Lex Trent versus the Gods

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Lex Trent versus the Gods Page 12

by Alex Bell


  ‘The Judge will be here shortly,’ Jezra said. ‘And then the first round will commence and you’re welcome to try and gut each other like fish, if you like. But until then I’m afraid we all have to be civilised for just a little longer. Just out of curiosity, Lex, how did you manage to get this ship?’

  ‘Wouldn’t you love to know, Jezra?’ Lady Luck said before Lex could answer.

  ‘I don’t pretend not to be impressed, my Lady, but you must be aware that there will be trouble to pay later. Still it will make the Game more interesting, I suppose.’

  Lex turned at the sound of a door closing and realised that his employer was no longer on the deck.

  ‘Where’s Schmidt?’ he asked.

  ‘I think the heat might be getting to him,’ Jezra said, smirking at the Goddess. ‘It looks like the scales may yet be balanced after all, your Ladyship. How careless of you not to explain to Trent how the Binding Bracelets worked.’

  ‘It wasn’t careless, Jezra. The companion backup is merely a technicality in Lex’s case, so it hardly matters who he brought. Not only will he live through the Game but he’ll come through it with barely a scratch on him. You know that he’s a natural, or else you would not have let me trick you so easily into choosing his useless brother.’

  Lex felt an immense swell of pride at that. The Gods were bickering over him. After a moment, Jezra gave an almost imperceptible nod. ‘Yes, well, we shall see.’

  The swishing, leathery sound alerted them to the prophet’s arrival. Lex looked up and saw a giant desert bat wheeling overhead. They were huge things, with a wingspan of over twenty feet, impervious to the heat, completely blind and yet able to smell water from several miles away. They were, in fact, the perfect creatures for such a climate. But they still could not compare to Lex’s beautiful enchanted ship with its air-conditioned kitchens and bathrooms and wardrobes and he felt an immense sense of gleeful satisfaction at the fact that he was so far ahead of the others before they had even begun. He had been born for this kind of thing! The huge bat had ample room to land on the deck of the gleaming, metal ship, swooping down with an elegance that was in sharp contrast to the drayfus’s botched landing. The prophet slid from the giant thing’s back and stood there in silence, facing them. A thin, rather greasy man, about thirty years old, scrambled off after him and Lex assumed that this must be the prophet’s companion - Theba, the gangster. He certainly seemed like a gangster. Lex didn’t like the look of the shifty, resentful expression in the man’s eyes one bit and made a note to keep an eye on him because he looked just the sort for foul play. And Lex should know, for it takes one to know one.

  A bare second later, the Judge appeared beside the other two. He was dressed in the same grey robes and golden mask as before and, once again, he didn’t utter a word to either of the other Gods or even his own player. It occurred to Lex that perhaps this was why the Judge had chosen a prophet - what with having their tongues cut out they were not exactly the talkative types either.

  ‘Now that everyone’s here,’ Jezra said, stepping forward, ‘we are ready to commence the first round. You shall all be provided with crystal balls for remote transmission during the course of the Game.’

  He opened his fist to reveal the pocket-sized crystal ball, which he then held out to Lucius. Lady Luck held an identical one out to Lex and the Judge pressed one into the gloved hand of the prophet.

  ‘Are we being broadcast to the stadiums now?’ Lucius asked, peering nervously into his own dark ball.

  ‘Of course not,’ Jezra replied impatiently. ‘We don’t broadcast footage live. Haven’t done for years. It’s better for everyone all round if a bit of editing is done first.’

  Lex managed not to snort. He knew it was vanity on the part of the Gods. They all wanted their players to look fearless. They did not want them breaking down in tears in the middle of a Game, so anything like that would . . . hit the cutting room floor, so to speak.

  ‘Now, this,’ Jezra gestured dramatically to the looming castle, ‘is a sky castle, as you can see - a relic from the days of heroes. There is a broken mirror inside. I would like you to fix it. The first one to do so, wins.’

  Lex said nothing, keenly suspicious of the seemingly simple task.

  ‘Is that all?’ Lucius asked in obvious relief.

  ‘That is all,’ Jezra confirmed, spreading his hands and smiling an honest man’s smile that Lex did not trust one bit.

  ‘Well, that doesn’t sound too dangerous,’ Lucius said, glancing at Zachary who merely nodded.

  ‘From here on in, the help we can give our playing pieces is limited,’ Jezra said. ‘I trust we all understand that?’

  The Lady and the Judge both nodded.

  ‘After all, if we were to use the full extent of our powers,’ Jezra went on deliberately, ‘we would, of course, easily destroy each other’s players but no one would actually win. And I believe that is why we are all here?’

  Lucius was looking quite cheered at this but the distrust and suspicion that was rife in the air was quite obvious to Lex. The Gods were cheaters too, almost by definition.

  ‘All right. Let it begin,’ Jezra said.

  He and the Judge disappeared and, at once, Lucius and Zachary were running towards their exhausted drayfus, and the prophet and Theba were running towards their bat and, after some persuasion on Zachary’s part, the animals were rushing off towards the castle as if this was merely some kind of race.

