Mitchell Graham - [Fifth Ring 03] - The Ancient Legacy(V1.0)

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Mitchell Graham - [Fifth Ring 03] - The Ancient Legacy(V1.0) Page 30

by Mitchell Graham


  "Nothing. Except you would also be killing your friend."

  Mathew was about to reply when he realized that

  Shakira was looking at something over his shoulder. He turned around to see two more Orlocks standing in the shadows, dressed in black leather armor and pointing crossbows directly at Collin.

  "If you try reaching for the power," Shakira said, "your friend will die. You have my word on that." "Don't listen to them, Mat."

  Mathew felt his heart begin to race. No other dream had been as clear as this one or possessed its detail. He could see the pores on Shakira's face and the veins on the back of her hands.

  "We've done nothing to you," he said. "Nothing?" Shakira repeated. "You were responsible for the deaths of three of my people in Elberton, and twelve in the forests of lower Elgaria. It was you who closed the mountain tunnels outside of Tremont, killing hundreds more, and you say you've done nothing? Shall I go on?"

  "Those things are true," Mathew said, "but it was your people who attacked us. We were only defending our­selves."

  "Is that what you call it, human? Defense? You are the greatest mass murderer in three thousand years. Karas Duren was a child compared to you. You have one minute to make up your mind."

  "No, Mat," Collin told him. "Once she gets the ring, she'll kill every human she can."

  One of the Orlocks stepped out of the shadows and clubbed Collin across the back of his head with its fist, knocking him to the ground. Mathew went to him. Collin was unconscious but appeared unhurt. With his hand on the hilt of his sword, he rose to his feet.

  "Think, human," Shakira said. "It's four against one. You'll just get both you and your friend lolled."

  "Perhaps," Mathew said. "But you still won't have the

  ring. Why do you need it, anyway, if you already have one?"

  "To ensure my people's safety. It is too great a risk to allow these rings to float free in the world. Each one is a danger to us."

  "You can't believe Teanna d'Elso will simply hand hers over, can you?"

  "We will deal with the Nyngary princess when the time comes. Give me your answer."

  Mathew glanced at the two Orlocks standing with their weapons trained on Collin's back. One word from Shakira and his friend would be killed.

  "I'll get it," Mathew said.

  He walked to the edge of the chasm, looked down and shuddered. Then he studied the door and the area sur­rounding it more carefully. There was no way to get across the gap and only the smallest of ledges running below the door to stand on. The air around it had the same blurred quality he remembered from the other dream.

  Out of curiosity, Mathew picked up a rock about the size of a pear and threw it across at the opening. Even though he was prepared for it, the flash of light and the noise still caused him to jump.

  Mathew awokeon the floor of the apartment, propped him­self up on his elbows and looked around. He was in his bedroll, Lara beside him. Outside, the rain beat against the windowpane and a spectacular lightning display lit up the sky. He chided himself about his imagination and settled back down again, staring up at the ceiling, wide awake now. Except for the lightning, it was pitch-black outside. He tried to think about the disturbing dreams. They had been occurring with increasing intensity over the last weeks and he wondered if it was because he was getting closer to his ring. According to Delain's man, the ring was in Teanna's palace, which made far more sense than in a cave. She would want it close where she could protect it. The idea of what an Orlock might do if they could actually make a ring work kept him awake until the sky grew light.

  * * *

  They were all eating breakfast in Father Thomas's rooms when Garvin came to visit. After passing a few polite comments about how they had slept, he got right down to business.

  "The council and I discussed your situation last night and again this morning," he said. "As you can see, it's still raining, so we'll not be asking you to leave in this kind of weather. You got a lot of people talking last night, Father. I'll say that."

  "That's a priest's job, my son. I've always thought it's better to get people to think than to tell them what to think."

  "I'll be honest," Garvin went on. "I don't agree with everything you said, but there was certainly some truth in it. At any rate, the council asked me to tell you that if you want to stay, you'll be welcome ... all of you."

