Shadewell Shenanigans (15 page)

“Oh,” Gape said, sounding disappointed. “Nothing special, then.”

“I think it’s pretty incredible, actually,” said Loogie defensively. “If I’d found out I could travel anywhere in Illmoor simply by sticking a metal rod on a map and climbing into a coffin with a collar round my neck, I’d be well amazed. Still, that’s people for you, isn’t it? I suppose nothing impresses barbarians.”

The head finished its incessant chatter and looked up. Groan and Gape were both staring at it with incredulous expressions.

“Do you want to go through that again,
slowly
?” said Gordo slowly.

“It’s just one straight tunnel,” General Crikey said, pointing to the map he’d laid out on the keep’s rarely used war table. He hadn’t had a wink of sleep all night, and was eager to retrieve the troublesome princess as soon as possible. “We could send soldiers in at either end; cut them off. We can easily reach the outer entrance before they can.”

“No,” said Pegrand, shaking his head. “We can’t risk any harm to the duke.”

Crikey rolled his tired eyes. He still couldn’t quite work out why he was taking orders from the duke’s manservant, but then, it
had
been a strange night.

“Then what, may I ask, do
you
suggest?”

Pegrand thought for a moment before replying. Then he rubbed his tired eyes, sucked in some air, and laid both hands flat on the map.

“Well,” he began, pursing his lips for effect, “we could go in at either end, cut them off.”

Crikey rolled his eyes. “But that’s what I just said!”

“Yes, but I meant just you, me, and a couple of guards.”

“Fine.”

Crikey strode across to the room’s giant gong and sounded a deafening tone. After a few minutes, the two guards who’d trailed Stump to the river the previous day, came sauntering through the door.

Pegrand frowned at them. “Are you the only soldiers in the city, or something?”

They shrugged.

“We’re the only two not guarding the wall,” said one.

“Does it matter?” Crikey protested. “You wanted a couple of guards; here they are.”

Pegrand nodded. “Very good,” he said. “Now, I want you three to wait at this end of the tunnel. I’ll go in from the outer wall end and drive them back toward you.”

Crikey looked confused. “Us three,” he said. “You mean you’re going into the tunnel alone?”

“Oh, no,” Pegrand said, shaking his head. “I’m going in with the duke’s dog.”

There was a sudden outbreak of muffled laughter.

“You can’t be serious,” Crikey said, a twisted smile on his face. “You’re putting three fully armed men at
this
end of the tunnel as a blockade—”

“That’s right.”

“And
you
expect to be able to drive the princess and her father back toward
us
?”

“Got it in one.”

“The princess has a dagger, and the king’s probably picked up all manner of knives in the lower kitchen. You genuinely believe they’ll run from a dog?”

“Oh, yes,” said Pegrand. “They’ll run, all right.”

“Are you out of your
mind
?” Gape exclaimed. “This thing looks like it hasn’t been used in a hundred years!”

“It’s probably been a bit more than that,” Loogie suggested. “Most of Craven’s subjects thought it was a bit arcane.”

Gordo shrugged, then turned to his companions and angrily threw down his axe. “Look,” he snapped. “Do you two want to win the damn princess or not?”

There was an awkward silence.

“Well?”

“Yes.”

“I s’pose.”

“Then what are we waiting for? If we can get this whatsitcalled working, we can jump in and transport ourselves!”

“Where to?”

“To Kazbrack,” the dwarf screamed. “To Fastrush Pass, to Windlass Eyrie!”

There was a vague murmur of agreement.

“It’s probably still in working order,” said Loogie encouragingly. “But if you ask me—”

“Just tell us how it works!”

“I did!”

Gordo wrenched the head from his belt and stared it in the eye.

“Specifically.”

“Ah, right. I see what you mean. Turn me ’round, and I’ll have a look.”

Gordo twisted the head, gripping a tuft of hair between his thumb and forefinger.

“Right,” said Loogie, when the room had stopped spinning. “Now listen carefully, because I’m working from memory, here. Okay, you see the big map of Illmoor on the far wall?”

Gape raised his torch, and the map appeared.

“That’s the one; there should be three iron pointers attached to it. You need to place those on the different places you want to go.”

Gordo put the head on a nearby bench, then wandered over to the map, climbed onto a dust-covered chair, and began to rearrange the markers.

