The Void Trilogy 3-Book Bundle

by Peter F. Hamilton

  “Us,” Edeard told him. “Lock us in here. That way you will have obeyed your orders to the letter.”

  “What about Mirnatha?”

  “Trust me.”

  For a moment Edeard thought he might refuse and march them all upstairs for Julan and Lorin to sort out. But after a moment of hesitation while his mind showed a huge amount of uncertainty, Homelt ushered them all into the cellar, gave them a pistol each, and shut the door.

  “Far be it for my humble self to criticize,” Macsen said as the bolts were slammed back into place with some force. “But I don’t understand, either.”

  “If we are to rescue Mirnatha alive, it means we won’t be able to take prisoners,” Edeard told them gravely. He brandished a pistol, examining its mechanism with his farsight. “Are you still with me?”

  “We’re with you,” Kanseen said. “But will you please tell us what in all of Honious is going on. I thought we’d gotten past this whole trust thing.”

  Edeard grinned broadly. “This’ll test your trust as nothing else. Step where I do, one at a time. You will feel like you’re falling, but I promise you’re not. If you can’t do this, I’ll think no less of you.” He asked a circle of floor to let him though. It changed. Edeard stepped on it and fell through the blackness into the Great Major Canal tunnel. Once he’d landed on the ledge above the water, he moved to one side and waited.

  It was Boyd who came through first, yelling in shock the whole way until his feet touched the ledge. “Fuck the Lady!” he bellowed in fright-driven excitement.

  Still grinning, Edeard grabbed his friend’s shoulder and dragged him aside as Kanseen came through; little whimpering sounds burped out of her throat as her arms windmilled furiously. She looked around in astonishment. “This is incredible. It’s … I had no idea this existed.”

  Edeard caught her arm and just managed to pull her out of the way of Dinlay’s feet. Dinlay’s eyes were screwed up shut behind his glasses.

  “Waaaahoooo,”Macsen yelled wildly as he dropped through the roof of the tunnel.

  Edeard faced his friends, still unable to wipe the grin off his face. He’d rarely sensed their minds so unguarded, but surprise had left them too jittery to veil their emotions as usual. “So,” he drawled. “You must have been keeping these tunnels from me, what with you city natives knowing everything there is to know about your own home.”

  “You bastard,” Macsen said happily. “What is this?”

  “This is the tunnel under the Great Major Canal; every canal has one.”

  “But how …?” Dinlay was blinking up at the roof of the tunnel, his farsight probing the substance to try to find where they’d come through.

  “I’m the Waterwalker,” Edeard told them. “Remember?”

  “Seriously,” Kanseen asked with a noticeable edge in her voice. “How did we get here?”

  “I’m not sure exactly. I just ask the city, and it lets me through.”

  “You. Just. Ask. The. City.”

  “Yep,” he said, faintly apologetic.

  “After today, you have a lot more explaining to do.”

  Edeard sobered up. “Then let’s get today over with.”

  Their mood followed his down to a more somber level. He started to walk along the tunnel toward Forest Pool. “The fish-smoking business is only one street back from Pink Canal.”

  “So you do have a plan, then?” Macsen said.

  “Yes. The way we come down reverses. The five of us will slide up into the cellars close to where Mirnatha is being held.”

  “You said there’s ten of them.”

  “At least. I’m worried the kidnapper is there as well. He can conceal himself, so we’ll never know for sure until we’re there. The first thing they’ll do at any sign of rescue is kill Mirnatha. It won’t matter how clever I’ve been in finding her or how good we are at sneaking up on them if she’s dead at the end of it all.”

  “Why go up there at all?” Kanseen asked. “Just ask the city to let her fall down here.”

  “First off, she’s shackled to the wall. We’d have to break the chains, and even I can’t do that from down here. Second, there’s no tunnel directly underneath her cellar, not even a drain. We’re going to have to come up in the one next to hers.”

  “Crap,” Boyd muttered.

  “We go up concealed,” Edeard said. “If I can get into the cellar where they’re keeping her, my third hand should be able to protect her from bullets. It’s going to be up to you to cover my back.”

