Softly, Narda said, “Do not ask for me again. Say you were not pleased. Ask instead for Zenobia … You have been shown her, I think.”
Griffin nodded. His memory was excellent. He remembered Zenobia indeed, an opulently built woman for whom being overweight only accented her gifts.
“Zenobia?”
“She has advantages that I do not. She can also be trusted.”
“You trust me?”
Narda gave him a truly brilliant smile. “Ring said a cat, a cord, and a head of golden grain would open a door. He also warned we must be neither silent or idle, yet both silent and idle. From the first rumors of you, we have dared hope.”
“Ring.”
“The Old One only held Ring because Ring would be held.”
“He’s frightening.”
“To himself, most of all…” Narda said. “When you asked for me, did you know Ring is my son?”
“No. I saw the expression in your eyes when you looked at Julyan. I thought you were unbroken.”
Her tiny smile held an infinity of sorrow. “Not broken? With my poor boy … half mad. I’ve been broken, then regrown crooked, twisted, and stronger.”
* * *
The next night, Griffin refused a bed mate. Instead, he did his best to pass on Narda’s information to Terrell. The factotum’s readiness to come charging in immediately was clear, but Griffin asked him to wait until he learned what he could from Zenobia.
He was glad that he did. One of the things that had troubled Griffin was that a nighttime escape would be preferable for many reasons—including the fact that the Old One was less likely to be present. However, even though Griffin was increasingly trusted, each night his door was locked behind him.
Zenobia, it turned out, held the answer to keys. Unbeknownst to the Old One, the man who had fathered two children upon her had come to care first for the children, then for their mother.
“The Old One is very wise in many things,” Zenobia explained in a deep, rusty whisper, “but in matters of the heart … he is deficient. Perhaps once, long, long ago, he knew how to care, but he has put that from him.”
“As a weakness,” Griffin murmured.
“And it has become a different weakness. The Old One believes that given choice of many partners, a man will not bond with one. He has us couple in darkness and seems to think that means we will not know each other.” She chuckled and Griffin involuntarily saluted the movement of her ample breasts. “As if any man could not pick me out from the rest, even if he has only known me bound and gagged in the darkness!”
“And your man…”
“Cordie. He knows me. We have guessed which are our children, though the Old One tries hard to prevent that, too. He forgets that in dealing with the adapted, he is dealing with more than human.”
Momentarily distracted, Griffin asked, “Do all of you know your children, then?”
“No, but I know mine. I saw their faces when they still swam within me.”
Once Griffin would have doubted this, but that was before his dreams had become entwined with Terrell’s.
“Now Cordie wants me—not so much free but bound only to him. I can live with that, oh, easily. Cordie can get keys that will open the interior doors. We have been stopped in that he does not know how to leave the islands, either by boat or by tunnel. The Old One keeps that knowledge for himself alone. I am not certain even Julyan knows how to open the tunnels.”
Griffin did not tell Zenobia he did or that his friends did. Narda had taught him the value of silence. Nor did Zenobia ask. It still made his skin crawl at how automatically these people assumed blind trust was best.
“How do I get a message to you, so you know when to be ready?”
“Don’t. If needed, you will be released when the time comes. Trust us.”
And, of course, Griffin had no choice but to do so.
Interlude: Seek & Seek
Velvet darkness, soft as sound.
My other self, my shadow,
Can you hear me?
My shadow, my other self,
I can …
Wait!
I can hear??? You? Who?
Scent of musk, of earth mold, of moonlight.
Turn as one, on two feet, four paws.
In velvet darkness (soft as sound)
Unfolds phosphorescent glow,
pale as dreams.
But this is not a dream.
She has no face
No eyes
No lips
But within dreamlight
She smiles.
And we are, we are …
Lost?
Found.
21
End to Impatience
The last double handful of days would have been enough to drive anyone but a hunter mad with impatience. However, Bruin had been the best of teachers, and, as Adara kept reminding Terrell, stalking the prey, making sure blade or arrow would go in cleanly were as important as the moment of attack.
“You and Griffin are miracles,” she concluded. “I might even become jealous at this sudden closeness.”
“Adara…” Terrell glowered at her. “Don’t tease. I’d rather share your dreams than his.”
“You don’t know that,” Adara replied, thinking how very odd those dreams had been of late. Then she forced a grin. “You need to laugh, Terrell. Tie the bowstring too tightly and when you draw it back, it snaps. Shall I tickle you instead of teasing?”
“Do that and I’ll definitely snap,” Terrell retorted, but he was grinning now. “Griffin’s—uh—information gathering has leaked through more than he probably realizes. Even a gentleman pays for whispered conferences with naked women.”
Adara wondered why she didn’t feel jealous. She thought there would have been a time when she would have. Now all she felt was pity for Griffin.
Maybe when this is all over, when my own dreams settle … I keep counseling patience when what I long for is a good fight, something to clear my heart and mind.
