Each time Petronio felt he understood, Fenestra would leave him far behind. What was a backup? What lay behind the plan?
“And a computer is also what you are lying inside. Think of it as a machine with thoughts.”
“Logical thoughts,” interrupted a smooth, masculine voice.
Petronio nearly jumped out of bed. “Who the holly was that?”
“Only the onboard program,” replied Fenestra. “Tell me, George, what is our escape trajectory?”
There was no pause as the voice answered. “All systems up and running within twenty-three seconds. Vertical ascent of three hundred meters will be achieved at fifty-four seconds. We shall then accelerate due west at a cruising speed of one thousand three hundred kilometers per hour, reaching the port of New Walk in five-point-six hours. Have a nice day.”
“Thank you. Perimeter scan still clear?”
“There are no foreign elements within two hundred meters.”
“Good,” said Fenestra, still talking to thin air.
Petronio eyeballed the room. A voice without a body? Totally conkers! “How does it work?”
“Oh really, young Grasp. I am a politician, not a quantum engineer. Probably wave modulation using synthesized speech built into binary consciousness programming. The Dendrans are backward. To even call this a developing country would be an overstatement.”
And that’s what Petronio felt. More than out of the vine loop. It was like being back at school on his first day, with the older kids laughing because he didn’t know where to hang up his cloak. In this room of clean lines, he felt sweaty and awkward.
Fenestra paused. “That sounded harsh. I am sorry. There are those among you who are eager to learn, yes?”
“Yes.” She had taken him under her wing. It wasn’t a bad place to be.
“That’s settled, then. I have not forgotten that you once saved my life. Now I have repaid the favor. That makes us equals. In the coming times, you shall be of use to me, I have no doubt. But don’t worry, I will never again treat you as a mere messenger.”
Petronio soaked up the compliment and for a brief moment the pain in his chest subsided.
“Oh, your father has been informed of your ‘accident’ and that you are currently in my care.”
“He won’t like that. Wants to … keep me under his eye.”
“Yes, I can see how hard he is on you. I have my own teenage girl. There is an art to looking after them that is lacking in the Councillor. But trust me, he will not argue with his future employer. You need to stay here and recuperate. If the wound heals well, I might be able to convince one of my men to show you the basics of marksmanship. Pulling the trigger of a g-gun is not as easy as it looks. Would you like that?” There was a glint in her eye, filled with temptation.
“I …” Petronio felt that he was stepping off the edge of the woodway with a vast drop below.
“If my daughter, Randall, were here, she’d turn you into a sharpshooter within days. But my men are more than up to the task. After you have rested further, you can start. What do you say?”
The nighttime sick bay no longer felt strange. Here was a feast of words, machines, and power, and he, Petronio, had been asked to sit at the top table. At that moment, he would have happily put his prize crossbow on the fire for kindling. The message was clear. She’d saved him for a reason. Those who could learn would profit. How did the old carpenter’s saying go? If you can’t nail ’em, join ’em.
“Yes,” said Petronio. He was back in the game.
34• ESCAPE AND BETRAYAL
Mucum was annoyed with Flo. Admittedly, the pie was tasty, the folded map of the Grasp residence wrapped around it quite useful. The hidden knife was also sharp enough to do the business. But the note she’d left only told him to escape the dungeon and meet her on the woodway as the sun rose.
“Wot am I supposed to do?” Perhaps the Rootshooters were a few roasted chestnuts short of a bagful after all.
“You could vanish!” said Shiv. “Like magic!”
“Yeah, we could do wiv some magic.” Mucum’s eyes went wide. “Hang on a sec, young lady.” He scratched his head, hoping that the plan forming in his brain was worthy of his dead best mate. It was a matter of honor. As for vanishing, well, most cardsharps he met were masters not of magic but deception. “Any good at screaming, little Shiv?”
“Oh yes. I love making a big noisy!” She nodded, her curls tumbling over her shining brown cheeks.
“Good on yer. Think of it like a game. Do yer want to play?”
Shiv bounced up and down on the spot and clapped her hands. “Yes, please!”
