Lillith

by Carol Buhler

  Timidly, I picked up the mop as he glared through narrowed, angry eyes. Once I'd started listlessly swishing the heavy strands, the guard walked to a second door in the small room and opened it. "Knock on this door when yer done. And make it quick." Disappearing into a dark hallway beyond, he slammed the door behind him.

  "Yes sir, Mr. Guard, sir." I sneered after him in case he was watching.

  ~Lillith

  In the pine grove, Memm snorted to catch my attention. "I’m going back to Center," he said. "The girls are getting anxious with me gone. No one will let Saradon see Raedon and she’s fretting enough to disturb Sissith. I can’t hide my location from her much longer."

  "Yes, go!" I waved a wing at him. "We can continue here. The coma will last a while yet, right?"

  "Until I release him." The bay nodded, then trotted to the south and took off.

  Lillyon gazed after him. "You know," he said thoughtfully. "It might not have been a bad idea to include Saradon and Sissith in this plot of yours."

  I huffed. "Saradon maybe, but not Sissith. She has way too many gossipy friends. She may be mind-mated to the Royal Fem, but I don’t think she’s mature enough to hide our activities successfully from the others always around. Once she’s married to Memm, she’ll settle down, I expect." I turned back to stare toward Pith, feeling Joedon's mind focused on getting deeper into the prison.

  Lillyon joined me, letting a wing rest lightly on my back. "What’s he doing now?"

  "Still mopping, but he's in one of the internal hallways now."

  ~Joedon

  I squinted through the tiny slot on the thick cell door labeled twenty-three, then started and almost dropped my image. Glancing quickly at the guard, I breathed a sigh of relief—he hadn’t noticed. Raedon lay on the cot in the cell curled in a ball. Finally, I understood why I hadn’t sensed the other earlier; he'd withdrawn into a self-induced coma. Why'd he do that? I fumed. If he’d remained conscious, we could have projected guard images and walked right out. From the cell door, Raedon appeared human, but if anyone checked him, a touch might reveal the odd body behind the illusion. What now?

  I'd just stepped back from Raedon's cell door when a bell clanged overhead. The guard snapped, "Jugbutt. Mop that water up quick. Then, head back up front. Move it, now."

  Where is Lillith? I sloshed the water around and fretted.

  We returned a few minutes later, followed by guards opening doors and releasing prisoners for something called, "Morning exercise." No one stopped at Raedon's cell to let him out.

  ~Lillith

  With Lillyon projecting an invisibility screen for me, I hovered over the palace building. A wide-open courtyard below looked big enough for me to land to rescue Joedon and Raedon if things got out of hand. But, I worried about the several guards milling around the trees and planters glowing with flowers. Guns in holsters, they simply watched prisoners run in the sunshine.

  Joedon had been locked inside the prison while the prisoners exercised; he was no longer mopping. For just a moment, he’d slumped against a wall and dropped his image, giving his mind a break. He’s so tired. I quickly recited my reasons for making him suffer through this to keep from interfering.

  ~ Joedon

  Left alone at last, I dropped the mop and knelt to examine Raedon's cell door. Flinging a strong mental shout at the still figure brought no response. I considered my options. Bend the window bars? The opening’s too small to be useful. The door lock? The hinges? I pushed with all my strength against the wooden door. It screeched and sagged but neither lock nor hinges gave. I caught a sound—the outside door’s squeaking open. Dashing to get my bucket before the guard stuck his head through enough to see, I resumed my image, mop sloshing the floor.

  "Get a move on, Jughead. You got ten minutes to finish this hallway."

  "Yes, sir, Mr. Guard, sir."

  "What else can I try?" I despaired, muttering. "Where the dung is Lillith?"

  The outside door slammed open and men filed back into the hall. Barely holding on to my illusion, I preceded the truncheon as the troop re-celled their charges. We all trudged back to the front of the prison. Near the entry room, I stumbled over something and almost fell, feeling my image waver. Struggling, I barely managed to pull it back together before anyone noticed.

  ~ Lillith

  I spun in the air and flew rapidly south.

  "Where are you going?" Lillyon’s voice was loud in my mind as he followed.

