“What? I've never so much as raised a finger to Abaddon, nor would I!”
“Not with your hands Spitemorta, but you've been right harmful all the same...you and that awful grandmother of yours...and your lapdog, Samuel.”
“James!” she said with a gasp of shocked innocence. “You've gone mad! It seems my absence was more than you could handle. Making allowances, I could overlook some of this since you obviously care about our son in spite of how misguided you may be. But I will not tolerate slurs against myself, my family or my personal aide!” she shouted, furiously springing to her feet. “I give you one last chance to take back what you've said, beg forgiveness and tell me what you've done with my son!”
“Sit Down!” he roared.
She sat with a wide-eyed bounce.
“I'm not done,” he said, studying her momentary speechlessness. He shook his head. “No, I'm not about to take back anything. I'm furious, but I'm quite aware of what I'm doing. If it helps, I'm not about to harm Abaddon. I merely said that you might not see him again. And from what I've seen, he'd be better off out of the reaches of a mother like you.”
A look of fury flashed in Spitemorta's eyes. “How can you say such things to me, James?” she said, suddenly looking down at her belly in wounded disbelief. “Here I am about to give birth to our twins and you accuse me of being a horrible mother.”
“Fates help them,” he said, turning aside at once to look through the doorway to his sitting room.
“So just what is it, exactly, that you imagine I've done to our son, James?” she said softly.
He turned quickly to find her on her feet, right behind him. “Do you know what Abaddon likes to do nowadays for fun, Spitemorta?” he said, looking squarely into her cold eyes. “If he can't find any of the servants' children to frighten or hurt... He is the most cold blooded bully. Can you believe, I actually caught him putting out a puppy's eyes! Beatrice's little girl got a new puppy for her fourth birthday. Abaddon said she didn't deserve a birthday and punctured the poor thing's eyes! He was giggling...giggling! But that's not the least of it. He likes to sneak away, down to the dungeon to watch your henchman, Samuel torture the prisoners.”
“That's ridiculous,” she said as a hint of a smile flickered across her face. You're making that up and Samuel is not my henchman.”
“This amuses you?”
“No! You're crazy! You're imagining things! Just like you're inventing all this!”
“No sweetheart, I am not making it up!” he shouted, thrusting his face toward hers. “I found him in the dungeon, grinning and bouncing for all he was worth, just like he was about to win something, just as though someone had finally given him a gift he'd been yearning for, as he watched Samuel stretching Lance on the rack.” He stepped away from her, turned a tight circle and came back. “You've been having Samuel torture people behind my back. It was my following Abaddon down there over and over that let me know. What? You didn't think I'd find out? Ha! I can see by the look on your face that you did not! Well, guess what else I've learnt about you? You murdered my father!”
“James,” said Spitemorta, in a tone of voice fit for helping him up after a fall down the stairs. “You've lost your mind. I'm sorry I was gone so long. Let's get you settled and then I'll go for a physician. You need something to help calm you. I'm sure that with the best healers and given time, you'll recover completely.”
“Very clever of you to stab him after you'd poisoned him,” he said, vehemently resuming as though she had not spoken. “I guess you realized I'd not so likely make connections between father's death and the murder of your parents.”
“What kind of babble is this, James? You know very well that your father was stabbed to death by Myrtlebell. There was a witness, remember? Florence Dustben was her name, I believe...”
“More of your lies, Spitemorta. Florence Dustben is a made up name. My parents never had anyone with a name like that in their service. But there was indeed an eyewitness to your crime. I know every last detail about how you poisoned my father and then laughed at him and watched him die as he begged you to send for his physician.” James stopped wide eyed at the sight of Spitemorta's quivering lower lip as her composure crumpled.
“I did it for you, James,” she said in a low monotone. “You were so bloomin' oblivious to what was going on with your father and his stinking crwydryn. Had I not done something you'd be no more than joint ruler of Goll. Myrtlebell had a baby on the way James, and she and your father had every intention of removing you and putting their new little bastard on the throne of Loxmere.”
“Right wise of them,” he spat, “trying to make sure that you'd never rule Loxmere!”
