Water Sleeps

by Glen Cook

  “No, Sleepy. We’re going to do five people. That’s all.”

  “Uhm. Good. Hey! Where the heck did the standard go? It was right over there. I’m the Standardbearer. I have to keep track —”

  “I had it moved over by the gap to the stair. So somebody going that way can take it upstairs. Will you quit fussing? That’s Sahra’s specialty.”

  “Speaking of Sahra — Tobo! Where do you think you’re going?” While I was talking with Goblin, the boy had slipped past and headed up the cave.

  “I was just gonna go see what’s up there.”

  “No. You’re just gonna stay right here and help your uncle and Goblin take care of your father, the Captain and the Lieutenant.”

  He gave me a black look. Despite everything, he still had those moments when he was just a boy. He put on a pouty face that made me grin.

  Willow Swan came up behind me. “I’ve got a problem, Sleepy.”

  “Which would be?”

  “I can’t find Cordy. Cordy Mather. Not anywhere.”

  From the corner of my eye I noted that the Radisha had overheard. She rose slowly from a squat in front of her brother, looked our way. She said nothing nor did anything otherwise that might betray an interest. It was not common knowledge that she and Mather had enjoyed an intimate relationship.

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “You did bring him down here?”

  “Absolutely.”

  I grunted. There was one other absentee whose nonpresence I had been willing to ignore until some rational excuse for her disappearance arose. The shapeshifter Lisa Bowalk, unable to shed the guise of a black panther, had gone up onto the plain as a prisoner but was not now to be found among the dead above or the Captured down below.

  Lisa Bowalk had been possessed of a towering hatred for the Company, and particularly for One-Eye because it was One-Eye’s fault that she had become trapped in the feline shape. I had to ask. “What about the panther, Willow? It’s not around here anywhere, either.”

  “What panther? Oh. I remember. I don’t know.” He was looking around like he thought he might spot his old friend Mather hiding behind a stalagmite. “I remember we had to leave her upstairs because we couldn’t get her cage around the first turn in the stair. I mean, it would have gone if Catcher and I didn’t have anything else to mess with, but we couldn’t manage it and the rest of the string both. So Catcher decided to leave the cage up there for later. I don’t know what happened when later came. I don’t remember much of anything that happened after we came down here. Maybe One-Eye should give me another dose of that memory spell.” He tugged on and twisted the ends of his hair, girl-style, and stared down the slope. “I know I left Cordy right down there, just a little above Blade, where it seemed like the floor would be more comfortable.”

  “Right down there” was the downhill edge of the clot of seven dead men. There had to be a connection. “Goblin, what’s the story? Are we going to wake these people up or not?” Me, ignoring everything he had said earlier.

  Goblin responded with a sneer that turned into one of his big toad grins. “I’ve already got Murgen out.”

  “But I wanted him down here where I could ask questions.”

  “I mean I’ve got him out of stasis, bimbo-brain. He’s right over there. I’m working on the Captain and Lady now. Tobo and Doj have been doing prelims on Thai Dei and the Prahbrindrah Drah.”

  Exactly according to my expectations. With the latter two men included entirely for political reasons. Neither was likely to contribute much to the Company’s glory or survival.

  I moved down to where Murgen lay snoring. The echoing racket and the melting ice webs were the only changes I saw. I squatted. “Anybody think to bring blankets down?” I had not. I am what you would have to call disorganized when it comes to present-tense operations. It had not occurred to me to bring spare clothing or blankets or gear. But I sure can plan bloodshed and general mayhem real well.

  There were treasure chambers down here somewhere, though. I had glimpsed several in my dreams. There might be something useful there — if we could find them.

  My stomach growled. I was getting hungry. The rumble reminded me that it would not be long before our situation became desperate.

  Murgen’s eyes opened. He tried to form an expression, a smile for Sahra, but the effort was too much for him. His gaze shifted to me. A whisper struggled through his lips. “The Books. Get... the Daughter...” His eyes closed again.

