Kaavl Conspiracy (9 page)

Methusal sharpened each of her senses. The plateau, a minute run away, sharpened into focus. Every tiny detail became crisp and clear.

Her hearing fanned out like a net. The guard’s breaths blasted as loud as the north wind into her ears, and overhead
swooshed
the precise, powerful strokes of flying beast wings. Other sounds infiltrated, too; the slither of a whip beast twenty lengths south, and to the east, tagma leaves rustled in the strengthening breeze.

It was difficult to track so many noises at one time. Methusal couldn’t possibly keep track of them all. Her goal was to follow three systems at once. Two was a challenge, and three a stretch—but the skill was a needed advantage if she wanted to win the Tri-Level Game.

As usual, she found it easier to track noises originating equal distances away. Tracking near and far sounds at the same time seemed impossibly difficult. She focused, and tried again and again.

After long moments of concentration, she managed to hear the guard’s breathing and follow the movements of an apte forty lengths west at the same time. Other sounds intruded, but she struggled to keep her concentration.

The guard wandered outside, and the apte scampered closer. Methusal struggled to pick up a third sound—a flying beast overhead. It seemed utterly impossible, but she tried harder, again and again. And then, for one split second, she did it. Unfortunately, the success faded before she could remember how she’d done it.

Her frustration grew the longer she sat on the chair. She needed to run. Not just for speed and endurance, but also to integrate her long and short distance kaavl skills. She’d need that edge to win the Tri-level. How could she possibly win against Behran otherwise?

She
had
to get outside.

Her kaavl concentration broke, and Methusal drew a calming breath. She needed to clear her name first. Time to find the ore mine.

When Methusal stood, the paper Kitran had given her crinkled in her pocket. Great. She’d forgotten to practice his suggestions. Tomorrow, she promised herself. Right now, she needed to find Aali.

* * * * *

Methusal examined the rough squiggles that Aali had drawn on the parchment, and clutched the worn key in her hand. Few keys were used in Rolban, since few locks had been made, so this would only be the third time in her life that she’d use a key. Apparently, she needed to go north and then east, past her living compartment, and then deeper into the mountain. She counted the forks in the halls to reach the ore passage, and then committed the directions to memory and pushed the paper into her pocket.

She’d explored all of the main passageways multiple times as a child, of course. But she’d never been down any of the locked passageways. Quick steps brought her to the door. She concentrated into kaavl, and listened for movement on the other side.

Nothing. The key inserted silently, and she pushed down the polished lever and slipped into the secret passageway. Ahead, the hall curved right.

Footsteps whispered thirty lengths down the hall. Her heart beat faster, but she pressed on. What should she say, if questioned? Why hadn’t she thought of this earlier? And then she remembered Aali and the guards, and quickly came up with a thin explanation for being in the hall. In other words, a twisting of the truth. She hated lying, and felt sick at the thought of doing so now. But she had to get to the ore mine.

The twisting passageway grew narrower, and the footsteps louder.

A council member approached. His bald head gleamed in the light of the fire sconces. He blocked her path. “Why are you here, Methusal?”

“My father has a message. Have you seen Timaeus?”

“Can’t say. You could ask Pogul, though.” The man seemed satisfied with her response. “He’s a little further on.”

“Thank you.” Sharpening her hearing, Methusal moved on, but she heard no one else. From the man’s words, however, it appeared that Pogul was the first guard in the ore passageway. Pogul would know Timaeus wasn’t there. And she guessed the unpleasant young man would take great delight in escorting her out of the area. On the other hand, he wasn’t the brightest star in the sky. Could she fool him with a simple trick?

Pogul’s whistling breaths assaulted her ears long before she reached him. Was he snoring? She heard a snort, and then a rustle of movement. No.

She paused.

Ahead, the passageway curved right, and she pinpointed Pogul’s location by the sound of his heavy breaths, and an
odd
whump
ing noise. He was two lengths ahead. She list
ened carefully for footsteps.

None.

