Castle for Rent (9 page)

The vault was completely dark. Cursing himself for not doing it before, he sought candle and flint wheel. At length he managed to get a flame from the wheel, lit a candle, and stood it in its sconce on the table. The tiny chamber filled with yellow light. The flame of the candle guttered. The place was well ventilated. He would be fine here, for a while. He had light, air, food, and books—and he could catch a few winks under the table. No one could find him, no one would bother him, not even the Hell-begotten blue demons.

Now, all he had to do was discover what particular hell had begotten them.

 

 

 

Keep

 

Gene stepped over the body of another castle Guardsman. He had lost track of how many they had encountered.

“The Bluefaces are everywhere,” he said to Linda. “It's a well-organized and coordinated attack. Meticulously planned, too, I'll bet."

“What should we do?” Linda asked.

“Leave the castle. Have any preferences as to what aspect we dive through?"

“Oh, any nice place with trees and grass, I guess."

“Trees and grass? How about a source of food? Remember, when you leave the castle, your magic stays here. No more whipping up quick meals with a wave of the hand."

“That's going to be somewhat of a problem."

They continued down the hallway cautiously, Gene in the lead and Snowclaw bringing up the rear. Sheila tagged close to Linda, whose hand she occasionally sought when danger neared. Linda didn't look as scared as Sheila was. But then, Linda was used to this place. Sheila didn't understand how anyone could get used to a nightmare, but she was more than willing to stick close to anyone who could.

They walked on a little farther until they came to a crossing corridor, at which they stopped. Gene poked his head around the corner.

“It's clear.” As he took a step forward, grunting sounds came from far down the hall to the left. Gene backstepped hastily, bumping into Linda. “Company coming!” he whispered.

They backtracked to an empty alcove and crowded into it. Sheila squeezed in next to Snowclaw, noticing how smooth and silky his fur was.

The rumble of heavy running feet sounded. Gene knelt, peered around the corner, and saw Bluefaces streaming through the intersection of the corridors.

“There must be thirty of ‘em. No, fifty."

The thunder of footsteps receded, diminishing to distant echoes.

Gene took a breath. “They must have invaded with a force in the thousands. They've probably already taken over key points in the castle."

“We don't have much of a chance,” Linda said.

“Not unless we find an acceptable gateway soon. If this keeps up, we might have to take the next one we run across."

“I'd invite you all to my world,” Snowclaw said, “except that it's pretty darn cold there, and you hairless types might not take to it. Besides, the portal's on the other side of the castle."

“I'd put up with the cold,” Gene said. “The more unattractive the world, the less chance the Bluefaces might be interested in it."

“Maybe so,” Snowclaw said. “Well, you're all welcome to stay in my shack for as long as you like. I wouldn't mind the company.” He scratched his belly absently. “We'd be a little crowded, though."

Gene said, “Snowy, I've always wanted to see your world, but I'm going to keep it as a last resort.” Gene leaned against the wall and scratched under his cuirass. “Damn it, all the best portals are in the Guest areas, which is where most of the invaders are going to be hanging out, of course."

“The one with the golf course is nice,” Linda said. “And the little dinosaur-humanoids are friendly."

“Primitive,” Gene said, shaking his head. “Hot, and dangerous. Outside the little resort area, it's pretty rough out there in the jungle. And the Bluefaces will be all through there, I bet."

“And we saw them on the picnic world,” Linda said. “So much for that."

“We must have looked into hundreds of portals since we've been here. There are 144,000 of them in the castle. Try to think of one that we can hide out in for a while."

“Well, there's the one with the forest and the waterfall."

“Same problem, it's near the Guest area."

“Right,” Linda said. “I've always liked the one that sort of looks like a Japanese garden."

“Ditto."

“Oh, you're right. Well, how about—?” Linda was stumped.

“Now, there was one with a little village nearby with nice sorts of native people. Little pale people with big golden eyes. They'd gladly put us up for a spell, I think. Damned if I can remember where the hell the portal was, though."

“I remember!” Linda said.

