Songreaver (29 page)

Garrett's hand went to his satchel, feeling
for his essence flask.

Mrs. Kurtz however interposed her solid body
between him and the angry man.

"You're lucky I don't fire you on the spot
for such laziness!" the man shouted, "As it is, I'm gonna be forced
to dock yer pay for it! I..."

"Lucky?" Mrs. Kurtz roared, "You dare call
anyone that has to work for you twenty years lucky!"

The man's face went blank, and he looked
suddenly, bewilderingly afraid.

"You're the lucky one, Mister Branch," she
shouted, "Lucky that so many good, solid women pull your weight
through this sorry world. You're lucky no one's drowned you in the
kettle when you're too drunk to stop 'em!"

Mr. Branch's eyes bulged.

"Lucky!" Mrs. Kurtz spat, "You've got no
idea..." She grabbed her daughter's hand and dragged her from the
shop. She spared Garrett only a nod and an honest, "Thank you," on
her way out the door.

Garrett and Mr. Branch stood together in the
doorway and watched them go. The two women paused only long enough
to toss their aprons in the laundry kettle before disappearing into
the crowd.

"Well, I'll be..." Mr. Branch gaped. He
turned to Garrett and asked, "Who the hell are you?"

Garrett grinned and touched the trim of his
hood. He said nothing as he stepped out into the street.

He found Caleb and Marla waiting for him in
the alleyway. A hint of a smile played on Caleb's bloodless
lips.

Garrett looked at the sky. It was starting to
get dark. "Ready to go?" he asked.

Caleb lifted his hand and laid it on
Garrett's shoulder. He let out a grateful groan.

"Let's go home," Garrett said.

****

"Thanks for helping me find Caleb," Garrett
said as he held the attic door open for Marla.

She stepped out onto the little balcony on
the roof of Uncle Tinjin's house and looked up and down the length
of Vaaste Street in the pink glow of dusk. She breathed in the cool
night air and leaned out over the black iron rail to peer down at
the people hurrying past below. "You didn't really need my help,
Garrett," she said.

He joined her at the railing, touching
shoulders. "I don't know," he said, "everything just seems...
easier when you're around."

She smiled at him.

Garrett looked out across the rooftops toward
the brooding mass of Mount Padras, looming like a great shadow
beyond the gray haze. He struggled for a moment with his doubt, and
then he spoke.

"I want to set Lampwicke free," he said.

It hung there between them like an
accusation. Marla's eyes fell.

"Garrett... you know there isn't..."

"No," he interrupted, "I think I've found a
way."

Marla's eyes lifted again, questioning.

"Have you ever heard of the
Songreaver?
" he asked.

Marla looked thoughtful. "He was the human
king who took the city from the elves," she said.

"Yeah," Garrett said, "and I think I know
where he's buried... here in the city."

Marla shook her head. "What does this have to
do with your fairy?" she asked.

"I think he knew a way to break spells, like
the one you used to keep Lampwicke in her cage," Garrett said,
turning to face her as he stepped away from the rail.

"And you think the secret was buried with
him?"

"Yeah... maybe," he said, "Anyway, if there's
a chance that it was... I've got to try."

Marla stepped back, her hands folded
together. "Garrett," she said, "the
Songreaver
was a
terrible person. He killed thousands of people. Why would you want
to be anything like him?"

"Just because he used magic to do bad stuff,
doesn't mean that the magic is bad!" Garrett said, "Maybe if he'd
been a good person, he would have used that magic to help
people."

"Garrett, if he's been buried this long, and
no one has ever found his secrets, isn't it possible that either
they are lost forever... or that they are too dangerous to seek
out?"

"Or maybe the secret is just waiting for
someone to look in the right place," Garrett said.

"And you think you know where to look?" she
asked.

Garrett forced a smile. "Maybe," he said,
"there's just one problem... I have to find a way to get down a
really deep hole... I mean
really
deep."

Marla pursed her lips. "Is it more than
fifteen hundred feet deep?" she asked.

"I dunno, why?" Garrett said.

"Because that's all the rope that Mother and
I carry in our climbing kits," she said.

