“Wait, now,” Finn protested, “I never said I'd quit. I certainly don't intend to give in.”
“Didn't say you would. Said you wouldn't have to.”
Oberbyght glanced over his shoulder with a grin.
“You think I'm an idiot, boy? That I climbed up here for the view?”
Finn turned, then, just as Letitia Louise cried out, leaping for joy, and waving at the sky.
“Hooks and Crooks!” Finn could scarcely believe his eyes, but it was clearly no illusion floating majestically overhead, blotting out the afternoon sky.
“Bucerius!” Finn shouted, cupping his hands about his face. “I never saw a sight more pleasing to the eye!”
“I told you one has to do business with all sorts of rogues in my trade,” said the seer. “You've got to learn to listen to your betters, Master Finn. …”
FIFTY-FIVE
FINN AND LETITIA DASHED ABOUT THE TOP OF the tower, chasing the tangle of ropes that dangled from the bloated craft overhead. The ropes snapped and whipped in the wind, close at hand one instant, hanging over nothing the next.
Bucerius cursed and shouted, bringing the worst of seven languages to bear, as he struggled to keep the balloon from drifting away or plummeting down to crush the creatures scurrying about below.
Obern Oberbyght did all he could, kicking angry Badgies down the hole, keeping the screaming princess intact.
The balloon dipped low, the wicker basket knocking loose stones off the wall. Letitia leaped, caught a rope and held on. Finn heard her triumphant shout, then heard it turn to a fearsome wail, as the rope yanked her off the tower and over the abyss.
Finn's heart nearly stopped. Letitia swung back, past the tower wall, just out of Finn's reach. He could see her hands slipping, quickly losing their grip. Her Mycer eyes mirrored her fear for she was clearly terrified.
Finn didn't dare stop to think. He scrambled up the wall, jumped, caught the rope just above Letitia's grip, scissored his legs about her and swung back from the dizzying heights below.
The balloon sagged beneath their weight and began to tip dangerously to one side. Bucerius bellowed, and yanked frantically on his cords. The swollen craft surged up again, and this time the Bullie's skill dropped the pair safely on the tower floor again.
Finn struggled with the rope and tied it securely through a hole in the stony wall. Bucerius tossed down two more lines, and, in a moment, the craft was riding balanced and secure, straining against the wind.
Finn lifted Letitia up, and the Bullie pulled her aboard. Finn handed Julia up next, then went to help the seer.
DeFloraine-Marie knew exactly what was coming. She screamed like a banshee, and managed to sink her teeth into Oberbyght's arm. She kicked out with her legs and struck Finn in the head.
“Enough of that, Princess, I'm losing my patience with you.” Oberbyght slung her over his shoulder, stomped over to the balloon, gripped her like a sack of meal, and tossed her to Bucerius waiting there.
The Bullie caught her and dumped her to the wicker floor. In her sheltered life, DeFloraine-Marie had had little to do with Bullies. Bullies were merely Newlies who carried heavy things about. At the sight of this great, powerful creature she backed away into a corner of the basket and loosed a pitiful wail.
“Go on, get aboard,” Finn shouted at the seer. “I'll finish up here.”
Oberbyght paused, then nodded, and made his way up to the balloon. Bucerius flipped a short-bladed knife to Finn, and Finn began to slice the restraining ropes, one by one.
Left unchecked, the Badgies swarmed like angry hornets onto the tower floor, a blur of broad shoulders, stumpy legs and bristling jaws, silver mail and flashing blades.
With a fierce battle cry, Maddigern swept his Guards men aside and came at Finn, his sword cutting deadly arcs at Finn's heels, forcing him back against the tower wall.
Letitia shouted a warning, but Finn didn't hear. He knew he was but a breath away from losing it all, that everything he'd been through, everything he'd dared, could come to naught if the Badgie caught him here with nothing but the Bullie's short blade.
If he turned, and made a leap for the balloon, Maddigern would surely plunge his weapon into his back. If he stood his ground another moment, though, he could slice the final rope and let the others go.
