As if Sir Delacar had been responding to my thoughts, I ran into him right at the door of the kitchen. He grabbed me by both shoulders. “I heard—” But before he could make any queries (or worse, accusations), I freed myself from his grasp with a trick he had taught us, and while he was gaping in shock, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the kitchen and down the cellar stair.
He didn’t resist (which was a good thing, because I would never have been able to drag him) and in minutes, there we were, staring at the tunnel entrance with the rest of the Companions and Lobo and Lady Brianna crowded behind us.
He drew a long breath. “Well,” he finally said. “This explains a great deal.” Then he turned to Lady Brianna. “Are you prepared to take them in your charge and guard them?”
“I am,” she said. “If this is the work of the Dark Fae, then they have violated the Compact and my actions are lawful. If this was done by only the Trolls, they are not and never have been part of the Compact and I may use my powers against them. And I can make sure that we have provisions, should we need them, without burdening us with them.”
“Go then,” he said steadily. “I’m in no shape for a long trek through that thing. I’ll give you a good head start, then tell the King.”
And with that, he turned around and left. I sent my light on ahead of us into the tunnel to light the way; and with a deep breath and one hand on my sword, I followed after Lobo, who continued on, nose to the tunnel floor.
Surely there must be an end to this soon. I had been thinking this for the last several hours, and so, I am sure, had the Companions. But the tunnel stretched on before us mile after mile. Trolls are bigger than humans, and a good thing too, or we’d probably have been screaming with claustrophobia. Periodically, we came upon holes in the ceiling from which fresh air gently flowed. How had they done that? I had no idea. Wizards could do something of the sort for mine shafts, but I’d never heard of Trolls doing magic.
Then again, I’d never heard of Trolls not doing magic.
We had all started our journey filled with righteous wrath. I can’t speak for the others, but after the first couple of miles, I discovered that I couldn’t keep “wrath” going. I was running out of anger, and all that was keeping me on my feet was determination. I was tired. I was suffering slightly from the close quarters. I was hungry and thirsty and acutely aware that I should have been asleep hours ago. I hoped the others were handling the confined space and the weariness all right. I worried about Lady Brianna—her wings barely fit in the tunnel, and I couldn’t imagine what this was like for a creature who could fly.
After what seemed like an eternity of trudging down an endless tunnel with nothing ahead of me but the little space illuminated by my ball of light, Giles, who was right behind me, tapped me on the shoulder. “Lady Brianna says we need to stop and take a rest and call Lobo back.”
I was definitely happy to hear that, although I wished we were taking a break under an open sky. “Lobo!” I called into the darkness that was so black I could barely see the end of Lobo’s tail swishing back and forth. “Lady Brianna is calling for a rest!”
The tunnel seemed to swallow up my words, but Lobo turned and padded back toward me as everyone sat down on the oddly smooth surface of the tunnel. Or in my case, I put my back against the tunnel wall and slid down it until I was sprawled on the floor.
Now that we were sitting down, I could see everyone, and it didn’t seem quite so claustrophobic. And the next thing I knew, there were chunks of bread being passed up the line, and Giles handed me two, one for me and one for Lobo. Right after that came cheese, hard sausage, then bunches of radishes and carrots; and I realized that I was starving. How long had we been down here?
“Where are you getting that stuff from, Lady Brianna?” asked Rob, sounding astonished. “Are you—”
“Just apporting them from the kitchen cellars and pantry,” Brianna said. “Don’t worry, they aren’t like the Fae food in your stories; they won’t vanish and leave you hungry again.”
I, for one, was glad to hear that as I crunched into a carrot. I even ate the greens from the radish and the carrot, I was so hungry. And before long, a wine flask filled with water was being passed up the line. I poured some out into my hand, and Lobo politely lapped it up until his thirst was sated. This definitely was a magic flask, since no matter how much water I poured from it, it never emptied.
