by Robert Evert
Edmund nodded to Becky as he reached for the doorknob, a warped image of his hand appearing in its shiny brass.
Easy. Go nice and slow. Don’t make a sound.
The doorknob became slippery with sweat under Edmund’s tightening palm.
He turned it ever so slightly.
It wasn’t locked.
He pictured the layout of the room: three beds along the wall to the left, a large rosewood armoire to the right, a sofa in the center facing the door, and a small wooden table with two chairs by the window against the far wall.
Throw the door open. Make sure nobody’s waiting behind it. Remember, you aren’t alone. You have Becky with you.
Although little more than a year old, Becky was getting to be a big dog; Edmund could pet her head without bending over. Plus, she had a wolfish look about her; but it was the possessed glint in her manic grey eyes that made people uneasy.
Becky sniffed under the door then withdrew a step, lips twitching back to reveal her canines. Snarling silently, she stared with anticipation at the knob in Edmund’s clammy hand.
Ready?
Edmund threw open the door, ducked, and darted inside the room, keeping his back to the wall. Becky raced in, making a beeline for the sofa before skidding to a stop.
The room was dark.
Beyond the drapes drawn across the open window came the sounds of the bustling city and the roaring river. Dim lantern light trickled in from the hallway and fell across the feet of two people sitting calmly on the sofa. Growling lowly, Becky bristled at one of them.
“Where the hell have you been?” Edith said, snarling as much as Becky. “This isn’t a game, Edmund!”
Next to her sat an ashen-faced Pond, slumped over. Edmund took a step toward them, but deep shadows prevented him from seeing if Pond was still breathing.
“Let him go,” he demanded. “He hasn’t done anything to you!”
“Come in and close the door. We need to talk.”
“I can hear you j-just, just fine from here,” Edmund replied from the other side of the room.
Edith produced a curved knife from her sleeve and placed its tip against Pond’s throat. Pond didn’t move.
“Close the door or he dies,” she said.
“If you harm him”—Edmund tried to control his quaking voice—“I won’t help you. Ever. You need me. You, you said so yourself!”
Edith gnashed her teeth.
Not wanting to be trapped or struck from behind, Edmund inched backward and listened at the hallway, but all he heard were city sounds and the unceasing river from outside.
“Let him go—now!”
“Have you deciphered the runes I gave you?” Edith asked, the tip of her knife still poised at Pond’s neck.
Don’t lie, but don’t tell her the truth.
“To b-be … to be honest,” Edmund said, scanning the rest of the room, “I haven’t looked at them much. I’ve been preoccupied with the situation in Rood. I need to deal with that first.”
Edith shook with ill-disguised anger. “I need that document deciphered!”
“Then do it yourself!”
Raucous laughter from the patio outside floated up through the open window. Somebody applauded.
“If I could do it,” she said though clenched jaws, “we wouldn’t need you, now would we?”
Make her need you more.
“I’ll do it,” he said. An eagerness ignited behind her narrowing eyes. “But I’ll n-n-need … I’ll need time. I’ll get to it as soon as I return from Rood.”
“Fine. Until then, your friend will be our guest.”
Crumpled on the sofa, Pond still wasn’t moving.
“Release him now or I’ll never help you decipher your stupid document. You have my word on that!”
Good. Make her think you don’t know what this is all about.
Edith sneered at Edmund through the darkness, her breath coming in a hiss. “Never is a long time, Edmund. If you aren’t careful, you’ll find out what an eternity of misery feels like.”
The fingers of her free hand moved slightly. The still air around them glittered blue.
“You have no idea who you’re dealing with,” she said.
With a twist of her glowing fingers, the door behind Edmund slammed shut, plunging the room into impenetrable blackness. The lock clicked, barring his escape.
Somewhere out in front of him, Becky’s snarling intensified.
Quick! Get that door open! You can’t see a blasted thing! Get it open!
Fumbling for it, he cast his enlargement spell.
“Forstørre nå!”