“All right. Be ready to give us yer best scream, eh?” He then explained how it would work.
Shiv nodded again. Her beaming smile was thoroughly impish.
“Oakey-doakey! Let’s do it!” The cell narrowed toward the single door, leaving a space about four feet wide above the door where the walls closed in. Mucum leaned against one of the walls and lifted his right leg up, planting his foot firmly on the opposite wall. He tensed his leg muscles, hoping they could take the weight as he lifted up his right leg and planted his rubber-soled shoe firmly on the other side. Good. The wall was rough, gripping his sheepskin cote and preventing him from sliding back down. An inch at a time he crabbed his way upward until his bent body was balanced directly over the door frame. By now, his armpits and his back were damp with sweat and he could already feel the ache in his thighs.
“About now would be good, Shiv.”
“Now, what?” said Shiv, looking both evil and innocent.
“Oh, Diana help us. Now … please!” he said through gritted teeth.
“Oh goody!” said Shiv, opening her mouth impossibly wide and emitting a shriek that should have had Dendran mothers running to her aid from a ten-mile radius. There was a moment’s silence followed by the clump of boots.
“Remember your words!” whispered Mucum, feeling his body start to go numb.
The door grate slid open, revealing a single staring eye behind it. “Wot you screamin about, you little brat? Better be good, ‘cos you interrupted my kip!”
“He’s gone!” wailed Shiv with a convincing touch of terror in her voice.
Hidden above the door, Mucum smiled. Ark’s sister was a born actress.
“Gone? Who … where?” Alnus was taking a while to catch up.
“He was poorly and got thinner and thinner and thinner.” She paused for effect, then began wailing again.
Alnus slammed his hand against the door. What was it with children? “Can yer spell it out in simple Dendran?”
“Course I can!” Shiv sang. “He got so thin, he vanished. Just like that!” She threw up her arms to indicate the empty cell.
The single eye went wide as it roved around the empty space. Alnus got the message and did not like its contents. “Oh, that’s not good, that is. I’m in trouble now!” The key grated in the lock, and the door swung open. “Sure he’s not under the bed?”
Mucum wasn’t. There was no room and Alnus knew it. What he didn’t know was that the prisoner was about a foot above him, trying very hard not to breathe. A drop of sweat fell from his forehead and landed on the guard’s tunic. Instinctively, Alnus moved his hand up to his shoulder to feel the patch of wet.
Don’t look up! was the only thought in Mucum’s head. That, and hoping his legs wouldn’t unclamp themselves. If he fell, it would be straight into the welcoming arms of his jailor.
“Damp in ’ere” was the guard’s only comment as he peered around the cell, trying to figure out what the holly was going on. “You say ‘e got thinner. That don’t make no sense!”
As the guard stalked toward the window to see if the lad had somehow wriggled through the bars, Shiv was already backing toward the wide-open door.
It was time for Mucum to make his move. If he could only slide silently to the floor and slip out of the cell, they’d be free. The plan had a few problems. With such a tiny room, any sound was ampli
fied. Even as Mucum slowly lowered himself, a plank behind his back did what all planks do best. It creaked.
Alnus spun around, a look of genuine surprise plastered on his face. “Where’d you come from?” he sputtered. But the guard wasn’t about to wait for the answer. He’d already pulled out his stiletto from its sheath and was advancing toward Mucum.
“Calm down, mate. I was jes’ practicin’ me climbin’ skills. No ‘arm done, eh?” Mucum retreated, Shiv cowering behind his knees.
“Thought you’d fool me? You’re like all the others. Let’s play a joke on Alnus, they say. He’s always good for a laugh!” The look on the guard’s face indicated that there were no fun and games to be had at this particular moment. “Well, I’m gonna make your disappearing act permanent!” Both blade and man leapt through the air, aiming for Mucum’s chest, hoping for bloody impact.
Mucum saw the knife flying toward him. He wondered if he had time to pull out Flo’s thoughtful gift, currently tucked into the inside flap of his cote. By the time he reached the blade, he’d be dead. Far better to play this the old-fashioned way. He’d been involved in some good fights with the local lads in his time, and the rule of the wood was simple: There were no rules, only survival.