As I ate, I examined the tunnel. It had a flat floor, lumpy sides, and an arching top, and it looked like the glazed inside of a brick. But this wasn’t rock, so we weren’t under the palace anymore. Had the Trolls somehow fused the earth into this substance so they wouldn’t have to put up supports to keep it from falling in on them? More mysteries.
But as the energy I’d started this journey on ebbed, I was having qualms. I had been thinking about this for the last mile at least. I wasn’t ready to give up—but it wasn’t fair dragging my friends down this never-ending tunnel. And who knew what waited for us? My friends were all slumped over, heads hanging, as they recovered some strength. How many miles had we walked?
“When do we turn back?” I asked reluctantly.
Everyone’s head came up.
“Never!” Giles said fiercely, before anyone else could speak. “Dammit, Miri, we’re Aurora’s Companions and we’re not going back without her!”
Heads bobbed and everyone began babbling at once, which was unbearably loud in the close confines and caused us to fall silent. I licked my dry lips and said, “I’ll take that as we’re all in this till the end, then.”
“Rest,” said Brianna. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone pursuing us; either the King doesn’t know yet or he cannot spare anyone to go after us. As we have been sitting here, I’ve been listening to the tunnel behind us, and there has not been a single sound. So take as long as you need to recover and revive, and we will go on.”
“Yes,” I said, and sagged my own head to get back my energy as quickly as I could. “We’ll go on until the end.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“THERE’S LIGHT AHEAD!” LOBO CALLED BACK OVER HIS shoulder. “If anyone’s waiting there, I’ll take them by surprise! Follow!”
His words put new energy in all of us—I was sure that by now we must have walked twenty or thirty miles. I had never walked so much in my life, and I suspect that neither had the others, except maybe Giles. But we all hurried forward now, weapons out, trotting toward that dim circle of light ahead of us that grew bigger and bigger until we stumbled out onto a platform of dirt and gravel just under the crest of an enormous hill. We stood together, baffled, under a midnight sky and a full moon without a Troll in sight.
“Well, that was… anticlimactic,” said Rob, speaking for all of us, I suspect. My heart plummeted.
But Lobo’s head went up, then down, then up again. “I can still smell the Trolls. Faintly, but the trail is still there.”
“Where are we?” asked Elle.
“See that peak over there?” Brianna asked her. “That’s Mount Torsee. And that one there is Mount Springrel. We’re about twenty miles from the palace as the crow flies.” She didn’t look happy. “There are a dozen old Troll lairs in these mountains. They could have gone to any of them. If they had the forethought to confuse their trail or wade through a stream—”
Lobo snorted. “I’m not that stupid. They can try muddling their trail all they like, but I’ll still find them.”
I know what we were all thinking. That will take time, and time is something we may not have.
What were the Trolls doing with Aurora? How long could a baby live without being fed? Did they have any idea how to feed her? A sick certainty crept over me that whispered, Time is running out.
“I’m using the amulet,” I said aloud. “And don’t try to stop me.”
As the others looked at me in confusion, Lady Brianna held up her hand. “Wait. I am not telling you not to—but just wait a moment. I never intended that amulet to transport you more than a hund
red feet to the nursery.”
“I should have used it the moment Melalee screamed!” I replied, thinking that if I had, I certainly could have surprised them in the tunnel.
Then what? What if there had been more than two or three?
“Just wait a moment. Let’s make a plan. I can fly; Serulan’s cave is not far from here, and he can carry all five of you. Lobo is limited by the fact that we are slower than he is. Wait long enough for me to get Serulan and fly back. Then use the amulet. If it’s too far for your strength, nothing will happen and Lobo’s tracking. If you transport yourself to Aurora and you can find a place in the lair where you can reach the outside, send up a light to show us where you are. Then Lobo can stay back. I very much doubt even Trolls will want to contend with a fully grown dragon.” She bared her teeth, and I was taken aback. I had never seen her war face before. It actually made me step back a pace or two.
“All right,” I said. “But hurry.”