  It was true. The Captured were not going to jump up and dance tarantellas when they were liberated.

  Murgen’s message was clear. The Books of the Dead were down here. Something had to be done before the Daughter of Night got another chance to begin copying them. And I had no doubt that she would manage that, despite Soulcatcher. She had Kina backing her up.

  “I’ll take care of it.” I did not have a ghost of a notion how I would manage that, though.

  87

  The rescue was running smoothly, like a well-greased siege engine missing only a few minor parts. Goblin had Murgen and Croaker headed toward the surface aboard makeshift litters.

  Croaker had not said a word, nor had he made any effort to do so, even though he had been awake and aware. He stared at me for a long time. I had no idea what was going on inside his head. I just hoped he was sane.

  Before he departed, Murgen did give my hand a small squeeze. I hoped that was an expression of gratitude or encouragement.

  I was not at all happy about his being unable to provide information or advice. I had not thought much about what role I would play after the Captured were wakened. I had operated on the unspoken assumption, more or less, that I would retire to my Annals — or even farther, to the Standardbearer job, if Murgen wanted to be Annalist again.

  More and more people kept coming downstairs even though I had tried to send word up to warn everyone that they faced a horrible climb going in the other direction.

  The white crow continued to curse and jabber semicoherently until it lost its voice. I was concerned about Lady. She had managed that feathery spy quite well for a long time, never giving herself away even when she did try to clue me in, but now she seemed to be losing control. Of herself. I assured her repeatedly that she would go upstairs as soon as I had bearers capable of getting her there. Doj, Sahra and Gota had Thai Dei ready to travel. I gave them the go-ahead. One-Eye would follow him, then Lady would go. The Prahbrindrah Drah would be the last, this time.

  Tobo seemed fascinated by his father, apparently because he could not quite believe that the man was real in a fleshy sense. Circumstances had kept his parents separate almost since his conception.

  The boy started to tag along after the rest of the family. I called out, “Tobo, stay down here. You have a job to do. See about your dad after we get Lady and the Prince moved out. Hello, Suvrin. Why’re you down here?”

  “Curiosity. Sri Santaraksita’s curiosity. He insisted that he had to see the caverns. He drove me crazy reminding me how storied they are in religious legend. He couldn’t be this close to something like that and not explore it personally.”

  “I see.” I noticed the old librarian now. He was working his way up the line of old men, examining each and murmuring to himself. Occasionally he would bounce up and down in excitement. Swan had gone back to make him keep his hands to himself. He wanted to finger and sniff every bit of ancient metal and cloth. He seemed to have trouble understanding that those old men were still alive but very vulnerable.

  “Swan. Bring him up here.” I did want the benefit of his expertise just a while ago. In a softer voice, I told Suvrin, “You’re the one who’s going to carry him back upstairs if he can’t make it on his own. And I’ll be right behind you, giving encouragement by poking you with a spear.”

  Suvrin seemed to have thought about the climb already. He was not looking forward to it, either. “The man has no concept —”

  I interrupted. “What about Shivet
ya?”

  “He’s back right side up and safely away from the pit. I can’t say he seemed particularly grateful, though.”

  “He say or do something?”

  “No. It was his expression. And that was probably because we dropped him on his nose once. In think I’d have trouble being grateful for a pop in the snoot myself.”

  Santaraksita was puffing when he joined us. He, was excited. “We’re walking the actual roads of myth, Dorabee! I have begun begging the Lords of Light to let me live long enough to report my adventures to the bhadrhalok!”

  “Who will call you a liar over and over again. Sri, you know the Right People don’t become involved in actual adventures. All of you, follow me now. We’re going to have another actual adventure traveling into mythology.” I headed on up the steepening slope.

  I soon discovered that someone had gone this way before me. At first I suspected Tobo had gotten farther than I had thought. Then I decided that the disturbances in the frost were too old for that, so concluded that Soulcatcher must have gone back this way, just to see what she could see.