“Shhhh! Keep your voice down."

“Sorry. I was just thinking of one. It's not too far from here, if I recall. It's near the castle armory, and—” Her face fell. “Oh, dear."

“The armory's probably the first objective the Bluefaces took, along with the Guard garrison. You have to remember—"

Sounds of approaching footsteps came from the direction in which the Blueface troop had marched.

“They're coming back,” Gene said. “Come on!"

They ran. At the next intersecting hallway, they took the right branch, running a spell until they came to a stairwell. This they descended one level, where they found quiet.

“Hell,” Gene complained. “Look, we need to think, and plan. Let's get to someplace where we can do it, like Snowy's world. There, at least, we won't be bothered, and we can come up with some answers."

“Will we be able to get back into the castle?” Linda said.

Gene thoughtfully rubbed me stubble on his chin. “Good point. The castle's a big place, but maybe they have enough troops to block every portal. No telling."

“So, what do we do?"

Gene shrugged. “Keep moving until we find a good aspect, jump in, and hope the Bluefaces won't follow us."

“Back to square one,” Linda said. She thought awhile, then said, “How about we hide out in the wilder parts of the castle?"

Gene looked dubious.

Sheila asked, “What do you mean, Linda?"

Linda squatted and leaned against a pillar. “Well, some parts of the castle are stable, like the Guest areas. You know, like where the dining hall is? Around there. But other parts of the castle aren't so stable."

“In fact,” Gene said, “they're absolutely crazy."

Sheila nodded. Crazy. If what she'd already seen of the place was
sane ...
Ohmygawd.

“And dangerous,” Gene added. “But on second thought, not quite as dangerous, maybe, as what we're facing here."

“Maybe not,” Linda agreed. “I think it might be worth the risk."

“Isn't there some way of ... you know,
leaving
the castle?” Sheila asked. “Just going outside, the regular way?"

“There's not much out there,” Gene said. “We've been told that most of the people who live in these parts stay in the castle. I don't blame them. It's pretty bleak."

“Oh.” Sheila slumped against the cold stone of the wall.

Grunting voices came from the right.

“Let's move,” Gene said calmly.

They ran from the voices, but made it only a short way down the corridor before hearing echoing footsteps ahead. They took the left branch of the nearest intersection, sprinted to the next crossing, stopped, and looked both ways before going on.

Voices behind them, now voices in front again. They backtracked and went left, ran and then dashed right, only to hear the flapping steps of flat, webbed feet everywhere they turned.

“It's no use,” Gene said, stopping for breath. “Linda, you gotta use your magic. We have to go either up or down in a hurry."

“Stairs?"

“No, something faster!"

“What? I can't think of anything that wouldn't be mechanical, like an elevator or something."

Grunting sounds came from the left, then, after a moment, from behind.

“Think!” Gene whispered hoarsely.

Linda closed her eyes. A soft popping sound came from behind Gene, and he turned to look. A neatly cut hole had appeared in the stone floor. A shiny brass pipe, about three inches in diameter, ran from the ceiling down through the hole.

“A firehouse pole?” Gene shrugged. “Hey, why not? Let's go."

Gene was first. He slid out of sight quickly, and Linda followed.

“Let's go, little girl,” Snowclaw urged gently.

Sheila leaned out, grabbed the pole, and jumped, locking her legs around the slippery brass shaft. The drop was heart-stoppingly fast, and only frantic contractions of her leg muscles finally slowed her. Despite her best efforts, she landed hard on her buttocks.

Gene dragged her up. “Again,” he ordered Linda.

“Again?"

“Down another floor. Can't you hear them up there?"

Linda whipped up another pole as Snowclaw dropped down and corroborated, “They're coming!"

They all slipped down the new fire pole. This time Sheila was determined to land on her feet, and she did.

“Again,” Gene said.

They dropped four levels in all before Gene realized it was useless.

“They're simply following us down,” he said. “We're just not thinking, gang."

Linda said, “Then we're sunk. I can't make things disappear.” She blinked, then smiled. “But I can make a ladder!"