  "I have to get away. If I stay here, I’m going to break down and help him and everything will be for naught." I stroked harder.

  "How far away?"

  "I don’t know. Until I can’t hear him. Until I can’t feel him. Maybe all the way to Mont!"

  An hour later, my resolve firmly back under control, I returned with Lillyon to hover over the prison. Joedon was about to his limit; I could feel the weariness in his mind more than his muscles. He’d been awake for almost thirty-six hours, throwing images at humans the entire time. The guard, however, seemed to have mellowed toward him.

  "Hey there, Jugbait. You tired?” I heard through Joedon’s ears. “You worked good here today, better than the last drudges I got. How 'bout you stick around?"

  "Yes sir, Mr. Guard, sir," Joedon mumbled.

  "You don’t really got a family to support, do you?" The guard sounded concerned. I provided a tiny mental nudge.

  "No sir, Mr. Guard, sir. I got nobody but my own self." Even Joedon’s physical voice sounded exhausted.

  "Well, I kinda like you." The guard greeted another guard, who’d just arrived. "Here's the night man and we're off duty. Let's find you a spot to bed down. Your day's over but you gotta start again at six in the morning. You won't get paid, but you'll always get good food, like today."

  Injecting a twinge of pleading into his words, Joedon pretended amazement. "You mean, Mr. Guard, sir, that I can stay here?"

  "Not here, but close." The guard pushed Joedon out the door and herded him along the outside of the prison, around the corner to a small door halfway down the east side of the building. "These here's the servants' rooms. They ain't great but you can sleep and be safe. Better'n where I found you."

  The narrow hall they entered was lined on both sides by small doors. I nudged again; the guard paused, shook his head as if confused, then led the way to the fifth door on the inside wall. The room was small, empty except for a cot across the back wall and a chamber pot.

  "Now, Jug, I don't ‘xactly trust you to be here in the morning, so's I’m gonna lock you in. I'll be back at five-thirty." He stepped back, then closed and locked the door. "See ya in the morning, Jughead."

  Joedon panicked and threw himself against the door to simply bounce off. His mind cried out, more frantic with each word, “I’m locked in a dark, tiny, stone room for the next ten hours. I'm running out of time! Lillith, where are you?”

  I leaned on Lillyon for extra strength. Fortunately, Joedon forced himself to develop calm and lie down; bone and mind weary, he cleared his mind so it could recharge and put himself to sleep.

  "Clever, my love." Lillyon nuzzled my ear and I let myself relax. "You aimed that guard masterfully!"

  "Didn’t I though?" Although almost as tired as Joedon, I allowed myself a chuckle from deep in my throat. "The discovery of that room and its secret is what started me on this path in the first place. Juldon did us a good service getting that information."

  "What’s next?"

  I reached out very gently and touched Joedon’s mind. "He’s sleeping soundly, and recuperating well. In a bit, I’ll wake him and send him onto the next phase."

  "How long?" Lillyon gazed longingly toward a broad grassy stretch of ground on the other side of the Pith River, tempting in the evening glow.

  "Yes, love. Let’s go graze." I lifted lightly off the ground and together we drifted over the river to land in the grass on the other side.

  ~ Joedon

  Suddenly, I was awake. Looking quickly around, I remembered where I was
and what I was supposed to be doing: rescuing Raedon. The room was pitch black. Feeling carefully along the wall, I found the wooden door and started shoving against it with my shoulder. No give. Wish I'd paid better attention to the lock picking class. A lark at the time, a needed skill now.

  I poked and prodded at the stones around the door, trying to separate it from the wall. No give there either. I dropped to my knees to explore the floor, stood on the cot to examine the ceiling, ran my hands over both end walls. No stone moved. Stifling my frustration and anxiety, I dragged the cot to the front wall and started on the back.

  A loud click startled me. Then, a section of the wall turned to my pressure; I fell through into an even darker beyond, landing on steep stone stairs. Before I could react, the opening screeched closed behind me. "Well, I wanted out of that room." Slowly, feeling carefully along wall and steps, I started up since down seemed a less sensible option.

