***
Somewhere in the depths of the Fifth Circle a pair of legs protruding from one of Hawthorne Keep’s walls kicked disconsolately. Prince Akish’s legs—for they were his—seemed to have intended to follow the rest of his body through the gelatinous wall but hadn’t quite made it. The legs kicked once, twice more, while a ripple surged slowly and impressively across the reality of the wall as it became slightly less than real. One more surge, another kick, and the legs were dragged unceremoniously into the Sixth Circle.
The Fifth Circle is ended
The Sixth Circle
Rafiq was plunged into brackish water before his stomach had time to catch up with him. It closed over his head in a rush, sparking a white hot panic that made him flail wildly with his arms and legs, clawing at insubstantial water. Then something gripped the back of his shirt and hoisted him upward, and Rafiq felt his head break the surface. He beat uselessly at the water, casting about desperately for anything solid to cling to, his eyes wide and frozen.
“Stop it, Rafiq!” hissed a voice in his ear.
Rafiq heard it as from a distance in his mad, thrashing panic. It wasn’t until something painful pierced his ear that he was shocked into the realisation that it was Kako’s voice in his ear. She wasn’t dead or injured. She wasn’t still lying in the fifth Circle with a pool of blood spreading from her cracked head. She was here with him, her arms around him from behind to keep his head above water. It was she who had dragged his head above water, she who had–
“You bit my ear!”
“Didn’t have a hand free to slap you,” panted Kako. “Anyone would think you hadn’t had to swim before.”
“Haven’t,” said Rafiq shortly, grimly concentrating on not windmilling madly with his arms. It didn’t feel like it, but he knew Kako was keeping him afloat with her arms around his chest and the slow, steady stroke of her legs.
“I’m going to put you over by the wall,” she said. “It’ll give you something to hold onto. Try not to kick me again, won’t you?”
“Again?”
“And if you hit me again I’ll bite your other ear.”
“I hit you?”
“Well, it was more of a glancing blow,” said Kako. “But it’s probably going to bruise. There you go.”
It took Rafiq several waterlogged seconds to realise that she was nudging him into a curving wall of slimy brick. He seized upon two of them that protruded sufficiently to offer grip and threw a glazed look around. They were in a well, the opening a bright circle of light far above, and the walls curving around them in serried ranks that rose higher than Rafiq could easily follow until they met the opening. Here and there one jutted out further than its fellows, a possible but not very probable route of escape. As far down as they were, the light was green and soft, and made the water seem almost yellow.
Kako, who was still supporting him with one hand and calmly stroking through the water with the other, said: “It’s too deep to reach the bottom as well. I checked just before you fell through.”
Rafiq tried not to let the idea of bottomless depth take hold on his mind. “What happened? Where’s Akish?”
“What do you think happened?” Kako said disgustedly. “He killed us. The Keep is trying to keep him out of the sixth Circle because technically, he hasn’t passed.”
“We’re alive,” said Rafiq, his eyes catching an eruption of bubbles against the curve of the wall across from him. He ran his tongue over his teeth and found that they were all there again.
Kako managed to shrug in a silent ripple of stagnant water. “That doesn’t mean he didn’t kill us. The Keep likes to make things safe– well, until the last Circle, anyway. It split us into three separate Constructs: didn’t you feel the split?”
“That’s what that was?”
“The split vision? Yes. The Keep copied us and put a copy into each of the Constructs to interact with the others. The prince killed Constructs of us: the same deal that was offered to you.”
Rafiq said: “You told us it was all a construct.”
“Well, it was.”
“Yes, but the only way through it was to pretend that it was real, and to act as we would have if it was real.”
“Are you angry because I misled you, or because you forgot it wasn’t real?”
“I’m not angry!” said Rafiq angrily. In truth, he was angry because it was hard to remember that Kako was alive, though he was speaking to her. The feelings that the fifth Circle had stirred up were still raging, high and fierce, somewhere deep inside him.
