The Queen was white-faced; she turned on the Warden. "What is this? Where is she?"
His voice was icy. "I have no idea, madam. But I suggest ..."
He stopped. His gray eyes met Jared's through the agitated crowd.
They looked at each other and in the sudden growing hush the crowd noticed and fell back between them, as if people feared to stand in that corridor of anger.
The Warden said, "Master Jared. Do you know where my daughter is?"
Jared managed a small smile. "I regret I cannot say, sir. But I can say this. She has decided against the wedding." The crowd was utterly silent.
Her eyes glittering with wrath, the Queen said, "She's jilted my son?"
He bowed. "She has changed her mind. It was sudden, and she felt she could not face either of you. She has left the Palace. She begs your indulgence."
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Claudia would hate that last, he thought, but he had to be so careful. He steeled himself for the reaction. The Queen gave a laugh of pure venom; she turned on the "warden." My dear John, what a blow for you! After all your plans and schemes! I have to say I never thought it a very good idea. She was so ... unsuitable. You chose your replacement so badly."
The "wardens eyes never left Jared's, and the Sapient felt that basilisk stare slowly petrify his courage." Where has she gone?
Jared swallowed. "Home."
"Alone?"
"Yes."
"In a carriage?"
"On horseback."
The Warden turned. "A patrol after her. At once!" Did he believe it? Jared wasn't sure.
"Of course I pity your domestic troubles," the Queen said cruelly, "but you realize that I will never suffer an insult like this again. There will be no wedding, Warden, even if she comes back crawling on her hands and knees."
Caspar muttered, "Scheming ungrateful bitch," but his mother silenced him with a look.
"Clear the chamber," she said sharply. "I want everyone out."
As if it was a signal, an uproar of voices burst out, excited questions, shocked whispers.
Through it all Jared stood still, and the Warden stood
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watching him, and there was a look in those eyes the Sapient could not beat now. He turned away.
"You stay." John Arlex's order was hoarse and unrecognizable.
"Warden." Lord Evian pushed up close to them. "I have just heard ... such news ... is it true?"
His affectations were gone; he was pale with intensity. "True. She's gone." The Warden spared him one grim glance. It's over.
"Then ... the Queen?"
"Remains the Queen."
"But... our plan ..."
The Warden silenced him with a flash of anger. "Enough, man! Don't you hear what I say? Go back to your puffs and perfumes. It's all we have now."
As if he could not understand what had happened, Evian clawed restlessly at his tight ruffled suit, tugging a button loose. "We can't let it end like this."
"We have no choice."
"All our dreams. The end of Protocol." He reached his hand inside the coat. "I can t. I won't."
He moved in before Jared realized what was happening, the knife flashing out, slashing down at the Queen. As she turned, it caught her high on the shoulder; she screamed in shock. Instantly the cloth of gold was running with blood, small spatterings and trickles that welled up as she gasped
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and clawed at Caspar, stumbling into the arms of courtiers. "Guards!" the Warden cried. He whipped out his sword. Jared turned.
Evian was staggering back, the pink suit smeared with blood. He must have seen he had failed; the Queen was hysterical but not dead, and there was no chance to strike again. At least not at her. Soldiers ran in, their sharp pikes forcing him back in a ring of steel. He stared at Jared without seeing him, at the Warden, at Caspar's pale terror.
"I do this for freedom," he said calmly. "In a world that offers none."
With a swift accuracy he turned the knife and with both hands thrust it into his heart. He crumpled over it, crashed down, juddered a moment and was still. As Jared pushed past the guards and bent over him, he saw death had been almost instant; blood was still slowly welling through the silk cloth.
He gazed down, horrified, at the plump face, the staring eyes.
"Stupid," the Warden said behind him. "And weak." He reached down and hauled Jared up, turning him roughly.
"Are you weak, Master Sapient? I have always thought so. We'll see now if I was tight." He looked at the guard. "Take the Master to his room and lock him in. Bring me any devices that are there. Post two men outside. He is not to leave, and will receive no visitors."
