"Hadn't noticed,” Scrornuck said, a little smugly. “My boots are waterproof.” He dipped a finger into the muck and took a careful sniff. “A good little vintage. Water, dirt, worms, bugs, and just a hint of bat guano."
"Thanks for sharing.” Jape said, holding his nose.
Scrornuck pointed. “I think we're almost to the end of it.” The floor sloped upward, becoming dry and almost clean. He stopped and knelt to examine a spot of dried mud, a footprint. “Somebody's been here."
"Recently?” Jape asked.
"Month or two, maybe."
They turned a corner and found themselves facing a metal door secured by a combination lock with four buttons and a knob. Scrornuck pushed the buttons in a random order and gave the knob a twist. As he expected, the door didn't open. He tried a different random combination, with the same result. After a few more tries, he put his shoulder against the door and pushed.
Click. He stopped pushing. A hiss, at first almost too faint to hear but quickly getting louder, came from several small holes in the wall. “Shit!” he shouted. "Down!" With his right hand, he shoved Jape and Nalia roughly to the floor. Jape's light went out. Phut! Something small bounced off Scrornuck's boot. Holding Ol’ Red business-end-down, he raised his left hand almost to the ceiling. Phut! A second object bounced off the shoulder-guard of his jacket. He got his right hand on the sword-grip and squeezed a command. The blade shot out, reaching almost to the floor, a wide, flat paddle blocking the holes in the wall. Phut-phut-phut-phut-phut-phut! The grip quivered in his hand and waves of light shot up and down the shimmering blade as more of the small objects shot from the holes and bounced off.
The shooting stopped, though the holes in the wall continued to hiss softly. Scrornuck cautiously reshaped the sword into a glowing needle and thrust it into the middle hole. There was a sudden pop, then a loud, high-pitched whistle that quickly dropped in both volume and pitch, then silence. “Think I turned it off,” he said. “Jape, you want to hit the lights?"
"I don't know,” Jape said. “Do you want Nalia to get to know you a whole lot better?"
"Huh?” Scrornuck looked down, and in the faint flickering of Ol’ Red's blade he saw what Jape meant. He was standing above Jape and Nalia, one leg on either side of them as they lay on the floor. If Jape started the light now, she was going to get something of a show. “Oops.” He took a quick step back.
"What was that?” Nalia asked, accepting a hand from Scrornuck as she got to her feet and Jape started his light.
"Looks like a security system,” Jape said. “Triggers when somebody who doesn't know the combination tries to open the door.” He held up one of the objects that had shot from the holes in the wall. “Some kind of tranquilizer dart, I think. Knocks an intruder out for a nice long nap.” He waved his other hand over the dart and watched his rings flicker. “A real long nap; the stuff's gone bad, turned to poison.” He dropped the dart to the floor and carefully nudged it up against the wall with his shoe. “Mister Saughblade, would you open the door?"
"With pleasure.” Scrornuck formed Ol’ Red's blade into a thin shim that fit between the door and its frame. There was a brief shower of sparks, and the door swung smoothly open, the bolt of its lock cleanly cut.
They stepped into an outdoor courtyard, overgrown with weeds and tall grass. Night had fallen, or so it seemed. Funny, Scrornuck thought, we didn't spend that much time wandering around. As he emerged fully into the courtyard, he had a more immediate concern: What the heck is that thing? At the center of the courtyard, atop a waist-high stone platform about ten feet on a side, sat a ball of flickering purple light about two feet across.
"Would you look at that,” Jape said softly, taking a step forward and holding up his hands.
Scrornuck held him back. “Let's not get too close till we know what this thing is."
Jape slowly approached the platform, watching his rings flicker. “I think it's harmless."
"Tell that to those guys.” Scrornuck pointed to two sets of bleached bones that lay a foot from the violet ball. He gently picked up one of the skulls and gazed into its empty eye-sockets.
"Is that a real skull?” Nalia asked. “I've only seen paper ones in the Spooky Day Parade."
"The genuine article.” Scrornuck casually tossed the skull to Nalia and stared curiously into the ball of light. The thing's deep purple color made it hard to focus his eyes. From time to time a brighter light flickered like a blue-white spark in the globe's center, illuminating a few slow-moving flakes of something black.