The door shivered then burst outward as it enlarged, showering the hallway with a deluge of stone dust and wooden slivers.
Streams of dim yellow light returned.
Edith and Pond still sat on the sofa, unmoved.
“Very impressive,” she said in disgust. “But we know that’s all you can do. That, and make food and a little fire.” Edith laughed. Then a mutually beneficial notion seemed to occur to her. “You know, we could change that, Edmund. We could teach you spells you’ve never imagined. Real spells. Spells of power! You could be a magic user to be feared!”
“Let him go.” Edmund pointed his sword at her. “Let him go or, or I’ll never help you. I’d rather die!”
“Die?” she repeated, perplexed. “Death doesn’t have to come—not for you, or me, or for any of us magic users. Death is for the lesser humans, not us.”
Edith’s expression lightened at his puzzlement.
“You don’t know what’s happening, do you?” she said, savoring some sort of delicious irony. “You don’t know what this is all about.”
Edmund leaned forward, trying to check behind the sofa for any of Edith’s friends, but he couldn’t see much without entering the room farther.
“For some, an eternity can be a blessing,” she went on. “Pursuing all of life’s mysteries and splendors! It could be that way for you if you help us.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A new age is coming, Edmund. The prophecies of old are coming to fruition. Secrets are about to be revealed—ancient secrets.” Her face grew more passionate; the shadows around her seemed to vibrate. “And you can help us uncover them. You can help us solve the greatest riddle of them all—how to master death itself!”
She’s nuts!
Don’t get distracted by what she says. Worry about Pond.
Edith gave Pond’s body a sidelong glance.
“But if you choose not to help us …” Her demeanor turned icy. “We will make you and your friends beg for a death that will never come.”
Becky crept forward.
“Stop your beast!” she shouted. “Stop her now or he dies!”
Becky halted.
“I’m going to ask you this one more time …” Edmund’s trembling sword blade glinted in the faint light.
Becky stopped growling. Her head swung to the right.
Something in the armoire moved.
“I know you aren’t alone!” Edmund cried as Becky sprang to the armoire, barking with such ferocity that it startled even him. “Tell your friends to come out of their hiding spot if you ever want me to decipher your precious document! I mean it!”
Suddenly Becky fell silent. Crouched in front of the armoire and pulsating with fury, she practically foamed at the mouth as she barked and snarled and leapt … all in utter silence.
“Edmund,” Edith said politely. “This is all just a grave misunderstanding. We can help you. We could give you everything your heart has ever desired. Everything! All you have to do is help us.”
The wonderfully familiar scent of Lily of the Valley caressed Edmund’s nostrils.
He backed out over the remains of the shattered door and peeked around the corner. Abby stood in the hallway pressed up against the wall, dagger clutched in both hands, so close that Edmund could lean forward and kiss her.
Abby placed a finger to her lips.
<
br /> “And tell your fat imbecilic friend to go away,” Edith said. “This is just between the two of us. I’m sure you don’t want to see any more people get hurt.”
Looking up to where he imagined Fatty Moron’s face would be, Edmund said, “Go downstairs, Big Guy. Go downstairs like I told you. I’ll be fine. Yes, we’ll get some more food. Just go, now. And stay downstairs!”
He made fleeting eye contact with Abby, whose expression turned to an angry pout.
“Fatty, I said go! Do like I told you. Or else!”
Abby stomped her foot and retreated reluctantly down the hallway. Upon reaching the stairwell, she stopped.
“Go!” Edmund shouted.
Throwing her hands up, she stomped again.
Edmund watched her disappear around the corner.
If she gets hurt …
Edith laughed.
“Honestly, I don’t see why you’ve taken him in tow.”
“He’s a friend. And he needs help.”
“We could be your friends, Edmund. We can give you things you have only dreamed about—wealth, power, knowledge. All you have to do is help us. Decipher the document I gave you. That’s all I ask!”
