by Moore, John
“Guess I’ll have to hold it to her lips.” The first guard had the door open. “Well, I’m sure you gentlemen are very busy, so you can just shove off now. Thanks for the tea.”
“Wait,” said the second guard. “Listen.”
All three guards fell silent. And listened. So did Becky.
Up in the ceiling, so did Kevin. From the outside of the Fortress, on one of the battlements, a bell began to toll.
“Midnight,” said the second guard. He grabbed a mug of tea, sloshing half of it on the floor. “My shift. I’ll give her the tea.”
“But I brought the tea,” protested the third guard. “It was my idea.”
The first guard gave a longing look at Becky. “Dammit. No, wait. I’m staying over.”
“You can’t stay over. It’s my shift. I’m responsible for guarding her now. You two run along. You’re not authorized to be here.”
“I’m staying. You came in early, so I get to stay later.”
“What? That doesn’t make any sense!”
The door opened, and another soldier came in. Kevin immediately spotted him as the Captain of the Guard. His boots were polished, his jacket was tailored, his neck scarf was silk, he had bars on his shoulders, and officers’ insignia on his tricornered hat. The three soldiers came to attention. “All right, what’s going on here? What is this, some sort of fan club?”
Kevin had been wondering the same thing himself.
“We’re guarding the prisoner, sir.”
“It doesn’t take three of you to guard one girl. Outside, all of you. You, too, Macomber.”
“I’m on guard now, sir.”
“You’ll stand guard outside the door. She’s not going anywhere, and it will keep your mind off her . . .” Here the Captain sneaked a quick look at Becky’s breasts. “Keep you from being distracted.”
“Yes, sir,” said Macomber, disgruntledly. The two other guards followed him out, with the Captain coming up last, to keep anyone from going back in. The door closed with a solid thud. Kevin pulled back into the shaft, silently counted to one hundred to be certain that the guard wasn’t going to return, then quietly dropped down into the room.
Becky’s eyes widened in surprise, but she was smart enough not to speak loudly. “Kevin!” she whispered. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“I’m glad to see you. Are you all right?”
“Yes, fine. I knew you’d find me. How did you get into the Fortress?”
Kevin was flipping through Valerie’s ring of keys, trying each one as quickly as he could. He paused to show her his breast pocket. “I can go anywhere. I have an ID badge.”
“You’re working for Voltmeter?”
“Shush, not so loud. I told them I was here to clean the ventilation ducts.”
“You’re here in disguise?”
Something in her tone implied criticism. Kevin stopped trying keys. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Well, it’s not very heroic, is it?”
“What!”
“I know that one man can’t assault a castle directly. So I can understand slipping over the wall and maybe slitting a few throats along the way. But walking in through the front door with a false mustache and a phony business card seems to lack daring, don’t you think?”
“It certainly does not. What are you talking about? Heroes assume disguises all the time.”
“As wandering minstrels. They disguise themselves as musicians. Sometimes jugglers. Carrying a broom isn’t very heroic.”
“Really?” said Kevin, who was more than a little stung by her accusation. “There’s nothing heroic about being locked in a dungeon, if you ask me.”
“I was about to escape,” said Becky haughtily. “I was waiting for the right moment to get out of this cage, force open that door, overpower the guard, and make my way to freedom.”
“You’re also chained to the wall.”
Becky turned her head to one side, then the other, examining the chains as though seeing them for the first time. “Okay, I hadn’t quite worked out the details on that part yet.”
“Uh-huh.” Kevin got the cage door open. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and started working on the wrist cuffs. “Are you okay? You should have waited for me.”
“You shouldn’t have gone off without me.”
“How did your blouse get torn? Was it the guards?”
“No, it was that girl.”
Kevin didn’t need to ask who that girl was. “Count yourself lucky. She was about to go after me with a whip.”