“Don't, Finn, you cannot!” Letitia knew full well the path he would choose, knew what he had to do.
Finn didn't hesitate. He sawed frantically at the rope, slicing one layer then the next. The rope creaked and strained as each strand sprang free.
Maddigern's dark eyes glowed, for he saw his triumph near. With a growl of victory he raised his blade shoulder high and slammed one boot against the ground.
“Go on, have at it,” Oberbyght shouted. “I care nothing for the wretched fellow, and you clearly have no concern for this baggage here”
Maddigern stopped, his stout frame suddenly rigid, as he stared at the hovering balloon. The seer stood at the basket's edge, his hands grasping the princess’ ankles as she swung precariously over nothing but a great deal of air. She shrieked and flailed about. The most frightening moment in her life before this was when a bee stung her toe when she was twelve.
Maddigern didn't move. He glared at the seer with rage uncontained, no longer mindful that Finn was there.
Oberbyght smiled. “What does it take to get your attention, Badgie? I've got an idea, see what you think of this?”
With that, the sorcerer let go of one of the princess’ an kles, holding her weight with a single hand. DeFloraine-Marie cried out, a most frightening sound that was heard by many citizens far below.
Maddigern stared, his blade still poised above his head. Finn could see a tremor, a shudder, as the fury of indecision swept the Badgie's stout frame. For a moment that seemed to last forever, he stood his ground, as rigid as the cold, fossilized rulers in the Holy Place of Emperors, Tyrants and Kings.
Then, he took a step back, lowered his blade, and turned away from the princess, gazing at nothing at all.
Finn didn't hesitate an instant. He grabbed the nearly severed rope and swung from the tower wall. The cord snapped beneath his grip and the balloon jerked free, moving swiftly in the strong evening breeze.
Bucerius hauled him in and dumped him roughly on the wicker basket's floor.
“Finn, I wish you wouldn't do things like that,” Letitia said, as a single tear trickled down her cheek. “I will be severely upset if you ever leap off over nothing again.”
“I think I can promise I will avoid such antics, my dear.”
“Where have I heard that before,” said Julia Jessica Slagg. …
FIFTY-SIX
FINN MARVELED AT HOW SWIFTLY THE GREAT palace of Heldessia's King shrank to a speck he could hide behind his thumb. He had forgotten the perversity of balloons, which will hang without moving, and refuse to go anywhere at all, then rush through the clouds with a speed impossible for any conveyance on the ground.
Before they had drifted too far, he had seen Maddigern and his Badgies crowded on the top of the tower, watching in silence as their prey moved farther and farther away.
Finn was still watching when the great bell pealed again, its solemn tones resounding through the ‘rip in the cosmic trousers,’ as the seer liked to say, from the world of illusions to the deepening afternoon where the Bullie's balloon rushed away toward the west.
Either that, Finn said to himself, or this is the illusion, and the real world's somewhere past the bell.
And, indeed, if that were so, who could ever tell?
“If you've nothing to do,” Bucerius said, “you can get your head back where it belongs and be helpin’ me with them lines. You didn't learn much on the way in here, but you might be better'n some.”
Finn felt a small, but honest moment of pride at the Bullie's words, for he knew this was as close as the fellow would come to granting him some station as the crewman of a balloon.
“This is really a difficult craft t
o master,” he told Letitia Louise. “It takes enormous skill to learn the order of cords, the drift, the height, the strength of the winds, the correct amount of ballast to loose to gain the proper altitude.
“When I can find time from my work, I would like to learn more about the fascinating world of vessels of the air.”
“That's wonderful, dear,” Letitia said, with a sweet and haughty smile she'd learned from DeFloraine-Marie. “When you do, just give me time to pack my bags, for I'll not be living with a man who's hanging from a bag of gas, worrying me sick, instead of minding his business on the ground.”
Nothing more was said on the subject after that.
PRINCESS DEFLORAINE-MARIE KEPT VERY MUCH TO herselfafter the craft was under way. Letitia tried to speak to her once, for she wished to thank her for doing her part in breaking through to Oberbyght's lair.