"Here, you can have it back,” Nalia said, tossing the skull in Scrornuck's direction. He looked up a moment too late, and the skull bounced off his hand and shattered on the stone platform. A spark at the ball's center illuminated something black, the shape of a small fish. The black apparition turned, as if looking at the shattered fragments of the skull.
"Mighty delicate,” Scrornuck muttered, reaching for a piece of the broken skull. Zzzzap! A blue-white spark that looked like lightning, or fire, or maybe some combination of the two, leaped from the ball's surface and played across his hand. He yelped in pain and jumped back. “Ow! I thought this thing was harmless!"
Jape looked up from his rings. “Not entirely, it would appear. Are you all right?"
"Yeah, it just surprised me.” Scrornuck inspected his hand. There were no blisters or burns, but it still hurt like the dickens.
Jape walked around the ball again, staring at his rings. “It's a little telepathic, but it's not like Nalia. I wonder if it's..."
"Shhh!” Scrornuck heard the soft noise of people approaching. Reaching for his sword, he took two steps toward the door—and the world went silent. Jape's “uh-oh” was cut off in the middle, the noise in the passage ceased, and even the background sounds of birds and insects died away. It was as though time itself had stopped for everyone but Scrornuck. Then, barely audible over his own heartbeat, he heard a sizzling sound, like an electric discharge. Slowly and warily, he turned around.
"What the...” he muttered. Nalia stood motionless, her palms pressed flat against the ball of light. Blue-violet tongues of something that looked like fire or lightning played up and down her arms, reaching almost to the elbow. Apparently suffering no discomfort, she gazed unblinking into the light, her eyes almost luminous as they reflected the purple glow.
Jape, meanwhile, stared blindly into the distance. Scrornuck waved a hand in front of his face, but there was no response. He shook Jape by the shoulders and finally slapped him. Still nothing. Although Scrornuck didn't understand the precise meaning of Jape's rings, he could see they were flashing a lot more brightly than they had been. Nuts, he thought, maybe Nalia was right about mind-eating monsters. The light-ball looked a little bigger and brighter, and the fluid inside appeared to be moving a bit more vigorously. He had no idea what all these things meant, but he didn't like what he saw.
Crap, he thought, this is gonna hurt. Still, he saw no alternative. Standing behind Nalia, he took a deep breath and yanked her hands away from the ball. The violet fire shot up and down his arms, burning off hair and jolting the muscles like some kind of electric shock. Hanging on to her hands, he staggered back a step. With a loud snap the ball released its grip, the lightning vanished, and the violet surface again became smooth. Both Nalia and Jape sagged, and Scrornuck had to wrap an arm around each to keep them from collapsing.
Sounds of activity returned—the insects first, and then the noises from behind the door. Whoever was out there had resumed their approach. Scrornuck quickly dragged Jape and Nalia to what he hoped was an inconspicuous corner of the courtyard, hacking a small hiding-place in the tall brambles. Maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't be noticed.
"Wha—” Jape mumbled as he regained consciousness. “Do you have to move that fast?” Scrornuck held a finger to his lips and pointed to the door.
Ten soldiers marched into the courtyard. They wore shiny black armor, including ornate helmets that concealed the upper part of their faces, a
nd breastplates bearing the image of Spafu the Friendly Dragon.
"The Orb of McGinn,” the leader of the soldiers said, holding a pendant bearing a small purple jewel close to the violet ball. The jewel sparkled slightly. “As the Dragon breathes, it is coming back to life."
Orb of McGinn? Jape mouthed the words silently. Nalia, still groggy, shrugged.
Two soldiers set a large basket on the platform and opened its lid. “Go figure,” one complained, “first they tell us to guard this thing, don't move it, don't touch it, don't let anybody near it, and now..."
"That's enough!” their leader snapped. “We've got our orders—and by Spafu's tail, you'll answer to me if you damage it! Understood?"
"Yes, Captain!” The basket-carriers saluted and went to work. No sparks or fire jumped from the ball as they loaded it into the basket and closed the lid. Scrornuck looked at his scorched hands and thought, life just ain't fair. As the basket-carriers departed, the courtyard seemed to brighten and the sky became a clear blue.