At the last second, as the sharp blade was inches from his rib cage, Mucum leaned back on his left foot and stepped out of the way.
Alnus didn’t have time to be surprised as his stiletto stabbed empty air. He was more than surprised, though, when he felt a very well-aimed kick connect between his legs and crush a particularly sensitive part of his anatomy. “Eeeeek!” he screeched in a ridiculously high-pitched voice as the knife tumbled from his hand and clattered onto the floor. It was shortly joined by a body as Alnus collapsed, both hands clutching himself and trying to contain the utter agony that quickly sent him toward unconsciousness.
“Don’t be such a wimp!” snarled Mucum, standing over his victim. “My friend was far braver than you’ll ever be!”
Shiv ran around and around the knocked-out guard, chanting, “Hit him in the hazelnuts, hazelnuts, hazelnuts, hit him in the hazelnuts, we all fall down!”
“What sorta nursery rhymes are they teachin’ you kids these days?” Mucum grabbed her by the hand. “Come on, little Malikum, time to get you home. I need to visit a few old pals and deal with some squit!” Before leaving the cell, he bent over Alnus and took the keys from his belt, his fingers fumbling.
“Ow, me bits!” moaned Alnus as his eyelids fluttered.
“We will be in bits if I let you get up, matey!” Mucum delivered a good old crunching uppercut with his right fist. Alnus’s head snapped back and almost bounced off the floor. Mucum paused for a second, listening for trouble. “Sleep well!” he said before heaving the guard’s unconscious body onto the excuse for a bed and covering it with a blanket. It might buy them some time. Then he took Shiv by the hand and made for the doorway. He peered out nervously. All clear.
“Let’s go!” Mucum said. “This way!” He pulled the dungeon door shut and locked it before turning right and hoping that the map of the building was accurate. If it was, then a certain plumbing trapdoor was going to make the perfect hidden exit.
Ten minutes later, they were out and well beyond the house, waiting at the crossroads, thick morning mist hovering just above their ankles. Mucum couldn’t believe he’d done it. Maybe, with Flo’s help, he’d get to the King after all.
Flo stepped out from behind a laurel bush. “Oi’m glad yow be safe,” she whispered.
“Search parties gonna be on their way. We gotta make a move.”
“Yas!” Flo seemed in an odd mood. She didn’t come forward to embrace Mucum and her voice was uncertain.
Mucum was puzzled. Where was the kiss she promised?
“Let me take the girl and look after her, for now.” She put her hands out to Shiv, who happily skipped across the woodway.
“Are we off on a nadventure?”
“Yas. Oi think so.” Flo then pulled a blade out of her shift and advanced toward Mucum.
“Wot you doin’?” Mucum was shocked.
“It’s for yowr own good, moi boyo!”
“Drop it, Flo. Ain’t got time for muckin’ about!”
Flo moved with surprising speed, her long legs closing the gap between them. Before he could even put his hands up in defense, she had slashed at his right arm, slicing the skin open.
“Are you an acorn nutter?” Mucum clutched his arm, watching in horror as the blood dripped down and all his faith in the Rootshooters leaked away with it. “Why help me escape and then sell me out?”
Shiv was crying, trying to run from Flo, who held the little girl tight.
Before Flo could answer, she felt a sudden breeze from above.
“Oh no!” Mucum cried, as a raven plunged out of the dew-drenched fog straight toward him. “How could you do this?”
“Oi be sorry!” shouted Flo above the noise of beating wings. “Oi had no choice!” she cried as the bird, drawn by the incense of blood, veered in toward its target.
35• AN OLD FRIEND
When Ark first heard the voice, he thought he was dreaming. “Geroff me, you weirdo!”
He sat up in his bed, suddenly awake after a long, deep sleep. He knew that grumbling moan from anywhere. Surely he’d imagined it?
But at that moment, the door to his bedroom slammed open. “Don’t wanna go in no more dungeons, lady. I’ve ‘ad enough prisons to last me a lifetime, right … Hey!” A bulky figure was shoved inside none too gracefully.