She tiptoed to the curve and peered around the corner. Pogul sat slumped against the wall near the mouth of another passageway. The ore hall. Over and over again, he banged his head against the rock wall.

What was that about?

Boredom, most likely. He needed a little excitement, and Methusal was only too pleased to provide it. She scanned the passageway for loose pebbles. A few lay scattered here and there, and she gathered them up.

She flung one pebble after another down the hall, past Pogul. His head snapped right, tracking the tiny, clicking noises. His heavy brows knit in irritation, and he lumbered to his feet.

Methusal smothered a giggle. She lobbed another rock over his head. It skittered farther down the dimly lit passage. Pogul frowned harder. He looked left, then right, and strode after the suspicious sounds.

Methusal sprinted into the hall that Pogul had been guarding. Since she wasn’t sure where the next guard was stationed, she sharpened her hearing and ran to gain the first curve in the hall. Pogul might glance down this ore hall, but he probably wouldn’t investigate further.

There. She’d safely passed the first curve, and was out of Pogul’s view. She paused. Where was the next guard?

The silence told her nothing.

Cautiously, Methusal continued on. She approached a stone stool. A plate with crumbs sat beside it, as well as an empty cup. The second guard’s station, she deduced.

Warily, she continued on. Faint voices finally tickled her ears. Three men. She paused, and scanned the hallway for a place to hide, should it become necessary. No concealing crevices or dips in the wall were to be found. The voices grew louder, and her heart accelerated.

Great! Now what should she do? Retreat? Or continue? If she continued, would she find a doorway or a crevice in which she could hide?

Methusal elected to go on. Whether that was foolhardy or courageous, she wasn’t sure. A few lengths ahead, the passageway cut sharply right. The voices grew louder. The men were just around the next bend.

Would she be caught so easily? Anxiously, Methusal crept closer to the corner. They’d catch her. How would she explain her presence in this restricted passageway?

And then she saw it. A shallow indentation in the rock, just before the turn in the hall. She slipped into the hollow. However, even scrunching flat against the wall, it barely sheltered her. Anyone coming from the south would see her, but the outcropping shielded her from the men approaching from the north.

A lone young man sauntered by, picking at his teeth. He was one of Behran’s friends. She stood completely still, hoping he wouldn’t look behind him. The voices to the north fell silent.

She listened for footsteps. They grew fainter. Were they retreating to the ore mine?

She couldn’t stay here much longer. Once the guard sat down, he’d spot her.

Gathering her courage, she slithered around the outcropping and turned the next corner of the hall. Up ahead, the passage jogged left. Caution slowed her steps, and she scanned for crevices in which to hide, should the men return. There were none.

Silently, she crept to the next curve in the passage.

If only she could carry with vision. Then she wouldn’t have to poke her head around the corner and risk being discovered. But since she had no idea how to perform that kaavl skill, she had no choice.

Methusal peeked around the corner, and then quickly withdrew. Her heart slammed in her chest. A lone man guarded a closed door. This was it! It had to lead to the ore mine.

The guard had looked grim. Wide awake, too. How in the world could she investigate the ore mine? And where had the second man gone?

Peering out again, she sized up the guard. He was probably Verdnt’s age, and likely the senior guard. He was a big man, with dark hair and thick muscles. She’d seen him often in the dining hall, but it took a few seconds to recall his name―Vogl. He’d immigrated from Tarst a few years back.

Methusal flattened her back against the wall. Now what? Security was tight, but up until now, not too difficult to overcome. Getting inside the ore deposits, however, looked impossible. Only someone with authorized access could get past this guard, barring physical force. So the thief had to be one of a limited number of people.

Wasn’t that what she’d wanted to know? Now she just needed to discover who those people were.

Retreating now seemed like the prudent plan.

Still, Methusal hesitated. She’d made it this far undiscovered,
and now curiosity about the mysterious mine plagued her. If only she could catch a glimpse inside. To do that, though, she’d need to neutralize the guard. Not likely. If the heavy muscles in his neck and arms were any indication, he’d squash her like a bug.

