The 6th of Six (The Legend of Kimraig Llu) (32 page)

“I knew it. I feel this place from my dreams. Just as I explained to Winnie and Tucker, this is not my first visit.” Adam remained tethered to his companion by a slight blue glow from her eyes.

“You did not explain anything, you were guessing.” Lilith replied absently. The sticky walls around them glowed with the energy of the retreating bubbles.

“That does not undermine the validity of my assumptions.”

“Okay, okay I am on boredom overload. I give.” She punched her companion playfully and turned to the stairs. “This place reminds me too much of where Old Crone found me.”

“Given your age, when you were traded to Winn, I do not believe you could possibly have memories of...” Adam gurgled when her hands shot from the dark to squeeze his throat and cover his mouth.

“One more word and I will screech in your ear, and then leave you in the dark.”

He felt her turn away as she let him go and saw only pitch black. For the briefest of seconds, he thought she meant it. Of course, she had only moved to the stairs, turned and let him see the glow from her eyes. He would never admit his relief, but she knew it was there.
Why am I the one to be afraid of the dark?
Adam complained.

Darkness covered them as they slid from the building. Only the faintest glow from the quarter moon—no help or hindrance for Lilith—as they followed the route Princely had pointed out from the top floor window that morning.

From that same window, the three of them had spied the preparation for the attack of Kimraig’s forces against the building One Nine. There was no chance they could meet with him, what with the tall black woman prowling around with her small force. Then Princely had spotted Boss with a large force of his folks slinking around in the rubble.

That was the end of Princely. He was determined to get some unknown thing done. All morning he sat fingering the blade of that long thin knife. As if a fly had bit him, that crazy look bloomed and he just jumped to his feet and disappeared.

Adam surmised he wanted to be with his own people where he would be more comfortable. Adam give it no more thought, since Princely had completed his commitment to them.

Reluctantly, they had to stay hidden while they witnessed the beginning of the battle for control of One Nine. They watched bubbles—maybe Ergot babies—screening Boss’s people from Kimraig. They watched the completion of the bridge after the attack. And Princely popping from the rubble just scant yards away, knapsack bobbing on his back, as he raced into the building. Then, only silence after a portion of the bridge disappeared and the area went silent.

Adam was spooked. Too many of Boss’s people filtering into the building in ones and twos for his liking. Lilith, of course, was not enthralled with a status quo. It was not two seconds before she was ready to resume the search for those people their parents called Our Friends.

“Why would we go, no one can see us here, Our Friends can wait,” Adam said, feeling it was perfectly clear there was more danger to him while moving than hiding, but he knew Lilith needed more. “My gut tells me these people are here to fight until they are all dead.”

“Kimraig is outnumbered at least two to one. We cannot deliver our message if they kill him. So, to clarify this for you, one plus two equals we go and contact Our Friends, make sure they know about this and see if they can help.” Lilith was not patient with her man this time.

“No friends. Home now. All you want is another fight and I get all worked up for nothing.”

Adam seldom took a stand, but damn if he was going to wade into one-sided fights.

“You are so charming when you come to my rescue, especially when you pound a couple of three Troopers into the ground.” Lilith was fighting to keep a straight face as she teased him.

“One time, it was a girl.”

“Not a girl, three almost grown women. All at one time to be exact, you knew they were better trained then you. They could have beaten you.” Lilith had to start his blood boiling if she wanted him to join her willingly. Telling him a female could best him would accomplish that.

In their youth, the floors of Lower level were in constant danger from marauding packs of young Queens-in-training using the children of the Little People as fair game—no longer.

She could hear him arguing with himself, remembering. He had taken them down one at a time as they surrounded her on the training quad taunting her small size. They had actually laughed as he charged them with his blunt spear—fools ready for easy sport. They tried to block him with those overlarge shields expecting their battle helmets to protect their exposed heads.

His faint with the blunt point of his spear directed at their eyes brought their shields up to block. He had cleared the ground with a wild jump smashing into the middle shield and upsetting their balance. The butt of his spear exploded down against the nearest kneecap. One down. Exposed and stumbling, the two remaining Troopers where quickly stunned with the flat of his spear. He stood over them ready to finish it.

Lilith had to grab him and pull him back when the Troopers training commander ran directly towards the mess, shouting commands. To the surprise of the three-downed Hunters, their commander was yelling at them, not Adam.

The old woman chewed and chewed. The gist of it centered round why three experienced fighters could allow a mere midge to best them. It was beyond her, she screamed. Scattered throughout, she used a literal collection of foul words to emphasize what she considered their collective lack of ability.

After that, the majority of females on the quad avoided Adam. A few dreamed about what else he could do. Adam tried to go back to books, his comfort zone. That old woman was having none of that. She had a mission. Make sure this male learned every trick she herself had learned in a lifetime of battles—might as well teach the girl as well.

Now they were stuck out here in Outsider territory trying to contact beings that were not even human.

“Lilith, what were those things we smelled in that cellar?” he asked.

“I do not know.”

“Who are Our Friends?”

“I have no idea. Tucker calls them Ergots,” Lilith answered. “He said they would help us get to our Director and Kimraig.” She watched her love deciding what he would do. She cautioned herself, be patient, he always took her side.

“Snap it up. We cannot dither here all day. We have Our Friends to contact,” he was muttering the last part under his breath again, “whatever they are.”

Every girl needed her own gorgeous killing machine.