Letitia had been quite surprised to find that within that slim, near-perfect frame there was strength enough to crack stone and plaster and help bring down the ancient wall.
Still, the princess clearly didn't wish for company at all. She stayed by herself and looked wistfully back at the quickly receding hills of Heldessia Land.
“You're free to leap anytime you wish,” the seer told her. “I'd not interfere with your efforts now.”
Finn watched her from the far side of the basket, which was not that far away in the Bullie's craft. Bucerius had given her a blanket against the cooling afternoon, but the wrap did little to hide her lithe and graceful form.
Finn had had no chance to tell Letitia what he'd seen in the chamber of the Deeply Entombed, or, indeed, the other startling sight he'd witnessed there, though Letitia could guess some of the story herself.
Maddigern, and the daughter of the King. There was no doubt of the intimacy between them. No doubt of the look in the Badgie's eyes when he stepped back and let them all go to save the princess’ life.
This enchanting, willful beauty, and the fierce, bloody-minded Badgie—a human and a Newlie who had somehow found one another despite the differences that lay between them.
Much like another odd pairing I could name. One Finn of Fyxedia, and a Mycer named Letitia Louise….
Though he could not see how one of these couplings could possibly relate to the other, he could not deny that the other was there. And there were more such unions in the world this day—some, he imagined, stranger than he knew
COME LOOK AT THIS, BOTH OF YOU,” BUCERIUS said, cupping his enormous hands above his brow. “I been expectin’ it, hoping it wouldn't be.”
At first Finn could see nothing against the glare of the eastern sky. Then, they were there, three small brightly colored spheres, very close together, somewhat higher than Bucerius’ balloon.
“They've caught a good current up there,” the Bullie said, clenching his fists around a heavy rope line. “Just fool luck is what it is. Isn't a balloonist anywheres who'd know it be there.”
“Anything we can do?”
The Bullie frowned at Finn. “Can't get up there, if that's what you mean. Not without tossin’ all of you out, which isn't too bad an idea. I can't dump ballast, neither. Isn't enough to do much good.”
“So we wait,” the seer said.
“They got a wind beats the Westerlies a mile. Might be we'll get us one too.”
Bucerius made no effort to pretend he thought such a miracle would happen anytime soon. …
“WE'LL MAKE IT,” FINN ASSURED LETITIA. “WE'VE come this far. Nothing can stop us now.”
He was well aware how absurd such words must sound, but Letitia was kind enough to say nothing at all. Even Julia Jessica Slagg kept her silence. In respect, Finn thought, of the tragedy that was about to befall.
“Bucerius says we've passed just south of the battleground, which means we're halfway, on the other side of the Swamp of Bleak Demise. Our side, and that's good. We've a way to go, of course”
Finn paused, for the sun had disappeared behind low purple clouds, and the breeze had picked up considerably, bringing the three balloons closer still. Now, the Heldessian coat of arms was quite clear on the flanks of the racing spheres.
“If the velocity of the wind remains the same at our level and theirs,” Julia said, “they will approach us less than a hundred and seven feet above us on a south-southwesterly course. In about nine minutes, I believe.”
“Shut up,” Finn told her. “I'm sure our captain doesn't need any navigational help from you.”
“No, I don't,” Bucerius said, looking somewhat appalled. “I don't, but that ugly's near right.”
“I shall say no more,” Julia said.
“Good. That's a splendid idea.”
“Finn,” the seer shouted, “over here!”
Finn moved quickly to Oberbyght's side.
“See that? In the first balloon? I'm certain that's Maddigern himself. Right below the guiding cords.”
“I don't see how you can tell.”
“Trust me. That's him, for sure. I'd know that brute anywhere”
A flash of bright light, then a thunderous roar reached Finn's ears. Something like an angry hornet whined by overhead.
“Damn ‘em all,” Bucerius said, gripping the basket's side. “It's muskets they be using. They mean to bring us down.”
Another flash, and another after that. The first shot missed, but the second tore at the craft's tangle of cords. Finn could see now that Maddigern was the sole musketeer. One of his Guardsmen would hand him a loaded weapon, and take the empty back.