“You read the wood as if all is against you. Use your eyes to see the truth!” Corwenna snapped.
Mucum looked up. “Ark! Is that you, old bud? You’re supposed to be dead, or am I dreamin’ ’ere?”
“No. You’re awake. I think.” A smile burst like a blossom over his face. The last time he’d seen Mucum, he was fighting for his life in the pouring rain in another country.
“Fair doo-doos!” said Mucum. “I fort the ravens ‘ad you. Yer gettin’ pretty good at dodgin’ death, mate. I’m impressed. Now, can yer tell me ’oo’s the crazy hazel-switch with the funny hairdo?” He motioned behind him with his thumb.
“Mucum, meet my m —” But Ark couldn’t say it. Not yet. “Meet Corwenna, Queen of the Ravenwood.”
The words stopped Mucum in his tracks. “Yer jokin’, mate. This bag of wrinkles? I gave up believin’ in all that oakey-croakey stuff years ago.”
“Did you?” she asked, a hint of danger in her voice. She drew herself up until she suddenly towered over Mucum. Her dark skin shone like coal and her eyes were blinding in their intensity. “I am Corwenna,” the voice boomed, carrying within it thunder and lightning, the decay of winter and the urge of spring. “All that is visible and hidden in these woods belongs to me!”
Mucum was convinced. “Oh my giddy tree goats!” He fell to his knees. “Forgive me insults!” He was trembling all over.
Corwenna softened, her figure shrinking to almost Dendran size again. “Oh, do get up! This shuffling around on knees is only for the dullest of pilgrims.”
“Righty-ho.” Mucum stood up and edged back toward the door. “I’m not dreamin’ you or nuffin’?” For someone who didn’t believe in all that mumbo jumbo, meeting a bona fide deity was a shock.
“I am as real as the wood you stand on.”
“Yeah. Well …” His brain couldn’t take it all in.
Ark jumped in. “But what happened with Petronio?”
“I was about to sort him out once and for all when one of Grasp’s guards crept up behind me with a sword. After that, it was the dungeons. I escaped and then it all went wonky. Me girlfriend tried to cut me in half, and I got stuck in a cage of claws and nearly froze me bits off while a big birdie took me on a little trip over the mountains. And now I find you hangin’ out with a … a goddess! It’s been a holly of a ride!” He looked around the room with its fine furnishings. It might not be a prison, but he still wasn’t sure what this place was.
; “I hope you will forgive your Rootshooter friend,” said Corwenna. “It was a necessary deception to bring you here.”
“She weren’t sellin’ me down the woodway, then?”
“No. What I asked of her was difficult. Your religion preaches forgiveness. I hope you might consider it in her case.”
Mucum’s despair slowly lifted like a dawn mist. “She still likes me, then?”
“I hope you’re only pretending to be stupid! Of course she does. Liking is the least of it. I have known and admired the Rootshooters since — well, we have no time for that now.”
Mucum couldn’t get over the living, breathing Ark. “Buddy ‘eck, I fort you was dead wood!”
“Takes more than an apprentice surgeon to finish me off!”
“Yeah. We’ll save ’im up for later.” It was a promise.
All this time they’d been gabbling and Ark hadn’t been able to ask about the most important person of all. “Shiv? You found her in the dungeons? Is she all right?”
“Sorry, mate, shoulda told yer first thing. We both escaped. Now that I know Flo ain’t a total traitor, I reckon yer little sis is in good hands.”
Ark felt hope spring up like sap. “Thank the trees!”
“And she’s got a decent pair of lungs on ’er. You should’ve heard ’er scream to get the guard’s attention. It’s thanks to Shiv we got out in the first place.”
“That’s my girl!” Ark grinned. “But you think she’ll be all right?”
“Yup. Them Rootshooters gonna be all over her. She’ll be in hugs heaven!”
Corwenna backed toward the door. “You two catch up. There isn’t much time. You’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
“I only jes’ got ’ere!” Mucum groaned.
Ark smiled. If his friend was complaining, all was well. Then Corwenna’s words hit him. “Leaving? Where?”
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