  Father Thomas smiled at him. "That's very kind and I'm deeply touched. If the circumstances were different, we might be inclined to accept your offer, but our business is urgent and we've lost enough time already."

  "Understood," Garvin said. "I'll let the others know. You're free to wander around the town and explore. Stick to the tunnels with lights, if you do. They'll take you just about anywhere you want. You'll find a blue square painted on the wall every sixty feet or so that'll keep you from getting lost. Just follow the one you came in on last night and you'll be fine."

  "I know the hall's on one end; what's on the other?" asked Collin.

  "The residence buildings mostly. Each one has its own color. There are eighteen in all," Garvin explained. He then went through the list and told them he could be found in Green 560.

  "I don't get what the numbers mean," said Collin.

  "We think that's what the Ancients called the build­ings ... in place of a name. The colors were our idea. It didn't seem right calling a building by a number. Almost all of them have numbers. You can see 'em above the main doors or in the lobbies. We've never been able to find any proper names for any of the streets, so we just use the numbers and colors."

  "Strange," Collin replied.

  Garvin chuckled. "It takes some getting used to. I lived in Tyraine before I came here, and all of our streets had names, even the little ones."

  "I heard it was pretty bad there," said Ceta. "It was. After Elita's forces surrendered, soldiers from Alor Satar came through every day for two weeks, telling us to leave. They said Orlocks would be occupying the city and all the country as far up as Lake Larson. Of course, we didn't believe them at first. No one wajited to leave their homes or their businesses. By the fifth day they started clearing people out of the South Quarter and the Orlocks began moving in. That was enough to convince me. I got the wife and my boys and we left. Some folks were never convinced."

  "I owned the Nobody's Inn in Elberton," Ceta told him. "I lost it when the creatures took over the town."

  A smile lit up Garvin's face. "Why, I've been there a number of times. It was a fine inn. I'm sorry for your loss, mistress," he added. "Thank you."

  "At any rate, you're all invited to the midday meal to­day. It'll be back at the convention hall. We'll have a lot more vendors than we did last night. Some good artists, too. If you need help, I can send one of the men to guide you. No one'll ask you to make any speeches today, Fa­ther, unless you're wanting to."

  "No, no," said Father Thomas. "I think we'll give everyone a rest. I imagine we can find the hall again on our own."

  "Any chance the weather will clear?" Mathew asked. Garvin shook his head. "It's hard to say, son. I was up in the Red Tower's observatory earlier and couldn't even

  make out the mountains. Normally, if it's a clear day you can just about see Ardosta from up there."

  "Then we'll probably just wander around and take in

  the sights, if that's all right with you," Father Thomas said.

  'That's fine, Father, but if you go exploring, stay away

  from the lifts. They're a bit dicey. Sometimes they work

  and sometimes they don't. The stairs are a safer bet."

  "I'm sorry," Mathew said. "What are lifts?"

  "It's those little rooms with the buttons. When they're working they'll take you up to any floor you press. The problem is, they're hit or miss. Two of our boys got stuck in Yellow 350, and it took us most of an afternoon to get them out."

  "Thanks for the warning," said Father Thomas. "We'll walk if we feel adventurous."

  They said goodbye to Garvin an
d promised to meet him at the celebration. A half hour later they were making their way through the tunnels and speaking in hushed tones. There wasn't any reason for lowering their voices, it just seemed like a natural thing to do in a tunnel. As luck would have it, Collin missed the last blue marker and they found themselves back at the Red Tower again.

  "Sorry." he said. "I suppose we'll have to backtrack."

  "As long as we're here, I'd like to see that observatory Garvin mentioned," Mathew said.

  Father Thomas looked up at the ceiling for a moment. "How many buttons did you say were in those lifts yester­day?"

  "Forty-two, Father," Collin replied.

  "That's what I thought. I think I'll let you two young men go. You can tell me all about it when you come down."

  Neither Lara or Ceta were overwhelmed by the prospect of climbing forty-two flights of steps and also declined, so he and Collin set off by themselves. Halfway up, Mathew's legs began to tire and he began to reconsider the wisdom of his decision.