"Now, as for you three...” The Captain turned and stared directly at Jape, Nalia and Scrornuck. “Consider yourselves prisoners of Lord Draggott. Surrender and come peacefully, please."
Jape led the three out of their hiding place. “That's a very kind offer. Maybe we could join Mister Draggott for dinner some time?"
The Captain spoke patiently, in the manner of a cop trying to talk a robber out of a bank. “You're outnumbered and we control the only exit. Surrender and we won't hurt you."
"Of course you won't.” Jape wagged the “GUEST” tag clipped to his cape.
Two of the soldiers drew their swords.
"Did you really think that'd work?” Scrornuck whispered.
"It was worth a try."
"This is your last chance to come peacefully,” the Captain said.
Jape shook his head. Nalia reached for her sword.
"Have it your way.” The remaining soldiers unsheathed their weapons. Three stayed by the Captain, blocking the way out, three turned to face Scrornuck, and the remaining two advanced on Jape and Nalia.
Scrornuck shot Jape a questioning look. “Nothing up my sleeve today,” Jape said. “They're all yours."
"You guys sure you want a fight?” Scrornuck raised Ol’ Red and let about four feet of the blade spring forth. The attackers blinked and paused for a moment, but continued their advance. One soldier raised the inevitable taunt, calling, “Hey, cutie, what's under the dress?"
Scrornuck sighed. Not again. “Man-eating tigers,” he said, slowly raising one leg, as if to give them a peek. “Wanna look?” He suddenly spun about and swung Ol’ Red, shifting his grip slightly so the sword's blade jumped out to leave neat little cuts on the soldiers’ cheeks, just below their helmets. “I win!” he shouted as the three dropped back. With a broad smile, he raised his sword and bowed graciously as he'd seen the duelists in Taupeaquaah do. What a great place, he thought.
As Scrornuck bowed, the soldiers rushed forward, thrusting their weapons. Ah, shit, he thought, I knew this was too good to be true. Ol’ Red leaped out to deflect two of the blades, but the third got through, finding the gap between his belt and the bottom of his armor. He felt a sudden pain followed by the sticky warmth of blood as the sword grazed his right side. Ol’ Red's blade flickered and disappeared as he whirled to his left to escape the attack. For a moment he stood motionless, growling a deep animal sound that was equal parts pain and anger. The wound, though minor, hurt.
The soldiers charged. It was a mistake—no, a big mistake, a very big mistake. The attacker on Scrornuck's left, the one who'd opened the cut in his side, had just enough time to make a noise that was less a scream than a surprised whut? as Ol’ Red's blade shot out to its maximum length, edges glowing a coppery red, and skewered him through the heart. The man in the middle accomplished little beyond bouncing his blade harmlessly off Scrornuck's shoulder-guard before uttering a muffled huh? as the fibersword opened him from sternum to bellybutton. The third was more fortunate: Scrornuck slammed Ol’ Red's guard down on the man's hands, knocking the sword from his grasp and leaving him disarmed but still among the living.
The whole battle, if it deserved to be called such, had taken about ten seconds.
Scrornuck stole a glance at Nalia and Jape. She clearly had the upper hand—the soldiers had yet to land any kind of a blow on her, while she had inflicted minor cuts on both of them. Jape stood safely out of harm's way behind her. This ain't fair, Scrornuck thought. She's the Cast, I'm the Guest, and who do they come after?
He looked again at the soldier to his right, who made no effort to retrieve his sword. Not wanting to kill an unarmed man, he tossed the soldier at the pair attacking Nalia. The three went down in a heap, and stayed down as the tip of Nalia's blade danced around them. She glanced at Scrornuck and chuckled. “Still trying to pick up women in fights?"
He shrugged. “If it works, it works."
Two more soldiers charged Scrornuck. Instead of taking them on directly, he jumped, up and forward, doing a flip in the air and landing directly behind their leader. An instant later, he raised Ol’ Red's blade to the Captain's throat and made an offer of his own: “This is your last chance to go peacefully."
The soldiers had seen enough. They ran like scared rabbits, past Scrornuck and their leader, out of the courtyard, down the passageway and were gone.
