certain Heron was lost, a lone monk appeared at the end of the hall, moving swiftly toward them. With a gasp, Heron jumped aside, giving the game away before anyone could stop him. Phoenix ran forward, sword swinging down at the monk’s head.
In a flash the man raised his own weapon and the clash of steel resounded in the narrow hall. Brynn darted in, slicing with the curved dagger, only to have the blade turned aside by a neatly counterthrust dagger. Phoenix skipped back, raising his blade to strike again.
“Wait!” A deep, familiar voice stopped him in mid-thrust. The monk flipped his hood back with an iron-gloved hand. Dark eyes glittered above a fierce, white smile.
“Marcus? Good to see you.” Phoenix lowered his sword and reached out to thump his friend on the arm. “Sorry about attacking you, by the way. Nice reflexes. I would have had you, though.”
“One day we’ll have time to see who’s the better swordsman,” the Roman bowed his head, “but right now we need to find Jade.”
“She’s not with you?” Brynn peered around as though he’d somehow overlooked her.
“I came to find you; she went to look for your sword,” Marcus sent Phoenix a solemn look.
Phoenix let a twinge of guilt slide away. She needn’t have taken such a risk. They could have gone together. He waved Marcus on ahead.
“You lead, we’ll follow and Heron can bring up the rear like we’re your prisoners. Brynn, hide the knife,” he ordered, twisting his own blade up behind his back. The others fell into line and they retraced Marcus’ steps toward the front entrance.
Outside the gloomy antechamber they held a whispered conference. Marcus and Heron agreed on the direction to the High Priest’s rooms and they stole through the foyer. They had just entered a long hall that they hoped would lead to the High Priest’s chambers when a loud cry sounded from behind.
“I think they found the guard we trussed up,” Phoenix murmured.
Marcus shook his head. “More likely the doorkeeper I killed.”
Phoenix swore. “I was hoping to slip out without having to fight our way.”
“Ah well,” Brynn whispered. “It’s been..oh... at least seven hours since our last fight to the death with something supernatural.”
“Are you counting them now, too?” Phoenix was amused in spite of their dire situation.
Brynn chuckled. “I have to have something to tell my grandchildren – assuming I live that long.”
Behind, the outcry escalated and soon came the sound of an alarm gong, followed by running feet. Heron hesitated at a junction, looking both ways in confusion. Brynn almost danced with impatience right behind him. Phoenix and Marcus turned to check for pursuers but the hall behind was clear so far.
“I don’t know which way it is,” Heron whispered. Together, they peered down both passages, hoping for inspiration.
From the left-hand corridor came the sound of manic, insane laughter, suddenly silenced. The four exchanged puzzled glances.
“That was weird,” Phoenix remarked. “Weirder than usual, I mean.”
“I think I hear someone running,” Brynn waved him silent. “Hide.” They pressed themselves against a wall. Phoenix reached up, grabbed the torch over his head and extinguished it by turning it upside down on the floor. They were plunged into near-blackness, with only the sound of their own breathing and the distant alarm cries.
Moments later a slender, white-clad body came hurtling down the left corridor, skidding to a halt at the junction.
“Jade!” Marcus stepped out of the gloom, flipping his hood back.
She started violently and then grabbed his arm, gasping for breath. “Did you get them out?”
“We’re here,” Phoenix assured her, blinking at the bizarre getup she wore. Exotic gold jewellery dripped off her and she was showing a lot more leg than usual. “Is that Marcus’ tunic?”
“And my treasure!” Brynn pointed indignantly at the kings’ ransom worth of gold around her neck and arms.
“We don’t have time for that now,” Jade panted. “The High Priest’s chamber is at the top of a tower back that way and the guard I knocked out will be found any second. If you want your sword, we have to get it now.”
Phoenix shook himself and nodded for her to lead the way.
She turned back and led the way down a long, twisted hall. “Did you bring my staff, Marcus?”
The Roman shook his head. “It’s difficult to sneak when you’re carrying a big stick.”
Jade sent him a humourless look and took a tighter grip on her dagger. “Well, I’ve found out that my magic works on at least some of the guards.”
“Good,” Phoenix approved.
“Magic?” Heron’s voice was far too loud and the others shushed him. “You can perform magic young lady? Can you show me some?” He sounded as excited as a little kid.
