The Clockwork King of Orl tok-2

by Mike Wild

  "I have them where they want me. I mean, they have me where I… Oh hells, never mind."

  "You were, weren't you! They caught you!"

  "On purpose, all right?"

  "What? Why in the gods' names would you want to do that?"

  Slowhand sighed heavily. "Because I wanted to look around. See what really goes on behind the scenes with the Final Faith."

  "From one of their cells?"

  "Nooooo, not from one of their cells." He shrugged. "Well, not in the way you mean, anyway. Stand back."

  Slowhand punched the grille out of its mounting and Kali instinctively caught it with an oof before it could clang to the floor. Damn, she thought, we still make a team whether I like it or not.

  But this was still going a little fast for her. She had no idea what was going on.

  "Okaaay," she said. "So, what's that achieved? No, wait, don't tell me — you're going to escape from your cell into mine. Brilliant!"

  "I see the wit hasn't deserted you," Slowhand said, wearily. "No, Hooper — it's the other way round. You're going to escape from your cell into mine."

  "What?" Kali let the information sink in. "O-hoh, no, no, no," she replied forcefully, looking at herself still in the vest and pants in which she'd awoken upstairs. "If you think you're going to get me in a six foot square cell while we're both wearing nothing but our knickers you've another think coming. This isn't — "

  "Because the way out is in my cell."

  Kali stopped. She had to admit that had nonplussed her.

  "You have a way out?"

  Slowhand grinned broadly. "A-ha. Or, to be more accurate, have had a way out for the last week and a half I've been here. I've had to time it with the guard patrols, of course, but, an hour here, an hour there, it's allowed me to have a pretty good look around. Enough, in fact, to make tonight time to go. The escape route's a… little problematic but even in your state you should be able to manage it. So… excellent timing."

  Her state, Kali thought. The odd thing was, she had already begun to wonder what her state was. She felt much better than she had when she'd first been dumped in the cell, better, in fact, than anyone who'd endured what she had had any right to feel. She had been here — what? — well, the truth was she didn't know — but surely not that long, and she already felt more than well on the road to recovery. She was tempted to look beneath her bandages but now wasn't really the time. Things had turned strange enough already.

  "One tiny problem with your master plan," Kali said. "I'll never squeeze through that hole."

  "Course you will. From what I've seen you've lost quite a bit of weight lately."

  "Excuse me? Are you saying I was fat?"

  "No! Great gods and pits of Kerberos, no. It's just that — well, you seem to have lost a bit of the puppy fat you had. You seem a lot more… lithe."

  "Lithe?" Kali repeated. She thought again of her recovery. "Yes, well, I do seem to have developed something of a faster metabolism these days…"

  "There you go, then," Slowhand said. He winked. "Besides, if nothing else it'll be fun to watch."

  "Fun to watch," Kali repeated. "Wait a minute. Killiam Slowhand, have you been watching me in my cell? Lying here in a dungeon, in my underwear?"

  Slowhand threw his hands in the air. "Of course I have, woman! Who wouldn't? No, I mean, how else was I to know you were there? And I–I wanted to know you were all ri — " He stopped suddenly, changed the subject. "Hey, if you're worried about getting through the grille, why don't you smear yourself with oil?"

  "I don't have any oil."

  "Damn! I'll just do my best to imagine it, then."

  "Slowhand…"

  "Fine, fine. Okay, look. The guards are going to change shift in fifteen minutes so if you're going to do this, Hooper, do it now. Or I leave you here."

  Kali let out an exasperated growl and leapt for the opening, pulling herself up and then forwards on her stomach, her hands gripping the lip of the gap on Slowhand's side. It was a tight squeeze, but with a helping hand from Slowhand she made it through, flipping unsteadily into his cell and then, involuntarily, into his arms.

  Slowhand grinned broadly. "Been a while."

  "Don't even thi — " Kali began, and then stopped. "Whoa, hold on a second here," she said. "Killiam Slowhand, are you wearing make-up?"

  Slowhand slid his fingers to that part of his neck which Kali stared at, and they came away smeared with greasepaint he had missed when cleaning himself up. It was amazing how long that stuff stuck around.