  They splashed across the shallow basin that emulated Forest Pool high above. Edeard could just farsight people gathering along the sides of the canals: children with their flower boats, eager to launch them, and adults still seething over Mirnatha.

  “How many in her cellar?” Kanseen asked.

  “Two that I can sense.” He still wasn’t sure about the kidnapper. The cellar had many old crates and lengths of wood as well as a couple of small benches. If anyone with a concealment was sitting on them, he couldn’t tell. Certainly the cellar floor had no current memory of anyone else standing on it. It would take a long time to filter through the day’s memories.

  “How are you going to get to her, then?”

  “Brute force. As soon as we’re all up there, I make a run for the door. I can smash through it and get in front of her, where I can protect her. Then I just hang on while you take the others out.”

  “And if it goes wrong?”

  “Then we’re all dead and Makkathran has to find someone else to campaign against the gangs.”

  Kanseen gave him a disapproving grin. “You’re going to make a terrible Chief Constable. Grand Councillors are supposed to be smooth and subtle.”

  “You can teach me. You’ll have a hundred years, after all.”

  “No,” she said. “You move quicker than that.”

  Edeard led them along the Pink Canal tunnel, then off into the drain fissure until they were standing underneath the cellar closest to where Mirnatha was being held captive.

  “I can sense her,” Kanseen said excitedly. “The poor thing’s terrified.”

  “Everyone ready?” Edeard asked.

  When they assured him they were, he said: “I think I can do this so we all go up together. Remember, keep yourself concealed until they know I’m there, then take them out. And for the Lady’s sake, don’t call out. You’re not actually falling; it only feels like it.”

  “Wait,” Boyd said. “It feels like we’re falling when we’re going up?”

  “Yes. And no, I don’t know why.”

  Macsen clicked the safety catch off his pistol. “Let’s just go. See you all up there.”

  “All right,” Edeard said. He concealed himself and waited until the others had vanished from his sight, then told the city to take them up.

  The cellar he slid up into was barely high enough for him to stand upright. It was a simple oblong box of a room with dark walls inset with narrow alcoves and a shallow vaulted ceiling of lierne ribs.

  Ancient fishing nets and tishcrab cages were piled up along one wall. One doorway opened onto a spiral stair up to the smoking caverns above. The kidnappers were sitting at two wooden tables in front of it, slowly consuming a quantity of food. There was no beer or wine, just water, Edeard saw. Whoever had organized this had chosen well. These men had ruthless discipline; they’d use the pistols resting on the table without a qualm. Just standing among them made him worry for the squad.

  One of them started to look around the room, frowning. “Did you hear something?”

  Edeard made for the half-open door. He wiggled his way through the gap, not daring to breathe. Behind him, the kidnappers were picking their pistols off the table. Powerful longtalk voices were directing questions at the guards upstairs.

  Edeard looked along the low corridor. The smell of fish and oak smoke was heavy in the air. Directly opposite him was a door to the cellar where Mirnatha was being held. It was made from tyewood planks three inches thick, wit
h iron hinges that had been reset in the walls recently. There were heavy bolts on either side, and both sets were drawn shut. He braced himself against the wall, summoned up the full strength of his third hand, then leaped forward.

  His concealment dropped as he was halfway across the corridor. The door burst apart as he smashed it with his third hand, putting up no more resistance than if it had been made of glass.

  There was a shout in the cellar behind: “Hey!” as their farsight caught him. Then he was through the smashed door and folding his third hand protectively around the dazed little girl.

  Three pistol shots boomed out behind him, appallingly loud in the confines of the underground chambers. His farsight caught Kanseen flickering into view behind one of the kidnappers sitting at the table. He was rising to his feet. Kanseen’s pistol was aimed at the back of his skull. She pulled the trigger, and his face exploded outward in a spray of gore. Kanseen vanished again. Dinlay was firing into the side of another kidnapper, his mind ablaze with rage and fear. He vanished. Macsen appeared on the other side of the cellar.