  "I don't see how Garvin made this climb," he gasped.

  "I'll bet he took one of those lifts he told us not to take," Collin said.

  "There's no power in this building, remember? What floor are we on?"

  "Twenty-eight," said Collin, wiping the sweat off his face. He came to a halt on the next landing, rested his head on his forearm and took a moment to regain his breath. Mathew slapped his friend on the back and trudged up­ward.

  Collin muttered something under his breath that Mathew didn't catch and started after him. They reached the roof ten minutes later and waited for their heart rates to return to normal.

  The observatory was a glass enclosure completely cov­ering the top of the building. At the moment, there wasn't much of a view—in the last hour, fog had closed in on New Raburn, turning the world gray. Even the lower por­tion of the building was shrouded. It was the highest up Mathew had ever been, and what little they could see made the climb worth it. It felt like he was looking down from the sky. He gazed out at the swirling clouds for a minute and stepped away from the edge. It was the same thing in every direction, though for a moment he thought he could see a break in the clouds to the west. The open­ing, if it was one, disappeared quickly.

  Near the center of the roof was a plain looking rectan­gular structure containing four doors which appeared to be made of the same material as those in the lobby—a strange type of metal, Mathew thought, not silver, though their color reminded him of it.

  "Can you read this sign, Mat?"

  Mathew looked at where Collin was pointing and saw a small brass plaque written in the ancient tongue. " 'Obser­vation Deck,'" he said.

  "Great. It's not like a person couldn't figure that out for themselves."

  He and Mathew spent a few minutes exploring and

  didn't find anything remarkable except for two more of the rectangular structures at either end of the roof, each containing the same silverlike doors they had seen in the lobby.

  "We'd better get back down," Collin said. "It doesn't look like there's much up here."

  "I suppose you're right. Thanks for coming with me."

  They began heading back to the stairway when Mathew abruptly stopped. "Now that's curious."

  "What is?"

  "That one has six doors."

  "Huh?"

  "You see that structure in the middle?" Mathew pointed. "It has six doors. The others have four."

  Collin shrugged. "So?"

  "And those two on the right are different from the oth­ers. I didn't notice it until just now."

  "Maybe they needed more lifts for the people in the middle of the building," Collin suggested.

  Mathew started walking toward them.

  "What's the big deal if they're different? C'mon."

  "I don't know," Mathew answered. "It's strange."

  "What? That those two are made of glass? Maybe they got bored, or maybe they ran out of the silver metal. Who cares?"

  "Hang on a minute," Mathew said. He ran his fingers over the surface of the door. "This isn't like any glass I've ever seen."

  Collin looked closer. "Hmph ... I guess you're right. But I still don't see— Whoa!"

  Startled, both of them jumped back as the the door sud­denly slid open to reveal a tiny cubicle inside. It was ap­proximately the same size as the lifts they had looked into, but there was something different about it.

  "I thought Garvin said there wasn't any power in this building," said Collin. "That just about scared me to death."

  "Me, too."

  They moved closer and craned their necks in. It took only a glance for Mathew to decide they were not looking at a lift. A familiar shiver coursed through his body—the same feeling he got when he accessed the ring's echo.

  On the wall facing them was a small sign written in the old tongue:

  SPEAK DESTINATION CLEARLY OR USE KEYPAD TO TYPE IN CODE

  Mathew translated the words for Collin. Just below the sign there was a black glass window approximately twelve inches square. Seemingly suspended on the in­side of it they could see what looked like several rows of letters with a single row of numbers. It was the oddest thing either of them had ever encountered. "Key-pad," Mathew said.

  "What's a key-pad?" Collin asked.

  Mathew shook his head. "I think that's it," he said, pointing at the window.

  Collin frowned, then walked to the back of the struc­ture to examine' the window more closely. "It doesn't come out on this side," he said. "Someone must have painted those letters inside the glass."

