The kortexi nodded.
“Isn’t this space,” Thal continued, “right along the line as we followed it back from the morgle?”
“What morgle?” Tevvy asked.
Blakstar ignored Tevvy. “I think so, if my reckoning is not far off,” Blakstar replied to Thal.
“And, it was about the time the string started to fade,” Thal finished, “so there could have been a connection here, which would mean that this person’s mind could have been attached to the morgle in the same way Tevvy and Klare’s were attached to Gar’s. But there was no one here to knot the pattern back together, so in his case, the pattern of his mind has partially unraveled.”
“It is no more than he deserves,” Blakstar noted, “for being a black maghi.” There was a bitterness in his voice that stopped Thal from replying, that caused Tevvy to look up at the kortexi in surprise.
“We’d better go,” Thal said.
“Before we go,” Tevvy said, “we should take a look at what is down here. Did you notice anything on the black maghi that might tell us what he is doing here?”
“I did not go through his things,” Thal replied.
“Blakstar,” Tevvy said, “you go stand by the door leading upstairs and keep an eye out for anyone heading down. Thal, you go take a look at what is in the crates, and I’ll check this black maghi for any clues.”
“You’re not planning on stealing any of his things?” Blakstar asked, suspicious of what the thief was planning; his hand went to and gripped the handle of his sword.
Tevvy shook his head. “Only if they are evidence,” he grinned innocently. “Now, go listen, and if anyone comes, warn us.”
Without a second look at the others to see if they were moving, Tevvy stooped and began searching the black maghi’s clothing and body. He did not stop to examine anything he found, but he simply took everything and slipped it into a small bag he produced from one of his pockets, then tied the bag shut, slipping it into his pack, resting on the floor where his captors had tossed it.
Fools! he thought. Amateurs! Not even taking the time to go through it! He shook his head, hearing the sounds of crates being opened nearby, and knew that Thal was working. He knew he needed to hurry, so he would have time to also look through the crates for concealed spaces. He made a thorough, although quick, search of the small room, then moved to the larger storage room.
“Looks like foodstuffs,” Thal said when he entered the room.
Tevvy took out a dagger and went to the closest crates, looking inside. He pulled the top off a barrel inside the crate, revealing the contents as coarsely ground flour. He slid his dagger into the flour and felt the point hit something hard about four inches down. He brushed the flour to one side around the edge, moving it until he found two rings. He hooked a finger through each ring and pulled carefully. Part of the inside of the barrel lifted out, revealing a compartment underneath filled with swords.
“How did you know to do that?” Thal asked in surprise.
“These are not trustworthy people,” Tevvy said, “and untrustworthy people in a place like Shigmar always have something to hide.”
Tevvy carefully replaced the flour and the top of the barrel. He then softly tapped each barrel in the crate with the hilt of his dagger, smiling each time he found another barrel sounded different in the lower part. Only one barrel of the six in each large crate contained what it was supposed to. He turned to Thal. “There are enough weapons here to supply a small army, inside the walls of the city.”
“We have to get this information to the Headmaster,” Blakstar noted, “especially since we saw the vanguard of an army arriving just north of the city.” He looked overhead. “We cannot be far from the gates; their intent must be to assault the gate guards and open the gates, allowing the attacking army inside the walls . . . ,” he stopped, looking at the door. “Someone is coming,” he hissed, waving his companions toward the doorway and stairs going down. Tevvy was there, almost before the kortexi stopped whispering; Thal was caught flat-footed, and so hesitated before moving, then tripped on one of the crates. Blakstar ran and pulled him to his feet, dragging him toward the door. The handle moved as he went through the door with Thal, pausing only to close the door as softly as he could while still moving down the stairs. They halted in the darkness at the bottom of the stairs, listening for the sounds of the person overhead. Tevvy heard the handle rattle, and the door start to open.
“Cover your faces!” Tevvy hissed, “and don’t either of you look up!”
