Part 18 (1/2)
”What's the matter?” matter?” hissed Odo. hissed Odo.
”To take from a dead man ...”
”He would filch your life,” Odo reminded her.
Sybil, nodding grimly, took another deep breath and slowly pulled back the blanket from Thorston's body. ”Odo!” she cried.
”What?”
”He's much younger!”
”I don't care how old he is, get the stone!”
Sybil gazed at Thorston. He was a young man, smooth-faced; lanky and thick-haired, with full lips. Yet there was no apparent breathing.
”The stone!” chided Odo.
Sybil made herself look about his body. ”I can't see his purse,” she said.
”It must be on his other side.”
Sybil began to lean over the body, only to pull back.
”What's the matter?”
”I'm frightened.”
”You handled him before when he was dead.”
”But what if he should come back now?”
”I'll help,” said the raven. He fluttered across the room and landed on the bed at the far side of the body. With bright eyes he looked about. ”The purse is right here,” said Odo, pointing with his beak. ”If you open it I can pluck out the stone.”
Girding herself, and taking great care even as she held her breath, Sybil leaned over Thorston's body. She saw the purse immediately. It was tied to Thorston's belt. With her arm arched so as not to touch him, Sybil felt for it.
”Odo, he's knotted it closed!”
”Get back,” said the raven, even as he hopped closer. With quick sharp pecks that alternated with pulls upon the drawstrings, he unraveled the knot.
”Untied!” he announced, drawing back.
Sybil leaned over the body again and slipped her fingers into the purse, and spread them wide so there was a gap. ”Open,” she said and drew her hand away.
Once more Odo hopped close, leaned in, then abruptly plunged his head into the purse. Next moment he emerged, the small green stone locked between the bills of his beak.
On the instant Sybil stepped away from the bed while Odo fluttered to the book pile.
”Perhaps I should swallow it,” said Odo.
”Odo, if you do you will kill us both!” She held out her palm.
For a moment the bird did nothing.
”Odo!”
Odo leaned forward and let the stone drop into Sybil's open hand.
3.
Sybil, making sure the stone was secure in her belt purse-where it clinked against the Damian coin-hurried down the steps to the ground floor, candle in hand. Odo rode her shoulder. Together they examined the old wall. It was easy enough to see the outline of the old entryway. And when Sybil poked at the mortar between the stones, it crumbled. ”You see,” she said. ”It's not hard. I'm sure you can do it. Do you need my help?”
”I have to do it on my own,” said Odo. He gazed fixedly at the wall with his black eyes and raised a claw: ”Feallan, feallan,” ”Feallan, feallan,” he whispered. he whispered.
A rock vibrated-and tumbled out of the wall.
Sybil clapped her hands. ”There! You can do it.”
”One stone at least,” said Odo. He lifted his claw and repeated the words. When a second stone fell, he nodded with excitement and set to work in earnest. He chanted, and stones tumbled to the floor.
”It's exhausting,” he panted, beak open. ”Sybil, be warned, the magical things I do never last. At least I now understand why: it's the nature of the book's magic.”
”But don't stop,” said Sybil. ”You're succeeding.”
Odo went on until a rush of cold air announced he had breached the wall. Sybil peered into the hole. ”Tumble a few more stones, and I'll just be able to squeeze through.”
Odo continued. Sybil checked again. ”There,” she announced. ”It's wide enough. Wait here and rest. I'll fetch the boy.”
”Just hurry,” urged Odo.
4.
Sybil ran up the steps and into the back room. ”Alfric, wake up.”
The boy sat up with a start. ”Mistress, is something the matter?”
”You need to come with me.”
”Where?”