  Edeard’s pistol was swinging around to line up on one of the two men guarding Mirnatha as he charged across the cellar. It was hardly a perfect aim, but he fired anyway, getting off four shots. More pistol shots echoed around him. Shouts and longtalk howls behind him created a bedlam of white noise. The guard he’d shot at grunted in shock and stared down at his tunic to see a huge stain of blood spreading across his chest. Two bullets punched Edeard, knocking him to one side. One bullet hit his third hand directly above Mirnatha’s head. Then he was squashed up against her, closing his arms around her shaking shoulders as she screamed. More pistol shots. One, fired by the uninjured guard, slammed into his neck. Edeard reached out with his third hand, his strength shoving through the man’s own shield. He ripped at the man’s brain. The skull cracked, and blood pulsed out of his ears as he crumpled to the ground.

  Another bullet smacked into Edeard. He shifted his farsight focus to see the injured guard slumped against a wall, holding his pistol up, arm waving about. He was drawing breath in feeble gulps as his blood spilled onto the floor. Edeard’s third hand wrenched the gun from his numb fingers and rotated it a hundred eighty degrees. He pulled the trigger.

  Three more shots from outside, and the shouting cut off.

  “Edeard?” Macsen shouted.

  “All right! In here.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Wait,” he ordered, tightening his physical hold around the girl, keeping his shield as hard as rock. Mirnatha had fainted. He instinctively knew something was wrong. After the first guard had gone down, the second one had fired. Two shots had struck him, and a third had been aimed at Mirnatha. They couldn’t possibly have come from just one pistol.

  The squad members were tumbling out of the cellar opposite.

  “Wait,” he called again. “Don’t come in.”

  “What’s happening?” Boyd demanded.

  Edeard knew he should have been delighted that all his friends were alive. Instead he scanned around and around the room, looking for the slightest telltale sign. The cellar floor revealed nothing. There were no human feet standing on it. Edeard used his third hand to shatter the bench the guards had been using. Nothing. He crunched the second bench and all the chairs. “Lady!”

  He lifted up a length of splintered wood and sent it scything around the room. Kanseen and Dinlay were crouched halfway down the corridor, pistols held ready, their faces registering bewilderment as their farsight followed his actions. Edeard swung the wood through three orbits of the cellar without connecting with anything. He scraped it along the wall at waist height, jabbing it viciously into every alcove as he performed a complete circuit. Again, nothing.

  “You’re good,” he acknowledged, and reached out with his farsight to feel what the cellar floor and walls were feeling, hunting for that elusive pressure of human feet. His perception swept back and forth. Then, finally, the last kidnapper was revealed.

  “Very clever,” Edeard said, and meant it. He turned around, still keeping Mirnatha centered within his protective telekinesis. He aimed his pistol up at the ceiling to one side of the door and fired the remaining two shots in quick succession.

  The kidnapper’s concealment fizzled out as the bullets struck, revealing him clinging to the small lierne ribs like a human spider. He fell inertly to the floor, landing with a dull crack. It was the same man who’d snatched Mirnatha from her room.

  Edeard walked over to him and stared down. “She is six years old, and you used her,” he exclaimed in disgust.

  The man’s mouth opened. Blood spilled out. He somehow managed a small sneer. “Rot in Honious,” a weak longtalk sputtered. Then his thoughts dimmed. Edeard kept his farsight on those final flutters of emotion, searching for the slightest hint of regret. Some explanation of how a person could be so cold.

  More blood bubbled out of the kidnapper’s mouth as he exhaled for the last time. Yet Edeard could still sense his thoughts, enfeebled wisps of their original strength and pattern. The body had died, but they persisted. Then they moved.

  Edeard gulped in shock and took a step back as the kidnapper’s soul diffused gracefully out of his body. The spectral entity hovered over the corpse for a few moments, then ascended into the ceiling and was lost to Edeard’s farsight.

  “Did you sense that?” he asked the squad in astonishment.

  “Edeard?” Kanseen asked. “Is it safe?”

  “Uh, yeah. That was his soul, wasn’t it?”