  ‘How simple minded,’ Lex murmured.

  ‘What do you mean?’ the Lady demanded. ‘Don’t just stand there, Lex, get a move on; they’re going to beat you!’

  ‘Jezra is the God of Wit and Daring, my Lady,’ Lex said patiently. ‘His round would never hinge on such a simple thing as fixing a mirror. There could be anything inside there. I certainly don’t intend to rush in unprepared. ’

  ‘I suppose you have a point.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I fully intend to win this round,’ Lex replied, his mind already going back to a story his grandfather had once told him about a huge castle that hung in the sky. Then he turned and sauntered back to the door, relishing the cold air that blew out from within when he opened it. He was a little worried about the heat. His own clothes were damp with sweat from the few minutes that they had been out on deck and he never had liked Heetha’s sun, always doing his best to avoid it and it was even worse at this altitude. The sun could make you slow and sluggish. But the beauty of it was that Lucius was a total pansy when it came to heat and the prophet probably wouldn’t fare too well with all the layers of black clothing he was wearing. He even had gloves for Gods’ sake! The other players weren’t prepared, they didn’t have anything with them. Lex laughed softly. This was going to be all too easy.

  ‘So what do we have to do?’ Schmidt asked when Lex entered the bridge.

  ‘Fix a mirror,’ Lex replied briefly. ‘Why don’t you ask Lady Luck if you can stay here?’

  ‘I’m not staying here!’ Schmidt protested.

  ‘Why not?’ Lex asked, glancing at him in surprise. ‘It’s hot and dangerous out there, you know.’

  ‘If you die then I will have to complete the Game by myself!’

  ‘Oh that,’ Lex said dismissively. ‘Don’t worry about that; I won’t die. I’m going to win.’

  ‘Convince yourself if you want to, but I’m not staying here. For all you know you might need a second person in there.’

  Lex hesitated. It was a possibility. ‘I suppose you’re right. Well, you’d better hurry up and get ready if you want to come.’

  ‘I don’t want to come!’ Schmidt snapped. ‘But I don’t have any choice, thanks to you! I should be at Lucas, Jones and Schmidt right now preparing for the Johnson case. If you’ve got some kind of death wish . . . if you want to die, then that’s your business, but I’m absolutely astounded that anyone could be so outrageously selfish as to drag somebody else unwillingly into such—’

  ‘Oh give it a rest,’ Lex said mildly. ‘I didn’t
know how the bracelets worked. I can assure you that I would much rather be playing this Game on my own. But I won’t be slowed down by anyone. Meet me on the deck in fifteen minutes.’

  The sky castle had a row of steel rings set into one side. From the deck, Lex could see the drayfus and the desert bat already tethered, at a safe distance from one another, to a couple of these rings. Although they were clearly meant for animals, Lex saw no reason why the ship could not be safely anchored there too and, as they approached, a rather delicious idea occurred to him. He closed his eyes and revelled in the sensation of the boat shifting in response to his thoughts. It made him feel God-like.

  ‘You’re going too close to the drayfus, Lex,’ Schmidt said from where he was standing beside him. ‘Pull back.’

  Lex ignored him but opened his eyes to watch the entertainment. The drayfus had been resting on the platform, but it raised its large head now, watching the impending ship in alarm.

  ‘Pull back!’ Schmidt ordered.

  ‘Shut up; you’re ruining the moment.’

  ‘You’re going to hit it!’

  ‘I’m only going to scare it. Just watch; it’ll be fun, I promise.’

  As the ship got closer, the drayfus at last staggered to its feet and tried to fly away. Unfortunately, it was tethered to a steel ring. But whilst the ring might have been made of steel, the castle was made of sand. Sandcastles, as every small child knows, are not built to have huge slavering beasts tethered to their walls. After some moments of agitated and terrified straining, the ring tore away from the side of the castle in a shower of sand and the drayfus flapped off, probably profoundly relieved to be free.

  Lex laughed. ‘I told you it would be fun.’

  There were many doors into the castle. Most of them were huge, grand, ornate things. There was one door in particular, around the front, that was clearly the main door and Lex guessed that Lucius and the prophet would have entered via this one. Schmidt headed for it automatically but Lex ignored it and set off round the back in search of the obligatory, innocuous little back door. He smiled when he found it.

  ‘Are you sure that’s right?’ Schmidt asked, coming up behind him.

  ‘Oh, no, it’s all wrong,’ Lex replied. ‘They won’t be expecting us to use this door, so hopefully this route will have fewer traps.’

  ‘Traps?’ Schmidt asked sharply. ‘I thought we just had to fix a mirror?’

  ‘Yes, but there will be traps, trust me. Keep your eyes open.’

  Lex grasped the metal handle and dragged open the door to reveal about twenty people all rushing madly towards them . . . Well, not quite. None of the people were moving. They were statues - frozen in a desperate rush towards the door, with expressions of abject terror on their carved faces. As if they were being chased . . .

  ‘What a curious choice of décor,’ Schmidt remarked.