"You have climbing kits?" Garrett said.

Marla nodded. "You have to climb to reach the
roosting ledges of the
Lambent Cliffdarter
," she said, "They
weave their nests of an essence-infused mucus that will glow
vibrantly for many years. The colors vary, depending on the
atmospheric conditions during the mating season. Mother and I
collect the old nests to be woven into thread or boiled for soup.
The Zhadeen think it promotes longevity."

"Mucus soup?" Garrett gagged, "Does it really
make you live longer?"

Marla shrugged. "I don't know," she said,
"but they are willing to pay quite a lot in the hopes that it
does."

"What does it taste like?"

"I'm told that it is very salty," she
said.

"Wait, so you can help me climb down the hole
and have a look around?" Garrett asked.

Marla smiled. "I'd love to," she said.

The sound of clattering essence flasks echoed
from the walls of the subterranean roundhouse. Warren, Scupp, and
Diggs all wore bandoliers of essence canisters across their shaggy
chests. Diggs wore two. Garrett had settled for a rugged backpack,
containing two flasks of essence, a water skin, three torches, and
the leather-bound kit of tomb-robbing tools that Cenick had given
him years ago. He had foregone his usual robes in favor of the
sturdy tunic and leggings that Marla had suggested but insisted on
wearing a thick woolen hood.

Marla frowned when she saw it.

"In case it's cold down there," he said.

She rolled her eyes as she continued to
unpack the three long spools of black rope that she had brought
down with her. She pulled a tangled mass of straps and buckles from
her stained duffle bag as well. A number of small glowing blue
beetles crawled out of the bag as she did. "I guess it's been a
while since we used this," she said.

"Do you think it will still hold our weight?"
Warren asked.

Marla shrugged. "It will hold mine," she
said.

"That's very reassuring!" Warren
grumbled.

Marla grinned. "It's fine, Warren," she said,
"Mother and I once used this rope to haul a dead cave troll to the
surface... well, most of him anyway. His glands were still intact.
I would guess that the body weighed at least as much as you and
Diggs together."

"Did you tell your mom what we were doing?"
Garrett asked.

"I told her that I was giving you climbing
lessons," Marla said, "I left out the part about robbing the tomb
of a long-dead tyrannical madman, but she does know our entry
point, so, if we're gone for too long, she'll send help."

"Oh, that's good," Garrett said, trying to
sound like he meant it. He hoped the other vampires wouldn't become
involved in any of this.

Marla finished emptying the bag and frowned.
"I thought we had more spare harnesses," she said, "I only have
three in total. Even if I go without, one of you will have to stay
behind."

Diggs made a sputtering noise. "I don't need
one!" he said, "Ghouls is natural climbers."

Scupp scowled at her brother. "
I'll
take one," she said.

Marla smiled and crossed the floor to help
fit Scupp into one of the leather harnesses. The fit proved a bit
tight, but Scupp was able to squeeze her lean frame into it.

Warren eyed the harness with distaste. "You
got anything a bit... larger?" he asked.

Marla sighed, holding up a harness in front
of her. "They're sized for my mother and I. If we had more time, I
could have something made."

Warren shook his head. "No thanks," he said,
"I can climb pretty well without any help."

She carried the harness to where Garrett
stood and instructed him to take off his backpack and stand with
his arms out and legs slightly apart. He held his breath as she
cinched the straps tightly around his chest and hips, and let it
out with a nervous giggle when she looped two of the straps between
his legs and tightened them into place. She tugged at the metal
rings on the front of the harness and seemed pleased with the
fit.

"I guess I'll use the last one," she said,
looking at the male ghouls, "if you're really sure you don't want
to try it."

Diggs shrugged. "Warren says this pit is
bottomless," he said, "so, if we fall, we should just come out on
the other side of the world, right?"

Scupp stared at him, incredulously.

"Ah... I don't think it works that way,"
Marla said.

"Whatever. Let's go. I'm bored," Diggs
said.