Convince her that you have no clue what those pages say. If she starts to suspect you already know the formula to Iliandor’s secret metal …
“What’s this all about?” Edmund asked. “Why are those p-p-page, pages so important?”
“Just decipher them. If you manage it, we’ll reward you more than your wildest dreams. You can become Lord of the Highlands and have your precious Molly as your lovely wife. You can have access to all the libraries of the world, ancient libraries of untold secrets—”
“I just want you to leave me the hell alone! Why don’t you do it yourselves?”
“Because, Edmund”—her gentle tone sounded forced—“we need your gift for languages and your ability to remember everything you see. You can do things we can’t.”
“Perhaps you’re just stupid,” said Edmund.
Edith’s fake smile slipped. Her eyes seethed again as she pressed her knife harder against Pond’s throat. Becky leapt and barked silently at the armoire door, claws ripping into its fine rosewood. Adjusting her grip, Edith appeared ready to plunge her knife into Pond’s chest.
“I’m … I’m sorry,” Edmund said, hoping to defuse the building tension. “I’ll try to decipher what you gave me, after we get back from Rood. But I don’t w-w-want … I don’t want anything in return; I just want to be left alone. Pond has to come with me, though. I can’t get to Rood without him.”
Edith relaxed.
“Now cancel the spells on him and Becky,” he said, “and get out of our room.”
“Very well.” She lowered her knife.
Getting to her feet, Edith shoved Pond off the sofa. He toppled forward, smacking his forehead hard against the floor. He groaned and rubbed his face.
“You okay?” Edmund asked him from the ruined doorway.
Pond’s head wobbled. He sat up with some effort.
“He’ll be fine,” Edith said, “for the moment. Now retrieve your rotten animal.”
Still clawing at the armoire, Becky chomped noiselessly on air.
Edmund slapped his thigh. “Becky. Come.”
She did, though not taking her eyes off of the armoire.
“Are you okay, Pond?” Edmund said again.
In front of the sofa Pond struggled to his knees, moaning. “Yeah. She’s … she’s not alone.”
Edmund brandished his sword toward the armoire. “Tell them to come out, or I’ll never help you decipher those passages!”
Before Edith could respond, the armoire door creaked open. Eyes of a child peered out into the dimness beyond it. Then the door opened a bit wider, and Edmund soon realized that inside stood no child.
“You?”
Stepping out of the armoire, Lester, King Lionel’s jester, spread his hands wide and said, “Ta-da!”
Becky inched toward him, her guttural growls returning. The dwarf quickly cowered back into the darkness of the armoire.
“You?” Edmund shouted, remembering well how the tiny man had taunted him when he’d brought the Star of Iliandor to the king in Eryn Mas.
“Yes, him,” Edith said. “You see, Edmund, we have powerful people spread throughout the lands. You could be one of them. You could be our chief scholar and advisor, if you help us.”
“Powerful?” Edmund scoffed. “He’s a jester!”
“Don’t mock me!” the dwarf shouted through a gash Becky had ripped into the armoire door. “I run the kingdom! The king is as easy to control as your mountainous friend. They’re both imbeciles. I’m the true king! I run everything!”
Edmund snorted a laugh.
Through the hole, the dwarf’s eyes twinkled pale blue, and for an instant, Edmund was about to tell the dwarf anything he wanted to know.
Breathing hard, Edmund pried his gaze away.
“You see, Edmund …” Edith’s voice wavered in his head. “You can never judge a book by its cover. You should know that. Now, remove your beast and we’ll be on our way.”
Sword pointed at Edith, Edmund edged deeper into the room and helped Pond to his feet. Pond clung to his shoulder. Becky positioned herself between Edmund and Edith, appearing much larger than Edmund had remembered her being.
“Look what you’ve surrounded yourself with,” Edith said, appalled. “We could do more for you. Protect you and make you strong!”
“I’m f-f-fine the way I am,” he said, holding Pond. “Now get out of here!”
The armoire door opened wider.
“I’m f-f-fine the way I am,” the dwarf mimicked, stepping out. He eyed Becky from a distance. “I liked the other dog better.”
