Part 19 (1/2)

”What's the alternative?” Naeli replied, and I had to admit she had a point.

We went down into the bas.e.m.e.nt. I'd never been down there before; it was sort of creepy. But not so creepy as the big black hole Naeli uncovered, gesturing that we should go down in.

Thend obviously felt the same way as I did. ”How far can we get in the sewer?” he grumbled. ”If it's Charis they're after, I say we give him to them.”

Charis jumped like a rabbit at that, and he didn't look very rea.s.sured when Naeli said, ”We'll hold that in reserve. If we can get away clean, that's our first choice.”

”Clean!” said Bann and gulped.

I growled and shouldered past all three of my big brothers. There were grips for hands and feet leading down into the dark pit. I jumped onto them and began climbing downward.

”Well?” said Naeli coldly, and the guys started to follow me, grumbling a little.

It wasn't really so bad. I mean, don't kid yourself, it wasn't like taking a walk in the hills after a spring rain. But I'd kind of expected it to niff like an outhouse that's been used by a hundred thousand people, and it wasn't anything like that.

When I got down to the bottom of the climbing grips, I was standing in a tunnel on a pretty wide ledge-wider than any sidewalk I remember in Four Castles. In the middle of the tunnel ran a stream of dark water several times as wide as the ledge, and on the far side of the tunnel there was another ledge. I could see all this because of a luminous green mold that grew in patches on the walls.

The tunnel seemed to go on forever in both directions. Other tunnels joined up with it at intervals, and the whole thing seemed to tilt slightlyso that everything could roll downhill, I realized, just like the proverb said.

”It's like a whole city under the city!” said Stador, when we were all down on the ledge.

”Yes,” Charis said, with a certain amount of hometown pride, I thought. ”The Old Ontilians built it, in ancient days. When Ambrosia rebuilt the city in the days of Uthar the Great, she could do nothing to better the sewers.”

”Who's Ambrosia?” I asked.

Charis looked at me, his face slack with amazement-as if I'd asked, ”What is the sun?” or ”What is water?”

”Morlock's sister,” Naeli answered. ”Among other things, I gather.”

”Other things,” said Charis, as if he'd been punched, and shook his head.

”Go north,” Naeli directed us. ”Upstream. That's where Roble and Morlock will be looking for us, if we're not in the house. If need be, we go all the way to the Kirach Kund.”

”Do the sewers reach all that way?” I asked.

”Yes and no,” Naeli replied, and winked at me just before I exploded.

I turned around and started walking upstream.

We went as fast as we could; all too soon the clash of metal came echoing up the tunnel behind us. The Imperials were in the sewers.

”Quick and quiet,” whispered Naeli, who led us up a tunnel leading northwest.

”They'll have gla.s.s lizards,” Charis said. ”They scent ... they'll scent us.”

He looked at me as he was speaking, and then away. All of a sudden I realized he meant, They'll scent Fasra.

I was furious. He didn't smell so delightfully fresh himself. And I'd saved his stupid life! Catch me making that mistake again.

I fell a little further behind, walking beside Thend at the back of the group. I was steamed at first, too mad to talk even if talking hadn't been too dangerous. But pretty soon I cooled off and, as I did, I realized something.

Charis, d.a.m.n him, was right. If the imperial troops had hunting beasts, and if they had caught a scent in the house that they were trailing in the sewer, it was probably mine. Plus, I was shorter than everyone else. If it had been a matter of a short sprint, I probably could have left them all behind, but on a long walk I was inevitably going to slow the group down, even if I weren't feeling sick, which I was: the cramping had started again, as bad as ever.

I thought and thought and all my thinking came to one conclusion. I probably couldn't get away. But if I led the hunters astray, the others probably could.

It wasn't my first choice, believe me. I was going to bull my way to the front of the pack and argue with Naeli that now was the time to trade Charis for our lives and freedom. The trouble was, I soon realized what Naeli probably had realized back at the house: it wouldn't work.

Why were they after Charis, anyway? Because he knew something, or they thought he did. Probably the Khroic agent wanted him captured, because he was pa.s.sing information on about the Khroi. Or maybe the Imperials wanted him because they thought he knew something about the Khroic agent. Either way, the trouble is, we had been traveling with Charis and protecting him-and knowledge is contagious. If the Imperials caught us they would take us all prisoner, and the Strange G.o.ds only knew if we'd ever see the light of day again.