Kako said: “I see that,” and smiled at him, warm and apologetic. The warmth of it utterly did away with his anger, but left him shivering in its wake with reaction or perhaps cold. He felt stiff and wrong and somehow extinguished in the wet embrace of the well.
“There’s something over there,” he said, his attention again caught by a burst of bubbles.
“Yes, it’s probably Prince Akish drowning,” sighed Kako. “Can you hold onto the wall for a bit?”
Rafiq, who desperately wanted to say no, said: “Yes,” and Kako vanished beneath the yellow surface in a brief flurry of pink silk and bare feet. He watched the bubbling mass of air breaking the surface over by the wall with clenched teeth and the savage thought that he would much rather Akish drown alone and perhaps take with him all hope of breaking Rafiq’s indenture to the crown, than that Kako should also drown in the rescuing of him.
She stayed beneath the water so long that the bubbles ceased to froth at the surface, and Rafiq began to think that she really had drowned. Then there was a shallow disturbance in the surface: a swirling indent that gave way to a slight bulge, and Kako slid silently into the green light once again. Close by her head bobbed another, and two limp arms floated to the surface as she towed Akish toward Rafiq. He wondered if he’d looked quite so pathetic when she did the same for him.
“Had to get his chainmail off,” she said. “Can you hold the front of his gambeson? At the waist? His legs and arms will float by themselves.”
Rafiq put out one stiff hand to grip a handful of Akish’s gambeson, feeling distinctly perilous. “Is he dead?”
“No. Well, sort of. If I can force the water from his lungs he’ll be fine.”
Forcing the water from Prince Akish’s lungs proved to be a short and violent business that almost jolted Rafiq from his handhold. Once she had the prince on his back, Kako proceeded to vigorously pump at his chest with the heel of one hand, the other supporting his shoulders. After the fourth or fifth assault Akish convulsed in the water, his chest jerking up to meet his knees, and regurgitated a disturbing amount of yellowish water.
Kako immediately rolled him to one side despite his feeble struggles, patting him encouragingly on the back, and when he stopped coughing and gasping Prince Akish seemed content to float with one hand on her shoulder. He was a swift and capable swimmer, Rafiq knew: he wondered exactly why the prince had almost drowned.
Kako, her eyes glowing with golden-brown mischief, met his eyes and said: “His legs were stuck over in the fifth Circle.”
“Curse you, wench, do you never stop talking?” rasped Prince Akish.
“There’s a fine thank you!” instantly said Kako. “Should I have let you drown?”
There was a brief silence before Akish said: “You were useful to me. Where is my chainmail?”
“It didn’t float.”
Rafiq saw the moment that a catastrophic idea struck the prince. There was a splashing as the prince’s fingers frantically patted down the front of his gambeson where Rafiq knew he had a secret pocket, then a swirling of water as Akish’s arms circled to keep himself afloat, relief etched clear in his face. Kako must have put back whatever it was she had stolen from him.
Implausibly oblivious, Kako said: “When you’re rested, your highness, we might as well proceed to the next Circle.”
Akish stared at her. “How? I thought only the princess and the dragon knew the way through the Circles?”
“I’m not!”
“–then I suggest that one of us climbs to the top lever, another swims to the lower lever, and we pull them together.”
Prince Akish thought about it for a long time, and at length voiced the same suspicion that Rafiq had been nursing. “You’re unusually helpful, wench. Why?”
“Normally I’d try to stall you,” Kako said, shrugging a circle of ripples. “But Rafiq doesn’t like it here: so, on to the seventh Circle! It’d be much safer for you if you left now, though.”
“I have prevailed until now,” the prince said stiffly. “I shall prevail yet.”
“You know, I think you really believe that. Your certainty is actually terrifying.”
“Rafiq can dive for the underwater lever,” Akish said, even more stiffly. “You’ll climb for the one above water. I shall remain here.”
“Rafiq can’t swim.”