The words weren’t even out of my mouth before she was in the air, leaving us on that gravel platform in a chilly breeze.
“What amulet?” Giles asked, and I had to explain what Brianna and I had made. And all the while, the moon crawled by overhead, and time seemed to be passing too quickly and not quickly enough all at once. Too quickly because it was night and Trolls could not bear the daylight. If they were still moving, they were getting farther away from me at every moment. And not quickly enough because Lady Brianna still hadn’t returned with Serulan.
We’d long since taken to sitting down and huddling together in a group to keep warm when Brianna and the dragon came winging down out of the night sky. Armor and the padding under it seems horribly warm when you are fighting in it, but when you are sitting still, a cold breeze finds every single quilted seam.
I jumped to my feet as Serulan made a four-footed landing on the side of the hill next to our platform. “I’m going!” I said, before anyone could say anything; I unsheathed my sword, called my little light ball to hover over my head (though I had no idea if it could follow me or not), and grasped the locket with my left hand and triggered the spell.
I knew it had worked only because I was suddenly plunged into inky darkness. I quickly conjured another light, a dimmer one this time.
And from somewhere near my feet, Aurora made a disgusted noise. I looked down, and there she was, nestled in furs in a knee-high stone cradle, her face screwed up in protest at the light.
I snatched her up in my left arm; she blinked at the light over my head, then her eyes focused on me and her little face lit up with a sunny smile. “Ah-glibble!” she said with delight, and grabbed for my chin.
I nearly burst into tears.
I took a quick look around. We were in a round stone chamber with an oval wooden door in it. Piles of dry moss and nappies of thin leather proved that the Trolls were aware the baby needed changing, and they were supplying the closest thing they had to cloth nappies. And then I froze as I heard voices outside the chamber.
My heart in my mouth, I quickly extinguished the light and moved to the side of the door where the hinges were.
“I don’t care, Father! It’s not right.” The voice sounded high and gravelly at the same time. “You’ve done something horrible. When has anyone ever been able to trust the Dark Fae? And now you’ve gone and kidnapped a daywalker baby princess, and if the daywalkers didn’t hate us before, they certainly do now!”
There came the sound of another voice, much deeper and sounding so much like rocks tumbling together that I couldn’t actually make out the words.
“I’m telling you, it’s not right,” the younger voice replied stubbornly. “Someone is going to pay for this—and it’s probably going to be us!”
I heard the door latch being lifted and realized at that moment that I had made a critical mistake. I’d picked up Aurora and I couldn’t put her down. She’d cry. But I couldn’t put the sword down, either.
So I edged closer to the door. There was only one thing that might work. But it was going to depend on my being between the Troll I’d heard coming in and the door. My heart thudded like the hooves of a galloping horse, the back of my neck was cold with sweat, and my insides were in a ball. Everything seemed very sharp and clear and focused even if I couldn’t see anything.
The door opened inward, and I stood behind it. Light didn’t so much pour into the room as drift in—whatever the Troll was using to light his way, it was dim. Feet shuffled into the room.
I saw a bulky shadow with a dimly glowing globe dangling from one hand. It came right up to the furs heaped in the middle of the improvised cradle. “It’s me, Baby,” said the young voice. “I’m here to see if you need anything. I’m so sorry—”
I kicked the door closed, made the brightest light I could conjure flare into life over my head, and pointed my sword at the creature who had cried out in pain at the appearance of the light and stumbled away from it. “Be still!” I quietly snarled, not wanting to attract any more attention than I had to. And at the moment, what little plan I had relied on having a hostage.
No one in Tirendell had seen a Troll in generations, and the descriptions in books varied wildly. In fact, the only common assertions about Trolls were that they were monstrous, hulking creatures who (possibly) feasted on human flesh, dressed in stinking skins, and (definitely) could not bear the light of the sun. But what cowered away from the light in front of me was not all that impressive.