“The guards have actually been pretty nice. We’ll need to be careful. They may talk like a bunch of goofballs, but they can fight. I was afraid some of them might try to molest me while I was chained up like this, but their discipline is good.”
Kevin stopped trying keys and gave her a speculative look.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Well, Becky, you do look pretty tempting all bound up and helpless like that.”
“Kevin!”
The Prince gave her wicked grin. “And I’ve got a little time. I’m ahead of schedule. Who knows when an opportunity like this will come along again?”
“You’re not funny.” Becky kicked him lightly on the ankle. “Is there ever a time when boys aren’t thinking about sex?”
“Of course there is.” Kevin started trying keys again. “It’s when we’re—wait a minute—let me think—no. No, there isn’t.”
“Why did I even ask?” The wrist cuff popped open, and Kevin tried the same key on her other arm. It, too, came open. Becky rubbed her wrists for a few seconds, then threw her arms around Kevin and kissed him. “Thank you.” She kissed him again. “Now let’s get out of here.” She looked toward the door. “Can you take the guard?”
“Not so fast,” whispered Kevin. “Taking on the guard will sound the alarm. We still have to get the Ancient Artifact, remember.”
“The Ancient Artifact? You know where it is?”
“Yes,” said Kevin, with just a trace of smugness. “And I’ve arranged for it to be unguarded.”
Becky looked at him with respect. “Okay, maybe I was wrong about using an alias. How do we get to it?”
“Up here.” Kevin led her out of the cage and pointed to the hole in the ceiling. “Through the ventilation ducts.”
“Oh no,” said Becky quickly. “We can’t go through those.”
“Sure we can. I just came in that way.”
“Um, I think they might be booby-trapped.”
“Of course they are. I’ll take care of that.”
The hole in the ceiling seemed very dark and very black. Becky looked at it with dismay, thinking of the results when she last tried crawling through the shafts.
“It’s okay,” said Kevin. “I’ve got a lantern. And I’ve spent all day mapping them out.” He cupped his hands. “Come on. I’ll give you a boost up.”
“I think you should go in first.”
“You’ll have to go in first because you won’t be able to reach without my help.”
“But if I go in first, you’ll be able to look up my dress.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take. Up you go.” He boosted her into the opening, and while she was arranging herself inside the shaft, he went back into the cage and snapped the wrist cuffs shut. He took the keys to the cage and cuffs and searched for a crack in the stone floor, then covered them with dirt and straw. He left the door to the cage open.
“What’s that all about?”
“I’m hoping they’ll think you slipped your wrists through the cuffs. They’ll think they left the door to the cage unlocked after bringing you the tea. They’ll accuse the guard at the door of falling asleep, even if he didn’t. So even if they are looking for you, they might not be looking for an accomplice.”
“Good thinking. It’s sort of convoluted, but it might work.”
“Well, the better plan is to snag the Ancient Artifact and get out of the Fortress before the guard ch
anges shifts. Then it won’t matter what they think.” Kevin jumped and caught the rim of the ventilation shaft opening with the tips of his fingers. He got his hands to either side of the opening and levered himself in. Becky scooted down the shaft a bit to give him room to work, while he carefully replaced the ventilation grille. “And that’s about the best we can do.”
“Here’s your lantern. This is a strange lantern. I’ve never seen one this small.”
“It burns distilled spirits. The flame is small, but it doesn’t leave behind the telltale odor of lamp oil.”
“What’s the tube on the side?”
“Recirculates the smoke to be burned again.”
“Clever.”
“Thanks. Follow right behind me.” He began worming his way down the shaft, with the young princess on his heels. “Watch out for this trip wire here. This whole ventilation system is rigged with trapdoors and snares.”
“Really?” said Becky.
“Although I don’t know who Voltmeter thinks he is fooling, leaving that outside shaft unguarded like that. It is so obviously a trap. A person would have to be three kinds of fool to go in through there. I’ll show it to you after we get out of here. By the way, how did you get caught?”