  Chapter 3

  ~Joedon

  It felt like hours since I’d fallen out of the servant’s room as I picked my way along my fourth dank, pitch-black, narrow hall. Five flights of stairs and hallways back and forth seemed to be leading me through the innards of the building. The prison, the palace, and the barracks all connected, but where I was now, I hadn't a clue.

  I stopped to calm my pounding heart and firmly suppress my imagination. There has to be an end to this darkness—a way out somewhere. Forcing my breathing to slow by taking unhurried, deep breaths, I rubbed my aching fingers, scraped along stone walls not wide enough to fully extend my arms. My bare toes ached too; I'd removed my boots early on, expecting my feet to warn me of impossible-to-see openings in the floor. I'd found several small cavities on either side wall, rough cut just big enough for my hand to fit through; my wrists and forearms felt slimy with blood. The entire hallway-stairway system was tightly constructed of gritty stone; I couldn't imagine why it had been built.

  After a few moments of rest, I started forward again. When I tripped on something, the wall to my right swung away from my hand and streaming light momentarily blinded me. I stumbled quickly through before the opening closed behind me to find myself in a large room facing two young humans, one dressed in an outlandishly huge ball gown while the other pinned a hem. The one on her knees screamed and sagged in a faint.

  As my vision cleared, the lady raised her brows, asking in a haughty voice, "Who are you? How did you get in here?" No fear in her voice or posture. Tall for a human female, she was different from any human women I'd ever seen: flaming red hair, emerald eyes over high cheekbones, a slightly tipped nose and full, luscious lips. Even the odd dress—I recognized a traditional wedding costume—did not diminish her striking appearance. She couldn't have been more than twenty.

  Stunned, I took in the double doors, ornate wallpaper, divans and upholstered chairs with wooden feet, small inlaid tables with vases against the walls, and wide, thick carpets on the floor. A fancy salon.

  "How did you get in here?" Her demand jerked my attention back to the girl.

  Why isn't she angry? "I fell through that opening." I was mesmerized and forgot to project a human image.

  "Get it open again, please!" she pleaded, breaking the spell.

  "I don’t know how I opened it in the first place. In my original room, a doorway opened because I was pushing on one of the stones in the wall."

  She threw me a sharp glance, crossed the room, and began pushing on the stones, barely reaching the wall past her hooped skirt. Her determination compelled me to help. Then, the screaming started. The maid had recovered.

  The lady whirled around, the swinging skirt almost toppling her over. As she regained her balance, she shouted. "Go bar the door before that damn noise brings in the guards!"

  I sprinted across the room and slammed down the bar at the door, just in time from the sounds in the hall: boots slapping on stone, then fists pounding the door. I turned to see the girl slap the maid on the cheek. It didn’t stop the screaming so I threw out a command of silence and the maid crumpled.

  "What did you do?" demanded the lady. "Cari’s not dead, is she?"

  I glanced at the crumpled woman, short and plump with black curls tied up in a blue bow that matched her uniform. Jewel-headed pins were scattered all around her. "No, she's not dead."

  "Good." The girl turned back to the wall I’d blundered through. "Come help me open the doorway."

  "Wait just a minute." I frowned at her. "You can stop ordering me around and tell me what's going on."

  "We have no time. If those guards break through the door and find you here, they'll lock me up in my room."

  "Don't you mean they'll lock me up?" My frown deepened. What's wrong with this girl? She doesn’t make sense. She isn’t afraid of a stranger in her room. In fact, she has the gall to order me around! She seemed frantic to get away from the guards, yet she wore a very expensive wedding dress. She should be one happy young lady.

  "Of course they'll lock you up, but so what? They might put you in prison for a few days. But, they're going to make me marry Lord Roark. That's forever! I was in despair until you fell through that opening." Her wide eyes pleaded with me for understanding.

  The dark hallways must have muddled my thinking. Then, in a flash, I began to understand. "You're Soer Jaym, aren’t you? Your wedding is tomorrow." I focused on her black vest and skirt to see Lord Metz’ blue coat of arms entwined with Lord Roark’s red in the embroidery. What was Metz thinking to subject his daughter to such an existence? Before I’d seen the girl, I hadn’t thought a thing about what a Soer’s life would be like as Roark’s wife. Now, I couldn’t image a worse fate for her.

