Part 9 (2/2)

”How, for pity's sake, do we get out of here!” said Derek. Then feeling anxious and frustrated, he commenced bouncing up and down, hoping to trigger something into action.

”We need to get out,” Cedrik told Cade with some urgency.

”Wait here. I'll get Bayne,” said Cade, and went to retrieve the obnoxious magic-user. When they returned Bayne said the strange words Cedrik thought to be the most d.a.m.nable he had ever heard, and without any warning he and Derek were drawn up as if by a powerful vacuum.

Their arms and legs flaying wildly, they felt as though falling upward, and continued this ascent with sickening speed, fearing they would be crushed against the earthen ceiling, but somehow it was soft and they broke through. They seemed to over shoot, however, and were again falling down, when they hit the hard ground, lying flat on their stomachs. Groaning with pain, they dragged themselves up, bruised bodies aching.

Again they found themselves in the dark wood. Not far from them was Deacon, leaning heavily, with his head on his forearm, against a tree. He wore his heavy elven-made cloak, yet still appeared to suffer from the unnatural cold.

Cedrik's anger was up. He went to Deacon and said almost into his ear. ”Have you gone mad? You could have killed him!” Pus.h.i.+ng off the tree with difficulty, Deacon turned to face them. His countenance, deathly pale, drew Cedrik's sympathy, and he said with less force than before, ”You didn't kill him. But you easily could have.” At this, he had hoped to see relief in his cousins face, but Deacon, feverish and weak, said nothing and showed no sign of relief or remorse. Again Cedrik grew cross. ”Have you no regard for life, then? Your own, even?”

Deacon only stared with a sardonic, almost cruel gaze. Cedrik regarded him with mingled anger and pity. He was hunched over as though sickness beat down on him, and Cedrik saw now that he trembled.

”I know you're trying to kill your pain,” said Cedrik with a pleading reproach. ”But you're only killing yourself. You can't keep-”

”Tell me!” Deacon demanded with sudden energy. ”Must everyone feel the need to counsel me on grief? This is my pain! And I will deal with it in my own way,” he said, as though a wave of exhaustion had taken all strength from his voice.

”You-” Cedrik's reproof died as he looked at Deacon and saw his lips had become stained with blood. ”Your mouth,” he said with sudden alarm.

Deacon went white and staggered as if about to fall. Reaching out a hand, Cedrik tried to support him, but Deacon shoved it aside. ”Get away from me,” he rasped, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. His body, stooped over, was racked with pain. It was so severe Cedrik feared Deacon would lose consciousness. Deacon sagged against the tree for support. He was pasty white and sweating with the chills.

Cedrik and Derek looked on helplessly. They could see that their cousin was sinking in more than one way.

”You look like you just went twelve rounds with a stone wall,” said Cade from behind. He went boldly over to Deacon. ”You'll be all right.” He clapped him heavily on the back. Cedrik and Derek winced with sympathy. They knew for him, being Riven, it was far more serious than if any other mage had overtaxed himself. Deacon didn't move but swallowed hard and looked as if he might throw up.

”How does that boy fare?” asked Cedrik, wanting to draw Cade's sympathetic attentions away from Deacon.

”Ah, the lad's fine,” said Cade. ”These fights can often get brutal. I once saw a fellow I know get three fingers blown clean off. The poor beggar can't count past seven now.” Cade's laughter died when no one else accompanied him. He sighed. ”Well, we should move on before trouble comes looking for us. Your hero here just nearly killed one of the Nolan brothers, and they're pretty mean when you get all five together.”

Cedrik frowned. ”Perfect.”

Cade looked as though it was all a joke to him. ”Come back to my place,” he said, his tone brisk and certain. ”You can get your things from the inn when morning comes.”

”Where do you live?” asked Derek.

”Down by the water. Come on.” He shook Deacon into mobility. ”Let's get you out of here before we have to drag your carcase out.”

All four moved off through the wood. Deacon lagged behind, arms clasped round his shoulders. Occasionally Cedrik glanced back to see if he was still with them and couldn't help but feel eerie. Deacon appeared dark and strange as he pa.s.sed silently through the shadows of the trees.

The cottages were all locked and darkened in sleep as they weaved their way through to Cade's home. The night air was heavy with the smell of damp vegetation. Quietly, the boys stepped up onto the porch. Cade turned the handle and put his weight against the door, but it didn't budge. Stepping back, he said incredulously, ”The old hag locked me out again.”

”Old hag?” Derek echoed, keeping his voice down.

”My grandmother,” said Cade. ”We'll have to go around back.” The boys shuffled out of the way as he turned and went back down the steps.