“I’ll climb for the top one,” Rafiq said wearily. His shivers had become full, body-wracking shudders.
“Shaking like that? I don’t think so. You’d just fall back in and I’d have to rescue you again. No, you’ll have to stay here. I’ll pull the top lever.”
“How do I know you won’t let me drown and take the Door Out?” said Akish immediately.
Rafiq grinned. He had expected nothing else.
“You don’t,” said Kako, cheerfully comfortless. “That’s the point, you see?”
Akish gave her a hard look. “I do see. Nevertheless, between what the Keep intends and what its guests do, there is a wide chasm that makes me exceedingly uncomfortable.”
“Well,” said Kako. “What about Rafiq? Do you think he’d let you drown?”
“No,” Akish said, his head jerking back in surprise. “He can’t. The Burden laid upon him forbids him bringing about, being party to, or in any way encompassing my death. Besides, his slavery is to the crown in general as much as me in particular. If I die, he remains enslaved.”
“Well then...” Kako said, shrugging. She was clinging close to the wall now, her sodden scarf wrapped so tightly around her neck that Rafiq was surprised she could breathe. As he watched, she made a clean, lithe lunge from the water and caught at one of the bricks higher up. For a moment she hung from her fingertips, perilously close to falling again, then another short burst of effort saw her other hand firmly in place on another brick and one foot in a hollow spot.
When Kako reached the ledge there was a scuffle and a slight shriek from above.
Rafiq, one hand reaching for the first brick in the climb up, said: “Kako! Are you all right?”
Her voice floated back down apologetically. “Sorry! There was a rat up here.”
“You’re afraid of rats?”
“It surprised me!” came the indignant reply.
Akish, with no patience for Rafiq’s teasing, said: “Wench, do you have the lever?”
“Yes. How long will it take you to get to yours?”
“Give me a count of ten,” said Akish. He was peering down into the water, where Rafiq thought he could see a faint glitter of silver: Akish’s chainmail, no doubt. “It’s not so far down, but I’ll need time to position myself.”
“Will you go now?”
A splash and a ripple answered her. At Rafiq’s internal count of two, she said: “Rafiq?”
“Yes?”
“The water is going to sink. Probably quite rapidly. You’ll need to keep holding onto the wall, because the current will be quite strong, but you’ll need to keep changing your grip to follow it down.”
With a feeling of dread, Rafiq said: “Yes,” and began to feel below the water for his next hand-hold. As he did, there was the grinding of gears from above, accompanied by a shower of rust and cobwebs. A dimple appeared in the centre of the well, lazily spinning, and as lazily spread until it was a rippling coil fully to the edges of the well. Rafiq, already aware that he was sinking lower in the well and seeking another hand-hold, found that his legs were being slowly sucked away from the wall and tried to fight down his panic.
Kako’s voice said from above: “Don’t be startled, Rafiq; but it’s going to get noisy soon.”
Rafiq started to say: “Noisy?” but the word was muffled by an unearthly wail that rose in the close air of the well and tore at his eardrums. He desperately tried to cover his ears, but by then the pull of the spinning water was so strong that he needed both hands just to stay by the wall. If he had felt a sympathy approaching horror for Akish’s part in this Circle, Rafiq now felt that the prince, in having his ears clogged with water, was the fortunate one. The wail was so painful, in fact, that when it stopped all Rafiq could think about was the blessed relief of the silence. It took the rapidly rising water and Kako’s rather impolite remarks from her perch high above him to make him realise that something must have gone wrong.
Akish burst from the water shortly after that, spitting water and coughing.
“Curse you wench, you were trying to drown me!”
A barely audible mutter of: “Oh, for pity’s sake!” floated down to them.
“Repeat yourself, wench!”
“I said, your highness, that the water needs time to sink! You’re going to be under water for quite some time– longer if you keep letting go of your lever and have to fight the current to get back to the surface!”