Spitemorta drew back like an asp. “Enough!” she shouted as she lunged past him into the echoes of the dark hallway. “You will regret this James!”
James stared after her only long enough for her to vanish. “Time to leave, time to leave,” he said, turning at once to his wardrobe to hurriedly grab at clothes. “Maybe 'way past time.”
Chapter 103
Lance shifted on his saddle in the thick whirling snow and gathered his collar over his muffler as he peered from under his hat at the top of the mountain. “Well Abaddon,” he called out cheerfully over the wind, “we'll be over the top directly and we'll be getting out of this weather!”
“My momma's goin' 'o kill you for stealing me away from her,” said Abaddon with a baleful snarl. “And when I tell her all about it, she'll hurt you a whole lot for a long, long time before she stops your heart.”
“Oh, she'll have to catch us first,” said Lance buoyantly, as a shudder ran through him.
“She'll catch you, all right! Oh, yes she will! And it'll be a lot of fun!”
“After five long days in the cold, it's a mercy we won't have to sleep out in this,” thought Lance with another shudder as the unicorns stepped their way up, crunching loose shards of stone through the new layer of snow. Having grown up here, he was familiar with the sudden fierce winter storms up in the Pitmaster's Kettles. He glanced aside at Abaddon. In spite of how good he'd always been with children, the boy unnerved him. “I'll do it for James,” he thought, wishing he did not have to.
Abaddon looked up at him with a red-eyed glower, as if he knew exactly what he had just been thinking, giving him a sudden bristle of goose flesh.
He quickly turned away. “Surely he doesn't read thoughts. I've never heard that Spitemorta does.” He looked back again to suddenly feel guilty for thinking all of this at the sight of Abaddon looking right at him with the innocent smile of a boy on an adventure. He smiled back and began searching for the path over the top. “Here we go!” he called out. “Right yonder! Just keep Sheba close to Stepper and we'll soon be out of the weather in the heart of this ol' mountain!”
“What do you mean? You don't mean we're going clean inside it, do you?”
“Sure do,” said Lance with a nod. “This is a vulcan mountain. Its top was once a cauldron of melted red-hot rock. If it weren't for the snow, you'd see frozen rivers of rock running down it's sides from long ago. That's what all the black rock between the trees was, 'way back down below, before we ever started up here. The top of each one of these mountains for miles and miles is a deep pit. that's why they're called the Pitmaster's
Kettles. And here we are.” He slapped his hand onto his hat in the furious wind at the very top of the slope as his unicorn hesitated between a pair of boulders on the rim, stepping restlessly from side to side before finding his first steps of the steep decent beyond.
“See out yonder? the whole top of this mountain is naught but a giant deep hole. And here we go, on the path right down into the mountain, but you watch out and keep Sheba close behind. I don't want you falling off the side. It's a long way down.”
“I better not fall. My momma would kill you even worse if I did.”
“Yea, and your dad wouldn't be too happy either.”
Abaddon gave a contemptuous snort, but quickly donned a
look of excited expectancy in spite of himself. Soon they were below the wind, carefully finding their way down the narrow path, knocking loose rocks to go skittering and bounding off into the depths. He anxiously peered down into the crater, but strain as he might, he could not see the bottom. “Hey,” he demanded. “It's gettin' darker and darker. How are we going to see? In fact, what's going to keep us from falling off?”
“Stepper and Sheba. The unicorns see a lot better in the dark than we do and they're completely sure-footed if you don't rush them. They'll find their way. Besides, it'll get lighter before long.”
“You're crazy. It's been getting darker and darker.”
“Well, when you get down far enough, there's quite a lot of glow lichen growing, though we're not far enough to tell it yet. Have you noticed it getting warmer?”
“The wind's died down is all. It's not any warmer.”
“Well, what do you suppose happened to all the snow, Abby?”
“You're not allowed to say things like that! You're supposed to call me 'Your Highness!'“
“Well, maybe when you earn it...”
Abaddon drew a breath for a furious shout, but fell silent with a gasp at the sudden sight of a faint glow, far below in the blackness.