Marla pulled off her gray poncho, revealing
her close-fitting black leather garb beneath. She stepped through
the straps of her own harness and pulled the buckles tight.
"Garrett," she said, "can you help me with the back?" She turned
her back to him and lifted her hair with one hand, using her other
thumb to indicate a set of buckles along her spine that needed
tightening.

"Yeah," he said. He stepped forward, hands
trembling as he pulled the leather belt straps until they creaked,
being careful not to touch anything but the harness. "How's that?"
he asked, his voice a little hoarse.

Marla slipped her thumbs between the straps
and her body with some difficulty. "Perfect, thank you," she said.
She walked back to the gear pile and picked up a tool belt,
buckling it around her waist. A slender headband, with a small vial
of glowing essence affixed in the center, served as her light
source.

She spent the better part of the next half
hour looking for the best place to anchor her climbing rope. Diggs
and Warren passed the time with an epic game of
bone, meat, or
maggot
, though no one seemed to be keeping score.

At last, Marla hammered a series of ring
spikes into the floor and threaded her rope through them. She gave
the rope an experimental tug and seemed satisfied. She nudged the
first spool of rope over the edge of the pit and hefted the
remaining two coils over her head and shoulder. "All right," she
said, "Wait here for a few minutes while I see what things look
like down there."

Garrett and Scupp walked over to the edge and
watched her descend. Her little green light glistened against the
damp walls of the shaft and sparkled in the water falling down from
above on either side of her. Marla moved with confidence,
descending rapidly until she reached the end of the first rope,
nearly five hundred feet below. The sound of metallic hammering
echoed up the shaft for a few moments, and then Marla's light began
to descend once more, hardly more than a wavering firefly against
the blackness of the pit.

"Do you see anything?" Garrett yelled down
the pit.

A moment later, the faint answer came back,
"Nothing yet."

Soon, they could see nothing at all of
Marla's light, and Garrett began to worry.

Scupp sensed his tension and whispered,
"She'll be all right. She knows what she's doing."

Garrett nodded and gave her a thin smile.

More hammering, a faint echo from below.

"Marla!" Garrett called, but no answer came
from the pit.

Garrett groaned, pacing back and forth
between two channels at the edge of the pit.

"Did we bring any food?" Diggs asked, looking
up from his game.

Scupp shook her head.

Diggs frowned. "Garrett," he said, "when we
find this dead king... we get to eat him, right?"

"The guy's like a million years old," Warren
said, "He'd taste like moldy sandpaper."

Diggs looked heartbroken. "Why are we doing
this then?" he moaned.

"We're doing it for Garrett!" Scupp said, "So
quit your belly-aching!"

"But my belly actually aches," Diggs whined.
As if on cue, a loud grumble came from his furry middle.

Warren's stomach answered the call as well.
"Yeah, I didn't really think it would take this long," Warren
said.

"You two run back to town and get somethin'
to eat then!" Scupp said, "And bring me and Garrett somethin'
too... we'll likely be here a while."

"What's vampire girl eat?" Diggs asked,
already headed into the tunnel back to Marrowvyn.

Scupp looked at Garrett, but he shook his
head. "I dunno," she said, "Bring back somethin' juicy."

"Right!" Diggs said, bounding off into the
darkness with Warren close on his heels.

Scupp smiled and looked back to Garrett.
"That oughtta keep 'em busy a while," she said.

Garrett laughed.

"So," Scupp said, prodding Garrett in the
arm, "What's the story with little miss leatherpants down
there?"

"What do you mean?" Garrett asked.

"Why you so sweet on her?" Scupp asked, "She
seems a bit... twiggy."

"Huh?"

Scupp shrugged. "I dunno, seems like huggin'
on her would be like squeezin' an old dead branch... cold and hard
and afraid you're gonna break her."

"No," Garrett said, "she's... soft, and
really nice... her hair smells like... old flowers."

Scupp snorted with laughter. "Like a bunch o'
dried up roses?" she said.

"No!" Garrett said, "Just... she smells
nice."

Scupp chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't be sniffin'
at her too much when she crawls back outta
this
hole," she
said.

Garrett winced, imagining the amount of
wastewater that was pouring down all around Marla from above. At
least the heavy rains had kept the sewers relatively clean of
late.