Becky lowered her head and crept toward the stunted man.
The dwarf halted.
“Becky,” Edmund said, still holding Pond up. “Stay.”
She stayed.
“Thorax, was it?” Lester chuckled bitterly. “Brilliant name for a dog. Brilliant! I’m surprised this one isn’t named something like spleen or coccyx!”
People approached, their quick strides echoing down the hallway.
Edith stalked toward Edmund, heedless of the sword he placed against her chest.
“I’ll give you three months. If you don’t decipher the pages I gave you by then, I’ll make you wish you were back with Kar-Nazar.”
Edmund withdrew, his sword arm shaking with anger and fear, when three furious men appeared in the doorway. One was the innkeeper. Two others were guards. All three had weapons drawn.
“What’s all the commotion up here?” the innkeeper demanded. “And what the hell happened to my door?”
Lester staggered out in front of them. He fell to the floor then bounced up comically. He wheeled around the three men, doing an absurd waltz. Their weapons lowered.
“Everything is fine,” Lester said calmly as he dipped and whirled. “Now go away, you stupid idiots.”
Eyes strangely vacant, the three men turned and strolled back down the hallway, chuckling.
Righting himself, Lester smoothed his vest.
“Don’t underestimate what I can do,” he said to Edmund.
Edith and Lester strode to the hallway, stepping over stone chunks and wooden fragments strewn across the floor.
“You have three months,” she said. “Or else.”
Lester jabbed a finger at Edmund. “And if I ever see that mutt of yours again—”
Becky growled.
“Okay! Okay!” Lester raised his hands in surrender. He backed out of the room, muttering, “Damned dog.”
Edith stopped, evidently remembering something of importance.
“Oh, by the way,” she said casually. “I understand you have Iliandor’s diary—the original, not a copy. Where is it? I’d like to buy it from you.”
Struggling under Pond’s weight, Edmund grunted. “It was destroyed. When the goblins destroyed Rood, they burn
t down my library.”
For a lengthy moment, Edith studied Edmund suspiciously.
“Shame,” she said and stepped out into the hallway. “Three months,” she called over her shoulder. “And remember, we can find you no matter where you try to hide.”
Heart pounding, Edmund watched them disappear into the stairwell. He wanted to shout something back, something angry and defiant, but he was too unnerved by Edith’s threats.
Pond stirred. He leaned on Edmund’s shoulder and said, “There were three of them.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Edmund lowered Pond onto the sofa in Abby’s room. “Becky, guard the door!”
Becky scurried off.
“What happened?” Abby brought Pond a glass of water. “Is he okay? I saw that Edith woman storm out of the inn with that tiny man. Is he a magic—?”
“You didn’t do what I told you!” Edmund shouted at her.
“I thought I could—”
“Listen, if you want to adventure with us, you do as you’re told. Do you understand?”
Abby put her hands on her hips.
“And d-don’t go thinking that it’s because you’re a woman!” he shouted louder. “I need to know that you’ll do what I ask. I need to know that everything’s in place. I was counting on help arriving. Lots of help. Not just a girl with a dagger.”
Abby opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.
“You put us all in danger,” Edmund interrupted. “If you want to join us, I have to be able to trust you. Do you understand?”
She clenched her teeth. “Yes.”
Edmund exhaled and shook his head. “Look, Abby, I … I … I want you to be with us. Believe me, I hated that we left you behind in Dardenello, honestly!”
Don’t tell her that you like her. Don’t!
“But I need to know you’ll follow the plan. You just left Fatty sleeping here alone. And you didn’t get the help I needed. Do you understand how important it is that you do what I ask? Our lives are at stake. I was counting on you, and you let me down.”
Fatty turned over in his sleep, the bedframe creaking under his colossal weight.
“Plus, I don’t want Edith to see you,” Edmund added reluctantly. “If she knows who you are, she might do something to you to get to me. Do you see what I’m trying to tell you?”