“It’s very dusty in here. Don’t you think it’s dusty in here? I’ve never seen so much dust. This is certainly a very dusty place.”
“That’s why they needed them cleaned. I got the idea from a team of duct cleaners we had in Rassendas last year. You should consider having your castle done.”
“Yes. Good idea. So Voltmeter thinks you’re from Angst?”
“I haven’t seen him yet. I’ve been concentrating on getting the Artifact back. It was that girl Valerie and a minion called Stan that hired me.”
They were following Kevin’s map, moving through an alternating series of vertical and horizontal ducts, gradually working their way upward. A short time passed before Becky picked up the conversation again.
“Wait. You mean Voltmeter hasn’t seen you at all?”
“No.”
“Does he know what you look like?”
“I shouldn’t think so. Why?”
“Do the other two know who you are?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why are you wearing a fake mustache?”
“Oh this?” Kevin patted his lip. “Well I always wondered how I’d look with a mustache, and this seemed like a good time to try it out.”
“Ah, that explains it. I expected you to have a good reason for wearing a fake mustache. And I was wrong. Anyway, now you know. It looks awful. Don’t grow one.”
“You think so? I kind of like it.”
“I’m not marrying a man with a mustache. They’re wet. They get soup and beer and stuff in them.”
“No they don’t. There are special mugs for straining that stuff out.”
“Would you marry a woman with a mustache?”
“Well, no but that’s not . . .”
“See, there you go. Fair’s fair.” They eased around another corner, and she watched Kevin make a mark on the wall. “What is that?”
“Luminous chalk. For marking a trail in the dark.”
Luminous chalk? Becky pondered on this while they ascended another vertical shaft. “Kevin, have you been holding back on me?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Keeping secrets about yourself. Tiny spirit lamps, luminous chalk, false mustaches, stolen key rings—is there something you’re not telling me? You didn’t have time to buy any of this. You must have brought it with you. Why did you come to Deserae equipped like a thief?”
“We always carry special equipment with us.”
“We?”
The darkness hid Kevin’s look of embarrassment. “The Corps. You see, in the diplomatic line of work, sometimes you need to read stuff that wasn’t meant for you to read. Stuff that might be kept locked up.”
“Kevin! You’ve been spying?”
“Not spying. Diplomatic intelligence.”
“You haven’t been reading Deserae’s secret communiqués, have you?”
“Uh, maybe. Sometimes. Just a few.”
“Kevin, that’s terrible.”
“It’s just part of the job. Everyone does it. Maybe once in a while I pop open a desk. Deserae does the same thing to us. It’s expected.”
“It is not. We’re talking about highly classified documents of vital importance to our national security. You’re not supposed to steal them and read them. It’s illegal, immoral, and highly dishonorable. You should do like everyone else and wait until they’re leaked to the press.”
“Shssh,” whispered Kevin. He uncovered his lantern, consulted his map, then covered the lantern again. “We’re getting close.” He stood up inside another vertical shaft, wormed his way to the next level, entered a horizontal shaft, and waited for Becky to catch up with him. “If my calculations are right, there should be a grille right here.”
There was. The shaft dead-ended at a grille, set vertically into the wall. The black of the iron bars wove a pattern against the dark gray of the room beyond. Kevin lowered his voice to the barest whisper. “Let’s be very quiet. This room has a high ceiling. I was in here today. The ventilation grille is above the door, and there will be guards outside the door. It’s a pretty thick door, but we don’t want to take chances.”
“Right,” Becky whispered back.
She helped him slide the grille off its hooks and gently lean it against the side of the shaft. Once again Kevin handed her the dark lantern. “I’ll go out first.”
She nodded, although he couldn’t see her in the darkness.
He slipped out the opening feetfirst, gently probing with one toe for the door lintel. When he found it he balanced momentarily on his toes, bent his knees slightly, then dropped to the floor, almost without a sound. Becky handed down the lantern and followed the same way, except that Kevin caught her by the waist as she jumped. For a long minute they clung together, silently listening.