Although he looked a little like a rough sculpture of a human being made out of smoothed rock, he wasn’t much taller or bulkier than I was. He was wearing a rather nicely made sleeveless leather tunic and trews that wouldn’t have been out of place on a hunter or blacksmith. He was hairless and bald, and the color of his skin was the same pale gray as the unweathered rock here in this cave. His huge eyes, which took up a good quarter of his face, were a pale blue. He shaded his eyes with his hands and still had to squint to look at me. And he hadn’t let go of the lantern, whose feeble light was nothing compared with the bright orb above my head.
He didn’t seem to be armed. In fact, it looked as if he had come to do what he’d said when he’d entered—check on Aurora to see if she was all right.
He was half-frozen with fear and cowering away from me, and I was almost as terrified as he was as I stood with my sword pointed at him and Aurora in my left arm. And we might have stood there forever like that, but he finally must have decided to try to placate me. He straightened and whispered, “Look—”
But that had given me another chance to act and put myself in a better position to control the situation. The moment he made a tentative step away from me, while his mind was focused on putting distance between us rather than on me, I moved. Just as Sir Delacar had taught me, I whirled on him, and when I stopped moving again, I was behind him. He was now a shield between me and anything that might come in through the door, and the edge of my sword nearest the hilt was at his throat. I’d have preferred a knife, but beggars and all that.
My heart was pounding so hard that it felt as if I had been running for a solid hour. But somehow I kept my hands from shaking.
Aurora was finding all this highly entertaining. “Gribble!” she said, and laughed.
“Don’t move,” I warned him. “Don’t even think about moving.”
“I won’t!” he said in a strangled voice.
Now that I was in a more superior position, I had to come up with a plan, and the best one I could manage at the moment was to wait until someone else came through that door, make it clear that I had this fellow hostage, and make my demands. Or—wait, better still, make him lead me to the outside, where I could signal Serulan. Of course, how well that worked would depend on who this Troll was.
“Who are you?” I whispered fiercely.
He gulped. “Kol. Prince Kol. What—”
“I’ll be the one asking the questions here!” I snapped in a harsh whisper, then I bumped his chin with the hilt. “Where is this?”
�
�I don’t know!” And when I moved the sword closer to his neck, he said, “I don’t know what you daywalkers call it!”
Well, that made sense even if it didn’t help me. “How far is this place from where that tunnel you Trolls dug to the palace comes out?”
“I don’t know that, either!” he said, choking his words off with a sob. “I’m sorry! I didn’t go on that trek!”
“Well, you’re not much use, are you?” I didn’t mean that, of course. He was a lot of use. If he really was a prince, he was a terrific bargaining chip. “What are you doing with my baby sister?”
I felt a tear splash down on my hand, and if I hadn’t been vibrating between fear and anger, I would have let him go right then and there. “I was taking care of her! Honest! I’ve been making sure she stays dry and clean and fed! Oh, I told Father this was going to happen! I told him he couldn’t get away with this, that the daywalkers would come and…” Then he stopped, as if he’d just realized something. “Baby is your sister? You’re a daywalker princess? Oh, Kreblin, now what are we going to do? You’re bringing an army, aren’t you? You’re going to kill us all, aren’t you? I mean, really murder us all! Please don’t kill us! Please—”
“Shut up!” The babbling was getting on my nerves. He sounded like Serulan all over again—wait. “Let’s try something simple. Why did you steal Aurora?”
“To keep you from killing us when we moved here! Oh, I told Father we shouldn’t have listened to that Dark Fae. I told him this was a terrible idea! I—”
“Shut it,” I said, cutting him off—metaphorically, that is. “Why would you think that humans would kill you when you moved here?”
“Because the histories say that you always kill Trolls.” He was so sincere that I couldn’t doubt that he believed it. “As soon as you daywalkers find Trolls under your land, you come down into our tunnels and fill them full of fire and drive us up to the surface and the Daystar. And then we die. That’s why this cave was deserted, because you daywalkers killed everyone in it.”
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