A dagger slid silently into the awemi’s hand, and he stood poised to throw it up the stairs. The door above opened.
“Pumar?” came the harsh-voiced query from above. “What are you going back into the sewers for?”
They heard shuffling boots; Tevvy saw legs silhouetted at the top of the stairs, and lifted himself onto the balls of his feet, ready to spring forward and hurl the dagger, praying he could make it up the stairs before whoever was there toppled over, dropping the torch he carried.
“What are you doing?” came another voice from above.
Tevvy held still.
“Checking on the maghi,” replied the harsh voice at the top of the stairs.
“Idiot!” came the response, “do you want to eat your own hands? ‘Cause Pumar will cut them off and feed them to you if you disturb him!”
“I thought I heard someone moving around down here.”
“Probably the sounds of the rat he is questioning.” Tevvy could hear the sound of harsh laughter from above; he considered killing them, for calling him a rat. His grandmother’s voice told him not to be stupid; he waited.
“I just wanted to be sure.”
“Suit yourself,” came the response, “they are your hands.”
The figure at the top of the stairs mumbled, turned, and the door above closed. Tevvy let the breath out he was holding.
“That was too close!” he whispered to the others.
“Let’s get out of here,” Blakstar noted, “before someone discovers that you are no longer being questioned.”
“Should we go help the kailum?” Thal asked.
“Where are they?” Tevvy asked.
“Back in the dungeon healing one of the council members,” Thal replied to Tevvy’s question.
Tevvy snorted. “Isn’t that slightly dangerous? Does Klaybear want to get back into his cell?”
“Why don’t you check where they are?” Blakstar suggested.
Thal nodded, touched the symbol on his wrist, and said, “Klare.”
“Why Klare?” Blakstar asked.
“She is more likely to notice, since her verghrenum are against her skin,” Thal replied. “Then both of them will know that we are finished, since we are inquiring after them.” Thal lifted his finger. “It appears that they are still in the dungeon.”
“I wonder what that means?” Blakstar mused.
“What are you two talking about?” Tevvy asked, confused by their talk.
“Thal discovered,” Blakstar went on, “that we can locate each other using the verghrenum, which is how we located you,” he finished with a smile.
“Did you notice your verghrenum warming several times over the last fifteen minutes, or so?” Thal asked.
“I was a little pre-occupied, hanging there waiting to be tortured,” Tevvy said wryly, “so, no, I did not notice.” He looked around. “Uh, how do we get out of here?”
Thal was looking at one of his bracers, tapping it with the finger of his right hand. He looked up, face coloring. “Sorry, I was thinking about. . . .”
Tevvy interrupted him. “Never mind what you were thinking,” he noted wryly, “I wouldn’t understand anyway. I don’t see how we open a door here.”
“No, probably not,” Thal said, “since it is activated by teka.” The white maghi raised a glowing hand and touched the center of the wall at chest height. The section of wall slid back, and the odor of the sewers crashed into them. Thal quickly covered his mouth and nose
with the cloth hanging loose around his neck. The kortexi wrinkled his nose, then stepped through the now open portal. Tevvy imitated Thal, then followed Blakstar. Thal stepped through, then looked back to watch the door close.
“Can you reset the traps?” Blakstar asked Thal.
The white maghi squinted at the now closed portal, then shook his head. “I would probably set them off, if I tried.”
Tevvy was looking south down the passage. “Where are we?” he asked.
“Northeast section of the sewers,” Blakstar replied, pointing and moving south. The others followed.
“From which direction did you come?” Tevvy asked.
“North from our sanctuary,” Blakstar said, “then east, then north through the central area, then east.” They stopped at the crossing passage.
“Right though the center of the sewers, then,” Tevvy said. “We should probably go straight west from here, then south.”
“Why?” Blakstar asked. They turned west, walking slowly and quietly.