  "Actually, yes," he admitted. "But it's not what you think."

  "Really? And what do I think?"

  "Knowing you, gods only knows," Slowhand responded. He took an extravagant bow and added by way of explanation, "Killiam Slowhand's Final Filth — Every Hour On The Hour. Ta daaaa."

  "You've got to be kidding me," Kali said. "You've become a troubadour?" She couldn't help herself — she started to giggle.

  "Hey, a guy's got to earn a crust somehow," Slowhand said, feigning hurt. "Besides, you'd be astounded the places being a travelling player gets you."

  "Oh, that's it — it's all to do with getting in here, isn't it?" Kali said.

  Suddenly her smile faded and it was Slowhand's turn to study her up close. He whistled, looking concerned. "Pits, they really did a number on you, didn't they?" He stretched out a hand to stroke her cheek, but Kali pulled away, hesitated before speaking.

  "'Liam… one of them… some bastard called Munch… he killed Horse."

  "What? Oh, hells. Oh, hells, Kal, I'm so sorry." Slowhand's jaw tightened and pulsed, and for a second his eyes went distant, as though remembering — and noting — something. "I know how much the old nag meant to you."

  "The old man, he doesn't know yet."

  "The old man? Oh, you mean Merrit Moon. You haven't told him?"

  Kali shook her head. "He left for the mountains. To dispose of a key."

  Slowhand pushed her to arm's length. "This key. It wouldn't be anything to do with the reason Makennon had you interrogated, would it?"

  "The only reason. Whatever the thing is, it's important to her."

  Slowhand sighed. "So I've been told. Look, it's going to be a few minutes before we're ready to move, and, in case you hadn't noticed, before then I'm a captive audience. So why don't you tell me all about it?"

  Kali did, telling everything, including the find, the old man's reaction to it, everything, including the first and second vision, the one that had resulted in her being here. Slowhand took the news of a clanking army wading through a sea of blood in reasonable stride because, like her, he had seen some things. In turn, he told her about the scrolls Makennon had tried to woo him with — the images of the Old Races and the keys that were somehow meant to be the Faith's destiny — but after both of them were done, they were none the wiser.

  Slowhand listened to the activity outside the cell. "Sounds like you have things to do," he said. "So how about we get you out of here?"

  Kali looked around the cell, noting that its interior was exactly the same as her own had been, presenting the same obstructions to liberty she had faced. "About that," she enquired. "Just what is it you have in mind?"

  Slowhand pointed to the lock in the door, and then, disturbingly, to his shorts, which shimmered slightly. "Krunt scale," he said, proudly. "The humble krunt's greatest weapon in the survival of the fittest." Kali looked blank and he sighed, explaining as he might to a five-year-old. "Krunts are native to the waters of the Stormwall, Hooper — their scales are polarised to repel stormbolts. That means they, themselves, are magnetised."

  "They also make good butties, Slowhand. So?"

  Slowhand pulled a face. "So," he declared, "they're pitsing uncomfortable to wear but very handy when it comes to manipulating tumblers." He pointed at the lock again, this time with some exaggeration.

  Kali couldn't do anything but stare. "Let me get this straight. You've been opening this lock with your… underpants?"

  "A
-ha," Slowhand said, smiling.

  Kali shook her head. "Oh gods," she said. Then the full implications of what he was saying struck her. "Oh gods, Slowhand, don't you dare!"

  But it was too late. Slowhand was already pulling them down over his hips, and she spun quickly away.

  "Pits — why does everything you do have to involve you somehow getting naked?"

  "Don't know. Maybe it's my destiny."

  "Just get on with it."

  "Right," Slowhand said quickly. As he spoke, he stuffed his underwear into the keyhole, forcing it through with his finger, and then stretched an arm through the bars of the door to grab what came through on the other side. He then twisted his shorts into a tight roll and began to pull them back and forth, his face pained by the angle at which he stood, but humming as he worked.

  Kali could hear tumblers rolling in their housing. She didn't even want to think about what Slowhand looked like. Definitely, definitely didn't want to loo -

  "Are you done yet?" she asked, biting her lip.

