The Vengekeep Prophecies (13 page)

I blinked. “You're sending the klutz for help?”

“Neither your Ma nor I is willing to leave the family to face whatever's coming next without us,” he reasoned. “Nanni wouldn't make it far and Aubrin's too young. Only you can quickly identify the rare plants. If someone's going to try, it has to be you.”

My hands grew cold. Of course they thought I could do this. Here I was, confidently spouting off the plan of attack. But that was because I
knew
the plants involved. I
knew
I could make the solvent. I had no idea how to venture out to find everything. That was beyond what I could do.

“No,” I said, feeling my chest tighten. “I'll only mess it up. I can write up detailed descriptions of the plants, explain where they can be found—”

Before I knew it, I could barely breathe. I closed my eyes and felt cool hands press gently against my cheeks. I opened my eyes to find Ma staring at me. Her face was calm and reassuring.

“Jaxter,” Ma said, “we're running out of time.”

A thunderclap sounded overhead, underscoring Ma's point. She was right. We didn't have time. I swallowed, then gave a nod.

“All right then,” Nanni said quietly, “that just leaves getting him past the Provincial Guard.”

No one said a word. Largely because the only words to say related to my natural clumsiness and how all of my past attempts at stealth, even hiding in the darkness of night, were miserable failures.

“I know how he can get out.”

Everyone turned. We'd forgotten Callie was still with us. She brushed away her honey-colored bangs and smiled. Da returned the smile and pulled out a chair for her.

“Do tell, Miss Callie. Do tell.”

“If you must steal from a wise man or a foolish one, steal from the wise. You'll leave him with something he'll value: a lesson.”

—
Onarta Grimjinx, creator of the Grimjinx family album

T
o beat the floods, I had to leave immediately. For our plan to work, Callie needed to go home. She left, promising to meet me at the town-state hall. The Grimjinxes, returning to form, sprang into action. Ma and Da filled my backpack with equipment for the trip. Nanni and Aubrin prepared food. I joined them in the kitchen, grabbing the jars where I kept my herbs and supplies, and began restocking the pouches on my belt.

While everyone seemed excited with the plan, Nanni wouldn't have been Nanni if she didn't raise some concerns.

“What do you know about milking spiderbats?” she asked, wrapping a small singemeat pie in parchment. “Even if you find them, how do you plan to get their milk? I doubt they'll just let you walk up and take it.”

I filled one of my pouches to the brim with amberberry powder. “I don't know, Nanni. But mooncrux is three weeks away. This is our best chance to stop … you know what.” We both looked to the wall, where Da had hung the tapestry sketch. The flying skeletons continued to stand out as the biggest threat.

Scoffing, Nanni finished packing the food and skulked from the kitchen. I knelt near Aubrin and handed her a thin, black leather book. “Okay, Jinxface. You're in charge while I'm gone.” I poked her nose and she giggled. “Write down everything that happens so I'll know what I missed. Take care of everyone for me.”

She cradled the book in her arm and leaned forward to kiss my cheek. Then her lips moved to my ear and I heard a faint, scratchy whisper.

“Be … safe.”

My heart leaped as Aubrin pulled back and gave me a sly wink, placing her finger to her lips. I mimicked the gesture, grinning like a mad fool. Then I kissed her on the forehead and we joined the others at the kitchen table. Da and Ma gave me a tour of my pack.

“Maps,” Da noted, pointing out a side pocket. “One for each province.”

“Vials,” Ma said, pointing to the concealed pouch on the satchel's underside. “For spiderbat milk.”

They pointed out a few other necessities—a tinderbox for lighting fires, a tiny lantern, a blanket—then added Nanni's food pack. The supplies that wouldn't fit inside the pack were tied with rope to the outside. The weight of the backpack nearly toppled me over as I threw it on my shoulder. One by one, they kissed me good-bye. As Ma held my shoulders, she said, “I'd say ‘Make us proud' but you already do that every day. So I'll just say ‘Come back soon.'”

As I stepped outside, the storm hit. I ran through the streets, dodging raindrops the size of fists. By the time I got to the town-state hall, the rainfall was so thick I couldn't see the buildings around me, and water had pooled up to my heels in the streets. Callie was waiting for me outside the hall doors. On her back was a large pack.

“Okay,” Callie said, “once we get down to the catacombs, we can make our way—”

“Sorry?” I asked. “
Our
way?”

She grinned. “I'm coming with you. Ta-da!”

A very large part of me wanted her to come. I didn't like the idea of doing this on my own. But traveling across the Five Provinces would be dangerous enough, and I didn't want to feel responsible for bringing her along.

Seeing I was going to shoot her down, her hands went right to her hips. “What happens if you need a lock picked? I can do that, Jaxter. You know I can.”

The rain fell harder and crept up the town-state hall steps. Arguing didn't seem like a good idea. “I can't stop you. Can I?”

She guffawed. “Oh, please. Like you had a chance.”

We ducked into the town-state hall, where a skittish clerk manned the front desk. He looked up, saw us, and on meeting my eyes, his hand shot to defend the money pouch at his waist.

“My uncle forgot his glasses today,” Callie announced to the clerk. “He sent me to grab them.”

Everyone knew Callie's uncle, Masteron Strom, was Keeper of the Catacombs. He oversaw the safe handling and security of the Twins' tapestries in the chambers below the town-state hall. Nothing like his niece, he was a meek and forgetful man. This wouldn't be the first time that Callie had been sent to retrieve something he'd forgotten.