“In case anyone sees us,” Tevvy replied. “As long as they do not see us in the same part of the sewers, we won’t arouse suspicion. Also, we should take the opportunity to explore more of the sewers, in case the founders left us any more surprises.”
“Sound reasoning,” Thal remarked.
They followed the passage west, pausing when they came back to the passage running north from the center of the sewers. They turned north, then west again, following a passage that would take them to the west side of the sewers and Shigmar, presumably to the north-south passage that ran past the entrance to their sanctuary. Tevvy was closely watching the walls and floor for any similar sign. They turned south, heading directly for the doorway to their sanctuary. Tevvy stopped suddenly just as they approached the bridge over the west branch of the river. His eyes traveled over the floor and up the west wall.
“There,” he said, pointing.
Blakstar and Thal looked where he pointed, saw another slot and vessel symbol in the wall. Tevvy had already moved to the wall, looking for the hand-shaped indentation. The kortexi stood behind the little rogue.
“The slot is here,” the awemi said, “but I don’t see any spot for our hands.”
Blakstar looked at Thal. “Should we investigate?” he asked.
Thal smiled. “Definitely,” he said. “I want to know what other surprises the founders left for us.”
The kortexi slid his sword out of its scabbard slowly, trying not to make any noise, then slipped it into the slot. A section of wall swung slowly back, revealing a passageway lit by ancient magluku. The passage turned to the right after about thirty feet. Tevvy stepped into the passage, looking for any signs or symbols on the walls. He found the kortexi’s sword blade sticking out of the wall next to the door.
“The slot goes through to this side,” he noted, “so we can open the door from inside.”
“See where it goes,” Blakstar said, “and we’ll wait here.”
Tevvy nodded and moved away. Blakstar spoke to Thal. “Since the passage turns, you should probably go down and stand at the corner, so we know what is happening to the awemi.”
Tevvy glanced back and saw Thal coming toward him; he looked carefully around the corner and saw a short hallway becoming stairs going up. Tevvy moved down the short hallway and began to climb stairs about forty feet from the corner. The awemi found a door at the top with spyholes, one of them at his level. He looked through and saw an open room with a symbol inscribed on the floor. He smiled to himself and went back down to where Thal waited.
“What did you find?” Thal asked when Tevvy returned to the corner.
“A secret entrance into a house, I would guess,” he replied, “in the northwest part of Shigmar. There were spyholes looking into a large room that had some kind of symbol painted into the floor.”
“What kind of symbol?” Thal asked.
“Like the symbol of a telepad,” Tevvy said, “although it was hard for me to see, since only one of the spyholes was at my height, and the angle made it hard to see the symbol clearly.”
Thal smiled, then walked back to where the kortexi waited; Tevvy followed.
“Where does it go?” Blakstar asked.
“I think we have found our way out of Shigmar,” Thal replied.
“What do you mean?” Tevvy asked.
“Both Klaybear and Headmaster Myron,” Thal explained, “have mentioned a ‘secret entrance’ of the kailum, somewhere in the northwestern quarter of the city, one that allows the kailum to bypass the gates, or enter and exit the city when the gates are closed. It appears that the founders saw our future predicament, and so prepared a way for us to escape the city, in case the river exit was blocked.”
“So this passage leads to that secret entrance?” Blakstar asked.
“Very likely,” Thal replied.
“We should go back and tell the others what we have found,” Blakstar said.
Tevvy nodded, moving out of the secret hallway and turning south; he heard the door close behind him and the kortexi’s sword sliding into its sheath.