***
James frantically threw on his girdle, scabbard and sheath, hands trembling as he fitted in first his saber and then his dirk. Withdrawing and seating them each again with a smack, he huffed out a resolute breath. “She's not back yet,” he said, as he threw on his cloak. “Maybe I'll get out of here after all.” He grabbed up his panniers and charged out the door, knocking Spitemorta flat onto the floor in the hallway.
“Ow!” she shrieked, kicking him away from her with all of her might before rolling aside in a wide-eyed horror to grab for the Staff where she had dropped it on the carpet. “James! You idiot gnoff! You great stinking oaf! Help me up at once!”
James stopped rubbing at his cheekbone and went wide-eyed himself, just in time to lunge forth and tramp down on the Staff with all his weight. Though he had never seen it before, one look at her face had told him that it was a tool of magic and mortal power. He gave the shudder of one who has just pinned a venomous snake and grabbed up the Staff and held it aloft in one hand as he fended off her grasping lunges with his other. At once he sprang away from her as she heaved herself to her feet to glare at him with rage.
“James,” she said, suddenly as gentle as if she had merely been offering him a bowl of soup by the fire all along, “how can you treat the mother of your children so horribly? Can't you see that I'm weary from travel and frantic about Abaddon? Have you no feeling left at all for the woman who carries your twins?”
James barked out a sharp one note laugh. “What sort of fool do you take me for, Spitemorta?” he said, gasping with a face of wide-eyed incredulity. “Here you are, knocked flat on your way to do me in for taking away Abaddon, and now that I've got your magic stick away from you, you come wheedling to your 'idiot gnoff' for overlooking your exalted motherhood. Twins. I rue wasting two lives by putting them at your mercy. I no doubt shall pay for it for the rest of my life. I defile my own breath by even talking to you. I'm leaving and you're on your own.” He hefted the Staff.
“No!” she yelped, flinging out an imploring hand. “You can't leave me, James! I'm great with child, with your very twins. Surely you don't mean this? You're distraught. I understand how you might be, but surely you truly know that I could not possibly have done the things you think I've done. You know very well I'd never teach Abaddon to do horrid or cruel things. It had to be Samuel's doing. It was a mistake for him to be my aide. I foolishly thought that since he had been born here in this very castle and his family had always served my parents well that he could be trusted. Can you blame me?” She held out her arms piteously as she took another step.
James wheeled away in disgust, setting off down the hall, firmly holding aloft the Staff.
“James!” she cried, as her voice rang down the hallway. “I'll prove it! I'll make Samuel tell you the truth with his awful mouth! I'll order his execution myself!”
James stopped short and turned back. “Don't bother, sweetheart.”
“Why?” she cried, hurrying after to shrink back at the sight of his cold eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I've heard Samuel's tale already, and it's just the opposite of yours.”
“Of course. What did you expect? He just wanted to save his neck. He needs a bit of his own medicine. I can make him...”
“Oh, we doctored him up right smart with his own medicine, dear. He earned that for what I caught him doing to Lance, and even more for encouraging Abaddon to follow around and watch.”
A sudden grin stole across Spitemorta's stunned look.
“You revolting witch!” roared James. “How could you look so smug! Whatever is running through your heart is some version of pure evil! I did not enjoy it! And thank the Fates it didn't take much at all. Bullies crumble all at once when it's their turn.”
“You fool,” she sneered. “Samuel told you what you wanted to hear and you fell for it, you weakling.”
James shook his head with a wave of exhaustion at the thought of how foolish he'd been, staying here instead of going with Lance and Abaddon. “Nay. You're the fool, sweetheart, if you think I didn't know what he'd do well before I started with him...”
“Then you've no proof at all for your accusations, James. They're utterly groundless...”
“And you interrupted me. I was about to say that spineless as Samuel is, his story was entirely verified by a source that even you would consider impeccable...”
“And just who was this?”
“Abaddon.”
Spitemorta jerked as if slapped. “You lie!” she shrieked.
“No, no. You do,” he said crisply as he turned on his heel and sped away, clutching the Staff, knowing in his very bones that if she did not get it back, he might manage to leave Goll on his feet instead of in a coffin.