  "Tell me something I don’t already know," she snapped.

  The pounding on the door stopped. A tenor voice called, "Soer Jaym, are you alright?"

  "Of course I'm alright, Garard," she shouted back.

  "My Soer, the guards say they heard screaming. And your door is bolted. How did you lower the bolt? It's very heavy."

  "I want to be left alone. Go away." She'd lowered her tone to one of firmness but her angry green eyes bored into mine.

  "I'm sorry, My Soer. I must see for myself that you're alright," came the voice.

  "Who is Garard?" I whispered.

  "My father’s majordomo. He won't go away." She looked frantically around before coming to rest on my face again. "Everyone knows I've refused to marry Lord Roark," she said earnestly. "I've sworn to kill myself if they make me do it. I know it sounds melodramatic, but—I am serious. Garard may be the only person who believes me. He will not leave me alone until after the wedding. Then, if I kill myself, he won't be held responsible."

  "My Soer. Please, unbolt this door and we'll talk reasonably," called Garard. I caught the note of panic behind the studied calm of the words. "Listen. I'm sending the guards away. It'll be just me who comes in." The guards tromped noisily away from the door.

  "Will he really send all the troops away?" I said quietly, doubting the noise.

  "Yes, he will. Garard is an honorable man. He's caught in this horrible situation just as I am. He has to make sure this wedding happens."

  I studied the girl intently, then, moved to the door. "Okay, this is what we do. I'll lift this bolt. You open the door, grab him, and pull him into the room. I'll slam down the bolt and hide while you talk to him."

  "What am I going to talk to him about?" Soer Jaym placed her hands on her hips and the green glare flashed again. "Everything's been said. I will not marry Lord Roark and he must make sure I do."

  "Do you know how to get outside the palace?"

  "What? Well...no. I've never been allowed past the second floor drawing rooms." Her eyes clouded with confusion. "We have a garden in the back where we walk to get our exercise and where the children play, but the ground floor is a mystery to me. There's no exit from the gardens to the outside." She cocked her head to one side and considered me, confusion replaced by speculation. "In fact, I'm not sure I could even find my way out of the dr
awing rooms to get to the bottom floor."

  "Then we need Garard. I don’t know how to get out and if you don’t either, then Garard has to help."

  "You're crazy. Garard's not going to help."

  "Trust me. He'll help if you get him into this room and keep his attention so I can slip up behind him. He won’t have any choice."

  The girl glowered, nose in the air. "Why would you help me?"

  "I have to." I shrugged; glancing around as if hoping for an answer in the room somewhere, I settled my gaze back on her face. "I have to get out of here, and I have to take you with me. Nothing will go right in my life ever again if I don’t." I sighed and said with conviction, "The second that wall opened and I saw you, I felt a compulsion." I held out my hand to stop her from speaking. "Don’t ask me to explain because I can’t. Maybe later I'll figure out what's going on. For now, I know I have to help you."

  Soer Jaym nodded and moved toward the door. "Ready."

  I leaned forward grasping the end of the bolt. She called, "Garard, we can talk through the door. Lean forward so you'll hear what I say."

  I yanked upward on the bolt and pulled the door open. Sure enough, Garard was leaning forward just outside the door. Soer Jaym grabbed the front of his tunic with both hands and jerked. Although he was a big man, she seemed quite strong for a woman, and Garard was off balance. He stumbled into the room, falling to his knees on the deep carpet. I slammed the door, dropped the bolt, and darted behind a divan before the man gathered his wits and lurched upright.

  "What game are you playing, My Soer?" Garard pulled himself into a type of parade-rest. He was a handsome man with a well-groomed head of dark brown hair and a small mustache, dressed in the palace blue uniform made of finer cloth than the that of the prison guards and embroidered with his badge of office on the sleeve. He leaned slightly toward Jaym.

  "It's no game, Garard. I'm leaving here today. I will not marry Lord Roark." The girl held her head high, her body pulled up to her full height. She was a glorious creature at that moment, but I had to focus on Garard. Slipping up behind the man, I lightly touched fingers to either side of the man’s head, just above his graying temples.