Akish looked to Rafiq for confirmation. “The water was sinking,” Rafiq said. “It was only a yard or two above your head.”
“You must have been able to feel the current!” said Kako exasperatedly.
“Mind your tone, wench! I shall dive again.”
There was another mutter from above them, but this time Rafiq couldn’t make out any of the words. It was probably just as well. Akish evidently thought so as well, and since he couldn’t reach her anyway, he merely snapped: “Begin your count!” and dived again.
This time Rafiq was prepared for the ear-splitting squeal and the drag of the water. It didn’t make the experience any pleasanter, but it did make it possible for him to keep passing hand over hand in a steady, aching routine without panicking. He did that until Akish’s head broke water again. This time the prince was still attached to his lever.
Apparently Kako placed little trust in his continuing to do so, because she shouted above the wail: “Don’t let go! Don’t let go until the water is completely gone!”
By the time all the water had disappeared, vanishing through a round hole at the base of the well, Rafiq was shivering on a slimy bed of something unpleasant and organic, Akish was still clinging to his lever just in sight, and Kako was entirely out of sight in the gloom, presumably still with her lever.
“Shall I release my hold?” bellowed Akish, and it wasn’t until Rafiq heard a faint, garbled reply that he realised the prince was talking to Kako. She must have answered in the affirmative, because Akish began to carefully make his way down to the base of the well. The bricks were much slipperier as the bottom of the well drew nearer, and when the prince was still some way above Rafiq’s head, the hand-holds ceased completely.
Akish snarled, shifting his already perilous grip. He’d flung his chainmail over his shoulder, and with the added weight of his water-logged gambeson and the strain of clinging with his fingertips, it was looking exceedingly likely that he would fall. He dropped the chainmail with a grunt and it made a soft, wet slap against the slick floor beside Rafiq.
“You’ll have to slow my fall,” said Akish. “To break a leg at this stage in the game is insupportable.”
“The floor is slippery,” Rafiq told him, but Akish had already released his grip. The prince caught at his shoulders, Rafiq at his forearms, and Akish sank to the knee in slick, green algae.
<
br /> Akish made a sound of disgust and tugged at his feet. They emerged from the algae with a wet sucking sound, but barely had the holes begun to soften around the edges and fill with thick green water before Kako dropped from the darkness and made another pair.
“It’s all a bit nasty, isn’t it?” she said cheerfully, catching at Rafiq’s elbow to prevent herself falling over. “The door is over there, I believe. Perhaps we should rest before we go through to the seventh Circle. I doubt we’ll have a chance to rest when we get there.”
“Why?” demanded Akish. “What is in the seventh Circle?”
“Not even the princess or the dragon know that,” Kako said; and this time, Rafiq was certain that she spoke the exact truth. “The Keep has one or two secrets known only to itself.”
“Very well, then: I see no use in waiting,” said Prince Akish. “Onward, Rafiq! Onward, wench!”
Rafiq saw Kako take a deep breath in through her nose, and felt her fingers tighten in the crook of his arm. Her eyes met his; uncertain, uneasy, and slightly apologetic. Rafiq wasn’t sure what his eyes told her, but whatever it was, it made her chin set suddenly. More pleasantly, it made her smile up at him; openly, honestly and cheerfully.
She said: “Shall we?”
They stepped into the seventh Circle together.
***
In a grand, high-ceilinged room somewhere in the centre of Shinpo, a pleasant-faced woman attending a well-filled meeting of state suddenly went very pale and ceased to listen to the main speaker. She whispered briefly and urgently to the tall girl beside her and vanished from the room at a genteel trot, her exit hidden by several large, broad-shouldered men and one particularly deadly-sharp woman.
Once in the hall outside, she fairly ran, her elaborate head-dress wobbling dangerously, and arrived via a circuitous route of back allies and secret passages to a comfortable, well-lit library, where a slightly chubby gentleman caught her at the door and embraced her soothingly.
Shards of a Broken Sword Page 22