***
The growing greenish yellow light below was far too exciting for Abaddon to maintain his defiance. He sat up with keen interest and strained to watch it grow as they ambled down to meet it. “It's sure getting a lot warmer down here than I thought it would, Lance,” he said, speaking up, calling Lance by name for the first time.
“Well, we are a very long way down,” said Lance over his shoulder above the echoing crunch of cinders under the unicorn's hooves. “Be careful if you take off any wraps. Drop something and you'll never find it again. The heat down here is due to a big hot spring. You won't need a waist at all when you're all the way down.”
“This is an awful place! I want to go back home and see my momma. She's goin' 'o be really, really mad if anything happens to me down in this stinkin' hole.”
“Well now, here you had me thinking you were starting to get interested in what was down here,” said Lance as he gave a sigh and set his jaw. “It wouldn't be half bad if I could see a particle of James in the little curse, he thought. But I certainly don't. It's as though Spitemorta waved a wand and created him all by herself. James sure has his job cut out for him.”
“Yea? That's 'cause you're stupid. You stole me away, remember? I didn't come here because I wanted to. So what is this place, really? The entrance to the Pit or what?”
Lance threw back his head with a laugh. “And just what would a foul natured little whelp like you know about the Pit?” he said, turning around to look at Abaddon's face in the growing light.
Abaddon scowled, obviously stung by Lance laughing at him. He drew himself up and glared. “I know enough,” he said, haughtily.
“Well, this mountain we're down in is called Bedd or Mount Bedd. The name comes from Bedd Chwiorydd Tair.”
Abaddon seemed not to be listening. He was busy looking from side to side as if he were memorizing every inch of the way. “What's that bright glowing stuff on the rocks? Is it what's making the light?”
“That's exactly right.
They call it glow lichen. It's some kind of plant I think, but it's alive anyway, and it is indeed what's lighting up everything down below. You'll see it everywhere before long.”
Soon they reached the bottom, a floor of fallen boulders and twisted ropes of stone, like a colossal bowl of taffy. The unicorns clopped and scuffled in the echoing ambience, slowing to little lunges and careful steps over the uneven surface across the expanse to the first of three huge tunnels, well lit with glow lichen, which opened into walls of the crater.
Lance drew Stepper to a halt and motioned for Abaddon to stop at the sight of some dark furry something scurrying and leaping from stone to stone across the floor.
“A giant rat!” cried Abaddon with a gasp, as the little beast hurried forth with its rat feet and long naked tail to halt before them and rise up on its haunches. “It has a man's face!”
“Hoy there Rodon,” said Lance with a polite nod. “What tidings bring you from the Ladies?”
“Wolcome agayne, of cours,” he said with a chuckle and a dignified bow. “Thaire Ladyschipes kneu hit was thou the moment thou sterted doun. They anxiously awaite thee and thy yonge companyoun wythinne thaire grotto, Lance.” He turned at once with a most rodent-like wiggle of his nose to study Abaddon.
“Thank you Rodon,” said Lance with a bow before turning to Abaddon. “We need to dismount. We're walking the rest of the way...”
“I don't want to get anywhere near that thing,” said Abaddon.
“You'll dismount!” said Lance sharply. “And you'll apologize to Rodon when I have the time to see that you do.”
Abaddon folded his arms and obstinately shook his head. Lance got down with a swing of his leg and in two strides swept Abaddon firmly off his saddle and hauled him kicking and screaming to the ground.
Rodon sat up on his haunches. “Ich shal haste forth and telle thaire Ladyshipes thou comest anon,” he said with a twitch of his nose as his dark eyes darted about anxiously. He hesitated and then raced away into the nearest tunnel.
Lance nodded to Rodon and turned back to Abaddon who was now kicking him in the shins and swearing like a seaman. He immediately turned Abaddon over his knee and gave him a half-dozen smart swats, stood him on his feet and grabbed him by the shoulders to look him in the eye. “You shall obey me or suffer the consequences, whelp! You were put in my charge by your father and therefore it's my job to correct you, which I will do every time! Do you understand?”
Heart of the Staff - Complete Series Page 114