Reluctantly, she decided to retreat. Before she could move, however, the mysterious door creaked open. She peered around the corner again, and then jerked back.

Behran
. What was he doing here? He wasn’t a guard, so he must be working on the water systems. Did they pass through the ore mine?

Now she really did need to escape. Methusal slipped back down the hall, heading for the concealing outcropping.

“Thanks,” Behran said. “See you later.” His moccasins whispered into the passage.

Methusal sprinted to gain the last protective crevice. But before reaching it, she glanced around the corner. The guard’s eyes were shut. Good. She spun around the corner and into the protective alcove. Now, if only Behran wouldn’t notice her, and the guard kept his eyes closed…

Her heart pounded. She felt vaguely sick.

Calm down. Take deep breaths. It’ll be okay.

She’d taken two deep breaths when Behran turned the corner. Instinctively, she held her breath and froze. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would help matters.

A touch at her arm made her gasp. Behran’s blue eyes gleamed at her. A firm grip pulled her from her hiding place. To her surprise, he marched her past the dozing guard. Once they’d rounded the next corner, though, he stopped and released her arm.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

“I’m doing research.”

“Research?” He moved closer. “On how to steal ore?”

She couldn’t believe her ears. “I am not the thief!”

“Looks pretty suspicious to me.”

“I’m investigating,” she hissed.

“And what did you discover?”

She lifted her chin. “You’re here. Maybe you’re the thief.”

He laughed quietly. “I have authorized access. Should I turn out my pockets to prove it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Well, you accused me…”

“I want to get out of here.”

He flashed a mocking grin. “I’m sure you do. But how? Do you have a plan?”

“Of course… Sort of.” Unfortunately, she hadn’t clearly thought
out a retreat plan, although being careful seemed the prudent
choice. Meeting Behran had only complicated matters.

“I’ll need to report you to Pogul.”

“Of course. You’d love for me to get in more trouble. That way you won’t have to compete against me at the Tri-level. Afraid?”

He continued to smile. “Doesn’t look like I have much to worry about.”

Methusal heaved an angry breath. “This
isn’t
the Kaavl Games.”

“Real life is so much crueler, isn’t it?”

“This isn’t like the Kaavl Games at all!”

“Think what you want. Now come on.”

Methusal had no choice. She walked abreast of him, refusing to follow him like a conquered beast. He loved this, of course. As usual, one step above her. “Why do you have to be such a whip?”

“You brought this on yourself. You didn’t think through your plan. Now I’m stuck. If I don’t report you, I’ll get in trouble.”

“No.”

“No? I could let you creep out of the hall after me. But what if you’re caught? Am I supposed to lie, and say I didn’t see you? No one would believe that. I’d be accused of conspiracy.”

Methusal hadn’t thought about that. But she still didn’t like her position—captured, as it were, by Behran. And now Pogul would report her illegal activities to Petr.

At that very moment, the stocky young man stepped into the hallway. Oh, goodie.

“Methusal!” His lips curled. “How did you get in that hall?

“It wasn’t hard.”

Pogul grabbed her arm. “I’m turning you in.” His fingers hurt.

Behran raised a hand. “Hold on.” He turned to Methusal. “Haven’t you been practicing kaavl?”

“Yes…”

“As you can see, she lost to me,” Behran told Pogul. “Don’t humiliate her further.”

“She doesn’t belong in there. I’m reporting her to Petr.”

“Go ahead,” Methusal agreed. “I’ll tell him how easy it was. In fact, I’ll say you left your post so I could walk right in. How would he like that?”

Ugly rage radiated from Pogul. “You little…” He worked his thick lips. “You’d better watch your back.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to be anywhere alone with you.”

Behran gripped her arm and directed her down the main hall. “Thanks, Pogul. See you later.”

Pogul didn’t respond.

Behran hissed, “Think that was smart?”

“Yes. I had to scare him, or he’d report me to Petr.”

“A little harsh, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” Methusal admitted. “But I don’t like him. He’s always lewd and rude in class. By the way, thank you for helping me.”