"Sire." The man bowed.
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The Queen had been hustled out and the crowd scattered; all at once the great Chamber seemed empty. The garlands of flowers and orange blossom drifted slightly in the breeze from the open windows. As Jared was led to the door he stepped on spilled petals and sticky sweetmeats; the detritus of a wedding that would never happen.
Just before they pushed him out, he looked back and saw the Warden standing with both hands on the high fireplace, leaning over the empty hearth. His hands were clenched fists on the white marble.
***
NOTHING HAPPENED but a white light. When Claudia opened her eyes, they stung; her sight was watery, and small dark spots floated there for a minute, dimming the walls of the cell.
It was certainly a cell. It stank. The smell was so strong, she retched and then tried nor to breathe again, the reek of damp and urine and rotting bodies and straw.
The straw was all around her; she was sitting in it, and a flea jumped out of it onto her hand. With a hiss of disgust she jumped up and shook it off, shivering and scratching.
So this was Incarceron.
It was just as she'd expected.
The cell was stone-walled and the stones were carved with ancient names and dates, filmed with milky lichens and a fur of algae. Above, the groined vault was lost in darkness. There
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was one window, high in the wall, but it seemed to be covered. Nothing else. But the cell door was open.
Claudia took another breath, trying not to cough. The cell was silent, a heavy, oppressive silence that was cold and clammy. A listening silence. And in the corner of the cell, she saw an Eye. A small red Eye that watched her impassively.
She felt normal. No tingling or sickness. She looked at herself, her hands clutching the Key. Was she really so minute? Or was any notion of size relative--was this normality and the Realm outside a place of giants?
She crossed to the door. It had not been locked for a long time. Chains hung from it, but they were corroded into a mass with rust, and the hinges were eaten away so that the door hung at an angle. She ducked under it, into the passageway.
It was stone-flagged and filthy, and k stretched into darkness.
She looked at the Key, operated the imager. "Finn?" she whispered. Nothing happened. Only, far off down the corridor, something hummed. A low-pitched whine, like a machine being activated. She flicked the Key off hastily, her heart thudding. "Is that you?"
Nothing.
She took two steps, then stopped. The sound came again, just ahead, a soft, oddly questing sound. She saw a red Eye open, turn slowly through a half circle, then stop and swivel back toward her. She kept very still.
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"I see you," a voice said softly. "I recognize you." Not Finns. Not anyone she knew.
"I never forget any of my children. But you haven't been here for a while. I'm not sure I understand that."
Claudia wiped her cheek with a grimy hand. "Who are you? I can't see you."
"Yes you can. You're standing on me, breathing me."
She stepped back, staring down, but there was only the stone floor, the darkness.
The red Eye watched her. She breathed a sickening breath. "You're the Prison."
"I am." It sounded fascinated. "And you are the Wardens daughter."
She couldn't speak. Jared had said it was an intelligence, but she hadn't realized it would be like this.
"Shall we help each other, Claudia Arlexa?" The voice was calm and had a slight echo. "You are looking for Finn and his friends. Isn't that right?"
"Yes." Should she have said that?
"I will lead you to them."
"The Key will do that."
"Don't use the Key. It interferes with my systems."
Was she mistaken, or had that been hurried, almost annoyed? She began to walk on slowly, into the dark corridor. "I see. And what do you want in return?"
A sound. It could have been a sigh, or a soft laugh. "Not a
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question I have been asked before. I want you to tell me what is Outside. Sapphique promised faithfully that he would come back and tell me, but he never has. Your father does not speak of it. I begin to wonder, in my heart of hearts, if there even is an Outside, or whether Sapphique passed only into death and you live in a place here I am unable to detect. I have a billion Eyes and senses, and yet I cannot see out. It is not only the inmates who dream of Escape, Claudia. But then, how can I escape from myself?"