That left my fallback plan: that is, Fasra takes one for the team, like any good vinch-ball player. (I hate vinch-ball, but we've been through all that.) Naeli was leading the group on a zigzag path through the interweaving tunnels: now northwest, now northeast, but always trending north. The ledges were a little narrower, and we were going single file. Naeli, at the head of the line, was often out of my sight around a corner. I dropped a little further back, and then further yet.

”What are you doing?” Thend whispered, looking over his shoulder at me.

I pointed over my shoulder, pointed at myself, and gestured wildly to the west. I hoped he'd get the idea and he did.

”No,” he said, almost at his normal voice, and from the front of the line came an imperious whisper, ”Be quiet!”

In a schoolroom whisper, I explained to Thend why it had to be this way.

He got it. There's nothing wrong with his wits, whatever you say about his manners.

”I'll come with you,” he said quietly.

I shook my head. ”You have to stay with the group-make like I'm always a little behind you. Otherwise ...”

Otherwise Naeli would stop and come back for me. He knew it. His eyes looked tortured, and I hated the thought of the guilt I was inflicting on him. But I'd rather have him guilty and alive than have us all be guilt-free and dead in some imperial torture chamber. There are some occasions when family togetherness is overrated.

”I'm sorry,” I whispered. ”I'll catch up if I can,” I added.

He shook his head, kissed me on the side of the face, and left me standing there. Soon he and the others were out of sight.

I stood for a moment where I was, and then backtracked a bit. There was an arched stone bridge pa.s.sing over the stream westward. I reached under my tunic and unbelted the rags that had been absorbing (partially) my flow. I dragged it behind me as I crossed over the bridge. Then I waited at the tunnel junction until it sounded like the pursuers were almost about to come in sight. I left the rags behind on the ground and fled up the tunnel.

Soon I knew it was working: some, at least, of the pursuers were pursuing me. I couldn't run for very long, and soon I heard them behind me: the tramp of the soldiers' boots, muttered comments or orders (distorted into unintelligibility in the echoing tunnels), the sniffling of beasts (gla.s.s lizards?).

I turned northwest or southwest at the junctions, always trending westward. I doubted I'd escape them, but there was always the chance that they'd think I was unimportant to them, nothing to do with Charis, or Morlock, or their d.a.m.n city. (I wished it were true.) And every moment they chased me was one Naeli and my brothers were using to get away. Or so I hoped.

How long it all lasted I really can't say. I'd had a long day and practically no sleep; a fog of weariness was settling over my mind. I found myself leaning against the entrance to one of these tunnels, my mind a blank, unsure what I was supposed to be doing.

Then, in the tunnel I had come out of, on the far side of the stream, I saw the gla.s.s lizards. They were on long leashes; I didn't see any of their keepers, though I could hear them. There were four or five of the lizards, about the size of large dogs or wolves, and, as they came out into the larger tunnel, their transparent forms caught the light from the walls, like jars of clouded gla.s.s and they turned bright translucent green. I could see what seemed to be a human hand in one of their stomachs.

I don't think they saw me: their eyes were sort of blank and squinty, and didn't look too useful. But they smelled me. Their heads weaved for a moment in the air as they stood before the bridge crossing the stream, and then they each pointed a blunt serpentine snout right at me.

I spun around, ran up the tunnel, and heard them following eagerly as I ran. That jolt of terror lasted for a long time, and I even left them behind for a while. But eventually I was stumbling and staggering again, slowing down, hearing them closing in on me again and unable to remember why I cared.

Presently I found myself staring, openmouthed, at a smooth-faced wall. There was no tunnel to westward: not northwest, not southwest. I couldn't understand it. How had they managed to block me off?

It was the end of the sewer system, of course, but I was too stupid with weariness to understand that. But I had just enough wit left to understand I had to turn right or left. At random I turned left and stumbled as fast as I could, leaning from time to time on the smooth wall running along with me on my right.

Except once, unaccountably, it wasn't there. I fell to my right through a dark hole and facefirst on a pile of stones.