  “His soul?” She edged cautiously across the remnants of the door. Any curiosity was instantly forgotten as she saw Mirnatha.

  “Whose soul?” Macsen asked brashly as he followed Kanseen in.

  Edeard couldn’t take his eyes off the ceiling where the soul had vanished. “The kidnapper’s.”

  “Did you get shot?” Macsen asked in concern.

  “No.”

  A moan from Mirnatha succeeded in drawing Edeard’s attention back down. “Don’t let her see this,” he blurted. “Are all of you okay?”

  “Oh, nowyou ask,” Boyd joshed.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Dinlay said. His constable tunic was covered in blood.

  Edeard’s third hand snapped the iron shackles around Mirnatha’s wrists. Kanseen blinked at the nonchalant show of strength. “You carry her,” she said, stroking the girl’s brow, gentle with concern. Her hand and sleeve were speckled with arterial blood.

  “But—”

  “This is your victory,” Kanseen insisted.

  Edeard nodded. “Thank you. All of you.”

  Boyd’s solemn face broke into a wild smile. “By the Lady; we got her! We bloody did it.”

  They were all laughing in shaky relief as Edeard scooped up the small child and carried her out of the cellar. People were crowding around the top of the stairs as he made his way out of the smoking chambers: workers and family members with worried faces and probing farsight. That worry changed to consternation as the Waterwalker himself emerged into their midst. They backed off fast.

  “No good trying to hide,” Boyd said as they made their way out through the shop at the front of the building. “The local constables will be calling.” He paused. “That’s if the Culverit family guards don’t pay you a visit first.”

  Edeard stepped out into the midday sun, blinking at how bright it was. It seemed as if he hadn’t been outside in the light for a week, yet it was less than an hour since Homelt had taken them to the mansion’s cellar. He got his bearings swiftly enough and started walking down Layne Street.

  Mirnatha stirred as they turned into Arnold Avenue, heading for Pink Canal. She started suddenly, looking around frantically.

  “It’s all right,” Edeard told her. “We’re taking you home to your family. Your father and sister are worried about you.”

  She gave him a wide-eyed stare. “You’re the Waterwalker.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “They took—” she crie
d. “I was in a dark room. I couldn’t farsee anything. They were horrible—I—I—”

  “It’s over. Look. It’s a bright sunny day. We should be back at your home in time for you to see the flower boats.”

  She clung to him. “What happened to the bad men?”

  “You won’t see them again, I promise.”

  There were a lot of people lined up along the side of the canal, standing at least six deep as they waited for the end of the ceremony in the Lady’s grand church. It was mostly excited children at the front, clutching their flower boats, with parents standing behind, pleading and warning them not to put their craft into the water until the Pythia was finished. Edeard actually smiled as he finally saw the multitude of flower boats being held ready. They were spectacularly beautiful, from endearing little paper craft with a couple of daisies clutched by toddlers to elaborate vessels with a rainbow of blooms crafted by proud older children. Their happy faces were wonderfully uplifting.

  He started to make his way through the crowd. Heads swiveled in his direction. Surprise turned to shock when they saw the squad, uniforms covered in blood, tired yet cheerful, with the Waterwalker himself carrying the kidnapped girl, who smiled up at him with shy adulation. Silence fell. The crowd parted, giving him a clear path to the mooring platform at the end of the avenue.

  Someone started clapping. Whispers of amazement turned to exultant longtalk and shouts of approval. More people were joining the applause.

  “It’s the Waterwalker.”

  “They’ve rescued the girl!”

  “Mirnatha is alive.”

  “Dear Lady, look at the blood.”

  “It’s his whole squad.”

  “They did it; they saved her.”

  Three gondolas were secured to the platform, each of them garlanded with hundreds of snow-white flowers. Edeard stepped onto the first boat as the gondolier took his hat off and held it to his chest, staring at Mirnatha. “Get us to her mansion,” Edeard told him.

  “But the festival …”

  “The Pythia’s ceremony isn’t over yet. And I think Mirnatha deserves to go home, don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir. Of course.” He picked up his oar.