  ‘Hmm. Curious,’ Lex responded at once, taking particular care to keep his voice level, for the lawyer clearly did not realise that these were no mere statues but something much, much more sinister . . . One might call that an irresponsible attitude on Lex’s part. After all, if Schmidt wasn’t warned about what was in the castle with them then he would not be adequately prepared to defend himself . . . But they’d be all right as long as they stayed in the cold rooms.

  The long sandy corridor stretched away into the castle - the walls, ceiling and floor were made entirely of sand, with wooden brackets on the walls holding flickering torches to provide some light. And there were doors all the way along the corridor - blue or red, which meant that Lex’s hunch had been right. He put down his bag and pulled out two fur coats.

  ‘Here,’ he said, holding one up for the lawyer.

  Schmidt stared at him. ‘What on earth did you bring coats for? The heat would kill us!’

  ‘Just put it on,’ Lex replied distractedly.

  The top, bottom or centre? The broken mirror was bound to be in one of those places. As the top of the castle would be the hardest place to reach, Lex was guessing that it would be there. And to reach the top, they would have to pass through the blue doors, avoiding the red ones very carefully.

  Lex pulled on his own coat, swung the bag back onto his shoulders and moved towards the shiny blue door, hardly hearing Schmidt’s complaints in his greedy preoccupation with what treasures he might find in the course of the Game. He pulled open the blue door and Schmidt fell silent as he stared over the top of Lex’s head at the huge icy room before them. Light poured in from the massive windows and cold air rushed towards them, shards of frost clinging to their clothes and hair. The entire room was made of ice, including the huge spiral staircase that curved upwards. Lex smiled smugly at the look of amazement on his employer’s face. ‘Put the coat on,’ he repeated.

  ‘How did you know?’ Schmidt asked, struggling into the coat as Lex stepped carefully into the room, testing the floor as he went. ‘How did you know the castle would be ice inside?’

  ‘It’s not entirely. The blue doors lead to ice and the red ones lead to sand and lava.’

  ‘But how did you know? I don’t remember sky castles appearing in any of the recent Games. You haven’t done this before, have you?’ Schmidt asked suspiciously.

  Lex sighed. ‘My grandfather told me, okay?’

  Alistair Trent had been a great Chronicler in his day. Fifty years ago, Adventurers were still exploring the Lands Above, but now that enough information had been gathered to create a comprehensive map, people no longer went exploring like they used to, because they could learn about faraway places by reading the Chronicles in the library.

  Of course it cost a lot of money to raise an exploratory expedition and so there had only ever been gentlemen Adventurers. The only way for less well-off men to go was by selling their services as a writer, Chronicling the adventure as it happened and then donating the book to the library once it was over. Alistair Trent had been on many different adventures as a young man with several different Adventurers, including the famous Carey East. Lex and Lucius had often delighted as children in the stories Alistair would tell them and, when Lex had first moved to the Wither City, he had spent many an evening in the library reading the Chronicles his grandfather had written, marvelling that the man who’d raised them had really done all those incredible things.

  ‘Just be quiet and follow me,’ Lex went on. ‘There isn’t time to explain everything to you as we go, so I’m afraid you’ll just have to trust that I know what I’m doing. We need to get to the top,’ he said, pointing to the staircase. ‘Preferably without breaking our necks.’

  It wouldn’t be easy. The stairs and balustrade were made of ice. That would make the stairs almost impossible to balance on and the balustrade painful to grip without gloves. Lex reached into his pocket and drew out a pair of the thick gloves that he had found with the coats on the ship.

  ‘There are gloves in the coat pocket,’ he said to Schmidt, squinting up at the staircase and trying to work out how high it was. Three storeys perhaps? He walked over to the base and gazed up thoughtfully.

  ‘So what’s your plan?’ Schmidt asked, coming up behind him.

  ‘What?’

  ‘How are you going to cheat to get up there?’

  ‘Cheat?’ Lex smiled. ‘I’m afraid that when it comes to stairs, Mr Schmidt, there is no way to cheat. They just have to be climbed.’

  ‘But they’re made of ice, you stupid boy.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Lex considered the stairs for a moment longer, trying to think of something that would make the climb easier or, failing that, at least make it possible.

  ‘Why don’t we fly up?’ he asked at last.

  ‘Good idea, but for the one obvious flaw.’

  ‘There’s a desert bat tethered outside, didn’t you see it?’

  ‘You want to steal the prophet’s bat?’ Schmidt asked, aghast.

  Lex wrinkled his nose in distaste. ‘I do wish you’d stop using that word. We would only be borrowing it.’
r />   ‘Isn’t it enough that you’ve already lost your brother’s drayfus?’

  ‘No, it’s never enough, Monty. You wait here, I’m going to fetch it.’

  ‘It won’t work, anyway. Desert bats have a very low tolerance to the cold. Besides which, they’re incredibly vicious towards anyone who isn’t their handler.’

  Lex stopped halfway to the door and turned back around. Schmidt silently cursed himself. Why had he spoken like that? Now the insufferable little know-it-all’s eyes were positively ablaze with curiosity.

  ‘You’re right. How do you know that?’ Lex asked, walking back to the stairs. ‘I didn’t know that desert bats were required reading for lawyers.’

 

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