The hardest part of waiting were those times she and Terrell went by the Sanctum to help the Old One with his work, for now more than ever they did not wish to seem other than respectful. Occasionally, Adara even went alone. She did not really think the Old One would harm her, but she always left Sand Shadow elsewhere, since the demiurge would know if her partner was in trouble.
And I would not let myself be used as a hostage—not when so many other lives rest on it. I think both Terrell and Griffin would know whatever love I held for them would dry up and vanish if they permitted me to be so used.
At long last, the time came when Griffin said he could learn no more. He asked to be told when they would come and cautioned that not all the men were as sympathetic to the Old One’s cause as it might seem. He sent images of a few he knew could be trusted, of a few who could not.
Terrell did his best to describe these men to Adara, cursing that while he was quite good at cartography and sketching, he had never studied portrait drawing.
“Another skill I will need to learn, especially if I am to serve Griffin as I should.”
Adara kept her bemusement at this strengthening bond to herself. No matter what the Old One thought, no matter what Griffin himself thought, the factotum in Terrell was certain that Griffin was among the seegnur returned.
* * *
Based on Terrell’s conferences with Griffin, they decided to make their attack by night. They told the Trainers they would be off camping for a few days, investigating some interesting trade opportunities inland from Spirit Bay. This gave them excuse to take not only Tarnish and Midnight, but also Molly and Sam the Mule.
The night was very dark when they arrived at the entrance behind the waterfall.
“Tonight the horses will need to care for themselves,” Adara said. “I want Sand Shadow with us.”
“So do I,” Terrell assured her. “Three seems a small enough group to attack an entire base.”
“But once we get inside,” Adara remin
ded him, “we will have allies.”
Both had memorized the map Terrell had created from Griffin’s dreams. Once they were in, Terrell would head for where Cordie was usually stationed. If Cordie was not there, Terrell would go to his rooms. Then the two of them would release Griffin. Meanwhile, Adara and Sand Shadow would release the women and children. While these escaped, they would hang back and provide cover.
Neither tried to construct a more complex plan, for both knew they would be adapting as soon as they opened the door that would take them beneath Mender’s Isle.
Fearing an alarm, both humans held their breath as they opened the final lock into the shuttle repair base. No gong sounded and, with only slight noise, the door came loose. They closed it behind them in case this area was under patrol, but did not secure it.
With Sand Shadow leading, they prowled up the corridor. All was silent. Ahead dim light showed, bright after the dark tunnel, probably created by a few lanterns hung to the walls. When they came to where their paths must part, Terrell grabbed Adara and gave her a solid kiss.
“For luck,” he whispered, then moved cautiously toward where he would hopefully find Cordie on duty.
Adara flashed him a grin, but she was already on the move. The women and children were kept in the farthest reaches of the repair base, in an area devoid of any possible scientific interest. Once, twice, she and Sand Shadow ghosted around the drowsy guards. The third Adara subdued before he knew she was there, gagging him, then binding his hands behind his back. She was bending to hobble him when the sound of voices nearly made her heart stop.
From not too far away—in an area Terrell’s map had marked as “Administration”—came the Old One’s voice, carrying easily through the relative silence.
“After you do that, Julyan, feel free to turn in. I’ll be working here a while longer, but I want to be back at the Sanctum well before morning. I’m expecting some prominent guests.”
“Very good, sir. If you need me, I’ll be taking my filly for a spin before I go to my room, so check there first.”
“Always dutiful,” the Old One said blandly.
“That’s me, sir.”
Adara froze, listening. A door shut. A single set of footsteps, moving quietly, but audible to ears that were listening, receded.
We have a short time, then, she thought. But Julyan will be back—I’m sure I know where his “filly” is stabled. Do we call this off? Hope we haven’t been noticed? Come back another night?
But she decided they were past that point. No alert had been called, so Terrell had probably safely reached Cordie. Griffin might even be loose. They couldn’t lock him up again—not in any fairness. And if they took him but not the prisoners …
Adara was moving even before she had decided these points. The map had included where Narda and Zenobia slept. Unless they were being punished or nursing, the women slept in dormitories, so they could keep watch on one another. Other than this, the areas were not guarded.
Slipping past the curtain that served as a door, Adara moved unerringly to where Zenobia’s bulk lifted the light sheet that was her only cover on this hot summer night.
She knelt and placed her hand over the woman’s mouth, saying softly, “Adara is here. Wake!”
Zenobia came alert with such poise that Adara might have thought she had been waiting. Perhaps she had some small gift for reading minds or precognition. Zenobia nodded, then pointed to three different beds. That meant each of these held someone who could not be trusted, either because she had been thoroughly broken or was simply untrustworthy.
Adara nodded, then moved to the closest. She’d brought with her a supply of soft cloth strips to serve either as gags or ties. Now she set about subduing the women. Outside, Sand Shadow stood ready, listening for Julyan or any other sign that alert had given.
Meanwhile, Zenobia was waking the remainder of the women. Some must have been briefed in advance—probably those who could be completely trusted. Others were clearly surprised, but life in these conditions had made them obedient to any authority.
It’s going well, Adara thought. About time for something to go very wrong.