  Back there, small side caves entered the main cavern, few of them large enough to permit passage of an adult body. The main cave dwindled in diameter. We had to hunch down, then we had to crawl. Whoever had gone before us had done the same.

  “Do you know what you’re doing?” Swan asked. “Do you know where you’re going?”

  “Of course I do.” Leadership tip: Sound confident even when you have no idea. Just do not make a habit of it. They will find you out.

  I had been through here in my dreams. But only sort of, evidently, because every few feet I ran into some detail I did not recall from those nightmares. And then we stumbled onto something that was far more than a mere detail.

  The sole of a boot nearly smacked me in the face because I was concentrating on trying to decipher the story encrypted in the frost on the cave floor. That was the story of someone who had been moving wildly, maybe in a panic. Not only had the frost been rubbed away, in places the stone itself was bruised or chipped.

  “I think I’ve found Mather, Willow.” It was one of those odd moments when you discover the trivial. I noticed that Cordy Mather really needed to have his boots resoled. I did not immediately wonder how a man’s leg could stick out like that, with the toe pointing halfway upward above horizontal while the man himself was lying on his stomach. “We’d better stop right here and take a good look. I don’t see the man doing this to himself.”

  Swan said, “I’ll get Goblin. Don’t do anything till he gets here.”

  “Don’t sweat it. I’m fond of my hide. If I lose it, I’ll miss out on our honeymoon.” I drew my sword, for what good that might do, then raised up slowly till the top of my head bumped the cavern roof.

  Cordy Mather had crawled over a hump in the floor. And something fatal had happened to him before he could get all of himself onto the downward side.

  Suvrin eased up beside me. Inexplicably, I found myself painfully aware of him as a masculine presence. Luckily, he was even less interpersonally adept than I was. He failed to notice my flustered and uncomfortable reaction.

  Odd. The urge was not something I would pursue, certainly. I just wondered why I sometimes suffered these sudden, random impulses, some of which were extremely difficult to resist. Ninety-nine percent of the time I did not so much as think about the possibility of combining myself, a man and a bed in a search for adventure.

  Maybe I should not have been teasing Swan.

  Suvrin said, “That sure doesn’t look very appetizing. What do you think happened?”

  “I’m not even going to guess. I’m just going to sit here and wait for the expert to show up.”

  “May I look?” Santaraksita asked.

  Suvrin scooted back. He discovered that the older man was too broad to pass by him there. So we all had to retreat twenty yards so Santaraksita could get past us in turn. I admonished him repeatedly not to go farther forward than I had. “I definitely don’t want to have to drag you out of here.” Though I will grant that the man was a great deal leaner now than when I had worked for him. “And because you want to get home to tell the bhadrhalok all about this.”

  “You were right about them, Dorabee. They won’t believe a word I say. And not only because they’re the Right People but because Surendranath Santaraksita never had an adventure in his life. He never had the urge until this adventure had him.”

  “Rich men have dreams. Poor men die to make them come true.”

  “You persist in amazing me, Dorabee. Who are you quoting?”

  “V. T. C. Ghosh. He was an acolyte of B. B. Mukerjee, one of the six Bhomparan disciples of Sondhel Ghose the Janaka.”

  Santaraksita’s face lit right up. “Dorabee! You are a marvel indeed. A wonder of wonders. The pupil begins to exceed the master. What was your source? I don’t recall ever having read of a Ghosh or a Mukerjee featured in the Janaka school.”

  I snickered like a prankster kid. “That’s because I was pulling your leg. I made it up, Sri.” And that seemed to leave him even more amazed.

  Goblin broke it up. “Swan says you found a dead man.”

  “Yes. It looks like Cordy Mather from this end. I didn’t see his face, though. I wasn’t going to move anything anywhere until we had a good idea what happened to him. I’d rather it didn’t happen to me.”

  Goblin grunted. “Pudgeman, you want to back down here so I can get past you? This tunnel gets pretty tight, don’t it? Watch out you don’t let your chubby butt plug it up. For how come do you want to go slithering around back here, anyway, Sleepy?”