“Good going,” Loogie said. “Now, you should find three iron collars in the chest over by the wall. You put those on before you climb into the coffins. They’ll bring you back after exactly one hour. The levers you need to pull to get the whole thing started are just inside the lids. Got it?”

Gordo nodded. “Loud and clear,” he said, turning to the Teethgrit brothers. “How about you two?”

“Yes,” said Gape.

Groan nodded. “I ain’t as stoopid as you fink,” he rumbled.

“I’ll see you both in Kazbrack, then,” said Gape, locking his torch onto the wall bracket beside the map.

“Wait a minute …”

“What?”

Gape scratched a hairy eyebrow. “Shouldn’t we get the chicken’s ring, first?”

Gordo looked back toward the longest staircase in Illmoor.

“After you,” he said.

“Fine,” said Gape. “We’ll get it later. I just thought I’d mention it, that’s all.”

Gordo handed out the collars, and the three of them climbed wearily into the coffins, pulling the lids closed behind them.

There was a series of clicks, then silence. After a time, a dull and monotonous hum began to resound in the room. The machines beside each coffin pulsated with ancient energy. Suddenly, the chamber (and, unbeknownst to Loogie, the entire pyramid) was flooded with light.

Then, just as swiftly, it was gone, leaving the small chamber bathed in flickering torchlight.

The new silence was pierced by a loud creak, and the lid to Gordo’s coffin swung open.

The dwarf stuck out his head. “Am I in Kazbrack?”

“If you are, it’s very similar to Wemeru,” said Loogie gloomily.

“Damn it!” Gordo barked, as Groan and Gape emerged from their individual coffins. “Does anything in this place work?”

“Hey, it was
your
idea,” said the head. “If it’s any consolation, you put all the markers in different places.”

Gordo shrugged, unlocking his collar and throwing it to the floor.

“So?”

“So, the three of you would have gone to three separate places!”

“And you didn’t think to tell us that before we climbed in?”

“I couldn’t see the map, with your fat head in the way!”

“Will you two stop whining at each other?” Gape said, casting off his own collar and heading for the door. “The whole thing was a stupid idea anyway. As far as I’m concerned, there are two ways to go somewhere: by horse or by foot. Now, are we going to argue all day, or are we going to find this chicken?”

“Oi,” Groan called from across the room. “Why can’t I get this damn collar off me neck?”

Zombie chickens, the party discovered, were pretty much like ordinary chickens. The only difference being, they pecked less.

Groan clambered over the barrier and wandered among the fowl, kicking several out of the way as he progressed toward the henhouse that Loogie had indicated. He was in a very bad mood; nobody had been able to prize the collar from his neck, and now it looked, to all intents and purposes, as if he were stuck with it.

“A little way to your left!” Loogie was shouting. “That’s it! One of the compartments should have a crown above it.”

Gape and Gordo hurried after the giant barbarian, arriving at the correct cubbyhole just as Groan spotted it.

Sure enough, there was a chicken squawking inside, and right as mustard, it had a tiny crown on its head. The henhouse looked old, but paled in comparison to the chicken. Even Count Craven had looked young compared to the chicken.

Loogie almost wept when he saw the creature, and was positively distraught when Groan—having turned the chicken upside down a few times—jammed a finger up its behind.

“What’re you doing!” the head exclaimed.

“Checkin’ for rings,” Groan muttered. He rooted around for a while, then let the good lady fall to the grass. She peered up at them, bleary-eyed, then strutted toward the shadowy end of the coop.

“No ring, eh?” Gape ventured, studying Groan’s blank expression just in case his brother had palmed it. “Maybe it’s hidden in—”

“There is no ring.” Groan and Gape both turned to consider Gordo, who reached for Loogie’s head and rested it on his forearm.

“Are you listening to that
thing
again?” Gape ventured, indicating the head with his thumb. “Because I for one am getting sick and tired of—”

“Shut up.”

“Listen—”

“You ’eard ’im.”

Gape stared at Groan’s serious expression and was about to laugh, when he thought better of it.

“Supposing there really is no
ring,
” Gordo suggested, staring up at them both with a worried brow.

“At last, some sense!” said the head of Loogie. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for the last three hours!”

“Go on,” said Gape dubiously.

Gordo shrugged and peered down at his cranial companion. “Remember when you were telling us about your days in Dullitch, and what an expert you were in legendary lost treasures?”