* * *

Princely had watched his little friends start their quest, and then he ran fast. He liked the quick, bold movement and rush to new adventure. He used that quickness now to get inside One Nine.

For the first time ever, he felt no fear as he shook every available door inside the huge ground-floor room. If Old Crone had not stopped talking to him, she would be here to share his churning anticipation.

Nothing was open; each locked or burned with them patches the folks from
Across the Street
used to seal up different parts of a building. He found the door to the stairwell bent in far enough to wriggle through.

Princely would just have to brave the stairs even if they were mostly
“blacker than black is black.”
Gone or not, the thought of her cackling those words soothed him.

When he cleared the shaft of brilliant light, creeping from the busted door, his old friend joined him. Not Old Crone, but that little blue outline that jumped at him, then shot up the stairs. Each tread, each handrail, each landing glowed enough for him to see his path.

No way could his mother have been a bat, but that was what his old mentor claimed.
“See, see what did I tell you, bats,”
she had said when he got hair and those little tuffs of fur back of his ear that came to haunt him—along with them two grapes between his legs that hurt bad if they got bumped, or hit.

He missed her. She had not come back to him, yet remained with him. That was how he knew exactly which door to push open when he was near the bridge.

The door jerked him out into blinding torch light, then jerked him way up and shook him as if it was getting dirt out of old shoes. Could not be the door taking him up that high, but up he was.

“Look at here what I got.”

“I knew it. I found you,” Princely gurgled past the choking collar of his shirt. Not seeing yet, but he was so high in the air it had to be Boss.

“Miss me, did you sweet cheeks?” Boss sneered into his ear.

“You keep wandering around on that bad foot, and it is you who will miss me,” Princely said. He knew, deep down, his head would never again be up his butt.

When he hit the floor, he could see a little. Sure enough, Boss was standing over him flanked by his two guards. First thought: buzz-juice was flowing. Sure enough, Boss had one crutch to stagger around on and it had one of them small jugs attached about half way down.

“You just pop up like that stinking green weed and you do not expect me to ask question?”

“I did not pop, you yanked me out here.”

“T’was me yanked ya’.”

Boss sent the guard flying flat on his back.

“When I want something out of you, I will kick it out,” Boss spat. He did just that.

I told you so!
Trying not to laugh, Princely watched Boss hopping around holding his bad foot. Instead of risking more anger, Princely pulled himself up off the floor and quickly moved to the old man’s side. Slipping one arm around him, he took his weight and helped him to the wall.

“Sit down and rest your back against the wall,” Princely ordered without thinking. “Damn thing is bleeding again.” Who cares if Boss did not like orders? First time in his life Princely thought the man should “Chill.” He had read about chilling in one of the paper scraps he had found. Best he could figure it meant relax and enjoy the moment.

“Hold still while I put your foot up on my knapsack.” More orders, he could get used to this. For a bit, he thought about using the fish knife now instead of later. No, just a busted scab so these two drunks would not have to carry the old man. Without them occupied, he would not be able to avoid their spears.

“Buzz-juice,” Princely ordered as he set back on his heels. He would have used his own but it was gone. Payment for his people to deliver all his scraps of paper and his manuscript to Doctor Edith in that big Builder baby factory.

Boss and his two flunkies tried to look like he was crazy or something.

“You want wigglies in that foot?”

“The boy wants BJ, now.”

Two of them offered their travel containers. Princely figured there was more wigglies on the lips of those two smelly mouths that there was in the raw part under what had been a toenail. He poured a tiny stream over the raw wound from each of the small containers. Would not hurt to give Boss a chance at a little pus maker from each of his trusted guards.

“Sit there a minute, and let that dry.”

“Wrap it, and wrap it tight. We got some unfinished business with that new 6th of Six they sent to my building.” Boss and the guards laughed.

Princely ignored their rabid comments, seems they did not get their cut at the woman Breen, before Kimraig kicked their collective butts out of his building. He had heard it all before. No one ever got “his” share.

When they all got moving, Boss was fastest up the stairs. The guards carried torches that nearly blinded Princely. He learned fast to close his eyes tight, then open just a slash.

The group stopped at the next floor where more of their men bunched against the doorways and up the steps. Whispered instructions, and all went through the door into black space, with no torches to light the way. Princely kept his little blue helper to himself, and still managed to keep Boss from stumbling into a bit or two of debris.

As the door closed, Princely caught the lingering scent of ocean breezes. It took him only a second to locate the origin—the odor reeked from the two sets of elevator doors.

They kept on going past the next landing and finally burst into this short hallway. Took time to light a torch from a stash pile, then they kept moving and turned right: just another longer hallway.

They were moving too fast. If they did not slow down, they were sure to get spear-stuck, like a rat on a spit, by their own men. Couple more sips of BJ for these guys and getting stuck was sure to happen, what with all of them milling around in the hallways. Drinking. No guards. Boss would have their hides.

“What the hell is the matter with all of you,” Boss yelled but managed control this time. He raised both arms up with the stop signal. His half shadow flickered strangely in the torch light.

Princely did not see anything but sensed movement down the end of the hallway. Finally, he made out two more guards who headed their way. They stopped and went back to work when they saw Boss signal that he did not need them.

The two had found an old decorative column somewhere and had it wedged against the other stairwell door. He bet that denting a furrow at the top of the metal door to accept one end of the column, took a lot of hard work. More work breaking a hole in the tile floor just one tall body length away to accept the other end. In place, it looked like half that letter X with the column in place. No one was getting out that door.