  “Because if I keep going this way far enough I’ll get to the place where the Deceivers concealed the original Books of the Dead.”

  Goblin gave me a funny look but took my word for it. I talked to ghosts in mist machines. Birds talked to me. A talking bird was following me right now, at a distance. At the moment it did not have much to say because its throat was sore but it did manage to rip out a curse or two whenever it had to dodge somebody’s flailing feet. “That’s interesting.”

  “I thought so.”

  “Ah. Yeah. It’s not sorcery, though. It’s your basic mechanical booby trap. Spring-loaded. Stabs you with a poisoned pin. There’re probably twenty more between here and where you want to go. What do you think Mather was trying to do?”

  “If he woke up and found himself down here and didn’t know where he was or what had happened to him, he might have panicked and taken off and just went in the wrong direction. I bet it’s his fault all those guys back there are dead. He probably tried to wake them up.”

  Goblin grunted again. “There. That’s disarmed. I’d better go ahead and see what else is waiting. But first we need to get Mather pulled back so you all can get past him.”

  “If you can weasel past him so can I.”

  “Yeah, you can. But what about your boyfriend and your sugar daddy? They’ve got a little more pork on them.” He grunted and cursed softly as he fought Mather’s remains back over the hump in the floor. I noticed, for the first time, that the echoes were different in this more confined space, jammed with bodies. They were almost nonexistent.

  88

  I do not believe it was miles to where the Deceivers of antiquity concealed their treasures and relics but my body believed that before we got there. Goblin disarmed another dozen traps and found several more that had fallen victim to time. The underground wind whimpered and whined as it rushed past us in the tight places. It sucked the warmth right out of me. But it did not dissuade me. I went where I wanted to go. And was hungry enough to eat a camel when I got there.

  It had been a long, long time since breakfast. I had a dread feeling it could be longer still before supper.

  “It feels like a temple, doesn’t it?” Suvrin asked. He was less troubled than the rest of us. Though raised nearer this place than anyone else, he was less intimate with the legends of the Dark Mother. He stopped staring at the three lectern
s and the huge books they bore long enough to turn to me and whisper, “Here.” He offered me a bit of crumbling flax cake from the pouch he wore at the small of his back.

  “You must have read my mind.”

  “You talk to yourself a lot. I don’t think you realize you’re doing it.” I did not. It was a bad habit that needed breaking right now. “I heard you when we were crawling through the tunnel.”

  That had been a private discourse with my God. An internal dialog, I had thought. The subject of food had come up. And here was food. So maybe the All-Merciful was on the job after all.

  “Thanks. Goblin. You feel any tricks or traps in here?” There were echoes again, though with a different timbre. We were inside a large chamber. The floor and walls were all ice that had been cut and polished by the flow of frigid water. I presumed the invisible ceiling was the same. The place did have a feel of the holy to it — even though that was the holiness of darkness.

  “No traps that I can sense. I’d think they’d leave that sort of stuff outside, don’t you?” He sounded like he wanted to convince himself.

  “You’re asking me to define the psychology of those who worship devils and rakshasas? Vehdna priests would guarantee you that there’s nothing so foul or evil as to be beyond the capacity of those most accursed of unbelievers.” I thought they would guarantee it. If they had heard of the Stranglers. I had not heard of them before I became attached to the Company.

  Suvrin said, “Sri, I don’t think you should —”

  Master Santaraksita had recognized the ancient books as something remarkable and just could not resist going up for an up-close look. I agreed with Suvrin. “Master! Don’t go charging —”

  The noise sounded something like someone ripping tent canvas for half a second, then popped like the crack of a whip. Master Santaraksita left the floor of the unholy chapel, folded around his middle, and flew at the rest of us in an arc that admitted only slight acquaintance with gravity. Suvrin tried to catch him. Goblin tried to duck. Santaraksita bounced Suvrin sideways and ricocheted into me. The lot of us ended up in a breathless tangle of arms and legs.