“Yes. I’m glad you were listen—”

“Well, what are you like on geography?”

Loogie grinned. “Superb. I’ve got three dip—”

“We’re not interested in your qualifications, Loogie,” Gordo reasoned. “We’re interested in your
knowledge.
”

The head tried to nod. “No problem,” it said. “Fire away!”

Gordo glanced from the head, to Groan, and back again. “Have you ever heard of a place called Windlass Eyrie?” he asked.

“’Course.”

“Kazbrack?”

“Naturally.”

“Fastrush Pass?”

“Hmm … yes, yes I have.”

“Well”—Gordo suddenly gritted his teeth—“WHY THE BLOODY HELL DIDN’T YOU SAY SOMETHING EARLIER?”

“I told you I had six medals fro—”

“You didn’t tell us you knew about all the spittin’ quest locations!”

“You didn’t ask!”

“Didn’t ask?” Gordo boggled at him. “You do realize that if the coffin machine had worked, we’d have been halfway across the continent by now!”

“Yeah,” Groan added. “An’ I wouldn’ ’ave a choker wrapped ’round me neck.”

Loogie sniffed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Maybe I was a bit resentful. I mean, after all, you
did
cut my head off. That sort of thing can really make you
biased.
”

Gordo rolled his eyes. “Are you going to tell us something useful or not?”

Loogie sucked in his bottom lip. “Which one do you want to know about first?”

“Windlass Eyrie.”

“Hmm, that’s watched—”

“Twenty-four hours a day by the harpies of Narrow Death Rise, yes, we know that, but have you ever heard of a legendary treasure chest being buried up there?”

Loogie thought for a moment.

“Definitely not,” he said. “In fact, I’m fairly sure that there’s no record of a treasure chest being buried anywhere in the Finion Mountains. If there is, it’s one the society didn’t know about—I spent six months filing all their maps for them. It’s certainly not a
legendary
treasure.”

“What about the Idol of Needs?” Gape demanded.

The head tried to nod, and almost toppled. “Now, that
does
exist,” it said. “Of course, it turned out to be just a flask full of water: a bit of an irony, considering that water is really all you ‘needs’ to survive. Ha-ha-ha! Anyway, it was found by the society during the later part of the Dual Age and taken to Legrash. I think it’s in a glass case or something.”

Groan’s giant brows knitted together.

“So it’s definitely not in Kazbrack, then?” Gordo prompted.

“Kazbrack?” the head exclaimed. “Good gods, no. There’s nothing in Kazbrack except hordes of great big bloodthirsty demons. That island’s an absolute hellhole, the sort of place you send people if you don’t want them to come back.”

“What ’bout the dragon?” Groan boomed. “That livin’?”

Gordo explained the legend of Torche to Loogie Lambontroff.

The head pursed its lips. “Hmm … never having heard much about Fastrush Pass, I couldn’t say for sure,” it admitted. “But I’d be pretty surprised if any dragon turned out to have jeweled eyes. How would it see, for goodness’ sake?”

Gordo nodded, took two deep breaths, and looked around at Groan and Gape.

“Well, I don’t know about you,” he said. “But I’m very, very angry.”

K
ING PHEW PROGRESSED ALONG
the low tunnel, his head slightly bowed and his torch thrust out in front of him. Susti brought up the rear, her knife still pressed firmly against Modeset’s throat.

“How much longer?” she moaned, trying to peer over the duke’s shoulder at the receding shape of her father.

“A few more twists and turns,” the king admitted. “These passages can be a maze, my darling.”

“You’re making a big mistake, Phew,” said Modeset, grimacing as the knife edge dug in. “As soon as the other rulers find out—”

“Yes, I’ve been thinking about that,” said the king reflectively. “And I’m not sure they
would
take your side, considering that most of them hate and despise you. I know that Curfew’s your cousin, but didn’t you execute his mother before all that business with the virgin sacrifices? He can’t have forgotten that, surely?”

Modeset didn’t say anything, but the king could hear him muttering under his breath.

“Father, I—”

“Shhh!” King Phew came to an abrupt stop, then turned to face Susti and put a finger to his lips. “There’s someone coming! Go back!”

“We can’t go back!” the princess protested. “The guards will be waiting for us at that end!”