She came to a corner. The passageway forked in two, both dark and dripping, and identical. She frowned and held the Key tightly. "I don't know. It's pretty much what I'm trying to do. All right. Take me to Finn. And as we go I'll tell you what's Outside."
Lights flickered on ahead. "This way." She paused. "You do really know where they are? This isn't a trick?"
Silence. Then, "Oh Claudia. How angry your father will be with you. When he finds out."
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***
He fell all day and all night. He fell into a pit of darkness. He fell like a stone falls, like a bird with broken wings, like an angel cast down. His landing bruised the world.
--Legends of Sapphique
***
"It's changed." Keiro looked intently at the Key. "The colors." Finn lifted the crystal into a glimmer of light. The red lights were humming, flickering into a muted rainbow. The Key seemed warmer in his hand.
"Maybe she's Inside."
"Then why doesn't she talk to us?"
Ahead, Gildas turned, a limping shadow in the darkness. "Is this the way? Finn?"
He had no idea. The wreckage of the ship was far behind; the cube had become a funnel, narrowing as they hurried into it, the sides and roof closing in, becoming black faceted stone, the familiar obsidian glint of walls.
"Keep close to me," he muttered. "We don't know how far the protective field goes."
Gildas barely heard. Since he had spoken to Jared the feverish possession of his quest had come over him again; anxiously
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he limped ahead, examining faint scratches on the walls, muttering to himself. He seemed to ignore his injuries, but Finn guessed they were more serious than he let on.
"The old fool's losing it," Keiro muttered in disgust. He turned. "And then there's her."
Attia hung back. She seemed to be walking deliberately slowly; in the shadows she seemed deep in thought.
"That was some stunt she pulled." Keiro walked on. He gave a sharp glance at Finn. "A real blow under the belt."
Finn nodded. Claudia had gone so still. Like someone stabbed with a deep wound keeps still, so as not to feel the pain.
"But," Keiro said, "it means there's a way out. So we can get out too."
"You're heartless. You only ever think about yourself."
"And you, brother." His oathbrother glanced around, alert. "If there is an Outside and you're some sort of king out there, then I'm guarding you like gold. Prince Keiro sounds good to me."
"I'm not sure I can do that... be that."
"You can. It's all pretense. You're a master of lies, Finn." Keiro looked at him sidelong. "You'll be a natural."
For a moment they shared a look. Then Finn said, "Can you hear something?"
A murmur. It drifted down the corridor, a gust of soft voices. Keiro drew his sword. Attia closed up. "What is it?"
"Something ahead." Keiro listened intently, but the sound
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did not come again. Standing still, one hand against the wall, Gildas whispered, "Maybe it's Claudia. She's found us."
"Then she was very quick about it." Keiro walked on softly. "Stay together. Finn, go at the back, and keep the Key safe."
Gildas snorted but took his place between them.
It was a voice. It was speaking somewhere ahead, and as they crept toward it, the passageway became cluttered; great chains lay across it, manacles and shackles, scattered heaps of tools, a broken Beetle on its back. They passed small cells, some with the doors locked, and through the grille in one Finn saw a tiny dark room with rats clambering over an empty plate, a filthy pile of rags in one corner that might have been a body. Everything was still. He felt that this was a place forgotten even by its makers, a corner of itself even Incarceron had overlooked for centuries. Had it been somewhere like this that the Maestra's people had found the Key, with the desiccated bones of the man who had made it, or stolen it?
Stepping around a great pillar he realized he was beginning to forget her. Already it seemed so long ago, and yet the clatter of the bridge, her single look, were still inside him, waiting for him to sleep, to think he was safe. And her pity.
Attia grabbed him; he realized he had been walking past them.
"Stay awake, brother." Keiro's hiss was fierce. Heart thudding, he tried to clear his head. The prickling in his face subsided. He took deep breaths.
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"All right?" Gildas whispered.
He nodded. The fit had nearly crept up on him. It made him feel sick.
Peering around the corner, he stared.
