Artemis Awakening (39 page)

“Not at all,” Griffin said firmly. “Searching later. Escape first.”

“Let’s go.”

*   *   *

The exodus was well under way when Sand Shadow signaled that she heard Julyan returning. Adara had already released the waiting “filly”—a young woman who had nearly fainted in relief. Now she held up a hand to halt the trickle of escapees.

“Hold,” she said. “Trouble coming. When I’ve secured it, keep going.”

Narda was acting as shepherd. At her nod, everyone backed into cover. Not even the children whispered a question. Grateful as she was for their quiescence, the silence made Adara’s blood cold. Children without questions were somehow less than children.

Some odd part of Adara longed to confront Julyan, to meet him face to face, show him that she had penetrated into this secure area, despite the precautions taken by him and his master.

But I am not a silly girl. And too much depends on this.

Instead, she waited. In a moment Julyan would notice the guard was not at his post. What would he do?

Annoyance lighting his face, Julyan quickened his pace, but he did not call either for the guard or for aid.

Doubtless he thinks to catch the man with his trousers down—maybe literally—and punish him for dereliction. Julyan would enjoy that.

When Julyan was rounding the corner into the women’s quarters, Adara pounced. Julyan was a big man, strongly built, so she did not plan to give him a chance. Instead, as Adara rolled to take Julyan’s feet out from under him, Sand Shadow leapt. Though the puma kept her claws sheathed, she provided a considerable weight. She laid one paw solidly on the side of his neck, pulling as if to sink in her fangs as she would when killing more usual prey. Feeling the great cat’s breath hot on his skin, Julyan stopped struggling.

“Make a sound,” Adara said with soft menace, “and she bites.” Then, to Narda, “Go!”

The stream of women and children resumed as Adara first gagged then bound Julyan. With the threat of Sand Shadow, Julyan did not attempt anything, but his dark eyes widened.

Now the women leaving carried small babies. Some of the infants fussed a little, but none cried. Adara knew that Zenobia had been busily dosing them with a decoction kept in the nursery. The need to do this had been one reason that the babies had been left for last.

Adara was finishing efficiently binding Julyan’s legs—securing them by a long loop to a cord around his neck so he couldn’t kick without strangling himself—when a bell tolled, followed by voices shouting in the distance. Abandoning her prisoner, Adara and Sand Shadow sprang toward the disturbance.

*   *   *

“It’s not going to be as easy as walking into the Old One’s office and taking him,” Cordie cautioned. “He has a direct alarm to the men’s quarters. There’s no way we can get to him before he sets it off.”

“He’d be certain to set it off if he saw me or Terrell,” Griffin said, “but would he for you?”

“Maybe.” Cordie shrugged. “He’s a paranoid type. Living so long has made him suspicious of any threat. He’d like to keep living for another couple hundred years.”

“Still,” Terrell said, “sending you in first would be our best bet. Our only other would be to secure the men’s quarters and every guard first. I don’t think we can pull that off without raising an alert—not even with whatever Adara has done already.”

“And she must have taken some guards out,” Griffin agreed. Even as he spoke, his thoughts argued through a dozen tactical possibilities, very much at this moment a scion of the warlike Danes. “Or we would have heard something by now. Fine. Here’s what we do. Cordie goes in with a message.”

He scribbled on a piece of paper, then handed it to Cordie.

“Your message. The Old One usually works behind a big desk. While his attention is on you, Terrell and I will get low and creep toward him. If we’re lucky, we’ll have him secured before any guards can get to him. Is the Old One’s office guarded?”

“Usually one man,” Cordie said. “More to run messages or bring things than guard. Depending on who it is, I may be able to bluff my way through. If not…”

He shrugged.

“We’re set,” Griffin said. He took a moment to grab the sheet from his bed and bundled it under one arm. “Let’s go.”

When they reached the vicinity of the Old One’s office, Cordie held up a hand in a gesture for “wait.” A moment later he whispered, “Archie,” and gave an eloquent shrug.

Without another word, he walked briskly up to where a bristle-haired man sat drowsing on a three-legged stool.