There was nothing to hear. The room was empty of people. No sound penetrated the door. Large windows were set high on the walls. Between the scudding clouds enough moonlight came through that Becky could see the shadows of high shelves, and stacks of equipment were dimly outlined. Kevin unwrapped a long strip of black cloth from around his waist. He handed one end to her. “We’ll tuck this under the door so light won’t shine through.”
“Right.”
They stuffed the cloth strip into the crack beneath the door, up the sides, and over the top, with Kevin using his knife to press it into place. Becky remained kneeling by the door. “Do you know where the Ancient Artifact is kept?”
“Yes. It was over there. It’s being kept in a strongbox, but the alchemist said he’d think of an excuse to leave it out tonight.”
Becky looked where Kevin was pointing. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, but still she saw only dim, vague shapes. “I think you better uncover the light,” she whispered. “We don’t want to stumble into something and make noise.”
“Right. I’ll just do a quick flash to orient us.”
He uncovered the lantern, swung it in a quick circle, just long enough to reveal shelves piled high with goods, and instantly covered it again. Then Becky heard him swear under his breath. The Prince stood up, uncovered the lantern, and held it over his head so it lit up the room, revealing shelf after shelf loaded with tee shirts, coffee mugs, and commemorative plates. They were in the gift shop.
“He’s out there, Stan.”
“Who, my lord?”
“Logan, of course. It’s only a matter of days now. Perhaps hours.” Voltmeter was looking out the window again. The moon was rising against the mountains, and he stared into the pale light, searching for the silhouettes of moving dark figures on the rocky crests.
“You seem very sure.”
“Of course I’m sure. I’ve been waiting for him, you know. He knows we stole an Ancient Artifact. He’ll gu
ess that we intend to power up a Diabolical Device. They’ve already tried to take it back by stealth. Now they’ll try by force of arms. And, of course, he’ll try to confront us here. Here in the mountains. He’ll try to prevent us getting the Diabolical Device near a population center.”
Stan tried to clear his head. Partly he was tired. It was late, way past his normal bedtime, and Voltmeter did not seem ready to retire anytime soon. Partly it was the feeling of lethargy that Voltmeter could induce in anyone nearby. “I meant that you seem very sure that it will be Lord Logan and not some other general.”
“It will be Logan. He was there at the capital, wooing the King’s daughter. He had a force of men with him. He’s capable and experienced. King Calephon would be a fool not to use him, and Logan himself would never turn down a challenge like this.”
“True, my lord.”
Voltmeter returned to his desk and picked up an invoice. “What is this, Stan?”
“Ventilation duct cleaning, my lord.”
“We’ve brought someone in to clean the ventilation ducts?”
“They needed to be done, sire. You know how allergic you are to dust mites. He showed up at the gate this morning, my lord, and we decided to accept his offer.”
Voltmeter studied the invoice. “Ventilation duct cleaners. In my day, Stan, we had chimney sweeps. Now they call themselves ventilation duct cleaners and charge four times the price.”
“He offered us a good deal, my lord. He threw in three rooms of upholstery cleaning if we did the ducts for the whole fortress.”
“Well, can’t beat that, I suppose. Did you hire him yourself?”
“No, sire. Valerie hired him.”
“Was this man a local?”
“Yes, sire. From Angst.”
“From Angst,” Voltmeter repeated. He studied the invoice. “Amazing that anyone from Angst would dare to come up here, after the way we’ve treated them.”
“Perhaps he just moved into town, sire, and is not aware of the way we do things.”
“Perhaps. Was this an old man, Stan?”
“No sire. A rather young man.”
“Tall? Good-looking?”
“Um, I would say yes.”
“Hmmm.” Voltmeter drew back his cloak to reveal his sword. He drummed his fingers on the hilt while he reflected. “Stan, go wake Valerie up.”