* * *
Griffin suspected Terrell was coming even though his friend had not given him specific notice. Tension invaded his dreams: a paradoxical rattle of carefully kept silence. Therefore, he was awake, dressed, and waiting when the lock to his cell snapped open.
“Griffin?” Terrell held aloft a single candle.
“Here. Ready.”
“Wait.”
Cordie followed Terrell into the room. Even the light of the candle was enough to show the fierce determination on his rounded features.
“Cordie has news. The Old One is here tonight. I was wondering…”
“Should we take him? Yes! If we had him hostage…”
“Exactly.”
Cordie nodded. “Not even Julyan would put the Old One at risk. The prisoners would be assured a safe escape—we might even be able to put off pursuit for several days, if not permanently.”
Griffin nodded. “I don’t want to kill him. He’s a beast in many ways, but there’s knowledge in his head that would be lost.”
Terrell grinned lopsidedly. “Sand Shadow would be offended by you comparing the Old One to a beast, but I know what you mean. I’m not much for murder, either.”
“Besides,” Griffin said, “I want a chance to go over this facility. The Old One must know things he hasn’t told us. He could be very useful.”
“You’re not going to postpone the escape,” Cordie said, fingers drifting to the sword at his belt, “not so you can search about.”
“Not at all,” Griffin said firmly. “Searching later. Escape first.”
“Let’s go.”
* * *
The exodus was well under way when Sand Shadow signaled that she heard Julyan returning. Adara had already released the waiting “filly”—a young woman who had nearly fainted in relief. Now she held up a hand to halt the trickle of escapees.
“Hold,” she said. “Trouble coming. When I’ve secured it, keep going.”
Narda was acting as shepherd. At her nod, everyone backed into cover. Not even the children whispered a question. Grateful as she was for their quiescence, the silence made Adara’s blood cold. Children without questions were somehow less than children.
Some odd part of Adara longed to confront Julyan, to meet him face to face, show him that she had penetrated into this secure area, despite the precautions taken by him and his master.
But I am not a silly girl. And too much depends on this.
Instead, she waited. In a moment Julyan would notice the guard was not at his post. What would he do?
Annoyance lighting his face, Julyan quickened his pace, but he did not call either for the guard or for aid.
Doubtless he thinks to catch the man with his trousers down—maybe literally—and punish him for dereliction. Julyan would enjoy that.
When Julyan was rounding the corner into the women’s quarters, Adara pounced. Julyan was a big man, strongly built, so she did not plan to give him a chance. Instead, as Adara rolled to take Julyan’s feet out from under him, Sand Shadow leapt. Though the puma kept her claws sheathed, she provided a considerable weight. She laid one paw solidly on the side of his neck, pulling as if to sink in her fangs as she would when killing more usual prey. Feeling the great cat’s breath hot on his skin, Julyan stopped struggling.
“Make a sound,” Adara said with soft menace, “and she bites.” Then, to Narda, “Go!”
The stream of women and children resumed as Adara first gagged then bound Julyan. With the threat of Sand Shadow, Julyan did not attempt anything, but his dark eyes widened.
Now the women leaving carried small babies. Some of the infants fussed a little, but none cried. Adara knew that Zenobia had been busily dosing them with a decoction kept in the nursery. The need to do this had been one reason that the babies had been left for last.
Adara was fini
shing efficiently binding Julyan’s legs—securing them by a long loop to a cord around his neck so he couldn’t kick without strangling himself—when a bell tolled, followed by voices shouting in the distance. Abandoning her prisoner, Adara and Sand Shadow sprang toward the disturbance.
* * *
“It’s not going to be as easy as walking into the Old One’s office and taking him,” Cordie cautioned. “He has a direct alarm to the men’s quarters. There’s no way we can get to him before he sets it off.”
“He’d be certain to set it off if he saw me or Terrell,” Griffin said, “but would he for you?”
“Maybe.” Cordie shrugged. “He’s a paranoid type. Living so long has made him suspicious of any threat. He’d like to keep living for another couple hundred years.”
“Still,” Terrell said, “sending you in first would be our best bet. Our only other would be to secure the men’s quarters and every guard first. I don’t think we can pull that off without raising an alert—not even with whatever Adara has done already.”
“And she must have taken some guards out,” Griffin agreed. Even as he spoke, his thoughts argued through a dozen tactical possibilities, very much at this moment a scion of the warlike Danes. “Or we would have heard something by now. Fine. Here’s what we do. Cordie goes in with a message.”
He scribbled on a piece of paper, then handed it to Cordie.
“Your message. The Old One usually works behind a big desk. While his attention is on you, Terrell and I will get low and creep toward him. If we’re lucky, we’ll have him secured before any guards can get to him. Is the Old One’s office guarded?”
“Usually one man,” Cordie said. “More to run messages or bring things than guard. Depending on who it is, I may be able to bluff my way through. If not…”
He shrugged.
“We’re set,” Griffin said. He took a moment to grab the sheet from his bed and bundled it under one arm. “Let’s go.”
Artemis Awakening Page 30
