The Magic Kingdom of Landover , Volume 1 (103 page)

Abernathy felt as if the walls were closing in on him. “Hurry up, Elizabeth,” he urged. “Tell me the rest as quick as you can!”

She took a deep, steadying breath. “Well, as I told you, I couldn’t lie—not
completely, not to him. So I said, ‘Yeah, he did!’—as if I was real surprised he knew. I said that was why I sent you away, because I was afraid of you. I just turned you loose and you ran off. I said I hadn’t seen you since. I said I hadn’t said anything to anyone because I was afraid they wouldn’t believe me. I said I was waiting to tell my father when he came back Wednesday.” She took hold of him with her hands. “He believed me, I think. He just told me to go to my room and wait there for him. He ordered the watch to start a search. But he was yelling at them like he was crazy, Abernathy! You have to get out of here!”

Abernathy nodded wearily. “How do I do that, Elizabeth?”

The little girl’s hands tightened on his arms. “Just the way I said you would—except that you have to go down to the laundry room right now!”

“Elizabeth, you just said they were searching for me!”

“No, no, Abernathy—listen!” Her roundish face bent close, brow furrowed with determination. Her nose freckles seemed to dance. “They’ve already searched the laundry room. That’s where they started. I told them that was where I let you go. So no one’s there anymore. They’re looking around everywhere else. The laundry room is down the hall, around the corner to the right, on the ground floor—not far. If you go out the window … listen to me … if you go out the window and down the vines, you can slip around the corner and through the window!”

“Elizabeth, I can’t climb down …”

“The catch is off, Abernathy! I took it off over the weekend when I was playing hide-and-seek with Mrs. Allen! You can slip right through the window into one of the hampers and wait! If not, just wait in the bushes; I’ll come down and open it as soon as I can! Oh, I’m so sorry, Abernathy! This is all my fault! But you have to go! You have to hurry! If they find you here, they’ll know I lied, that I helped you …”

There was the sound of voices and footsteps in the hall beyond, rapidly approaching.

“Abernathy!” Elizabeth whispered fearfully.

Abernathy was already moving for the windows. He released the catch, pushed open the twin latticework frames, and peered down. It was dark, but he could just make out a thick tangle of trailing vines. They appeared strong enough to hold him.

He turned back to Elizabeth. “Good-bye, Elizabeth,” he whispered. “Thank you for your help.”

“It’s the fifth window around the corner!” she whispered back. Then she put her hands to her mouth in horror. “Abernathy, I haven’t given you the money for the airplane ticket!”

“Never mind that,” he said, already swinging carefully out the window, testing his weight on the vines. His fingered paws gripped poorly. He would be lucky if he didn’t break his neck.

“No, you have to have the money!” she insisted, practically beside herself. “I know! Meet me tomorrow at noon at the school—Franklin Elementary! I’ll have it then!”

There was a knock at the door. “Elizabeth? Open the door.”

Abernathy recognized the voice immediately. “Good-bye, Elizabeth!” he whispered again.

“Good-bye!” she whispered back.

The latticework windows swung silently shut above him, and he was left hanging in the dark.

I
t seemed to Abernathy that it took him an impossible amount of time to get down. He was terrified of being caught out there, but he was equally terrified of falling. He compromised his fears by making his way at something of a snail’s pace, taking time to find each handgrip and foothold as he inched downward through the vines, pressed as close as he could get to the stone block. Lights had come on in the courtyard below, electric lamps—he had read about them—and the darkness was no longer quite so concealing. He felt like a fly waiting for the swat that would end its purposeless life.

But the swat didn’t come, and he finally felt the reassuring firmness of the ground touch his feet. He crouched down instantly, eyes sweeping the yard, searching for movement. There was none. Quickly, he made his way along the wall, staying close against its dark shadow, out of the illumination of the lamps. A door opened from somewhere behind, and he heard voices. He scurried along faster, reaching the bend in the wall that would take him to the promised laundry window. It was darker here, the wall turning back into a deep, shadowed alcove. He slipped along silently, counting windows as he went. The fifth window, Elizabeth had said. One, two …

Behind him, a beam of light shot across the dark, sweeping the courtyard to the low outer wall and the moat and back again. A flashlight, Abernathy thought. He had read about those, too. A flashlight meant that someone was out there on foot, searching the grounds. He practically ran now, counting three, four … five!

He skidded to a stop, almost passing by number five without seeing it because it was partially concealed in a clump of bushes. He looked at it. It was smaller than the previous four—smaller, too, than the ones that followed. Was this the right window? Or was he not supposed to count this one? There was light inside, but there was light in the next one as well. He began to panic. He bent close and listened. Did he hear voices in there? He glanced back frantically. The flashlight was coming closer in the dark, the sound of voices back there as well.

He looked forlornly at the window. There was nothing to do but chance it, he decided. If he stayed where he was, he was certain to be found. He reached down to the window and pushed carefully inward. The window gave easily at his touch. He caught a glimpse of linens in a basket. Relief flooded through him. He knelt down quickly and started to crawl in.

Several pairs of hands reached up to help him.

W
e found him sneaking in through the laundry room window,” said a guard, one of three from the watch that had captured Abernathy. They held him firmly by the arms. “It was lucky we went back or we would have missed him. We’d searched there first and hadn’t found a thing. But Jeff here says he thinks maybe one of the windows was left unlatched, that we ought to check it. We did, and that’s when we found him, crawling in.”