Another shot ripped away a section of the webbing that held the bloated sphere intact. The balloon dipped, swayed drunkenly, and righted itself again.
“He's a better than fair shooter,” Finn said. “Next time he'll hit the bag itself!”
“No, he won't be doin’ that.” Bucerius looked grim. “He's not trying to kill us, he's trying to take us down.”
Finn showed his surprise, for he failed to understand.
“He hits the bag, we'll go up in a ball of fire,” Bucerius explained. “If he cuts enough of them lines—which is what he's doin’ now—he knows I'll have to set her down ‘fore we lose control.”
The Bullie paused. “He wants his princess back, don't you see? With us stuck down in that killin’ swamp, it's him that'll have the winning hand, not us.
“He can land enough louts to finish us off, ‘less we give her back.”
“He will, too,” said DeFloraine-Marie, tossing them all a haughty glance. “You'd best do what he says, Bullie. He'll show you no mercy if you don't let me go.”
Her words were nearly lost as Maddigern fired again. The wicker basket sagged dangerously, as cords parted with a whine overhead.
“That damn near does it,” Bucerius cursed. “Another shot an’ I got to put her down.”
“And submit to him? A stinking Badgie?” The seer's face darkened with rage. “I'll give him something to ponder, he thinks he can stand up to me!”
The sorcerer raised his hands high above his head and shouted at the wind, trembled and shook, swelled up like the great bloated sphere above. From his mouth spewed a gabble, a blabber, a meaningless jabber that made Finn's hair stand on end.
Then, to Finn's horror, the balloon next to Maddigern's blossomed into a white ball of fire, a small and blinding sun. Finn heard the horrid shrieks of pain from the craft as it disappeared from sight.
“No, don't,” Finn shouted. “Leave them be. We don't have to do that!”
The words were scarcely out of his mouth before the second sphere seared Finn's eyes and vanished in a wink.
He's playing with him, taunting him, saving him till the last….
Oberbyght raised his hands high once more, and Finn could see Maddigern clearly, his features betraying no expression at all.
Finn gripped his hands tightly together, and brought them down soundly at the base of Oberbyght's skull. The sorcerer collapsed without a sound and fell limply to the basket's floor.
Finn glanced at the
Badgie once more. Maddigern knew what had happened, but he didn't move an inch.
“Get a line ‘cross her shoulders,” Finn called out. “Let her down, quickly, and let that maniac see!”
Bucerius nodded. DeFloraine-Marie's eyes widened, but she didn't protest.
“We're driftin’, losing it fast,” the Bullie said. “I can't hold her up long.”
“We don't have to. He knows that.”
The princess didn't say a word as she tossed the Bullie's blanket aside and lifted her legs over the rim of the basket. She caught Finn watching and grinned. Then the Bullie lowered her slowly away, down to the dark, tangled mass of green below.
Maddigern held off to the right, watching the princess descend. Finally, she touched the ground lightly in a small clearing, loosed the line and waved, then stood there and waited, huddled against the chill.
“We can make a couple of miles,” Bucerius said. “Can't promise much after that.”
“You'll do what you can,” Finn said. He glanced at Letitia, then turned and looked back.
“He's going down to get her. He's not concerned with us.”
“Fine. I'm concerned with us,” the Bullie said, “for there's many a craft what's gone down in the Swamp of Bleak Demise, but I never heard of one comin’ out again. …”
FIFTY-SEVEN
I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS, FINN, BY DAMN, I PROMISE you that,” said the seer. “My head's about to split, and I expect there's extensive damage that's yet to unfold.”
“I expect you'd best save your strength,” Finn said. “We've a long way to go and it's coming on night.”
“A long way?” Bucerius gave a weary laugh. “There isn't no end to this swamp, not for more miles than you can count. And I doubt we'll last the night. Not with all the monstrous things that be roaming wild in this place.”
“What kind of things would that be?” “I just said. Monstrous things.” “I haven't seen any yet.”
“You won't, neither. Not till you're inside one of their gullets lookin’ out.”
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