Archie rose, probably expecting to relay a message. He was stretching and pulling his tunic straight when Cordie’s fist caught him solidly in the gut. This was followed by a left to the jaw that knocked him out. Griffin and Terrell needed no other signal. They were on the fallen man before he could hit the floor. Griffin trussed him neatly in the sheet.

Pausing only to make sure his tunic was neat, Cordie knocked on the office door. The Old One’s voice was thinly audible.

“Yes?”

Cordie swung the door open wide, then moved briskly, the piece of paper extended. “Message from Griffin Dane, sir.”

“Griffin? At this hour?” The Old One accepted the paper.

“He thumped on his door until Sam came. Sam relayed it to me, and I brought it here.”

Griffin heard the paper being unfolded. He wished he could see the Old One’s face as he looked at the string of Sierran characters Griffin had scrawled on the page.

“What the…”

Moving almost as one, Griffin and Terrell were on him. Nonetheless, darting out his right hand with astonishing speed, the Old One managed to pull a rope that hung just a few inches away. A loud bell tolled. A male voice shouted, then another.

“But they’ll be too late,” Griffin said, tightening his hold on the much smaller man. “We have you.”

“So it seems,” said the Old One Who Is Young. “So it seems.”

*   *   *

As Adara and Sand Shadow raced in the direction of the noise, it rapidly became apparent that it came from two sources: the first was the dormitory where most of the resident males slept, the other was Administration. Since Adara heard Griffin and Terrell’s voices in the latter area—and neither sounded unduly distressed—she angled toward the men’s dormitory.

As with the area that held the women and children, this dormitory had been adapted by walling off sections in one of the vast shuttle hangars. Unlike the women, who were allotted no privacy, the men had small individual rooms, although they shared common toilet areas and baths. The individual rooms emptied into a common corridor that fed into a wider area that served as communal dining room and lounge.

Although the seegnur had always left a back way out, Adara had noted that the Old One had not done so here. She wondered if the Old One had wanted to be able to trap the bulk of “his” men in case they became dissatisfied with a life that was hardly better than incarceration. Such seemed likely. Adara thought she was beginning to understand how the Old One thought, the thoughts of a man who had lived hundreds of years and planned to live hundreds more.

When Adara and Sand Shadow arrived, the men had only just begun to emerge from their rooms into the corridor. They were in various states of undress. A few of the more alert held weapons. More held candles or lanterns. She heard their muttered comments clearly.

“What’s going on?”

“If this is another damn drill, I’m going to have Julyan’s balls.” This from a man who not only held a sword but had stamped into a pair of boots.

“Hey, watch out with that candle!”

“Let’s get out of this crush.”

“Tam, Pik.” This from Boots. “You’re better dressed than most of these slobs. Head for the Old One’s office. That’s his bell that went off.”

Two men, also armed, also more than minimally clad, pushed through the others toward the exit.

Adara sent an image to Sand Shadow. The end of the corridor was illuminated by a single lantern. The great cat could easily put it out. Adara herself moved to block the exit.

As a hunter, she had not trained with a sword, but she was very good with a staff—and it had a longer reach than a sword. When Sand Shadow extinguished the lantern, she moved to block the exit.

“Hold,” she said. “No one shall pass.”

Lights angled toward her.

“That’s not one of ours!”

“Who the hell?”

“All she’s got is a stick…”

This was from a man who had emerged from his room holding a sword and wearing not very much clothing. An easy swing of Adara’s staff demonstrated why “just a stick” was more than enough, especially to a man with no crotch protection. The man crumpled, sucking in his breath. The crowd in the corridor instantly thinned as men retreated to claim weapons, clothing, and other gear.

Adara sent an image to Sand Shadow: seek something hidden, probably holds the Old One’s scent but few others. She included a flash of other concealments they had found hidden in the Old One’s complexes.

Boots, with Tam and Pik as assistants, was assembling a small army when Sand Shadow sent a gleeful image of a panel behind which was a broad rectangular lever flush with the wall.

Pull down,
Adara suggested.

Extending her claws, the puma gripped and tugged. The lever moved easily. A grinding noise sounded above and to the sides of the doorway into the men’s quarters. A moment later, a gate slid down and closed off the exit. The gate was made of wrought iron, clearly intended to resist the tools the men would have with them.