They stood in a study, a room filled with books and files, desks and cabinets—Abernathy and his captors and Michel Ard Rhi.

The guard speaking paused and glanced uncertainly at Abernathy. “Exactly what sort of creature is he, Mr. Ard Rhi?”

Michel Ard Rhi ignored him, the whole of his attention centered on Abernathy. He was a tall, rawboned man with a shock of black hair and a narrow, pinched face that suggested he had just eaten something sour. He looked older than he was, his brow lined, his skin sallow. He had dark, unfriendly eyes that registered immediate disapproval with everything in view. He stood ramrod straight, affecting an air of complete superiority.

“Abernathy,” he whispered almost soundlessly, as if in answer to the guard’s question.

He took a moment longer to study his captive, then said to the guards without bothering to look at them, “Wait outside.”

The guards left, closing the study door softly behind them. Michel Ard Rhi left Abernathy standing where he was and moved over to sit behind a huge, polished oak desk littered with paperwork. “Abernathy,” he said again, as if not yet convinced of it. “What are you doing here?”

Abernathy was no longer shaking. When the guards had captured him he had been so terrified that he could barely stand. Now he accepted his situation with the weary resignation of the condemned, and his acceptance gave him a small dose of renewed strength. He tried to keep his voice calm. “Questor Thews sent me here by mistake. He was trying something with the magic.”

“Oh?” Michel seemed interested. “What was the old fool trying this time?”

Abernathy showed nothing. “He was trying to change me back into a man.”

Michel Ard Rhi looked at him appraisingly and then laughed. “Remember how he changed you into a dog in the first place, Abernathy? Remember how
he botched it? I’m surprised you let him come near you.” He shook his head hopelessly. “Questor Thews never could manage to do anything right, could he?”

He made it a statement of fact, not a question. Abernathy said nothing. He was thinking of the High Lord’s medallion, still concealed beneath his tunic. He was thinking that whatever else happened, Michel Ard Rhi must not be allowed to discover he wore it.

Michel seemed to know what he was thinking. “Well,” he mused, drawing the word out. “Here you are, you say, delivered to me by your inept protector. Such irony. But you know what, Abernathy? Something isn’t right about all this. No one human—or dog—crosses through the fairy mists without the medallion. Do they, Abernathy?”

He waited. Abernathy shook his head carefully. “The magic …”

“The magic?” Michel interrupted at once. “The magic of Questor Thews? You want me to believe that the magic was the cause of your passage out of Landover into this world? How … incredible!” He thought a moment and smiled unpleasantly. “I don’t believe it. Why don’t you prove it to me? Why don’t you satisfy my curiosity? Open your tunic.”

Abernathy went cold. “I have told you …”

“Your tunic. Open your tunic.”

Abernathy gave it up. Slowly he unclasped the tunic front. Michel leaned forward as the silver medallion came into view. “So,” he said, his voice a slow hiss. “It
was
the medallion.”

He got up and walked out from behind the desk, coming to a stop directly in front of Abernathy. He was still smiling, a smile without warmth. “Where is my bottle?” he asked softly.

Abernathy held his ground, fighting down the urge to step back. “What bottle are you talking about, Michel?”

“The bottle in the case, Abernathy—where is it? You know where it is and you’re going to tell me. I don’t believe for a moment that you just happened to appear in my castle. I don’t believe that this is all just the result of errant magic. What sort of fool do you think I am? The medallion brought you here from Landover. You came to Graum Wythe to steal the bottle, and that’s what you’ve done. It only remains for me to discover where you have hidden it.” He paused thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s in Elizabeth’s room. Is that where it is, Abernathy? Is Elizabeth your accomplice in all this?”

Abernathy tried to keep any trace of fear for Elizabeth from his voice. “The little girl? She just happened to stumble on me, and I had to pretend with her for a bit. If you want, search her room, Michel.” He tried to sound disinterested.

Michel watched him like a hawk. He leaned forward a bit. “Do you know what I am going to do with you?”

Abernathy stiffened slightly. “I am sure you will tell me,” he replied.

“I am going to put you in a cage, Abernathy. I am going to put you in a cage just as I would with any stray animal. You’ll be given dog food and water and a pad to sleep on. And that is where you will stay, Abernathy.” The smile was gone completely now. “Until you tell me where the bottle is. And …” He paused. “Until you take off the medallion and give it to me.”

He bent closer still, his breath strong in Abernathy’s nostrils. “I know the law of the medallion. I cannot take it from you; you must give it to me. It must be given freely, or the magic is useless. You will do that, Abernathy. You will give me the medallion of your own choice. I grow tired of this world. I think perhaps I might return to Landover for a time. I think I might
like
being King now.”

He stared into Abernathy’s eyes for a moment, searching for the fear concealed there, found it, and stepped back again in satisfaction. “If you don’t give me the bottle and the medallion, Abernathy, you will be left in that cage until you rot.” He paused. “And that could take a very long time.”

Abernathy didn’t say a word. He simply stood there, paralyzed.

“Guard!” Michel Ard Rhi called. The men without reappeared. “Take him down to the cellar and put him in a cage. Give him water and dog food twice a day and nothing else. Don’t let anyone near him.”

Abernathy was dragged roughly through the door. Behind him, he heard Michel call out in a singsong, taunting voice, “You should never have come here, Abernathy!”