”You live with your grandmother?” Derek whispered, as they made their way round the side of the cottage. They stopped at a stone half-wall that enclosed a small piece of land, which served as a backyard. Cade and the brothers vaulted over easily, followed by Deacon, who climbed up and dropped over the side with a grunt of pain, pulling his cloak protectively about himself.

Cade knelt down by the house and found that the bas.e.m.e.nt door was bolted on the outside. He rattled it in frustration.

”What now?” asked Cedrik in a low, impatient voice.

”She locked this one, too,” said Cade. Then, motioning to the lock, he turned to Deacon. ”Can you?”

”Don't,” said Cedrik and laid a firm hand on Deacon. ”Why did she lock you out if you are welcome?”

Cade didn't appear to hear the note of mistrust but stood up, turned to Cedrik, and said, in a fierce whisper, ”Because she locks the door at night when she goes to bed. This is not so friendly an area, if you haven't yet found that out yourself.”

”Why haven't you a key?” said Cedrik, mildly.

Cade sighed sharply. ”She doesn't like me coming home in the night. Which is why I haven't a blasted key!” He looked sheepish for a moment. ”It's a kind of punishment for if I'm home too late,” he said, looking about himself as if bored.

Cedrik ground his jaw, thinking. It didn't seem likely that Cade would invite them back to a place where he had to force an unlawful entry.

Cade bent down and picked up a st.u.r.dy rock. ”This is going to cost me,” he said, stepping forward as if he meant to put it through the gla.s.s window. They heard a clink of chains and turned to see that Deacon had unlocked the door to the bas.e.m.e.nt.

”Ah, good!” said Cade, tossing the rock aside. He stooped down and heaved open the wooden doors. ”Well, move on,” he said. ”Let's not wait for this one to drop dead.” He led the way down the few steps into a bas.e.m.e.nt filled with wooden boxes and storage cupboards and up a stairwell into an unlit corridor.

Feeling cramped, Cedrik thought the house to be as dreary as the inn they had swapped it for, but when Cade opened the door he saw a neat room, with a fire burning low, and a kettle on the hob.

”Are you certain this is no trouble,” Cedrik began, but dropped into silence. Cade indicated, with a nod of his head, his old grandmother sleeping in a chair. A frayed blanket was draped over her thin legs. The boys immediately lightened their step and, like thieves in the night, made their way toward the staircase.

Cade had got one foot on the first step when his grandmother stirred. Almost b.u.mping into one another's backs, they froze as if caught in some act of mischief. Sitting forward in her chair, she couldn't clearly see in the subdued light. Not wanting her to be afraid, Cade said casually, ”Go back to sleep. It's only me. Some friends of mine are going to stay with us awhile.”

Cedrik almost swallowed his tongue. He would never speak to his mother so presumptuously, and quickly added, ”If it doesn't prove an inconvenience.”

Cade shook his head with a look that said: ”Belly-crawler.”

Cedrik's good manners were lost on the old woman. She gave a derisive snort and stared. Her gaze lingered particularly on Deacon who, looking ill, kept his head down, his lips white and compressed. Standing, he began to grow excessively weary.

”Get away now.” She waved her hand and closed her eyes, sinking into her arm-chair. ”Mind you don't keep one another awake with your foolishness,” she muttered, as though speaking to children. Cade stared blankly at the old woman, sound asleep as though she hadn't once stirred, then turned swiftly and led his guests up stairs.

In the dark room, Cedrik's foot caught on something that almost sent him down. He cursed and stood still until he could see. When their host struck a light, Cedrik saw they had entered a room in the most astounding disorder, worse than Derek could ever hope to achieve. Deacon was sufficiently disgusted but crashed into the bed on the far side. It was the only one free from clutter.

”That's my bed,” said Cade, but Deacon had fallen into a sleep that was more like unconsciousness. Looking incredulous, Cade set to work clearing off the other two beds. Cedrik and Derek watched him toss everything onto the floor, adding to the general disorder. ”My brothers used to share this room with me,” he said to make conversation, recklessly tossing things over his shoulder.

”There's only three beds,” Derek said with dismay, knowing he would be the one to have to sleep on the floor with the rats.

”One of you can sleep next door in my sister's room,” answered Cade simply, then threw a dirty s.h.i.+rt at Derek's face. ”I'm the only one left with the old woman.”

”Where is she now, your sister?” asked Derek, aghast at the idea of sleeping in a bed belonging to someone deceased.

”One of my sisters,” said Cade, ”lives with my parents. She stays here sometimes. The rest are round and about. My brothers and sisters all sort of went their own ways.”

”Just how many brothers and sisters do you have?” asked Cedrik.

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