  "Almost there," Slowhand said, strained. There was a sudden sound of metal falling into place, and then she heard him step away from the door with a sigh of satisfaction.

  "Done."

  Kali didn't turn. "Put them back on."

  "They're a little worn," Slowhand protested.

  "Put them back on!"

  Kali waited while there was another sigh, a slight shuffling and then a polite cough. These sounds were followed by a creak. She turned to see the door had been opened wide, and the corridor beckoned outside.

  "Madam," Slowhand said, with an exaggerated flourish.

  The two of them peeped out into the corridor, and saw for the moment that it was empty, the guards, as Slowhand had said, between shifts. But though they weren't there to sound an alarm, there was an immediate clamour from the other prisoners, who stared at them through their bars.

  "Oh pits, it's 'im," one said. "No, no, what ah mean is nice bit o' singin', there, Mister. Voice of an angel, you 'ave. Come orrn, let us out."

  "Don't say that — he might do an encore."

  "It's a calculated risk. Look, do you wanna get yer arse out o' here or not?"

  "Can I 'ave five minutes to fink about it?"

  "Sorry, boys," Slowhand said. The truth was, he regretted having to leave them here but there was no other choice in the matter. Two might make it out of Scholten Cathedral alive but any more would leave them wide open to detection. He placed his hand on Kali's shoulder and ushered her along the corridor, following close behind. But as they reached its end, they heard footsteps on stone — the new shift descending the stairs.

  Kali motioned for Slowhand to freeze and then flattened herself against the wall. As they passed her unnoticed form and saw Slowhand, they drew their swords, and she stepped out and tapped them both on the shoulder. She flattened the first with an open-palmed punch to the face, and Slowhand handled the second with a blow to the neck from behind.

  Kali bent down to one of the crumpled guards and snatched his ring of keys. She tossed it to one of the prisoners they had left behind, who caught them in a hand projecting through the bars. "A half-hour before you make your move," she said, and pointed at Slowhand. "Or he starts to sing."

  "Oh, funny," Slowhand said. He punched both guards in the face again to make sure they stayed out cold, then said, indicating the cells: "That's running a risk."

  "Hopefully, they'll make it out. But if they don't, they'll provide us with a good diversion."

  Slowhand looked at her, surprised. "A little cold and calculating, for you, Hooper."

  "Last few days. I'm learning."

  Slowhand nodded. As he did, Kali began to strip the tabards and unbuckle the armour from the guards. He placed a hand on hers. "What are you doing?"

  "Getting us some clothing. You, in particular."

  Slowhand shook his head. "Armour will do us no good where we're going, believe me. And you'd look a bit obvious in just a tabard. Cute, but obvious."

  "If this is just a ploy to keep me nearly naked — "

  "Trust me."

  Kali sighed. "So what's the plan?"

  "We head up."

  "Up, eh? Here we are in what, some deep cells, and we head up? I'd never have thought of that one."

  "Will you shut up and move?"

  The two of them began to wind their way up the spiral stairway, staying cautious and keeping low, emerging eventually into the guard room that lay above. There, a guard was slumped in a chair, his feet on his desk, with his back to them, a faint snoring sound coming from the other side of his head. Slowhand seemed to know where he was going, and pointed. Without a sound, the two of them crouch-walked around the edge of the room, coming eventually to a door to a connecting corridor, which Slowhand peered through.

  "The hard part," Slowhand whispered. "From here on in it gets a little crowded."

  Crowded? Kali thought. And then she remembered being carried down from her interrogation — the sounds she'd heard, the sights she'd seen, or perhaps just imagined. What was Slowhand saying, she wondered, that they had been real? Here, beneath the cathedral?

  "You've told me what you were doing here, Slowhand," she said as they moved into and along the corridor, "but you haven't told me why."

  Slowhand hesitated. "The Faith and I have a bit of history. Or I should say they have a bit of history with someone close to me."

  "Who are you talking about? Who did they have history with?"