The voice was speaking in a language he had never heard, of clicks and squeaks and stilted syllables. It was addressing Beetles and Sweepers and Flies, and the metallic rats that came out of the walls to carry off corpses. Millions of them crouched motionless on the floor of a great hall, lined ropes and aerial walkways, all of them facing one brilliant star that shone like a spark in the darkness. Incarceron instructed its creatures and the words it spoke were a patchwork of sounds, a poetry of cracks and rumbles.
"Can they hear?" Keiro whispered.
"It's not just words." It was a vibration too, deep in the heart of the darkness, a sound like a vast heart beating, a great clock chiming.
The voice stopped. At once the machines turned and filed away, moving in silent rows into the darkness till the last one was gone, barely making a sound.
Finn moved, but Keiro grabbed him tight.
The Eye still watched. Its light lit the empty hall. Then the voice said softly, "Have you got the Key with you, Finn? Shall I take it now?"
He gasped. He wanted to run, but Keiro's grip said no. Biting his lip, he heard the Prison's low amused chuckle. ''Claudia
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is Inside. Did you know that? Of course I intend to keep you both apart. I am so vast, it will be only too easy. Won't you speak to me, Finn?"
"It's not sure we're here," Keiro muttered.
"It sounds sure to me."
He had an irrational urge to step out from the Key's protection, to open his arms and go out. But Keiro wouldn't let go, and wriggled around to Attia. "Back. Quickly."
"Of course I am only a machine," Incarceron said acidly.
"Unlike you. Or are you? Are you all so pure? Perhaps I should try a little experiment of my own."
Keiro shoved him, panicking. "Run!"
It was too late. There was a hiss and a crack. The sword flew out of Keiro's hand and clanged against the wall, held there upside down.
And Finn was hauled back, slammed against the stones, the Key in his belt pinning him there, the dagger he held whipping his arm flat with enormous power.
"Ah. Now I feel you, Finn. Now I feel your fear."
He couldn't move. For a moment of terror he thought he was being sucked
into the very fabric of the wall; then Gildas was there tugging at him, and he let go of the knife and his hand came free, and he realized the wall had become a magnet. Scraps of iron, flakes of bronze were flying in a fierce horizontal blizzard; the wall became clotted instantly with tools, chainwork, vast links. Finn ducked, cursing, as one
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clanged right next to his ear. "Get me off!" he screamed.
His body was crushed between the Key and the magnet.
Gildas already had hold of the crystal; the old man dug his heels and gasped, "Help me," and Attia's small hands grabbed tight. Slowly, as if they were tugging it away from invisible fingers they pulled the weight of the Key from him and he fell forward, stumbling.
"Go. Go!"
Incarceron laughed its deep laugh. "But you can't go. Not without your brother."
Poised to flee, he stopped.
Keiro was standing by the wall. He had one hand oddly propped against it, the back of his hand to the black surface. For a moment Finn thought he was trying to pry away the sword and yelled "Leave that!" but then Keiro turned and gave him a look of cold fury.
"It's not the sword."
Finn caught his oathbrother's arm and pulled. It was held tight.
"Let go."
"I'm not holding anything," Keiro said. He turned his face away. Finn looked closer.
"But..."
His brother twisted to look at him and Finn was shocked by the anger in his eyes. "It's me, Finn. Don't you realize? Are you that stupid? Me!"
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The fingernail of his right forefinger. It was tight to the wall, and when Finn grabbed his hand and pulled on it, it stayed there, a small shield held to the magnet with an attraction nothing could break.
"Shall I let him go?" The Prison said slyly.
Finn looked at Keiro and Keiro looked back. "Yes," he whispered.
"With a violence that made them all wince, every piece of metal fell from the walls in one resounding crash.
CLAUDIA STOPPED. "What was that?"
"What?"
"That noise!"
"There are always noises in the Prison. Please do go on about the Queen. She sounds so--"
"It came from down there." Claudia stared down the dim archway she was passing. She saw a low passageway, barely head-high, roped with spiderwebs.
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