Chapter 4
We have long studied the effects of trauma or violence on the mind; most often, the victim suppresses the memory, such that he, or she, no longer remembers the incident. For lack of a better explanation, which continues to elude us, some have called this forgetting ‘a gift of the One to victims’. . . .
from Annals of Melbarth, Ninety-seventh Series, Guest Lectures
Lecture by Headmaster Sheldu
Klaybear walked carefully down the hall, stopping a moment in the doorway to check Master Wegex’s body, to be sure he was dead. He found that, similarly to Avril, Wegex had broken his neck when he hit the door to the cell area. As he passed further down the hall and approached the rubble blocking the passageway, he began to hear the sounds of moving rock from the other side of the rubble. He guessed from the distance he had traveled down the passageway that the opening where Klare had been imprisoned, and where his master was now trapped, could not be very far from this side of the rubble. He crawled carefully up the pile and started to shift some of the stones on the right side of pile, while keeping a wary eye on what was left of the ceiling. After about ten minutes, he heard the sound of rock clinking to his right, and he guessed Myron must also be shifting rock from his side. Another ten minutes of shifting rubble and Klaybear found the opening that led into Klare’s former prison. He stopped to wipe the sweat and dust from his brow and was surprised when a larger piece moved from the opening, and he saw his master’s sweaty, dirty face through the gap.
“Good morning, master,” Klaybear said. “It’s a strange place you have appointed for us to meet.”
The Headmaster smiled slightly. “You’re in better spirits then when I last saw you, dragged off in chains to a cell that must lie somewhere behind you.” Myron shifted another rock. “How is Klare?” he asked.
“Seeing to Mistress Storga,” replied Klaybear. “Her injuries were severe, but I think we have her stabilized. Klare continues to heal her behind me.” Klaybear shifted rubble on his side; the opening was nearly wide enough for the Headmaster to pass through. “How’s the ceiling on your side?”
“Not very stable,” Myron said, moving more rubble, “so I stayed as close to this wall as I could, thinking it would be more stable.”
Klaybear smiled as he struggled with a larger chunk of rubble. “The Headmaster of Shigmar is known far and wide for his great wisdom.”
Myron chuckled. “Your mood has improved much, my son,” he said, “probably related to the fact that you found your wife whole and well.”
Klaybear’s face fell. “It was a near thing,” he said, shoving more rubble aside and further widening the opening. “If Tevvy hadn’t gotten us out when he did, if Blakstar had not insisted on retrieving his sword, we would not have been looking through the grate and down this hall when Ghelvon and his apprentice came down the hall and opened the door. Even then, if the kortexi had not gone be
rserk and killed Ghelvon, I do not think we could have rescued her, weaponless. They intended to . . . rape her,” he finished, struggling with the last words.
Myron reached through the opening and touched his apprentice gently on the arm. “Do not dwell on what could have happened,” he said softly, “you rescued her in time by the intervention of the One.”
Klaybear’s face paled at Myron’s mentioning the One. He recalled what had happened after they discovered the compulsion Gar had placed on Tevvy and Klare, the way he and Thal had cut the strings tying them to Gar, and how he had nearly failed to knit the pattern of her mind back together. Had it not been for the One, and those he brought with him, Klare would be. . . . No, he must not think about it; he must follow his master’s advice.
“You look troubled, my son,” Myron’s voice cut into his thoughts.
“We have not told you all that has happened,” he said, “not even Klare knows.”
Myron frowned, then looked at the small passage they had forced through the rubble. “I think if we move a little more, you can pull me through,” he noted, “then we can talk.”
“Well,” Myron said after hearing his apprentice recount what had happened to them after they left the dungeon, “your account has interesting theological implications.”
Klare sat in one of the guard’s chairs, silent and pondering all that her husband had told her, since she could remember nothing of the experience after the compulsion was severed.
“What kind of implications?” Klaybear asked.
“Maybe implications is the wrong word,” Myron replied. “I should have said, ‘interesting facts,’ to be more precise.” Myron sat on the other guard’s chair, one hand on his chin, tapping thoughtfully.
“Facts, like?” Klaybear asked again.
“He referred to you all as his children,” Myron replied, “which had been interpreted figuratively, but the fact that he has a mate implies that we should have taken the reference more literally.”
Klare came out of her thoughts and snorted. “Only a chauvinistic fool could not have reached that conclusion!” she exclaimed.
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