Jade sent first Heron then Phoenix an incredulous look, as if to say ‘where did you get this guy? Is he insane?’ Phoenix shrugged. There wasn’t really time to explain why they were dragging an old man around with them.
“Is it ok if we wait until after we get out of this place before I start performing tricks?” she said sarcastically.
“Of course, of course,” Heron agreed, bowing his head. “I’m so sorry. I do tend to get carried away when I find something new and interesting to learn about. Last time it was when my friend’s house caught fire and I designed a machine to help put out fires – unfortunately, I was so busy thinking about it that I forgot to help Augustus and his house burned down.” He sighed.
Brynn stifled a giggle and the desperate mood lightened.
“Here it is,” Jade pointed at a narrow, twisting staircase that seemed to lead into a tower. Nearby, the slumped figure of a guard-monk lay sprawled on the floor.
“Nice,” Phoenix grinned. “What spell worked on him, the old sleep command spell, I suppose?”
Jade flushed and shook her head. “I tried but he resisted it, so I switched it to laugh and that distracted him long enough so I could thump him on the head with my dagger.”
Phoenix stared at her, remembering that instant of odd laughter before. Struggling to keep a straight face of his own, he nodded. “Interesting choice.”
She sent him an exasperated look. “If you want your dumb sword back, we need to come up with a plan and quickly. I hear guards coming from both directions.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Right,” Phoenix focussed his thoughts. “How about we go up and attack as soon as we get in. Then, when we get Blódbál back, we’ll be able to fight our way out of the temple.”
Jade gazed at him and shook her head. “That’s one of the things I like about you – always thinking with your sword arm. Shouldn’t we at least make sure the sword is there before we kill anybody to get it?”
“Fine. Whatever,” he retorted. “So have you got a better plan? I just want my sword back.”
“What is it with you and that thing?” Jade sent him a worried look beneath her lashes. “It’s like you’re addicted to it or something.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Phoenix shrugged her words away, irritated.
Marcus stepped between them, frowning. “Remember – we’re a team. We need to make the most of everyone’s skills.” He sent Phoenix a warning glance, reminding him of their conversations about this very topic – and what it takes to be a leader.
Guiltily, Phoenix remembered his own recent resolve to be more patient and co-operative. From the expression on Jade’s face, she was thinking along similar lines. She gave him an apologetic half-shrug and Phoenix nodded back, feeling the irritation slip away. Marcus was right.
“OK,” Jade whispered, looking over h
er shoulder down the hall. “How about this? Marcus & Heron go up first, since they are already dressed as monks. They get in using some excuse about the prisoners escaping. Then..”
“Then they signal us when they’ve spotted Blódbál?” Phoenix put in.
“Right,” she agreed. “Once we know it’s there, we three will attack while Brynn steals it and Heron keeps and eye out for guards.”
“Oh dear,” Heron moaned. “Perhaps I should have just stayed in that cell.”
Brynn thumped the old man on the back and grinned. “Nah. You don’t want to miss the fun!”
As the sound of running feet grew louder, the five stole up the narrow stairs toward the High Priests’ chamber. At the top was a thick door of dark wood. Jade tugged on Marcus’ arm as he reached up to knock.
“Use the knock they used on the front door. Maybe it’s the secret knock for the day or something.”
He hesitated then knocked in an odd sequence. Phoenix glanced at the hinges on the door and realised it must open inwards – which meant he, Brynn and Jade would be visible to whomever opened it. He waved the other two back down the stairs until they were hidden by the curve of the stone wall. Jade followed his lead but lay down on the steps and inched forward so she could see what was happening.
Phoenix clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. She was so darned stubborn – always sure she knew what the right thing to do was. Deliberately, he let the feeling go and reminded himself that she was usually correct. He didn’t have to like it but he’d be stupid to try and stop her. She must have a good reason.
With a loud creak, the door above swung open, sending warm, bright light cascading down the stairwell. Phoenix and Brynn pressed themselves against the wall, holding their breath. Jade, however, muttered something and waved her hand. Phoenix saw a faint purple-blue glow around her fingers. He had no way to ask her what she’d done, so he listened to Marcus’ deep voice, instead.
“Sir,” the Roman said, “the High Priest is needed below. Some prisoners are requesting an audience – something about the treasure of Netjerikhet.”
The Tekhen of Anuket Page 9