Scrornuck put his sword away but kept one hand firmly clamped about his prisoner's neck. “Maybe you'd like to tell us a little bit more about Lord Draggott and why he wants us?"
"Aggh—ack—auggh,” the Captain gurgled in response.
"It's hard to talk when you're being strangled,” Jape said.
"Oh.” Scrornuck loosened his grip a little.
"Two of my best men...” their captive sputtered, squirming to get a good look at Scrornuck's face. “What kind of demon are you?"
"The kind that'll rip your lungs out if I don't like your answers.” He brought Ol’ Red's blade a little closer to his prisoner's throat.
Jape stared into the Captain's eyes. “Tell us about Lord Draggott.” His voice was soft, almost soothing. “Who is he? What's he look like?"
"He is our master,” came the defiant reply. “He wears black—black hood, black cape, black robes, black mask..."
"Of course,” Scrornuck spat, “they always wear black."
"It is the will of Spafu that we defend our sacred way of life,” the Captain said. “Lord Draggott has told us that invaders would come to defile the Temple and overturn the sacred order. We must not let that happen..."
"Who is he to say such things?” Nalia demanded. “A prophet?"
"Lord Draggott is more than a mere prophet. He is the true—"
Scrornuck heard a crunch from above. He spun about, dragging his captive with him, and saw atop the wall a soldier with a dagger in his hand. As Scrornuck shoved Jape, Nalia and the Captain to the ground, the soldier threw his weapon. Scrornuck spun to his right and ducked, and the dagger bounced off his jacket. Then, as the boots sang their song, he leaped upward, landing on the rotted fake-stone at the top of the wall. The soldier reached into his belt for another dagger, Scrornuck threw a punch, and the century-old plastic-and-stucco collapsed under them.
Both men fell. One knew how to land. Scrornuck twisted in the air, getting the boots underneath him to soak up most of the shock of impact. He dropped and rolled and knew he'd be sore tomorrow, but he'd done much better than the knife-thrower, who lay unmoving on the grass, his neck at an impossible angle.
The Captain saw an opportunity and bolted for the passageway. "Shit!" Scrornuck muttered as the sound of footsteps faded away, “bitch got away.” He spent a moment listening for noises in the passage and scanning the roof for any more attacks from above. Seeing and hearing nothing out of the ordinary, he relaxed a little and helped Jape and Nalia to their feet. “I think they're gone—for now, anyway."
Taking the little red prayer book from his sporran, he knelt beside the dead and reci
ted the Prayer of Intercession for Fallen Enemies, following it with a moment of respectful silence.
"Did you really have to whack those guys?” Jape whispered as Scrornuck put the prayer book away. “They don't harm guests here, remember?"
"That's what I thought, too.” Scrornuck took Jape's hand and held it against the warm, sticky wound in his side.
"Hmm.” Jape wiped his fingers on a patch of Scrornuck's kilt—there were so many bloodstains on the garment that one more would hardly be noticed—and reached into a pocket of his cape. “Do you need the first-aid stuff?"
"It's minor. I'll take care of it tonight."
Jape nodded, and with one toe he rolled over the body of the soldier who'd fallen from the roof. “Let's see if we can learn something about who they were.” Still working with his toe, he prodded the helmet off the dead man. “Would you look at that: our friend Pretty Boy."
"Son-of-a-bitch likes to throw knives,” Scrornuck said.
Jape rolled the body back over and looked at Nalia, who'd been staring wide-eyed and white-faced at the three dead soldiers. “Are you all right?"
She continued staring at the bodies. “He killed them."
Jape shrugged. “He protected us; that's what he does. After a while you get used to it."
"Taupeaquaahns don't kill each other."
Scrornuck pointed to the dagger still in Leondo's hand. “This guy was trying."
"Let's see if there's anything left on that altar,” Jape said, pointing to the platform where the violet ball had been. Scrornuck winced at the term. In his dictionary an altar was a place of worship, and he already had a strong feeling that whatever this thing was, it wasn't the least bit divine.
In addition to the aged bones, they found several dried-out, rotted slats of wood on the platform, directly beneath where the violet ball had been. “Bottom of a shipping crate?” Scrornuck suggested.
"Must have included a lot of packing peanuts,” Jape said. The ball had been at most two feet across, but this crate was easily twice that.
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