The hole appeared, as before, but this time a wooden ladder angled up from it. They clambered down one by one. On the lower level. Gene and Snowclaw slid the bottom of the ladder across the flagstone until the upper end slipped out of the hole above. The ladder clattered to the floor.

They repeated this procedure three more times before coming to a quiet level.

Gene looked up. “Linda, I want you to conjure a sort of thing that looks like a drain stopper, but made out of heavy stone, one just big enough to plug that hole up there."

“A drain stopper?"

“Imagine a big heavy thing like a stone mushroom, with the stem plugging the hole."

“Got you."

The bottom of the plug fit neatly flush with the ceiling.

“Good job. I don't think they'll be able to lift that thing very easily."

“Great idea, Gene,” Linda said.

“Should have come up with it sooner. But when you're on the run, it's hard to be creative."

“Man, you gotta think fast in this place!” Sheila said breathlessly.

“Even more so, down here,” Gene told her. “Stay close, and watch your step."

“What's down here?"

“Expect the unexpected."

“Like ... what, exactly?"

Bright daylight flooded the corridor. Sheila whirled and beheld what looked at first like a movie screen, except that the images were three-dimensional. Then her mind made the connection that this was some sort of opening that had suddenly appeared. Through the rectangular portal lay a short expanse of white beach, leading to foaming breakers. The surf was close, very close. In fact...

“You better get back, Sheila,” Gene said.

She watched, transfixed, as a swell rose up, rode in, and broke very near the opening. Sheila squealed and backstepped as the surf foamed through the portal and across the floor, slopping over her shoes.

She squished down the corridor to where the others had sought dry floor. They were smiling at her.

“I see what you mean,” Sheila said.

“Is that your first wild aspect?” Gene asked. “Strange, isn't it? The aspects you see through the windows aren't so startling. You look out and see weird things, but somehow, the window comfortably frames it. But when you see an aspect pop out of nowhere like that—"

“It kind of blows your mind,” Sheila said, nodding gravely. “Why are they called aspects?"

“Just a term that's used around here. They're called aspects, portals, gateways ... other things."

Suddenly the sunlight faded, and the sound of breakers stopped abruptly. They all turned to find that the portal had vanished.

“There it goes,” Gene said, “just as mysteriously as it appeared."

Sheila shook her head slowly. “Where
was
that place? That ocean?"

“It could have been the beach at Malibu,” Gene told her. “Or somewhere on the Gold Coast of Africa. But I looked, and I didn't see anything out there that would lead me to believe it was a way back to Earth. It could have been any one of tens of thousands of worlds. Probably a deserted planet, somewhere, in an uninhabited star system a billion light-years from—” He shrugged. “Wherever."

“Was the one I fell through like that?” Sheila asked.

“Probably. Just like the ones we blundered through."

Sheila stared off into the darkness. “Maybe it actually was a way back. Back home."

“We'll never know, Sheila. Best not to think about it. We're stranded here, in this world, this castle. You'd better start getting used to the notion of being here for a while."

Sheila grunted ironically. “A while? You mean for the rest of my life.” Brow knitted, she massaged her bottom lip between her teeth. Then, murmuring to herself: “But I really didn't have much of a life, did I?"

Gene said, “I'm sorry. What did you say?"

Sheila took a deep breath and turned around. “Nothing. Nothing at all."

Gene smiled at her. “Don't worry. In time, you'll actually get to like it here. I look at it as sort of an extended vacation. Two weeks in August that never seem to end. But at some point it will, it must. A gateway will pop up in front of us, leading right into Times Square, and the vacation will be over. It'll be September, time to go back to school. Or to a new job."

Sheila studied him clinically. He wasn't a bad-looking fellow, rather tall, with curly dark brown hair and gray-green eyes. Not bad over all, except that she would never have given him a second look on the street, or in a bar. He had a boyish, immature way about him, even though he talked very well and sounded educated. She liked him. “You really believe we'll get back someday, don't you?"