  "I don't think so," Mathew said. "I think this is a ma­chine of some type. It has something to do with the ring."

  His mention of the ring stopped Collin in his tracks. "How do you know?" he asked, coming back around.

  Mathew explained about the sensation he had just got­ten. "I felt it as soon as the doors opened."

  "Are you positive?"

  "Definitely."

  Mathew stared at the walls of the cubicle. There was something odd about their appearance. "Do you know, I don't think the insides of this are glass at all," he said. "I think they're some type of crystal."

  "What's it supposed to do?" Collin asked. "There are no buttons, so it can't be one of the lifts."

  Mathew vaguely recalled a reference in one of the An­cients' books that had something to do with his ancestors being able to cross the world in minutes using specialized machines. His initial impression had been that the book was referring to the old airships, but now, looking at the silver disks in the floor, he wasn't so sure. He glanced up at the ceiling and saw six more just like them.

  "Mat," Collin said, touching Mathew on the arm, "there's a glow coming from the window."

  Both of them immediately stepped away from the opening. There was a faint red glow and it was also com­ing from the walls. Collin and Mathew looked at each other and waited. Nothing happened. The glow remained for nearly a minute, then faded away, and the doors closed with a hiss. Out of curiosity, Mathew took a step toward them again. They opened and the glow reappeared.

  "I can't be certain, but I think this may be one of the Ancients' transporting devices." "Transporting what?" asked Collin. "Uh .. . themselves, I think," Mathew said. "That's what the sign is talking about."

  "I thought 'destination' meant going to the ground floor or something like that."

  "It could, but I suspect that's what the lifts do. If I'm right, this thing could take you to another city or even an­other country."

  Collin's look was skeptical. "You mean you just ask it to take you to Anderon or Barcora and you go?"

  "Theoretically .. . assuming it still works. I don't know when it was used last, and the names of places change over time," Mathew told him. "The machine would have to know what you were talking about if we try it."

  The last was too much for Collin. "That's ridiculous," he said, making a dismissive gesture. "How can a machine know anything?"

  When Mathew took a step closer to the
doors, Collin grabbed him by the elbow.

  "You're not going in there until we know more about it. I can hear you thinking, Mat Lewin, so get it out of your head right now. I'm not going back and explain to Lara that her new husband stepped into a magic room and disappeared." "But—"

  "No," said Collin. "I mean it. Let's get some more in­formation. Maybe Garvin can scare up some books for you to read."

  "I guess," said Mathew, "but I don't want to approach Garvin with this. We can ask Harry. He and two other men recognized me last night. I think they would be willing to

  help."

  They argued about it all the way down the stairs.

  41

  Tenley Palace, Sennia

  Mathew and Collin were not the only ones argu-ing. Fifteen hundred miles away Prince James of Mirdan was trying his best to persuade Gawl to hear Teanna out. And 650 miles to the southwest in the city of Tyraine, Ter-rence Marek sat across from King Seth of Vargoth, and was doing his best to convince him the time was right to launch a full offensive against Alor Satar.

  Seth however, was reluctant. In his view it was better to weaken the enemy by attacking their border garrisons. Shakira listened but did not participate in the conversation.

  "We can have all of our ships assembled in less than a week, highness," Marek insisted. "My people are prepared to die for our cause."

  Seth looked at him and slowly explained his position again. "And that's exactly what they will do if we march on Rocoi before the time is right. Armand Duren in no fool, Marek. According to the reports, they've been shoring up their borders for the past two weeks. We can't simply march and hope no one will notice. These things take time. All we've won is a single battle, and I guarantee you Armand Duren and his brother are going to strike back. The only questions are where and when."

  Their argument went on for another fifteen minutes be­fore Marek turned to Shakira and asked what she thought.

  "How nice of you to include me in your plans," she said.

  "We meant no offense," Seth said. "It's just that—"

  "Orlocks are best at being told what to do."

  "Shakira—"

  "Or perhaps it's that we are incapable of understanding the complexities of the situation?"

 

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