When the clerk made no move, Callie crossed her arms and glowered at the man.

“This is Jaxter Grimjinx,” she said icily. “He is my guest and, in case you hadn't heard, one of the saviors of Vengekeep. He has as much right to accompany me into the catacombs as anyone, if not more.”

“Right this way,” the clerk squeaked. He escorted us down a hall to a narrow, ornately decorated wooden door on the right. He went to unlock it, but Callie produced the key ring she'd gotten from home.

“I've got my uncle's keys,” she announced. “Thank you.” The clerk scuttled away as Callie opened the door, revealing a long, winding staircase that dropped into the floor.

We made our way down, a series of small oil lamps lighting our descent. Our footfalls echoed back to us with each step.

“It might take some looking,” she said quietly, “but my uncle once told me that there's a small tunnel hidden in the catacombs, behind one of the tapestry racks. The catacombs were much bigger when Vengekeep was young, but the town-state council sealed off some of the tunnels because of a problem with vessapedes.”

I shivered. Vessapedes were nasty, burrowing, many-legged creatures, as wide as I was tall and long as a city block. I remembered that one of Ma's prophecies involved a horde of them invading Vengekeep. With any luck, we'd be back to destroy the tapestry before that happened.

“The abandoned catacomb tunnels come out somewhere near Glenoak Falls, just beyond the valley,” she said. “That should be well past where the Provincial Guards are stationed.”

The bottom of the stairs led directly into a mammoth room, the biggest room I'd ever seen. A soft, green-blue light—enchanted fire that would burn until extinguished—flickered from slender candles embedded in copper candelabra that towered over me by two heads at least. The room was longer than it was wide. Wooden racks made with thick, vertical dowels in neat rows lined the walls. Jutting up from between the dowels were slender glass tubes, each end sealed with a thick clot of red wax that shimmered in the light. Inside the glass tubes, rolled up tightly, were all the tapestries ever spun by the Twins. Each tube bore a small, brass plaque identifying the year the tube was to be unsealed.

“All right,” Callie said, pointing to the racks, “if the hidden tunnel is behind one of them, we should be able to feel a breeze from the back. You look in here and I'll look in there.”

She moved through a doorway that led into an identical room. I knelt at the nearest rack, running my hand along the space where the rack met the blackstone wall. Cool but no air. I continued like this, scurrying back and forth between tapestry racks. The room was seemingly endless and I grew tired quickly. I sat down to rest and, looking up, noticed that the green-blue flames on the nearest candelabrum were flickering. I slipped my hand behind the closest rack and felt a breeze.

Crouching down, I pressed my shoulder to the rack and pushed with my entire body weight until it budged a bit. I continued grunting and shoving until I'd exposed a small crawl space in the wall. Frigid, moist air spilled into the catacombs. I peered down the tunnel. Even crawling, there would be just barely enough room for me and my pack.

I stood to call out for Callie, when I got hit around the waist by a fast-moving blur. I slammed into the floor on my stomach, the air driving from my lungs. Strong hands gripped my shoulders and turned me onto my back. Before my eyes could focus, a fist grazed my temple, once then twice. My vision blurred with tears as I felt myself straddled, powerful legs locking my arms to my sides.

I shook my head and found myself staring up at Maloch, his fist cocked in the air for another strike. I should have known he'd followed us here.

“Maloch?” I rasped. “What are you—”

His fist came down again, a light, glancing blow across my chin.

“You're under arrest,” he growled, “for breaking into the catacombs, for tampering with tapestries, for …”

As he continued to list charges, I tried to move my hand. If I could just reach the pouch at my hip, I could end this with some ground roxpepper seeds, which doubled as blinding powder. But his knees dug into my forearms, keeping them immobile. I had to buy time to figure a way out.

“Maloch,” I said as calmly as possible, “we used to be friends. I know you're not like this.” Actually, this was exactly what he was like.

Maloch sneered. “You don't know anything about me, Jaxter.”

“Well, why not tell me about yourself? I've got the time.” My fingers wiggled, just able to skim the edge of my pouches. But he weighed a ton. I wasn't going to budge him anytime soon.

“I'm taking you right to the Castellan for—”

I never got to hear what he'd planned. From the side, a large backpack flew through the air, knocking Maloch off my chest. I snatched a handful of roxpepper dust and tossed it in his face. He screamed in pain as the gray powder burned his eyes and blisters formed on his cheeks. He writhed blindly on the floor as Callie appeared, retrieving her pack.

“I said you'd need me. I didn't think it would be
this
soon.” Callie grinned.

“Bangers, Callie, thanks for the save,” I said, nodding at the hidden tunnel. “I found it.”

“What do we do about him?” she asked, pointing to Maloch.

Down the other end of the room, we heard the report of armored boots on the stairs and the hysterical voice of the clerk screaming, “He's down there!”

Callie and I looked at each other. The clerk had raised the alarm. We had no choice. Ignoring Maloch's pained cries, I let Callie enter the hidden tunnel, then followed close behind. Pulling the lantern from my pack, I passed it ahead to her to light our journey.

We crawled along on all fours. Slime from the tunnel floor squished between our fingers. Thin roots dangled from the tunnel ceiling like spider legs, tickling our faces as we moved forward. When the noise in the catacombs had become a low murmur behind us, our tunnel emptied out into a much larger passageway, big enough that we could both finally stand.