  Slowhand was uncharacteristically silent for a second. "That's a story for some other time. Point is, there's a lot more going on with the Final Faith than meets the eye. A lot more. And I needed to know what."

  "And you found something?"

  Slowhand nodded, pointing ahead of where they skulked. "Specifically, this."

  Kali turned and, though used to some sights, actually gasped. The corridor ended a few feet ahead of them and, where it did, it opened out into a cavernous chamber carved into the rock and lit by the kind of light cylinders she had only ever seen in the possession of Merrit Moon. But it was what they lit that staggered her.

  People milled about in what appeared to be some kind of warehouse and distribution centre, though from what Kali could make out very little of what they were storing and distributing consisted of either Final Faith tracts or any other religious baubles, bangles and beads. Instead, crates and packing cases piled high throughout the chamber were marked as containing supplies, both rations and medical, as well as various tools, implements, building materials and virtually anything else that would be needed in establishing Final Faith outposts throughout the land. There was a hint of how they would start to get there, too — iron rails in the floor of the cavern, with carriages upon them — some kind of rail way?

  From what she had heard of their methodology there was something missing, though, and to satisfy her curiosity Kali crouch-walked into the cavern and forced open a crate that looked to her to be particularly suspect. Sure enough, she found what she had guessed they would contain.

  Weapons. A lot of weapons.

  She hadn't imagined anything when she'd been dragged from the interrogation chambers to the cells, it was all real. And the cavern she saw was not the only one — corridors led off everywhere. The sub-levels of Scholten Cathedral were not so much a religious base as a military complex.

  Something else drew her attention.

  "Slowhand, wait. What's that?"

  Slowhand looked to where Kali pointed. On the other side of the cavern there were two openings in the rock wall, and in each a wooden construction that looked like some kind of lift, one of them rising and terminating at this level and the other, counterbalanced, going down.

  Even further down.

  Kali might not have noticed them at all were it not for the fact that they were heavily guarded, and that alone piqued her interest. What sent it into overdrive was that as she and Slowhand watched, Katherine Makennon emerged from the ascending shaft.

  "Now,
what do you suppose is down there?" Kali mused, slowly.

  "Don't know. Ladies' toilets?"

  "Witty. Why are the guards there, and nowhere else?"

  "I don't know, but the question's academic. Wherever it is those shafts go, there's no way past those guards, not without alerting the whole of the Enlightened. We have to continue up."

  "Slowhand, I thought you wanted the inside story on this place? Don't you want to know what's down there?"

  "Of course I do. And I know you do. But not now, Hooper. There'll be another time."

  Kali sighed. "Well, at least let's try to see if Makennon gives anything away. She seems to be going our way."

  "Fine," Slowhand said, "we follow her. But don't get too close, and whatever you do, stay under cover."

  "Stunning tactic. Never would have thought of that one."

  "Just move."

  "Yes sir."

  Keeping behind crates, pillars and whatever else could provide cover, Kali and Slowhand pursued the Anointed Lord, gleaning little but nevertheless coming closer to what must have been an exit. Then, suddenly, Querilous Fitch appeared. Kali and Slowhand flattened themselves against a wall and listened in.

  "I am here to report, Madam, as ordered," Fitch said.

  "Sorry not to have been available earlier," Makennon responded, "but we had to seal below."

  "More problems?" Fitch asked. "It has been… three days."

  Makennon nodded. "We lost another two — including Salome. The defences in this dig are formidable."

  Kali looked at Slowhand eagerly, about to speak, but he put his hand to her mouth and shushed her.

  "That is unfortunate," Fitch said. "I'll arrange for disposal of the body."

  "There is no body, Fitch."

  "Ah, indeed." He hesitated for a second. "Madam, have you considered using — "

  "The girl? No, Fitch, she is far too undisciplined, a loose cannon. Besides, following your recent treatment of her I very much doubt she would be sympathetic to our cause."

  "She does not know what happened. And perhaps could be… persuaded?"

  "No. I know her kind. You might beat her but you wouldn't break her. There'd come a time when she'd run into a trap rather than trip it for us. No, Fitch, I'll arrange for another. In the meantime, what did you learn from her?"