Boots, who had been hurrying forward, jumped back rather than risk being impaled.

Adara quickly found the bolts that locked the gate into place. Compared to the seegnur’s technology, the barrier was primitive enough, but she was sure it would hold these men in. After all, the Old One had intended that it should.

Eventually, the men could break out, but not before Adara and Sand Shadow had time to scour the complex for the remainder who had been standing watch. Cordie was doubtless with Terrell and Griffin. If Griffin’s information was correct, there would only be a few more—but even one could undo the bolts or untie Julyan and then they would be in trouble.

Before beginning her search, Adara checked to make sure Julyan was still secure. He was but, just in case, she dragged him into a nearby closet, closed the door, and shimmed it shut with a convenient doorstop. She’d found and disabled another guard, gotten Sand Shadow’s image of another taken out of action, when she heard a strange sound, familiar, but somehow difficult to place. Then she realized it was the roar of water.

*   *   *

The Old One clearly expected his bell to do something dramatic. His expression was sardonic, the mocking expression in his grey eyes deepening as booted feet pounded up the corridor.

Griffin wrapped his hand over the Old One’s mouth before the other could call out. Cordie dodged into the outer corridor.

“Hey, Dognose. False alarm.”

His voice fell too soft for those in the room to hear, but Griffin didn’t doubt that Cordie was explaining how the Old One had been careless. There was a thump. Cordie poked his head back in.

“That was Sam. There’s a commotion by the men’s dorm, but I don’t hear anyone coming.”

Terrell grinned. “Adara and Sand Shadow probably have them pinned down.”

Griffin turned his attention to the Old One. The pale grey eyes had lost their mocking expression, but there was no panic there, only thoughtfulness.

“We’ve taken this place,” Griffin said. “If Adara followed the plan, the women and children are already out. No help seems to be coming for you. Really, the only question that remains is what do we do with you. I know plenty of people who would say killing was too good, but I’m selfish. You have things I want. I doubt you’ve shared all your secrets. I could unravel them in time, but I’d rather suggest a partnership—similar to the one you suggested to me but with the positions reversed. You get the cozy bedroom and supervised research; I get a bit more mobility. Who knows? In the end, we may both profit.”

He uncovered the Old One’s mouth. The Old One asked, “And how would you explain my absence?”

“You’re a mysterious man. It won’t be hard.”

“And your own resurrection?”

“I was never dead. I’ll try to come up with an explanation that will save your reputation, but I’m sure that one or more of your men—Cordie, say—would be happy to come forth if I need witnesses as to what you did to me. You’re respected, Old One, but I don’t think you have too many friends.”

Terrell nodded. “The people of Spirit Bay are more scared of you than otherwise. The loremasters are awed, but many are disgruntled that you dismiss the more spiritual aspects of the lore.”

“Where would I be kept?”

“Here, for now,” Griffin said. “It’s convenient. Isolated, but close to things we’re both interested in—like what’s behind that hidden door. Now that we know there are at least two tunnels connecting to the mainland, this place should serve nicely.”

“You’ve thought it all out.”

“I’ve had a lot of time. My evenings were very long.”

The Old One looked between Griffin and Terrell. “There are legends that the factotum were adapted so that in an emergency they could serve as communications for the seegnur—a safeguard against the primitivism they claimed to crave. I wonder…”

Terrell shrugged. “Wonder all you want. Like Griffin says, you’re going to have a lot of quiet evenings.”

“I keep my life, but not my freedom,” the Old One mused. “Well, in a long existence I’ve been offered worse. I shall accept. Shall I show my good will by directing you to the tunnel that leads directly to the Sanctum?”

His expression turned wry. “I told very few about it. It was built so that it could be hidden. The staff did not wish tourists from the landing base to come through.”

Griffin glanced at Terrell.

Terrell frowned. “No need to take risks. We’ll leave by the way we already know is secure.”

“Good point.”

“You decline.” The Old One looked pleased rather than otherwise. “Very well. Where will you keep me?”

“For now, my cell will do,” Griffin said. “I’ve spent enough time in there to be sure it’s secure—not one of these plaster and timber rooms you’ve built.”